#but you also know i have now been waiting over two months for the reimbursement paperwork i submitted to even be ACKNOWLEDGED

[clearly-ambiguous]

HAAAA you know your job really fucking sucks when even your supervisor is like "I would have quit a while ago if I were you"

[initiala]

Adding in my $0.02 about the NHS, I lived in the UK for a couple of months as an intern at the end of college in 2011 and ALSO got an ear infection (I always get ear infections after I move, I blame the water changes) Only I was two weeks from getting on a plane and had no insurance and didn’t want to fly while being miserable and finally looked up the nearest GP’s office that accepted walk-ins

A miserable Tube ride later, I was sat in the waiting area and filling out forms and the receptionist looked at me pityingly and said “Now, as you’re not covered by the NHS it’s going to cost” and I, a broke college student doing an unpaid summer internship living on student loan reimbursements, just went “I know” and braced myself

“It’s going to cost about £50.”

Fifty pounds?! That’s IT?!

I got in to see the GP, who fussed over me a bit and then gave me a prescription to clear it all up and told me they could fill it out at the front too, I didn’t need to go to a pharmacy or anything

I braced myself again because like, the visit was cheap but they HAD to get me with the prescription, right? So I go up and give them the slip and they go “Alright, love, that’s another £7.50 for your bill, we can handle it all now while they get the drops for you.”

£57.50 for a doctor and prescription ear drops. If I’d gone to the urgent care in the US for this, it would be quadruple that, or god forbid the ER, it would be over $1000, plus running to the pharmacy at a different location and paying that out of pocket.

What the Tories have done and and want to do to the NHS and healthcare workers is criminal, and I support their strike efforts to get better treatment and wages. I don’t even want to think about how miserable I would have been or how an infection might have spread if I’d gone on a 10-hour flight with it. It was so simple and I was so well taken care of, even as a temporary visitor to the country who might have been taken advantage of elsewhere coughtheUScough

(When I lived in Korea and got YET ANOTHER DOUBLE EAR INFECTION, my doctor visit was free thanks to my job and they gave me six different drugs for three days for W7000, or about $7, and then I’d go back three days later to check again and get more medicine if necessary. Same when I got bronchitis there. The drug control there is very strict but it keeps you monitored by a professional to make sure you’re reacting properly and nothing new has cropped up, and they’re doled out in cute individual baggies with labels on what time of day to take the specific pills, very useful. Anyway, fuck yeah socialized medicine, yes there are problems but holy shit is it better for society as a whole if we just have access to try and get better)

in December 2008 i moved permanently from the USA to the UK and promptly got an ear infection. It was intensely painful, like an ice pick through my skull. i took some OTC painkiller and lay in bed, moaning and miserable. 

my (English) husband looked at me like i’d grown a third head. 

“if it’s that bad why don’t you just go to the doctor?” he said. 

“i–i can go to the doctor in this country!” was my reply. 

at that time, it had probably been 5-6 years since i’d seen a doctor. Not since i stopped being on my dad’s insurance. Even when i’d had my own insurance (via my grad school institution as part of my teaching assistantship compensation, the same insurance as the professors had. Probably pretty good. Still too confusing and scary for me) i never felt like i had the spare cash to cover a copay, was always afraid that what i needed wouldn’t be covered by the insurance. i ignored an abscess in my mouth for weeks until it finally burst in a geyser of pus you definitely don’t want me to go into further detail about, because i was worried that would count as dental and i didn’t have dental coverage. 

you get the picture. Health care in the US sucks hard. 

when my ear was infected, my husband phoned his local GP surgery (with which i was not registered, i was an immigrant on a spouse visa, only arrived the previous week), got me an appointment later that day. They saw me, diagnosed me, gave me a prescription for antibiotics for which i paid (i think, at the time) roughly £7. Cleared up in a few days. 

all i paid for was the prescription. 

some years later my husband made me go to the doctor again. i was having random symptoms i wasn’t even sure were symptoms, a weird laundry list of stuff that could be connected or could be nothing. i went to the GP with this list, worried that they’d take one look at a heavyset woman and immediately go “lose weight fatty!” or “diabetes!” They did not. The doctor was a young-ish woman who listened carefully to everything i told her, looked at my list of symptoms, and said “we’ll test for other things, but I’m 99% sure this is a problem with your thyroid. i’m going to start you on some medicine while we wait for the test results.” 

prescriptions were by then something in the neighbourhood of £8. 

a few days later i got a call from the lab that had run my blood tests. They told me that my thyroid levels were through the roof, so high they were actively dangerous. Cardiac arrest was a likely outcome if it was left untreated. They advised me to get a prescription immediately, and were audibly relieved when i told them i already had one. 

if i’d not been living in a country with free-at-the-point-of-service health care, i would not have seen a doctor. The NHS saved my life. 

why am i going on about this? Well. It’s because NHS workers have planned a strike for later this month, and the press are already on the attack. Fearmongering about how this will throw the system into chaos, patients will go untreated, etc etc blah blah all with the very unsubtle spin of “blame the workers. Blame the strikers. They’re putting your lives in danger.” 

zero mention of how dire the situation is in many hospitals. Not enough nurses (because Brexit among other reasons) and the ones we do have are overworked and underpaid. Too many patients not enough beds. Old buildings, old equipment. 

none of which is a problem with the system. The system’s great. The system works. The problem is the predatory Tory government who would love nothing more than a privatised, US-style insurance-based healthcare system off of which they and their cronies can profit. The problem is how the government has been starving the NHS of funds for over a decade, under the guise of “austerity” and how we all need to muck in together. Except them, obviously. They’re different. 

the problem is absolutely not the people striking because they, like nearly all of us in this country, are shamefully underpaid. Because they deserve compensation for their hard and dangerous work. Compensation they are not being given, despite their attempts at negotiation. 

whenever collective action happens there are always people eager to blame the workers. Greedy nurses, refusing to treat us when we need them because they think their pay is more important. How dare they? They have a responsibility to do their jobs! i am urging all my UK mutuals and anyone who reads this not to be taken in by these spurious arguments or any spin doctoring from the news rags. Side with the workers! Side with the nurses. Side with the people who want the NHS well-funded and thriving. A robust national health service is a universal good. Ours is creaky and wobbling but that is from mistreatment, not because the principle is unsound. i promise you, however frustrating you find the NHS, an American-style system is far, far worse. 

[youarejesting]

Sly like a... ? - Part 1

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All  Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 1.6k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Next]

Humans always strived to be better, faster, and stronger. So it was only natural for them to turn to genetic manipulation. Splicing the human DNA with that of animals. Bringing about a new half-human, half-animal race called Hybrids. They were like most things humans deemed different, scary, and an abomination. They were not allowed to be independent in fear of rebellion against the elite pure humans. These Hybrids were soon seen as lesser compared to the pure humans and were quick to be sold as servants to the rich and shady, and pets to the common families. The only problem was when the families no longer wanted their designer pedigree hybrid they were either abandoned, sold, or worse.

Hybrids didn’t have a voice. They were not allowed to live on their own unless they were fully educated with a bachelor’s degree. Due to these standards, many were sent back to the adoption agencies to be rehomed again and again until they reached a certain age. Then they were put down to make room for more returned hybrids.

You were working with the government on a program that could fix the hybrid rehoming issue. Having presented your idea to the board they seemed interested and were willing to grant you a small fund if you could give them the results they needed. They gave you a handful of Hybrids, one being Jimin the poster boy for the government. He was genetically modified to create a male calico with the classic calico print which was only found on females.

They succeeded and though Jimin was a male his features were more on the feminine side making him seem too androgynous but not what the market wanted. He was left to be used as a model on new billboards and television advertisements for government services and legislations regarding Hybrids.

Another participant was your neighbor’s hybrid, Taehyung. He was a golden retriever and was volunteered by his owner, an older gentleman who recently lost his wife. He was worried for the young hybrid that one day when he shall pass he will be alone and scared. You were quick to guarantee him a place in the program to help him become more self-sufficient in case anything should happen.

You were currently packing your things, not that there was much, living in such a tiny apartment. However, you were preparing for a call within the week regarding moving into a larger government-funded home where you could comfortably house the number of new participants of your trial program. The place was fully furnished with everything a large family of hybrids would need, all you had to bring was your clothes. Everything else was paid for to create the perfect environment for the hybrids. Rent, utilities, food, and anything the hybrids needed were all reimbursed by the government.

Since it would be a few days before you would hear anything, you thought it was best to start thinking of activities for the hybrids to get to know one another. Whilst also basking in your last moments of freedom before devoting yourself to the program. 

On that note, you had finally finished packing and decided to spend your hybrid-free moments treating yourself to some food. Pulled from your thoughts of a delicious omelet by a loud ping from your jean pocket. A reminder on your phone in bold letters.

H-week!

Today marked the first day of your heat, this explained the nagging twinge in your back you had been ignoring, you thought it was from hunching over to pack. Searching your top draw you saw the empty blister packet of heat suppressants, great another thing to add to your ever-growing to-do list. The pharmacy was a little further than the restaurant you wished to visit but not too far out of the way. So you set off hoping to get back in time before it gets too dark, your eyes did funny things at night.

See you weren’t exactly human yourself, you were an experiment. The world was creating new hybrids and well, you were genetically modified within the same year as Jimin. Supposed to be the new designer breed the ‘Fox-Hybrid’. The problem was it didn’t work, you were born entirely human. Sure you were a bit more agile, and your ability to hear and smell things was better than normal. You were still essentially human.

Once a month since you were thirteen, you would get a strange feeling in your lower abdomen. When you discussed it with the scientists for your check-up, they had explained it was a heat. Whilst foxes usually had a heat once a year lasting three days, yours would happen once a month lasting three days but a lot milder. 

Since that day you have taken a low dose heat suppressant to nullify any pheromones. You were grateful because it wasn’t as painful or as long as a human period, but it wasn’t as debilitating or humiliating as a real heat.

You had grown up seeing Jimin on occasion and were familiar with how debilitating hybrid heats and ruts were. Even so, the two of you became friends, both failed attempts at modification.

Though you never understood why they said fox hybrids didn’t exist, you had seen them. Sometimes in grocery stores, restaurants, or nightclubs. They would be there, they would wink at you or wave, give you a smirk with a twitch of their ears or a swish of their tail. Were they mocking you for being a defect?

The only good thing accompanying your long journey was the music humming softly in your headphones. Used to drown out the loud sounds of the city, as your ears were sensitive. It also helped you ignore the side-eyes from Hybrids who would not so subtly sniff the air as you passed. 

You caught a flash of orange and looked across the street. A simple fruit shop that had a colorful awning flapping in the gentle breeze.

Moving around the store was a shopkeeper in a green apron, shirt, with his bronze hair sticking out underneath a matching cap. He was putting down a tray of banana’s and as he stood, a pair of ears and a bottle brush-like tail were visible, he turned as if sensing your presence and locked eyes with you, tipping his cap. He dusted his hands on his apron, leaving you shocked. A Fox hybrid in public! No one else seemed amazed or even spared him a glance. How could no one see this?

It was like a scene from a movie, as a truck drove past leaving the man looking completely innocent and human talking to a few ladies. He was quite good-looking and charming, but there was no sign of a tail. The women were quick to fall for him, purchasing an oddly large selection of fruits and vegetables. You turned back to the path ahead of you shaking your head in disbelief, before continuing on your way to the pharmacy.

The pharmacy catered for humans and hybrids alike and was never too busy. Which made it your favorite store to collect your script from, as there was little to no waiting time. Handing over the script, you strolled around the store wondering what you would need for these Hybrids. Toothbrushes? Combs? If they had a lot of body hair would they need the silky coat shampoo formula or the soft fur body wash? Placing the hybrid shampoo and body wash back on the shelf you shook your head honestly this was overwhelming. 

Rubbing your aching stomach, you were too uncomfortable to really get into hybrid care right now. You wouldn’t have to worry about any other heats apart from your own as it was decided with the board they would all be male hybrid participants. This stemmed from Taehyung being already a willing participant from the start, they thought it best not to mix male and female hybrids.

You would however have to deal with their ruts, albeit once or twice a year. You chewed your lip in thought pausing in the makeup section of the store. You caught your reflection in the small mirror and preened thoughtfully, your eyes were expressive and angular, your hair due to the modification was a brilliant copper.

You were quite beautiful, eerily so, like the man at the fruit shop. Your features were so similar. Even though you were a defect and he was the real deal. “Ma’am your order is ready.”

Turning surprised you grew hot in embarrassment, stammering to make an excuse, “Sorry, I was just thinking about a really strange fox hybrid at the fruit shop.”

Many occupants in the store turned confused and you heard an old man say, “Fox hybrids don’t exist, they are sinister creatures and not to be meddled with”

“She must be a conspiracy theorist,” one woman whispered to her hybrid snake who was donating venom for anti-venom.

Paying for the medication you left quickly and took one of the small pills as you stepped out of the store. Why didn’t anyone else see them?

You headed back towards your home, not forgetting the reason for your trip. You were excited about an omelet at your favorite restaurant when two apples came rolling across the pavement. 

They rolled towards you, quickly picking them up you carried them inside the store, “excuse me, sir you dropped some of your apples,” You saw his shadow in the darkened store, two pointed ears, and the flick of a tail.

“Are you a fox hybrid?” You asked curiously and he laughed. It was strange like snickering but at a pitch that was not fit for a grown man, like a child’s giggle sharper with a few squeals, or like a bird chittering. You know the sound. He was Gekkering like a fox.

“Thank you,” he took the apples gesturing you over to the side, “let me get you some blueberries, they are my favorite.” 

“Oh thank you, sir, how much do I owe you?”

He shook his head, thrusting a black plastic bag into your hands, “It’s okay, we have to look out for one another.” 

What a strange man…

How can I save this to receive and read updates?

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[christinesficrecs]

I needed a distraction from yet another hateful week so here we are!! With this Beach AU reclist that is obviously no longer that! 🤦🏻‍♀️  

Also, there are some 4th of July fics here if you’re feeling picnics and bbqs. And summer camp fics here if that’s more your thing. 

A (Sort of) Fairytale by briecheesie, daunt | 25.8K | Mature

The summer after senior year starts normally enough, with the gang spending their final months before college together at the Martin family's lake house. Then Jackson stumbles onto the burial ground of a witch's ex-husband, Stiles is magically turned into a fox, and things somehow manage to get worse from there. The gratuitous Princess Bride references are only of moderate help.

Kissing the Shoreline by theroguesgambit | 12K

Stiles doesn’t want just any summer fling. He wants Derek. And Lydia is determined to help Stiles get him.

The Newlywed Game by Captain_Loki | 19.5K | Mature

Stiles is (still) single when the pack's getaway to the Caribbean comes by (oh misplaced optimism); lucky for him Derek is committed to being uncommitted and even after all these years is still powerless against Stiles' unique forms of persuasion.

Cue a romantic getaway for two: sun, sand, and sarcasm abound...and the two roped into competing in the Resort's version of the Newlywed game. Only it's completely obvious it's going to end in disaster. Probably homicide.

Most probably homicide.

Plot twist: It doesn't.

Livin' La Vida Loca by jadore_hale, stomachaches | 16.3K

The one where Stiles answers a newspaper ad to be the Hale family's new pool boy and has a hell of a summer.

Wild and Reckless Breeze by GotTheSilver | 15.7K | Mature 

In which Stiles is killing time working at a bookshop, Derek buys a lot of Chuck Palahniuk and they start hanging out, much to the confusion of Scott and the Sheriff.

hey asshole by everchanginginks | 15.6K | Mature

The Hales moved in next door more than a year ago and while Cora and Stiles became fast friends, Stiles has yet to meet his best friend's big brother, Derek, who’s been attending college in New York. When Derek comes home for the summer he makes less than a stellar impression. And vice versa.

To Navigate Your Seas by alisvolatpropiis | 26K | Explicit

Derek is a beach bum/surfer; Stiles is his new neighbor. Feels ensue.

The Lawn Ranger by Snowjob | 47.8K | Mature 

In which Derek is an adolescent werewolf with a penchant for chocolate bunnies, and instead of the dream summer of lazing around the house playing video games and nibbling on his hoarded supply of easter candy his mother makes him get a job.

In which Stiles is a showoff jock with a broken arm and an embarrassing crush who can no longer push the lawn mower around the yard.

Bed Sharing For Dummies by werewolvesandarrows (nerdy_farm_girl) | 7.5K | Explicit

Scott and Kira decide they should all go on vacation. Stiles has to share a bed with Derek. He's handling it like a mature adult.

Beach Trip AU  |  Steady Like The Tide  |  tumblr ficlets

We'll Still Have The Summer by allyasavedtheday | 32.3K

He’s too busy waxing poetic in his own head about the surly – dreamy – dude holding the sign for the hotel to notice Scott already making his way over. He pauses halfway when he realises Stiles isn’t following him, turning around and eyeing Stiles curiously, “Dude, come on, the guy’s waiting.”

Stiles snaps himself into action and pushes his cart carrying his suitcases over to where Scott’s introducing himself to Stiles’ future husband.

“-And this is Stiles,” Scott is saying just as Stiles arrives next to him.

“I’m Derek,” the guy replies gruffly, folding the sign up and tucking it under his arm. “I’ll be taking you back to the hotel.”

Cutback by WonderWolf | 19.3K

Scott and Stiles are pro surfers in need of a place to stay for their upcoming competition. Out of all the things Derek expected this summer, being asked to house his brother and ex-boyfriend for one week wasn’t on the list.

i have always been the storm by stilinskisparkles | 25.2K | Explicit

"You’re all headed out to Oklahoma in a week.”

Derek snaps his head up, stares at him in horror, “No, boss.”

“Yes,” Finstock insists in a steely voice. “The NSSL have been on at us for a year about some decent exposure, and I think you’re just the team to do it.”

