#by previous post I mean one I made less than 24 hours ago

[purrassicjet]

Sandra Lynn: From now on, we'll be using code names. You can address me as "Eagle One". Sandra Lynn: Gorthalax, codename: "Been there, done that." Sandra Lynn: Jawbone is "Currently doing that" Sandra Lynn: Hallariel, "It happened once in a dream" Sandra Lynn: Sklonda, codename: "If I had to pick another parent" Sandra Lynn: Gilear is "Eagle Two" Gilear: Oh thank god

[trustmypoison]

Ah! Love - Act One

Yoon Jeonghan isn’t told ‘no’ often - or ever, really. So, when his friends set him up to get turned down, his ego is shattered. But his friends didn’t realize they just introduced him to his new partner in crime. 

You can find the Ah! Love masterlist here.

Playlist: Ah! Love by Seventeen; Can’t Get You by Jaehyun; Bonnie & Clyde by Yuqi 

Word count: 13k

Parts of this story will contain explicit content that's not suitable for minors, so MDNI.

This is a repost of a previous fic I did. It was one of the first fics that I ever posted on here and I wish I had made some different choices aesthetically. The content will be the same, it will just be a little prettier and more readable.

It’s nearly 1am when Y/N parks her car. She should have been home a while ago, but thanks to someone calling in, she was asked to work a few extra hours today. Not like it was hard, but there’s only so much to do at the reference desk at the campus library on a Friday night. The semester hasn’t even started yet, but the stupid university policy said that the library had to be staffed 24/7 except for holidays.

She was just thankful that one of her coworkers had the good sense to hide a phone charger in the bottom of a desk drawer. It had come in handy tonight when she’d finished her book. The university library had a less than impressive fiction collection to pick from. 

But now, Y/N was irritated again because her designated parking spot at her apartment complex was taken. In fact, every single spot was taken. Someone must have been hosting a party to celebrate before the start of the semester. This complex was mostly occupied by students, but damn, didn’t they know how to read signs, such as RESERVED? So she was parked on the street half a block away.

Y/N yanked the key out of the ignition and had her hand on the door handle when a loud laugh made her jump back. A group of guys were walking down the sidewalk towards her and they’d clearly been drinking. Not interested in facing them (whether out of self-preservation or to spare them her mood), she sat back in her seat, biting her nail and waiting patiently (read: Not Patiently At All). They seemed to be taking their sweet time. As they walk under street lights, she thinks she might recognize one or two of them from campus over the years, but that doesn’t mean much. The university has a huge student body.

One of them stops, a muffled, “Hold on,” coming through the car window. He steps towards the front passenger side of her car. His hands go to his pants. He’s - 

He’s peeing on her car. 

Her jaw drops. A car passes by and in the headlights she can see who it is. She unfortunately knows him - or knows of him, anyway. It’s Yoon Jeonghan. 

Her jaw is now tight, gritting teeth together painfully. Before she can think, her hand is on the center of the steering wheel, pressing sharply. The horn blasts for a split second and the only thing that makes this situation any better is the panic that flashes across his face. He jumps back, zipping himself up, waving and shouting a quick “Sorry!” Then he’s off, practically sprinting. His friends follow, but between the drinks and the laughter, they’re sluggish.

Y/N waits until they’re around the corner before she gets out of her car.

The next morning, Y/N finds Vernon at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal. He doesn’t look up from the game on his phone when she walks in and goes straight for the coffee. “Didn’t hear you come in last night.”

Y/N grunted as she slid into a seat across from him. He pushed her a bowl and spoon, along with a box of sugary cereal. “Yeah, I didn’t get back until 1. Had to park on the street.” Vernon hums, but she’s not sure he’s really listening or cares. “By the way, do you know if the complex has a water hose or something near the parking lot?”

Now he’s listening, though he still doesn’t look up. His eyebrows are scrunched. “Water hose? I don’t know. Why? Why not go through a car wash? There’s one around the corner.”

“I don’t need a whole car wash for my piece of shit car. Just enough to wash the urine off of my tire.”

Vernon bites back a laugh. “Someone pissed on your car?” He’s obviously amused. 

“Yoon Jeonghan did.”

Now his laughter resembles the squeak of a windshield wiper. This was nothing new - Vernon finding Y/N’s bad luck hilarious. Normally, she’d let it go because he had a laugh that made her laugh. She did not find it funny right now. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she mumbled, stuffing some cereal in her mouth to bite back any further comments.

Vernon wiped his eyes. “How do you even know it was him?”

“Because I was in the car when it happened.” Another bite of cereal for Y/N and another wheeze from Vernon. For the rest of the morning, Vernon would glance at her before falling into another fit of laughter. Y/N opted to escape by going back to bed. 

Jeonghan joins his friends in the student union at lunch on Monday. Classes started this morning but he’s not stressing it so far. After all, he’s only had one class and it’s already 1pm. Tomorrow might be another story based on his class schedule, but he’ll worry about that… tomorrow.

Across from him, Mingyu is talking about the girl he hooked up with on Friday night. Jeonghan’s not really listening because he’s too busy scarfing down his third slice of pizza. 

Seungcheol tells the story of his hookup on Saturday night. It becomes a competition between Seungcheol and Mingyu and they keep glancing at Jeonghan as he stuffs his face with more pizza, challenging him to jump in. He usually would, but he’s not terribly interested today.

Besides, they all know he didn’t go home after the party on Friday. He walked with them back to campus and ended up in the dorm room of one of the many girls he kept in rotation. All it took was one text and five minutes later she was signing him in at the front desk of her dorm as a guest. He signed himself out at the front desk afterwards because it was clear she wasn’t up to moving anytime soon. Between that and how satisfied she looked, he was pretty happy with the night as he walked back home. He doesn’t feel the need to brag anymore. His reputation precedes him. 

When it becomes apparent that Jeonghan isn’t taking the bait, they turn on Joshua. “How’s your girlfriend?” The word ‘girlfriend’ comes out as more of a sneer when Mingyu says it. Out of the whole group, Joshua seems to be the only one that believes in the concept, or at least puts it to any genuine practice.

Joshua met her while shadowing at the hospital a few years ago when he was still trying to pick a major. His crush was massive and they all teased him relentlessly about it. But after seeing how lovesick their friend was, they actually encouraged him to ask her out. They knew Joshua wasn’t a huge fan of anything casual. He’d rarely hooked up before meeting his current girlfriend anyway. Jeonghan is happy for him, he really is, but he’s still very perplexed at the dopey smile that overtakes his friend’s face at the mere mention of her. 

“She’s good. We volunteered at the animal shelter on Saturday and then went out to dinner.” He says this with such an innocent grin that some scoff or roll their eyes. Jeonghan just smiles and shakes his head. They should know by now that Joshua is just that kind of person. Even if he wasn’t, all this girl would have to do is ask because he’s totally wrapped around her finger. Again, very perplexing. Jeonghan couldn’t imagine what that was like.

Jihoon is not one of those people that scoffs at Joshua though. He shakes his head disappointedly at the others and then looks at Joshua directly. “They’re just jealous. They wouldn’t know how to even get into a relationship, much less hold one down as long as you have.”

Joshua seems totally unfazed with his stupid smile, but Seungcheol barks out a laugh. “It can’t be that hard. Mingyu and I both have had long-term things.” He pointedly ignores Jihoon's correction - a not-so-subtle mumble of ‘situationship’ disguised under a cough. Dating was a very loose term for them, never that serious and really just for a predictable amount of sex in the end. When they got their fill, it was over at the snap of a finger. “Besides, it’s Jeonghan that couldn’t do it at all.”

Jeonghan chuckles, “What makes you think that?”

The silence is deafening for only a moment before his friends start giggling. Mingyu bangs his fist on the table. Seungcheol is shaking his head in disbelief. Jihoon is sliding down in his chair and covering his face. Even Joshua is smiling like he’s trying to contain a laugh. 

Which is not a good time for Chan, the poor unsuspecting freshman that they’ve taken under their wing, to slide into a seat at the table. He looks like he’s afraid to ask. When he makes eye contact with Jeonghan, he’s really afraid to ask. 

Jeonghan scoffs. “I don’t know what’s so funny. I could date anytime I want. I just don’t want to,” he yells near the end to be heard over his friends.

Seungcheol’s still shaking his head, but this time it has a purpose. “No, I’m sorry, man. I haven’t seen you so much as go on a single date since high school. Everybody knows your pattern. You sweet talk some poor girl at a party to get her home and then as soon as it’s over, you say ‘This was nice, but I’m not interested in anything more’.” 

The words sting because it’s accurate, right down to the phrasing Jeonghan usually uses. Seungcheol must have heard some of these awkward morning-after conversations before at their apartment. Jeonghan is used to Seungcheol cheering him on in his pursuits. It felt like a skill then, one that he was very good at. A little locker room talk is normal, right? It’s another thing entirely for his best friend of nearly 15 years to turn it all around and say he can’t do the opposite. That his skills are a hindrance to it. That he’s just not capable of it.

Joshua must have sensed his friend’s discomfort because he tries to smooth it over. “Han, all he’s trying to say is that you’ve never even expressed interest in pursuing someone seriously and you shoot down anyone that approaches you for more than sex. When you do want to date, there might be a bit of a learning curve. That’s all.”

Jeonghan doesn’t know how to respond because he’s totally floored by the whole situation. Since when did not wanting anything serious become a problem? Jeonghan likes having fun. He likes having something new often. When did they stop understanding that?

The minutes tick by slowly, especially when his friends are still talking about it long after Chan has finished his lunch. They’ve emptied their trays and left the student union and they’re still talking about it. They’re half-way across campus and they’re still talking about it. Details about how shameless he’s been, how brutal he’s been about his rejections, how he’s won so many bets and completed so many dares over the last few years. His record is starting to sound like a bad thing when they were high-fiving him about it a week ago.

Mingyu turns around, walking backwards so he can face Jeonghan with a taunting smile. “I can’t believe you think you can do it.”

“I can,” Jeonghan says, now completely bitter because it doesn’t come off as confidently as he would have liked. It’s not like him to accept that he can’t do something. He likes pushing limits. He likes to toe the line. Mingyu’s face right now makes him want to jump clean across the line just to prove him wrong. The words spill out. “I can prove it.” 

This gets all of his friends attention. Seungcheol’s smirk is so fucking irritating when he says, “And how are you going to do that?” 

Jeonghan’s jaw clenches. He’s burned a lot of bridges as he’s formed this reputation. There are a lot of women that hate him - have yelled at him, slapped him, bad mouthed him, or just plain sobbed in front of him. Besides the last one, that was usually pretty amusing. There are also a lot of men that hate him too, likely because he’s ghosted their friend or sister. That’s a little less amusing when he has to dodge a fight. He’s not a coward when it comes to a fight, but he feels like there’s nothing to defend because he’s done nothing wrong. He’s never promised anyone a date and it’s not his fault when someone assumes that he will. But now he’s very determined to prove that he can do anything he wants with anyone at anytime because they’ll happily let him. That includes dating. “Pick anyone. I’ll make it happen.”

His friends raise their eyebrows as they look at him. They’ve now stopped in the quad and stepped off the path into the grass. Jeonghan grows impatient with their stares. He waves his hand around the quad. “Pick.” 

Mingyu and Seungcheol are the only ones that start looking around with any sort of seriousness. They must find something that makes them happy because they look at each other and smirk. When they turn to Jeonghan, their expressions make his stomach turn, but he’s determined not to show it. 

Mingyu points across the quad to a figure. Their target is a girl he’s seen in some of his English classes before but her name escapes him. All he knows is that she’s is a major bookworm, usually having stacks of books on her desk that aren’t even for a class. The only reason he’s noticed it is because he’s heard others laugh and whisper about it - which he found ironic because they were all English majors. You shouldn't pick that major if you hate to read. A errant frisbee flies within five feet of her and she doesn’t flinch. He’s never talked to her. 

“Let’s start by getting her to agree to go out with you first.” Mingyu’s clearly enjoying this and Jeonghan’s fists clench in his pockets to resist hitting him. 

“And what do I get out of this?” It won’t be a girlfriend, at least not in anyway that matters. He does want something besides his pride back though.

“$100 if you can get her to agree to go on a date with you. Another $100 if you can get her to agree to be your girlfriend. Another $100 if you can make that last three months.” Seungcheol states the terms, looking rather smug about it. He expects Jeonghan to back down. The whole concept of dating is absolutely not his style and $300 doesn’t seem worth the trouble. Seungcheol’s probably giving a lowball offer on purpose. But Jeonghan is desperate to retain some pride and composure. 

Jeonghan’s feet are moving before he even realizes it. He slaps Seungcheol on the shoulder for good measure as he passes. 

Y/N is quite literally a page away from finishing her chapter when a shadow casts over her. She glances up and suppresses a groan. “Can I sit here?” She slides over to the edge of the bench and tries to refocus on her book and remain unaffected. However, her mind has alarm bells are going off.

Why the fuck is Yoon Jeonghan sitting next to her?

She prayed he didn’t recognize her from Friday night. She did not want to have that conversation - or any really - with him. But she could not think of a single other reason why he would be here right now. 

“You look familiar. Have we had classes together before?” 

She glances up, if only for a brief moment to make her answer convincing. “Maybe.” She knows she’s had classes with him. He doesn’t need the ego boost by knowing she’s paid any attention to him though. He gets enough of that from everyone else.

He sticks out his hand. “I’m Jeonghan. I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself in any of those classes before.”

Y/N stares for a second, internally cursing the manners that are ingrained in her. She’s going to have to shake his hand, if only to remain polite for now. She mutters her name, reaching out to his hand. His hand dwarves hers, long fingers wrapping around her hand, but his touch is soft and warm. It surprises her only momentarily before she’s remembering all the reasons why she wants to avoid him. She’s relieved to have her book clutched in both hands again to ground her. She will not be falling for his charms today, or ever.

“I’ll get straight to the point, since I interrupted you. Would you like to go on a date with me?” He says gently, but there’s the usual amount of arrogance in his expression. Like he knows what she’s going to say. Y/N bets he usually gets the answer he wants. Y/N presses her lips together, feeling uncomfortable for so many reasons.

“Oh. That’s nice of you, but no thank you.”

Jeonghan blinks a few times, then his eyebrows furrow. “Uh. What?”

Y/N closes her book and stares at him. Why now? They’ve shared classes for three years now. Their schedules have aligned an irritating number of times and he’s never so much as glanced her way. Not that she would have ever fallen for this, even as a naive freshman three years ago. “I said, no thank you. I’m not interested.”

“Not interested?” He says this slowly, like the words don't make sense to him. Maybe they don’t. Word on campus is that he doesn’t hear them often. Or perhaps ever from the expression on his face. But there’s a first for everything, right? This must be one for him. “Can I ask why?”

There’s a loud cackle across the quad and it gets both of their attentions. It’s the guys that were with Jeonghan on Friday night. They seem to be enjoying whatever show Jeonghan is putting on for them. 

Ah, okay. That tracks. Y/N scoffs, standing to put her book in her bag. “Do I need a reason? Besides, I’m sure there are many others that will fall for the dare or bet that they’ve put you up to.”

Jeonghan kind of looks like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing a few times. He’s glancing fast between her and his friends. “What? That’s not…” 

“Sure seems that way,” she cuts off, trying to keep her voice even, but it’s challenging. “And you’d have to make me a pretty damn good offer to agree. You should tell them to be more subtle if you really want to use this tactic on some poor unsuspecting victim.” Y/N isn’t sure why she isn’t walking away right now.

Jeonghan is standing now, but he looks totally out of his element, none of his normal confidence and arrogance present. It actually makes her want to smirk, but even she feels a little bad about how loudly his friends are laughing across the quad. Second-hand embarrassment is a very real thing and she was starting to experience it. “Have I done something to you?” It sounds a little defensive.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him. “It says something if you have to ask that, Jeonghan. But no, you have not. I’m really just not interested. I have to get to class. Have a good day.”

She passes by the group of guys and doesn’t make eye contact. Kim Mingyu is there and this really does seem just like the kind of thing he’d be involved in. She almost feels sorry for Jeonghan again, but then she remembers the arrogant smirk he usually wears and the way he was confused by the word ‘no’. Almost sorry, but not quite. He could stand to be taken down a peg every now and then and Y/N was happy to be the one to do it today.

Jeonghan didn’t wait around to find out just how funny his friends found whatever the fuck just happened. Getting turned down was something he wasn’t used to and his friends’ laughter across the quad just rubbed salt in the wound. He’d also pointedly ignored the group chat for the rest of the day. Even Joshua was being iced out. When Joshua sent Jeonghan a message apologizing outside of the group chat, Jeonghan just gave it a thumbs up and nothing else. 

However, by the afternoon he realized he needed to save some face. Y/N may have said no, but many others would say yes. And despite his shock, he had heard what she said back in the quad. His friends would be a detriment to whatever plan he tried because they couldn’t hide their amusement. He sent a single text when he got home and a girl arrived at the apartment he and Seungcheol shared a little after 8pm. When he let her in, he passed by all of his friends in the living room, drinking beer and playing video games. Perfect. Uninvolved in the plan, but present for the show.

He’d picked this girl because she’s loud in bed and seemingly not embarrassed about it. After sex though, he realized that she’s just loud all the time. He decides he can’t ask her to go on a date, much less hang out with her for three months as her boyfriend. He wasn’t sure what she was talking about as he pulled on some clothes, but he interrupted her to tell her he had an 8am class the next day and he’d see her out. She took the hint and began getting dressed. There was no 8am, but he wanted whatever this was to end promptly. He also wouldn’t be reaching out to her again.

He was still icing his friends out but Jeonghan was satisfied with the expressions on their faces as he went back to his room after seeing the chatterbox out. They could make comments about his dating habits, or lack thereof, but they couldn’t say he didn’t know what he was doing in every other way. They’d had to listen to the evidence of it. 

That eased his mind until the next day. At lunch, they made it clear they hadn’t forgotten about his rejection the day before. He was thankful that all except for Joshua had a class soon after so his suffering wasn’t prolonged like yesterday. As soon as the others were far enough away, Joshua frowned at Jeonghan. “I’m sorry. I told them to let it go, but you know how they are.”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Jeonghan mumbled, unable to meet his friend’s eyes. He stuffed his hands in his pockets uncomfortably as they start walking. 

“For what it's worth, they set you up anyway.” 

Now, that got Jeonghan’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“She’s friends with Mingyu’s roommate, Wonwoo. They knew she’d shut you down.” 

Oh. Now it was making sense. He remembers how smug Seungcheol and Mingyu had looked when they’d spotted Y/N. Jeonghan had met Wonwoo many times over the years. Mingyu and Wonwoo shared a lot of classes and seemed to get along as roommates, but Wonwoo was never very interested in joining them when they went out. They’d stopped extending the invitation after a while. Mingyu said his roommate would rather be home reading or playing video games anyway.

“Are they close? Y/N and Wonwoo?” Jeonghan wasn’t totally sure why he was asking. Maybe he wanted to know who she would say yes to, if not him. He’d like to think he checks a lot of boxes for women, but… she must be a unique case. Maybe if he knew who she would date, it would make him feel better. 

“Seem to be. Mingyu said they’ve known each other for a long time, since they were little I think. Y/N’s apartment is apparently where Wonwoo goes when Mingyu brings guests over.” Guests, meaning girls - Joshua was just too polite to say it. Jeonghan had a similar system with Seungcheol when he wasn’t trying to prove a point. Basic roommate etiquette and all that.

“Don’t sweat it too much, okay? It’s a single rejection. I don’t condone the bets or dares, you know that, but I know I can’t stop you guys there. There are plenty of other girls on campus if you’re really serious about this. Just be careful.” With that, Joshua turned towards his class and walked away. Jeonghan was almost late because of how distracted he was. 

He had to let go of this if only for his sanity. Joshua was right - it was a single rejection. The only one in his entire high school and college careers. It was a blip on the radar. A small infraction on an otherwise perfect record. It wasn’t like he’d have to see her anyway. He’d only had a few classes with her and even if he did have to see her he’d just avoid her until he wasn’t feeling so wounded by the whole thing. No big deal. He can breathe easier with that realization. 

Whatever high Jeonghan had been riding since Tuesday comes crashing down at approximately 4:30pm on Thursday afternoon. He was almost late to his Tales of Villainy literature class. Though he was on a pre-law track, he was technically an English major and had to fulfill a certain number of literature credit hours to graduate in the spring. Of all the options offered this semester, this one seemed like the most tolerable. 

Oh, right. Except that the first person he lays eyes on when he walks into the classroom is none other than Y/N. And the only seat left open is the one directly behind her. He bites back a curse and almost leaves. He’s considering just dropping the class and figuring it out later, but the instructor is already looking at him from the podium, waiting to start. Jeonghan silently sits down in the seat behind her. He knows he can’t drop because he’s on a tight schedule to graduate. If Y/N noticed him, she doesn’t show it. 

He does his best to focus on what the instructor is saying. What tests and essays there will be. What works they’ll be reading and when. What kind of participation he wants to see in class. Jeonghan prays that all of this is in the syllabus he blankly glances at occasionally because he’s taking very little of it in right now. 

The truth is he feels like a fucking teenager, because he can’t stop glancing at the girl in front of him. He’s noticing things that he’d normally not notice or give much thought to when it comes to girls. Usually, he’s looking at their bodies and how much skin he can see, or how they’re looking at him. Specific features have never mattered much or held his attention because it all feels the same in the end.

So it’s totally unfair that he’s transfixed by her. The way her hair falls in her face when she leans down to write something with a stupid purple glitter pen. Or the doodling she’s doing in the margins, which mostly consists of a bunch of little suns and moons. Or the smell of her perfume which is some kind of blend of lavender and vanilla. He’s not even admiring her body as much as he normally would, but that’s really nice too. He noticed that earlier in the week when he’d approached her.

He wants her in a way that he hasn’t wanted anyone before but his ego is still in recovery and he can’t risk asking her again. Why wasn’t she into him? Was he losing his touch? It occurs to him that maybe he’s bordering on obsession like this only because she turned him down. Because she seems unattainable. That’s something he’s never really experienced before, but Jeonghan’s been known to like a challenge. It feels kind of like a fatal flaw right now.

He has to get here earlier next week to secure a seat away from her, not only to save his grade but to save his sanity and ego. Fuck the rule that you sit in the seat you picked on the first day for the entire semester. He’d fight someone for it to avoid this kind of spiral weekly. He needed to put a lot of distance between Y/N and himself ASAP.

After three agonizing hours, when the instructor lets them go, Jeonghan is the first one out of his seat, not even bothering to stop to stuff the syllabus that’s wrinkled in his grasp into his backpack. He thinks about bailing on his plans with his friends to call someone over because he needs some sort of validation right now that he hasn’t lost his touch, but thinks better of it. He’s afraid his friends will see right though the facade. They don’t need to know his ego his hurt this badly that he’s driven to hook up with so many people in a week to get over one rejection. 

He’d get his validation tomorrow night. Maybe more than once with the way his system was on overdrive. At least then he wouldn’t have to seek it out. They’d come to him.

Y/N thinks that if she has to hear this song again she’s going to scream. She’s in her ensuite bathroom with the door closed and she can hear CL’s Hello Bitches start for the 23rd time. Yes, she’s been counting. She loves CL, but this is becoming excessive. 

She can also hear who is in tune and who is most certainly not. She’s just about to get her eyeliner right this time when there’s a screech in the other room. Not the type of sound you expect to hear when you know there are six grown men in there. 

Swinging the door open, she’s met with the sight of Seungkwan pinning Junhui down by his neck. Soonyoung is scolding them (which is ironic because he’s usually at the center of these things) but the other three are totally unfazed. Vernon and Minghao are scrolling on their phones and Wonwoo looks like he’s napping (or trying to anyway). “Guys, are there any other songs on this ‘playlist’ of yours?” 

Seungkwan pulls away from Junhui, whose glad for the opportunity to escape. Seungkwan turns his wrath to Y/N. “What do you have against this one?”

“It’s one song, Kwan. It shouldn’t count as a playlist,” Y/N deadpanned.

Seungkwan glares. “Yeah, well, your eyeliner sucks.” 

“Thanks to Junhui’s screeching,” Y/N sasses, while Junhui scoffs, putting a hand to his chest in offense. They all ignore him and his dramatics. 

Minghao’s off the bed in moments though, taking the eyeliner pen from Y/N and pushing her back into the bathroom. “Let me fix it so we can leave. I can’t stand them or this song anymore and I need a drink.” Minghao’s subsequent glare silences the laugh that’s bubbling up Y/N’s throat. Like the artist he is, Minghao’s efficient with lots of mediums, including eyeliner apparently, and they’re dragging her out of the apartment in less than five minutes. 

This is not their normal Friday night. They usually end up at one of the restaurants down the street until it closes and then they move to Vernon and Y/N’s apartment to crash. Sometimes there’s alcohol, but there’s always more food (despite having their fill at the restaurant), and almost always some form of games. 

So it was to everyone’s surprise when Wonwoo announced that his roommate, Mingyu, had insisted they come to a party tonight. Seungkwan, Soonyoung, and Junhui were in immediately. The rest took some convincing and Wonwoo was certainly not going to do it. He left that to his friends that couldn’t wait to get drunk on someone else’s alcohol. 

The walk was short and the house was already packed when they arrived. They squeezed through the crowd to the kitchen to get drinks and then went their separate ways. It was likely that they’d all end up back at her apartment anyway, so Y/N wasn’t worried. She runs into Minseo in the kitchen and strikes up a conversation. They were roommates in the dorms until Y/N moved into her own apartment with Vernon and Minseo moved into the sorority house. They were unlikely friends back then and even remained friendly when they ran into each other on campus now. 

Minseo was talking about being a big for her sorority this year, something she’d been looking forward to. However, Minseo was cut off by an “Oh shit!” Something splashed onto Y/N’s shoes. She hadn’t looked down but Minseo had. Y/N did not like how her former roommate’s face was twisted in disgust right now. Y/N glanced down.

Yep, that’s puke. 

“I am so sorry!” Y/N was convinced that any and all gods hated her, because she recognized that voice. She looked up to find Yoon Jeonghan in front of her with wide, panicked eyes. He was clutching another guy by his sides, seemingly holding him up. “He’s a freshman, he doesn’t know how to handle his alcohol quite yet.” 

“It’s fine,” Y/N forced out, trying not to look down at her converse again. She’d most certainly gag if she did.

The freshman wavered on his feet but this time he made it to the trash can behind Minseo. Jeonghan was no longer clutching the freshman, but now ringing his hands, so uncharacteristic from his usually overwhelming confidence. “Let me wash your shoes for you. My friend lives here, he won’t mind.” 

“No, no. That’s not necessary.” With a grimace, Y/N dropped her drink into the trash can when the freshman came up for air. She tried not to look at Jeonghan and instead looked at Minseo. “I’m going to head home.” 

“At least let me walk you home. It’s late,” Jeonghan cut in, face pinched with anxiety. 

Y/N waved her hand as she stepped back. “No, that’s not necessary either. It’s not far.” The freshman had his head in the trashcan again. “I think he needs you more right now, anyway.”

She didn’t wait for an answer and quickly exited the house. As she walked, she pulled out her phone and sent a message to the group chat that she was leaving. They all had her location so they’d know when she made it home if they were worried.

The August air was stagnant and humid, making the smell on her shoes so much worse. She grimaced again. This was why she didn’t go to these types of things. Minseo and a few of the guys regularly tried to get her out of the house, but this was just not her vibe. Tonight was just more evidence of that. She had terrible luck with these things.

A rhythmic sound was getting louder behind her. For a moment, she prayed that Yoon Jeonghan hadn’t followed her to walk her home like he’d been insisting. She was beyond relieved when she heard a more welcomed voice. “Hey, what happened?” Wonwoo asked as he slowed next to her. He must have caught a whiff of what had happened because he did a quick scan of her before landing on her shoes and muttering, “Ew. Dude, that’s gross.”

“I know,” she scoffed. “Go back to the party. Mingyu wanted you there.” 

Wonwoo began walking with her, ignoring her command. He shrugged, “I showed up and spoke to him. That’s more than he usually gets. What happened to you though? You didn’t answer.”

“Some freshman that couldn’t handle his alcohol apparently. That’s the shortest visit we’ve ever made to a party and that’s saying something.” Wonwoo laughed at Y/N’s words and thankfully it diffused some of her tension. 

“Yeah, a whopping twenty minutes.” 

Wonwoo was the brave one when it came time to deal with Y/N’s shoes upon arriving to the apartment. She slid them off along with her socks at the door and Wonwoo carefully picked them up by the least gross parts. Never mind that he sprinted for the washing machine with a scream. He said it was so he wouldn’t breath in and smell it. Y/N thought that was pretty valid.

When the others arrived at the apartment a few hours later, they found Y/N and Wonwoo on opposite sides of the couch, one reading and one playing video games. They joined in seamlessly, grabbing snacks from the kitchen to sober up. She appreciated that they didn’t ask why she left early. The last thing she wanted to talk about was anything in reference to Yoon Jeonghan. 

It’s been nearly a week and Jeonghan is still not talking to Chan. He pretends like he doesn’t hear him when he talks. He’s getting really good at it. 

At first it confused Chan, particularly when there was no one else in the room with them in Jihoon’s trashed kitchen on Saturday morning. It goes on so long that a hung over Chan starts to wonder if he’s invisible. Can that happen? He’s never drank this much before. He’s starting to worry about weird genetic mutations or that maybe he’s a ghost now. However, Seungcheol greets him when he enters the kitchen. So that settles it. Not invisible. Jeonghan’s just mad.

It takes the entirety of Saturday and Sunday, and the first half of Monday before Joshua finally steps in to counsel them and try to solve the issue at hand. All of them have a soft spot for Chan and don’t like seeing him so dejected. It turns out Chan remembers very little of the party so he doesn’t even know what to apologize for, though he keeps offering blanket apologies. So, Jeonghan tells the story in excruciating detail. Mingyu is downright elated by it. Seungcheol and Jihoon try to bite back their laughs and turn away. Chan is completely mortified and says he’s swearing off drinking for good. Joshua can’t fix this, he’s decided, but he feels a lot of sympathy for Chan. After all, they were all once freshman and did some stupid things. So he tries to fix it anyway. He fails. 

Then food magically starts appearing in front of Jeonghan randomly. First it’s a burger and fries that Chan treats him to on Monday night when they all go out. Then it’s coffee and a muffin on Tuesday morning. When they go out for beers on Wednesday, Chan buys everything Jeonghan drinks, but Chan doesn’t partake even though this college bar is known to overlook a little underaged drinking now and then. Thursday, Jeonghan finally puts a stop to it because Chan must be spending a small fortune for a college student on this apology. He accepts the coffee Chan hands him and says, “Okay, enough.”

Chan’s eyes are hopeful and Jeonghan hates how much he loves the kid. He really does seem to feel bad. “I’m forgiven?”

Jeonghan nods. “Yes. Please pace yourself next time though.” 

“Of course,” Chan nods eagerly. “I do not want to feel like that again. Have you talked to her since?”

The question catches Jeonghan off guard. He’s relieved it’s just him and Chan today. He really wants his friends to forget about her entirely because every time she comes up it’s kind of like they’re twisting the knife. “Uh, no. I’m trying not to see or talk to her, which might become a bit of a challenge at 4:30 today. I have a class with her.”

“Oh,” Chan deflates. “Maybe I should apologize? I know you said you did, but… maybe it wasn’t well-received.”

“Yeah, because she had puke on her shoes,” Jeonghan half scoffs, half laughs.

“Sure…” Chan looks like he wants to say something more and Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “That has something to do with it, I’m sure… But… Okay, I’m not telling you this to bother you about it. I know you’d wish we’d drop it. But the others are really enjoying how much she seems to not like you. Something about karma.” Chan gives a shrug because he isn’t sure what else to do. 

“Karma about what?” Jeonghan bit, anger rising. If feels like all of this has been so far out of his control that it’s not fair. What has he done to deserve this?

Chan wouldn’t make eye contact with Jeonghan. “You know I’m new, so I don’t know specifics. But something about how you deserve to be shut down every now and then. That your body count borders on too much.”

Jeonghan can’t help but scoff. “Literally all of them except for Joshua have a high body count. They’re not totally innocent either. Besides, the whole concept of body count is stupid.”

“Yeah, it’s been pointed out,” Chan said cryptically. “Anyway, I’ll apologize if you think it will help. Just let me know.”

Jeonghan debates on whether to stick to his plan of avoidance throughout the rest of the day. When he arrives to his lit class, he makes the impulsive decision to sit behind Y/N again. He cares more than he’d like to admit that she seems to hate him. It’s one thing if he deserves it - if he’s done something to her, then he thinks he could accept this and move on like he has many times with many other girls. But he hasn’t really done anything to her besides ask her out and it’s starting to eat him alive, especially when he thinks about how she said no before she realized he’d been dared to do it. And the party on Friday was just a comedy of errors. Maybe there was a little irony in the fact that, out of all the people at that party, it was her shoes that Chan threw up on. 

She’s reading when he slides into the seat behind her. When she’s finished a chapter, he taps her on the shoulder. She closes the book around her fingers, turning in her seat. Her expression, like it was in their last two interactions, doesn't give much away except that she’d already like the conversation to be over already. It pains Jeonghan to see because it’s not the reception that he usually gets.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry about Friday.”

Y/N blinks. He hates how big and pretty her eyes are, even when she’s definitely not happy to see him. “You said that already. I told you it’s fine.” Her voice is totally flat and he really wishes he could read her mind. Maybe then he could find a way to fix this. They don’t have to be friends by any means, but something other than her total disinterest would be nice. 

“I know, I just -“ He doesn’t know where to go with this. He swallows roughly. He’s expecting her to turn away, but she doesn’t, placing the book in her lap now. There’s something patient in her expression that confuses him, but he’ll take advantage of it. “It’s occurred to me that I haven’t left the best impression, not just once, but twice now.”

She laughs, but there’s something humorless about it and it makes his lips turn down a little more. “More than twice, but I’d have to agree with that.”

He’s not sure what he’s done before this semester, doesn’t remember a single interaction with her before all this. “I’d like us to forget it if we can. Start over, if you will.” He’s not sure why he’s saying this or why it’s so important to him. He’s never cared much about his interactions with women outside of before, during, and after sex. It’s clear that none of that is going to happen here.

She seems to be thinking and it feels like she can see right through him. He squirms in his seat, not used to feeling so exposed. Usually, he’s the one reading people, not the other way around. And he can’t read her - not when he asked her out, not at the party, and not now. Finally, she smiles but there’s kind of an evil look in her eyes. “I’ll think about it. I’m still mad that you pissed on my car.” 

