#honestly take rent control away and let them charge even more for rent

[rollinouttahere-writes]

milk chocolate #7 w/ sir crocodile if you please!!!! ^_^ i'd really appreciate it if it could be masc reader but gn is fine too ! thanks in advance ! 🧡

I increased the word limit only to exceed it yet again

Anyways. For this one I made it yandere, hope you enjoy it!

Yandere Crocodile x Masc!Reader

1.7k words

Prompt:

I’ll be right back, I have to go take care of something.

It was more than a little surprising when Sir Crocodile had reached out to your family wanting to do business together. All of you had been extremely skeptical to agree to even meet up to discuss the matter. Your parents never bought into the idea that a pirate turned warlord could ditch his life of crime to peacefully open and run a casino, and you didn’t either.

Everything about him felt shady to you, but not unfamiliar. You’re a businessman, you’ve met some slimy motherfuckers in your day. Sir Crocodile gave the impression of someone who liked to have a hand in every pot, as well as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to backstab anyone if he thought it would benefit himself.

In short, you had his number.

If you had it your way, the offer would have been shot down and never entertained. Unfortunately, you're not the one calling the shots in the family business. Your parents may be starting to step back and let you control more, but they were still extremely present and were the ones to make the final decisions. 

And for whatever reason, they bit. As much as you hated it, you would be moving forward with the new location. Loathed as you were to admit it, you could see their reasoning. With how successful and popular his casino Rain Dinners had gotten, more and more people were coming to Rainbase just to go there. Having an additional store inside the casino’s latest expansion would certainly help to get the business of the people who may have otherwise missed it.

Given that casinos were an environment that encouraged impulsivity, it was to be expected that the fine jewelry your family was known for would catch people’s eyes and entice more purchases. Someone who wins big will feel inclined to get themselves something(s) nice, thus sending the money right back into Crocodile’s hand.

The reasoning for accepting the offer made sense, though you couldn’t help but fear what would come with it. Blackmail and extortion seemed like the most likely possibilities, all of you would have to be on perpetual high alert to prevent any scandals or worse. This partnership will be a tedious one to say the least.

Seeing as that you would one day be in charge of your family’s businesses, it was decided that you would be the one meeting with Crocodile to discuss any questions and important details connected to the new location. You may not like him, but you would prefer to interact with him over your aging parents do so.

At first, everything seemed normal. Discussing things like rent and utility costs, or what his cut of the store’s sales would be was something you expected and came prepared for. The debate on his percentage was a long one, but you walked away from it mostly content with the result. It was slightly higher than you would have preferred, but he did throw in some stocks, so it will likely balance out so long as the casino doesn’t crash and burn.

As time went on, the meetings progressively made less and less sense. For whatever reason, Crocodile felt the need to have you come to the casino to approve of the store’s layout. The contractors your family employed have been working for them since they opened the first store, you had full faith in their ability to make it to your family’s liking. Having you come in just to agree that you approved of the blueprints seemed pointless, but whatever. There are worse things he could do.

Then he wanted to see a catalog of what you planned to have on display. It was beyond you why he needed this information. Jewelry and the sales of it were your forte, not his. Honestly you felt a bit insulted that he thought you needed his input, but you bit your tongue and showed him the created selection.

Right now, though? The current meeting was nothing short of ridiculous. He had requested your presence at Rain Dinners yet again. You were sitting across from him in a private booth in the casino, nursing a glass of bourbon.

It’s been almost an hour already and he hasn’t brought up your store once. At first you thought that maybe he was waiting on his assistant to bring some documents, but you doubted that more the longer this went on for. He should have gotten irritable by now, but instead he appeared to be shockingly content.

Perhaps he was just enjoying your company? You had to resist the urge to snort at the absurdity of that idea. Of course that wasn’t the case. He wanted something, you just had no idea what.

The ice in your drink clinked against the glass as you swirled it around absentmindedly. Clearing your throat, you cut to the chase, “Why am I here?”

Crocodile grinned, “I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.” He shot back the rest of his own drink before reaching into his coat pocket for a cigar. There was no sense of urgency in the action, he was confident you would patiently wait. The cigar was held between his teeth, and he made a show of checking for his lighter. “It would seem I forgot my lighter. Be nice and light this for me.”

The fact that he was taking his sweet time answering your question was annoying the hell out of you, but if it meant getting him to talk, then fine. You pulled out your own lighter and reached forward and up to light his cigar. His excessive height made it more than a little awkward to do this, but you were successful.

Your fingers drummed impatiently on the table as he took a drag from it. He chuckled at the display, then stood up from the table, “I’ll be right back, I have to go take care of something.”

With that, he walked away. Your jaw dropped at the audacity. Was this some kind of game to him? Forget this, you weren’t going to sit here all day while he messed with you. Downing the rest of your drink, you grab your jacket and make a move to get out of the booth.

Suddenly, several guards block you in. Your pulse begins to quicken. You tried to keep your voice even, “Move. I’m leaving.”

“No you’re not.” The statement was spoken so matter-of-factly that it honestly gave you pause. You shook your head. They had no authority over you, why should you listen to these goons? You try to push past them only to get violently shoved back into the booth.

Oh. This was bad. Did Crocodile already manage to get some dirt on your family? Not seeing any other option, you sit up and elect to stay put. You pull out your pack of cigarettes and light one up. You’re definitely going to need it with the way things are going.

It wasn’t long before the warlord returned. The guards dispersed immediately, you suppose it makes sense that they would no longer be needed with someone as powerful as him here. He was carrying a transponder snail that was set on the table ominously. Just what the hell did he need that for? Who else was getting involved in this damned meeting?

All you do is glare at Crocodile while you wait for him to drop whatever bombshell he had up his sleeve. Fortunately, it seemed he was done making you wait. “I think we would make a great team.”

A team? You weren’t completely sure what he was getting at. “We’re already business partners in a sense, what more do you want?”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I’m interested in you. Romantically.”

The abruptness of the confession knocks the wind out of you, and against your better judgment, you start laughing. This whole situation felt fake, like you were going to wake up in bed any minute. 

So that’s what this all was about. He was looking to get more money and power from your family, and he was going to do so by either a marriage or by getting blackmail on you. He was far from the first person to try and do this to you, and you were far too experienced to fall for it.

A click followed by the ringing of the transponder snail snapped you out of it. Crocodile’s expression was extremely unamused, unlike yours. He forces the receiver into your hands and you’re left confused. The call goes through, and you hesitantly bring the receiver to your mouth, “Hello? Who am I speaking with?”

Everything was silent for a moment, then a familiar voice came through. “(Y/N)? Oh god they have you, too,” your mother’s voice wavered and it sounded like she was struggling not to have a breakdown. 

Your heart drops into your stomach. “This is sick! Where is she?! What did you do to her?!” It’s taking everything you have not to launch yourself over the table at Crocodile and try to strangle him with the cord.

“Calm down! M-Maybe it would be best if you… if you just agree to whatever he’s asking you. Please.” Your mother was frantic, worried for not only her own well being but yours too.

You wanted to refuse and hold strong, but your brain caught up to the problem at hand and recognized how bad of an idea that would be. He had at least one of your parents at an undisclosed location with who knows how many of his henchmen. If you piss him off your mother is as good as dead.

That bastard had you exactly where he wanted you and he knew it. He planned it out perfectly. There was no way out of this situation that didn’t work in his favor. Through gritted teeth, you looked Crocodile in the eyes and spat out, “Fine.”

He chuckled, then plucked the receiver out of your hands to hang it up. Before you could reach for it to call back and ensure that your parents were going to be safe now, you were dragged out of the booth by the warlord himself. 

“You’re a smart man, I knew you would come around. Let’s have dinner together and we can discuss how things are going to be from now on.”

[saybees]

Y'know, something that I think isn't talked about enough is landlords discriminating against people for their age. Unfortunately they ARE allowed to do this because there are apartment buildings that are like seniors only 55+ type things, BUT a lot of landlords won't rent to young people simply because they're young. When my ex and I moved to the west coast we had a VERY hard time finding new places to live all the time. People wouldn't rent to us because we were barely 20. We had steady jobs that made enough to cover at least rent every month, but we had never rented before so we had no references and we were overlooked for SO many places. I couldn't even tell you how many places we applied for.

Like generally landlords are shit. They aren't allowed to discriminate against people for a lot of things, but there are also a lot of things they CAN discriminate against people for and they will do all of the things. Why? Because they can??? Is it a power thing?

And the thing that doesn't make sense to me is that a lot of landlords would rather leave a place empty rather than rent to the young couple with a dog that work at a grocery store. If they leave the place empty they are paying for the utilities and the taxes with no income from that property, but if they throw in tenants that are just less than their unicorn rainbow sparkle ideal they are instead making revenue. From a business standpoint it makes absolutely zero sense for a landlord to choose to leave their property empty instead of renting it out to someone less "desirable" to them.

Oh

I just got it. It clicked. They're doing it on purpose to drive prices up. Demand is higher and supply is lower so the price spikes. Dirty bastards.

Eat the rich.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Rocketear

The Rocketeer is a 1991 Disney movie set in 1930's America where a test pilot gets a jetpack and uses it to fight Nazis and— Wait, what? “Rocketear”? Oh, damn it!

Let's get into the eleventh (chronologically the seventeenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Rocketear.

We start off with Carapace and Cat Noir struggling to hold back some T-Rexes brought back to life by a scientist Jurassic Park style. Seriously, they reference the movie in the same scene.

Why wasn't this the plot of the episode again?

After managing to tame the dinosaurs with a whistle of all things, Ladybug notices something's wrong with Nino after he gives the Turtle Miraculous back to her. Apparently, he's wondering why Rena Rouge (who he knows is Alya) wasn't recruited with him today. Ladybug tells him that he was the only help she needed today. In reality, it's because Alya has adjusted to her new role of supporting Ladybug behind the scenes in her new form, Rena Furtive.

And I'm not a fan of the new form. I get the camo, but it doesn't really help her blend in when her suit is bright blue. I think it's based off the arctic fox, but that animal is able to camouflage itself because it's fur matches the snowy environment. I'm sure a bright blue jumpsuit won't stand out when she tries to blend in at all. Also, the fact that Alya can just change her hero form gives even less excuses as to why Ladybug's new form is only when she uses her Lucky Charm.

Alya is struggling to keep this a secret from Nino because they don't have a lot of secrets in their relationship. Marinette says she can kind of get it because she had to keep her identity a secret from her friend and has to keep keeping her identity a secret from everyone else. Basically, she's telling Alya to suck it up because this is what being a superhero is.

So the next time she sees Nino, Alya tells him she's no longer Rena Rouge, but not about Rena Furtive, which troubles her. The very next scene shows Alya showing Marinette pictures she took of her new costume and asking her which version looks better.

You could always try reviewing Akuma fights. I heard there's one blog that does it when they're not criticizing the famous director Thomas Astruc on social media.

Yeah, in case you can't tell, Alya was only able to rent her brain for a few episodes because she really doesn't seem as understanding about being a superhero as she was in earlier episodes. In episodes like “Optigami” and “Sentibubbler”, we saw Alya use more strategy and show discretion as Rena Rouge, seemingly taking her job more seriously, but then this episode just had to go and piss it all away. I also love how the first time the animators made Alya's skin the same when she's transformed is in a single frame for a joke.

Alya thankfully deletes the picture, but Nino overhears her talking about struggling to find more content for the Ladyblog, and decides to go to the movies with her to help take her mind off things. Nino, in turn, proceeds to give the same reaction to the in-universe Ladybug movie that Astruc gives to the PV.

Apparently, that movie's already getting a sequel and it has a teaser. So was the sequel animated at the same time as the original like Back to the Future Part II and Back to the Future Part III?

Nino gets pissed the next movie in the Ladybug Cinematic Universe will feature Rena Rouge and not Carapace... even though Rena Rouge debuted first. The teaser then shows Rena Rouge falling for Cat Noir (yet another creative liberty taken by the writers or something Astruc's self-insert threw in himself), and takes it like it's the real thing. Dude, the first movie said Ladybug was afraid of cats, and the director yelled at the person it was based on for judging it. He clearly has a hard time distinguishing fiction from reality.

Alya leaves Nino early so she can go on patrol, but Nino sees Cat Noir heading out as well. He then watches a video on the Ladyblog where Alya praises Cat Noir which is totally not Astruc projecting or anything.

I don't know what your definition of a prince is, Alya, and I honestly don't want to know.

So Nino takes this as evidence that Alya is in love with Cat Noir and decides to tell Adrien, who naturally laughs him off. And just before you think we have an episode where Adrien plays the straight man, Adrien decides to visit Alya because he's afraid he accidentally charmed Alya.

Yes, because Cat Noir is so charming, girls are just fighting over him, aren't they?

We then cut to a black and white film noir monologue by Nino (dressed like a detective with a fake mustache), who decides to spy on Alya. When Cat Noir asks Alya if she is attracted to him, she naturally laughs him off, though Cat Noir is thankfully a good sport about it, even giving her a hug to apologize. Unfortunately, Nino took this the wrong way.

The next day at school, Nino takes Adrien into his “office” (it's really an excuse to reuse the boiler room setpiece), and shows him the picture of the hug. Adrien says that Alya would never fall for Cat Noir because she's always dedicated to finding out the truth and telling her boyfriend everything. What's Nino's retort?

Okay, several problems with this bit. First of all, why would Nino even tell Adrien any of this? What would it accomplish? Why not say all this to Alya while confronting her about her alleged unfaithfulness? Second, Ladybug didn't give Nino and Alya their Miraculous at the same time until it was an absolute emergency. She outright said in “Hero's Day” that she didn't have time to recruit Nino and Alya separately.

Ladybug: I'm sorry for what I'm about to do. I know I'm revealing your secret identities but I don't have time to find a good excuse to give them to you separately. Rena Rouge and Carapace, I need you both!

Nino and Alya kept their identities secret from each other until then, with Alya even keeping the fact she knew who Carapace was a secret as well. Nino didn't find out because “they don't hide anything from each other” (which I plan to talk about later).

Other than that, I actually liked Adrien in this scene. It was really investing to see him try to justify the whole secret identities rule while Nino blatantly said there was an exception. This is the kind of stuff I wanted to see when it came to Adrien doubting Ladybug, not him destroying things in his anger.

While Nino rants about how Cat Noir “stole” Alya from him, Shadowmoth sends an Akuma his way, turning him into Rocketear.

And the design he has is just boring. It's just a blue jumpsuit with some black spots that look like teardrops, a teardrop-shaped head and a visor. I think the reason this season's been relying more on past Akumas and using more Sentimonsters is because DQ is terrible at character designs. I mean, compare this suit with Aigraon from Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger (his Power Rangers counterpart is Wrench from Dino Charge).

The design does so much more with the teardrop motif, giving him a perpetually miserable face with tear lines going all over his body. Add that to a more diverse color scheme, and you have a much more visually stunning design. And this was created in real life, not rendered on a computer. I'm not sure if this is a budget thing or a laziness thing, but if it's the former, you really need to do better, animators.

The powers are meh, giving Nino the ability to fling explosive tears at enemies. It's a clever idea, and it makes sense he gets a power that parallels Cat Noir's, but I think maybe it would have been more interesting if he couldn't control the tears at all. Like, imagine if he was constantly crying like Blue Diamond, and with every tear he shed, Rocketeer could send it at whoever he felt was causing him misery, mainly Cat Noir, all while serving as a metaphor for people who blame others for their own personal issues. Better yet, make him look like the detective outfit Nino wore for the second act. It would have made him more unpredictable instead of making his tears generic projectile weapons.

Marinette and Alya see the fight and transform into Ladybug and Rena Furtive respectively, the former summoning her Lucky Charm, a projector. Is it just me, or has this been happening with Ladybug a lot recently?

Back to Rocketear, we get a good moment where Cat Noir intentionally lets the Akuma hit him so he can get a chance to resolve things diplomatically. See, this is a moment where Cat Noir's self-sacrificing nature feels heroic and not selfish like when he does it without Ladybug's permission to spite her. Unfortunately, it doesn't really go anywhere as Ladybug shows up and plays the recording Nino took (Alya found his phone earlier), while Rena Furtive uses her Mirage to give the audio to what actually happened that night.

Rena transforms back into Alya and embraces Rocketear, who apologizes to her for his behavior. And then he just... rejects Shadowmoth's power while looking like it wasn't that much effort.

At least when Chloe and Alya did it, we saw them struggling for a little longer. I guess maybe it's because Nino is motivated by his love for Alya, but I think it should have been fleshed out more. So Ladybug purifies the Akuma, gives Nino a Magical Charm, and Cat Noir is still unsure about his feelings for Ladybug at the moment, though they still pound it.

Back in his room, Adrien ponders why Alya and Nino get to know their identities while he and Ladybug can't, but Plagg points out it's because she's the Guardian. It's brief, but I do like seeing Adrien start to doubt Ladybug's judgment, and it looks like it'll foreshadow future episodes. This is a problem I've had since “Hero's Day”, and I'm glad the writers are finally acknowledging this double standard. I just hope they don't end up blaming Marinette for whatever happens later on.

Marinette, of course, apologizes for what happened between Alya and Nino, and I have to say... yeah, no. It's obviously Nino's fault here.

Nino really pushed personal boundaries in this episode, much like Marinette's friends in “Gang of Secrets”. Yes, honesty is a valuable trait, but sometimes, people have secrets they want to keep to themselves. Nino's idea of “not hiding anything from each other” is somewhat controlling, like he's demanding Alya tell him everything whether she wants to or not. The fact that he immediately assumed Alya was cheating on him without giving her freedom to make her own choices doesn't make him look good. Let's be honest, a more realistic outcome would be Alya choosing to break things off with Nino or at least lecture him about how she can do what she wants and keep the secrets she wants. But instead...

And that's how the episode ends.

Okay, Marinette just said she trusted Alya to make the right decision, but I highly doubt she meant this. Marinette strictly said Alya had to keep Rena Furtive a secret, and now she's telling Nino this despite the risk? The whole reason Marinette and Luka broke up was because Marinette had to keep her secrets from Luka, but now it's okay for Alya to be completely honest? How is this not a double standard?

This episode was just dull, and there’s not even much I can really say about it.. There were a handful of standout moments, and the stuff with Adrien was somewhat compelling, but Nino's behavior was just insufferable and dragged the episode down. The Akuma fight was weak, only lasting about four minutes at most, and while the Lucky Charm was more creative this time, the plot was just frustrating. It's really one of the weaker episodes this season.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to watch the better Rocketeer.

[sableseb]

Illusion

Jack Benjamin x escort!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: allusions to homophobia, sex work, smut, rough & quick, spanking, exhibitionism, dirty talk, degradation

The events that have unfolded in the past couple of days lay scattered in Jack’s mind. He paces the expanse of his lavish quarters thinking of how his life went to shit this fast. His mother and father know. They know how he craves the touch of a man. His father told him to hide it, hide the feelings he has and never let them resurface. His mother slapped him for saying he loved another man. He pushed his secret lover away for the sake of his reputation. Now, the whole court is questioning him, hanging his sexuality over his head in case they ever need to bring him down.

His parents explicitly stated that to be King, he must put away his sinful, lust fueled desires for the same sex. This kingdom his father built is based on the Christian faith and what sort of God fearing kingdom would want a King that kisses men? What a joke. It always leaves a bad taste in his mouth and a sick feeling of not being accepted in his stomach.

As Jack looks out of his bedroom window to the twinkling night life below, he makes a decision. To him, being King is above his true feelings. He’ll follow his parents wishes like the good little soldier he always is. He’ll keep up his playboy, panty dropper act for the sake of the crown resting atop of his head one day.

They want a ladies man? They’ll get one, they’ll see he’s worthy of the crown. He may prefer sleeping with men, but that doesn’t mean he has a disdain for the feeling of a cock drunk broad wrapped around him. And luckily for him, his suave attitude and pretty boy face works like a charm each time he needs a quick fuck.

He knows of a night club that’s crawling with bachelors, married men, and even women looking for a good time, with their night ending by taking one of the ladies who work there home and finding pleasure in between the sheets.

Jack pulls out his cell and taps the first number in his contacts. He bites his nails on the hand currently occupying the phone in anticipation for what he has planned tonight. It’s sure to get everyone off his dick.

It rings for a beat before a, “Hello?” cracks through the speaker. 

“Louis? It’s Jack. I’m going out tonight. Make sure all the paparazzi knows. Tell them I’ll be at Pyre.” he says hastily while going around his room searching for his coat.

The line is silent for a moment. Louis knows not to question Jack’s requests when he gets that oddly, erratic tone in his voice. Without a second thought Louis says, “I don’t know what you’re up to, but be careful.”

Jack ends the call and makes his way out of the castle down to the city goers below. There’s a slight chill in the air that goes unnoticed by the people in barely there clothing looking for their next party spot. He brushes through the crowds to his desired destination. Bright, neon colors light up the whole block and to his right, he sees it. Sultry, red cursive lettering spelling out, “Pyre.”

He’s met with flashing cameras and yelling at the front entrance of the club. Good to know Louis is still a worthy asset. He flashes that pearly, white smile that borders boyish charm and slyness. The King and Queen’s son is always a hot topic in the press. And he’s sure that after tonight, he’ll be a hot topic nationwide.

As he steps through the club’s threshold, he’s met with darkness and thumping music. The only source of light coming from the strobes that bounce across the sweat soaked bodies grinding against one another. 

He starts to assess the women and sees you. Clad in a silver dress that falls just below that round ass and heels that accentuate those long legs leaning against the bar stool. You’re perfect. Perfect enough for him to already sport a hard on. 

He makes his way to you with a certain air of confidence that only he seems to possess. He comes up beside you and leans into your ear to, rather loudly, say over the bass, “The name’s Jack. And I’d really love to have some company tonight.”

You turn to face the man that made his presence known and take him in. Oh, so the prince is the one who needs a good fucking. You’d be lying if you said that this moment in time didn’t give you an ego trip. You’ve always thought about what it would be like to press your lips to his perfect pout and stare into those baby blues as he takes you apart ever since he graced the cover of VOGUE.

You smirk into your drink. “I know a prince when I see one, Mr. Benjamin.” 

He figured as much you’d recognize him. All the kingdom knows of him and his risque reputation. 

“Then, I’m guessing you won’t deny a prince of his request? I pay handsomely.” he states matter of factually.

He honestly didn’t have to pay you to do anything he desires. You’d have dropped on your knees in the middle of this club if that’s what he wanted. And little did you know, that’s close to what he needed your assistance for in the first place.

With a hefty transaction and a few drinks, you’re walking arm in arm with Jack to the hotel he rented a room in. You feel like a celebrity. A devilishly handsome man on your right, paparazzi on your left, and thousands in cash sitting nice and pretty in your purse. You just hope he’s a decent lay. You haven’t had one of those in awhile. Most of the men you’ve worked with didn’t even make you cum, always left you high and dry. But, the cash they guaranteed was worth the disappointment.

He walks up to the lobby desk and asks for his key card. As the lobbyist searches for the correct one labeled “Benjamin” your gaze drifts. This place is nice to say the least. It’s sleek and mature. A complete contrast to the man next you with his bright eyes and plush face.

After acquiring the card that’ll seal your fate for a one night stand, you both make your way to the elevator. You decide to make the first move once the doors close. Your sexual attraction getting the best of you. As the numbers ticked up, you turn to face the Adonis. You fist his jacket between your hands to pull him in close and whisper low in his ear, “Ya know, Jack,” you let your lips graze his ear with each word you speak, “I really hope you live up to that title you carry.”

Your hand rubs down, starting at his chest and snaking its way down his toned stomach to cup his dick through his pants. Jack’s breath hitches as you languidly palm him. Little shocks of pleasure spike across his spine. He’s a bit taken back from this forwardness you possess. No one ever showed a dominant side with him. He’s the one always in control. And he’s keeping it that way.

He runs his large hands along your curves causing you to lean into him even more before he takes your hand off him and retches your arm back. You’re spun around with such force that your mouth hangs open in shock. He roughly pulls you against him, trapping your aching arm between your back and his firm body. 

“Listen real close, baby.” he spits, words laced with venom. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m the one in charge. So, be a good little whore and keep it in your panties until we get to the room.”

The elevator dings and he lets you go, only to grab your hand and practically drag you to the suite. You take note of the wetness that’s pooled in the flimsy fabric between your legs from the little altercation. This little playboy has a rough side, and you can’t wait to see just how rough he can get.

His slender, ringed fingers put the key card to the scanner until the light turns green and you're swept away into the most luxurious room you’ve ever stepped foot in. Dull lights make the blue hues and black tones even that much more alluring. A giant mirror hangs above a bed fit for a prince and the large windows show the city in all its glory. 

Jack stalks over towards the window sitting in the middle of the large room. He sees men with cameras still mingling about below trying to get some shots of him and his latest conquest. He’ll give these sleazy excuses of people the shots they desire and more.

You shed your coat and purse before making your way towards the hulking figure near the window. You can tell something plagues his mind. It’s not hard to sense when he looks like a lost puppy in the moon’s hue. 

He glances at you as he moves to stand behind you. He pulls you in close by your waist and brushes your hair away from your neck. His fingers are so feather like you almost couldn’t register them. His lips though, you can feel them just fine as they pepper kisses and bites along your neck.

“City’s beautiful isn’t it?” he asks in between his sucking and biting. Creating little patch works of art across the expanse of your skin.

You’re in a trance and all you can do is hum in agreement. The feeling of his hands groping the soft flesh of your hips and his lips dragging along the base of your neck has you silently enjoying the attention. The only sounds coming from you are whimpers and breathy moans.

It’s a symphony to Jack’s ears. He finds your sounds more beautiful than anything Haydn conducted. He may just want sex, but he knows how to appreciate the beauty he finds in the people he beds. He might be an asshole, but he’s an asshole with a taste for the human form.

He places your hands against the window and kicks your legs apart. “What’re you doing?” you ask in slight concern. 

As he’s making quick work of discarding his clothes he simply states, “I’m going to fuck you while the city watches.”

What? You couldn’t have heard him right. There’s people down there that could easily see, there’s a million dollar mattress made for a rough fucking. A window is not what you wanted. But, what you want doesn’t matter in your profession and it certainly doesn’t matter to the prince as he pushes his naked body against your clothed one, trapping you against the cold glass.

He hikes your dress up past your hips and stares at the pretty lace thong sitting between your full ass. He grabs at the flesh, pawing and kneading before landing a harsh slap. You jerk against the glass and you feel the sting go straight to your core. 

The cool metal of his rings soothe over the places he strikes, easing the burn. His cock is leaking at the site of you spread out for him and the whole world to see.

“You see all the cameras below us, baby?” he asks while rutting his aching member against you. You can feel his precum sticking to your skin. He reaches around your body and pulls your breasts from the confines of the sparkling material of your dress. He starts treating your chest like he did your ass just moments ago. His rings catch your nipple with each grope of your chest making you mewl and arch back against him.

