#hmmm unsure but i needed to post SOMETHING it has been a month

[kingofthecotas]

inlooking | ao3

outsider pov aka pecco learns to call ahead | 1.6k

——

“Vale?” Pecco calls as he opens the front door and steps into the house.

It’s more a courtesy than anything; Valentino had said they were always welcome, whether that was the ranch, his motorhome, or his private residence in Tavullia. They have the code for the gate and keys to the front door, but they don’t often abuse the privilege. Even now, all Pecco wants is the hoodie he thinks he left here last time Valentino invited them for drinks.

Hearing movement in the kitchen, he steps down the hallway. “Vale, I just—”

Horrified eyes meet his. Pecco freezes.

“Oh,” Marc Márquez says, then, “Hi,” like he isn’t the last person Pecco expected to see here, like he isn’t holding Valentino’s mug, like he isn’t wearing a VR46 shirt over the kind of tracksuit bottoms you would only pull on if you planned on staying in the house all day.

“Hi,” Pecco manages, punched out of him. His teammate—Marc—in Valentino’s kitchen, drinking his coffee—

“Ah, Pecco.” He almost jumps when Valentino squeezes his shoulders on his way past. “A nice surprise.”

Across the kitchen island, Marc’s dumbstruck gaze hardens into such cold fury that Pecco flinches, turns to Valentino for help.

“I left a jumper here,” he manages, hoping Valentino can sense what the fuck and get me the fuck out of here. “The—the last time.”

“Ah, yes, there are a few—”

Marc places his mug down; careful, but the china rings loud against the marble. His hands are shaking, Pecco notes, and he wonders briefly, wildly, if he’s stumbled into a hostage situation. But this is—Marc, angry, withdraws so that people don’t see, don’t pull it out of him like entrails; Pecco has been with him in enough meetings, enough stewards’ rooms, to recognise that.

“Marc—” Valentino says, honing in on him, all of a sudden the only one in the room, and Marc is slipping around the side of the kitchen, out of the door down the hall. “Marc, wait.” He shoots Pecco an apologetic glance and follows.

“Did you—?” Marc fires, hot and furious, then something else Pecco can’t make out.

A hiss, sucked through teeth. “You always think there is something—”

“Can you fucking blame me?” And the front door slams. An engine starts.

When Valentino comes back into the kitchen, he looks harried. He looks sad.

“I…” Pecco starts, suddenly drowning in the sense that he’s transgressed, somehow. Crossed an invisible line. “I’m really sorry.”

Valentino waves a hand. “No. No, not your fault. Just—we spoke about something, last night, and—bad timing.” He sighs. “Coffee?”

“Yes. Please.”

Valentino carefully pushes Marc’s abandoned mug to the side, saying, “Sometimes he comes back for it, drinks it cold.” Pecco can only stare, horrified. Fascinated. Habits built over more than one morning spent together. He opens his mouth to ask, but Valentino starts grinding the beans, so he just slides onto one of the stools and waits instead. Holds himself still. Tries not to intrude any further.

It’s been a long time since Pecco has been able to see Valentino as anything other than human—larger than life, yes, commanding, always with a smile or a knowing word, but worldly, corporeal. Valentino had seemed to him, when he was a teenager, before he was a mentor and a manager and a friend, to be an unattainable god. This Vale, methodically battling a coffee machine that wouldn’t look out of place inside NASA, seems for the first time like he isn’t only indulging the whims of gravity, but truly feeling the weight of it.

Pecco can’t decide if that’s good. It might be.

He accepts his usual mug, wraps his fingers around it, lets the heat sink into his palms until it’s almost unbearable. This is not quick conversations as their paths cross in the garage, not something polite and cordial in front of television cameras: it’s infinitely better and earth-shatteringly worse.

“So,” he begins, and Christ, the look Valentino shoots him is genuinely apprehensive. “Did—has he gone?”

“Ah…” Valentino shrugs, one-shouldered. “Usually he goes to ride.”

“Usually,” Pecco repeats. Present tense. Ongoing.

“We are trying—it is not good, if we talk while we are angry. So we try to calm down first.”

“Right.” Pecco doesn’t know, can’t comprehend how much hurting and trying it took them to get here. The fact they’re trying at all is fucking seismic. “And he is angry because I am here?”

A sigh. “I—last night I said it would be good—the next time we are all at the ranch, it would be nice for him to be there. So you are used to having him around. And he said he is not ready yet, but then you have arrived today. You can see…”

“Yeah. Shit. Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Another sigh, diaphragm-deep, and Valentino looks—old. Tired. Eyes tight, mouth pulled taut. “It is actually—very easy to say I love you. The trust—that is the most difficult. I cannot blame him.”

Pecco glances down, taking a sip of his coffee so he doesn’t have to answer that. He doesn’t want to know this, doesn’t feel like he should.

“Sorry,” Valentino adds. “You probably have plans today, yes?”

“Ah, no. Free day.” A day of errands, really, and his hoodie was just one in a long list, but he doesn’t want to leave Valentino teetering by himself, doesn’t want to leave if Marc is tearing around the track alone—if he hasn’t just left. “The trust—it will come. You are both trying.”

“You do not have to stay.”

“I am not finished my coffee,” Pecco says, only half a joke.

“Okay, okay, I am not saying you have to go.” That, at least, makes Valentino crack a smile. “I have—some things. I can be busy. The team have given me homework before Fuji, can you believe this?”

“Homework?”

“So many onboard laps to watch. Just—do not feel you have to keep me company. He will come back.” It’s said with such certainty. Faith.

“I will finish my coffee,” Pecco repeats, “and I still have to find my hoodie.” And then, maybe, Marc will be back.

Valentino certainly seems to think so.

——

Pecco spends the morning in the corner of Valentino’s right-angled sofa, half-watching the GT onboards on the television.

“This is last year?” he asks, when he catches Valentino staring at the wall rather than the screen.

“Ah, yes, yes. This is—not me. I have to watch my stints, and compare.” Valentino raises his eyebrows with a grin. “Homework.”

Pecco snorts. The Ferrari hypercar darts into view on screen. “These things are fast, no? How was it when you tested the BMW?”

“You cannot imagine. It is like a spaceship, Pecco.” Another smile. “Nothing like a bike.”

Down the hall, the lock turns in the front door. Valentino hears it, because he stops for half a beat, freezes, as if for all his confidence, he had thought what if?

Footsteps, then Marc appears in the door, crosses the room in two steps, leans down to Valentino’s level, presses his hand against Valentino’s cheek. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “sorry.”

Even across the room, Pecco can see the way Valentino sags, weary, relieved, and twists his head to kiss the inside of Marc’s wrist. “Your hands are cold. Go and have a shower. I’ll heat up some food.”

The tense line of Marc’s shoulders releases, just a little.

“Your coffee is beside the sink,” Valentino says, soft. “No rush, yes?”

“Okay,” Marc says, and he doesn’t move, still folded over Valentino in the chair.

Marc apologises often, even when he’s in the wrong. It’s an easy word, an easy offering. Whatever this is—it’s effort. It’s trying.

“Pecco, you are staying for lunch?” Vale asks, easy as anything. “I know all you boys want from me is food—”

Pecco begins to protest, and that cracks the ice up Marc’s spine, lets him unfurl and pull away. Absolution sought and found, he disappears again, but this time his steps tread Valentino’s familiar stairs, up two flights to the main bedroom, dancing over the creaky floorboard outside the guest bathroom.

“We have some prepared meals in the fridge, if that is okay,” Valentino says, and Pecco jolts back to himself.

“Ah—yes. Fine. I mean, I can—”

“He will be upset if he thinks he scared you off.” A smirk, and it’s like Vale is back, like he came through the front door with Marc. “You will make Tardozzi so happy, Pecco.”

With a groan, Pecco accepts defeat, because he’s hungry, because it would make Davide smile, because he doesn’t want Marc to think he chased him off. Because Valentino cares that Marc might be upset. “Fine. Thank you.”

He stays on the sofa—Vale flaps his hands when Pecco offers to help—and scrolls absently through his phone, messages his sister to say he will be on time for dinner, just with Valentino for lunch. He doesn’t mention Marc.

“Here.” Marc has appeared again, wet hair flat against his head, one unruly curl threatening to break free. He’s holding Pecco’s hoodie. “This one is yours, no?”

“Yes,” Pecco says, then, “Thanks.” He almost adds a sorry, but decides against it when Marc throws the hoodie at his head. “Fuck you.”

All that gets him is a cackling laugh, and when he emerges from his own jumper, Marc has gone again. Pecco takes a long breath through his nose.

He is going to get off the sofa, and he is going to go into the kitchen, and Marc will be there, and so will Valentino, and—

They will be trying. And that’s good, Pecco thinks. It will be a good thing.

Marc laughs from the kitchen. Pecco puts his phone in his pocket and gets to his feet.

[wolfboy88]

for the make me write thingy, can i ask for all of them?

Of course you can darling 💜

🪩 Go Go Dancer Theo

“Yo, Raeken. That was hot. Quite a show,” a barely clad hunk says sauntering into the back room moments after them and Liam can only assume is another dancer. “Is this your boy?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Theo grins in reply, the two bumping fists and Liam grits his teeth. He’s not jealous. He’s not.

Liam’s head tilts in question like his brow. “Your boy?”

“You heard me Dunbar,” Theo lilts, the cockiness returning to his facade.

“If that were true, I wouldn’t have had to spend months tracking you down,” Liam reiterates, arms folded across his chest.

“Aww, sweetheart I think you might be a tad obsessed,” Theo drawls, even though the very thought of Scott’s beta actively looking for him has his insides going all tingly and warm.

🐺 Don’t Blame Me Ch4

Liam continues to repeat the useless mantra, his heart racing, as he hurriedly occupies the elevator. Grateful for a moment of calm, he closes his eyes, hoping to regain control. However, upon reopening his eyes, he realises he’s alone. His claws still extended, Liam panics for a moment until he spots Theo lurking in the corner, arms folded over his chest, his trademark smirk causes Liam's stomach to flutter with nerves.

Feeling hot and suffocated, Liam's heart races, overwhelmed by both his untethered control and the very presence of Theo. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he snarls, struggling to contain his anger.

Theo, unfazed by Liam's hostility, moves closer, his fingers lazily carding through Liam's messy hair. "Well, well, well, look at you," he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. "Are you playing without me? Sweetheart, I’m hurt.”

“You’re the one playing without me!” Liam growls, his anger mounting, yet unable to resist the sensations that Theo's touch stirrs within him as the chimera snatches the bag he’s been holding.

"Hey! Give that back!" Liam shouts, unsure when Mason had entrusted him with the bag in the first place.

"Did you get me a gift?" Theo teases as he opens the bag, revealing the dead rat. "Oh, you shouldn't have," he says sarcastically, dropping it to the floor. “But for future reference, I prefer rabbit or deer.”

“I fucking hate you,” Liam sneers as the lie burns his tongue.

😱 Scream Sequel

"Stay with me, everything will be alright," Liam assures, running his fingers through Theo's hair. He gently kisses Theo's forehead and whispers, "You did really well, babe. The knife shouldn't have hit anything important, okay? We just need to focus on stopping the bleeding."

Theo wheezes, a bloody smile forming on his lips. "Looks like someone paid attention during anatomy lessons after all."

"What can I say? I have a hot tutor," Liam grins, before putting on a slightly hysterical act when Jordan returns.

🚬 Shotgunning Thiaac

“So Liam, who gives better head,” Isaac quips cheekily.

Liam chuckles, the playful banter adding a lightheartedness to the post-orgasmic haze. He looks at Isaac with a mischievous glint in his eyes, his hand gently caressing Isaac's cheek.

"Hmmm," Liam hums, his voice filled with mock seriousness. "I think we'll have to conduct a more thorough investigation to determine the answer to that question."

Theo, with a grin on his face, chimes in, "Oh, we definitely need a fair and unbiased assessment.”

There’s a pause before they all sing out in unison: “Scott!”

[heartofsnark]

Black Market Wonderland (Chapter Nine): We’re Covered In Lies and That’s Okay

Notes: I’ve given up on maintaining proper consistent schedules for my fics, but I want to attempt to update at least once every other month for each of my series that are going on rn. I always wanna say thanks for some of the replies/comments on my last chapter that were really supportive and awesome about my disaster of a situation with grad school. I struggle to like respond and be a functional human being, but i read everything and love you all.I will be trying to like alternate posting chapters to each series, monthly. So like, April is Tsun, May will be Dahlia, but uhhhhhhhh every time i try to be consistent, it blows up in my face so that's cool. 

Word Count: 7,152

Warnings: This one is pretty tame, cursing, some pettiness. I introduce a new OC cause i can’t fucking contain myself. 

Missed the last chapter? Link Here!

“Hmmm, I don’t know…” 

“Please,” Anais shakes her clenched fists in a begging motion, “please, please, please!”

The day has passed by easily enough, no snags or major confrontations from the idiots in the penthouse. A nice relaxed day of normal work with Anais clinging to her side, as they teach each other languages. It won’t be long before Tsuneko has to return her to her parent’s room for the evening, they’re walking that direction on the VIP floor.  All it took was mentioning maybe giving the young girl a present for her to start begging excitedly. Of course, Tsuneko already has the small pompompurin coin purse in her pocket, something she won in a crane game, but doesn’t need. 

“Hm, let’s see, maybe we can make it a reward. Do you remember how to sign, ‘hello, my name is Anais’?” 

“Yeah, see,” Anais replies with a big grin and signs the greeting, perfectly. 

“Here, you’ve more than earned it,” Tsuneko tells her, before handing over the little plush coin purse. Her blue eyes sparkle the second she sees it and she hugs it to her cheek. 

“I love it!” 

One of Anais’s hands wraps around Tsuneko’s, the other clutches around her gift, as they walk towards the room. The young girl is practically skipping as they near their destination. 

“Tsuneko,” a familiar masculine voice calls out, Mr. Bucci. 

“Hello, Mr. Bucci,” Tsuneko greets him, Anais hides behind her leg, shy around the strange older man, “Anais, this is Mr. Bucci, he’s a friend of my boss from Italy, why don’t you say hello?” 

“Ciao,” Anais murmurs, still a little awkward, but Mr. Bucci gives her a kind smile. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, say, Tsuneko. I’m sorry to be a bother, but would you mind showing me around the hotel? I’d get lost in a paper bag I’m afraid.” 

“Ah, I’m showing Anais back to her parent’s room at the moment, but if you could wait for just a moment, I can be with you shortly?” Tsuneko offers, even if the room isn’t far away, she wouldn’t feel comfortable just abandoning Anais on the VIP floor alone. 

“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” 

Tsuneko excuses herself and Anais, leading the girl down the hall down to her parent’s room. She has a quick chat with Esme, about when the family is visiting Puroland, as well as the fact that Tsuneko may have days in the coming week where Ichinomiya will ask her to work outside of the hotel. It’s officially the second week of the bet and she’s expecting him to make a full force effort before the end of it, since he doesn’t seem keen on just giving up. She says her goodbyes to the family for the night and returns to Mr. Bucci in the hallway. 

“Sorry for the wait, sir,” Tsuneko apologizes as they start to walk towards the elevator. 

“It’s no problem at all,” he pauses for a moment, “I’m starting to understand more and more why Eisuke seems so enamored with you. Sweet, cute girl, great cook and good with children.” 

“Mr. Bucci,” her stomach churns at the thought of Ichinomiya’s saccharine fake smile, “you’re far too kind, I’m sure Mr. Ichinomiya isn’t quite as fond of me as you think.” 

“Nonsense, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Uh,” she stutters as they reach the elevator, wanting to escape this conversation, “so, do you think you know exactly what you’re looking to do? I’m sure you’re well acquainted with the casino, but there are also museums, theaters, pools, plenty of restaurants with food from all over. There’s actually an Italian restaurant, people say the food is really authentic, but I wouldn’t really know, personally.” 

“Actually,” he cuts off her rambling, “I was hoping we could have a chat over dinner. I’m sure Eisuke won’t mind.” 

She’s sure he wouldn’t, so long as Tsuneko doesn’t out his bullshit. Her regular rooms are all cleaned for the day, the only thing left on the schedule is cleaning the penthouse. So, it’s not impacting anyone else in the hotel and she tells Ichinomiya she was buttering up Mr. Bucci, he won’t particularly care. 

“Yeah, that should be fine.” 

It’s an awkward elevator ride to the floor with the restaurants, Tsuneko’s arms are folded behind her back to feign some sort of confidence, despite how badly she wants to run. She can’t say for certain what Mr. Bucci wants with her, perhaps just mining her for information about Ichinomiya, but why would he need her for that. There’s a devilish part of her brain that reminds her this would be a chance to out him, to tell Mr. Bucci all about the little game Ichinomiya is playing. 

But she can’t bring herself to do something like that. Ichinomiya is an asshole and all-around garbage excuse for a human being, but his success affects more than just him. If the success of the Tres Spades continues to grow and get more money, the employees continue to prosper and make more money. The Tres Spades isn’t some shitty corporation that pays them minimum wage and no benefits. Tsuneko’s situation is an extreme case, she knows that, despite his piss poor personality, Ichinomiya and the Tres Spades take care of their employees. 

Not to mention, another hotel, means more job opportunities for people who may need them. People who were like her when she applied, desperate and needing a source of income, could have an opportunity to do more than survive. 

Plus, if the hotel expands across the globe, it can help employees in other ways. She thinks of Chisato and Itsuki, the two are basically engaged, but can’t movee beyond that point if they want to because gay marriage isn’t legal in Japan. Chisato has been with the hotel for years and can’t just move to elsewhere without having a job at least as good lined up. If there were more locations, in places where it’s legal, she could have both. So, if the Tres Spades expands…

As much as she hates to sound like a capitalist, helping Ichinomiya really does have ripple effects that help more people. She has to find a balance of not fucking herself over, but not hurting anyone else in the grand scheme of things.  

Tsuneko would message Ichinomiya, to at least let him know why she’ll be late cleaning the penthouse and so he doesn’t suspect she’s going out of her way to ruin things. But the only way she has of contacting him is the pager which is on a speaker and she’s not giving that man her phone number. 

They arrive at the Italian restaurant the Tres Spades has and Tsuneko immediately feels out of place. It’s mostly guests here for a nice dinner, dressed to the nines, while she’s in her maid uniform. The mixture of cleaner products and sweat is still heavy on her skin. 

They’re shown to a table and Tsuneko is trying not to anxiously bounce or move around in her seat. Mr. Bucci orders wine and she gets water, he seems to be beating around the bush, dragging her discomfort out.  Tsuneko forgets what she ordered a moment after she orders it. Mr. Bucci is the dictionary definition of calm, as he takes a sip of his wine, Tsuneko is sick of this. 

“What did you want to talk to me about?” 

He puts his glass down on the table and gives a small chuckle. Mr. Bucci has never struck her a mean or cruel man, but he’s a mob boss. There are so many dangerous places this conversation could go. 

“Cutting right to the chase, are you?” 

“My heart can’t handle doing anything else.” 

“There’s no need to look so scared, relax, eat.” 

She pops an appetizer into her mouth but can’t quite appreciate the taste through her nerves. The attempt seems to appease him to some degree, as he clears his throat to speak again. 

“Carolina has become rather infatuated with Eisuke, despite him having feelings for you.” 

“I don’t think he-”

“Please, humor me,” he puts his hand up to make her shush, “I know Carolina has been taking things out on you, which isn’t right, but she’s always felt her emotions very intensely. If your and Eisuke’s relationship were to go further, it would crush her, and she’d only get nastier with you.”

Is this entire dinner about warning her away from Ichinomiya for Carolina’s sake? Because that’s not an issue. Tsuneko wouldn’t waste her time fighting over a man she liked, let alone one she’s actively trying to avoid.  

“I know it’s asking a lot, but it would be nice if you and Carolina could become friends.” 

“Huh?” 

“I was hoping from the way he acted last time they met, perhaps he had feelings for her as well, but it can’t be helped. If Carolina could see you as more of a friend, less of a rival, I think it would be good for both of you.” 

“Uh,” that’s not what she expected, “if this is all about getting me to make nice with your daughter, I’m not sure there’s much I can do. I’m not exactly the one making it, uh, contentious. And even if I did, I’m not sure if it would make her feel any better about Mr. Ichinomiya.” 

“I know my Carolina can be difficult, but I do think it would help for her to have a friend here.”

“I’m not confident that I’m the best choice for that.” 

“It would mean a lot to me if you tried, maybe a girl’s day for the two of you could be arranged?” 

Tsuneko chews her lip and pokes at her meal, unsure of what to say or do. Her leg bounces beneath the table. Mr. Bucci strikes her as sincere, he genuinely wants the best for his daughter. And Tsuneko can see his point, Carolina doesn't strike her as the type who probably has a lot of female friends. The kind of mentality where Women are competition and men are some sort of prize. Which is exhausting. Both for those around her and surely for her as well.

"If you can get her to agree, I'll be more than happy to spend a day with her."

"Wonderful. I'll let you know when a date is arranged." Mr. Bucci smiles at her and Tsuneko prays Carolina refuses. The meal concludes with Tsuneko trying to hurriedly eat her entree, as to not waste the previously untouched food, and Mr. Bucci insisting on paying. 

Her mind wanders as she makes her way to the penthouse, she thinks of what he said, about believing Ichinomiya might have had feelings for Carolina. Everything he does, especially for business, is intentional. Even the smallest gesture calculated. He doesn’t give soft smiles or too long touches by accident. 

And while Carolina might be the type to misinterpret signals, her father doesn’t seem as apt to do so. Which, makes her wonder, did he lead Carolina on for the deal? Not that she thinks much of him to begin with, but that’s another layer of gross. 

She arrives at the penthouse, seeing a mish mash of familiar and unfamiliar faces. Baba and Kisaki are the only two of the auction managers there, but there’s four women gathered around them. Three she doesn’t know and one, she’s sadly familiar with, the girl who insulted her weight at the event Ichinomiya dragged her to. The women are undoubtedly beautiful, dressed in short seductive dresses. They’re guests, or at least she has to assume so, which sadly means Tsuneko needs to be well behaved. It’s one thing to mouth off to the assholes who bought her, but actual guests of the hotel she has to behave around. 

“Hey, princess,” Baba greets her, a woman with long red hair on his left and another with raven black hair on his right. The girl from the event is next to the red head, while another blonde is practically sitting in Kisaki’s lap. 

The three unfamiliar women give Tsuneko a quick once over but seem to ultimately decide they don’t care about her presence. While the one she’s met before, maintains a sharp cruel gaze. Unlike the other three, she doesn’t even seem to be fawning over the men, almost bored with this. 

“I’m here to clean,” Tsuneko announces with a customer service smile, “would anyone like anything to eat or drink before I start?”  

Kisaki and Baba shoots her confused looks, no doubt taken aback by her kind attitude. However, she can’t risk being inappropriate around actual guests. 

“Make yourself useful and get us some wine,” the familiar woman pipes in, showing off her empty glass like Tsuneko is too stupid to understand otherwise. 

“Of course.” 

She gathers the empty glasses and makes her way to the penthouse kitchen area.  There’s a bottle of fancy red wine on the counter, from whenever they first served it, so she tops off each glass and brings it out to them. 

“So, you let maids up here?” The redhead asks, twirling a crimson lock around her finger. 

“Koro’s special,” Kisaki taunts, despite his sugary sweet smile, and she bites her tongue, only sending him a quick pointed glare. 

“I’m the penthouse maid, Tomori Tsuneko.” 

“I think the dog name suits you more,” the event girl tells her, her eyes sharp. She’s a pretty girl, a shaggy pale blonde bob hair and burnished orange eyes. 

“You’re so mean, Kaede,” the blonde on the arm of Kisaki’s chair gushes out, like it’s cute. 

“If that’s all, I’ll begin cleaning now.” She at least has a name to attach to the mean girl, though she’s not sure how much that will actually help her. 

Tsuneko busies herself with cleaning the lounge, letting the residents become background noise. She manages to catch that Baba is reading the girl’s fortunes with cards. All of them but Kaede, oohing and aweing over it. 

“Hey, pretty lady, come over here,” Baba calls over suddenly as Tsuneko is dusting, every fiber of her being wants to tell him to shush and let her clean. But there are guests, actual guests here. 

“Is there something you need, sir?” She says instead, hoping the sir will somehow get her point across. Yet, Baba is smiling like a damn idiot. 

“Do you wanna have your fortune read?” 

There’s an annoyed twitch behind her eye, she is working. She can see Kisaki gremlin smirking out of her peripheral vision. They’re trying to push her buttons. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m working, sir.” 

“Oh, there’s no need to be shy, you know you can always call me Micchy!~” 

He winks at her, three girls giggle, but Kaede still shows no signs of being entertained. Instead, her nose wrinkles. A clatter of glass as she smacks her finger into the stem of her wine glass, knocking it from the table. 

“Ah!” Tsuneko flusters and rushes, she catches the glass before it shatters, but red wine drenches the front of her uniform. It soaks and chills through the fabric, making it stick to her. 

“Couldn’t let you slack off for too long,” Kaede tells her, voice hushed and a mean little smirk pulling at her lips. 

The door to the penthouse opens within the next moment, Ichinomiya and Oh entering the lounge. Like moths to a flame, suddenly the four women all flock over to them, abandoning Baba and Kisaki. 

“Eisuke, it’s great to see you again!~” Kaede gushes and he narrows his eyes. 

“We were waiting for you to get here!”

“I didn’t think we’d actually get a chance to meet the king!” 

“You’re even more attractive in person, oh my god!”  

“Are you okay?” Baba asks her, suddenly close and in her personal space. 

“Yeah, better on me than on the linoleum,” she awkwardly tugs at the wet chest of her uniform, cold drops of wine rolling down her cleavage, that Baba’s eyes seem to follow, “nothing got on your cards?” 

“Of all the things for you to be worried about,” Baba looks her in the eyes again and sighs, like he’s dealing with a child. 

“I mean, I could also worry about how you two just got ditched for Ichinomiya,” she teases, voice low, as Baba carefully takes the glass from her hand. He’s being, nice. 

“We’re used to it by now, some girls will do anything to get close to boss.” 

“What’s going on here?” Ichinomiya questions, glaring at the women for a moment, before his eyes land on Tsuneko and her wine-soaked uniform. 

“We just thought, it’d be okay for us to come up here and spend some time with you,” Kaede tells him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

“I take it, we know who’s to blame for letting you up here,” Oh glares at Baba who just grins. 

“What’s wrong for having some beautiful women here?” 

“Women who find it necessary to throw wine at my staff.” Ichinomiya narrows his eyes at Kaede, he doesn’t even have to wonder who’s to blame. 

“Accidents happen,” Kaede waves it off, “she’ll be fine, why don’t we have a drink, just the two of us?” 

“Get out.” 

“Huh, don’t be ridiculous-”

“I don’t have time for this, get out, now.” 

Slowly and with their heads hanging down, the women leave the penthouse, like they’ve been scolded. Which, she supposes isn’t that far from the truth. 

“Ugh, I can still smell their perfume,” He’s not wrong, the smell of expensive perfume still hangs in the air. 

“Are you sure you should talk to guests like that?” 