Jeonghan’s jaw drops, breath catching in his throat, but he can’t get a word in because the instructor has swept into the room and Y/N is already turning around in her seat. He drops his head in his hands and suppresses a groan. This class is the longest three hours of his life. 

It’s nearly dark when class ends. Jeonghan stuffs his things in his bag quickly, but his movements are hurried and messy and Y/N is already walking out of the classroom. He calls her name as he exits the building. He kind of expects her to ignore him, but she stops, halfway turning to glance at him. She kind of looks smug and he doesn’t know how to take it. He halts next to her. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea it was your car.” 

Y/N looks away and starts walking again and Jeonghan is trailing behind her now. “Do you have a habit of doing that when you go out drinking?” 

The question is conversational, casual even. Jeonghan feels awkward and kind of wishes she’d just yell at him. “Uh, no. It’s not a habit of mine.” He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or not when she looks mildly amused.

“You seem nervous.” Another casual statement.

Jeonghan stuffs his hands in the pocket of his jeans and he watches in real-time as she clocks the defensive pose. Yeah, she’s definitely amused. He’s noticed she’s incredibly perceptive. He feels like an open book to her. “I’m not used to making this much of a fool out of myself. I’m usually much smoother than this.” He admits it because she probably knows it already anyway. 

“Oh, I know. Your reputation is well-known around here. Quite the heartbreaker.” She says it so evenly that it somehow hurts worse than the anger that he gets from other women. It’s like it’s a fact. Jeonghan guesses it is and it makes him deflate. 

“Is… that why you said no?” The question leaves a very bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he fucking cares. It’s just one girl, why is she worming her way into his brain like this, making him feel so insecure?

There’s curiosity in her eyes when she glances up at him. “Perhaps. It didn’t help that you’d obviously been put up to it.”

Jeonghan huffs. “Yeah, that probably looked bad, didn’t it?” He’d been so stressed about getting his lick back lately that he’d kind of forgotten how fast she’d put all the puzzle pieces together. 

“Oh, yeah,” she laughed, but this time it wasn’t so humorless. He’s so surprised that she’s not mad because she has every right to be. He doesn’t know what to say. “This is my stop,” she said, pointing to the library behind her. “Look, I don’t know what all that was about, and I don’t really want to know. But consider that maybe your friends are just dicks if they’re putting you up to something like that. Even you might deserve better friends, Yoon Jeonghan.” 

She wishes him goodnight with a wave and his frown is so deep that even Seungcheol notices when he arrives home. Jeonghan brushes it off, almost feeling bad when Seungcheol presses again later that night, asking if everything is okay. Jeonghan remembers what Joshua and Chan said about the whole thing being a set up and how much they were enjoying it. Hell, it had even occurred to him that her presence at the party was a set up too, now that he knew Mingyu’s roommate was one of her friends. It would be so easy to invite Wonwoo and tell him to bring his friends as a courtesy.

No, he wouldn’t be talking to any of them about Y/N anytime soon. The sooner they all forget about this whole thing, the better.

The weeks start to fly by as the semester gets underway officially. Jeonghan is taking more than a full load of classes because he plans to do an internship next semester that will take up most of his time. This is something that he begrudgingly planned for last semester, but is really thankful for now. There’s a predictable pattern to his life. Class, homework, hang out with friends, go to parties on Friday and Saturday night and maybe take someone home. He’s not even doing that last part as often as he once did. He keeps thinking about his friends’ words at the beginning of the semester and when he does hook up with someone he’s left feeling less than satisfied. He's never realized how empty the whole thing is, but now that he does he can’t unsee it.

The only other deviation from this plan is the occasional conversation with Y/N in their shared lit class. 

No, he hasn’t moved seats. No, he doesn’t plan to anytime soon. No, he doesn’t want to talk about it. 

That’s what he tells Joshua after his friend spots Jeonghan and Y/N leaving their class together. They've taken to idly chatting as he walks with her to the library on his way to his own destination. He’s thankful it was Joshua that saw it and that his friend was willing to let it go. Joshua also must have kept it to himself because none of his other friends said anything. They’d seemingly forgotten about Y/N. 

Which was perfect because he doesn’t want to talk about how many times he’s been embarrassing himself in front of her. 

In September, his printer crapped out and the ancient professor that he was writing a paper for insisted on paper copies, even though the school offered a perfectly good online submission option. So Jeonghan found himself at the library late on Thursday night. Yes, he knew Y/N was working because he’d walked her there earlier that night. No, he didn’t want to talk about it. He especially didn’t want to talk about how he broke the printer and had to approach Y/N to admit it. If he hadn’t have needed that paper printed for first thing in the morning, he would have ran for it and come back another time. Y/N assured him that this particular printer was always on the fritz and offered to print it for him at the reference desk, but there was something sly in her expression when she handed him a stack of warm papers neatly stapled together. It’s like she knew he was taking a hit to his pride by having to ask her of all people, despite the positive interactions that they had sometimes. 

In mid-October, he found out she actually lived in the same apartment building as him. He found that out because he had been dared to wear his halloween costume (Spiderman to be exact) to check the mail. No good reason, just because. He usually had no shame, so what’s the worst that could happen? He found out the worst is seeing Y/N coming down the hallway. He ducked into the elevator as soon as it opened and repeatedly pressed the Close Door button, hoping to avoid the whole thing. However, Y/N not only saw him, but how aggressively he was pressing the button as she slid into the elevator. He realized he wasn’t wearing his mask and she was biting back a smirk. “Don’t…” he muttered, his eyes closed tight. She stayed silent throughout the whole interaction, letting him retain what little pride he had left. He’s not even sure why he’s so embarrassed because he’s done way more ridiculous things in far more public settings just for a laugh. Jeonghan returned to his apartment with none of his usual bravado when he completed a dare. 

In early November, Jeonghan decided he wanted to make ramen at 3am. Writing a paper had worked up an appetite. He’d made ramen a thousand times in his college career. What he hadn’t done before is set off the fire alarm in the apartment complex. As he stood in the parking lot watching the fire department sweep the building, he heard Y/N grumbling to her roommate how annoying this was because she had an 8am class. If he’d had his keys, he would have gone to hide in his car. Or maybe leave. 

Yeah, maybe just leave. Seungcheol could handle the rent, right?

And then there were the times that Y/N of all people had caught him in compromising positions with girls. The first was when an acquaintance of Seungcheol’s that lives in the same building hosted a party. He’s making out with a girl in the hallway. He’s not sure why he didn’t just take her up to his own apartment down the hall, but the thought hadn’t occur to him immediately. He’d just pushed her out of the apartment and against the wall in the hallway and she let him. He’s almost got his hand under this girl’s shirt when he hears something alarmingly similar to Y/N’s voice from the other end of the hallway. It snaps him out of whatever lust-filled haze he was in and she and her friends pass by them in the hallway. He knows she’s seen him and what he was doing - the eye roll gives it away. The girl asks him to take her somewhere more private and he does, but he’s a little distracted for the rest of the night. 

The second time is at the library of all places. He’s been paired with a girl from one of his classes to work on an assignment and they’ve agreed to work in the library. He’d normally suggest working somewhere more private, but he’s not terribly attracted to his project partner. She’s fine, he’s just not that interested. However, the project is painfully dull and when she suggests that they sneak off for a few minutes he agrees automatically. He lets her suck him off in one of the dark corners of the stacks. Despite not being very attracted to her, she’s decent and he enjoys it enough to come. He also doesn’t mind the thrill of a little exhibitionism from time to time. His blood runs cold when they’re walking back to their table and Y/N is in the next aisle over, reshelving some books off a rolling cart. He has no idea how much she’s seen or heard. She doesn’t look at him, but she’s shaking her head. He decides he can’t stick around and makes an excuse that he’s forgotten something and he needs to leave. 

The most recent run-in is at another party, this time at a sorority house. He’s snuck off to the bathroom with one of the sorority girls and he’s got her sitting on the sink. Her hand is in his pants and his fingers are in her panties buried deep inside her when there’s a knock on the door and it opens. None other than Y/N is standing there. He pulls away from the girl quickly, but the girl’s hand is still very much in his pants and he knows Y/N has seen all of it anyway. He starts to apologize so they can let her have the bathroom, but Y/N is already waving him off with another eye roll and closing the door behind her. He makes an excuse to the girl and doesn’t end up taking anyone home that night.

And after all that, luck was especially not on his side when their lit instructor announced that they’d be pairing up with someone for their final presentation. This was both a blessing and a curse. Someone to share the responsibility for the bulk of your grade, but also… someone to let you down on the bulk of your grade. Jeonghan also couldn’t decide if it was a blessing and a curse that the instructor paired him up with Y/N. She didn’t object and he’s too mortified by 90% of the interactions he's ever had with her, so he kept his mouth shut and accepted her invitation to meet, pick a book, and lay out a plan. She was a good student so he could at least bank on a good grade. He’d have to get a grip if he was going to survive this project though.

Yet another thing that he did not want to talk about with his friends. 

It’s Wednesday afternoon in early November when Jeonghan slides into the seat across from Y/N. They’ve agreed to meet in a coffee shop just off campus. When Y/N recommended it, Jeonghan simply shrugged and asked for the time.

“Sorry, I got caught up after class. You haven’t been waiting long, have you?” Jeonghan asked. His face was pinched with the usual concern - usual only because she kept seeing it when he looked at her over the course of this semester. It was very different from the arrogant grin he usually wore, and somewhere deep down (deep, deep, deep down), she was wondering if she’d been too harsh on him or misjudged him. He seemed to wear a mask sometimes and she could see right through it because she liked to wear one too. 

Either that, or he was the greatest actor in the world. Maybe this new face of concern was a facade to get her to let her guard down so he could still win whatever bet his friends had issued. But it didn’t seem like it. He hadn’t broached any topic that indicated he had an ulterior motive since the first day of class. Anyway, even if it was all an act, she kind of liked watching him squirm. 

“Not long. What do you want to drink? I’ll go get it,” Y/N said, prepared to stand up. 

Jeonghan immediately objected. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it in a minute.”

“No, really,” Y/N chuckled. “I know the barista. Just tell me what you want.”

He reluctantly gave his order and she smiled as she left the table, satisfied that he’d folded so quickly. 

Minghao was standing behind the register with an eyebrow raised when she approached the counter. He leaned over the register to whisper to her. “Yoon Jeonghan? What’s that about?” 

“We’re paired for a project. Can I add another drink to my tab?” Y/N gave her sweetest smile. Minghao’s lips pursed like he was unimpressed, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“Your tab is becoming alarmingly long, you know that right? The boss doesn’t even want us to offer tabs to friends.” Nevertheless, he took the drink order and began making it. While he was at it, they were discussing plans for the upcoming weekend. Junhui was performing in a play on Saturday and all of his friends had agreed to show up in support - not that he could keep them away. They hadn’t seen much of Junhui in the past few weeks as he’d been rehearsing nonstop, but everyone was really proud of him. They were planning to cheer and clap so loudly it embarrassed him, give him flowers, and treat him to dinner and drinks afterwards. 

When Y/N put the drink in front of Jeonghan, he looked like he was ready to go with his laptop and a printout of the approved books for the project. She was pleasantly surprised by this since he never seemed to take classes too seriously. Sometimes he didn’t even bother to get out a pen or paper or even open his laptop to take notes. She just hoped he’d open the damn book that they picked out because she had never seen him read a single page with her own eyes.

Still, she was pleasantly surprised again at how involved he was with their selection process. They agreed on The Monk, mostly because they both liked the challenge. Not many people were picking something from the 1700s if they could help it and their selection would show some initiative to their instructor. He’d even agreed to a reading schedule and regular meetings. She tried to remind herself that every time she got caught up in how cute he was when he focused, or how intently he seemed to be listening, that this was the man that pissed on her car in the beginning of the semester. And asked her out on a bet or dare. And whose friend puked on her shoes. And… you get the idea.

Somehow she didn’t feel all that angry about a lot of it anymore. Weird.

That’s why when he began chatting idly about other things outside of the project, she didn’t shut him down. She told him about her plans for Junhui’s play this weekend and he told her he’d been applying to internships for next semester without much luck. She surprised herself by volunteering to review his applications and resume. He looked really cute when he was surprised by the offer and she bit her tongue to keep from further trapping herself. Being friendly with Yoon Jeonghan was something she was still conflicted about.

“Can I ask you something?” Jeonghan asked hesitantly when conversation lapsed. Y/N shrugged. “You said you know the barista?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, his name is Minghao. We’ve been friends since freshman year.”

Jeonghan hummed and something smug filled his expression. “Mhm. So how long have you liked him then?”

Y/N choked on air. “What? What are you talking about?”

Jeonghan laughed, shaking his head. “I saw you bat your pretty eyes and smile for a free drink - thank you by the way. That’s so unlike you. I mean, all I get are blank stares most of the time and I’d like to think I’m quite charming.” 

“It’s not like that,” Y/N insists, but it was weak at best. Her face feels hot.

“There’s nothing wrong if it is like that,” Jeonghan assured. It appeared to be genuine, encouraging even. 

“It’s…” Y/N trailed off, avoiding eye contact as she tried to find the words. Whatever explanation she was trying to conjure up fizzled out when the door to the cafe opened. “Oh god.” She dropped her head into her hands. 

Jeonghan swung to look in the same direction. “Whose that?” He glanced back at her. He’d always thought he might enjoy seeing Y/N in a way that wasn’t so composed after all the times he’d made a fool of himself in front of her. And he did enjoy teasing her about her little crush on the barista. He’d never thought he’d see her blush and it was pretty cute. However, this was different because she looked down right mortified. Not cute. He’s feeling protective all of the sudden for no good reason. “Uh, he’s walking over.” He watches the mask snap back into place so fast that he gets whiplash. She had just looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole, but now her face is totally impassive. 

“Y/N!” The guy is now standing in front of their table, a bright smile on his face. 

The smile Y/N returns is friendly enough but it doesn’t meet her eyes. “Seokmin, how are you? I’m surprised to see you here.” Jeonghan thinks that she really meant something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you doing here’ instead. Seokmin clearly did not know that.

“Oh, you know I couldn’t miss Junhui’s first leading role. I had some time off and decided to come and visit.” Seokmin is still smiling brightly and Jeonghan knows now that he’s not a fan. He’s seen Y/N looked totally unimpressed, primarily at Jeonghan, but this is different. There’s a flash of anxiety on her face that unsettles him. This guy’s done something wrong and he hopes she’ll stick up for herself. He wants a front row seat to it and he doesn’t even know what Seokmin’s done.

Y/N’s smile is tight. “That’s great. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled you made the trip.”

Maybe Seokmin is finally picking up on the tension because the thousand-watt smile dims a bit. She hadn’t said she was happy to see him, just that Junhui would be. Seokmin turns to Jeonghan, sticking out his hand. “Lee Seokmin.”

Jeonghan turns on the charm, giving his best smile and gripping Seokmin’s hand tight as they shake. “Yoon Jeonghan.” He isn’t sure what Seokmin is thinking when he glances back and forth between Y/N and Jeonghan, but Jeonghan kind of hopes that in some twisted way he thinks they’re together. He’s trying to put out the vibes of a possessive boyfriend, mostly so Seokmin will stop looking at Y/N because it’s clearly making her uncomfortable. She’s shrunk in her seat and crossed her arms, making herself look small.

Seokmin’s about to say something when Minghao comes out of the back and yells his name. Seokmin’s easily distracted and as soon as he’s away from the table, it takes half a second of eye contact before Jeonghan and Y/N are packing up their stuff, making a show of looking at the time and saying they’re late for something.

Once they’re out of the coffee shop and around the corner, Jeonghan pulls her to a halt by the elbow because she’s practically sprinting. “What exactly was that about?” 

He doesn’t ask if she’s okay because her distress is crystal clear. Now that she’s out of the cafe, she looks like she might cry. “It’s kind of a long story.” There’s a choked quality to her voice that tugs at his heart strings. He can’t explain that. He’s seen plenty of women cry, usually because of him, and it’s never really bothered him before. 

“I have time,” Jeonghan shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but he’s floored that she’s not shutting him down and walking away right now. Y/N’s mouth opens and closes a few times before she finally pouts. He doesn’t even think she’s aware she’s doing it but he still suppresses the urge to squish her face because of how cute she looks. He doesn’t think that she’d like for anyone to do that, much less him. “How about this? It’s nearly dinner time. Let’s go get something besides coffee and you can tell me about it.” She looks hesitant, probably remembering the first day of classes, so he tacks on, “No ulterior motives, I promise. You just look like you need to talk to someone about it. I’ll even pay.”

He lets her order her chicken tenders, fries, and milkshake before he starts asking questions, mostly because he’s surprised she’s still sitting across from him and the promise of food on the way might make her stay. The whole walk to the diner near their apartment complex, he had half expected for her to make a run for it. 

“I’m not sure where to start.” There’s a helpless tone to how she admits this and Jeonghan hates it. She’s usually so sure of herself and he already hates Lee Seokmin for the effect he seems to have on her.

“Let’s start with Seokmin.” The waitress delivers their milkshakes and Jeonghan patiently waits while Y/N jabs the straw into her cup and starts twisting and crumbling the straw wrapper. 

“We dated. For a long time actually, since high school. We even picked this school so we could go together because it had both of the programs we were interested in. He’s a theatre major, you know? Well, was. Was a theatre major. Last year, out of the blue he announced that he’d landed a role and he’d be moving right away for it. I hadn’t even known he was auditioning for anything that wasn’t local. He broke up with me because he thought he wouldn’t have time for me and left three days later. Back at the cafe is the first time I’ve seen or spoken to him since.”

Y/N looks so dejected as she grabs Jeonghan’s straw wrapper because hers is totally mangled now. He kind of wishes he’d hit Lee Seokmin rather than shake his hand. “How long were you together?”

“6 years, almost 7.” The pout is back and Jeonghan’s beginning to heat with anger. What a waste that time was for her.

“I’m… sorry. That’s so shitty. I can’t imagine it.”

“Kind of hoped he wouldn’t come back. That maybe he’d be so successful abroad that he’d never need to. Is that wrong of me?” 

Jeonghan scoffed. “Wrong of you to wish him success even though he broke your heart to achieve it? Maybe. Something isn’t right about that.” He’s aware immediately of how hypocritical what he just said is. Earlier this semester he asked her out on a bet, fully intending to date her for three months and then dump her to cash in on the $300 he was promised. He squashed the thought because now wasn’t the time. He needs to get that pout off her lips right now. He kind of hates that the only way he can think of to do it is to bring up Minghao. She was so much lighter when she ordered Jeonghan’s drink from him. “How does Minghao fit into all this?”

The pout lifts a bit. “Minghao was one of the first friends I made in my freshman year here. I took an art class for one of my general education requirements and he was in it. I’m not an artist. But he was kind about it even though he’s a much better artist than me and even helped me fix a lot of my work so I could pass. Last year, when Seokmin left, Minghao was still kind, even though Seokmin was his friend too. He didn’t look at me with pity like a lot of the others did.” Abruptly, she throws down the second mangled straw wrapper, crossing her arms across her chest. “That probably sounds stupid, doesn't it?”

“No!” Y/N’s eyes flare at Jeonghan’s rather passionate answer and Jeonghan tries to backpedal. “I mean… I know I don’t set a great example when it comes to this stuff. God only knows my friends won’t let me live it down. But I can sympathize. You put your heart and soul into someone for nearly 7 years and then he up and leaves at the first sign of a greater opportunity without so much as asking what you want? That would hurt anyone. It’s also totally reasonable to have a soft spot for someone that helped you when you needed it after all that.”

He’s avoided looking at her during his whole speech, but when he does he knows what he’s looking at because he’s already seen it a couple times tonight. She’s biting her lip and her eyes look unusually wet. He’s about to apologize when she says, “You surprise me, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“I do?” Jeonghan asked, confused.

Whatever emotion she was showing clears and she nods firmly. “Yes. Every time I think I have you figured out, it seems I’m wrong. You’re pretty thoughtful when you want to be.”

He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s not like this with most people, not by a long shot. The waitress brings their food and he’s thankful for the distraction. He’s nearly done with his burger when Y/N speaks again.

“What were they going to pay you if I said yes?” 

Jeonghan is sure he knows exactly what she’s talking about but he prays he’s misunderstanding. He tries to play dumb. “Huh?”

“You said your friends never let you live down your reputation. I saw them that day that you asked me out. What was the prize if I said yes?” 

He stalls out of for a long moment and Y/N waits patiently. “You won’t be mad?” 

“No. It was obvious there was an ulterior motive the moment you approached me. We’ve had classes together for years and you never even glanced at me.” 

He thinks that wasn’t totally true but he doesn't correct her because he doesn’t think it would change anything. She appears to be honest about not being mad so he clears his throat. “One of my friends, Joshua, is in a relationship and very happy. I don’t know how it ended up here, but they all agreed I was basically incapable of dating like that, or at all really. They wouldn’t let it go and it bothered me. I felt like I had something to prove to them.” 

“How much?” This time she was pressing. His throat burned because it occurred to him why Joshua didn’t condone the betting and dares in the first place. Telling her she was worth $300 and some bragging rights to him made him feel ashamed now, especially with how she’d just opened up to him. But he answered her anyway. To her credit, she barely blinks. “And you picked me?”

“They did.” Jeonghan feels like he’s swallowing acid. He wonders if she thinks he finds her unattractive or that he never would have picked her if it had been up to him. That bothers him for reasons unknown.

“So they set you up then.” Jeonghan must have looked surprised because Y/N continues. “Mingyu knows I don’t like his habits. It runs Wonwoo out of his apartment constantly and hurts a lot of feelings. Because of your reputation, and your association with Mingyu, they had to know what I would say.”

Jeonghan’s positively dejected now. He slumps in his seat, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I guess so.” He looks out of the window to avoid her eyes because she’s doing that thing again where she looks right through him and he feels too raw now.

“It really does bother you, doesn't it? You don’t think you could do it if it was with the right person?”

“Maybe not,” Jeonghan mumbles bitterly. “I haven’t even gone a date since I was a sophomore in high school and my fucking mom drove me to it.” His laugh is so hollow as he wipes his hands down his face in frustration. He doesn’t know why he’s admitting this. He expects to see pity in her face but her expression is not completely impassive or unkind. “Sounds kind of pathetic, really, especially admitting it to someone like you, whose been in a very long relationship. I know how to hook up but I know next to nothing about dating.”

He can’t look at her and he kind of expects her to leave. Kind of wishes she would so he could go crawl in a hole in peace. “Jeonghan.” He looks up reluctantly and is terribly confused when she’s smirking and her eyes look a little chaotic. “Ask me again.”

Jeonghan’s brain shuts off like someone’s pulled the power cord to it. All thoughts flicker out. “What?” It comes out more like a hiss. 

But she’s still blinking her pretty eyes at him and now she’s nodding encouragingly. “We can prove them wrong, easy. Ask me again.”

He shakes his head, hoping it’ll help him make sense of this. “You want to help me win a bet by pretending to date me.” 

She shrugs. “Sure. I have a little experience, so I can help make it convincing.” 

He knows she’s trying to make a joke about Seokmin, but he feels like he might pass out. “Why would you do that? What do you get out of it? And what about Minghao? Seokmin? What about my horrible reputation?”

“I care very little about your reputation actually,” she says firmly. “We’d have to establish some ground rules anyway if you want some image rehabilitation out of this. Seokmin is a non-issue because I don’t want anything to do with him anymore, and I’m positive that things with Minghao won’t be going anywhere. Besides, I kind of hate Mingyu. I’d like to make him eat his words.”

After a beat, Jeonghan barks a short laugh in disbelief. “You’re insane.” It’s not an insult because he’s beginning to smile. 

Y/N sticks her hand out to him across the table, a satisfied smirk across her face. He likes the mischief in her eyes. It’s actually a huge turn on. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Now he’s wearing a huge grin. His hand encapsulates hers and they shake. “I’m Jeonghan. Nice to meet you. Would you like to go on a date with me?”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 8.5: 007- Peña, Agent Peña

Summary: After Javi's surprise on the Peña ranch, you had already had the best night of your life. Little did you know, your night was just beginning.

Word Count: 4.9K (This is as short as it's ever gonna get, this is just who I am)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up), creampie, praise (oh boy, does Javi tell you what a good job you're doing), semi-public nudity?? (not really, but you'll see!!), mentions of eating/food, mentions of alcohol, mentions of loss of a parent, you and Javi being absolute goofballs and being lovesick idiots

A/N: SO. I finished Chapter 8 and went to go walk my dog, and the song "Would That I" by Hozier came on, and it 100% is the inspiration behind this mini chapter. I literally came up with the idea for this chapter and wrote it in less than 24 hours because Javi and Osita live in my head rent free at all times being the cutest two idiots to ever exist. Enjoy this fun lil bit, it's honestly probably my favorite thing that I've written for this series so far!!!

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“I’m not sure if cold, post sex and first I love you’s is the way that your dad intended us to eat these enchiladas, but holy shit are they delicious.” You and Javi laughed, finishing the last bites of the enchiladas verdes Chucho had packed for the both of you. It probably would have made more sense to eat dinner almost an hour ago when Javi had first taken you out to watch the sunset in the back of his truck, but, no offense to Chucho’s enchiladas, having the most romantic sex of your life followed by Javi telling you that he loved you for the first time seemed to take higher priority to you. 

“These ones are actually pretty good, I will give him that. Thank God he’s finally starting to get better at cooking, a few months ago his food was practically inedible.” Javi shook his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand as gathered both of your cleared paper plates and forks, tossing them into the empty paper bag Chucho had sent them with. 

“Actually? I didn’t know he had come such a long way in his cooking career in such a short time.” You snickered, pulling some of the blankets laying at the edge of the truck bed over you as you scooted yourself closer to Javi, laying your head against his chest as you snuggled next to him. Pulling you closer, Javi wrapped his arm around you, fingers tracing gentle circles along the back of his sweatshirt you were now wearing. 

“Actually. He never cooked until my mom died. One day he called me while I was still in Colombia and told me he had found one of my mom’s recipe books and was gonna teach himself how to cook. When I came home, he insisted on making me dinner every night so he could show off whatever he was learning. I ate a lot of sandwiches after he fell asleep the first few months I was home.” 

“Well despite the terrible food you had to eat, that’s actually really sweet. Glad I came around when I did so I only have to reap the benefits of his good cooking and not suffer along with you.” You giggled as he squeezed you before giving you a playful shake wrapped in his arms. “Can you cook at all, or is this a warning that you’re gonna subject me to your awful cooking too?” 

“I can cook enough. Not a good cook by any means, but definitely not my Pops a few months ago. Can do more than Kraft Mac and Cheese, I’ll tell you that much.” He smirked, poking fun at the first meal you had made. You sat up, giving him the biggest stink face you could muster without bursting into laughter.

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, don’t act like you wouldn’t have eaten an entire second pot if I hadn’t made one for you, Mr. Literally Will Literally Eat Anything Under The Sun In World Record Time.” 

“If I seem to remember correctly, you weren’t doing a lot of complaining after I ate, Osita.” He winked at you as you nudged your elbow into his side before he grabbed you, rolling you over and playfully wrestling you into the pile of pillows and blankets beneath you. “C’mere, Hermosa.” He wrapped his arms around you as you giggled and squirmed beneath him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grasp. You kicked your feet as he kissed at your neck, his mustache ticking you with each peck of his lips. Using all your might, you were able to roll over on top of him, straddling his lap as he lay on his back, breaking free of his grasp.

“Can’t get me that easy, Peña. Wrestling was the only way I got anything from my brothers for the first ten years of my life.” You smirked as you leaned down to kiss him as his fingertips gripped into your hips, pulling you further on to his lap. 

“Could think of worse ways to lose a wrestling match.” Javi’s face smug as he gestured to how you were sitting on top of him, letting out a quiet groan as you started to grind into his lap, feeling him already half hard beneath you. “Careful, Hermosa. Not gonna be so nice if you’re gonna try to play dirty.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to make the next move. 

Still bent over him, you kissed up his neck and jaw before nipping at his ear. “Last time I checked, you liked it when I played dirty.” Your whispers left jaw slack, pressing up into you, his dick already straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Fuck me.” He murmured under his breath as you began to grind harder into his crotch. “You wanna play dirty, baby? I can play fuckin’ dirty.” You could see the lust filled in the dark pool of his eyes, biting down on your lip, already feeling the slick pooling between your legs with each sway of your hips. “You already wet for me, baby?” 

This man read you like a book- like he had every fucking page memorized. “Mmmhhhmm.” You nodded, feeling how soaked the fabric of your sweatpants already was as you felt your clit rub deliciously against Javi’s dick, hard and heavy underneath you. 

“I know you are, dirty girl. Want me to touch you baby? Want me to make you come before I fuck that perfect pussy again?” You nodded again, frantically shaking your head yes at his filthy words as you worked yourself against his length. He laughed to himself, shaking his head as he watched how blissed out you already were rubbing against him. “Too bad.” 

You paused, shooting him a confused look. “What do you mean, too bad?” 

“You know exactly what I mean. You wanna play dirty, I will too. You wanna come? You get yourself off like this.” He gave you a subtle nod of his head, gesturing to how you were sitting on top of his lap. 

“Are you serious? Javi, c’mon, please.” You rolled your eyes at him as you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to play off how desperate you already were for him. 

“Rules are rules baby. Fight dirty, play dirty. C’mon pretty girl, I know how needy you are, how wet that pretty pussy is for me.” He mewled as he toyed with the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers brushing against your skin. He dug his fingers into your hips, slowly pushing them back and forth against his lap, encouraging you to pick back up your pace brushing up against his dick with every motion. “There you go, hermosa. That’s my girl. Just like that, baby.” He praised as you found yourself rubbing harder and harder against him, slick coating your thighs. With his length, it wasn’t hard to feel how big he was, making it easy to find a sweet spot that brushed up against your sensitive bundle of nerves as you rocked your hips back  and forth over him. 

“Javiiiii, fuck.” You whined, feeling the heat build at the base of your spine as your clit rubbed harder and harder on his covered cock. 

“That’s it, Osita. Doing so good for me, baby. God, you look so fucking pretty riding me like that, C’mon, I know you’re close sweetheart.” His praise had you climbing towards your high, each time you ground your hips into him had you closer and closer to coming undone. His name fell from your lips, moaning as he was gripping your hips again pushing you deeper into him. 

“Javi, I’m so close. Fuck, fuck fuckkkkkk.” You whimpered as you felt the euphoria rush through you, gushing, feeling your pussy throb from the intensity of your orgasm. You slumped into him, face falling on to his chest as you caught your breath. 

“Such a good girl, Osita. My good fucking girl. Did so good for me baby.” He whispered in your ear as hand his hands along your body, trembling at his touch. “Still want me to fuck you, dirty girl?” 

“Yes, holy shit, yes.” You moaned. “Please, I need you so bad Javi.” He helped you pull your sweatpants down, kicking them off your feet as you straddled back over Javi, sitting on top of his thighs. Slipping your fingers under his waistband, you pushed the pants down, revealing his dick, already red, precum leaking from its tip, leaving a stain on his sweatpants. You lifted yourself up, slowly sinking down on his length, each inch splitting you open with the sweetest stretch. Even without his fingers to warm you up, you were so wet that you took him easily, feeling yourself bottom out on his cock as Javi let out an audible groan. His hands reached around, giving you a light smack on your ass before his fingers kneaded into your flesh. You began to raise yourself up and down along his length, swirling your hips as your hands tugged at the hem of his sweatshirt that you were wearing, ready to take it off. His hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could get any further. 

“Keep it on. Fuck, I love seeing you in my clothes.” He bit down on his lip as you nodded, rubbing your hands up and down his chest as you threw your head back, drunk on the way his dick felt hitting against that sweet spot inside you. The hair around his base rubbed against your clit, making you whine as you picked up your pace. “Jesus Hermosa, fuck me. Taking me so well. My sweet girl.” His voice was thick and raspy between his heavy breaths, his eyes glued on your every move as you rode him. 

Suddenly, you felt him shift. Sitting up with his back pushed up against the truck, he wrapped his arms around you pulling you in so you were chest to chest, foreheads pressed against each other. You could feel him thrust up into you, his cock punching that magical spot that made the heat at the base of your spine creep up your back. “Javi, fuck baby, you feel so good. Fuckkk.” You tugged at his thick curls, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of his sweet and spicy cologne clinging to his sweatshirt. 

“I know, hermosa, I know. Fuck, you’re so wet and tight, baby. Gonna give me one more? Soak my dick before I fuck you full of me again?” You wrapped your legs around his waist, digging your fingers into his back as you felt yourself snap, screaming his name as pleasure ran through every inch of you. You could feel how tight you were clenching around his cock as you came, his thrusts pounding deeper and faster into you. It didn’t take long for him to meet his own end, only needing a few more pumps before you felt his seed spill into you, leaking down your thighs and into his lap as you slumped into each other. 

“Fuck, Osita.” He whispered between his labored breathing, lifting his head off your shoulder, smiling at your blissed out face. “Jesus, I fucking love you.” 

“I love you too, Jav. Super romantic with your dick still in me and your cum dripping down my legs.” You giggled, still sitting in his lap. 

“It’s fucking hot, is what it is. Fuck me, you’re so sexy. What the fuck did I ever do to deserve such a beautiful woman who fucking loves me like you?” 

“God, you’re so sweet. Get your dick out of me before I start crying again, you menace.” You both laughed as you shifted off of him, grimacing at the mess you had left behind in Javi’s lap. “Do you have any towels, or leftover napkins? Sorry, I made a fucking mess. So much for those showers before we left.” 

Javi paused for a moment before a sly grin crept across his face. “Ostia, can you swim?

You raised an eyebrow at him, very confused by his question, considering you were surrounded by a gigantic, grassy field. “What? Yes, of course I can swim? Why are you asking me that? How is knowing if I can swim helpful right now?”  

His smile turned giddy, smirking at you as he shimmied his sweatpants back over his legs. “C’mon, get in the truck.” He slid himself off the back of the truck bed, standing up and outstretching his hand toward you. You quickly pulled your sweatpants back on too, following behind him as he helped you out of the truck and picked you up to put you in the passenger seat. 

“Javi, what the hell are we doing? Are you gonna go throw me in a trough or something? Listen, I love those cows, but I am not gonna be happy if you toss me into a bucket full of dirty cow spit water.” You crossed your arms at him, waiting for a response. 

“You’ll see.” He winked at you before shutting your door, hopping over to the driver’s side and starting up the car. 

“You’re lucky I love you.” You grumbled, still crossing his arms at him. He reached over the center console, giving you a quick kiss before pulling away and shifting the truck into drive. 