“I haven’t done weather since college,” Derek protests.

Boyd snorts again, presumably because he’s thinking back to the time when Derek and the weather last collided and he…. well, did the guy into the weather for a brief, wonderful, terribly foolish time. But, Boyd needs to shut up before Derek punches him on the nose.

We’ve Got Chemistry by dr_girlfriend | 17.8K 

So…” The man was at the door to a shed now. “The previous owners left everything, so I think there should be everything you need. But let me know if you need me to pick up anything, or if you prefer, you can buy it and I’ll reimburse you…”

“Everything I need?” Stiles repeated. He had obviously missed something.

“You know.” The man smiled again, a little more cautiously. He was looking at Stiles as if he were a bit mentally-challenged. “To clean the pool.”

“To clean the pool,” Stiles repeated. He looked around. Then he looked down at himself, taking in his stained shirt, cargo shorts, and raggedy Converse.

“Oh!” he said. “Because I’m the pool guy.” And that’s not what he meant to say at all. He meant to say, “You think I’m the pool guy.”

Go For The Gold (And A Few Other Things) by SpiritsFlame | 14.7K | Mature

Stiles came to the Olympics with one goal- get a gold medal. By Opening Ceremonies, he has two goals. Win a gold medal, and sleep with Derek Hale. Unfortunately for him, those two goals are equally difficult.

Show Me How We Can Escape by secondstar | 9.8K | Explicit

Stiles needed a vacation. He deserved it, after working nonstop. Australia felt like a world away from the limelight; just what he needed. He didn't expect to meet Derek, though.

I Ran (So Far) by thepsychicclam | 33.7K | Explicit

In which Stiles' summer starts off so badly he starts running, gets pelted by paint balls, and decides he is, in fact, going crazy if he willingly wants to hang out with Derek Hale.

We’ll put on a show (Scotty has to know) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) | 7.7K

Stiles is a stubborn asshole, determined to have fun in Europe even though Scott stays behind in Belgium because of a girl. So asking a stranger to make out with him for the ‘Gram? Totally the best decision he’s ever made, and not just because that’ll totally show Jackson (and Scott!). Shame he won’t see the guy again, though.

Mermaider by nothing_left_sacred | 15.5K | Mature

“So what you’re saying is; you’re a mermaid princess.” Erica concluded.

“Yes, clearly. That is what I am saying. Thank you for putting it so concisely.” Stiles sassed, frowning at her. He wasn’t fucking Ariel; this was so far from being a Disney movie it wasn't even funny.

Or the one where a perfectly normal Beach Vacation escalates way too quickly, because this is Stiles' life.

Slow Burn by Boy_On_Strings | 69.7K | Explicit

Derek takes the pack on a vacation to a beach. Derek and Stiles are forced to share a room after Allison and Scott claim one room and Lydia claims another for her and Jackson. This leads the two towards bonding and more.

Burn It Out by Omni | 6.3K

Everything that he was got burned out of him, turned to ash and shadow just like everyone he loved. He was hollowed out and empty, and it hurt like claws across exposed nerves.

Then, it was done.

Move A Mountain by ZainClaw | 69K | Explicit

Stiles goes camping with his friends in New Mexico after graduation where they befriend a biker gang led by Derek: a guy whom Stiles can’t decide if he will be either relieved or devastated to never see again once their week is up.

Past The Breakers by thepsychicclam | 40.7K | Explicit

Stiles and Scott get summer jobs at the exclusive Seawolf Beach Resort, and the last thing Stiles expects is to start taking surf lessons from the hot lifeguard.

[goldenlaquer]

Hi ! Can I request you a rival to lovers short story/ One shot with Sougo please 🥺 ?

In which boys tease the girls they like by setting them on fire. 

AHHH SORRY FOR THE WAIT.

Who Runs the World? Sadists. (Okita Sougo One-shot): 

He is handsome, that much you can admit.

But you also think appreciating aesthetic beauty can be compartmentalized. It is something you can notice, and store in a box to shove in the darkest recesses of your mind, and then think nothing further about the person other than how much you’d like to run over him with an eighteen-wheeler.

So, here is how it is:

Out of context, he is handsome.

In context, he is the most trying, insensitive, sadistic, arrogant, lying dickwad to haunt the face of the Earth and your general vicinity.

You say the second part of this to him whilst kicking the back of his knees (something he very much deserved after slicing the top of your ice cream right off the cone), and he effortlessly dodges and grabs your hair to plant your face against the nearest streetlamp.

When you peel your face off with blood and vengeance dripping off your face, there is a smug smile on his face.

And you are further angered by how, even against the orange-yellow lights of the streetlamp and the darkness of the fading sky, that ugly, infuriating smile does not diminish the prettiness of his face.

And then you are even angrier for even noticing this.

Aesthetic beauty can be compartmentalized. You just aren’t very good at it.

—

You tell him that you wish that he’d fuck off. But only after reimbursing your ice cream.

He tells you to stop thinking about fucking him. And also that you should be thanking him for saving you the trouble of having to buy another gym subscription that you’ll never use again after the first visit.

Again, he dodges the kick, this time aimed at his balls.

—

You sometimes forget that he is in the police force. A fact that makes you shudder for society.

After long moments of name-calling and low blows to genital areas, he tucks his hands into the pockets of his uniform and strides away, no doubt bored of making fun of your existence.

Stop being a nuisance and get off the streets at night, he calls over his shoulder in monotone. He’d have nothing to do if you scared off all the thieves and rapists with your nasty breath smogging up the air.

You are left behind with a soggy waffle cone in your grip. If you didn’t know better, it sounded as if he cared.

—

The universe is playing a cruel and extremely hilarious joke on you.

Because everywhere you go, he is there.

You take a discreet whiff of yourself. Is there something in your perfume that attracts cockroaches?

He is there at the grocery store. Reaching for the last carton of milk at the same time as you do. He refuses to let go, silently staring at you with his red eyes to give up. You sure as hell won’t. You hold on tight and tug. He tugs back. You use two hands and heave. He lets go of the carton and you fly.

At the library. Perusing a manga when you stumble across him. And you would have turned right back around, but the seat across from him just so happens to be the only open one in the entire building. So you mentally curse the other people for educating themselves and suck it up, gingerly placing your tush on the edge of the chair, afraid of the very possible reality of him placing something there that could send you to the hospital. For the most part, the interaction is harmless, the both of you ignore each other until he yawns, loudly, and you glare at him for the rudeness, and he smirks (a warning sign) and proceeds to full-on whine your name out in a high-pitched voice, in the middle of studying students. You and him are kicked out by a buff onee-san with a month-long ban for public indecency despite your many attempts to tell her that you did not touch him, especially like that. Hot blood pools in your cheeks. For two reasons.

Even at the little goldmine of a ramen eatery you have miraculously discovered by sheer luck. Its location is isolated from the usual Edo traffic, hidden in a tiny dingy alley, but their bowls are little pieces of heaven: charred chashu slices that melt across the tongue in smokey savoriness, thin hand-made noodles that have just the right give and firmness, a golden broth that does not taste greasy or heavy and sucker-punches you across the face with umami. This eatery you have found is a safe haven, or so you think until you walk in and see Okita Sougo, schlurping up the last of his noodles and holding up his bowl to ask for seconds.

How is it that you can barely step out the front door of your home without seeing him? Doesn't he have a job? How can one person have so much free time?

(Somewhere, Hijikata is howling his first name.)

—

Once again, the universe makes sure that the only available seat is next to him.

You sit. He comments about how he’s flattered but he’s going to get a restraining order if this continues. You say bullshit, bullcrap, bulldiarrhea— if anyone’s stalking anyone it would be him, creep. He says that he’s not stalking you, he’s making sure that you don’t commit any crimes, and you say, quietly:

So you are following me?

He replaces his reply with an obnoxious noodle slurp. It is all the answer you need.

—

He is not there for two weeks. Two weeks. Two weeks of no sadists. Two weeks of no arguments and fighting. Two weeks of jumping for joy. Two weeks of jumping at shadows. Two weeks of silence. Two weeks of looking at ramen and thinking ‘ah, he’s not here’. Two whole weeks of no Okita Sougo.

You feel… awkward.

Except, awkward is not the word. Ridiculous. Absolutely preposterous. The word is alleviated, instead.

You are alleviated.

You think about the reason for this sudden change. You wonder if he is avoiding you. If so, It must have been back at the ramen place where you last saw him. Something he had said and something you had said.

Something revelatory.

Or he had become truly bored with you and moved on to another toy to play with.

You’re not sure which one leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

—

You see him again in the middle of the third week.

You are walking late at night, when you hear,

What did I tell you? Stop walking so late at night. You’re infecting everyone with your dumb braincells, moron.

You like to think that the only emotion on your face when you slowly turn to him is cool indifference, and you tell him that you don’t speak to stalkers.

Without missing a beat, he says, who would want to stalk such an ugly woman like you?

He pushes off the streetlamp he is leaning against and stalks towards you, long legs carrying him swiftly to stand in front of you. The orange- yellow lights reflect off brown, and long lashes lowers down on red as he looks at you with an expression that kinda makes you lose your breath.

You skin itches and something bubbles up inside you that wants to break free from your mouth.

Shut up. You tell yourself. Don’t say anything.

Where were you for the last two weeks?

Damn it.

Long lashes blink and pink lips slowly curve. Miss me?

No. Not. At. All. You were doing fantastic without him there to ruin everything. You just wanted to know so that you could send condolence flowers to the person he’s bothering now.

Well, you’re out of luck, he says, there was never anyone else.

Your toes curl.

So that means, he continues, I’ll be making your life miserable for a while longer.

You disguise your smile with a glare. Stalker.

Like I said, who would stalk such an ugly woman?

You start walking in the direction of your home. He follows next to you, shoulder and forearms of his jacket brushing against yours. You, idiot.

You’re the idiot.

No, you.

If I’m an idiot, then you are super idiot.

You’re mega idiot.

You’re infinite idiot.

That doesn’t make sense, idiot.

Only because you’re an idiot, idiot. 

----

Little note: Sougo was gone for two weeks, because surprise surprise, he was on a mission for Shinsengumi and I just couldn’t really slide this tidbit in. Not that it’s really important in the grand scheme of things.

[doesitsparkjoytho]

Old Dog, New Tricks

Words: 2100 POV: Hank A short piece exploring the events leading up to and just post-epilogue (good ending). Fluff/feels. This can be interpreted however you like. (You can also read on AO3)

...something about the bright blue thirium against the snow—hell, it fucking glowed in the dark…. He’d barely driven two blocks before he had to swerve to a curb and open his door to puke.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?”

Hank really looks at the android now, and is pained to see the bullet hole, the blue blood now dried along his shoulder, spattered like neon paint along the front and sides of his usually neat jacket. Connor is filthy, his hair is a mess, his clothes are frayed and torn in places. It’s a miracle he’s alive.

Alive...

Connor follows Hank into the kitchen, and his eyes quickly scan the counters, table—likely analyzing what’s changed since he was last here. Hank looks at him, slightly abashed. The last time Connor was here, he wasn't exactly concerned about the state of his house. He'd barely been aware that Connor was even in his house, let alone been concerned about how he'd gotten in (the window was still broken, and Connor's request to Cyberlife to reimburse the expense would likely never be processed now).

"Do you eat?" Hank asks. It sounds stupid as he asks it, but it feels good to ask regardless. And honestly HANK is hungry. But even without opening the fridge, he realizes he has next to nothing edible, except perhaps to android standards. With all his favorite fast food places almost certainly closed, he isn't sure what he’ll do.

"I can eat, but I have no need or desire to,” Connor replies. He looks perplexed, but doesn't say more.

Hank smirks. "Can you cook?" It’s funny imagining Connor, who he's seen so often licking blue goo from floors and sprinting after deviants, cooking.

Connor's face scrunches slightly. "I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it." Now he smirks. "If you're that desperate, I'm sure Sumo won't mind if a few of his cans go missing. It's probably preferable to whatever I'd manage."

"Haha, very funny, Connor. But unlike you, I do actually need to eat. Eventually." He trails off on this last word.

It's then that Hank realizes how fucking tired he is. What time is it, anyways? 10:27am. The past 24 hours feel like a fever dream. He also hasn't slept since.... When the fuck did he last sleep?

After he and Connor split ways at Cyberlife tower, he went to the park and tried to calm his nerves. However, for the first time in a long time, he found himself unable to drink even a beer—felt he might be needed, and that he’d have to be ready. Sharp. And that thought made him even more anxious, more agitated.

So he got back in his car and drove around the city, trying to find somewhere with a TV. His phone was a useless brick with communications shut down nationwide several days prior. The streets were deserted, stores and bars closed. Not even looters wanted to chance encounters with deviants, apparently.

He did pass several groups of soldiers and androids, and he felt sick when he inevitably imagined Connor kneeling in the snow, a machine gun pressed to the back of his head. At one point he witnessed such an execution, and something about the bright blue thirium against the snow—hell, it fucking glowed in the dark…. He’d barely driven two blocks before he had to swerve to a curb and open his door to puke.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?”

Hank really looks at the android now, and is pained to see the bullet hole, the blue blood now dried along his shoulder, spattered like neon paint along the front and sides of his usually neat jacket. Connor is filthy, his hair is a mess, his clothes are frayed and torn in places. It’s a miracle he’s alive.

Alive.

Hank smiles and leans back against the counter, crossing his arms. "So what now?"

Connor looks tired, if that's possible. He inhales sharply and looks away. It’s such a human trait, looking away to think. As if staring while your brain is churning isn’t polite.

His eyes dart back to Hank, worried. “I don’t know. For the first time, I don’t have a mission. That…‘voice’ in my head is quiet.”

“That’s how humans feel all the time, Connor. We have no idea what the fuck we’re supposed to do. But finding that purpose? That’s what makes us human. That’s free will, Connor.”

You gave me a purpose again.

One side of Connor’s mouth pulls into that familiar smile, as if he can read Hank’s thoughts.

“Well, for a start, why don’t you go clean yourself up?” Hank suggests. “You look like you got shot.”

Connor peers down at the hole in his shoulder, taking in his disheveled appearance. “You’re right—I’m a mess.”

“I have some clothes that might fit you, from when I was uh….younger.”

“I suppose mine aren’t really suitable any more,” Connor replies. Without hesitation or ceremony, he removes his jacket. But he holds it gently, folds it so that the “RK800” and serial number in iridescent silver faces up. Stares a moment.

Getting sentimental, Connor?

Before, Hank would have said this aloud, jokingly. He wonders what Connor feels, about to relinquish one of the few things he has, one of the only things that has ever identified him.

You’re more than a number now. You don’t belong to Cyberlife.

Connor looks at Hank and holds his jacket out to him. “Will you put this somewhere for safekeeping?”

Hank smiles. “Sure.”

With that, Connor starts towards the bathroom. But he stops. “You wouldn’t happen to have a soldering iron, would you?”

Before Hank can ask ‘what the fuck’, Connor adds, “for my shoulder.”

“Ah, shit. No. Is that how you normally fix yourself?”

“No. Normally I’d return to Cyberlife and have them repair me.”

“It doesn’t...hurt, though, right? You’re fully functional and all?”

Connor smiles. “I’m alright, Lieutenant. I suppose I wanted to fix it more for your sake, so you’ll stop looking worried.”

Hank scratches the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. Before either of them can say anything more, Connor continues down the hallway.

Hank follows, heading into his bedroom as Connor turns into the bathroom. He opens the closet and reaches for the far right side. He has some old t-shirts, a couple button-ups, even a black suit jacket. He hasn’t worn it since…. But he grabs it anyway, thinking that perhaps Connor may still prefer to wear a jacket. Hell, Connor probably doesn’t even know what he prefers at this point, but at least he’ll have options. More than anyone’s ever given him. He grabs a pair of old jeans, too. He even considers a tie, but decides it’s time for Connor to loosen up a little.

He heads to the bathroom, and finds Connor standing before the sink, staring at his reflection. He hasn’t started to clean himself up.

“I, uh, found a few things,” Hank says from the doorway.

Connor turns slightly, and Hank approaches. He offers the clothes, and Connor takes them.

“You need anything else?”

“Just this,” Connor replies. He takes up Hank’s barber style razor, and holds it at chin level.

Hank starts forward, fear punching him in the gut.

But in a flash, Connor has the edge of the razor against his temple. It’s then that Hank realizes he’s going to remove the LED.

Connor looks at Hank in the mirror, and Hank nods.

With a flick of the razor the LED drops, and Connor catches it with his left hand. The spot on his temple quickly recolors, leaving no trace. He pinches the disc between his fingers, looks at it a moment, and then drops it into the trash.

Connor turns to Hank and smiles.

Such a simple thing, the LED. But standing there before him, without that or the jacket—he looks human. If he hadn’t seen the flash of white beneath the skin, Hank would briefly wonder if it was all a show. He’s seen cops go undercover so well and for so long that he barely recognized them without the cover.

As Connor picks up the shirts to examine them, Hank turns to leave. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Hank grunts a “mmm” in response and pulls the door mostly shut.

Suddenly his house feels foreign, like when you return from a long vacation and everything smells different.

Overwhelmed, he sinks heavily into the couch.

Will Connor stay with him? He’ll offer, of course. He can use the couch, or I could convert the garage…. Wait, he doesn’t even sleep, does he? Well, he needs somewhere to be, or else he’ll just be....here, all the time.

But what if Connor decides to live with the androids? Will he leave Detroit?

Fuck, what will he do? He’ll never return to DPD, not after attacking Perkins, letting Connor into the evidence room. He’d tossed his badge and gun on Fowler’s desk to avoid being arrested—although he won’t be surprised if Perkins decides to press charges, tries to get him thrown in jail for assaulting a federal agent. What’s the minimum sentence for that? Six months? A year?

Not worth worrying about now.

Seeing Hank on the couch, Sumo raises his head.