“They’re not staying here.” 

“What?” 

“Those women just hang around in the casino, like flies,” Oh explains. 

“God damn it, I was polite for nothing!” 

“It was so funny watching you try to behave yourself.” Kisaki snickers. 

“Oh shut up, now, if you’ll excuse me,” she says and starts to head to the door, wine making her thighs stick together awkwardly. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ichinomiya stops her. 

“I’m gonna go change then come back to clean, the wine didn’t get on anything else, so don’t worry.”

“You’re going to let guests see you like that?” He narrows his eyes at her, and she looks down at the mess on her uniform, not that she needs to, she can feel it sticking to her. 

“Well, it’s not going anywhere on its own.” She flails her arms out, glaring at him, what the hell does he expect?

“I’ll see if Kenzaki can bring you up a change of uniform.” 

“Come on, you can get cleaned up in my bathroom and we’ll get your uniform taken care of,” Baba says, placing a hand on the small of her back as he leads her towards his suite, even though she knows where it is, his hand is welcomed warmth against the chill of the spilled wine.

She steps into his bathroom, familiar with the elaborate set up. The sun is just starting to set, shining orange golden light in through the giant window. 

“There’s bathrobes for you to change into or you can borrow some clothes from me if you’d like.” He winks, because of course he does. 

“I’ll take the bathrobe.” 

He gives a melodramatic pout and she pushes him from the bathroom. The door shut behind him, she takes off her shoes and starts to unbutton her uniform. Her eyes dart between the tub and the shower, immaculate. The idea of relaxing back in a hot soapy bath looking at the sunset out the window, sounds so nice. However, reality is a cruel mistress, and she doesn’t have the luxury of taking her time and relaxing. She’s technically on the clock and she’s better off just taking a shorter shower. 

There’s a bit of relief from the sticky wine, tacky on her skin, when she lets her uniform drop to the floor and peels off her stockings. The worst of the mess is off her, but it’s well soaked through the layers to her skin. She can even feel the residue on her nipples where it’s dripped down and soaked through her bra.  Her underwear joins the pile of clothes and she starts up the shower, steam filling the room. 

She leaves a towel over the stall door and steps under the hot water. There’s an array of the hotel provided items with soft clean neutral scents, but she notices a few of Baba’s products as well. They’re all rose and jasmine scented, floral almost romantic scents. Not that different from her own shampoo, but just slightly stronger. Of course, he drinks rose tea and uses rose soap, like the cheesy schmuck he is. Those thoughts don’t stop her from using it. Tsuneko’s muscles relax as she washes the grime from her skin and hair, not just the wine but the sweat of the day so far.  

The door creaks as she’s massaging soap into her breasts, she jolts, a slick mess of suds and water in the shower stall makes her feet slip. She just manages to burrow her fingers into the towel before she yelps out, her ass hitting the floor. Pain shoots up her tailbone. The door swings open further. 

“Tsuneko!” Baba’s voice jumps an octave as he rushes into the room, whirling around to see her. She scrambles to place the towel, so it covers her chest and groin, though she feels like he probably already got an eyeful in the amount of time it takes her. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” 

“Are you okay, I heard you yell?” 

“Yeah, because you opened the fucking door!” 

“Uh, oh,” realization seems to dawn on him, and he covers his eyes before turning his back to her, “I was going to get your clothes, so we can send them to be cleaned.”  

“You couldn’t have waited?!” 

“The quicker they’re washed the better, you don’t want the stains to set.” 

“Just go!” 

Baba flusters about for a moment before grabbing her pile of wine-soaked clothes and leaving the bathroom. She heaves out a deep sigh, once she hears the door shut behind him. Tsuneko gets back up on her feet, the towel is completely soaked now, so she tosses it aside. Fearful of another interruption, she finishes up as quickly as possible. 

She shuts the shower off and does a quick dry off.  They’re probably still sticky, but she goes to grab her underwear, to find they’re not there.  Great, so not only has Baba seen her naked, but he knows what kind of underwear she wears. And, she’ll be wearing a bathrobe with nothing underneath,  around them all. Lovely. 

The bathrobe is clearly meant for an adult man and she doesn’t see any in smaller sizes. It’s soft fluffy white material, she pulls it on, she feels and looks a bit like a marshmallow, but that’s not a complaint. Plus, the excess fabric should make it easier to stay covered. It sags a little low on her shoulders, the sleeves hang over her hands, and the bottom drags across the floor as she leaves the bathroom. 

Baba is just outside the bathroom door and she can’t help the pout that pulls at her face, asshole. He’s smirking in response and her fist is connecting with his side in the next moment. He barely flinches at the strike and she can feel the muscle beneath his shirt. 

“Pull that kind of shit again and I’ll castrate you.” 

“I only had the best of intentions, scouts honor.” He gives a cheesy little smile and scout salute, that she isn’t buying for a second. 

“Hmmph.” 

She lets out a huffy noise as she fixes her still damp bangs and moves towards her stuff that’s on the side table. Baba must have taken them from her pockets when he got her clothes. There are wine stains on some of her sticky note pads and a bit on her phone case, the phone itself doesn’t feel soaked, however. It’s already been scratched all up, she’s not sure how much more it can handle. 

“This is the first time I’ve seen you with your hair down, somehow you just manage to get prettier and prettier.” 

She rolls her eyes at his compliment, despite the heat in her cheeks. It’s sweet and she’s sure he’s right, the only one who’s seen her with her hair down fully was Kisaki when he was fixing it for the event. She twirls a still damp lock of her around her finger. 

“You never lay off with the cheesy shit, do you?” 

“I’m just an honest man.” 

“You walked in on me showering and stole my underwear!” 

“I was honestly trying to help.” 

A heavy sigh escapes her as she puts her phone in the robe pocket and heads to the lounge, hopefully Kenzaki has brought a change of uniform for her. Baba follows after her, Kishi is on one of the couches smoking a cigarette. He managed to miss the chaos, lucky him. 

“What the hell?”

“Don’t ask.” She waves him off, dismissing him and his smoke cloud as she takes a seat. Tsuneko is careful to fold her legs in the chair so she stays cocooned and covered in the robe. 

“One of Boss’s fangirls got a little testy.” 

“There are no spare uniforms in your size, so you’ll have to wait until laundry services washes yours,” Ichinomiya explains to her. 

“So, what I’m hearing is I’m getting overtime pay?” 

Ichinomiya sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, but he doesn’t argue with her. At the very least a bit of extra money in her bank account, but now she’s stuck spending time with them. Last time she was actually sat down with them was when Ichinomiya gave her the confidentiality agreement, before she proposed the bet. She can remember just how tense and rigid she was, now she’s curled up in a robe. 

She fiddles with the edge of the robes sleeve, suddenly aware of the strangely vulnerable position she’s put herself in with them. Hair damp from the shower and still down, not a smudge of makeup, in nothing but an oversized robe. Something about it all seems cozy, comfortable. She curls her knees in a bit closer at the thought, as if providing a bit more protection. 

“Since you’ve got time you want to get your fortune read, now?” Baba offers, smiling. 

“Aren’t you a little old to believe in that kind of shit?” 

“You wound me and so soon after our special moment together in the shower.” 

“Don’t say shit like that!” She reaches out and smacks him with the long sleeves of the robe, it hits his face and he just keeps grinning. 

“Don’t tell me you’re into old men, now, Koro.” 

“He walked in while I was showering!” 

“You really have the worst luck, don’t ya?” 

“You’re telling me. Speaking of shitty luck and women who hate me, Mr. Bucci wants me to spend time with Carolina.” 

“Does he now?” 

“And you actually agreed to that?” 

“What was I supposed to do?” She shoots Oh an incredulous look. 

“I’m not sure that’s the smartest idea, princess.” 

“Mr. Bucci is gonna talk to her about it, best case scenario she refuses and worst case scenario I have to suffer through a day of her snide little insults.” 

“Did you forget they’re mafia members?” 

“And Carolina is jealous of you.” 

“So,” she shrugs at Oh and Baba’s implications, “she’s not gonna do anything crazy.” 

“You can’t let your guard down around people like that.” 

“What’s that suppose to mean, slacker?” 

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

Kishi and Oh are glaring daggers at each other, Oh’s hand starts heading towards where she’s sure his gun is. She tries not to snicker and starts scrolling through her phone again. Ichinomiya clears his throat, stopping the short-lived altercation. 

“Make sure you take your pager.” 

“Why, so you can badger me when you want coffee?” 

“Just do what I say.” 

“Just do what I say,” she mocks him, not bothering to look up from her Instagram feed. Chisato posted a cute selfie, that she gets a glimpse of before her phone is pulled from her hand, “hey!” 

Kisaki has a hold of her phone, he’s perched himself on the arm of the chair she’s sitting in, his smarmy gremlin grin on his face. She doesn’t need him going through her phone, she’s already had one of them see her practically naked today. 

“What are you look- hey,” she grabs her phone and yanks it from his hand, before pushing him off the chair arm. He gives a little yell, before his ass hits the floor. 

“Don’t touch my phone.” 

He shoots her a disgusted look from the floor and she hears the other men snickering. 

“You’re so aggressive,” he says, glaring at her. 

“Do you have something on there you don’t want people to see?” Baba asks, smirking. 

“What is or isn’t on my phone is none of your concern.” 

“You’re not helping yourself.” Ichinomiya isn’t looking up at them, but he’s smirking just the same. 

“You’re not wrong.” She sighs, hiding her phone away back in her pocket. 

There’s a knock, before Kenzaki steps into the lounge, carrying a laundry bag. 

“Tomori’s clothes have been washed.” 

She’s already out of her chair and making a beeline for Kenzaki, plucking the laundry bag from his hand and muttering a thanks before heading towards Baba’s bathroom. Tsuneko double, triple, checks that the door is locked before she starts to change back into her uniform. There is absolutely no signs of the wine on her uniform, the laundry services at the hotel are beyond amazing. Once she’s changed and tucked everything back into her uniform pockets, she’s able to get back to work. Cleaning the lounge and suites doesn’t take her much time at all

Tsuneko returns to her dorm later than average, going through her nighttime routine of caring for Kiyo and preparing for that stupid auction. The only thing unique to the whole process at this point is crossing off days until the end of the bet. It’s the final marker of the whole routine now, the last thing she does before she closes her eyes. 

The next day at work isn’t quite as entertaining, Anais is enjoying Puroland with her family. Meaning, Tsuneko is left to her own usual routine. The first part of her shift passes by calmly and she gets to go enjoy lunch on time. Sakiko is eating a later lunch, Chisato and Itsuki got their lunch breaks to match up and are having a more romantic venture. So, Tsuneko decides to go out grab a quick bite during her break. Chisato already warned her that the gossip about Tsuneko working in the penthouse is only getting worse, so she’d rather have some distance between herself and her coworkers for a moment. 

After filling her stomach with hamburger steak and catching up on Monster Lovers during her solo lunch, she’s headed back to the hotel. There’s a soft breeze blowing through as she reaches the backlot, just as a group of unfamiliar men venture through the back door. What are they doing? It’s always something at this fucking hotel. 

“Excuse me, sirs!” She yells out as she starts sprinting after them, whatever reason they’re here, she plans on finding out. They don’t stop or respond out of earshot as she starts into the hotel. A glimpse of their back as they venture down the stairs, down to the basement level, she yells again. No response as they continue towards the sub-basement level, Wonderland. 

“Hey!” Her voice jumps up another three octaves as she rushes down the final set of stairs. There are even more unfamiliar men there, a line forming out of Wonderland door. Men shoot her confused looks. It’s all random men of all ages and appearances, though, most don’t seem too pleasant. 

She stomps and pushes her way through, all of the men shooting her dirty looks as she elbows her way through the crowd. Finally, she manages to make it into Wonderland. The Hatter is at the table across from one of the men, who have flooded the room.  He has a notebook open before him and is scribbling notes, like he’s interviewing them. 

“What are your hobbies?”

“Horse races, dog races, poker, pachinko.” Some man tells the Hatter in a gruff voice. 

“Oh, so you’re a gambling man then. How much would you say you usually bet at once?”

“Everything I have at the moment.”

“You like high stakes bets then!”

“I borrow money from friends sometimes, tell ‘em I’ll pay them back with interest.”

“Have you paid any of these friends back?”

“Not yet.” 

“Alright then. Next, please,” he calls another strange man forward to take the other’s place, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Hey.”  

“I have several questions I’d like to ask you; do you live nearby?” 

“About thirty minutes by train, I guess.” 

“Yes, that’s a very fine distance; what are your hobbies?” 

“Afternoon naps.’

“Pffff,” she scoffs, making both the man and the Hatter looks up at her. 

“Alice! Where have you been?” The Hatter shoots her a bright smile, while the man is glaring. He barely looks old enough to drink, so if he’s trying to look scary, it’s not going to work for him. 

“I just got back from my lunch break, what is all of this?” She gestures to the crowd of men. 

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not in the slightest.” 

“I’m having auditions for the new March Hare and Dormouse.” 

He’s not seriously letting strangers back in here, so soon after being robbed. 

“And where exactly did you find these men?” 

“I put an advertisement up on the website craigslist.” 

“What?” Her eyes grow wide, that’s so dangerous, people have been killed from doing stupid shit like this. 

“The online world is dull compared to Wonderland, but it’s very convenient.” 

“No way, nope,” she shakes her head emphatically, “you’re not doing this.” 

She pulls a chair from the table and climbs to stand on it, drawing attention to herself as well as seeing over the crowd of strangers. 

 “Alice, what are you doing?” 

“Hey,” she calls out, “I’m sorry, but you all need to go! The position is closed, there is no job, sorry for the trouble, you gotta get out of here!” 

“Alice!” The Hatter’s yell cuts through the disappointed grumbles of the men, she’s never seen him so angry, “please, do not act selfishly like that!” 

“Selfishly!?” 

“They all came out to be interviewed and you’re being rude!” 

“I’ll show you rude, everybody get the fuck out!” She stomps her foot down on the chair for emphasis. 

The Hatter is glaring at her as the men slowly make their way out of Wonderland. She needs to call Kenzaki and let him know, in case any of them get wise ideas about venturing through the hotel and causing trouble. Tsuneko hops down from the chair as the last man meanders out, grumbling under his breath about how good the pay was and she shuts the door behind him. 

“Why did you interfere?” The Hatter is glaring with a heavy, childish pout. 

“Because that was beyond stupid, that’s why!” 

“I must find a new March Hare and Dormouse! You enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?”

“That’s not the point, I don’t give a shit about the hare and mouse!” 

“Did you forget how lovely our parties were?” His face falls from anger to sorrow, unable to quite meet her eyes. 

“Did you forget that you were robbed like, two days ago?!” 

“Of course not!” 

“And what, you thought you should just have more strangers here?” 

He bites his lip and doesn’t meet her eyes, brow furrowing. 

“Do you have any idea how reckless that was? Any of those men could have robbed you or worse! Did you even think about that? Huh, what if I came down here and found you fucking dead, ‘cause you let anyone with a pulse and internet just waltz on in.” 

“I-”

“And what about everyone else here? What if one of them decided to go do something to a guest or one of the workers? For fucks sakes, even if those men weren’t bad, what if they found out about the auctions? What do you think Ichinomiya and them would do to keep them quiet?!” 

“I-”

“You could have gotten yourself and someone else killed, you can’t do this shit!”

His butt hits the ground with a thump, he’s plopped on the ground and pulled his knees to his chest, hiding his pouting face there. Watching an actual seven-year-old child felt less like babysitting. She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, getting her phone from her pocket then punching in Kenzaki’s number. 

“Hey, yeah, it’s Tomori. We’ve had an issue in the tearoom with security, everyone is safe, and nothing is taken. But I think it might be good to keep an eye out for any strange characters.”  

Kenzaki assures her it’s taken care of and she hangs up, looking over to see the Hatter still hasn’t budged from his new spot on the floor. She sighs, she knows he wants his dream Wonderland tea party, but he can’t sacrifice his own or someone else’s safety for that. Tsuneko chews her lip, the March Hare and Dormouse didn’t do much, other than arrange furniture. She can do that; god knows the pair of them weren’t conversationalists. 

Most of her plushies are licensed characters as are most of the ones in her crane games, so they probably won’t work for him. She does a few searches for dormouse and hare plushies, it takes her a few moments to find ones cute enough to add to her cart. Tsuneko sits on the floor next to the Hatter who’s still pouting. 

“I just wanted to have our tea parties again,” he mumbles against his knees. 

“I know, sweetie, but hey, how about these?” She nudges her phone against his knee, getting his attention. He finally looks up, eyes soft with unshed tears and biting at his lip before looking at the phone. 

“Oh…” 

“Would that work, having stuffed animals instead?” 

“Would you be happy with that?” 

“Well, yeah. I mean let’s be honest, the March Hare and Dormouse weren’t exactly shining conversationalists. All I care about is that you’re safe.” 

“That’s good then,” he says with a soft smile. 

“Okay, I’ll order them and the tea party will be complete before you know it.” She pats her hand on his back, hoping the gesture can convey even just a bit of comfort. He seems to relax under her touch. 

The door rattles open and all that comfort is useless as Ichinomiya steps into the room, no doubt Kenzaki informed him of the situation. The Hatter visibly curls into himself as the CEO’s harsh gaze lands on him. 

“What happened?” He doesn’t ask for, so much as demand an answer. 

“I-” The Hatter stumbles over his words and stalls, that shy soft-spoken boy shining through the façade. She squeezes his shoulder tight. 

“There was a little issue, he let in a few strangers…but they’re gone now.’

“You let strangers in, again?” 

“Um…”

“I already ripped him a new one. You know why it was wrong, right Mads?”

He nods his head, hat nearly falling over from the force of it. 

“And you’re not gonna do it again, right?” 

Another nod. 

“See, it’s fixed, I just wanted to make sure Kenzaki knew what happened, just in case.”

“I can’t have just anyone coming down here.” 

“He knows, he knows.” 

“He can talk for himself.” 

“Not with you scaring him, he can’t.” 

“Is this going to happen again?”

“No, I won’t do it again…” The Hatter mumbles out a response. 

“I’m holding you to that.” There’s a subtle threatening edge to his words, like a father threatening to ground his son. 

“He knows, go, go,” she tries to shoo him off like a fly, earning a glare, “I’ll make you coffee when I clean the penthouse later.”

“Obviously.” He sneers and gives another stern look towards the Hatter before finally taking his leave. 

She spends a few more minutes with the Hatter, ensuring he’s feeling better before she goes back to work. Her shift passes by with her on edge, looking out for any of the men from the Hatter’s auditions. None of them seem to have spread out to the hotel or taken up causing trouble, so she’s able to finish up work with little trouble. Other than a moment of annoyance when she makes Ichinomiya his precious coffee. 

“You guys wanna get drinks?” Chisato asks as they’re leaving the locker room. 

“You sure that’s a great idea with little miss pervert here?” Sakiko points a thumb in Tsuneko’s direction, a hint of pink in her cheeks. 

“I’m not up for it anyway, so don’t worry.” She playfully shoves her as they leave out the back entrance. With the stress of the Hatter’s little auditions, this is the kind of night meant for cozy pajamas and ferret cuddles. 

Chisato and Sakiko wave a bye to Tsuneko as they venture off towards the bar, her towards the dorms. Her steps halt, who’s outside the dorms? It’s a younger man, mess of auburn hair and green gold eyes, leaning against the building. A moment passes by before she realizes where she’s seen him before, he was one of the men interviewing with the Hatter. What on earth is he still doing here?

“Hey!” She yells out as she marches over towards the guy. 

“You really do yell a lot, don’t you?” He comments, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“What are you still doing here? I told you to go home.” 

“And why would I do that?” 

“’Cause there’s literally no reason for you to be here.” 

“What’s the deal with the dude in the basement?” He asks suddenly and it’s like ice water’s been dumped on her. Of course, there had to be one person who stuck it out to ask questions. 

“That’s none of your business.”

“Alice, was it?” 

“Tsuneko, now go home.”

“I’m Hachirou, look, if I can’t make a buck off of this, I at least wanna know what the hell is going on,” he pleads as she’s opening the door to the complex. 

“Go home and stop answering craigslist ads, it’s dangerous.” 

With that she disappears into the complex, heading to her own dorm. Once there, she peeks out the window, watching as Hachirou finally takes his leave. She clutches her good luck charm and hopes that will be the end of it, for his sake more than her own. 

[jentrevellan]

Believe Again: Chapter Six

Rating: Mature Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition Relationships: Cullen Rutherford x Female Trevelyan Tags: slow burn, slow build, slow romance, mage/templar dynamics, family drama, templars, mages, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, lyrium withdrawal, crisis of faith, loss of faith, The Chantry, sexual tension, innuendo

MASTERPOST:

A/N: Tags to be updated. Chapters posted on the 1st Thursday of the month.

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CHAPTER SIX - Cullen

Arguably those first few weeks following the formation of the Inquisition were the most pivotal. Although there was no leader yet, the initial actions were carried out by the Herald of Andraste herself. The advisors were there to simply advise, but it does appear that she took her own path and made her own decisions in the Hinterlands, much to the apparent frustration and anguish of the others (see appendix VII for detailed experts of letters). Some may think her brash and arrogant, but her legacy of saving lives and helping others is evidence to the contrary.

- An extract from the book ‘Lady, Mage, Herald, Inquisitor: a biography of Elsie Trevelyan’ by Hugo DeSalvet

6. Cullen

“She’s done what ?”  

They were in the warm and stuffy War Room for their morning meeting and Leliana had taken Cullen and Josephine through the latest report from Scout Harding in the Hinterlands and Cullen couldn’t quite believe his ears.

“The Herald has secured most of the inner Hinterlands - she’s been very busy indeed,” Leliana replied, handing the report to Josephine.

“Goodness,” the Antivan exclaimed. “Mounts for the Inquisition secured from Dennet; apostate camp destroyed; templar stronghold disassembled; rifts closed; forward camps established… it goes on!”

“Let me see that,” Cullen grumbled, taking the missive from the ambassador. He skimmed the contents. “Reports of a dragon! Maker’s breath, is she trying to prove something? That she is immortal, playing with fate this way?”

“I hardly think that’s her intention, Cullen,” Josephine said evenly. “Her hard work and determination in the Hinterlands will no doubt bring us useful allies, and perhaps even the Queen of Ferelden may begin to take notice.”

“Indeed,” Leliana said, clasping her hands behind her back. “I’ve received word from my spies that the work the Herald is doing is laying the foundations to our reputation - everyone is talking about her and her deeds.”

Cullen passed the report back to the spymaster, but he was not sold yet. “She was told to return to Haven once she had spoken to Mother Giselle-”

“Oh! That reminds me: the Good Mother arrived this morning actually,” Leliana interrupted.

“Ah, excellent,” Josephine replied. “I shall ensure she is comfortable with rooms in the Chantry.”

“Now hold on-” Cullen tried to get a word in but not for the first time, his words fell on deaf ears as Leliana and Josephine continued to chatter - that part of the conversation about the Herald was past and settled, in their view.

As the women began to talk enthusiastically about a noble’s daughter they once knew, Cullen turned to his pile of reports and opened one with interest as he recognised Cassandra’s handwriting.

Cullen,

I have made contact with Corporal Vale and whilst I’m sure he has filled you in already on the granular detail, I just want to confirm that the relief efforts are progressing albeit slowly: although it would be slower still if it weren’t for the insistence and help of the Herald.

I am still very unsure what to really make of her. On one hand, she acts rashly and appears to have exceedingly high morals. I would call her selfish, but the Herald has hindered our progress with the sole reason to help the people here - I can see no other reason nor ulterior motive.

On many occasions, I have stressed that we would be better off leaving Corporal Vale and his soldiers to do their assigned duties without our interference, but the Lady Herald is almost as stubborn as you are.

Despite this, I hope for us to return to Haven within the next week or sooner, Maker willing. Trevelyan needs to learn that she can not fix every problem under the sun.

With regards,

Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast

*

Nearly four weeks after receiving Cassandra’s letter, there was finally word that the Herald had finally left the Hinterlands. And yet a week after that, there was still no sight of her or her party. Every day since, the people of Haven had been anticipating her return and more people arrived daily seeking help or enlisting in the meantime. Although Cullen was loathed to admit it, Josephine and Leliana had been correct: the work she had been doing in the Hinterlands was increasing their reputation and influence as well as bolstering their forces. Each and every day, Cullen found himself face-to-face with more new recruits, from sellswords and mercenaries to templars and apostates. Not only that but more and more young men and women were signing up, eager to fight and learn, even though they were still wet behind the ears.

As Cullen watched over a small regiment of new recruits run drills one afternoon, activity in the expanding stables caught his eye. He saw Josephine approach the new horse master Dennet and exchange excited words, whilst looking at a horse he couldn’t quite see. Cullen excused himself and left Rylen to continue the drills, as curiosity got the better of him.

“Aye, ‘tis a fine breed indeed, even if it is from the Marshes,” Dennet was saying, brushing the horse’s mane.

Josephine nodded thoughtfully. “Hmmm, it seems my letter to Bann Trevelyan proved to be more beneficial than I had anticipated.”

“I’ll say,” Dennit continued. “This is not the only Trevelyan horse they’ve sent - have a look at the missive, milady: there are to be at least half a dozen more expected in the coming weeks.”

“What do you think, Cullen?” Josephine asked as he approached.

He looked at the mare who was quite calm in her stall, despite the flurry of activity. She was a soft sandstone colour with a peppering of warm dark marks like freckles on her rear.

“This is a fine horse,” Cullen conceded.

Josephine smiled and looked annoyingly smug. “You see Commander - a little nobility can go a long way.”

“No doubt that is why you are the Ambassador and I am not,” he replied dryly before turning to Dennet. “You mentioned more horses from Trevelyan?”

“Yes ser - they are to arrive soon, but this one was sent ahead: she’s is a gift for the Herald.”

Cullen crossed his arms. “They needn’t have bothered with the effort - by the time the Herald does come back to Haven, the horses could’ve been here and be on their way back in that time.”

Josephine rolled her eyes. “Lady Trevelyan will be back soon: she is doing such good work, as you know.”

“Even though she can’t follow simple orders,” he muttered.

“Forgive me ser, err, Commander,” Dennet interjected before Josephine could reply. “Beggin’ your pardon, but if it weren’t for her, many of the folk in the Hinterlands would’ve perished, and then some.”

Cullen said nothing and inspected the new Trevelyan mare again. It was hard to stay angry at the Herald even when his own prejudices and assumptions about her told him he had every right to be annoyed. And yet Dennet’s words had abruptly put him in his place. However, disagreeing with her blatant lack of regard to follow orders or even acknowledge them was something he could not tolerate from any of his recruits, nor any of the men and women who served the Inquisition’s army. Maybe that’s where my fault lies , he thought. Perhaps I need to stop seeing her as a recruit and take her for what she is . Although he wasn’t sure what that was exactly - other than a stubborn, noble mage, who was annoyingly beautiful-

“Commander?” Dennet interrupted his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or agitated that he hadn’t been able to complete his trail of thought, as it was dangerous territory.

“Sorry - you were saying?” he tried to give the man his full attention. “I’m afraid my mind was momentarily elsewhere.”