“Make sure to smile pretty, cause you’re going to show them how good I fuck this cunt.”

He rips your panties down your legs and stands between them. You’re soaked for him. And the thought of people watching as he uses you makes you even more wet. You feel him rub his dick through your sticky folds. He bumps your clit a few times and your legs shake with each pass of his bulbous tip against your bundle of nerves. 

He slowly pushes in. Your walls welcome him as he bottoms out with ease and you're both letting out pleasured groans. “Oh, fuck.” you gasp. The feeling of his thick cock resting inside you makes your eyes roll in the back of your head. He’s almost hurting you with his size. And so, you try to scoot up a bit to relieve the ache he’s creating.

He grabs your throat, jerking you back up to him. You let out a pained cry. You’re trying to adjust, truly, but he isn’t helping you. 

“Nuh uh.” he growls. “You’re going to take what I give you, slut.”

The bit of gentleness he showed you was just the calm before the storm. He forces your face against the window and starts to thrust in and out. His pace is hard and rough. His grip on your scalp helps with leverage. He knows you’re enjoying the stroke of his dick with the screams you let out and the way your pussy is pulsing around him. 

“God, how is a whore this tight?”  he leans in towards your face, taking in the sickly sweet fragrance you adorn and pants against your neck, “You like being watched don’t you, my dirty girl? I know you do because this,” he lands a smack against your pulsing cunt, “is milking me.”

You let the degrading words help you towards your climax. He’s hitting that spot inside you just right. His balls are hitting your clit with each sharp snap of his hips and it’s all too much. You can barely hold yourself up, the only anchor you have is his firm hold across your stomach. 

You both notice the flash of the cameras going off, but it doesn't faze you, you both love it. It makes both of your senses heightened. The thought of these pictures plastered on every magazine and news station has Jack gripping your hair even harder and driving into with such force you fear the glass may crack.

“Jack,” you cry. “Oh, fuck right there. Harder.”

He slaps a hand over your mouth to silence your pleas. “Shut up, bitch.” 

He forces your head back and the new angle your body creates has tears welling up in your eyes. The pleasure he’s giving you is borderline painful. But, his tight grip across your mouth and the delicious force of his dick has you wanting more.

 Jack can tell you’re getting close because it’s getting harder to pull out of your tightness. He takes his hand that's in your hair and braces it against your hip, making you fuck yourself against him. 

“You wanna cum, baby? Go ahead. Show em’ how this cunt swallows me up.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. You scream behind the palm of his hand. You can’t seem to catch your breath, your lungs ache from the air he’s keeping you from. You’re practically lifeless as he fucks up into you, chasing his own release. 

“Shit...” he gasps. The vice-like grip you have on him has him snapping his hips against you faster. Jack feels his lower stomach tighten and his balls constrict before he pulls out and finishes on your lower back, just below the bunched up fabric. He takes a moment to admire the mess he created on you. He’s sure his plan of fucking a woman so openly will diminish any doubts about him and who he beds. 

He pulls on his underwear and makes his way to the bar occupying the corner of the room to make himself a drink. You take a moment to catch your breath and drag your body from the condensed window pain. Your hair is wild, makeup smeared, and you have cum stuck to your thighs and back. You feel more used than usual. But, this prick just gave you the best orgasm of your life and you’d do it all over again.

You straighten yourself up as much as you can before turning around and being met with a steely, blue gaze. “Congrats, sweetheart.” he smirks, taking a drink from whatever concoction he created, smacking his lips. “You’re a star.”

[troubatrain]

set it up - a. beauvillier

a/n: i started this idk 9000 years ago with three different hockey boys but i’ve never written for tito and this could be 6k words of absolute garbage but i think you guys will like it?? it was inspired when i watching the Netflix movie Set It Up, which I absolutely love because who doesn’t love a romcom. I wanna thank @nazdaddy​ for giving it a quick read like halfway through to hype me up you’re a real one!!

You felt sick.

Your feet hurt, your head was pounding and you were absolutely soaked. It started in the morning, waking up late for and having to sacrifice your morning coffee so your boss wouldn’t kill you. Then there was the workday from hell, skipping lunch to work on a project because your boss’s son had a brain the size of a raisin. By the time five rolled around, a storm had sweeped into New York, soaking the city streets on a day when you didn’t have an umbrella on hand. The subway packed, and by the time you’d gotten back to your apartment you were absolutely exhausted. You were looking forward to a night in, a glass of wine and ordering take out.

Then you were met with the sight of a pink scrunchie, sparkling against your door and stopping you dead in your tracks.

Rose was your best friend, and that was the sole reason why you haven’t murdered her yet. You’d lived with Rose since you were freshman in college, randomly paired up as roommates and you got lucky she turned out to be your friend. In all of those years, she’d been with the same guy who she met approximately four hours after you moved into your dorm. Cam was great, until one day he just wasn’t. Rose still didn’t know what happened, but after grieving the longest relationship she’d ever been in for months, she was finally ready to start dating again. Turns out, dating again, was going to ruin your life.

You furrow your eyebrows, rubbing your hand over your eyes and trying to remember if she mentioned having anyone over. You open your phone, remembering how you turned on do not disturb sometime after she sent you her tenth meme of the day while you were working your ass off.

Having Kyle over for dinner - among other things, can you stay out for a bit?

You lean your head back, letting out a small scream in frustration. You hear a laugh behind you, and you turn around to be met by your neighbor. Anthony Beauvillier was an okay neighbor. He was quiet, usually giving you some sort of heads up that he’d been having a party which was rare. You knew he was gone most of the time because of hockey, but you never cared to ask any questions further than that. One thing you did notice about your neighbor, was just how handsome he looked in a suit on the rare occasion you caught him in the elevator.

“You okay?” Anthony asks, turning his head to the side, “Are you locked out?”

“No,” You sigh, debating whether or not you really needed to drop this on him, “Rose has a friend over, and I missed her text to tell me to stay out.”

“But you’re soaked,” Anthony points out, pointing to the water that was dripping off of you, “Come by me.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that, I’ll just-” You start to decline his invite, but his eyes were kind while they were staring at you, an amused smile on his face.

“C’mon Y/N, I’ll get you some dry clothes,” Anthony smiles, opening up his apartment door and insisting you came in, “And I’m not going to cook all of this for myself.”

Anthony holds up the grocery bags in his hand, soft eyes and a smile to match staring back at you. You nod, taking the invitation inside because it beat sloshing around in your heels, “Thanks Anthony.”

“You can call me Beau if you want,” Anthony shrugs, pointing down the hallway of the apartment that was identical to yours, “My rooms down there take whatever you want.”

Anthony moves around his kitchen, his mind wandering about why he felt compelled to invite her neighbor inside. Really he felt bad, you looked like you were having an awful day and getting sexiled from your own apartment probably would have been enough to break you. Anthony was tired too, his body was sore from a rough practice earlier that day. Not to mention the team was on a five game losing streak and while Anthony knew he could be doing more himself, he knew Mat wasn’t playing up to usual standards either.

Mat was a mess, and it was starting to drive Anthony absolutely crazy. He thought he was in love, a random girl he followed on Instagram who he took out a few times. Mat thought it was something, turns out she thought it was something casual. Now, his usual cocky and charismatic best friend was just a sad shell of himself. Selfishly, Anthony wanted him to get over it because if he did then they’d probably win a few more games and Trotz wouldn’t have them skate until someone threw up.

Then it hit him, the second you walked back into the kitchen with his clothes hanging off your frame while you pulled your hair back an idea came to Anthony’s head. If you wanted peace and quiet, he could give it to you, “Does Rose do this a lot?”

“Lately,” You sigh, sitting at the barstool next to the island, “Her boyfriend broke up with and after she cried for a few months she decided to be single and that’s ruining my life.”

“What if I could help?” Anthony asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“You don’t need to let me into your place because Rose is-” You go to tell him no - whatever idea he had couldn’t be a fix all solution for your current problem.

“My teammate Mat, he’s single, and honestly sad, but he does have his own place where Rose can spend all her time…” Anthony suggests, dragging out his last words to give you a minute to think.

“What if they don’t even like each other?” You ask, stating what you thought should be the obvious.

“We’ll just set them up on a few dates, I’ll give Mat advice that you give me and it’ll all work out,” Anthony argues back, “We’re in complete control here.”

“But then it’s not real,” You remind him, that if you told Mat exactly how to date Rose it wouldn’t be Mat dating Rose at all.

“Does it matter?” Anthony asks, “You get a quiet apartment and my team gets a few wins, “What's the harm?”

“The harm is our friend's feelings,” You say, your hands in the air while you continued to talk. You were stopped by a ding on your phone, a text from Rose giving you a fair warning that her friend was staying over. You roll your eyes, “You know what - fine.”

“Really? You’re in?”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

***

You didn’t know why Anthony had you meeting him at the coffee shop just a few blocks away from your building, but judging by the all black outfit he was sporting, something told you that it was because he was taking this set up thing too seriously.

“Are we spies now?” You ask, slipping into the chair and crossing your arms, “Because if we are you aren’t doing a very good job.”

“I’m not doing a good job? You’re wearing yellow,” Anthony says, “You could not be any more obvious.”

“Whatever, when’s Mat going to get here?” You ask, grabbing the coffee Anthony had waiting for you.

The plan was simple, Anthony knew that Mat knew who Rose was to some capacity, because Mat had told his friend on more than one occasion about how hot his neighbors were. So, you were both going to force them to actually speak to each other. Anthony suggested just telling them that you were setting them up on a date, but you insisted that if this was going to work they would have to think this happened without the will of the two of you. So you both invited them to the same place, and after you both conveniently miss your plans they would have to run into eachother.

“He should be here soon, I tipped the barista $40 to mix up their coffees and let us watch from their kitchen,” Anthony explains, holding up to his end of the plan, “Which by the way, was way more than I think they would have taken.”

“Oh I’m sure you’ll be okay,” You roll your eyes, reminding him that you were living with Rose to keep your rent down while Anthony could live alone comfortably, “Shit, I see them.”

You both got up, sneaking into the back where the barista who was working just shook her head at the two of you. You peek out, watching the scene unfold in front of you. Anthony wraps his arm around your chest, pulling you back into him, “I swear if you get caught.”

You try to push the thought about how good Anthony smelled, or how nice his arm felt around you while you tried to focus on Rose who just grabbed Mat’s coffee by accident. Mat tells her it’s his, a joke about how familiar she looked following shortly after. Their conversation was brief, and for a minute you thought maybe it wasn’t going to work. Then you saw Mat slip his phone out of his pocket, holding it out for Rose to take.

“Oh my god, it’s working,” You exclaim, Anthony’s hand flying over your mouth immediately. He mumbled something in French, and there was no way you were going to be able to make it out. Anthony’s phone dings, and he pulls it out to show a text from Mat sent promptly after Rose was out of the cafe.

I think I just asked your neighbor out.

Anthony was beaming, pulling his hand off your mouth while you both watched Mat leave the shop, “This date needs to be perfect.”

“It will be as long as you listen to me,” You say, turning around to cross your arms at him, “Because if this is going to work-”

“You almost blew our cover, I’m in charge here,” Anthony scoffs, “You’re like the worst sidekick in the world.”

“You’re the sidekick here.”

“No it’s you, you’re Robin and I’m Batman.”

***

“Here?”

“No.”

“How about this one?”

“God, no she hates seafood.”

You’d been trying to figure out where you were going to set up Mat and Rose’s first date for hours. Every restaurant Anthony mentioned just wasn’t enough, and Mat was dying for some help from his friend. Anthony was frustrated, mostly with you for not just choosing something and calling it a day.

“This is why you’re single, by the way, because these places are just meh,” You argue, pulling his laptop from his hands, “Where’s the romance?”

“I’ll have you know I’m very romantic,” Anthony scoffs, not having any of your shit, “Ask any girl I’ve ever dated.”

“Seems like they’re all gone, wonder why,” You hum, scrolling through the Google search.

“Fine, how about this? He takes her to a show because you said she loves musicals,” Anthony suggests, pulling the laptop from your hands, “After Mat sets up a dinner by his place because he’s got a sick rooftop and if all goes to plan Rose will be there all night.”

You whip your head around to look at the man next to you, a grin on his face because he very well may have nailed it when it came to a first date. It was simple, yet fancy enough to keep Rose interested, “That just might work.”

You kept your mouth closed about why keeping Rose out all night was going to work for you. You had a date with someone you matched with on Hinge who seemed nice enough and the opportunity to take him home at the end of the night didn’t seem like a bad move. You didn’t want to let that information slip to Anthony, and you didn’t know why. You didn’t like him, and you were pretty positive he was only putting up with you because you were both trying to set Mat and Rose up.

“It’s a date then?” Anthony asks, pulling out his phone to give Mat all the details about the date he should be taking his neighbor on. Anthony made it clear to Mat he’d know, despite the fact that before the other night Anthony hadn’t had so much as a conversation with Rose or yourself. However, he had you and you knew Rose better than anyone.

***

You sat across from your date, twirling the glass of wine in your hand while he talked about his family. Ben was nice, and honestly you were enjoying his company. The restaurant was almost perfect, because knowing it made your rejection list for Mat and Rose’s first date location wasn’t something you could shake. Ben had to be oblivious to it, a delighted smile on his face from across you. Your phone rang on the table, and Anthony’s number popped up for the third time that evening. You knew Rose and Mat were well into their date at this point, and you had the night planned so perfectly nothing could possibly go wrong.

“You can take that if you need to,” Ben suggests, a gentle tone to his voice. You nod, feeling a little bad for stepping away from your conversation to answer the call.

“I’m on a date,” You grit out the second you were out of Ben’s earshot, “Someone better be dead Beau.”

“We’re about to be,” Anthony huffs out, “The chef Mat hired canceled and I have all of these ingredients and I know how to cook three things and they aren’t steak.”

“Beau,” You whisper harshly, “Figure. It. Out.”

“Absolutely not, if this tanks you’re coming down with me,” Anthony begs, “Please come to Mat’s and help me.”

So you did. You loved Rose too much to let this blow up in your face because of Anthony’s inability to cook a meal. Ben was understanding, accepting the excuse that you weren’t feeling well and even offering to pay for your cab back home. You declined, because you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had to bail out Anthony.

By the time you finally got to Mat’s, you could hear a string of curses on the other side of the door and the smell of something burning. You walked in and a pan was practically on fire while Anthony turned around frantically.

“Oh my god, move,” You demand, grabbing the pan and turning down the stove, “You really can’t cook anything?”

Anthony was dumbfounded, standing in Mat’s kitchen letting his eyes wander down your bare legs. You looked good and if you weren’t about to chew him out Anthony might have said something. But you were standing in front of him, arms crossed while you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t you sighed, pushing him out of the way and getting to work.

“Make yourself useful and set the damn table,” You demand, pointing a spatula in his direction. This dinner had to be perfect if this was going to work. You relished in the silence, getting to work on the dinner that you were left to save.

“So how was your date?” You hear Anthony’s voice float back into the apartment, and you turn around to give him a dirty look, “Or did I ruin that?”

“You didn’t totally ruin it, Ben was nice,” You shrug, not really wanting to get into it. The thing was, Ben was nice and that seemed to be a rare thing to find. Sure, you could have done without the boring work talk, but it was better than some of the other dates you’d been on lately.

“Hm, just nice?” Anthony stifles a a laugh, closing his mouth immediately when your eyes narrowed at him, “Sorry. I’ll leave probably boring but nice Ben alone.”

“I used to think you were nice, you know?” You snark back, plating the dinner just as Mat slipped in to grab the food.

“Dude you’re a lifesaver,” Mat immediately thanks Anthony and you had to roll your eyes at the sigh, “Wait aren’t you-”

“Rose’s roommate, uh yeah, she cooks all the time so I called her,” Anthony rushes to explain, the idea that Mat would recognize you going right over his head in a panic.

“Well, thanks you guys really saved my ass,” Mat says, grabbing two plates and heading up to the roof where you knew Rose was probably checking her teeth in nervous panic. 

It took forever to clean up the kitchen, Anthony’s sad initial attempt to cook was disastrous. You probably didn’t help, and by the time you were done cooking you had used every pan in Mat’s apartment. You could hear Rose’s voice in the hall and you both looked at each other in a panic. Anthony grabbed your hand, pulling you into the nearest closet to the kitchen.

“Quiet,” Anthony whispers, your mind far too distracted by your head pressed against his chest to care about just how small this closet was. You were trying to steady your own breathing, the closet was small and when Anthony took up most of the space you could feel a bit of anxiety creeping in. You wrap your arms around his waist, your fingers digging into his sides to grab a hold of quite literally anything. Anthony can feel it, how nervous you were so he took a chance and carded his fingers through your hair in an attempt to calm you down just a little bit, “Just wait until they’re in his room and I’ll take us home I promise.”

You nodded against his chest, closing your eyes and just letting Anthony provide you with any comfort he was willing to give. He was a bit snarky and definitely a little too bossy but he was the best you were going to get for the moment. You hear a door click and with Rose’s giggle on the other side you knew you were in the clear.

“So you really went through all of this just for a few wins?” You break the silence in Anthony’s car, looking out the window while he drove you both home.

“I mean, yeah, when Mat plays his best so do the rest of us,” Anthony shrugs, “Don’t tell me I could be playing better, I’ve heard it enough.”

“I wasn’t going to,” You defend, your voice small, “Do you think we could get them away for a night next weekend?”

“Hot date? Boring Ben doesn’t seem like he’d sleep over until the third date,” Anthony jokes, tapping you on the thigh.

“Sort of, I have my boss’s birthday party and I just want him to hate me less,” You admit, plus the office gossip always seemed to revolve around the fact that you never brought a date anywhere.

“I think you’re impossible to hate, trust me I’ve been trying.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

***

Everything was going wrong, like very wrong. The bigger plan was actually going the way it was supposed to, Rose and Mat were off to an Airbnb in the Hamptons for a night that Anthony just happened to mention to Mat during practice the day after you cooked them that dinner. That, however, was the only thing going well for you. You were dressed up, the black dress you were wearing looked absolutely killer on you. Your leg was poking out of the slit that was appropriate for a work event and the date you were supposed to be on, but your date was nowhere to be seen. Turns out Boring Ben wasn’t boring at all, or he was just a total douche and you never realized. Regardless, you were dateless yet again, and you had to admit it was a bit of an ego killer too. You thought about not going, but after telling a few of your coworkers that not only were you going, you were bringing a date.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for the passive aggressive comments from the newlyweds who seemed to litter your office. You had ten wedding invitations last summer from your coworkers alone, and now you had to show up dateless for what felt like the millionth time in your life.

“Woah,” You hear Anthony’s voice as soon as the elevator opened, a low whistle escaping from his lips until he realized you were without your date, “Where’s that Ben dude?”

“He didn’t show if you really need to know,” You complain and Anthony could feel his heart break just a little.

Anthony sighs, taking a look at his watch and then back at you. You looked hurt, despite the smile plastered on your face that he could see right through. He was going to have a night in, maybe even invite over the girl he’d been hooking up with but in his heart he knew what the right thing to do was, “Give me five minutes to change?”

“No Beau you really don’t have to come, I got stood up, it's on me,” You rush out, stopping Anthony dead in his tracks.

“It’s not your fault that dude was an asshole,” Anthony scoffs, “And you look too good to not have a date.”

Anthony didn’t say another word, unlocking the door to his place and coming back out less than five minutes later in a freshly pressed suit, “No tie okay?”

“No tie is fine,” You squeaked out, watching Anthony fix the cuffs of his shirt. Everyone thinks a man putting on a suit is hot right? It wasn’t just that he looked damn good in it, “You can still back out.”

Anthony didn’t back out, in fact, he was a better date than you thought he could be. He was being a good sport, especially when you came to the realization your boss was a huge Islanders fan. He had Anthony by his side all night, no doubt pestering him about the season. You felt awful, and while Anthony had a smile on his face you couldn’t help but feel guilty for putting him in the situation in the first place.

“I met that boyfriend of yours,” Your coworker Stella says, nudging you with her elbow, “He seems like a keeper.”

“Oh he’s-” You went to deny any indication that Anthony was your boyfriend but you knew Stella better than that, and just like she did at everyone Monday morning team meeting, she was interrupting you before you had a chance to finish your sentence.

“And don’t even tell me it’s not serious he couldn’t stop talking about you,” Stella grabs your arm, and you raise your eyebrows and look at Anthony. He catches your eye, sending you a wink while he goes back to listening to whatever your boss was rambling about, “See? So cute.”

The night was going smoothly, and by the time dinner rolled around you were done for the night. One too many glasses of wine had your head resting on Anthony’s shoulder while your boss's wife made a toast. His hand was resting on the exposed skin on your thigh and if you weren’t convinced you were overthinking it - you may have thought Anthony was putting in a little more effort.

“I’m sorry my boss was chewing your ear off,” You whisper, catching Anthony’s attention, “I don’t want you to think I brought you because you’re you and he likes your team.”

“I don’t think that,” Anthony assures you, his lips just inches away from kissing on the forehead, “And he doesn’t hate you, he told me liked you.”

“He likes you, seems like everyone does,” You muse, after having gotten compliments all night about what a joy your boyfriend was you were sure Anthony was a better date than he was an actual companion.

“Better date than Ben?” Anthony asks, and you nod with a grin on your face.

Anthony wasn’t sure what he was doing or why. In the short time since he invited you into his place he only learned how annoying you can be, but he’d be a liar if he didn’t think it was cute. It was cute that you thought Mat and Rose could actually fall in love. It was cute that you never kept quiet when you were both sneaking around because something got you excited. And it was downright adorable to watch you laugh at your boss’s wife who was teasing her husband in her speech. He liked you, and he never thought about it until he saw the heartbroken look on your face when you told him your date stood you up.

“Ready to go home?” Anthony whispers, your eyes were getting heavier from the wine, and he wasn’t sure how much longer you would hold up until you fell asleep on his shoulder. Not that Anthony would have minded at all, he might even have preferred it.

By the time you’d gotten back to your apartment building, you made it clear why you limited yourself on wine at events. Anthony kept refilling your glass before you had a chance to stop him, and now he was practically chasing you down the hall because you insisted on running away for no reason at all.

“For a professional athlete you’re pretty slow,” You poke Anthony in the chest, who was currently fishing through your purse for your set of keys. He finally finds them turning them into the lock and opening the door, “Beauuuu.”

“Yes?” Anthony asks, grabbing your waist while you tripped over your heels.

“Do you think Mat really likes Rose?” You ask, the question wasn’t really for Anthony at all. It was coming from a guilty feeling that had been stewing inside of you for a few days. Rose seemed smitten, and a part of you knew a lot of those dates were just planned by you.

“He does, it’ll all work out,” Anthony assures you, because the frown on your face told him that if he didn’t he was about to have a crying Y/N on his hands and he didn’t want to be the one to make you cry.

“Promise?” You ask, finally slipping off your heels and leaning against the doorframe. You wanted him to stay, use the age old it’s late excuse for a few more hours where he was close to you. His apartment was across the hall, and asking him to stay would be silly. You watched him head out the door, turning around to give you one more look and answer your question.

“Yeah I promise.”

***

This entire thing had gotten out of hand, and Rose and Mat’s relationship was becoming a chore. You had stopped them from killing each other twice in the past week, texting Anthony almost exact directions on how Mat was going to fix whatever stupid he said. Mat didn’t know, or maybe he did and he didn’t care to say anything about how with your help his relationship with Rose would be over before it started. Now, you were hiking across the city for flowers so Mat could apologize to Rose for forgetting her mother’s name as if she didn’t talk about her family constantly. You finally got them to Mat’s wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead when a text came that rocked your world.

I think I love Mat, he literally had these delivered after I got mad at him.

Attached was a picture of the flowers, and a guilty feeling churned in your stomach while you made your way back to your place. You stopped in the hallway, looking at Anthony’s door biting your lip and thinking about what the consequences of this all really was - and it was eating at you.

You were fucked, completely and utterly fucked. It seemed wrong, like everything in your best friend’s love life was a lie you created because it was. So you panicked, and snuck away to Anthony’s without a second thought. You knocked twice, a sleepy hockey player appearing on the other side. 

“Rose is in love with Mat,” You state, pushing Anthony into his own place and walking past him.

“Isn’t that what we wanted?” Anthony asks, watching you pace through his apartment.

“It’s not real, everything Mat knows about Rose is because you told him,” You explain, stopping in the middle of the room, “We planned their dates, we did everything, and when they realize they might not as much in common as they think Rose is going to be heartbroken and-”

“So, you got what you wanted? She’s always over there,” Anthony counters back, not mentioning the hot streak his teammate was on.

“You don’t see anything with this?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the man you thought you knew in front of you, “That your friend is going to be with someone when their relationship is built on a lie.”

“You act like he’s going to marry her,” Anthony groans, not even realizing until after the words left his mouth about how awful that sounded. Your jaw had dropped, your eyes wide while you look at Anthony, “Wait Y/N-”

“I’m telling them the truth,” You say, a stoic robotic tone to your voice. You thought about telling Rose just minutes before you left your place, but you stopped yourself before you ratted out your friend. Now, it seemed like it didn’t matter. Anthony was going to be a selfish asshole regardless of what you did and you weren’t going to let that sham of a relationship continue, “I shouldn’t have listened to your stupid idea to begin with.”

***

You walked out of Anthony’s life after that, and in the week that’s passed since, he was miserable. He didn’t know what you told Rose, but he definitely heard the arguing you were having with her from across the hall. He knew he should have stepped in, but the way you looked at him when you left was the only reason he didn’t. You looked at him with such disdain, like the mere indication that he didn’t care about his own friend’s feelings were the most awful thing he could have done.

Maybe it was, either way the guilt was eating Anthony alive. He called, but you never picked up. He texted you, using some dumb excuse about needing to grab a package outside his door while he on a road trip but an answer never came. Hell, he even tried to email you. The only thing left to do was walk across the hall and knock on your door, if you were even still there.

“Dude you’re doing it again,” Mat says, tossing a chip at his teammate and catching Anthony’s attention, “Just go over there and apologize.”

“Did you apologize to Rose?” Anthony huffs, annoyed with Mat’s attempt at giving him any advice.

“I didn’t have to because this was your fault,” Mat explains, reminding Anthony of exactly what happened after you left his place. You told Rose everything, and after what Anthony heard as a nasty fight - Rose and Mat spilt up once they realize they actually had nothing in common, “And fuck you dude because I still apologized to Rose after that.”

“Fine, I’ll go over,” Anthony budges, stomping out of his own place and across the hall to yours. He knocked twice, hearing some shuffling on the other end. The door finally clicked open, and when Anthony was met with Rose’s face, his shoulders slumped.

“She’s not here,” Rose leans against the doorway, her arms crossed at Anthony, “We’re, uh, taking some time away from each other.”

“This wasn’t Y/N’s fault it was mine,” Anthony rushes to explain, the reality of ruining someone's friendship settling in.

