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pagingevilspawn · 3 years ago

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how's your heart after breaking mine?

ts x jolex week 21

day one: fearless - mr. perfectly fine (taylor's verion) (from the vault)

wc: 2.5k

pairing: Jo Wilson/Alex Karev. Alex Karev/Izzie Steven (mentioned)

summary: years after they last saw each other, jo and alex reunite at a conference, and while she is still struggling from her heartache, he seems to be mr. perfectly fine.

rating: general audiences

category: angst.

warnings: angst, no happy ending, alcohol consumption.

A/N: guess who finished this just now? me. that's who. I was actually working on this one long before the announcement for this event came out, but it gave me the motivation to continue this! Alex is unintentionally an ass in this and for that, i’m sorry. Anyways… hope you enjoy! (first part's pretty crappy, but after that it gets better.)

(this was also proofread, like...once, so of there are a plethora of errors i apologize)

____

The absolute last thing Jo wanted right now was to attend a medical conference in Salt Lake City, Utah. There were multiple reasons why she should’ve said no. One; she had just started her second year of her OB GYN residency a few weeks prior, and there were a very limited number of lectures on her new line of study where she was headed. Two; she now held an absolute hatred for the Seattle Tacoma International Airport, since it was the place where her ex-husband stood before her, placed a soft kiss on her lips and promised to see her in a couple of weeks, lying to her face about seeing his mother in Iowa, when in reality he was going to see his ex-wife and kids, never really planning on returning home.

It was ironic really; how not even two years ago, she was standing in front of gate 48, saying goodbye to him, and now she stood in the same spot, in front of the exact same gate, with him nowhere near her side as she glared up at the same exact entrance she last saw him at.

(She also now hated the number forty-eight)

But, since Meredith had been hounding her non-stop about attending this event, she gave in. Because how was she supposed to say no to the woman who had barely survived the pandemic? Along with a plethora of other things she was too lazy to memorize. (The answer was that she couldn’t. She felt guilty for leaving Meredith behind for OB, so she now did whatever her former mentor wanted, even if more than two years had passed) If Meredith Grey asked for something, Meredith Grey got it. She was turning back into the intern who cried fake tears and would do anything to earn her approval, and Jo was not a fan.

“It’ll be good for you Wilson. You need to leave that loft of your’s and go somewhere Wilson, blah blah blah,” she mutters to herself as she shows the attendant her ticket, not even bothering to return the smile, settling on brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear instead. The messy bun on the top of her head bounced in place, and she felt like a college student after a night of studying, but rather than books tucked under her arm it was a neck pillow and a carry-on.

She shuffles into her seat, thankful that it was an aisle one before letting her eyes shut, trying to catch a wink of sleep in an attempt to make up for the less than few hours she had gotten the night before. It proves to be unsuccessful, because the businessman sitting next to her ate his chips so loud she had to restrain herself from coiling into herself every time a chip crunched beneath his teeth, and the toddler behind her continuously managed to kick her seat, no matter how many times his mother told him to stop.

After three hours of loud chewing, seat kicking, and crying babies, she lands in Salt Lake, taking in a deep breath when she finally escapes the crowded airport and is met with humid air. She picks up her rental car, and arrives at her hotel not long after, immediately tossing her bags into the corner and sprawling onto the bed. Eventually, she moves to unpack her clothes and other necessities, casting a glance at the clock which read 10:37.

Taking a look around the room, she decided that nothing more needs to be done; all of her makeup is laid out for the morning, and what she chose to wear is already hanging up in the closet, freshly ironed and wrinkle-free. She yawns, crawling under the covers and flicking off the light, sleep coming easily.

When she wakes up the next morning to her alarm clock going off, she’s freshly rested and in a better mood than she normally was when she had to wake up before nine. The early morning sun beats down onto her face, and she knows that if she wanted to get to the first lecture on time, she needed to start getting ready sooner rather than later.

With a sigh, she begrudgingly gets out of bed, hopping in a quick shower and changing into her clothes. She adds some soft waves to her hair, in the hopes that it made her look more put together than she felt. It didn’t seem that just because she got hours of sleep made up for the fact that she would rather be curled up in the soft sheets of her bed at home than the stiff ones the hotel provided.

It doesn’t take long until she’s arrived in the lobby, where doctors all around her were dressed in firmly pressed suits and skirts. Tables advertising different events throughout the day were lined up and down the hallways, fellow surgeons and mentees passing out little pamphlets with information about their courses littering the pages.

Jo passes by a few stands displaying lectures on the OBGYN field, mentally making a list of the ones she would like to attend.

A quick glance to her watch tells her that the first item on her list was starting soon, and with that she dumps the now-empty coffee cup she had ordered a few minutes prior as a pick-me-up, and shuffles into the seat of the auditorium, the chairs around her filling up quicker than she expects.

It’s only a few minutes later Dr. Maria Cavanaugh steps out onto the stage, silencing the crowd after a round of applause. Jo leans back into her seat, feeling grateful that Meredith had pushed her to go to this conference.

If her whole weekend is spent listening to experts talk and teach about her new specialty, she thinks she’s going to enjoy it.

____

It’s hours and a multitude of lectures later when she exits another grand room, fellow surgeons beside her chatting about the new information they’d acquired. She feels a small smile grace her lips as she realizes that the excited squeals could only come from the med school students that had been invited from the nearby college.

She pulls out her phone, seeing a text from Link and Meredith, both along the lines of that they hoped she arrived safely and that she enjoyed her time away from home. She responds, pocketing her phone and making her way to the hotel bar, settling into one of the few empty seats and ordering a whiskey sour, thanking the bartender when it's placed in front of her not even a minute later.

She sips the drink slowly, feeling some leftover tenseness from sitting all day leave her body as the alcohol starts to flow through her veins. She was far from drunk, but even saying tipsy felt like too much of a stretch.

Pleasantly buzzed, she decides on, taking another sip of her drink, making a brief second of eye contact with a man on the other end of the bar. He raises her glass with a slight nod of his head, and she does the same. She’s tempted to continue; take use of the way the man’s making subtle glances to the seat next to him when her ears pick up another conversion from a few feet away, freezing her in place, glass nearly dropping to the floor.

“Do you want anything?”

“Just a water’s fine. I’m gonna go talk to Dr. Conwell about some of the research her and her team were talking about.”

She turns in her seat, against her better judgment. She watches as he kisses her cheek before leaning against the bar’s counter a few feet away.

She feels as if ice had just been dropped down her back —frozen in place, unable to move as she watches Alex drum his fingers on the dark wood, head nodding along to the soft tune playing through the speakers. He grabs his drinks from the bartender; two waters, one with ice and one without, about to walk towards the woman he was with earlier when he spots her.

“Jo?” he questions, blinking multiple times as if to see if it was really her, and not a trick of the light.

She wants to run when he makes his way over to her. She wants to run, and scream, and throw her drink in his face. But instead, she places a tight, thin smile on her lips and acts as if nothing was wrong.

“Alex, hi!” She turns to face him, her voice too high for her enthusiasm to be true, but if he knows it he doesn’t make any move to show it.

He runs a hand through his hair —it's longer than the last time she saw it, a bit of grey speckled in so lightly that it wouldn’t be noticeable to someone who wasn’t looking.”I uh, I didn't know you’d be here.”

She wants to roll her eyes, but refrains. “Well,” she spins her drink with the straw, watching as the ice cubes clink against the glass “The feeling’s mutual.”

“How are you?” He asks after a few beats of silence, and she wants nothing more than to yell at him that he couldn’t talk to her like this —like they were old friends who had lost contact after a while, and were due for a catch up. Because they weren’t old friends. They were so far from friends that someone could build a bridge with the amount of space they had between them.

“Fine,” she lies through her teeth, her heart nearly beating out of her chest in nervousness. She was worried that she was going to break down at any second, spew the words that she had said to Carly in anger at him if he looked at her any longer as if things were okay between them.

“You?” she questions, not interested in the answer, sipping her drink similarly to how she had the night of Bailey’s wedding, the unwelcome memory of the start of their relationship blossoming to the front of her mind.

He sips his water, “Good. I’ve been good.”

With his hand clasped around the glass she catches sight of the pristine, shiny gold ring that sits on his fourth finger, and she has to fight back the growing lump in her throat that threatens to escape.

“Congrats,” she says instead, eyebrows pinched together as she nods towards the ring, a tell that always told whether or not her words rang true.

He seems to have forgotten that, and takes her words as a compliment. He gives her a small smile, “Thanks.”

Jo wants to laugh, because this was so far from the Alex Karev she had known, the man in front of her unfamiliar and so, so different from the one she married years ago. The Alex she knew would’ve never ordered a water instead of a beer, or act as if everything was okay between them when it was so far from it.

He’d changed, and she couldn’t say that she liked it.

“How are the kids?” she asks, and she can tell that she’s surprised him. He looks taken aback for a moment, before smiling gently and reaching into his pocket for his phone. “They’re great,” he says, pulling up a photo of them, the twins smiling brightly into the camera.