“I’m a very lucky man, indeed.” You finally shifted out of your playfully grumpy demeanor, melting as Javi stared at you, his sweet, puppy dog eyes making your heart explode every time they landed on you. You turned up the radio as Javi pulled away, heading the opposite direction that you came from, his headlights shining on a thick patch of trees at the end of one of the pastures. Driving a little deeper into the wooded area, Javi put the car in park, leaving you even more confused than when you left. He smiled at you as he shut off the ignition, hopping out the door before coming around to your side, helping you out of the car. 

“God, I thought driving me out to the middle of the field was bad, but taking me out into the woods in the pitch black? You really never are beating these serial killer allegations, I’m afraid.” 

“You’re the worst, do you know that?” Javi shook his head as he grabbed your hand, pulling you along with him as he began to walk through the trees. 

“I’m just saying! Listen, if you really wanted- Hey! Hey! Put me down!” You squealed as Javi picked you up, flinging you over his shoulder as you pounded your fists against his back, kicking and giggling with each step he took. God, was he strong. He carried you like it was nothing, laughing to himself as he watched you try to wriggle your way out of his fireman hold. Letting out a huff of defeat, you slumped further into him, staring at the ground as he took each step. 

“At least I have a good view of your ass from here.” You snickered as he continued walking. 

“You really like my butt, don’t you?” He laughed, rustling you in his grasp, still flung over his shoulder. 

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you are built like a God, Javier Peña. You’re very much proving your point right now carrying my fat ass through the woods.” 

He stopped, setting you down so you were facing towards him, placing his strong hand under your chin before tilting it up towards him. You gazed up at him, a surprisingly serious look spread across his face. “Hey. I love your ass. I love your body. Every curve, every single bit of you. Okay?”  

“Okay.” You softly replied, pulling you in tighter as he kissed the top of your head. “So are you gonna tell me where the hell we’re going, or are you just gonna keep carrying me through the woods?” 

“Turn around.” He nodded his head, gesturing behind you. As you spun around, you saw the moonlight sparkle off ripples of the pond in front of you. Rocks and tall grass surrounded the edges, water from a small stream flowing from behind the reeds into the pond. An old, worn wooden dock sat at the end, hovering over the first few feet out into the water. You turned back around to look at Javi, now smirking at your pleasant surprise with his most recent mystery. “I was out here every day as a kid in the summer. Nothing much, but it was deep enough to swim in. Haven’t been back here since high school, probably.”

“Is this where you’d take all the ladies to woo them with your swimming skills?” You joked, giving Javi a nudge as he stared around the pond. 

“No.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Just me and my friends, sometimes my cousins when they came over, if I was lucky.” 

“Well, I feel very honored to be the first lucky woman to get to see this secret pond.” You replied, slipping your sweatpants off your waist, leaving your bottom half exposed. Javi’s jaw dropped for the second time today watching you strip yourself of your clothes. “What?” You looked at him as your sweatshirt came next, dropping in a pile next to your pants, leaving you fully naked in front of him. “Aren’t we getting in?” You tilted your head at the pond, smirking at Javi who was now speechless. 

“You sure?” He said, gulping as he looked you up and down, your soft skin glowing in the moonlight. 

“Would I be standing here naked if I wasn’t?” You shrugged your shoulders as you raised an eyebrow at him. “You gonna swim in your sweats or am I gonna keep standing here like a naked idiot waiting for you?” Before you could say anything else, Javi’s clothes were on the ground next to yours, leaving you both bare, hidden amongst the secluded trees. This time, you grabbed his hand, running as you pulled him to the end of the dock, abruptly pausing as you got to the edge. “Are there like, weird things in here? It’s deep enough to jump in, right?” 

“Hermosa, just get in, you’re fine.” 

“Okay, but like-” 

“Osita, get in or I’m gonna push you in.”  

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

“You know I fucking will.” 

“Ugh okay, okay! Just promise me-” 

“1…” 

“Javi, wait-” 

“2…” 

“I’m being serious, don’t you do it! Javier Jesús Peña, I swear to God-” 

“3!” 

Before you could finish, Javi had his arms wrapped around your waist, swinging you back and forth, throwing you over the edge of the dock, limbs flailing as you splashed into the water. You peeked your head up, running your hands over your face as you watched Javi laughing hysterically. You flung your hand against the water, trying your best to splash him as he still stood at the edge thoroughly amused with himself. 

“I hate you, I hope you know that.” You grumbled, splashing him again. “Hey, wait, where are you going?” You shouted as you watched Javi turn around, making his way off the dock. It wasn’t long before you regretted asking the question, as Javi quickly turned around, getting a running start as he launched himself off the edge, drenching you as he drove into the water, making waves that splashed against you upon his entrance. You swam there for a moment, waiting for his head to pop up somewhere next to you, when suddenly, you felt something wrap around your ankle, making you absolutely screech at the top of your lungs. You swam as fast as you could back to the edge of the dock, clinging to the edge as you heard more hysterical laughter behind you, turning around to see Javi cackling to himself as you panted breathlessly, waiting for your heart rate to return to a semi-normal pace. 

“Holy shit, I didn’t think I was gonna scare you that bad, Osita.” He came down from his laughter, looking over at you hanging from the wooden planks still trying to catch your breath. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay?” He swam closer to you, now seeming like he felt a little remorse for what he had done. 

You took a few more deep breaths before letting go of the dock, looking back at him. Now only an arms’ length away from you, you swam full force towards Javi, wrapping your body around his, trying to wrestle him in the water. “You are an absolute jerk, you know that?” You grunted between your giggles as Javi grabbed you back, spinning you as you thrashed in the water, splashing it in his face before he grabbed your face to kiss him. Your legs locked around Javi’s hips, arms wrapping around his neck as his slipped behind your back, pulling you closer, feeling weightless in the water. He drew away for a moment, taking one of his hands to caress your face, rubbing his thumb along your jaw. 

“I forgive you, I guess.” You smiled as you sat there for a moment, taking in every detail of his face. His messy wet hair, his chocolate brown eyes, the way his mustache shifted above his lips as he smiled, everything about him that made you love him even more than you thought you already could. The way he looked back at you made you feel like there wasn’t anyone else in the world who could ever love you more. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi.” 

He brought you in closer, placing another gentle kiss on your lips. He pulled away again, this time with a look of panic washing over his face.

“What? Are you okay?” 

 “Was that your foot?” 

“My feet are wrapped around your waist?” You looked at him curiously. 

Trying his best to keep calm, Javi swam you both closer and closer to the shore, still carrying you with him as you stepped back on to land. This time, it was your turn to laugh at him, suddenly realizing why he had gotten out so quickly. “Not big and brave now, huh?” 

“At least I didn’t scream like you.” 

“Oh shut up.” You giggled as he set you back down, now sopping wet and shivering next to your pile of clothes. “Any way to explain to your dad why the hell we’re both coming back soaking wet?” You grimaced as you started to pull your sweatshirt over your wet body.

“We’re not.” His face smug as he followed suit opting to only put on his sweatpants, leaving him shirtless as you both headed back through the trees. 

“So…. What? You’re just gonna ask your dad to close his eyes and ignore us when we come back inside?” You raised an eyebrow in confusion looking up at Javi as he reached down to grab your hand as you walked. 

“No. To be honest, Pops is probably already passed out in front of the TV, but of course, you can’t walk through the front door without going past him. We’ll just sneak in through my bedroom window and he’ll be none the wiser.” 

You stopped for a second before laughing at him, continuing to walk as you shook your head. “Sneak in? What are we, 16? I know you said you’ve never brought any girls down here before, but I have a very hard time believing this is the first time you’ve snuck a girl into your room, Javier Peña.” 

“Only a few times.” He looked down at the ground sheepishly as you squeezed his hand. 

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Jav. Wouldn’t be my first time sneaking in either.” You admitted, your cheeks turning slightly red at your admission. 

“Really?” He perked up. “You don’t strike me as the type, but do tell.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You just seem like such a rule follower, maybe it’s the teacher in you.” He shrugged as you rolled your eyes. “What’d ya do?” 

“Fair, I guess. I was 17. One of my friends was having a party at her parents house while they were on vacation, and being the rule follower that I am, I asked my parents and they said no. I was so mad because it felt like they always let my brothers go out and have fun and I never got to. So, once everyone was asleep, I snuck out, rode my bike all the way to my friends house, got drunk out of my mind, which is part of the reason why I can never drink vodka again, and by some miracle, was able to ride my bike back home. When I came in through the side door of the garage, my brother David was in there, already waiting for me. He told me that he could hear me singing at the top of my lungs halfway down the block. He took pity on me and helped my drunk ass up to bed and never told my parents. He’s always been my favorite brother. Then, I pretended to have the stomach flu for the next 3 days to cover up for my hangover.” You both laughed as you finished your walk up to the truck, Javi opening the passenger door for you as you stepped in. 

“No vodka, duly noted. You trying to tell me your singing gets even more obnoxious when you’re drunk?” He smiled as you buckled yourself in. 

“You love my singing, don’t lie. But um… maybe… Just a little. You’ll just have to deal with my sober serenading for now, sorry.” You smirked at him as you shrugged your shoulders, Javi laughing to himself as he shut the door behind you. 

……….. 

As promised, you spent the rest of the ride to the ranch windows down, blaring “Go Your Own Way” from Fleetwood Mac, noting that even though Javi had put on the album not long ago, you were a bit distracted to actually listen to any of the songs. If it was anyone else, Javi would have rather been caught dead than singing along to anything, regardless of song, album or artist. But lucky for him, you weren’t just anyone. You were his everything. Javi was sad when you’re singing came to an end, lowering the music as you pulled up to the house, trying to remain as quiet as possible to not wake up his dad. 

“Too bad you don’t have the James Bond soundtrack in your car, I feel like we’re on some sort of secret mission right now.” You whispered, trying to close the truck door behind you as quietly as possible. 

“C’mon, you dork.” He replied, taking you by the hand and leading you around the edge of his house. You both tiptoed along the wood siding of the house, Javi leading you before stopping under one of the windows, slightly cracked open, pushing out of its frame. “Alright, if I lift you up, can you push it the rest of the way open and climb in?” 

“Sure thing, Agent Peña. What number do you want to be, since you clearly can’t be 007, that one’s already taken. I don’t think they’ll let you be the next James Bond with that ‘stache.” You mumbled, stepping in front of Javi as he got ready to lift you up. 

“Will you just get in the window, please?” He scoffed, squeezing his hands on your hips, getting ready to hoist you. 

“Fine, fine, just say you wanna be lame and move on. I’m ready.” As Javi shot you up, your fingers wrapped around the edge of the windowsill, humming to yourself as you shimmied yourself in. 

“Bada boommmm, bada booommmmm, bahnanah.”  

“Are you seriously singing the James Bond theme song right now?” Javi looked up at the window as you pushed open the rest of the pane, now looking down at him. 

“Yeah, at least one of us should have a little fun with this. You need my help getting in?” 

He hadn’t even answered your question before he was already halfway through the window, pulling himself through and landing on the floor.  

“Showoff.” You grumbled to yourself as he closed the window behind him. Wet and uncomfortable in your clothes, you stripped them off of you, drying yourself off from the towel you had left on Javi’s bed from your shower earlier. Javi did the same, shedding his sweatpants and throwing them next to yours before you both crawled under the covers, curling into each other. You pulled the comforter up over you, nestling against the warmth of Javi’s body. Laying your head on Javi’s chest, Javi ran his fingers through the ends of your hair, still damp from your swim. It wasn’t until you hit the bed that you realized just how exhausted you were, barely keeping your eyes open, your eyelids heavy with sleep.

“Javi?” You asked, looking up at him, your voice low and soft, letting out a quiet yawn. 

“Yes, Osita?” He peered down at you, fingers still twisting through your locks. 

“You really love me?” 

He chuckled warmly, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. “I really do. Con todo mí corazón. (With all my heart.) Get some sleep, Hermosa, I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

He paused, waiting for you to respond. 

“Hermosa?”  

The only thing he heard after that were your sweet snores humming against his chest, you already sound asleep in his arms. He gave you one more kiss on the head before pulling you closer, shutting his eyes as he whispered one last goodnight.  “Buenas noches, Osita. Soy un hombre afortunado. Tienes todo mí corazón para siempre. Te amo.” (Good night, Osita. I’m a lucky man. You have all of my heart, forever. I love you.)

..........

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

[cjsinkythoughts]

Not Your Captain

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1695

Warnings: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Spoilers!!!!! Lots of Angst in this one, guys, lotta feels, some Fluff to counterbalance it, but mostly Angst, Cursing

A/N: This is Part Two to my previous FATWS writing, His Only Contact. FATWS SERIES STERLIST HERE! This one is from Reader’s perspective and gives you a bit more about Reader’s backstory. There will be multiple parts coming out in the next day or two based just on this new episode because damn. It was loaded!  Due to this and my workload this past week, I haven’t been able to post the first chapter of my College!AU, Erased From the Stars, but I promise it’s coming! This’ll be my main focus for the weekend though! Expect more parts in the next 24 hours! I’ll be making a masterlist for this particular project in that time, too! Taglists are open! Please contact me if you want to be tagged! Thank you and please enjoy, loves! (Not beta’d, so sorry for mistakes!)

AGAIN: SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The moment you saw it on TV, you knew you had to get to Bucky. You weren’t planning on leaving until the next day, but there was no way you weren’t going. So you caught the first plane you could from the base you were staying at.

You’re feelings were all over the place. Steve had been your best friend for more than the past decade. You were the one there when he first woke up. You were the one to help him get situated. You were the one to help him whenever he needed, to go over to his little place in DC when he was having problems, like the time he thought he was having an asthma attack when it was an anxiety attack or when you had to help him find a new phone after he accidentally broke his.

You were that close to falling in love with him. But life went the other way and, in a weird twist of fate, almost as if the universe wanted to spare you of the heartbreak it knew would come if you gave your heart to the dashing captain, you ended up tripping over your own feet for someone else.

Someone you would never tell.

He was the last thing you had left of Steve and you couldn’t ruin that because of your stupid feelings. And you couldn’t ruin the relationship you had now because it was working. He trusted you, more than anyone else. He trusted you because Steve trusted you and you wouldn’t dare break that trust.

You just hoped, with everything going down in relation to the shield - to his legacy - that you’d be able to keep that promise you made to yourself.

You were in front of his door early in the morning - around four - hesitating to knock. It didn’t take long for him to respond the moment your fist did meet the door.

He looked…tired. You wished, oh how you wished, that you could do more. Anything more. He insisted you helped him plenty already; he claimed he never had nightmares when you were by his side. But it wasn’t enough. Not for what he’d been through. You felt as though you were merely putting a bandaid over a bullet wound.

His chocolate locks were short, above his ears. You could remember how hesitant yet eager he was about doing it. It was difficult to not cut his ear off because he kept moving in anticipation. You would know: you cut it. Those blue eyes that made you trip in the first place were outlined by thick lashes, dark ebony bags beneath them, making the azure pop. He was shirtless, as he usually was when sleeping (or at least trying to sleep), his dog tags resting against his sternum. 

You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping. His eyes were bloodshot as if he was watching TV for too long and his hair was less messy than it would be if he actually slept.

The moment his eyes found yours, his plump, chapped lips turned up into the grin he reserved for you and he was pulling you in. Your reaction was instantaneous, your arms slipping around his waist, your chin resting on his shoulder as he found home in the crook of your neck.

He was touch deprived. You knew this, but you never brought it up. Especially considering you were one of the only people he touched willingly. You didn’t want him thinking he was broken, more so than he thought he was already. And you definitely didn’t want to push him into fixing himself. So you didn’t tell him, even though you were pretty sure he knew, and you just let him take the lead. 

Sometimes it meant he grabbed your hand in large crowds, or tucked you under his arm when he was threatened. Other times it meant laying his head in your lap when he was tired late at night, or a soft hug in greeting.

Hands slowly tracing his spine, fingers dancing up and down his back, you gave a small smile when you felt him practically purring in your embrace. You could never decide if he was more puppy or kitten. You used to make jokes about the three of them, Steve, Bucky, and Sam, being like a puppy, kitten, and bird that you had to reluctantly pet sit for a friend. You would give almost anything to be joking around like that with them when you went to visit Bucky in Wakanda with Steve.

“Buck?”

He hummed. You didn’t want to pull back, you wanted to stay connected with him for as long as possible, but you had to talk. You didn’t want to talk about it, because that would make it more real, but you had to. You had to.

“Have you seen the news recently?”

His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pulling down. “What happened? Is it Wanda?”

You looked down the hall, your lips pressed together tightly, before nodding inside. “We have to talk.”

He nodded, stepping back and pulling you inside. Seeing the makeshift bed on the floor against the far edge of the sofa made you inwardly sigh, but you didn’t say anything about it. Steve was the same way at first.

“Is she okay? Did you find her? Where-”

“It’s not Wanda.” Turning, you faced him, trying to control your own anger at the situation, knowing it wouldn’t help him any. “It’s…it’s about Steve.”

Those spectacularly blue eyes narrowed, bottom lip being sucked in between his teeth. “What about Steve?”

You gestured for him to come closer, holding out your hand in offering. He took it and followed you as you led him to the couch. A cleared throat and a deep breath later found you gently explaining what happened to him. That the government had taken back the shield and had given it to someone else. A ‘hero just for America’. A ‘new Captain America’.

You could see his features harden with every word, his jaw ticking dangerously, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. You squeezed his hand as you finished. “He’s got meetings and stuff with senators and governors. They’re taking him on a tour this week. They-they want me to meet him, considering I’m the last of the original seven. Active on Earth, at least.”

The tears that started forming in his eyes made you swallow your own emotions down thickly. He didn’t need your hatred of this wannabe to fuel his own. He needed your support and comfort. He needed to know you’d be by his side through this.

“Are you?”

You blinked, not expecting his first words to be that question. “Am I what?”

“Going to meet with him?”

“I-I…” You stopped talking, knowing that if you continued you’d end up ranting about how he wasn’t your captain. How he could never be your captain. Debating answers, you decided on a simple, blunt reply. “No.”

“Why…” 

Running your thumb over his knuckles, you leaned over slowly to press a chaste kiss to his bare skin and blood shoulder. “Take your time. Collect your thoughts.”

He responded to your words by taking a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut, his jaw so tight you feared he might chip his teeth. It was a tense minute before he said anything, the room being filled with his harsh breathing. “You said he gave them the shield.”

“What?”

“Yesterday. You told me he gave up the shield. They put it in the Smithsonian. But you just said they took it from him.”

“He did give it to them, but-”

“Why?” His eyes snapped open, his features twisting into ones of frustration and resentment. “Why’d he give it to them?”

You shook your head, knowing Sam didn’t mean for any of that to happen. He had called you a few weeks ago to ask about your opinion on the matter. You told him that Steve trusted him, and you trusted Steve, so if Sam thought that was the right thing to do…you trusted him. “It’s not Sam’s fault. Don’t be mad-”

“Don’t be mad?! Don’t be mad?!” Bucky shot up, ripping his hand away from yours, making you bite your lip and hang your head as he paced in front of you. “Steve gave it to him! And he just gives it away like he’s regifting a shitty frisbee as a Christmas present! And you don’t want me to be mad?! Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?!”

Cringing at the use of your name, which you rarely hear fall from his lips, especially in vexation like just then, you looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Bucky, I get it. I do. I’m mad, too. I’m-I’m furious. But you can’t blame Sam. Please. He just - he’s trying, Buck. Just like me. Just like you. We’re all trying.”

Bucky’s shoulders fell as he stared at you, eyes darting from feature to feature as he studied your face. Before you could say anything else, he was on the floor in front of you, in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face pressed into your stomach.

You could tell he was holding something back - something big - but you wouldn’t push him. You never did. Displaying feelings was always hard for him, even in the early 1900’s; Steve used to tell you stories when you were looking for him after the fiasco in DC. Bucky grew up being the oldest of four and the only boy. On top of that, his best friend was a scrawny, stubborn, punching bag of a boy. According to Stevie, neither of them really learned how to cope or how to deal with feelings. And it showed. Boy, did it show.

Instead of getting on him and asking what was wrong and begging for him to talk to you, your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, as you sat back to make the position more comfortable for him.

“Stay with me. I need you.”

You leaned down to press a soft kiss to his head, nodding into his hair. “I’ll stay. For as long as you need me, Buckaroo.”

Taglist (OPEN):

@happygoreading​, @thatsdarwinism​, @satellitespidey​

[nonokoko13]

Child!reader being adopted by spy x family characters Pt. 2

As I said in the previous part, these adoption headcanons are really specific, including your hypothetical pronouns and name; these two are extra so you can imagine yourself with your name and desired gender. You can ask for less specific headcanons if you want too. Part 1 here

Enjoy!

Sylvia Sherwood

How you met

She carries the responsibility of WISE, she needs to be committed to it. More than ever now that the peace was threatened every day by those who wanted war to arise again

She missed her family, but she overcame it. Just like the HQ she had to be impenetrable

At least, that's what she thought

Because right in front of her there was the question which answers she wanted to hear. A kid.

It would be normal to see one if she wasn't at the HQ

It didn't help no one knew there was a kid there until you spoke up

The camera system didn't record you and there wasn't any entrance to the agency that had been forced. You weren't any employee's kid either

After scolding them and order to search your parents she met you again

"Hello little one. May I ask you how did you get in here?"

You smiled, seeming to have been waiting her to ask

"Because I like to play and explore! And I'm really good at hide and seek"

Sylvia raised an eyebrow. No matter how well someone was good at hiding there was no way you could break into the HQ; it sounded surrealistic

"But how did you find this place?"

"Because it was easy to find"

"Don't you think you could end bad breaking into unknown places?"

"If I don't know what isthis place how I'd know that?"

Fair enough

That conversation wasn't going anywhere, yet she was angrier with the security staff than you. You didn't look worried though

You gave her an idea

"Do you want to play with me?"

Both entered in the nearest police station, she talked with the officers before telling you to count until 1000 while she was going to hide. You started the count facing a wall

She felt bad, but there were some traffickers she had to catch before they made the exchange

She was following their car; everything fine until she believed to see a small hand greeting her from the car's trunk

She returned to the police station to find out that moments later of her departure you disappeared without anyone realizing. She went to the point where the delivery would be made

Outside the abandoned warehouse there was no signal that you were there until she saw you getting out from under the car on the other side

Something caused a shooting that would make the police come and caught her at any moment. The bands kept shooting at each other while you were behind a transport container

"What were you thinking?! I told you to stay with the police!"

"I'm sorry, I counted until I know, then I saw you following the car, so I followed too. But before they caught me I hid in there...I'm sorry..." You pulled out a walkie-talkie

"I got two from the police station. I left one in there so the others thought the guys of that car were betraying them, it should have worked to scape with no bad guys seeing us"

She was impressed. However, there was no time to ask where you learn that from

Analyzing the situation the principal scape was blocked, fortunately they hadn't noticed you yet so–

You pulled her shirt, pointing somewhere else

"Let's get out"

General headcanons

Sylvia was still surprised that your plan of exiting through a rear window she hadn't seen and walk away without hurry could work

She stopped walking to watch you smash the walkie-talkie and take out some matches to burn it

"Now they can't find footprints!"

The police may not get answers about it but she had many questions for you

She lied to you about the HQ, after the shooting her lie was on the floor. Thenceforth Sylvia's not able to tell if you were playing along and keeping her secret or you have no idea what's all about

You thought her name was Handler. When you knew she was called Sylvia Sherwood you pointed your hoody logo and say "S of Super, you're superman–Superwoman!"

That's how she begun to be mistaken with an endearing mother and her son. She was superwoman and you "kid", because you said that's how you were called, along with child, shrimp, demon...

"That's unacceptable". She handed you lists of names to choose, unfortunately no one convinced you

It wasn't until you two went to a jewelry store that you found the name

The casual way you break in HQ when you want still frustrates her, how do you do it?? You don't see big deal though

Fullmetal lady didn't remember how tough was motherhood

Anyone would freak out if they found out about spies. Yet there you are, admiring flying guys in underpants

Sylvia asked you about your family, but you always tell the same: you lived with dad until he left you with a woman that he said was your mom

The Handler found out your father is a repeat offender, currently on a maximum security prison in another country. Both him and the woman without offspring legally

"Please, don't tell me one of his criminal records is jailbreaking"

The informant doubted "Actually, that's the main one"

"..."

The Forgers

Scenario where it's up to both of them to adopt you. To keep Loid's mental sanity safe it will be independent of the timeline where Yor has a kid on her own, feel free to imagine both kids being Anya's siblings at the same time. You can ask me to include that idea if I write more about this

How you met

As I said before Twilight wouldn't adopt anyone due his job, only one kid for Operation Strix and that was Anya. For now Yor didn't want more kids, she loves Anya and that's enough for them

Not for Anya. She wanted a little sibling

All started talking with Becky when Damian mentioned his brother. Back at home she brought the topic and neither Pa or Ma were giving her an answer of where babies come from

That's when she begun to feel like being a sister. Any plan helped her to convince her parents though

Anya remembered something Mr Henderson told them. "If you want something, take it into your own hands"

And she took it too seriously

Next day Anya and Bond disappeared, she was in the dogs park with Yor

While Mrs Forger panicked Anya had returned to the place she met Twilight

As the time passed the Forgers worried more. When they found Anya and Bond at their building's door they felt relieved

Your presence didn't make things better

They asked Anya where she had been and where did you come from. She said she adopted you

Of course Anya wasn't going to say she broke into an orphanage and took you

Loid's scolding made you cry

"Anya, we aren't adopting–"

"If she's not my sister I won't go to school ever again!!"

"Just for a trial period" that's what Loid hoped

General headcanons

Loid thought babies were easy because it's unnecessary (more impossible) communication with a living being that can't talk; after all babies only have basic needs. He was wrong

It would be easier if you could talk. Why are you crying? You have eaten! Are you sad? Cold? You dislike him?

Yor is not better either. Because her parents died when Yuri was a kid Yor didn't have experience with changing diapers, or anything related with babies

She was more scared than Loid to the point she didn't want to hold you. She broke Yuri's ribs with a hug when he was a toddler, what if she kills you with few contact?

In less than 24 hours you already had a crib and all kinds of things a baby would need. However, having three bedrooms and parents sleeping in separate rooms meant all your things ended in Anya's room

You cried at night until they discovered you calmed down when Anya let you a plushie to hug

She can't wait for the day pa and ma share bed to take back her bedroom

The second night Anya had an idea

Ma is scared of being your mom, solution? Leave you in her bed while Yor is asleep imagining that would work

Thanks God Yor doesn't move much when sleeping. On the other hand Yor is a light sleeper due not being used to sleep with someone so she woke up minutes later

She almost jump out of the bed, realizing that would make you cry made her contain. You groaned, did she wake you up? Yor wasn't sure of holding you, instead she laid down again and approached you to her chest

Seeing you so peaceful by her side melted her, thinking about it you looked a bit like her and Loid.. She blushed at the embarrassing thought

Bold of them to not imagine that's why Anya chose you

In the morning Loid discovered what happened and had a little words with Anya during breakfast before she went to school

Yor went to work and he decided to take a day off from his work to spend the morning with you. The Handler said the first days you should see them to recognize faces

Walks with Bond, buying toys, trying to teach you sign language...Normal stuff

Loid is glad you don't do anything but sleep and eat, except your obsession with munching. When you first kissed Yor he found it normal until you munched her cheek and now you do that to everyone; probably you're teething

Yor found it really cute, but you shouldn't go kissing and chewing cheeks. Anya thinks is funny just don't try to chew her hair again please

Another problem came with names. Loid was going through a list of 850 names in alphabetical order, meanings included; Yor didn't take it to the extreme

"Hum, what about Rose? I think it's a cute name, I mean it's both decision and I'm not good with names Loid–"

Welcome to the family Rose

A spy, an assassin, a telepath and... Well, a baby. Seems like a good mix

Yor Briar

As we know Twilight only would adopt for Operation Strix's sake. Yor became mother by marrying Loid, but what if she had already a kid before being Mrs Forger?

Inspired by this post of @say-seira

How you met

Long ago before Twilight adopted the identity of Loid Forger, the Briars moved to a flat in Berlint

While the eldest sibling had recently become an adult Yuri was only a kid, Yor decided to move to the city so he had nearer his school. It was possible due her proper salary as Thorn Princess

This change would make her job easier too. She had a new client which death could pay Yuri's entrance to a good university

There was a politician who negotiated with terrorists, helping them to get into Ostania and providing them with weapons in exchange to gain good propaganda abroad and getting rid of competition

Knowing this was enough to make Yor's blood boil. He deserved to die, she was sure of it

Struggling with the security around him, Yor finally killed the target without leaving trace

The only inconvenience was a bad injury made by a bullet that she received. After removing the bullet the wound got worse

She went to the hospital to avoid an infection. In the waiting room she met a kind lady, Yor swore that she had seen her before

The woman was scared, but Yor reassured her she will wait her

While Yor was attended the girl was taken to another room. As she promised, Yor waited in the hall after her wound was treated; with a buttoned medical gown on because she didn't want to attract more attention due the bandaged wound in sight

Time passed and many people enter and exit from the room, but she didn't. A nurse carrying something mistook her for one of the staff and scolded her for standing there

"Here, take the baby to the nursery"

"Me? But— wait! What about the woman? Is she okay?"

From afar she heard the answer, but before Yor could explain the error the woman had left. She was shocked, how? She seemed fine

Against her will the dark-haired looked at the lump she was holding: rosy cheeks babbling in dreams, you were in peace

Her shock grew when she saw you shared the username that the man she killed had. That's why the woman was familiar: she was the politician's daughter

Yor searched someone who hand the baby when she recognized the doctor that guided the woman to the room, he was talking with a masked nurse

The fact they went to a private place and maintained their voices low made her suspect

"Did you take care of the mother?" the nurse asked

"Yes, they got ahead of us with her father but I think they will pay us anyway. When they found it was a medical negligence we'll be far from here"

Yor understood they were assassins as well, probably paid by a rival. Luckily they hadn't seen her yet

"Heh, do you they will pay more if we got rid of the baby?"

Yor left the hospital with you, unsure of what to do. Did you have more relatives? The widowed politician didn't have more kids, and your mother came alone. What if they wanted to kill the rest of the family?

A small hand grabbed hers, and every fear disappeared. Looking at each other, she knew you were safer with her. Perhaps it was only guilt or sympathy, but she would try

General headcanons

The moment Yuri saw Yor holding you was in disbelief. Yor said she found you in the streets and he believed it

At first he tried to convince her sister to leave you in a orphanage but once scolding was enough to cease

Still disliking you for the first months. It took some time until he saw you like one of his family

Yuri helped, although they had a rough time because you refused to eat Yor's purees. Your endurance might grew up to make you the only person who can eat her food without bleeding but it doesn't mean you like its flavor

She viewed you as a sibling until you were two, being called mom made Yor too happy to correct you. Yuri was just Yuri, you never feel like using formalities with him or addressing "Uncle" everytime you talked

Yor decided to let your belongings, it was better that way. When you were older, and only if you wanted, she would tell you the truth

She's bad with names, Rose was the only name she could think of but you're a boy. Yor's parents loved that Yuri and her had matching names, therefore you would be the sweet addition to it

The only name I could think of is Yuu because it's gender neutral and means "you" sorry

During the first year of your life she didn't try to hide the blood of her clothes from you. Yuri never suspected either and you wouldn't remember it when you grow up

Your lack of childhood amnesia was something she didn't have in count. Not that she knows you know anyway

Yor has been training you since you were able to walk, if she wasn't there when you needed at least you would be ready to defend yourself. Proud to say you're her strong boy

That said, if the assassins that tried to killed you found were you lived it's something you ignore. Being the protective mother Yor is they could be dead by now

Six years later, it was still Yor and you against the world, with Yuri being the only paternal figure you had. Before one day she met a man and everything changed

She said he will help her by accompanying her to a party so Yuri stopped worrying about her. She said it would be one night, and the next morning you woke up with Yor waiting to talk with you

In part she accepted because of you; you passed the Eden exam before knowing you needed a dad for it. That requisite seemed stupid for you, as you reassured her you could go to any other school; now you would be accepted into the best school!

You agreed and started packing. What else you could do? The decision was made before you were asked anyway, and you didn't want to argue with your mom because she was doing it for your future too

Of course it affected you. No matter how nice they were it was a huge change; in one day you had to move to a new place which didn't feel like home and live with strangers who you'll have to share mom with isn't easy

Anya was nervous too, but for different reasons. She was so excited to meet her soon-to-be sibling! For her, who was an orphan last week, having a pa, a ma and a friend to play with was great

Her expectations went down when she read your mind. You didn't think bad of them, but excited wasn't the word to describe your emotional state either

Loid may not be good at understanding children, but it was clear for him you wasn't comfortable. For him would be weirder if you didn't seem affected at all

On the contrary, Yor seemed cool with all of this to you. Even without any idea of how to be a wife or mother for Anya she enjoyed her time as Forger, which confused you a bit

Yor is happier, not only because she didn't have to worry about the SSS or Yuri anymore. They make her happier, it's just matter of time she could fall for Loid and have a baby that was her own, real kid

Being sure Yor loves you and your new family want you to feel welcomed doesn't make disappear the feelings you carry with. Still, if mom is happy you prefer to keep it to yourself and try to maker her smile too

If it wasn't because Yuri hates the idea of her sister hiding her marriage for a year and sympathized your situation he would have laughed at the irony when you told him during your uncle-nephew walk the next day of his meeting with "Loiloi"

He doesn't know they got married before you attended school so he assumed you had been holding it for a long time. He passed his fingers through your hair

"I understand it's difficult, but I'll be for you whenever you need me"

+ Honorable mention to compensate you for the mild ansgt without warning

Daybreak

We don't know much about him but I included this dork for fun

Thinking about "Daybreak" and "parenthood" makes anyone's mind stopped working

Mainly because it's difficult to say which one would be the child

Not "How you met headcanons" because he wouldn't be able to adopt to begin with

From what we saw in chapter 27 he seems to live alone, depending on his amazing spy career to afford pork steak for dinner. So he must not live too good given that after his first mission he was fired

If he had a child, it would be likely because of a previous relationship he had and didn't end well

He didn't adopt you. You're his biological kid, the only not adopted of this gang

Sorry we can't choose our family good luck ig

Not necessarily ended bad, even remaining as friends, your mother took a different path and is happily married with another man

If she knew he wanted to be a spy either thought "it's a joke" or *sigh*

She was who brought money in the relationship, now you live with her and your step-dad but at the beginning you didn't want to

Daybreak talked with you and promised you could visit each other and even live with him when he could afford it

They don't get it

Who would take care of him? The idea of living on his own was frightening to you

Imagine being father and is your kid who worries about whether pops know how to pay taxes without mom

You took after him in terms of appearance. Any signal of intelligence was from your mother

Average smart but surely smarter than him

Probably he thanked God that you were a boy. He will love whatever you are but he was relieved of saving himself of buying female products when you were on that time of the month and guide you through puberty

As much as he says to be a charming man he's not good with women either so

Your name is Sunny. Guess who chose it

Probably you see him more on weekends than during the week

Until you showed him Spy Wars he didn't have no idea that existed such good series

Of course not cooler than the legend he is but Daybreak jokes about how reading that and seeing your cool pops in action would make you half as good spy as he is someday

Quite sad is that your common sense along with the things you see on TV are enough to be better spy material

You try to watch it with him to see if he learns something

Unsure of what you'll be in the future but in the mean time you had fun watching cartoons and liking kids stuff like dinosaurs and skateboard

Current status: Busy with your first year at school and getting him out of trouble

[nextdoorharry]

imaaaaagine a world like that..can you? part 2

-

in which y/n sees a text, harry lies to her, and wants her back.

a/n: ahhhh!!! i feel like the first part of this story was a fan favorite out of all my other pieces! so thank you thank you thank you!!! hope you enjoy!

here’s the link to part 1 if you haven’t read it already!