“I know it was,” Rose assures him, because she’d forgiven you just three days after you told her the truth. That wasn’t enough for you to come home, because your own guilt was eating you alive, “She feels too bad, and she doesn’t want to see you.”

That was it, Rose’s words were enough to have reality really settle in. Anthony Beauvillier was a massive asshole, and the reason you weren’t back in your own apartment. He did that. He was going to have to live with that guilt. And he didn’t know how to fix it.

***

It had been a month.

You didn’t know why you knew exactly how many days it’s been since you stomped out of Anthony’s apartment and into your own to tell the truth. But, you did know that exactly thirty days prior that’s just what you did. You told Rose everything, from the stupid plan to your own stupid feelings that seemed to

cloud your judgement. She was upset, and she had every right to be. You knew that she could have kicked you out of the apartment and told you to fuck off, and she did. Three days later, a much calmer Rose was on the phone telling you everything was fine and you could come back home.

You didn’t want to, because you knew Anthony was across the hall living his life just the way he had been before you stepped into it. He was going to go out on dates with girls that weren’t you, and go off on road trips for games he needed to play. He could set Mat up with someone else if he really wanted to, but none of those things would ever involve you again. You packed your stuff, and moved into a new place after couch surfing by a few of your friend’s places.

“You’re depressed,” Rose kicks your leg from the other side of your new couch, a movie night to celebrate your new place was in full effect, “I told you I’m not mad about the Mat thing.”

“I know,” You sigh, staring at the glass of fruity pink wine Rose had brought over, “I just-”

“You miss him,” Rose muses, a knowing look on her face, “It was never about Mat and I, it was always using us as an excuse to see each other.”

“It was about you guys at first,” You defend, staring at the blonde across from you who was looking at you intensely.

“He came and looked for you, after a week,” Rose says, holding onto the tidbit of information she’d been saving for almost a month, “I think he wanted to apologize.”

“Well he didn’t so it doesn’t matter anymore,” You snap back, Rose melting back into the couch to avoid being the next stop on your rage tour. You didn’t want to care about Anthony or his stupid biceps again, but you never stopped thinking about him.

***

Anthony wasn’t doing much better, in fact, he was doing a whole lot worse. He felt like shit, he was playing like shit, and he seemed just like Mat was when he came up with that stupid plan. He tried to throw himself into hockey, push his body where it had never gone before because then he wouldn’t have to think about you. He wouldn’t have to think about how much of a romantic you were or how you helped with even if he didn’t deserve. Most importantly, he wouldn’t have to think about how heartbroken you looked when he told you he didn’t want to come clean because it didn’t matter.

Anthony was doing the same thing he’d been doing all month, stalking your social media profiles in an attempt to see if you were doing okay. He knew you moved, and if he wasn’t on the West Coast maybe he would have stopped you. A text from Mat came in, one that had him rolling his eyes.

My rooftop in twenty it’s an emergency.

***

What Anthony didn’t know was that the same text was sent from Rose’s phone to yours just a few minutes prior. You rushed over Mat’s, absolutely terrified about what you could have been walking into. Except, when you got up to the roof there was nothing. No Mat. No Rose. Just yourself and-

“Fuck,” Anthony whispers, opening the rooftop door to reveal you on the otherside. It was just you, standing there just as confused as he was by the cryptic text from his teammate, “Uh Mat texted me to come?”

A grin threatens to break out on your face, just as the gears were starting to shift in Anthony’s. You were being set up, of course not as well as you would have planned, but it was a set up nonetheless.

“You know what they’re doing right?” You ask, breaking the silence. Anthony just nods, running a hand over his face without saying a word, “I’m going to go-”

“No,” Anthony rushes out, grabbing your arm and intertwining his fingers with yours, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry? You made me cry for weeks and almost blew up my longest friendship and all you have to say is sorry?” You questioned him, waiting for Anthony to come up with something better than that.

“What do you want me to say? That I didn’t want to stop doing this because I didn’t want to stop hanging out with you?” Anthony exclaims, “Because that’s the truth. I was being a selfish asshole, and I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I feel awful for what I did to you. I was so scared to come and apologize because you have every right to tell me to go fuck myself and never speak to me again. The problem is, I want to talk to you. I want to listen to you talk about why you were a hopeless romantic, and take you home after you drank too much at a work thing. I-”

Anthony couldn’t finish his rant, because you pressed your lips against his before he had the chance. His hands were on your face, pulling you as closely as he could because he needed this kiss to show you that he wanted you. You finally pulled away, breathless while Anthony’s hands snuck down to your waist. His forehead was against yours, your noses bumping together while he whispered his next words.

“We’re not telling Mat this worked.”

“Oh definitely not, no more set ups?”

“Unless it’s me setting up our first date, consider it a promise.”

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Weak ~ S.R. (part 2)

A/n: A good song for this part is “Grow As We Go” by Ben Platt. Even though I wrote this inspired by “Weak” by AJR, I feel this song works a lot better :) Side note: for some reason I changed POV halfway through but for only one part? And I didn’t want to miss something so I just left it. Just... ignore that lol.

Word Count: 7000+

MASTERLIST

They call me after dark, I don't want no part. My habits, they hold me like a grudge- I promise I won't budge.

"Hey JJ," Y/n greeted as she braced herself in front of the office she now stood in front of.

"Hey." JJ's voice had become quite familiar in their time talking. Prentiss had also given her number, but they didn't talk as much. JJ, Y/n and Penelope had a group chat though and the three of them talked loads. "I heard you start your new job today. You excited?"

Y/n tried not to think about it. The first time she'd walked into the police station she usually worked at she'd had a panic attack, and even when it had gotten better she still couldn't find comfort there anymore. Everyone understood and they'd given her basically worker's comp as she searched for a new job. They'd even helped her out. But it hadn't worked and she couldn't find any other real work there, so she was back in DC. The place wasn't tainted anymore, but Y/n did miss the small town feel. The real problem was that Y/n hadn't told anyone that she had moved back. She'd just told them she'd gotten a job at the diner.

"Very," Y/n lied. "I have to start in a few minutes actually. Mind if I call you tonight?"

"Oh of course," JJ assured. "I thought you started later."

Y/n chuckled. The woman had become a sort of comfort for her. "I appreciate the check up call," she said. "I'll tell you how it went later." JJ agreed and they ended the call and Y/n walked inside. It was as far from Y/n's dream as she could get. Well, maybe now as far from, but it was just a printing store. You came here to get your pictures printed from a  camera, or you faxed them and they printed here. Posters. Invitations. Anything. Y/n wore a polo shirt and khakis. She was going nothing great for this world, but at least she could pay rent.

The day was long and boring. Y/n was glad to be home, but not excited to call JJ about it. She hated lying and this one might require her to do it. She could just tell JJ she was back in town and working literally BLOCKS from everyone else but... then they might ask to hang out and that would bring her around to see Spencer again and that was what she REALLY wanted but also what she even more needed not to happen.

"Hey Y/n!" JJ greeted. "I'm so glad to hear from you."

"Just get off of work?" Y/n asked.

"Just gave Hotch a new case," JJ corrected, sighing. "It's going to be a rough one." She paused. "I kind of wish you were here. We could get coffee while they get ready." She chuckled.

It kind of came out when she said that. "I actually am." A long pause. "I- I couldn't find a job. I lived here before I moved away, so I moved back. Uh. I could meet you somewhere?"

"Sure," JJ said slowly, processing what Y/n had just said.

Y/n planted her face in her hand. "I'll explain over coffee, okay?" JJ agreed and they hung up. Y/n headed out, meeting her at the nearest coffee shop they'd both agreed on. When the two women saw each other, their smiles grew. They hugged and then they parted, went inside, ordered, and got a close by place that would let them talk without possibly missing their order. JJ didn't have a lot of time before they all left. "Did you tell anyone I'm back?"

JJ pursed her lips. "I got the feeling you didn't want anyone to know."

Y/n sighed, covering her face. "I adore you guys, it's nothing like that. I just-" she laughed nervously, feeling her emotions rising. "Did you know that when I was a kid, I wanted to be a cop?" She laughed, looking anywhere but JJ. "I can't even handle one run in with a bad guy, let alone hundreds. Thousands. I'm not-" Y/n cut off. She was about to say 'worthy'. Something she screamed at herself all the time. But she couldn't say that to JJ- that would lead to her finding out about five and a half years ago. "Strong enough." That would work. "And because of that, I quit a job I really loved. Not even that- I just couldn't work there anymore. Quit and fired leave the idea that anyone wanted me to leave." She scoffed at herself. "And now I'm at Shutterfly printing pictures and talking to practically no one ever, standing around and waiting for someone to ask for a picture or a poster or something. I'm-" she huffed.

JJ reached across the table, hand resting against Y/n's arm. "You are not weak." Her words were so firm and sure that Y/n had a hard time finding something to argue. What had she been so sure of a moment ago? "You were kidnapped by a psychopath, Y/n. You were almost killed. That's horrible. Even we struggle with it for a very long time when it happens to us. The only difference is that we're conditioned to it every day of our lives. The fact that it bothers you is a good sign. We're... numb to it. It's really bad actually." She flinches, sighing. "You SHOULD be upset by it."

Taking a breath to stabilize herself, Y/n nodded. "I just... feel pathetic. And I don't want them to see me like this." She stared at the table, tracing her finger along the design. If she was being honest, it was really that she didn't want Reid to see her like this. After all, she'd told JJ just fine. But she wasn't being honest. When she looked up and met JJ's gaze, though, it was clear she didn't have to be. I guess that's what you get when you talk to a professional profiler.

"Okay." Their orders were called and they got them, heading out. "If I can do anything for you, Y/n, you have my number." Y/n nodded, but didn't say anything more. JJ had an odd look in her eyes that made Y/n nervous. "I promise I won't tell him." Neither had to clarify who she was talking. "Promise, okay?" Y/n nodded again and they hugged before JJ headed off to kick some bad guy ass.

Y/n felt terrible watching her go.

- First Person POV -

"You did what?"

"I got you a job here!" She repeated, sounded ecstatic. I felt horrified, and after my tone she continued at a very quick pace, as if to explain herself. "I figure you can get some second hand experience and see if you really are into this sort of thing. I know a lot of people like the idea, but sometimes when they get into this line of work they learn pretty quickly it's not for them. And that's okay. I just- I mean, it's just like your last job. You'll be an assistant; helping with paperwork, keeping this moving and organized and helping everyone go home sooner. We could use another set of eyes watching our backs- Hotch and I try our best, but there's just too many of them, you know?" It was an attempt at a joke, but when I didn't laugh she continued talking. "Plus, working here gives you great insurance. You could put yourself through schooling, for whatever kind of job you find you like most here. You might like to be a technical analysis instead of a field agent, or you might prefer something like my job that allows you limited field or... whatever." JJ had never sounded nervous before, but Y/n hadn't had too much experience in seeing her nervous in a personal situation, rather than seeing her face press or having to keep everything together under pressure. It was kind of endearing. "I thought it would be nice to know what you're getting into before you do it. And..." She hesitated. "We miss you. I haven't told anyone like you asked, but Garcia is dying to meet you and everyone always talk about how much we wish you were around to lighten up the mood like last time we worked with you.” JJ sighed. "Honestly, Garcia tries her best but keeping things light around here is hard, and it's taking a huge toll on her. It would be so helpful if she had someone to bounce off of."

Y/n found herself smiling. If she could really make a difference... I mean, if the job wiped out all of those who did it, who would do the job, right? Someone had to watch the backs of those too busy watching the backs of others.

She would be working Spencer constantly, but she tried not to think about that. She'd barely survived two weeks- how would she manage sharing a career with him? But, how could she turn him down? Wasn't the whole point of pulling herself together and becoming a better person and getting her old habits bated so that Spencer Reid didn't control her life anymore? This was the opportunity she'd been waiting for her whole life. She had no real excuses- she just couldn't let him hold her back from living her life, especially when he wanted to do anything but. She'd almost allowed her awkwardness with him deprive her of really good friends, which would have left her far from where she was now with this job offer. She needed to take charge and get the fuck over herself.

"You know what JJ, I would absolutely love that."

An audible sigh of relief sounded on the other side of the receiver and Y/n chuckled. "I'm so glad to hear that. I... did talk to Hotch because he's the one who hired you, so I may have fibbed a little about not telling ANYONE else- but he's good at keeping secrets, and everyone else will be shocked when you start. Should I brace them or do you want to break that news in person?"

Y/n couldn't help it- she smirked. "How could I turn down such a dramatic entrance?"

"I thought you would say that." Just from the sound of JJ's voice, Y/n could tell both of them had matching curves to their lips. It was that which made Y/n feel so sure that this would be a great thing for her. It wouldn't even be a big deal, beside maybe the initial shock of it all. She just had to not over think it.

-

Walking into a precinct full of people who were trained to pick apart every person they run across until they get into their head and saw their bare soul hadn't been a thought that crossed Y/n's mind until she walked into the room after JJ's rather dramatic and mysterious introduction. All eyes turned to Y/n and she almost died right then and there because the confusion burning in their gazes demanded to be satiated, and it seemed they were trying to answer the questions themselves rather than just asking. Their gaze bore into her, making her uncomfortable and awkward.

"Guys," JJ reminded.

Morgan blinked first. He grinned, standing up and approaching Y/n. "Oh my gosh! I-" he cut off, his arms twitching. "Are you good with hugs?" Y/n nodded wordlessly. When was the last time she'd been hugged? By... Maya. Oh god let's not think about that. Morgan wrapped his arms around her and she let his warmth distract her from dark thoughts. He gave great hugs- it was easy. She'd missed that feeling, goodness.

Prentiss was next. "Okay so I need an explanation here." She was smiling though, and her tone was as light as her hand as she rested it on Y/n's shoulders. She liked how touchy the team was. It was only in that moment that Y/n realized she was hungering for physical touch.

Pushing those thoughts down, Y/n tried to aim a little better for normal. "I kind of lost my last job because every time I went into the... Well, being back there made me kind of..." she motioned with her hands, trying to explain. Her face went red. "It's hard to return to the place you were kidnapped from." She cleared her throat, but there was no judgement from the people around her, just understanding. That made her feel worse. "Well, it turns out that small towns aren't as much my thing when the only other jobs are really menial, so I moved back to Virginia. I lived here my whole life before moving out there." She shrugged. "I was looking for real work and mentioned it to JJ one day since we talk a lot. And she'd amazing, so here I am." Again everyone nodded, but this time they had smiles on their faces and JJ beamed with pride.

"Well," Rossi began, but he was cut off by someone.

"Everyone out of my way!" The crowd beginning to form around me parted for a pretty blonde girl who was... very loud. Not just like voice wise, but with what she wore as well. It made my heart more full. It was almost a relief compared to all the neutral grey and black and the occasional blue or something. "I am Penelope Garcia, and we're going to be spending a lot of time together so I thought I thought I should ask now, how are with sexual humor and platonic flirting because this is like super essential to my personality."

Y/n giggled and everyone seemed to perk up, especially Garcia. "I'm kind of awkward," Y/n admitted. "But you can do whatever you want. As long as you keep that pretty smile on your face."

Everyone's jaw dropped, and Y/n and Garcia both turned red. Y/n blushed because despite what she'd just said she really was awkward. Garcia blushed because after what Y/n had said, she hadn't expected to be flirted with, neither had she been flirted with by such a cute, innocent person. She was used to Derek who was unapologetically sexy. "Oh," the blonde noticed. "We're going to be GREAT friends."

"I really hope so," Y/n gushed sincerely. Everyone seemed to be cheery already, smiles all around.

Then Y/n saw Spencer. He approached slowly, seeming shy as he gently maneuvered through people to get to Y/n. "Hi," he greeted softly upon finally reaching a comfortable distance.

It was suddenly pin drop silent, and the lack of chatter seemed so heavy that Y/n winced, feeling her chest rage against it. "Hello." Y/n cleared her throat, hoping her burning face could be excused by her interaction with Garcia, where it had started. "So. Anything major happening today?"

JJ saw the cry of help and answered the call instantly. "We have a new case."

"Thank god," Spencer whispered, ducking his head and moving away from Y/n. She didn't think he'd meant for her to hear it, and the words hadn't seemed to hurt anyone else, so she let them roll off of her shoulders. He had seemed pretty happy to see her, if a little awkward. It was probably weird to see her so social when she was so stiff with him was all. And after how heavy the air had been, she was relieved to get away from it herself.

Was this going to be how it always was between them?

Goodness she hoped not.

One sip, bad for me; one hit, bad for me; one kiss, bad for me, but I give in so easily. And no thank you is how it should've gone. I should stay strong, but I'm weak, and what's wrong with that?

- third person POV -

"Hey, G," Y/n greeted brightly, two cups of coffee in her hands. It had been a few days on her first case, and already she understood what JJ had meant by Garcia struggling to keep the mood light. The woman hated to frown, let alone be serious, and unfortunately for her the rest of the team was pretty stoic. Thankfully she could bounce off of Morgan, but now that she had Y/n who was as equally positive - if not as high energy - the two women had come up with lots of things to keep each other in good shape. Like dorky nicknames only they used, and being around each other a lot, and sharing food and drink suggestions. Y/n was usually the one to get them since her job made her feel rather useless since she didn't do much to make a difference, but she could reason to herself that keeping Garcia caffeinated was the best thing she could do for the team other than be out there with them directly.

"Hey, Lovergirl," Garcia piped cheerily. Y/n chuckled at the nickname. Ever since her flirting, they'd been nonstop back and forth in a much more innocent way than Garcia was with Morgan. The man and Y/n had jokingly fought over Garcia, but then she had made a joke about how she had two hands and it had ended there. The sort of pure back and forth had let Garcia giving her more innocent nicknames, like Sweetheart and Lovergirl, rather than Chocolate Thunder over there. Someone had asked if they were dating and they'd both fist bumped after having a laughing fit over it. Somewhere along the way Garcia had mumbled, 'Lovergirl wishes' and it had been making Y/n smile ever since. She'd never had a friend like this before and she was basking in it.

Unfortunately, the rest of the team wasn't having as good of a time.

"It's so good to hear your voice." It was Morgan, making Y/n smile even wider.

"Not as good as it is to hear yours," Y/n replied calmly. "How you doing, Batman?"

The smile was obvious in his voice. "Much better now that you're here." Y/n giggled then settled in next to Garcia. They got to business after that. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing you want to know," Garcia sighed. She tried to keep her tone casual but Y/n could tell she also didn't want to talk about it.

"Fair enough. Anything I can do to help the most beautiful woman in the world?" She asked instead. "Give me literally anything, otherwise I have to leave your amazing presence and then where would I be?"

Garcia was grinning again. Y/n felt proud. "There's actually a lot of that footage still left. I got distracted by what you gave me last time. Want to see if you can get anything else?" Y/n nodded, getting to work.

It took a few hours until she found something, but when she did, her heart stopped. She snagged her phone, dialing Reid immediately. He answered on the second ring. "Y/n?" He seemed surprised, but his tone pitched up like he was happy about it too.

Y/n was too preoccupied to think about it. "What the likelihood of winning gambles at chance games?"

"Well what kind of chance gamble? The odds of winning the Lottery are approximately one in fourteen-million, where a person has a one in three million chance of sighting a UFO. Funnily enough, that's almost five times more likely than winning the jackpot. You are more likely to die of a flesh eating disease at one in a million than winning the lottery."

"Spencer?" Y/n smiled to herself, not being able to stop him. He was adorable. She pushed that to the back of her mind, shaking her head to refocus as well as wipe the smile off of her face. "How often do people have a so called winning streak in gambling? Like in casinos." He paused and Y/n's eyebrows together. "Spencer?" And then she realized her mistakes and her eyes widened. "I- uh- Dr. Reid."

He sucked in air before responding in a rasping voice, "Some scientists  actually believe that luck streaks are real, continued by the fact that people just choose safer odds and then keep on that streak every time they... anyway, the point it, based on how smart you are, you could keep winning constantly."

A thought caught in Y/n's mind. "Have you ever lost a gamble?"

His answer was immediate and clueless. "I haven't, no. Why do you ask?"

Y/n tried not to laugh and managed a soft chuckle. "No reason. Uh-" She shook her head again. God, why couldn't she focus?! "I was looking through more of that footage we got where we saw the masked unsub walking in the shadows and looking for someone to kill. Well I was looking through the extra footage the casino gave us- remember the bonus hours they said nothing happened on, but they gave it to us just to give us more hours? To be annoying, because they were mad or whatever?" Spencer hummed. "Well, a man matching the masked attacker's height, weight, and wearing the same suit shows up the next day gambling. For nearly the entire day, and then he goes home with far more money than he came with and he hasn't lost a single game." Y/n paused, biting her lip. "Not even once the whole day."

Garcia's interest has peaked at this point. She's rolls her chair over, eyes scanning the moment Y/n's paused on on the screen. The footage is from an old camera, so Y/n doesn't even know if they can make out his face. But there he is. Facing the camera and everything. "He wore the same suit," she whispers, horrified.

"Do you think he's killing to increase his luck?" Spencer asked hurriedly.

"No," Y/n answered immediately. Only then did she realized he'd asked Garcia, but the blonde was looking at her to explain her answer so she shot off. "The day before, he was agitated. Today, he's calm. Not confident, but completely at peace. It's not like that one case you talked about where a guy went around killing people because he thought it brought him luck. I looked back on feed for that and he was reckless- almost drunk, high on confidence. This man... it's like he got a good night's rest."

Spencer paused. "How do you know about that case?"

"Oh well JJ made a comment about how this one was similar to that one so I got the file and looked into it. We have the footage and everything on file." She shrugged, then saw Garcia's look of shock. "Should... I have not done that?"

"No you're fine," Garcia voiced. "That's just really impressive catch up playing."

Y/n blushed. "I'm just doing my job." She cleared her throat. "I could be wrong, I just wanted your opinion-" she cut off, catching herself for a second. "Reid."

She could feel him nod, rather than see it since they were over the phone. "Thanks Y/n. I'll tell the others."

"Anything for you, Wonderboy," Y/n teased. The line went dead. She felt her stomach twist. She was trying to treat him like she did everyone else, but every flirt hit different when it was directed at him. Even such easily dismissed ones such as the one she'd just delivered. She could feel Garcia's eyes locked on her so Y/n busied herself with her drink until the blonde had to get back to work, boarding on already wasting time they didn't have.

For now, she had escaped questions but every day it got harder as people seem to take everything she said and looked into it so see the truth where she tried to hide it.

God help her.

-

Y/n slipped into the elevator. This case hadn't gone very well, ending with gun shots ringing through Garcia's phone and a long silence of unknowing whether it was for the unsub or for their friends. Turns out, it was a little of both. One for the unsub, one for none other than Dr. Spencer Reid himself. He'd lost a lot of blood before anything could be done and now he was in the hospital and the entire team had had to pry Y/n out of that room and to her house so she could get cleaned up a little after having gone straight from hours in the office, stressing about work, straight to hovering over his bed waiting for him to wake up for just as long.

Now she entered the room again, nodding to a waiting Prentiss. "They told me to come send you outside next." Hotch had been getting them home one by one, as each of the team had been as worried as Y/n. "JJ and Hotch have kids and Morgan's on Garcia duty to make sure she gets some food and rest. Have you eaten yet?" Prentiss stood, shaking her head. "I've got this, and Rossi said he might drop by to keep me company if he can't get to sleep. Please."

"Thank you," Prentiss whispered as she passed Y/n on her way out. There were frown lines on the edges of her eyes and a strain to her smile. "Don't stay too long. Sleeping here can't be good for your back." It was a weak joke- everyone knew the other girl wouldn't leave this room again until he was awake. And he would wake up. Prentiss caught Y/n's hand. "Hey, you know it wasn't your fault right?"

Y/n flinched. She had been the one to give Reid the information about the unsub. Morgan had been a little skeptical of her idea since she wasn't a profiler, and it had put an edge on everyone else too, even Hotch who was obviously trying not to be partial. The truth was though, Derek was more experienced than Y/n was. He was more familiar with the team and had their trust a lot more. They had said something about Reid being partial, but Garcia and JJ had been pretty convinced too. That didn't help Reid when he went the extra mile to prove to everyone Y/n was right though. That he trusted her for a real reason. That there was merit to her words and observations. It didn't help him when he went a different direction than the others because he had a gut feeling and Hotch encouraged him too. It didn't even help when he'd taken JJ with him, since she was the only other person who believed Y/n as much as Spencer did.

It didn't help him when he got shot on Y/n's hunch. Got shot with her on the phone, waiting on baited breath just to hear JJ freaking out on the other end.

It didn't help him now either, as he lay in a hospital bed.

Y/n looked away. "Yeah."

"I'm serious," Prentiss insisted. "At the time, it was fair for us to doubt you. We-" she cut off, choosing better words. "We shouldn't have, because you did your work like the rest of us. But you are new and untrained, so it was fair to have pause at first. But Reid, JJ, and Garcia all backed you up and we should have been there for that. We could all play the blame game. If we’d just listened to Reid and JJ. If we’d believed Garcia. If we had been more open minded about you... But that’s isn’t fair. It's no one's fault but the unsub's."

That was another thing. The man who had put Reid in the hospital was still out there, already all better and heading out to jail. His eyes were open and there had been a smile on his face when he was getting toted off. JJ had told Y/n while she was in shock. He was fine and Reid was in the hospital and Y/n sat there hating the whole thing. "Yeah," she repeated, because she didn't have the energy to fight herself on how she felt versus what she knew to be real.

Prentiss seemed to see that struggle and recognized that she couldn't get through to Y/n anymore than she already had. So she left and Y/n was there alone. She took back her old spot, where she'd been until a few hours ago. Where Prentiss had been sitting before she came back. Now she sat back down again and rested her elbow on the bed. It was itching into late mid morning and Y/n still hadn't slept. Her eyelids were dragging against her, demanding she rest. She tried to fight it, but eventually her head drooped more and more until it fell next to Spencer's limp arm and the world was lost to her as she fell asleep.

There was a sense of being watched that ripped her awake again. Her eyes shot open and her fingers curled around the sheets, her body going rigid. A pair of hands shot out to wrap around her tense fingers, pulling them away from the bed in an attempt to soothe her. She thought it was Rossi for a second until she sat up and looked over to see a weakly smiling but very awake Spencer. Y/n felt her chest shake as she sucked in a relieved breath.

"Hi," he croaked.

"You idiot." Tears were blurring her vision as she held herself back from punching him in the arm. He was hurt enough. "I oughtta sock you."

He laughed. He actually laughed, the ass. "You were right." He got a little more serious, the look in his eyes becoming soft and his smile being filled with pride rather than amusement. "He was about to kill someone when we came in. You saved a life, Y/n. Maybe even more, depending on how long it would have taken us to get him with where we were taking the case. The profile was just wrong enough he might have gotten a few more people before we stopped him."

That made Y/n relax. "I don't forgive you for getting shot."

Spencer's smile widened. "I'll do better next time."

