#but when I visit friends we alternate between meeting somewhere or someone picking the other up depending on what we wanna do

[transvampireboyfriend]

hi hi hi. for writing purposes, is it super rude to not pick someone up from the airport when they come visit you from another city/state? I've never even been in an airport and im from a miniscule country so idk. My characters are bffs and they visit each other maybe once every month for weekends but this is a two week visit and i had it set up so the one at the airport suggests they meet where the other one is and the other instead of picking em up, called them a ride and paid for it. if u need more context lmk

[chimmyrockbison]

MASTERLIST Updated 03/20/2021

COMPLETED AO3 FICS [Kim Taehyung/Park Jimin]

1. The Sound of Your Heart

Summary: There was something so easy about it, it was almost scary. Taehyung didn’t want to feel this way, didn’t want to feel this overwhelming fondness; but not unlike his head, his heart was hard to persuade once it had decided a path. And Taehyung was scared that it had decided on the mute new boy with pretty features and a warm smile.

Words: 144,014

2. All the King's Men

Summary: Castle servants Jimin and Taehyung find themselves involved in a game with the Crown Prince.

Words: 52,531

3. golden haze

Summary: Taehyung watches Jimin’s mouth twist into a pout, forming the word ‘fucking’ with his thick lips before he’s whipping out his translation device again. Taehyung doesn’t have time to stop him when various pornographic images pop up on his holographic screen, Jimin’s eyes widening with intrigue, his mouth falling open at the suggestive images in front of him.

(or: lonely college student taehyung harbors an alien fugitive in his apartment. nothing goes as planned.)

Words: 34,850

4. Drag'on Together (Love Is Its Own Magic)

Summary: “I swear to God, Taehyung if you stop to pick up one more rock because you think it might be some sort of rare stone, I’m leaving you here,” Jimin huffs as he tries to sound intimidating.

“Jiminnie, we both know you wouldn’t survive a minute without me, so stop with the empty threats, okay?” Taehyung replies, happily ignoring his dark-haired friend.

Jimin would argue, he would, if it wasn’t for the fact that Taehyung was right.

or

The time Taehyung and Jimin finds a blue rock and it turns out to be so much more.

Words: 30,554

5. even the weariest river

Summary: It's moments like this that make Taehyung panic. The open derision on each courtier's face, the scorn of his brother as he turns from his prey. The slit of Park Jimin's eyes, just barely open and dark and hateful, as Taehyung swallows and squares his shoulders and says—

"I want to claim him."

The tides of war change, and sweep Taehyung and Jimin along with them.

Words: 152,979

6. i fell in love with the pizza delivery guy (and then i blew him in the bathroom)

Summary: Send your best delivery guy. Preferably cute, preferably packing.

“You're the one who ordered me,” Taehyung says. Not exactly a question; more of a statement.

“Well, I ordered pizza; you just happen to be a delightful bonus,” Jimin clarifies, lips drawn up in a smirk that sets Taehuyung’s blood on fire in a most delectable way. “Although, had I known a pretty face like yours was working there...maybe I would have been more specific with my instructions. At least I know for next time.”

(or, Jimin orders pizza and a little something extra, and Taehyung delivers without really knowing what he's signing up for)

Words: 18,438

7. Grand Jeté

Summary: Refusing to spend another night alone, Taehyung surprises his perfectionist of a boyfriend Jimin at his dance studio with the intent of dragging him home. But their pent-up emotions from spending time apart has the visit ending with a lot of kissing and a little experimenting.

Words: 8,200

8. Already Midnight

Summary: On New Year's Eve, Taehyung is drunk. So drunk that he doesn't recognize Jimin as his boyfriend. When Jimin kisses him at midnight, Taehyung threatens to call his man- aka Jimin.

Words: 3,951

9. Worth The Risk

Summary: The rules are simple: no kissing on the lips, no petnames, no cuddling after sex, no sleepovers, no labels, and no catching feelings.

It should be simple. In fact, it would be simple, if it weren’t for one tiny thing...Taehyung is pretty sure he’s in love with Jimin. And that’s absolutely against the rules.

Words: 23,645

10. Common Ground

Summary: Taehyung is rich, a little bit bratty, a lot a bit spoiled, and failing calculus. Jimin works full time, tutors, and is a straight-A student. There's a rulebook somewhere that states very clearly that people like Jimin should never associate with people like Taehyung. But rules are meant to be broken. And opposites always, always attract.

Words: 44,136

11. This is not a dream

Summary: He would think they were ships in the night if not for the fact that every night, Jimin lays his head in Taehyung’s lap and Taehyung runs fingers without nerve endings through his hair. If they didn't have this false, teasing closeness long enough to learn every detail of each other's lives, long enough that Jimin is the person Taehyung spends the most time with by a mile.

(Jimin leaves. Two months later, he falls in love with Taehyung.)

Words: 12,370

12. Shooting Stars and Silver Moons

Summary: Yoongi and Jimin make a bet, Taehyung makes bad decisions.

(Or: "I'm kind of pissed you didn't choose me to fake date, I'm your best friend")

Words: 20,206

13. the whole world is blue

Summary: Taehyung is not going to confess. That kind of thing never ends well. The movies are wrong. It doesn't always turn out to be mutual. Real life isn't so romantic like that.

Words: 10,829

14. Swipe Right

Summary: As a best friend, Jimin will do anything for Taehyung. This includes being his fake boyfriend to ward off the unwanted attention Taehyung is receiving after using a dating app and agreeing to meet someone.

Words: 26,085

15. Define Me in Terms of You

Summary: This is either Taehyung's greatest idea, or his worst.

“So, let me get this straight. You want me to teach you how to play guitar, join a fake band and enter a competition just so that you can impress a guy you like?"

Words: 9,808

16. i just adore you asking for more

Summary: Taehyung is a successful model looking for a discreet release. Jimin is a professional dom who won’t judge his browsing history.

Words: 90,201

17. Sirius

Summary: "Dude, our entire relationship could be an Ed Sheeran album."

Words: 16,955

18. it's your heart i wanna live (& sleep) in

Summary: The first time Jimin sleeps over at Taehyung's, it's an emergency. The other times after? That's a different story.

Words: 22,658

19. kissing up on fences (and up on walls, i don't want to fall)

Summary: They’ve always been close, Taehyung and Jimin. Where one went, it would be rare to see them without the other. This is a fact Namjoon knows better than most, having coexisted with them in close quarters for such a long time.

Namjoon had not, however, for all his proclaimed wisdom and prudence, had the foresight to see that they’d become this close.

(or: the five times the other members thought they were dating, and the one time jimin starts to wonder if they really are)

Words: 8,738

20. The Usual

Summary: Alternatively titled: The Regular

Jimin will date anyone, except for boys who serve coffee.

Words: 27,935

21. i'm so sorry but it's fake love (tbh, not really)

Summary: when chaebol/commitment anti-fan park jimin learns he's being married off, he does the smartest thing in the world: hire a fake boyfriend he found on the internet (aka Craigslist's personal ads)

all he needs is just three months with said fake boyfriend to convince his parents to leave him alone. after that, he'll get back to his regular programming.

except, not really.

Words: 209,565

22. Gravity//Oxygen

Summary: He already lost his parents.

He'll be damned if he loses Jimin's smile too.

We stay together.

Always.

Taehyung is out for revenge. And he'll do anything to get it.

Words: 180,321

23. A Screenshot of Youth

Summary: There’s a sharp intake of breath, Taehyung’s grip tightening over Jimin’s with a gentle squeeze. “Jimin,” his voice is serious, and Jimin watches him, strangely endeared. “Let’s be friends.”

And it’s like this, that they begin as friends in the heat of a sweltering summer, twelve years old and too young to think much of it, hands twined together under the blanket of a setting sun.

(In which Jimin and Taehyung grow up together.)

Words: 18,496

24. i'll take the desert, you take the coast

Summary: “Everyone I know is a candlestick nearing its demise. They’re afraid of bringing meaning into their lives, of cultivating that glow. But you, prince Park Jimin, you are different. You glow with the passion of more than a thousand suns.”

Words: 30,973

25. just to get a taste

Summary: The one where Jeongguk dares Jimin and Taehyung to kiss and it unravels a lot of feelings. But mostly more kisses.

Or the one where Jimin's heart is stupid and Jimin's best friend is actually irresistible. Who'd've thunk, huh?

Words: 24,375

26. tell them it's the end

Summary: Five months after Taehyung suddenly walked out on him, Jimin finds out that Taehyung has yet to inform his family, who absolutely loved Jimin, about their split.

Jimin tries to swallow his feelings as he once again “dates” Taehyung.

Words: 13,802

27. stay with you

Summary: Taehyung wondered why he always see this blonde man, getting wasted every night. Its such a shame seeing his pretty face wasting every single night of his life in this bar.

Until he saw his eyes, and he understood why.

(Or Jimin is broken and he wanted his happiness back.)

Words: 12,875

28. ring the changes

Summary: That's the nature of one-sided confessions. Things change.

Words: 45,248

29. summer, winter, spring (i'm falling for you)

Summary: The school starts to take notice of Jimin.

Taehyung has always noticed.

Words: 41,786

30. Make Me-al

Summary: In which Jimin starts to work at Jin's restaurant and there he meets Taehyung, the new rookie waiter that kinda gets him off his nerves (the feeling is mutual). Yet, the tension between them is hotter than the ovens from the kitchen...

Words: 26,886

31. such stuff as dreams are made on

Summary: "sir no one, may i have this dance?"

or: kim taehyung, a kitchen boy, sneaks into a royal masquerade. park jimin is the prince he never expected.

Words: 38,753

[thesaltyoceanwaves]

Adrien’s Room and Memorabilia: A Sequel Post

Well, I hinted at a similar arc for Adrien in this post, so let’s brainstorm.

CW: mentions of harassment

The major difference between Adrien and Marinette in this instance is that Mari’s room is about her working through her social anxieties and developing meaningful relationships. Adrien’s focus is on his lonely nature, as well as discovering and cultivating hobbies that he really enjoys, and aren’t just forced upon him by his father.

His room starts off with very few photos of his loved ones, namely his parents, Chloe and Felix. These photos are professional in nature, clean, crisp and very much lacking in color. Even Chloe and Felix are behaving for the sake of the photos. Notably, their photos show them when they are much younger, to indicate that Adrien hasn’t spent time with them lately.

There’s a large emphasis placed on the amount of stuff that Adrien has in his room. The video games, the TV, the climbing wall, etc. Everything is completely clean and dust free, because he spends a lot of time in his room, but he doesn’t have anything he’s particularly drawn toward, so whenever he’s done with something, he puts it away and grabs something else. His room is also likely clean due to his strict father demanding he keep up appearances.

The only exception to this are video games, but they are very specific ones: simulators. Particularly, ones that focus on dating and romance. Life simulators, farming simulators, RPGs that offer a romance subplot, etc. Even if the sim only offers the option to make friends, Adrien is fine with that. Stuff like Animal Crossing, Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons (the ones made by Marvelous), The Sims, Undertale and so forth are right up his valley. And again, lots of dating sims.

Following his mother’s “passing,” and at the start of the show, Adrien keeps a corner of his room dedicated to her. As more time goes by and Adrien gets closer to his new friends, this will shrink down to a photo of the two of them, and most of her memorabilia will be stored away. This will show that he’s open to the possibility of his father dating someone else, as was shown in “Felix”. 

He will often turn to photos of his mother when he wants deeper, more worrying thoughts that he wants to voice and get off his chest, or if he needs advice about something and he doesn’t know who to turn to. S1 would focus more on friendship advice, because in this version, he would need to put in more time and care to make friends (Nino and him would still stay buds, Mari is still crushing on him but is hesitant to approach, and Alya is kind but cautious, with the rest of the class being wary because of his friendship with Chloe). Later on, he’s more likely to ask about plot-relevant stuff, his feelings for Ladybug and Kagami (and romance in general), his growing resentment towards his father, his meet-ups with his friends, and his discomfort with Chloe and Lila’s touchiness. Coupled with Felix’s harassment in “Felix,” this causes Adrien to realize his boundaries are being violated, and to also wonder if he has adopted similar behaviors. He goes to speak with either Sabine, Tomoe or Nino’s mom about the matter (maybe all three to get a variety of perspectives), and then with Ladybug. I would set this conversation sometime after “Frozer,” with him mentioning how he acted there, and apologizing for leaving her in the middle of battle (if the episode isn’t rewritten to include that there).

Overtime, he would start to depend less on talking to Emilie’s photo, and instead talk to whoever he asked for advice. Instead, he would talk to her prior to a larger battle or facing a bigger threat and had something he wanted to get off his chest.  

At the beginning of their superhero career, Adrien is into collecting Ladybug merch - he’s likely to even have one of those “Do it for her” boards set up. He has some Chat Noir stuff as well, but it’s not as prominent. When other heroes arrive on the scene, he’ll have stuff of them too. He would even go so far as to recreate the heroes in his games (mostly in what Sims knock-off this universe would have), and roleplay scenarios with Ladybug. He doesn’t fully get rid of his merch over time, but he does likely downsize as he spends more time getting to know Ladybug and the team.

There’s also the obligatory Ladrien scene that I hinted at in Marinette’s post. To recap, Chat Noir, during an emotional moment with Marinette, mentions that he has Ladybug memorabilia in his room, and that he ought to downsize. Sometime later, Ladybug comes to check up on Adrien for plot-related reasons, and discovers that he “too” collects Ladybug merch. Adrien is notably embarrassed by this, but Ladybug replies by saying that she’s a fan of his as well. This will allow two sides of the ship to feel closer to each other and open up about certain things.

Similar to Marinette, Adrien will start picking up little things as mementos from previous episodes to decorate his room with (a class photo from “Reflekta,” a copy of the movie from “Horrificator,” his autographed Jagged Stone CD from “Guitar Villain,” etc).  I also imagine him holding onto clothing items such as Nino’s hat or Kagami’s jacket, that get left behind after hanging out. Over time, he is eventually gifted a mannequin to display these items.

I remember seeing a post that called into question whether Adrien’s activities were something he genuinely enjoyed or if they were just foisted upon him by his father. I like the idea of a laid out arc that explores what Adrien might like to do in the future, by having him go through various hobbies (sort of like Daphne in “Be Cool, Scooby Doo”). 

One hobby I’d give him from the start is tricking. (For those not familiar, tricking combines moves from martial arts and gymnastics, usually flips and kicks, and can be used to create super cool combos, yes I am biased about this). We often see him showing off stunts in battle and would fit Chat’s tendencies to be flashy. I could also see this becoming a hobby he shares with Nino and Kagami later on, maybe with the three of them sneaking out to meet other trickers at gatherings.

(For those who need visual reference.)

However, I also want to give Adrien a more traditionally feminine hobby. There’s a couple of ideas I had for this, including, again ones that he cycles through as he explores himself a bit more. After meeting Luka and noticing that he paints his nails, Adrien might tiptoe in nail art. I could also see Adrien getting really into writing romance, starting off as a fanfic writer and eventually writing his own novel or comic. Alternatively, he becomes a poet. Maybe he spends an episode learning to sew with Marinette so he can make his own cosplays. Or he starts a cottagecore aesthetic blog, and additionally starts taking care of some plants to give his room some needed greenery.

I think for the sake of irony, it would be interesting to see Adrien eventually take up baking as a hobby. I know there’s a couple of AUs involving this concept already (I forget who it was, though I’m tempted to say @lenoreofraven​ ​ but correct me if I’m wrong), but I like this idea because it would give him something extra he and Marinette could bond over in the future, especially since he doesn’t want to do modelling long-term. It would also give him a good excuse to visit the Dupain-Cheng bakery, and grow closer to Sabine and Tom. Perhaps they take him up as an apprentice, or give him a delivery boy job alongside Luka (giving that relationship a chance to grow as well, as well as a Delivery Boy shenanigans episode).

When he’s either in between hobbies, in a tumultuous state, or growing distant from his father, his room will appear far messier. In the latter case, it may be an attempt to rebel against Gabriel, saying “it’s my room, I can do what I want!” If he’s not comfortable immediately speaking out against his father, he may rebel in more passive aggressive ways. I could also see him roleplaying scenarios in which he tells his father off or planning escape routes for hero patrol or tricking gatherings. I think he would also have padded mats stored somewhere in he case he can’t leave, and wants to practice, or have his own tricking gathering in the house.

As he collects more mementos, they start filling up the empty spaces in his room, so when his father prevents him from leaving the house, he doesn’t feel as lonely. He starts finding ways where, from the comfort of his room, he can hang out with friends (like in “Anansi” where he uses the facecam to see what everyone is up to). More friendly, casual photos give the room some life. These mementos may also cause him to start downsizing on the Ladybug and Friends merch.