“Thinking about trebuchets, no doubt,” Josephine teased.

He didn’t dare entertain the thought of voicing what he had actually been thinking, so said smoothly: “Funny you should mention that Lady Ambassador,” he continued, silently gleeful at his expert diversion. “We’re having a few issues transporting some materials for the construction of the trebuchets. Apparently, some Orlesian seems to think he owns Haven.”

Dennet snorted. “Even though it’s in Ferelden.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Cullen said, flashing a rare but brief smile at Dennet. It was good to be back in his home country and to be with fellow countrymen.

Josephine sighed. “Leave that to me - I will arrange a meeting with the Marquis and smooth things over. A good day to you both,” she said, excusing herself politely.

“While you’re here Commander, would you like to see your stallion?” Dennet asked, making his way further into the stables.

Cullen nodded and followed him. “I suppose it would be good to see him. I feel I am rather neglecting him at the moment.”

“It’s understandable ser - but he is gettin’ a bit restless,” Dennet admitted as they approached his black-coated Ferelden Forder. His hooves kicked the barn wall and he grunted as Cullen went to offer him an apple Dennet handed him. The stallion blinked slowly at Cullen before being sold by the treat and begrudgingly began to eat the apple from Cullen’s open palm.

“Have you thoughts of a name for him yet?”

“I haven’t, no,” Cullen admitted. “What did you call him, as his breeder?”

“We’ve called him Al since he was born, as he’s always been strong-willed and is very much the ‘alpha male’ with the other horses,” Dennet chuckled.

Cullen thought for a moment, patting the stallion’s dark neck. “I’ll call him Alphonse - but Al for short.”

“Very good, ser,” Dennet smiled. “It’s a strong name for a strong horse.”

Alphonse nudged Cullen’s hand and he went to scratch the horse’s nose. “I’ll take him for a ride tomorrow - could you see to it that he’s saddled and ready by first light please?” An early morning ride suddenly sounded a very appealing way to start his day.

As Dennet excused himself to assign work to some loitering stablehands, Cullen stayed a while longer with Alphonse, grateful for the silent companionship. His eyes travelled over the expanding stables that were filling up fast with mounts. He looked over at the Trevelyan mare and was reminded of her words about losing everything with her family when she became a mage. He, like all who joined the Templars, had also sacrificed his homes and family... but he and most of his fellow recruits had surrendered it willingly and with pride, unlike their charges. Why had he not considered that before?

“Commander?”

He turned to see a young page run up to him, with a letter in his hand, the seal unbroken.”This just arrived for you - from the Lady Herald,” he explained breathlessly.

Taking a final look at the Trevelyan horse, Cullen thanked the boy and began to walk back to his tent, slipping his fingers beneath the seal. He was unsure why his gut lurched at the thought of a letter from her, but all the same, he was perhaps a little keen to see what she had said. Upon writing this, she had been thinking of him. Although, their farewell at her departure had been less than amicable. Is that why I feel this way? Guilt?  

He unfolded the letter and stopped outside his tent to read in the sunlight.

Commander Cullen,

I understand that you may have a few reservations about my insistence upon staying in the Hinterlands. The fact of the matter is that these people need us, and I am all too capable to help. For you see, I am not a soldier in your army (you’re welcome, by the way, for the new recruits), I am not even under your command, and I do not follow your so-called orders. I am not, and I will never be your charge. I am a free woman, a free mage and will do what is right, and not blindly follow orders or wait until the last possible moment to do the right thing.

I will return when I return. Until then, try not to treat every passing mage as suspiciously as you do me. I know it will be difficult, but I have the utmost faith in you.

Regards,

Enchanter Elsie Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste  

He read the letter over several times outside his tent before scrunching it up in his fist. She knows then, he thought. “Curse that dwarf!” he swore aloud.

“Cullen?” he glanced up to see Rylen looking at him peculiarly. “You alright there, mate?”

He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Yes, fine, fine. Just a...frustrating report from the Herald is all.”

“I didn’t know the Herald was a dwarf,” the Starkhaven man quipped, earning him a glare from Cullen. He threw his hands up and chuckled. “Kidding, just kidding. Fancy a game of Wicked Grace to take your mind off whatever is going on in that curly head of yours?”

Cullen flinched at the subconscious use of his nickname bestowed upon him by the said dwarf and slowly shook his head, even though he was tempted. “Another time, perhaps. I feel the result of this report is going to give me much more work to do.”

“All the more reason to take a break now!” Rylen grinned, opening his arms in exaggeration.

With much reluctance, an hour or so later, Cullen found himself convinced and was sat in the tavern with other officers. He stared down at his tankard of ale, barely touching it and hardly playing the game, only speaking when was socially necessary. He still had her letter in his pocket, albeit scrunched up, and yet what she had said was burned in his mind. The hum of the tavern noise was drowned out as he repeated her words over and over in his head, beating himself up more and more each time. Finally, when it was his turn to deal and Rylen elbowed him in the ribs, Cullen decided to down his drink in one before focusing on the matter at hand - winning Wicked Grace.

*

A couple of days later, Cullen headed over to the stables, as was now part of his morning routine. As usual, Alphonse groomed and saddled, ready to go. He gratefully took the reigns from the bleary-eyed stablehand who barely registered he was there and mounted the stallion.

It was a cold morning, and even though it was dawn, there was little light as the sun was obscured by thick clouds. Nonetheless, Cullen dug his heels in and set off at a canter down the road, looking to perhaps ride for an hour to some of the forward camps dotted around the outskirts of Haven.

But Alphonse had different ideas. The horse moved well beneath him, and in the last few mornings together, had become accustomed to one another. He found himself on one of the forest paths, which went ever so gradually upwards a small hill on the side of a large mountain. He crossed not another soul, except from the morning chorus of the birds and one nug that ran out in front of Alphonse. It was idyllic and Cullen silently thanked the horse for leading him on a different path. He felt human again, and alive. And today is a new day , he thought, watching the sun rays peek through the clouds. The crisp morning had proven to be a serendipitous medicine to him.

As he descended the mountain path, he spotted fresh hoof marks in the snow which were not his own. He slowed Alphonse down and inspected them, estimating that there were perhaps three or four sets of hooves. He scratched his head and continued on - it had been a very long time since he had done any tracking, so his knowledge was terribly limited.

Upon approaching the stables, he was astounded to see it a hive of activity. Before he had left, it had been only himself and the sleepy stablehand and now stableboys and girls and assistants ran errands and Dennet’s voice boomed over the commotion. Cullen walked Alphonse into the chaos and saw four familiar horses outside, ready to be unsaddled.

“Lady Cassandra,” he said, spotting the Seeker. “You’ve finally returned.”

The Nevarran woman smiled thinly. “Finally indeed. Although I expect we will be back on the road soon if the Herald has anything to do with it.”

“As long as I’m given time to soothe my saddle sores, I don’t care,” Varric grumbled, limping away from his horse.

“If you had given us a proper warning of your return, then all arrangements for baths could’ve been made and ready for you-”

“Is that the sound of a disapproving commander, I hear?” another voice from behind him said. He whipped around to see the Herald pull her dark brown travelling cloak off her shoulders. “And it’s barely an hour past dawn,” she continued with a wry smile.

He opened his mouth to reply but snapped it shut as he took in her appearance; chestnut hair loosely braided down her back, windswept strands framed her face, and her cheeks and nose were flushed from the cold wind. He tried to remember that he was angry with her, but for the life of him, at that moment, he couldn’t understand why he would be mad at such a simple but beautiful woman…

“Lost for words, Commander? I’m flattered,” she smirked, her grey eyes twinkling mischievously. He blinked, his stomach flipping as her words were far too close to the truth.

She walked up to him and frowned as he still did not speak. Once again, his eyes involuntarily skimmed over her, but this time settled on her neck, where dark bruises were beginning to fade.

“What’s this?” he asked, impulsive brushing his gloved fingers gently over the marks.

It was Trevelyan’s turn to look uncomfortable, and her hands flew to her neck self-consciously; touching his in the process, which he snatched away as if scalded.

“Oh, this? This is nothing. A minor inconvenience at the Crossroads is all,” she said dismissively, not meeting his gaze.

Cullen’s brow furrowed and a twinge of what felt like fear came over him. “You were attacked,” he stated.

“Well yes, that is one of the hazards when you step into the middle of a war,” she forced a smile, but it did not reach her eyes and she faltered when she saw him looking down at her. “Careful Commander,” she said quietly. “Or I might think you actually care.”

His face heated up at her words and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, ahem. As long as you are alright.”

She smiled softly at him, and his gut twisted, not unpleasantly. “I am, thank you.”

He nodded, mainly to himself. “Good. well not good, but yes I am pleased you are alright. You are our only way of sealing the rifts, and we can’t afford to lose you.” he said and instantly regretted his words as she stiffened and her smile vanished.

“Ah, I see,” she said. “We can’t forget that I only have one use, and one use only,” she muttered, wriggling her fingers on her hand with the mark.

Cullen crossed his arms. “That’s not what I-”

“Isn’t it? Well it doesn’t matter,” she glanced at him and Cullen mentally kicked himself. You were worried about her as a person, is that so hard to admit ? he thought. He began to formulate something to say, but her eyes had been drawn away from him to something over his shoulder. She brushed past him, her eyes wide in awe as she approached the stall with the Trevelyan mare.

“Hello beautiful girl,” she murmured, placing a hand on the horse. “You’re Trevelyan bred, aren’t you?” she said with wonder.

Cullen cleared his throat and approached, making the Herald jump. “She’s a gift from your family.”

Elsie smiled faintly. “From my father, you mean. I sincerely doubt my mother had anything to do with this.”

He looked at her curiously, trying to comprehend her meaning, but she simply shook her head. “Nevermind - it’s a long story.”

Cullen didn’t press her but watched her quietly as she petted the horse, noting that she seemed almost at ease with the beast, and yet she chewed her lip, so he knew her mind was racing. Again, he was drawn to that simple innocent action which flooded his body with heat.

“What will you call her?” he asked, forcing himself to look at the horse and not Elsie. She contemplated his question by chewing her lip again and Cullen stared pointedly at the horse. He had to do something to stop his straying eyes. How can she elicit such a range of emotions from me when she’s none the wiser? He thought.

“Rose,” she said eventually.

“Rose?” he repeated.

“Well, they’re my favourite flowers, as cliche as that sounds, plus it reminds me of simpler times, at home,” she admitted, her cheeks faintly tinged with red, which Cullen couldn’t help but smile at.

“My sister is called Rose,” he blurted out suddenly. Elsie studied him with surprise. “Well, it’s Rosalie actually, but we always called her Rose when she was a baby.” He was rambling, but the woman before him appeared to be listening to him, so he continued. “I don’t know if she likes to be called that now though - it’s been such a long time since I’ve seen her.”

“When was the last time?” Elsie asked.

He thought a moment. “I was thirteen when I joined the Templars and left my family behind. So, what’s that? Sixteen, seventeen years? Maker, Rose was a toddler when I left and probably doesn’t remember me!”

“I’m sure she does,” Elsie said gently.

There was a pause. “If you don’t mind me asking, but how old were you when you went to the Circle?”

The question seemed to surprise her, but not as much as he surprised himself with it. Still, she didn’t scold him but tilted her head to the side. “Well, now that you mention it, I was probably about the same age as when you joined up. My sister Cecelia must be the same age as Rosalie: she was three when I left.”

“Cecelia didn’t forget you,” he said slowly.

Elsie smiled sadly. “No, she didn’t. But I was lucky enough to sometimes visit home - perks of being the ex-heir of a noble house in the city,” she shrugged.

They fell into a comfortable silence, their minds on times past, and Cullen thought of apologising for bringing up her deceased sister. But she didn’t seem angry or upset, just reflective. He himself was now more desperate than ever to see his siblings once again, as they were so close here in Ferelden, but still so far.

“Well, here we are,” Elsie said from the blue, and Cullen looked at her in confusion. “We’ve just had our first conversation that didn’t end up in bickering!” she laughed. “I take that as progress!”

Cullen couldn’t help but smile down at her. And that’s when he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was falling or Elsie Trevelyan, the Herald of Andraste, and a mage. Maker’s breath , he thought. She patted his arm affectionately and said farewell, heading to the bath-house. Cullen had to stop his mind from making the obvious assumption that in order to have a bath, she would have to remove her clothes-

“Dennet!” he cried out in a strangled voice, cutting off his thoughts abruptly. “I’ll take Alphonse out for a ride again tomorrow morning.”

The horse master raised his brows at his outburst but nodded. “Of course, Ser - I’ll make sure he’s ready.”

Cullen nodded. “Good, that’s good,” he said, watching Elsie walk away, noting the sway of her hips. He swallowed. I want her , he thought. Maker help me.  

*

Unfortunately, the tentative truce Cullen had formed with Elsie did not last long. That very afternoon, the war council convened and once again their opposing views on matters clashed head-on. To him, appealing to the Chantry seemed pointless, especially if the remaining clerics were anything like Chancellor Roderick. But the infuriating woman was determined and Cullen was vaguely aware of Cassandra’s words in her letter to him all those weeks ago: ‘She’s almost as stubborn as you are.’

Cullen drummed his fingers on the pommel of his sword at his hip, trying to ignore the pressing headache that had begun slowly but was now battling him, full-force. He was frustrated that he was starting to feel weak and was annoyed at Elsie more than anything. But if arguing with her had taught him one thing, it was that once her mind was set on something, she would see it through: her work in the Hinterlands was proof enough. As she listened to Josephine explain some of the itineraries for her trip to the capital, Elsie tilted her head to the side and he saw those dreadful marks around her neck again, and not for the first time, he wondered what had happened and why she had brushed him off. He tried not to think too much about why he was so concerned with the thought of her being hurt, especially as it was in the past and she was clearly a skilled mage in combat, from the little he had seen.

Cassandra caught him staring at Elsie and his face heated with embarrassment. She shook her head, mistaking his actions. Probably telling me not to pick a fight with the Herald , he thought.

A wave of exhaustion overcame him, and he felt like all of his willpower had been purged out of him. He shuffled from foot to foot to try and wake up, and to bring sensation back to his legs, but even concentrating on the effort to do so was enough to make him feel the fatigue take a fresh hold of him again. Carefully, so as not to draw attention to himself, Cullen laid his papers down on the table and took a steadying breath, hating how his hands shook.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he looked up to see Cassandra watching him with thinly veiled concern. He shook his head slowly, the world spinning as he did so, and the room fell silent as all of the women stopped talking to look at him.

“Commander?” the Herald said. “Are you alright?” Her voice was sincere in her concern and much kinder than he rightly deserved.

“I’ll ah, I’ll be fine in a moment,” he managed, as even forming words in his mouth was tough.

“Perhaps now would be a good tie to adjourn for the day,” Leliana said smoothly. “We can continue the preparations for your journey tomorrow morning before you leave in the afternoon.”

Cullen shot a brief but grateful look to the spymaster, who barely inclined her head.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. It has been a long day,” Elsie conceded, still looking at him, a slight frown on her face.

As they gathered up their papers and went to leave the war room, Elsie lingered, as if waiting to speak with him. Not now , he thought wearily as he winced at the sudden shot of pain in his head, like a weight pressing behind his eyes. His unlikely saviour came in the form of Josephine who blocked Elsie’s line of sight.

“Come Lady Herald; let us take tea in my office. I would love to hear more of your life in Ostwick,” she said, looping her arm with Elsie’s, and thus steering her out of the war room.

Reluctantly, Elsie left with Josephine, but not before throwing him another look over her shoulder, before the door closed softly. Once alone, Cullen took a couple of steps backwards and sunk into one of the cushioned chairs, throwing his head back. He closed his eyes, grateful of the calm and oddly peaceful darkness.

He must’ve fallen asleep almost instantly because when he came to, he was aware of two things: one, that his neck was awfully stiff from sleeping upright; and two, that he was not alone.

The Herald was perched on the war table, watching him. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of everything from his dishevelled state to her long, unbound hair and their fairly close proximity. If he reached out, he would’ve been able to touch her knee.

“You talk in your sleep, you know,” she said, breaking the silence.

Cullen cleared his throat and rubbed his neck. “Do I?” he mumbled, knowing full well that he did. He was all too aware of the intimacy of the situation and had no clue as to why a woman who appeared to resent him was calmly sat so close to him, alone.

He coughed again and forced himself to stand, grateful that his migraine had vanished. “I thought you were having tea with Josephine,” he remembered, his voice low and hoarse from sleep.

She shrugged casually. “I did. But that was four hours ago. So I popped in to get some reports - for bedtime reading you see - and what do I find? A burly commander sleeping like a baby and talking in his sleep,” she teased with a small smile.

He said nothing and moved to stand next to her, picking up his own neglected reports. She slid off the table gracefully and leaned back, resting her elbows on the wood.

“Look, Commander… Cullen,” she said quietly, and he jolted as she said his name. It was the first time, so he looked down at her in surprise. “I… I wanted to apologise. I’ve been a right pain in everyone’s backsides and I… need to do better - to be better - especially with you.”

“Why me?” he asked slowly.

Elsie sighed and shook her head, her chestnut hair falling around her face.”Don’t make me say it, Commander,”

His heart thudded in his chest as he waited. Surely she doesn’t feel something too? He dared to hope. It was then he noticed how his hand on the table was perilously close to her elbow and as she looked up at him, he couldn’t help but glance down at her pink lips which looked so, so soft. It would take little effort for him to lean down and-

“You’re a templar,” she continued. “Or you were, and I’ve been unfair and judgemental.”

Cullen closed his eyes briefly. Of course , he thought. It’s just you having another ridiculous infatuation!

“Although, I’m sure you’ve been doing the same to me - what my being a mage and a noble,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I thought you were apologising?” he said flatly, but the corners of his mouth tugged into a faint smile.

She glared at him then smiled in return. “Very funny, Commander.”

“Well then, it seems I owe you an apology also,” he admitted. “I promised myself I would not jump to conclusions and judge mages unfairly as I have in the past. I need to do better too.”

Elsie opened her mouth to say something, perhaps about his previous interaction with mages, but she pressed her lips together and decided better of it. Instead, she pushed off the table and turned to face him, holding her hand out for him to shake.

“To not being our stereotypes?” she offered.

There was no sign of mockery, no teasing, no jibes, just honesty. He placed his hand in hers and shook it firmly, relishing the feel of her hand in his, even though they were gloved. “To not being our stereotypes,” he agreed, indulgently holding her hand a moment longer than was proper; but if Elsie noticed she didn’t say anything.

She picked up her notes and helped him gather his reports and they left the war room together, walking in a comfortable silence through the quiet Chantry. It felt like a weight had been lifted and he felt invigorated as they walked amicable, side-by-side. As they approached the large Chantry doors, raised voices could be heard and they looked at one another in alarm before pushing them open.

In the courtyard outside there was a commotion taking place between two clear groups: templars and mages were faced off against each other and Cullen could feel the thrum of magic as the mages summoned spells at the ready to attack or defend as the templars gripped their swords. Cullen stared at his fellow templars with unconcealed disappointment and out of the corner of his eye, saw Elsie with a similar look at the mages.

“So much for the stereotypes,” she muttered, so only he could hear.

“Enough of this!” he shouted, making both groups jump and turn their attention to him.

“These apostates were-”

“That templar- ”

“ENOUGH,” he bellowed, holding a hand in the air. “We are not part of any Circle or the Chantry here. We are all part of the Inquisition.” He crossed his arms and stared them all down, daring them to say otherwise.

“What about you and the Herald?” a voice Cullen couldn’t place called out.

He glanced at Elsie who met his gaze levelly.

“Speak plainly and we will answer,” she said, her hands on her hips.

A young mage stepped forward, defiant. “Are you his charge, Herald? Does he watch over you?”

Yes I watch her , he thought, but not for the reasons you think .

“I am nobody’s charge but my own,” she said hotly. “And neither are you.”

There was a murmuring before another voice shouted: “But we’ve heard you don’t get along! Why should we comply when you don’t?”

“The Herald is not my charge,” Cullen said vehemently. “She is my…” he hesitated. “Friend.”

Her eyebrows shot up and Cullen looked around at the crowd, refusing to meet her eye. If he did, he knew his face would heat up and someone would guess his ill-conceived infatuation.

“It’s true the Commander and I have not always seen eye-to-eye and I doubt we will agree on everything but look at us here and now: standing together before you as equals, as allies, as friends .” she spread her hands. “We all have much bigger problems to deal with than this. If Cullen and I can set aside our differences to work together for the greater good, then for the love of Andraste, so can you.”

The crowd murmured around them with many heads nodding, whilst some still looked unconvinced.

“It will take time,” Cullen said calmly.”But it is not beyond the realms of possibility to be civil and work together.”

He was going to say more, but a man jostling through the crowd made him stop and cross his arms. “Back to your duties, everyone,” he ordered, and the groups willingly dispersed as Chancellor Roderick strode up to them.

“A rousing speech, for a heretical mage and templar,” he sneered.

Elsie stiffened. “I thought you had gone to Val Royeaux to seek my execution or something of the like.”

Anger licked at Cullen’s gut. “Haven’t you done enough already, Chancellor ? Leave the Inquisition on peace, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Is that a threat ?”

“It could be,” Elsie said darkly and Cullen felt a pull of magic and spotted sparks of fire in her clenched fists.

“You dare threaten me ?” he cried incredulously. “And you , you templar - can’t you do a better job at keeping your mage under control?”

Elsie hissed between her teeth but didn’t move. “You just don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

“My thoughts exactly. Chancellor , perhaps you had better talk with Seeker Cassandra or Sister Leliana before either of us do something we might regret.”

“I wouldn’t regret it,” Elsie murmured.

“Nor I,” he breathed.

Chancellor Roderick flailed and opened his mouth like a fish out of water, gasping for air, before throwing his hands up in frustration and storming between them. He spun on his heel at the Chantry doors and pointed a finger at them. “You’ve not heard the last of this,” he spat, before slamming the Chantry doors behind him.

“If only it were,” Cullen deadpanned, and Elsie snorted.

“At least that is one thing we can agree on.”

“What’s that?”

“Our mutual dislike of that man,” she smirked and his chest tightened.

Suddenly, he wanted to kiss her: to leave her breathless and see if tasting her mouth would be enough to sate him, and put an end to the temptation. But she had shown no sign of having any thoughts of that inclination, so he cleared his throat.

“Shall I escort you back to your cabin?” he offered.

“Ohh, an escort? Is this because we are friends ,” she teased, falling into step beside him.

He rolled his eyes. “I… forgive me if I misspoke, but-”

“No, no, it’s quite alright. I think I would like us to be friends if we can.” He tried not to look too pleased with her words but he was all too aware that if Elsie looked at him, she would catch him with a silly grin on his face.

“It would make sense to know more about each other if we are working together. I already know about half of Josephine’s family history,” she continued as they walked, their boots crunching in the freshly fallen snow on the path.

“Well, what would you like to know?” he asked.”Perhaps you’ll find we have more in common than our mutual hatred of Chancellor Roderick.”

She chuckled. “You see, that’s one thing I am learning about you already - that you have a darkly sarcastic sense of humour, quite similar to my own. I never would’ve guessed it.”

He shook his head sadly. “My secret is out, Maker help me,” which earned him another trickle of laughter that was light and musical. He adored it. Andraste, if I can make her smile and laugh and be her friend, then I can be content with that...can’t I?

As he bade farewell to her outside of her cabin, he walked slowly away, shuffling around the thoughts in my head. I will have to be content, he thought. As this will feeling will never be reciprocated.

<- PREVIOUS CHAPTER

[holidayblindspot]

Season of Hate/Season of Love (part 1)

Written by RAnsomedR0gue for the Blindspot in a Winter Wonderland event. Part 2 will be posted on December 9th!

***

Remi is nervous.

Which is new to her, something she doesn’t like it at all. She wasn’t nervous on combat missions, assassinations. She wasn’t even nervous about erasing her memory, having her entire body tattooed.

But this. Christmas Eve date day with Weller. She’s extremely tense, admonishes herself for not having pre-emptively killed him to get her out of this situation.

Though she has to admit the chocolate banana crepes he made for brunch were, in themselves, almost enough incentive to let him live. Even if he’s now dragged her to a holistic spa for a day of relaxing and pampering.

At first she thought he was just dropping her off, giving her some alone time. But she should have known better. Weller has no concept of wanting space from his wife. And has endless ways of surprising Remi, despite all the research she’d done into his life before handing herself over to him.

Surprise of the hour, their couple’s spa date. Who would have thought the surly special agent would be into therapeutic massage, eucalyptus steamrooms, hot baths. She doesn’t know why it makes her so anxious, she’s been playing his wife for months now. And despite his recovery and her illness there haven’t been enough viable excuses to abolish sex from their relationship. That, and Weller can be particularly convincing, has insider knowledge on how to turn her on physically.

So, he’s seen her naked plenty of times, she’s gotten used to it even. At least here they’re both wearing swim suits, were given fluffy robes too. Still, spending the day in hot pools and then getting massages together sounds intimidating to her. Extremely exposed, much too intimate.

Remi sighs, knows she’s delayed too long already. She walks out of the changing room into the crisp outdoor air, sees that snow has started to coat everything in white. Begrudgingly she thinks how magical everything looks, how inviting the steam of the pools is.

She spots Weller already soaking by a bubbling jet of water, following her possessively with his eyes even though she’s still wrapped up in her robe. It almost makes her smile, seeing how much he appreciates her. Even if she is only wearing his wife’s skin, wants to hate him. His love is overwhelming at times, makes her forget it isn’t meant for her.

Remi takes off her robe, hangs it on a hook. She can sense Weller gaping at her, allows herself a satisfied smile when she turns around and he looks completely star struck.

It doesn’t seem to matter to him that she’s lost muscle due to an increase in her symptoms, less time and energy to work out. It annoys her that she feels the need to measure up to Jane’s high standards, that she’s the one who went through SEAL training but Jane ended up with the impeccable fitness reputation at the FBI. Especially now, with her body rapidly failing her. Remi feels on edge about losing her most prized asset, her physical abilities. Hates that she’s more skinny than strong, that she feels vulnerable without her clothes on. Body image has never been a problem for her before. But that was before all the tattoos, a defective body, a stranger for a husband.

Weller himself though, he’s not the problem. The look in his eyes when he rakes them over her never changes from pure adoration. It’s almost difficult to be revered that much but she can’t deny its appeal. She certainly doesn’t have to worry about her ‘husband’ having a roving eye when it’s constantly glued to her.

Right now though his intense scrutiny is making her anxious as Remi enters the pool slowly, adjusts to the heat of the water before stepping her way over towards him.

“You’re staring,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes. “I know,” he replies, with a self-satisfied grin.

She should hate it, how possessive he is of her. It makes everything harder, is a constant source of annoyance. But that look on his face, as if awestruck by his good fortune. It’s hard to remember she’s not supposed to want it, that is is absolutely not endearing how much he adores her.

“I can’t help it. You are just so damn beautiful,” Weller continues.

Shit. It’s not meant to feel so good when he says things like that. She’s supposed to be inwardly repulsed while outwardly responding just enough to play her mark. She should only want him to think that she’s attractive so she has a way to manipulate him. Not because it tints her in warmth, because it actually makes her feel beautiful.