"You better," Y/n warned. "Or I'LL put you in the hospital next time I swear to god Spencer." His eyes twinkled and Y/n swallowed. "Er, Reid."

He chuckled again. "I like when you call me Spencer. JJ does it too. It's nice."

Y/n tried not to internalize that. "Well if this is us becoming friends then I require you to have a personal nickname given to you by yours truly which only I use," Y/n warned him. After what he had done for her, standing up for her, she couldn't think of them as anything else. It was weird, as the words made her anxiety spike. Was she slipping again? Would these things lead to her obsession again? She wouldn't have to stalk him anymore- now she was right by his side, all alone. What if she was taking advantage of that situation? What would happen if he rejected her friendship? What if they got into an argument? What if his sudden interest in her was just that she was the new kid in town and it faded and they became casual acquaintances after a little while? What if... what if he met someone and that smile he wore now was for them instead?

Y/n felt jealousy twist her gut and she tried not to book it out of the room right then and there.

"I would love that."

Her eyes focused back on him and his smile seemed to waver, picking up on her mood change immediately. "Perfect," she whispered, struggling to speak around the sensation that could only be described as feeling like her ribs crushing into her lungs and heart. She had to blend in though. She couldn't be awkward with Spencer. They were already looking too closely at her. She had to stay calm and keep her distance, but not so much that people noticed and started asking questions. This job meant too much to her she had to get it under control. "How do you feel about Pence?" Her fingers fiddled with each other and his eyes caught the moment immediately. She forced the energy to move to her feet instead, softly tapping where he could not see. "Hm?"

Only then did he answer the question, when she tried to pull his attention away from her body language and to what she had said instead. His eyes stayed trained on her, but he offered a casual, "Whatever you want to call me. I've heard you calling Garcia 'G' and I think that's neat. I've never really had a nickname other than Spence."

"You're right," Y/n mumbled, focusing her mind on the task at hand rather than her pathetic need to be as close to Spencer as possible, in every way she was allowed. GOD she was insane. But that wasn't the concern right now. Right now she needed to think about a nickname for Spencer. "That's too similar. What about just Pen?"

His smile returned and Y/n felt herself relax. "Isn't that Penelope's nickname?"

"We don't use it often, and now people have started to gravitate towards G because I'm a genius and it's way cooler." Spencer grinned and Y/n felt her chest squeeze even tighter. He was beautiful... BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT SHE WAS GOING TO FOCUS ON! "I can think of something else-"

"No I love it," Spencer rushed.

It was Y/n's turn to chuckle.  "I may slip into calling you Penny and you can't judge me for that."

Spencer's fingers brushed hers and she yanked her hand away, seizing up. He seemed to have something suddenly foul tasting in his mouth, but he managed, "I wouldn't ever judge you."

Those words. Oh god. She stood. "I'll get the nurses. Tell them you're awake. You need to eat something." She was gone before he could respond, leaving him confused and alone in her awake.

Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that. I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that. I'm weak, but I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that.

"Pick up," Y/n spat through a locked jaw to the ringing tone she was hearing. It had wrung too many times. She had called him so much and he hadn't answered once. She knew she wasn't paying him to be her therapist anymore, but he had said they were friends. To call him if she needed someone who understood to give her encouragement, or just to catch up. Why wasn't he answering?!

"Y/n?"

Relief flooded her body. "Michael." Her tense body relaxed all at once and it was so nice she almost toppled over. Someone stared at her and she waved at them awkwardly before turning away and hoping they minded their own business. "Michael I'm losing my mind."

He was quiet for a second. "Talk to me."

Y/n ran through everything that had happened since that first day in her old office when Spencer and his team had first entered her life for real, all up until the hospital visit a few nights ago and how she had been avoiding him ever since. "It's coming back, Kel. BAD. I can't get him out of my head, and every time he gets anywhere near my body gets all tingly. I DREAMT about him last night. He keeps touching me and it's like I'm getting struck by lighting. And then he said my name and my chest gets all crushed up again and I want to know everything about him and be around him all the time and GOD I'm so scared that I'm going to end up like one of these psychotic unsubs. I don't want to quit. I LOVE my job. But if I'm doing it again-"

"Y/n, take a breath. You're forgetting to breathe when you talk again." She paused, forcing herself to intake and exhale air so her body wouldn't seize up. One time she'd talked so much about Spencer that she'd stopped breathing and had fully passed out. It was pathetic and she hated herself for it, but it had happened. "Now, I need you to really think about these questions before you answer them okay?"

"Okay," Y/n encouraged.

"Have you taken pictures of him without his permission or without him being aware?"

Y/n flinched at the memory of burning the shoe boxes, but was relieved to be able to say, "No."

"Have you followed him anywhere without his permission or without him being aware?"

"No," Y/n confirmed again, a little confused. "I don't have to, we work together."

Michael ignored the comment. "Have you learned personal information about him without his permission or without him being aware?"

"No," Y/n said slowly after thinking about it. She'd learned plenty of things, but she'd avoided it as much as possible for this very reason.

"Have you watched him in anyway without his permission or without him being aware?"

Y/n considered that. "No," she finalized, nodding to herself. "I- well I stare at him sometimes from across the room. Is that bad?"

Michael actually laughed. "Not necessarily." he paused, letting Y/n calm down with that reassurance. "How would you feel if Spencer told you he was dating someone tomorrow?"

That familiar icky gut twist returned as she thought about it. "Terrible." The word was heavy with mourning. It had slipped out immediately without her meaning to say it, so she hadn't been able to even sugar coat the response.

There was a fat pause where Michael was quiet, but he spoke again before Y/n's anxiety could get her to say something or voice her panic. "What about if he showed up with a pet, or a family member that he was close to?"

Well what an odd question. "I wouldn't care."

A smile wrung in Michael's voice when he spoke again. "Does he have someone he's as close to or closer to than you?"

"Well he's really good friends with JJ and Morgan."

"How do you feel about them?"

Y/n frowned. "I really like JJ. She actually got me this job and has been the most helpful in helping me get settled, other than Garcia. But... Morgan seems to have some trepidation about me. He liked me at first but then one day he started to get really short with me and started to try and convince everyone that I'm like not fit for this job or something."

"And that's why only JJ and Spencer went after the unsub, right?"

"Yeah," Y/n agreed. "Why is this important, Kel?"

A short pause this time. "Y/n I don't think you're old tendencies are back." That stunned her.

"But I'm doing all the same things."

"You're actually not," Michael argued. "And even when things overlap, like the watching and getting to know him, it's not for the same reasons. You're naturally forming a relationship rather than living out a fantasy that he's not apart of in reality. Do you remember the last time I asked you about Spencer having a pet or a partner?"

Y/n flinched again, but much worse. "Yeah," she mumbled, covering her face.

"What did you tell me?" Michael asked softly.

Y/n's eyes watered. "I told you they made me angry. That I..." She closed her eyes. "That I wanted to get them out of the way from me being with him."

"And what did you tell me just now when I asked again?" There was regret in his voice, but that was obviously from bringing up the terrible memories of the past. There was something else too. Urgency. He wanted Y/n to understand something, but it seemed to be going over her head.

"Uh... I told you it made me sad."

"Why does it make you sad, Y/n?"

She thought about that. "Because he wouldn't look at me anymore. He gets this really soft look in his eyes when he looks at me. Like I have something important to him but he trusts me with it completely. Or like he admires me or looks up to me. It makes me feel really good about myself." She chuckled sheepishly, wincing. "That's probably silly." She didn't pause before continuing, and Michael didn't try to interrupt her or respond, knowing how she got when she spoke about Spencer. "When he touches me, it's really gently, like I might break or like he's shy. I-" she snorted. "I think that's because he's a germaphobe."

That caught Michael's attention. "He's a germaphobe?"

"Yeah," Y/n sighed. "He won't even shake people's hands, and he washed them a lot when he's stressed. He rarely even accepts hugs from the others so I haven't offered, even when he was in the hospital. But that's also probably because I'm pretty sure I'm literally crazy."

"You're not crazy," Michael said first. Y/n smiled a little. It was very reminiscent of the times he had helped her out of the darkest place she'd ever been. Made her feel safe when she thought she was a walking crime scene waiting to happen. He had been her best friend for so long... why had she stopped calling him? "Y/n?" She hummed, letting him know she was listening. "He refuses handshakes and is afraid of germs and is even hesitant to take hugs from people who are practically his family from what you say, but even though you've guys only really known each other well for a little over a week, he's already willing to touch you?"

Now that he mentioned it, that was rather odd. She hadn't considered it before. "I... yeah, I guess."

The smile was back when he spoke again. "Y/n last time we talked about him, you couldn't even say his name without gripping something so hard your knuckles turned white. Now you talk about him like it's a relief to say it. Before he brought you stress and angst and wanting, but now he brings you peace and happiness and a feeling of belonging. You feel sad at the prospect of losing him in any way, rather than angry. Usually when obsessive people who stalk their targets see them with someone else, they get angry. Normal people get sad."

Y/n tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. Her eyes were wide with fear. A fear that was so different from but still just as bad as the thought of her fears of seeing herself being obsessed with Spencer Reid. Because if she wasn't obsessed... "What are you trying to say?" Her words begged him not to say it.

He did anyway. "Y/n, I don't think you're possessive or obsessed with him." He spoke slowly, every word filling her body with more and more dread. "I think you have feelings for him, but not bad ones. Normal ones. I think you like him, like people like each other. Like, want to date him like him."

"Oh god," Y/n whispered. "I- I'll call you later okay Michael?" He sighed and hummed, so she rushed to explain. "I swear I will. For real this time. I can't thank you for everything you've done for me but-"

"You're panicking," he realized. "I completely understand. Please don't do anything stupid, okay? These feelings are normal and perfectly okay."

"Yeah," Y/n whispered, nodding even though he couldn't see her. They exchanged a tentative farewell and then she lowered her phone, running a hand through her hair. "Well," she whispered, staring at the ground like it was about to open up and swallow her whole. "Guess it's time to quit my job."

-

Tag List: @ajwantsapancake @urie-bowie-mercury

[uwua3]

Hi Bunnie! Your Misumi jealousy headcanon was so so amazing! Would it be okay to request the same hc but for Kazu, Tenma + Taichi? Ty and can't wait to see more from you! 🐰

oh my gosh! thank you so much!!! that makes me so happy to hear you enjoyed it; tbh i was a bit nervous due to the different take on misumi’s more thoughtful, erratic side so i’m glad it wasn’t too ooc! for you, i’d love to do a jealous hc for kazunari, tenma, and taichi! let’s GOOO !!!

summary: everyone gets their heart broken, and you were the cause of their broken hearts

warnings: anxiety, cheating, fake/toxic relationships, heartbreak, unrequited love

author’s note: i hope you enjoy it! thank you so much for your support ♡ this is definitely on the longer side for sure, i hope it’s worth the read!!!

i explored different types of jealousy for each person and how it would affect their daily lives! sometimes, the best thing to do is not act on your impulses. is it really worth losing a relationship with someone over? arguably, the only person with a “happy ending” would be taichi~ fair warning!

word count: 4,799 (total) — 2,078 (kazunari), 1,616 (tenma), 1,105 (taichi)

music: ghost heart – closure (kazunari), shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t – niki, rich brian (tenma), needs – verzache (taichi)

jealousy (pt.1)

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

it was so hard to always thrive off the attention of others when it was exhausting keeping a smile up

sure, kazunari was a burden when he was excited with his nonstop, loud rant about whatever he learned in his liberal arts university... but people seemed to like him even less when he was quiet and contemplative. he was the butt of the joke, so he had to fake it until he made it

he’d rather be the funny jokester of the group and be remembered as the tolerated clown than forgotten completely

kazunari wanted people to come to him, be his friend, and find him important in their life. kazunari wanted to be everyone’s favorite, the #1, the name you’d say when asked who your best friend was

but no one liked him like that. no one looked to him first when a joke was made to check if he was laughing, everyone assumed he was. but it was so much energy to keep this happy go lucky act and it began taking away from his art

envy made up every cell of his being as he saw groups of supportive friends, students congratulated in front of the class, and just happiness in general. kazunari was always jealous, he wanted so much. he wanted someone to be his best friend

and then, you aced the role with no auditions needed. you made the cut, you entered his life as kazunari’s best friend

you made an effort to include him in group activities, responded to his over–the–top DMs with too many emojis, and even amused him with his spontaneous ideas like road trips to the next town over for the hell of it

it didn’t matter if he called you at the crack of dawn, you picked up before the last ring with just as much enthusiasm to go wherever to make lifelong memories

kazunari didn’t have to pretend like he was full of energy around you, because he was! you charged him up to his full battery and he wouldn’t stop moving until he had you to himself for a few hours

at first, it started out by staying a little bit longer after group project meetings, offering to get absolutely buzzed on overpriced hipster coffee he had to perfect as a barista, and exchanging obvious notes in class while getting in trouble for snickering way too loud

then it became seeing premieres of movies kazunari honestly didn’t care about, he just wanted to do the yawn trick without getting made fun of. he liked dramatically fighting over the popcorn with you before pretending to give up, knowing damn well at the end he’d let you have all his snacks. movies became any event possible: single mixers that were just them huddling in a corner planning to make the most memorable exit ever, mall trips that had inappropiate fashion shows in the dressing rooms before getting kicked out, even beach visits year–round and complaining when the temperatures were too extreme but still having the sickest bonfire

all these moments were posted on his private, more personal instagram where his feed would have your face in every row (he also posted the extremely candid shots of you, he was sneaky with his camerawork). everyone with a social media account knew you guys were platonic soulmates, people destined to meet each other and be by their side for every lifetime

it moved into territory like bringing you to his favorite secret hideouts. eventually, it came down to places he knew his other friends would trash and poke fun at. he began trusting you with his most prized places. his safe space that became yours as well

even his art studio rented out at the border of the urban city with a water–damaged wooden floor. you would drop by everytime he didn’t respond to your text within 10 minutes, with plenty of food because you knew kazunari gets into an obsessive state with completing a project in one sitting. he let you in without a second thought even though you had the spare key; now you were lounging upon a thrifted sofa staring at the sunset

golden hour was gorgeous on you, kazunari thought out of no where, shocking him to the core when he nearly dropped his paintbrush onto the plastic covers. get a hold of yourself man! whatever, he always hyped you up, it wasn’t a big deal. it was just usually, intentional

you didn’t seem to notice, scrolling through your phone as your shadow giggled at something on screen. kazunari felt sick (and it wasn’t the cheap takeout), he hated not being in on the joke and getting left out. jealousy brewed at the pit of his stomach as he faked a childish huff to get your attention. you didn’t look over, too busy sending a meme to someone

“whatchu laughing at?” kazunari asked curiously as he resumed painting, to which you fidgeted under his gaze. shrugging nonchalantly, you pocketed your phone that pinged with a notification. the vibration caused you to read the screen immediately without a second thought. huh...

“just some guy.” you offhandedly mentioned, opening some dating app kazunari could pinpoint. he didn’t know you even liked those types of meet–ups, he dropped his brush this time before fumbling to pick it up as cool as possible

pretending to pay attention to the painting, he lost focus as he glanced at your frame. you looked so relaxed, so casual, who were you so close to? you always told him about the few partners you had, this one threw him for a loop

“guy? don’t tell me my best friend is falling in love~!” kazunari quipped, feigning a pose of shock like it was the worst thing he’s ever heard. honestly, maybe it was, or he was a damn good actor and those hours of practice were working. maybe they were if his best friend couldn’t even see past his facade

you blushed at the implication, but didn’t deny it. you just muttered something about having privacy and rolling over to your side, continuing to text at an inhuman speed

kazunari frowned slightly, drawing his eyebrows together as he couldn’t help but steal glances at your backside. usually he got a joke, a confirmation he was basically your boyfriend, and they both hysterically laughed about it at the end of the day. not this time, apparently

this time, it was different. next time he saw you wasn’t sitting next to him in class, or beneath his arm hiding from the scary film on the projector, it was at the café you frequented to see him. except, you were with someone else. kazunari hadn’t seen you in so long, ever since you were caught messaging someone else

you ordered the same thing as always, you didn’t even have to ask before kazunari had it ready for you. but his whole personality was jittery, like he accidentally ate the entire stock of cacao beans raw. he stammered and his tone fell flat, contrasting his lively speech and flair for drama. he looked... overwhelmed

kazunari spilt your date’s drink last second, his chaotic mind barely controlling his limbs as he knocked over the order. as you tried helping him, every customer saw kazunari hide back in the shell he tried so hard to break. he simply shook his head and delivered his customer service monologue about being very sorry and the next one was on the house

there was at least in attempt in sounding cheerful, but coach would’ve definitely cursed him out for his terrible performance. he knew he was showing too much teeth right now and his eyes were too big to be genuine, but he couldn’t do anything else without his foot tapping repetitively

when you shot him concerned side–eyes from their usual table by the window, you looked different in the orange–hued sky. you were gorgeous in golden hour, kazunari bitterly thought as he wiped down the surfaces until he could see his teary eyes staring back with disgust. he was letting his guard down in front of everyone, how lame

he could hear your walls coming down, you becoming attached to the hip with that date of yours as you two became the only customers left. he heard it all, the flirting, the conversations that would definitely lead to you going back to their place with them. he excused himself to his indifferent manager before hiding in the employee stall, sliding his back down against the wall to sit down on the cold tile floor

kazunari found dates boring. all they led to was him getting his unfinished meal in styrofoam boxes and taking an uber to your place to spill what happened like it was a daily struggle. you laughed and laughed, never having stories of your own since kazunari lived through a lifetime of them for the tall tales

kazunari wanted to go back to that, when both of you were single and laughing together about how absolutely dumb committed relationships were. who else would they need besides each other? kazunari remembered asking, knowing all they could trust in was each other forever

but more importantly, maybe kazunari wanted to be more than your best friend. you were the one who cured his constant artist’s blocks with just words of affirmation, the heartfelt gestures making his serotonin levels skyrocket to oblivion before maxing out on the motivation to create anything that would make your efforts worth it

kazunari thought he just did his best with his friends by his side. but, was it normal for friends to feel like this? kazunari began imagining a painting of a figure, of someone that looked like you, except they were so far away and out of his reach. he wanted to jump through the frame and find you, manifest you for him only

no matter what he did, he couldn’t get the face to resemble anything like yours, like you weren’t his to claim creative rights over anymore

kazunari was jealous. jealous of how easily passerbys fell in love with the way you made anyone feel like they were the main character of their own story. kazunari felt stupid, like he was your comic relief sidekick who so desperately would do anything to be your final love interest

alone, kazunari laughed pitifully to himself as he picked his head up to hear your voice through the thin walls. whatever elaborate joke you were playing on him, it wasn’t funny in the slightest

he only wanted you to laugh with him, hell, he’d go make a fool of himself at any time even if meant you laughed at him

you weren’t one of his artworks, yet you were a masterpiece compared to any canvas he could have made in his entire career

kazunari wanted to paint you in all the colors possible, make you see how you were the rainbow after his rainy life

pushing himself up, kazunari stumbled out of the bathroom before shaking his head. it wasn’t worth it, he got what he wanted, didn’t he? you’re still his best friend, you just loved someone else, that’s all. all he ever wanted was a best friend, why wasn’t he satisfied with that?

when would he stop being jealous? (when would he be your #1 boy? he thought against his will)

taking a deep breath to compose himself, kazunari smiled and waved at the new couple. he saw the relief on your face before you resumed the discussion with the most animated expression he hadn’t seen in a long time. he couldn’t even recall when

everything would go back to normal before you became kazunari’s best friend. you would begin hanging out with the other person more, taking them to all kazunari’s best events. you would eventually stop answering his calls because it interfered with the other person’s schedule. you’d have plans outside of him, and kazunari would go back to being by himself. he’d keep going on dates and stay till the end this time, searching for his #1

(he would have to mute your account after seeing your posts with them, but he never told you that)

kazunari heard something other than you. he looked towards the window: it was raining again, again, and again. he opened his smartphone to take a picture:

kaz–PIKO [new post!]: i hope this rain ends soon!!!

it didn’t, at least, not for a very long time

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

tenma was what you would call, gifted. grew up with successful, charistmatic parents who watched his every move like a hawk, never giving him the time to improve from his mistakes

so every time he didn’t immediately get something, he’d give up and find other things to beat others at

the only thing he did that was acceptable to his father was acting, so he never looked back

tenma became a headliner of countless blockbuster movies and walked the red carpet as a fabricated actor with no authenticity

magazines labelled tenma as the playboy with on & off again relationships, although they were staged by his label to make him appear like some heartbreaker

truth was, he’s just like every other high school student who was really bad at focusing on academics (and had definitely not been in a real relationship)

but tenma was famous, fake friends came and went every time his popularity rose, hitting him up for favors. it was okay, he was famous, anyways. it’s not like he needed a bunch of no–bodies

at least, that’s what he told himself every time he sat with his parents at awards banquets with no one to share his success

(tenma was not jealous at all of stars with full rows of people of their friends who were always so loud and supportive)

(it wasn’t awkward going up on stage to receive a trophy with only polite clapping in the background)

you got cast as tenma’s next love interest

you were supposed to be a fake relationship that lasted longer than every other person he’s been with before

you were an up and coming actress full of potential and enthusiasm to boot, ready to take on in the industry like you were the biggest threat around

but it was clear, you loved acting

you loved playing different characters like they were an extension of yourself, paying close attention to other people’s habits so you could incorporate it in your own persona

it was strange—meeting someone who loved acting at its core and didn’t do it for the money. most people wanted their name in lights, drama with them in the middle, to have an adoring fanbase. who actually liked acting as an art form?

tenma was sure you were just hiding something, lying about your sweetheart public image to gain fans

you and tenma became public by having a public brunch date (tenma hated brunch, it was so pointless!) where photographers hid in bushes to take expensive pictures of tenma’s newest girl

tenma at first put on a facade, pretending to be the cocky star everyone made him out to be by flexing his muscles with a charming but practiced wink. why not, right? every girl loved that!

all of a sudden, you were gripping the tablecloth, dying laughing as you tried your best to stifle your outrageous response. tenma grew hot under the collar when it was clear you were very much a real, hard to hide your feelings type person off screen

immediately, he told you off in an aggressive manner but before he could apologize for being so suddenly boyish, you retorted back just as quickly. the friendly banter between you two sent sparks flying from the electric energy

those staged acts didn’t have any effect on you (unless he was in the mood for some serious jokes which he gladly fought back) so a genuine friendship formed

due to you both being competitive at heart, you guys were always caught in a friendly rivalry where you two shared real bonding moments together

your chemistry was off the charts (your managers were both very pleased with the outcome, oblivious to tenma’s defensive no ways!)

tenma’s favorite memory was ditching a panel interview without his parent’s permission to go blow his money on a popular chain arcade im the mall he could most definitely afford with his credit card. it was impulse but he texted you the address and miracously, you showed up on your own

both of you wore the worst disguises possible: snapbacks and funky graphic tee shirts as if you two were just regular students. tenma tried everything that even caught his eye, and you knew he wasn’t entirely happy with anything he got despite winning ten games already

clearly he wasn’t getting distracted enough, something must have happened on set

so you made a bet, whoever won the basketball hoops game would take all the tickets. you knew this would ignite the competitive flame within tenma

“you’re on!” tenma declared, shaking your hand with a firm grip and wolfish grin. that would be one of the last times tenma saw you as “one of the boys”

it was when you finally won against his bruised ego but chose a prize for him that tenma realized, he liked you for you. normally, he’d be showering his fake partner with stuffed animals before being ditched on the street corner, the plastered smiles gone and replaced with nasty annoyance

(he’d never admit it, but even the fake affection was nice while it lasted)

no one really liked him for him, he was just another famous teen actor with passable looks to be the side boyfriend

yet, you still got him something despite winning, giving him the plant and ignoring his surprised face

it wasn’t expensive, but it was the most meaningful gift he’s ever received

it was the first time tenma was given a present like that: a tiny bonsai tree

“maybe that’ll teach you some responsibility!” you joked, pushing him teasingly as he just stared at the little tree, feeling like something inside grew as well

he ignored it by challenging you to a DDR tournament (you won, again)

tenma began seeing the bonsai as a symbol of your friendship with him, and it felt good to finally have someone who would go out of their way to be his friend

(as a result, the bonsai was as healthy as ever)

but maybe, his macho–man act turned you off the wrong way and made him seem like a spoiled rich kid. you never could open up seriously about problems you had without laughing at tenma’s serious face, always messing up his bright orange hair and calling him a loser

tenma was tired of being a kid in your eyes, he wanted to be your manly boyfriend that wasn’t just a legacy actor

he was jealous every time you talked about your actual friends from home, who you shared everything with and made them out like they were the best people on the planet

it was silly, but did you think about him like that? did your friends even know you were with him?

tenma, for the first time, wanted a relationship that was more than just a publicity stunt. he wanted to be your boyfriend, more than just the faker

he wanted to meet your friends, then your family, and learn more about who you actually were. know what you were made up of, past the glamarous movie lifestyle he knew too well

tenma wanted to stop lying to the media because you deserved the truth

tenma wanted to recite his script about love but mean it, pretending like he was staring into your eyes and delivering the best performance of his life (if you ignore the fact he almost said your name)

but every time you guys went out, you acted like you were a babysitter and tenma was a child. you never could see him as a potential partner, just a rival who reacted like a brother would

but you read his behavior all wrong

(though honestly, tenma took every opportunity possible to have you close, because he knew you’d never be his again)

by the time the contract was up, tenma was too late. you were ruffling his hair and smiling like a sibling would, commenting on how fun it was to be with him and he could call you up anytime for tutoring. to you, he was just some high schooler who needed you to study with

but to tenma, he had caught feelings and there was nothing he could do about it

tenma would soon see the tragic news titles of how japan’s favorite it–couple split and you moved onto someone else

(someone much more serious and cool than he was, unfortunately)

tenma began booking roles in much more different films, ones with much more somber tones and melancholy scenes that fit his jealousy perfectly (he was often reviewed as having a “real connection” to his character, like he lived through the pain)

tenma noticed the way you were around the same age as your idol partner, how you actually held his hand while blushing for once. you even kissed them and hugged them in front of the cameras, which you refused to do with tenma, saying it would be weird to kiss a kid

tenma was jealous. jealous how he wasn’t as grown up as you wanted him to be. how he wasn’t mature and had a fiery temper and didn’t think things through. but his next partner was assigned and he had an outing with them soon

as soon as tenma met up with them, he flashed a picture perfect smile and heard the cameras flash behind him. they seemed to like that

his new partner didn’t question a thing as tenma addressed them by your name without noticing

that day, tenma came home to his bonsai dying, despite watering it properly

tenma gave up on you, despite the jealousy. if he wasn’t good at this dating game, there was no need to try anymore

he didn’t return back to that arcade for a while

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

the moment taichi saw you, he was convinced you were the one like every hopeless romantic out there

he was literally blown away. the wind picked up stronger when he saw you and he swore he saw red hearts around you

pretending to skateboard like he was just passing by, he bumped into you on veludo way and pretended like he had no idea where he was going