“C’mere, Sumo.”

Sumo slowly gets up from his bed and pads his way over. Hank pats the couch, and Sumo jumps up to lie down next to him. He places his head on his leg.

“That’s a good boy, Sumo.” Hank scratches his head, gives him a solid pat on the back.

Without androids doing pretty much all of the labor, he imagines the country will be in chaos shortly. Stores will be ransacked, people desperate for supplies. Terrified of androids, who will all soon be aware—alive—will humans flee the cities? Surely some androids will be angry, seek justice for years of slavery and abuse. Will Detroit become a capital for the androids?

His thoughts are interrupted by Connor approaching from the hall. Before he can turn to look at him, the android steps around to the front of the couch. He’s wearing the old Knights of the Black Death t-shirt, once black but now a faded dark gray. He’s rinsed his hair and apparently tried to towel dry it because he looks a little like a cockatoo. Gone is the dirt and the blue blood. He’s kept the rest of his outfit the same, but he looks like a kid in his 30s now.

Kid, Hank? You old fuck.

But something about seeing Connor like this fills him with hope. Hope for the world, but most importantly, for himself. He feels alive for the first time in three years. There’s plenty to worry about, sure, but it all seems distant.

“I put the other clothes on your bed,” says Connor. He holds up his white shirt, stained with blue. “I’d like to keep this, if we can get the stains out.”

“Just toss it in with my stuff.”

Connor looks around.

“Shit, sorry—the washer’s in the garage, the door at the end of the hall.”

“Ah.”

“Here, just put it down. I’ll wash it later.”

Connor sets the folded shirt on the arm of the couch, and looks at Hank. His expression softens. “I haven’t thanked you for what you did,” he says. “Not just at the station, but back with the other Connor. It—he—would have killed me.”

Hank grimaces. “It’s my own damn fault he was even there, Connor. I should have realized it wasn’t you.”

“I doubt you could have. At any rate, thank you, Hank. For everything."

Is that the first time he’s ever called him by his name?

Hank smiles. “You’re welcome. You’re also welcome to stay here, Connor, for however long you want to. I, uh...wouldn’t mind some company. I’m sure Sumo wouldn’t, either.”

Connor looks at Hank, smiling that half smile of his.

Hank doesn’t have a word for what Connor is to him, but he knows that he loves him. And he hopes that he’ll stay, at least for a while.

“I’d like that,” Connor replies.

Hank smiles. “First rule of living here, Connor: If Sumo is lying on you, you don’t have to move.”

“I think that’s a fair rule. Can I get you something?”

“No, no. At some point I’ll have to go out scavenging for lunch, but right now, I just want to sit here.”

His eyes feel heavy, as heavy as Sumo’s head on his leg. The house is quiet, snow gently falling outside.

He feels the couch sink slightly as Connor sits beside Sumo, and he opens an eye to see the android curling up like a cat at the other end of the couch, laying his head on Sumo.

Tears sting Hank’s eyes, and he shuts them tighter to keep them at bay. But his heart is full to bursting, and soon he’s quietly sobbing.

He would risk his life again for Connor, and again, and whatever number of times circumstances demanded. He would gladly go to jail for his role in the android revolution because Connor is free. Alive. Whatever price fate might demand of him, he’ll pay it. Because for the first time since he can remember, he’s whole.

[thetravelerwrites]

Sheng (Part 2) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Yeren Additional Tags: Exophilia, Yeren, Chinese Yeti, Bigfoot, Sasquatch Content Warnings: Slavery, Indentured Servitude, Gladiator Words: 5545

The conclusion to the story commissioned by @floral-and-fine​! After three years, the reader returns to repay Sheng's generosity. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Sheng’s friend Rantha was a large, black minotaur, you discovered. He and Sheng had been raised together at the arena. Rantha had had the makings of a top-winning gladiator when he was young, but he left after he killed a man during a bout, deciding that fighting wasn’t what he wanted to do with his life.

He now made a living as a hunter and was married with two sons, living in a quaint cabin in the forest, which is where he took you when you left the city. You had given Edgar the extra papers you’d found before you made your escape, not certain what they were, but hoping Edgar could do something with them and help other people unjustly imprisoned find freedom, or at least justice.

Mercy, Rantha’s wife, was a cheerful and accommodating woman. She had a shriveled left arm, an affliction she’d had since childhood, but she managed to do things one-handed with little to no trouble at all. When you told her about how your own family had sold you into slavery to pay off their debts, she had told you about being left here in the forest to starve by her mother.

However, it was only because of that that she was able to meet and marry Rantha in the first place. She knew she was lucky, though; if Rantha hadn’t been here and she’d been left at an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere with no help, she wasn’t sure if she’d still be alive. As much as you empathized with her, it did make you feel better knowing that her own sad tale had a happy ending. You hoped you and Nhemi had a happy ending waiting for the two of you, as well.

Nhemi, who’d grown up a slave, wasn’t used to not having any work to do and was a little confused by the change. Honestly, you were feeling out of sorts, too. Rantha and his family gave you food and shelter with no expectation of reimbursement. Being a guest after being a servant for so long felt unnatural to the both of you.

That evening, Rantha slept in his boys room and gave you, Nhemi, and Mercy the large bed.

“I’m sorry for inconveniencing you,” You whispered to Mercy as the three of you began to prepare for sleep.

“It’s no trouble at all, love,” She replied. “Rantha has been helping folks escape hard lives in the city since before the two of us ever met. He was able to walk away from the arena freely, but a lot of the friends he left behind weren’t as lucky. I think he’s always felt guilty about that.”

“I get that,” You said. “I wasn’t close with many of the other slaves besides the children I helped raise, like Nhemi, but I still feel bad that I’m here and they’re there.”

“I can’t tell you how to feel, of course, but considering you were working off someone else’s debts and that you were being held illegally, you’ve more than earned your freedom in my opinion. You don’t have to feel bad that you’ve finally received what you deserved in the first place. Trust me, that was a lesson I had to learn myself.”

You smiled. The three of you climbed into bed with Nhemi in the middle. She’d only ever slept on a thin cot before, so the plush bed was something she was unfamiliar with. She adapted quickly enough, and was dead asleep in a matter of minutes.

Despite the exhaustion due to the three day flight from the city to Rantha’s hidden cabin, you lay there unable to doze off. You stared up at the ceiling, the uncertainty of yours and Nhemi’s future made sleep slow in coming. Where would you go? You were now a fugitive on the run. If you or Nhemi were caught, it was the gallows. Rantha said there were options, places you could go where the people would protect you, but that seemed dubious to you. You knew better than anyone that everyone had their price.

Rantha had told you that Sheng had provided you with a care package of money and papers recommending you for work wherever you chose to go. You weren’t even sure where you should go. Where would be safe? Honestly, the safest thing would be to leave the country altogether.

You could go to the port in Shoreton and beg for a place on a ship. You didn’t know anything about working on a boat, but you were a fast learner. Every ship needed someone to mop decks and cook. You’d need to buy some trousers.

What about Nhemi? Would she be able to work on the ship? You knew there was an orphanage two towns over. Should you leave her there? You didn’t like the idea of leaving her with strangers, but it may be what was best for her.

With the future uncertain, you fell into an uneasy sleep, visited by tense dreams that were gone when you woke.

Three Years and Five Months Later

You stepped off the gangplank in Shoreton, adjusting your hat and looking out over the port town with a smile on your face. Shoreton was built on the ruins of an ancient elvish city, long decayed. What it’s original name was is lost to time, but now it was a town full of life and livelihood with fisherman and sailors and working girls. It felt more like home than any home you’d ever known, despite you spending a collective few months there.

You had managed to get a job on a merchant ship. Their merchandise was of questionable origin, but they hired you and Nhemi as deckhands, mopping the deck and scraping barnacles off the bow. Much like in the arena, you had worked your way up into owning your own small transport ship with a handful of crew, including Nhemi, who could climb the rigging like a spider.

Despite being a woman, your reputation for getting cargo where it needed to go regardless of seas or circumstance had garnered you a lot of business. In three years, you were now a captain of a small fleet of ships and a loyal crew. Your habit of humming as you navigated had earned you the name “Sea Sparrow” by your crew, a nickname that had caught on with the other sailors.

Next to you was your first mate, Neeta. Neeta was a siren who’d fallen in love with a crew member of yours. She was also the secret to the success of your business. The crewman she loved had died during a pirate raid, and the two of you had hunted them down and slaughtered them in his honor. Afterward, she swore allegiance to you, becoming a trusted friend and helping keep the seas and weather calm and favorable on your journeys. Staying on the boat allowed her to remember her departed lover and stay close to her home, the sea.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” She asked.

“Yes,” You replied. “This was always the plan. I told you that from the beginning.”

“I know. Far be it for me to question your decision,” She said sardonically. “It’s not as if I’ve ever left my whole world behind for someone I loved, after all.”

“That’s only part of it,” You replied evenly. “I have unfinished business in Dunmountain. Clearing my name is important to me and so is repaying Sheng, but there are people out there who need to pay for wronging me, and people who are still being wronged. Someone has to do something about it.”

“Does it have to be you who does it?”

“If I don’t, then who will?”

Neeta gave a conceding nod. “That’s fair. Do you think you’ll come back to the ships when you finish your work? I can certainly run things in your absence, but the seas will be sadder without you on them.”

You smiled. “That’s kind. I’m not sure. Sheng talked about a small cabin in a small town, and I want him to have what he wants.”

“What do you want?”

“I’ll get what I want, regardless,” You said, smirking. “I always do eventually. The key is convincing people your patient, when really you’re just stubborn.”

Neeta chuckled and crossed her arms, looking out over the port town.

Nhemi stepped up next to you on your other side and took a deep breath, looking up and grinning toothily at you. She wasn’t much taller than she had been three years ago, but she stood straighter and with more confidence. She had earned quite a bit of respect herself, having become an invaluable member of your crew.

“Ah, there you are,” You said, crouching down so that you were eye-to-eye with her. “Now, you remember what I said, you hear? Listen to Neeta, keep close to the rigging, and take care of yourself. When you come of age, one of these boats will be yours. You’ve earned it. And who knows? One day you might be my competition.”

“That’s right, I will!” She said brightly.

You twitched her nose and kissed her cheek. “You be good, alright? You’ll see me again before long.”

“I better,” She said, hugging you around the neck. You returned it and stood, giving Neeta a firm handshake, and headed out into the town to hire a carriage.

It was a nerve-wracking six days to reach the city. Not much had changed, especially the arena. The sight of it when you rode past it made your heart lurch. Was Sheng still there? Did he think of you? Had he been hurt again since you’d been gone? Had he gotten into trouble for helping you?

You’d thought of sending him a message, but Rantha said it was dangerous. The only thing you’d been allowed to do was send a missive to Edgar with the words “All is well” and hope he passed it along for you.

You found an inn uptown and set your belongings in it. You’d sent a letter to a magistrate in the city asking to meet, and the date was set for tomorrow. The waiting was agonizing. You wanted this to be over. You wanted the slavemaster and your family in jail. You wanted to see Sheng. But, you reminded yourself, you had decided not to meet Sheng until all this business was done. Sheng was the final piece.

The next morning, you went to the magistrate’s office with the papers you had kept on your person for the last three and a half years. You were so sick with nerves that you hadn’t been able to eat your breakfast, but you kept a stern and stoic face. You imagined you were quite the sight for the land-locked city, wearing a sword on your belt and a fine overcoat. Not to mention the well-tailored trousers. Tasteful women didn’t wear trousers. Not in this city.

“The magistrate will see you now, madam,” The attendant said to you. You nodded to him grimly, and he stepped aside warily to let you pass.

“Judge Andrews, good day,” You said as you entered.

He looked up from his papers. “Ah, good day, madam. You’re my appointment, I assume.”

“Yes,” You replied, and he gestured for you to sit. “You received my last letter, I trust?”

“I did,” He said, laying down his quill and sitting back in his chair. “And those are some serious allegations you’ve leveled against the slavemaster, serious enough to be taken to a higher court than mine, should they be true. I assume you have proof of your claims?”

“I do,” You said, handing him the envelope with the papers. “I also believe you should be in possession of a sheaf of similar documents from an anonymous source, correct?”

“That is correct,” He replied, looking at you curiously. “Though, without a formal complaint, no action could be taken. Are you making such a complaint on behalf of those referenced in the documents?”

“I am,” You said. “Should you need time to peruse the documents, I will wait. I’ve waited this long.”

“You aren’t doing yourself any favors by coming without a legal representative, by the way. Are you sure you don’t want a lawyer?”

You shook your head. “I trust myself and my own competency, not the competency of someone who wants my coin. Especially when lives are at stake.”

He scrutinized your letter with a furrowed brow. “This is indeed the slavemaster’s seal.”

“And you’ll note that the dates and balances are after my original imprisonment.”

“That’s so,” He replied. “It would be very difficult to forge a letter like this. The slavemaster’s seal in particular is quite intricate and nigh impossible to duplicate. I would need a professional sealmaker to inspect it against the slavemaster’s, but this is strong evidence.”

“That’s good news,” You said. “So, how much time will we need to conduct an investigation.”

“No reason not to do it now,” He said, standing from his desk. “We can collect the sealmaster from on our way.”

“Wha--” You rose from your seat as well. “On our way to where?”

“The arena,” He replied. “If what you say is true, he’s had plenty of time to destroy valuable evidence. If we want to catch him red handed before he gets rid of anything that could incriminate him, including his own slaves, we should act fast.

Though he was an older gentleman, he was a spry fellow and quick on his feet. He flagged down a carriage and let you get in first. The two of you spoke on various things, mostly about your imprisonment. He kept the conversation light, but he often attempted to steer the questions toward your escape. It had been illegal, but since the statute was up he couldn’t touch you. He could, however, prosecute the people who assisted your escape. You appreciated his desire to uphold the law, and playful banter though it may have been, you refused to implicate anyone and carefully hedged the subject. After a while, he gave you a knowing look and ceased his attempts to glean information from you.

He made a brief stop at the sealmaster’s shop, grabbing the sealmaster and explaining the situation. He and the magistrate appeared to be associates, and though the visit was abrupt, he did acquiesce to accompanying the two of you to the arena to confirm the validity of the seal.

The arena loomed over you as you approached, it’s shadow an oppressive presence. One last time, You told yourself silently. Just this one time, and it’ll be over, either way.

This was the first time you’d ever walked in the front gate as opposed to the slave’s entrance. Your natural instinct was to lower your gaze, but you reminded yourself that you weren’t a slave anymore and you kept your eyes straight ahead.

“Pardon,” Judge Andrews said, catching an attendant’s attention. “Could you please notify the slavemaster that Judge Andrews has arrived and would like a meeting with him.”

“Of course, your Honor,” The attendant said. “Can I show you to a lounge where you may wait?”

“Please do, young man,” Andrews replied. “Bring wine.”

“Yes, your Honor.” The attendant turned and led you to the upper ring to one of the nicer private sitting areas.

“Young man,” Andrews said to him before he left. “Do tell the guard to be on alert but say nothing to anyone else. Bring two of your strongest to guard this room.”

“Yes, your Honor,” The attendant said, clearly disturbed but excusing himself to follow the judge’s orders.

Wine was brought, and the three of you sat discussing various things while guards arrived and flanked the doors of the sitting area. You recognized one of them, but you looked a bit different than you had when you were last here, so you weren’t sure if he knew it was you.

The attendant returned and said, “The slavemaster is available, if you’ll follow me.”

“No,” The magistrate said. “No, the slavemaster will come to us. And tell him to bring his seal. We have very important paperwork to go over. Tell him that.”

“Uh… yes… your Honor,” The attendant said uncertainly.

“Oh, wait, before you go,” You said, catching him as he turned. “Is… Does Sheng still fight for the arena?”

“Yes, madam,” The attendant said. “He has a fight today, in fact.”

“I see,” You said, keeping your voice level. “I will sponsor today’s event, then. Can that be arranged, or does he have another sponsor today?”

“He does not, madam,” He replied. “I will inform him that he has a sponsor and arrange for a meeting once he has become presentable.”

“Thank you,” You said, and tossed the boy a coin. He accepted it with a bow and left.

Judge Andrews raised an eyebrow at you. “It costs a pretty penny to sponsor a prize fighter, even for one round.”

You sipped your wine delicately. “I have a debt to repay.”

“Hmm,” He said, and drank his own wine.

The slavemaster took a full hour to drag himself to the meeting, and when he arrived, he did not look pleased.

“It’s good to see you, Judge Andrews,” He said, not at all looking as if he meant it. “To what do I owe this unprompted, unannounced visit? I was told something about documents to go over? Was this not something that could have been done from the comfort of my office?”

“Did you bring your seal, Master Owens?” Judge Andrews asked, ignoring the slavemaster’s questions.

The slavemaster sighed and produced it from his robes.

“Cornelius,” Judge Andrews said, gesturing at the sealmaster, who took the seal and fixed a jeweler’s loupe to his eye.

“What’s this about, James?” The slavemaster asked, crossing his arms.

“Pitting is identical,” The sealmaster said, examining the seal in reference to the document. “Grooves are the same. Moreover, I was the one who made this seal for the slavemaster. I can say with confidence that this document was not forged.”

You smiled slowly. Got you, you smug bastard.

“Forged? What are you talking about?” The slavemaster said.

“Read for yourself,” Judge Andrews said, handing the paper to the slavemaster. He snatched it from the judge’s hand and scanned it. His face then paled. “I also have these,” The judge said, retrieving the papers you had left with Edgar from his coat pocket. “These also have your seal on it, and I’ll eat my chair if they don’t match. What have you to say, Master Owens?”

“They’re forged!” The slavemaster protested. “They must be! I’ve never seen them before, I swear it!”

“Ah, but you see that’s why I’ve brought Cornelius, here. He was the one who made your seal, as he stated. He, himself, has judged them to be genuine documents.”