“That was at their birthday party last week,” he explains, and she notices the large 7 balloons that are floating in the background.

“He looks like you,” she comments about the boy. He grins, and she wants nothing more than to slap him for not being able to see that she’s so obviously hurting, that her heart is breaking inside of her chest. That she selfishly wants him to say that he made a mistake, that he was in love with her, not Izzie. But her life wasn’t a trashy romance novel, and even if it was, Alex was never one to admit to his faults, his pride and ego too large to have it bruised in such a way.

She had always wondered what he had been up to after he had left. If he was okay. She’d imagined different futures for him, some including Izzie and the kids, some of them not. She’s even naively envisioned ones with her and the children they had always talked about having one day.

Somedays, when she was feeling worse for wear, she had wished that he was miserable —that he and Izzie weren’t together and as far as they went communication-wise was a phone call to see who had the kids that week; that he was as alone and bitter as she was.

But instead, here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. The man who had looked her in the eyes and told her he would never go away.

Here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. Married to the woman he had left her for, a shiny gold ring on his finger instead of neat, polished wood.

For the past two years she’d been picking up the pieces of herself that he had shattered and left behind, only just starting to put herself back together, and here he was, Mr. Perfectly Fine. While she was piecing together her shattered heart, he was picking up her, the woman he had left her for.

She had thought that he was different from the rest; different from everyone who had ever left her. But he wasn’t —the man she had thought was so different was so exactly the same as everyone else.

“I’m sorry, Jo.” he says, and she has the urge to laugh —laugh because he wasn’t sorry, she could tell. He was sorry that he left her and caused her pain, sure. But he wasn’t sorry that he had done it, that he had married Izzie again and lived with her and his kids on a farm in the middle of Kansas. He wasn’t sorry about that at all.

Mr. Insincere Apology so he didn’t look like the bad guy.

She acts as if she believes him, giving him another tight smile, and lies through her teeth once more. “It’s fine Alex. It’s in the past.”

Jo checks phone, making a face when she ‘realizes’ the time, eager to get out of there as soon as she could. “I need to go, early morning,” she fibs, and she internally rolls her eyes at how he believes her. While he seemed to have forgotten everything about her, she still remembers every detail about him.

“It was nice seeing you again Jo,” he’s playing with the sleeves of his jacket and his eyes meet hers, and for less than a second it’s almost enough to break her resolve.

Another tight smile graces her lips, and she begins to walk away when her body fights her mind and she finds herself leaning down, her lips against his ear.

“I’m glad it was worth it, Alex.”

Her voice is harsh and bitter, yet broken, and she doesn’t need to look at him to know that his face has fallen, and he’s realized that everything she’d told him that night was a lie. She turns and lets the tears fall silently, making her way back up to her room with a head full of thoughts about her ex-husband, about Alex Karev.

About Mr. Perfectly Fine.

____

@thejolexgroupchat #tsjolexweek21

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emilynightshade89 · 2 years ago

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A, C, K, and U for everyone from the abcs list!

Thanks love! <3 <3 <3

A. Their Full Name

~ Wendy Jessamy Conwell McCoy (Daybreakers) she prefers not to include her biological fathers name on records due to their rocky history.

~ Rosemary Perdita Gonzales (Streets of Fire) Perdita in Latin means "lost" which i think fits with Rose and her journey of finding a true home for herself.

~ August Bartholomew Ripley (Hellboy) he doesn't like Bartholomew much, but it was in memory of his grandfather who had passed on the day of his birth.

~ Augustine Beatrice Ripley (Hellboy) Beatrice in honor of her grandmother who passed the same day she was born. she likes it ok.

C. Height

~ based on their face claims ~

Wendy McCoy (Winona Ryder): 5 ft. 3 1/2 inch. she teeny <3

Rose Gonzales (Natalia Reyes): 5 ft. 2 inch. she teenier, smol and angry <3

August Ripley (Willem Dafoe): 5ft. 8 1/2 inch. a short king <3

Augustine Ripley (Jessica Chastain): 5 ft. 4 inch. tall lady <3 <3 also at this point i think I'm just projecting my own shortness on my babies xD

K. One of Their Pet Peeves

Wendy McCoy: Ignorance in a dire situation. Wendy cannot stand people who don't think about others. She doesn't want to be stuck working with anyone she can't trust which is why she prefers to go out by herself before meeting Elvis.

Rose Gonzales: People asking about her past. You've honestly have got to know her for a pretty lengthy amount of time before she even feels the tiniest amount of security to tell you about her childhood. Much of it is shrouded in mystery and the rest is just too painful to bring up. She gets absolutely furious when someone tries to dig up what she tries so hard to bury.

August Ripley: Situations where things spiral out of control. Weather with his own powers or a fight getting out of hand, August gets overwhelmed and increasingly frustrated when more damage is done than good.

Augustine Ripley: People taking her for granted. She knows herself and her strengths but gets irritated when she gives out advice but isn't listened to and the situation proceeds to get worse. She finds working with the B.P.R.D. to be more troublesome and is more inclined to join Hellboy and the others when they go out without an authorities' clearance.

U. Are they a Morning or Night Person?

Wendy McCoy: Night person, she loves the quiet moments and surreal feelings in time were everyone sleeps, and she still tinkers on in the garage while her music softly plays on the record player.

Rose Gonzales: Night Person, mostly due to her profession as a thief but she prefers to work in the garage during the morning were she's by herself.

August & Augustine Ripley: Morning people for life. They both love getting up to see a sunrise or the fog roll away into the woods as they sit out on the front porch with some coffee. Getting up in the morning allows them both some normalcy before they start to face the oddities they live with.

#thank you so much for the asks!! :D #shut yer face moony #my ocs #wendy mccoy (daybreakers)#rosemary gonzales (streets of fire)#augustine ripley (hellboy)#august ripley (hellboy)

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backtothestart02 · 5 years ago

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Mixed Drink - 10/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: The next few chaps WA will be physically apart, but there will be snippets here and there of them, so I hope you still enjoy!

Commissioned by @andromidagalaxie :) Thank you, love!

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 10 -

Barry opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and tried to remember where he was at and what day it was; what time would be even better.

One, he was in a room with several other agents, as he observed by forcing himself to look around the room. Two, it was Monday night. Three… He lifted his arm to see the time, then realized his watch was the old-fashioned kind where you had to wind it if you wanted to change it by hours or minutes. He’d neglected to do either when he’d arrived earlier that day, unable to sleep because his mind was still buzzing with Iris.

“Do you have to go?” she’d asked, nuzzling close to him on the private plane landing as the wind whipped her hair around her shoulders.

“I want to say no,” he returned, warming her back with his hands.

“But you can’t.” She sighed and pulled back, tears shining in her eyes and the smallest of happy smiles on her face so he wouldn’t stay for her. “I understand.”

“One month, and it’ll be like I never left,” he told her.

She swallowed and nodded. “One month.”

Thinking back to that memory almost 24 hours prior, Barry wished he could force time to move fast enough for a month to fly by. But of course, maybe that wasn’t the best idea either, seeing as he had no idea how he was going to land an assignment back in Central City or even in the U.S. in exactly a month.

He sighed openly, but it was drowned out by other agents chatting with each other, and so his plight was unseen to every person but one – his godsend: Felicity Smoak.

“Hey, handsome.” She nudged him after rolling her chair over.

He turned his head and gave her one of the ‘handsome smiles’ she used to fawn over when he’d first joined the agency.

“How did yesterday with Iris go?” she asked, propping her chin in her hand.

He shrugged.

“Oh, come on. I threatened all manner of nasty things and reminded that asshole of a boss how irreplaceable you are to the team and how you never ask for anything, and-”

“Okay, okay.” He allowed himself a laugh. He figured he did owe her something. “It was good, Felicity.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Good?”

“Yeah. Good, really good, great. Perfect. A dream.”

He’s planning on shrugging off the last words as sarcasm, but they across too sincere as they rolled off his tongue.

“A dream, huh?” she teased, leaning closer. She wiggled her eyebrows when he turned to look at her.

“Okay, stop. Stop.”

But now he was laughing, and she was grinning like the wise woman that she was, so he couldn’t bring himself to berate her more than that.

Even if he had wanted to though, a resounding whoosh silenced everyone in the room. In walked Kevin, his supervisor James, and a few bodyguards. Their presence made it almost seem like the room had gone dark and there was a spotlight on them where they stood on the slightly raised platform, microphones bundled together by their faces.

But of course, that wasn’t the case. The lights had not changed, and there was no spotlight. There were no microphones, and the floor they stood on was so slightly lifted that one wouldn’t even know it was unless they were walking on it themselves and felt the small ramp beneath their feet.

“Good evening,” James – Mr. Olsen – announced. “I hope you’ve enjoyed your free day on one of London’s least rainy days this year.” He smiled broadly, trying to evoke laughter maybe but only a few smiles and quiet chuckles emerged from the agents.