“sorry! i’m a bit lost... could you help me?” taichi paired it with his puppy eyes and tragic pout, unaware he was a bunny face to face with a wolf in sheep’s clothing

but you recognized him, the famous actor from mankai’s autumn troupe

yet, you pretended to follow his plan, knowing how quickly mankai was regaining its popularity status in theatre

(hey, maybe you’d even get free stuff if you played your cards right)

then began your relationship with taichi, where he was head over skates for you and did everything in his power to make you stay

taichi rearranged his schedule for you, staying up countless hours into the next day just to text you and have every possible moment with you

taichi always reserved you front row seats for every mankai production, sometimes even bringing you backstages despite the warnings from his other members

(they never really liked you, especially not the way you had so much control over taichi)

“taichi... you look tired. are you okay?” omi asked one day, when taichi had been on his phone the entire meal and anxiously fidgeted for a reply

(you sometimes did that just to mess with him a little, by leaving his multiple messages on read) (he hated it)

“me? i’m doing the best i could be!” taichi exclaimed, sneaking a glance at his screen to still see it dark

when omi carefully nodded and turned around, taichi’s posture slouched and the insomnia he was developing just to talk began catching up to his performance

taichi did everything a perfect boyfriend did in plays: wrote you love letters (you never read them), created thoughtful playlists that flowed well (you never listened), even learning new fun talents just to impress you (you never paid attention)

it was never enough to make you see him as more than a key to the theatre industry

to you, taichi was nothing more than a loyal puppy on a leash

taichi didn’t realize how tight his collar was until he was confronted by his troupe members, all who were as serious as it got with them

“what’s up?” taichi offered, faking a grin and suppressing the yawn building in his throat. the bags under his eyes were dark, and his blue eyes were dull. he hadn’t slept in so long. he was low on money for buying too many things. he couldn’t remember the last time he finished a meal

omi exchanged looks with the others, knowing he had to be the one to deliver the news because well, maybe he’d soften the blow a bit better

it must be bad if even juza and banri are not fighting, taichi mused, not really listening until he heard:

“—they’re cheating on you, taichi.”

taichi’s head snapped up, his body becoming rigid from the accusation. his sight landed on a digital image on banri’s phone screen, where you were clearly all over another person

(taichi remebered them, they were your lockscreen. he never questioned it)

(even if he was always jealous of how you hung out with every other friend much more than him, you own boyfriend!)

there was nothing to justify. banri explained how he and juza came upon them at the mall, and he was sorry

(it wasn’t banri’s fault, but he apologized because he was genuinely sorry for all taichi went through)

it’s not like he could say anything, the photo was clear as day! but taichi’s fists were tight by his side and he stood up defiantly

“that’s not true! maybe, that’s just their friend! or family member! i trust them, stop making baseless claims against them!” taichi knew he was making a scene, but it gave him a window to storm out of the front door and run down the sidewalk

“taichi!” he heard, but no one dared followed him. maybe he needed to face it by himself and open his eyes

they’d be back waiting for him at the end of the day when he finally realized he didn’t deserve to be in a toxic situation like this

(taichi did so much to become even better, just so you would like him more... it never worked)

taichi stopped at the park, panting deeply and leaning forward to catch his breath

this couldn’t be possible! he was the perfect boyfriend, right? he did everything for you... what wasn’t enough? when would he be enough?

but the proof was right there. taichi could see you with the same person in the image right in front of him

that’s when it hit. you knew taichi had acting practice right now, he wouldn’t know any better

all the pent–up anger within him exploded, his desperation masking a much more weak, unstable truth: fear of abandonment and the unrequited jealousy of the other person, no matter how much he hated to admit it

taichi was jealous. jealous of how you liked everyone else so much better than him, taichi wanted to be better, for you

but you were gonna leave him, toss him aside like your time together was nothing, like he was nothing

you never loved him, you liked the attention

taichi finally saw the signs, the red flags you were manipulative and knew he was easy enough to twist and break. he opened his eyes and you hadn’t even noticed him

but then, he tried to tell himself maybe he actually liked that, but it sounded hollow and fake even to him

taichi had to say no now

taichi was hurt, but he couldn’t show that to you anymore. you didn’t deserve the privilege having a say in his feelings anymore

walking by and pretending to bump into you, your face didn’t change as you saw him, simply raising an eyebrow in question

“just leave me for somebody else,” taichi humorlessly laughed, staring at the way you felt nothing for him

you stepped onto his heart and broke it, there was nothing else to say. even then, he wish he was the person you loved, even if it killed him

“enjoy yourself.” taichi finished, knowing these would be the last words he would ever say to you before returning back to the dorms

he didn’t look back, not anymore

[whattodowithace]

Roomates Code (Donghun & Seyoon)

Title: Roommates Code

Pairing: Liju x Donghun & Seyoon. (But can be reader x Donghun & Seyoon)

Genre: Humor & Fluff with some Spice

Word count: 2140

Writer: Kpopmadness (Ju)

A/N: This is a story I wrote based off of a dream I had about me and Lio if we were with our Biases. This is one of our favorite fanfics. XD this gives you a glimpse into our personality. Because we are EXACTLY like this. XD ~Ju

I collapse on my bed, nervously waiting for my best friend to answer me. She was in her room with her boyfriend of two years, Kim Seyoon. While I,  i was having  a panic attack over something that had just been sent me.

Let me explain how i got here first; My roommate has stuck by me since high school. We have been inseparable since then. Our similar personalities making a perfect bond. Our relationship easy and low maintenance. Once we graduated, we decided to move to the city into a small apartment together to share the rent.

Our separate jobs kept us busy and active over the next four years we lived together. Seeing each other through the bad times and the good. Staying up all night many nights talking and watching TV. Our loud laughs annoying our neighbors no end.

Then, two years ago, my roommate met Seyoon. She bucked having a boyfriend for a long time. Enjoying being single. But Seyoon's determination payed off and soon they were a close knit pair. While i decided to stay single even longer though I was happy for her, but not wanting that for myself as much. I had never had a boyfriend before. Even in high school i stayed to myself and kept my head down. But everyone found me easy to get along with. My roommate was also this way, but we kept each other busy and didn't get lonely.

Me and my roommate made a pact after she met Seyoon. And because we respected each other and didn't  get hurt, it had worked out for us. The rule was when we wanted privacy with our boyfriend, the other either had to make arrangements to stay elsewhere or wear noise cancelling headphones. (Our walls were paper thin and our bedrooms stationed right next to each other. ) So we always made sure our headphones were charged and ready to go.

So whenever her and Seyoon needed time alone, i either left or wore my headphones while i read a book. Wishing her the best of luck.

There was another half to this pact though. Me and my roommate only texted each other on separate messaging apps for everyday things. The messaging app that comes on the phone was saved for emergencies. So if, while my roommate was busy with Seyoon and i was gone and something happened, i could call her or text her and a ringtone assigned only for me would go off. Telling her to stop what she was doing and help. The same rule applied to me.  Call it a homing beacon if you want. Or an SOS.

I was now 24 years old and things had changed a lot in the last four months. Seyoon had set me up on a date with one of his best friends, Lee Donghun. I really did not want to go on that date. I hated being set up and felt it was a huge waste of time. But my roommate talked me into it and dolled me up beyond all belief. And when i arrived at the restaurant and met Donghun i was pleasantly surprised by how much we had in common and how easily we got along. Our conversation never going awkward or boring.

Over the next four months we exchanged many late night phone calls, many more dates, and many long walks together that drew us closer and closer. All the while my roommate and Seyoon were over the moon that their attempt to set us up had worked so well.

And now we are here. Back the present. With me panicking in my bedroom waiting for my roommate to reply to my SOS. It was the first time i had ever sent out an SOS to her. I had gotten home from my date with Donghun, my black dress itching my skin as i unlocked my apartment door. Donghun had walked me up, standing behind me as i unlocked the door.

I had noticed the way he had stayed a little longer than usual as he played with his car keys, how he kept glancing inside. And how his lips stayed on mine a little longer than they normally did, his eyes glossy when we pulled away from each other.

But me never having a boyfriend before, had no clue what that all meant. So i wished him goodnight and went inside. I had changed out of my dress and had  let my hair down when i see his name pop up on my phone.

From; Donghun Bear🐻

I'll be at your place in five minutes. You left something in my car. 😊

I feel my heart sink into my stomach, immediately nervous about his coming over so late. I step outside my bedroom door and went to my roommates door, i placed my hand on her doorknob before wincing and pulling it away. I had forgotten Seyoon was staying the night with her.

I quickly go back to my room and shut the door. Immediately picking up my phone and pulling up her name on the phones messaging app. I bite my nail as i send the text, my heart beating rabidly against my chest.

To; Hussy

Donghun is coming over. And he just dropped me off at home 10 minutes ago.

I plop down on my bed, waiting for a reaction. I hear her phone go off, the repetitive text tone going off loudly.  I hear her moan slightly before i can hear her footsteps across her bedroom floor. Its silent for a moment before i hear her rush to her bedroom door, slamming it and then busting into my room.

Her hair was a mess and her zip up hoodie hung off one shoulder, her eyes wide.

"He's doing what?" She asks, closing my bedroom door.

"He's coming over in 5 minutes to return something i left in his car." I fill her in. Standing up from my bed.

My roommate shakes her head, rubbing her eyes as she asks, "What did you leave in his car?"

"I don't think i left anything."

"But he's still coming?" She asks, her eyes going wider.

"Yes." I say, slightly bewildered.

She takes a deep breath before smirking at me, "Put on a different shirt. Something form fitting. I'll clean up the living room and your room a bit for you." She commands, scurrying around the room picking up my black dress to hang it up.

"Wait.. why... what is happening?" I stutter, unsure what to do.

"He's coming over at 9:30 at night. He isn't just coming to drop something off, he wants to stay with you. What do you think he wants?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

I suck in a gasp, my face heating up.

"Just go change." She tells me, moving to the living-room.

I change into a form fitting tank top to match my black sweatpants. I change with shaky hands before joining her. Seyoon smiles at me from his spot on the couch, his blonde hair messy and his eyes sleepy.

"Seyoon, we need to leave." My roommate says, grabbing her jacket.

"No!" I shout, taking her arm. "Don't leave me. He may just drop something off and leave."

"I highly doubt that." She smirks, making my face heat up again.

"Just stay and see?" I ask, nerves swirling in my stomach.

She looks at Seyoon, who smiles and shrugs, "I would like to see what happens honestly." He says.

She sighs and nods her head, "Okay, we'll stay. But you can't make out with him on the couch if that is what happens. You'll have to move him to your bedroom. Me and Seyoon will hide in my room. If he leaves just come get us, if he stays you have to shut your bedroom door hard."

"What will you do if he stays?" I ask, suddenly more nervous.

"I'll stay the night at Seyoon's. If you close your bedroom door hard that means we should leave. I don't want to listen to you panting half the night."

I narrow my eyes at her before picking up a pillow and throwing it at her, making her laugh as she takes Seyoon's hand and leads him back to her room.

As they pass me Seyoon whispers, "You'll be just fine." Making me smile a little at his reassurance.

Moments later I hear a knock on the  door, making me jump and my stomach drop. I suck in a breath before going and unlocking the door, Donghun's warm smile greeting me.

"Hi." I say, smiling up at him.

"Hey." He says back, his eyes locked on me.

`````

"Can you hear anything?" Seyoon asks, sitting on my roommates bed patiently.

"They're talking." She answers, pressing her ear to the door harder.

Several minutes pass before she says, "It's gone very quiet."

"Did they leave?" Seyoon whispers, pressing his own ear to the door. Straining to hear.

"She would have told me." She answers, checking her phone just to be sure.

A minute later heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. Seyoon sucks in a breath as the footsteps walk passed their room and a loud door slamming shut follows moments later.

Quickly, she grabs Seyoons hand and leads him out of her bedroom, "That was a very strong 'Leave' " She mumbles under her breath, leading Seyoon to the front door quietly.

"Wait," Seyoon hisses, pulling his hand away. "Should we really leave her alone? I mean, can she handle Donghun?'

She opens her mouth to answer him when a loud moan from Dongun echos down the hall toward them. She takes Seyoon's hand again, stifling a laugh as she answers, "I'm pretty sure she has things under control."

```````

I let out a laugh as Donghun places a gentle kiss on my cheek, making it the hundredth one that morning.

"Donghun, shes going to come back to change for work any minute." I whine through a giggle.

Donghun sighs and looks at me, a smirk on his lips, "I really don't want to leave."

I run my finger along the purple spots all over his neck, making him tense slightly at my touch. "You'll see me tonight though."

Donghun lets out a shaky breath as he leans down and kisses my lips, making butterflies erupt in my stomach. "I'll see you tonight." He whispers against my lips before pulling away and walking down the hall.

He stops, however, when he sees my roommate walks up the stairs. She smirks at him, seeing the bright purple marks covering his neck. His face and ears turn a deep red as he exchanges greeting with her and keeps walking. I quickly go and lock myself in the bathroom  to take a shower before work.

I had just turned the water on when i hear a loud knock on the door, "I want details!" My roommate yells through the door. "His neck was covered in bruises, i cannot imagine what you look like." She teases, making me narrow my eyes at the door.

"It's none of your business." I snap at her as i step into the shower, the hot water stinging my skin.

"That's not how this works." She taunts. "I've shown you my hickey's before now it's your turn."

I let out a sigh in the shower, knowing what awaited me when i got out. "Are you seeing him again?" She asks me.

"Tonight." I tell her, "We're going to his place."

"Was he that good?" She asks in an innocent sing song voice.

"Shut up!" I screech, throwing a shampoo bottle at the door. I hear my roommate let out a laugh, clearly enjoying this.

I finish showering in peace before stepping out of the bathroom with my work clothes on. My roommate met me with a smirk, my neck visible with the cut of my shirt.

"He did a number on you too i see." She says, smiling widely.

I sigh and lift the hem of my shirt up to reveal several dark spots along my ribcage where he had bit me multiple times. My roommate sucks in a gasp and starts giggling.

“What did he return, by the way?” She asks, controlling her laughter for a moment. Tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

I hang my head as I hold up my wrist showing a hair tie. My roommates laugh fills the apartment over the small object Donghun felt inclined to return so quickly.

"Well he got what he wanted that’s for sure. And don't think my concealer will be able to cover all of your marks, sweetie." She teases, still smiling at me. I roll my eyes at her as i make my way to my room to finish getting ready.

[theunvanquishedzims]

Calming my post-election anxiety with sweet sweet logic

So Trump is a wannabe dictator with crazy screaming fans who are headed toward violent armed meltdowns. What’s to stop him from going full dictator and refusing to leave office?

I’m glad you asked!

You see, the major difference between wannabe dictators and actual dictators is ALLIES. Dictators are surrounded with tight security, aided by the military, cheered on by media that they control, and are either helped, encouraged, or just ignored by other countries with the power to stop them.

Trump has charged the Secret Service money for the privilege of protecting him and his family since day one. You remember the first year, when his wife and son refused to move to the White House so the Secret Service had to RENT FLOORS in TRUMP’S BUILDING to be close to them? And how his extended family went globetrotting and the Secret Service had to accompany them? And when Trump himself insisted on hosting people at his golf club, he made the Secret Service RENT GOLF CARTS from TRUMP’S CLUB to follow him while he went golfing?

The end result was that halfway through the first year of his presidency, the Secret Service could not pay their own wages. Because half their yearly budget had gone straight to Trump’s pockets. And that’s just financially. I think we all remember how the White House came down with Covid and Trump still insisted on Secret Service agents driving him around to wave at people. He has not been kind to the people who are sworn to protect him. These people have had a front-row seat to his circus since 2016. When the time comes from Trump to leave the White House and Biden to take over, I doubt they’ll betray the country out of loyalty to Trump. If anything, they’ll be the ones to drag him out.

As for the military, Trump insulted and fired four generals from his administration staff. He said on multiple occasions that soldiers who get captured or killed are suckers and losers. He refused to visit a cemetery to honor the dead because it was raining. He tries to pander to the military by massive increases in defense spending, but that money goes to capitalists who make weapons and war technology, not the soldiers or veterans. (He also hypocritically accused military officials of being in bed with those same companies.) In a poll of 1000 service members 50% said they disliked Trump. Overall, he doesn’t act like a leader, and the way he skirts responsibility (like taking charge during the pandemic) doesn’t appeal to a group that functions on trust in their leadership.

A proper dictator would have spent the last four years cozying up to his generals and making sure they knew the financial and social benefits of answering to him personally, not the office of the President. And while Trump did adhere to the adage “find a foreign foe” to unite people against, he badly misjudged what most US citizens consider “foreign.” He hasn’t found a villain that we would root for the military taking down, and the people he targets (Latinx, Blacks, immigrants, and people in countries our military has already devastated) are not a minority he can turn the majority of the country against, especially with how many of the former two serve in the military themselves. When the time comes for him to leave office, the military might be the first to cut ties with the wannabe Dictator-in-Chief.

Now, the media. They’ve been treating him like a joke candidate since day one, but after he was actually elected and took office they’ve started to take him more seriously. He’s gotten his catchphrase “fake news!” to catch on, but that doesn’t change the fact that under his administration news reporters have been harassed, illegally arrested, and generally poorly treated by Trump, especially if they’re women. He’s trashed talked everyone, with Fox News being the last bastion of semi-legitimate news that openly supports him (and their credibility has taken a big hit over it.)

Despite this support, in recently months Trump has been increasingly dumping on Fox, even throwing the mediator they provided for the debate under the bus, and risking alienating them in the process. If his supporters listen to him and start considering Fox part of Big Fake News, it might possibly be the death of Fox, leaving most of his supporters adrift and isolated from their source of right-wing news, and sending the more extreme fringes into the arms of conspiracy theory websites. (I’m not saying this is bad, being cut off from Fox and its toxic stream of “information” can actually help rehabilitate the right.)

Honestly, I don’t think Trump ever had a shot at controlling the media like a dictator would, mainly because of social media. He’s in love with attention, and Twitter has provided him a nonstop stream of it. No other President has threatened, insulted, promoted, or hinted at war over social media the way Trump has, and he gets so much direct feedback and interaction with the public and the world as a result. He could have leveraged that by buying the company (through a shell corporation, obviously) and setting it up as The One True Source of Information, manipulating public perception of him and his administration by keeping a tight grip on what information he let out.

But he’s just. Not. That. Clever. He blurts out everything that crosses his mind, leaving his administration to play clean-up on his messes, put out fires he keeps pouring gasoline on, and claim he’s joking when everyone knows he’s testing the limits on what he can get away with saying. He took advantage of the direct communication with legions of supporters, but seemed to forget that his detractors had equal access and would absolutely call him out on things he definitely said, it’s right there on his Twitter account, they have the Tweet pulled up on their phone right now. Instead of operating a single state-run media outlet while crushing all free press and limiting internet access like other dictators, he’s mooned the world’s cameras and acted surprised when they put his saggy butt on tv. “Fake news! That’s not my butt! THIS is my butt! [image attached]” he tweets. “Twitter is so biased, they haven’t censored any of Sleepy Joe’s photos!” he later tweets.

And lastly. The key to a dictatorship’s success. To prevent outside intervention, the country a dictator runs must be unimportant and ignored, wealthy and well-connected, or scary and well-armed. Minor warlords are the former, Putin is the latter, Trump might have weaseled his way into being the middle. But at the end of the day, America’s whole thing is new leadership every four years. It was revolutionary to replace a lineage of kings and queens stretching generations with a non-royal elected leader who only held office for four to eight years, but we’ve stuck to that for 200 years and everyone’s used to it by now. It would take a charismatic and powerful person to move the American people towards abolishing such a basic tenant of our democracy, and despite the mob mentality that lead a small portion of his supporters to chant “sixteen more years!” in the heat of the moment, Trump is not that charismatic. He’s not that smart. He’s not that well-connected. He’s not that savvy. He’s not that good at politics. And he’s not that powerful.

(I was going to say something here about him being the laughingstock of the world’s leaders and shouldn’t expect any outsiders to help him stay in power, especially since his tax returns came out and showed he owes people a ton of money that he doesn’t have, but this post is long enough so let’s cut to the chase.)

Trump is a greedy, small-minded man that has clung to power by appealing to the worst in humanity and scraping away at the best. But he hasn’t succeeded. He’s a sad old man who will say anything to be loved, and I don’t think he even knows what love is, so he’ll settle for attention. He doesn’t have money, he doesn’t have an army, and the only allies he has are using him as a political pawn to further their own interests. They will cut him loose the minute he stops being useful.

Now, the bad part: crazy screaming fans. Fringe groups on the internet. Mobs chanting “sixteen more years!” Men with guns and bombs and kidnapping plots, men trying to get into voting centers to destroy the election, men driving trucks with black flags that say FUCK YOUR FEELINGS, TRUMP 2020 (available on Amazon for $11.99, I wish I was joking.) I have no idea how many people in this country genuinely love Trump. It is hopefully significantly less than voted for him. There are some big issues in this country that are make-or-break, and unfortunately by reason of running Republican Trump has aligned himself with some of them.

There are people who hate everything about Trump, but he put a pro-life judge on the Supreme Court so they’re voting for him. There are people who are uncomfortable with Trump, but they’ve forgiven their grandpa for saying worse at Thanksgiving dinner, so they’ll vote for him. There are people who don’t know a single thing about Donald Trump, but they see (Republican) next to his name on the ballot, so they vote for him. None of that means those people will side with him if he tries to make a move towards dictatorship.

Now there are people who love Trump. They’ve heard and seen the vile things he’s said and done, and are genuinely okay with it, because they are full of hate and rage and want to change the world to put themselves on top. I do not know how many of these people there are. I know they exist all over the country, not just in red states. I know some of them have guns and want a reason to use them, because they’ve been talking about it for decades. I don’t know if we can trust the police to side with us over them if fights start breaking out. (And I pray pray PRAY people de-escalate any fights, because monkey see monkey do, and one news report of a MAGA extremist shooting someone can inspire a hundred copycats can lead to full-on civil war like we've never seen.) I know we need to be careful the next few months, to take care of ourselves and watch out for the more vulnerable in our communities.

And above all, I know this: Trump is not going to keep this country. He got it through trickery and deceit and foreign influence and national indifference and people not taking him seriously. We’ve learned. We’ve grown. We’re taking him seriously now, and we will not let him take what we’ve already told him he can’t have. The election is over. He’s a loser. He’d better start packing his bags. Because he’s not staying in office.

[bitchynaruto]

Missing Scene - The Country Between Us (CH.3)

Embarrassingly I forgot to include this scene in ch. 3 which is actually kinda important to Sasuke’s headspace and his relationship with Suigetsu + coping. ANYWHOM, it’s included now in TCBU but here is a quick link to just read the one-shot instead of rereading the entirety of the chapter again lol.

Anyway this scene takes place after Suigetsu is recruited and right before Karin is recruited into Taka. More under the cut!

Night comes and the terrain grows more dangerous in the cover of darkness. Sasuke agrees with Suigetsu about finding a place to rest, and remembers the location of a nearby town at the midway point between Orochimaru’s hideout and prison.

“Thank fuck I’m giving my back a break from the dirt,” Suigetsu says with a relieved sigh. Stretches his back until it pops before shrugging his shoulders enough to loosen the joints. “You must really be liking me today to rent us a room for tonight, eh, Sasuke?”

Honestly, Sasuke was growing tired of sleeping on the hard ground, but Suigetsu didn’t need to know that.

“We’ll see,” Sasuke replies, the corners of his mouth twitching despite himself. “I can still leave you outside if I feel like it.”

“Cold. Ice cold. I like that in a man.”

Sasuke gives a tch and a roll of his eyes, letting the comment slide off him like water. Whatever energy he has for tolerating Suigetsu’s games is at the lowest threshold, and he doesn’t much feel like indulging them any further tonight.

They make their way into town. It’s out in the open and small, quiet and glowing with lanterns and the insides of homes, lighting up the dirt paths. Noise travels from the center of town, where a few food shops are still open, and people surrounding a bar that also serves as an inn. When they step inside, the place is loud and filled to the brim with people, alcohol staining the air and burning his nose. All of the rooms for the night are taken except one, but there’s only a single bed and a couple cushions to use as a makeshift one. Sasuke takes it anyway.

The woman in charge of the inn takes the money with only a mild look of contempt for the two men standing before her, until she leaves to clean up the room. Suigetsu is already at the bar attempting to order something, only to be slid a cup of water that makes him hang his head in shame even as he takes the drink. A curl of Sasuke’s lips escapes him at the scene before him, amused, until a light of reflecting metal catches his attention. 

Across the bar, a man with a Hitai-ate, carved with the symbol of a leaf dead center, hangs his head back and laughs loud and drunk without a care in the world. 

Sasuke’s about to flash his Sharingan, fingers twitching to his sword, before he realizes the man is too drunk to notice him. There’s only two other Leaf Shinobi surrounding him, one with his head pressed flat against the table while the other is matching him shot for shot. Only then does he relax his muscles, take a deep breath before making his way towards Suigetsu.

Now tell me, Sasuke, a familiar voice echoes within his mind, I thought I taught you better than this.

The voice has Sasuke stilling, narrowing his eyes. Now that he knows Orochimaru is a figment of his mind, and cannot harm him aside from manipulating memories and visions, he’s no longer caught off guard. Won’t let himself be fearful again. That doesn’t make him unweary, or stupid enough to believe Orochimaru won’t do anything less than cause a scene.

You really think I would allow any harm to fall on my precious vessel? Sasuke-kun, you disappoint me. I pegged you smarter than this.

Taking a deep breath, settling the anger and annoyance burning through him, Sasuke finally asks through gritted teeth, “Get to the point.”

I believe your enemies are vulnerable in front of you as you speak, and yet you’ll let them pass you by without taking an opportunity to better yourself. Shameful.

“If they get in my way, I’ll kill them,” Sasuke points out, knowing Orochimaru can sense the truth in that statement. “Right now, they’re not in my way.”

Don’t be so shortsighted. There is a reason why your paths crossed, and it is ignorant of you to believe otherwise. Knowledge, Sasuke, is power.

As much as Sasuke hates to admit it, the snake has a point. It is strange that Konoha Shinobi would be out so far from the Land of Fire, even though this were in fact a mere pitstop on the way to or from a mission. If there’s more of them near here, Sasuke shouldn’t make light of their increased presence.

Afterall, Sasuke’s a wanted man.

Sasuke makes his way through the crowded bar towards the booths and tables where the men talk amongst themselves. Most of the patrons are drunk, or are older than him, and pay him little mind—in fact, actively ignore his presence. It doesn’t take him long to settle into the table behind the men, back towards them as he focuses out the abstract noise of the other patrons aside from his target. 

None of the men notice him either. 