He will only attempt to remove them altogether if his identity is revealed to Marinette, and she doesn’t seem to process it well (at least at first). Anything pertaining to her, as Ladybug or Marinette, he may attempt to remove, until he realizes just how present she is in his life. He would then consult his mother’s photo about what to do. 

And similarly to Marinette at the end, when they start dating, he would start to incorporate couple’s photos. I think both of them would have those photo booth strips, but I could also see Adrien commissioning posters of his OTP, LadyNoir, and bringing back some of his merch (in a teasing, well-meaning way). 

[nomoregoldfish]

Imagine Pacho Sends You as a Gift to (Spy on) Amado 2/3

This is getting out of hand again, smh. (Not really) Warning: everyone loves Pacho. Un-betaed, I’ll post the entire thing on AO3 later. For now, you can find part 1 here.

Amado is occupied with all sorts of business affairs after you land in DF, leaving you to his younger brother Vicente. You quickly learn Vicente is in charge of security of all cartel business, that's something, you assume.

When asked why you don't go to Juárez directly, Vicente tells you Amado has several meetings with some important figures in DF. You have to figure out a way to infiltrate the plaza to learn more about Amado, staying at a luxury apartment owned by the narcos won't get you anything useful.

"She's crazy!" Vicente's whining when Amado finally shows up late that night, "She woke up at 5 in the morning for a fucking jog and dragged my ass to a wet market before it even opened. And that's not the end of it, she bought so much fish and my car still smells like a stinky fish tank right now."

Vicente is a bit exaggerating but you do have a fruitful trip to the local market. 

"Yet you finished everything she cooked." Amado points at the empty plates on the dining table, not annoyed at all.

"Do you have some leftovers?" The tall Mexican turns to you. Vicente interrupts, "No, we ate all salmon sashimi because Ryoko said salmon has to be served as fresh as possible, and I ate all wasabi. Oh man, that shit is hotter than serrano peppers. But don't worry, we have a lot of more fish in the jacuzzi." Right, it comes handy to have more than one bathtub in the luxury apartment.

Finally Amado sends away his bratty little brother. Then it's just the two of you. 

"I've got something for you." You remember to smile, which seems to work fine as Amado approaches. "All done?" He asks, you haven't figured it out what he's asking about, the dishes? Yes. Then the Mexican lowers your ponytail, running his fingers through your hair. 

"You don't wanna hair in your grilled pacific saury." You joke, bringing him another set of hot meal you specifically make for him.

"Tell me more about it." Amado takes a large bite, looking satisfied and more relaxed.

You two are chatting over some mezcal and a plate of edamame afterwards. Amado asks about your day, and trades some anecdotes about Vicente when you tentatively ask about his. The fucker is smart and vigilant. 

"I have to tell you something," Okay, you get his full attention, "The bluefin tuna you ate three days ago wasn't served in the best condition. Pacho wanted a show, everything grand and pretty, so I had to cut the red part of the fish and make a bright-colored akami plate right away. It's meaty and chewy, which should have been aged for three days in the fridge to allow the texture to soften and release more flavor," You opens the fridge, showing Amado several chunks of tuna you already cut out, "You can have friends over in three days, I bought enough for a full table."

"What about the pink ones?" He seems genuinely interested. You continue to explain that different parts of tuna offer variable tastes from super fatty pink otoro around the head and collar to chutoro, mixture of fat and meat from the back and belly.

To your surprise, Amado asks for a slice of the fat part, "You said it's the most expensive one. I shouldn't waste your hard-earned money, right?" Both of you laugh.

You take a really fat cut. When you're looking for a plate and the soy sauce, Amado just eats it from your hand. Your fingers are freezing from the tuna and when he swallows them with the slice, the hot and soft sensation around fucking turns you on like nothing else. The sashimi-hater even licks your fingers a few more times, "to clean the fat."

As he claimed, "It's better."

"Now you're gonna show me how you destroy my jacuzzi on day one."

You feel great sitting by the edge of the jacuzzi a.k.a. your temporary fish tank and checking out all the aquatic animals you bought earlier.

"It could've been us in it." What a tease. You laugh then get up, "I don't think it's a good idea to get naked with lobsters and octopuses." 

"Wait," Amado turns you around, still sitting by the edge, "Let me make it up for you."

When Amado decides to give you a head, you simply don't say no. It's like sitting on his face because you can barely stand still. He notices then pulls you closer. The lips used to wrap around your fingers now make you feel like in heaven, and God bless his fucking tongue. The Mexican is driving you mad.

"Shh, you wake up the octopus." You're at the tipping point and the fucker pauses. You open your eyes, an octopus is on the move, two tentacles approaching the edge of the jacuzzi, sucker rings very close to your bare legs.

Then imagine Amado gets up and pushes you up against the tiles in the shower, silencing you with a rough kiss. You taste yourself, and something raw, could be the tuna or the cigarettes he smokes. You get even more aroused by that. 

You're desperate for more of his touch. So you grab his big hand and put it between your thighs, and he's willing to comply. 

This is too much. You cum just after a few rubs against him.  

"I'm sorry for the other night. You're a genius." Amado's playing dirty, sweet-talking while he continues to rub against your oversensitive part, "Would you do me favor? I'm thinking about hosting a few guests, somewhere private, the tuna will be ready by Friday, right?"

You can't believe he falls for the trick. This could be an important business meeting and you're gonna be there.

"Sure. Can I ask something in return?" You already come to your senses while giving Amado a painfully slow handjob.

"Anything you want. Flowers? Jewelry? Cars? I have some better collections than Pacho's Corvette C4. Too flashy." Amado offers generously.

You can't help laughing, "Gosh, how could men make everything a dick comparison contest?"

"You saw his dick?" Amado bites your lower lips. He's rock hard, throbbing.

"I thought you did, too. You two seem very close. I mean, Pacho is a gorgeous man." You keep going, and teasing. You enjoy the fact that you just plant something really dirty in Amado's head. You bet he's having an imaginary threesome with you and Pacho. Not a bad idea though.

By the time you make him come, the Mexican almost forgets what you're asking.

"I ask 'Do you have some dumbbells?' I need my daily training and I don't have time to find a new gym here. What? How do you think I'm able to handle a 150lbs tuna in a line of work mostly for men?" You give Amado a little squeeze before licking it off.

You have a dream that night, being penetrated by Amado in some warm water while a giant octopus sucks you off. You wake up with wetness down there.

You visit several Japanese restaurants in town, unsurprisingly boring. You get the idea that local middle-class see Japanese cuisine as an exotic and cultural novelty. 

You even invite Amado to have lunch at one of those restaurants during his break. He frowns at the food after the first bite, "You can't do this to me."

What? "Asking me to eat this crap is inhumane. I'm spoiled." Amado makes it sound like you're the bad guy, but these smiling eyes give him away. He looks at you the way that makes you feel wanted.

You two end up eating cheap Mexican street food and that's where you find some early blossoms of jacarandas with excitement.

"You want those?" Amado asks, picking up some dried petals from the street. All you can think of is jacarandas flower could be an interesting alternative to sakura, which adds a domestic touch to the food you're gonna prepare for Friday. 

"Yes, please." Amado must find it weird but he just nods.

Once being brought to the outskirt location of the private meeting, you spend more time making rearrangement of the decor, trying to create an authentic Japanese ryotei experience. 

You call Amado once for extra resources. It's tricky because you don't know if you're in a position to ask anything when he's away, busy.

"I'm glad you called. I may not be an Asian culture fanatic like Pacho but I promise you will have anything you want. Whatever rare shit he's bought you, just name it. I'll have an entire Boeing 727 team ready to fly it in from every fucking corner of the world." Yeah, the dick measuring thing is still going on. 

What you don't mention is that you're also glad to hear his voice. "Will you come over?" You almost let it slip, "I mean, to see if you like everything."

"No. I trust you," Amado pauses, "I'll be an hour early."

"Mind the traffic." Bright laughter breaks from the other end of the line.

And thanks to the highly efficient Carrillo Air Express, stuff you request is brought to you the next day including a whole box of violet jacarandas petals.

You ask for a guest list before starting to set the table. "Just set tables for eight people." Vicente clearly has no idea of being a host. You explain that it's part of your job to make sure no one is allergic to seafood. "How the fuck do I know that?" The young man is still complaining.

"Don't worry. Give me a list. I'll look for their office numbers, call their secretaries and find out."

Vicente is easily convinced. You get what you want, a list of high-up politicians and business executives. Not sure how this is relevant but you memorize the names and companies anyway.

Amado makes his arrival almost cinematic. With a chopper still swirling outside, the man in black steps out from the driving seat on the right and waves to you like a king. 

"You're early." You can hide your smile this time.

"Because someone suggested I should 'mind the traffic.' It happens I've owned a few choppers." The fucker looks like a dashing pilot out Hollywood movies. 

You joke that he's nothing like what Pacho used to say, "Low-profile my ass." 

"Oh, Pacho talks about me?"

"Stop. I'm really not interested in which one of you has a bigger dick."

Later Amado hands you a wrapped frame. "I heard you're looking for some Japanese art for decoration. I don't know anything about art but..."

You can't believe he brings you a shunga, tradition Japanese erotic painting, depicting a giant octopus performing oral on a woman with pink tentacles all over her naked body. "You're ridiculous." You frown, it's too explicit you're not sure if it's appropriate for such an occasion.

"I saw something similar at Pacho's house. Well, minus the woman. Just boys." The cheeky bastard winks at you, "You're also serving octopus sashimi tonight? It's a fit then." That's how a print of the famous Octopus and Girl Diver ends up in the main room.

Dinner starts at 8 and everything is ready. You're asked to briefly introduce each dish to the guests when one's presented. Guests praise everything from the chopstick rest made of porcelain with traditional Mexican patterns, to the floral-shaped bream sashimi slices. The tuna sushi is a hit, everyone loves it. You give Amado a knowing smirk when you catch him taking a few himself. The octopus sashimi is a bit tricky but the guests are so "polite", they still pretend to enjoy the exotic food. 

The rest of the time you stay outside the room. You hear things but not in a coherent manner. Amado mentions NAFTA, export-oriented furniture and auto parts factories in Juárez, and two of them are head of the biggest tequila exporters of the country. Nothing makes sense for the drug business. Is the most successful Mexican drug trafficker gonna shift to other legitimate businesses? That might have an impact on Pacho's business.

When dessert is brought to the table, everyone wows — the improvised jacarandas mochi with dried petals is a nice surprise to end the dinner. You tell them the story that instead of the much-anticipated sakura which wasn't well-adjusted to the Mexican weather, how jacarandas was introduced to Mexico City by a Japanese gardener in the 1930s. All the guests finish their plates while giving you a few nods.

Amado seems very pleased with everything you've done. He lowers his voice to ask you to wait for him afterwards.

"Where are we going?" You ask through the headphones. Seems Amado is flying you back to downtown DF.

The Mexican smirks, "To the sky."

You finally land atop the roof of a skyscraper, "This is the tallest building in Mexico." Amado holds you tight when you exit the chopper. The wind at night in early January is insane, let alone you're 700ft above the ground.

It must be some five-star hotel but turns out it's an office building of Pemex, Mexico's state-owned oil company. WTAF? "Put it this way, the biggest exporters of the country hang out sometimes." Amado's sense of humor is something you didn't expect, "Well, I'm not saying they bring as many unattached US dollars as I do, not even close."

When you let the fact sink in — that the Juárez cartel probably earns twice as much as the biggest oil company in the country through exporting "goods," having access to a secret suite on the top floor of the Pemex Tower is not surprising at all.

"You bring people here often?" You ask when Amado pops a bottle of wine. The city view from the 54th floor is stunning.

"I didn't know you're the jealous type." He brings you a glass. You two stand in front the giant window, raising your glasses like you're celebrating. 

"You haven't asked what we're celebrating." Amado takes a step closer.

You put index finger on his lips, which are incredibly soft. Immediately remind you last time you kissed, "I don't want to get myself killed in a foreign country."

"Did Pacho teach you that? Not asking questions, just do your thing." Amado starts kissing your hand.

"Oh, my God. You're so obsessed with him, and it's kinda cute."

"Nonsense." The Mexican disagrees, and turns to the window. 

You sets both of your glasses aside, then leads Amado to the bed. You get undressed first, lying on the bed, waiting.

"You're sure this is something you want?" You ask, completely stripped. Amado stares at your flat-chested body like the first time he found out who you are. 

"You make it sound like I haven't sleep with supermodels. That funny?" The fucker tickles you, "You have no idea..."

Imagine Amado makes you feel adored, marking every inch of your body with his big hands and soft lips. He takes time, mapping your body till he finds the most sensitive spots and makes you moan, shivering.

"Let me warm you up." Amado probably thinks you're cold, so he spoons you. The long limbs of his are like tentacles wrapped around you, fuck, you can feel his erection grinding against you.

You're so wet for Amado. When he finally pushes in from behind, neither of you can resist the sensation.

"Wanted to do this to you the whole week. You're such a fucking tease, aren't you? Dropped at my door in that kimono robe then left without letting me even touch you." Amado pounds into you, with hand reaching your little bean from behind, making you a total mess.

 "Why didn't you make me stay then?" You're nearly breathless, "Is it...because it's within Pacho's territory?" You obviously cross some line with that. The thrusts become harder, feels like Amado is gonna fuck you senseless.

You're not sure if Pacho wants to know you are talking about him when you reach orgasm. 

You decide to leave it out before you pass out.

[lawandorderforevercsi]

One and Only Heart Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own FBI, the show belongs to Dick Wolf, and CBS do.

A/N: There's a nod to Law and Order from Season 17 onward, see if you can spot it.

Mention of/Spoilers for: Most Wanted (FBI Season 1 and Episode 18 and FBI: Most Wanted Pilot) and Closure (FBI Season 1.18)

Meanwhile, Jubal was upstairs taking it easy.

He just wanted to rest following a severe case where a judge was forcibly taken across state lines into New Jersey. The abductor threatened to hurt the judge if his demands weren't met. In the end, they got the judge freed, and the criminal captured without further incident. He now planned Sunday go up to Scarsdale as a special surprise visit and spend time with Tyler and Abigail.

Following a quick meal, he turned in but was feeling restless. So, he picked up a book and began reading. However, he couldn't concentrate as there was a person on his mind. Isobel. While they had that argument, he still cared about her and was worried about being with the guy she was with. On his own time, he had done a background check on Axel, and while he did come up clean and no records, it was his photo with a smug smile that worried him on how badly Isobel could be hurt.

He had noticed Isobel from the first time that his team met up and met with her team at the time, the FBI Fugitive Task Force, to catch the killer. To him, it felt like he saw her somewhere before or they had worked together in a previous life, but couldn't place it. He had pushed that thought aside, and they got to work. When the case was solved, and they never crossed paths again. Until, of course, Dana resigned and retired, and Isobel became their Special Agent in Charge.

Fast forward to the present time. When the case concluded, he had noticed how Isobel left in a hurry. He didn't see her in her office, which was odd; she was usually the last to leave though she may be in a meeting. But when he asked around, he got the same answer, there were no meetings. He began to worry about her and hoped that something wrong wouldn't happen.

Fruitlessly trying to read the same page three times, he gave up and got ready for bed. Just as he was about to get in bed when he heard a knock on the door, he thought, who could that be?

Not sure what to think, he headed to the door. He set his weapon aside and opened the door when he checked the peephole and saw who it was. There stood Isobel Castille in a heavy overcoat. Instead of looking stoic, she looked sad. Her mascara was smeared, evident that she had been crying. Sensing something was wrong. Jubal pulled her in and closed the door. Sensing she needed a hug, he pulled her in and asked, "Isobel, what's wrong?"

Isobel bit her lip and replied, "It's over with Axel. I went home, got dressed up and over to our usual meeting spot, and caught him red-handed kissing a buxom strawberry blonde. I had a feeling that he had been unfaithful for some time."

When he heard what Isobel said, Jubal ground his teeth. Axel. Axel Whittaker. That SOB. Jubal knew he had been all wrong for someone as fierce, reliable, and independent as Isobel.

He led her to the couch, and they sat next to Isobel. As a friend who cared, Jubal wrapped his arm around Isobel's shoulder. While she stiffened at first, it wasn't long before Isobel had her head on his shoulder. The two of them remained silent and Jubal let Isobel talk when she was ready to. A short time later Isobel began talking, "How could I have let his personality and charm sway me? We have faced people who are just as slimy, and we were always on guard. Yet with Axel, I let my guard down. I feel stupid. I should have pressed the issue."

Hearing her, sniffle broke his heart. Though he had been divorced for a little while now and hadn't seen anyone socially, here was the one woman he loved her the first time he saw her. However, he stayed away following their heated discussion. Until now, that is.