“Nonsense! I want a second examiner!” The slavemaster insisted. “I demand a proper investigation be done!”

“You can demand all you like from your jail cell,” Judge Andrews said. “Guards, arrest the slavemaster.”

The guards stationed outside the door entered and took the slavemaster by the arms, dragging him backward. You stood up and watched as he was forced, kicking and spitting, from the room.

“Did you want to say anything to him?” Judge Andrews asked.

You shook your head. “No. That’s done. Nothing needs to be said.”

He nodded in understanding. “Very well. I have much paperwork to do, so I shall be going. Please come by soon to sign some papers, will you?”

“Of course.” You held out your hand. “Thank you for your help, your Honor.”

He took your hand and shook it. “It was my privilege, dear lady. Do take care.”

“I will.”

He and the sealmaster left, and you sat down, sipping at the wine and waiting for the attendant to retrieve you for the fighting match.

You were led to one of the private sponsor’s boxes in the upper ring. This was all so surreal. You’d been in every inch of this arena, but never as a guest. You almost felt like you should get up and sweep the floor.

There was a roaring cheer that made you sit up in your seat and look down eagerly. There, striding out into the ring, was Sheng. His fur was shiny and glowing. He held up his hands and drank in the praise from the crowd. Seeing him made your hairs stand on end, but you also smiled. At least one thing hadn’t changed.

He stopped in the center and waved to the children, like he always did. He then bowed to the crowd. Finally, he turned to the box where you sat, and though he couldn’t see you from this distance, he bowed more deeply than he had to anyone else.

His bout was incredible, and you watched it on the edge of your seat, breathless. He was so graceful and athletic, even for his size. Your memories of him were nothing compared to him in real life, and you couldn’t wait to see him face to face again. You just hoped he would still see you as a friend, after all this time. Three years was plenty of time to change a person’s feelings. Not enough to change yours, but that was beside the point.

As expected, he won, and he was showered with applause and flowers from the crowd. You wished you had one you could throw to him, even if he didn’t know it was from you. He bowed again to you before he left the ring, scooping up several of the flowers that had floated to the ground and holding them up in salute to the audience.

“Madam?” You heard from behind you. It was a second attendant, a woman that you didn’t recognize. “A room has been prepared for you with refreshments while you wait for Sheng to get ready. If you’d follow me, please?”

“Of course, thank you,” You said, rising from your seat. “Are you a slave?”

“Oh.” She seemed surprised by the question. “Yes, madam, I am.”

“Whose debts brought you here?”

Her face soured. “My husband’s.”

“And where is he?”

“Drank himself to death. I inherited his debts.”

“Hmm,” You said. You took a few coins from your pocket and passed them to her. “To freedom. From one slave to another.”

“Thank you, madam!” She said. “Thank you very much!”

“You don’t have to call me madam,” You said, smiling. She returned the smile. “What’s your name, love?”

“Anya,” She replied.

“Well, Anya,” You said, linking your arm with hers. “Why don’t you relax and have a drink with me until Sheng is ready?”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” You said. “The slavemaster would sell me in a heartbeat.”

“Today is your lucky day, Anya,” You laughed. “Come on.”

She sat with you until another attendant informed you that Sheng was ready to meet with and to collect your sponsorship fee, at which time Anya excused herself. You took a deep, shaky breath and waited.

Sheng entered the room, looking glorious, and smiled at you. You knew him well enough to know when he was trying to hide when he was tired.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” He said, his deep voice reverberating throughout the chamber. “If I might ask why you decided to sponsor me today? Have you seen me fighting before?”

“Oh, many times,” You said, smiling and trying to keep your heart from jumping out of your chest. “Though, it was usually from the very cheap seats. This is the first time I’ve been back to the arena in several years.”

“Welcome back,” He said. “How was the view from the sponsor’s box?”

You chuckled. “If I’m honest, I preferred the old view.”

“And why is that?”

You sucked in a breath. “Sheng,” You said softly. “Don’t you know who I am?”

He blinked, and his smile slipped. “I’m sorry, my lady, but should I? Have we met?”

You sighed. “Well, I guess it’s not surprising you don’t recognize me. Cut my hair, and it’s a bit sun-bleached, too. I wear pants now. I didn’t do that when you knew me. I got a tan and lost some weight. That can happen when you’re on a boat for over three years.”

“A boat?” He said, confused.

“Yes,” You said. “I begged my way onto a ship after I… left. Worked my way up, and now I’m very successful. It’s why I sponsored you. I had a debt to repay.”

“A debt to me? Why?” He asked.

“Sheng, do you really not know who I am?”

He held out his hands in exasperation. “I’m sorry, my lady.”

“Then let me remind you,” You said. You reached for your bag and pulled out a brush. “Come and sit.”

He eyed you warily, but he complied. He was still wearing his breastplate, but he’d taken off his bracers and neckguard. You reached up and carefully ran your fingers through the fur of his neck and began to brush in long, broad strokes. After a few seconds, he stood up abruptly and swung around, his eyes and mouth wide open.

“It’s you!” He said in a quiet voice. “You came back!”

Your eyes filled with tears as you laughed. “Of course I came back, you lump!” You jumped up into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist. He gripped you to him tightly.

“Oh, I thought I’d never see you again, little one!” He said into your hair. “What have you been up to all this time? Is that a sword on your belt?”

You snorted a laugh. “Yes,” You replied. “It’s helpful for fighting off pirates.”

“Pirates?” He asked, pulling back to look at your face. “What work has you dealing with pirates?”

“I’ll tell you all about it,” You said, crying. “Whatever you want. I’ll tell you anything.”

He kissed you. It wasn’t the same as the one he’d given you when the two of you had parted over three years ago, which was soft and feather-light and spoke of a long farewell. This was rough, hungry, and needy. Heat flared between your legs and you moaned against his lips.

He put you down on your feet and took your hand.

“Come on,” He said. “Let’s go somewhere more private, where we won’t be disturbed. You remember the way to my quarters?”

You smiled. “Some things one never forgets.”

He grinned back at you and the two of you sprinted to his rooms. Once there, the two of you began shedding clothes like they were on fire. Your breathing was ragged and his hands were shaking as he reached to touch your body.

“I’ve dreamed of this for three years,” He breathed. “Longer. I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you from the arena, peeking into the ring. That was lust back then but even still I cared for you. I didn’t realize I loved you until it was too late.”

“It’s not too late, Sheng,” You said, carding your fingers down the fur of his chest. “I’m right here. I’m here because I chose to be. I chose you.”

He picked you up bridal style and tossed you lightly onto his wide bed. You bounced up and down with a giggle.

“You did lose some weight, but there’s still plenty of jiggle in those parts of yours,” He said, laughing as he climbed over you, pressing you down into the bed with his body.

You snickered and slapped his shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”

“You like it,” He said as he kissed you. His kisses moved to your ear, then your neck, and to your breasts. He squeezed and kneaded them while he sucked on your skin. You sighed and pulled up your knees as he settled his body between them. Your back arched as he moved lower, kissing and sucking your belly and lifting your legs up and open.

The first press of his tongue against your slit was like lightning in your body, and the muscles of your stomach clenched. The sheets were balled in your fists as he sucked at your core, teasing the lips with one of his fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” You wheezed.

“Where did you hear such language, missy?” He asked.

“I’m a sailor now, remember?” You said breathlessly.

“I thought that ‘cursing like a sailor’ thing was an old wives’ tale,” He said.

“It mostly is,” You said, looking down at him lying between your legs. “Can we discuss it later?”

He grinned wickedly at you and went back to his task with renewed vigor. You moaned and bit your lip as he eased a finger inside you, crooked and rubbing the sweet spot. You felt yourself coming to a climax, but just as you were on the cusp of falling over that cliff, he stopped, much to your dismay.

“Now, now,” He said, pulling himself up your body, kissing your skin as he went. “We don’t want to burn ourselves out before the main event.”

“I can go for hours,” You replied.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” He chuckled, kissing your lips. You rolled him until you were straddling his waist. He was rock hard underneath you, and you slicked him in the wetness from your slit, rubbing yourself against him. He gripped your hips and groaned, his eyes closing.

“Is this as good as your dreams?” You asked, bracing yourself on his chest.

He touched your cheek and made a fist in your hair, pulling your head back. You laughed.

“Better,” He said. “Infinitely better.”

You pushed up on your knees while he reached between the two of you and held his cock in place so that you could slide slowly down upon it. There was a little bit of pain due to his size, but you gave yourself a minute to adjust, and began to rock gingerly. You bent down to kiss his chest and fondle his nipples and he bucked a little underneath you.

“You’re going to make me pop too soon,” He huffed.

“That’s alright,” You said, sitting up and bouncing faster. “You got me pretty close, it won’t take much to make me cum now.”

He grunted and his fingers dug into your flesh as he drove up into you from below to meet your hips as you came down on him. The two of you were beyond words at this point, moving in sync with each other. Your thigh twitched as you came suddenly, gushing down his shaft as he released inside you with a drawn out groan of pleasure.

You collapsed onto his chest with a deep sigh of satisfaction. He wrapped his arms around you and held on tight. Eventually he rolled so that you were tucked into his side and he breathed deeply, as if asleep.

“Are you still awake?” You asked.

“Aye,” He said quietly. “Though my vision went fuzzy for a moment.”

“You can’t die yet,” You said, kissing his chest. “You still need the cabin in a quiet town. The little tadpoles. I’m going to make your dreams come true. It’s why I came back for you.”

“What about your dreams?” He asked, opening his eyes to look at you.

“You’re half of them, and I’ve got that now. The other half I’ll have to work on, if you’ll support me.”

He hugged you in tight. “Anything you want.”

By the time you were pregnant with Sheng’s first child, you’d taken a position at Judge Andrews’ firm and started working your way up, like you always did. Even though women were not allowed to actively participate in politics, the two of you began petitioning for fairer treatment for slaves as well as making it illegal to sell family members into slavery to pay for their own debts

There was plenty of pushback from people who liked the system the way it was and didn’t want things to change, but you were just as stubborn as they were. You went through all of the cases of the current slaves at the arena and made sure the ones who were being held illegally were freed with reparations. You also ensured that the responsible parties were arrested and tried for their crimes. You had to do all of this through Judge Andrews, which meant you didn’t get any of the credit, but that didn’t matter as long as justice was served.

You made sure Sheng got his cabin and his garden outside of the city. Commuting to the city for work was a bit of a pain, but you were happy to do it if it meant Sheng was happy. He loved being a househusband and a stay-at-home father, and as much as he wished you’d slow down when you were pregnant, he knew by now that he couldn’t stop you. If you had a mission on your mind, you wouldn’t stop until it was complete. He knew that. It’s one of the things he loved about you, even if it frustrated him at times.

You still had a long way to go, but some things were going to take time.

You were patient. You could wait.

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[sp00kworm]

2388 - Start Log

Pairings: None

Warnings: Murder, Animal Death, Child Death.

---

A/N: This is based on some very vague headcanons I have about Revenant’s past and I wanted to write in a new kind of style. 

---

Revenant held the small recording in his hand, his metal fingers stretching at the alloy as he looked at the unmarked, thin chip. It was black and sleek, tiny in the scale of things, but somehow untouched out on that dust bowl planet. His burning orange eyes shifted to focus on it again before he stood from the chair and slammed open the door to the lounge room, leaving with a grumble towards Elliott who was on his way in. The man jumped out of his way with a high-pitched screech and watched him stalk down the hall. Revenant made sure to hunch his plated shoulders before he climbed the stairs and stalked down the hallways of the dorm area, making sure that none of the others were following him before he opened his room and closed the door. It was dark and dusty, but the Simulacrum was quick to pull open his drawers to find the one item he really wanted. The chip reader. He pulled the old technology from the drawer and opened the small insertion plate with a claw. The hole cover popped open and he placed the chip inside and flicked the holoscreen display up. The blue light was dull with age, but it flickered to life before displaying a blurry image and the option to play.

 In front of him sat himself. He had relatively short, blond hair pulled back with a fine toothed, ivory comb he remembered buying from a group of hunters. He reached to his chest pockets subconsciously. He always kept it in his breast pocket. With a growl he swiped at the play button and heard it click. For a moment it was quiet as the ghost of himself looked to the high window in the metal wall. He rolled his blue eyes and leaned back in the chair as the sound of a giant, heavy loader holo-vehicle roared. The engines seared the microphone for a moment before the assassin sighed and reached to undo another button of his shirt. There was a discarded head scarf and cloak on the chair behind him as he played with a knife along his fingers. The audio crackled and popped before synching properly and pausing. Revenant hit play again when it was finished and listened.

“Start Log. 2388. It’s been twenty-eight hours since I eliminated the target and counting. I’m in a safe house by the delivery routes back into the city. Shit hole of a back water place. Its barely a city, more of a god forsaken dustbowl. A place like this for a mafia causing so much trouble.” The blond man scoffed at the screen before the sound of a pistol chamber snapping came through the static. He raised the pistol before unscrewing the silencer and pulling the magazine free with a practiced movement, “One bullet to the back of the skull. Executioner style. I capped him in front of his latest little conquest. She screamed a lot. I got blood on my boot covers. They’re camel skin. I better get reimbursed for those.” He took apart the gun with practiced ease, the pieces set along the table in a neat, perfect line, from start to finish, “Anyway. Targets dead and I’m waiting for transport back. Hammond have left me high and dry again, for the third time this year. I wonder what I could do to get some more special treatment from them.” Kaleb grinned with white, perfect teeth, his cheek bones cutting an impressive figure before he reached to touch the scruff along his jaw. He scoffed at it and reached into his waistcoat for a long, thin shaving blade.

 The blade slid open and was brandished like a weapon, the metal flashing before he raised it to his cheeks and dragged it over the new stubble, brushing it away onto a small tissue he also had, but it didn’t stop him from continuing to talk around the blade. Revenant reached for his face and ran his fingers over the scratches in his metal cheek bones. He relapsed often into his human habits, not that he would ever admit it.

“I would get it if these guys were some big-league assholes, but they’re barely an issue. I’ve seen worse, but I suppose this is what stealing weapons will get you out here. The Outlands have never been fuckin’ kind.” He threw the slip blade on the table in front of the camera, “I’d know that better than most.” Kaleb looked the camera in the lens, and Revenant wondered if he had been speaking to someone in that moment as his lips twisted in contemplation, “Fuck it. It’s not like anyone will ever find this.” He leaned back in his seat and started to pick up each piece of the pistol, looking them over before he screwed them back together in slow, precise movements of his wrist

“The Outlands is a shit hole. It always has been since Mister Hammond decided to colonize it. Sand, shit and people killing each other. Its always been the same, despite what they all say. Murder, homicide and genocide.” He paused putting together the gun in order to open a small satchel, and pulled free a packet of tobacco and rollers, Kaleb continued to talk as he took the leaves and placed them into a white paper, “Even this shit was fought over. Hybrid tobacco with no tar. Cartels killed villages over it.” The paper crinkled quietly as he put the filter in and rolled it up, tapping the end against the table before he snapped open a metal lighter and lit it, puffing for a moment before he blew smoke out of the side of his mouth, “The Outlands are a cess pit, that’s what I’m saying.”

 His old self smoked for a while before he held the cigarette in his lips and squinted, getting back to work on fixing the last pieces of the pistol back together with a little grease from another bottle from the satchel, “But its where literally everyone was born now. Earth’s been dead for a long, long time. Including, yes you might have guessed, me.” Kaleb span his pistol and cocked the chamber before he slid the magazine in again and pulled a bullet up into the chamber, “I was born to some power plant family, or so the Matron said. Six months old and they threw me on the doorstep before the plant went bust and blew. I’m not surprised somehow, but the orphanage wasn’t derelict. It was funded for by Hammond. They took kids into the programs there. I wasn’t an exception. I was scouted at fifteen into the special ops program.” A haunting smile spread across his face, “I killed a captain at fourteen, that’s what got me enlisted. It got better though, guns were much easier to use than knives from the kitchen and Matron never did like me taking knives and running with ‘em.” He took his cigarette from his mouth and flicked ash off the end, “Kaleb where has the neighbours dog gone?!” He screeched, “Always nag, nag, nag that woman.” He grumbled as he took another drag, “She probably meant well in the end. Too bad what happened to her as well. I put a pillow over her face when I got enlisted. No survivors allowed. The rest died in the fire.”

 The ash was building up in the clear glass ash tray now, “The Matron wanted me to go anyway, its not like she ever loved us or any of that stupid holo-film shit.” He scoffed and played with his cigarette end, “I used to like animals…well, like was a strong word. I used to test them. There was a hundred stray dogs near us, so I used to take pieces of my dinner and see which would come and take it from me. Whichever dog came close, if they could do a trick, then I gave it ‘em. If they followed me, well I used to like knives, you can guess the rest. They’re easy to trick. Cats though, cats were much better fun. I could never get one to come near me. It’s like they knew I had a knife somehow. One came close once, but it got away, screaming, and biting me before it got up a tree. It stayed there the whole day sleeping until I got bored. I didn’t see it again, but I started taking rats and mice from the kitchen for them. They liked the chase I think, just like I did…Or maybe they just liked me killing the dogs, huh?” He let out a long, raspy, dark chuckle before he stubbed out his cigarette and looked at the lens again, “Why the fuck am I spilling my guts to a recording? I’ll be dead if anyone finds this…well, maybe I just want that challenge.”