Remi feels another genuine smile escape, tries to hide it by ducking her head away as she floats over. But then she’s there beside him, sitting closer than she means to and he brings his hand up to her jaw, runs his thumb over her cheekbone. Turns her head towards him, so she can’t avoid the intense blue of his gaze.

“You know that right?” he asks quietly.

She knows it’s not a rhetorical question from his solemn tone, the sincerity of his eyes. Weller is incredibly easy to read when it comes to Jane, has no ability to be subtle about his wife. And right now he is pouring his heart into convincing her that her failing body is still attractive, that he thinks she’s perfect. Because he senses that she’s lost confidence in how she looks, is determined to fix it by showering her in love and compliments.

No wonder it’s a constant shitshow disaster trying not to love him back.

“Yes, Kurt,” she sighs, struggling not to betray how much his comment really means.

But then he wipes his thumb over her cheek once more, tilts her chin up and kisses her sweetly, pulling back just as more urgency begins to develop.

“Good,” he replies. “Because sometimes I think you forget. But I remember every time I look at you.”

He’s so corny she wants to groan in his face. Remi tells herself she would have already done it without a speck of regret if it wasn’t for her Jane act. But instead she shakes her head at him, doesn’t bother fighting the smile that comes to her lips.

“You didn’t tell me that Christmas makes you so sentimental,” she admonishes, trying to deflect an onrush of emotion.

“Hmmm. I guess Christmas makes me sentimental,” Kurt admits with a shrug, followed by another soft kiss.

Shit, Remi thinks. It’s only early afternoon on Christmas Eve. She doesn’t think she can take another day and a half of Weller being adorable.

***

Weller has never been a big Christmas person, a result of a disappointing childhood. He was always nervous about the holidays, wanting to make it fun and ‘normal’ for his little sister so she didn’t realize all the things wrong with their lives. Certainly, since the age of ten, he’s never thought of Christmas as a joyous time. The holiday season only pointed out all that he didn’t have, highlighted all his perceived flaws.

He feels much the same about Christmas and his wife, their whirlwind relationship having sabotaged the holidays every year he’s known her. Which he takes upon himself as a personal failure, just one of his many regrets.

Her first Christmas was spent in a CIA black site being tortured by Jake Keaton. Her second she was on the run and he was too miserable to even enjoy Bethany’s first Christmas. Her third was just after he confessed about Avery and she left him again.

Now this year she’s sick and it’s breaking his heart. Kurt refuses to believe this could be her last one and yet he has to prepare just in case. It’s been making him extremely anxious, desperate to make things perfect for her. Especially because she’s been so closed off since he came out of the coma, even harder to crack than usual.

He understands it’s just her own way, that it’s his inclination too. To hide the hurt and the fear, to hunker down within instead of reaching out. Because talking about it makes it all too real, exposes everything. But it kills him that she won’t confide in him, makes his worry levels shoot through the roof.

Weller knows he has no control over it, isn’t even upset with her. Jane’s determined spirit, her tendency to want to take things on alone, it’s part of her and he loves all of her. He’s just angry at the circumstances that gave her a fatal disease, furious that he can’t do more to solve all of her problems, relieve her stress, take care of his wife.

So instead of stewing in his endless frustration, he’d thrown himself fully into one thing he could control. Giving her the best Christmas ever, to make up for all the terrible ones in their past.

However now, sitting in a hot pool, watching his gorgeous wife walk over and unrobe, Kurt has to admit this part of the plan is a bit self-serving. Even if his purported goal is to make her feel as beautiful as she is, despite her illness. He can tell she’s not satisfied with her own body lately, has noticed her frowning at herself in the mirror, exercising even when her energy levels aren’t up to it.

Of course it hasn’t changed how he feels about her, to him she’s as stunning as ever. He stares wide-eyed as Jane slowly enters the pool and walks over to him. There’s snow in her hair, sparkly flakes on her eyelashes. She looks like a fierce winter nymph, all fresh and deadly. Weller knows that he’s gaping, does nothing to try to stop it. She overwhelms his senses in the best possible way.

“You’re staring,” she grumbles, rolls her eyes at him dramatically.

“I know,” he replies, grinning broadly. “I can’t help it. You are just so damn beautiful.”

Jane lets a smile slip through, tries to tilt her head so he can’t see it as she sits beside him. He’s not fooled though, he can tell she’s still unsure of herself, isn’t entirely convinced. Which is not okay with him at all, needs to be immediately remedied.

He reaches his hand up to her jaw, runs his wet thumb over her cheek.

“You know that right?” he asks quietly.

Jane doesn’t avoid his eyes this time, looks at him and shakes her head fondly.

“Yes, Kurt,” she sighs.

He’d promised himself he’d be restrained, that he was not going to turn a day all about Jane into his own desire of making out with her in a hot tub. Still, he can’t help it as he wipes his thumb over her cheek once more, tilts her chin up and kisses her softly. Though he does somehow manage to pull back just as things get a little heated.

“Good,” he replies. “Because sometimes I think you forget. But I remember every time I see you.”

So often with Jane he finds himself voicing very un-Weller-like things. Sappy emotional stuff that should make him flinch just to think about. Yet he constantly wants to say these things to her, to make her smile, to make her groan, to let her know exactly how he feels about her.

“You didn’t tell me that Christmas makes you so sentimental,” she mutters, though he can tell she’s only pretending to be annoyed.

“Hmmm. I guess Christmas makes me sentimental,” he shrugs, even though it’s really Jane that makes him feel this way. He can’t exactly admit that though, not when she already thinks he’s being overly expressive.

Kurt pulls her in for one more kiss before tempering his longing and letting go. Reminds himself it’s not about his needs, that it’s Jane’s day and she hasn’t been as comfortable with physical affection lately. She still sometimes uses it as a tool to distract him, end disagreements. But she’s also more resistant to his advances, holds herself away. Which he hopes is just Jane trying to shield him from her illness, a result of her recent body image issues. Not a sign that she’s detaching from him, doesn’t enjoy the feeling of his touch anymore.

She stays at a distance for awhile, he can see her mind stirring. He’s learned not to take it too personally, her new need for space. As much as he wants to fix everything for her, he can’t control how she feels about being sick, how she deals with the spectre of death. All he can do is be there for her when she allows it, swallow his hurt when she doesn’t.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Kurt asks, wonders what he did to upset her. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up how she looks, put that in her mind. Or she didn’t want to be kissed, touched by him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he continues, worry starting to collect in his spine.

Good one, Weller, he thinks. Way to screw it up less than ten minutes into a date he had wanted to make perfect.

Jane exhales audibly then finally looks up at him, her expression in between worlds. He’s had a hard time reading her since she was diagnosed, which just terrifies him more, makes him feel like he’s losing her already. At the moment she looks to be battling herself, resisting some inner inclination.

Just as he thinks she’s about to push him away, possibly run from the pool, Jane lets a smidgen of a smile through, bites the lower corner of her lip in that way that absolutely slays him.

“I’m not upset,” she confesses as she scoots over and reaches her arms around his neck, buries herself into his chest.

Weller wraps himself around his wife, utterly shocked in the best way possible. He relishes in the invitation to touch her, runs twin lines up her back and neck with his hands and feels her shiver despite the heat of the water.

When Jane looks up again, she’s wearing an expression he hasn’t seen since before they found out about the ZIP poisoning. One he thought he might never see again.

This time she pulls herself up towards him, kisses him with more passion than appropriate in a public pool. Not that he’s opposed to it, would break his personal code of conduct for this kind of encouragement from Jane anytime.

Kurt responds eagerly, has desperately missed this kind of heat from her. Even when he gently coaxes her into sex these days she’s holding something back, some piece of herself. Now though, it’s all of her, this woman that means everything to him.

When they finally pause for a breath, he tries to tamp down his arousal, remind himself where he is. Jane does not help though when she gazes at him intently, the green of her eyes lit with pleasure.

“You make me feel so good, Kurt,” she says sincerely, with an openness that’s been absent for so long.

His chest floods with warmth, absolute joy.

Kurt Weller can disarm bombs, stop terrorist attacks. Arrest murderers, save innocent lives. But this is what brings him the most fulfilment. Showering his wife with love, making her feel beautiful and appreciated on Christmas Eve.

[pickybearcub]

Getting to know Spiderboy: Chapter 15

Pairing: Peter Parker x OC (platonic) Genre: Friendship/ Adventure/ Family Story summary: Ten minutes. Ten minutes was all it took. She found his backpack in the alley and left before he got there. Now, before Peter knows it, Ned thinks he has a secret girlfriend and Spiderman has to be her kibble runner.

Chapter warnings: Flash is still a jerk. Cuteness and fluff near the end. A/N: Made some art for this chapter (will post later). GIFs not mine, story dividers by @whimsicalrogers​

Catch up here

Ned: Liz invited me and Peter to a party at her house!

Nadia was a little surprised. Why wasn't Peter the one texting her this? A thought later and she chuckled. The teenager was probably still freaking out slightly.

Nadia: You know, I'm actually going there tonight too. Liz ordered some cupcakes for her party.

Ned: Oooh! What kind?

Nadia: That's a surprise. :)

She typed out the text and sent it to Ned before getting back to wiping down a few tables. Her phone buzzed again, but she finished cleaning up and headed to the back room of the café before she took out her phone again to read the text.

Peter: You're going to Liz's party? I thought you agreed to swap patrols today?

Nadia: I told Ned I'm delivering cupcakes.

Nadia: Don't worry, I'll be long gone before you even get there.

Peter: Oh, ok.

Nadia: It's going to be a party full of high schoolers. Why would I stay?

Nadia chuckled before shooting one last text to Peter and getting back to work.

Nadia: Have fun. You deserve to relax after dealing with Ned the whole day. And talk to Liz!

Nadia: The cupcakes are one of the recipes we made for the bake sale. I give you permission to share it. ;)

Nadia prepped the cupcakes and tied the boxes together, three in each hand. She pulled up a Google street view of the address she was given on her phone. Since the party was in the suburbs, she could easily open a portal somewhere she wouldn't be noticed. The sun was just beginning to set when she arrived at the house. Knocking on the door, Nadia was greeted by the smiling face of a short blonde-haired girl.

"Hi!" The girl chirped.

"Hey. I'm Nadia Capelli and I brought over some cupcakes for Liz Allan." Nadia replied, holding up the boxes in her hands.

"Oh! Here, let me help you with that!" The blonde hastily took one set, before stepping back and calling over her shoulder, "Liz! The cupcakes are here!"

Nadia noticed that a few other students had already arrived and were loitering around the living room, hallway, and backyard.

There was a bit of shuffling before the familiar face of Peter's crush popped out from where Nadia assumed the kitchen was. "Nadia!" The younger girl smiled and rushed to the doorway, taking the second set of boxes from the older girl.

"Come inside! Uhm, the pizza won't get here 'til a bit later, but we have some soda in the kitchen." Liz invited, stepping aside.

Nadia shook her head and gave an apologetic smile. "Oh no. I couldn't. Besides, I'd be a bit out of place with all of you kids." She chuckled.

"You make it sound like you're fifty." Liz laughed. "You can't be that much older than us, Nadia. Aren't you eighteen? Nineteen maybe?" She guessed.

"Older, actually." Nadia grinned. Liz looked a bit surprised.

"Really?" She shrugged. "I swear you don't look like it. Anyway, how much do I owe you again?" She asked while reaching a hand into her pocket. Her brow furrowed before she turned around. "Betty! Is my purse in the kitchen?"

"Hey, actually," Nadia called Liz's attention. "Just give the payment to Peter. He can hand it to me tomorrow or I can get it from his aunt." She held out a piece of paper listing the prices of the different muffins and the total bill.

The girl seemed a bit unsure, "I'm not really sure if he's coming to the party, though. He's been a bit busy lately with his Stark internship. Ned mentioned he was thinking of quitting the school band too." The same blonde girl from earlier appeared behind Liz, holding a purse. Betty gave Liz her bag and took the boxes of cupcakes in exchange.

"Really? I didn't know." Nadia frowned. One of the reasons she'd agreed to take turns going on patrol was so that Peter wouldn't feel the need to quit his extra-curricular school activities.

"You seem really close to Peter," Liz said casually as she pulled some bills from her wallet.

"Hmmm?" Nadia was pulled from her thoughts. She smiled fondly after a second. "Yeah. He deals with me badgering him into running a few errands every once in a while. He's sweet."

Liz paused while she counted the money before she handed it to the older girl with a smile. "I think it's nice he has someone else other than his aunt watching over him. He mentions you a lot during decathlon practice. That's how I remembered the cupcakes you sold during the bake sale a few months back. Thankfully, my mom still had your card."

Nadia nodded, "I think both he and Ned try to talk me up a little too much hoping they'll probably get a batch of free pastries in return." Both girls chuckled. "Thanks again for ordering from me. Just shoot me a text again if you ever want to buy some cookies or brownies too." With that, Nadia waved and started down the driveway. "Have a good party!"

"Thanks! And take care!" Liz waved back before going back inside. She left the front door open because a few more of her friends from school were walking up the driveway.

"Who was the college girl?" Flash Thompson asked from the doorway of the kitchen as he poured himself some soda. "She was pretty."

Liz rolled her eyes slightly. "Peter and Ned's friend."

He almost choked on his coke. "Y-You mean she's Parker's babysitter?" He shook his head before saying disdainfully, "That's totally unfair."

Liz sighed and ignored Flash, pulling another pack of plastic cups from a cabinet.

Peter's nerves only grew worse as they drove up to the house in the suburbs. He would rather be training with Nadia or going on a split patrol with her rather than be here. Music was playing loudly in the background, lights were flashing from inside the house, and a lot of people were milling around.

"This was a mistake. Hey, let's just go home." He pleaded with May, but then she started lecturing, and he jumped out of the car not really wanting to hear more of how he was "flowering". He cringed at the word.

He felt like a hypocrite when he used to tell Nadia that she had a responsibility when it came to using her powers, yet here he was with his suit under his clothes. All for the sake of popularity.

His resolve to just be plain Peter Parker during the party was wavering, but he slowly conceded to his fate when May drove away and they walked up the path to the house. Seeing Liz made another part of him made him rethink the decision and maybe just show up for a bit as his vigilante self. However, the thought of how disappointed Nadia would be really bothered him.

Peter began to argue with Ned about "spidering it up".

Whatever resolve he had to just be himself that night crumbled to dust when Flash called him that stupid name and started spewing taunts from the DJ booth, loud enough for everyone, even the neighbors, to hear.

Before he knew it, he was on the rooftop of Liz's house, practicing what he would say when he showed up as Spider-man.

"God this is stupid…" Peter muttered to himself, running a hand over his face. "What am I doing?" He looked down at the living room, where Ned was looking around, waiting for him.

 Responsibility.

Using the suit as a party trick was the absolute opposite of that word.

Happy already didn't take him seriously. If he found out, and he definitely would with all the social media, that he made an appearance at a party as Spider-man, it definitely wouldn't help his case.

And Nadia… Peter wouldn't be able to face her. She was always understanding of him, but she would still be disappointed. Peter didn't want that. She was one of the only people who treated him like he could handle himself.

He was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when an abrupt explosion caught his attention.

"The hell?..." He wondered to himself, pulling on his mask. He was just starting out to the site of the blast when his phone started ringing, Nadia's teasing face on the screen.

::Hey, Peter… I know you're at a party, but-::

"I saw it." He huffed as he ran across a sprawling lawn of grass, the sprinklers going off. "I'm on my way to check it out."

::You're on your way?:: There was a pause before Nadia came to a conclusion. :: You had your suit with you… Why would you?…:: She trailed off, suspicion in her tone. :: Nevermind… The priority is recon right now. That blast looked powerful, be careful. I'm also on my way.::

-----

Nadia had conjured a portal based on her best estimations of where she'd seen the blast. Luckily, the explosion left a hum of energy in the air that she could track. The second blast that crackled through the air helped too.

She had hoped that her choice of location to wait for the arms deal to happen was closer to the actual site.  That was the catch with knowing things. You knew general plot, but not exact times or locations for a lot of things.

She did her best to get to the site of the explosions as quick as possible, but when she got there, Peter was already getting dragged off by a van that seemed to be filled with weapons.

Thank the gods she'd practiced racing with Peter, otherwise, she would have been completely left behind. Chasing was not really something she was adept at.

"Spider-man!" She called after him as he was dragged down the street, cringing every time he crashed into something.

The vigilante looked to the side and saw glimpses of Nadia sprinting and portalling after him every few seconds.

She'd tire herself out quickly if she kept it up.

When a man inside the van started shooting at Peter, Nadia narrowed her eyes in determination. Not having enough time to levitate something as she kept following, she conjured a large sphere of magic in one hand before launching it forcefully at the back of the vehicle.

The car jerked roughly, most of the sphere hitting the inside wall, but some magic making contact with the man holding the weapon. It disoriented him enough to make him lose his grip on the alien gun. It tumbled out, onto the street, then into the yard of some house.

Peter continued to collide with trash cans as he was dragged on with the driver of the van steering erratically to try to shake the vigilante off.

It was then that Spider-man slammed forcefully into a small brick structure at the side of the road, forcing him to let go of the line he had connected to the van. When he tried to attach another to the back of the vehicle, the door broke off.

"Great…" he said sarcastically, putting up his arms in frustration.

Nadia appeared beside him immediately, panting slightly. "I can't keep up a chase like this. I'll find a way to get ahead and make a barricade a few streets over."

"Good plan. Okay, I'll take a short cut."

They shared a nod before they quickly went their separate ways, Peter leaping over an iron gate and Nadia once more portalling away.

The young woman had to conjure several more gateways before she put enough distance between her and the van to have enough time to start a barrier spell. The trap was just about ready when she heard Peter yell "Surprise!" as he leapt from the roof of a house. However, his voice was drowned out by the sound of what Nadia could only describe as the roar of engines.

The partially erected wall she was building dissipated as the van drove through it. She watched in horror as Peter was lifted high into the air too quickly for her to do anything but scream.

Peter struggled against the metal grip on his body, panicking at the height he was being carried to. Below him, he could barely make out the sparks of Nadia's magic as she tried to portal after him… Then, he was too far up to distinguish between the lights of the city and the signs of her sorcery.

He couldn't fly. It wasn't a power he had. Even physically enhanced, a fall from this height meant that he would be dead. There was a series of beeps coming from his suit before he was dropped headfirst. A parachute deployed just as he started falling, tangling him in the material as he fell through the air.

Helplessly, he struggled, trying desperately to untangle himself. Panicked yells and panted breaths left his mouth.

He saw glimpses of the sky, the surrounding city, the blackness of water below him. He thought he saw wild flashes of green over the lake before the parachute blinded him again.

There was some relief in his mind that he would land in water, but a part of him knew that falling from over a thousand feet high, even into water, was like landing on solid concrete.

A warmth suddenly enveloped him, accompanied by a bright green glow that lasted a few seconds. His freefall seemed to slow. The next split-second, he hit something solid, though nothing close to what he expected.

He felt his body being re-positioned in the air before there was a loud splash and he was surrounded by cold and darkness.

The plunge into the water was a shock. He struggled again to free himself from the material of the parachute, however, the task was a thousand times harder under water. Helplessness was beginning to flood him as he continued to sink.

There was another bright flash of green and for a moment, a sound similar to rushing wind met his ears before he was free of the parachute. The material was ripped to a thousand tiny shreds that were floating in pieces in the water around him. He swiped his hands around frantically to clear his field of vision.

Even though his mind was a bit foggy from the lack of air, he had enough sense in him to grab hold of the white-masked form that was being weighed down by her robes.

He held her arm tightly as they both kicked up towards the surface of the water, desperate for air.

Something dove in after them and the two would have attempted to attack on reflex if they weren't so drained. It took a moment for them to process that it was Iron Man. The hero had the two vigilantes sandwiched together, back to back in its grip as he flew over the water.

Metal hands were secured underneath Peter's armpits and Nadia was behind the teen, arms clinging around Iron Man's neck.

They were set back down on top of a dome-shaped jungle gym in what looked like a children's play area. Nadia immediately huffed and slid down to the ground, lying flat on the grass.

Peter would have panicked again, but Nadia put up one finger and groaned faintly. "Fine. Tired…"

She barely heard Peter recounting what happened, only to find out that he was talking to an empty suit.

:: You should be thanking your little trainee and the fact that this place has WiFi, otherwise, you'd be toast.::

Drifting in and out of semi-consciousness, she caught snippets of the two arguing about taking down the man with the wings, the weapons dealers, and something about college.

The suit turned to Nadia, scanning her. :: Sabrina's vitals are stable, but it looks like she conked out.::

"Wh-What?!" Peter hopped down to the ground and knelt next to where Nadia was splayed on the grass.

:: Mr. Stark is no longer connected.:: A female voice reported.

Peter jumped up, "W-Wait!" he tried as the suit turned and flew off.

His shoulders dropped, "That's awesome…" He grumbled before turning back to Nadia's sleeping form. "H-Hey, Nadia…"

"Mmmm…"

"Are you okay?" He asked, concerned. He pulled off her mask gently, noticing that the right side was cracked.

"Just… just tired." She mumbled, eyes half opening. Peter was glad to see that her hazel orbs were mostly clear.

"Can you stand?"

"Mmmm…" She hummed softly in reply, holding out a hand which the teen used to pull her into a half-sitting position.

"H-Hey, Nadia! S-Stay awake!" He raised his voice when he noticed she was leaning into him with her eyes closed again. She was still soaking wet from their fall into the lake. "We need to get you home." He whispered mostly to himself, noting how she was shivering.

Unlike him, Nadia didn't have a heater in her robes. He shook her shoulder, relieved to see that it seemed to wake her up for the moment. "Can you conjure a portal?" She nodded tiredly.

It took longer than usual and the portals sparked out twice, but the third one was stable. Stevie was barking from her living room on the other side. Peter pulled Nadia's arm over his shoulder when she didn't make a move to stand on her own.

"I can walk…" The young woman complained, though her eyes were barely open.

"Sure you can." Peter chuckled, walking slowly through the gateway, grass turning into soft carpet. It was a good thing Nadia's apartment was somewhat warm compared to the playground.

"Couch… you need to get back." She ordered as firmly as she could, feeling exhausted.

He did as directed and set her down on the sofa. The teen looked at her a bit worriedly as she leaned her head back on the couch, sighing deeply.

"Just exhausted. Swear… Few minutes…" She made a rolling motion with her hand. "Go…"

"I will, but…" He walked to her bedroom first, then her bathroom, coming back with one of her oversized shirts, flannel pants, and a large towel. He draped the shirt and pants on the back of the couch and the towel on Nadia's head, ruffling the cloth to absorb the water in her wet hair.

"Peeeeeterrr…" She slurred, putting her own hand on the towel and looking up at him with her eyebrows furrowed. "I can do it..."

He shook his head and continued drying her damp locks. Nadia gave up grumbling and just let him do as he wanted. After a minute, he stopped, pulling down part of the towel to around her shoulders. There was a pause, and they were both still. "Thanks… For-for you know… for catching me." 

Nadia only smiled softly and nodded.

"Any time. Now, I can do it." She repeated her earlier statement. "Go…" She swatted at his arm and weakly kicked the side of his leg toward the still-open portal.

Peter put his hands up in surrender, taking a few steps back. "Stevie, make sure she dries off, okay boy?" The dog barked before jumping onto the couch and nudging his mistress with his nose and paws until she sat up. Her posture was incredibly slouched, but she still managed to glare at Peter. The heat of it was dampened by her drowned look and the fluffy purple towel wrapped around her head and shoulders.

Satisfied, Peter waved, smiling, and walked back through the portal.

---

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[its-flicked-switch]

When Fox Met Dana

What will happen when Mulder runs into a tearful and more scantily dressed Scully on the outskirts of D.C. on a Friday night? 

Early MSR. Set early to mid-season 3.

Rating: Teen and Up

This story was originally written for The X-Files Secret Santa Fanfic Exchange back in December as a gift for @viceversawrites. Prompt: Someone feels insecure about something. 

I’m in the process of getting all of my current works posted on Tumblr, but should you be interested in viewing a comprehensive list, visit my AO3 profile.  

Once every couple of months, Mulder humors his mother and meets her for dinner. He feels guilty for putting her off as much as he does, especially with Samantha and his father gone, but the guilt he feels following every cancelation always wains in the aftermath of what always turns out to be a torturously long conversation about any and all things non-consequential — gardening, real-estate, and wine tastings … meaningful conversations of merit always monopolized and downgraded to match her level of comfort with little thought given to what he wished or wished not to discuss.

Sadly, this is what he has come to expect from his mother.

The only difference being that dinner tonight started with a lecture. His mother usually reserves those for when the food arrives, but tonight he made the mistake of underestimating traffic. That in combination with the parking being particularly egregious resulted in him being 20 minutes late to a dinner that he had already canceled on three separate occasions. Admittedly, this had not been the best way to start off the evening.

He had anticipated her being irritated when he arrived but had not expected her to be quite so crass.

"It's no wonder I don't have any grandchildren. You should never keep a lady waiting, Fox. It's poor form, even for you. I raised you better," she said to him by way of greeting.

He had known then that it was going to be a long evening but still did his best to bite his tongue, nod, smile, and comment appropriately in all the right places.

When the time finally came for them to part ways, he walked her to her car, opened her door, and kissed her on the cheek as he bid her goodbye. She offered to drop him off at his car, but he declined, opting instead to take advantage of the cool evening air. Her words from earlier still echoing in his mind.

"The work you do is dangerous Fox, and there's no need for it. I have yet to understand why you refuse to take the path so generously laid out in front of you. You went to Oxford for Christ's sake."

Following his father's death, conversations pertaining to his future have come up more and more frequently. She doesn't get it. She never has and likely never will. People handle grief in different ways. Mulder has always wanted answers. His mother, on the other hand, has only ever wanted to forget.

As he watches her pull off onto the side street and drive away, he cannot help but feel relieved that it is over, which in turn, makes him feel guilty. As much as she grades on his nerves, she is still his mother, and a son shouldn't avoid and dread seeing his own mother. Especially when she is all he has left.

Walking down the street with his hands buried deep in his pockets, he is so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn't notice the woman hastily exiting the building alongside him until it's too late to avoid her.

Despite being caught off guard, he somehow manages to get his hands out of his pockets in time to steady her before she loses her balance.

"Shit," he exclaims.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you … Are you—"

When the woman turns to face him more directly, he's immediately stunned into silence.

"Scully?"

As he looks her over to ensure that she is unharmed, he immediately becomes acutely aware of two things.

One, she has been crying.

Two, her breasts are much larger than he thought they were.

Trying not to focus too much on the latter of the two observations, he shifts his focus to her bloodshot eyes and smeared makeup.

"Scully … what are you—What's wrong? Are you OK," he asks, struggling to find words.

The surprise of her sudden appearance in combination with the shock of seeing her dressed for a night out has nearly rendered him speechless, making the interaction all that much more awkward.

She makes a noise that he quickly identifies as being one of annoyance as she takes a step back and ties her coat more tightly around her body in an attempt to cover up and downplay the revealing dress she is wearing, but it's too late. While he may have refrained from staring, he certainly noticed.