Aside from Kevin searching the room for Barry and once he found him, glaring, Barry found himself unmoved by the process. He was annoyed by his boss once again, but damn him if he’d give the pleasure of showing him.

“I must congratulate all of you on our latest mission,” Mr. Olsen continued. “I know it was somewhat out of your comfort zones to be pulled from all over the world to conduct this mission, but given how satisfactory an ending it was, I do not regret that choice. I also assure you that there are more than enough assignments to dole out in the coming weeks and even months to make up for one week in Missouri.”

He turned to face the man standing slightly behind him.

“Mr. Draeger will tell you more about the future developments of your assignments.”

Barry sat up slowly as the start of a cold sweat formed on the back of his neck.

“Thank you, James.” Kevin smiled politely then directed his gaze to the people laid out before him.

“As Mr. Olsen said, your assignments have multiplied in number over the last week. In the past we’ve separated agents in order to get more done faster. After the success of Monday night, however, we – well, I – feel it would be better to form more teams, just with less agents on them. Therefore, unless given special permission, all assignments going forward will be done in teams of three to five individuals. When you receive your assignment, you will also receive who you will be working with and will be given an additional day to get to know each other and who will be operating what part of the mission if you deem it necessary.”

Horrified, Barry nearly lifted out of his seat.

“And for those of you,” Kevin’s gaze landed right on Barry, “Who feel you have a right to continue things as they have always been, this new order be damned, well… We can meet privately and discuss it, but I don’t believe you will like the outcome.”

Barry leaned back in his seat, his toes digging into the bottom of his shoes as his hands clenched around the arms of his chair. He stared at Kevin long and hard until the man looked away and started addressing questions before leaving with Mr. Olsen and his bodyguards.

Felicity placed her hand over one of his and curled her fingers into his palm.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, trying to calm him. “You’re with me. I told him that’s how it’s going to be, and he agreed. There might be more people, but it’s always going to be you and me, okay?”

Barry nodded once, unable to form words.

Felicity was the only one he trusted in this god-forsaken agency.

He’d always gone it alone.

…

Iris sat, nibbling her bottom lip, as her hands wrapped tightly around the coffee mug she held in her hand. A barista came by to ask if she wanted a refill, and she shook her head, smiling politely just as she had ten minutes ago.

She couldn’t believe she was doing this. She hadn’t worked at CC Jitters since she’d been working her way through college. Was she really going to come back to it after she’d come so far as a reporter? Just to make ends meet?

Just, Iris?

She winced at her inner voice and reminded herself of Patty and what the poor girl was willing to do so that Iris could fight for the job of her dreams. She couldn’t let her work herself to death. Police work was no easy thing, and Patty wasn’t exactly at the top of the food chain anyway. She could be denied, for all she knew.

No, she needed to do this. She knew how to work at a coffee shop, and she was good at it. She would keep looking for other jobs on the side, but she had to be able to bring in money until that happened. Mrs. Kepper was a friendly employer, and she loved Iris. This was a solid in.

If Iris wanted it.

“Iris? Iris West?”

Iris looked up and saw a familiar face. The corners of her lips tipped up in a smile.

“Stacy?”

Stacy Conwell. Part of the popular crowd with Iris in high school, she hadn’t felt the need to work because her father was so wealthy that she wanted for nothing. That was until he informed her that he wasn’t planning on paying for her college tuition, and if she hadn’t saved any of the money he doled out for her regularly before then, she would have to work to make her way through school.

Stacy had been scandalized, but Iris had easily gotten her a job at Jitters. They’d had fun together throughout college and lost touch after that when Stacy went to follow her dream as a Broadway star in New York City six months after graduation.

Obviously, something had gone wrong because in her hands was clutched a filled-out employee application that nearly mirrored Iris’ sitting on her table.

After an affectionate hug, Stacy sat down at the booth across from her and smiled wryly.

“Who thought we’d be back here after all this time?”

Iris shook her head. “Not me.”

“We won’t be here forever,” Stacy quoted. “When we leave, we’ll never come back!”

“Unless we want coffee!” Iris faked a giggle and suppressed the tears forming in her eyes.

“Everyone has a breakdown, I suppose,” Stacy offered.

“Before the age of thirty, though?”

Stacy winced.

“Please tell me you’ve been more successful than I have,” Iris pleaded.

“Only if being told I can’t sing and need acting classes five times in the last year count as success.”

“Oh, honey.” Iris placed her hand over Stacy’s.

“I suppose there’s also the five boyfriends I went through in the last two years before that…”

“Please tell me you dumped them.”

Stacy sighed and looked out the window.

“If only I’d had the honor.”

Iris blew out a puff of air.

“Completely blindsided you?”

“Every. Time.” She shook her head. “But enough about me. How’s your mom?”

Iris leaned back in her seat. “Not speaking to me.”

Stacy’s eyes widened. “Still?”

Iris nodded.

“And your dad?”

“He wants to be on my side, but let’s be real, he’s always been afraid to defy my mother. She’s his ‘angel’ and the ‘mother of his children’.”

Stacy shook her head in disbelief.

“Should I even ask about Wally?”

Iris shrugged and leaned into her hand propped up on the table.

“Wally doesn’t want to get caught in the middle. He’s on my side, but he’s always been a mama’s boy and doesn’t want to stop now.”

“Damn.”

“So!” She straightened and collected her application papers together, summoning courage where there was none, especially given the most recent topic. “Shall we submit these things or what?”

Stacy smiled slowly, amused but also feeling quite the same.

“Let’s do it.”

The barista at the counter – an girl named Jade with long honey tresses – informed Stacy and Iris that Mrs. Kepper wasn’t in today and was in fact taking the rest of the week off.

Iris pouted, but Stacy kept the momentum going by telling Jade thanks and that they’d stop in early next week in case their applications got lost in a stack of papers on their former boss’s desk. Jade smiled timidly before addressing a new customer in line.

“Well, that sucks.”

“You were expecting her to be in?”

Iris nodded. “She always used to be in on Mondays.”

“Yeah…but it’s been years, Iris. Literal years.”

She sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

Stacy looped her arm through hers.

“Why don’t you let me buy you a beer? We can play some pool or darts, flirt with a cute guy or two-” Her eyes widened when she saw Iris’ flustered reaction – how she rubbed her lips together and tucked a few locks behind her ear. “Unless you have a guy you’re not telling me about.”

“What?” she squeaked. “No-”

“Uh-uh-uh, I know that squeak! You have a boyfriend!”

Now she was really flustered. “It’s recent, okay? Like, only in the last week. And long distance to beat.”

Stacy sighed contently. “You have a boyfriend. Thank God. It’s about time you moved on from that asshole.”

Iris gave her a look.

“Who we are not talking about, because we have better news!” She pulled her along down the street to a bar. “Tell me about your boyfriend.”

Just as Iris opened her mouth to speak, her phone rang an unfamiliar jingle.

“Oh my God, is that him?” Stacy urged. She tried to look to see what the number was, but Iris pulled it away. “Is he calling from a burner phone?”

Iris frowned. “It’s not him.”

“Answer the damn thing, Iris. You’re paying if I’m right.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “It’s not him, but fine. With the little money I have to my name, I will buy us both drinks if it’s him.”

Stacy smiled gleefully as Iris turned away from her and walked a few feet before taking the call.

“Hello?”

“What are you wearing?” a male voice asked huskily through the phone.

She gulped, heat filling her face as her panties grew damp.

“Barry?”

She could hear him shuffling around, grunting and huffing as if he was trying to get into position.

“I’m touching myself, Iris.”

She braced her hand on the brick wall beside her, her legs suddenly like jelly.

“It’s been a rough day, and I need you. Please just…”

Stacy came into view. “Is it him?” she asked, though from the look on Iris’ face it was obvious it was.

Iris handed some money over and tried to regain her bearings.

“I’ll meet you at Hal’s…in let’s say half an hour? Will your phone sex be done by then?”

Iris waved her off, but Stacy just chuckled and walked off, probably intending to stick to that non-deal they’d just made.

“Iris?” she heard in her ear, slightly less husky since she hadn’t spoken in a while.

“I’m here, Barry.” She bit her bottom lip as she snuck into the back alley between buildings a block away. It looked relatively clean and no one was in sight. “I’m in public.”