-

you were always a light sleeper. you would wake up to a pillow falling on the floor, slight wind coming from outside, or even a phone that’s on silent vibrate. that’s the case when you woke up to a text vibration sound coming from a phone. tired eyes, you wake from your current position and see a love island episode playing. on auto-play of course because you already remember watching the previous episode a few days prior. you guess you and harry fell asleep during the new one you two were watching. with tired eyes, you squint to see harry sleeping peacefully. you miss this, you thought. sitting there in silence and taking in how harry used to sleep, slight snores, mouth a little open. except he’d be right next to you and not across.

your thoughts interrupted you hear the text buzz again. you grab what you assume to be your phone, since you and harry both have simple, plain black cases.

wrong.

it wasn’t your phone. it was harry’s.

you realized this when you read the text displayed on the lock screen, from olivia wilde.

I miss you, and our casual hookups. Can’t stop thinking about it. it read. you wanted to breakdown and cry right there.

you felt all kinds of emotions; confused, upset, angry, and jealous. why wouldn’t harry tell me this part? no i understand that, but why would he make it seem like he did not enjoy it at all? clearly he’s comfortable doing this stunt if he was hooking up with her. all these thoughts running through your head as you quietly get up, turn off the tv, and go upstairs to your bedroom. leaving harry to sleep on the couch.

you feel tears rolling down your face as you get into bed, quiet sobs erupting from your chest. you loved him. you still love him. you were glad when harry said that it’s all pr. you were glad when he made it seem like its all fake. but now, it was all a lie. sure it was a pr stunt, but harry and olivia seemed to take advantage of that and use that to get intimate. he clearly wasn’t as annoyed as he made to seem about the situation since he got to hookup with her. you may be jealous, but you don’t care that he didn’t mention something private like that to you, because he didn’t need to, it’s his business. but what stings is that he made it seem like it was clear he wasn’t actually into olivia.

-

you wake up to hear the coffee machine on, and the sound of something being cut against the cutting board. harry’s still here. you felt weird facing him now that you know he lied to you. even though you two aren’t in a relationship anymore, he has never lied to you. ever. nonetheless, you get up and proceed with your morning routine, then head downstairs.

“mornin,’ sleep well?” harry smiles as he sees you enter the kitchen. his eyebrows furrow a bit as you come closer to his vision. he couldn’t help but notice your eyes look a bit puffier than usual than how it normally looks when you’ve just woken up. he knows its either allergies or that you cried.

you reply with a slight “mhm” and reach for the cupboard to get glasses.

the thought of you crying makes him worried. it always did. you rarely cried during your relationship with him. only when it was a close individual’s funeral, or tears of laughter. or the day you two argued and he broke it off with you.

that’s why he hates seeing you in your state now. because if you were crying, all he could picture is the day you two broke up.

“y/n, y’good? your eyes look puffier than usual, love.” harry asks cautiously, trying to read your face, which refuses to make eye contact with him.

you were stood by the fridge, filling the glasses of water for the two of you when you replied, “m’good, just allergies. cat’s shedding season.” you say with a straight face, looking towards the glasses you’re filling. not wanting to look harry in the eyes. because all you can think about is how he was intimate with olivia, and how he lied. your stomach already turns at the thought.

“take the allergy meds that doctor prescribed you a while ago. remember it works wonders.” harry smiles, setting yours and his plate down on the table as you come and set the glasses down.

harry makes it so damn hard to hate him sometimes. the fact that he remembers the little things has you in awe. but no, not right now y/n.

“mhm, i’ll call in to get those refilled.” you lie through your teeth, acting as if the allergies were the reason for your current state, “thanks for breakfast by the way, y’didn’t have to. my fault for waking up later than usual.” you say sitting down.

harry sitting across from you, senses a different feel to how you were yesterday. you seem a bit off now, and you were never like this in the mornings. he supposes you did have a late night and filled with allergies bothering you, so you’re probably not in the best mood.

he shrugs it off, “no need, i overstayed my visit on accident, and its the least i can do after you helped me with my little uh, situation,” harry giggles, sticking a strawberry in his mouth.

you give him a glare as he looks down. his situation he says. you wanted to laugh in his face.

it’s a silent breakfast from there. harry in his own thoughts thinking about last night. oh, how much he missed you. how much he wanted to cuddle with you. be sleeping in bed with you. waking up to your face. soft kisses throughout. he misses it so much. he senses and hopes you miss him too. he had a good feeling last night. and that’s when he decides he needs to say something. if he doesn’t speak now, he never will. now’s the perfect time. after his tour and new album, he’ll be taking a break. a break from everything. a break to spend time with family, friends, live privately, and hopefully settle down with you. now’s the perfect time to reconcile with you and put the offer out on the table.

“..so,” harry begins. you look up and see harry putting his utensils down, wiping his mouth with a napkin, getting ready to speak. “after the tour ends, i’ll be releasing my album, do some promo for that, and then i’ll be on a hiatus..for however long i’d want it to be..”

you can’t just have all feelings for him disappear in less than 24 hours. so when he said that, you can’t lie to yourself and not feel some happiness. yet, he still better not say what you think he’s gonna say. you’re still mad at him y/n. don’t do this to yourself.

“so what are you saying..” you hum.

“god y/n, you know what i’m about to say.” harry purses his lips and looks you in the eye, hands reaching out for yours, “i’m ready to settle down with you, if you’d have me back that is.” he says with a little smile and gleaming eyes.

the days prior from yesterday of you finding out, you would’ve have said yes. you would have breathed out a finally, and had a sense of relief.

but now it’s going to be a different outcome. he took advantage of your kindness and you giving him advice. he took advantage of your time. maybe dramatic, but that’s how you see it.

you’re mad. that slight happiness you got when he said he was taking a break is gone.

“s’not even like we have to be boyfriend and girlfriend for another period of time! we can go straight to fiancés! we already have trust in each other, i mean we only broke up because of my work. nothing else was to be fixed in the relationship! i’ll put a ring on it right now if i have’ta!”

harry rambling, saying some bullshit about trust, causes you to interrupt him, “harry-“ he still rambles but now about having kids. “stop.” you say, voice grew a little louder and more stern.

harry pauses, wide-eyed. sure he didn’t know how you were even feeling about this, but he was sure the love you two have was still there.

“trust?” you laugh in disbelief. “first off, you’re acting like we took a break. a halt in our relationship until you were ready to settle down. you should know that’s not the case. i’ve been patient throughout our relationship far too long for me to be waiting around on your terms.”

“y/n i-“ he interrupts.

“no, i’m talking. this whole ‘trust’ thing is gone. i’m sorry but last night i woke up in the living room to a text notification. i assumed it was my phone, and since we have the same phone cases, i happened to pick yours up and saw a text from who’s supposed to be your ‘pr stunt’? she’s wanting to hook up with you? again? jesus harry, you should know why i’m mad and upset that you’re saying you want me now. even before you said all this, right after seeing that text, i was mad because you lied to me. look, you of course didn’t have to share that you were intimate with her; but don’t make it seem as if you’re not into her at all. and making it seem like it’s the poor girl’s fault. acting as if she’s a nuisance wanting to be intimate or affectionate, cause clearly you wanted her as well.” you end your speech with a sigh, shaking your head. you take a sip of water, mouth dry from the little speech you said. you wait for him to come up with whatever amusing thing he can say to make it not sound as bad as it is.

harry’s startled. doesn’t know what to say. he saw the text when he woke up, but he told her that it wasn’t for him anymore, that he just wanted you, and it was nice in the moment, but they are after all, strictly just business buddies with a platonic friendship. she understood, she seemed a bit mad, but harry didn’t care. he just wanted to make sure there’s nothing in his way to get you back, and that those hookups he had with her were in the past. he’s going to try to fix this.

you speak up again in a calmer tone, “you didn’t care about my feelings,”

his face turns red. nerves rattling him.

“y/n i feel awful about it, know what i mean i-“

you cut him off. “you made me look really dumb, harry.” you say while lightly nodding your head in order to get him to understand.

he begins to speak again. “look i’ll be honest. i should’ve mentioned it yesterday, and m’sorry for that. i will admit, there was a physical attraction with her at the beginning of everything, and since we were broken up-“

you correct him, “are, broken up.”

his heart hurts when you say that, he nods, “yes, are broken up, i didn’t want to live with any regrets. i felt it was better to just experiment and to take advantage of being in the stunt, seeing if there’s a spark,” he takes a breath. “i would’ve regretted if i didn’t and it was better to do it at the time because i didn’t know if you would even take me back once i came home,” he keeps fidgeting with his feet under the table, nervous on what your response will be; but hopefully understanding. because you always were.

wrong. boy was he wrong.

“so..you still did it with the intention of coming back home, hoping to get back with me?” you caught him. “harry..what are you even saying?”

he gulped. fuck. this looks bad. he didn’t think things through, he thought. “look, you didn’t feel anything rushing back last night? everything that we had, and built together?” face even more red.

“yeah and then today..you slapped me across the face with a lie and embarrassed me.” you spat. “what’s wrong with you? you don’t have any respect for me.” shaking your head in disappointment. “and its such a let down considering if you hadn’t hooked up with her, i would’ve hopped right into your arms right when you said you wanted to settle.”

he regrets everything and anything right when you said those words. why did he hook up with her? god did he really think y/n was going to just be waiting around? of course he thought so. he always did. and that’s why you two were broken up.

he sighed, shaking his head as well, as he’s disappointed in himself. he was about to speak, but you beat him to it. “i’m not mad that you hooked up with her, i’m mad that you don’t have any respect for me. i’m mad about your intentions behind it. and the fact that you lied to me making it seem like olivia is the bad guy saying, ‘s’like she enjoys it!’” you repeat his words he said to last night, when he made it seem like he wasn’t into her. “and just the fact that i gave you meaningful advice because i care about you, once again, you embarrassed me. i feel dumb, harry.”

he feels dumb too.

you still didn’t let him speak, instead, you let him leave.

“something needs to change, harry. until then, please leave.” you say, getting up from the table walking hurriedly upstairs, eyes beginning to water, but you feeling satisfied that you listened to your own advice you gave to harry: stand your ground.

-

a/n: man really thought y/n would be waiting around for her. smh.

hope you guys enjoyed this part!! still deciding on whether to make a part 3 or not! don’t really know which way i want to go about it.

[20rubixcubes]

enhypen as baristas

maknae line x gn!reader (comedy, fluff, mild angst)

~1.2k words ea (headcanons)

warnings: cursing

a/n: i just wrote this for funsies, please be mindful that there is heavy swearing in these headcanons (particularly in ni-ki’s part), so if that isn’t your taste, perhaps skip this one! other than that, the rest of this is pretty chill, so i hope you enjoy my shitposting. oh, and lmk if you like this enough to want part two with the hyung line 👀 just maybe i’ll do it

sunoo

was only recently employed as an afternoon shift employee and was both shocked and distressed after discovering the cafe didnt have an instagram

“what do you MEAN you dont have instagram??? how do we post selfies???” “sunoo we sell coffee” “NO ONE WANTS COFFEE JUNGWON THEY WANT CUTE BARISTAS”

starts an instagram for the cafe and takes aesthetic pictures of his latte art

his selfies get way more likes though

speaking of his latte art, he masters the skill like a week in and everyone else is incredibly jealous

their jealousy wears off when jungwon tells him that he has to start training the new apprentices

pretends he forgot how to do it for like a week but it hurts his pride so he begrudgingly agrees to train the apprentices instead

in his free time he can be found snapping pictures around the shop, eventually expanding to taking pictures of the others too

“sunghoon stop moving you look cute and i need to take a photo” “sunoo im holding hot milk” “does it look like i care beauty is pain sweetie”

other than that, he sometimes sits in the booths to snack on muffins and do his homework since he only comes in to the shop for about an hour during his school lunch break and on the weekends

you meet sunoo after applying for an apprenticeship, wanting to get a job before you finish high school and start college

seen as though jungwon looks like the boss, you approach him, nervous for your first shift

“i’m here for the apprenticeship program?” “oh yeah! one second!”

he trots off to the back room, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle of the cafe

“SUNOO GET OFF JAY YOU HAVE AN APPRENTICE TO TRAIN” “*gasp* YOU MADE ME SMUDGE HIS LIPSTICK I'M QUITTING” “NO YOURE NOT GET OUT THERE RIGHT NOW”

the yelling pauses before who you presume is sunoo stomps through the back room door, a scowl on his face

he spots you, groaning loudly “are you the apprentice?”

“yes” you say meekly, guilty for seeming to ruin his shift

he gestures you to follow him behind the counter, pulling an apron out from under the sink and shoving it to your chest

its clear that hes pissed, yanking his tools out from the cupboards as you tie your apron behind your back quietly

“have you made coffee before?” “only instant coffee” “oh fantastic”

he seems to be getting more irritated by the minute before he takes a deep breath and starts directing you around the machines

“to do the art, you angle the mug like this and draw with the milk, but it wont show until it reaches the top so dont go crazy”

as if its nothing, he demonstrates by drawing a perfect swan in the milk, setting the latte down and dusting his hands off

“wow… thats amazing” “i know right? no one here appreciates me enough” “they should! this is the best i’ve ever seen”

he grins at your compliment, nodding with satisfaction and sending a wave of relief over you as you notice he looks less angry with you now

“um… im sorry if i interrupted whatever you were doing before” “oh, that? i was just doing jay’s makeup” “you like makeup? me too! i’ve never seen a boy interested in it though, thats really cool” you smile genuinely at him as he blinks in surprise

“really? you think its cool?” “definitely!”

you watch the gears turn in his head before he smiles widely, seeming to have come to some kind of revelation as he nods

“i like you.”

your cheeks heat up immediately, but before you can say anything in return, he starts calling out for jungwon, leaning over the counter

“JUNGWOOON, CAN WE HAVE THIS ONE?”

“well thats up to them” he looks up from the table hes wiping down, adjusting his apron as he walks over to the counter

“so youre all finished with the course? i hope sunoo wasnt too much for you”

“i wasnt! anyways, youre employed, okay?” “sunoo stop theyre just an apprentice”

he groans loudly, irritated once more as he whips his head to you

“you have to work here, ok? i said so, so come back and apply or i’ll be mad!”

you laugh at his antics and smile “i’ll see what i can do”

after jungwon pries sunoo off of your arm, you return your apron and leave the shop with a wave

“YOU BETTER COME BACK!” is the last thing you hear as you step out onto the street, the bell ringing to signal your exit

a week later, you return to the shop, slightly anxious that your new friend(?) might have forgotten about you

but this is quickly washed away when you hear a high pitched squeal from the counter

“JUNGWON! HURRY THE FUCK UP AND GET THE FORMS THEYRE HERE”

you laugh as you approach the counter, a teasing tone on your voice

“are you supposed to be talking to your boss like that?” “whats he gonna do? fire me? im the only one who can make coffee in this place” “true”

soon enough, jungwon comes out of his hiding place, his hands clasped together

“im really sorry to ask this but please, you have to work here, sunoo hasnt shut up about you all week and i dont know if i can stand him anymore, i’ll even pay you extra please dear god”

you give sunoo a look, only receiving an innocent smile and puppy eyes back

“sure, i’ll take the job!”

jungwon sighs in relief as sunoo begins jumping up and down, yelling something about having his own little baby to take care around the shop as you groan, covering your blushing face

once you have your hours established (sunoo made you take the same as all of his, but you did the nights instead of the afternoons on the weekends, to his displeasure), you get straight to working

… well, sort of

it was hard to get work done with sunoo pestering you around the clock

“you think im cute right?” “yes sunoo” “even though i have bags under my eyes? “yes sunoo” “you promise?” “yes sunoo” “good”

admittedly he is slightly of help when it comes to the more fiddly parts of making coffee, but every other second of the day he seems to be flirting nonstop

“can i kiss you?” “no” “why not” “sunoo we’ve been over this” “BEING AT WORK ISNT A VALID EXCUSE”

worn down after his incessant yelling all day, you find yourself snapping faster than usual

“we’re not even dating, sunoo! why would i kiss you!? just stop playing with my feelings already!”

for the first time since you’ve known him, sunoo goes quiet

“why not?”

“what are you talking about now sunoo?” “why arent we dating”

now its your turn to go quiet

“do you not like me?” “what? no, sunoo-” before you can reason with him, you watch him quickly rush away from you around the counter, slamming the break room door behind him with tears in his eyes

cursing to yourself, you ensure there are no customers to serve before quickly darting after him

after looking around a bit, you hear sniffling from the supply closet and knock on the door quietly

“sunoo?” “leave me alone!”

you sigh, taking a step back and turning on your heel to face the opposite direction, running a hand through your hair as you think

you spot a dog bed at your feet, suddenly remembering that jake usually keeps his dog supplies covered in dog hair in the closet

“sunoo arent you allergic to dogs?”

“... *sniffle* y-yeah”

after you persuade him to come out by mentioning that his face is going to get all puffy, he steps out, eyes glued to the floor as he looks away from you in shame

placing a hand on his shoulder, you speak to him softly

“sunoo, look at me”

he does, hesitantly, his eyes red and watery and, as you said, puffy and inflamed

despite this, you smile

“i do like you back”

his eyes start watering again, your heart skipping a beat in fear that you had said something wrong

“e-even if my face is all puffy and gross?” his voice wobbles, the tears filling his eyes giving him a sense of vulnerability as you sigh

“yes, even if your face is all puffy and gross”

he smiles at that, shutting his eyes cutely as you press a kiss to his cheek

“and theres your kiss”

he whines “i was supposed to do that!”

“you can do it after we finish work, okay?” “WORK STILL ISNT A VALID EXCUSE…. but maybe today just because i need to ice my face” “yeah you really should, can you even see?” “no not at all” “great”

jungwon

the previous manager left suddenly and jungwon was given a semi-forced promotion as he was the only employee with at least half of a brain cell

poor boy is stressed 24/7

doesnt get paid enough for this

“hey jungwon we ran out out of coffee bea-” “I ORDERED NEW ONES FOUR HOURS AGO NOW SHUT UP IM TRYING TO MAKE SURE THE BOSS DOESNT FIND JAKE’S DOG SHELTER IN THE SUPPLY CLOSET”

goes through hell every day just to make sure the others dont burn the cafe down

is supposed to be on the morning shift but he stays until the afternoon

in his rare moments of downtime, he likes to go around and water the hanging plants around the shop

is that one vine where the mom listens to nicki minaj for the first time and screams “no” over and over whenever ni-ki gets control of the cafe music

“RIKI NISHIMURA WHAT IS THAT ON THE SPEAKERS” “ITS OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR ARIANA GRANDE” “TURN IT OFF THIS IS NOT PG13” “SHUT THE FUCK UP GRANDPA”

is only 16 but acts like a 32-year-old father going through a midlife crisis

lifts boxes of supplies all day yet his joints are famously brittle

“hey jungwon did you hear glass shattering too?” “sorry jay that was my back” “you need to invest in physical therapy” “maybe if i wasnt paying for property damage every other week 😊”

you meet jungwon when you drop into the cafe for a croissant and a coffee before your class starts

usually you come at night maybe an hour before closing so you had never seen him before, but here you were watching this cute but clearly stressed boy scramble around the shop carrying boxes of supplies to the back

trying not to be creepy, you sigh, turning back to your phone after watching him for a solid five minutes straight

as you do, you hear a crash coming from what you assume is the supply closet followed by a disgruntled groan

pausing, looking around at the other customers typing away at their laptops and waiting for another staff member to go check on the boy, you stand up as you discern that he must be the only one working and hesitantly go to see if he’s okay

“hello? are you okay?” you peer through the door, your eyes widening at the sight of him rubbing his head with a wince on his features, supplies strewn around him at his feet and a box knocked over beside him

“ah… um, yes, i’m okay, sorry if i disturbed you with that noise…” he smiles bashfully, pulling himself back onto his feet

“do you need help with all of that stuff?”

he opens his mouth to protest, not wanting to have to ask for help from a customer, but after seeing the amount of crap off of the shelves, he realises that there is no way in hell he’s going to be able to clean all of it up alone before his shift ends

“um… is that okay?” his cheeks flush with embarrassment as you smile

“sure!”

over the next couple of hours you two establish a little system of bagging the spilt supplies and passes them to eachother to put in boxes, chatting never ceasing as you discover that you actually have a lot of things in common

“since you work here, what’s your favourite kind of coffee?” “i like lattes… i cant stand bitter things” “me too! my friend drinks espressos though” “ditch them”

you also find out that he started being homeschooled after becoming the manager as he doesnt have time to attend normal school

the both of you find yourselves laughing nonstop, having fun in eachother’s company

so much so that you end up late for school

“oh shit! i completely missed my first class”

guilty for making you late, he offers to take you

“i can take you?” “you drive?” “well….. not exactly”

once sunoo and ni-ki arrive to care for the shop, he takes you out to the car park, pulling a spare helmet out of his backpack and securing it on your head before giving your head a pat as he gets onto his scooter

“you look cute” “i look like a bug” “a cute bug”

once you get to school, face red after having to hold onto him the entire time, you hop off and pass him the helmet with a shy smile

“thanks for driving me” you mutter, brushing off imaginary dirt from your shirt as you do your best to avoid eye contact, your face still flushed and heart racing

is it possible to develop a crush on someone this quickly???

jungwon is so cute that he makes it possible, you surmise

“of course” he mirrors your nervous smile, a blush finding its way to his own cheeks

as you bow and spin on your heel to start walking inside, he stops you

“wait!”

“what is it?” you turn to him, your heart still thundering against your ribcage at the fond expression he has plastered on his features

“actually… can i pick you up? after school?”

when you pause, your face growing hotter and hotter, he begins to sputter

“i-i’m really sorry, its fine if not! that was way too forward, i just really like you and- oh god that was even more forward- um-” “okay” “yeah i’m sorry that was a stupid questio- wait, what?”

before he can say anything else, your smile widens

“i’ll see you later, okay? don’t be late!” you wave, skipping into the building with a fluffy feeling in your chest

with an awkward wave, jungwon watches you leave, his mouth wide open in shock before a grin replaces his expression

getting back into his seat, the lovestruck smile never leaving his face as he drives off, he begins to count down the minutes until he gets to see you again

ni-ki

works the afternoon shift

technically an apprentice but he gets paid and has been there forever so basically an employee at this point

or he would be if he ever actually made coffee

he sits with the work phone all morning and chooses the music

perpetually dancing to 7 rings by ariana grande (look up his cover. youre welcome in advance)

jungwon and jay scream at him to at least do the mopping to which he complies, but not without performing a whole ass concert with it

once they saw him twirl and dip the mop

eventually they just told him to go back to curating the music because he was scaring customers away and they were losing business

he was horrible at cleaning anyway

“hey jungwon i think i got window cleaner in your plant” “im firing you” “i dont even go here” “STOP QUOTING MEAN GIRLS AND FIX THE DAMAGE YOUVE CAUSED”

you meet ni-ki while youre drinking your coffee at a booth and he plays your favourite obscure indie song so you have to compliment his taste and get to talking

he plays your favourite songs whenever youre in the shop and audibly hisses at anyone who tries to change it

makes choreography to said songs at home and tries to impress you by casually belting it out by your booth

when you compliment his dancing and ask how long hes been practicing that choreography hes all like “oh hahaha it was just casual freestyle super easy peasy”

(hes been practicing for two weeks)

thought he was being super obvious by doing these things but apparently nOT because you have not caught the hint at all and hes getting impatient

asks for advice from the others begrudgingly

“give them flowers” “jay thats so boring” “do you want to use one of my dogs? everyone loves dogs” “wtf jake since when have you had more than one dog” “make them latte art with a heart on it” “sunoo ive literally never made a coffee in my life” “why dont you just ask them out like a normal perso-” “shut the fuck up grandpa thats so weird no one does that”

eventually he settles on sunoo’s idea of making you latte art and he embarks on his journey to make his first coffee

rather than focusing on the actual taste, sunoo tells him to just do whatever so that he can show him how to do the art

“why is it green ni-ki” “you said to do whatever” “and your first idea was to make poison? idk if this is the best idea if youre trying to ask this person out” “shut up and pass me the milk”

burns his hands on the steaming milk jug at least fifteen times and ends up with so many bandaids on his fingers

despite how stiff the bandages are on his hands, he eventually manages to make a sort-of legible heart

“it looks like africa” “have you ever had steamed milk poured on your eyes sunoo?”

poor ni-ki waits for you all day, his heart leaping every time the bell on the door rings only to roll his eyes when it isnt you

he even stays past his shift so youd better let him take you on a date or hes quitting

when you finally arrive he trips over the bucket at his feet he was using to clean and spills dirty water all over his pants

“omg ni-ki are you okay what happened” *five octaves higher* “NOTHING I'M COMPLETELY FINE WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT”

by the time he’s finished cleaning himself up (and by that i mean fixing his hair in the mirror for twenty minutes) he takes a deep breath and walks over to you, somewhat cold latte in hand

“um,” he clears his throat, his face growing red as he slides the mug towards you “i made this for you”

“aw thanks ni-ki! why is it green” “........its matcha?”

youre slightly suspicious but you look back to the mug and slowly realise that the “drawing” slightly resembles a heart, smiling a little bit to yourself

when you look back to him, youre a little confused as to why hes just standing there

“is something wrong?” you press the mug to your lips, taking a sip

“o-uh uh actually, i wanted to ask if… if you would uh maybe sort of go on a date with me”

you can only smile

“yes, but…”

his heart starts beating faster, watching you anxiously

you stand up, taking the notepad and pen from his apron pocket and scribbling your phone number

“only if you promise to learn how to make actual coffee” you wink, handing him the notepad and sauntering out of the shop

hes stood there dumbstruck, stars in his eyes at the slip of paper in his hand

but then he realises: he has a new mission

rushing to the back room, he slams the door open

“grandpa, i need you to teach me how to make coffee right now” “literally why do i pay you”

with your promise in mind, the others see him work more diligently at the counter than they ever have before

“wow youre actually working today?” “shut up i need to figure out how to do this butterfly before i pry my eyes out with a fork” “haha funny joke ni-” “did i stutter”

at the end of the week, he forces heeseung (the cafe’s best coffee maker) and sunoo (the cafe’s best latte artist) to judge his latte

“this is… surprisingly good” heeseung peers into the mug, smiling at the swan ni-ki created with the latte foam as sunoo grumbles “dont tell me im gonna have to start competing with this kid, it probably tastes gross” “it tastes amazing too” “im quitting”

with his coworkers’ notes in mind, he finally works up the nerve to send you a quick message telling you to come into the shop

when you arrive the next day, ni-ki greets you and immediately gets to work, making sure to stand as close as humanly possible to your booth so he can show off his newly acquired coffee making skills

with you only inches away, he does make a mistake and spill milk on his shirt after looking at you and not his hands for a second too long, but you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt when he sets the mug in front of you

“wow! this heart is perfect!”

you smile, looking up to him “did you seriously learn how to do latte art just so you could take me on a date?” “… y-yeah, and?”

you can only chuckle as you press the mug to your lips, readying yourself to drink liquid dirt…

“this is… really good!” you grin, taking another sip and putting the mug down on its saucer

“i think you’ve definitely earned yourself a date… or two”

at this news, ni-ki’s face lights up, shoving the urge to scream down his throat before nodding stiffly to try and contain his excitement with a strained “cool” escaping his lips

“are you okay ni-ki?” “yes just give me one second”

he quickly scrambles to the break room, a moment of silence wafting through the store before a shrill scream fills the air

eyes wide, you turn to jay, who had been manning the till, after hearing him burst into laughter

“what is he doing?”

“we told him the freezer was sound proof”

[court-of-abs]

Update on “Maybe Tomorrow” [Final Chapter; Chapter 17]

Hello, hello my ducklings. 

It’s been nearly two years since I’ve last been on Tumblr and well over that time since I’ve written anything for my Elorcan fanfic “Maybe Tomorrow.” I actually just finished up reading a Court of Silver Flames and I remembered this page existed. 

As you all might’ve guessed, I never did finish writing that last chapter, or the epilogue, even. And while I no longer intend to finish writing that last chapter now, I decided it would be fun to post what I had written so far as well as a bulleted list for the ideas I had for the epilogue. Please keep in mind two things: this was written over two years ago and I’m not letting myself attempt to edit it (although I did read through it quickly) and there is a potential trigger warning: this chapter covers themes of mental health, therapy, and topics related to it. I’ll also be adding this warning to the previous chapter, as I feel in hindsight I most definitely should’ve included it.

This community and these books were my everything in 2017-2018. I was going through a pretty tough time then, and I am so so happy to say I’m doing much better now despite everything going on in the world. I still keep up with each series to this day (I even cried the BIG tears when I finished Kingdom of Ash) and it will ALWAYS hold a special place in my heart. 

Enjoy!! Let me know what you guys think <3 I miss and love you all, and I hope you’re doing well.

~

Naitivity. To herself, to her problems, to the pain flowing through her veins every step she took. That was why Saturday night had affected her so much.

In the almost nine years since their death, Elide had never acknowledged what had happened. She’d never grieved, barely faltered- she got away with it by not thinking about it, not talking about it. By not accepting the cards the fate had handed her, by turning a blind eye, it became so much easier to pretend it didn’t happen. It became so much easier to pretend she hadn’t changed.

Elide knew now that she wasn’t being strong for it. She was just being naive.

Elide wrapped her arms around herself and leaned forward to rest her head on the steering wheel of her car. She breathed, deeply, taking in the muffled sounds of students walking towards the front of the school- their voices, their laughter.

She smiled, then, thinking about what today was.

Then she frowned, thinking about what today was. The elections and then…

Another breath. In and out, just like the therapist had told her. Elide reached for her school books and swung open the door of her car, stepping out into the heat. She just needed to focus on today, just today.

And then, with the support of her friends, those that cared about her, she’d focus on the next. And the next, and the next…

Elide made it all of three steps away from her car when she ran into Aelin, Lysandra, and Manon standing by the rear of her car, their arms crossed and faces tight.

Elide swallowed and reached for the words she’d been saying over and over in her head for the last 24 hours. They were on the tip of her tongue-

“Manon!” Lysandra’s shout was cut off by Manon barrelling into Elide, pulling her into one of the most suffocating bear hugs she’d ever received. It was exactly what she needed.

“You scared the ever-living daylights out of us” she said into Elide’s hair.

Elide leaned her head on Manon’s shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Manon shook her head, and Elide watched as Lysandra and Aelin took a few steps forward, readying to pull Manon away should Elide need them to.

“There’s no need to be sorry, but Jesus, Elide, you just… disappeared after Saturday night. No one could get in touch with you all of Sunday, not even Lorcan.” Elide froze at his name. She mumbled another “sorry” into Manon’s shoulder and gripped her harder so that she wouldn’t notice.

“All right, all right” Lysandra said as she gently pried Manon’s arms off of Elide. “Don’t smother her.”

Elide smiled at her. “It’s alright-” and then Lysandra was gripping her in another extremely tight bear hug.

“Hey!” Manon shouted, scowling at Lysandra.

“You had plenty of time with her, it’s my turn now.”

“I got less than a minute-”

“Ladies” Aelin said, stepping between them. “This is about Elide right now, not you.” Aelin stepped towards Lysandra and Lysandra took a step away. 

“Don’t even try, Aelin. You’ll get your turn in a minute.” Elide giggled as Aelin sighed and took a step back.

Lysandra smoothed down the hair on top of her head and said, “Do you want to tell us what happened- after Saturday, I mean. It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

Elide smiled up at her, at all of them, and took a small step forward- Lysandra reluctantly loosened her grip.

“It’s true,” Elide swallowed, “what Maeve said about my parents. That’s all true.” She wrapped her arms around herself, tighter, remembering what Dr. Ren had told her.

“I’ve spent the last nine or so years of my life… in denial. My parents, when they died, they were all I had. I was horrible at making friends, and when Vernon became my guardian, well, you might imagine why he didn’t exactly give me someone to talk to. The SDD tried to get me to talk, to acknowledge what had happened. They worked tirelessly to try and convince my uncle that I needed therapy but my uncle doesn’t really believe in mental illness, of any sort, and I… it was just too much for me,” Elide tried to meet all of their eyes as she talked but the bareness of the moment forced her eyes down to the pavement, “I didn’t talk for almost an entire year after they died. I had no outlet for the pain,” her voice cracked on the word, “the utter pain I was going through. Eventually I learned it was easier to shove it all down. Everyone said that since I was young I would quickly get past it and I took that as meaning that I had to quickly get past it. And so I did everything you’re not supposed to do when trying to grieve about the death of your loved ones.” 

Elide gestured a hand to all of them, “I pushed people away... and I let the mention of the most amazing parents in the world become a trigger for my concealed anxiety and grief. And after Saturday, I couldn’t push it all back down after Saturday. And so nine years of pent up… everything came tumbling out.”

None of them spoke for a moment.

Then: “You talked to one hell of a therapist yesterday, didn’t you,” Manon said. 

Elide let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, he set me straight.” Elide said, tracing the lines on one of her textbooks.

“So you’re okay?” Lysandra asked, wrapping her arms tentatively around Elide.

“No” Elide said, “I’m actually far from it. But …” Elide cleared her throat and hastily brushed away a fallen tear. “That’s okay. I know that.” 

“Good” Aelin said. She reached for Elide, then, waving off a pissed Lysandra. “We’re going to be right here while you get through all of it, Elide. Absolutely all of it.”

“Thank you” Elide said, gladly accepting her third bear hug of the day. “And I’m sorry about how I reacted on Saturday, it must have been so scary for all of you. I’m really, truly sorry-”

“Don’t apologize” Aelin said, smoothing down her hair. “You don’t need to. What Maeve did was the definition of malicious, and you didn’t hear it but everyone booed her off stage after Lorcan rushed you out of the room.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t disqualify her from the race after that,” Lysandra said, and then she grimaced. “Gods I can still remember the look on her face-”

“Lysandra” Manon warned, “we all know she’s a bitch, but we don’t need to debate how much of one she is right at this second.”