He reached for the tissue box and handed it over to her. She took a few and wiped her tears, and along with that, her smeared mascara. Jubal breathed in and out; he hoped that now was as anytime an excellent time to reveal his secret.

Clearing his voice, Jubal began. "Isobel, if you had pressed the issue, he would have hurt you even more. A strong woman like you deserves someone better than that punk. You deserve someone better, baby."

Jubal realized what he had said. But before he could take it back, Isobel sat up straight, looked straight into his eyes, and asked, "Jubal, did you call me what I think you called me…baby?"

Like a schoolboy who was caught staring at the prettiest and popular girl he thought oops, way to go Jubal, you are so busted. You'll be lucky if Isobel doesn't do something to subdue you.

Seeing Isobel stare at him, he turned around and faced her and said, "Isobel, here's the truth. Since the time that we first worked something to stir within. I wanted to talk to you, but I had my problems and we had the case to solve. After the case I thought I would never see you again, then when you came in after Dana left I was doing a mental happy dance that you were back. Byt then I knew I was ready to ask you as my problems were settled. Then suddenly you began dating that jerk, and I will admit I was jealous. I wanted to say something, but after our discussion, I stayed away as you had asked."

Now she knew the whole story, Isobel was touched. She had no idea that Jubal felt this way about her. The truth was she liked him too. Since she was apt not to let anyone in on her personal life, and suddenly she was involved with Axel. She hadn't meant to make Jubal jealous, or did she?

Making a quick decision it was now or never. Isobel leaned in and, with their lips a mere inch from each other. Knowing what would happen next, he placed a hand on her cheek and caressed the gently and asked, "Are you sure Izzy? Cause once we cross the line, there’s no going back."

Isobel loved the way her Jubal name just rolled off his tongue. Now she needed to figure out how he found her Jubal name. Leaning even closer, she whispered, "Yes, I’m sure. Just shut up and kiss me already, Jubal."

Jubal replied, "As you, my wish, my lady."

Jubal tilted his head, and when their lips collided the stars aligned. Their first kiss was sweet and unhurried, promising of what was to come. As they continued kissing, alternating between slow and passionate as she placed her hands on his face, and eventually on his neck. Just as their hands began to roam around each other's clothed bodies when suddenly he broke the kiss, causing Isobel to groan, "You better not be having second thoughts I swear I will hurt so badly that…"

Jubal smiled, "No second thoughts."

Taking her hands in his, relishing how skin felt soft against his rough skin. I just realized I should be doing this the right way. I would love to take you on a date first and before proceeding to um extracurricular activities."

Isobel softened. She loved Jubal's sense of being the proper gentleman. Caressing his jaw and framing his face with her hands, she said, "We could, but with our cases and my meetings, it could take a long time before that happened. Plus, I have something that I want to make good use of."

She stood up and took off her coat to reveal a sequined dress with a v-neck dress and a slit that showed her legs. Isobel pulled him up and asked, "Do you like what you see so far?"

Jubal couldn't take anymore. Now he wanted her. He stood up and answered in a low growl, "You bet I do Izzy."

He led her to his room. Once they were in and the door was closed and locked, he turned around and walked to her.

Taking her hands, he pulled her into his arms. Isobel had always imagined what it would be like to be in his arms. Now she never wanted to leave. He went in for a kiss, which started at a steady pace. However, as the intensity of the kiss grew he let his hands roam her body. Isobel's hands moved up into and soon tangled in his hair with his arms wound tightly around her waist. As they continued making out, Isobel let her fingers move in under the shirt to roam his body. The sensations that her fingers left caused him to groaned at her touch, leaving hot sensations on his skin. Soon his hands found the zipper on her dress, and he lowered it.

When the air became a necessity, they broke the kiss and breathlessly backed up and removed their clothing. Jubal pulled off his shirt as she pulled dress down and expose her scantily clad body. They both got a look at each other, each getting turned on even more than before. There stood Isobel in a blue lace bra and panty set. A set that hugged her body so well it looked like it was a second skin. He never thought he would be able to see Isobel in lacy lingerie. All he remembered was wow, she’s so stunning.

Meanwhile, Isobel thought the same thing. Never in her wildest dreams would she ever have felt that she would see Jubal in something more casual than what he wore at work, hence his shirtless look.

Breathe Isobel. You’re not be going to do much if you can't get your heart rate lowered enough.

Jubal came closer to her, and he whispered, "Izzy, you’re so beautiful and so gorgeous. I want you so bad."

Isobel replied in a voice dripping with desire, "Take me and make me yours."

He took her back into his arms and kissed her. He briefly pushed her against the door. But instead of starting another kissing frenzy, he leaned in and began lavishing kisses on her neck. As he continued to let his lips roam everywhere, Isobel sighed in pleasure and tilted her head to give her lover more access. As the ministration continued, she once again threaded her fingers in his thick curls.

When he came up and met her gaze, she slyly grinned and knew what to do. Jubal smiled. He swept up Isobel and carried to the bed. He got on and laid down, he pulled her down to him, and soon their lips touched off another passionate and heated kiss in which their tongues dueled for dominance. Not long afterward, they helped each other out of the remainder of the clothing and made love deep into the night.

-x-

Early the next morning, as the sun rays, shining through the curtains and Isobel stirred from her slumber. Try as she may, she didn't want to wake up as that would mean the end of a kind dream she was having where she spent the night with the man she truly was meant to be. She tried to move but felt a strong arm around her and a warm body that spooned against her. She turned her head and saw a sleeping Jubal holding her close to him.

She thought to himself, what did she do deserve a man as special as Jubal. Their passionate lovemaking last night was filled with so much desire and hunger. While she had wanted to show him how much she wanted him, he had insisted on helping her heal and making her feel loved. They had alternated in slow and languid and wild and frenzied. The way his hands roamed her body touching and caressing her caused the nerve ending in her body to go into overdrive. Isobel shivered just thinking about it.

Not able to resist anymore she leaned in and kissed him on his nose, she kissed it a couple more times which got Jubal to stir. Jubal didn't want to wake for he was having the best dream where he was making love with a beautiful brunette, but when he couldn't hold on any longer, he awoke and saw Isobel smiling at him.

Jubal thought quickly, so last night wasn't a dream. It was for real, and dang Isobel looks sexy even with bed head.

Jubal leaned and kissed his lover on the lips, which led Isobel to deepen the kiss. When they parted to get the air, he smiled and said, "Good morning, beautiful."

Feeling her heart miss a few beats, Isobel placed her hand on his face and whispered back, "Good morning to you too handsome."

A few more smooches later, Isobel said, "Last night was incredible."

Jubal responded with a gentle kiss on the forehead. He switched from his right side and laid on his back and pulled Isobel and held her close—he was amazed at how their bodies fit together perfectly.

Wrapping his arms tighter around Isobel, he asked in a low voice, "What do you want to do this morning?"

Isobel snuggled closer to Jubal and answered, "All I know is I want to be with you."

A/N 2: Thanks for reading chapter 2 of One and Only Heart. As always reviews are appreciated.

[sylvari-bouquet]

Shadows remain: Curiosity killed the cat

Previous chapter: [click here]

Next chapter: [to be updated]

Nettle visits Papaver after a long time. However, not everything seems be normal with them...

tw: emotional abuse, manipulation

Chapter 1 - Curiosity killed the cat

Nettle's notes

I paid a visit to Papaver's workshop today. It's located on the lower level of the Grove, a small one-room place they rented out when I told them that I won't allow them keep storing their crafting tools in my kitchen or keep welding indoors. That exchange had been a long time ago, at least it felt that way. A lot had happened between meeting the troublesome mentor to today, three months after the fall of the Jungle dragon. Even in my following isolation, I had seen them few times after that, yet this was the first time I sought them out of my own volition. I couldn't name the reason why, was it happenstance or an urge that pushed the events into motion. The walls around me that I had been staring through day and night began to crush me, and I had to find someone, anyone, before I would have been completely buried in my grief and depression. So, they were the logical choice.

I really did not know a lot about them at that point. Despite their jovial and social personality, they hardly talked about themselves, especially about their past. I knew that they are part of Whispers', and they did share stories about the time when they, a charr who fancied apples, and a human noble turned spy were part of a strike team. Although I've seen their Holoforge in action, and the parts of Asuran tech embedded in to their bark, I have never broken the tact to inquire about the story behind them - Papaver has told spending some years in Rata Sum, where they learned the basics of their craft. But other than that - truthfully, I know nothing else about them. The only information about their saplinghood that they have mentioned in passing was working at a fern hound kennel - not surprising reveal, considering how they act around any dog-like creatures. I can admit that I was curious why they were so tight-lipped about this particular subject, but I wanted to respect their privacy, and never pushed for answers. I wonder how things would have turned out if I had approached them earlier.

When I entered the workshop, Papaver was engrossed in their work, hunched over something I could not see from the doorstep. Their workspace was small, just one room and alcove they sometimes slept when they'd work late into the night. It was barely furnished, with a single excessively bright asuran lamp over the table. Unlike the communal stations in grove, Papaver's was not grown, but build, they had told they had carved it themselves. They had certain fondness to processed wood. I could relate to that, although interesting in their natural shape, gemstomes only revealed their shine after they had been cut.

"What's this about?" I asked Papaver, and they finally turned to face me. Their appearance supported my theory of

The scene seemed normal enough. However, I noticed some things were amiss: Their long ferns, usually tied to a bun to keep them out of the way, were now hanging loose down their shoulders. The ferns didn't look properly cared, either, which suggested they had been working almost non-stop for days, if not more. Their workstation was in a chaotic disarray. Had it been any other part of their living quarters, it would not had stood out, but the work desk was the one place they almost always kept organized to the last detail.

There were designs scattered around, an as I picked up one to examine it closer, it was incomprehensible. Between the scribbles and torn papers, what they were working on seemed to be a sword. I had never before seen them craft any weapons before. Grenades and turrents, yes, but not an actual blade. Something in it did not sit right with me.

Before I could examine the design further, they all but tore the paper from my hands. I was taken aback by their strange behavior.

"You didn't need to do that", I replied, a little hurt.

"It's still unfinished", Papaver said, as if that was any sort of explanation.

"I see. When was the last time you slept?" I asked instead.

"I don't have the time", the answer was as curd as the last one.

"What on Tyria is so important about that that you neglect yourself?" I asked, worry slipping to irritation at that point.

"I- I need to finish this. I think it's best for you to leave." With that, they turned their back to me and returned to their work.

I felt like I should have stayed and argued further, but something in their behaviour told me that if I tried to push, they were ready to push back. So, I walked the workplace, but I lingered in the area, hoping to find some clues to this mystery. What had possessed Papaver to work so feverishly on this cryptic sword?

The duo left the Grove behind, turning almost immediately left and continuing the empty path past Mossheart Garden.

Certainly the mystery deepened, as a warden walked in to Papaver's workshop, and after a moment, they both took their leave, heading to upper floor.

I made the error of trailing behind them. To my defense, I was curious, and even more concerned. And I wanted answers, and if they were not sharing them willingly,I had to find another way.

There was an another sylvari waiting for them. His leaves were pale pink, dipping into a deeper purple, and his appearance seemed innocuous enough, at least if one did not notice the uncomfortableness that both Papaver and the Warden radiated around him.

"Oh dear, you look terrible", the pink sylvari remarked as he stepped close to Papaver, and stroked their hair, a gesture so overtly familiar and tender it felt more like a parody of the act, "I assume you have good news for me. Show me the sword, wouldn't you?"

"No, and you won't be getting it from me", Papaver pushed Dinadan's hand away and replied, voice tense and strung with defiance, "I won't work on your dirty schemes anymore. I am over you, Dinadan."

The plastered smile on Dinadan's face dropped.

"Ah, unfortunate. Puppy has finally learnt how to bark, hm?" the tone of the pink sylvari was nowhere near the casualness of the spoken words.  

I gripped the hilt of my sword, about to step in to whatever was going on in this tense scene, when Dinadan spoke again:

"But before that, I'd like to welcome our special guest. Commander, care to join us?"

I felt a strong glaw grip my shoulder, and it became clear I had not been as unseen follower as I thought I'd be. The glaw-wearing person rudely pushed me towards the rest of the party, making sure they kept their hand on me.

Papaver's anger had been snuffed out like a candle, now their face only had a mixed look of fear and shame. I wish there had been something I could have said to them, but all I could offer was somewhat apologetic look.

"I must thank you for your presence, commander Nettle", Dinadan talked, stepping too close to my liking. My instincts told me to back away, but I couldn’t move. “I was already dreading I’d have to find alternative ways to persuade our mutual friend here, but then you kindly offer yourself as a much more solution.”

"Keep away from hir", Papaver protested, "Ze has nothing to do with-"

"Don't dare to interrupt me", Dinadan almost hissed, and continued in his regular, unsettling tone: "also, I order you to stay put until we're done here."

Papaver stopped in their tracks, pertified with magic and something else. I tried to blink away, but as I was dematerializing, the glaw pierced my shoulder, and the pain and poison that pulsed through made it impossible for me to focus my magic.

"Now that's a good boy. Remember, next time we meet, you should bring the sword with you. Don’t worry, I’ll personally take good care of the commander while ze is in my care. Hope to hear from you soon~”

With the final remark, he snapped his fingers, and a teleportation portal appeared around us. In a flash, we were gone, leaving Papaver behind and taking me somewhere I did not know.

[imagines4undertale]

Hello there! I am happy to find another blog for these! Hope you are doing well and staying safe. My ask is for Red, Mutt, and Brass. How would they deal with somebody flirting with their s/o and they are clearly uncomfortable? What would the out come be? Again stay safe and take as much time as possible!

I’m doing pretty good all things considered! I don’t have the time I originally thought I would, but I’m still dedicated to getting this blog rolling! This last week steam rolled me with school work so it took me a little longer than it normally will to reply. So, as this is my first ask these answers are going to be a little longer than they will likely be in the future. I hope you enjoy and tell me what you think!

------------------------

[UF!Sans(Red)-]

Red is always very protective of his s/o even if he doesn’t always show it outwardly. It mostly comes from taking care of his brother when he was little, so anytime someone he cares for is in danger or scared he is not going to think twice about stepping in. I’d say that the only time someone would get the chance to make his s/o uncomfortable to this degree without stepping in to scare the guy off would be if they seperated at a store or if they were meeting up somewhere for a date night. 

You would be standing on the side of a movie theater with your butt resting on the wall waiting for Red to show up to watch the new thriller that just came out. He’s texting you that he was on his way, but his bro insisted that he put on a clean coat as “HE NEEDED TO SHOW HE WAS AN ACCEPTABLE DATE MATE” and “HE COULDN’T DEFILE THE TERRIBLE PAPYRUS’ IMAGE, BY BEING SUCH A SLOB” and he would be there in a few. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and you look up from your phone to see a guy a few inches taller than you. He tells you that you have nice eyes and that it would be even nicer if you would give him your number. You decline nicely, saying you’re spoken for and are just waiting for your date. His face sours for a moment before he bounces back saying that it’s just a number and it wouldn’t hurt to just give it to him, your boyfriend doesn’t need to know. At this point, your gut is making knots and you feel uncomfortable with how close he’s getting. When he’s practically towering over you, you hastily tell him you’re really not interested in handing your number out to strangers. He looks like he’s about to speak again you see a skeletal hand tightly grip his shoulder. 

“hey bud” Red’s voice rumbles out from behind the guy. “my lady friend ‘ere doesn’ seem to like your attention.” You could see the man visibly shutter before he turned around to face Red and smacked his hand off. You can see Red’s face from around the man’s arm. If looks could kill. Red’s eyes were empty and his smile looked tight on his face. “if i were you i’d get lost before i make you.” The man seemed to hesitate for a second before he muttered a small “fine” and shuffled around the corner. Red sighs as he relaxes his posture some and looks at you with his pinpricks returning. “you ok sweetheart?” You tell him you’re ok, just a little shaken. He takes your hands and raises them to give a skelle-kiss. “text me next time something like that happens hun, i’ll be there in an instant, angry brother be damned.”

[SF!Papyrus(Mutt)-]

Mutt lives up to his name. He’s like any good mutt dog, he is loyal to a fault, gentle, kinda lazy, but very protective when it is clear his loved ones are in danger. For the most part, his height and general air keeps people away from you, but if people start talking to you he’ll only step in when you seem to be out of your comfort zone. He knows you can take care of your own safety for the most part, so he doesn’t want you to feel like he thinks you can’t take care of yourself by stepping in too soon. 