She could practically feel his grin through the phone as he purred.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

#westallen #fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #mixed drink #chapter 10 #commissioned by andromidagalaxie

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promptsforthesoul · 5 years ago

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"It’s fun to dream. Growing up transgender in a small, conservative town, under the heel of an abusive father, Abra Collins had always dreamed of a different life. A life where she could be herself, surrounded by those she loved. With no small effort, Abra, now in her late twenties, has built that life. She and her three dearest friends run Cluster, a combination coffee shop, music venue, and vintage toy store. It’s a safe, secure, and joyful place where four misfits can live life as they desire. It’s everything Abra ever dreamed. But there’s a problem with dreams: Eventually, you have to wake up.When two of her friends announce they are leaving town, they inadvertently expose the cracks in her seemingly stable life. Long-buried feelings begin to crawl their way to the surface, old wounds reopen, and life-long relationships fracture. Suddenly finding herself trying to navigate a world she no longer recognizes, with no one to help her but her slightly-unhinged ex, Abra must figure out what to take with her, what to leave behind, and most of all, who she has become. Steeped in geek culture and brimming with heartbreak and wry humor in equal measure, Jessica Conwell’s debut novel explores identity, love, friendship, and family in all their beautiful, messy forms."

Cluster https://www.amazon.com/dp/1095171690/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_apa_i_pMLnDbTHZNV88

#book #recommendation #book recommendation #to read #read #lgbt #transgender #transgender representation #LGBTQ+#lgbtq community #writing #write #writing inspiration #writing prompts

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localcuttlefish · 3 months ago

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A cobbled together sketch page of what I remember clearly from L$T, plus a snippet from @halcyionic ‘s most iconic trip.

#local cuttlefish is drawing again #emursive #life and trust #l$t #conwell coffee #cw blood #cw injury #immersive theatre #we need to stop talking about Milky Harold /j

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fuckyeahanarchistposters · 7 years ago

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This Kettle Won’t Settle – North Carolina Week of Solidarity, July 20th-27th

An international call has been put out to organize a Week of Solidarity with J20 Defendants. July 20th marks six months from the initial arrests during Donald Trump’s inauguration. In that time, what began with the mass arrest of over two hundred people and a single count of felony rioting (which is extreme in its own right) has developed into a massive federal case of state repression. A superseding indictment returned by a grand jury on April 27th filed eight felony charges against every defendant in the case: conspiracy to riot, riot, incitement to riot, and five counts of property destruction. The total maximum sentencing for all eight charges amounts to over 75 years in federal prison. This is an effort by the prosecution to coerce as many pleas as possible from co-defendants. Despite this, nearly two hundred defendants in the case have secured trial dates over the course of three status hearings this past June, and are committed to fighting these charges in court.

Here in North Carolina, our Week of Solidarity will be a platform to launch #DropJ20, a campaign targeted at US Attorney Channing Phillips to have the charges dropped. Our intention is to generate as much visibility around the case as possible, and to apply pressure on those with the power to end this political persecution!

To that end, we’ve planned several reproducible actions that can be organized in similar regions with a high density of supporters who want to get active in the case. We hope that as many defense committees and regional support crews as possible recreate this platform for their own cities, and modify them as necessary. Drop the charges against Inauguration Day protestors! This kettle will not settle

Thursday, July 20th – Coordinated Day of Beautification Actions: To kick-start the Week of Solidarity, we’re asking that as many organizations, affinity-groups and individual comrades as possible plan and coordinate a beautification action that calls attention to the J20 mass arrest, the political nature of the charges, and the #DropJ20 campaign. These can include wheat–pastings, banner-drops, projections, etc. While we hope that actions like these take place throughout the entire week of solidarity, by coordinating these autonomous actions to take place on the same day their effectiveness and visibility can be maximized. You can find a collection of flyers here.

Thursday, July 20th – Anarchists on the Silver Screen @ Firestorm Books & Coffee (610 Haywood Rd • Asheville, NC 28806): A movie marathon to kick off the week of solidarity with J20 defendants. We will be showing two short films and a fun full length movie – featuring the latest Trouble episode, the debut of Channel (A) – Episode 2, & What To Do In Case of Fire. It’ll be a time folx! Bring donations for defendants, your friends, and cozy pillows for an evening of riotous laughter and cinematographic subversion.

Friday, July 21nd – Letter-Writing/Call-In Party @ Northgate Park (300 West Club Blvd • Durham, NC 27704): To increase the public pressure to drop the charges, we’re organizing a letter-writing/call-in party at 6:00PM. We’ll be enjoying BBQ and writing letters to US Attorney Channing Phillips to demand that they drop the charges. We’ll also be calling in to Rochelle Howard at the Office of Police Complaints, which has funded an investigation into the misconduct and brutality of the MPD on Inauguration Day. The investigation is being delayed until October, 2017, one month before the earliest trial dates are set. This investigation has to happen now! With enough political pressure, we can make both of these goals happen!

Saturday, July 22nd – Benefit Show @ the Back House (Riverview & Clifton • Asheville, NC): A benefit house show is being held at the Back House at 6PM as a fundraiser for the NC J20 Defense Fund! Mutual Jerk, Poor Excuse and Clyde Conwell will be performing, along with a secret special guest! The night will also be a bakesale and BBQ, and folks are asked to bring $5-10 for donations!

Sunday, July 23rd – J20 Defendants Support Group: One large part of this process is dealing with the trauma, namely large amounts of stress and anxiety that comes with it. We want to support each other through this and find ways to make this journey more tolerable for all of us. To increase our resiliency against repression, we’re organizing a defendant-led support group in the park (no snitch-phones allowed!) to share our experiences with each other in a judgement-free space.

Monday, July 24th – A Feast for Friends: Despite the trauma of state repression, this case has produced a plenum of beautiful relationships and affinities; supporters have sprung out of the woodwork that have dedicated their time, lives, and emotional labor to help complete strangers endure these trying times. It’s time to return the favor! Defendants are organizing a free dinner for their defense committees, legal aids and community supporters! If defendants and supporters alike are going to make it through to the end of this process, we need to come together for more than just status hearings and legal calls, we need levity, friendship, and a good bit of fun to replenish our spirits!

Tuesday, July 25th – Benefit Show @ the Nightlight (405 1/2 W Rosemary St • Chapel Hill, NC 27516): The Nightlight presents Institute, a punk show benefit for J20 defendants! Headlining the night will be Drugcharge and Decoy, and doors open at 9PM! All money raised at this event will also be going to the NC J20 Defense Fund, and they’re also asking that folks bring $5-10 to donate as cover for the show.

Wednesday, July 26th – Resisting State Repression, A Press Conference @ Durham Central Park (501 Foster St • Durham, NC 27701): To round out the week, we’ll be holding a press conference as the Durham Central Park at 12:00PM, open to the press and to the entire community of Durham. The conference will present background and updates of the case and its development up to this point, an overview of how this case fits into a larger national tapestry of state repression and violence, and the unveiling of our #DropJ20 campaign.

#dropj20 #anarchism #anarchists #disruptj20 #j20 #anarchy #resist #resistance #rebellion #solidarity #kettle #ftp #acab

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kaiyves-backup · 6 months ago

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Conwell Coffee Hall on Hanover Street

#out and about #new york state of mind #art deco

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imagineelrios · 8 years ago

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Add becomes an oracle, describing Elgang's doomsday future + Elrios's ultimate destruction (by nature ofc lol) and fall of humanity in Elrios (bonus Ain is scared that all of Add's premonition is detailed and accurate as heck)

“You’re all going to fail your mission, by the way.” Add casually muses, taking a sip from from his cat mug.

Elsword looks up at him, his crimson eyes reflecting the Diabolic Esper’s face. He notes the sudden increase in the orange-y hue. They certainly weren’t that visible from the start. Now Add feels like he’s becoming a little closer to his sister.

“How do you know?” the boy’s tone seems a little more heavy. Not that Add was surprised on it. “You’re not some oracle. You yourself said that.”

“I’m not, but,” a gloved hand pushes his bangs up from his hair. “You lost Raven. You killed your sister. And now the demonic duo have refused your offer to join them, attacking in retaliation.” His dynamos teasingly ram themselves at Elsword’s leg, causing a pained yelp.

“You’re even severely injured. That stab the bondage butler dealt didn’t heal, did it? It’s been chronically acting up in spite of the care Chung and Aisha had done for you. You’ve been running slower, I can tell.” The Infinity Sword brandishes his Conwell in agitation. Has Add tilted him? Sounds entertaining. He’ll add more salt to his wounds.

Smiling, the Diabolic Esper chuckles. “I dunno about you, but for me, my visions are coming true. Who knows?” He steps off the barrel, stretching. “Maybe Chung will be impaled by this ‘spear of agony’. That the magician will follow the rules of ‘a life for a life’. And-” The brandished sword is thrown into Add’s direction, narrowly missing his head. It instead leaves a tiny cut on his cheek.

“Fuck off,” Elsword sighs. “I’ll succeed. Even if they’re dead. It’ll turn out right.”

“Is that what you’ll believe?” Add gives a frown, his blackened eyes staring at Elsword curiously.

“That’s what will happen.” Hmm. He gulps down the coffee, licking down any sugar left behind from his drink. It seems the boy is motivated even when things aren’t going in his ways. He’s simply that dedicated, huh? He has to applaud at his tenacity. Well, it’s not like Add cares. If the whole universe is destroyed, he’ll just flee to a new one. And if that one is destroyed too, he’ll flee again. Again, and again, and again. Until he finds the right one.