Lysandra looked down at her feet and mumbled, “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay, really” Elide said. “I don’t mind talking about how much of a bitch she is at all.”

“Oh thank the gods” Lysandra sighed, rushing over to Elide and grasping her hand. “Let’s all go sit down somewhere and discuss this. It’s going to be a lengthy conversation- there is so much bitchy-ness about her that you don’t even know about it.”

“Are we really doing this?” Manon said, raising a single brow. “Doesn’t that make us a bit petty?” A snort from Lysandra.

They all turned to Aelin, but Aelin just shrugged. “What Elide says, goes.”

Manon’s jaw twitched and then she threw up her hands. “What the hell.”

Elide giggled as the four of them linked arms and walked towards the school together. Manon had been right- she had talked to one hell of a shrink yesterday. But she hadn’t just helped her sift through the memories, figure out how to deal with the pain.

Lysandra cackled at something Manon said, and Aelin smiled back at them, unrestrained.

No, she’d also helped her realize how amazing her friends were. And that was best part of all.

~  

If he couldn’t find her before the end of the day- he didn’t know what he was going to do. He just had to talk to her. He just had to know if she was alright.

His feet pounded into the concrete of the school parking lot... (I’m sorry I stopped typing here)

Here’s how I originally outlined the chapter (you can see some changes for when I actually sat down and wrote it):

Chp 17 Summary

Monday morning- day of election results. Elide is a mess. She hasn’t talked to anyone since Saturday night: this includes Lorcan. At school she’s confronted by friends and they’re all worried about her. They make up- Elide opens up to them about it. Lorcan clears things up with Rowan in the parking lot, they walk towards the school together. Then Lorcan comes over and asks to speak with Elide alone- they talk, and Lorcan gives her a new backpack (green like the carpet in the library). Asks if she could take care of Hellas for him- she says yes. They walk into the school hand in hand, knowing what they are and what they could be would have to wait for now.

Chapter Specifics

Outside of School

Elide sitting in her car again, contemplating the weekend. Reflective of first chapter- when she’s sitting there, not sure how things are going to go. 

Walks towards the school in a daze. Aelin & Co waiting for her a few feet from the school. Everyone is tentative but then Manon comes running over and gives Elide a hug. It’s just what she needs.

Elide says she’s sorry and opens up to them about her thought. They all just tell her it’s not her fault for any of it and they’re sorry that happened to her.

Lorcan & Rowan Meeting

Lorcan walking towards Elide when Rowan steps in front of him. The two tersely talk 

Flashback scene of sorts about what Rowan did for him the night before (Cain trying to goad Lorcan into a fight of sorts and Rowan stepping in)

at the end of it the two shake hands and are on good terms again.

Lorcan walks over to Elide and asks to speak with her alone. Bell rings for class to start but Lorcan leads them down a trail to talk.

He’s awkward until Elide leans up and kisses him. She tells him thank you

He gives her the backpack. Elide opens it up to find a copy of A Court of Wings and Ruin, and the picture of her parents protruding from it. 

Lorcan says he wishes he could have made her happy like that. Elide says he did. In the short time they had, he did.

Lorcan asks her to take care of Hellas. She says of course.

Elide leans up and kisses him again and says that she’ll always care about him. And maybe in the future they’ll be something (make sure you don’t rush this!!)

Lorcan starts stuttering and Elide shakes her head. She explains that as much as she cares about him, she knows how much the long distance thing will wear down on them- and that he needs to be his own person when he comes back to her.

Outdoors speakers announce that Aelin and her team had won the election as they approach the school building.

Elide walks into the school with Lorcan, prepared for the day ahead. And the next. And then the next, and the next…

Epilogue

I actually don’t have any notes for this (I THOUGHT I DID I’M SORRY) but I think I had it so that they bump into each other at Terrasen University or something like that and they start as friends but eventually begin dating and then get married in the library and the last scene is them at their spot in the library in their wedding apparel just holding each other (because I’m sappy like that)

Thank you all, again. Writing this was a pleasure and I could not have asked for a better community and support group

- Abs

[noonmutter]

Kinky Questions, Go!! ALL 50! At least the ones you haven't gotten yet.

*knucklecrack*

1: Kitchen Counter, Couch, or on top of the dryer?

"Yes. If I gotta pick one, couch. Th' dryer's noisy an' I like bein' able t' hear th' other person.

2: Your last sexual encounter: Good or Bad and why:

Answered here!

3: A fictional person that you think would be good in bed:

(I actually don't know any ingame fiction to draw an answer from here, sorry. <.<)

4: Something that never fails to make you horny:

"Pullin' me int' you. Up, down, chest-t'-chest, back-t'-chest, whatever. Not often I get manhandled, y'ken?"

5: Where is one place you would never have sex:

"I mean, never say never, but somewhere it'd take some real convincin' t'get me t' do it? Th' meetin' space at th' center o' th' Dreamgrove. I'd sooner set my 'air on fire than fuck where th' statue o' Malorne might watch me, an' Remulos would not approve."

(Rest below the cut! Yes I did do all of them!)

6: The most awkward moment during a sexual experience was when:

"...Wakin' up in a pile o' people after an especially long bender, none of 'om I recognized, an' not one stitch o' clothin' anywhere in sight except fer a gnome-sized miniskirt. An' there were no gnomes in th' pile! "Days like tha' are why I don't fuck drunk anymore."

7: Weirdest thing that ever made you horny:

"Tenderizin' steak." Sigh. "Pretty sure it was th' smell o' th' raw meat, mostly.

8: What is the best way to sexually bind someone: Handcuffs, Rope, or Other [if other please explain]:

"With my bare 'ands, or with my teeth 'oldin' somethin' sensitive. Wolf's snout kin fit all th' way 'round most people's throats without actually bitin' down as long as I get th' canines all th' way across, an' as long as neither of us move too terribly much, it's great fun."

9: What is the fastest way to make you horny:

"Hook a finger in my collar an' pull me t' yer eye level. Trouble is, if we're not already pretty damn close an' y' start grabbin' at my collar, I might punch y'."

10: Top or bottom?

"Switch."

11: We were about to ____________ but then ______________ [example: we were about to have sex but then his mom walked in] "We were about t' sneak off t' start our 'oneymoon but then I tripped through a portal some jackass dropped in th' middle o' th' weddin' party an' 'ad t' fly all th' way back first.

12: Is one orgasm enough? Are multiple orgasms necessary?

"Sometimes it's enough, sometimes it's a start, sometimes it's not even th' point. Really depends on th' mood at th' moment, dunnit? I like t'go as many rounds as either of us kin stand, most o' th' time, but I def'nitely find plenty o' value in just one long, slow go tha' ends when it ends.

13: Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find:

His expression was less jovial than for most of these questions. "Th' collar I made for Vandy."

14: Weirdest nickname a significant other has ever called you:

"Squigglebird. Long story."

15: Two things you like [or dislike] about oral sex:

"Like th' noises it makes a person make--vocally, I mean--an' th' views it gives o' th' person I'm goin' down on an' th' person tha's goin' down on my. Don't like th' taste all tha' much, really 'ate some o' th' noises yer lips an' throat make if yer a li'l overzealous."

16: Weirdest sexual act some has performed [or tried to perform] on/with you:

"Li'l inflatable toy thingie in m' backside. Felt alright fer a while, cuz I mean it wasn't like it was th' first time I'd 'ad anythin' in there, but ah... she kept goin' past my willin'ness, an' it got pretty damn uncomfortable pretty damn fast. I might be willin' t' try it again but not without a lotta thought b'fore'and, an' not with my 'ands bound.

17: Have you ever tasted yourself? [If no, would you?] [If yes, what did you think?]

"Yeah." He shrugged. "Tasted like cum. Nothin' special."

18: Is it ever okay to not use a condom:

"I mean, if y'both agree to it an' y'don't fool around with anybody else, then yeah it's fine. Overwhelmin' majority o' th' time, I wrap up, even with m'wives."

19: Who was the sexiest teacher you ever had?

"...I din't 'ave any teachers I thought were sexy? My first shan'do was a 'andsome elven woman 'o could arm-wrestle a grizzly an' win, but she wasn't wha' I'd call sexy. Too gruff, too keen t' be alone."

20: A food that you would like to use during a sexual experience:

"Not somethin' I really think about in advance, t'be honest. Cook or no cook, food just kinda 'appens on a whim."

21: How big is too big:

"Can't get my mouth 'round it is usually a problem. Length isn't so much a concern, just means y' won't get t' bury it all th' way after a certain point unless y' want me dead."

22: One sexual thing you would never do:

"Mess with any bod'ly fluids besides cum. I tried real 'ard t'understand tha' one an' I just can't, sorry. Gross."

23: Biggest turn on:

"Depends on th' person; wha's 'ot from one is wierd comin' from another. Pickin' out of a hat? When Val'rin says somethin', then rolls 'is eyes up t' look at me an' tacks on a plaintive li'l 'Sir?' at th'end."

24: Three spots that drive you insane:

"Pretty much anywhere on m' throat, th' undersides o' my wrists, an' my 'air. Partic'larly yankin' on it. Just... don't come up an' do it outta nowhere. Like with m' collar, tha' shit'll get y' punched an' I'd argue y' prolly deserve it."

25: Worst possible time to get horny:

"Most times aren't really tha' bad, Iunno... middle of a warzone I guess?"

26: Do you like it when your sexual partner moans:

"I'm kinna suspicious of anybody 'o doesn't. Wha' kinna person doesn't love tha' kinda instant feedback? Tell me I'm doin' a good job, tell me 'ow t' do a better job, tell me just 'ow blown yer mind is by losin' track o' words, sing me a song."

27: Worst sexual idea you ever had:

"Really dunno why I thought it was a good idea t' let a blindfolded guy toss me anywhere, least of all into a bed with a solid headboard on it."

He touched the back of his head in remembered pain.

28: How much fapping is too much fapping:

"When yer chafed an' still 'aven't finished cuz yer too damned raw and desensitized t' get off, it's prolly time t' stop fer a while."

29: Best sexual complement you ever got:

Answered here!

30: Bald, landing strip, Jumanji:

"Landin' strip, ideally. I kin deal with whatever but tha's th' most convenient amount. Less potential fer mess."

31: Is it good sex if you don’t nut?

"What a bizarre question, 'course it is. Shit, sometimes tha's 'alf th' point."

32: Fill in the blank: “If they ____________, we are fuckin”

"Bite my neck 'r pin me t' a wall."

33: What your favorite part of your body:

"My 'air. It's gotten damned difficult t' take care of, but th' tradeoff's pretty worth it."

34: Favorite foreplay activities:

"Touchin'. Just... touchin'. Runnin' my fingers real light an' soft across ev'ry...single...inch...of a playmate's body. Learnin' th' curves, th' blemishes, th' scars, th' ins, th' outs, th' sensitive spots, th' ticklish bits, th' fav'rites all by touch. I kin do tha' fer hours if they'll let me."

35: Love (>,<, or =) Sex For those of us who don’t remember our math that's “greater than, less than, or equal to]

"Does not equal. Th' two kin be completely unrelated t'one another an' tha's perfec'ly fine. They kin en'hance each other when they're both involved, but they aren't incomplete without one another at all."

36: What do you wear to bed?

"If I kin get away with it, nothin'. I run 'ot these days, it's real easy t' overheat if I wear stuff t' sleep.

37: When was the first time you masturbated:

"Gods, Iunno. Thirteen? Fifteen? Somewhere in there."

38: Do you have any nude/masturbating pictures/video of yourself?

"Not tha' I keep fer very long. I make 'em an' send 'em t' people tha' I made 'em for, then I get rid of 'em cuz I don't wanna watch m'self wankin' or whatever."

39: Have you ever/when was the last time you had sex outside?

"So many times, gods alive. Last time was a few days ago, if y' count th' back acres on our property as outside enough."

40: Have/would you ever have sex outside?

Leon just kinda snorted. (See previous answer!)

41: Have/would you ever had a threesome?

"Sev'ral times, an' I would 'appily do so again with th' right people. Fun, but occasionally tricky t' figger out."

42: What is one random object you’ve used to masturbate?

"Most o' th' time I'm very borin' an' just stick t' my 'and an' maybe a dildo, but I got one o' those vibratin' sleeve thingers not too long ago tha' I've been meanin' t' try out..."

43: Have/would you ever masturbate at work/school?

"No, an' maybe. If I were still workin' in a kitchen where other people 'ad t' work an' there's food ev'rywhere, it'd be an absolutely not. I work in a private workshop by th' 'ouse now, so I kin get away with it more, long as 'm careful. Thus far I 'aven't been so tempted tha' I couldn't make it back in th' house first, though."

44: Have/would you ever have sex on a plane?

"Never been in one, be willin' t' try. I've 'eard 'ow tiny those bathrooms are."

45: What is one song you’d like to have sex to?

"...gonna 'ave t' ask me that'un again in a few months when I know more songs, sorry."

46: What is something nonsexual that makes you horny?

Answered here!

47: Most attractive celebrity?

"Do th' Tarts count as celebrities? I'm not even gonna try t' pick one, but tha's all I got."

48: Do you watch gay/lesbian porn? why/why not?

"Not a big porn-watcher in gen'ral, my life feels like a goddamned romance novel as it is. Not often I need more'n a couple o' particularly fond mem'ries."

49: If a child was born on the occasion of the last time you had sex, how old would that child be right now?

"Four days."

50: Has anyone ever posted nude pictures of you online?

(Hard to answer this one since the internet at large isn't really a thing in WoW, at least not in a widely-accepted enough way for me to answer it...)

51: What is one thing that NEVER makes you horny?

"Put-downs. Don't call me slut or boy or bitch--gods, especially not bitch--or th' like if y'want me t' go 'ome with y'."

52: Do you have stretch marks? (How do you feel about them? Has anyone ever had a problem with them?)

"Not tha' I've seen."

53: Do you like giving head? (why/why not)

"Like givin' it cuz it makes m' playmate feel real nice, don't like th' flavor s' much."

54: How do you feel about tattoos on someone you are interested in?

"Doesn't make a dif'rence t' me, aside from most tattoos bein' pretty."

55: How would you feel about taking someones virginity?

"Done it, though I'm not a fan o' th' phrasin'. They put some trust in me, I din't take anythin'."

56: Is there any food you would NOT recommend using during a sexual encounter?

"Nothin' spicy. Period. Just don't. It's not worth it."

57: Is there anything you do on Tumblr that you would not like your significant other to see?

(Another one that doesn't really have an answer in this context.)

58: Do you own any sex toys? (what is it? (how long have you had it?)

Leon burst out laughing and pointed at the full-size steamer trunk at the foot of his bed. "Tha's not even close t' all of it, either. Gods alive, wha' a question t' ask me!"

59: Would you give your significant other unrestricted access to your Tumblr for a day?

"Wouldn't give 'em unrestricted access t' anythin' private o' mine fer a day. If it's tha' private t' begin with, it's cuz it's my safe 'aven, an' they respect tha', same as I do their private stuff."

60: Would you be offended if your significant other suggested you get plastic surgery?

"A li'l bit if it came outta nowhere, but I've talked a fair bit about wishin' I could get rid o' some o' my scars. It's not somethin' I wouldn't consider tryin'."

61: Would you rather be a pornstar or a prostitute?

"Pretty 'appy doin' th' latter as it is. Don't think I'd wanna try th' recorded stuff, it seems like it'd be really awkward t' do tha' fer a cam'ra crew an' with somebody 'o ain't really enjoyin' it."

62: Do you watch porn?

"Not really. Most of it's not int'restin' t' me."

63: How small is too small?

"'Too small' is 'ard fer me t' quantify. I 'aven't found anythin' too small fer me t' work with some'ow."

64: Have you ever been called a freak? Why?

Bit of a flat look. "Worgen."

65: Who gave you your last kiss? Did it mean anything?

"Me an' th' guy 'o fucked me on th' fence out back shared quite a few kisses b'fore, durin', an' after. Mostly they meant 'fuck yer hot.'"

66: Would you switch phones with your significant other for a day?

"I mean, I could. Nothin' on there I wouldn't want any of 'em t' see. Be a bit inconvenient though."

67: Do you feel comfortable going “commando”?

"Frankly I'm more comfortable tha' way than otherwise. Spent too long with a big ol' poof o' fur around m' crotch t' be comfy with most undies. Same reason I'm not overly fond o' shoes either."

68: Would you have a problem with going down on someone if they hadn’t shaved their pubic hair?

"Purely in a logistical sense, yeah. I kin still go t' town an' do thin's right, but it's... sloppy. Those 'airs seem t' WANT t' get in yer mouth, an' all tha', an' it's just so much messier overall."

69: If you could give yourself head, would you?

"'O says I can't?"

70: Booty or Boobs?

"I am very much an ass man."

71: If you had a penis, what would you name it?

"I do, but I didn't. Namin' it seems strange."

72: Have you ever been on an official date?

"Sev'ral, but all of 'em only took place in th' last few years. Never when I was growin' up."

73: Have you ever cheated on someone? (Why?)

"No, an' I never will, an' you kin quote me on tha'."

74: If you were a stripper, what would your name be?

"I 'aven't th' faintest idea 'ow tha' works."

75: Have you ever had sex in your parents bed? (Would you?)

"Nope. Never 'ad th' opportunity, an' I think I'd rather throw up on th' floor an' eat it."

76: How would you react if you found out your parents had sex in your bed?

"Sweet, I'm gettin' a new bed!"

77: What was your reaction the first time you saw a penis/vagina

"Assumin' we're not talkin' about my own bits... 'That's not gonna fit!' fer a dick, an' 'This is a lot less sexy than th'other lads made it out t'be' fer a cooch."

78: If you had a penis/vagina for a day, what are five things you would do?

Answered here!

79: Oral, Anal, or Vaginal? 

"Yes."

80: What’s the first thing you look at on someone of the opposite gender?

"Their face. Also 'ow they carry themselves. But mostly their face."

( @pinpep @shckaewynn @valarin-sunstorm for mentions )

[snowdice]

Folds in Paper (Chapter 1: Burnt Rubber Pop-Tarts)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, eventual Logan/Virgil (maybe more)

Characters: 

Main: Janus, Patton, Remus

Appear: Remy, Emile, Virgil, Logan, Roman

Summary: Janus, a disillusioned senior agent working for the Time Preservation Initiative, struggles to find meaning in a world where time travel could change everything about your life’s history in less than a moment. When time distortions start popping up, threatening the timeline and the fabric of reality as he knows it, it becomes a race against the clock to fix the damage before everything unravels. And the problem with time travel... you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12 and your time is up.

With a partner who has more mysteries in his past than Janus had anticipated and an enigmatic free agent time traveler mucking about time always with a clever pun or a time appropriate pet name on his lips, Janus will need to figure out what went wrong with time, and more importantly, how to fix it.

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers (more to be added)

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

The words in front of him seemed to squirm back and forth across the screen as he watched, despite the fact that he’d bought this screen to prevent that exact thing from happening. The ‘d’s and ‘p’s and ‘b’s seemed to blur together into a sludge of incomprehensible nonsense, just like the voices around him seemed to.

He wasn’t quite sure how long he sat there staring at that report. Time itself seemed almost like the words and the people, it swirled past him in a blur of sounds and colors, but he never could quite grab ahold of it.

Something smacked him in the forehead, and he startled, looking up. “Remus,” Janus sighed. He picked up the projectile that had just been lobbed at him. “Did you steal paper from the 20th century supply again?” he asked, staring at the folded-up piece of white paper in the shape of a crane. It was one of Remus’s favorite designs. “That’s not what it’s for.”

“There’s a message inside!” Remus replied, happily, giving no thought to Janus’s admonishment.

Janus glared at him and carefully unfolded the paper. He squinted at it, and as he’d anticipated, that was way worse than the screen. Maybe the reader was worth his money after all. Or maybe Remus’s handwriting was just horrendous.

He squinted at it for a few moments and then looked back up. He blinked at his surroundings. The note had said ‘Go home. Work ended hours ago.’ and that certainly seemed accurate considering he and Remus were the only people left in the office.

“I still have to finish this report about the New Easter Island mission,” he said to Remus.

“I’ll do it,” Remus offered. “You’ve been working without a break for hours, and I probably owe the agency some time since I took a coffee break to 22nd century France this afternoon.”

“You what?” Janus asked.

”They have the best coffee,” Remus said, and then grinned wolfishly, “and the best guys.”

“Stop doing that stuff,” Janus hissed. “You’re lucky I haven’t reported you already.”

“You wouldn’t,” Remus said, very sure of himself. “You like me too much. Plus, without me, you’ll forget to go home and sleep every night. So, it’d be a loose-loose. Now up! It’s time for you to go home.”

Janus sighed and stood. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going, but that report better be done like you said, or I will report you for your coffee excursions.”

“Sure, you will,” Remus said. “Now shoo.”

Janus spared him one more glare before standing from his desk and waving his hand through the air. The machine at his wrist buzzed softly and the display screen lit up around him. He jabbed a finger at the last of the three pre-set locations and, with a feeling like he’d just stepped into a pool of softened butter, he was home.

He groaned and fell back onto his couch immediately. “Time?” he asked.

“1:57am,” a soft voice said from his ceiling. He groaned. Considering the agency liked to keep their schedules aligned even though his house sat almost 2 millennia before the agency even existed, he’d have to be up in 4 hours to head back to work. They said it was to ‘stop them from experiencing time jet lag’ and ‘maintain their circadian rhythm,’ but with Janus it usually just ended up with him ‘not getting enough sleep’ and ‘suffering greatly.’

Sure, he had been fine with it, encouraged the policy even, when the agency was created, but that had been before he’d had to live it.

His stomach suddenly grumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since before the mission he’d been on earlier that day. He was exhausted, but he also knew trying to go to bed this hungry would result in him not being able to sleep at all. He dragged himself to his feet and onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island. He didn’t want to wait for the auto cook feature to cook him something and he especially didn’t want to cook something himself, so he pressed a few buttons on the side of the counter and a protein infused, still cold pop-tart popped out of the table.

He thought it might be a Hot Fudge Sunday one, but he honestly couldn’t tell. The protein infusion made all of them taste rather horrible. For all he knew, it was one of the Burnt Rubber flavored ones Remus had once snuck into his pantry. To be fair, he hadn’t even noticed until he’d went to go stock his pantry and realized that there was half a box of those things. It was just another example of Remus using time travel for things he shouldn’t. They were a year 2513 delicacy.

The 2510s were an odd set of years.

He chewed on the possibly chocolate, possibly rubber flavored pastry and glanced out of the window. Though it was dark, one could still see the water of the man-made lake his home sat on thanks to the floating lights that hovered above it. Each agent working for the TPI received a home and alternate identity in a time and location of their choice. (Within reason, that is. Remus’s request to live among the dinosaurs was quickly denied and new rules were put into place immediately after.) Janus had chosen the late 24th century with a moderately sized home on Lake BlueBox. He didn’t have many close neighbors, but the ones he did know thought he was an accountant who went by the name of Declan Banks.

No, he had not chosen the last name. Yes, everyone got those types of names. The people at the Agent Management Office had a sense of humor or were just not creative. Janus only knew one employee in the AMO and he’d been avoiding him for the past three years as much as possible. Cowardly, maybe, but he knew if he gave the man too much information about his general lifestyle, he’d be dragged into the AMO to talk about his mental state and feelings, and honestly, that would make everything worse.

As soon as he finished the pop-tart, a glass of water popped up from the table making him jump despite the fact that he had been the one to set it to do that automatically years ago. He downed half of the water and picked up the glass to take it to his bedroom. He should probably clean himself off before bed, but he couldn’t be bothered today, and just stripped off his uniform and collapsed into bed in his underwear. The morning was going to come far too soon, he knew. Yet, his mind would not quiet. His brain kept filling out the report he trusted (well, hoped he could trust) Remus had already finished by now.

He eventually groaned and rolled over in bed. “Play something,” he requested. The screen by the side of his bed lit up.

“Randomizing the ‘Something’ video playlist,” the soft voice said from the ceiling.

A dance recital which he knew had been recorded in 2033 started playing. The images moved on the screen in front of him, but the sound drifted from all around him. He let his eyes linger over the way the dancers’ bodies moved as the sounds washed over him. The image of elegantly twisting limbs remained in his head long after his eyelids drifted shut and he finally fell asleep.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

[raisingsupergirl]

My Life With COVID-19: Week 1--Say Goodbye to Food

I never thought being a statistic would come with so much baggage. It's not that I thought it would never happen to me. In fact, I thought it already had happened to me. A couple of times. And maybe it did. But none of them were like this. I'm going to try to explain it as best as I can (you know, for science and future generations), but bear with me. COVID brain is definitely a thing.

I guess this story starts on 12/12/20. That's the day that my dear friend passed away. We were supposed to start a Dungeons & Dragons campaign together soon. Him, me, and three other good friends. But that Saturday, I got the text that he had passed away the previous night (not related to COVID, as far as I'm aware). Well, that following evening, those three other friends and I got together to remember him, to process some emotions, and to drink whiskey. The next day I woke up feeling… less than perfect. Of course, I thought it was from lack of sleep and too much alcohol, but it was weird. I didn't drink that much. Not to feel that bad. And there were some weird things, too. My eyeballs hurt (really bad) like I had a fever, but I didn't have a fever. And my fatigue level was through the roof. Other than that, normal body aches and lack of appetite that come with over-indulgence, so I didn't think much of it. Even when I woke up on Monday with persistent symptoms, I just assumed I was getting REALLY old and should never drink again. Yeah, I'm kind of dumb sometimes.

Monday and Tuesday could be characterized by general lack of energy, some mild congestion, and those danged achy eyeballs. And the only food that appealed to me was soup, and only in small amounts. "Just a little cold," I told myself. Even still, I had the good sense to be extra-cautious with my hand washing and mask wearing procedures. Unfortunately, I didn't have the good sense to get tested at that time. Mostly because my insurance doesn't cover testing (which is $150/swab), but also because I was in denial. I needed to work. My patients needed treatment. I was important… irreplaceable. And, of course, I didn't want to have to call my friends and tell them I'd exposed them Saturday night.

Wednesday was more of the same, but I felt even more fatigued. Then, someone else I'd come into contact with the previous week let me know that they'd tested positive. Crap. That's when the pieces started falling into place. And the last one fell as I was drinking a glass of alcohol (elderberry tincture, actually. Which I'd made myself as a COVID preventative… guess I should have started drinking it earlier…). While I sipped, I was actually hanging out with those same Saturday friends, but this time virtually. We were playing computer games. And about halfway through the glass of elderberry goodnes, I noticed that it wasn't nearly as floral or alcoholic tasting as it should have been. I assumed it was getting watered down, but suspicion started creeping up my spine. And by the end of the glass, it tasted like straight water (which tastes like nothing…). Like some infected dummy straight out of a zombie movie, I told no one and went to bed, hoping against hope that I would wake up to the smell of bacon (or anything).

When my alarm went off the next morning, I popped out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. First thing I did? Took a long whiff of my deodorant stick. Nothing. I stuck the toothpaste up to my nose. Still nothing. Brushed my teeth. Foamy nothing. Went to the bathroom. Thankfully nothing. And then it was time to go downstairs, face my wife, and finally say it out loud. "I can't smell anything. It's completely gone." And that's the moment that it became real. No turning back. One rapid test later, and my fate was sealed. My boss started clearing my schedule for the next week, and my mind started racing with all of the people I needed to call. All the things I needed to do. What my life would look like for the next ten days. Even now, I don't know if the virus was effecting my cognition and emotions or not, but I do know that I was a mess.

By the time I got home, my world was spinning. I was angry, ashamed, confused, defeated, and overwhelmed. Mostly overwhelmed. I made sure my wife had pulled our daughter from school, and then I went up to my room. Not because I was quarantining from them, but because I couldn't handle being around anyone, even those whom I loved most (I mean, I'd be spending plenty of time with them over the next week anyway, right?).

Over the next hour, I felt like someone with an STD contacting all of my past… well, you know. I texted, I messaged, I called. Everyone was incredibly understanding. They all wanted to know how I was doing. And it felt almost shameful saying that I felt fine. "Just a little fatigued, eyeballs hurt a little, some congestion. And the no smell thing." It's funny how that didn't dawn on me yet. In the flurry of confusion, I hadn't stopped to consider what life without smell would be like. That revelation would come later. No, right now I was focused on the bigger things. I wouldn't be able to attend my friend's funeral this Saturday. I wouldn't be able to host Portmas (an annual Christmas celebration with those same friends) that night. I wouldn't be able to go to work for over a week. The days would feel like months… Have I mentioned that I'm a bit of a work-a-holic? Yeah, well, there was a BIG part of me right then that thought, "God did this. I wouldn't slow down. I wouldn't quit working. Even when I was sick, I was too dumb to take a step back. So God took my smell away. It's my fault for being so stubborn. And God finally stepped in." Yeah, those are some thoughts that I'll continue to unpack over the next couple of weeks, but for now it's enough to say that my thoughts and emotions were about as confused as my senses.

Speaking of which, my lovely wife made me a can of chicken-n-noodle soup for lunch. And it felt great. Warm, soothing, and satisfying. But with each bite, reality settled in the pit of my broth-laden stomach. It wasn't that I couldn't taste ANYTHING. There was something there. A touch of saltiness and a hint of umami (look it up). My tongue wasn't completely dead… but my nose was. And so, another cascade of confused emotions. More anger. More fear. Google said "most" patients got their smell back in a week or two, but for some it could take up to a year. And a small percentage never got it back. NEVER!? And at best, I didn't know if I could handle two weeks. Honestly, I didn't.

If you haven't lost your sense of smell, I'm sure you think I was overreacting. I would have, too, before it happened to me (Yes, I'm aware of the irony of my blog post a couple of weeks ago). But I want to try and explain the seriousness of this situation to you. Maybe fore some it's not so bad—those who are suffering REAL COVID symptoms. Those fighting for breath and for life. But for those of use who feel otherwise "normal," it's a panic-inducing affliction. For example, I'm a fledgling home brewer. Do you know what all beer tastes like when you have no smell? Like water with a ghost of bitterness on both sides of the tongue. Do you know what straight whiskey tastes like? Exactly the same with just a slight warmth in the chest. And so, my brewing hobby is done. Just done. And cooking? There's no point. Everything might as well be raw cucumbers and unseasoned French fries. Texture and temperature. That's literally the only variation. Well… almost literally.

In my panic, I NEEDED to know what my limits were. I needed to know if I could find any enjoyment from food. And so, I went to the extremes. Cloves, even when eaten straight, had absolutely no flavor. Straight salt registered a little on the tip and back of my tongue. Sugar felt kind of thick on my tongue, and if I tried imagining it, I thought I could taste it a little. Cayenne pepper was a little tingly in the back of my throat, but nothing more. Horseradish did nothing at first and only a little tingling on the top of my mouth afterward (mind you, I ate enough of all of these things to kill an elephant). And finally, I took a bite of a lime. Whoa! That about knocked me over. Imagine not tasting anything for 24 hours and then suddenly biting into a lime. That's exactly what it tasted like. Okay, well, I couldn't actually taste any lime characteristics, but that SOUR sensation registered off the charts. The sensation was both hopeful and frustrating, and those two emotions fit in perfectly with my general disposition.

That night, I was mean. Cranky toward my wife. She made dinner, and I was bitter about it. Airfried shrimp and tater tots with cucumbers on the side. She was TRYING to satisfy my texture and temperature requirements. And she did well. But it was still ash in my mouth, cotton balls in my stomach. And no one seemed to understand my frustration and fear.

But that night, I realized there was something I hadn't considered, too. My family is close. We hug and kiss. We cuddle. And so, there didn't seem to be any reason for me to start quarantining from them now. Besides, both of my daughters already had the sniffles, so the likelihood was high that they already had the virus. And my wife thought that she'd already had it a few weeks before. But… if she hadn't. If she was still susceptible. I wasn't worried about her safety, so much. She's healthy. She works out, eats right, and nurtures her already strong immune system. But, if she lost her smell, too…

Okay, hear me out. This isn't just about food enjoyment or fart detection (yes, my wife giggled at the dinner table because she farted right next to me without me knowing…). It's about safety. Have you ever considered how dangerous it would be to live in a house with a gas stove if no one could smell? I mean, presumably the kids might notice something, but would they understand enough to let us know? I'm honestly not sure I would take that gamble. So here's hoping my wife keeps smelling, because I really don't want to move out.

Oh, speaking of my wife smelling, there's one last revelation I had about anosmia (lack of smell). For an anosmic person to take a shower is truly a selfless act. Think about it.

Anyway, by the time I post this (12/23/20), my quarantine will officially be over. I will have spent a week at home. So I'll definitely have more to tell. But these first few days are enough for now. Stay safe, friends. And don't forget to stop and smell the hot cocoa before you miss your chance.

[newyorkprelawland-blog]

Fast Fashion, Slow Lawsuits: The Rise Of Copycats In The Fashion Industry

By Melanie Nolan, Skidmore College Class of 2023

February 9, 2021

On February 17th, Kim Kardashian attended the Hollywood Beauty Awards in Los Angeles wearing a vintage Theirry Mugler dress with cutouts from their 1998 haute couture Spring/Summer collection.[1] On February 18th, fast-fashion retailer Fashion Nova released the “Winning Beauty Cut Out Gown”  available for purchase on their website for $49.99. It appeared to be a nearly-exact replica of the hyper-specific vintage gown Kardashian wore the day before. Kardashian herself addressed the situation on Twitter. “Only two days ago, I was privileged enough to wear a one-of-a-kind vintage Mugler dress and in less than 24 hours it was knocked off and thrown up on a site — but it’s not for sale. You have to sign up for a waitlist because the dress hasn’t even been made to sell yet.”[2] In the span of mere hours since Kardashian was photographed in the dress, Fashion Nova had recreated it, shot it on a model, found a manufacturer, and uploaded it on their website for the public to purchase. Or did they?