He’s looking through some different honey mustard at the store and you are halfway down the isle gathering other items on the list. You had offered to go to the store with him and help since his  brother insisted Mutt go so he wouldn’t be late for training with Alphys. It wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed since it required him to move, but going with you made it more than okay. Mostly because you did most of the work. He had almost made the choice between his favorite mustards when he noticed you had started up a conversation with another person in the aisle. He had grabbed a particularly high and stubborn box for you on the top shelf and handed it to you. You seemed thankful and turned back to the list to mark it off. The guy took a look up and down your body, stopping in some not so savory spots. Strike one. You turned back to him when you realized he hadn’t walked off after helping you and he continued to talk to you about something. Your face scrunched up and your smile dropped like a rock at something he said. Strike two. Shaking your head, you told him no and pointed to the list in your hand. He reached his hand up to lean on the shelves and hovered down over you a bit. Mutt felt his body tense, he was just waiting for one movement and he would be there to plant this guy through the linoleum floor. He saw your head turn toward him and your sweet eyes just read help. Strike three. Before the guy could blink his arm was in a powerful vice grip. Mutt felt the tool struggle, but pulled him away from you about five feet before lifting him up by his arm to eye level. “look here buddy, i’m not one to go picking bones, but when a lady tells you to lay off you’d better lay t h e  f u c k  o f f.” Mutt’s voice reverberated off the aisles in an unnatural way like it was echoing of every surface. He dropped the guy flat on his ass, who then proceeded to scramble off and presumably out of the store. Mutt looked back to you only to realize the few people at the ends of the aisle were staring at him warily.

“hey kitty, i think you and i might want to hurry this whole thing up and get out of here.” You continue your shopping at a faster speed with more of Mutt’s help until he lowers his head to your level. “i forgot to ask you back there if you were doing ok. got worried we might get kicked out for that.” You tell him you’re okay, and give him a kiss on the cheek. His bones flare orange for a moment before he smiles and continues down the aisle by your side.

[MF!Sans(Brass)-]

Yeah, Brass isn’t letting anyone you don’t authorize within 5 feet of you unless he knows them. Being in his line of work, he knows that anyone could be a danger to him and the people he loves. If he can’t be with you his brother has to be there, or undyne, or any of the dogs, but never alone in public. So yeah no, this isn’t happening. That being said, if someone within the family tried to flirt with you…

You like to go walk around main street on the weekends to look at the shops and get some fresh air. Normally, Brass will come with you and spoil you with some new dress or a sweet from one of the shops, but today he was called in for a mission. Most of the higher ups of the family had been called in as well so that left you under the care of one of the newer dog recruits. Brass promised you that he would finish up as fast as he could and would make up for it with a nice dinner out that night. You really didn’t mind, you know he works hard despite his lazy label from the rest of the family. What you do mind is the way the new meat was eyeing you. It was common for you to gain attention for being the arm candy of one of the top mafia men of the city, but it didn’t usually land solely on your chest and behind. You had tried to make small talk with him as you did with many of your temporary guards, but most of it came back to your looks or why you were with your skeletal lover when you could get with anyone. Eventually, you just opted for silence instead.

You saw a store you visit regularly and went to push open the door. Quickly, your dog guard pushes in behind you one hand on the door to push and one firmly placed on your rear. It pasted in the blink of an eye, but it had happened nonetheless. You feel the urge to scream at him and run off, but that would call attention to you and leave you without protection till you got home. There had been more than one attempt on your life at this point and as much as you hated this, it was better than the alternative. You bought the things you wanted from the shop and walked back out of the shop, this time making the dog leave first, and told him you wished to head back home. The two of you started on your way back with him about a foot behind you. Everything was fine until you had turned the corner near where you had parked and he pulled you into an alleyway by your wrist. He slammed your back into the wall and pinned you in with his arms on either side of your head. 

“What on earth do you think you’re doing!” You yell in his face as you push on his chest to get him off.

“Oh come on, I want a little of what the Boss man is getting. How much is he paying you for your services? I’ll match it and he’ll be none the wiser.” He leaned down with a wolfish grin as he reached down to lift your skirt.  

“I am NOT a prostitute!” You swiftly knee him in the balls and shove him away from you. The dog stumbles back clutching his wound. He looks up at you and raises a clawed hand to bring down on you before he is grabbed by the back of his jacket and tossed like a wet rag out of the alley. Brass stands before you now with heaving breaths. 

“sorry i’m late toots.” He quips to you before following the dog he just bounced off the concrete. “might wanna to stay there till I finish this up.” 

You hear screaming from outside the alley with what sounds like some rushed apologies and a particularly loud crack. Brass walks back into the alley after about 10 minutes with the dog in toe, tail between his legs. He has a particularly large bruise on his eye and is clutching his arm. His apology is long and he ends it with a deep bow to you. 

“���right you mutt, be on your way before i break something else.” Brass flicks his head toward the alley entrance and the dog bolts off with a noticeable limp. Once he’s gone, Brass gives an audible sigh and picks you up bridal style. You attempt to protest, but he insists he take you to the car. “i know you’re not a fan o’ my tactics when it comes to these things love, but i have to make sure they know who’s boss.” He places you gently in the passenger seat of the car before getting in the driver’s site. “now, how’s ‘bout i take us home and we eat in tonight instead? I’ll spoil you n’ everything sugar.” He winks as he starts up the car. 

(First answer, and I hope you like it, tell me what you think!)

[minseologs]

concealment of your thoughts, feelings, and character: part 1/4

ft. anti_resolution, FLOWHElST,  rubicusit, 0NAIR

“Whatever you say in this room could be used for the investigation. Everything you say will and could be used for the disappearance of Minseo Choi. Any false anecdotes is punishable by law. You are being recorded and filmed, do you understand?” 

~

“Wow. Imagine that,” Wenhan’s father disrupts the family’s time together, watching some reports around the inner circle’s situations. “Choi family is literally crumbling down. Maybe we can use this time to get them.” Wenhan shows a glint of annoyance, trying to figure out if there was any other news other than the fact Minseo was in danger. Before he could make a decision to speak, the television turns off right before his eyes.

“I need you to figure out what’s going on. Put a visit maybe?” Cheng bids his son an instruction, noticing a hesitant demeanor. “Oh don’t tell me you’re actually liking that girl?”

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.” He speaks in a ‘matter of fact’ tone. He had always liked challenging his father when it came to matters that could and only benefit him. “But I guess Minseo was never the issue here for you, anyway, no?”

“This is for your future.”

He rolls his eyes discretely, sighing softly as he leaves his father’s study. It’s true, it was never about Wenhan and Minseo. They were just collateral in all of this. It was competition with everything.

“Right.”

~

“And what’s your relation to Ms.Choi?”

Changying was confused, a stupid question being thrown at her was not part of her recovery process.

“I’m her secretary— and her friend,” she furrows her brows which catches the eyes of the investigators. “I guess.”

“You guess? When an heiress is missing, everyone is a target.” They show still-shots of the camera that night just before they enter the outside premises. From the moment they entered the elevator, to the way they exited through that car lot. Not the ones where the men had come up around them. “Now, we need to know what happened before you were found.”

“After this a group of men attacked us. We were able to hold them off for a while  and—“ and that’s when it clicks to her that she doesn’t remember much after. Changying tries her best for a moment, “And then I just blacked out.... I dont remember much after getting here. Forgive me.”

When the ordeal happened, Changying’s body was found in the back of the parking lot by a guard. She was recovering from an electric shock, assumed to be something stronger than a taser. The timeline was short before she reports the situation and all leads don’t point to who kidnapped Minseo.

“Has there been anything different with Ms. Choi lately?”

~

"Is mommy coming home soon?” Jinwoo’s voice was soft, cuddling Woori’s form as she tucks him in. From what was going on, it startles her and she was unsure of what to say. 

She had offered to take care of her child as the whole situation unfolded, much to the dismay of her company. They thought that anything negative attached to ‘that side’ of her family can destroy her name. Woori knew that very well, too, but she didn’t care. The public doesn’t truly know they were related and to the wishes of everyone, it was kept a secret from her fans. 

“Well... your mom had something important that came up...” Her voice was gentle, moving stray hairs away from his eyes. They looked like Minseo’s. “And... She told me that she was just gonna be gone for a little while... But don’t worry. She’ll be back soon.”

“When do you think she’ll be back?” his eyes were innocent. Puffing up his cheeks because he was upset that she didn’t come home. In his mind, Minseo was just on a trip somewhere and should call soon. Her eyes glisten, the worry over her face slowly washing over because she didn’t have an answer. Jinwoo senses something but the child was unsure of the feeling. She didn’t have an answer, no one did.

“Soon.” 

~

“It just doesn’t sound right to me—“ Benjamin crosses his arms, the investigators were interviewing another person around Minseo at the time of the incident. She had met Benji a few hours before but it wasn’t for work. Though he was honest it was just a meet up, the way he acted sure brought a bit of suspicion. “I dont know... This is just weird to me. Noona wont just have enemies like that, unless it’s someone she already knew, you know?” 

“What do you mean, Mr. Lee?”

“Well... She’s always talking about how stressful recent issues were... I mean, about work. And her family but I can’t say a lot. I promised her it was just between us but I can tell you it’s something about against her sister. ” The investigators were curious and attempts to inquire more about the issue. Benjamin refuses and just shrugs. His alibi could be used for something.

“If you want to know something, you’re gonna have to ask Uncle Jungnam about that.”

~

“Can you tell us about the recent changes of the company?”

“I’ve decided, after my retirement, to hand off everything to Minseo.” Jungnam speaks clearly. His hands clasp over the table as his sight was alternating between the men interviewing him. He purses his lips, seemingly worried about her for a moment. “It brought great stress, of course. As one would. It’s a lot of responsibility. There is one person I can think of that didn’t like that decision.” 

"And who would that be?”

“My eldest.” He sighs, putting his eldest on the line but manages to steer the topic to make sure no fingers were pointed. “She is in China with her husband, I dont believe that she can cause harm but I spoke to her not long ago. I can give her information if you’d like.” 

Before they continue, his phone rings of an unknown number, he picks up and a whimper was heard. It startled everyone in the room and thought their father was the suspect, but it wasn’t so. 

“H-Hello...? Papa...? It’s Minseo...” 

[gigili-jiggly]

can you list your favorite klance fics ://

(i’m not sure how to respond to your ‘ :// ‘ emoji, but i’ll take any excuse to gush about fics lol)

I have so many favorite fics, so I’ll just list some oneshots for now so that this list doesn’t become too long 

(I might post a list of more oneshots and ongoing fics if anyone is interested!)

SFW Oneshots: 

you’re lucky that’s what i like by @zenstrike

Lance rescues a hamster from certain doom.

or, Lance has Keith wrapped around his little finger and doesn’t even realize it.

This is literally the cutest and softest klance series I’ve read in a long time!! It gives me lots of feelings and feeds my need for lovestruck Keith ladfajdifjdsklf

hey, mom, i met a boy by @mothpoem

“Sweetheart,” says Lance, his hair longer, his shoulders broader, the slope of his nose uneven now where it didn’t used to be, “you don’t know the half of it.”

LISTEN. This fic owns my ass, it’s so good. It has all my favorite tropes (marriage proposals, visions of the future, love realizations, etc.) and every moment between Lance and Keith is so sweet and full of love hnnngh. 

i know what you did last summer by seventies

Saving angry, mysterious damsels in distress multiple times weren’t in the job description of being a lifeguard. It would have been slightly bearable if only everyone would stop asking Lance if he remembered what he did last summer. What really happened, anyway? AU

Pining Keith? Oblivious Lance? A little bit of Memory Loss? Heck yeah!!! This fic also made me laugh a lot, so I always reread this when I need a pick-me-up

this, our town of halloween by @tobiologist

“Yeah, well, it’s written all over both of your faces,” Lance hisses. “It’s not a big deal.”

Pidge taps her chin. “Oh, you mean Keith, the local introvert and your ex-rival, creeping out of his cave to go to a huge Halloween celebration with you and your little niece and nephew? Of course that’s not a big deal. Silly me!”

Or: Lance invites Keith to Disneyland on Halloween and glimpses an entirely new side of the boy he has a stupidly massive crush on.

Lately, I’ve been loving tropes where people go on a ‘date’, insist that it’s not a date and then finally realize it’s a date. Also, pining Lance is good shit. 

Smell as Sweet by ultimateparadox

Coffee and love, Lance thinks, are the only universal constants.

Established relationship!!! Marriage proposals!!! Becoming a family!!! Everything here is amazing!!!

Bastion by Foxcote

In a healing universe, Keith and Lance await the arrival of their daughter.

I am a sucker for klance as parents, and one scene in particular between Keith and Krolia really captured my heart

In every reality, I reach for you by @enlacinglineswrites

Stories inspired the Klance AU month prompts.

I love drabble series and this one right here has so many interesting and wonderful aus! I read it time and time again like a morning newspaper lol. 

Somewhere a Clock is Ticking by @emphasis-all-mine

This is a story about time travel, lost memories, growing up broken, ukulele lessons, peanut butter banana sandwiches, and a stuffed hippo named Patches.

This is also the story of how James Griffin saved the world, but couldn’t stop his parents from falling in love.

Literally the fic that made me warm up to James! I’ve always loved time travel stories and the characterizations in this fic is so fun and enjoyable, I hold it very close to my heart! Also, klance family aldjofiadjfdf

5 + 1 times: lance and the search for keith’s boyfriend by @starwar 

Who could it be?!

Lance tried to convince himself it wasn’t jealousy… it was just friendly concern. He had to ensure that whoever Keith was with treated him well, not that Keith needed Lance to look after him, but still, Keith deserved the world and Lance wanted to make sure whoever he was with gave that to him.

Just buddy-buddy concerns.

or alternatively; 5 + 1 times lance doesn’t realise he’s keith’s boyfriend

Oblivious Lance who doesn’t know he’s Keith’s boyfriend? Bet your ass I’m gonna read that!!

chaser of fate by freshia

Where Lance thinks everyone else is really frickin’ weird, the others spend copious amounts of time trying to get him to just remember, and Keith just wants to (re?)live his life.

(Modern Reincarnation AU where the biggest threat to face, is the looming deadlines for essays.)

One of the first klance fics I’ve read and one that I absolutely consider a classic. I love me some reincarnation au’s, and I love how this one is nice and not too angsty! 

Save the Date by @thathopelessromantic 

They had gotten married in the middle of a war, on an alien spaceship, both boasting major injuries. It was rushed and short and the team was thrust into battle almost immediately after “I do.” But afterwards, after some insistent questioning from Keith, Lance admitted to things he had let himself imagine for their wedding, were they to have had one on Earth.

Cute established and married klance celebrating their anniversary, what more can a girl want? 

Speak for the Stars by @speakswords 

All Lance has ever wanted is to prove his worth. So, maybe it’s fitting that the Black Lion picked him right when Lotor betrayed them and Shiro’s clone went rogue. Right when the team was at its lowest and closest to failing.

The desire for glory that Lance grew up with—that drove him to join the Garrison and pursue fighter class, that drove him into his one-sided rivalry with Keith, that drove him after Keith in the Sonoran Desert and into Blue’s cockpit and into space and into the war in the first place—it’s a relic of the past for him now. All he wants these days is to keep his friends alive and the Coalition afloat, and he tries his best, despite the pervasive fear that he isn’t the right person for this monumental task. Despite the growing certainty that Black picked the wrong guy.

This fear will be put to the ultimate test when the mess that ensnares the team after the clone disaster turns out to be a labyrinth more winding than any of them were prepared for. Because Lance might just be the only person equipped to lead them through this maze and into the light.

I love those tropes where peeps get stuck in their own dreams and someone has to help them snap out of it. This fic does this wonderfully with Lance and I loved Keith’s dream in here, it was so sweet

in every reality, we meet by ULTIOcean

Small one-shots about our favorite team, taken from a prompt list on tumblr for the October Writting Challenge, in which i’ll write 31 short stories, unrelated to each other, each insipred by the prompt of the day.

i adore this drabble series, each chapter is such a unique take on the prompt! 

you’ve got a hand for the taking (i’m about to take it to the moon) by seabear

“I think,” Lance says, squinting, “he’s a vampire.”

one of my comfort fics to be honest. i really really like their interactions here and the confession scene makes me very happy

where & how we’ll land by @ephemelody 

The first time Keith meets Lance is also the first time they kiss. It all goes downhill for him from there.

looking for a childhood klance fic that is so so good? this one is a classic!!!