“I dunno about you, but for me, my visions are coming true. Who knows?” He steps off from the barrel, stretching. “Maybe Chung will be impaled by this ‘spear of agony’. That the magician will follow the rules of ‘a life for a life’. And-”

Add stops as Ain launches himself, his glass sword barely managing to leave Add with only a small injury. Disappointingly, it simply scratched him, as if Add accidentally ran his cheeks over a rose thorn. “Ho… The ‘angel’ decided to join in.” Add sneers, giggling at Ain.

“Ain, please, you don’t have to do that.” Elsword shakes his head at him with a sigh. “Just because I missed doesn’t mean you should try and fix that.”

“He’s a dangerous individual, Elsword. All this… nonsense is just tricking us! To make us feel as if everything is doomed!” The Arme Thaumaturgy hisses. Still, he’s uneasy. He knows very well that what Add has been saying up till now has occurred with high accuracy. “Fuck off, Ain.” Elsword swears. “Oh, don’t take that personally though. And…” he turns over to Add. “I’ll succeed. Even if they’re dead. It’ll turn out right.” “Is that Is that what you’ll believe?”“That’s what will happen.”“And don’t try and toy with us with your prophecies.” Ain adds on. Add gives a mockingly polite grin at Ain, before drinking down his coffee. Ain grits his teeth, hands twitching at his attitude. “How dare you act-!”

“Ain.” Elsword hugs the Arme Thaumaturgy from behind. “Stop it. He’s not trying to hurt us anyway.” Is he really? Or is he indirectly causing Elsword discourse in his mind? Crushing the glass sword, he puts his head down.

“Elsword…”

“It’s alright.”

But… is it really?

#add #elboy #ain #angst #mod lune #anon #ask #elsword #elsword imagines

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mfmagazine · 6 years ago

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Tiffany Hines

Article by Diane Walsh

Photo by Annette Navarro

If you haven’t noticed Tiffany Hines on either the LA or Toronto entertainment scene then you haven’t been paying, enough, proper attention. She’s hopping amazing! Appearing all over the place, on multiple popular TV series not only as an actress but also as a singer - AND - she can dance. Tiffany struck me as someone with a real nice, down-home attitude. A person, modest about her talents and accomplishments, yet worthy of being a role model for young women. On top of that…nobody can help but notice she’s gorgeous to boot! The ‘total package’ as we [*WINK*] occasionally, annoyingly-crass-journalists, explete, from time to time when we see a gem. And a diamond in the rough Tiffany sure is. You star in the new CW TV-series, Nikita, as Jaden’ What does she mean to you? Tell us Jaden’. Most people will see her as the mean girl at first, but to me she is so much more. What makes her interesting is that in the beginning she comes across as a tough girl, but as we get to know her we discover she also has this vulnerable side. The tough exterior is all she has ever known. She relies on that to protect the real Jaden underneath that has never felt love and acceptance and wants it more than anything in the world. When I first read the pilot it really intrigued me how hard she is at first, but how fiercely she tries to cover up her feelings for Thom. I was like, oh... I see you Jaden... I get you. And what we can expect from the series?

As the show progresses, we will get to learn more about each of the characters. Who they were before they came to Division and how they ended up there. And of course we will learn more about Michael and Nikita's past. You can definitely expect more action, and you can expect more writing that continues to keep you guessing. I constantly find myself reading scripts with a bag of popcorn, flipping feverishly through them and going "What?! That did NOT just happen!" [Laughs] I hope you all enjoy watching it as much as I enjoy making it for you! It’s sweet that Nikita is being filmed in Toronto. How do you like TO by the way?

At first I was a little apprehensive about living in Toronto. I am a country mouse through and through! So being surrounded by all this concrete and all these buildings in downtown Toronto, instead of trees and yards was a bit of a change for me. But now I absolutely love it. I love exploring the city. And I'm proud to say I am becoming very streetcar and subway savvy. This from the girl that takes a cab in NYC to go three blocks because I'm scared I will get lost! [Laughs] But yeah, Toronto is great. I love filming here. The people are amazing, there's amazing Canadian destinations I can see on my days off...and the Poutine, Tim Hortons Coffee, and Ketchup chips are addicting! Are your Canadian fans any different from your American ones?

I think all my fans are great! It's flattering to know I have them in both countries as well as the rest of the world. I am just really grateful for all their love and support, because without them I would never be able to keep doing what I love. I want to share as much of this journey with them as I can. How did you enjoy playing in the romantic-comedy movie, Perfect Combination, alongside Christian Keyes, Angell Conwell, Kareem Grimes, and Ayo Sorrells?

We had such a blast shooting that movie! From day one we felt like the best of friends. We had so much fun on set, but everyone was so professional and determined to make a great film. As shooting continued, we actually became a family. In this business you are constantly on the go and often it's hard to keep those relationships going after you wrap the film. I feel so blessed that now so many of them are my closest friends. Even the Executives of Tri-Destined Studios who produced the film are like family and keep in touch! I feel so fortunate to have had that experience, and I truly love each of them dearly. Any favorite brand promotions that you’ve done or would like to do in the future? Old Navy again perhaps?

I really enjoyed my time with Old Navy. I am also a huge video game playing geek so I think it would be cool to do promotions for a video game company like Activision or EA Sports. And since I love beauty products and makeup, I think it would be interesting to promote a beauty or makeup line. But the one rule I live by is, that I really have to be passionate about something, and truly BELIEVE in a product if I am going to promote it. Grey's Anatomy, Heroes, Criminal Minds, Miss Guided – this is getting to be quite a list! You must be very proud. And also – of your role as – Allysha, in the film, The Winged Man, which, I understand, was honored as the Official Selection in the Rhode Island Film Festival, LA Short Film Festival, and Big Bear Film Festival.

I am so thankful to have been in projects that have allowed me to work with and learn from so many brilliant and talented actors and actresses so early in my career. Working with people like Chandra Wilson, Tamara Taylor, Emily Deschanel, Jesse Williams, David Boreanaz, and so many more, has really been inspiring for me and has taught me so much about my craft. Playing Allysha in the Winged Man from Esperanza Productions was such a beautiful experience as well. It was such an honor to be able to participate in a project penned by Oscar nominee Jose Rivera. And I don't think there was one person, whether it was cast, crew, or producers who were not touched after participating in that film. We were all so thrilled when something we had worked so passionately on, was recognized by such respected film festivals. You as Kelly Hawkins, lesbian student, on ABC Family's Lincoln Heights is a stand-out. Why do you think that is? Along with, you, as Layla, on CSI?

Well my role as Kelly on Lincoln Heights is probably one of the most controversial roles I have ever played. In the episode I kiss one of the lead actresses. I think a lot of people were shocked at that episode. But I was happy that ABC Family pushed the envelope like that. I think that television and film is a representation of all us...our culture...who we are, and all of the experiences that make us human. I was proud to be part of something where I was representing the voice of a group of people who in the past have been seriously underrepresented and misrepresented in T.V. and film. Playing the role of Layla in CSI: Crime Scene Investigation was also very different from my other roles, because I got to sing. I played this girl who was about to win an amateur national televised singing contest, and the CSI team has to find out who murdered her. It was exhilarating and fun to incorporate both of my loves, singing and acting, into my work at the same time. A lot of people don't know that I sing and were surprised I actually did all my own singing in that episode. Of course, you’ve got to tell us about your character ‘Michelle Welton’ on Bones and ‘Lacey’ on Lie to Me. What’s that like?

One of the things I love the most about being an actress is the vast different people you get to be. I am basically getting paid to do now, what I did as a kid for free... play make believe! Michelle is a young and sweet impressionable 16 year old. She is the adopted daughter of Detective Camille Saroyan (played by Tamara Taylor) on Bones. I love playing Michelle because on the one hand she is so sweet and has a good heart, but on the other hand she is a rebellious teenager who is trying to discover who she is as a woman. My role of Lacey on Lie to Me is completely different from my role of Michelle on Bones. She is a hardened 25 year old woman who has had a rough life and makes her living as a porn star. I love putting on various different hats like that and not limiting myself to just being a character that is the mirror image of myself. Part of the reason I love acting is because I get to be so many different people from one day to the next. In any other field, I would probably be considered certifiably insane and locked in a padded room. But as an actress I get praised for it. I love working with the cast of Bones! It is one of the most fun sets I've ever had the privilege of filming on. Bones is a popular series. Why do you think it is?

I think there are a lot of reasons why it is popular. First off, the writing is amazing, and secondly, the two leads David and Emily are great at bringing those beloved characters to life. Lastly, I think that everyone on the show, from the cast, to the crew, to the producers really have amazing chemistry together and work so hard from week to week to continue bringing a quality story to life. I feel so lucky that their family opened up their arms to me. That amazing chemistry that spans across the entire family is infectious and you can see it in every scene and in every show of theirs that you watch. What’s your favorite TV series? Apart from the ones you’re in, of course!