"I'm fine," she says, but her tone, body language, and reluctance to meet his eyes suggest that she is anything but.

"You don't look fine," he says cautiously, unsure of how wise it will be to draw attention to fact that her makeup is smeared. "Where is your car?"

Her eyes roam the length of the street and sidewalk as if she's looking for someone.

"I didn't drive. I've called a cab."

"A cab? To take you home? That's going to cost at least 40 bucks from here, if not more … Common, my car is just down the—"

"Mulder it's fine I—"

"Dana?"

The man comes out of nowhere.

Mulder starts to move aside until he sees the look on Scully's face. He's not sure what has transpired between the two of them, but it's quite clear that this piece of shit, whoever he is, is the reason for Scully's swift and tearful exit and that's all he needs to know.

Situating himself to stand slightly in front of her, Mulder gives the man a pointed glance.

"She's leaving."

"Oh, and who might you be," the man asks running his hands through his hair in what appears to be an attempt to calm himself. His rolled up sleeves and partially undone buttons give him an air of casualness that his body language does not portray.

"Fox Mulder. I'm her partner, and she'll be leaving with me."

To his surprise, Scully does not object.

Although the man is clearly perturbed and a bit flustered, he doesn't make a scene. Instead, he walks away shaking his head and mumbling under his breath as he makes his way back into the building.

"Scully, what did he do," Mulder asks, turning to face her.

"It's nothing Mulder. I just want to go home."

He wants to argue with her because clearly whatever happened was a far cry from nothing.

Dana Scully making a tearful exit and hailing a 40 dollar cab is the exact opposite of nothing, but the uneasiness radiating off of her keeps him from pressing her any further, at least for the time being. Because if there is one that is abundantly clear, it's how uncomfortable and embarrassed she is by the fact that he happened upon what has clearly been an unsuccessful romantic evening.

The fact that she has not mentioned seeing anyone actually surprises him. Scully has always made it a point to set boundaries and tell him when he is interfering with her life outside of work, which makes the situation he has happened upon all that much more curious.

Although it's not necessarily any of his business, the fact that she exited a private, high-end building filled with condominiums makes him a bit uneasy.

Leaving a restaurant under duress is one thing, leaving private residence is another. One does not have to be a profiler to come up with any number of troubling scenarios as to why a woman would leave a man's residence in tears.

"What are you doing on the outskirts of D.C. on a Friday night Mulder," she asks breaking their silence as they reach his car.

"Having a very uncomfortable dinner with my mother. I would like to say that she was in rare form tonight, but that would be a lie."

Despite her state of duress, she manages to snort back a laugh as she waits for him to unlock the doors.

"Sounds like we are both batting a thousand tonight then."

"Why Scully, did you just make a baseball referenced joke?"

Although he's not looking at her directly, he can sense her soft smile in the darkness of his car.

Turning up the heat, he pulls out of the parking lot thankful that he has least managed to get a smile out of her.

Just as he is mulling over what to say next to break the ice, he hears a rumble.

"Scully … was that your stomach?"

Sighing and shifting uncomfortably she confirms what he already suspects.

"I left before we ate."

"Wow. That bad huh?"

"Yes. That bad."

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. Thank you for driving me. I know it's a bit out of your way."

Knowing now what he needs to do, he changes his course, turning onto the next side street and looping back around.

"Mulder what are you—"

"I know I can be an ass sometimes, but I'm not taking my partner home with an empty stomach and makeup smeared all over her face from crying."

"Mulder, I would really prefer to just—"

"Greek or Italian?"

"Mulder …"

"Greek … or Italian?"

Letting out an exasperated huff of air, she relents.

"Italian."

When they enter the restaurant, Scully immediately excuses herself and disappears into the bathroom.

Unsure of what she will want to eat or drink, he orders them both water and waits. Just when he is about to check to make sure that she hasn't bailed on him and called a cab, she reappears.

"Sorry … I needed to freshen up a bit."

"I'm just glad you didn't bail on me and call a cab," he says with a chuckle.

"Fortunately for you, I'm too hungry to bail," she replies.

Her tone is serious, but there is an edge of playfulness to it that he appreciates.

In the two years that they have been partnered, they have seen and experienced a lot together. They may not always see eye to eye, but he would like to think that they have grown closer. He has certainly grown to respect and appreciate her, and he would like to think that she has done the same — at least on some level.

"I wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you …"

"Have you ever been here before," she asks as she begins the flip through the menu.

"Nope. First time."

"Hmmm …"

"Wine?"

After he asks, he internally winces as he recognizes the potential implications of his question.

You wine and dine dates, not partners.

Based on her expression, she has undoubtedly come to the same conclusion. Fortunately, she doesn't appear to be offended. If she is, she has at least had the grace to hide it well.

"No. I'm good."

She has yet to remove her coat, and he has a pretty good idea as to why.

Although he did not get the opportunity to fully appreciate what she was wearing when he bumped into her earlier, he saw enough to get a general idea. The plunging neckline she is sporting is much more risqué than anything he has ever seen her wear before. The black sheer-like material clung to her tightly in some areas while hanging loosely in others, revealing her curves quite nicely.

Scully has apparently been hiding quite a bit in those loose fitting pantsuits. While he has always made it a point to remain respectful, he is still a man. He still sees her — all of her.

When the bread arrives he cannot help but chuckle at the look of pure elation that crosses her features. The basket barely hits the table before she grabs a piece and places it on her plate. It occurs to him that it's quite possible that she has not eaten since lunch, and it's well past 8:00 now.

Braving a more serious conversation, he tries again to get her to open up to him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Sighing, she stops chewing for a minute and looks up to meet his eyes.

"Not really."

Mulder is not hungry, but he grabs a piece of bread to keep her from feeling guilty about eating all of it. He has apparently done a poor job of hiding his disappointment at her reluctance to open up to him because within a few seconds she is taking a deep breath and speaking again.

"A friend set us up. We've been out a few times and have always had a good time, so when he offered to cook me dinner, I accepted."

Nodding, Mulder waits for her to continue.

"But he apparently had more than dinner in mind tonight."

"Did he touch you," Mulder asks before he can stop himself.

It's a highly personal question, but the mere thought of someone touching her without her consent makes his blood boil, especially in light of her abduction and everything else she has been through this year.

The wave of protectiveness and fury he initially felt, however, dissipates quickly and is replaced by guilt as he watches her struggle to determine just how much she is going to disclose. He's clearly made her uncomfortable by asking her something so specific.

"He … He was just … very forward."

"I take it that you asked him to stop?"

She doesn't reply with words, but she doesn't have to. The pointed glance she offers him is enough.

"I take it that he didn't?"

"Mulder … I really don't want to talk about it. I left. I won't be seeing him again. End of story."

He wants to press her for details, but more than anything he just wants the pummel Mr. Run-My-Hands-Through-My-Hair Causal.

Reining in his fury, he keeps his voice as level as possible.

"Well, order whatever you want. Tonight is on me."

"Mulder, that's not necessary."

"I'll give you a call the next time I have dinner with my mother, and you can buy me a couple of drinks."

"Hmmm … that bad huh?"

"Yes. That bad."

"I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry. It's just the way things are."

When the waiter returns, Scully orders chicken tortellini. Mulder, on the other hand, settles for a small salad, not because he is hungry, but because he does not want her to feel uncomfortable eating alone.

"Are you still cold," he asks, trying desperately to keep his voice casual and passive.

He knows he is playing with fire, but the discomfort she is displaying is almost comical. It's clear from the redness in her cheeks that she has more than warmed up since their arrival. In fact, she appears to be uncomfortably warm. Her coat remaining on has absolutely nothing to do with the temperature in the room and they both know it.

Giving him a pointed look of warning, she returns her attention to her bread, picking at it nervously.

While he would certainly enjoy teasing her about this under more normal circumstances, he doubts that tonight is the time to push the envelope. On some level, he can understand why she is reluctant to remove it. He has never seen her in anything remotely revealing. She has always made it point to dress professionally and modestly for work — excessively so, and given what she has clearly been hiding under those loosely fitting pantsuits, he cannot say that he blames her.

Being a female in a male-dominated field is undoubtedly challenging. Although she could clearly use her sex appeal to turn heads and get a leg up, she doesn't. It is one of the many things that he has always respected and appreciated about her. Scully is a woman of integrity. She is a professional, which is why running into her on the street dressed so scantly had come as such a surprise.

"If you're worried about what I'll think about the dress, I've already seen it and happen to approve. There's no need for you to be uncomfortably warm on my account."

Taking a sip of water, she studies his face. Looking for a punchline or some sign that he is being anything other than genuine. When she appears to find whatever it is that she's looking for, she sighs.

"This is not something that I would normally wear … Melissa picked it out … She was ... always on my case about being too uptight. I bought it a year ago, but this is the first time I've worn it … It just felt like it was time to wear it." she confesses.

The mere mention of her sister's name provokes an emotional response that is quickly swallowed away when she reaches for the ties of her coat. Shifting in her seat, she lets it fall off of her shoulders and into the seat behind her.

Mulder had intended to make her more comfortable by encouraging her to make herself more comfortable, but so far removing her coat has only served to make them both more uncomfortable. Fighting to keep his eyes level with hers, he gives her an encouraging smile and takes another piece of bread. He has always thought that she was an attractive woman, but tonight she's not just attractive — she's beautiful … stunningly so.

Her hair, which is typically only curled lightly at the ends, is styled with larger curls, giving it more of a wavy flow that makes it look a good one to two inches shorter. Although he isn't sure if her makeup is darker due to her earlier tears or if she has intentionally crafted it that way, he likes it. The smokey darkness makes the color of her eyes look several shades lighter, giving them a glow that would make the shallows of the Caribbean envious.

"You're staring," she says, raising her brow.

He wants to tell her what he really thinks of date-night-Scully, but thinks better of it, choosing instead words that are more becoming of a partner speaking to a partner.

"I'm sorry … It's just … You look really nice Scully."

Silence falls between them when the salads arrive, but the blush in her cheeks remains as they each busy themselves with utensils and the task of pouring their dressing.

Mulder starts to worry that even nice had crossed a line when she begins to fidget and play with her food.

"Mulder … do you think that I gave him the wrong idea by wearing this," she asks quietly.

God. Surely she did not think that she had asked for whatever had happened between them. He certainly hopes that whatever look crossed his face as he watched her remove her coat did not add to whatever convictions she previously held.

"Scully, what you wear, revealing or not, does not give anyone the right to make assumptions. I have little doubt that he appreciated your … ensemble …," he says choosing his words carefully as he runs his eyes over her, "but appreciating and touching are two entirely different things."

"I just …"

"Look. I don't know what happened. I can imagine, but ultimately, it doesn't matter, because whatever it was … if it's not something you wanted then he had no right — period."

"I was just … I was just trying to loosen up a bit. My abduction and … Melissa … have each caused me looking at things a bit differently than I did before. I enjoy the work we do. I wouldn't trade it to go back to medicine, but that doesn't mean that I don't recognize that there is more to life than working. I just … wanted to try."

"There's nothing wrong with that Scully."

"But tonight made me realize that maybe working all the time isn't all that bad after all."

Now Mulder really wants to know exactly what happened, but he has asked twice already. Would asking a third time make him just as insistent and forceful as the asshole she was with earlier? Probably.

One thing is for certain, that man, whoever he is, better hope that Mulder never sees him again.

"Do you think that I'm frigid?"

She would wait until he had taken a drink of water to ask him that question.

Clearing his throat, he looks across the table at her and studies her for a moment in an attempt to read her. The insecurity and nervousness he sees behind her eyes and in her body language surprises him.

Scully has never crossed him as being someone with underlying insecurities. In the field, she is fearless and relentless, digging in her heels and taking command of each and every space she occupies. But right now, sitting in a fancy restaurant looking as stunning as he has ever seen her — she's unsure of herself.

He wants to tell her that she is absolutely gorgeous.

He wants to tell her that ice cannot scientifically encapsulate fire.

But he says neither of these things, stopping himself short of saying the words — not because he doesn't believe them, but because of what they might imply.

He doesn't want to say anything that would imply that only he sees her in the physical sense. Not to say that he hasn't taken notice in the years that they have worked together, but thinking about it and vocalizing it are two entirely different things. He cherishes their friendship and the last thing he wants to do is say something that would create an awkward tension between them in the future.

Scully has worked hard to build a reputation in man's world, and while her work ethic and professionalism have not gone unnoticed, neither has her physique. Despite the less than flattering pantsuits she wears, she has not gone unnoticed. He sees the longing stares and hears the whispers in the hallways as she sways past, and he knows that she does too.

The last thing he wants is to be misconstrued as being one of those guys.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that," she says nervously.

Dammit. He's been quiet too long.

Snapping out of his rumination, he quickly works to gather his thoughts and put them into words. Giving her a reassuring smile, he tells her what he should have told her earlier.

"No. You didn't. Not really. I just … I don't want to say anything that would offend you or make you uncomfortable, so I was trying to choose my words carefully," he says, studying her expression for a moment before continuing.

"You're a beautiful woman Scully — distractingly so …"

To this she blushes, letting her eyes drift down to her plate.

"Some people can't handle disinterest … it's easier to make the rejection about you than it is to acknowledge that there is nothing alluring about them. Calling you frigid is an out for them … it says nothing about you and everything about them."

Before she can reply the food arrives, but Scully is not looking down at her food, she is looking at him. The intensity of her gaze causes butterflies to form in his stomach and sends shivers down his spine.

She has given him a lot of looks over the past two years, but this one is new.

This look isn't Scully at all — it's Dana.

"Did you pick that up in one of your psychology courses at Oxford," she asks, giving him a soft smile of appreciation as she grabs her fork and begins to eat her pasta.

"Well, I suppose it depends on who you ask. If you ask my mother, my time at Oxford was wasted, given that I'm working for the federal government and not raking in millions with the silver spoon I was given as a child."

"Ah. Was that the topic of tonight's dinner?"

"Among other things."

"Such as?"

"Well, apparently I am incapable of having any type of meaningful relationship since I work constantly and am always late for dinner. She also made a snide comment about giving up on grandchildren that I chose to ignore."

"Ouch."

"And she wonders why I cancel," he says with a laugh.

"I'm sorry that it's like that. I can't imagine not having my mom to talk too."

"I'm used to it."

"That almost makes it worse."

"How's the food," he asks, gesturing to the bowl in front of her in an attempt to drift conversation away from his mother.

"It's really good. Thank you. Thank you for bringing me here."

"Anytime."

The rest of their conversation flows freely. He is actually quite amazed at how at ease he is with her and even more amazed that they have managed to talk for nearly an hour without mentioning any of their active cases. In fact, work hardly comes up at all, which is first. They talk all the time, but never about themselves, their families, or their lives outside of work. It's wonderful. He cannot remember the last time he enjoyed himself so immensely.

After she finishes eating, he picks up the tab and escorts her out the car, this time opening the door for her.

As they get settled into the car and pull out into traffic, she turns to him and studies him as if she seeing him for the first time. Although he's not looking at her, he can feel the intensity of her gaze.

"Thank you again for tonight. It was … nice," she says finally after a few moments of silence.

"I enjoyed it too. I think we both needed to get a bad taste out of our mouth."

As soon as he says it, he inwardly cringes at his word choice.

Smooth Mulder, he thinks.

"Yeah," she says quietly.

"I'm sorry Scully, that was a poor word choice … I didn't mean it—"

"I know you didn't. It's fine."

The ease and weightlessness of their earlier conversation disappears. It's as if a spell has been broken, and he feels absolutely terrible. He's about to resort to turning on the radio when she begins to speak.

"He … He kissed me, which was ok at first … but when I tried to pull back to cool things off a bit he kept pushing … to the point where I slapped him. I've never slapped a man before, but I slapped him."

Until this very moment, Mulder had not realized how much the visual of another man having his hands on Scully actually bothered him — more than bothered him. The mere thought of it steals his grip on the wheel to the point of whitening his knuckles. Although she still has not specifically told him what exactly he did, he knows it had to have been rather egregious for her to resort to slapping him.

The idea that anyone would disrespect her in that way, pushing her boundaries to point the where she felt like she had to physically attack them to make them stop, makes his blood boil.

"I immediately felt bad for hitting him. I think he was just as shocked as I was that I did."

"Scully—"

"Then he got mad … really mad. Said that he had heard that I was frigid, but never imagined that I would be frozen … I made my exit shortly after that."

"Sounds to me like he got exactly what he deserved."

To this, she says nothing, clearly still uncomfortable with the fact that she resorted to striking him.

"Name? Date of birth? Social security number?"

Cutting her eyes at him, she snorts and then relaxes her head back against the headrest.

"Trust me. He's not worth it."

"No, but you are."

Although it's dark and his eyes are predominately on the road, he can see her head turn in his peripheral vision. First to study him and then to look away, suddenly finding something very interesting along with a route that she travels almost daily.

Fearing he has already said too much, he refrains from making any further comment.

When they reach her apartment, he pulls into an open spot and moves to get out when she places her hand over his and stops him.

"Did you mean what you said earlier?"

Mulder isn't sure if she's referring to his comment about her being worth the effort or the fact that he referred to her has being distractingly beautiful, but since the answer would be the same either way, he doesn't bother to ask her for clarification.

"I meant everything I said."

Nodding, she shifts uncomfortably, removing her hand from his and placing it in her lap.

"It's just … no-one has ever really said anything like that to me, not in that context anyway."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"There has … always been an agenda," she says, refusing to meet his eyes.

He can only assume that she is referring to intimacy. Is it really possible that there has never been a figure in her life that told her that she was absolutely stunning? Has every guy she has ever been with actually been that shallow? Only appreciating her body in the biblical sense?

"Men can be assholes. I would know."

To this, she laughs … genuinely laughs.

"You're not an asshole Mulder. Well, at least not most of the time. Only when you are ditching me, ignoring hard science, and disregarding protocols that could put us both out of a job."

"All in a day's work."

Snorting, she shakes her head from side to side and looks up to meet his eyes.

"I'll walk you up," he says, reaching for her hand and giving a squeeze. He walks around the car with a purpose, intending to open her door for her, but by the time he reaches the other side, she has already gotten out.

Mulder half expects her to insist that she is fine and to bid him farewell on the street, but to his surprise she says nothing, walking alongside him in silence as he opens the door to her building.

When they reach her door, Mulder feels a twinge of nervousness. It's just them. Mulder and Scully, yet it's not. He can tell that she feels it too by the way she shifts nervously on her feet as she digs for her keys.

"Would you like to come in," she offers.

Swallowing the lump in this throat, he politely declines.

"No, I should go, it's late, and I promised the gunmen I would meet them for an early breakfast."

"Conspiracy theories?"

"Always," he says with a smile.

"Ok … Well. Thanks again for tonight. It was nice."

"Yes. It was."

For a moment they both just stand there, gazing into each other's eyes.

"Well. I guess I'll see you Monday," she says finally, putting her key in the lock and turning it.

"Yeah."

He starts to walk away, but stops himself short, turning back to face her and catching her before she makes it fully inside.

"Scully?"

"Yeah."

Moving to stand directly in front of her, he reaches for her hand and takes it in his.

"Never let someone treat you any less than what you are worth."

Although she's fighting it, he can see the tears working to form in her eyes.

"And what might that be," she asks quietly.

"Whatever it is … I can't afford it."

Giving her a gentle smile he raises her hand to his lips, kisses it, and then turns to walk away.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah."

"You might could if you tried."

With that, she gives him a soft, appreciative smile and then disappears behind her door, leaving him to stand in the hallway with a slack jaw.

Come Monday, neither of them speaks of their impromptu date.

Little do they know that years later, they will each refer to this night as being a pivot point in their relationship — a time where she first saw Fox, and he first saw Dana.

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The French Connection - Chapter 7

A HardyxMiller AU

Ellie Miller is left to go on her honeymoon alone after a devastating secret about her fiance comes to light - halfway through the wedding ceremony.  Sitting in St Pancras International in London waiting for her train, she runs into none other than her uni rival/best friend Alec Hardy, on the run from his own recent heartbreak.

They decide to make use of Ellie’s pre-paid trip, rekindling their friendship and escaping real life; yet, it turns out their years at uni are the hardest to outrun. Based on this prompt from @timepetalscollective  

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday and Sunday.  Beta’d by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma

Masterlist  |  AO3

---

“Hard to believe this is our last day in Paris,” Hardy noted, handing her a glass of wine before sitting down next to her.  “This trip has flown by.”

Ellie accepted the glass gratefully, taking a fortifying sip before agreeing.  “It really has.  Everything before running into you feels like ancient history, not a week.  To think-” she cut herself off, realizing that she didn’t want to talk about her almost-marriage with Hardy.  Though it had felt forced at the beginning, to ignore the elephant in the room, now it felt natural – almost out of place.

She didn’t want to talk about her past, but rather, she was considering her future and what she wanted.

Who she wanted.

She took another large gulp.  It’s just the wine and romantic sunset Seine riverboat cruise talking, she tried to convince herself.

“Anyway…” Hardy drawled, eyeing her curiously, “if nothing else, we’ve certainly gotten some distance from our troubles.”

“That’s for sure.”  Stretching her legs out in front of her, Ellie watched the setting sun play over the steel frame of the Eiffel Tower, captivated by the fiery glow.  “Thank you, really, for coming with me.”

He stayed silent for long enough that she didn’t expect a response, so she startled when he spoke.

“You probably don’t know this- I don’t know how you would as I didn’t tell anyone other than my professors- but a few weeks before the end of the fall term our last year, my mother got sick.”

Ellie’s stomach dropped, not having expected that.  “I’m sorry- what was wrong?”

“Cancer- everywhere, but it had started in her breast, near as they could tell.  By the time it was caught, it had…” Stretching his long legs out in front of him, he leaned back slightly on the bench to stare up at the darkening night sky.  “Well, at that point I dropped everything to return home to try to… keep her comfortable.  It only took ten days, then another week for the funeral and wrapping up her affairs, not that she had anything significant.  That… that’s why I missed the presentation.  The day she was diagnosed and I left to go to her was the night we were supposed to meet.”

Ellie’s breath caught, eyes widening.  She knew the night he was talking about; she’d spent hours in the library waiting for him, only he never showed.  She’d spent a good portion of that time cursing him and complaining (mostly to the empty study room she’d reserved), and now felt horrible about it.  “I had no idea,” she whispered, wincing in mortification at how she’d gone off the next time she’d seen him – which had been after the presentation.  “Oh, Hardy.  I’m so sorry.”

“Anyway,” he continued without acknowledging her, “I muddled through the last week or two of the semester, then went home and cried my way through the holidays.  That’s why I was so much worse after classes resumed – I’d just spent a month listening to my father complain about how selfish my mother’d been to go off and die and leave him alone.  He didn’t care that she’d died, only that she wasn’t there to play servant for him.”

“And I was a total bitch to you about it,” she moaned, grimacing.  “I didn’t have a clue, I thought you were just being… eccentric or something.  Fuck, I’m sorry, Alec, really.”  His first name slipped out, entirely on instinct, and it would’ve felt strange if she wasn’t so heartbroken for him.  “I don’t know what to say.”

He turned his head to face her, smiling softly.  “I’m fine,” he promised.  “And you couldn’t have known, because I didn’t tell you.  But you helped me anyway.”

Ellie snorted, angrily wiping away a stray tear.  “Oh, sure I did,” she snarked.  “By- by- by bullying you?  Constantly harassing you about things?  Competition?  Yes, I can see how that would be helpful.”

“Miller,” he sighed, an oddly affectionate inflection to her name that only served to make her lower lip tremble.  “Believe it or not, yes.  Spending time with you, competing with you as you put it… it all felt normal.  It was the only thing that did at the time.  My mother was just… gone.  The only family I had, really, in the sentimental people-who-love-you sense.  But bickering with you over test answers and working on projects… I could forget it, at least for a little while.  It kept me out of my own head.”

She twisted her lips, unsure of how to take that.  On the one hand she was glad to have been a comfort, even an unknowing one, but on the other, she felt absolutely rotten over how she’d treated him.  “I wish you’d trusted me,” she said, voice low, “and told me.  I could’ve helped, somehow.  I’m sorry you felt the need to struggle alone.”

“Of course I trust you.  There’s no one else on this Earth I trust more,” he shrugged, before wincing.  “That sounds a bit sad, but it’s true.  I didn’t exactly have many friends in my department on the best day, and now most have sided with my ex and her other bloke.  My father’s gone, not that he was ever worth a damn.  There’s acquaintances I’ve built a decent working relationship with, but… there’s no one who has shown me the same level of kindness you do.”  He grimaced again. “That still sounds awful.  Perhaps my point is- there’s no one else I’d rather be on holiday with.”

“It does sound pathetic,” Ellie agreed after a moment, making him roll his eyes.  “But… I know what you mean.  I… don’t have anyone either.  I do have a few decent mates, but no one I even remotely considered asking to come along.  The best friend I do have has a toddler, and so I barely see her, and when we do it’s all about Chloe- her daughter.  I mean, she’s absolutely precious and I adore her, I’m her godmother, but still…”

A server appeared then with a bottle of wine, and without a word both thrust their glasses towards him, waiting until he’d filled both and moved on to turn back to each other somewhat awkwardly, the moment lost.

“Well,” Hardy lifted his glass towards her, “here’s to us- the sorriest pair I’ve ever met.”

Laughing, Ellie clinked her glass against hers.  “Hear, hear.”

And, sipping at the ruby liquid, she realized that despite the epithet, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so hopeful.

-

They stumbled into the hotel bar arm in arm, still laughing at how the self-righteous holier-than-thou cow on the cruise had been so bloody anxious to be first off the boat and not have to wait for anyone she’d almost gone for an unexpected swim in the Seine when the boat moved unexpectedly as she’d clambered off.

“The way her arms were windmilling though!” Ellie howled, the copious wine not helping her regain her landlegs.  “Did you hear how she screamed?”

“I thought her husband was going to jump in, he was so embarrassed by her,” Hardy sniggered in response, his arm a solid weight around her waist helping keep her steady.  “And I don’t blame him- I’d have arrested her for disturbing the peace or something if I could’ve.  No question that she was overserved.”

They found a booth in the back corner, a horseshoe-shaped one that let them sit together, and Ellie didn’t think twice about sitting snugly against Hardy’s side.  “It’s cold in here,” she shivered for emphasis, smiling brightly when he rolled his eyes and removed his sport coat to drape it around her shoulders.  “Oh, thank you,” she gushed, batting her eyelashes at him.  “You’re too kind.”

“More like I know better than to get you mad when you’re drunk,” he smirked, stretching his arm along the top of the seatback.  “More wine, or something else?”

“Hmmm…”  Ellie reached for the drinks menu, humming idly to herself as she flipped the pages.  “What’re you having?”

“I’ll have whatever you have.”

“Oooh, whiskey!”

“No.”

“Hardy!”

“Miller!”

When glaring didn’t work she pouted, sticking out her lower lip.  “But why not?” she whined.  “I like it, and you’re Scottish.  You’re legally obligated to drink it.”