Fashion watchdog Instagram account @DietPrada fired back at Kardashian. They posted a screengrab of the knockoff Muegler dress on a FashionNova model, taken days before Kardashian had even worn the piece. “Fashion Nova Mugler knockoff shot 4 days before Kim wore it on 02/18/19. Kim, you’ll never fess up to your sneaky lil collaborations, but we got all the receipts.”[3] This finding by @DietPrada raises a few questions. Not only does it call into question Kardashian’s previous statement, but it also raises questions about if Kardashian was in on this grift the whole time. If the eagle eyes of @DietPrada are correct, it means that Kardashian (or a stylist) has been tipping off FashionNova about her outfits before she wears them. If they are incorrect, it means that somehow FashionNova guessed that Kardashian was going to wear a hyper-specific vintage piece, shot it, styled it and manufactured it, all before Kardashian even wore it. Then, when Kim unveiled it on Instagram they uploaded it to their website a day later. Fans speculated in the comments about what seemed more likely. Again, Kardashian defended herself on Twitter, swearing that she had nothing to do with it, and condemned retailers like Fashion Nova for ripping off small designer’s works.[4]

To be fair, Kardashian has battled with fashion retailers about copyright before. She filed a $10 million dollar lawsuit against Missguided for using her “name and image without permission in order to generate interest in their brand and website.”[5] However, she made no move to file such action against Fashion Nova. Was that an admission of guilt? Or, was it simply because of the ties Fashion Nova already has to her sisters?[6]

The jury is still out on Kardashian, but she is hardly the only one to be caught up in copyright issues with garments. There is a complicated history with fashion’s relationship with the law, and items of clothing often wrestle with complicated questions about what can be recreated, what can’t and how to take action about those who do.

Oddly enough, the debate and the laws about fashion start mainly with a lawsuit against two cell phones companies. The case was complex, but it boils down to this: in 2011, Apple sued Samsung for “slavishly” copying its products, namely cell phones and tablets. Apple argued that due to their patents, they were entitled to Samsung’s profits, and Samsung needed to promptly stop production of their infringing products.[7] Normally, a case like this would not be such a big deal for law, specifically law about fashion. But the patent that Apple claimed Samsung was infringing on was a design patent. A design patent is very different from a utility patent. A utility patent which protects what something does. A design patent protects the way something looks.[8] By filing this lawsuit, Apple claimed that their product’s design was getting ripped off, and thus they were wronged. Apple won.

Design patents protect the functionality of an object, but they also protect decorative aspects of it as well. As Fashionista described it, “If you have a shoe that has an interesting molded or sculptural heel that doesn't have any particular special function, but is part of this otherwise functional item, the shoe might have design patent possibility.”[9] Nike is by far the king of design patents. They filed for 867 patents in 2018, which is oddly only the second-most in the company's history.[10] But Nike, as a sneaker company is the perfect fit for something like a design patent. Their products clearly serve a function, yet there are clear decorative aspects as well that are unique to the brand. Handbags are another item that bears well to design patents, and the decorative hardware can also serve as the “ornamental piece” of a functional object. However, despite these useful instances of design patents working in their favor, many brands don’t use them. Instead, they focus their efforts on protecting their trademarks.

Patents are expensive. Trademarks are cheaper. To patent the design of a shirt can be up to $6,000-$8,000 just to start. To pay to trademark a little logo in the corner is much cheaper, and it can be incorporated into overall branding as well. This is all fine and good for big brands, like the aforementioned Nike who employs (and can afford) an army of lawyers to protect their designs. But some can’t, and in the age of Instagram this has become a massive, gaping problem.

For Madeline Pendleton, it’s just another day at the office. Only, her office is her garage, and her work is her small brand, Tunnel Vision.[11] Madeline and her best friend, who she dubs an “unofficial partner” run the brand, quite literally out of her home in Eagle Rock. They do small orders and small batches, and almost all of the designs on the website are Pendleton’s own original art. “I design ethically, and thus have a significantly lower profit margin than sellers of the sweatshop-produced copy, so it stings quite a bit knowing people make more money than I do off of my own artwork by just selling copies of it”[12] Pendleton isn’t the only one struggling with this. Many small businesses are routinely burned by the fast fashion market, and struggle to make ends meet while also battling with overseas manufacturers who often rip items almost as soon as they are created. But until then, she and other countless small designers will simply have to keep working, and try to keep up.

______________________________________________________________

[1] https://www.elle.com/fashion/celebrity-style/a26390312/kim-kardashian-vintage-thierry-mugler/

[2] https://twitter.com/KimKardashian/status/1097903684527091712

[3] https://www.instagram.com/p/BuDB6RxlPab/

[4] https://twitter.com/KimKardashian/status/1097903481518616576

[5]https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/thr-esq/kim-kardashian-sues-style-copycat-website-using-her-image-permission-1188517

[6] https://www.fashionnova.com/collections/kylie

[7] https://www.nytimes.com/2018/05/24/business/apple-samsung-patent-trial.html

[8] https://www.uspto.gov/web/offices/pac/mpep/s1502.html

[9] https://fashionista.com/2016/12/fashion-law-patent-copyright-trademark

[10] https://www.bizjournals.com/portland/news/2019/01/07/nike-continues-torrid-patent-pace.html

[11]http://www.uscannenbergmedia.com/2016/02/25/how-one-sustainable-fashion-brand-resuses-vintage-clothing/

[12]http://www.uscannenbergmedia.com/2016/02/25/how-one-sustainable-fashion-brand-resuses-vintage-clothing/

Photo Credit: VOGUE Taiwan

[wolf-with-a-pen]

Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door Part 4

TW: Lots of Swearing, Unreality, Kidnap, It Gets Really Dirty At One Point

Previous, Masterpost, Next

Sorry it is a week late, I should be able to write more now that I don't have to go out for just under 7 hours a day by law. If you want me to mention you when I post, ask, if you want me to tag something or add another trigger, also ask.

Enjoy!

Word Count:3975

EDWARD HAD NO CLUE WHERE THEY WERE. All they knew was it was within an hour of the flat, and that they weren’t there by choice. What’s going on you might ask me? Why are they there? Well, in order to tell you that, I have to go back to just after they arrived back at home, around 8 hours before.

Edward had spent the last half an hour trying to adjust their room to be exactly how they wanted it, however, they were failing dismally. Despite the lack of actual stuff to put in the room, they physically could not find something that felt right enough and a way that the room felt like home. Probably just because of the aftermath of being forced out of their home literally less than 24 hours before, but still, they tried everything and just gradually made a bigger and bigger mess of the place, eventually just stopping to look at what they’d done and realising they couldn’t see half of the stuff. It was at this point they decided to stop. Grabbing the few things they’d need urgently, they managed to find a way to the single bed in the corner of the room looking out at it. To their right lay the white door, and in front of them was the single window. To the left of the window was a bookshelf with stuff strewn over it and on the opposite side was a desk and chair. Next to them was a small chest of draws that they stored the few things they grabbed in, before laying down and trying not to think. It was at this point the welcome distraction of Isi knocked on the door.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure, could use a distraction.”

“Why?” it asked, gently pushing open the door. “Oh…it looks like you’ve dropped a bomb in here.”

“Yeah. It does, doesn’t it?”

“You want some help after what I came here for?”

“Please.”

“Ok, now, what did you think of Vanny?”

“Why?”

“Just want to know.”

“Okay. Not how I was expecting, but in a good way.”

“Why, what were you expecting?”

“Heavily opinionated, extrovert. Can’t really explain it more than that.”

“It’s cause of Biff right?”

“Probably. Still thought she’d be an extrovert though, even without Biff.”

“Cool. And how is Vanny different to how you were expecting?”

“She’s pretty quiet, to the point, and honestly she seems cool to me.”

“Cool. That’s good. Now then, how about this room?”

It was another half an hour later when Vanny called them for their sleepover, and honestly, it looked worse than when it started. Somehow, despite it already being war zone, Isi turned it into a nuclear bomb site. You could not see any of the surfaces. But Edward did not care that much- all they knew was they had fun with a friend. And in the process made more work for themselves, but, oh well, they wouldn’t need their bedroom tonight, and they could probably sort it out tomorrow. Quickly they slipped on some comfortable clothes, before emerging to find Isi in the most laid-back clothes they had seen them in and Vanny somehow looking less laid-back than normal. “Come on in Edward and sit down. We’re planning on starting with movies and pizza, before moving onto games. Any requests?” Vanny inquired, beckoning them closer.

“No, thank you,” replied Edward, gently sitting down on the floor, taking a few of the cushions off of the pile to sit on.

“Ok, well we’re starting with Lilo and Stich, then Coraline and finally RED. You ok with all of those?”

“Sure.”

“Ok, good, shall we get started?”

It was half an hour later that the silence was broken. Edward had spent the time either sat on the arm of a chair, or on the cushion on the floor, while Vanny and Isi were cuddled up on one end of the sofa. Surprisingly, Edward was the one that broke the silence. It took them a quarter of an hour to get the confidence to ask. “Should we build a pillow fort?”

“Yes, I haven’t built one since I was a kid!” Vanny exclaimed in approval.

“Why did you think we brought all of the blankets out? If we order pizza, by the time we’ve built it, it’ll be here.” Isi inputted

“Thank, you, that sounds good.” Edward replied

“Of course, and don’t worry too much. This will be the best pillow fort ever.” Isi, replied realising that it was probably with Ansel that they last built one.

“Yeah, it will.” Vanny confidently added.

If you already guessed from the fact that with more than one person, all they did was create a bigger mess, you can imagine what the room looked like. I mean, what did you expect? I mean, they managed kind of a pillow fort. There were walls and a roof and pillows on the floor, but the rest of the room that they couldn’t see looked like someone dropped a bunch of pillows on the building, and if they even tried to leave, half of it would fall down, but they had fun and managed something. That was all that mattered. The pizzas had arrived before they blocked themselves in and they had grabbed as many drinks and sweets as possible to stock the fort with. By this point they were all laying on the floor. “So, what should we do next?”

“Truth or dare?” Vanny asked.

“Really?” Isi groaned.

“Come on, it would be a good idea to get to know each other. You down Edward?”

“Fine,” Isi sighed

“Sure,” they answered.

They had all just about managed to drag out three rounds of truth or dare, and it had landed on Edward. All of them were running out so they were expecting them to just pass their round to the others. “Both of you, truth or dare?”

They looked at each other, kinda worried. “Truth,” they replied, almost in unison.

“How did you meet?” They inquired, not realising what they had got into, while Vanny and Isi were both stuck remembering how they did meet.

It was 10 years ago that they first met, aged 16, though not in the best circumstances. For both of them everything seemed to be going wrong that day, literally everything. Big and small. But still, they regarded it as one of their better days- just because they found each other. [A/N: will be writing a short dedicated to this later]

However during this flashback, they left Edward alone in a sense- both were zoned out looking into the distance, and after a while, they began to worry about them. It’s not every day you see your friends just completely go unresponsive while still being awake. Kinda creeped them out. So, they decided to wait it out in their room, where they couldn’t see the creepy half-dead look the others were giving everything. But they had forgotten the fact it was a chaotic mess, despite everyone’s best efforts to clean up. Not even they knew how it wasn’t better. So, they grabbed a few things off their bedside table that they might urgently need and shoved them in their backpack, slinging it on their shoulder and entering the kitchen, grabbing the pen and piece of paper they saw when they entered. Once they had done this, they grabbed a second piece of paper, wrote a note for when the two woke up, picking up a set of keys and leaving, quietly and carefully through the front door.

You see, Edward did not know the city. That they’d already established, from the fact that Isi was practically leading them around by tugging on their sleeve. Yeah, they didn’t particularly like that, knowing that they would be useless if the Guardians arrived and they had to leave quickly. So, they had decided to create a map of the surrounding area, noting the landmarks along the way. Hopefully they wouldn’t get lost. If they did they’d have to talk to people, but oh well. It would make them feel better they decided, as they noted down the number flat and the name of the flat block as a dot in the centre of the paper. As they walked down to the ground floor of the block, they realised how late it was- you could barely see the sun, and light was quickly fading beyond the horizon. Unfortunately, this meant it wasn’t as safe as first predicted. Thankfully, angels don’t get hurt unless a guardian or demon does it.

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice called out. “I couldn’t help but notice you came out of Vanny’s place, and I was wondering if she was ok, I haven’t seen her in a while.” Turning on their heels, they looked for the source of the voice, finding it to be an older looking woman, on the second floor of the building.

“Hello, yes I did come from Vanny’s, currently me and my friend are staying with her,” Edward replied as calm as they could manage, trying not to let slip that said friend was most likely known to be dead.

“So, she’s finally letting people in, that’s good. She’s been so lonely since Isi died, all of us were worried about her. Look after her for me will you?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. What is your name?”

“I am Edward. And you?”

“Margret, Margret Grey. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“I’d better go, see you around.”

“See you.” They replied, watching as she picked up a newspaper of the floor, before disappearing into a flat. Number 25. They made a mental note of it, in case they ever needed any help. The conversation went better than they were expecting. Almost too well. They turned on their heel, leaving through which ever path they believed would be the best, making a note of every junction and landmark along the way, keeping an eye on the rapidly fading light.

It was only an hour later that Edward realised how stupid an idea they had. First, it was now dark. Very dark. Almost pitch black. Second, they had chosen the wrong path. Somehow they ended up in an alleyway, somewhere. It looked vaguely threatening, with the graffiti and sense of someone watching you. Plus, the little canisters of who knows what were coating the floor. All they knew is it was probably a drug, and likely not a legal one at that. Never a brilliant sign. And finally, they had no clue where they were. Unsurprisingly, their map was practically useless, and just a jumble of lines. Literally, it looked like someone had grabbed a piece of paper and randomly squiggled on it. Almost certainly, they were regretting their choice. And the lack of forethought to check they had their phone on them. “Just wander around until you find a main road,” they thought, “What could possibly go wrong?” They didn’t bother answering that. They knew something would.

As you know, it was 8 hours after they got home. At least, as far as they knew. Who knew how reliable the weird people’s word was? They remembered that decision, and nothing else. It was as if they passed out then. I mean, they knew they had passed out at some point, but it wasn’t right there in that alley was it? They strained trying to remember what had happened, and was severely failing. Then they checked the rope tied around them. Solid- no way out. As far as they knew they would be trapped there forever. This increasingly depressing train of thought was disturbed by the sounds of the person returning, not that they could see who had taken them, not with the lights off. The only thing they could tell was that they were under another floor, and that the floor was concrete. That was it. The mysterious voice of the person holding them hostage startled them from this tangent.

“Hello Edward. You’re probably wondering what you are doing here. Well, you’ll never know. So, stay here for a while. Not that you can leave. Anyway, you just have to stay here until our friend comes back, then you might be able to go. OK?”

Edward nodded, confused as the kidnapper removed the gag they had placed on them. They got a small idea, one that would be unwise, but it worked in Dungeons and Dragons campaigns, why wouldn’t it work in real life as well?

Above them, Salami was sat. Yep, the three of them had kidnapped them. Despite telling Satan they wouldn’t interact. I mean, what did he expect? You can’t tell someone not to do something and expect them to not then do it. Especially the three who were unfazed with breaking his rules, and who he didn’t mind breaking the rules because they usually managed to complete the job. They had no clue how they found them so quickly- what was the chances that they would stumble into the road leading straight to their house, and that they would be so easy to just take. That was the only reason they realised how much help Isi and Edward would need. If they could barely defend themselves, how did they expect to take over heaven? So, they interfered. Eventually, Sal decided to go check on the two, finding them locked in combat. They were at opposite each other, and so, they pulled up a chair next to Sprite.

“Are you that interested in me that you want me to stay?”

“Fuck you.”

“Why don’t you darling?~”

“Why don’t you shut your pretty mouth?”

“Why don’t you do it for me?”

“You know, you’re pretty handsome for a bastard.”

“Aww, you think I’m handsome?”

“No, bitch. Go fuck yourself.”

“Why don’t you fuck me instead?”

“What’s up?” asked Sal, raising their eyebrows.

“I don’t know, wanna see?” Edward quickly replied, with no idea how they managed to keep it up for this long.

“No thank you, why would I want to see a matchstick?”

“It may be a matchstick, but I sure know how to show you a good time.” Edward lied. They really didn’t.

“Who says you’d be the one showing the other a good time? By the end of the night, you would be a blubbering mess.”

“Don’t be so sure, you look like you wouldn’t hold up that long.”

“Looks are deceptive dear, just like you looking like you would be unable to flirt. And like a virgin.”

“As you said, looks are deceptive.”

“h, but I can tell, the second part is true. Honestly, I’m surprised you aren’t a slut.”

“And I’m surprised you’re able to talk. I thought I would have broken you by now.”

“Try harder then.”

“Oh, I certainly can if you want me to.”

“Yeah right, you look 5 seconds away from being shattered.”

“You’re the only ones who will end up shattered. Don’t think I didn’t notice you watching us, person 1.”

“Well, I couldn’t miss that conversation, if it goes any further, I might have to gag you.”

“Kinky.”

“I’m done now, let’s go back upstairs.”

“Don’t be too loud now, the walls are thin.”

“Yeah right, as if you wouldn’t enjoy it.”

“Oh, I would, but the neighbours wouldn’t, I’m sure.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh, but we’re having so much fun.”

“You might, asshole.”

“So, you’re denying the truth now are you? Why would you stay if you weren’t enjoying yourself?”

“To break you. Let’s go.” Sprite answered turning on their heels.

“God that was exhausting. And impossible to end.” Sal stated, not thinking that Edward would hear him.

“It would be even more tiring if I did what I wanted to you, and it wouldn’t have to end if you didn’t want it to.”

“Dream on, whore.” He said closing the door on themselves.

“Wow, that went better than I expected,” Edward thought, “I kept up for who knows how long.” Then they sat and waited, falling back asleep pretty quickly.

Meanwhile, Isi and Vanny were panicking. I mean, who wouldn’t? It was about half an hour after Edward left that they snapped out of whatever trance they were in, and realised that they were gone. Both took a few minutes to realise what had happened, and after looking at a clock realised they had left Edward alone for way too long. Vanny was the one who saw the note, calming Isi who had ran around the flat looking for them worried that they had been kidnapped or worse, taken back to heaven. That didn’t fully tell them that they were Ok, and the fact they didn’t take their phone- it couldn’t help but worry. Not after everything. Eventually they had managed to get to sleep, reassuring themselves that they would turn up in the morning, but it was to no avail-while Edward was happily flirting with their captors, it had realised they were not coming home anytime soon. Something odd for the size of the city. But it knew it couldn’t do anything so it stayed where it was.

It was half an hour later that Edward woke back up, and even then, only because the door had slammed. Muffled above they heard 3 voices. The two from earlier, and a third, deeper voice. An unfamiliar one, yet it still felt as though they had heard it before. Straining, they listened in. “I couldn’t find them anywhere. This is going to be hopeless isn’t it?”

“We found them, they’re in the basement. I will warn you their flirting is on par with yours.”

“Thanks darlings. I’ll check them out later. Any other news?”

“Not beyond finding a map with only one legible location written down, that must be their place.”

“Perfect. We can check that out later, if we can’t get them to work with us.”

“OK.”

“I’ll go down then, since there is nothing else to do.”

“Good luck, you’ll need it.”

They heard the door gently click, and watched the person descend down the stair they could now just about make out from the time they had to let their eyes adjust to the gloom. The room was mostly empty, except for the shelves they could see out of the corner of their eye with what seemed to be some sort of weaponry on it. They hoped they wouldn’t use it on them.

“Hello, Edward. Might I say, you look so much more handsome in person than from your photo.”

“Thank you. How did you get my photo?” They asked, knowing they wouldn’t reveal it, but hoping to disarm them slightly.

“My sources shall stay unknown. The reason I’m here is to ask for you to join us darling. You’d be a fool not to.”

“Why should I join you? I haven’t seen any of you yet and how am I supposed to trust a kidnapper?”

“We are not going to keep you forever, the second we have your answer you are free to leave, but I recommend you don’t be rash. We have something you want. You have something we want.”

“So, you are suggesting an alliance? What is it that you want from me?”

“You and your little friend Isi on our side, helping us.”

“And what would I get in return?”

“Protection, information, and help with your so called “revolution” of 2 people against all of the angels. I know you are looking for help. But are you willing to accept it?”

They pondered the kidnapper’s offer. It did sound good. They needed help, and protection would be good as well. The information they could give would probably be priceless. However, were they really meant to trust a faceless person who could easily stab them in the back? They didn’t know.

“I will consider it, but only if I can know who you three are and why are interested in me and Isi.”

“Alright. My name is Riley, he/him. I will untie you. All of the windows and doors are locked and we know where you live. You will not be able to escape.”

“Ok.�� Edward replied.

“Now then, no running or shifty business. I wouldn’t want to have to ruin that pretty face of yours,” he said warningly as he gradually untied the mass of knots holding them to the chair. Gradually he became more and more frustrated, as the knots simply wouldn’t come undone. At all. You couldn’t even cut it- it was all tied together. “Who the fuck tied these knots?” he shouted upstairs. Both of the people wandered downstairs to watch him fail at untying them. “We did,” one of them replied. “You going to help?”

“No, I think you’re doing fine on your own.”

For Edward and Riley it went painfully slowly, but you could tell the other two were enjoying themselves at their pain. It felt like hours later that he had managed to get them untied. Mainly because it was- it took him around an hour and a half just to get them loose.

“So, can I meet all of you properly now?”

“Why?”

“Go along with it, they said they’d consider joining us if we showed them who we are and why we wanted them.”

“Alright. I’m Salami, but call me Sal, I’m a he/they,” said the second person.

“Fine, I’m Sprite,” the first begrudgingly revealed.

“Thank you. Now why do you want me and Isi?”

“We are all demons, well except Sprite, they’re a half demon, half angel. And our Boss heard of your escape, and finds you interesting. He wants us to help you, and in return you give him information. You see, we all want rid of the Guardians- all except the worker sheep that you call angels. You used to be part of them my dear, but you managed to break out of that way of thinking and heaven. That’s rare.”

“Ok. So, because we have insider information, you want me to help you.”

“Yes.”

“And if I don’t agree?”

“You’d be a fool not to, but I would be unable to stop you. But remember we know where you live, and if our leader gives us the order we will kidnap both of you and force you to co-operate.”

“Ok, I’ll work with you, but only because there is currently no other option.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, can I go home, the others will be worried, since I’ve been gone a while.”

“And how do you expect to get home when you were already lost?”

“I’ll find a way.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll take you home, my damsel.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, thank you.”

Half an hour later they arrived home, waving Riley off. Most of the journey was a flirting battle between the two of them, and it only ended when Riley had their number. Somehow they had already managed to memorise it. Before long, they were back inside the flat, being confronted by a worried Vanny and Isi.

“Are you ok?”

“What happened?”

“Why were you gone so long?”

“Just, don’t ask, you don’t want to know. I made some allies though. 2 demons and a half demon half angel.”

“Ok. Wait, was one of them called Sprite?”

“Yes, why?”

“Not brilliant but ok.”

“Why?”

“They work for Satan, and not just in a sense that they are down the command chain form him, they are his personal group of investigators and only really work on secret important stuff. This means Satan not only knows we’re here, but is interested in us. That could be good or bad, but we will have to wait and see. What did they ask you?”

“If I would help them in return for them helping us.”

“Did you accept?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see their faces?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. Good. Now, shall we continue where we left off yesterday?”

“Yes please.”

[halorocks1214]

the law of relativity

AO3 Link

Word Count: 9963

Summary: The Law of Relativity states that each person will receive a series of problems (‘tests of initiation’) for the purpose of strengthening the ‘light’ within. We must consider each of these tests to be a challenge and remain connected to our hearts when proceeding to solve the problems. This law also teaches us to compare our problems to others’ problems and put everything into its proper perspective. No matter how bad we perceive our situation to be, there is always someone who is in a worse position. It is all relative

Previous Parts (in order): Alan | Virgil | You are here! | Gordon

WHY 👏🏼 CANT 👏🏼 I 👏🏼 WRITE 👏🏼 FICS 👏🏼 IN 👏🏼 MO 👏🏼 DER 👏🏼 RATION 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 also just bluuuergh. dont ask about this fic. part of it was written in a dark auditorium, another was written in a different state, another was written on a frickin bus, this fic has been places ill tell you what. half the time i think this is hot garbage and the other half i think its actually decent so im posting this while my head is in a good headspace and then promptly yeeting myself off the internet for a few hours to wait and see what happens. this series is becoming less of a canon divergence AU and more of a straight-up AU because of certain details im trying to worm in there buT IM TRYING MY BEST

thanks once more to @gumnut-logic, because of the length, this time i used three prompts, them being "What do you mean?", crease, and dream (and they werent even used that much sksksksk)

Warnings for both graphic and non-graphic depictions of violence, as well as mentions of torture and other PTSD/panic attack related stuff. I went deep with this one fellas

Orphan.

The word tasted dirty in his mouth.

He can still see the footage in the backs of his eyelids from when he watched it exactly one year ago. He was the only other (living) adult at the time in the family outside of Grandma, so he was permitted to see it. He remembered they originally didn’t want to show him, mainly because of his age, but Grandma was fierce, and she put one hell of an argument on the table.

One Scott refused to let fall through the cracks by breaking down. If only Grandma knew how he cried his eyes out and screamed to high heaven that night in the hotel room after essentially watching his father be blown to bloody smithereens then she was a goddamn saint for keeping it a secret. It made sense, she was the mother to his father. She had quite the line up of stories from Jeff’s childhood. Scott sensed the early-greying of his hair came from her, heh.

The rest of his family eventually saw it, of course, they did. Scott couldn’t shield them forever. What he will protect, selfishly he might add, was how angry he was at how much better they took it than he did. They cried, yes they did, but they never fully broke down like Scott did. Later in life, he wondered if it was jealousy: jealousy at not truly being able to let go. Whatever it was, he made sure to swallow it along with whatever alcohol he chose for the weekend.

Just add it to the ever-growing pile of shit he had to deal with. Nothing new.

Suddenly he’s 20 again and seated in a plane to be taken to his first stint in the Air Force. He said his goodbyes to Virgil, Gordon, and Alan back at home while Grandma and John metaphorically held his hand all the way to the airport. John was… quiet, more so than usual, but Grandma was stuck right in the middle between being a sobbing mess and ecstatic at the fine young man he’s become.

You’re just like your father. He would be proud.

Scott was secretly glad she never physically said it. It gave him plausible deniability in thinking that those words weren’t laced behind her big, bright, prideful eyes.

The first time went well, maybe even great. He stayed for a couple of months, did some flight tests, and while the training was brutal, boy did he learn a lot. When he came back home it was to a family slowly stitching itself back together. Grandma was a full-time house member, Virgil had taken up painting, Gordon talked about potentially going back to his swim meets, and while Alan was still as silent as ever, he was perkier than when Scott last saw him.

It would be on and off for the next few years: a couple of months at home, slowly and painfully taking over the role their father had (he can’t remember when he essentially received joint custody of his younger siblings with Grandma, but hey, he’s not complaining), then a couple of months out at the Air Force base where he slowly climbed up the ranking platform. He became skillful, perhaps too skillful. When he got his rank of Captain he felt it was less of an honor and more of something they owed him.

He was getting cocky. Never enough to be a danger to his fellow men, but enough to be somewhat of an occasional annoyance. Charles smacked him upside the head more than once. It felt like the world was right-side-up for once. Scott made many-a-calls to John and Virgil, the former enjoying his first few rotations up in space and the latter squarely in the middle of college. Gordon was being offered sponsorships to hell and back, and Alan was quietly getting along with the other kids at his school. Grandma was on welcoming duty for Kayo, who was taking her slot in the Tracy family with grace, though, a warning that their family would take custody of her if something were to happen to her parents would have been nice, Dad.

Of course, nothing ever goes right for their family for too long.

Orphan.

Age 24, it was supposed to be a simple retrieval mission of civilians. Scott was put in charge of his squad and then some. At night, they rolled-- well, flew out to get the job done. Scott can’t even remember the country anymore when minding his own business. Australia? Finland? Perhaps Bangladesh? There was a place John was insistent Scott never do rescues in, Virgil tended to agree, and the eldest unhealthily let them banish him from ever stepping foot there without argument. He could never remember the name off the top of his head until John’s familiar International Rescue, we have a situation rung out in the living room followed by the name of the country.

He would immediately forget it later, trauma too strong, too volatile, but the way his heart stopped and his head shattered and the way he felt ice water rush down his back was a good enough reason to quietly leave the room and let John delegate the job to one of his brothers. Sometimes John found him retching in the toilet halfway through the mission. He made sure to always mute Scott’s wrist communicator, even if it was never turned on in the first place.

The plane touched down. Orders sent the ground team out. But then the ground team took longer than estimated. Scott tensely waited where he was told to. It wasn’t the first mission that took a little longer than predicted and knowing humans, it surely wouldn’t be the last. Then, words mixed with heavy static came over the radio. H--p. Co-- ---7--. --nd ba---p --me--at--y.

Scott sat tensely in his seat, remembering his orders and suddenly hating them. Radio back to home if the mission goes south. Well, it didn’t look like they had the radio anymore. Still didn’t hurt to try at least. Scott spoke the familiar protocol that was ingrained into him when trying to call base. Dammit. Nothing. Probably some kind of blocker of sorts. Sitting up straight as a board, Scott looked through his options.

… He was in charge here. If something happened to his team the fault would lie squarely on his shoulders. Going against everything but his gut, he went out to help his squad. He can’t really remember what he exactly did anymore, but he does remember that it made a noise. Like a Looney Tunes scene: he flinched, froze, waited to see if anything or one heard, breathed a sigh of relief, and continued.

He eventually stumbled across one of his closest comrades, Arnold Brigeets. Yes, the name was ironic and half the reason he joined the force in the first place. The guy was one of the people that actually trained Scott and also seemed to be one of the few that was genuinely proud when Scott became a higher rank. It’s why Scott was more appreciative of Arnold than others, that, and well… Scott thought his fatherly abilities were good. The guy did have three kids back home.

Orphan.

Ducking down behind the cover his older friend was semi-situated behind, Scott watched as Arnold jumped at the intrusion before sighing. Scott had run into some enemies that he swiftly took down-- nothing too serious, he didn’t have the time or weapons for such an act, but they definitely would be out of it for a while-- so Arnold must have too on his way to find cover as well, hence why he was so on edge.

“Thank God,” Arnold wiped his forehead, “Glad to see you join us, kid.”

Scott was breathing heavily, but the grin he attempted was still there, “Y-Yeah, so what happened? More threats than we thought?”

Arnold shook his head, “Yes and no. There were a lot more baddies than we thought, but that’s because the civilians weren’t civilians. It’s a tr--”

Boom. The familiar sound of a gunshot.

Arnold fell over. Never got back up. Dropped like a rock in a lake, never to come up to the surface again.

Scott was so caught off guard he couldn’t react to the gun that swiftly beat him over the head, knocking him out cold. The only thing on his mind was oh fuck oh fuck I messed up I shouldn’t have come I wouldn’t have made any noise that way why did I--

They had him for roughly two weeks. Scott always thought the plotline in movies where the villain vehemently denied knowing any important information was dumb as hell. We’re not stupid. We wouldn’t go after someone if they didn’t know something.

The things they did hurt and no amount of I don’t fucking know anything! would help. Those two weeks were lost to Scott in a sea of pain and torment. The only thing he remembered was being captured, then waking up in a hospital drugged up to his gills with his superiors staring at him like he cured cancer.

“You saved the rest of your squad from sharing the same fate as the first half.”

“I-I did?”

“You betcha, son. I only wish I was there to see it! People be saying you were like an animal in how you took ‘em all down.”

Scott’s never remembered, and he wanted to keep it that way.

He was given the highest honors, even the chance to skip a couple of ranks to be at the same level as the big boys, but the night they were going to share the news to the golden boy himself, they found him in one of the bathrooms with a bloody hand and a mirror shattered with no hope of fixing it.

He was honorably discharged to a family that was so thankful he was home. Words like missing in action and POA never stopped haunting their nightmares. Scott was too, God, of course, he was, but sitting around and doing nothing was the last thing his traumatized mind wanted or maybe even needed. After doing what he considered to be the biggest fuck-up of his life, he needed to feel important.

This isn’t the first time he’ll say this and it surely won’t be the last: thank Christ for Grandma.

“You want me to take over?...”

“Yep, it’s about time Tracy Industries received a new pair of eyes. The Board certainly thinks so.”

“But… they’d rather have a crazy, PTSD-infected veteran over you?”

A rough pinch to his ear, “Hey now, don’t call yourself that,” the gentle motherly tone was back as soon as it left, “Besides, that crazy might exactly be what they want. Half of their argument is that I “don’t take enough risks.” They’re getting tired of listening to an old fart like me.”

A moment of contemplation, followed by the cheeky raise of an eyebrow, “So you’re saying you want me to take so many risks they have no choice but to take you back?”

A bark of laughter, “Damn straight.”

He learned the ropes faster than normal (healthy, is probably the correct term), and he immediately won the hearts of both young and old in the company. Instead of flying planes every few months, he worked on business reports and vetoed new ideas every couple of weeks. It felt satisfying for the most part, and his family was just happy he was still alive to enjoy it.

However, there was a slight roadblock on his way to becoming a somewhat stable person.

He became prone to violent blackouts. It had to have started when he blacked out and saved himself from those two weeks of hell, which made the most sense. Something was always destroyed when he came back to life. John was the best at calming him down due to his own experience with panic attacks, however, John couldn’t always be there, and the next rotation for NASA was coming swiftly. Scott swore up and down he would be fine, he could figure something out. John went back into space with an eyebrow permanently raised.

It was just him and Virgil home (Grandma had taken Alan and Kayo to watch Gordon swim) when he, unfortunately, proved John right. Scott wasn’t sure what triggered it, but he vividly remembered coming back in Virgil’s extremely tight hold. The first thing Scott thought to say was damn, beanstalk, when did you get so strong? but then he laid his eyes upon the forming bruise on his younger bro’s face and hasn’t recovered since.

Virgil swore he never held it against Scott. Scott definitely thought he should have.

That night brought sudden clarity to Scott that he was doing this horribly wrong. He was a ticking time bomb, and it wouldn’t be long before something was damaged in a way that couldn’t be fixed. Scott needed an anchor. Something to ground him before he took it too far. John wasn’t going to be earthside forever, Grandma was busy with Kayo, Alan was just a kid, and Gordon was living the dream. None of them were viable.

Then, as he was thinking, he was suddenly aware of how calming Virgil’s arms were around him, how they were preventing the growing panic attack in his chest from getting even bigger.

It was easy.

For once in Scott’s life, his eyes were big and young as he asked Virgil, “Help me, please.”

After a few brief seconds, Virgil gulped, “Okay.”

From then on, Virgil was Stone Number One. Scott’s admiration for Virgil outweighed the guilt of putting the black-haired man in that position in the first place. Virgil was glad to follow his older brother’s leadership, but just as qualified to bring him the hell back when he went too far. From getting too sacrificial to preventing a good punching-out some of the idiots they dealt with, Virgil made sure Scott knocked that shit off.