True Blood! I AM SO ADDICTED! I think Alan Ball is a Genius! I am a huge fan of the books by Charlaine Harris. I read often, and it is very rare that I love a television or film adaptation as much as I love a book that I've read. But Alan is brilliant because he keeps even the fans of the books on the edge of our seats. I never know what's going to happen, and I am completely hooked. Also since I love music, of course my other favorite show is Glee! I can't get enough and my iPod is filled with all their music. Is Glee up your street somewhere in the future, do you think?

I definitely wouldn't turn down the offer if it came. I think anyone that did would be crazy! I don't know one actor/singer that wouldn't want to be on Glee...myself included. In your past, you’ve won several dance titles. What are your dance fortes and what’s your favorite sound to dance to?

I love every form of dance. I started out clogging, and some of my favorite types of dance I used to compete in are ballet, tap, jazz, lyrical/contemporary, musical theatre and hip hop, but I also dabble in salsa and meringue. Next I would love to learn the various ballroom styles and African dance. My favorite music to dance to is any kind of music that stirs up a strong emotion inside me. The emotion starts within in me, and then comes out in my dancing. To me, dance is emotion put into motion. Who are your role models?

I find inspiration from anywhere and anyone. Some of the people who are my role models are celebrities, some of them are the women in my family, some are close friends of mine, and some are people I have never met, but I have heard their stories and it touches me. Some of my favorites are My Grandmother, Angelina Jolie, Michelle Obama, and L.Y. Marlow of the Saving Promise organization that is fighting to end domestic violence. There are so many others, but if I named them all here now, this interview would take up hundreds of pages! [Laughs] Out of the big-name people you’ve worked with - Katherine Heigl, Ellen Pompeo, Loretta Divine, Hayden Panatierre, Kim Kardashian, Thomas Dekker, Tracy Thoms, and Jesse Williams – what stands out for you?

Every single big-name person I've ever worked with, cared less about being a big name than they did about bringing 150 percent to the table and doing a great job. At the end of the day, it is all about the work... doing not just good work, but great work. One of the most eye opening lessons I learned while working with so many brilliant actors, is that I don't have to be the best, but I do have to be better than I was the day before. If you focus on that, the sky's the limit. Great lesson! You play violin and piano, and you sing and you dance. Can you talk a bit about your musical background and your goals in this area?

When I was in the fourth grade I wanted to play the piano, but my mother said it was too big to fit in her house, so we went with the violin instead! [Laughs] I was kind of a natural at it, and from a very young age I started writing my own songs and even wrote a symphony that my elementary school orchestra performed. I also was one of the youngest kids admitted into the youth orchestra program at Florida State University when I was 10. Music, singing, and dancing has always been a huge part of who I am as long as I can remember. One of the first movies I ever saw was Singing in the Rain. I was pretty young when I saw it, maybe 5 or 6. But I will never forget when Debbie Reynolds did her Good Morning dance. I used to try to sing and dance like her and I would get so frustrated that I was too little to tip the couch over like she did during the routine! [Laughs]... As far as singing goes, when I got older, I also sang and performed in a couple bands in my hometown of Cincinnati and even recorded a few songs on my own. I really miss that side of the performing arts and eventually I would like to make my way back to it. Previously, you’d co-written some original songs and (I’m told) you still dabble in song-writing. Did you want to say a wee bit about your also being a vocalist, and your future aspirations?

I really miss my music, but I know it is only a matter of time before I get back to it. I still keep a notebook under my bed and write songs all the time. I really believe that everything happens for a reason. I feel so blessed and grateful to be working as an actress right now, so for now I am focusing on that. But when the time is right for my music, I know that it will happen too. For now, I am just going to continue writing and when I can, I will go back to the studio and start recording again. You were born in Cincinnati but grew up in Tallahassee, Florida. What do you love most of Cincinnati and Tallahassee? Is there anything you hate, like people asking you about WKRP in Cincinnati and if you’ve ever met Loni Anderson! Or if you like alligators!

My favorite things about Cincinnati are Skyline, Graeters Ice Cream, Kings Island, and WEBN Fireworks. Tallahassee was one of my favorite places to live because it had that southern hospitality feel to it. It's the kind of place where one second you could be talking to someone in line at the grocery store, and the next second they are inviting you over for homemade lemonade on their porch. I feel so blessed to have grown up in such amazing cities like Cincinnati and Tallahassee. I think it's funny when people ask me about WKRP in Cincinnati. I mean, the show was airing before I was even born, yet people ask me all the time if it is a real radio station. [Laughs] For the record, WKRP is a fictional radio station. But I think it's cool that a show that has been off the air for so long has been able to put Cincinnati on the map like that. As far as Loni Anderson goes, I haven't met her, but if I ever got the chance to, I would want to ask her if she likes Cincinnati and what she thinks about Cincinnati Skyline Chili. I am NOT a big fan of alligators... But that's probably because when my family was living in Tallahassee, one of them ended up in our backyard pool and scared the living hell out of me at a very young age. If I ever see one again in person that up close and personal I would probably crap my pants. Do you return to your birthplace in Ohio?

Yes. I still have a lot of close friends and family living in Cincinnati. I try to get back as often as I can. Especially for big holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving. After spending time in Ohio and Kentucky, and then Los Angeles when your career starting taking off – how did that feel? Any thoughts on the California-LA experience?

I absolutely love living in LA. I feel like I am in one of the biggest creative playgrounds in the world. There is so much to learn in a city like that, that embraces the arts. It was definitely scary for me to leave my hometown for LA. I had to give up everything I knew, and drive all the way across the country to this strange land where I didn't know anyone, on a whim and a prayer that things would work out. It is the hardest thing I have ever done, but I am really glad I did it, because now I absolutely love where my journey has led me. I have learned so much about life and my craft after living in California, and I can't wait to learn even more. Do you like Facebook? Do you tweet?

I am so grateful to all my fans and all the support they have shown me, so I try to Facebook and Tweet as much as possible. Without their support I wouldn't be able to do what I love, so I think it is only fair that I share that journey with them. I try to reach out to all my fans as much as possible via twitter and my Facebook Fan Page. Lastly, I got to ask…what do you like to do for fun?

For fun, I do anything and everything! Some of my favorite things to do for fun are making up recipes and cooking for my friends, playing video games, reading sci fi and mystery novels and of course, my new favorite pastime... reading comics.

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kpopfanfictrash · 8 years ago

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Guardian (XI)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jongdae / Baekhyun

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Torture (razor blade, physical abuse)

Word Count: 3,905

Summary: You keep seeing the same guy everywhere you go. In the coffee shop, on the streets, in your philosophy class. It’s getting to the point where you think he’s stalking you - only to realize that maybe there’s something much more mysterious at play here. (AU: Jongdae is your guardian angel)

“I don’t know what to say.” You start, then stop. “Half the time I feel like I’m in control but half the time I feel like I’m drowning. One second I want to save the world, the next I want to burn it.” Though Baekhyun’s eyes widen, he doesn’t look away. “Right here though. Right now.” You take a deep breath. “I feel human.”

He looks back, serious. “Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that you’re not.”

The man is beautiful. That’s the thought drifting across your mind as your vision swims before your eyes. The man is beautiful, with the face of an angel. Not your angel, though. Not Jongdae. This man has no love in his eyes. This man’s eyes are cold, steely orbs which look at you in hatred. Blue, staring unblinkingly as he twists your arm.

You scream, your breath choking off in a moan as he releases you. Head sagging once to loll against your chest. The man chuckles, fingers still grasping your arm. “This can stop anytime, love,” he whispers, bending low so his lips graze your ear.

Shuddering, you attempt to pull away. The attempt is futile though, your chair made of steel and stone – unrelenting in its hardness. You’re secured to this chair by your ankles. Metal links to ensure you can’t run. The air is heavy, though Director Conwell was right, you’ve gotten used to it. You imagine it’s similar to when people experience a new moon or planet for the first time. The alternate gravity is crippling, fading away the longer they stay until eventually they forget home entirely.

Whimpering softly, you shake your head. No. That’s not you. You will escape. You will see home again. No, no, no. When the man laughs, you realize you’ve spoken this last part aloud. It’s hard to remember what you’re saying no to anymore. You just know you won’t give these people what they want. Won’t give them the satisfaction of knowing you’re broken – because you’re not.

Despite everything you’ve endured, despite the days and weeks that have passed by, you’re still here. The man stares at you now, gaze shrewd. Calculating. He doesn’t waste his energy when it comes to torturing you. Hurting just enough so you remain conscious. Just enough so you don’t pass out because that would waste the remainder of his day. Every morning it’s the same: interrogation, torture. Every evening is spent in the medical wing, healed for the next day when it begins again.

Each night you return to your room. To Baekhyun.