 His finger appeared before he chuckled again and pushed his fingers together, “The days at the academy were boring in comparison. I wasn’t allowed out of the facility. I wasn’t allowed knives. I wasn’t allowed to do anything that I wanted. I choked a boy to death on the mat. The prick decided I was a ‘country bumpkin’, so I decided he wasn’t worth the air he breathed. He was purple when they found him. I was careful, I bleach wiped his neck and my hands. They never knew it was me, but I got harsher training for it. They suspected it was me, but there was no evidence.” Kaleb rolled another cigarette before he rummaged for a can in his bag. He pulled out an all-in-one shake from the pack and drank it down without so much as a minor twitch. Revenant remembered them. They tasted like milk and iron, “Otherwise. I do this because I’m good at it. I always have been good at it. Best in the business. I do the dirty jobs that others won’t because of morals.” He reached for the button, “And that’s about it. End log.” The recording ended as he blew more smoke out of the side of his mouth.

 Revenant looked at the black screen for a moment, orange and black optics spinning to adjust, magnifying in and out before he snapped open the port again and tore the chip free, anger burning his chest. He growled and crushed the chip between two clawed fingers. His processors saved the data and he sat back on a chair in order to move and hide the data from those responsible for uploading him. He didn’t need anyone knowing these things. The chip sat in his palm in tiny, crushed pieces of plastic and metal.

“The past is dead.” He muttered before he unlocked the window and threw the pieces out of it, “Its best it stayed buried.” Revenant growled again before he moved to his charging port and slid the wire up into his chasis.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 68: Mayhem at the Ministry

They landed in yet another office, though to call it such was a bit grand. More like a cubicle that was waiting on an upgrade. There was paperwork set up in neat, alphabetical files along the desk that was hardly wider than the chair beneath it, and yet still seemed to find room for the inkpot. A nameplate was the only thing out of place, only the first few letters visible and the rest obscured by a picture of the Weasley family.

The eight of them had been crammed in tighter quarters, but it wasn't fun to have no elbow room in the minuscule space, nor particularly enjoyable to scavenge for the book. It was at the bottom of a stack of papers with freshly signed ink from Crouch over an import of a sphynx that seemed forgotten, the large majority of everything current was complaints and requests for reimbursements of their damaged property from that catastrophe of a Cup.

Remus accidentally tipped it all to the floor as he tried to dig the book out, then winced and muttered an apology to no one here. Potter forced a laugh no one acknowledged as Remus began Mayhem at the Ministry, eyes flickering to the floor once more and mentally agreeing.

Lily shifted uneasily in sympathy as Mr. Roberts gave the improper goodbye upon Harry's group leaving, well aware that could have so easily been her or her family under other circumstances. On pure instinct, her mind flickered to the thought Sev would never let that happen to her, but then she shifted even more uncomfortably as she wondered how true that was. Considering the lot he'd been hanging around so much lately...

The Weasleys made their way home with much a'fuss from their mother, then Harry slipped off to Ron's room and spent some time worrying about Sirius Black not having replied yet. The present Marauders, all four of them she checked, looked surprised and even concerned at this news. Even Regulus Black could be visibly seen biting the inside of his cheek, and Frank and Alice exchanged a bewildered look the man wasn't keeping in better contact with his godson after the news Harry had delivered; still all Lily could think of was her absent friend.

How long had they been missing? Was he worried at all about her? What would she say to him when she saw him again? She tried hard not to look accusingly at Lupin as the last conversation they'd had simmered in the back of her mind.

"...thought we were supposed to be friends?" Snape was saying, "Best friends?"

"We are, Sev, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging round with! I'm sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he's creepy! D'you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?"

Lily had reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up into the thin, sallow face.

"That was nothing," said Snape. "It was a laugh, that's all."

All his throwaway comments, all his pestering and assumptions about what the Marauders got up to, and he'd been right all along. Would she tell him? Was it not fair to admit to him he'd been right all along, they were up to something in school?

Lupin had very nearly killed them, true, but they’d also been locked in a cage with him and he had done everything to stop Black in the meantime from hurting Pettigrew just now. She knew, the whole school knew Severus had done something involving that tree and some monster in its roots because Dumbledore himself had gotten involved and forbidden he speak of the events, to protect Lupin she now knew. Sev followed them all over the school, had apparently followed them down there one night because he could never leave them alone, trying to get them caught and thrown out. Who did that make in the wrong, the illegal animagus’s playing around the werewolf, or her nosy friend for getting involved?

She remembered all the way back now, to Snape’s Grudge and him recounting an event of Potter playing some nasty trick to nearly get him killed. She’d thought that simply hadn’t happened yet, but as protectively as James Potter had defended Sirius Black as well as Remus Lupin through all of this, never leaving a moment of doubt as he stood between his friends and them, it seemed a ludicrous notion he’d do such a thing as get Severus involved in their private affairs when he’d never even bragged to her about his masterful transfiguration work of nearly getting eaten alive once a month via a deer.

He’d done nothing to pull Pettigrew back into the folds of whatever argument they were having though. This future was a complete mess, he was apparently dead because of that friend, a deed he was being punished for but still not scorned away from? He’d held Black back rather than joining in with his son nearly being presumed dead under that mark. What was the line he’d cross? Had Severus made one too many theories and cracks and Potter had tried to teach Lupin a lesson, or were their secrets, their friendship still more to him?

She knew now, even more than her best friend, the insides of their group. Yet it still gave her no better idea of who was in the right in their constant fights. Pettigrew still had dried blood on his face and was avoiding looking at any of his so-called friends, Potter was standing slightly apart from his other two friends with a miserable look on his face and gazing up at the ceiling without taking in a word of what the Ministry was going through any more than her.

Even the Weasley family's inner squabble about some writer giving Arthur some bad light and Percy defending his boss over his father wasn't really holding her attention, she had her own misgiving feelings to worry about.

Regulus, on the other hand, couldn't help but stare on in fascination as Lupin's derivative voice spoke for Percy made his feelings clear. He would have thought Sirius more than anyone would be sticking up for Percy, but he was hissing his displeasure as well into Lupin's ear apparently and had stopped prodding along the edges of his own bloodied nose. Considering the blood traitors he still sort of thought them to be, he'd been under the slight impression from what he'd seen of their family they were all very close, this was an odd perspective to see their inner quarrelings were no different than his family's.

"Dress robes? Of all the silly things for the school to add?" Alice giggled a bit and squeezed Frank's hand. He startled a bit and dragged his attention to her from his own thoughts, but then admitted sheepishly he hadn't caught what she said.

"What's the matter?" She asked as Ron began complaining to his mother for the pair he got. They did sound a bit old fashioned.

He hesitated for a moment but didn't bother lying to her, sharing his impending worry. "I'm ah, wondering what Harry's going to encounter at school this year is all. Something's obviously building up to happen, again."

She wanted to laugh that having to dress up had him so worried, but Lupin gave them the warning the chapter was about to end before she could respond, and she winced a bit at the parting lines showing more discourse running in the Burrow as Ron lamented his poor state again. She gazed once more about the office, eyes lingering on the Weasley family photo on the desk. She couldn't help but mentally agree her boyfriend was probably right to be worried at this rate.

HPHPHP

Your input is important to me, every single person reading this, so if there's someone's point of view you'd like to see more of feel free to let me know.

[excelsi-or]

07/05/25 - i got you (woozi)

w.c. 1.4k (angst, hurt-comfort stuffs?)

A/N: GUYS, WE’VE NEARLY MADE IT TO THE END. THANKS TO THOSE WHO HAVE STUCK IT OUT WITH ME FOR NEARLY LIKE 3 OR 4 MONTHS.

April 29, 2025

May 7, 2025

“Have you seen him?”

“No, not since I left the studio,” Hansol says down the line. “Have you checked? He’s been working over time to impress the bosses.” He pauses. “When you do find him, let him know that they all really love him and already knew he was good at what he does.”

“Yeah.” She stares up at the clock above the TV. The new apartment is still bare and their furniture comes in the morning. Jihoon promised to be of use, which means that he should also be home to sleep. “It’s just… he hasn’t stayed at work late since you got him the job.”

“Bad habits. He’s probably just trying to prove himself.” She can practically see Hansol’s shrug. “I’m sure he’s fine, noona. But if you really want to check on him there, I think Bumzu hyung said he was going to stay late too. He might still be there.”

“Okay, I’ll text him.”

“Let me know if you find him.”

She frowns at Hansol’s choice of ‘if’ rather than ‘when’, but knows her best friend probably didn’t notice. She pushes herself off the couch and grabs a raincoat off one of the boxes near the door. Slipping into rain boots and patting her pockets for her essentials, she heads out the door.

Their new apartment is in a quieter area, which makes going out later at night a bit unsettling. However, a street over is the start of Itaewon, because the boys had had some say in the apartment hunting process. She breaks into the busy nightlife and heads towards the subway.

Two stops and a five-minute walk later, she spots Bumzu waiting for her. He holds the door open as she hurries past him.

“Hey,” she breathes, the cool spring air having taken her breath away.

Bumzu hums his greeting.

“Have you talked to him?”

“Door’s shut.” Bumzu leads her onto the elevator. “And every time I open the door, his headphones are on. He didn’t even come out for dinner.”

She watches the elevator numbers light up in succession. The fact that Hansol was able to get both Bumzu and Jihoons jobs at his company was a massive favour that the man refuses to be reimbursed for. Bumzu and Jihoon continue to pester her about what Hansol actually wants. Continually, she reassures them that Hansol really doesn’t want anything.

They step off the elevator on the fourth floor. 

“See if you can get him to talk.” Bumzu walks her to Jihoon’s new studio near the end of the hall. She hasn’t visited it yet. 

Upon entering, her eyes widen at the blue neon lights around the room. It gives the room a sexy vibe. Sitting at the computer at the opposite end of the room, with his dark hair pushed up at weird angles because of the headphones, is Jihoon.

She makes her way over and peers over his shoulder. That’s when she notices the box of tissues and the soft sniffling noises. She frowns and taps his shoulder. 

Jihoon nearly jumps out of his skin as he spins in his seat. His eyes are out of focus and it takes a second for him to register her. She lifts an eyebrow in concern.

“Jagi? What are you,” he swallows, “doing here?”

“Well, I was sort of concerned because you weren’t home yet and weren’t answering your messages.”

“Oh.”

She grabs the extra rolling chair in the room and pulls it in front of him. She peers closely at him, her hands clasped in her lap. “What’s going on?”

Jihoon stares at her.

“Are you mad at me?”

He shakes his head.

“Are you… busy working on something?”

Jihoon glances back at the computer screen. “Nothing that I can’t work on tomorrow,” he mumbles.

“Okay… are you… worried about something?”

Jihoon is a simple man. He either sleeps too late because he’s working on music or he’s mad at her. There aren’t too many other reasons as to why Jihoon wouldn’t want to come home to her.

He swallows hard and her eyes widen as she watches his eyes begin to water. He buries his face in his hands and turns away from her. Her brow furrows and she reaches for him. She can’t get him close enough, so she stands and wraps her arms around him. Almost instinctively, because Jihoon hasn’t cried in front of her in ages, he wraps his arms around her waist and buries his face into her stomach.

“I got you, I got you,” she murmurs. Her hands run up and down his back. She hums a soft melody that she’d heard Hansol working on a while ago when she’d gone to visit him and Seungkwan. 

Jihoon’s hands grip the back of her jacket and she hugs him tighter.

When his crying subsides, she tugs him towards the couch in his studio. Her arms remain around him and his head buries into her shoulder at a weird angle, as he’s taller than her. She awkwardly manages to wiggle out of her raincoat so that she isn’t getting him wet. Jihoon’s arms are so tight around her waist, he’s near squeezing the life out of her.

“What’s going on?” she manages to ask.

“My mom called.”

Her mind flits to worst-case scenario. She assumes it’s about his father. 

“She’s…” Oh god. “She’s sick.” 

“Sick?” A ball grows in her throat. “Sick how?”

“She has breast cancer.”

Her heart stops and her hands freeze on Jihoon’s back. Jihoon tenses in her arms and immediately, she sucks up her shock and returns to comforting him. “What stage?”

“Second.”

She lets out a sigh of relief, though she isn’t sure Jihoon noticed. Second is better than third. They can deal with second. They can deal with this. “You’re okay. Is that why you didn’t want to come home? You didn’t want me to hear you crying?”

Jihoon doesn’t answer, just hugs her together.

“I’ve got you,” she murmurs into his hair. She kisses his head. “We’ll go visit her tomorrow. Is she at the hospital in Busan?”

“Visit?” he mumbles. He sits up, his eyes swollen. She lifts a hand to his cheek and swipes at his tears with her thumb. “But our furniture.”

She rolls her eyes with a small smile. “I can get some of the boys to deal with it. Or we can cancel and get them to deliver it a different day. Let’s visit her tomorrow. She’ll be happy to see you.”

Jihoon sniffles.

“Your mom can get through this, Jihoonie,” she whispers, pecking his nose. “She’s a tough woman.”

“But…”

“Don’t doubt her. You haven’t even seen her,” she says gently. She decides steering his mind away will probably be better than thinking about it further tonight. He’ll already have trouble sleeping. “Now come on. Save your projects and we can get home.”

Jihoon takes a steadying breath, and with her help, he gets to his feet.

Immediately, she fires off texts in the group chat she uses when planning Jihoon’s birthday parties about something coming up with Jihoon’s family and needing to go to Busan. Almost immediately, the replies come in.

Seungkwan (1:10)

Isn’t your furniture coming in tomorrow?

Do you need me to wait for it?

Mingyu (1:11)

Wonwoo hyung is sleeping, but we can pitch in after work to set it all up.

Soonyoung (1:11)

I can help Seungkwanie out. I don’t have to be in the studio until the late afternoon for classes.

Seungcheol (1:11)

Hannie’s sleeping, but I’ll let him know to be at your place in the morning.

Do you guys need us to unpack too? 

How long will you be in Busan?

She answers their questions, thanks them, and then turns her attention to Jihoon. He shuffles towards her, head ducked, hat on his head and raincoat on. She holds her hands out to him and he pulls her to her feet. When she turns to grab her coat, she nearly face plants into the couch at Jihoon’s sudden back hug. His face slots into the back of her neck, his breath warming her skin.

“Thank you.”

Next: May 20, 2025

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Love your Huwumi fics!!! Can we get some Meet Cute 24 for them? Thnx

Well here’s another idea that’ll most likely escalate into something bigger lmao! Please enjoy this little bit of cute, flirty fun!

If not for Akiko’s insistence and offer of a discount, she wouldn’t have done it. Or so she told herself.

As far as Fuyumi was concerned, she still didn’t understand why she was expected to attend big, ritzy events to help promote her father’s business. After all, it wasn’t like she worked for or with him. She was a grown adult with her own career and her own life to live! She wasn’t obligated to do anything just because her father said so! 

But even still… She liked to maintain friendly relations in her tense family. So when her father had offered to reimburse her the cost of some ballroom dance classes so that he could take her to an upcoming gala in two months time? She was… unenthused, but had agreed nonetheless. When she’d mentioned it to her dear friend, Akiko, she had jumped on it like a starved alley cat on a chicken nugget.

"You should take the class I teach!" she insisted before taking a small sip of her coffee. She made a face. "Ugh! They put way too much caramel syrup in this."

"I thought you taught salsa, flamenco, and ballet fundamentals?" Fuyumi asked. Akiko and her mother, Umeko, ran a dance studio together. Fuyumi had attended some of the ballet classes there back in high school but, once she entered college, hadn’t had the time to keep up.

She nodded, stirring her drink with her straw. "I do. But I'm also teaching pole and ballroom right now," she said. After deciding her drink was mixed up enough, she took another sip. She still made a face, but this time it was a bit more restrained. "Anyway, we're starting up a new six-week session this Friday. The class runs from 6:30 to 7:30, and I know you can make time that night."

Fuyumi let out a small whine and took a sip of her own drink, becoming immediately overwhelmed by the thick vanilla flavor. She swallowed hard and made a face. "You weren't kidding about them going hard on the syrup," she mumbled.

"Right?" Akiko laughed. "But back to the point at hand! The ballroom session we run doesn’t just teach the waltz; we also do the basics and intermediate steps of the cha cha and the tango! That’ll most def impress all those stuffy old douchebags you’ll be spending the night putting up with!”

Fuyumi whined a bit louder as she tried mixing her own drink up to try and distribute the syrup a bit more, maybe water it down a little. “I don’t know,” she trailed uneasily. Sure, it would be nice to be able to go to the gala and put her best foot forward, but more from the sense of just looking good for herself rather than out of spite. She loved Akiko but the other young woman was motivated by only a few things and vengeance was one of the biggest.

“Please sign up? For me? If you do, I'll have an even number of students to pair up! And I’ll even give you a discounted rate on the classes so you aren’t hurting as bad for cash while you wait on your dad to pay you back!" the other pleaded, fluttering her big brown eyes. 

She snorted a bit at it before rolling her eyes. ”Okay, okay, you win. I’ll sign up,” she said, giggling when her friend openly whooped in delight. She took a sip of her drink again and found it… slightly more palatable. She then indicated the other woman with her cup. “But just know I’m only doing this for the discount! And you better draft up the receipts as if you charged the full amount!”

“Of course! Only if you agree to not tell mom that I gave you a discounted rate,” she said, tilting her head and waggling her eyebrows at the other suggestively. They stared at one another before devolving into giggles.

And before Fuyumi knew it, Friday night was upon her.

She swallowed as she walked into the packed room at the studio, the crowd thick enough that it was hard to catch glimpses of herself in the full length mirror against the opposing wall. She considered going over to talk to Akiko, but could see her preoccupied with introductions from some students. Instead, she headed over to the far wall where people were setting their bags down, the odd sensation of eyes on her making her move a bit quicker. She set her bag down and quickly tossed her hair up in a messy but tight bun before tugging self-consciously as the tank top she was wearing as her eyes scanned the room. Oh, gosh, should she have bought some proper dancer’s clothes? She had thought about it going out after work on Thursday, but there had been a last-minute staff meeting that zapped up what little free time she had before she needed to be home to have dinner ready on time. She had figured that the old tank top and capri sweats she’d grabbed would suffice for one class but maybe that was presumptuous of her. 