Complete Mature/Explicit Oneshots: 

assemble by groovystars

‘there was an idea- katie and hunk know about it- called the voltron initiative. the plan was-is, god, it is- to bring together a group of remarkable people, and see if together they could become something more. to fight the battles we never could. i wasn’t sure though. just knew that katie and hunk could do it, maybe lance if he wasn’t knee-deep in cover work. but now that cap’s used to the century and keith kogane turned up from the dead, and we have a literal god on our hands… now- now i think we can do that. i think we can believe in heroes.’

aka the marvel au that’s probably already been done

As a huge Marvel fan, this is an amazing superhero au!! It has klance and shatt, as well as lotor and allura in a thor and loki dynamic! 

i like me better when i’m with you by @reader115 

His mother’s advice when the war is over? That he should ask for what he wants.

Keith joins Lance and his family on their farm, and Lance wishes for a never ending visit.

i’ve read so many post-canon fics when vld ended and this one is one of my absolute favorites. It’s because of this fic that i started associating the song with klance, haha! I love the characterizations and the overall sweetness/lovey dovey feeling the fic has and aldoifjaidfd I just love reading this over and over again

there are worse things i could do by @peachgrdn 

His chest went tight when he recalled Keith’s face. What did it have to mean? They’d never been lovers; that much was clear.

When Lance goes out to buy himself a gift for his own pleasure, it comes with a little emotional baggage. Only just as he thinks he can manage it, Keith throws himself into the mix, and Lance realizes he must come to terms with buried feelings.

honestly, i consider lyssy the queen for fluffy and feely smut lol. I love her humor in this one as well as the many feels it gives me…just aldkjodfa i love this fic a lot okay?

kiss me (like it hurts) by mottainai

Purple light streamed through his kitchen window from the neon sign across the street, getting tangled in Keith’s hair and painted on the planes of his shoulders. He held his breath, afraid to disturb the moment. Keith’s eyes were on his, too soft to be coming from a dangerous man. Lance could see himself becoming caught in the gap in his teeth, pressed into the groves of his calloused hands, inked across his ribs. It should terrify him, the kind of terror of one looking into the belly of the beast.

But it didn’t.

Or: Keith and Lance, told through arguments and resolutions

i’m such a sucker for gangster keith stuff and this fic here has one of my favorite takes on it. perfect for rereading again and again! 

lure by chaeriee 

Becoming indebted to Keith Kogane was not a part of Lance’s future plans. Falling for him, even less so.

another gangster keith fic and it has almost all of my guilty pleasures in it uwu. i love those /person A needs to pay off a debt and works for person B while unknowingly becoming the most important one to them’ storylines haha! 

 Alpha Affairs by marizousbooty

Keith and Lance take a romantic vacation to the mountains for a snowy weekend getaway.

vampire lance and werewolf keith….doing it….good stuff

Heaven in hiding by i_write_shakespeare_not_disney

Keith finds something interesting in Lance’s drawer and it leads to one of the most amazing nights of his life.

insecure lance in lingerie and keith helping him become comfortable with it? sexy. 

Beast of Burden by melancholymango

“Keith, no, we can’t go again.” Lance pleads fall on deaf ears. Keith is honed in on him now like predator to prey. He’s fighting a losing battle and they both know it. He sees it in the way Keith is raking his eyes over him, sizing him up. “We’ll be so late getting to the bar.”

“Just one more.” Keith insists, herding Lance toward the counter with a stubbornness that is innately wolf. Lance pouts, but he doesn’t have anywhere else to go but backward.

“That’s what you said last time! And the time before that!”

–

The week leading up to a supermoon, as told by the world’s best werewolf boyfriend, Lance McClain. The good, the bad, and the horny.

I read this on Halloween and I’m not even ashamed of how much I enjoyed this. This fic made me very very biased towards werewolf keith lol. 

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy Birthday, sincenothinglasts

July 10-Daisy/Loki, something with hurt/comfort, lots of feels, and a happy ending maybe with (nonsexual) “I just want to be close to someone for a little bit. Is that okay?” or “Please stay. I’d like some company.”, please! And if you could insert a little bit of jealousy somewhere, it would be perfect, for @sincenothinglasts

Written by @ladywinterlight

Note: I have seen Avengers: Endgame and there are minor spoilers. I hope that’s cool with everyone.

This is loosely based on the alternate timeline where Loki escaped with the Tesseract. Pre-series AoS, though who knows what would’ve happened with AoS in that timeline. Happy birthday!

Loki didn’t know why she fascinated him so.

He’d caught glimpses of her, in the chaos of the attack on New York City. She should’ve been just another mortal, so very beneath him. And yet.

The Tesseract gave him the ability to skip about the cosmos at will, sometimes at random, even to places his magic couldn’t readily take him. And somehow he continually found himself back on Midgard, just slightly out of phase with the rest of her reality.

Watching. Listening.

At first, he thought perhaps it was some lingering effect of the control stone in the scepter he’d carried while doing Thanos’ bidding. Some unknown way the magic had affected his mind. But as the effects faded, his fascination with her remained steady.

She had so much potential, something he sensed just under the surface. She also carried so much pain, though it never showed when she interacted with others. Even if most of her ‘interaction’ was through the computers she had set up in her tiny mobile living space.

A ‘van’ she’d called it, once or twice, in his hearing.