Time went on, Scott was a top-notch CEO at Tracy Industries, John was having one hell of a time up in space, Virgil was graduated and had so many life opportunities to pick from, Alan was thriving at being a (mostly) stable kid, Kayo was 100% acclimated to the family, and Gordon--

Scott found himself gripping the wooden desk very abruptly. He was shocked he didn’t snap a chunk off in the process. Why was he thinking about this right after a giant business conference? Who knows at this point. If this giant origin story seemed jagged and jumpy, maybe even somewhat vague, good, that’s how it fucking felt.

Back to said story.

Scott always thought he and Gordon would have the least amount in common.

They do, but out of all the things they could have picked to be similar, why did it have to be the PTSD caused by military-related jobs? Scott was 24 when he got his, Gordon was just under 20. It may have been a few years since their respective accidents, but they’re never going to go another day without it feeling like it was just yesterday.

At this point, Gordon was up and walking again, mainly thanks to John and Alan while Virgil and Scott helped in their own ways. Grandma’s cooking was what probably motivated him the most though, ha, the need to get away from it… Scott smiled. Grandma was always a constant. Honestly, if it weren’t for her, the family might have fallen apart. Literally.

What has he been saying throughout this whole shindig? Thank Christ for Grandma.

One day out of the blue, Grandma reserved the entire family (yes, even Kayo and Alan) private plane tickets so they could spend some time on the mainland for a few days. Honestly, even if the island wasn’t getting major renovations, you hooligans need to get out more. Have some fun. Try not to kill anything, especially each other, she all told them while creepily grinning. John and Virgil smacked Gordon more than once on the plane for insisting that she finally snapped, dudes, she’s gonna kill us.

Most of the time during their little vacation, Scott heavily focused on his breathing. He was pretty sure he knew what she was doing. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, but the same went for his excitement.

Dad showed him these plans the day after his 18th birthday. You’re a man now, Scotty, I need your help making this big boy decision with me.

As soon as they reset foot down on the island, Scott took a deep breath and felt relaxed at the salty taste in the air. It was weird, nothing on the outside was changed, and yet… it still felt different.

“Guys!” Virgil yelled out, “Stop playing in the water! We just got back, aren’t you two tired?!”

Blinking back to reality, Scott looked over to see his two youngest brothers doing exactly what Virgil was yelling at them for. Poor Johnny was a little damp too, which is what probably caused Virgil to shout at them in the first place. The blondes didn’t care. They continued to prance around in the shallow waves with their pants legs rolled up, acting as if they didn’t hear anything outside of their laughter. Gordon shoved his hands down into the liquid and threw some directly at Alan, nailing him right in the face.

Scott exhaled slowly. He couldn’t imagine them doing this 8 years ago.

Regardless, the artist was right, and they couldn’t waste too much time. Kayo was swift in grabbing both gentlemen by the ears and dragging them onto dry land. They all painstakingly trekked their way up to the-- what would you call Tracy Island? Mansion? Over-blown cabin? Well, whatever it was, Scott would always be willing to call it home.

Stepping inside, each brother took in the view, which was underwhelmingly not that much different, except for one tiny thing. John suddenly noticed a figure already standing in the living room and blinked, “No way… it’s--”

Gordon jumped in, both with his body and his words, “Brains?! Dude, how’s it hanging?!”

The scientist in question jumped at the voices before clearing his throat and readjusting his glasses, “O-Oh, hello again, T-Tracys. It’s good to see you all once more.”

Virgil slung an arm around his shoulder, ignoring the blatant squawk, “Man, how long has it been?! What made you finally decide to crawl out of your hole?”

Snickers came from all corners of the house. Brains stood up straighter, “W-Well, I was contacted b-by Mrs. Tracy over here with an offer I c-couldn’t turn down.”

Eyebrows tilted in all shapes and sizes. Someone cleared their throat. Everyone turned to look at Grandma once again, “I think if you all follow me, you’ll swiftly understand what I’m talking about.”

I already do, Scott thought matter-of-factly. John seemed to be understanding it now, Virgil was on the cusp of remembering what his father was hinting at for him, and Gordon was just as lost as Alan. It made sense, Jeff talked to all of them about it, but the oldest had seniority. The two youngest not remembering just by words was expected, especially since that was going to be rectified very quickly.

The hangar under the island was beautiful. Point blank. It smelt of iron and steel and grease and engine and that was the first time since Scott had been in the Air Force that he didn’t gag or flinch at the thought of flying something again. Scott had seen the plans his father drew. He assumed Jeff finished building it, but he never got to physically see it since…

In some ways, he was glad he didn’t. Now he got to experience it with (most of) his family, and that made it ten times better.

After letting them absorb the scenery, Grandma slowly turned around to look at them all, “You remember that dream your father had?”

The four oldest blinked, Kayo simply raised her eyebrows, meanwhile, Alan, being the teenager he was, didn’t read the emotion in the room, “Oh, yeah! Aunt Casey always talked about how he was going to “change the world” and stuff. What did he call it again?”

Scott felt way more confident than he had in a while, “International Rescue.”

Grandma nodded, gleeful at the happy look on her oldest and youngest grandsons’ faces, “Well, I’ve been thinking about some things. I know we don’t exactly worry about money, but after everything your father put into these girls… I’d hate for them to go to waste.”

The Tracy family jumped at that. John’s mouth was wide open in shock, yes, shock, “That station is still up there?”

Grandma sighed, “You mean ‘Five? Not for long. Not if we don’t send someone up there within the next few days.”

John blushed at the grin Grandma gave him. Clearing his throat, his big brain came to a startling conclusion, “Wait… you brought Alan along?”

The other big brothers in the room jumped at that. Kayo was the only one with enough balls to say the truth out loud, “Mrs. Tracy, I mean no offense, but he’s--”

“Just a kid?” Grandma smirked, “A kid that’s topped the VR charts for Intergalactic Fury for weeks straight while simultaneously getting nothing but A’s in his classes?”

Scott nodded slowly in comprehension. He remembered Alan talking about that game for a while. It was some kind of online racing simulator of sorts. Scott caught the prettiest string of words from Alan when going to bed one night. Nearly made him shit his pants. He made the kid promise to keep it PG-13 if he wanted to keep playing.

Still, the elders in the family slowly turned to look at the freckled boy with both shock and pride. Alan blinked with wide-eyed innocence, “But my English class is only at a B--”

“Shh, kiddo, I’m making a point,” Grandma rolled her eyes. The other brothers snickered. Yep, still Alan. Grandma sighed, “Now before you point out that video games are different, I know, but the difference between them and this is that video games don’t have some of the most talented older brothers in the world to guide him.”

Said older brothers jumped at the idea. Before any objection could be made, Grandma continued, “Besides, the GDF seemed to be okay with it. The Colonel was willing to oversee some of his training too.”

John flinched at that, “But IR is supposed to be independent!”

Grandma slightly frowned. She didn’t exactly like it either, “It still is, but in the world of business, compromises have to be made.”

Virgil huffed and crossed his arms, “Well, that’s… rough. Here I thought only Scott would have to deal with the bullshit of business.”

Grandma chuckled at the somewhat un-Virgil-like behavior, “It really is, Virgil. But about that Scott part,” she slowly turned to look at him and him only, “I hate to give you more work to do, but if you want to work within their restrictions?”

Suddenly every pair of eyes in the room was on the head of the family. Gulping, Scott looked down at his feet to think. It was a tense few moments, nobody sure what he was going to decide, least of all him, before the brunette cleared his throat and brought his face back up with a grin.

“Well then,” Scott turned to look at the bright tip of ‘One, chest fluttering with a feeling that became unfamiliar to him over the past few years, “I guess now it’s time to state the obvious.”

From then on, every time he loaded into that cockpit of his girl, he felt lighter than air.

“Thunderbirds are GO!”

Everything was okay again.

Mostly.

Orphan.

Scott took another sip of his whiskey and refocused on his reports.

---

Scott was in some kind of dissociative state the whole way home.

Alan doesn’t deserve this. He’s still a kid, barely an adult, and he’s going to go through utter hell because you screwed up. You were 24, Gordon was just under 20, Alan was barely 18. Alan’s going to get fucked up like you and it’s all your fault.

His movements were robotic and rigid. Anyone with a working eye could tell he was deep in shock and running on autopilot. Mostly Jeff. Especially Jeff. The rest of the brothers all noticed too, but they were also running on their own empty fuel tanks, so the only thing they could do was guilty send their older brother the occasional glance of pity and concern.

Jeff was going to need to talk to them about that. Somehow. Maybe he shouldn’t be the one to point it out since he feels just as bad. His sons were too much like him, sometimes, and that made his guilt burn all the same. He should’ve been there to warn his sons about the dangers of unnecessary guilt. Having that kind of guilt was a parent’s job, dammit, and maybe grandparents only occasionally.

But then he remembered where he’s been for the past 8 years and… who really was Alan’s parents anymore? His gut was screaming it sure as hell isn’t you, but he knew his sons would want him to step back into the role as soon as he was physically fit to do so, not just for Alan, but for themselves as well. They would deny it, but they probably just wanted to be kids again too, even if it was only brief, fleeting moments.

Who was to tell the protective, fatherly side of Jeff no to that? No better time to fix things like the present after all.

He saw Scott go up the stairs when they first stepped into the living room, so that’s where Jeff was going to go too. Footsteps light, Jeff retraced his eldest’s pathway to his bedroom. Only, he stopped before said bedroom. Unfavorable noises were coming from the closed bathroom door, and Jeff could only swallow whatever emotion it made him feel. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the (unlocked) door to the bathroom and laid his eyes upon the incriminating scene.

Jeff was met with the sight of Scott retching his entire stomach into the toilet, hands aggressively grabbing his sticky, hair-gelled hair and trying to make himself bald from the strain.

Jeff’s reaction was always based on autopilot, and it will never stop being so.

Ignoring his protesting body, Jeff kneeled and placed a hand on his son’s back, only to abruptly pull back like he touched a hot stove when Scott only got more hysterical at the contact. The brunette clenched his eyes shut even more (and they were already shut as much as possible) while his head became a special kind of crease. Like he was in pain, “God, I wanna go home. Why won’t they listen I swear I’m telling the truth! Please, I just want Dad--”

Jeff was frozen on the spot, heart stopping in the process. His brain shut down while he watched his son continue to mindlessly ramble and panic. His freaked-out mind barely registered footsteps from behind in the hallway, followed by a voice going what’s going-- holy--

Something thundered past him. Blinking once, Jeff guiltily watched as Virgil kneeled behind the eldest and wrapped his arms around the thin man’s shoulders while taking Scott’s hands in his in a protective blanket, “Scott! Jesus-- we’re at home, you’re safe and it’s June 14th, 2--”

Scott only struggled more, panicking at the fact he could no longer yank his hair out. Dammit, it was the only way he could feel in control, don’t take that away too! “No! I swear I’ve said everything! Please--”

Virgil immediately knew that this was one of those attacks that Scott wasn’t coming back down from with pure human intervention. Add-on the sight of his father’s big eyes signifying the man was at a loss at what to do, Virgil had no choice. He snapped loudly, remembering the comms were still on and only feeling slightly bad at the way Scott flinched in his arms, “Shit-- John! It’s Scott! Get the stuff! We’re in the upstairs bathroom!”

Muffled footsteps through a few walls in the house could be heard. Jeff’s mind was only starting to catch up when the brother Virgil called for came rushing into the bathroom (Jeff never remembered it being big enough to hold four of them) and ignoring Jeff (practically shoving him out of the way too, man, this was bad) on his way to the main problem at hand. Landing on his knees in a way that made Jeff wince, John gently grabbed one of Scott’s arms from Virgil’s hold and subsequently pulled a needle from nowhere and injected something into Scott.

The response was instantaneous.

Scott’s breathing, while still labored, got slower. He stopped struggling as well, and the way he sagged reminded Jeff of ice melting into a puddle. The two other brothers’ shoulders also sagged, relieved at the crisis averted. John stood up, knees cracking as he rubbed the back of his neck. Then, he froze at the sight of something in the doorway, “G-Gordon…”

Virgil snapped his head up from where he was looking at Scott. Jeff did something similar. Yup, in the doorway was the strawberry blonde, eyes wide, making him younger by about 10 years. The ex-Olympian in question inhaled, closed his eyes, and soon speed-walked his way out of the entrance to the bathroom. Dammit, neither Gordon or Alan have seen something like that and it probably spooked him more than anything. He’d understand with his own PTSD-related issues, but still, seeing the “never weak” big brother freak out in such a scary way...

John combed a hand through his hair, shaking his head. As he started walking out of the room, he whispered to himself, probably hoping no one heard him, “Dammit, this is all so fucked…”

Unfortunately, Jeff did hear, and the dirty language made the father flinch. John was always the best about making sure Grandma didn’t wash his mouth out with soap, and the fact that he so willingly didn’t care meant that everyone was at the end of their rope. Still reeling at the sight, Jeff couldn’t react to the gentle arms that picked him up off the floor and slowly led him out of the suddenly stuffy room.

With the click of the door shutting, Jeff realized what Virgil did, “W-Wait, Scott--”

“Will be okay for a few seconds,” Virgil finished for his dad, “I know it’s nearly been a decade, but the one part of you I definitely know hasn’t changed is the need to comfort us, just like we hoped.” The small grin that fell over the middle child’s face put Jeff a little bit at ease, but Virgil wasn’t completely done, “So, I’m going to let you take care of this, but I just want to make sure you’ll handle it with grace. Take this slowly, okay? Scott might be doped up, but he’s still… volatile, in a sense.”

Jeff cleared his throat, suddenly choking on the unneeded tension, “Okay, Virgil, I promise, just… what happened? That was… bad, and really bad at that too. I know Scott would never let something that severe willingly come out in front of his family.”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not ready for this conversation, “Listen, Dad,” he inhaled sharply, cutting himself off before sighing in a way that said fuck it, might as well get this over with, “As much as it felt like it did, the world didn’t stop spinning because you… well, we had lives we somehow wanted to continue living. We all have lives and stories now, and this is Scott’s story to tell.”

Jeff was getting misty-eyed again. Back when he was just a kid, Virgil couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, mainly in part due to his insomnia-related issues (Jeff has to wonder if he still has them, more problems for the future) and general lack of filter because of sleep-deprivation. Now Jeff knew there was a starch difference between a kid who couldn’t keep his mouth shut and a man who genuinely knew how to respect another man’s privacy, but…

It just hammers home how much he’s missed with his boys. Gulping, Jeff made a mental note to talk with his mom about certain things he’s missed. She’ll know a lot more than he would, “Okay, Virge. Thank you, for stepping up there.”

Virgil’s shoulders relaxed at Jeff’s words, as well as his father’s hand patting him on the shoulder, “Thanks, Dad. Just… go easy on him. I know it’s a little late for this but none of us ever properly talked about things. It was very unhealthy, deep down we all knew that, but…”

“You just couldn’t get the proper emotions out?” Jeff finished for his son. At Virgil’s soft nod, Jeff exhaled, “I’m not going to say that it was a smart decision, but we’re all here now. We can move forward with this.” Jeff squeezed where his hand laid.

Virgil blinked before curtly going, “Yeah. Goodnight, Dad. Take care of Scott.”

Virgil stepped around his father and walked to where his bedroom most definitely was not, but Jeff could deal with that in a little bit. He had another son who he was pretty sure just had a violent PTSD attack of some kind, plus, Virgil seemed to sour at something Jeff said. The ex-astronaut wasn’t sure what it was, so he didn’t chase after him out of worry that--

Wait.

We’re all here now.

Dammit, Jeff. Out of all the sentences you could’ve picked...

Alrighty, just add that to the ever-growing pile of things that need to be talked about later. No biggie. Jeff found himself sighing and rubbing the back of his neck much like Virgil did a few minutes ago. Turning around, he was met with the bathroom door once more. Shaking his head, Jeff slowly crept into the room and saw that not much was different, especially with Scott.

His heart softly cracked, but, again, he can deal with it later.

Sitting down on the ground and grimacing at the way his body ached (was gravity always this rough?), Jeff leaned against the floor cabinets about 2-3 feet away from Scott, who made himself into a nice comfortable ball in the corner next to the toilet, his palm smushed against his forehead. Jeff waited a few seconds. Then minutes. Then he realized he would have to be the one to initiate the conversation. He probably should’ve realized that right when he came back in. He opened his mouth, but his wasn’t the one that words came out of.

“It was… Zambia.”

Jeff’s heart stopped and his mouth snapped shut. He couldn’t stop the way his eyes clearly showed his panic, but hopefully, he guiltily thought, Scott was a little too doped up to not realize it, “Scotty, what do you mean?”

Scott shrugged in a way that spoke he thought what he was admitting wasn’t a big deal. Yep, clearly not with it, “Mission went bad… caught for a couple of weeks.”

Jeff was hoping his first fuck back on Earth, spoken to himself like right now or otherwise, would have been a comedic thing, but the way nausea rose in his throat said this was anything but funny.

Scott wanted to be in the Air Force. Badly. Who was a father to deny his son’s want to be part of such a noble cause? He gave him tips, took him to meet friends in high places, sometimes even sparred with him when he turned 18, but then Jeff was suddenly thousands of miles away with no hope of ever having the chance of sparring with his eldest again. Despite it, Jeff hoped Scott went on to become the best pilot the world has ever seen.

Part of this looks like he did, but at what cost?

As much as it felt like it did, the world didn’t stop spinning because you… well, we had lives we somehow wanted to continue living.

Aw hell, “Jesus, Scott…” Jeff couldn’t tell if it was the brashness or the lack of a nickname that made Scott flinch and he hated it. He immediately softened his tone and brought his 27-year-old child into his arms, “Shh, shh, we’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

Like father like son, old habits die hard, and as easy as it was to still be able to comfort his children, Scott seemed to just as easily take it as he used to 8 years ago, “Alan doesn’t deserve this kind of hell, God, he’s barely not a kid anymore! Why--”

Jeff tightened his hold to keep his son in reality, and because he didn’t like the tone behind those words, “Hey, you didn’t either--”

Scott somehow managed to fling himself out of the hug, focus incredibly on point for someone who was doped up to his eyelids five seconds ago, “But I fucked up! I made the wrong call and then suddenly Arnold was dead and he had a wife and kids-- shit, what the hell did I do?”

Okay.

First of all: way to put him back in that headspace when that’s the exact opposite you were going for, Jeff, father of the year. Second: dammit. Just… dammit. This was a big fat hand grenade in a giant handbasket that they didn’t have time to gently get out while simultaneously not yanking the pin clean off with the grace of a drunk elephant. Jeff was no stranger to Survivor’s Guilt, but there was a whole untapped pile of metaphorical C4 within his son’s head that was ready for someone to push the goddamn button.

He wanted it to be him, desperately, because it sounded like he already failed his family enough, it was all he could do at this point, but he absolutely hated that he couldn’t do it right now. This was going to take a lot of time, which they didn’t have, plus, Jeff thought he had a pretty good understanding of this new Scott and the rest of his kids. Jeff was aware that if he didn’t help his sons find their baby as fast as possible over everything else it’ll lead to a fate nobody wanted.

A shaky sigh, “Okay, Scotty, let’s get you to bed. We’ll talk strategy in the morning.”

Scott simply nodded as his father flung Scott’s arm around his broader shoulders and picked him up. Slowly and painfully but surely, father and son meandered their way to Scott’s room. With a thump a little harder than Jeff wanted, Scott flopped down on top of his sheets and immediately started snoring. Despite everything that just happened, the father couldn’t help but grin at the sight. Well, there was another thing Jeff gracefully passed onto his son.

Jeff only took Scott’s shoes off. He would’ve loved to pull the sheets up around him too, but the father didn’t want to take any chances at waking him up. Slowly tip-toeing out of the room, Jeff gave one last glance back at his son before finally letting him be and gently shutting the door. He had three other sons he needed to console, but his tired joints told him to selfishly take a moment for himself for right now unless he wanted to collapse and give his family more to deal with.

Jeff eventually made his way to his room-- which was sadly unkempt, he noticed-- and sat down on the edge of his unfamiliar bed to think.

He’ll figure something out. If he had to crawl through images of his son being brutally and bloodily tortured then by God he would with the fury of a thousand suns.

He was back and he wasn’t going to throw away any second or even third chance he was given.

---

“I got him.”

Virgil turned his comms back on, and with it, Scott’s heart restarted for the first time in a few weeks. Taking a moment for a breather, Scott leaned against the wall while practically wheezing. They have him back, holy shit, they have him back. Scott vaguely heard Gordon cry in pure relief and joy. He saw John’s side of the comms flutter for a bit before a bright flash happened. Blinking away the white spots, Scott looked at his wrist to see a fully detailed map of the compound.

Gordon spoke what they were all thinking, “Woohoo! First Allie comes back, then Johnny-boy gets us a free ticket out of here! We’re winning this race, baby!”

A very loud moment of silence. John cleared his throat, “Actually, I was going to say glad to see you in one piece, you little shit,” a playful gasp came from Virgil’s side. It was too high pitched to be from the pianist’s mouth. Scott chuckled, but the paranoid part of his brain said John wasn’t done. His brain was right, ‘“But guys… that wasn’t me. Or EOS. We still haven’t found a way to get past the metal they made these walls out of.”

That silence was even more deafening than the last, and before Virgil could utter out his typical what the fuck, a small logo appeared at the corner of their new map. One that was all too familiar. The Chaos Crew wasn’t the only one who could brand their awful deeds.

Son of a bitch.

Virgil’s order over the radio was meant for Alan, but Scott couldn’t help but listen to it too.

“Shit, Alan, you need to run.”

Making quick work of the compound once more, Scott, while booking it even quicker than last time, opened a private line between him and Gordon, “Hey, how would you feel if I said go help Virgil while I cover Alan?”

The first response was stuttering, which Scott expected, but then it was followed up by something completely out of left field for Gordon, “... Okay, just as long as you promise to bring Alan back in one piece.”

Part of Scott wanted to console Gordon, another was questioning why Gordon was so quick to give up, another wanted to say of course, I will, idiot, but the first part that made itself verbal was easy, “You know I will, buddy.”

Scott could physically picture Gordon’s tiny, little, somber nod clear as day, “Sounds good, captain. See you on the other side.”

With a click, Scott was back on the group comm. Suddenly remembering what exactly his job was, he pulled out the map so graciously given to them by The Hood. Looking at all the dots, one was heading towards a prone one (oh if that asshole did anything to Virgil…) while another one was heading right for Scott himself. Actually, in just a few seconds, right as Scott rounded the corner he would--

“Woah, look out there, Tigger!”

Yes, you heard that correctly: not tiger, Tigger. Tigger hadn’t been used since Alan was itty bitty. It always seemed like the kid had endless energy with the way he wouldn’t stop bounding off the walls and furniture. Even as a baby, Lucy had to sit with him for a few hours while he slept in his crib to make sure he would stay there. In fact, their mother gave Alan that nickname herself. She was quite the Winnie the Pooh fan, and the rest of the family figured it would be one of the ways they could keep her legacy alive for the tiny potato.

Wrapping his arms around said flailing potato, albeit much bigger than a baby, Scott thought he would collapse then and there. Alan was here, in his arms, and yeah, the sight of his dirty and somewhat ripped up IR uniform made him mad, but Scott, for once in his life, decided to focus on the here-and-now, aka his precious, alive little brother, who finally stopped struggling at the realization that hey, the person holding you is a good guy, time to turn off fight mode.

Smushing their foreheads together as much as possible, Scott desperately fought to keep the waterworks back, a smile from ear to ear hopefully taking whatever energy his tear ducts had, “You are getting such an ass beating when we get home, little bro.”

Alan jumped back with a look of What the hell?! What did I do now?!

Scott simply rolled his eyes, “Really? “Not important”? You graduated high school, tiny dude! That’s huge! You remember Gordon’s party, right?”

Alan’s mouth gaped before he closed it with slightly puffy cheeks. Those same cheeks tinged with a small blush. Alan wasn’t exactly expecting to be smothered so soon (well, he did cry his eyes out on Virgil’s shoulder, but that was different!). Shaking it off, Alan moved his hands rhythmically and rapidly, To be fair, we weren’t sure he was going to get one for a while.

Scott faltered a little bit at the ASL. Darn, he should’ve seen Alan’s lack of talking from a mile away. Scott carefully hid his disappointment from Alan. Lord knew what the kid would take it as, “Yeah, that’s what he got for barely making it. Imagine what you’re going to get!”

Scott assumed his semi-fake charm worked, as Alan seemed to play along without any kind of suspicion, Oh yeah. Fair enough.

This kid, man.

Then, slow clapping came from a dark corner, making Scott’s heart leap out of his throat as well as push Alan behind himself. Glaring as much as he could towards the invisible evil-doer, Scott didn’t have to think twice, “Alan, take my map and find Virgil and Gordon.”

The youngest looked like he was going to object.

“Go.”

He no longer did. Good.

Listening to the field commander’s orders, Scott felt his wristband slip off his wrist and a warm body leave his vicinity. An inhale. Also good. An exhale, followed by an even darker glare, “What more do you want?”

Short and straight-to-the-point and angry, two things Scott typically wasn’t. Regardless, like a cold gust of wind, footsteps started approaching him from the shadow. Once Scott saw the outline of a body, he tensed even more. Virgil would snap at him for clenching his jaw so much.

A dark chuckle reminded him of what was important. The voice that spoke reminded him of something completely different, “Now then, brother, let’s not be rude to each other!”

Scott’s pupils shrunk at the familiar sight of Gordon stepping towards him. Except it wasn’t Gordon, because Scott knew that Gordon knew better. He also knew Gordon didn’t cheekily smile like that, even after a prank, nor did he walk that straight. He always had a funny walk after WASP, and Gordon wore that fact like a badge of honor.

Oh no, Scott definitely knew who this was, “What the hell are you playing at?”

Fake-Gordon rolled his eyes, like it wasn’t obvious, “I mean if we want to go that route, why did kid insist you being in the military was the coolest thing he’d ever heard you do? Maybe I wouldn’t have been pressured into joining a branch myself in the end.”

Scott’s nostrils flared, and by God, his pupils might have actually slitted like a snake’s, or possibly even a dragon’s, “Excuse me?”

Scott blinked, and suddenly he was met by not-Virgil, “Plus, why was our conclusion after hearing a three-year-old wanting to see snow to go to a ski resort? It had to have been those big, selfish, beady eyes, right?”

“C’mon, Scotty, we gotta give you some kind of calming exercise. There’s going to come a time when neither me or John are going to be there.”

“Hmm… does yoga work?”

A snort, “Well, that’s not too bad of an idea. Maybe the person pissing you off will stop whatever they’re doing at the sight of you spontaneously doing downward dog.”

Laughter, an unfamiliar action, “Yeah, okay, but for real, those breathing exercises I’ve seen you do look okay. Let’s start there.”

Scott was not a liar by heart. He had to admit that those exercises were doing jack shit right about now.

Another blink, another brother. Familiar ginger hair was all Scott could see, “To continue that previous point, why did Dad start International Rescue again? And what led to his demise?”

“Sounds like a piece of work. Why do you keep dealing with these people again?”

“Someone has to pay the bills, Johnny. Grandma’s too focused on making the perfect poison for us.”

A roll of eyes, “Right, because the billions we have saved wouldn’t be enough to last a couple of families a few lifetimes. Glad to see your calming exercises are working at least. How’s that going for you, by the way?”

A pause. A flicker of vision around the room. Someone cleared their throat, probably himself, “It’s probably not as bad as whatever space is throwing at you. You handling it okay up there?”

Another pause, followed by a sigh, “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Scott wanted to deflect the truth so badly right now more than anything else. Telling him he couldn’t pilot ‘One anymore would be a much more enticing option than what he was hearing.

Suddenly, Scott was looking in a mirror, “Besides, I know more than anybody that he wasn’t wanted. A mistake. I thought we Tracys hated being imperfect?”

The Hood must have known their backstories from internet articles, and being the mastermind he was, it probably took him all of three seconds to see Alan had some hidden self-worth issues. By playing the biggest Guess Who? game of all time, The Hood was most likely able to figure out some less-than-positive ideals Alan thought about himself throughout his childhood and danced circles around his already weakened mind to string together some spineless blame to put on the kid by sheer evilness alone.

Knowing his kid brother, it worked.

Scott wasn’t thinking straight-- maybe even at all when the first punch was thrown.

Just like that, Scott blacked out and was running on terminator mode. John would be disappointed. Virgil would be horrified. Gordon might find it funny. Alan wasn’t here, and thank God for that. Scott wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. All his mind was telling him was make lots of pain hard and fast. His brain also blocked out any hit The Hood was giving him in return. Pain flared for a few seconds, then it was swept away in the puddle of rage his mind was currently being consumed in.

Soon, his out-of-it mind found its target and gripped his-- The Hood’s arm, no disguise would make him have an identity crisis, thank you very much-- nice and rough.

Scott heard the familiar snap of cartilage and felt only partially bad. If he was thinking more clearly, he would be disgusted with himself. Yes, even The Hood didn’t deserve this level of Scott’s fury. Oh, he definitely deserved to be hit by a truck, but not by Scott. It was mostly due to Scott’s sanity. If he could be this graphic and violent at all, even to the worse possible criminals, that meant he could be that way during other moments, and that was not a territory he wanted to cross into.

Welp, he was here now, and he’ll hate to admit it in the future, but the only thing that brought him out of it was a tiny gasp from a few feet away. Snapping his head up, Scott’s eyes landed squarely on a smaller-than-normal Alan, who was currently clutching his arm to his chest in an emotion Scott didn’t want to figure out at the moment. So much for going and finding Virgil and Gordon.

“Allie, help…” fake him grunted out, only making real Scott growl and tighten his hold (and probably making his case worse). Looking up from the person in his arms, Scott felt his heart split in two at the sight. There was fear and uncertainty in Alan’s blue eyes and boy did it hurt. Scott couldn’t tell if it was because even seeing a potentially-fake Scott being beaten up was bad or if it was because he’d never seen big brother be this brutal, even towards their enemies. Whatever the reason, it involved Scott being the main root of the problem.

Wait, that was The Hood’s plan. Shit… make Scott act past the point of no return in a way that was unfamiliar to Alan so the kid couldn’t be fully sure who was who, and Scott fell right into his trap, hook, line, and sinker.

Fuck.

Bloody well done, Scott, you absolute moron.

Scott faltered a little bit, “A-Alan, I--”

That falter was enough for The Hood to break an arm out of his grip and elbow him in the face. In the brief second of freedom he had, he tried dashing towards Alan, but Scott was too quick for everyone’s good and soon had the imposter back in his arms, both of them struggling in a way that made them look like they were tied into the weirdest knot in existence.

Then, an earthquake struck.

No, literally.

A big shake of the abandoned compound threw the look-a-likes about and subsequently off the platform they were on. The place was old; it didn’t take a lot of weight for that guard rail they made their way over towards while fighting to snap right off. With a yelp, the two of them gripped the edge as much as they could and held on. Crap, I know we talked with Fuse about potentially setting some stuff off, but--

Blinking, Scott saw a familiar mop of blonde hair come into view. Alan was rather panicked, clearly not sure which Scott was the real Scott. Not only that, he had little time to decide which one to save. Goodie, another reason to despise The Hood: not only has he put Alan through weeks of torment, now he’s forcing the kid to decide to either save his oldest brother and biggest hero or his personal torturer.

And Alan won’t know until he picks.

Holy hell, this was getting worse by the second. Hopefully, big brother charm can work its magic and get them the hell out of there.

“Alan, quickly, over here!”

“I can’t hold on for much longer, Alan, hurry!”

The two Scotts glared at one another in the exact same way, not making Alan’s job much easier. Another shake, another slip down the metal cliff, more screams, and Alan looked ready to tear his hair out. Scott watched as the kid looked around rapidly, probably praying for a miracle in the process. Suddenly, the kid jumped when he must have spotted something important. Within the blink of an eye, he was gone and out of their range of visions to retrieve it.

Whatever the hell he noticed better be important, because if just ended up wasting precious time then--

Another shake, probably the last one. Still, it was enough.

Both their grips gave away at the same time, screams identical (God, did he always sound that wimpy?) as they plummeted to their demises. Scott was briefly able to look up to see his brother pop his head over the cliff like a chipmunk again and grab the (albeit broken) arm of The Hood and save him. Dammit, Scott should have expected that, though, that display of anger was uncharacteristic to Alan. Probably terrified him even more than he already was. Fuck, Scott deser--

Suddenly, a rope wrapped itself around Scott’s left arm and stopped his descent. Hard. Hopefully, it was only torn stuff, they didn’t have time to deal with dislocation--

Wait.

Scott wasn’t dead if he could think about these kinds of things.

Blinking, he looked at his arm to see the familiar rope of his grappling hook around his forearm. Moving his eyesight to look past that, he saw the wide, blue eyes of his baby brother struggling to stay on top. The Hood was using his non-broken side to try and climb his way back up to safety. Huh, that’s weird. When did Alan get ahold of that? Scott must have dropped it during his scuffle with--

That’s when it hit Scott.

Alan saved them both.

Alan saved them both.

And it would be all for jack shit if Scott didn’t get his ass up there to help.

Panicking, Scott gripped the rope and started to ascend. He had two working arms and a smother complex to boot; it wasn’t long before he overtook a struggling Hood, who could only use one arm and a weakened brother (that bastard was so lucky Alan had a literal heart of gold).

Flinging his arms over the edge and pulling himself up-- and shrugging off the extra help Alan offered. Save your strength, baby bro-- Scott was in a much calmer search-and-destroy mode. He yanked his evil look-a-like up, turned him on his stomach, pinned him down, and before he could even watch Alan blink, “Sign something.”

There, now he watched Alan blink.

Scott pulled out one of his best ‘big brother’ smiles ever, “Tell me something in ASL. I don’t think The Hood learned that kind of etiquette.”

The body beneath him growled, making Alan jump and Scott tighten not only his hold but his glare. Further prove big brother’s point, why don’t cha? He lost the angry look immediately to grin at Alan once more, who seemed to be slowly getting the picture. With a gulp, the blonde slowly strung together a sentence that Scott had to laugh at, just a little bit.

Damn, could you teach me to fight like that, Scooter?

Nodding his head, Scott had to concede, “Sure. Consider it a graduation present.”

Alan blinked again, and the immense relief that washed over the boy’s shoulders would be enough to banish nightmares for at least a couple of days. Suddenly, The Hood’s disguise blinked out of existence, making both brothers jump that time. Scott didn’t falter in his grip, however. This man was going down right here and now, Scott thought darkly, staring at the prone body beneath his.

Scott saw Alan continue to sign out of the corner of his eye, You know you look like shit, right?

Scott chuckled. Alan was always able to put a smile on his face no matter the circumstances, “Yeah, well, kindred spirits, little bro.”