“I swear, I can’t wait to get back home,” one of the men drawls out, clearly on the verge of drunkenness. “Nobody makes katsudon like my girl does.”

“Don’t torture your poor lady by coming back home,” the other says through fits of laughter. “She’s probably having the time of her life without your ugly ass there.”

“Oi, fuck you.”

The men at the table burst out into a fit of full-bellied laughter to which Sasuke rolls his eyes at. He should have realized they were too drunk and off-duty to give anything worthwhile for Sasuke to pick up on. Listening to Orochimaru has never yielded in anything positive, and to do so now only proves his point further.

Don’t turn away now. 

But Sasuke’s already standing, about to leave the table and go upstairs into bed. No more entertaining Orochimaru’s desires any longer. Sasuke may have to deal with the snake slithering in his thoughts and mind, but that didn’t mean he had to act on them.

Sasuke’s about to head over towards where Suigetsu’s at, until a name has him freezing.

“Danzō’s a little crazy over this Orochimaru business anyway,” the third man says on the quieter side, sounding more sober than the rest. “How long has he been dead for now? What we really should be looking for is that traitor, Sasuke.” 

The man spits Sasuke’s name with so much venom and hatred, but it’s only a fraction of what Sasuke feels for them. Cute, in its own way. 

“You know our orders,” one of them slurs. “Find the prisoners and rescue them. Strengthen Konoha in our numbers.”

Sasuke’s blood turns to ice at that statement.

“What do you think he’s doing with them all anyway?”

“When’s the last time you’ve been in Konoha? Can’t go anywhere without an ANBU breathing down your neck or walking the streets. Not hard to figure out where they’re all ending up, and then we get stuck on these boring rescue missions. It’s unfair.”

“Shut up,” the more sober one seethes, smacking the other with the palm of his hand. “You’ve got a loose tongue. If we continue to do well, hell, maybe we’ll be assigned to hunt down that bitch Uchiha. Think of how fun that’d be.”

“Finally, it’s time someone put an end to that cursed clan,” says the other. “I’ll give the Hokage that much. Nobody has come close to bettering Konoha this much since the Senjus were in charge.”

The others murmur in agreement, laughing, and Sasuke’s already stomping past the group, fuming. Heartbeat pounding in his ears, the hatred and rage surging through him is all he can feel, all encompassing. 

All of them had wanted the Uchihas gone from the start. They didn’t need to know the details, but they had accepted Danzō’s role in the decimation in the clan—had even claimed his decisions made Konoha better, stronger. Sasuke’s read the journal belonging to the second Senju, has read the vile words of hatred without any fancy words hoping to hide away their true intent. 

After the massacre, so many of Konoha’s people looked at him with sympathy or pity. Approached him in ways they never had before. Sasuke had thought it came from their inability to understand his situation and trying their best to mask it, to push through it in order to offer their best sympathy to a boy who had lost everything in a single night. He knew the village thought of him as a survivor, a relic of an extinct and powerful clan, a piece in the machine to showcase the village’s strength and superiority to the rest of the world. 

Reality crashes into him and shatters the last illusion he had about Konoha. None of them approached him because of the tragedy of what happened, they only approached him because he was nothing to fear on his own. A fledgling Uchiha to control and use for Konoha’s own benefit.

Like Orochimaru had chosen him.

Now you understand why I sought Konoha’s destruction, Orochimaru’s voice slithers through his thoughts, I was made by Konoha. Only I could understand the pervasive nature of its being, and knew to avoid anything worse birthed from that village, it would need to no longer exist.

“Shut up,” Sasuke snaps as he goes up the stairs towards his room. Second on the left if he remembers the innkeeper correctly, but it’s hard to focus with his racing thoughts and Orochimaru’s voice. “Your reason for destroying Konoha has nothing to do with my reasons for my mission. We are nothing alike.”

You may say that now, but Konoha birthed your hatred and anger also. We are cut from the same cloth. Perhaps you believed you could fulfill your mission without me, but you’ll soon realize you still need me, my precious Sasuke.

He shuts his eyes so tight until all he can feel is his pulse pushing against his. The laughter comes back, echoing, and the muscle in his jaw threatens to jump right out.

“Sasuke?” Suigetu’s voice comes through as he steps inside the room. When he opens his eyes, the other has a glass of water in his hands, quirking a single brow at him. “You good?”

The laughter cuts off like a scratch of a record, and Suigetsu’s presence delivers the silence Sasuke had been seeking. 

After a moment to revel in the quiet, Sasuke answers, “Fine.”

Suigetsu eyes him a moment before he shrugs, moving to take off his shirt and get into his sleep pants. As always, the other doesn’t care for modesty, and as he’s changing into his sleep pants, says, “I saw you hanging around those Konoha jerks and thought you were getting into trouble.”

“No,” Sasuke replies. “Trouble usually finds me.”

“You can say that again,” Suigetsu says with a feral grin. “Never a dull moment with you around, Sasuke.”

Sasuke eyes him, and the anger and hatred burning through him has smoldered. “Is that why you came with me? For a good time?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the only reason.” That piques Sasuke’s curiosity, gets him to keep listening—the blatant honesty of Suigetsu surprisingly being one of his more endearing traits. “Nobody else has the balls to kill Orochimaru, not even that pesky Hokage of yours could. You woke up one day and figured it was time for that old bitch to die.”

A quiet huff of air leaves past his nose, lips twitching upward momentarily. “It wasn’t as simple as that. I spent a lot of time researching on ways to kill that snake, trained until my body gave out, and waited until he was at his weakest.”

“And modest, too.”

“Not modest,” Sasuke replies. “Just telling you the truth.”

“Either way people tried to kill him, and you were the only one who didn’t fail. Orochimaru tried to make you his bitch, but you came out the other side,” Suigetsu shrugs, turning to Sasuke with a smirk on his face. “ I listen to you and I don’t hear a bullshitter. I hear someone who can get shit done.”

Sasuke stares at Suigetsu, at the way the words fall off his tongue and the heat in the pools of his eyes. The longer he does, the further the grin split across the other’s face continues to grow. Suigetsu steps closer and closer, until he’s standing in Sasuke’s personal bubble.

Funnily enough, Sasuke doesn’t care.

“What?” Suigetsu asks, tilting his head down towards Sasuke. A pleasant warmth spikes in him, electrifying in a way the overwhelming anger from earlier drowned out anything good. “Said too much?”

“No, just enough.”

“Oh?” 

“You had a point, before,” comes Sasuke’s words as he undoes the belt holding his white tunic together. Doesn’t break eye contact with the other, not even when Suigetu’s gaze drops to where his hands are pushing the fabric away. “Weeks after we first met.”

“Remind me what point I made, my brain’s forgetful around men who look like you.”

“I was holding back before.” Sasuke chuckles, dark and deep. Hooks his fingers into the waistband of Suigetsu’s pants and pulls him close. From this close, he can see his own reflection in Suigetsu’s dilated pupils, a mirror of his own eyes staring back at him. “Abstaining from what I really wanted for some idea of a nobler cause.”

Maybe he was holding onto an outdated notion of what he must do to make sure the Uchiha were avenged. Taking off the head does nothing if the claws are still attached and the venom still surges throughout the veins within the body. 

Konoha created Danzō, Orochimaru, and Itachi. It is not enough to simply take out the leaders when the village itself is the poison. 

Which is why the Leaf Village must be destroyed. Only through destruction can the world be purged from its insidious beliefs that plagues not only the Land of Fire, but the entire world. Anyone who stands with Konoha is as guilty as its leaders, and deserves equal punishment for the crime of passivity for believing in the sham that is the Will of Fire. 

“Not anymore, though.”

Three words are all the other needs, and Suigetsu is all over him. Hands roaming over him with enthusiasm. When Suigetsu presses his mouth against him, he is reminded that this is his body. His choice. 

Everything up to here has been ruled by other’s actions besides his own, but now he’s truly broken free and can see the future with clear eyes.

Sasuke’s mind and body is his own.

No going back to how it was before.

[pip-n-flinx]

Among Us

So this is going to get long, this is going to get personal, this is going to be about prejudice and race and self-serving bad-faith arguments and flawed rhetoric. And for all of these reasons I’m going to leave the rest of this under the cut.

As a few of my friends will know, earlier this week I was delivered an ultimatum from my landlord/roommate. He disguised it well, telling me he was ‘concerned for my mental health’ that my ‘negativity was dragging the whole house down’ and that I was simply too filthy to live with. I won’t pretend I’m a neat freak, and I can honestly say that I have taken some pains to clean more since, to his surprise and delight, though its particularly hard to take coming from him.

“You’re always so down. It’s making you lazy and thin skinned” You know its funny you should say that, now specifically, because I’ve actually been on the up and up this last week and you didn’t mention this at all in January when I was actually at my worst, or February when I was afraid I was going to have to quit my job, or back during the holiday season when retail work was breaking my back... Only now do you think to check in on me?

“You left a pair of gloves, a letter, and a small wooden trinket on the table!” Indeed I have, as you have left your pair of gloves, well over 21 letters, and regularly set your packages on this same table, including today two packages to be returned to amazon. I didn’t realize I didn’t get to use the table the same way you do.

“You don’t do dishes! except that you did this week, which is cool I guess but still!” You do realize that I actually hand-wash every dish I use within 24 hours of using it, right? And that often the dishes you come to me bitching that I never cleaned are in fact your fiances, yes? Ok good, next question.

“You’re always complaining about work. I don’t mind that you vent, but its all you talk about anymore!” I have either lost or walked away from 4 jobs in this last year, and that has not been easy, or fun. I have worked essential retail jobs the entire pandemic thus far. Additionally, in the months leading up to you storming out of your 75k a year salaried sales job, I had told you to leave it because I could see that it was killing you. You got so fed up with the job that for 4-5 months before you left your grandma-paid-off-my-second-mortgage capitalism-knows-best-pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps-ass spent more time playing valorant and league of legends on the clock than doing actual work. Need I remind you that every time I stepped into your office, or simply stepped upstairs to get ready for work, you would complain about how awful your managers were, or how shitty someone had been to you over the phone? DID I EVER BELITTLE YOU FOR ANY OF THESE THINGS????

The real kicker was that the spark, the moment that started this (at least for him) was me trying to explain why racism and ‘cultural supremecy’ was bad. I had brought to him something I thought we could both agree on, that we could both laugh at. I brought him a series of tweets about how problematic Van Gogh was for studying and imitating traditional japanese painting techniques. He took this, and immediately turned into a piece of the culture wars. Now, I agree, this is an egregious example of trying to ‘cancel’ someone. How cancelling a long dead artist who couldn’t sell his art while he was alive is important is beyond my comprehension, its not as though the market value of these comes up very often, and almost no-one will ever have a chance to buy or reject a Van Gogh. But to him this was emblematic of ‘liberals’ cancelling Seuss and Rowling.

He even went so far as to say that Van Gogh probably ‘did it better’ than the artists he was studying/imitating. Now, this is a huge red-flag to me because this is straight out of the Nazi playbook. This is William Shenker, proposing a theory of music to proof ‘German cultural superiority.’ This, if you will pardon my language, is the real culture war: trying to supplant other cultures art and history with western figures and events.

Now, for those of you who don’t know who I’m talking about, this man is sexist. He doesn’t believe women are equal, complains about women’s sports, and rejects a woman’s right to choose. This man is a transphobe, questioning the logic of ‘safe-spaces’ and allowing people to change their pronouns. This man is a Trump supporter, and voted for him twice. And all of these things I found out years after we became friends. I have in the past contemplated what it would take to cut him out of my life wholesale. Despite our wealth of shared experience and our shared interests, we’ve been drifting apart as he drifts further and further to the right. And he has been drifting. He’s parroted more bad-faith arguments from Ben Shapiro and Tucker Carlson in the last 6 months then he ever did when I first moved in with him.

I have been trying to push back, especially when he says the quiet parts out loud. I try to let him know that it is not acceptable to say he would rather an unarmed black man die that risk that a police officer might be injured. When he compares the people in control of Seuss’ intellectual property and works choose to stop printing less than 6% of his published works to the book burnings in Mao’s china. When he says that its more important to protect teacher from students trolling them by changing their pronouns than it is to protect trans or NB kids. When he espouses his belief that trans and NB kids are ‘just mentally ill.’ Whenever he says any of this shit, I have pushed back. I have tried to halt, or at least slow, his descent towards eugenics and white supremacy and fascism.

It has been to no avail.

And to be honest its exhausting. I wanted to believe that he would trust me, not just to be a moral and thoughtful person, but to be educated and informed on these issues. We went to school together, spent countless hours solving homework and trying to crack games together. If I don’t know the answer to his questions immediately, he often jokes ‘C’mon, you’re supposed to know everything!” and has frequently told me that I’m selling myself short.

But apparently all that trust and all that respect goes out the window when I challenge him. Suddenly I’m ‘overly negative’ or ‘too sensitive’ or he’ll ‘need to look into that, but...’

And the thing is, he is capable of great acts of kindness. He offered to rent me a room in his completely paid-off house, no mortgage at all, simply because he could see living at home was killing my mental health. He offered me 50-75% off of market rate. He buys gifts all the time, has landed tenants job interviews, set people back on their feet, and refused to press charges for several major financial loses he’s taken on the determination that it would do more harm to the defendant than he could ever recoup from it.

But he does not extend this kindness, this generous soul, to everyone. And lately, his circle grows smaller, and his kindess has waned, and it’s been so devastating to see him slip further and further towards his own worst impulses.

I know there will be people who think I should have cut him out of my life years ago, who can’t believe we never talked enough to know that he voted for Trump in 2016. I think back then he was genuinely ashamed, or at least guilty, about that vote. Now? It’s almost a matter of pride for him. I can’t tell you the number of times in the last 4 months that he’s told me that Biden “couldn’t possibly” be as “great” a President as Trump.

And he hides behind this “praise them when they do good, cuff them when they do bad” line and I used to take comfort in it but now... Now it’s clear that it was just a front or excuse for liking these abhorrent people.

I’ve had a couple of hard conversations with some of our mutual friends about what this means for me, and how I interract with the whole group of friends as a whole, in the last 3 days. None of our mutual friends seem to take any of these things as seriously as I do, with my oldest friend even telling me that he ‘can’t imagine’ breaking a friendship off over politics.... I know I know, the caucasity of it all, yes ha ha. And it does make me genuinely worried that I’ll wind up losing the 5-6 close friends that I actually rely on these days over this horrible sonuvabitch. But all this personal venting aside, there’s something bigger here I want to address:

I sat down this evening to watch Last Week Tonight and I was struck by this piece about Tucker Carlson, because while I knew some of what was said on his show, he is remarkably confident for a man who spouts the quiet parts of racism/sexism/homophobia on TV. I have a hard time imaging a more blatantly racist thing to do then declare that a woman who suggested ‘dismantling systems of oppression wherever they are found’ wants to dismantle the American system...

And I have to say, we should go back to punching Nazis. I want these fuckers afraid. I want them to crawl back to the furthest reaches of the internet, relegated to be laughed at for their bigotry by pundits of every political ideology. I want their vile vitriol hidden away where it doesn’t embolden others. I want them to know that they are out of line, out of touch, out of time. I want them to feel ashamed, like the relics of a bygone and worse era that they are, and for them to quietly fade to an ignominious death. I’m tired of seeing them on National News. I’m tired of Pewdiepie’s channel and influence refusing to die despite all the horrible things he’s said and done. I’m tired of Ben Shapiro spouting off about a woman’s place and rights, as if he has any fucking authority on the matter. I just want these people to lose their platforms and their followers. And for me the fact that they haven’t yet is so incredibly discouraging.

I know I didn’t offer any answers here I’m just tired of being alone with this defeated attitude and I guess I needed to get this off my chest as I try to disentangle myself from the losing battle of trying to save a friend from alt-right radicalization.

[gotmeringinghellsbells]

New Guilt

Fandom: Promare

Characters: Gueira, Lio Fotia, Meis

A/N: It is so hard to write t-fic for Promare but I have so many random ideas that just are weird and won’t work but thank you @kwaiipootato for the aid in idea execution. But Kray tickling Lio for his power is an idea that’s crossed my mind, and Galo saving him. Anyway, moving on. This isn’t a Galo x Lio fanfic because I do enjoy that aspect of them but also I thought their quick growing friendship was one of the cutest things ever. 

Description: Time has passed and the city of Promepoils and much has changed. Lio Fotia encouraged his fellow burnish to start over and follow whatever passion they wane to pursue. From this, time has built up, along with unmeasurable guilt. Was he a traitor? Did he abandon his breatharian? Galo offers the idea of inviting the other two members of the Mad Burnish over to the shared apartment for a “guys night” to aid with this feeling.

_

Hands fell from the fist bump, blue meeting purple. Synced smiles emerged as a restored city welcomed all, legally, into it’s area. Discrimination and arogance became a more hushed ordeal as burnish aidded the work force, the modern civilian in reconstruction. Most throught nothing would com from this but a waste of time or just helping others. They knew they’d be unwelcomed, despite the new charge having nothing against the former flames. 

She prefered to be called Governor, allowing Galo to even call her “Gov”. She was sweet, she was stern; but she was open to the idea of allowing the burnish to build their own city if they truly wanted too. She understood why they would, and no amount of money or apologizing would ever be able to make up for such harsh and inhumane treatment. 

Kray was locked away in his shut down facility; his legacy being burnt as it was rewritten. The Freeze Force was dismissed and shut down, the Burning Rescue became normal fire fighters, a new police force with basic equipment erupted.  Anyone could work and live wherever they please so long as they followed basic work ethics and had the right requirements. This caused some issues, but not too many. 

During this time of regrowth though, Lio found himself spending more and more time with his blue haired, idotic savior. Wherever Lio went, Galo would fallow; and vice versa. Before Galo could rent an apartment again, he would follow Lio into sheltered areas of rubble and sleep near him. They worked together throughout the project and when the time came that the city was rebuilt, Galo was excited to ask the other to sign the lease with him. 

Lio was taken off guard by this; but what did he expect? When he talked to his former team members, Meis and Gueira were less surprised than the blonde expected them to be. “Well, are you going to sign it or wait until we build our city?”  “Our city”? The idea that he, himself had proposed hadn't even stuck around after everything that had happened. 

As the blonde’s head fell, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Purple met red before a smile came across Gueira’s face. “A lot’s changed, yeah; but do you really want to live amongst these people? Sure, legally we can live here now, but do you want to? After everything they’ve done,” Lio lifted his head fully this time. “Kray. What Kray did, the orders Kray gave. The people don’t matter as long as you're happy, Gueira.”

The two males looked shocked. “What, you're saying it’s a good idea to stay here? With these people?!” Was this the same Lio Fotia that had earned the title as “Boss” to the Mad Burnish? The blonde thought for a moment. “I think it’s up to you to decide what you think is best. We’ll never fully be accepted, I know that. I’m willing to face that, to see this so called ‘equal’ city the new governor has proposed.

“I was offered a spot that I could enforce this so called equality and offer aid to those who need it. Without my flames, I’ve been at a complete loss of purpose. But I found i enjoy saving people and helping them. Other people have other dreams and passions they wish to pursue or education they wish to achieve,” he paused to motion to a moth holding her child to the side of the still abandoned market that the burnish were currently inhabiting. “Or an education and better chance at life for children. This is what I wish to do, your paths are your choice.” 

There was a shocked silence before Meis finally said something. “So…. your staying with that blue haired idiot then, right?” Lio’s demeanor shifted slightly, but not enough to be fully noticed. He was a bit shocked by that response but pushed it aside. He couldn’t expect everyone to feel the same. “Galo,” he corrected. “Yes, I’m staying here with Galo to save people.” The room was still tesne. 

The seconds in command looked to each other, unsure of what the next move should be. “So, that’s it Boss? You want to stay and try to build a new start,” Gueira asked. The blonde nodded. “Why not? Would our city be much different? We’d act with less respect towards a normal person if they stumbled upon us. Same give and take economic method they have. All I can say is the majority and minorities would be reversed. 

“Ignoring a social issue isn’t resolving it, it’s just that. It’s ignoring something of importance. If you wish to leave and start your own community to avoid those who’ve done us wrong, so be it. I, personally, am going to stand and show it doesn’t affect me. Their arrogance, their actions, their words. We’re all human; even if they don’t see it, I do.” 

His introduction speech played through his friends’ heads as they took in his words; his take on where they stood. They stood equal by law as stated, but socially they would have to make it know that they weren’t going to simply disappear into the shadows again because they weren’t wanted thanks to lies and oppression caused by Kray. 

“Well, if that’s how you feel,” Meis started, looking up from the dirty concrete floor. Lio was bracing himself for an orally harsh blow. :Then I guess we’re still right behind you Boss,” Gueira finished. Huh? Lio looked shocked at this, not masking the emotion. “You want to stay?” He couldn’t believe it. 

“Us two will, yeah. The others can decide on their own,” Gueira said with a smile as he looked around the quiet building. “They can't just force us back into hiding because it makes them feel better. We’re not bugs, we’re burnish,” Meis reasoned. “We’re people,” a woman said form the back. “We have rights too,” a man agreed. “It’s time to take action!” “We need to take advantage of this opportunity!” “Better living conditions!” “Better medicine!”

Soon enough the store was alive with the sounds of agreement. Lio looked a bit shocked. He’d honestly stopped by, not expecting for so many to understand or even want to stay. He smiled with no control of it before feeling two hands on his shoulders. Meis and Gueira looked down at him with unsure but hopeful smiles. “You’ll just have to see where life takes you,” was Lio’s departing words. 

He knew he’d see them around again; Meis had the address of the new apartment. But it felt like the right time to leave, to let everyone's growth start to bloom. “Oi, Lio!” A new voice called to the blonde as he left. A familiar blue haired male waving to the other as he jogged over. “That was pretty noisy, how’d it go?” Lio gently took the jacket off the back of the motorcycle before pulling it on. 

“Better than I could have ever expected.” The smile on his face was all Galo needed before he cracked a grin. 

The sound of a door clicking shut seemed to be the only noise in the night air before a parental tone broke through the temporary bliss. “I still can’t believe your letting two guys you hardly know spend the night in your apartment without you there,” it lectured. The male being addressed shrugged before turning to the woman who’d be housing him that night with a smile. “It doesn’t matter if I know them or not, Aina; Lio does. They were the Mad Burnish. Gotta be close to have a functioning group like them, right?”  

The pink haired girl shrugged before sighing a bit as she looked down past her crossed arms. “Yeah but have they been all that close since we defeated Kray? It’s not like they see each other all that often.” Galo gently took her arm before guiding her down the stairs. “Regardless, it’s his apartment too. His friends, his apartment and,” he sighed as he thought about the conversation that brought this plan about. “He needs some time with them.”

Aina looked at him with confusion as they walked down the street to her motorcycle. “Oh, is something wrong?” Galo shrugged as he stopped on the road side of the vehicle. “Ah, it’s difficult to explain. Frankly, I’m still not even sure what Lio was getting at. It’s like he feels guilty or something for everything. Like the burnish losing their flame, Kray being defeated, rebuilding the city, moving in with me and becoming a firefighter.” He stopped the list and shook his head. 

“I don’t know. He’s my best friend, I just want to help him. But I can't save him if I don’t know what I’m putting out. Maybe this’ll help?”  Aina thought a moment before shaking her head. “Your doing what you can, your being there for him. That’s all you can do sometimes,” she stated softly before climbing onto her vehicle. “Still though,” she started before looking behind her to see Galo following her lead, “I’m surprised Lio was so trusting of you so quickly. You guys grew a strong bond so quickly and from nothing. 

“If I was in his shoes, I’m not sure I could have done the same.” Galo thought about her words. He’d never really considered or stopped to think about how quickly their friendship took off.  “What I’m saying is, he trusts you a lot Galo. You thought this would be best to help him, right?” The blue haired male nodded; his face looked like that of a distraught child. “Then your already helping to extinguish his grief. Your a good friend Galo.” The other looked a little shocked before smiling. 

“I didn’t think about it that way…. thanks Aina.” The girl gave him a wink. “Now…. how about some pizza?” Galo let out a sound of excitement before the two took off down the shockingly empty street. 

_

It was both comforting and sickening at the same time. Guilt burned inside him, demanding action as if the flame had never left. He hadn’t been doing enough, he hadn’t been there for them like he should be; like he used to be. The blonde awkwardly stood in the kitchen with his former group mates before motioning towards the fridge. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like. We don’t have much, but I could try to cook.” 

Meis gave a small nod as Gueira snorted. “Yeah, let’s see how long until you burn down the idiot’s apartment with that.” Lio huffed before crossing his arms. “I’m not that awful.” The red head walked close to the blonde with a playful smirk. “Lio you’ve never cooked properly a day in your life.” Meis sighed as he opened the fridge for a bottle of water. “Neither have we Gueira.” 

He was a bit surprised to see some small meals here and there. Pizza from the shop nearby, pasta dishes; and a lot of  them. The dark haired male tucked some hair behind his ear before grabbing the plate of pizza and walking to the microwave. “Forty five should do it, right?” Lio nodded. “Yeah.” 

The sound of the microwave filled the awkward silence around the three before Gueira started to look around. “Wow, nice place you got here Boss.” Everything was rather plain and basic, yet homey all at the same time. There weren't many materialistic-type items except for a few pictures on the wall and a stack of dvds next to an average sized television. It made sense seeing as the burnish had to live as minimalists for so long. 

“Thanks,” Lio said, feeling even more awkward. “So, anything here yours or is this all…. Galo’s?” Meis wasn’t sure he got the name right. Lio gave him a nod before sighing. “The pictures are his, same with the dvds. Other than that he says it’s ours.” Meis quirked a brow. “That’s an odd way to respond.” 

Gueria walked back over before standing in front of Lio with crossed arms. “That Galo guy getting in your head or something? This and that is his but he says the rest is ours?” It didn’t sound right hearing it back. “That’s not what I meant,” Lio defended. “I’m just not used to all this.” Lio held himself awkwardly as he looked away, almost shamefully. He wasn’t clarifying much. 

“Then why stay here?” Meis shot daggers at the red head. “Gueira. If he’s happy here, leave him be.” Lio was staring between them, rather shocked from the statements. “He’s still not used to this place. It’s been nine months.” As the two started to argue back and forth, Lio finally came between them. “Alright, break it up.” They weren’t getting aggressive, just showing they cared for the other. 

It was clear that they were upset though. But was it about Lio leaving them? “Honestly, what’s this guy got that we don’t Lio,” Gueira asked with a more calm tone. “He’s a Burning Rescue member. He captured us, he captured so many of us.” “We wanted to get captured to find where they were keeping us,” Lio argued back with slight frustration. “But he didn’t know that!” Meis sighed. He was staying out of it until necessary. Turning back to the microwave, he pulled out the pizza and stood by the counter; watching his entertainment as he ate.