Even cloaked, he didn’t dare linger around her constantly. But he kept coming back, for some unknown reason.

~~~~~

Skye knew she was being watched.

She had no idea who it might be, or why they’d be stalking her in particular; she’d never been truly caught hacking, Stark and his AIs aside, not even electronically. Other than Miles, who just wanted back into her pants, and Matt, who she’d mostly distanced herself from to avoid hurting his career as a lawyer with her less-than-legal activities, Skye didn’t really have any friends.

But she had somehow acquired a part-time, invisible watcher.

Maybe it was some kind of alien, watching her to learn more about human behavior. The idea made her scoff at herself, but after the Chitauri invasion… it wasn’t entirely unbelievable, either.

Though why they’d have chosen her was less understandable. She wasn’t anything special.

When the feeling of being watched hadn’t dissipated by dinnertime, she assembled her usual - canned tuna fish sandwiches - and set the plastic plate down between herself and the ‘empty’ space in her van.

“Whomever you are, you must be hungry,” she said aloud, as her eyes skittered around the space. “You could stay. I’d like some company.”

Loki was taken aback. He’d never been noticed before, no matter whom he’d silently spied upon. But… this was Midgard, and he would hardly expect to be welcome if he showed himself. But then the second comment registered. He hesitated, uncertain. Of course, he could always use the Tesseract or his own magic to take him away if she reacted poorly to his presence.

Perhaps it was worth the risk.

Skye’s breath caught sharply when the air shimmered for a moment, revealing the previously hidden figure. He looked ridiculously imposing in his black and green armor, despite being tucked casually into a corner of her van.

Her eyes traced their way up his face until their gazes met, and she fought back the urge to recoil.

Loki. She recognized him from televised clips of the incident in Germany and the battle in New York.

And yet, he hadn’t attacked her in any of his prior visits. She’d had the sensation of being watched on and off for a few months, and she was still fine.

So she ventured a small smile. “Nice to meet you, I think? I’m Skye. But you probably knew that.”

After watching her, Loki knew she had a tendency to talk when nervous. She tended to brazen her way out of awkward situations, but he had also seen her out-think potential trouble. So he simply responded with a smile of his own. “I did, but it is nice to make your acquaintance properly.”

She studied him for a long, quiet moment. Then she nudged the plate closer to him. “I’d imagine tuna is beneath the palette of the would-be king of the world, but it’s food. I don’t mind sharing.”

“I would not be so rude as to refuse such a generous offer,” he replied, lightly mocking but in a friendly way. Much to his own surprise. “Though I daresay it’s beneath such a clever individual as yourself as well.”

Rolling her eyes at his teasing, Skye just shrugged. “Cleverness doesn’t come with a paycheck, and cheap food is still enough to get by on.”

Loki reached for a sandwich and tried a bite as she watched. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but certainly nothing like he was accustomed to. “Thank you for sharing,” he said lowly; even if it wasn’t much, it had been a long time since someone had offered to share with him from what little they had. He watched as she picked up another sandwich and started to eat.

“You’re welcome. It’s only polite, you know?”

He gave a little shrug. “Some on your world would say I have already proven I do not deserve courtesy.”

His comment made Skye chuckle and she shook her head. “Many would say I don’t deserve courtesy, either. I’m just a poor orphan, living in my van.”

The sheer lack of judgment in her tone or in her expression as their eyes met again made Loki’s heart skip a beat. No one, other than Frigga, had ever made him want to be completely honest with them. And yet, Skye did. “Then we have something in common.”

Skye watched quietly as the mask Loki wore, carefully guarding his thoughts and feelings, cracked a bit. She caught sight of the deeply held pain in his eyes, if only briefly. It made him seem more human. “Well, I’m guessing you don’t live in a van, so…”

“Twas not long ago that I learned the truth, that the parents I thought I had are not truly mine,” Loki finished for her, his tone more subdued than she’d ever expected from him.

She frowned, tilting her head inquisitively. “You’re adopted? That’s not so bad.”

Loki blinked at her. “They lied to me. My whole life, they lied. They let me believe they were my parents, when in truth I was the monster they sheltered in order to prevent another war.”

“Were they cruel to you?” she asked bluntly. “Did they beat you, starve you, or lock you in a closet when you cried?” Visibly startled, Loki shook his head. “Did they raise you, love you, to the best of their ability?” This time he nodded. Skye shrugged and went back to her sandwich. “Then they’re your parents. Blood doesn’t make family. God knows, there are a few families I always wished would’ve adopted me.”

“But I am a monster, the enemy they all speak of with such disdain,” Loki protested.

“I don’t understand,” Skye admitted readily. “But if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

Carefully placing his half-eaten sandwich back on the plate, Loki ran his hands through his hair in agitation. “I don’t think you can understand,” he began, but paused when she scoffed.

“So explain. If you can explain why it’s such a big deal, I should be able to get it,” she pointed out.

So he told her. Described the long wars between Asgard and Jotunheim, the longstanding hatred between the races. Growing up with a hereditary enemy, one his so-called brother had sworn to eradicate when they were still children. And then the shock of encountering them in battle for himself, reacting differently on a physical and magical level than he’d expected. Forcing the truth from Odin’s lips, and his growing self-hatred… never worse than when Odin rejected him and his attempt to destroy the monsters.

As if that would destroy the monster in himself as well.

They’d long since finished eating by the time the story was done. Somewhere along the line they’d moved; Skye half reclined on a pile of pillows and Loki found himself leaning into her embrace, her arms wrapped around him comfortingly.

“I get it,” she offered quietly when the silence drew out between them. “I was always classed as a troublemaker, too. I only ever wanted a place to belong, and to keep the kids younger than me safe from the bad families. I mean, no one was at war or anything. But some people here foster kids just because the government pays them for it. Some don’t care about the kids, or even really want them. The good families… the ones who made you feel safe, the ones you thought you could maybe stay with… they were a lot fewer and further between. So… I understand. I know the feeling of wanting to belong so badly, and reacting badly when you find out that you never can.” Skye sighed. “Your parents love you, though; I hope you can see that. And maybe, someday, you can make things right with them. On both sides, yours and theirs. I kinda envy that, you know? They’re still around, so you still have a chance to fix those relationships.”

“How are you so wise for one so young?” Loki asked rhetorically. He felt strangely light, unburdened. And with a bit of hope, for the first time in Norns knew how long.

“Kids in the system don’t get to be kids for long,” Skye answered anyway. “I may not be a thousand years old, but I’ve seen more than my share of crap.”

“I would like to show you some of the beauty in the galaxy, if you’d let me,” Loki offered. “There’s a great deal of it out there.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded, her tone noncommittal. She doubted he actually meant it, but it was a nice thought. “But I think you probably ought to go see your family first.” She was interrupted by a yawn.

“I should let you sleep,” Loki began, gathering himself for a dismissal.

“You could stay,” she offered again. It was probably not the brightest idea she’d ever had, and yet somehow the risk seemed worth it when his demeanor brightened. “Not a lot of space, but you can share.”

“I can… enlarge the space, if you’d like?” he suggested tentatively. “With magic.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that,” Skye responded immediately. Loki didn’t need to do anything as trite as wave a wand or cast a complicated spell. Instead, she watched a look of concentration cross his face and then the space in her van just sort of seemed to… bend. Suddenly there were several feet between the futon where they rested and the walls of the van, and her computers were further down the length of the space as well. A flick of his fingers caused her pillows to suddenly multiply and the futon expanded until there was more than enough room for two.

“That’s awesome. I wish I could do that every night,” Skye enthused.

“I… I don’t know if Midgardians have magical aptitude. If you do… then perhaps you could learn,” Loki answered with a faint smirk. “I am pleased you like it.” It had been a long time since his ability to magically adapt his surroundings for comfort had been appreciated, and he’d forgotten how good it felt to provide for another.

“I do,” she affirmed. Then she waved her hand toward the magically created pillows. “Make yourself comfortable.” She shifted her own pillows and blankets around until she was comfortable. When she settled, she was a little surprised to see Loki lie down right beside her, despite ample space.

“I just want to be close to someone for a little while,” Loki explained. “Is... that okay?”

Skye smiled and shifted closer. He wrapped an arm around her and she pillowed her head on his shoulder. “It’s okay with me. Good night, Loki.”

“Good night, Skye.”

It had been years since either of them slept so peacefully and so well. But that night, they did.

[loftec]

I was really hoping to update NTW this weekend, but it’s looking less and less likely... so, here’s something else.

I found an alternate season 6/7 thing I started outlining when that whole mess went down, like just ideas for how Ian’s storyline could have worked out after season 5 (I would have included the other characters too, but honestly I don’t know what they’ve been up to since I stopped watching. Fiona bought a building. For some reason. I don’t want to know.).

So I’ve added some stuff for season 8 and 9, and since I’m probably never going to write it I thought I’d just share it for laughs.

May the 4th be with you!

Alt Shameless after season 5

Ian is on his meds and since he broke up with Mickey because he thought he’d be better off alone, he doesn’t go looking for new boyfriends.

He sleeps around a lot though.

He doesn’t have a lot of storyline, because he’s mostly clammed up and moping around, and his family keep assuming that it’s because of his meds.

Maybe four episodes in, something happens at work that makes Ian seek out an LGBT+ group, where he meets Trevor at a charity event. They work together all day and really hit it off, they have some similar interests (interests!), and they end up talking about a lot of things (things!). At the end of the day, Trevor asks him out, and Ian says yes before he’s remembered that he doesn’t do that stuff.

He’s nervous about the date and drinks a couple of beers before Trevor even shows up, he gets piss drunk and wakes up the next day in a strange room.

It’s Trevor’s bedroom, and Trevor comes in with coffee, telling him that Ian was pretty much drunk when he showed up and barely able to stand on his own two legs by the time they left. He doesn’t know where he lives, so he took him home for the night.

Ian tells him about being on meds, and that’s why he got so drunk so fast.

Trevor thinks he could have just told him, and Ian says his mental illness pretty much was the reason his old relationship didn’t work out.

Trevor asks if it was Mickey. Ian wonders what Trevor knows about it.

“You may have mentioned him last night.”

Ian says yeah, and is quick to correct him when Trevor assumes that it was Mickey who left.

“I broke up with him, thought it was the best for the both of us at the time… also don’t think I expected it to last. We usually find our way back.”

“But not this time?”

“He’s in prison. Fifteen years.”

It’s the first time he says it out loud.

Trevor says he’s not interested in starting a relationship with someone who’s clearly still in love with their ex (and Ian kinda smiles, because it’s true and it’s so nice that someone else can see it and accept it and take it seriously). But, he says, you do look like you could use a friend, and not to brag, but I make an excellent friend. He does the cheesy handshake, re-introduction thing (where we find out his last name!) and they agree to be friends.

(Turns out Trevor is estranged from his family, and after maybe a shaky start, he finds a natural spot in the Gallagher clan and becomes part of some of the other plot points throughout the season.)

Ian’s storylines can be about his work, and about stuff happening at the LGBT+ youth center, and they get into hijinks, but nothing super serious (or illegal!!).

Ian at some point has a big moment with Yevgeny, where he comes to terms with no longer being a parent, and maybe even thinking that it’s for the best. (Svetlana and her thrupple storyline can basically be the same, but end differently. With the three of them happy and together, and Yevgeny thinking of Kev as his dad. It’s not ideal, but neither is Yev being sad about his dad being in prison.) Maybe Ian talks to Svetlana about Mickey, maybe finding out for the first time that they aren’t married anymore. We don’t find out what Ian thinks or feels about this.

Throughout the second half of the season. Whenever the Gallaghers gather and Ian isn’t there, they wonder where he is and try to reach him, letting it go when he doesn’t answer.

But after it happens too many times to be a coincidence, they start wondering. Maybe Lip and Fiona talk about it, worrying about Ian having a low, or a high, but not knowing if they should intervene.

Lip talks to Trevor, and tells him more about Ian’s bipolar. Trevor denies having noticed anything going on, and maybe even questions if Lip has any right telling him Ian’s personal stuff.

(Also, I think it would be really nice for Trevor to have a romantic/sexy storyline... so I wouldn’t mind Trevor and Ian starting a friends with benefits relationship, deciding on the terms of it before they start it. Or, Trevor starts a relationship with someone else. Depends on how much drama one wants. Trevor could develop unrequited feelings. If one wants. But personally I think it would be more fun for everyone involved if he was allowed to fall in love with someone else.)

Last episode of the season, they’ve had some big plot point resolved by the Gallaghers getting together and working it out as a goddamned team, and they’re all sitting on the porch steps when a police car stops outside their house.

The officer tells them that Ian is on record as having visited Mickey in prison, and Lip is like, yeah, maybe a couple of times a year ago, what’s that got to do with anything? And the officer says, no, he’s visited once a week for the past six months. And Mickey has escaped. And they have a warrant to search their house.

The Gallaghers sit packed together on the couch watching the news as the officers search through the house, and on the TV we get the whole scoop. There has been a massive prison break and like 40 highly dangerous inmates have escaped, Mickey amongst them.

BOOM. Credits.

Season seven.

Throughout the season, we get like comedic side story lines about the police and the escaped inmates basically roaming the streets. Potentially outrageous and lots of opportunity to oscillate between slapstick comedy and high-stakes drama.

Ian waits for Mickey to contact him, but it doesn’t happen until maybe a couple of episodes in. TENSION.

Ian has other storylines through the season, but mainly it ends up being his secret rendezvous (plural, frequent, in-depth, sexy) with Mickey where they get to spend time together, talk. Bonus if they try to “be friends” for a while, because they don’t talk about the important stuff and they don’t know where they have each other, and they don’t know what’s going to happen. It doesn’t last long, culminating in an explosively passionate love scene.

At some point, Ian is approached by an FBI agent, telling him they have a deal for Mickey if he turns himself in and gives them info on the other escapees. Ian says he’s not in contact with Mickey and even if he was, Mickey would never snitch.

Later on, he talks to Mickey about their future. Mickey explains that the gang he joined in prison are escaping across the border to Mexico, and he has to go with them. Ian says he’ll come with Mickey, but Mickey is firmly against it.

He wants Ian to come with him, of course, but he doesn’t want that life for Ian. No security, a life of crime, on the lam. He kind of gets why Ian broke up with him, now, if this is anything like what he felt at the time, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Ian pleads with him, telling him that breaking up is something he’s only ever regretted since he did it.

Yeah, but what other choice have we got?

Ian tells him about the deal, and takes out two gold bands he’s bought from a pawnshop. If they get married, they can be put in the witness protection program together, and start over.

Mickey agrees, to Ian’s great surprise, and they end the season being shipped off to an unknown location as the busload of prisoners get apprehended on the way to Mexico (cartoonish, but with a little bit of work and research, maybe could be an acceptably goofy and almost realistic plot point).

(For Drama, Mickey could be with the prisoners when they’re apprehended, and he’s shot dead by the police. Cut to Ian being in the ambulance that picks him up, and Mickey is still sitting in his body bag, all bloodied, as they suck face and the FBI drive them to their new location.)

Season 8

Ian and Mickey try to start a new life and it turns completely ridiculous (like, imagine a mix between IASIP where Mac and Dennis are in the house with the Mac & Cheese mixed with like, Suburgatory, or Weeds, or whatever. Two gay South Side kids suddenly trying to make a life for themselves in some middle class suburb somewhere, and they hate it and it all goes to shit. But they love each other and get each other through it.)

The hardship they face in their new life doesn’t come from them, (it’s from situations and circumstance, and other people being impossible) and every time something happens it only leads them to break down another barrier by eventually talking about their feelings and hopes for the future, and thoughts about the past. And I want them specifically to talk about Yevgeny, how hard it was for Mickey to feel anything good about him at first, but now he misses him like he’s missing a limb. Them trying to be a wholesome couple in a suburb somewhere is an unmitigated disaster, but it does help them get a lot closer to each other and work through their problems, and their past.

And then through some Shameless™ retcon, something suddenly makes it possible for them to return back home. Or maybe they’re just like, fuck this, is there anyone stopping us from just grabbing our shit and going home?? No. So they do.

Yevgeny is part of the reason why they return. They move in to the apartment above the Alibi at first, and Mickey can work with Svetlana in the bar and cook up semi-illegal side-hustles with Kev. 

Everybody they know are on their side, denying everything in true South Side style if anyone asks about them, once again solidifying the core concept of the show; we take care of family.

The whole thing where they’re possibly in danger from the Mexican cartel looking to exact revenge for Mickey snitching (if they ever find out that he’s alive) could be played for laughs and brushed off, until it might come back and create more Drama in a later season, if needed, before being permanently resolved.

Characters thinking they’re invincible and being stupid about stuff like this is fine, I think, if they do it for a good reason.

[lettertothedead]

To Me, if I Succeeded

It was a bitter cold October in an unheated apartment at the corner of Ramsey and Kathleen. Snow had arrived before Halloween this year, something that you were informed was quite common in Northern Idaho. If not for their warnings, you wouldn’t have expected it. Like always, you were a newcomer to this town. You had no expectations and you didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Like a discarded doll, you had let them place you here. You were seventeen years old.

The last four years had been spent in and out of rehabilitation, traveling through Utah, Texas, and California. Perhaps that's why time meant so little to you, and space even less. While most teenage girls took this particular span of time to experiment with identity, you had never really gotten the chance to create your own. You had spent the entirety of high school as a traveler, always the new girl in every school, thoroughly examined by your peers until diagnosed as normal. You had learned to act, had learned to be quiet and pliable. You were a passive bystander to your own life.

Of course, the implication of having a life never fit on you either. You spent high school in a variety of different houses, apartments, and wards, but you never had a home. A home implied a seat by the fireplace, family game nights, petty quarrels with your brothers and sister. By the age of sixteen, you forgot what your parents looked like between their visits. You saw them once a year, if that, the imprint of those visits on your psychology lessening every time. One day, you realized that you had not been raised by your parents, or anyone. You had simply sprouted. You were a weed.

For the brief time you spent in psychiatric care in Texas, between guardians, you were allowed a ten minute phone call with each of your siblings. It struck you then, how gentle they were with you, as if they had been told you were fine china or a feral dog. They didn’t prod you or tease you over the phone, they simply talked in slow, quiet voices. This was your identity.

At the turn of the nineteenth century, at the advent of tools like the bicycle, the telephone, the camera and the expansion of the railway, the meaning of time and space shifted. It rattled in its grave before dying entirely, taking Europe with it. It was beautiful, they said, an Englishman could travel to the continent in mere seconds by telephone call. His world suddenly stretched around empty space, light and color blinding him from all angles. The fierce white Russian winters, hot red Spanish summers. Things that the masses could have only shaped with the written word and imagination became vivid reality.

Humans, confused and frightened in shoes too big to fill, stuffed the void where space and time had once been defined with war. I remember sitting in my Modern Poetry lecture in college learning so much about the human impact of such inventions, through the eyes of other writers. I was effectively wearing the skin of Walt Whitman looking out on bountiful, diverse America in all of her hopeful, brutal glory. I remember reading old poetry zines, published in 1919. War, having squashed creatives under his angry boots, milked them for their lifeblood. That’s what we get for trying to play God, by the way, a lot of dead people and some really great writing to add to the portfolio of human suffering.

In the 21st century, narrowness does not exist. Our minds have been stretched so far around space and time that they are aching. The only cavities still left full are the locked perspectives of our neighbors and the vein-like missed opportunities that twist out of our past selves. And we are still probing them. I don’t believe objective truth comes when all space and time has been shed like lizard skin. I want to hold onto something concrete and grounded, even though I know you never believed in it. I hold on so tightly to God, using words I think you can understand to describe his majesty. Then again, you were always cynical.

In a 1952 Dublin lecture hall, Erwin Schrödinger told the crowd that, mathematically, they were inconsequential. He said that the suspension of different histories, the possibility of different realities, were "not alternatives, but all really happen simultaneously". He warned the listeners that this was lunacy and I believe he was right. I know you would think of me as a zealot for believing that some stones should not be turned over, but God’s shoes are too large for you, and me, and Dr. Schrödinger. Then again, you never went to college.