Scott was probably as pale as Alan was with such lack of sleep and food. Running on what was essentially a prolonged PTSD attack wasn’t healthy in the slightest, and no doubt whatever kind of bruises and scratches The Hood gave him didn’t help, however, seeing hope fill those deep-blue eyes when Alan learned he was truly being saved drowned everything out, including the way those freckles were getting lost in those eye bags.

Yeah, their entire family probably looked like shit, and the recovery process was going to be even shittier, but they were going to suffer through it together as a family would.

That made it all worth it.

Shuffling himself so one arm was free while the other kept The Hood pinned, Scott held it out towards Alan. The flinch the youngest made tore a hole in Scott’s heart that was only slightly patched when Alan leaned into the warmth and safety of his biggest bro. Long recovery process, remember? Regardless, Alan still took to the hug like a dehydrated zebra did a pond, and that was good enough for Scott.

The Hood groaned underneath them.

Yep, good enough.

[newstfionline]

Friday, January 8, 2021

Spending the pandemic talking to yourself? If you live alone, you’re not alone (Washington Post) One bleak pandemic day in November, Aisha Tyler caught herself vacuuming the inside of her freezer. Then she scolded herself. Yes, out loud. Sometimes the Los Angeles-based actress will tell herself to “snap out of it.” On brighter days, she’ll congratulate herself on what a good job she’s doing and call for a celebration. Humans leave little unspoken, and this past year, as many of us have avoided social events and worked from home alone, we’ve been forced to talk out loud to the only person still around to listen: ourselves. Sure, it may take the form of bantering with our pets, scolding the politicians on TV or cajoling our malfunctioning printers, but that’s really just another way of hearing our own voice, helping us discern what exactly is going on inside that head of ours.      What’s going on here? Charles Fernyhough, a psychology professor at Durham University and author of “The Voices Within: The History and Science of How We Talk to Ourselves,” says research shows people talk out loud more when under stress or facing cognitive challenges. It was praying aloud that kept 44-year-old April Harris going during her 32 days in quarantine with a deep cough at the California Institution for Women in Chino, Calif.—not just self-encouragements like “I can do this” and “You got this, April,” but repeated declarations like “by His stripes, I am healed.” “I would pray for our country and for a cure to this virus,” she says in an email from the prison, where she has spent 24 years but had never previously talked out loud to herself. “Now I pray that I am covered by His blood, not wanting to endure that again. I pray for the women who are in isolation now.”

Here’s Why Car Thefts Are Soaring (Hint: Check Your Cup Holder) (NYT) After years of declines, car thefts appear to be surging in cities and suburbs all over the country. The spree, which has been exacerbated by the pandemic, does not appear to be the work of sophisticated crime rings, the police say. Instead, this new wave of car thefts seems to stem from a combination of simple carelessness and the same technological advancement that once made stealing cars nearly impossible: the key fob. The broad adoption of keyless ignitions that began in the late 1990s ushered in a dark era for car thieves. New cars had engine immobilizers that only a microchip in the key fob could unlock, and vehicle thefts quickly plummeted. Technology, it seemed, had largely solved the problem of stolen vehicles. Until people started leaving their fobs sitting in their cup holders. Now, the police say forgotten fobs and keyless technology have contributed to soaring stolen car cases. In Hartford, the police have traced the surge to teenagers joyriding in from the suburbs. In Los Angeles, stolen cars reappear so frequently that the police believe thieves are using them like Ubers. And in New York City, a related but different problem has emerged as more drivers leave their cars running to make pit stops and deliveries during the pandemic, making their cars easy targets for thieves who can simply drive away, even without a fob.

Canadian compensation (CBC) Based on companies that trade on the TSX, in 2019 the average total compensation for the 100 best-paid CEOs of Canadian corporations was $10.8 million, while the average annual salary for a worker in Canada was $53,482 the same year. That means top CEO pay is about 202 times that of the average Canadian worker, which is actually down from the 227 observed the previous year. It also means that at 11:17 a.m. on Monday, the average CEO had already made the annual salary of a typical worker.

An unimaginable moment in America (AP) To see it unspool—to watch the jumbled images ricochet, live, across the world’s endless screens—was, as an American, a struggle to believe your eyes. But there it was, in the capital city of the United States in early January 2021: a real-time breaking and entering the likes of which the republic has never seen. The U.S. Capitol was overrun by violent supporters of Donald Trump, who exhorted them to march on the domed building as lawmakers inside carried out their constitutional duty by certifying his electoral defeat. The proceedings were quickly abandoned as the selfie-snapping mob smashed windows, marched through hallways and rummaged through lawmakers’ desks. Fourteen days before Joe Biden is set to be inaugurated on the very same site, elected officials sheltered in place in their own building. Agents barricaded themselves inside congressional chambers, guns drawn. The stars and stripes—soaring over public property—was lowered, then replaced as a blue Trump flag ascended. In one of the day’s most indelible images, a hoodie-clad trespasser sat in a chair overlooking the Senate floor—minutes after it had been vacated by Trump’s own vice president, Mike Pence—waving his fist in front of a thick, ornate curtain designed to summon the trappings of democracy. The United States on Wednesday seemed at risk of becoming the very kind of country it has so often insisted it was helping: a fragile democracy.

World reacts to US mob (AP) Amid the global outrage at the storming of the U.S. Capitol building by angry supporters of President Donald Trump was a persistent strain of glee from those who have long resented the perceived American tendency to chastise other countries for less-than-perfect adherence to democratic ideals. In China, which has had constant friction with the Trump administration over trade, military and political issues, people were scathing in their criticism of Trump and his supporters, citing both his failure to control the coronavirus pandemic and the mob action in Washington. The Communist Youth League ran a photo montage of the violence at the Capitol on its Twitter-like Weibo microblog with the caption: “On the sixth, the U.S. Congress, a most beautiful site to behold.” That appeared to mock House Speaker Nancy Pelosi for her June 2019 comments in praise of sometimes violent antigovernment protests in Hong Kong. Iran, another country that faces routine U.S. criticism over violations of human rights and democratic values, jumped on the insurrection as proof of American hypocrisy. The semiofficial Fars news agency called the United States a “fragmented democracy,” while Iran’s pro-government Twitter accounts gloated, circulating photos of the mobs with hashtags that included #DownfalloftheUS. “The beauty of democracy?” with a shrug emoji was the reaction tweeted by Bashir Ahmad, a personal assistant to the president of Nigeria, which has seen several coups since independence—including one led decades ago by President Muhammadu Buhari, who most recently entered the office via a vote. Venezuela, which is under U.S. sanctions, said the events in Washington show that the U.S. “is suffering what it has generated in other countries with its politics of aggression.” Several countries, both allies and antagonists of America, issued travel warnings to their citizens.

America the exceptional? (Foreign Policy) It’s not easy to say how much the storming of the Capitol will contribute to the decline in the reputation of the United States abroad. That’s because that decline has already been so steep: A Gallup poll of 29 countries in 2020 found that 20 already had approval ratings of U.S. leadership that are at new lows or that tie the previous record lows.

‘The power of life and death is in the tongue,’ Senate chaplain says (NYT) “We deplore the desecration of the United States Capitol building, the shedding of innocent blood, the loss of life, and the quagmire of dysfunction that threaten our democracy.” Those words, spoken by Barry C. Black, the Senate chaplain, resounded through the government chamber in the early hours of Thursday, as he declaratively closed a joint session of Congress marred by violence with a prayer. A Seventh-day Adventist minister and former Navy rear admiral known for his penchant for brightly colored bow ties, Mr. Black has been the Senate’s official clergyman for nearly two decades. His prayers in the chambers have long been laced with rebukes for the infighting of the lawmakers surrounding him, and his words have often served as a conscience check for those on both sides of the aisle. That was never more true than on Thursday morning, as he warned lawmakers that their words could have great consequences. “These tragedies have reminded us that words matter, and that the power of life and death is in the tongue,” he said. “We have been warned that eternal vigilance continues to be freedom’s price.” His prayer also urged new unity in the face of the deep divisions among lawmakers and within the country, driving home a need to “see in each other a common humanity.”

Twitter, Facebook muzzle Trump amid Capitol violence (AP) In an unprecedented step, Facebook and Twitter suspended President Donald Trump from posting to their platforms Wednesday following the storming of the U.S. Capitol by his supporters. Twitter locked Trump out of his account for 12 hours and said that future violations by Trump could result in a permanent suspension. The company required the removal of three of Trump’s tweets. Facebook and Instagram, which Facebook owns, followed up in the evening, announcing that Trump wouldn’t be able to post for 24 hours following two violations of its policies. Facebook later said that Trump would be banned indefinitely.

Indian farmers take to their tractors (Quartz)  On the other side of the world, a protest of a different kind is taking place in Delhi, as farmers who oppose India’s newly passed agricultural laws plan to march into the city with 2,500 tractor trolleys today. It’s the latest action in nearly two months of demonstrations that have grabbed headlines globally for their scale, but also for their inventiveness—some of the tractors have previously doubled as screens for movie viewing as protesters dug in for the long haul. The latest round of talks between the government and farmers is scheduled for tomorrow. If the two sides can’t agree on a path forward, farmers’ union leaders say a tractor rally and nationwide protests will start on Jan. 26, when the country celebrates Republic Day.

With Mass Arrests, Beijing Exerts an Increasingly Heavy Hand in Hong Kong (NYT) They descended before dawn, 1,000 police officers fanning out across Hong Kong to the homes and offices of opposition lawmakers, activists and lawyers. They whisked many off in police cars, often without telling relatives or friends where they were being taken. Within a few hours on Wednesday, the Hong Kong police had arrested 53 people, searched 76 places and frozen $200,000 of assets in connection with an informal primary for the pro-democracy camp—all under the auspices of Beijing’s new national security law. In one swoop, the authorities rounded up not only some of the most aggressive critics of the Hong Kong government but also little-known figures who had campaigned on far less political issues, in one of the most forceful shows of power in the Chinese Communist Party’s continuing crackdown on the city. The message was clear: Beijing is in charge. The mass arrests signaled that the central Chinese government, which once wielded its power over Hong Kong with a degree of discretion, is increasingly determined to openly impose its will on the city. In the months since the law took effect, Beijing and the Beijing-backed Hong Kong leadership have moved quickly to stamp out even the smallest hint of opposition in the Chinese territory, where the streets once surged with huge anti-government protests. And they have shattered any pretense of democracy in Hong Kong’s political system.

Japan declares emergency for Tokyo area as cases spike (AP) Japan declared a state of emergency in Tokyo and three nearby areas on Thursday as coronavirus cases continue to surge, hitting a daily record of 2,447 in the capital. Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga issued the declaration at the government task force for the coronavirus. It lasts from Friday until Feb. 7, and centers around asking restaurants and bars to close at 8 p.m. and people to stay home and not mingle in crowds.

The next catastrophe has already been predicted (Les Echos via Worldcrunch) The epidemic surprised us, but it was predictable. In the risk report regularly published by the World Economic Forum (WEF) for its annual Davos summit, infectious diseases were listed every year as one of the 10 biggest threats. The report’s description of a virus spreading uncontrolled around the world was exactly what played out in 2020. There were frequent discussions at Davos about this type of danger. For example, in 2016, after the damage caused by Ebola, the general director of the World Health Organization, Margaret Chan, sounded the alarm about the next pandemic. Jim Yong Kim, president of the World Bank, drew a parallel with the Spanish Flu, evoking the risk of an illness that killed 30 million people. Bill Gates, the founder of Microsoft-cum-health philanthropist, insisted on the necessity of training teams in public health management and logistics. If this health crisis is causing so much suffering, it’s because we refused to seriously prepare for it. We didn’t follow the advice of the philosopher and engineer Jean-Pierre Dupuy, who pushes us to think about catastrophe to prevent it from happening. The time has therefore come to think about the next global catastrophes—the less predictable ones.

[leanarg]

Practice Challenge II

((Hi again! So, these are 3 fics in one post! Including my first two rps with @ladyreggiewright​ (our very first one after ages not doing this so asdfghk) and with @wylan-caldwell​ I had so much fun doing both, so thank you, guys! <3 Thanks for reading too, hope you enjoy them as much as I stuggled writing them ;P  Google Docs link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ARTjqveFJ1njDc2LL0PU4C0ShN2jlO9JC1Imt9MDTh8/edit?usp=sharing ))

A CHANGE OF LUCK

“Alright, y’all ready?” Rita said with a loud voice vibrating with nervousness. “The speeches are over. In the next block, Prince Arin will be picking the names.” That was her fifth lap around the entertainment office floor and she just couldn’t stop repeating what Vandy Post had already announced before each round of commercials. I knew she was trying to act authoritative, but seeing her in this state was always amusing.

It wasn’t unusual that the building was bursting with energy this late at night. The pre-press team always stayed working on putting together the bulldog broadsheets content and adding the last details, then sent the whole thing before the deadline to the press team operating on the last floor, where they were all in charge of the printing process. I would dare to say there was activity in this place 24/7. But this particular night, we were focused on The Report. The streets looked almost empty from up here, everyone was at home in front of their TV waiting for the names of the lucky girls randomly picked by a drawing of names out of different crystal boxes. 35 provinces, 35 boxes, 35 names. 

My attention had been focused on Arin’s stern expression. His life was about to be decided by fate, or as many people want to call it, destiny. I wonder what was he thinking, standing there expressionless, willing to uphold his duty. 

Is he excited? Is he nervous? Is he wishing he could run away from that room and leave all this tradition behind?

My name was inside of one of the boxes, so I should had been even more anxious and edgy than Rita herself, but, after the PET Gala fiasco, where: I hadn’t gotten the clues I was so close to getting, I hadn’t finished the job I was supposed to be doing and my one month salary had been reduced to half; I was certain that whoever was in charge of my luck was not very fond of me. 

“They are back!” Rita shouted as soon as Arin’s face reappeared. Everyone in the room fell silent. I scoffed a laugh when I noticed them unconsciously leaning slightly towards the big tv, but I ended up doing the same after adjusting my glasses. One by one the basic information of the selected were being transcribed from the screen to our devices as Arin picked out their papers. 

<< “From Allens, Idalia Moretti, from Angeles, Emily Rose White,... from Honduragua, Callia Adair…” >>

My fingers were moving fast across my cellphone’s keyboard. These were the girls we would be hearing a lot about  from now on and I needed to know everything about them.

<< “From Labrador, Lea…” >>

I froze. My head felt dizzy trying to take in what I had just heard. For the shortest of seconds, everyone’s eyes were on me. I could hear Rita’s voice instructing them to get back to work and maybe someone else was now in charge of The Globe’s blog but at that moment I couldn’t care less about that.

It’s really happening... I made it to the selection!

Finally, I could stand up. I was feeling so much energy inside me that I wanted to run. Suddenly, the lift made a sound and my dad came quickly out of it and … wait, my mom is here? She was carrying my sleepy little brother, Dean. 

I could read the shock on my parents’ faces.“I’m in!!” I said a little too loud but since Mr. Grant was there no one dared to complain. My dad let out a short laugh before extending his arms for an embrace. “Congratulations, Rosie, I knew it would happen, didn’t I tell you V?” He said to my mom. “Grants always get what they want.” 

Ugh, I wish. But I wasn’t going to argue with him right now, so I just offered him a wink.

As soon as my father let go, my mom surrounded me with her free arm. “So how does it feel to be a lady, huh? We have to celebrate this!”

“Well, do ladies feel hungry this late? Cause I wasn’t feeling it a moment ago.” “Yes, let’s leave these guys to work in peace.” my dad said suddenly remembering where we were. After clearing his throat as if that simple gesture was a switch between the dad and the boss, he talked with Rita to make sure someone had replaced me updating the blog, then he congratulated everyone for their dedication and finally wished them good night. “I just hope you are paying me the full day,” I said to my dad as we all headed outside.

“I mean, are you working right now?” He raised an eyebrow, mockingly.

I sighed “I guess Grants can’t always get what they want after all.”  And I meant it in more than one way. 

The next week ran fast. My father and I agreed that I had to keep going to the office as usual, but it wasn’t easy to balance my work and my phone ringing every 5 minutes. More than once I had to ride home in the middle of the day because someone was waiting for me at home. 

First, a man with a very peculiar face came to do some kind of interrogation, which was understandable until we got to the most uncomfortable, personal ones. I almost spit my coffee laughing until I realized he had no intention to leave until he got every answer to each one of the questions on his list. 

Like him, I received a tailor and a doctor; but it wasn’t until the press started to ask for interviews when I realized my life had made a turn of 360 degrees. 

The thing I lamented the most about this odd schedule was that I couldn’t travel to the provinces to interview some of the selected as we had planned, but I did take advantage of every opportunity I had to do deep research about them. 

Some of the names or last names could be found on old newspaper editions, there were tragedies, accomplishments, unfortunate events… I smiled to myself, while I made annotations on my journal, fascinated by all the different interesting lives that were about to gather under the same roof. And I guess somehow that included mine.

The farewell party organized by Labrador’s Mayor seemed more like a political campaign than a real party. I might have fallen asleep during his speech if I hadn’t been texting Harris for the 40th time that week.

The last time I knew something about him was the night of the announcement when he sent me a simple “Congratulations, Lady Lea.” Then as the photographer, he had to go with Rea to the half-tour over the country to cover the selected interviews. 

“How dare you not be here when you are needed,... you lucky mooncalf.”

I looked up to see the crowd from my place on the big platform set in the middle of the Amberly park. It hadn’t been a very good idea, because there were grey clouds gathering over us and the sun was partially covered by them already. 

Someone forgot to check the weather section today.

But the trees surrounding us were decorated with purple and green metallic balloons -the colors of our province- and there were several signs with good wishes so I appreciated the effort. 

Everyone was here; The Globe employees that didn’t like me at all, my family on the first row, my college best friend, Liv had made space on her busy schedule  to come to the event, even my grandmother had sent his chauffeur with presents. That was her way to show support and I honestly didn’t have any complaints.  After the Mayor’s speech, the great boss Maxwell Loyd took the microphone to speak, I rolled my eyes, not caring about the people in front of me. He didn’t waste this opportunity to promote himself and flatter me. I mean, if he really had thought all that about me I would have had a promotion and a raise already, instead I just got ridiculous instructions and a handshake. 

When they both finally finished, the rain had started to pour, plus it was almost time for me to leave for the airport. I buttoned my coat before taking my place behind the microphone to start talking, but the eyes of the lady in charge of my schedule forced me to skip until the end of the speech I had prepared the night before. Every time I was going to make it sound deep and sentimental she made a sign for me to hurry.

“I appreciate your support… I will do my best… thank you for coming.”  

Were the only complete sentences I managed to say under such pressure. There was clapping and cheering afterwards, but there was after the previous boring speeches as well, so I didn’t get too excited about that. 

“Have a good time, my Lea.” My mother said after kissing my brow. I could smell her sweet perfume that I was going to miss. “I will, mom. Take care, I’m only leaving cause I know you are going to be in charge.” I side eyed the two men of the house. Then I kissed my little brother and messed his blond hair. “Bye bye little toad.” He just babbled something and waved his little hand. 

“So, Lady Grant. What do you expect from Prince Arin? Do you secretly plan to drink all the coffee from the Angele’s Palace? Rumor has it your father won’t let you marry until you turn 48 years old do you think Your Highness would wait for you that long?” “Wow, Mr. Grant you ask pretty basic questions, I have been asked the same ones all week.” He gave me a big tight hug and I ignored the wool of his coat feeling  itchy on my cheek. “I’m very proud of you Leana, and of course I’m not talking about this selection situation… I’m sorry about-” I stopped him not wanting to have our little disagreements as today’s last memory. And I also hoped I could change his mind by the time I returned home. “We can talk about that when I come back, dad.” He nodded. “I’m starting to feel bad for our dear Prince Arin.” I scoffed a laugh.

“Lady Grant, we are past the established hours already.” I heard a lady behind me. 

I turned to my friend Liv with an apologetic expression but she just smiled and waved. “I will text you… Bye! The rain started to fall harder but I had read the weather section on the paper this morning so I was properly dressed with boots and a coat over my white shirt and black pants. 

I walked towards a guard who was holding an opened umbrella to cover us with it. He opened the door of the car.  Then he offered to take my bag for me, but I had packed some of my old journals in there among my personal things. “Thank you… What’s your name?” “Finn Ray, my lady.” He answered confused. “I will keep this here with me, Finn.” I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone before entering the car. I guessed he was new at guarding selected, because I noticed him turning to look at the woman in charge of the schedule. She nodded once at him and joined me inside the limousine. 

By the time we got to the airport I had learned that our chauffeur was called Alan Cobb, he had been working for the palace for 3 years on special occasions. He had three kids and his wife was expecting a baby girl. 

The strict lady was Miss Ramirez, she was happily single, obviously tardiness was her biggest pet peeve and she had worked there for 6 years already, but she enjoyed her job and had never thought of doing anything else, although I didn’t quite understand exactly which was her role in the royal offices of Labrador.

She left me at the boarding door after wishing me luck.

The flight to Angeles was long. I shared a plane with 3 others selected, that seemed pretty decent at first sight. 

We had a polite introduction conversation before we took off, but then everyone focused on her own thing; Jen Li, -the Yale law student from Waverly- took advantage of the 8 hours flight to sleep. Alana Hansen looked out from the window almost the whole time lost in her thoughts, and based on the green tone on Regina Wright’s face I guessed she was a risky company for the moment. 

I remembered I had read about her parents' unfortunate plane accident in an old newspaper, they used to be famous politicians and she was an apple that had fallen close to the tree. Hopefully not too close.

So, considering my options I prefer to write in my journals during the whole trip.

As soon as we arrived we were hurried to a room for makeovers. For me it felt more like a day in the salon, nothing drastic was made, just a few lights on my hair, perfect makeup and a stunning blue dress with matching elegant pump heels shoes. 

They did insisted on giving me contact lenses, since I had forgotten to pack mine, so after a long argument with the stylist, Mariel, I decided to wear the contacts and let him enjoy “his creation”. 

In the end, despite the little changes, when he showed me my reflection in the mirror, I had to recognize I was content with the  upgraded version of me.

                                       ESSENTIAL RESEARCH

The tour around the palace was quite short considering its size. I was almost sure that it was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, but the curiosity to see my new room, made me settle with the basic information,

I took a glance down at the little map on my hand. Eloise Hall room 28, second floor. As I headed to the stairs, the decorations and fancy details surrounding me were impossible to ignore. With every step you could find paintings by famous old artists -my mother admired- hanging on the walls, expensive vases and beautiful furniture. 

Looking around I spotted one of the selected quickly scribbling some notes in a notebook. As I got closer I noticed she was my plane mate, Regina Wright. Her green tone had disappeared or maybe covered with makeup and she looked much more secure now that we were down here on earth soil. 

I laughed a little bit inside walking by her side “Hope whatever you are writing is worth a bump on your head.”  

“I hope so too” She said absentmindedly, not looking up from her notebook. After some seconds she took a short look at me, flipped through her notebook and quickly closed it before I could react and lean discreetly to read what she was working on. 

Okay, now I’m curious.

“Excuse me, hi. Leana is it?” She gave me a polite smile. 

“Yes, feeling better... Regina..? I asked faking ignorance. 

She looked at me as she didn’t know why I was asking her that but then just answered, “Splendid. But please, call me Reggie.”

We continue walking up the stairs towards the second floor, while we shook hands, 

“I'm Leana Grant but you can call me Lea or Lee” I said touching the arc of my glasses I had put back on as soon as I left the makeover room.

She nodded. “Alright, Lea. Journalist, correct?” She made her pen click as if she was going to start writing again. I frowned, puzzled. “You too?” 

She chuckled at the question as if I should already know who she was. And the truth was, I did. 

“No,” she finally said, opening her notebook again, adding something, then she continued. “So, what brings you here?”

I was sure Reggie had many qualities but subtlety wasn’t one of them. 

I pressed my lips together, thinking about my motives, which one of them should I tell her? I’m here as an inside informant for The Globe; or, I’m here to live and learn about this whole selection phenomenon… I didn’t even know which one was the right answer.  “... just figured I couldn't miss this whole thing, you know.” 

Half- truths are always safe.  

“Are you here for politics?” I added before she could even think about my answer. 

She looked pleasantly surprised by my question, clearing her throat. “Yes, that is one of the reasons.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “You did your research.” 

I guess it was my turn to feel recognized, but unlike her I didn’t want to be so obvious, so I shrugged. “Your name rang a bell.” 

She looked at me suspiciously, lifting her chin, a slight movement I didn’t quite understand. “Is that so? That's good, I suppose. Best to be prepared.”

“Maybe you are right, I guess you actually did your research. What do you have about me?” I asked directly now, pointing at her notebook casually.

She remained serious. “Oh, just the usual. Occupation, caste, age.  Name, obviously.  There's 35 of us after all. Would be a shame to get anyone mixed up.”

“Well, now most of us are threes and the twos are pretty well known.”

“Yes well, obviously. Was to be expected. It's still an appropriate mix.”

Her statement made me remember her parents somehow, obviously she had their school but I wonder how much she agreed with them. “That’s... a word to describe it, yes.” I answered incredulous, “So where are you staying?” I asked, as I noticed I have already found my room.

We discovered we were room neighbors which I decided was very convenient for me. I liked people who have answers to my questions. 

She was concerned about my acoustic guitar hobby and I assured her I hadn’t brought mine with me. “The music room will do.”  And she assured me her studying was going to be silent. 

The conversation continued but my curiosity was already unbearable, so I opened the door of my room to check it out. I didn’t want to be rude so I invited Reggie inside as we talked.

“What are you working on?” I stepped inside

She followed. “Political Science Major.”

I gave her a glance to let her know that was not the answer I was looking for. 

She blinked with realization. “Oh, I see I misunderstood. Well, actually I was just writing a paper on the pros and cons of capitalism and if our country should focus more on it like we did when we were still called the 'United States'” She air quoted the name.

I looked around my room considering her answer. Suddenly my eyes met with three maids standing in line in the middle of the room. When they saw us they made a courtesy and I nodded at them as a greeting, hoping we can have proper introductions later.

“Hmm the lesser of evils... but the United States not exactly an example to be followed.” I said to Reggie. 

“Exactly.” She said. I noticed her writing a mark in her notebook.  

“A-are you like grading me?” I dared to ask what I had suspected since the beginning, but I didn’t want to believe. It was shocking at first but after the third mark it became amusing.

“Who else do you have in there?” I asked curiously before running next to her to peek at her notebook.  She closed it again. When I looked at her she smiled at me awkwardly “No, of course not. Just remembered something.” Her notebook was behind her back, now out of my reach. She straightened her shoulders before adding, “Well, thank you kindly for your invitation, glad to have met you…”

I stayed there confused, Had I gotten it wrong? Or was I right and she didn’t want me to know? Anyway, I should have said nothing.  “Alright ... glad to meet you too, see you around.” I said worried that she might be uncomfortable now. 

She nodded as she headed to the door. One of the maids hurried to hold the door for her. 

I frowned concerned, I couldn’t just lose a source like her. “Wait for me tomorrow, I think we can walk to the dining room together.”

She turned to give me a frown, seemingly confused by my suggestion. “But I already know where it-” then she smiled. “I will.”

As soon as Reggie left I took out the journal from the pocket of my dress and tossed on the pretty desk by a large window where I peered at the view of the Angeles city.

                                                                                       FOR THE RECORD.

After introductions my maids brought me dinner up to my room. So while I was eating the best creamy mustard chicken I ever had, we had a little chat. 

Among other things we talked about I expressed my surprise when I didn’t see any Royals when we arrived. Liberty, Camila and confirmed the Schreaves didn’t plan to meet any selected tonight, we would have to wait until morning. Queen Anjeli and Princess Ayesha had to leave the palace to attend important matters and Wylan Caldwell in spite of not being a selected was currently living in the Palace. Back in Labrador, I managed between college, work and extra work to fill my schedule, my mother never liked me being out of the house so late at night or sometimes not being able to have a complete breakfast in the morning, I enjoyed being busy and drive my Vespa from one place to another, but it was hard for me to admit that one of the reasons I liked my life that way was that besides when I was concentrated writing notes on my iTypewriter; I was not good at being alone with my thoughts. That’s why when I was a child my mother bought me a ukulele to play when I was feeling anxious, which gave excellent results. Later when I entered college I took a short guitar course with the same purpose. 

Therefore, later that afternoon, when my maids went back to their chores, leaving me alone I decided to leave my room to check out the music room, as I promised Reggie I would do. 

It took me some minutes to find the right door downstairs but my memory had never failed me and it wasn’t going to start now. 

I opened the third door in the west hall and peeked inside. I felt relieved when I saw the big piano in the last corner and dared to walk inside. Besides the piano, there were several instruments resting on their stands spread around the room, most of them to play classical music, but luckily, an acoustic guitar was among them. I was going to pick it up to test it when I spotted shelves full of old vinyl records. 

I walked towards the vinyl record player, it had a beautiful vintage look, it’s big horn imitated the ancient gramophones used during the Victorian years, but I suspected to be a more recent model. 

I noticed someone had left a classic record on, I wonder which one of the Royals had been listening to it as I moved the tonearm onto the outer edge of the disk, the little diamond tip to touch the groove. 

I guess I still remember how to use one of this. 

I stretched my arm and pulled one of the discs from the upper shelf, the others came down with it and  << "KNEEE-KNEEE!!" >>

The blaring sound of violins vibrated around the room making me wince for the annoying sound filling my ears.

“Damn!” I covered my ears while trying to find a way to turn the bloody record player off before my head exploded. Overwhelmed by the sound I went on my knees and stretched my hand behind the furniture looking desperately for the plug, but before I could find any the music stopped. 

I stood up still touching my ears 

Have I gone deaf? 

“I take you didn’t mean to do that.” I heard someone say behind me. 

Okay, I haven’t 

I turned around to find a guy eyeing me warily, from the corner of my eye I noticed a laptop and a couple of heavy leather books that weren't on the table before. 

“I was considering turning it on but it made the decision for me,” I said without explaining. 

At that moment, a couple of guards came into the room alarmed. They scanned the room quickly before looking at us puzzled. 

Wylan followed my gaze and turned to them, slightly. “Just a mishap. We’re fine.” He acknowledged with a wave of his hand. I let out a sigh of relief as they left the room to return to their posts.

“First time using a record player?” He asked to continue teasing

I gave him a deadpan look. “Ha-ha I take that the last person who played it had some hearing problems.” Before I crouched to pick up the rest of the vinyl records still scattered on the carpeted floor, I noticed a smile tugging at his lips that didn’t last.

In a minute he was bending in front of me to help. “You picked some good ones.”

Suddenly we looked at each other for a second, I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at his for a second trying to figure any sign of sarcasm in them, and he just had the word “awkward” written all over his face. Obviously I was making him feel uncomfortable. 

I would have laughed if I hadn’t been so busy trying to read him. 

“I like classics- acoustic to be precise.” I finally said with a shrug. “Do you own any of these?”

“This John Mayer one is mine. I have some other ones too. They’re over there.” He gestured to the rack behind me, then stood up with the vinyls he helped pick up.

I raised my eyebrow and nodded approvingly. “You have some taste, I will give you that.” I looked up at him, waiting for him to offer his hand for me to help me stand, but apparently living in a castle was no guarantee of anything, so I just stood up slowly, brushing my dress. 

“Some were gifts I grew to love.” He acknowledged, holding the vinyls out for me. “I’d recommend keeping the volume down before you turn it on next time.”

I took the discs to put them back in its place on the shelves “Well, you should put a sign somewhere,” I joked, a bit annoyed by his recommendation. 

I adjusted my glasses and stayed standing there, admiring the vinyl records once more. My curious mind wondered about the Prince. “Which ones are Arin’s?”

“I’m not sure. He might not own any.” I caught him glancing at his things he had left on the table before back to me. “Might be a good question to ask him yourself.”

Or you’re just evading the question. But fortunately, one of the things my job had teached me was to have thick skin so I wasn’t going to let him get away so easily. 

“You really don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?” I asked with an amusing tone.

He let out a small sigh, relenting a bit. “He likes The Killers. There’s probably a vinyl or two of those in here if you really need a good conversation starter.”

I faked a grimace “ugh! that piece of information should’ve hurt…” I said mockingly before adding. “I guess some advice for tomorrow’s interview is completely out of the table.” 

“Depends on what advice you’re looking for,” he let out, surprising me. 

I started to walk around the room still looking at him, considering my answer. “I don’t know, you are his friend... knowing a little bit about his personality would help,” I said casually, as if I didn’t already have thousands of questions listed in my head. 

But somehow he knew I did. “I’ll answer one question you have. Just one.”

“So generous …” I said more to myself than to him. My hand went unconsciously inside the pocket on my dress and my fingers touched my journal inside of it, purely out of habit. Of course, I wasn’t going to take it out so I crossed my hands in front of me as I resumed my walking around the room. 

“Okay…” In my mind I was looking for a single question that could indirectly tell me things about Arins personality … and why not about Mr. Uncomfortable himself too. 

“How do you start getting along back in college, like how did you become friends?”

Suddenly he let out a laugh, startling me. I frowned at first, but then I decided it wasn’t so bad, it picked my curiousness further.

I looked at him genuinely amused and he begined, “We were both going for runs and without knowing, I drifted a little too close. I was listening to music and not paying attention. His bodyguard sort of…” He paused to bring his fist to his neck simulating a punch. “And took me down.” I could see he was amused, for real. 

I laughed picturing the scene on my mind, considering all his previous teasing and had to admit it was a little bit entertaining to do so. “Ouch! His bodyguard does look ... fierce.” I commented remembering the man’s complexion I had seen several times on TV.

I wait for him to continue before asking, “what happened next? What did Arin say?”

His smile was more like a ghost on his face now, not physically there but somehow still present. “He apologized. After that we found out we shared a couple classes together and I offered to help him study for exams.”

“That’s an epic story… I bet it left you marked for some days.” I made a grimace, touching my neck, imagining the pain.

“Swallowing hurt, to say the least,” he said, remembering. After a minute, he combed a hand through his hair. “ Did that satisfy your question?”

“Hmm yeah, it was good, for now” I answered scoffing a laugh. The truth was I didn’t expect to enjoy his story that much, but I just couldn’t settle with only one question, but it wasn’t convenient to push more questions on him now. 

Fortunately he didn’t refuse, he just rolled his eyes at me, amused. “Alright, well I have to get back to work. At least try to not deafen the entire palace again.”

“I can’t promise anything.” I let out, finally taking the acoustic guitar from its stand, while he turned to gather his things.

“Reassuring.” He gave me a side glance and started walking out the room, he offered a two fingered salute before disappearing behind the opened door. 

After a second, while looking down at the guitar already in place on my lap, I compelled,  “Wylan... thanks!”

“You're welcome.” 

I heard him say from the hallway just before I started strumming the guitar strings, hoping its sound was enough to help me survive the first night.