“I’m sorry. Do I need to remind you that he saved me? That he saved all of us? We’d all be dead if he hadn't helped. He isn’t against the burnish, he only had a problem with the fires we started, that’s it. The same goes for the rest of the rescue force. None of them hate burnish. One person can not dictate the beliefs and mindset of those bearing a similar label of identification.” 

The two growled as they leaned in closer. “And his whole promise to protect you from everything people who don’t believe in that do to you? He’s really got you around his finger there Boss.” Lio growled a bit more as he pressed his forehead against the other’s. “Why do you hate him so much? You don’t even know him!” 

“Because you were so quick to trust him and run off with him! For the love of everything you are wearing your work jacket! Your part of the Burning Rescue team!” Lio pulled back with widened eyes before looking away. Gueira looked shocked. Had he just…. broke the boss? Meis sat forward. “Enough, both of you. We’re a family, knock it off.” Lio was quiet as he took off the jacket and laid it on the chair beside him. Goosebumps popped up on his skin from the cool air in the apartment.

“So I’m a traitor?” Gueira looked even more shocked before, now Meis did too. “No one said your a traitor Lio. Look,how about we take a breath before anything else stupid comes out.” Meis glared at the red head as he spoke. “No, I get it. I left the burnish for a guy I hardly knew. Then to make matters worse, I joined the fire fighters.” He shook his head. This wasn’t a good idea, but the others had all the right to be upset with him. 

“Boss, we never said that,” Gueira said with a bit of panic in his voice. Meis leaned forward before taking another bite of his pizza. “What’s on your mind?” Lio still wouldn’t look at them. “I feel like I abandoned you all. I feel like there’s more I could be doing, that I should be doing, but I don’t know what if people don’t approach me about it. I can’t just track everyone down like before. We’re not all in the same area.” 

Purple eyes closed as a sigh escaped soft lips. “Maybe the city was a good idea, our own.” Meis and Gueira looked at each other before going back to the blonde. Lio suddenly squeaked, jumping as a hand squeezed his side. “Hey, what did you do with the Boss, huh?” Meis smirked as he walked around the back of the table to corner the blode. “Yeah, since when is he so insecure?” 

Huh? “What are you two,” he gasped again, cutting off his question. Oh no. Purple eyes widened before fear started to kick in. “Don’t even think about it,” he threatened as he tried to squirm out of the trap. The dark haired male started first, tickling the dark cloth shielding the small frame of the blonde softly. Lio turned his head away from the offending hands, biting his lip to keep from laughing. 

“What Gueira meant was that…. We’ll, we just don’t trust how fast you bonded to that blue idiot. We’re happy for you boss but we just don’t trust these people. You can handle yourself to an extent but we don’t have our flames anymore. You're like a sitting duck.” Four hands started to pinch up and down his sides. To keep his composure, Lio gripped the chair in front of him tightly, moving his body a little to try and avoid the touches. 

“See? By now you would have had flames defending you.” Which would normally encourage them to torment the poor blonde more. “St…. st…. haop!” He was losing it. Meis sighed before moving up to the ribs. “What it boils down to is you have your friends, and we have ours. We weren’t trying to guilt you back.” Gueira nodded before prying hand arm from the chair. 

Lio quickly grabbed onto the other with his free hand, only for both arms to suddenly before lifted overhead. Panic from his mistake hit him quickly. How careless could he have been?! Meis quickly moved behind the smallest, Gueira in front of him. Lio was pinned between the two. A hand held each forearm, keeping both arms over head as Meis dug into the exposed underarms. “Nhahahahaha! N-Nhahahahao! Shahahait- whahahait!” 

Both grinned evilly as memories from living on the run came back. Sure, these three weren’t overly lovey dovey, physically affectionate people; but they had their bonding moments. Tickling down each other sometimes was the closest they really got to that; and it was mainly to mess with each other (or especially Lio). “Where’s that protection now, huh,” Gueira chuckled. “Yeah Boss, where’s that hero of yours?” 

The blonde started to shake his head, not wanting to give either anymore satisfaction than he was. The red head chuckled before yanking Lio forward, quickly catching him and lifting him up from under his bottom. “D-Don’t even,” Lio squealed as he tried to balance himself by pressing his hands against the ceiling. 

“But Lio, we have to test you to make sure your body’ll be able to move in that stupid, tacky armor you need,” Meis said, mocking Lucia’s designs. “Tsk, tsk, you should be taking this job more seriously.” Lio nearly slipped from the ceiling, face bright red; a hand started to squeeze at his thighs. “Ghehehet the hehehell off mhehehehe!”

“Maybe after we work out a few deals here,” Meis started as he started to squeeze higher towards Lio’s butt. The blonde was thankful he had jeans on, it wasn’t as bad as it could be. “For starters, don’t worry about trying to help us with our rent,” Gueira huffed. “You have yourself to worry about. It’s not your job to watch for all of us.” 

There was no response. Slowly, Lio did move to hang himself over the red head’s shoulder as he couldn’t keep his balance much longer. Blonde hair flipped upward as tears started to form. “If you don’t say something your feet are next,” Meis threatened. Lio shook his head, laughing freely before finally choking out something. “What was that,” Gueira asked with a laugh. “Thahahat’s my jahahaob!” Meis shrugged before giving a short break to the blonde. 

Lio didn’t bother to try to pull himself off the taller, nor did he need to. Soon enough, he felt something firm pressing into his lower back. The couch. Shit. He quickly tried to escape, only to get pinned back down to the couch. This time, Meis held him, and Gueira was the executioner. 

Meis had his back to the arm of the couch, his body turned and facing the other. Lio’s upper body lay between his legs; his arms holding him down. “Wrong answer,” Gueira stated as he went to grab an ankle. Lio wasn’t going to make it easy for the red head. He tried kicking him, shoving him, anything he could before he felt a motion on his stomach. 

Purple eyes crinkled shut as his back arched. A snort escaped his mouth before he bounced slightly in Meis’s hold. “Nhahahao sthahaop,” he whimper giggled. “Stop trying to worry about everyone. If we lived in our own city now, you’d be stressed non stop. You wouldn’t see your blue haired friend much, and we’d have to do this a lot more to get you to relax and calm your shit,” Meis whispered into the blonde’s ear. 

Slowly, Lio started to relax as the fingers stopped. He wasn’t sure what to say, just relaxing in his friend's legs. He felt his hair move from his face, Meis wasn’t sure what else to do. “You were right back then. We can’t run away and hide because we’re not wanted. We’re people too, not bugs. We need to stand our ground, and we are. You inspired us to do that Boss. What happens from here isn’t your issue, it’s not been. Your a great leader Boss, but you take too  much responsibility.” 

The words did touch the blonde but all he could do was try to think of lightening the room. “Says the guy who had too little as a leader.” Gueira gasped before digging into the thighs once more. “I get all sentimental for you, and this is what I get? You're lucky I don’t rip these things off you so you can feel the full wrath!”  Lio gauffed out a laugh, fully falling weak into the two’s attack. 

He hadn’t laughed so freely or so much in so long. Body parts flew as he wasn’t going to make this easy on the other two and a few revenge jabs were sent out here and there. 

“Yeah, thanks again Aina,” a voice came, slightly stirring Meis from his sleep. He glanced through half lidded eyes to the door to see the blue idiot. It didn’t fully register as he curled up to sleep more, pulling the weighted heat closer. 

“Oi Lio,” the voice called out rather loudly as the door shut. “I’m ba,” he froze. A hand covered his mouth as his eyes widened. Was he supposed to be seeing this? Meis was in the same position as the night before, his hands up Lio’s shirt for heat. Gueira’s face was facing Galo, eyes shut as he rested on Lio’s stomach; using him as a pillow. His arms were wrapped around the blonde that started to stir a bit. “Mmm?” Gueira grunted at the noise and movement as Meis sighed. “Your boyfriend’s home,” he grumbled before trying to fall back asleep again. “Mmm,” Lio groaned. 

Boyfriend?! Was he supposed to be seeing this? What happened last night? Galo placed his bag down before nodding and awkwardly leaving to sit outside until the others would awaken. He covered his blushing face; he felt like a peeping Tom or something!Well whatever they did, he hoped it helped his friend out of his funk.

[lovelyirony]

"Maybe I’ll see you in another life/if this one wasn’t enough" from Florence + the Machine prompt lists, for winter13, please?

Sharon is no stranger to knowing tragedy. She sees the way Aunt Peggy’s lips curve up and fall slightly when she talks about knowing Steve Rogers. It’s a life that is not defined, not confirmed. But there was possibility. Sharon knows about possibilities. 

When she’s eighteen, she sees him. 

Winter Soldier. 

The legend that Peggy tells her about. 

“I’m not supposed to be telling you,” Peggy whispers. Sharon knows more about SHIELD than she should, but Peggy’s soft when it comes to Sharon. She knows Sharon’s destiny, knows that she needs to know more than the average recruit when she goes into the organization. 

“Be careful,” Peggy says. “The Winter Soldier isn’t a myth. He’s real. They remade a man into what they wanted, and that’s...Sharon, you know how dangerous that is.” 

She does. She knows that this person, whoever they are, will not hesitate to kill. He won’t listen to any pleas or bargains, because that’s not in his code. He will not stop, will not stray from the mission, and will not look at you--he will look through you. 

Her graduation present from her parents is a trip to Europe. She gets to visit Vienna and learn all about old history, carefully taking note of suspicious characters. Peggy has come along to tell her all about World War II and the history of it, rare smiles gracing her face as she explains a prank Sergeant Barnes pulled on the rest of the division or the time Dum-Dum messed up ordering food. 

They see him. 

Winter Soldier is not on a mission for Director Carter--or rather, former Director Carter. He’s on a mission for someone else. 

“We need to follow him,” Peggy says. “Sharon, get the car.” 

Sharon has never driven in Europe before. But she manages just fine as she nervously presses on the gas pedal and they zoom forward. Winter Soldier is chasing after someone, and someone who knows it. 

Aunt Peggy sees red hair and pauses. 

“Sharon, get out of the car. Let me drive.” 

- 

Sharon is not allowed to tell her parents that she met Black Widow, or that Peggy dented the car hood by attempting to run over the Winter Soldier. 

She also does not tell anyone about the fact that as she opened the car door for Black Widow and her charge, that Winter Soldier tore off his goggles and stared. 

That was...unsettling. His eyes were brilliant. She could tell they were a light color from a hundred feet off. 

“This your girl?” Natasha Romanoff asks Aunt Peggy. 

“Yes.” 

“I’m impressed,” she says. “Welcome to SHIELD, Sharon.” 

“I’m not inducted in yet.” 

“You might as well be, facing off the Winter Soldier,” she says with a snort. “Come on. Peggy, we need to start training.” 

Sharon starts during college. She still goes to college, although her heart is not completely in it. She finishes her classes with passing grades, gets a degree in sociology, and moves on. 

Natasha trains with her and she becomes skilled as all hell. 

She still dreams of light eyes staring through her. The dreams are more like nightmares as they get closer and closer. 

- 

She sees him again when she’s in New York helping out with protection at an undercover science delegation meeting. Some of the most influential scientists are the ones you never hear about. Sure, they have published papers, but they also have papers that never see the light of day because it would change the fabric of reality as everyone knows it. 

Winter Soldier doesn’t spare her a glance, not until she launches herself at him to knock him into an alley. 

“Stop,” she hisses. 

Sharon didn’t think this through. She most definitely is not on his skill level, and they both know it. 

“Let me go,” he says, voice almost dead. “I have a mission.” 

“So do I,” she says, “and it involves stopping someone like you.” 

“You miss the point of my existence,” he says, almost robotically. “I am not a someone. I am a something.” 

“You know the difference. Robots don’t,” Sharon says, dodging a fist that goes slamming into concrete. “Now back the hell off.” 

In all of the missions that Winter Soldier can recount, (oh yeah, they’ll let him remember the decapitation but not his own fucking birthday. Classic) most of the agents that are sent to stop him are not this bold. 

Because a.) they realize in the moment that they are outmatched and outclassed in every way that matters, and b.) they have accepted death. 

Not this girl. No, she’s young and she’s fierce but she knows...she knows something. 

This gets him distracted. 

And this allows Sharon to be able to slash a knife down his leg, and it’s not the kind of cut that allows continuation to be done. He would survive, but this is gonna slow him down. 

Begrudgingly, she has his respect. 

- 

He doesn’t tell his handlers about her. He doesn’t know why. Usually he’s fine with revealing anyone who got in his way, and usually someone catches onto the fact that he’s lying and make his brain circuits go pop. But not...not this time. 

They believe the fact that a spare part from a crashed car knicked his leg as he jumped down. They stitch him up, give him a good old brain wipe, and send him to the freezer. He’s not sure when the next year will be, if they’ll even let him out again. 

(There’s a joke about rent insurance in there somewhere.) 

-

Sharon cut the Winter Soldier. She fucking cut the guy who people said would kill you. She got away. 

This isn’t something you brag about. She could but then she’d be an asshole who everyone at the office hates. And instead of them stealing Rumlow’s lunch once a week, it’d be her. 

And she likes that Rumlow keeps bringing quality food. 

She doesn’t tell anyone. Well...Peggy doesn’t count. 

Peggy is riveted, on the edge of her seat. 

“You didn’t,” Peggy swears. “You didn’t!” 

“I did,” Sharon responds. “But I don’t know what he told whoever he works for. I could be dead, Peggy.” 

“Nonsense,” Peggy scoffs. “It’s been more than a week, correct?” 

“A month.” 

“You just told me this today?! And it’s been a month?!” 

“...I didn’t want you to worry.” 

“If you had told me the day of, I would have worried. But if they haven’t sent anyone to kill you, your little escapade is safe. Although it does make me curious...” 

They sip on tea for a while longer and laugh about Sharon’s father, who is fretting about Sharon all over again. It’s a bi-monthly occasion, very entertaining for Peggy, who knows that Sharon knows a little over a hundred ways to incapacitate someone who’s up against her. 

Sharon kisses Peggy goodbye. 

- 

Winter Soldier is woken up for another mission. 

He remembers a woman with blonde hair and a firm ask for him to “stop.” 

There’s a feeling that she’s important. There’s a feeling that Hydra doesn’t know anything about her. 

He’s sent to make sure that SHIELD is destroyed. 

Great. This is gonna go fantastically, he’s sure. 

-

Sharon really knows what’s going on. Peggy had her suspicions, and made sure that Nick Fury thought outside the box. Hell, that he thought outside the universe. She knew that SHIELD would never be pure of intention. Peggy never was, why would her organization be? Humanity isn’t either. 

She knows that Hydra is inside SHIELD and it’s looking for Captain America to be its first example. 

Do they know it’s a Wednesday? Like honestly, it’s a Wednesday. It’s two p.m. She thought she would get herself a pizza tonight, make a wine night. Wine Wednesday. It would’ve been fun. Maybe Natasha could’ve come. 

But no, Hydra decided they wanted to eliminate threats they couldn’t control so now she’s on the run from the guy the next office space from hers and has to deal with Rumlow bitching about people stealing his sandwiches. 

“Your own fault!” Sharon yells, swiping his feet from under him. “You’re also just annoying as fuck!” 

She then has to run. 

She knows that Natasha and some special agent who was in the flight division are helping Steve and maybe Maria. Probably Maria. They wouldn’t have gotten as far as they had if Maria wasn’t in on it or if she was Hydra. 

God, if Maria Hill was Hydra...

Couldn’t think about that travesty now. She has a world to save. 

- 

Steve, naturally, has been sort of a disaster. He makes it functional. She sort of wishes that she could make it functional, but she is not able to have that sort of function in her life, unfortunately. 

He’s wearing his old uniform. She doesn’t know why, just that he’s stupid. She doesn’t care how carefully the restoration workers at the Smithsonian have repaired it, she knows his levels of stupidity. 

And then he turns. 

Winter Soldier. 

Now, apparently, Bucky Barnes. 

What a kick in the goddamn head. 

She can’t even think. She doesn’t want to think, she just charges and kicks him out a window. 

Steve slams the card in, they save the world, and she’s diving after a man with a metal arm. Metal is also falling from the sky, so you could imagine the level of difficulty she is under. 

But she finds him. He’s a heavy guy as she lugs him to the shore, waiting for him to wake up. 

“Who the--?” He’s coughing out water, trying to get up. 

“I’d suggest you take a vacation,” Sharon says. “I think you have a lot of days saved up.” 

Sharon doesn’t know why she leaves him there. She really doesn’t understand why she doesn’t just say “hey, come with me,” and then he decides to join SHIELD and Steve and him can bond over not understanding music apps. 

But he needs to have time to himself, she reasons. 

“You’re insane,” Natasha says to Sharon. Steve is trying to visit Sam and hang out, so they’re doing their own thing. “You let him go?” 

“He needed to find his own life,” Sharon says. “You know Steve likes to define what he knows, and he knows Bucky Barnes. But I think Bucky Barnes isn’t really a sure thing right now. So we’ll find out.” 

“Okay.” 

“Hey. If I’m meant to have him in this life, great. If not, then that is what it is,” Sharon says. 

- 

She doesn’t know that Barnes did not hop a plane to Europe. Not yet, anyway. 

No, he’s a block away in an abandoned office building. He’s not sure what he’s doing, just that he doesn’t want to leave anything yet. 

She may hold answers. Answers that he wants. 

[tss-grimmverse]

Chapter 3: Lilac

i wish you out of the woods

and into a picture with me

The Youngstown Grimms had made it sound like Logan possessed arcane knowledge, and would cast some sort of protective spell over Virgil. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this whole protection business being based on proximity.

Had those Grimms warned Logan that they’d signed Virgil up for college classes? Did they even know how Logan’s “protection” worked? It took Virgil nearly the entire allotted thirty “digestion” minutes to muster the courage to bring it up again.

Honestly, with his track record, that wasn’t so bad.

“So…” he drawled, as the two were slipping on their shoes to leave. “How is this gonna work, anyway?”

“This?” Logan pocketed his phone.

“Me, staying here, with you.” Virgil gestured between them. “Like, do I have to stay within a certain distance for your protection mojo to work?”

“For the time being, yes,” Logan explained as they exited the apartment and started down the stairs. “My long term plan, however, is to make a charm that will shield you in my stead.”

That didn’t sound so bad.

“But I will be able to leave?” Virgil clarified. “Like, during the day or whatever?”

As much as he didn’t mind sharing space with an absurdly gorgeous…if a bit standoffish…guy, being trapped inside day after day would drive him up the wall.

Logan made a noise of assent.

“The charm I intend to make will ensure that our arrangement does not overly restrict your freedom. Shelley has informed me of your intention to attend fall classes at Stetson University.”

‘My’ intention, sure.

Truthfully, art school had simply been the cover story to explain why Virgil would suddenly abandon Ohio and his Faire family. The Youngstown Grimms warned him that the whole Ren Faire circuit wasn’t safe for him anymore, not even as far away as Florida, not when his master had already tracked him down once. He still couldn’t imagine what strings the Grimms had had to pull to get him into a fancy, expensive-as-fuck university on such short notice, with only a GED to his name and no other transcripts…but they had, and they’d told him all his expenses would be covered besides.

Virgil was smart enough to recognize an opportunity when he saw it…and too selfish to turn it down.

“Oh, I suppose I should ask.” Logan paused before they left the stairwell. “How sensitive are you to iron?”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck.

“Cars don’t bother me, if that’s what you’re implying. Most metal doesn’t if it’s refined enough.”

“You are fortunate.” Logan absently thumbed one of his pointed ear tips. “I hypothesize that my sensitivity lies somewhere between that of a true faery and an older changeling. My disguise glamour protects me somewhat, so driving around town is not a problem, but a cross country trip would be…taxing.”

Virgil winced. “That still sucks.”

Logan hummed, adjusted his glasses, and they left the stairwell for the overly bright, bleached parking lot.

Florida, ugh. Virgil squinted in the unrelenting sunlight. No wonder Logan’s house brownie wears sunglasses. He would need to buy a pair of his own, and soon.

Logan unlocked a nearby blue Honda Fit and they climbed in. Virgil observed how Logan’s dark, graceful hands did not linger on either the door handle or the metal seatbelt buckle.

“I can eat stuff cooked in ordinary pots,“ Virgil added as they pulled out of the parking lot. “But cast iron skillets, man…” He shuddered.

“An iron skillet would outright poison me.” Logan grimaced. “Even heavily refined steel is distasteful to cook in.”

That’s why he owns a copper kettle, Virgil realized. Probably all his cooking utensils are copper or aluminum.

“I was shoved into a wrought iron gate once at a Faire,” Virgil went on. “Burned like a bitch, and I only touched it for a few seconds. I haven’t really tested my sensitivities beyond that.”

“I recommend against it.” Logan answered Virgil’s raised eyebrow with a sharp look. “The enmity between iron and Fae is an ancient one. You won’t develop a tolerance.”

Something in the tone spoke of past experience to Virgil. Another little interesting tidbit about the man he’d moved in with.

His charged iPod and headphones lay nestled in his hoodie pocket, but for once, Virgil chose not to tune out the world. Instead he observed Logan’s long fingers on the faux-leather steering wheel, the flex of muscle in his forearms, the crease between his eyebrows as he navigated downtown Deland’s narrow Main Street.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Logan said after a long silence, as though weighing the words. Which of course made Virgil’s anxiety skyrocket.

“What fae abilities do you possess?”

Virgil’s mouth twisted; he’d been dreading that question.

His own hands, caressing bits of straw, color and softness bursting from the hollow shafts. Sewing needles and the dark, metallic scent of blood. Mocking words and cruel fae lips and under it all his power, flowing from his chest into waiting bodies…

Dolls. Abominations.

“I make flowers,” he answered at last.

Logan glanced at him and arched an eyebrow.

Virgil sighed and patted his pockets, finally plucking a loose thread from his hoodie sleeve when nothing else turned up. He laid the tiny string across his palm, and mentally pulled. Warmth blossomed in his chest, like unfolding flower petals, racing down his arm, rippling under his skin, seeping into the thread he held.

It quivered, and expanded, buds bubbling along its length before silently exploding into leaves, the end growing bulbous and green and peeling into delicate violet petals and a yellow center.

He stuck the newly created forget-me-not, stem barely as long as his pinky finger, behind his ear.

“Go on, you can say it,” he challenged, chancing a look at Logan, whose expression hadn’t changed. “Sixteen fucking years in Arcadia, and I end up with the most useless changeling power in existence.”

It was safer, disparaging his magic like it really was nothing but flower-making. Those Grimms in Ohio would never have helped me if they knew what I was, and why my master wanted me back.

The half-faery’s eyes were a mystery behind his glasses. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

But then they were pulling up to an ordinary suburban house and Logan was parking the car, and Virgil had a whole different, slightly more ordinary situation to fret over.

Interacting with people.

“Come,” Logan said, getting out. “Time to meet Nicodemus.”

Virgil dearly hoped ’Nicodemus’ wasn’t another brownie, or a pixie or a hobgoblin, or…

To Virgil’s vast relief, Nicodemus turned out to be a brown Labrador that barked joyously at Logan’s arrival and spent the next five minutes on its hind legs, eagerly licking the half-faery’s face.

Logan rubbed the dog’s head, heedless of the spit bath, and exchanged words and money with the gray-haired woman of the house. Virgil gathered that she often watched Logan’s dog when he was away. The two of them, dog bouncing between, carried a crate full of hairy blankets, some dishes, and several toys out to Logan’s car.

Virgil hung back in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets, hoping he wouldn’t be called over to socialize. He stiffened when woman gestured towards him, and Logan said something at length. Virgil shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets, wondering what excuses Logan gave to people for his changeling houseguests over the years.

Nicodemus trotted over, eyeing Virgil with curious black eyes.

“Hey…boy.” Virgil gingerly held out a hand. The dog sniffed it, sneezed, and gave his fingers a few licks. (Virgil grimaced and wiped them on his hoodie).

“I was hoping he would like you.”

Virgil startled, having not heard Logan approach. “Is that…what the licking means?”

The half-faery’s mouth twitched in a tiny smile.

“Thank you again, Stephanie!” he called, waving as the woman went inside. “Nic, come!”

Nic leaped obediently into the car’s back seat and settled with his snout just above Virgil’s shoulder.

“I suppose it is a bit late to inquire whether you are amenable to sharing a living space with an animal,” Logan commented in an uncharacteristically wry voice.

Virgil shrugged, reaching back to pet Nic’s neck.

“Dogs are okay, I guess. I’ve never had a pet, so…I don’t know much about taking care of them or whatever.”

Logan waved a hand. “I would expect no such thing. Nic is my responsibility.”

“Um, speaking of responsibility.” Virgil rubbed at the back of his neck. “I was thinking I should probably start looking for a job? So I can, you know, help out with rent and stuff?”

“Why?”

There was no judgement in Logan’s tone; only curiosity.

“I dunno, I just don’t want to be a freeloader.” Virgil shrugged, his shoulders hunched. “The Youngstown Grimms are already paying for all my school stuff and honestly I feel kinda bad about that.”

“I wouldn’t.” Logan raised an eyebrow at Virgil shocked face. “Do you truly think that an organization run by changelings, some of whom can literally transform physical objects into other objects, would have issues obtaining something as mundane as money?”

Virgil’s mouth twisted and he touched the flower still stuck in his ear…the forget-me-not he’d grown from magic and a bit of loose thread. Maybe making random objects bloom wasn’t terribly useful…but sometimes he forgot that such power was still extraordinary from a normal perspective.

Knowing that didn’t make his insecurities go away.

“Look, I dunno what they told you about me, but I was on the road with a Renaissance Faire for nearly two years before De…” Virgil swallowed, unwilling to say even the made-up name aloud. “Before my faery master found me. We didn’t have a lot and we never stayed in one place for long, but it was a good life, you know? They were the closest people I’d had to a family on the outside. And we all worked hard; you had to, to keep the Faire running. Everyone earned their keep.”

Logan hummed, rubbing a finger absently on the steering wheel. “Do you fear letting others pay your way will give them too much control over your life?”

Virgil picked at a rip in his skinny jeans. Logan was not as oblivious as his stilted language would suggest.

“I…yeah. I guess?”

“I am financially solvent enough to support myself and anyone the Grimms send to me, for however long that individual needs to stay.” Logan shot Virgil a look, his stormy eyes softening slightly. “However, I will not be offended if you wish to obtain employment and ‘earn your keep’, as you put it.”

Virgil leaned his head against the window glass, his lungs tight with memories, with fears, with feeling like any joy he scratched out of the barren soil of this existence would always be one faery whim away from being crushed.

Again.

“It’s just, last week I had a life,” he admitted softly. “Now suddenly it’s gone, and I feel a little…lost, I guess.”

Logan drummed thoughtful fingers on the steering wheel.

“Where were you initially rescued?” he asked. “Not four days ago, but when you first left Arcadia?”

Virgil didn’t quite suppress a shudder at the word Arcadia.