Here’s a laundry list of things you never did. You never looked in the mirror and saw a woman. You never pulled your own strings. You never sat passenger while Tyler drove you to the Safeway parking lot, talking God, and life, and love over cigarettes and The Pixies. You never quit smoking. You never fell in love with anything but yourself, and her reflection in other women. You never learned how to stop being a pendulum between love and hate, happiness and sadness, chest-tightening fear and total calm and by that, I mean you never conquered addiction. You never had the confidence to publish your poetry. You never fell into another person and had them bear your entire weight without faltering, like you would do for them. You never walked down the aisle wearing your mother’s dress and watching your father cry with joy. You never forgave your parents for fucking you up, and you never let them forgive themselves. You never lived to see eighteen.

The crinkled leaves make me wistful and leave me wanting. I live here still, not because of someone placing me, but because I love it. I wouldn’t want to leave. Last year, I graduated college and this year, I’m going to get married. The snow hasn’t fallen yet and it’s already January, but I suspect that has more to do with climate change than divine providence.

My savior was a girl I’ll likely never see again, and I don’t even see her as my savior. She was the Anyman, the good Samaritan. The weight of savior is too heavy for a stranger so instead I am just grateful that time and space lined up to help me, despite the fact that I had forsaken them.

On the ride to the hospital, my vision was blurred, I was slipping in and out of consciousness, humming to the radio under my breath. I could feel myself dying, the pills aching in my stomach as my head knocked against the window. I crashed into the threshold. The driver kept trying to make conversation desperately, bless his heart, trying to keep me with him as he sped past fast food restaurants and neon, the landmarks of this physical body. The radio was loud. I still listen to that station sometimes.

Once I was there, they put tubes in my body and fed me charcoal. I remember thinking vaguely that I had ruined my nicest panties when I shat black and vomited black on my winter coat. It didn’t cross my mind until later how funny such a thought is, when you’re dying, and you’re only thinking about your name brand underwear, the only pair of name brand underwear you own. In the psych ward, I watched Signs on VHS no less than three times as I tried to drown out the screaming child with schizophrenia. I missed the adult ward by a month.

You never lived to see eighteen. You never lived to meet your best friend or the love of your life, to travel to Prague as I did last summer, and stand on the edge of a Tesco cart, picking out cheese that only cost a few cents. You never lived to grow old, to remake the construct of family and home, build a fireplace with your bare hands and prove you are more than fine china. Somewhere inside of your rotting corpse, there lives a dragon. You never lived to get it out. To hell with the other timelines, I am a dragon and I’m here to burn them down.

Some choose to worship the emptiness, the stretch of free will that enables us to bomb or run or smoke or scream at the top of our lungs that we are the highest power in the world. Some worship the erosion of consciousness and meaning that comes with a many-tiered reality, a multiverse where simultaneously, I am you and me, dead and alive, free and in chains. There is no right or wrong in this fog and snow, there is no meaning in this endless winter.

I worship the unknown, the workings of time and space that pushed together so that she would find me lying half-dead on the bed, fingers loosely wrapped around a bottle of pills. So call me a zealot, I am worshiping my purpose. I am paying back this mortgage on my tiny inconsequential life, with every shred of hallelujah. I am relishing my existence.

[ja9doeswhole30]

Before-Whole30 Baseline

One of the reasons I kept putting off committing to a firm eating plan like Whole30 is that I consider myself a pretty healthy eater. I’ve always anticipated that forcing myself to be 100% compliant with a strict plan would send me into a deprivation mentality, and that being a ~90% whole-food eater with a little wiggle room for other stuff wasn’t the worst thing in the world. 

Nonetheless, here we are. I’ve bought into the idea of a 30-day reset of eating only the “right” foods. As my start date approaches, I wanted to focus on the ways in which I’ve been eating well and can build on during Whole30. 

I cook at home. A lot. Ever since I can remember, I’ve loved to cook. Eating is awesome, so why wouldn’t someone want to participate in the creation of the food and make it exactly to spec?! My early attempts as a teen mostly consisted of eggs, pancakes, certain traditional Jewish holiday foods, and cookies. I also messed around with salads, sandwiches, smoothies, etc. (more “food assemblage” than actual “cooking,” if we’re being technical). Then during college I graduated to vegetable stir-fries and sauteed pasta dishes, and I made a lot of marinated chicken breast on my Foreman grill. When the hubs and I moved in together we started incorporated baked salmon once a week along with the grilled chicken, turkey sausage, and turkey meatloaf that became our staples. 

Still, I didn’t realize just how much we ate out in NYC until we moved to the suburbs. Pre-kids, we’d pick something up from the pizza place one night during the week, and perhaps another weeknight we’d meet friends or coworkers for dinner and drinks. And the weekends inevitably involved eating out in some fashion or another. These days I cook dinner every weeknight pretty religiously, and that way weekend restaurant visits and take-out meals really are a special treat for everyone. 

I’m also kind of grumpy and cheap when it comes to grocery store shortcut foods - no cooked rotisserie chickens or other prepared foods from the deli counter for us. That said, I understand that this is often an optimal alternative to true take-out food for people who are too busy to cook. But it’s not like I’m relying on them and need to cut them out now, which is good. 

Finally, I’ve almost always packed and brought my own lunch. Occasionally I’ll treat myself to some sushi (since no one else in my family likes it) as a special Friday lunch, but otherwise I eat a homemade salad or leftovers from the night before. 

Hence, I’m intimidated by the menu requirements of the Whole30, and the prospect of making sure my meals are compliant while also satisfying for my family of picky eaters, but it’s not like this is my first rodeo in the kitchen. 

When I do eat outside food, I don’t go overboard. The sushi aside, when eating in a restaurant I usually pick something sensible like a salad with lean protein. If I indulge in a sandwich, I make sure to stop when I’m full (usually eating around half & saving the other half for the next day). In my youth I was a total glutton whose brain used the “oh, we’re eating out!” signal as an excuse to stuff myself, since it was a “treat”. 

I guess it’s also worth mentioning here that when we eat out, it’s pretty strictly Greek diner, Italian, Thai, or Chinese - i.e. somewhere I can eek out a decent meal (even if it means ordering steamed veggies and tofu with brown rice while everyone else has saucy deliciousness). The only time we even consider a typical “fast food” joint is on road trips, and even there you can always get a salad. 

Obviously, I’m not perfect. My willpower is shit when it comes to a nice diner bread basket or a steaming tray of garlic knots. But, in contrast to my youth, I’m able to have half a slice of challah, or one garlic knot, and stop there. This doesn’t really help with Whole30 since all that stuff is off-limits, but if I used to eat a lot of something, and trained myself to eat just a little, by extension eating none of it isn’t such a big stretch. 

I don’t eat after dinner (anymore). Because I have small children, we eat dinner around 6:30, finish by 7:00, and have them in bed by 8:00. A few months ago, I found myself picking at randomness in the kitchen during the evening cleanup. I realized that I was rushing through dinner, too distracted facilitating everyone else’s eating to slow down and feel myself to satiety. Thus, a few hours later I was either still hungry, or just antsy and unsatisfied enough to pick at nonsense. For the last several weeks, though, I’ve been more strict about dinner being the time to eat the good foods that’ll keep me full until the morning. (I say those exact words to my kids every single night; may as well take my own advice, right?)

I only booze occasionally. Last January I basically gave up drinking alcohol. Every once in a while I’ll have a glass of wine or a beer at a party, but between the negative effect on my triglycerides, the extra calories I don’t need, and the fact that I have small children who wake up me at the asscrack of dawn even if I have a headache, these occasions have been fewer and farther between. The logic also falls somewhere along the lines of “what’s the point of having just one drink?”  The other night I drank (a whole beer!) for the first time in over 2 months, and while it was delicious the buzz kept me up too late and I spent all of yesterday feeling sluggish and exhausted. Not worth it. So I know I can go 30 days without booze, no problem. 

I exercise almost every day. I know there’s a lot of speculation about whether exercise is actually good for weight loss - you burn a lot of calories but that just makes you hungrier, or you pat yourself on the back and take more liberties with crappy food choices, blah blah blah. All I know is that I got into the habit of working out every morning and I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I gave that up. My usual routine is 20-30 minutes on my elliptical, plus some strength exercises from a 30-day challenge chosen by my sister-in-law and her friends. It might be psychosomatic but I’m convinced the endorphins help me manage stress and have energy throughout the day. Plus, knowing I have to get up early to get the workout in before the kids get up is usually enough motivation to get into bed at a decent hour at night. 

The Whole30 book warns that adjusting to the program may affect athletic performance, so I’m going to proceed with caution the first few days. It so happens that we’re almost at the end of a thigh challenge, so the first day of Whole30 I’ll need to do 40 leg swings, 45 side leg lifts, and 45 side lunges (per leg). The next day it’s 50 side lunges, 55 plie squats, and 45 inner thigh pulses. So maybe I’ll skip the elliptical one of those days, or do it as a quick 10-15 minute warmup instead of a full cardio session. Regardless, according to the book exercising means you need to eat an extra (small) meal, and for my money that’s enough reason in and of itself to keep exercising. 

So there you have it. Stay tuned for my next post in which I bitch about all the reasons Whole30 is going to be insanely hard. D:

[motheroflittlelions]

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Lotor (Voltron)/Reader Characters: Lotor (Voltron), Lotor's Generals (Voltron), Haggar (Voltron), Zarkon (Voltron), Voltron Paladins, Galran Soldiers (Voltron), Galran Druids (Voltron), Reader Additional Tags: My First Fanfic, My First AO3 Post, First Time, POV Alternating, Friends to Lovers, Major Character Injury, Non-Consensual Drug Use, AU but weaves in and out of cannon, Explicit Sexual Content Summary:

Working at an outpost near the Ulippa system, you got to meet nearly everyone who stopped to refuel and pick up supply shipments for the Galra Empire. This included Prince Lotor and his Generals. One day you were informed of an upcoming assassination attempt that was meant to take out the Prince and you decided he needed to be warned. Only things didn't work out quite as you expected, and it was clear you would never be returning to the outpost again.

After that season I thought we could use a little fan fic.  It still has Haggar, but it also has Lotor (AU).  Please check out more on AO3 if you like what you see.  Still SFW here, but rapidly approaching where it’s really not.

Chapter 5 - Shattered Illusions

You were walking alongside of a stream in a forest, barefoot and carrying your shoes.  The sun was shining through the trees and giving the morning mist an ethereal quality.  It was comfortably warm, and you felt such a lightness about you that you hadn’t felt since you were a young child.  Like you didn’t have a care in the world.  You stepped off the bank into the water.  It was rushing around your feet and ankles, feeling somewhere between a slight tickle and a loving caress.  You stood there, head back, eyes closed, feeling the forest come alive around you, hearing the birds calling in the trees.  It was perfection.  

Suddenly you felt lips tenderly press yours, as your shoes were taken from you.  You could hear them land on the riverbank, guessing they were tossed by your paramour.  Your initial thought was to panic but the presence didn’t feel threatening. Instead you felt like you were home. You were wrapped in strong arms, pulled flush against a body that felt like a pillar of steel.  You didn’t want to open your eyes, this just felt right.  

The kiss quickly became more intense, pressing against you with a passion you had never felt before. The hands holding you started running up your back until they dove into your hair, keeping your head still while your unseen lover aggressively kissed you.  You felt his tongue press against the seam of your lips and you immediately opened for him.  You whimpered at the way he plundered your mouth, relentlessly stroking with his tongue against yours, his tempo increasing by the second.  The breathing between you was becoming quicker and harder, like you were both reaching for an unobtainable pleasure.  You felt your hands sliding around his back, reaching under his shirt and stretching up to his shoulders.  He let out a deep moan as you gripped his skin.  You couldn’t help but scratch all the way from the nape of his neck to the small of his back, feeling him shudder with desire.  He pulled his head back to catch his breath.

“Yes,” he whispered, “gods yes.  Do that again.”

He immediately returned to your lips like a man possessed, fire igniting in your belly and burning hotter with each dip of his tongue into your mouth.  You returned your hands to his shoulders and dug your nails in a bit more this time.  As you pulled your hands down his back, leaving deep long scratches he would bear for days, he returned one arm back around your waist, pulling you roughly against him.  You could feel his arousal pressing into your stomach, such was the difference in height. There was no doubt how badly he wanted you.

“Oh, please, don’t stop,” you gasped.  You wanted whatever was to happen to play out.  No hesitating, nobody to pull you back.  This truly was what heaven must be like.  

But then everything did stop, instantly.  Your lover was gone, as was the river and the forest and the sunshine.  You were standing in a darkened room, gasping and trying to catch your breath.  Two very tall figures with long pointed faces stood by the door.  You couldn’t see anyone else, but you knew there had to be others.  You heard a familiar voice call out to you.

“Are you enjoying the hospitality of the Galra empire?” the female voice hissed.  It was Haggar!  She was holding you prisoner somehow.

You refused to answer, wildly looking around, still feeling the wild beating of your heart and the breath catching in your chest.  You could taste your lover on your lips, smell his scent on your clothes, feel where his hands had left you burning wherever he had touched you.

“Do you think my son would willingly choose a human to be his consort?  His bride?” the voice called, snidely.  “You are nothing to him.  He will use you and throw you aside, just as he has with all of the many others before you.  You are not special, and he will forget all about you.  He will take from you until you have nothing left and dump you onto a cruiser back to the Ulippa outpost.”

You felt your throat closing with panic and your eyes fill with tears.  None of this could be true.  

“Ah, but it is, and it will be,” the voice answered your unspoken fears.  “I have seen it before.  It’s his preferred method of getting information.  You were nothing more than a means to an end and he will be glad to be rid of you.”

You didn’t speak.  You couldn’t.  She might be right.  It might very well be true.  After all you only knew little bits about him from his visits.  Casual conversation, light touches of hands, all until he brought you the mineral necklace.  Then he showed his true colors.  He desired you.  The necklace showed you the truth about his heart.  You believed in him.  He wouldn’t willingly hurt you.  You could feel it.

You turned away from the druids standing at the door.  Doubt crept through your mind, stealing all of the happy feelings you had so recently felt. You stretched out your thoughts, trying to remember the passion of the kisses, the strength of his arms around you, the way he begged you to mark him, but they only appeared distantly and were fading into nothing.

You heard footsteps behind you as you slowly turned around.  He was here, standing over you, glaring down like you were less than worthy of breathing the same air as him.  

“Lotor?” you said, incredulously.  “I don’t understand.  What’s going on?”

“Did you think I could ever love someone like you?” he sneered.  “You aren’t even close to something I could desire.  Perhaps you would give me pleasure, as long as I imagined it was someone else the entire time.”

“Why are you doing this?” you stammered, tears starting to flow down your face.

“Why?  Hmmm, because it’s fun for me,” he said, smirking at you with a deadly cold look in his eyes.  “You were not meant to be here, you know.  You were nothing but a miscalculation to me; a mistake.”

“No!” you cried out, falling to your knees.  “You can’t be serious!”  You had given up everything, left the only home you knew, traded your life to protect his, and now your entire existence would be erased.

“You are nothing and you will always be nothing.  You disgust me,” he said, spitting out the venomous words.  “Now, I’m going to leave you to your fate.  It’s a shame you came all this way to die a most painful and terrible death.”

He turned and strode out of the light.  You reached out for him.

“Lotor!  Please!  Don’t go,” you begged.  “I don’t understand!”  You were met with nothing but silence.  

The room faded away and you slowly opened your eyes.  You were in the med bay, strapped down to the bed.  You remembered, Lotor had told you to do so, to protect you.  He had also promised he had more of nature’s physical architecture to share with you.  The tears you didn’t even know you were crying were leaking down the sides of your face and dripping into your hair.

You pulled yourself into a sitting position, burying your face in your hands and sobbed.  Your heart felt like it was breaking, and you weren’t sure if the dreams you had contained any validity.  You did have a gift of foresight through them, when the gods decided to grant you the visions, so you learned the hard way not to throw them aside. There was always truth in them somewhere.  

You struggled with the straps holding you down to the bed until they finally released, and you swung your legs over the edge.  You gulped deep breaths, trying to stop the tears.  What was wrong with you?  You were crying more often than normal lately, and it didn’t make sense.  What was it about this person, this being, to drag these emotions from you?  

He wasn’t your first crush, and he wouldn’t even be your first lover.  And, if the dream was any indication, he wouldn’t be your first heartbreak.  You unconsciously ran your hand across your abdomen, feeling the old scar tissue there. No, this would not happen to you again. You would not allow it.  This time was going to be different, and maybe it wouldn’t end as painfully.  

Perhaps seeing Lotor again, asking him some questions, seeing if you could determine his agenda when you could be with him physically and watch his reactions would help you get through this ordeal.

You genuinely liked him, no matter how foolish or dangerous that feeling was.  He was the Prince of the Galra Empire!  This was not a relationship to be undertaken lightly. Now, time to find out if the same were true on his side of things.  Time to know, once and for all where you stood.

You stood up, grasping the table next to the bed for support, but you were delightfully surprised to find you didn’t have any deficiency in balance or strength.  That medicine Lotor had given you worked better than you expected. You walked across the room and found a small bathroom off to the side.  Flipping on the light you glanced at your reflection in the mirror.  You were happy to see you didn’t even have any shadow of a bruise across your face.  Healed. As complete as you could be.

You splashed some water into your face and dried it with a towel hanging just near the sink. Shaking your head, you attempted to tame the rats nest your hair had found itself in.  If you were going to present yourself to Lotor, you would need to be strong and look the part.  

“This is as good as I’m going to get,” you thought as you turned around and headed out into the main medical quarters.  You didn’t even know what to do now.  Where should you look for Lotor?  This was not a ship you were familiar with, so you didn’t know the halls as well as the regular shipping frigates.  There was only one way to find him and it was on the other side of that door.  You walked over to it and pressed the panel.  It slid open for you.  

“Good morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?”  You recognized that voice.

Acxa was waiting on the other side, with a blade centered right at your throat.

[honestsycrets]

Find Your Way III

Synopsis: (Y/N) and Ivar are childhood friends. After (Y/N) is captured by Aethelwulf, she discovers his true intentions.

FYW Masterlist

A/N: After this chapter, there is only the epilogue. Which should be shameless fluff or smut I don’t know. Gif is not mine,

Things changed today. It wasn’t just the fact that Aethelwulf visited you so many times today, or that Alfred came to visit you clad for war. Guilt was eating you up. You didn’t do anything wrong. Of course you didn’t. You didn’t warm his bed and you certainly hadn’t even kissed him. But it felt like it, sitting with Alfred and staring at your plate of salty meats while knowing Ivar would be coming for you.

“There’s something on your mind.” Alfred picks up a piece of meat, sliding it between your chapped lips. The salt drains you of any moisture left in your dry mouth. Your plate was nearly untouched. The past few days, you had been eating less and less with him. It wasn’t for a lack of food. He usually brought you delicacies but it was the food familiar to you that brought a smile to your lips. The jagged floor now had a bed of blankets to rest on. He sought to your necessities to treat you well. You turn your face away from him, then back again as if to reflect your internal battle

“Have you…” You laugh, nervous. “Have you ever known someone that is so completely opposite of you? But that you can’t get enough of?” You ask, finally getting the courage to look at him. Alfred makes a slight noise, turning your hand over to lace your fingers together.

“I enjoy the company of a very pagan but gentle woman.” Alfred says pleasantly, giving your hand a light squeeze. He looks different today, more confident if there was such a thing. He’s as confident as Ivar with half the reason to be. You hardly knew him, but he was lovely and familiar to you.

“But you speak of Ivar.” He says and you catch his words, looking down. He looks to the floor as well. Your mouth is tightly shut, feeling like you hadn’t done enough to fool the Christian about your thoughts. Outside, you can hear a man barking orders to another, reminding you of the situation you are in. A group of soldiers march past your room with a clank, clank clank! Their steps quicken.

“I’m sorry,” You say without looking to his face. After a short while, Alfred puffs out air of his nose.