Soft fingers find your face and you shy away, despite yourself. You hate showing weakness in these sessions but right now you’re just so tired. So tired of pretending to be invincible when you’re not. Your eyes drift shut, attempting to black out – when the sound of a harsh crack rings through the room. Pain blooms across your cheek and you gasp, realizing he’s slapped you.

It’s as though you’ve been doused in cold water and you jerk upright to stare at him. The man smiles sweetly. “Please look at me when I’m talking, love.”

A low hiss escapes your teeth.

He laughs. “Don’t be like that, darling. You know you’re making this unnecessarily hard on yourself.” The man lowers his hands to either side of you, resting them atop your metal armrests. “Just tell us what we want to know. It’s not necessary for you to be treated this way.”

One of his hands finds your face, cupping your chin with his palm.

“Mm,” he sighs. “It’s a shame to waste this loveliness. You need not be our prisoner, if you don’t want to be. If you helped, we wouldn’t have to hurt you. It pains me to hurt you.”

You almost laugh. Him, pained? Once more, you reach for your powers but are unable to grasp them. They slip through your fingers, like water through a stream. One thing that’s new is that over the course of the past week, you’ve begun to feel them. Your powers – dormant, suppressed – but present. Where before there were only shadow, now you feel anger.

You can’t use your powers, though. Not yet.

The change though, makes you wonder if perhaps Director Conwell is arrogant in her assumption that this drug will keep you dormant forever. Perhaps as your body grows accustomed to it, you learn to thrive. You hope this is the case because it’s all that’s keeping you going – this notion that one day, someday soon you’ll break free.

And then you’ll kill them all.

“What do you want to know?” you croak.

Surprised by your sudden acquiescence, the man cocks his head. He’s never told you his name. On the first morning you were brought here, he strapped you to this chair and set to work. There was no small talk or pleasantries. In your mind, you call him Kevin though. There was a boy in your gym class called Kevin whom you always hated. This Kevin has the same, calm way of staring at women.

Kevin regards you this way now, his gaze lingering across the mark on your cheek. “Tell me what you are,” he repeats.

You offer him a smile. “Your worst nightmare.”

Barely a second passes before another slap rings out, your head banging into the metal of your headrest.

Kevin quietly brings his face to yours. “You can’t last forever,” he chuckles, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek. “It’s only been forty-two days. Do you know how much longer we’re willing to wait?”

“I’d imagine longer,” you spit around the blood in your mouth. Fuck. You must have bitten your tongue.

“A very long time.” Kevin smiles, unnerved by the red dripping from your mouth onto your shirt. “You can joke if you want, love. It won’t help much in the end.”

When you get out of here, you’ll kill this man first. Slowly. Painfully. The thought makes you smile and you twist to look up at him. “Do you want to know the truth?” you ask.

His eyes narrow, evaluating. “Are you finally ready to play, little one?”

Slowly, you nod. Allowing your breath to exhale from your lungs. “First,” you whimper, forcing your voice to shake. “First you promise that if I tell you, you’ll treat me better.” You allow something like hope to enter your gaze. “You’ll take me away. Give me real food and a real bed.”

The man’s excitement grows, palpable in the air. He stares back at you, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Yes,” he breathes. “You’ll be fed, you’ll be warm and we won’t hurt you anymore. This doesn’t have to be so hard.”

“Okay.” You nod, almost to yourself. “I am,” you pause. “A vampire.”

The man stares at you for so long, you wonder if he heard. Then suddenly, furiously Kevin slices into your arm. Cutting your skin with the cold, sharp blade he holds by his side. Screaming, you arch against your restraints, falling back in your seat as blood trickles down your arm. The slice is shallow but painful, dark red sliding down your forearm. Siding past your fingertips to pool at your feet.

“Liar,” Kevin hisses. “Vampires cannot abide this sort of metal.” He furiously brandishes the blade. “Your skin would have hardened at first swipe.”

Now your eyes widen. You stare at the scarlet lining the tip of the blade, his words tumbling through your mind. Kevin speaks of vampires as though they’re real. As though you’re ridiculous for even pretending to be one. But then – you exhale. You’re half-angel, half-human. Why wouldn’t vampires be real?

Staring back, you struggle to see the humanity behind this man’s eyes. It occurs to you that maybe you’ve been looking at things the wrong way. Jongdae seemed to think no one is truly good or evil. More and more you find yourself agreeing with him - evil is in choices. Your Guardian’s words come back to you, the sound of his voice in your thoughts. You can choose to be bad, choose to be good – but whatever you choose has a rippling effect.

Staring at the man before you, you wonder if Kevin even realizes he’s evil. No person is the villain of their own story and you wonder if Kevin ever has trouble sleeping. What must it be like, to look a person in the eyes and not feel a shred of compassion. To not understand things can be different and that different isn’t wrong.

It’s moments like this where you gain confidence in yourself. It’s always been a concern, that you would do the right thing when the time comes. Still is, sometimes. Occasionally you feel your anger overtaking you, vibrant and red, making you think things which should shock you. Making you slave to blood and destruction and decay.

Counter to this is a voice. A voice stronger than the rest which tells you where that line is. Warning you away from the darkness which has consumed this man.

Kevin carefully examines the blood on the end of his blade. “Beautiful,” he breathes, before his eyes find yours. “Are you ready to tell me the truth?”

For a moment, you consider. The worst that could happen if you tell is they find out what you are. At least then you might get a moment of peace. But no. Your resolve hardens. These monsters deserve nothing but no from you.

“No.”

“Hm.” Kevin doesn’t seem too concerned as he stands. “I see the usual methods of interrogation aren’t working. Perhaps if we try something a bit more… creative?”

You’re barely paying attention now. Usually this is around the point where you fade away. Entering a place within yourself where the pain is dulled. From here, they can do whatever they want with you. From here, you can close your eyes and think of England. A phrase you find yourself drifting to often these days. The actual source is from a twentieth century woman’s journal where she speaks of nights forced into intercourse with her arranged husband. In these times, she writes, she closes her eyes and thinks of England.

This thought makes your throat tighten. At least nothing of the sort has happened to you. At least, not yet. You have zero trust these humans are not capable of worse.

Kevin smiles at you. “I’ve asked Director Conwell for a special demonstration.”

Vaguely, you re-focus on him. “What kind of demonstration?” you say, already fading away.

Instead of responding, Kevin looks at the door. “Drew,” he calls. “Won’t you bring in our friend?”

Drew. The name prompts a flicker of recognition, but no – they wouldn’t. And yet when the door to your room is opened – kicked in, as though someone is struggling on the other side – you recognize the burly soldier from the day of you kidnapping. Drew doesn’t so much walk in as limp, his entire body tense, straining with the difficulty of restraining Byun Baekhyun.

Baekhyun is wild, uncontrolled. His hair is messy while he jerks to the side. His muscles taut, but even you can see he’s lost weight in the past couple of weeks. He’s not as strong as before, a fact which Drew seems to know. Still, it’s difficult to control him. Even weakened and without his gadgets, Baekhyun is a force to be reckoned with.

He doesn’t throw his weight idly, pinpointing precise spots on the body. You watch the larger man wince when Baekhyun’s elbow finds a particularly painful pressure point below his sternum. Kevin also sees this, face darkening at Drew’s ineffectiveness. Smooth as water, he stands. Walking almost lazily to press the tip of his blade against your throat.

Your eyes widen - you hadn’t been expecting that.

Baekhyun hadn’t either. You watch him freeze.

“Ah.” Kevin’s eyes spark. “So this is how to control you? Through threats to the Nephilim?”

Though Baekhyun doesn’t move, his gaze hardens. “Don’t hurt her,” he manages.

“Interesting.” The room falls quiet as Kevin takes a step closer, bending to look Baekhyun in the eyes. “Do you know why we put you two together?” he asks, voice silken.

When neither of you respond, Kevin smiles. “Sit him down,” he instructs Drew. “We put you together,” Kevin continues, as though there’s been no interruption. “So we could watch your relationship. It appears the two of you have grown close in the past weeks.”

Drew shoves Baekhyun forward, pushing him until he drops into the second chair. You expect Baekhyun to fight, to resist but he’s surprisingly docile lowering himself to his restraints. Even his head is knocked against his chair, he doesn’t blink, doesn’t react even when chains are tightened around his hands and feet.

Your eyes narrow and you frown. “Why does he get twice the restraints I do?” you sigh, trying to bring Kevin’s attention back to you. “I never thought you’d be sexist in torture. Seems an odd concept to be choosy over.”

Kevin chuckles. “You’re funny, love but this isn’t sexism. He has more restraints because they’re necessary” He smiles. “Not for you. You can go,” he nods to Drew,. Once the three of you are alone, Kevin smiles. “What do you say we play a game?” Slowly, he twirls the razor in his palm.

Baekhyun’s eyes follow the motion. “What kind of game?” He’s dressed today in black trousers and a white shirt. The same outfit left for him every morning since your arrival. Clothing immaculate in the morning but marred by sweat and blood come nightfall. Flecks of which dot his collar, sketching holes in his fabric.