She was snapped from her musing by a loud clap. She jumped and glanced over at where Akiko stood in front of the group with one of the male instructors by her side. “Okay, everybody, we’re gonna get you guys partnered up! Everybody stand with your back to the mirror and in height order, please,” she directed before turning to say something to her associate.

It was as she moved to join the others in the class that the sensation of being watched returned. From the corner of her eye she caught a flicker of movement and turned to face her watcher. She froze as she locked with sharp eyes of liquid gold settled in a tastefully scruffy face. He was physically fit, wearing a breezy tank top that showed off the defined muscles along his arms and dipped a bit low around the neckline to hint that there was more where that came from. His hair was a gleaming blonde messily pushed out of his face with a black headband. And then there was her deepest, darkest weakness; a light bit of facial hair along his chin and jaw. He was an attractive guy, to put it mildly, and must have confidence, given how he didn’t flinch away when her eyes sought him out. Instead, he slowly leaned back against the balance beam poised just in front of the mirror, tilting his head and flashing her a smirk, looking more like a model on set than some rando in a dance class.

She answered with a small smile of her own when he followed it up with a wink and wandered off to find her place in the line up.

Akiko did a quick scan of those present before she started matching up pairs. She took Fuyumi's wrist and led her right over to Mr. Golden. "Todoroki, Takami, you two will work together," she said, tilting her head out of the young man's view to wink at Fuyumi's pinkening face.

Takami was quick to take her hand with a small hum. "Todoroki-Chan, is it? A pleasure to meet you," he hummed, lifting her hand up to press a quick kiss to the top of her hand.

Fuyumi wished she could slap her cheeks in that moment but instead she politely cleared her throat. “Charmed,” she said gently, forcing herself to regain her composure.

“Oh, I am,” he practically purred.

She flashed a quick glance at her friend, greeted by the other’s dark brown eyes gleaming in amusement. “Okay, Takami. You can flirt with Todoroki on your own time, not my dime. Let’s get everybody on the floor and start with the basic moves, shall we?”

Fuyumi squared her shoulders, heart hammering as Takami led her to join the other pairs in the the lines, Akiko and her partner already having scrambled to the front and starting to give the overview of what the goal was for that days class. Fuyumi was rather relieved that there was a moderate breath of space between their bodies for the waltz steps, as it gave her some level of physical separation from her partner while still being close enough to exchange sly glances. Additionally, it seemed like Takami had a little bit of experience with some kind of dance before, given how easily he took the lead. Fuyumi herself had participated in other dance courses and, while the waltz lessons were new, also had a basic understanding of what to expect. She briefly wondered if Akiko also had some information regarding the prior dance history of her students to assist with picking partners, but couldn't say for certain.

She could, however, say for certain that her partner was charming and that she kind of liked the flirty looks they were exchanging.

“So,” he breathed quietly, at a point where Akiko stopped to help a different pair at the front correct their steps, “what has forced a fetching young lady such as yourself to a class like this?”

She felt a small smile turn up on her lips, a brief flash of courage sparking in her. “Hmm. That’s a rather strange way to put it. Do you think I have a reason other than humble interest behind being here?”

He cocked his head back a bit. “Call it a hunch, but… I get the feeling there’s more to this than a ‘humble interest.’”

“Is that so?” she hummed as they were instructed to return to their starting position to go over the steps again as a whole.

“I’d love to hear more about your reasoning. Maybe over coffee? Or dinner some time? My treat, for getting your phone number and to pick your brain a little,” he said.

She let out a thoughtful hum, sliding her hand slowly up to just a bit beneath his shoulder. Internally, she delighted in being able to touch the muscle she’d been quietly ogling not too long ago. She noticed the light way he shuddered at her touch and a part of her was thrilled by the subtle reaction. “I’ll tell you what,” she drawled. She didn’t miss the way his palm on her upper back flattened a bit more, shifting her just a hair closer and pressing a bit more of his warmth into her, as she spoke. She met his eye fully as she spoke. “If you can encounter me outside of the classroom, on the streets during the day… I’ll give you my number and we can have a little meetup.”

His eyes widened a hair before his grin shifted to more of a smirk. “Oh, so you’d like to play a little bit of cat and mouse? I like that,”

“I had a hunch you might,” she purred back, delighting in the playful back and forth between them. She normally wasn’t this forward or responsive to someone flirting with her. But when it got a guy like this to look at her like that, who was she to complain?

“Well, before we start the game proper, can I at least get the privilege of your full name? To let me know who to be listening out for?”

“Todoroki Fuyumi,” she said. “And what about you? I think I have the right to your name as well.”

He smirked and leaned a bit closer, “Takami Keigo,” he answered, voice barely above a whisper, right as the music clicked back on and they resumed their practice. Fuyumi had to suppress a shudder of delight as they moved, step by step, along the dance floor.

She would need to thank Akiko and Father for their instances after all.

[connorandersons-blog]

Kinktober Day 6: Erotic Dancing, Convin

yay for more Connor/Gavin!!

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

They were to investigate an android sex ring. What had been confusing at first was why the androids seemed to go willingly with the humans even knowing the risks and what was happening. 

It had been Hank that pointed it out. Androids didn't have money and most didn't have a human willing to take care of them. Jobs were limited already and most companies didn't want to hire androids after what had happened, so plenty of androids were desperate enough. 

Now Connor had to play that part. The first choice to go with him was Hank. He trusted the man more than anyone else, but Connor knew it would set him on edge knowing what Connor would need to do. Not to mention that Hank would need to seem interested in Connor and neither liked that idea. 

Connor had no problem doing what needed to be done. He was made with all parts available including genitals, so he could do this to the full extent if need be. Hank had thrown a fit at that, but Connor calmed him by saying he most likely wouldn't even need to consider it. 

All Connor needed to do was pretend to be an android needing money and willing to do anything and then he'd be taken to the back to be prepared. He'd dance until someone-whoever he was working with-became interested. All they needed was that person talking about buying Connor. 

He knew a few android memories had been wiped after being bought, but Connor had a feeling that was left up to the buyer.

Then it was just the matter of who would be going in with Connor. They'd have backup waiting outside but inside it would be Connor and his buyer. 

Fowler had been the one to pick Gavin Reed of all people. Connor could admit the man was good at his job, and he trusted him to not give themselves away, but that didn't mean Connor was happy about it. The man was abrasive at best and downright racist at worst. 

Connor had noted every slur Reed had thrown at him, but from that, he also noted that the amount had slowly decreased over the year Connor had continued to work at the DPD. That didn't mean Connor didn't despise the man.

Despise was a stronger word than in reality, but Connor had made sure his other emotions regarding Reed were pushed down. Way down. 

Getting into the cub had actually been easy, and they didn't really question him, just stuck him in an outfit, and told him the rules. He was to go as far as the human wanted, and 75% of the money went to the ring. 

Connor assured them he could dance, he could do anything they needed, and the manager gave a nod before telling him to start on a raised platform with a pole. He didn't need to do anything too crazy, just dance and try to get someone's attention. 

Connor was out in an angels costume which he found highly amusing considering what he was supposed to do. If a customer wanted, they could fully buy Connor off the ring but for the most part, it was only one-nights or up to a month. He wondered what Reed would go for. 

He stood on the platform and scanned the room as he moved to the music. The bass was heavy enough that he could feel it rattling his chest and the pole that spun slowly. 

He found Reed in the crowd and sent him a wink before he pulled himself up onto the pole, spreading his legs into a perfect split before slowly sliding down. Then he wrapped his legs around it, popping his ass out then standing back up. 

'Stop showing off, we don't want anyone else to actually buy you.' Gavin's message was sent straight to him, and Connor did a small twirl before dropping and making eye contact. 

'Aw, you want me all for yourself?' he teased and chuckled when he saw Gavin's face flush in the dark room. 

'No! Don't want a fucking plastic.' 

Connor chuckled and pulled himself back up, letting himself stumble for a second. 'Better?' 

'No. You're still doing too well.' Reed scowled at him before remembering he was supposed to look interested. 

Connor raised an eyebrow at that. If he was doing well that meant Gavin-no, Reed-was at least somewhat affected by Connor. He'd keep that information to himself for now. 

He gave a small shake that looked far too uncoordinated and he could just faintly hear, over the music and talking, a laugh. 'Rude.' He sent. 

'You look like a toddler trying to dance.' He turned his head back and glared at Gavin who subtly flipped him off. 

Connor's eyes went wide as two men started to be making their way to Gavin. 'Two men, 7 o'clock, big.' 

Gavin looked at the message before pocketing his phone and pushing closer to Connor's. One of the men grabbed Gavin's shoulder and Connor grit his teeth but continued attempting to dance badly. 

They didn't need to see that he knew Reed or felt the need to protect him. He may be a dick but Connor knew he'd have his back if it came to it, and Connor would do the same in return. 

Connor danced for what felt like hours until he saw the two men leave back towards the bar, then slipping into a door. 

'Fuckers are part of this thing and was asking what kind I liked. They aren't even trying to hide this shit.'

Connor sighed in relief that they hadn't been caught and Reed hadn't been harmed. He dropped into a split and bounced slightly, looking over his shoulder. 

Reed had finally made it to his platform and reached out and pushed a five into his very tiny and tight shorts. Connor blew him a kiss before scrambling to get up not-so gracefully.

"You for sale?" Reed called up, leaning into the platform. Connor rolled his body against the pole and felt somewhat flustered that everyone could see most of him. The shorts didn't really hide anything, and it wasn't like he was small either. At least Gavin looked just as flustered at that sight as Connor was.

"No." He snapped before grimacing. He had to play the part of an android not wanting to be treated as property again but desperate enough to do it anyway. "Ah, actually I may be. Would you like a dance?" 

He went down into a middle split and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. 

Reed shifted and looked around before back to Connor. "Maybe, how much do you cost?" 

Connor pretended to think, flexing his legs just slightly. "Twenty for an at a table dance, but there are private rooms too." 

Reed nodded and pulled out a twenty, handing it over. No doubt he'd be reimbursed for all the money he was going to be spending on Connor. 

Connor hopped off the stage and it only took a second before an android woman took his place. So this ring had more than enough androids for these jobs, fuck. 

Connor circled Reed, letting his hand brush against him. He wore his normal day clothes considering it wasn't too odd from the normal in this club. When he got back around he took the collar of Reed's shirt and gently pulled him to a seat before pushing him down on it. 

Casually, almost lethargically, he swayed, in front of Reed, running his hands up and down his own body. His hips moved suggestively, as he looked into Reed's eyes. In slow motion he approached, licking his lips. He could see Reed gulp and his hands tightened on the seat's armrest, knuckles turning white. 

He could feel the heat of Reed's body, as he placed his legs on either side of him, straddling Reed. He looked into his eyes, while his hands caressed Reed's neck, and shoulders. Smilingly, he teasingly rocked his hips.

Turning his back, positioned squarely above his lap he squat quickly up and down, bouncing on his lap without ever making full contact with his groin. Would Reed get turned on by this? He could hear his breath quickening and the hands seemed to be deciding whether or not to keep his hands there.

Connor stood up, turned to face him, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he resumed the teasing. His bottom rocked back and forth first against Reed's thighs then graduating upwards. He rhythmically ground his hips against Reed. And he could actually feel him. He was most definitely affected by this and Connor reached up to run his hands through Gavin's hair before leaning forward, lips brushing against his cheek then ear. 

"Am I still doing too well?" He whispered, fully grinding down onto Reed's lap now. 

"Fuck. Off." Gavin ground out. Connor shrugged and hopped off, he turned to walk away but strong, warm hands grabbed him by his hips and pulled him back down. 

Connor gave a small yelp and made sure not to fall too heavily onto Reed's lap. "Ah! Thought you told me to fuck off." He glanced back at him, their faces closer than before. It was a really good thing Hank wasn't in here. 

"Haven't gotten my twenty dollars worth, and I might want to play with you a bit more. Said there were private rooms?" Gavin pulled Connor closer as he ground his dick up into Connor's ass. 

He let out a surprised whine and tilted his head back. 

'Shit, Con you ok?' Hank's message had him flushing a deeper blue. He had forgotten that the backup would be able to hear everything. 

'I'm fine, simply playing my role.' That whine hadn't been intentional in the least but it wasn't like he could take it back now.

He jolted back to the present when Gavin's hands slid from his wait to up his chest. "You didn't answer me." 

Connor nodded and circled his hips, trying to get back in control. "I was thinking about a friend of mine. You aren't nearly as distracting as you think you are. But yes, there are private rooms where we can do whatever you want." 

Gavin thankfully understood the message and nodded his head, pulling Connor close so he could whisper in his ear. "Sorry Anderson, you'll have your android later." 

Connor growled and glared at Gavin. He was still being a dick and Connor had made it explicitly clear he saw Hank more as a father figure than anything else. He reached down and pinched the inside of Gavin's thigh and felt beyond satisfied when he yelped and tightened his hold on Connor. 

"Bitch." 

"You deserved that. Now be good and buy us a room." He moved off of Gavin and cocked his hip, putting a hand on it. 

Gavin took a few deep breaths before standing and having to adjust his pants. Connor watched with a smirk but didn't say anything as Reed went to pay. 

Connor stood there, letting himself calm down. He was tempted to turn his own arousal reactions, but he wanted to see what would happen. 

He jumped when he felt two hands grope him, and his skin started to crawl. He could smell alcohol on the man's breath as he pushed against Connor's back. 

"You pretty, little thing. Could break you so easily and you'd beg for it, wouldn't ya?" The man asked and Connor tried to loosen up. He knew this would happen. He knew there was a chance more than just Gavin would show interest. He really had shown off far too much. 

"Ah! Well, I wouldn't mind all too much but I'm afraid I'm already paid for, but after? I'd love to see what you can do." He spun around and placed his hands on the man's chest. And he was fucking huge. Not in the fat way, but he was just huge and heavily muscled. He probably could break Connor in half and it made him shiver in fear. If he paid enough this man could do anything he wanted to Connor. 

The man hummed and looked him over. "You do look so good. A beautiful angel." 

Connor chuckled and ducked his head, fluttering his eyelashes. "Ah, are you a devil then? Are you going to tempt me to the other side?" Fuck he really hated how this man groped him but he didn't pull away. He needed to show that he was willing to do this with anyone.

"I can make you such a naughty boy." The man sneered and Connor had to do everything to not shrink back. 

But then he saw Gavin stalking over with death in his eyes. "Excuse me, but he's mine for the next hour." Gavin growled out. 

Connor flashed up a grateful smiling before slowly moving back, using a bit of extra force than needed. "Maybe I'll see you later… daddy." God, he was going to be sick. If he ever called another man that he did not know that, he'd self-destruct. 

Gavin grabbed him by his arm and yanked him close, easily moving them to the private rooms. 

There weren't any actual doors but instead floor to ceiling curtains. So they couldn't just sit there and wait, not that he had planned on that in the first place. 

He could hear two people going at it and the other room they were certainly close to it too. So they'd need to do the same thing. At least it didn't seem there would be cameras in the rooms, but a few security guards were waiting just in case.

Connor pushed him off and into the room, following after, sending a wink to a guard before closing the curtains. 

Connor turned back to Gavin and looked around the room. There were constable chairs but also a large couch. In the center of the room was a pole Connor could use if wanted. The lights were dimmed just enough and warm red lights hung on the walls. 

Gavin stood there, looking around as well, but Connor could tell he was nervous. They'd either actually have to do this or make it damn convincing. 

"So, what would you like?" Connor asked, not trying to be loud enough to hear but not soft enough to be suspicious. "I can do anything you want, I'll be good for you." He tried to sound desperate for money more than anything else. 

Gavin's eyebrows shot up but he looked around again before deciding to sit on the couch, letting his legs spread a bit. "Maybe dance a bit more, continue where we left off.." 

When Connor finally reaches him, his fingers threading through Gavin's hair send a wave of nervous vibrations down his spine. His other hand rests against Gavin's shoulder, bracing himself as he raises a knee and presses it between Gavin's spread thighs. The music lulls and fades away, and for a moment that feels like an eternity, they’re sitting still—the only sound booming in Connor's ears, their labored breathing, and Gavin's heartbeat thundering inside of his chest.

Gavin's hand twitched, almost reaching out before he remembered himself.

"You can touch." Connor whispered, grabbing one of Gavin's hands and placed it on his own ass. Gavin gave it a slight squeeze then a stronger one, fingers digging into the white latex with golden sparkles. Connor hummed and gently tugged on Gavin's hair, pulling his head to the side to get easy access to his neck. "Tell me to stop and I will." Connor mumbled before brushing his lips against Gavin's throat.

Gavin gasped and pulled Connor into his lap, down using both hands to hold Connor's ass. "Don't you dare fucking stop." 

'i hate this' Connor rolled his eyes at Hank's message but only felt somewhat guilty. 

'Sorry, plug your ears?' There was more than just Hank listening but honestly, he was the only one he truly cared about to not listen.

He tipped his head back to press hot kisses to Gavin's throat, painting a wet trail to his mouth. Gavin's fingers smooth up and down Connor's spine, then dip down to cup his ass and squeeze again. 

Connor was grinding his crotch to his, and Gavin bit his lip until it bled because it was all he could do to avoid coming in his pants. Connor smirked and pulled his lips away to look at the man fully. "Hm, want me to keep this up? I can do a whole lot more." 

Gavin moved his hands up off his ass and Connor huffed but made a pleased whine when the hands dipped under the shorts to grab at him again, fingers exploring. "God, this is not fair." Gavin mumbled but then leaned forward to bite and lick at Connor's neck. His back arched into it, hips grinding down again.

Gavin kept him close to him, bucking his hips up in time with Connor's. "Con," he groaned, head falling back. 