“Because whiskey makes you aggressive,” he smirked, shaking his head.  “Remember?  You had a double at Morgan Anderson’s, and single-handedly caused the party to get raided.  At Easter.  I had to do some very fast talking to keep what’s-her-name from pressing charges.”

“Margaret Finnegan,” Ellie sniffed, “and she was being a bitch.  We were clearly in the middle of a conversation!  She’s lucky that was all I did.”

She didn’t appreciate the amused curl to his lips, or the light in his eyes.  “Right,” he agreed, his tone mocking.  “You merely pushed her, and pulled her hair, and took a swing at her.  She got off easy.”

“Stop making fun.”

“Oh, I’m not,” he chuckled.  “You’re more Glaswegian than I am, I think.”

Ellie scowled, before turning and waving over the waitress.  “More wine, then?”

-

Two bottles later they were well and truly blitzed, and Ellie couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun with someone.  Probably with him, at uni.  The wine had well and truly relaxed her, and the gentle glide of his fingertips along her bicep didn’t hurt.

“What?” Hardy cut himself off to ask, looking at her curiously.  “All right?”

“Why didn’t we stay in touch?” she asked, unaware she’d been thinking about it until the words slipped out.  “After graduation- I never heard from you again.”

He paused, glancing down at his half-full wine glass before draining its contents.  “You were gone when I woke up,” he reminded her with a sigh. “I stopped by your flat later that morning.  You weren’t there but your sister was, and I left a letter for you with her with my contact information.  So I’m not sure how it’s my fault we lost touch.”

Ellie’s head jerked up from where it had been heavily supported by her elbow on the table.  “Wait, what?  You left me a letter?”

“Yeah, with your sister.  Well, she said she was your sister.  And she looked exactly as how you always described her.”

“I never told you what she looked like,” Ellie frowned, mind racing as she tried to remember if Lucy had ever given her a letter.  Maybe it got put in a box and forgotten?  She hadn’t gone through most of her stuff after moving home, and had moved most of them straight into her new house without ever unboxing them.

He snorted.  “You didn’t need to.  It was obvious from her personality.”

“Well, I never got it, not that I’m particularly surprised.  Though you could’ve called me; I’d already given you that information,” she reminded him.

“I’m no good with that,” Hardy said gently.  “And I figured… if you wanted to get in touch, you would.  That maybe I had ruined everything with… what happened.”

Ellie laughed at that.  “I wouldn’t say that,” she said coyly, the wine giving her courage.  “I thought… ‘what happened’… was actually pretty nice.”  She shifted in her seat, leaning slightly closer to him and grinning.

“Then why did you leave?”

“I was late for brunch with my family.  Wasn’t exactly by choice.  And when I went to see you later, you were already gone.”

Hardy licked his lips nervously, drawing her gaze as her imagination went into overdrive.  “So… it wasn’t out of regret?”

Heat pooled in her lower belly, eyes widening slightly as she realized, distantly, what would inevitably happen if this conversation continued.

“Decidedly not.”

He reached out a trembling hand, pushing a loose lock of hair back from her face.  “Glad to hear it,” he rasped, the lower pitch to his voice fanning the flame building inside her.  “I had thought it was… pretty nice too.”

“I suppose it’s like you said, we agreed more often than we knew.”  Is he getting closer?  Her breath caught, anticipation making her skin tingle.  “I wonder if you agree with what I’m thinking right now.”

His arm slipped down around her waist, palm warm against her side, and she was hyperconscious of how they were pressed together from hip to knee.  “Suppose that depends on what you’re thinking.  Can’t read minds, me.”

This is a bad idea, the little voice of reason in the back of her mind whispered.  Bad breakups, remember?  You haven’t seen each other in a decade.

“D’you want to know, though?”  Her hand settled on his knee, and she watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, waiting in nervous anticipation for his reaction.

“You know me, I’m a curious soul,” he murmured, squeezing gently at her waist.

Heart pounding, she let her lips curl as she leaned up and into him, whispering into his ear.

And, just to be sure he understood, she slid her palm up his thigh and over his zip, making his hips jerk up as he gasped.

“Check please!” 

[hannahssimblr]

I've tried to write sims stories in the past but I always end up running out of steam quickly and giving up on them. How to you stick to your consistent weekly schedule? I'm in awe of how you keep putting out full chapters every week

Hello!

Firstly, apologies for leaving this unanswered for a couple of days, i'm very bad at writing back to people when I know the message is going to be very long lol.

I think maybe it comes down to like.. experience or something? I've been writing sims stories since I was 13 and everyone was doing it for sims 2 so I kind of got to know what works and what doesn't work for me, along with how to deal with and build engagement. OBVIOUSLY I am not a professional writer or anything like that, I'm just a lowly hobbyist but here are my tips!

Please plan! I get it, it's boring, but you WILL regret it if you don't. Literally, you can just plan in your head and that can be enough if you're thorough, but before you start you should have an idea of where you will end. If you launch in to chapter one and just write with the ~vibe~ then that's really cool, but you might find yourself out of ideas, or unsure what the theme of your story is by chapter five. You want to avoid getting overwhelmed and giving up.

Choose a theme and stick with it. Make sure you keep coming back to that theme and following the thread. Try not to deviate and start talking about side characters back stories, because while it's very fun to do, you'll quickly realise that you've created something that feels a little... disorganized, and then likely stop writing. (BTW! Side character stuff is fun! But you can explore that outside of your main story, in tumblr posts or in a little "extras" section on your blog if you want to!)

Stay ahead. I go back and change chapters constantly. It's so normal to write something and think it's fine, and then while writing a later chapter realise that the story would be better if you changed what you've written a couple of weeks ago, so give yourself the space to do that. Once the chapter is published, it is out of your hands. Currently I am 6 chapters ahead (Very manic) but i recommend having a healthy cushion of about 3. Don't post that first chapter until you're up to ch 4.

It's normal to care about what people think, but don't let it rattle you. Your story should be for you, and your should stick to your convictions even if others make noise or disagree. If you're trying to please everyone you will quickly burn out and lose interest, so don't be swayed by what others want you to write! Releasing chapters week by week like this is an interesting way to do it, as it allows people to view your work in segments rather than a whole finished piece. It's easy to be swayed off course by people's comments and think "hmmm maybe that person is right, I should change this.... DON'T, GIRL. Stick to your plan. Unless obviously, they have a point...

You need to stick it out. The first weeks or months of a story are the hardest because you can often feel as though you're writing into a void. I've noticed that an audience takes a long time to form, but don't take it as a reflection on you or your story. Most people quit writing their stories after less than 5 chapters, so people might not even click on your links until your past that point to avoid the risk of getting invested in something that will be abandoned. It took me a good 3 months to get almost any comments at all on Lucky Girl, and that was fine, because I was ready for it. (I was also prepared to keep going even with minimal engagement, but more often than not, if you build it they will come.)

You have to love it. You have to be genuinely passionate about creating something and telling a story. Everyone has a story to tell, so have conviction in yours. It is worth telling, and it will speak to somebody. Love your characters, get to know them, listen to what they want and don't force them to do or say things that you know they naturally wouldn't. Be obsessed with it and you'll be fine.

No pressure. If a schedule is too much, cut it out. Everyone is different. For me, it works, for others it is too much and they prefer to run on vibes and feelings. I've seen both methods work well.

Tips related to actual sims: people care about your screenshots, make sure that you put a little effort in, but don't burn out creating custom poses, building every lot and creating every background character if that will burn you out. I know I can't do this, so i stick with a style that's easy to uphold, and forgive myself if i can't make everything look exactly right. On my sims 3 story, Dustland Fairytale (SO to those who are still here after all this time!) one of the things that majorly burned me out and made me sick of it was having to build so many lots all the time when all I wanted to do was tell the story. Take advantage of the gallery, use CC and poses by other people, cut corners and focus on the parts that are important

I can't think of anything else! I hope this is helpful <3

[fancydancing]

Virtue Moir - The musical

Let’s take a little musical journey starting with Stay and ending with YRMW. 

I don’t have an objective bone in my body when it comes to this topic, so I let other people do the talking. (I might have only picked comments that fit my narrative, but I’m only human, give me a break!) 

**I put this together very quickly, so please forgive any mistakes**

**Also, it’s very long, but you have to read to the end to get the whole story**

Let’s begin...

Stay - Rihanna

Song meaning according to VM:

“It’s really about this couple who’s madly in love and long for each other, but they keep missing each other and can’t get their timing quite right to make it work in the end.”

And oh yeah, didn’t Scott say that this was their story? Hmmm...

According to anonymous experts on the internet:

I think it is about two people that are completely in love, but are dealing with their own personal battles. He is the one that is "broken" (maybe mental illness), but she was in a place in life that she needed to be saved from emotionally. He is the only one that she feels can help her fill this emptiness she has been living with. He says its not much of a life she's living, and that she never sees the light. Life isn't something you take, it is given. Live it, don't just let it pass you by. He wants her to get out and live and stop being depressed. She needs help being there for him, it is dragging her down, but she loves him and wants to help him get through it. Round and around and around they go... meaning they keep dealing with this same battle over and over and over again trying to help each other, and it doesn't seem to be getting better. All they know, is they need the other and can't get through it alone, but it's a huge struggle trying to keep helping the other and pulling each other up.

**

The two each came into the other's life for some helping reason. They came to realize that they were both in need of help and helping. An unanticipated affection grew for one another. They end up genuinely caring for each other and not just serving themselves. The concept is foreign to them; they are stripped "naked" of pretenses...beyond mental or physical desires...they care for someone outside theirselves. It is a new unadulterated and pure place, and they are trying to understand it.

Into the Mystic  - Van Morrison

Most interpretations say it’s about the end of a long journey and beginning a new path into the unknown. All I know is ST choreographed it themselves in his (or hers?) kitchen.

Anonymous sources say:

“Into the Mystic.... Into the the unknown without fear with your soulmate at your side”

"At the very end Van sings: too late to stop now, suggesting that the song also describes an act of love." 

Good Kisser - Usher

This song left me screaming, “TMI! TMI!” I want to know whose idea it was to skate to this song? And did VM understand what Usher was talking about? Because I really never paid too much attention to the lyrics although I’d heard the rumors. 

And did they perform this IN FRONT OF THEIR PARENTS?? (no pun intended)

That’s all I have to say about this song. 

How Will I Know - Originally by Whitney Houston

I thought this comment summed it up pretty nicely:

“She still is unsure of how he feels, she doesn't know. He hasn't made it clear. Gave her reassurance or made any plans. She's sick of waiting by the phone for nothing to happen. If he wants her in his life hell have to communicate the good ol fashion way. If not than he obviously doesn't. She wants to marry him but if that's never possible she would settle for SPECIAL friends or even just good friends. She just wants to be part of his life and world like she has made him part of. She's giving him another chance and if he doesn't take it soon she can't promise the opp will always be available. He hurt her. She still tried. She wishes he would be comfortable with her as she is with them. They got along great and it was so easy. That's what doesn't make sense to her. There's no need to have fear. She's made her case. Hopefully she'll know sooner than later.”

What's Love Got to Do With It - Originally by Tina Turner

“I think that this song is about a woman who doesn't want to fall in love again with an obviously attractive man due to a bad relationship experience in the past.”

***** “This man is obviously (sexually) very attractive (his touch makes her "pulse react") but for her own "protection" she says to him 'nope sir', a guy won't cause me a "broken heart" (again).” **** “In the refrain she just asks a general question about the value of love at all, she concludes that love in real life is not what it is suppopsed to be according to ones imagination and /or dreams. At first you fall in love with an attractive man but than your heart will be broken (he will cheat or misstreat you). But she also states that she isn't all happy about her beeing reluctant to love because she actually doesn't really want to spend her life alone. "But I have to say... It scares me to feel this way" because even though she has made bad experience in the past, she still has hope that she will find the right one finally. On the other hand it might be interpreted as a song about a woman who uses to have sex with the guys but doesn't wand to start deeper relationships with them because real love can turn out painful. (She likes to have a 'higher pulse rate' but doesn't want to have a 'broken heart'”

***

“As for the meaning of the song,i think it's simply about how the word love is just thrown around in a relationship,without any real thought,I saying you love someone,doesn't mean anything if you continue to hurt them,and the guy in the song is just using the word love to make up for all the hurt,which is just unacceptable to the woman.Now i'm a guy but I agree with this song because I feel that also if a girl hurts a guy and tries to make up for the hurt by using the word love,it's meaningless and unacceptable.”

Sorry - Justin Bieber

Co-writer Julia Michaels:

“I immediately thought back to the time that my boyfriend and I broke up. Three months later he came back to my door and was like, ‘I’m really sorry.’ Everyone can relate to fucking up and asking for mercy.

We were just trying to capture that moment in a relationship or a particular moment in your life where you realize you made a mistake and you’re finally ready to admit it and apologize.”

 Latch - Sam Smith

I’ve already done a song analysis on this:

https://scottandtessasactinglessons.tumblr.com/post/172574202160/music-over-analysis-101-latch-so-im-going-to

Tessa said this:

The whole program wants to show fragility and strength, especially to find strength in fragility, and always have to pay and get in a relationship In the first part of the music, Scott lifts me up and supports me with the body. In second part their relationship becomes complicated, full of struggle, resentment and confusion. But in the end they are happy, free and in love. “We have more specific story line, but we wouldn’t tell about it” said Virtue with a smile. “Then we want to go on and see, how this relationship can unfold. We will work on it with our art director.”

From the internet experts:

“Latch's message is never let go love, of key-to-lock (or latch). The video shows couples who barely met becoming intimate. By just focusing on the instant and choosing couples who can't be that man-to-woman latch-to-key lifelong relationship, the video basically misses the point of the lyrics. The meaning of Disclosure Latch can be found in the keywords "shackle" "wrapped" "locked" or even Latch. The words evoke things that bind two together in an unbreakable union. All of these go tied with the most frequent word in the song: "Never." (21 times!) The love Latch sings about is a love never supposed to end, a lock that will never let go. This is the way love is meant to feel. And the feelings are meant to make us live a commitment of never let go.”

 Come what May - Ewan MacGregor and Nicole Kidman 

This doesn’t really need much analysis. The meaning is pretty obvious. But here’s some expert analysis anyway:

“...but rather it is saying that not matter what other extraneous stuff is going on in their lives, they are saying it doesnt matter, hence "come what may" because they are still going to love each other no matter what else occurs...”

“The song plays an important role in the film. When the forbidden strong and close romantic relationship between Christian and Satine has been discovered, Christian pens this romance song and includes it in the musical he is currently writing. Each time either of them sings this song, they can secretly declare their equally deep and true romantic love for each other.”

Long Time Running - Tragically Hip

It appears that no one really knows how to interpret this song. I read interpretations ranging from it’s a song about divorce and depression to people who are planning to use it at their wedding. 

Now I could go into what I think but it’s already been done beautifully by wishfulwannabee:

“Not only have they both said that they relate to this program and the song mirrors their relationship, but let’s take a look at both the program and the song. If you look at the lyrics, the song is actually quite heartbreaking and follows two people in love who can never seem to find a good way to get together. The lyrics changes from “it’s a grave mistake” to “it’s the same mistake” to “it’s a great mistake”, so obviously the song evolves with the relationship. “We don’t go anywhere, just on trips” hits me bc it’s like they test out the waters of the relationship but it never goes anywhere. It’s honestly a song filled with so many emotions and a messy relationship that wants to be somewhere but stumbles along the way to getting there. Now let’s just briefly talk about the program (which they choreographed themselves btw). For me, it seems that the “characters” are trying to chase after each other. There is never a moment where they both want each other. Whenever one is chasing, the other isn’t looking their way. It seems like there was never a good time for them to both want each other the same way at the same time. Until the end when they come together the way that they started. In unison. On the same page.” 

http://wishfulwannabe.tumblr.com/post/172369040350/ok-but-we-dont-talk-about-tessa-and-scotts-long

Here are some other thoughts from the internet experts:

“Part of what makes The Tragically Hip so unique as artists is that their work appeals on many different levels simultaneously, much like the song “Long Time Running.” It’s a beautiful, gut-wrenching ballad even if you don’t listen to the lyrics. If you pay any passing attention to them, you add a hint of whimsicality to the proceedings. But if you dig deeper, and if you have a background that’s at all rooted in the same influences or spaces that permeate the band’s storytelling, then you’re granted a song that encompasses regret, longing, heartache, and a clever undercurrent of Canadiana and esoteric references.”

***

“I believe this speaks on history. Likely as with everyone there were dark times endured with having to live through a break in relationships in some points in his life. I feel like he had a core feeling long ago he had a path he was meant to follow. Part of path with his huge heart we could see was to help bring ppl together( through music ). In all respects the song is looking so strong to become one of Canada’s treasured love songs about perseverance of various aspects of life in sickness as well as love and or success. And a heartfelt turned gently into a eulogy as well that’s sang with such perfect emotion you can feel the pain exhaustion as well accomplished goal - happy with how you lived out your life.”

You Rock My World - Michael Jackson

The experts say:

“MJ is saying that this girl he loves has a profound positive affect in his life, and sexual satisfaction…and he is willing to give everything he owns to keep her.”

“Michael has finally found someone who makes him feel whole. This girl obviously feels like the missing link he has been waiting for.”

“He goes on to describe a truthful love because this girl is herself. He never wants her to change and he tells her that in these lyrics.”

“Michael never thought he would find a Love like hers that is so uncommon, and he feels lucky and honored to be able to have it.”

And finally, this from a website that was just some random guy ranting about GOD and SEX and SIN and SEX and SPIRITUALITY and SEX and the DEVIL and SEX with a little LUST thrown in for good measure.

“YOU ROCK MY WORLD is marinated in sexual juices from its very beginning. It was conceived in the steamy rock-pop culture of the late Michael Jackson.

So then, THE ORIGINAL AND REAL MEANING of YOU ROCK MY WORLD comes from Michael Jackson being rocked into a SEXUAL FRENZY. You flip me out! You rock my boat. You get it on! You send me over the top! You take me beyond all limitations! You break all barriers! You rock me into rapture! Give it to me! Come on girl!

“I am reminded of the words of Shakespeare:

“LUST IS THE EXPENSE OF THE SPIRIT IN A WASTE OF  

SHAME. IT SQUANDERS THE ENERGIES OF LIFE.”

But this guy might be on to something because he closes with this:

“THAT MAN WHO IS ADDICTED TO SENSUALISM AND

FLESHLY APPETITES WILL HAVE LITTLE

APPETITE FOR THE SPIRITUAL WHICH

IS SEASONED BY  VIRTUE.”

What a perfect way to wrap this little story up!

So to recap:

We’re totally in love, but we keep missing each other and/or we just can't make it work (Stay). 

We’re ending this long journey (competitive skating) and we’re moving into the unknown (separate lives - Into the Mystic). 

Ummm, detour! Usher singing about oral sex! PERFECT! The children in the audience won’t understand! (Good Kisser). 

I love you, but I don’t know how you feel about me. (HWIK). 

I love you, I want to be with you, but I’m afraid of getting hurt. (WLGTDWI). 

I screwed up, I’m sorry, it’ll never happen again (Sorry). 

Yes, we’re scared, but we love each other and we’re going to take a chance and commit to being together (Latch). 

We’re declaring our true, deep romantic and secret love for each other. And no matter what happens, we’ll always be together (Come What May). 

Now, we’re wrapping up our skating career and we’re finally on the same page and our current relationship was worth the wait (Long time running). 

Now, everything is perfect, this is what we’ve been waiting for and yes, the sex is amazing (YRMW)!

Phew!

[cowplant-pizza]

500 Followers Gift!

This time, I wanted to do something a little different than decorating an apartment, so I decided to create a whopping 40 Cats and Dogs for you guys to Adopt! They range from all ages, sizes and personalities! 

You can find each and everyone one of them on my Origin: boeybum. Or, you can download their Tray files from SimFileShare (no adfly) below, linked to their names. 

CC USED: Default Eyes!

If you would like a larger picture, a longer description or to see a kitten/puppy as an adult, please send me an ask! Any questions are welcome!

Please tell me if any links are broken!

So please, if you’re interested in adopting one of these fuzzy friends pictured above, click Keep Reading to find out more about them all! (I apologise for the long post for those of you on mobile. This has been tagged as #long post if you’d like to hide it!)

Welcome to the grand opening of Cowplant-Pizza Adoption Centre! Here are our current residents profiles! (in order, left -> right)

Cats: Kittens:

Nougat - Talkative, Skittish, Fluffy - Mixed Breed

A little bundle of joy for your families! Nougat came to us a few weeks ago, alone and scared. She is very skittish and nervous of new people, but has shown a huge amount of affection once she gets comfortable with you. I recommend Nougat being the only Pet in the family until she regains her confidence! 

Taco - Playful, Spoilt, Frisky - British Shorthair

This little dude is full of life! He is extremely playful and is always finding things to chase. He loves to run and hide, jump and climb. He might be a little bit of a handful, but Taco is a lovely addition to any family. 

Lulu - Affectionate, Playful, Skittish - Mixed Breed

Lulu is a tiny little bundle of love. She wants constant cuddles and is always in the mood to play. She came to us through unfortunate circumstances, leaving her jumpy and nervous to loud noises and other cats. I recommend her being the only cat in the family.

Kia - Skittish, Curious, Frisky - Mixed Breed

Kia was the runt of a litter, so is very skittish when it comes to meeting new people. She dislikes being around peoples feet, so likes to sit up high (often on the fridge!) so she can watch the world go by from a safe spot! She loves to chase mice and investigate new smells.

Mr. Wiggles - Clever, Playful, Affectionate - Mixed Breed

Mr. Wiggles is the embodiment of your dream kitten. He is full of cuddles, play times and even learning tricks! He loves to learn new things, and will be your best friend for life. Be careful where you step, because he’ll always be somewhere close by!

Princess - Affectionate, Spoilt, Prowler - Mixed Breed

Princess acquired her name for a very good reason, because she acts like royalty. Don’t expect her to do anything you tell her to, because she wont! However, just because she’s a bit of a suborn kitty, doesn’t mean she has any less love to give.

Mojo - Glutton, Fluffy, Curious - Mixed Breed

Mojo is a big ball of fluffy cuddles. He loves nothing more than eating! After a big meal, he’ll curl up in your lap for a long nap. But not before long, he’ll either be off investigating a mouse hole, or begging for another bowl of food!

Luna - Clever, Playful, Prowler - Mixed Breed

Luna is a beautiful kitten with shining green eyes, however, she might not sit still long enough for you to admire her! She is a pocket rocket who loves to run, pounce, chase, catch and climb. 

Dakota - Affectionate, Friendly, Playful - Mixed Breed

A tiny ball of love and cuddles, Dakota is the perfect addition to any household, and a best friend for life. Make sure to get plenty of toys, because she will need them to keep occupied when she finally decides to stop pestering you for cuddles.

Adults: 

Tom - Affectionate, Fluffy, Lazy - Mixed Breed 

Tom has been in our care since he was a kitten due to his unusual looks and short tail. However, if you can look past his goofy crossed eyes, he is a best friend to anyone. He’s just waiting for the right person to come along and look past his features and to look into his heart.

Disco - Mischievous, Prowler, Aloof - Mixed Breed

Disco was found a few months ago hunting through our bins behind the shelter. We immediately fell in love with his unusual coat colours. We later found that he has traces of Raccoon in him! Who knows what his mother was up to! He is a very mischievous boy, who is always getting into trouble. But who could stay mad at that face? Not us!

Cinnamon - Spoilt, Lazy, Territorial - Mixed Breed

Cinnamon is definitely the Queen of the shelter. She is always bossing the other cats about, and even sometimes the staff! She loves long naps by the fire while being brushed or stroked. 

Buzz - Aloof, Clever, Mischievous - Sphynx

Buzz is a little troublemaker. He’s always up to something! But don’t take this little bundle of joy as an idiot, because Buzz is the cleverest cat you will ever meet! And in between his plans to take over the world, there’s of course always time for a nap with his mum/dad. 

Precious - Mischievous, Playful, Affectionate - Sphynx

Poor Precious came to us in a terrible state, and has been left sadly blinded through neglect. However she does not let this get to her, and is still on her way to being the criminal mastermind she has always dreamed of being!

Bobby - Fluffy, Lazy, Aloof - Siberian

Bobby is a fat, fluffy, lazy cat. You’ll often find him curled up in places where he really shouldn’t be, eg. washing baskets, beds, your favourite chair. But his favourite place of all is next to you.

Elders: 

Magnus - Affectionate, Friendly, Lazy - Mixed Breed

Magnus is an old chap who was found alone in a back garden. We are unsure of his history, but we can confidently say that he might be the friendliest stray ever if he has been alone his whole life. 

Duchess - Affectionate, Friendly, Lazy - American Shorthair

Duchess is a beautiful cat left to our care after her owner sadly passed away last month. She is very lonely now, and has so much more love to give. Could you give this girl a home for the last few years of her life?

Dyno - Territorial, Prowler, Mischievous - Bombay Cat

Dyno is a grumpy old man in cat form. He hates younger cats and is very protective of his family and home. He loves to hunt birds and mice, and often seems a lot like a kitten. 

Dogs: Puppies:

Cludo - Glutton, Playful, Hairy - Mixed Breed

This little chap is full of energy and full of food! We have never known a puppy eat so much and then want to play for hours straight afterwards. Cludo is very fluffy and loves a good snuggle.

Merlin - Playful, Hunter, Adventurous - Mixed Breed

Merlin is one of those puppies that never sit still! He needs a very active household to take him on many adventurous and to many interesting places. He’s very eager to get out there and to meet the world with his companion! 

Kodey - Adventurous, Active, Loyal - Mixed Breed

Kodey is a funny looking boy with a goofy personality. Perfect for an active owner, Kodey loves long walks and jogs through the forest, fields and beach! But don’t worry, he’ll never run off far, as Kodey will be by your side forever. 

Paris - Clever, Friendly, Hunter - Mixed Breed

A tiny ball of fur and cuddles, Paris is a loving dog looking for a loving home. She is always looking for hugs, kisses and play. She learns tricks very fast and will even go out hunting for you! 

Speckles and Zoey - Active, Jumpy, Friendly. Clever, Playful, Adventurous - Mixed Breed

Speckles and Zoey come as a pair. Twin puppies who were brought to us after an unwanted pregnancy. Speckles is very shy, but has lots of love to give. His confidence definitely shines when around his sister Zoey, who loves to play and run! These two are like chalk and cheese, but they are two peas in a pod.

King - Loyal, Couch Potato, Hairy - Tibetan Mastif

King is the biggest and goofiest puppy you will ever see. He is loving and loyal. However this might become a problem if he continues to think he’s a puppy and tries to lie on your lap every night... 

Adults:

Maddie - Glutton, Playful, Sleuth - Great Pyrenees

Maddie is a huge bundle of love and joy fit for any family. She will smother you (literally) in love and play. But make sure to keep a bowl of food down at all times, because being that big means you have a big appetite! 

Sadie - Clever, Playful, Hairy - Poodle

This girl is the most fashionable Poodle ever. Fit for a well dressed (or not) family, Sadie will bring you years of fun. Be sure to make use of her very clever mind too! This girl might win you a competition or a few! 