Baekhyun usually has it worse than you do. Night after night he returns, half-conscious and struggling to stay awake. Each night you go through hell, awash with bruises as you struggle to lie down in a position which allows for sleep. You and Baekhyun talk most nights, unable to fall asleep for more than a few hours at a time.

Always Baekhyun is the first to speak, knowing you don’t like to talk for at least an hour after he enters the room. You need time to acclimatize to his presence. Need time to see his face and know he’s not one of them. Because somehow, Baekhyun has become the one person in this place you know won’t hurt you.

It’s funny to think of that. At one point in time, he was the most dangerous person in your life. He wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you and now – well, now things are different.

Baekhyun stares back, lips tight and you watch him slowly, subtly shake his head. No.

Kevin watches this, flipping his razor open. “A game of honestly.” Suddenly he place the blade at Baekhyun’s cheek, other hand drifting softly over the Altor’s features. “Y/N.” His lips curve upwards. “Are you ready to play?”

Horror flips your stomach. It’s painfully obvious where this is going and yet somehow, you’re unable to look away.

“Very good.” Kevin stares at Baekhyun, expression hardening. “Now, what is a Nephilim?”

You don’t answer, struggling to think of answers. How to avoid answering. How to avoid hurting him. Nausea rises at the realization there is no way out of this. There are no more tricks up your sleeves.

Kevin seems realizes this as well, since he smiles. “I’m not playing,” he sighs, pressing his blade to Baekhyun’s cheek. “I’ll give until the count of five. One. Two. Three.” He arches a brow. “Five.”

Swiftly, the razor cuts. There’s a moment when you think he didn’t do it, think it was just for show. Then Baekhyun’s face twitches, a flash of pain visible for just a second. A strip of red appears on his cheek.

Kevin stares. “Smile,” he demands, forcing the corners of Baekhyun’s mouth upwards until blood flows from the wound.

Someone screams and you realize it’s you. You, who’s thrown to the edge of your seat, you straining against your cuffs. Fingertips gripping so hard they’re white, the blood from your arm streaming to mix with Baekhyun’s on the floor.

“Stop,” you breathe, eyes wild. “Just stop it.”

“Not unless you tell me what you are.” Kevin’s movements are lazy, touching the razor to his other cheek. “It’s a pity to ruin such a face but I will Y/N, if you don’t tell me. I’ll carve until his face is nothing. He won’t leave the house without women screaming and children crying. Is that what you want?” Kevin tuts. “Is it?”

Baekhyun shakes his head and you see that the cut is deeper than you’d imagined. Based on his initial wince, you thought the slice was superficial – enough to draw blood but hurt. You’re wrong. As Baekhyun shakes his head no, the blood starts to flow.

A smile stretches your torturer’s lips. “Yes,” he says, his voice quiet. “With Baekhyun we’re a tiny bit messier. After all, he’s not Nephilim. Only you are. He’s expendable.”

Your eyes widen with confusion. Baekhyun also seems surprised. “When… did you find out?” your words trail off as the razor dips closer.

“I’m the one asking the questions.” Kevin tilts his head. “Now tell me what you are.”

“I’m –"

“Don’t,” Baekhyun gasps. Unable to stop his scream as Kevin abruptly slices across his other cheek.

Kevin follows this with a backhanded slap. “Silence.”

Baekhyun is too weak to resist, his body thrown sideways until his weight sags against the cuffs. He hasn’t passed out. His eyelids still flutter, feet struggling to regain his footing and stay upright.

It’s almost crueler that way. If Baekhyun had passed out, at least Kevin would stop. At least Baekhyun would be safe for another day. But then you realize the full significance of Kevin’s revelation. Ice floods your veins at the realization that these people have been torturing Baekhyun even though they know he’s human. They act as though he’s the enemy, when all he’s done is exist in the same place as you.

“Answer me.” Kevin grabs the top of Baekhyun’s head, yanking him upwards. Baekhyun’s head hits the chair as his throat is exposed. “Answer me,” Kevin demands, looking you in the eyes, “or he dies.”

His knife hovers at Baekhyun’s throat.

All around you, the air seems to still. Somehow you’ve known this would happen since the moment Baekhyun came through that door. You knew this, and you knew that you could not let Baekhyun die. This is your line in the sand, the voice in your head.

Now that you know, you hang your head. “Stop,” you say, your voice loud in the stillness.

“Why should I?” Kevin asks. His hand pauses, waiting to hear what you have to say.

“Because,” you whisper, staring at the blade inches away from Byun Baekhyun’s throat. “I am Nephilim. Half-angel, half-human.”

Baekhyun’s eyes flicker in horror. “No,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “No.”

At first Kevin seems skeptical, unwilling to believe anything you say. But then Baekhyun’s reaction seems to solidify things and slowly, he laughs.

“So it’s true,” he whispers, knife dropping. Kevin spins to his left, gaze sweeping the room. “Director,” he calls. “Did you hear? Your theories are correct.”

Your breath catches at the voice over the loudspeaker. “Yes,” she muses, calm as ever. “It would appear so.” Director Conwell pauses and it’s a long moment before the speakers crackle to life again. “I think that’s enough for one day, Lieutenant. Return the prisoners to their cell.”

Kevin nods, moving towards the door. When he instructs the two guards to take you away, your gaze moves to Baekhyun’s.

“Why,” he whispers, his horror plain. “Why would you do that?”

Staring back, you’re suddenly at a loss for words. “You’d have done the same,” you say, lifting your shoulder in a shrug. “You have done the same.”

“Yes,” Baekhyun breathes, staring blankly. “Yes, I would. I have. I didn’t think you felt that way, though.”

A frown creases your brow, but before you can speak your guards enter the room. Kevin leaves, disappearing down the hallway to confer with Director Conwell. You’re unceremoniously dragged towards your cell and as you walk, you think about what you’ve done.

It seems harmless, to admit you’re part angel. It’s just words and yet, you’ve just unraveled thousands of years of secrecy. Thousands of years where Nephilim, Angels and Altorium have hidden in the shadows. Distancing themselves from political power to remain impartial – an entire existence you just doomed.

Your stomach sinks with each step, fear rushing through your veins as you consider the repercussions of your actions. Baekhyun doesn’t even glance in your direction, silent beside you.

The two of you are pushed into your cell. It’s the first time you can remember that neither of you have gone to the medical wing. Maybe it’s just carelessness, forgotten in the wake of your information. Or maybe it’s something more sinister. Maybe these people no longer care whether you live or die since they have their information.

Standing in your room, you stare blankly at the wall in front of you. It’s hard to breathe. Your lungs expanding and contracting but the movement somehow dulled. It’s as though everything is happening to someone else. You don’t know who you are. Don’t know how you feel. When did you become like this? the kind of person who protects her enemy over her own kind.

When you turn, you find him looking back at you. Collapsed on his bed, sprawled against the sheets. He stares upwards, eyes as dark as the stones behind him. Blood trickles down each cheek, the color reminding you of his hair from the first time you met. You remember the first time he stepped from the shadow – so arrogant, so wild.

Slowly, Baekhyun pushes himself to sit. Each motion is a struggle and you wince at the sudden visibility of his bruises. Baekhyun’s shirt falls open at his collar, displaying a brilliant mess of purples and blues.

“Baekhyun.” As you continue to look, you feel your eyes start to water. “Why are they doing this to us?”

To your embarrassment, a tear slips down your cheek.

Baekhyun is up before you can hide it, thumb hovering over your skin as he brushes it away. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, head bent in silence. “You should have let them kill me. I’m expendable, I’m the one who doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t you dare,” you demand, forcing his gaze back to yours. “You are not expendable, Byun Baekhyun – and if you say that one more time, I’ll kill you myself.”

A weak laugh follows, before quickly disappearing. “Did you mean it, though?” Baekhyun asks.

“Did I mean what?”

His words confuse you and you realize that although Baekhyun stepped forward, he never stepped back. His face is close, the blood on his cheeks slowed to a dull trickle. Scarlet tears on pale skin, which you fight the urge to wipe away.

“You told them what you are.” Though his voice is dazed, his eyes are clear. “You told them what you are, rather than let me die.”

“I told you weeks ago,” you say, unsure what he’s getting at. “I told you I don’t want you to die.”

“Yes.” For the first time since you’ve met him, it crosses your mind that Baekhyun seems afraid. “But there’s a difference,” he says quietly. Searching your gaze. “Between not wanting someone to die and protecting them from death.”

At his words, something flutters to life in your stomach. It’s too hard to look at him and so you look away, noticing his hands are trembling. Slowly, one of them raises to cup your chin. Bringing your face back to his. “Y/N,” Baekhyun says, voice unsteady. “I –"

The lights go out.

[Master Post]

Author’s Note: Thank you for your excitement over the past couple of days, I love you all 💕

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