Connor was thrilled at the reactions he was getting, wanting so much more. His hand gripped Gavin's neck by his nape, fingers over the soft hairs at the base of his skull as he directed their lips to each other. The other hand gripped his waist firmly so he would stop moving, and grinding up into him. He could easily imagine that dick fucking into him as he sat on him. 

Or he could take him back out into the club and push him against the wall. Let everyone see as Connor would shove his hand down Gavin's pants and bring him to completion where everyone could see the effect he had on him. That he was affecting Gavin this much. 

"Fuck me." Connor demanded standing up to unzip Gavin's pants. "I don't need prep." 

Gavin's eyes were wide but he quickly shimmied out of his pants and underwear along with his shirt, tossing them to the side. Connor slid his shorts off, straddling over Gavin, making sure they were in the right before sinking down with a sigh of relief. 

He started to move his hips, unhurriedly, trying to make this last longer. Gavin moaned and grabbed his waist but Connor didn't stop. "Fuck yes! God, you fill me up so well." 

Gavin moaned again and tried to buck his hips up, but Connor glared at him. "Let me!"

"No, I'm in charge right now. I'm going to fuck myself on you and you're gonna sit there and be a good boy." He snapped and sank down again, his back arching beautifully. 

Gavin cursed under his breath but didn't fight it, his hands sliding back around to grab Connor's ass. "You're too damn pretty, fucking hell. The way you move should be illegal." 

Connor smirked and held himself up for a second longer just to tease before dropping back down with a whine. The friction felt so good and he took himself in hand, stroking lazily. "Hm, is that what you want? Want to cuff me for being naughty then fuck me over the table? I might just let you." 

Gavin's pupils were blown wide and he gaped for a second, and Connor let him knowing everything he was imagining. "Yes, god even then you'd still be a little shit." 

Connor huffed and leaned forward to bite a bit more harshly at Gavin's neck. The man whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut trying not to come. Connor licked over where the bruise would definitely form before tossing his head back, finally finding the right spot. 

"Yes! Ah, there, right there." He mumbled. It didn’t take long for his hips to snap down quickly, slapping sound filling the room, ragged breaths, and one hand on Gavin's chest for support. His legs shook gently, not from exhaustion but from want. 

Every time he thrust down Gavin would push up, aching to feel as much of him as he could. Connor leaned forward and kissed Gavin deeply, and Gavin kissed him back greedily. Their hot breath mingled together as they came in for another wet kiss, soft moans escaping both their mouths as their lips joined.

Before long, Connor broke away. “I’m gonna-- ahh shit! I’m gonna come, Gavin. Please don't stop.” 

“Look at me, I wanna see you when you come.” Gavin gave a firm squeeze to Connor's ass, fucking up into him, trying to get deeper with each thrust.

With a few more thrusts, Connor let out a loud unrestrained moan. His eyes were shut tight, and his mouth open and agape as he came over both their chests. Yet he kept bouncing, squeezing around Gavin. "Gavin! Fuck, come on. Come in me, I want you to fill me up. I want to be dripping." Connor growled and Gavin would only nod, yanking Connor completely down. 

His whole body shuttered with the force of it but Connor took it all with a soft whine. God if only he had a plug to keep it there the rest of the night. Then he'd go home and get to play with himself again, maybe even show Gavin what he looked like open and wanting on his bed. 

Connor sat there for a minute letting both of them calm somewhat. He could feel Gavin's heart pounding, arms just loosely holding onto Connor and pressing quick soft kisses over Connor's warm skin. 

"Our time is almost up." Connor murmured, eyes lidded as he looked down at him. This was probably all he'd get from Gavin even if he had fantasized about how to tear him about slowly. Yet he always felt ashamed and even guilty especially when he went in the next day and Gavin was there. It wasn't even their fights and arguments that sparked a flame in him, I mean sure those were nice too and made their own fantasies, but this was different.

"Shit." Gavin grumbled, letting his head rest against Connor's shoulder and closing his eyes. "Oh fuck everyone heard that." 

Connor hummed and checked over his connection which was still very much active yet no one had said a thing. "I don't think they minded, plus I told Hank to not listen." 

Speaking of, he'd need to inform the man that it was safe to put the headphones back on. Yet he wanted to have this conversation in a somewhat private sense so he'd wait just a bit longer.

"Fuck, uh thanks. God, that really happened. And you're really pushy and needy." Gavin chuckled and looked up. Connor huffed and crossed his arms but the fact that he hadn't gotten up really wasn't helping. "In a good way! Obviously, I liked it, but yeah. Maybe I can see more of you, see what sides of you I can bring out, later?" 

Connor knew an invitation when he heard one, and this was definitely it. Gavin wanted to see him again, like this. Not exactly like this, most likely more private, but he wanted more. Even if he hadn't been emotionally connected and interested, he'd be loathed to pass this up. Gavin was by far one of the best fucks he's had in a while. 

He wiggled his hips just slightly and Gavin hissed but Connor smirked. "I'd like that, but I will warn you, I'm insatiable. I don't have to wait very long to get going again, think you can keep up?" 

He knew humans would have close to impossible chances of truly keeping up, but as long as Gavin could pleasure him even when he needed a moment then that was fine. 

Gavin hissed again and tried to glare at Connor's smirking face. "Fuck you, I'll have you a complete mess and begging me to stop because it's too much." 

Connor raised an eyebrow and stood slightly only to drop back down. Gavin cursed and grabbed his hips, trying to keep him still. "I think the one begging will be you-" he leaned in close to whisper into his ear-"Detective." 

He stood completely up and off, looking around and finding a few towels and washcloths under the seat. Thank God the club came (heh) prepared. He grabbed a washcloth and started to clean himself up, wiggling his hips as he felt the come in him. He let his hand trail back and pushed a finger in before pulling it out and glancing over at Gavin. The man was staring at him wide-eyed as Connor popped the finger into his mouth.

He pulled it out and licked his lips before crouching in front of Gavin and licking up his own mess and Gavin's dick. Once he was done he patted Gavin dry and smirked once more at him. He was gripping the seat so hard his knuckles were white. "Maybe you'll get to see what my mouth can do later, but for now I want you to buy me." Connor slid on his tiny shorts and made sure everything was in place before strutting out of the room, not even bothering to close the curtains behind him.

Gavin was left gaping before he quickly pulled his clothes back on, trying not to meet the club's guard's eyes and he quickly walked out of the room. 

Thankfully the two managed to bring the whole thing down, and Connor did later show Gavin exactly how good he was with his mouth.

[soundofseventeen]

Take This To Heart (Choi Seungcheol)

In honor of our leader coming back soon, I thought I’d give you this. It is my favorite song by my favorite band (lmao, someone please ask why it means so much to me, i wanna overshare) and I wrote about my favorite boy no one tell Joshua. I’ll probably come back in the morning to finish everything I neglected last week.

Word count: 3184

Even in his daze, Seungcheol managed to get everything packed up and ready to go home early the next morning despite it being so late at night. The journey from Manila back to Korea had been nothing less than tiring and he had the strength to get home but his priorities laid with his bandmates. Ode To You was finally over and even though he missed most of it, he still felt tired, the physical ache still deep in his bones, and mental fatigue still looming in the backburner of his brain. The time off did him well, but he couldn’t help but help feel somewhat guilty for not being there where he was needed. 

Luckily, he had managed to convince you to let him finish this tour with them. As Seventeen’s general leader and oldest brother, Seungcheol felt the sense of duty of being there with them even if he wasn’t onstage and he was forever indebted to you for understanding. He wondered what would’ve happened to him if you told him to stay behind. And then he figured that his restlessness and remorse for missing out would’ve eventually led him back to them although that would’ve also meant more arguments and snide remarks and that wouldn’t have gone well with either of you. 

Everyone else was either fast asleep or getting there and he smiled, especially when his eyes found Jeonghan. No doubt, he was tired of being the leader even though he had been a spectacular one. Joshua too when Jeonghan stepped down for a month to take care of his own health. The title wasn’t an easy one to carry but he didn’t want anyone else to have that burden (even though it was also his pride), but now it was time to go back to being Seventeen and Carats’ leader. He rather would’ve missed a tour than a whole comeback and then some.

Seungcheol peeked through the hotel’s curtains, the streetlights and passing cars illuminating his face. Leaving you wasn’t easy either. Truth be told, he had almost fallen apart after they had left for OTY. You’d barely moved into your first house together and he suddenly felt like he was being ripped away from you. Well, the Asian leg of the tour was easy...until Mingyu spilled the beans that he had to go on hiatus. But it was in the past. 

“One more night,” he murmured to himself, not caring if one of them heard him. This time tomorrow, he’d be spinning you around the room while all the songs he’s ever dedicated to you sounded all over the place because every song would be yours. He just hoped you’d wait a little longer. He swore you’d make it. 

*

Actually, when Seungcheol announced that they were hitting the road to tour, you had been in your room folding the week long-neglected laundry in the basket. Tired as he was, he burst through the door, excited.

“Jagi, we’re doing it again!” He only felt a little bad when he saw you jump. “Ode to you is officially starting….soon. Jagi?”

“I can’t exactly jump for joy when I’m carrying all these clothes,” you joked.

“Oh right!” He took about half of the shirts already on their hangers to ease your load and helped you place them in the closet, all color coordinated and all facing the same direction.

“Okay, now that’s done, what’s this I hear about a tour?” You eyed him skeptically as he collapsed on your bed, his arm shielding him from the light and you swore he would’ve passed out from the exhaustion if you didn’t talk to him.

“Yeah, our boss just announced it today.” He now sounded casual as he mentioned it but you noticed the hint of frustration. “We leave in two weeks. We start in Asia, then we go to North America and, back to Asia and then we end it in Europe.”

“Can you handle that?” You asked as you sat at the foot of the bed. You removed his shoes slowly, opting to massage his feet. You decided to stay quiet when you could feel the throbbing through his socks, and just shook your head.

“Me? I’ll be fine. It’s the other boys I’m worried about. Beomju hyung and I just got Jihoon to go home finally if Soonyoung keeps at it with the choreos, he might have to sit out the first few shows to regain his energy. I think I should tell the big man who signs our checks to wait some more. We just got this place and-”

“Cheol, I’d rather you argue about going on tour so soon. You haven’t even dropped An Ode yet.”

“Jagi, come here.” He waited to open his eyes until he could feel you close to him. He rolled over to face you and reached for  your hand. “I know you don’t like a lot of this, and I don’t either but think of the Carats. That’s why we do this.”

“But you know they’d rather you stay here and take a break. And I don’t want you to leave either. I feel like we just got the hang of this.” Your eyes fluttered shut when he traced the details of your face. “This house already feels empty with you gone most of the time.”

“We’ll make it,” he assured you. “Just let me know you’ll be here while I am gone.”

*

“I’m coming home tonight, my love,” Seungcheol told you over the phone at the crack of dawn. Despite being back in Korea, it felt like you two were still worlds apart. He still couldn’t believe that his boss had decided for Seventeen to come back to Seoul by train then by boat and then by train again back to the home country in an attempt to reimburse the money lost in the European tour. They had stopped near the South Korean border at around three am because they just wanted to rest and the sea breeze just him wanna run to you. 

“Good,” he heard you sniffle. “I missed you so much. It’s been so hard without you.”

“I know, just wait a little longer. We’re now in the same country. I’m almost there.”

“Cheol, did you even sleep?”

“No,” he admitted after a while. “I’ve been up since yesterday. I just wanna get home already. I want to be with you and see you.”

“I need you to sleep. You’re in for a long day and by the time you get to the train station, you won’t be able to stand. Baby, I’ve missed you a lot and I’ve been worried that you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

“I will. Just let me come home first.” He once again cursed his boss for giving them the latest times to leave from everywhere. “Take this to heart. Nothing will keep me from seeing you tonight.”

*

“Do you guys have everything?” you asked the 13 sleepy boys. Half of them were glaring blearily at the Incheon Airport’s floors and the other half were falling asleep on their feet, but you nodded in satisfaction when they held up their passports. “Okay, let me know when you guys land or get to the airport or whatever. And please drink responsibly. If you wake me up because you want me to see who’ll fly first again, you will find me in front of your hotel room and it won’t be pretty.”

“You’re no fun,” Soonyoung whined. “SCoups hyung already looks after us. We don’t need another parent.”

“You’ve been warned.” You waited until each of them gave you a hug so you could leave. “Have fun guys. I miss you already.”

“Jagi wait. You didn’t kiss me yet.” Seungcheol puckered his lips, which left you no choice but to kiss him...so you did.

“I love you,” you told him quietly.

“Wait! I need 12 more.”

“Why?”

“One for luck at every show we play.”

“Did you really count that?”

“I did and I’m not boarding until you kiss me.”

“Stay safe,” you whispered once you complied with his request. He leaned his forehead to yours to try to keep the moment private.

“Stay strong. Will you be here for me while I’m gone?”

*

“Hyung,” Chan said, bringing Seungcheol out of his thoughts. “The whole world knows you’d rather be home right now, but rushing us out of the hotel won’t get us to Seoul faster. We have plenty of time to check out-”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned.

“I’m just saying that we will leave eventually, but for right now, come have lunch with us. Or at least sleep. You’ll kill time a little faster….”

In the background, he could hear Soonyoung and Minghao arguing over a phone charger and then Wonwoo piped in about having an extra one to use and that ended the little skirmish. Then the door closed and he wondered if Seungkwan went for more ice. He could taste the morning breath in his mouth and he made a face. He could see Junhui coming in the room and throwing his suitcase on the bed to pull something out. He could smell someone spraying their cologne. He could feel the towel he was currently wringing in his hands. His senses had been elevated and he knew Chan was still talking, still trying to relax a little, but he couldn’t hear him...or focus on him for that matter. Seungcheol knew he needed to keep his head a little longer. He could already feel you in his arms and promising to stay with you as long as he possibly could.

“Hyung?”

“Sounds great dude.” He ruffled the young boy’s hair.

“You’re okay with stopping at Pledis to let them know we got here safely?”

No, no he wasn’t. Once again, the duties of a leader kept him from being close to you. Scratch that, it wasn’t the leader role; it was him being the oldest sibling and ensuring everyone got home safely. He nodded. “Yeah.’

Chan thumped his forehead affectionately. “Liar. Let’s go get food.”

*

“Wait, what do you mean you guys are home right now?”

“Yeah, Hannie hyung needed to get rest too,” Mingyu informed you on the other side of the computer screen. “That’s two down and I’m pretty sure they sent us all home because if any more of us can’t perform in America and we’ll have to cancel it...wait, where are you right now?”

One thing you loved about Seungcheol was how he didn’t blab to them about your personal life. He knew you had to leave but it also sucked knowing now where he was. “I had to come visit my family for a little bit. With Cheol taking time off for anxiety, I couldn’t handle not being able to help him or you guys, so I had to run away.” You hated how easily your voice cracked for feeling weak. “I have to go see you guys. I need to go tell Seungcheol that he needs to stay there so he can rest up.” You already began looking at your surroundings, ready to throw all the stray clothes into your suitcase. You didn’t know where to start and you could feel the prickliness at your fingertips. “I need to go spend the holidays with you.” You shook your head a couple times to keep a clear head.

“Take a breather, dude before you have a panic attack.” He turned around quickly in case the boy in question decided to come into the room. “Hey, hey. He’s fine. They both are. Shua hyung is making sure they’re resting.”

It eased you a little. Joshua may not have been the frontman, but he still had the same responsibilities as the other two. You just hoped he didn’t fall apart at the seams too, not because Junhui would be in charge but because if anyone else went down, they’d have to cancel the whole thing...not that it’d be a bad idea but you preferred it to under different circumstances.

“You can’t change his mind, I hope you know that.”

“For what?”

“He’s already said he’s coming with us. He’ll just be behind the scenes.”

“And you’re okay with that?” You saw him take a deep breath but he didn’t answer. “Mingyu?”

“We need him. Going without him just wouldn’t feel right. Hannie hyung will be back by that time and he’ll be making the decisions.”

“Mingyu, this is Seungcheol’s health, not some fucking good luck charm you can’t be without.”’

“I know that. You think we didn’t try telling him that? If he wasn’t so stubborn, everyone would be telling him to get his ass on the next flight to you. I’m sorry.”

“Is he with you now? Okay what's he doing?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Let me talk to him. Please Mingyu. I need to see for myself he’s doing better.”

He debated for a moment and let out the longest, “Hyung!” you’ve ever heard, followed by various voices chiming in “What?” and a few other words. “I need SCoups hyung. He has a visitor.”

You don’t know why you lost all self control and started bawling when you saw Seungcheol but you couldn’t help it. You had so much you wanted to say but you couldn’t put it in words and you wanted to fling yourself into the screen and go straight into his arms so you could give him a hug and assure him he’d be okay and everything would work out but you couldn’t and that just made you cry more.

“Jagi, if you keep crying, I’m gonna start crying and then we’re gonna have a problem,” he said, trying to make a joke but you could see that he was on the edge of tears too.

“I can’t help it. You’re there and I’m here and we’re so faraway and you’re not onstage where you belong and I can’t stop you from going to North America with the boys so you can rest and everything just feels like it’s falling apart.” Oh what you wouldn’t give to feel him stroke your hair and tell you it’d be alright.

“At least you’re being honest,” he chuckled. “And now I need to kill Mingyu for worrying you over nothing. I’m being careful, my love. I already know you want me here when you come back, but I can’t.”

“I know,” you sobbed. “Your responsibility of being their leader and making sure they’re okay is too important to you.” You found a sweater which you used to wipe your eyes.

“If I wasn’t the leader, you know I’d be there with you, right?”

Even in your emotional state you managed to giggle a bit, and even momentarily forget the heartache at seeing each other like this. At seeing him staring back at you with confusion, your giggles turned into laughs and you were finally able to dry your eyes with no more tears following behind.

“Jagi, what’s so funny?” He frowned, his lips inadvertently forming into a pout and in that moment, you never loved another man more. 