Daisy - Playful, Stubborn, Vocal - Havanese

This tiny bundle of fun is quite the handful! I recommend an experienced owner in re homing Daisy. Once you have gotten used to her stubborn attitude, she’ll be your best friend. 

Rosie - Loyal, Couch Potato, Glutton - Rottweiler

Rosie is a big, floppy doggy, who will love you more than anything. Well, maybe she loves naps a little bit more. Hmmm, or maybe her food... But she’s definitely full of love! 

Penny - Clever, Loyal, Aggressive - Poodle

Penny has had a very troubled past, so needs to be the only pet in this family. She has a huge amount of love to give, but is very hesitant with strangers. She needs a lot of support and encouragement. 

Boomer - Couch Potato, Glutton, Hunter - Mixed Breed

Boomer is another one of our blind residents. But don’t let that put you off this goofy bundle of love. His favourite thing in the world is to curl up with you after a long days hunting and eating, and eating some more.

Lilly - Glutton, Troublemaker, Vocal - Lhasa Aspo

Lilly might look small and cute, but she is definitely a lady who can stick up for herself! She loves to get up to no good when your backs turned (normally burring her head into the dog food bag!) And she’ll be certain to let you know when she’s hungry! 

Gunner - Hairy, Active, Independant - Labradoodle

Gunner is a very active boy who needs a family to take him on lots of long walks in new and interesting places. He doesn’t need much love and cuddles, but still appreciates them non the less! 

Spot - Friendly, Active, Stubborn - English Setter

Spot is another one of our dogs that has a lot of energy and needs lots of walks. Expect him to greet everyone he meets with a friendly lick and nudge of the nose. He loves attention, but isn’t too receptive to learning tricks. 

Astrid - Clever, Vocal, Loyal - German Shepherd

An unusually coloured German Shepherd, Astrid makes it known that she is one special lady. She’s extremely clever and will make a brilliant companion to anyone willing to give her the time of day.

Elders:

Joey - Clever, Couch Potato, Loyal - Giant Schnauzer

Joey is an old boy. He has arrived at the Shelter due to his life time best friend passing away. He is full of love, but very lonely here. He obviously misses his owner very much, and we just can't possibly fill that hole. If you have space for a big furry bundle of joy in your life, please consider adopting an older dog. Joey would love a companion to love him for the rest of his days!

Balto - Active, Jumpy, Friendly - Mixed Breed

Balto, an old sledging dog, is looking for a family to spend his final years with, winding down after a life of activity and fun. Don’t let his old age fool you though, as this old guy still needs plenty of play and walks! 

Sasha - Friendly, Couch Potato, Sleuth - Schnoodle

A Queen in her past life, Sasha loves nothing more than to be pampered by a nice warm fire, curled up next to you with the TV on in the background. This old girl doesn’t let age slow her down, and is still desperate to learn everything she can about the world before Grim comes to take her away! 

[pinkrocketimagines]

British Puns and Greasy Hair : Final Chapter

(COLE SPROUSE X READER X TOM HOLLAND)

SUMMARY : (Y/N) finally decides which one she likes better- British puns or Greasy hair.

-

A/N:  I’ve only been on Tumblr for less than a month but it’s crazy how much support and love you’ve all given to my fanfics simply just by reading it- especially this one! I’m so grateful. You guys have made my summer really really productive, trust me! I love you guys so much! Do send me feedback , I just love love love reading your comments you have no idea ! I hope you enjoy reading this one just as much as I enjoyed writing it. So much love xx

-

You woke up to the sound of steady knocks at your door. Since you were in such a deep sleep, at first you thought you were just dreaming but after hearing your name being called out for the next 5 minutes, you realized it was all too real to ignore.

Groaning, you sleepily walked up to the door. The time was 4 am.

“Tom?”

Okay, ever since Tom joined Riverdale he has been disturbing your sleep a lot more than you would’ve liked. I mean, Tom is adorable and you may have a little puppy crush on him but hey, SLEEP is everything.

“Aww,” he chuckles at your sleepy face.

Combing your hair with his rough fingers, he instructs,”It’s a beautiful morning, I’d hate for it go to waste! Put something  on.Let’s go for a walk,”

“NO!” you try to shut your door  but his hand intervenes.” Oh Come on, Tom! It’s 4am. I’ll take the morning walk later,”

“No,” he retorts,”Either you’re coming with me now or I’m carrying you.”

You snicker at the last comment.

“Oh, you take me for a bluff, darling?” he attempts to carry you but you defend yourself. “Fine, fine, fine! Gosh, you’re so bossy sometimes,” you groan.

“You have 5 minutes, darling!”

Ugh, you can’t get mad at him even if you wanted to.

-

You succumbed to an oversized white shirt similar to what Tom was wearing and a cute pair of pastel pink shorts.

“Aw, look who’s stealing my style!”

“It has nothing to do with you, idiot”

“That’s what they always say,”

You roll your eyes. Why does he always have to pick on you?

Tom has his arms around you, as always, as you take a stroll along the coastline.

“This is nice,” you happily comment.

“Who?Me?”

“Not you, idiot. This walk. The island looks heavenly at this hour,”

And most certainly it does! The waves are mild. The birds tweet as they resort to the palm trees, the sand is not coarse and Tom..well, he looks ridiculously cute with his undone hair and his muscles all puffed out.

“Ah, that’s a nice spot!” Tom blurts as he quickly takes you by the hand and runs over to a corner with huge gigantic rocks.

You sit on the sand and lean against the giant rocks for support while Tom does the same. Blissful is the word.

“Come over here,” Tom puts his hand around you and makes you lean over to his shoulder. You’ve noticed how he always likes to get comfortable around you, or maybe with everyone else, you’re not sure.

You try your very best not to let the jitters and the butterflies in your stomach act out as you look over to the most stunning sunrise with Tom by your side.

“(Y/n)?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Did you really love Cole?”

You’re quite surprised at the sudden question about Cole. Although Tom and you has gotten quite close over the pass few weeks, he has never really touched the Cole topic.

“Hmmm,” you try to think of an answer,”I  guess I did. I mean, just because I don’t feel the same way anymore it would be unfair not to validate what I felt when I was, you know, young and completely in love.”

Tom quietly nods at your answer. “(Y/n)?” he calls you again.

“Uh-huh?”

“Do you think you could ever fall in love again?”

You give him an odd look,”Are you in love with me Mr. Holland?” before bursting into laughter.

“Bloody, I was just-“

You quickly get up and start yelling at the shore,”Tommy over here has a huge crush on (Y/n)!!”

“I DO NOT! Get back here, you!”

“Tommy has a huge crush on-“ you start running away from him and yelling at the same time while he chases you.

“Oho, you’re gonna regret that when I catch you,” he threatens as he takes off his shirt, revealing the heavenly body made by God himself, and runs over to you with the biggest grin on his face.

You laugh hysterically as you try to run and tease him at the same time.

“Tommy has a huuugggeee- eek!” you squeak as you feel his strong arms grab you by your waist from behind and swing you around.

“Tom!! Stop,” you try to sound assertive but you can’t control your giddiness as he continues to swing you by the waist.

He finally stops twirling you around, yet not letting go of your hand still.

 “Tom, you evil lit-“

He pulls you closer towards him. The distance between the two being infinitesimally small. You lose your breath for a second there as you realise he’s really shirtless and he’s really close!

“Tom, let me go!” you try not to sound nervous as he brings his face closer to yours.

“I told you you’d regret it,” he says in a low tone as he grabs your hand even tighter.

“T-Tom, I-I”

“Awww, look at this little puppy!” he loudly announces as he lets go of your hand, laughing hysterically at your face,”You should’ve seen your face!”

You hit his arm,”You’re so annoying, I’m leaving!”

You angrily stomp your feet as you walk away from a very amused Tom.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” He calls out.

“What?” you turn angrily.

“Maybe I do have a crush on you,” he winks.

-

Wrapping the second, and the last, day of the shooting in the island was very fulfilling. You had butterflies running in your stomach the entire day since 4am when Tom admitted that he does have the hots for you. He kept passing annoying cheeky comments during the entire shoot which made you pretend to be annoyed, when really you were just falling for this boy even more.

Just like the other night, you’re all gathered around the bonfire. And just like the other night, you’re cuddled next to Cami while Tom sat across you, next to Cole.

“Oh my god, I have an idea!” Cami excitedly yelps.

“What is-“

“Be right back!” she’s too excited for life. She quickly goes inside her hotel room and comes back with small crumbled sheets of paper.

“GUYS!GUYS!” she calls out. “Let’s play a game!”

Everybody quickly becomes silent and pays attention to Cam. “Okay?”

“So I’ve written some questions here in these sheets of paper. One by one, we’ll pick a sheet each and answer, no matter what it asks. Admit defeat and the person to your left gets all the authority to post anything on any of your social media accounts,”

Typical Cami.

The game does sound fun and enlightening but the defeat dare sounds terrible!

“I’m all in!” Tom excitedly agrees.

The rest of you weren’t too sure but Tom and Cami eventually managed to pull you all in.

“Okay, Tom pick one!” Cami instructs.

“What? Why do I have to go first?” Tom complains.

“Because it’s way past your bedtime, Tommy. Answer and go to bed!” you answer him earning yourself plus points for annoying Tom while everybody else laughs at him. “(Y/n), oh how you entice me!”

“So the question I got is, ‘ one word for each person in the circle under 30 seconds’.”

“Go!”

“Okay okay okay, wait,” Tom prepares himself.

“Cole, cool.

KJ, fit.

Lili, girl next door.

(Y/n), darling.

Cami, total bonkers.”

“Whoa, well done!” everybody applauses Tom for his quick response.

You gush at the sound of darling again while Tom secrely winks at you.

“Cole, you’re up next.” Cami instructs.

“Let’s see what we have here,” Cole takes his pick.

“Kiss the prettiest girl in the room,”

“Whoaaa,” everybody cooes. He got a good one!

“Do I really have to do this?” he nervously laughs.

“Or you could hand your phone to Tom,” Lili replies

Cole sighs. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Cole stands up. “Ohhh, he’s going for it!” KJ teases.

He slowly walks up towards Cami. Pauses. Leans over and places a small kiss on your cheek.

Ok, you did not see that one coming.

“WHOAAAA,” everybody cheers Cole as he happily goes back to his seat.

You try to force a smile but you can’t help but notice Tom’s glare. He didn’t look happy. He had an expression on his face which you couldn’t really read.

“Guys,” Tom stands up,”I think I have to call it a night”

Okay, That is so not Tom.

“Everything okay, mate?” KJ asks Tom.

“Ye-yeah, I’m tired. You guys carry on!” Tom blunty answers as he head towards his hotel room.

“Tom, wait!” You go after him. “Are you sure you’re o-okay?” 

I mean, you would’ve just let it go had he not looked so uncomfortable.

“Y-y-eah,” he tries to avoid your gaze as he spits,”I want to be alone, okay?”

“Tom,..” your voice softens as you try to reach out to him but he backs himself.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll see you later,” he hastily says before storming off.

The way he left made you feel some other kind of empty. Why was Tom acting that way? Was it because Cole kissed you? It was only a dare, right? There’s nothing to be mad about..

“Hey, (Y/n), everything okay?” you hear a voice from behind.

You turn around to find Cole himself.

You’re reluctant to answer. You want to tell him everything is okay and move on, but the 4am smile of a certain messy haired Londoner has you shook.

You’ve never been this scared to answer a simple two-worded question, because you know that once you tell him the answer it’ll all  be over. Everything with Cole will be over. Everything that has ever had anything to do with this raven-haired prankster with the amazing sense of humour will be over. Not that this answer has anything to do with Tom..or maybe it does, you’re not too sure.

 It’s like jumping off of a cliff all over again. But this time, you know someone will be there to catch you, and it’s all upto you just who.

You hold your heart together as you gather up all your guts and answer,”Cole, we need to talk.”

He looked frightened. Maybe he already knew what was coming.

You walk slowly towards the boy you once fell so deeply in love with. Although you’ve moved on, you still remember all that you once were.

You take his hand as he quietly watches, unsure of what to do or say.

“Cole, you asked me a question the other night.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Cole, you were the first guy who made me feel loved and sexy and beautiful. I know things weren’t always great but I still remember how things were  and how happy we were,” you take a small pause,”You made me the happiest girl for 2 years and for that I will forever be grateful to you,” you smile up at him lovingly as you hold back the tears in your eyes. You can’t believe you’re doing this. For the first time, you’re putting yourself first.

Cole refuses to look at you as he tightens his grip on your hand.

“But,” you continue,”You broke my heart and I don’t think I could ever look at you without having all the flashbacks of the hell I went through. I still see good in you, trust me, you’ll always be important to me. But everything has changed. And maybe, for the first time, change is good.” You take a deep breath,”So what I’m trying to say is, no. My answer to your question is No. I’m sorry,”

You finally said it.

You thought he would’ve stormed off angrily by now, but he didn’t.

Cole looked up at you lovingly. You could easily tell how hard he was controlling his tears. One thing you knew about Cole, he was not a crier.

He forced a smile as he gently stroked the side of you face like he always used to,”(Y/n), you were the best thing that had ever happened to me and I’m grateful for all the times we shared together,” he turned away, he couldn’t bear to look at you knowing you’ll never be his anymore. “Tom is, Tom is a really lucky guy.”

“Cole, it’s not-“

“Can I atleast have a hug before this night ends?” he adorably questions, trying to lighten up the mood.

You smile weakly as you give him the longest,saddest,tightest hug.

“You have the biggest heart in the world,(Y/n). The biggest,” Cole whispers into your ear as he quickly breaks the hug and walks away.

And there you stood, idle as you watched your first love walk away. There you stood, confused , sad and empty but content.

-

With your heart so heavy and your mind so full, you decided to take a walk along the coastline all by yourself before going to bed. It has gotten quite dark now, the sand is more coarse than it was in the morning, the waves are a lot more rougher but the wind is calm and soothing. You sit yourself near the giant rock which Tom directed to you earlier today.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath as you try to relive the past few weeks. It has been a roller coaster of emotions. Good emotions.

How Tom just popped into your life out of nowhere and changed everything for better, or for worse. Lately, you’ve been drinking a lot of tea..for someone who refuses to have anything other than Lemonade. 

You can’t believe you just said no to the guy you were hopelessly in love with for 2 years. It’s strange how fast things change. Few months back, you couldn’t stand the thought of not being with Cole but here you are.

You smile to yourself as the thought of a cheeky brown-haired guy peeps into your mind. You know he’s not at his best mood now, maybe he’ll be okay in the morning. There’s just something about this guy. Maybe it’s his horrible attempts at making puns or the way he’s ridiculously good at everything, his messy hair or the way he says darling, there’s just something you can’t exactly pin point out but gosh, is there someth-

“(Y/n),” your reverie  gets interrupted by the sound of a very familiar voice.

You get back up and look around to find a messy haired, red-faced, shaken Tom.

“Tom,”

He quickly makes his way towards you and pulls you in for a really tight hug.

“I’m so-“ he tries to apologize.

“Shhh,” you retort silenty, “It’s okay, it’s all okay,” you whisper  as bury your head in his body while his strong, warm arms envelops you.

“(Y/n),” Tom slowly breaks the hug.  “I don’t know what got into me earlier, I-“

You cut him off, “It’s okay, Tom. Really, it’s fine.”

Tom pushes your hair aside to get a full glance of your face.

 “Look,(Y/n), all I know is that I didn’t like the feeling I got when I saw somebody else kiss my girl and I don’t want to have that feeling ever again, it makes me sick, it makes me-“

You cut him off again.

But this time, with a kiss.

You stand on your toes as you try to reach up to him and lay a soft subtle kiss on his lips. Tom quickly lifts you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. He deepens the kiss as wind cautiously blows your hair and the waves take turn to steal glances at their favourite couple.

“Tom,” you try to murmur whilst he’s still busy kissing you.

“Uh-huh,”

“The director said ‘Cut’”

“Wait, what?”

“GOT YOU!” you yelp as you laugh hysterically and run away from him. “Can’t believe you fell for that!”

Tom sighs in disbelief and runs after you as he warnes,”Come here, you! You’re going to regret this, darling.”

So I guess in the end, you did make up your mind.

British Puns and Greasy hair?

Na, just british puns please.

-

General Taglist ~ @xbobaaa  @riverdrew @dandelions-inthewind @ashleyykabob @bernaboredom  @thevioletmarkey @punkrockandchemicalx @acidbabytears @ceruleanjones  @riverdalemami @simbatastisc @caitsymichelle13 @allthelove-marz  @butterybra @margauxthemuse @tcmhollnd @desicookie @calums-band-tee @pinkglitterycactus @laa-rose @moonlight53 @oceantostars @jasmineeee85 @1022bridgetp @peachy-jordyn @prtmnstr @nano-fantasy @theweaknessstories  @castellagreen @louloudeug99 @tear-in-my-heart14  @imstillinlovewithyou  @flopmalum  @mypotronus @hehaditcoming @jugheadjonnes @satansconcubine @julesimba

[menacehaha13-blog]