“Will you speak to him on my behalf?” Alfred alternates in front of you, sliding your chains to the side away from his feet. It makes you question his entire intent on treating you well. It shows in your eyes.

“You are my friend.” Alfred says, slowly and evenly, making you look back into his deep eyes.

“Yes, you are my friend.” You say, rubbing your hand over the purplish welts on your ankles. The wear of the chain has eaten through your skin-- leaving a nasty mottled bruise that purpled your skin. “But you know, I can’t leave the dungeon. Unless...” You say. Alfred nods sharp and quick, like he already planned for this in the way he speaks.

“I’m not my father, I don’t aim to slaughter a gentle woman for spite.” Alfred says, caressing his thumb against your thicker lower lip. That’s precisely the problem, you think. You’re too gentle. Everyone knew you to be gentle, you loathed the fact. Gentleness meant weakness. It meant that you needed someone to look after you. Just like Alfred was doing now. Just like Ivar always had.

Your skirt wore mud and blood. They coated your dress like a second skin where you were slammed into a puddle. Ivar leaned on his side, wiping away traces of the crumbling substances off the corners of your eyes. In the muddy puddle beside you, a stocky man lays face down. No movement, nothing.

“Let me see.” Ivar demands while tugging at your dress. A redness burns at the entirety of your left cheek. You sob, low at first, gripping the torn flowy fabric that only slightly covers your bare body. Your frantic breathing stills eventually and the fabric slides from your fingers. He saved you; like he usually did. You both never talked again about the incident.You trained instead.

For a while you both sit in silence, listening to the march of a hundred soldiers. It almost is enough to fool you into being home. Where you braid Ivar’s hair and smack his hands when he complains. Or when he reprimands you for visiting injured men. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, twirling a stray strand around your finger rings. Alfred gives his prior request a moment to sink in while watching you a bit sideways.

“You wouldn’t stay with me... if I asked?” Alfred shakes you back to reality. You both were well aware that there were no benefits to Alfred keeping you. Not that you wanted to stay in a world where all you were was unworthy. It’s on you to bring the both of you back to reality. You lean into him.

“I can’t. I love Ivar and my gods, perhaps like you love yours. We can’t coexist.” You suggest, bringing your hand up to the digits on your face. His hand falls away limply to his side. Without breaking your gaze, he murmurs.

“And yet it would have been worth the effort all the same.” He sighs deeply, and before you can contest it, he moves to your ankle to pop off the lock. It’s a light, freeing feeling that you know won’t last.

“Well then, you need to go.” Alfred says as he drapes his cloak over your head. The heavy fabric warms your cold shoulders, but falls on your significantly smaller frame like a dress. Alfred looks to the door, slammed tight and shut with the guards waved off like they usually were. You quickly get onto your feet.

“What do I tell Ivar?” You ask. Alfred withdraws back to the sword at his side and pulls it out cautious not to make a sound. As he sets it in your hands, you want nothing more but to give it back to him. You weren’t a shield maiden. Alfred tugs you close, hooking a small bag on your waist.

“To set his eyes elsewhere. Now hurry, before we’re out of time. They’re coming.” Alfred motions you out of the door. There’s no time for heartfelt goodbyes.

Everything in war was strategy. A strategy where Ivar led his pieces against the Christians for the glory of Odin and for the hope she was still there. It was almost too easy to flank the camp, leading to the thought that something was coming. But he had no choice. He took his first emboldened move to a charge from either side. The gates buckled under the force of his army. Aethelwulf didn’t meet him outside.

The moment you stepped out of that dungeon you knew that Ivar was here. You knew that somewhere, the King was looking for you. Footsteps sailed past you almost as if you were invisible. Beginners luck, the voice in your head told you. You turned in the direction of a desperate shrill. Prince Alfred cast orders to evacuate.

“Men come! Take the King!”

You walked away from the chaos of preserving the king and farther, towards the real threat of the clanging of metal and by gods-- the reek that came from war. The gates swelled before they were thrust open. The shield wall dispersed and an influx of men shot forth with axe, sword and shield. Men that you could only say smelled like home. Their scent carried on the stale wind. You could taste the salt of the waters in Kattegat and smell the wood native to your home ablaze. Home was that way.

You withdrew the blade Alfred gave you and pressed on with a shield you found. The first charge was the first unnerving. It was complete chaos on any side of you. Your first kill came from the swiping strike of your blade across a man’s throat. As his blood sprayed out, you pressed on with light feet bounding between opponents. Ignore the wounds burning at your arms and side, you had to keep pressing forward. You lost count of Viking or Saxon that had to go. It was mostly your common folk striking against you. After a while, you were the only one pushing outwards. The Saxons fell back as Northmen charged inwards. The battleground filled with a prideful clamor.

“They are retreating!”

“Cowards!”

Your native tongue. You fell out into the campground and onto your hand. You forced yourself to roll onto your back, faced with a man hovering over you. His sword hiked above his head.

“Finish the rest!” You heard his distinct voice yelling at the top of his lungs. You quickly rolled, his blade colliding with the moist ground, and yanked back back the cloak that covered your head.

“Hvitserk! Stop!” You shrill in your native tongue, pushing up against a corpse. His sword came down just to the left of you.

“(Y/N)?” Hvitserk held his hand out and you took it, rising onto your feet. The battleground began to clear in your area. Valhalla claimed its lot.

“You are alive?” Hvitserk says, shocked.

“Glory to Freyja.” You gasp for air. You took Alfred’s blade back to your side and swept through the remaining warriors by his side. Many familiar faces chatted lowly about how they thought you were just a pretty face.

“Where is Ivar?” You asked, wiping the blood away from coursing down your eyebrows. Hvitserk drew back, waving his blade into the air.

“Around! Probably in search of his damsel.” Hvitserk laughed. You did too at the absurdity of such a thing during a time of war. But as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were searching for your prince. The great clipping of horses suddenly alerts you to his presence. Word had traveled quick on the backs of soldiers. As you turn, Ivar holds to reins to his chariot in one hand and pulls off the helmet in the other.

“(Y/N)!” Ivar calls out, but he doesn’t need to. You dart off for him past the strewn remains to mount his chariot to throw yourself at him. Ivar grasps the edge of his chariot, steadying himself as you collide into him. The force buckled his back into the chariot, but he doesn’t care. His lips are taken by yours for the first time and god, it’s messy. Your nose awkwardly bumped against him and your lips are dry with blood. The blood on your lips brings his heart to a mad face, only worsened as your arms took around his neck. His lips pulled millimeters apart, chest rising and dropping quickly as you tried to pull him back.

“I can’t breathe woman,” Ivar whispers against your lips, but presses another desperate kiss to yours.

“But I’m back. I’m back and I missed you.” You say, tasting the saltiness off his lips. Your first kiss is nothing that you expected, but maybe it was everything you hoped. Ivar reclined back on his chariot, finally bringing a hand to your waist.

“I can see that.” Ivar muses with a smirk, leaning in against your ear so the others might not hear. “As did I.”

Tags: I’m a numbnut so tell me if I missed you

@titty-teetee, @onjacks-blog, @red608, @some-blondes-unicorn, @ivarimagines, @shesalatesh, @shutter-bug124

[calzona-all-ways]

Mrs. Torres and the Red Headed Devil

CHAPTER 4

By: Anonymous

“You mean you wouldn’t take her back”? April asked incredulously.

“Nope. Not a chance.”

“But the hot sex-”

“Was no where near hot enough to wipe away the thought of them together.”

“But I don’t understand. I thought that you guys were-”

“We were. But then we broke up and she had sex with that- that redheaded… devil,” Arizona cringed at the image her words brought forth before concluding with a “Blecch…” the sentence ending as the blonde sucked in a heavy breath to rein in her lingering disgust at the traitorous former chief of surgery who had been way too eager to involve himself in her battle for custody.

“Hey, I have red hair too you know.”

“Oh! Sorry. Sorry. But hey, you didn’t take the stand against me and you haven’t tried to bed any of my lovers. At least as far as I know of.”

Unfazed, April sympathized with her friends comment. “I would never do that to a friend.”

“That’s because you’re not a trouble making crap dog or a- a ginger haired-”

A pale hand stood erect to quell the flow of harsh words before they could progress in severity.

“I get it, Arizona. I get it. But that ‘crap dog’ and I are friends too.”

"I know. I know you are. I guess I just get carried away when I think of what went on in court and then the two of them- well, you know.”

“In flagrante delicto, I heard. So I guess its a safe bet that you won’t be taking her back any time soon then.”

Arizona snorted. Her mind flitted to her one true love and that woman’s unexpected return into her life just the day before. “Absolutely. In fact I’d say it’s a guaranteed sure thing.“

Out of sight but not earshot, Callie winced. Brown eyes closed in a prolong blink only to spring open when the blondes invective echoed in her head and she finally placed the familiar words. ‘Red headed devil’. So that’s where Sofia picked up the phrase, she must’ve heard it from the mother she emulated. Callie had thought it strange for Arizona to refer to her recently ex-girlfriend as such, for she had never displayed any outward disapproval of her relationship with Penny. In fact, before their atrocious battle for custody, her ex wife was nothing if not friendly and supportive of her and the younger resident’s burgeoning feelings for each other. Apparently things were not as cordial as they had appeared to be. God, how could she have been so wrong, the brunette wondered. How could she have been so stupid? Callie grimaced remembering how she had shown up on her ex wife’s doorstep the previous evening, practically begging for a second chance. She suddenly felt so foolish.

Taking a step closer to the doorway, Callie craned her neck to hear more.

"Arizona, that’s not fair. You guys were broken up when she, you know.”

“I know. And I don’t care. And now she thinks she can just waltz back up to me and ask me to what? Be her girlfriend? Her steady sex partner? After her gross little fling?”

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I’m going to do nothing. Not a thing. I know she wants to try again, but every time of think of them together, kissing, touching, I just- I get so repulsed. I mean she’s actually, physically repulsive to me now. And I could never be in a relationship with somebody who I have an aversion to. No matter HOW good the sex once was.”

Tears form in Calles eyes as she digested the blondes words, the despair cascading in her soul making her feel like she might vomit. What had Arizona expected her to do? They were broken up with nary a chance for reconciliation.

“Ok, well I get that, I guess. I mean there ARE plenty of other fish in the sea-”

“Nope. Not for me.” An ebullient smile suddenly overtook the blondes features and her eyes seemed to sparkle. “My fishing pole is permanently retired,” she leaned in to whisper excitedly.

“Your… fishing pole is retired?” April automatically mimicked her friends softer tone. “When did you take up-wait, do you mean- did you meet someone?”

Arizona’s eyes flitted around her surroundings in a quick perusal of their settings before she clutched at her friends upper arm and relocated them into a nearby attending’s lounge and unknowingly out of the ortho surgeons earshot.

“Callie’s back.”

“Oh, yeah I know. She consulted on a case this morning. Why didn’t you tell me she was coming for a visit?”

“No, April. I mean Callie’s BACK back.”

“Um, I KNOW know? Are you feeling alright? I just told you I saw her earlier. We had a patient…? Talk about a shock. I didn’t even know she was here until she was THERE. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Am I- never mind.” Blue eyes rolled at the conversational maze this announcement seemed determined to travel. “Callie is BACK back, April. BACK in my life…” At the continued look of befuddlement a now wide eyed Arizona tried once more. “Baaack in my orbit….”

“Your orbit?” April brows furrowed deeper as she spoke. “Are we in space now? Because we were just fishing-”

“Oh my God. Callie is back to stay and I hope to have her back in my life and my bed as well.”

“Oh. OH! OH MY GOD! YAY!” She grabbed the blonde and hugged her tightly. “When did that happen? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t tell you because technically it hasn’t happened yet.”

Releasing the fetal surgeon from the embrace, April huffed in frustration.

“It didn’t-You know, you’ve kind of got a whole blonde thing going on today,” her hand trailed the air up and down in front of her friends body for emphasis. “Because talking to you didn’t used to be so confusing.”

“Argh! Callie came to my house last night with Sofia-”

“Aww. How is Sofia? You must be SO happy to finally have her back-”

“April! Focus! Of course I’m glad to have Sofia back! I’m thrilled! But Callie showed up and told me she broke up with Penny and she came back here for me. For ME. Can you believe that? She came back for ME, April. Because she missed me, she missed being with me and she wants us to try again. She wants to be with me. This is definitely one of the happiest days of my life! First I get Sofia back and now maybe Callie too!”

“Wow. that’s… wow. I’m so happy for you Arizona.”

“Me too. Me too. I can’t tell you how much .Thank you April. For being happy for me. You’re a good friend.”

“True. So what are you going to do about Carina?”

“Who? Oh! Nothing. Nothing. I mean Carina’s nice and all, and being with her was fun, but this is Callie we’re talking about. CALLIE.”

“So much for the hot Italian sex.”

Arizona scoffed. “Doesn’t even come close to the incredibly amazing sex with the woman of my dreams.”

“Ooh, are you taking about me?” Carina appeared through the opened doorway and maneuvered her way into the friends conversation, hijacking it to her favor, her cocked eyebrow reflective of the hope in her voice.

“Uh, I gotta…” April thumbed over her shoulder while her eyes flitted between the former lovers. “Bye.” Not wanting any part of THAT conversation, she turned abruptly and scurried away, hurrying right past Callie who quickly turned her back to the trauma surgeon before she could be noticed.

“Did I say something wrong?” Carina’s eyes watched April’s retreat before turning back to the fetal surgeon.

“Um, no, she just had a patient.”

“Oh. Then I am glad, because now I can have you all to myself.”

Carina stepped closer and Arizona instinctively took two steps back.

“Uh, Carina, I told you last night, this wasn’t going to happen anymore. We’re over.”

“Ah, but you’ve told me lots of things in the night, no?”

Carina? Callie’s mind searched the name. Ah, DeLuca’s sister and an obvious conquest.

“None of which I’ve meant as seriously as what I told you last night.”

“Is this about the bone doctor?”

“Callie. Her name is Callie. And yes it’s about her- well, US. She’s back now and she wants to try again-”

“I want to try again.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. At least not with YOU, anyway.”

“Is this because of my relations with Owen?”

Callie’s eyes grew wide at the revelation of a love triangle and it’s participants as she hovered in the hallway outside of the attending lounge while the women conversed. She briefly wondered how in the Hell anyone who would lay claim to sanity could be torn between Arizona Robbins and the ginger haired former chief who’s exaggerated show of passion apparently included the act of gnawing at his partners face in lieu of a simple kiss. Even in a bizzaro world of alternate universes Callie would be adversed to traveling THAT road, she mused. Especially if given the option of the softer more feminine curves of her former wife.

As she contemplated that, Arizona’s earlier harsh words mingled with her own mental description of the male trauma surgeon and echoed through her mind and somewhere within, a sprig of insight became fertilized. Ginger haired former chief? Red Headed Devil? Wait. Was it- could it be possible that Penny hadn’t been the intended recipient of those depictions at all, but rather their ex-boss himself? After all, given the circumstances that made greater sense and the more Callie thought about it the more convinced she became.

“I told you, this is about Callie and I possibly being together again,” The ortho surgeon’s mind pulled focus just in time to hear.

“I don’t want to lose you,”

“I’m sorry.”

"You could invite her to join us.”

Two sets of eyes went wide at that. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You Americans,” Carina shook her head and smiled. “Why do you prefer everything to be so complicated? If you desire her, invite her to our bed. The more the merrier, after all.”

“The more the- no. Nuh uh. Just… No.”

Out in the hall, the ortho surgeon thanked God for Arizona’s refusal and closed her gaping jaw breathing in a sigh of relief.

“But I’ve seen her pictures at your house. She is very beautiful.”

“Yes. Yes she is.”

“And I love to experience beautiful people.”

“Uh…”

Callie and Arizona shared a telepathic link when their minds came together at the same moment and both flashed onto Owen Hunt, each woman concluding that apparently the Italian doctor has been treating patients while being badly in need of glasses. "Okaaay.”

“So, three beautiful women together-”

“Is never going to happen. I would never share Callie with anyone.”

“But I insist.”

“And I refuse. What Callie and I have-um, had, is way too special to share with anybody else. So, I’m sorry, but no. Uh, thank you?”

“Why don’t we ask your Callie? This is her, yes?”

Turning to follow Carina’s gaze, blue eyes locked into the most beautiful woman they’d ever seen, leaving a discovered Callie with no choice but to hesitantly approach the conversing duo.

“Uh, Arizona? Do you have a minute?” Callie had mistakenly believed she had been stealthily manipulating her way incrementally closer since she’d seen the doctor clad in pink scrubs approach her former wife, but during her subterfuge hadn’t realized how exposed she’d actually become. Now she’d have to go in blind as to where the blonde stood on the idea of their reconciliation.

“Calliope.” A brilliant smile shined suddenly across Arizona’s face as the ortho surgeon stopped in front of her. “Yes of course. I always have a minute for you.”

Encouraged by the warm greeting, Callie’s eager eyes barely acknowledged Carina before settling on the beauty of Arizona, her features taking on an almost magical glow as she unconsciously mirrored the blonde’s smile with one of her own

“So, did you uh, did you have a chance to think about what I said last night-”

“Um, hello?

"Hi,” Callie gave a curt smile and a dismissive salutation to the woman with the accent, and then continued on in the same breath to her former wife.

“-Because I can come back if you need some more time.”

“No.”

Crestfallen, the smile faded instantly from Callie’s lips, her eyes appeared to dull and her shoulders slumped while her mind became suddenly feverish to find a credible excuse for a hasty, yet dignified retreat.

“Oh. Oh. Okay.”

Realizing immediately from Callie’s reaction that she had taken her reply wrongly, Arizona was quick to amend.

“No, Callie, I meant no, don’t leave.”

Her hand instinctively gripped onto the ortho surgeon’s sturdy forearm to stop her from walking away and Callie felt that connection down to her toes. Trying to calm the suddenly very heavy thump of her heart, she took several shaky breaths and struggled not to focus on the heat from the skin on skin contact but rather the hope of the words that would next fall from those pink lips.

“And yes.”

“Yes? Yes, you thought about it, ooor-”

“No. Yes.” Arizona blew out a heavy breath and with a roll of blue eyes tried again. “Yes, I thought about it and yes to your question.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously?”

Arizona laughed. “Seriously.”

“Oh my God! Oh my God, I can’t believe- Yes!” Callie’s happiness got the better of her and she wrapped her arms around Arizona and hugged her close.

Carina eyes flit from one woman to the other in the happy embrace. “What does this mean, this yes?”

Happily turning with the woman she loved secure in her arms, she faced Carina without releasing Arizona from her hold.

“What it means is that if anyone here is inviting any third persons into their bed it will be Arizona and I, inviting YOU into OURS,” she informed, letting on that she had overheard their conversation as she tried to use Carina’s own words to get the message of her and Arizona’s reconciliation across to the foreign woman, who mistook it for an invitation instead.

“I accept.”

“What? Wait-what?”

The offer brought their embrace to an end as Callie and Arizona each turned to face Carina at the same time.

“This invitation you’ve so graciously extended, I accept.”

“Uh, Whoa. Um, I didn’t - I mean, I’m not-”

“I would love to experience sexual pleasures with you and Arizona concurrently.”

Callie’s eyes grew wide as she stammered to find her way out of the miscommunication.

"No. No, see- I was trying- I overheard- and thought I could- I mean-” Her eyes found Arizona’s and pleaded silently for help. The blonde simply smiled for a moment or two, enjoying Callie’s predicament before interjecting her aid.

“There’ll be no threesome, Carina.”

“And why not? Did I have sex with the dog again?”

“Huh?” Callie did a comical double take between the other two women. “What- wait- What??”

An image of Carina and Owen flashed through a grinning Arizona’s mind.

“In a manner of speaking,” she replied before correcting her former girlfriends mistranslated metaphor yet again. “And you mean 'screwed the pooch.’

"This is what I said, no?”

“Uh, no.”

“God, no,” Callie reiterated.

“Hmm.” Carina dismissed with the wave of a hand. “So is this no to the sharing of pleasures as well then?”

“Uh, yeah, no. Sorry. Uh, no offense. I mean I’m sure you’re fantastic and all-well, I’m not SURE sure-” Callie tried again.

Carina tilted her head, her brows furrowed as her mind worked to interpret the words of confusion that fell from the enchanting ortho surgeon.

“I mean you seem like a nice person- and you probably ARE- but there’s no way I’m sharing Arizona with anyone. You included.”

Carina’s eyes openly perused Callie’s frame. “The three of us would have an incredibly passionate encounter.”

Still trying to be polite Callie replied. “I’m uh, I’m sure we would? But no. Um, no, no thank you.”

“Hmm. As you wish. But if you change your mind, Arizona has my number.” Carina winked saucily then turned and walked away.

“Wow. She’s… wow.” Callie stated as her eyes followed Carina’s retreating form. “She doesn’t hold much back, does she?”

“She really doesn’t.”

Callie stepped into Arizona’s space to wrap her arms around the blonde and pull her close once more.

“Yeah, well as much as I like a forward woman, you know the kind that’ll kiss a total stranger in a dirty bar bathroom-”

“A totally HOT stranger-”

“I meant what I said, Arizona. I’m not sharing you with anybody else. Ever. So you’d better get used to it.”

“Yes please. I don’t ever want to be shared-”

Callie laughed. “You don’t ever want to be shared, huh? Exactly how much time did you spend with the italian lady?”

“Ha ha. And no, I don’t want to be shared. And I’m never sharing you either.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” Callie spoke lowly, her face moving closer and closer until her lips were mere millimeters apart from Arizona’s.

"Good. Now shut up and kiss me, Calliope.”

Callie didn’t need to be asked twice.

The End