“ Cheol, did you know you’ve never lied to me about something so important before now?” The way he looked so lost just made your heart beat a little faster and grow a little more, so you elaborated. “Nothing can come between you and those boys. Not your rest, not your tour, and especially not me.” Not that you’d ever want to, of course.

“Hey, that’s not true. I moved in with you, remember?” His frown deepened and his lips pursed more, still not understanding why you found this situation so hilarious. Granted, he loved seeing you happy, but he’d rather be in the loop.

“You only moved in with me because I didn’t wanna move into the dorms with you after an apartment in my building caught fire,” you pointed out.

“Stop exposing me,” he whined.

“Stop making me fall in love with you.”

“Never. Just wait a little bit longer. We’ll be together soon.”

*

Seungcheol bounced his leg impatiently, no doubt irritating Jihoon, but he couldn’t help it. Of all the bad luck in this world. He was so close and so tired and they’ve been waiting in the same spot for over an hour. He should’ve been there with you already, kissing your face over and over again and tracing every part of it to jog his memory. His phone bored him to the point where he didn’t bother to pick it up anymore. He stared out the window in hopes of finding a clue that the train would move again soon.

Jihoon placed his hand over Seungcheol’s knee, stopping him. “Hyung, please stop doing that. You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m sorry...I just need to get home already. And if we could get moving already, that’d be great. We should’ve been there if we didn’t stop here.”

“Listen, I get that, and I respect that, but please don’t let those puppies that got rescued hear that,” Jeonghan chimed in, still half asleep. “We could’ve hurt them.”

“I’m sorry puppies,” Seungcheol mumbled. He didn’t know how much longer they waited, but by the time they got moving again, the stars were out and he saw many people in their cars waiting on either side of the tracks to get home as the day drew to a close. And when the city started looking familiar, Seungcheol sat up ramrod straight and almost knocked Jihoon out of his seat once he knew exactly where they were. He pulled out his duffel bag, accidentally hitting Seokmin in the arm and that caused Seokmin to smack Joshua awake. He was by the doors even before the conductor announced this was the final stop and rushed the other boys to hurry up because he didn’t wanna wait on them. They just had to clear everything with Pledis and then he could go home and finally be with you. He couldn’t wait. 

Once the doors opened, Hansol made sure to grab Seungcheol by the shirt collar in an attempt to keep everyone together. Getting recognized would’ve only slowed them down more and Seungcheol knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. You were so close. 

And it finally seemed that the universe aligned something for him because once he stepped foot outside of the train station, he looked at his surroundings, the smell of food vaguely reminding him that he needed to eat. The chatter was loud from every direction as the crowds passed him and them, paying them no mind. He could taste the M&Ms that Jihoon had been kind enough to share and that made him focus a little more, but then he saw you, and he gripped the carry-on.

You didn’t know he was there; you didn’t see him, he realized. He focused on the bag in your hands, recognizing the logo of his favorite fast food restaurant and his heart did the thing. His brain finally disconnected from everything as he dropped the carry-on.

And he ran towards you.

[dippedanddripped]

The latest partnership to hit the trade-show floor is the CALA Men’s Trend Show, a project announced by founder Ken Haruta of the West Coast Trend Show and founder Gerry Murtagh of CALA. Blending Haruta’s deep roots in men’s events with Murtagh’s expertise in delivering a buyer-and-exhibitor-focused atmosphere, the duo are developing a destination for serious business at an affordable rate. The event will run Aug. 15–17 at the Marriott Hotel and Spa inNewport Beach, Calif., a property that provides a safe, alluring atmosphere for visitors.

“My goal is to have an affordable show for designers and for reps so they can actually make a profit by coming to our show,” Haruta said. “That is the main focus for me. The key point is a return on investment. I want the retailer to be comfortable in an open-booth environment.”

After 14 years producing the West Coast Trend Show, a hotel-suite-style event hosted at the Embassy Suites near Los Angeles International Airport, Haruta has built a network of power players in the industry. These connections have afforded a list of venerable brands that are now CALA Men’s Trend Show sponsors including 34 Heritage, Robert Graham, True Grit and Saxx. Additional brands on the robust roster, which can be found at calatrend.net, include Bowie & Co., Bugatchi, Grayers, Hansen, Haupt, Hudson, Joe’s, Johnston & Mur­phy, Lauren by Ralph Lauren, Liverpool Los Angeles, Mavi, M. Singer, Patrick Assaraf, Paige, Privé, Robert Barakett, Sperry, Toes on the Nose, Tommy Hilfiger and Trinidad3.

“It was all because of Michael Kofoed, who is a partner at True Grit,” Haruta said. “He has been asking me for the last year and a half, ‘Why don’t you partner up with Gerry to do a better show?’ It’s been the perfect marriage between the two of us. He gives me my space, I give him his space, and we do our jobs. I know what he is good to do and I know what I can do.”

Traditionally a show producer for women’s contemporary apparel and accessories, Murtagh is gaining fresh experience joining Haruta in producing a men’s show. CALA has experienced immense growth in the last months with the brand’s productions in Salt Lake City; Scottsdale, Ariz.; and Seattle. After expanding into new cities, Murtagh is ready to expand into the men’s category with his event formula, which caters to the needs of buyers and exhibitors to ensure everyone can get down to business in an inviting atmosphere.

“We’re bringing shows to buyers’ backyards, and they are appreciating it,” Murtagh said. “The Scottsdale show was phenomenal, and the buyers can’t thank us enough. We had a show at the Hotel Valley Ho resort. Having a show at the resort creates this great energy. It puts everybody in a good mood. We were sold out in three days.”

In addition to blending CALA’s attentive, intimate atmosphere with West Coast Trend Shows’ legacy, Haruta and Murtagh will provide amenities to create a more comfortable and enjoyable business atmosphere. For exhibitors, the show will provide breakfast and lunch. Retailers who are staying at the Marriott will receive a $75-per-night reimbursement, good for up to a two-day stay. One of the most-exciting amenities is a launch-night cocktail reception that will be hosted on Aug. 15 at Gary’s, the John Braeger–owned fine-goods men’s retailer located at Fashion Island in Newport Beach.

“We’re having a great cocktail party at Gary’s. They are a wonderful store,” Haruta said. “Those are the types of relationships you build over time. It doesn’t happen overnight.”

While business is the priority for the CALA Men’s Trend Show, Haruta and Murtagh wanted to also choose a location that would allow guests and exhibitors to enjoy their surroundings.

“We’re putting a show on in the middle of August, when kids are out of school,” Murtagh said. “It’s close to the water. Someone could couple a business trip with a family vacation.”

This new CALA Men’s Trend Show is already serving as a point of momentum for the producers. Following the show, Murtagh will host his branded women’s show Aug. 18–20 at the Marriott in Newport Beach. There are also plans to build the CALA Men’s Trend Show into a biannual event, with discussions focused on February 2022. The pair could also eventually combine the men’s and women’s categories for a show that affords greater opportunities.

“People are waiting for an open-booth show to open up, and ours is the perfect vehicle,” Haruta said. “It is in a nice city. If people want to take an extra day off, they can do it. We’re attracting all the good brands. It’s all set up to be a success.”

[mochibuni]

HI, I’M PINK AGAIN.

General life update under the cut, nothing that exciting, but about health and finances, family politics, blah blah so if you want to skip that~

I’ve felt weird talking about a lot of things going on with me, and I chalk a lot of it up to imposter syndrome and also wanting to be mindful of how much this year has really sucked for everyone, but especially how much it’s sucked for people financially.

We bought a new house over the summer and moved, and closed on selling our condo last week. I acknowledged that we were privileged enough to be able to afford two mortgages and tried to keep quiet about it. Mentally it was just another stressor that fucked with me a bit and I’m just glad it’s over now. I celebrated by finally getting my hair redone.

Work is an utter disaster and the only silver lining is legal decided that even though my symptoms aren’t COVID related, but because they’re shared with COVID symptoms I’m forbidden from the office indefinitely. I was pissed I had to go back into the office at all, but it did make doing the work easier, especially because they are refusing to hire more people, but now my one coworker is left doing all the office work alone while I take care of all the digital work. I feel guilty about this and I know it’s not my fault, but in a way I’m also glad I feel bad instead of apathetic as I was slipping into apathy a month ago from how stressed I’ve been.

Healthwise I still suck and my care team still isn’t sure what exactly is causing my respiratory issues. There is a few procedures on the table, but I’ve left them for now to try out medication alternatives as the procedures are irreversible. But hey I still don’t have COVID!

Artwise my productivity took a sharp nose dive when I was forced back into the office. I’m hoping that wasn’t noticeable, I’m sorry if it was. It’s been really frustrating and honestly emotional for me to not have the energy to create. Aside from apathy I’ve felt non-existent. I took a week vacation last week to catch up on my projects and I feel really good today, I hope that continues. I’m really looking forward to fixing up our new house and unpacking our displays. The movers broke some of our furniture and while they reimbursed us, we were playing it safe with our finances and decided to wait until we sold the condo before making purchases that weren’t necessary for living. I can’t wait to show you guys how stupid nerdy our house is going to be!

Finally I am just soooo thankful we’re looking at a Biden presidency. I cried out of relief, I’ve felt much lighter ever since I read the news of his projected win. Funny enough some of my conservative family is trying to pick fights with me insisting it’s about politics, but they’ve become very personal with their insults and it’s been an interesting ride finding out what they’ve truly thought about me (erasing that I’m Korean and judging me for being childless). But you know what? Biden winning still has me so happy and hopeful that I don’t give a fuck about them. Fuck those kinds of people, none of us need them in our lives! We still have so much to fight for. but I hope we’re all able to rest a little easier and use that energy to fight even harder.

[maryellencarter]

So for about ten days now I've been playing around with the budgeting app Mint (along with a Google Sheets yearly budget template and a lot of manual work with a calculator, a calendar, and a succession of blank Google Docs because that's just the kind of person I am), and so obviously I have some Thoughts.

* I picked Mint because it's the budgeting app all the financial reviewers talk about, because it's run by Intuit who also own TurboTax so I knew their security and interface would be good, and because it does not come with built-in shaming over any of your ~unnecessary~ purchases.

* Mint is a free app which makes its money by offering you sponsored ads for financial products it thinks you might like, and getting paid by the advertisers when you accept one of the ads. The most intrusive location for these ads is on your dashboard, feed, whatever you want to call it, where the ad tile is required to be the third tile down and cannot be shuffled to the bottom or turned off.

* (There is also a desktop browser version, Mint.com. I have poked it very slightly but couldn't get it to do anything useful. More on that later. I don't remember noticing how the ads are arranged there.)

* The app's general design is very sleek and intuitive, what I'd expect from the parent company of QuickBooks and TurboTax. Other than the intrusive ad tile, it lets you rearrange everything however you want.

* Mint is designed around importing transactions from your bank account for you to do budgetary stuff at, so obviously security is really important, which gives Intuit an edge up on the competition because I'm already used to trusting them with my tax returns. It only seems to sync new transactions during banking hours, which for someone like me who does most of their shopping on Sunday is kind of frustrating. It also won't let you edit or recategorize a transaction till it's finished "processing" a day or two down the line. I don't know if these pitfalls are common to all budget apps but it would probably make sense if they are.

* One thing Mint does that's incredibly handy for me is it lets you put all your recurring bills in one place and even sync them with your phone calendar. I actually had to turn off the phone calendar sync because it was alerting me constantly on the day before payday when I couldn't do anything about the bill that was due on payday, but if you can find the setting to change the alert frequency it might be useful. And having a nice chronological list of what the fuck is due when, is extremely helpful to my brain, because previously I was trying to remember everything in my head and I kept losing bills.

* Going down my tiles as I have them sorted in the app, I don't have much to say about that list of transactions itself, except that you can recategorize them and split them into different categories -- which is handy if the rent included $105 late fees which you don't want befuckening your future averages, or if you bought groceries and also a barbecue lighter at Walmart, to take two recent examples.

* You cannot, unfortunately, rename or edit categories. On desktop only, you can supposedly add categories, but you cannot then use those categories in any of Mint's other functions, which really defeats the purpose. And their ideas of what categories you might need are pretty... idiosyncratic, not to say WASPy, so e.g. I'm currently categorizing Patreon income under "Reimbursement" because the other options were things like "Investment Income" and "Returned Purchase". And transfers to my savings account can either be "Credit Card Payment" or "Transfer for Cash Spending".

* (I suppose I could put my savings under "Investment: Deposit" or something similarly grandiose, but that seems like... a lot for the 31 cents rounded up from getting a pizza at Little Caesars.)

* Anyways. So then, after the obligatory ad tile, comes a nice colorful pie chart of my spending for the month, which I can open up and tab through to look at all the categories. I saw one finance blogger saying you should use the Miscellaneous category for some things rather than getting too granular, but I like seeing the little individual entries for my haircut and my cloth mask and my pharmacy copay. (That last one's going to be a more substantial pie slice now that I can actually afford to start taking most of my meds again. Turns out my prescription for diabetic test strips expired, though, so I have to get ahold of my doctor and get a new one sent over, and I'm looking skeptically at the copays. :P I've been ignoring my diabetes since January, it can wait a little longer till I'm financially caught up from COVID.)

* I can see list-style breakdowns by category and merchant, too. This is one of the few places in the mobile app that my income shows up, other than the actual paycheck transactions. The desktop version has some more places to budget projected income, but the handling is clunky as hell.

* Next up is the tile where I've been spending a lot of my time, Budgets. This is your basic "envelope method" where you create, say, a budget for haircuts and another one for groceries. Each budget has to be for one of Mint's pre-created categories, and when you have a spending transaction in that category, it puts the expense against that Budget. The desktop version has you also creating a line item for expected income in Budgets, and then becoming stroppy when you attempt to adjust parts in the wrong order, so I prefer the app which simply tells you e.g. that you have spent $900 of an allocated $1000 with an airy unconcern for whether the $1000 has arrived in your bank account yet.

* My single biggest frustration with Mint is that you cannot create Budgets based on user-created categories, nor can you delete, rename, or even collapse categories in the list. So if I go to create a new Budget for, say, "Housewares" to account for the $1 barbecue lighter I finally bought (I have large hands and a tall jar candle that has burned down farther than I can reach, okay, it was a necessity), then I'm stuck scrolling all the way up and down past "Investment: Capital Gains" and "Kids: Child Support" before finally settling on "Home Supplies" because it doesn't really seem like a "Home Furnishings".

* After Budgets comes Accounts, which just shows me my current net worth across all my accounts. I actually unlinked my savings account because it was confusing the hell out of me to see a 31-cent transfer out of checking paired with the same 31-cent transfer into savings, so this doesn't show me anything I can't get through my bank app, but if I had current credit card debt or non-retirement investment accounts it might be more useful.

* (I have not linked my 401(k) to Mint. I haven't even figured out how to get into my 401(k), either before or after it transferred to a different handler a couple months back. I feel like those are problems for a later time than "okay how much groceries can I buy and still pay the rent".)

* On the desktop version of Mint, you can also put things like your car in under your net worth as Property. I tried that, found that I both did not believe their Kelly Blue Book valuation at all (it didn't have any option to take into account "was totaled two years ago and looks it but still mostly runs") and that I find it extremely stressful to have non-liquid property listed as part of my net worth. Interesting to know. You learn all sorts of shit about yourself when you try to manage money.

* Next there's a tile that attempts to break down my "cash flow" by month. It doesn't seem to have noticed the Paypal transfers on which I was largely subsisting for the three months it was able to pull from my bank account, even though they show up fine in Transactions, so it's deeply confused about whether my cash flow is Healthy or Unhealthy. For now, with my acquisition of a second paycheck for August, it seems to have settled on Healthy. I might turn that tile off though. It doesn't really... offer much, I guess?

* I have turned off the tile that shows me my free credit score. That's a problem for a much later me. Right now I have more urgent problems, like catching up on my deferred car insurance and my deferred cell phone bill and my deferred healthcare deductions.

* You also can't turn off the tile for the Mint "Life Blog" or the one asking you to rate the app, but at least they sit at the bottom of the app as you scroll down.

* The desktop version also has an entire segment not found in the app, for "Goals", where you can supposedly put in your outstanding debts and figure out payment schedules for them. It sounds really good in principle, but I found that section of the site unworkably glitchy, on both laptop and iPad; I couldn't even get past the screen where you try to first enter one of your debts, as it required me to choose answers from two dropdowns neither of which would actually do anything. I was able to get an estimate from the "saving for a rainy day" goal, anyway, by putting in the amount of a debt and telling it I'd like to save up that much money in a year, but that's nothing I couldn't have done with a calculator and a bit of mental effort.

* Jumping back up to the top of the app, one other thing that does intermittently drive me bananas about the app is, when you put in a bill you get a dropdown where you select how often it should recur, but then it... doesn't recur. You have to manually put in the next occurrence. It's still a handy list of upcoming bills, but I actually had to resort to my phone calendar (which properly handles recurring events) to get a good visual on future months' bills.

* And because there is nowhere to put in your projected income and get a nice projection of "On X date you will have $XX in your bank account", or even better a daily graph of your expected cash flow so that you can see "yeah don't put that $300 in savings you'll need it for rent in two weeks", I've been reduced to, as mentioned above, manual daily projections through the end of the year using my phone calculator, phone calendar, Google Docs, and eventually my damn iPad drawing app (came with a Bluetooth stylus I never got working) because I couldn't find any physical graph paper.

* So. Um. Summary. I guess it's a good app? It's very sleek, it has nice charts and graphs and a good interface. But it thinks you can do a lot more with it than you can actually do. Its main uses for me are probably going to boil down to "stop forgetting bills" (the rolling list format works a lot better for my brain than the phone calendar format, even if I do have to re-enter data every time I mark a bill paid) and "finally figure out how much I spend on food really".