Warriors of Chaos: The End Begins Who would've known that the end of the world would just be the beginning of a new lifestyle. Dominic Reaper sure didn't. He also doesn't know why he can't have a single minute of peace or relaxation. Only one month after he escapes that state prison and starts to live a life he wants, a top of the line, best of the best military task force has to burst in and kidnap him. Dominic's life has been pretty crazy, well, crazier than normal, here recently. Lots has changed. The world went through a zombie apocalypse. And, the world isn't handling it very well, no. Society has hit a serious downfall. Plus, the downfall received help from Hades and his band of misfit monsters that now roam the earth. But, now Dominic fully believes in Zeus, Hades, Olympus, Underworld, and all the trimmings that come along with them. Before being kidnapped, and besides losing his brother, Dominic has never been happier. Him and his friends can now live anywhere they want, and they can do whatever they want. Now, they can legally have fun taking part in their favorite activities, killing things, blowing shit up, and destroying shit. And, since it's mindless cannibals and mythological monsters they're all killing they don't feel bad about it. Now, back to being kidnapped, Dominic slowly regains consciousness. Dominic doesn't open his eyes though, he's smarter than that. Dominic feels that he is laying on a flat, metal surface. He feels that his wrists, stomach, and ankles are strapped down. The metal surface he is laying on, strapped down to, is moving. Dominic slowly opens one of his eyes and sees a male whitecoat helping three nurses push him down a hallway. Oh great, Dominic realizes that the flat metal surface he's strapped down to is a stretcher. That's always a good sign (sarcasm). The windows to the right are boarded up. Dominic glances to his left where the whitecoat is. He sees that they're passing metal doors with numbers on them. This place is too low security to be a prison. Uh-oh. Dominic frowns as he starts to weigh out the options of where he could be. He's pretty sure he knows, but he prays he's wrong. Please, Zeus please, don't let this be a loony bin. Please, unless your starting your shift, being at a loony bin is never a good sign. Never! Especially under the current circumstances, during the apocalypse, and after just being kidnapped. The whitecoat looks down at Dominic, notices his eyes are open, "Are you okay, Mr. Reaper?" What kind of a stupid ass question is that, Dominic thinks to himself. All he can do is look up at the guy with a disturbed and slightly mad expression on his face. Dominic isn't slightly mad though. He's at a point between completely fucking pissed and completely fucking enraged. "Who the fuck are you?" Dominic tugs at the straps s little. The male doctor in the whitecoat ignores the question and starts to explain, "I'm Dr. Sloan Renegade, and I'm here to help." Him and the three nurses continue rushing Dominic down the hallway. "Let me the fuck go then!" Dominic shouts and struggles against his restraints as much as he can. Nurse #1 pulls a syringe with a small bottle of sodium pentothal. She loads the right dosage into the needle, then quickly injects it into Dominic's arm. "You bitch!" Dominic shouts, staring his enraged brown eyes directly at Nurse #1. He makes sure that the nurse knows that it's her he is calling a bitch. Dominic continues to struggle as the drug pulls him under, until he blacks out. When he comes to he is groggy from the drugs side effects. All he knows is that he was strapped to a stretcher, and now he's strapped to a wooden chair. Dominic will admit, he likes whatever injected into his arm. Dr. Sloan Renegade pushes a metal table over to Dominic. "Who's that? Who's there?" Dominic slurs his words, the effects of the drugs in his system are keeping him from being able to open his eyes. The doctor opens up a wooden box that's on the metal table, "Please stay calm, Mr. Reaper," He pulls the Menace Jacket out of the box, "It'll be over soon." The whitecoat sounds assuring. "I don't wan- jusss- oh sshhlit-" Dominic tries to speak past the effects of the sodium pentothal. Dr. Renegade walks the Menace Jacket over to Dominic, who is hanging his head forward, nodding off. Two of the nurses cut off Dominic's shirt, he doesn't even notice. Sloan carefully puts the hood on Dominic's head then wipes the sweat from his forehead. After a couple seconds, the cloth of the Jacket starts to accept Dominic as the new Menace. It does that by forming itself over his torso. Once the Jacket is finished, Dominic feels like he just took a big shot of meth. "Whoooaaaa!" He is fully awake, "I'm not tired anymore," He chuckles, looks at the three nurses, then back at the whitecoat, "What did you give me? What is this? What am I- Oh shit!" Dominic's questions get cut off by his body tensing up so bad that he's frozen stiff. "Ahh!" He cracks his neck as his face starts to be painfully covered by complete darkness. His face, eyes, nose, and teeth get covered by a shadow-like pitch blackness. "Ahaha," Dominic gets a chuckle in with his painful screams. Even though he is in extreme pain, Dominic gets off, mentally, by seeing what type of, and how much pain he can go through. And this pain he's going through is topping the charts, and he's got a feeling that this isn't the worst of it. Dominic's pretty average for his height, 5' 10". It's how stout and broad-chested he is that is over average. He's already ripped with muscle from having a life where he grew up in The Valleys. But, while his face gets blackened out, Dominic's body starts to grow in height and muscle. "Hahahaha," He keeps chuckling in pain. Dr. Renegade and the nurses stare in shock, amazement, and in fear of Dominic. They all thought Dominic wasn't going to make it because of his average size. Maybe size doesn't matter with the Menace Jacket. It's most likely a mental thing, it all depends on how sick in the head you are, and Dominic is known to be pretty sick in the head. As his average-sized build grows, his skin tightens, his veins bulge out around his body's main muscle groups. Then the color of his veins change to blood red. "Haaaa," Dominic's teeth start to easily fall out of his mouth. He spits out the ones that he catches with his tongue, tastes the copper flavor of his own blood. The rest of his teeth just fall out, leaves a trail of blood/saliva coming from his mouth. This transformation is just blowing Dominic away. Mostly because he's still alive. Dominic knows that if he survives this it'll be worth it. He's already seen what a man looks like after transformed into Menace. After all his teeth are gone, sharp pointed teeth grow in their place in a matter of seconds. Dominic exhales deeply once his new 'shark' teeth are fully grown in. All he can think is 'What. Is. Next?' Then, it happens, his question gets an answer. His eyes burst into a raging inferno. It's like Dominic's eye are balls of gas that just came into contact with a lit match. "Haaaa haaa ha ha," Dominic feels like he's being tortured by his own body. It's like his split personality knows Dominic gets off on seeing how much pain he can take, and this split personality of his is testing his limit. But, before Dominic thinks about saying uncle, the pain starts to fade. His eyes stay ablaze and his body stays transformed. Which makes Dominic feel even better, even more badass. He likes the way this Menace character looks, how Dominic looks now, who Dominic is now. And, Dominic doesn't feel a single bit bad about being Menace. He will embrace it, make Menace as much a part of him as he can. No matter what this post-apocolyptic world puts in front of him. As the pain from the transformation completely fades, Dominic continues to take deep breaths. He shows off his new smile. The nurses still stare in somewhat fear, but Dr. Renegade smiles at the success. The hooded, eyes of fire success sitting in front of him. Dominic let's all of his super senses kick in. He's able to hear conversations other people are having two stories above him. His eyes are able to pick up heat signatures and materials that can make fire. Like the Bic lighters in Nurse #1's and #3's pockets. Hmmm, Dominic wouldn't have guessed that any of them as smokers. He's able to pick up on odd objects in the room that can be used as weapons. And, Dominic sees that his 'quick grab' duffel bag is stashed under the metal table. The best part is that Dominic can control his new super senses like he's had them his while life. Dominic looks at Dr. Renegade with his normal eyesight and his permanent Menace smile. His once average height is now 6' 7" and hrs twice as stout. Dominic now has nearly three times as much rock solid muscle as he used to. And this feeling of power, oh man. To hell with the best speed, crack, or meth in the world, throw that shit in the trash. The world's biggest junkies wouldn't even want to touch any of that if they could smoke, snort, or shoot up something that would make them feel the way Dominic does. Of course, Dominic quit shooting and snorting since he got out of the state prison. He needed to get his life on track to escape that place. No more doing hardcore drugs, life is too dangerous as it is already. All Dominic does now is smoke weed, of course, and there's his occasional shrooms, acid, opium, or LSD flashback. Dominic's gaze turns to the three nurses, "Any of you girls have a cig on ya?" The nurses give each other questioned expressions, unsure what to do. "Don't ask yourself if it's bad for the monster's health," Dominic jokes around, like he always does with strangers, "And don't tell me you're too ladylike to smoke. Two of you have lighter in your pants' pockets and you must use them for something," Dominic continues to stare at the three nurses. He doesn't really give off a facial expression since his face is completely blacked out, besides his flaming eyes and razor sharp pearly whites. Because of of the attitude passed down from Chaos to Menace, it always seems like he's smiling in some sort of way. Nurse #3 gives in and pulls out a pack of Newport menthols. She takes a few careful steps toward Dominic, holds out the menthol cancer stick for him. "Sweet," He smiles, "A real cigarette. You mind putting it in my mouth and torching it? I'm kinda tied down at the moment," He chuckles. Nurse #3 tries not to seem so shaky as sets the cigs filter between Dominic's lips, then pulls out her lighter. "Don't be afraid of me darling," Dominic flirts a little, carefully holding the cig with his teeth . For looking like the such a horrific monster, Nurse #3 is stunned with surprise by his sweet sounding voice, gentleman type of sweet. "I could never hurt a gorgeous woman like you," Dominic smiles like the charmer he is. Actually makes the nurse blush. She tries to hide it along with her smile as she lights the Newport. Dominic keeps his blazing stare on her as he breathes in the cigarette smoke, "Oh, please let that smile of yours be seen," Dominic takes a deep drag, "You shouldn't hide one of your most beautiful features," Even without speaking, he's able to keep his sweet, gentleman's charm switched on. Makes Nurse #3's beautiful feature come back, and she doesn't hide it this time. She smiles and blushes hard, glances at the other two nurses. Nurses #1 and #2 are surprised to see that #3 is being wooed by this random guy (monster). All three Nurses will admit that Dominic was super cute before the transformation. But now, with that sinister grin and his terrifying fire blazing eyes. His huge arms, tight muscles, toned abs, broad/solid chest, forearms, biceps, and those BIG shoulders. Oh dammit, now the other two nurses are gawking at Dominic's new body. And Dominic is able to notice, even without his super senses. He lets out a few chuckles, along with the cigarette smoke that rolls out of his mouth as he looks back at the whitecoat. "Well," Dominic exhales a big sigh and the straps holding him down rip apart like tissue paper, "Whew, that feels better. " He leans back in the chair, takes a deep drag from his cig then holds it between his right hand's middle and pointer fingers. Twenty of the world's best soldiers, best remaining soldiers that is, come out of the room's shadows with high-powered assault rifle's aimed and ready to fire. Ready to fire straight into Dominic's head. They don't scare or startle D though, don't even make him flinch. He just takes another drag from his Newport and blows a smoke ring around one of the assault rifle barrels that's in his face. "Stand down! Stand down!" Dr. Renegade pushes through the soldiers, makes his way to Dominic, "He wasn't going to harm anyone," The good doctor looks around at all the soldiers, assurance in his gaze and voice, "He was just getting comfortable. Right?" He directs his gaze and question toward Dominic. Dominic smiles at Sloan then around at all the soldiers, and the guns in their hands. He makes sure to take his time answering, because he can, "Yeah, of course," D takes a drag from his cigarette, "I couldn't breathe." Dominic keeps his 'Fuck you' smirk on his face. "There, satisfied? Now lower the weapons," Dr. Renegade orders the soldiers. They all slowly lower their weapons and go back into the shadows of the room. Sloan watches the soldiers until they're out of sight. He lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head in annoyance, "Sorry about that," Dr. Renegade looks back at Dominic, "Ever since zombies came to town, they've all been jumpy, they're always on edge, plus that's all mixed with itchy trigger fingers." Dr. Sloan keeps his serious facial expression on Dominic, seriously annoyed expression. "It's ok yo," Dominic drops the butt of the cigarette on the concrete floor and stomps it out, "It's not the first time I've had a gun, or several guns, pointed at my head." He chuckles. "Well, now that we got the security out of the way, how about I tell you what I was told to," Sloan shows that he's a no bullshit, straight to the point type of guy. Dominic thinks that's a good trait to have. After reading the file that President Jaxon made on Dominic Reaper, Sloan has learned that D is the type of guy who doesn't care for bullshit talk. And it's Dr. Renegade's mission from the president to make friends with Dominic, in case he goes against the plan. Dominic motions for the good doctor to continue. "Once again, I'm Dr. Sloan Renegade," He paces while talking, "I'm one of the president's head scientists, house doctor, physicist," Dominic feels like this guy gets sidetracked by his own success at times, "I know more about the human body and the body's of multiple monsters more than any other of the president's staff members like me." Sloan's voice takes a pause, but his legs and feet keep pacing. "Jaxon?" Dominic quickly gets the word out before the good doctor starts up his life story and accomplishments again. "Yes, he's the one that brought you here." Dr. Renegade explains. "Before you tell me why he did that, where exactly has he brought me?" Dominic waits to be answered. He gets a good and honest vibe from this doctor. Not like the vibe he got from the last doctor he knew on a first name basis. "Well, now that we got the security out of the way, how about I tell you what I was told to," Sloan shows that he's a no bullshit, straight to the point type of guy. Dominic thinks that's a good trait to have. After reading the file that President Jaxon made on Dominic Reaper, Sloan has learned that D is the type of guy who doesn't care for bullshit talk. And it's Dr. Renegade's mission from the president to make friends with Dominic, in case he goes against the plan. Dominic motions for the good doctor to continue. "Once again, I'm Dr. Sloan Renegade," He paces while talking, "I'm one of the president's head scientists, house doctor, physicist," Dominic feels like this guy gets sidetracked by his own success at times, "I know more about the human body and the body's of multiple monsters more than any other of the president's staff members like me." Sloan's voice takes a pause, but his legs and feet keep pacing. "Jaxon?" Dominic quickly gets the word out before the good doctor starts up his life story and accomplishments again. "Yes, he's the one that brought you here." Dr. Renegade explains. "Before you tell me why he did that, where exactly has he brought me?" Dominic waits to be answered. He gets a good and honest vibe from this doctor. Not like the vibe he got from the last doctor he knew on a first name basis. "You're still in New York. We're at Bellevue mental facility," Sloan looks around the big, open, concrete room, "Well, what it used to be anyway." He seems kinda bummed out. "I never been here," Dominic says in a calm way, "It's been recommended though," He adds with a smile. Sloan gets back on the ball, "I've been told to tell you that the president wants you for a mission," He informs, "His late brother said you would be perfect for the mission, before you killed him." Dominic chuckles at the remark. Doesn't feel bad about murdering the president's youngest brother. The mad doctor was a psychotic, twisted asshole who deserved his death. "He also said you would be perfect for the Menace Jacket. Especially after the first candidate turned out to be a nightmare," Dr. Renegade sighs. Dominic thinks back to how bad things got in prison once the Darkness' gang leader's brother turned into Menace. How worst things got. The whole place turned into a burning riot that you couldn't escape. "Anyway," Sloan turns back to Dominic, "I was just told to tell you who brought you here. I've probably said too much as it is." The whitecoat sighs and rubs his forehead from the pile of stress that's been put on him ever since this strange apocalypse started. "Since you seem like there's too much on your plate already, I'll try not to cause any problems for you." Dominic says respectfully. Let's the good doctor know that he won't have any trouble coming from him. "I appreciate that," Sloan pulls a pair of glasses out of his whitecoat's breast pocket, "I really appreciate that actually," He slides his glasses on and weakly smiles at Dominic, very weakly, "I got to get back to President Jaxon so you can know more about what's going on," He goes to the metal table and picks up a small stack of files and papers, "The nurses will get you whatever they need, or whatever they can get you. We're kinda short on.......everything, ever since, you know, the apocalypse," Dr. Renegade turns and looks at the new Menace, "I should be back tomorrow though." He adds, keeps his bummed out expression on his mug. "Then that's when I'll see ya," Dominic smiles his new maniac smile, tries to keep spirits up. Because he can sense that there is something wrong with this doctor. And for some ungodly reason Dominic feels sorry for the guy, whatever his problem is. Dominic got his loving and caring conscious from his late, but still wonderful mother. He got his smart-ass mouth and Dont-Take-Shit-From-Anyone attitude from his late father. Just to even himself out. "Later then," Sloan waves goodbye as he walks to the open elevator door then up to the ground floor. He keeps his gaze on the concrete floor as the elevator's doors close. Dr. Renegade's eyes show that his mind is somewhere else. Dominic continues to lightly wave until Sloan is out of sight. He then let's out a sigh, "Poor guy," Dominic shakes his head a couple times then notices the three nurses cleaning up. He also notices that Nurse #3 is still gawking at him. She tries to smoothly look away but it doesn't work. "It's ok, darling. I don't mind if you stare, I don't blame you either," Dominic seductively chuckles and directs his grin towards Nurse #3. Which nearly makes her turn red and giggle beyond control. "It'll cost you another one of them Newports though, gorgeous," He adds, just to flirt more with this woman. Who can be classified as one of those HOTT nurses that guys like Dominic fantasize about. Nurse #3 smiles more at Dominic, her cheeks red. She pulls out another cigarette and walk it over to him. The nurse only glances at Dominic's new face but she sees that he is looking straight at her eyes. Eye contact is key when it comes to getting girls to like you. He makes sure that their hands touch when he gently takes the cig from Nurse #3. "You want me to light it?" She seductively bites her lip. Nurses #1 and #2 both watch and listen in. Both suddenly feel left out because they're not getting hit on, or flirting with a VERY, VERY muscular monster. Dominic sees the sign and tales the hint Nurse #3 just sent out. "Please do," He holds the menthol between his teeth. She pulls out her Bic lighter again. "You might be the only woman hott enough to light me," Dominic stares into Nurse #3's eyes. She get lost in the flames of Dominic's eyes for a minute. With his sweet and charming voice, those big and tight arms, plus that last statement he just made to her. Those flaming eyes, that were normal colored a minute ago, are bright orange at the bottom and blood red at the top. The colors blend so perfectly together. The other two nurses look at each other in shock. Not because of how sweet the statement was or any of the other nice comments Dominic gave Nurse #3. But, because he wasn't saying that nice stuff to them. Both of their moods turn to jealousy, or envy. Along with Nurse #3, the other two nurses think that's a lot of muscle on a man. It's the most muscle any of the nurses have seen on any man. And, if the nurses were given the opportunity, they would rub all over Dominic's body, caress his unclothed and clothed bulges. After Nurse #3 stares too long into his flaming eyes, Dominic gets a slight uncomfortable feeling, because he doesn't know the color of his flaming eyes change color. He doesn't know that's what the nurse is lost in. "Uh-hmmm," Dominic clears his throat loud enough to pull Nurse #3 back into the real world. The cigarette is still caught between his teeth, and is still unlit. "Oh, sorry." She snaps out of it, then quickly lights up the menthol for D, and returns to her dream world. Dominic chuckles as he takes in a few drags and crosses his legs. He suddenly gets a sense of jealousy coming from somewhere in the basement. Dominic takes in another drag from his cig, french inhales the smoke through his nose and glances at the other two nurses. Yep, that's where the source of jealously is coming from. Even if he didn't have these new powers, Dominic would be able to tell those nurses are jealous just by the looks on their faces, and by how they quickly look away when Dominic notices their gawking gazes. "What are you two gorgeous girls doing over there by yourself?" He asks very loud, gets their attention and Nurse #3 comes back out of her dream world at the sound of his voice. She was so engrossed by his body that the N.I.L.F. didn't even notice he started to look at the other two nurses. Which, Dominic now sees that they are also N.I.L.F.'s. Oh, what a great ending to a very shitty day. "Why don't we gather up some chairs ladies. I want you pretty things to be as comfortable as possible, and feel as good as possible." Dominic chuckles. All three nurses giggle and blush together. Without even noticing, the nurses race each other to find chairs. Only one of them gets to sit directly in front of this Dominic, the sculpted monster. With those oddly mesmerizing flaming eyes. Dominic takes in a couple drags of his cigarette. Even though he's smoking this nicotine into his system like a steam engine, he doesn't feel the side effects of his lungs filling up with too much smoke. And he doesn't have the feeling of dreadful coughs about to attack, or any type of of coughs at all. Which always happens to Dominic. Has this Menace Jacket healed all of Dominic's health issues. All he knows about it is the change it does to your appearance, and he'd guess that he's now somewhat indestructible. But, before he tests out how much he can now take, Dominic thinks it might be a good idea to have this Dr. Sloan explain it all to him. Besides, it's not the time for testing how resilient his new body is. It's time to test how his new male parts work. Has it changed size? Does it still function? Who knows? What Dominic does know is that he's got three N.I.L.F.'s who are perfect for testing. "I'm here." Nurse #3 quickly plops down a couple inches in front of him. "Yes you are," Dominic smiles at her, leans forward and gently rubs her thigh for a few long seconds. Nurses #1 and #2 unexcitedly sit down on each side of him, feeling they're left out once again. "Don't worry darlings," Dominic seductively smiles at #1 and #2, "I can serve all three of you. It's my duty as a real man to pleasure you all beyond belief," He adds some seductive chuckles to his smile. N.I.L.F. #1 and #2 blush more than they have this evening. N.I.L.F. #3 is lost yet again, this time in Dominic's muscular chest. "You two can sit closer," Dominic says to #1 and #2, "Here, let me help," Dominic slowly bends his torso over and stretches out his long muscular arms and grabs both of their metal chairs. Dominic glances down, "Whoops," He devilishly chuckles, notices that his face is an inch from being in the nurses lap. He continues to chuckle as he sits back up and easily pulls the other two N.I.L.F.'s closer to him by their chairs. #1 and #2 watch Dominic and Nurse #3, both turned on and excited about getting their turns. N.I.L.F. #3 stares anxious and seductively at him. She slowly unbuttons the top of the top of her shirt, reveals the mounds of fun stuffed in her tight, red, push-up bra. "I'm guessing your favorite color is red," Dominic rhetorically asks, not worried if she answers. It doesn't really matter if that's her favorite color or not. "Mhmm," She sexily moans the answer. Dominic looks at N.I.L.F. #1, who is gawking at his biceps. "What's your favorite color baby?" He calmly asks. The nurse quickly unbuttons her whole shirt, her way of answering Dominic. She teases him a little by barely parting her shirt. Then, she pops out her perky DD breasts, that are wonderfully sculpted by a forest green push-up bra. N.I.L.F. #1 slowly moves her hands up her sides. Pushes her drool worthy breasts together a little. Just to tease Dominic some more. He smiles at her, very impressed. Dominic looks at the last N.I.L.F. "What about you baby?" The nurse looks to the ceiling for a minute, thinks. The other two nurses giggle while they watch. Both sit in a few different poses in their chairs. But every pose they make their big breasts stick out, in case Dominic is looking their way. N.I.L.F. #2 playfully smiles and stands up. Steps closer to Dominic, but doesn't get in the way of #1's and #3's view. She let's her fiery red hair down and flips it to one side, somewhat covers part of her face. Then, she starts to unbutton her shirt from the bottom. As she gets to the top buttons, Nurse #2 makes sure her shirt doesn't part at all. She seductively smiles and turns her back to Dominic, then lifts the shirt so her whole stomach is showing. The nurse ties both halves of her shirt together and quickly turns back to facing Dominic. She shows that she's not wearing a bra. And N.I.L.F. #2 has the biggest breasts out of the three. "Wow," Dominic laughs, "Do you not have a favorite color," Another rhetorical question followed by his chuckles. "I didn't say I was done," She laughs a laugh that is unbelievably sexy, Dominic instantly looks back and waits in anticipation. She bends her torso over in front of Dominic so he can see her melon sized breasts hang from her body, they sway, and bounce into each other. "Oh my sweet baby Zeus," Dominic gets out, even though he is speechless. Nurse #2 giggles and continues to do that as she digs her thumbs into the sides of her pants. She slowly straightens back up and pulls the sides of her purple thong up onto the top of her hip bones. "I like purple," N.I.L.F. #2 seductively smiles then swings her bubble butt towards Dominic. She struts it a few times before sitting it back down. "Well," Dominic gets his head out of the clouds, "Before you girls get too excited, or get me too excited," Dominic jokes. The nurses giggle a little. "Let me check something real quick," He wiggles his, now, pitch black colored tongue behind his 'shark teeth'. Then he licks his lips that are also, now, just as pitch black, "Sweet, my tongue and lips are still work, so you ladies are in for a real treat," Dominic seductively wiggles his tongue at the three nurses, then laughs pretty loud. The N.I.L.F.'s laugh with him, continue to to pose in their chairs like pornstars. "So, are you three friends?" Dominic suddenly stops laughing, but continues to smile. "Yes," Nurse #2 answers for all three. "We were sorority sisters," #3 adds. "Really?" Dominic seems a little even more excited. "Mhmm," All three of them nod their heads together. "That's a wonderful thing," He chuckles, takes another drag from the menthol cigarette, holds the smoke in his lungs for a minute. Looks in the air while he exhales. "So, tell me something, you three beauties like to experiment?" Chapter 2 "I don't know, Zeus," President Jaxon looks across his desk at the all powerful god, Zeus. "Dominic Reaper is a pretty big risk," Jaxon swallows the rest of his scotch then refills his short glass. "I didn't come all way here to get your opinion," Zeus speaks with authority. Which should make President Jaxon think about treating him with more respect. But, it doesn't. He's the president and all that power has went to his head. During his second term in office, Cecil arranged it so if you're voted for enough you can stay president until the people vote for someone else during election. President Cecil Jaxon has been in office for three terms, and plans being there until the day he retires. All because he gives the people what they want. But not everyone's going to lie down and be told what to do for the rest of their lives. "You said you wanted to help Olympus in the war, here's your chance," Zeus pauses, "I can always take the Reaper brothers and find someone else to help me," He warns Cecil. He's not lying though. It wouldn't be a problem for Zeus to take back what's his. He's certainly not going to let some human on a power trip muck up his plans. "No, I want to help you," Cecil takes a sip of his scotch, "I'm just trying to give you better optio-" A mighty voice cuts Jaxon's sentence short, "I don't need any better options!" Zeus slams his hands down on Cecil's desk, "Just do as I say," He takes charge of the conversation. Zeus knows that President Jaxon sometimes forgets that he is the hired help, not the other way around. Zeus steps to the office's door then turns back to Cecil, "Just in case that kid doesn't believe you're working for me, I'll join you when you go see him," Zeus walks out the room, leaves the door open, "You'll hear from me," The deep and mighty voice of power echoes through the hall. President Jaxon's fake smile turns to an evil glare. He looks at his large, flatscreen computer monitor. It shows several views of the white house. President Jaxon watches Zeus walk down the hall, then he just disappears. Cecil drinks the rest of the scotch in his glass then sighs in hatred. Doesn't really appreciate being talked down to or being put in his place. Which is exactly Zeus has done. But, there's really nothing he can do about it, unless he wants to get a lightning bolt shoved up his ass. President Jaxon will play along for now, but at some point he will find a way to get something out of this for himself. "President, Dr. Renegade is on line one," Cecil's secretary beeps over the intercom. He finishes his scotch then picks up his office phone. The rest of the surrounding cities are without electricity so the white house can keep running. "Hello," He talks into the receiver. "The subject has successfully changed and wants to know more," Sloan gets to the point, as usual. He uses the same bummed out tone of voice. "Great," President Jaxon smiles, leans back in his leather chair and props his feet on his desk, "Do you think he will accept the mission?" Cecil pours himself another scotch. "I don't know. I haven't gotten to actually talking with him about it yet," Sloan doesn't really want to, but he's going to. It's the good doctor's job, and he gave his word. "Alright," Cecil takes a sip of scotch, "I'll fly out tomorrow. Someone will be with me," He gets a burning feeling in his stomach when the thought of Zeus enters his mind. "Who will that be, sir?" Sloan doesn't show excitement in the question. President Jaxon takes a minute to answer, "The god in charge of this whole thing," That's the best answer Cecil can come up with. Dr. Renegade gets a little excited and nervous about meeting Zeus, Mr. Lightning Bolt himself. "Are you going to be able to handle yourself around him?" President Jaxon can tell by the doctor's silence that things might get uncomfortable. "No, no. I'll be fine." Sloan trues to reassure the president. "Ok, a piece of advice though. Treat him as a regular human, he prefers it that way." Cecil finishes. No problem. Just treat The Creator, who has an unknown amount and unlimited powers, like a regular, everyday human being. Easy. Sloan swallows his nervous feelings and calms himself down. As much as he can anyway. "Yes, sir. I won't ruin things for you," He says respectfully. This so called zombie apocalypse didn't just turn more than half of the population into monsters, or stop normal human civilization. It also took away Dr. Renegade's amazing wife of six wonderful years. And, soon after that, his seventeen year old daughter goes missing. Not dead, just missing. That's what Sloan tells himself anyway, to help himself feel better. "Wonderful, doctor," Cecil pulls Sloan back into the real world, "I'll be on the east coast tomorrow," The president doesn't say goodbye, he just hangs up. No surprise, or the feeling of being rude to by Dr. Renegade. He's used to it. He expects it from the president. Sloan respects the guy just enough and does what he says because Cecil pays good and it keeps the good doctor's mind busy, and his body safe. But, President Jaxon promised, gave his word to Sloan that he would send out search parties to find the doctor's daughter. That promise was made over a month ago. And, deep down inside, Sloan's extremely pissed about it.

[jamathon]

Ask me! I'll answer honestly

1: How tall or short do you wish you were? lit 7′0″ 2: What’s your dream pet? (Real or not) cat 3: Do you have a favorite clothing style? met gala type fancy for sure.  4: What was your favorite video game growing up? Just dance 5: What three things/people do you think of most each day? My gf, boulder, art, 

6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say? "pwease no steppy” 7: What is your opinion on life? V weird. v cool 8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic] I tihnkkkk it was melancholic but i shud take it again bc it’s def changed  9: Are you ticklish? very 10: Are you allergic to anything? not that i know yet 11: What’s your sexuality? gay bi gay bi gay bi.  12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa? Tea 13: Are you a cat or dog person? cat 14: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson? whichever one is least lonely. probably merperson. 15: Do you have a favorite Youtuber? Alex bertie!! 16: How tall are you? 5′4 17: If you had to change your name, what would you change it to? Kiwi 18: How much do you weigh? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] likeee 125 19: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits? pass. 20: Do you like space or the ocean more? Ocean.  21: Are you religious? No 22: Pet peeves? A . Lot. im so impatient.  23: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal [opposite of nocturnal]? Diurnal! 24: Favorite constellation? uhhhh *panics and looks around kitchen* the big spoon 25: Favorite star? North bc i used to see it every night after work and i didn’t know it alr had a name so i named it after my gf as a romantic gesture hahhahaha 26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls? Yuh 27: Any phobias or fears? Afraid of loneliness  28: Do you think global warming is real? shut up.  29: Do you believe in reincarnation? Havent thought about it 30: Favorite movie? Scott pilgrim 31: Do you get scared easily? Yes 32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime? 1 33: Blog rate? [You’ll rate the blog of the one who’s asking.] my blogs a 10 even tho i still have the OG tumblr theme 34: What is a color that calms you? blue 35: Where would you like to travel and/or live? Iceland 36: Where were you born? baltimore 37: What is your eye color? hazel 38: Introvert or extrovert? both 39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs? hahahhaha yesss 40: Hugs or kisses? bofa 41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now? Would love to visit boulder i miss the mountains & weather a lot 42: Who is someone you love deeply? Rayven 43: Any piercings you want? septum tbh 44: Do you like tattoos and piercings? yes. v hot 45: Do you smoke or have you eiver done so? not anymore 46: Talk about your crush, if you have one! Rayven is my crush and also my gf she’s about to turn 21 which is exciting!! this feels like show n tell haha 47: What is a sound you really hate? fingernail scratching jeans 48: A sound you really love? keys jingling 49: Can you do a backflip? no 50: Can you do the splits?  no 51: Favorite actor and/or actress? emma stone  52: Favorite movie?alr asked. scotty P. 53: How are you feeling right now? fine but restless bc of a tummy ache 54: What color would you like your hair to be right now? back to black acctuallly im tired of dying it  55: When did you feel happiest? idk 56: Something that calms you down? tumblr 57: Have any mental disorders? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] havent had an evaluation in years so idk! 58: What does your URL mean? that’s my JAMATHON!!! To describe a good song. A word i tried to make happen. like fetch. except not original, just “jam” with “athon” added.  59: What three words describe you the most? Understanding. Funny. Intense.  60: Do you believe in evolution? Yes 61: What makes you unfollow a blog? If they dont post enuf memes 62: What makes you follow a blog? Memes 63: Favorite kind of person: Funny, outgoing, spontaneous  64: Favorite animal(s): Whales 65: Name three of your favorite blogs. eh idk 66: Favorite emoticon: the drooling one 67: Favorite meme: too many 68: What is your MBTI personality type? intp idk if that’s right 69: What is your star sign? capricorn  70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog? no 71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most? i like layers. probably my leather jacket w black pants and a my yellow shirt. it makes me feel cute 72: Post a selfie or two? too hard 73: Do you have platform shoes? yes 74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself? I used to be double jointed and could bend my finger back to touch my hand, unsure what happened but now i have 0 party tricks 75: Can you do a front flip? yeah probably 76: Do you like birds? So much!!!!!! 77: Do you like to swim? no!!!!!! 78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you? swimming... 79: Something you wish didn’t exist: pollution 80: Some thing you wish did exist: cures 81: Piercings you have? ears 82: Something you really enjoy doing: playing music/drawing/taking pictures 83: Favorite person to talk to: rayven 84: What was your first impression of Tumblr? cupcakes 85: How many followers do you have? like 100 on this blog now hahaha 86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes? yes but will I? No. 87: Do your socks always match? No 88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely? No 89: What are your birthstones? Turquoise  90: If you were an animal, which one would you be? Fox 91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be? I want to be creative but when i think about it...a red rose.  92: A store you hate? The grocery store bc im there all the time 93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day? zero now but at the beginning of the year i was drinking around 4-5 a day.  94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds? fly 95: Do you like to wear camo? nah 96: Winter or summer? Used to be winter but nothing is good in the south. 97: How long can you hold your breath for? not long at all it gives me anxiety 98: Least favorite person? some of the people ive met in the past year have been atrocious.  99: Someone you look up to: My roommate Chris.  100: A store you love? I could spend all day in H&M  101: Favorite type of shoes? vans 102: Where do you live? ....atlanta 103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why? Yes bc my girlfriend is and we always share food so like... i guess i eat meat on my own but that’s liike once a month haha 104: What is your favorite mineral or gem? hmmm...bismuth. 105: Do you drink milk? No 106: Do you like bugs? Not in the south. 107: Do you like spiders? NO. 108: Something you get paranoid about? Bugs. 109: Can you draw: NO. 110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked? people love prying idk at this point 111: A question you hate being asked? are u a boy or a girl has definitely gotten old 112: Ever been bitten by a spider? yes 113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach? yesssssss 114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days? depends 115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now: my gf 116: Favorite cloud type: rain cloud 117: What color do you wish the sky was? orange.  118: Do you have freckles? yes 119: Favorite thing about a person: humor 120: Fruits or vegetables? veggies 121: Something you want to do right now: sleep but im restless :( 122: Is the ocean or sky prettier? hmmmm depends 123: Sweet or sour foods? sweet for sure.  124: Bright or dim lights? bright bc i need new glasses and cant see in dim light 125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature? dragons  126: Something you hate about Tumblr: nothing really 127: Something you love about Tumblr: takes my mind off everything 128: What do you think about the least? everything i shud be thinking about 129: What would you want written on your tombstone? something super funny that i cant think of rn 130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now? John cena bc i think he’d find it funny 131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself? Inability to fake happiness  132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures? sometimes! 133: Computer or TV? computer bc its both 134: Do you like roller coasters?  no 135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness? yes 136: Are your ears lobed or attached? lobed bruh 137: Do you believe in karma? idk 138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are? strong 8.5! I don’t think im too shabby most of the time actually 139: What nicknames do you have/have had? kiwi 140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends? yes named Kiki  141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink? plenty  142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others? Depends 143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help? Receiving  144: What makes you angry? people not being nice really irks me 145: How many languages do you speak fluently? 1 146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries? tag yourself im nonbinaries  147: Are you androgynous? i’d say  148: Favorite physical thing about yourself: lately it’s been my chest. it’s p hot 149: Favorite thing about your personality: I’m funny.  150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person. uhh idk 151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose? the uhhh one w swords  152: Do you like BuzzFeed? ya 153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.] Tindeerrrrr  hah 154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons? uh idk 155: Do you like to play with others’ hair? ya 156: What embarrasses you? a lot 157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious: when other people are noticably anxious  158: Biggest lie you have ever told: idk 159: How many people are you following? lots  160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)? lots 161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)? like 50 162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)? like 3,000 ishhhh  163: Last time you cried and why: My birthday bc one of rayvens gifts was ....so ....fuckin..sweet 164: Do you have long or short hair? short 165: Longest your hair has ever been: long 166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon? It’s annoying lmfao 167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created? Only bc im nosy 168: Do you like to wear makeup? no 169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds? no 170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully? yup