“Somewhere in Pennsylvania, I think,” he answered lowly. “Some Grimms…not Youngstown; a different chapter…shut down an illegal trade between two minor Courts. My master was…”

He swallowed, unwilling to admit his faery master had been a fetch-dealer, that the operation those Grimms shut down that day had been a fetch trade. Trafficking in human dolls was the only Unseelie vice specifically forbidden by the Accords themselves. Faeries caught using them in their kidnappings earned an immediate price on their heads. And human thralls forced by said faeries to make those dolls…well.

The usually went mad.

The whole mess carried a well-deserved stigma.

“Let’s just say he was involved in a lot of shady Unseelie shit,” Virgil muttered, looking out the window again.

Logan’s fingers traced the wheel again, his gaze on the road but somehow also miles away.

“You escaped in the confusion?” he prompted.

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah. I hitchhiked to upstate New York and met old Betsy in a bar.” He smiled at the memory. “She introduced me to her Faire buddies and the rest was history.”

“And you were with them for two years?”

Virgil frowned.

“Yeah. What’s with the twenty questions?”

They’d reached the apartment lot; Logan turned off the car.

“Shelley and the Youngstown Grimms were wise to send you to me,” he said cryptically as they got out and opened the back hatch. It felt like the half-faery was changing the subject, though Virgil couldn’t say why.

“You know, before I left, Shelley told me that you asked for me.” Virgil narrowed his eyes. “When they told you my situation, they said you wanted me to come.”

Logan wore an unidentifiable expression as he hefted Nic’s crate from the back. Virgil moved to help. The shared burden made it easy for the half-faery to not meet Virgil’s gaze as they moved upstairs, Nic following placidly at their heels.

“I wanted you to come because I am in a unique position to keep you safe,” Logan allowed at last, adjusting his glasses with one hand. “Both because of my heritage, and because Florida is such a long distance from your previous life.”

Virgil liked to think he had an excellent trollshit detector, mostly because his Fae master had been, among other things, a master liar. Body language, tics, tone of voice. Everyone had tells, even stoic half-faeries with extraordinary control over their facial expressions.

Logan was not lying…but he was definitely fae-dancing around something.

“If we are able to keep you out of sight long enough,” Logan went on, “it is possible that he will give up looking. As much as faeries love the chase, a single human thrall is, for better or for worse, simply not worth their time in the end.”

Unless that thrall was a fetch-maker.

Virgil swallowed hard. Well, if Logan wasn’t going to share his secret, Virgil sure as hell wasn’t revealing his own.

“So you’re saying I’m not worth their time?” he quipped instead, attempting to lighten the mood as they reached the top of the stairs. “Now I’m not sure whether to be relieved or insulted.”

Logan cocked his head. “I…had meant the words to be comforting. Did they not come across as such?”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“How are you that literal? I was kidding.”

“Oh.” Logan frowned, shifting the crate to adjust his glasses again. “My colleagues tell me I am, in their words, ‘spectacularly’ inept at detecting sarcasm.”

Virgil swallowed a smirk. No shit, Sherlock.

“You’re gonna have a hard time with me, then.”

“Well, surely with sufficient communication we will…” Logan trailed off, and narrowed his eyes. “Ah. That was another joke.”

“You’re learning.” Virgil made a finger gun with one hand, prompting an answering eye roll.

Logan fished out his keys and the two guided the crate into the apartment. Nic bounded down the hallway and into Logan’s room; a smiling, irate Logan on his heels, grumbling that he’d better stay off the bed.

For a moment, Virgil breathed in the pleasant scent of the apartment, and listened to the soft sounds of Remy snoring in his cabinet, and allowed something like hope to lighten his heart.

He missed Ohio, but…this really wasn’t so bad.

“Oh for goodness sakes, really Nic?” Logan’s irritated voice drifted into the living room, followed by the man himself, holding a mangled stuffed animal. “That dog, I swear. Every time I have to leave him in another’s care, he destroys at least one of his toys.”

He made to toss the toy in the garbage, but Virgil scurried forward to stop him.

“Hang on, let me see,” he murmured, taking the toy and turning it over in his hands. It was a stuffed lion, chubby and smiling, with a squeaker in its belly. Stuffing was poking out of several messy rips, and the head was dangling by a mere thread.

“Yeah, I can definitely fix this. Do you have needle and thread?”

Logan nodded and went back into his bedroom, which Virgil barely noticed as he pressed fluff back inside and located all the busted stitches with practiced fingers. Logan reappeared with a sewing kit.

Virgil settled on the couch with the toy.

For a time the world faded; there was only cotton, yielding under his fingers; ragged edges folded and hidden; slick metal needle parting cloth and perfect stitches pulled tight. The satisfaction of tying the last knot and examining the body, ready to breathe life into its flowery heart and flaccid limbs, hear its first cries…

Virgil pulled out of the memory with a gasp, hand closing reflexively around the repaired lion, making it squeak. Slowly his surroundings filtered back in, easing the panicky tightness in his chest: couch, counter, front door, Remy’s cabinet. He was safe and out of Arcadia, out of Arcadia, and Deceit does not know where I am.

Logan sat in the chair opposite the couch, eating a sandwich and watching Virgil. A plate piled with more sandwiches sat on the coffee table between them.

How did he have time to make all those? How…how long has he been watching me?

Virgil flexed his sore right hand, trying to look casual but borderline freaking out on the inside.

He could have seen everything, I was seconds away from bringing that stuffed animal to life because it’s been so long and I got caught up, he’s gonna know what my power really is…

“Um, I think I’m done,” he muttered, gripping the lion and making it squeak again. An answering bark from the back bedroom made Virgil startle.

“May I?” Logan asked, holding his hand out for the toy.

Virgil held his breath as Logan pulled at the stitching, tugged at the head, waiting for the half-faery to call out how weird he’d just acted. But Logan only nodded.

“Excellent. This is one of Nic’s favorites; I know he will appreciate having it back in one piece.”

He stood and flashed Virgil a half smile, one that made his pulse race.

“Eat, I made plenty,” Logan added, gesturing at the plate and then disappearing into his bedroom.

Virgil let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and ran shaking hands through his hair. The fading tightness in his lungs shifted into dull, stabbing pinpricks, making him hiss softly. It felt like thorns, choking his heart, brushing his ribcage with every movement.

The needle he still held in his fingers swelled and burst into flower: a single bunch of tiny purple blossoms framed by soft emerald leaves. Virgil bit his lip hard, tasting blood.

Lilac.

No, no, no, I had my power under control, I swore never again…he clenched his fists hard, crushing the delicate flower stalk, nails imprinting on his palms. Virgil focused on that pain, determined to push the dangerous feelings down, focused on his breathing, in for four, hold for seven, out for eight, come on, Virgil…

The stabbing ebbed and he drew a deep, unsteady breath.

I’m safe here.

I’m safe.

And I can’t ever tell Logan what I was.

Purple lilac: first emotions of love

[polygamyff]

57. Part 2

Walking into meeting room “Kellen, thank you for coming” sitting down “well you called so I came but I kind of know why” I had to laugh, he is not that slow now “well if you know then why is she here?” I questioned, I don’t need her to be around she is a bitch “because when your son is right there and she is pushing him in my face and telling me I can’t see him, the court proceeding is taking too long, you have your daughter with you. I didn’t know she was coming; she came with my son. I was happy to see him; I didn’t do this for anybody else. I get she is using my son against me, but I need to see him. She came and she wanted a room here, so I gave mine up and I know she kicked off” licking my top lip staring at Kellen, thinking on what I can do to make this shit go away “she is unstable Kellen, she can’t be there. She cannot be at any event because it’s not about Tiffany, she is making it about herself because she is a self-centred bitch. She will cause issues, you need to tell her to leave that child with you, threaten her, I don’t care. She cannot be there, it can’t happen. I have been waiting for this moment just for some thot you got to ruin it? No, you sort it Kellen or you and your family can fuck off out of here. You should be glad my dad even remotely cares because all of you don’t mean shit to me. I am done, all of you are going to come for me after this because y’all have to get jobs” Kellen shook his head in annoyance “why can’t we just bring our kids up differently? Why can’t we? We was bought up to hate you Maurice!” Kellen shouted “to knock you off your spot, Maurice is the new prince. My dad to obey you!? You want that but he ain’t going to give you that, I will because I want to be still in the business, why can’t we just be different!” he is spitting the truth but I don’t trust him “then you deal with Tiffany before I do, and you know how that will end up. She will be on the streets with no fucking baby. Don’t start me off Kellen, sort it out!” getting up from the chair “nobody likes you Maurice” Kellen said “I know, they was waiting outside my hospital room thinking I was dying. I know” walking off “but I don’t” I don’t care for how he feels, I can never trust him in my life.

Putting the paper down “that is fine, what I want you to do is if there is hotel charges, any damages. You charge them, did you take a card from them to put down against the room?” looking over at the management of this hotel “no, no sir we didn’t because they are family?” I sighed out “so what to do, go to every room that is my family member and take it. I think there is a lot of sour faces that will be acting out ok?” he nodded his head “hi” looking away from the manager and at the person saying hi at the front desk “hello” I said “hi, I have received an email that my booking got cancelled but I have been booked under Adam Selman, he is here to do Robyn throughout this week?” letting out an oh “it got cancelled, he is managing the hotel so he will deal with this. He will get you a room somehow” he can deal with that, walking off “if it isn’t the man himself behind the front desk. The very man that ruined a lot of friendships” I just knew I would see her “Tiffany grow up, you did that all by yourself” she is going to follow me and meet me at the end as I leave the front desk “I wish you didn’t meet Robyn, you took my friend” this is what I didn’t want “now is not the time” smiling at the workers as I walked by them “then when is the time” she got in my way “never, Tiffany. This is over, we have moved on. You’re trying to prove a point, but it doesn’t make sense, Robyn has moved on, I have moved on. We are done, you can sell a story I don’t care because pretty much, I am good over here, Robyn is good, my daughter is good. You’re just here because nobody is giving you attention” her friends are here now “Tiffany, if you want to keep those Dior bags and this lifestyle I suggest you back up. Kellen will be working elsewhere and he won’t be getting paid what he does now, because you and I both know he doesn’t have a brain, he only got into these colleges because of money and the people we know, I am being nice now. Don’t make your child to be as fucked up as you. And don’t forget you are not Robyn that you can take a Davenport to court, because she would get a hell of a pay-out, you can’t even amount to her even in taking someone to court. You take him court he has nothing; you won’t get shit because it’s mine, it’s my name on this. Not even child support you will get because you can’t take me to court. You are nothing” walking closer to her “you don’t know me, the real me. I am being nice, you listen loud and clear, I will let this child roam around being a Davenport still. I can call up my lawyer and make your existence to my family gone and trust me. You search Naomi Davenport, she doesn’t exist. I won’t buy you and I won’t pay you; I will just make you disappear. You can either accept the blessing you got which is the baby or you can fuck up yours and his life. Anyways, I have things I need to do” walking by her, Tiffany looks like I just slapped her, but I spoke the truth.

“Daddy is home!” Robyn spat “wait how did you get in?” she asked “I told you, I am the man of the house. Awww Mi Amor, what is this messy face all about” pressing a kiss to her cheek “eeww, I just tasted your nasty baby food. Why are you in your diaper too?” Reign held up a piece of watermelon up to me and she really is babbling shit to me “don’t you talk shit to me, and I am back. And I have dropped your mother off at work and then went to my hotel to check on things” hearing Reign whine out trying to give me this watermelon, looking down at her “you want to feed papa? But baby, you stank. Like you need a bath, why do you let her be like this?” looking at Robyn and she looks so offended “says you! You’re worse than me but because I am giving her a bath I am letting her be a baby and do what she needs. And she was feeling warm” shaking my head “what is mommy like” Reign is really sat in this highchair fake crying because I am not eating it “ok, fine” I hummed as I leaned down to Reign, opening my mouth. Gripping my teeth on the watermelon but Reign decided to push it in my mouth “mhmm” moving my head back, as the watermelon fell on the tray “eew” I said wiping my mouth, Reign clapped laughing “you are my daughter, thank you Reign. Now sit down” Robyn said, I am a mess now “you need to get me a new top out now, eew” walking around the highchair “I am honestly shocked you have allowed Reign to make such a mess” pulling the chair back “I woke up, felt sick and then she cried. I just feel like shit, so I am just like whatever” poking my lips out to her “not easy is it, were you not well with Reign?” I mean obviously I wasn’t around as much “I don’t know, it was either the heartbreak or the baby that was making me ill” Robyn raised an eyebrow saying “mhmm so the baby then” Robyn laughed “be quiet, so you dropped my mother off at work, how was that?” Robyn looks so pale “erm, it was ok. We just spoke on a lot of things. Secret things, so yeah” I grinned “don’t annoy me” I chuckled, she is so serious.

Robyn is supposed to come with me to find a suit but I have to do this blood transfusion so I can either lie or tell the truth but lies is no good “I was thinking we could find a holiday home here, rent it out and then when we need it we can use it?” I am talking shit because I know Robyn will just drive me crazy “I mean we can just rent; I don’t want no home in the Hollywood hills, they seem a little crazy. Maybe crackheads, the lot of them” I snorted laughing “but what about a home on the beachfront? Something nice?” I am just buying time, clearly “anyways, I need to go suit shopping later. I have to go and get my uhm, blood done” I said pointing at my arm “for what? Are you ok!?” Robyn froze halfway eating, staring at me “uh yes, I am ok. Promise just need a transfusion. This will help with the pain, that is all” Robyn let out an oh “so you called the doctor and told them you were having issues? Awww, proud of you” nodding my head slowly “yes, that happened. So, I need to do that first, see if I feel ok after that. It’s long so I don’t want it-” Robyn pointed at me “you have it! seriously, we have the honeymoon to happen and some other things for your birthday. I can’t have you unwell, I mean it. You go! I will drop you off, or would you like me to come with you?” shaking my head “I am ok thank you, but you can drop me off” Robyn smiled at me “you know when you have that you are going to feel so alive, so much better. That always happens, more energy so we can have some sex tonight. You look so tired though, I am actually so happy you are having it and you told, you know what that is?” she questioned “what?” I retorted confused “growth, I love you” smiling lightly “love you too” Robyn will be on my case if I told her the times I cancelled, let me keep this detail to myself.

I cheesed at Robyn “you’re such a baby, stop it” she pushed my face back “I like when you drive me around, you know these hands don’t do hard work. You’re my driver” moving back in the seat as I smiled to myself “never said though, Tiffany is at the hotel. I got a miss call from the hotel, but Ally told me. She said that she demanded a room, that is why the hotel called me but then Kellen came down gave his room up for her and the baby, also her friends. She has friends, shocking. So, I caught up with him, told him he needs to control her. She is not invited to anything, she is using the child saying he has rights, so I was dealing with some things at the front desk. The hotel is so busy, so I was checking on who is there, I see her. She came at me, I just told her that she leaves me the fuck alone or I will take it further. I will get rid of Kellen and then he won’t have a job, he can’t provide for you on top of that. This life she lives is my money, I am paying him to do a job. I said it in a angrier tone, she was taken aback by it. I am not going to have her in any of them places, the baby is fine” I thought I would tell Robyn that “I am glad it was you that said it, she just wants that life. She assumed getting with Kellen and that his family owned Davenport hotels, she assumed that she did better then me which is bullshit. Now I am doing better then her, she now wants to do better. It’s a vicious circle and now she is miserable with a baby she is using. It’s sickening, why hasn’t Kellen taken that child from her!? What is he playing at” Robyn has got a point, why hasn’t Kellen got some right over that child “I wish I knew Bonita” Kellen has by tonight to sort that shit out, I am not fucking with that.

[providentially-demonic]

Necromantic Mistakes

Based on this drawing by @ectoimp. 

Arthur had always dreamed in technicolor, bright violets and soft blues and warm reds filling his restless sleep. After that night in the cave, the colors changed, acid greens and splashes of bold crimson and delicate pinkish-purples that did their best to drive the other, less pleasant colors away. Nights after their reunion with Vivi had been better, sea tones creeping back into his slumber, and holding the line against the darker shades.

Tonights dream was different, first in that he was certain he was dreaming and second, that everything was black except for a hellish orange light that wrapped around his limbs, holding him immobile one moment and then forcing reluctant movement that he fought against with everything in him, remembering with terror the last time his body had moved without his permission. He looked down at his arms, trying to claw at the lurid orange that held him, but his claws weren’t there, replaced with blunt nails on massive tanned hands below white sleeves. He knew those hands, having clung to them desperately, both before and after the cavern.

LEWIS!

He came awake like a drowning man, gasping for air and flailing against the sheet tangled around his legs, claws scoring great rents in the linen. His wings beat the air frantically and he tumbled off the couch where he’d been napping.

Unlike the graceless awakening, he landed in a neat crouch, legs tucked under him, ready to spring at some unseen enemy, wings mantled and tail lashing like an angry cat’s. A low growl rumbled in his chest.

Vivi, curled up in an overstuffed armchair with a book, yelped in startlement, the book going flying.

“Artie? Are you okay? What happened?” She sprang to her feet and rushed to him, coming to an abrupt halt a foot away as his growl deepened. “Arthur?” she offered cautiously, empty hands held out soothingly.

It took a moment to orient himself. He straightened up, but the growl wouldn’t stop, only lowering to underscore his words as he asked. “Vivi? Where’s Lewis?”

She relaxed when he came up out of the crouch, her expression settling into a familiar one, the mulish frown she got when she couldn’t make someone understand something. “He and  Mystery went to the store to pick up food for the weekend. I’m hoping they’ll actually talk, not just glare at each other the entire time.” Lewis still hadn’t quite forgiven Mystery for the cave though he mostly kept his temper under control.

Arthur didn’t respond with his usual “Good luck with that.” Sniffing, he prowled to the door and then outside, shifting unconsciously into the faster gait that using his wings afforded him. He loped back and both in front of the cabin a couple of times before heading down what was now a well-worn path through the underbrush to the hidden spot where they parked the van. Vivi followed him but he had no mind for her, all his attention on that tenuous feeling of wrongness that had been burning under his breastbone since waking. It strengthened the farther he got down the path.

Vivi had the sense not to distract him, only trotting grimly in his wake, her baseball bat clenched in white-knuckled hands.

The van wasn’t parked there, and Arthur moved unerringly over the crushed grasses toward the road. He hesitated only long enough at the edge of the trees to be sure no one was coming and loped out onto the blacktop, turning toward town after a moment of hesitation.

Vivi gamely tried to keep up with his quadrupedal stride, but kept falling behind. As much as it chafed, Arthur stopped and turned back to her. He dropped into a crouch, wings held carefully out to the side. “Climb on.”

Vivi huffed but obeyed, settling herself against him, piggyback. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and pinning her bat between her stomach and his back, wrapped her arms around his neck. He carefully tucked his hands under her hips and hoisted her up, shifting back into the strange, wing-aided locomotion.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on, Artie?” She asked in his ear.

Most of his attention still on that wrong feeling, he answered her absently. “Something bad happened to Lewis.”

“What?!” Her shout startled him and he missed a stride, staggering. “How do you know?”

Recovering, Arthur hiked her back up into position. “I-it’s a little hard to explain. Y’know how Lewis and I had been practically in each other’s pockets, when we were tr— stuck in the cave? And even after, living in the cabin, we’ve been really close. Sometimes, like— I know when he’s— he’s having a, he calls ‘em ‘moments’— but they’re basically breakdowns, when it hits him again, what happened. Him dying and me— turning into this.” The sound of an engine reached them and Arthur darted off the road and into the treeline. When the car had passed, Arthur took to the road again. “I know when they’re coming and do my best to help him through them, and I can always tell when it’s working. I kinda sense it, I guess. That dream I had, that I woke up all weird from? I knew something had happened to him.”

“That’s strange,” Vivi said thoughtfully. “I had no idea you were... sounds like you’re empathic.”

“Dunno if that’s what you’d call it, honestly. I just know when something’s wrong, and right now—? It’s way wrong.”

He missed his stride again, but this time it wasn’t any of Vivi’s doing. This time it was because of the sight ahead of him, the van pointing back towards the way they had come, pulled onto the graveled edge, driver’s door hanging forlornly open. Vivi cursed in his ear, and he let her down, his attention centered on the van and the door standing sadly open.

He let his clawed fingers brush the metal, warm in the sun, as Vivi circled the van, to report that the back door was hanging open too. Arthur concentrated his attention on that tenuous feeling of Lewis. His nose twitched, reporting an acrid scent, and suddenly he knew what he was smelling, the sour fear-sweat of three other men. He hadn’t even known he could do that, and he tried to catalogue every bit of information as quickly as he could, before this new heightened sense abandoned him. One of them had a musky, dry-paper odor that it took a minute to recognize. He was still trying to place it when Vivi spoke up.

“It can’t have been that long ago,” Vivi reported, pulling her hand from one of the bags of groceries he could see over the back of the seats. “The refrigerated stuff that he didn’t manage to cram into the cooler,” She flicked a finger at the sadly battered ice chest. “— Is still cool to the touch.”

He itched his nose with a blunted claw. “Don’t ask me how I can suddenly do it, because I don’t know— but I can smell three other people— men— here. The were afraid. One of them smells like—” he brightened, finally able to place the smell. Vivi was not a casual drinker but she used sake— rice wine— in her spells sometimes. “Like alcohol, specifically sake.”

Vivi frowned. “Why booze? Unless one of them needed some liquid courage?” Then she brightened. “Can you track them that way?”

“Do I look like a bloodhound? I barely even knew how to do this much!” Arthur grimaced, gesturing at himself.

Vivi flicked the tip of his nose. “Okay, but how did you get this far?”

Batting her fingers away, Arthur scowled at her. “Because this is the only road to the store, dammit!”

“Before that. You knew Lewis was in trouble. How?” Vivi folded her arms, implacable.

“I— I dreamed it.”

“You said it, yourself. Because you two are connected.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Vi! Do you think I wouldn’t be right behind him if it did?” Arthur growled.

“Then tell me, which way didn’t they go?”

His left wing unfolded and stabbed the thumb-claw toward the way they had come. Arthur stared at his wing in consternation. “How—?”

Vivi stepped close enough to cup his cheek. “Because you are connected. You can find him through that. Now, c’mon. Help me track down our boyfriend.”

Arthur flushed a muddy brown color. “Vi! He’s not— we’re not—!”

“Only because we never asked formally, you silly greenbean.” Vivi chided. “But we can talk about that later— let’s go get him back first. Onward, noble steed!”

“Vivi!”

“Don’t you Vivi me. You’re faster than I am, even carrying me.” She folded her arms and nodded firmly. “Let’s go find our ghost.”

Arthur snorted at her, but climbed up into the van. The keys were still in the ignition, another worrying sign, but it made it easier. “We’ll take the van as far as we can. Hopefully we won’t have to go off-road again.”

Vivi rolled her eyes but shut the rear door and slid into the passenger’s seat. “Aww, no fun, I wanted to go charging into battle astride my noble steed!”

“No.” Arthur started the van and followed the strange link he had to Lewis. It led them down the dusty highway and to a graveled road running between between two wheat fields. Even in the van, they could not see over the tops of the rows. After he’d gone a few miles, Arthur stopped the van. “We’re close. Should probably go on foot from here.  I don’t know if whoever took Lewis and Mystery are expecting us.”

Vivi nodded grimly. “Expected or not, they’re getting us and my bat to the face if they try to stop us.”

Arthur didn’t lock the van, but took the keys, just in case they needed to make a quick getaway. They slid into the waving wheat, headed for the dark treeline that marked the end of the field. The ground rose slightly underfoot and the closer they got to the trees, the more rocks poked out of the earth. It was much darker under the branches and instinctively Arthur hurried his pace. He didn’t like the feel of this place, with its tangled branches and utter absence of the almost welcoming feel of the forest around their cabin. Vivi clung close to his side.

The strip of trees ended abruptly, marked by the tumbledown remains of a wooden fence that was easily stepped over. Beyond it was a stretch of blacktop. “Where are we?” Vivi murmured softly. “It feels like I should know— Arthur?”

Arthur was frozen in place, his wings half-spread and the tuft of hair on the end of his tail puffed like that of a frightened cat. His clawed feet were inches from the shattered remains of a boulder— one that almost looked— scorched. “I— it can’t be.”

He reached a shaking hand out and carefully brushed his fingers over the stone. There was  faint tingle in his fingertips, but nothing like the remembered sting.

He looked up, and up, at where the ground had risen steeply, and into the eerie face of the last place he had ever wanted to see again.

He started shaking so hard his wings rattled. “Vi—” his voice came out small and frightened. “I—”

Vivi was right beside him. “Hey, Arthur, breathe.”

He sucked in a gulp of air that lodged in his throat like a stone. “The cave—”

Vivi’s eyes widened in understanding and she glanced up at the menacing face of the craggy rocks. “Oh— I thought it looked familiar.”

Arthur had never had clearer proof of the fact that there were still some tiny gaps in her memory. She remembered most everything that had happened, but once in a while she would get a puzzled look when there was a blank. He bit hard on his bottom lip, the sting of his fang breaking skin giving him something to ground himself with. Gulping a deep breath, he shook himself all over, like a wet dog. “C’mon. W-we have to save Lewis....and Mystery.”

Still gripping her bat with the other, she slipped the fingers of one hand into his. He gave her fingers a squeeze, and started forward, avoiding the blackened remains of the boulder that had seal— He shook that thought off. No. Saving the others was all that mattered.

The entrance to the cave was much like how he remembered it, but for the tattered remains of some yellow, ‘Police line- Do Not Cross’ tape fluttering in the breeze from the entrance. It was a stark reminder of just what they had left in the cave.

At the fork in the path, he was torn between relief and dismay that the faint feeling of Lewis led to the lower path. He didn’t think he had the nerve to climb the other way, not again. Not ever. But he still didn’t want to see the lower part. Most of his memories of it were hazy with fever and delirium, but he knew what they would find. The police might have removed Lew— the remains, but he was betting the signs of what had happened were still there. The closer they got to the bottom of the cave, the tenser he got. “Vi— I gotta warn you, um— we— we both fell down here... It’s not— not gonna be a pretty sight.”

Her button nose scrunched, Vivi glanced around. “Wasn’t it... greener?”

She was right. Though the cave was still smelled of dank stone, and water dripped somewhere in the distance, the green fog that had characterized most of his earlier memories of the cave was gone. Gone but not forgotten, he thought as he stretched a wingtip into his line of sight as a balance over a rough patch. That green tone was now a part of him, as much as his hated claws.

“The mist is gone.” He knew his tone sounded a little short, but Vivi gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

The tunnel before them opened up and Arthur instinctively flinched from the sight of the towering stalagmites. Several of them were stained a disturbing rust brown, and other, less pleasant colors. Behind her glasses, Vivi’s eyes went wide and she made a sick sound low in her throat, dropping her bat to clap fingers over her mouth.

Arthur stopped in front of her, lifting a wing to block her view of the offending stones. “Hey, Vi, breathe.  C’mon, it’s okay.”

Her eyes were wet as she irritatedly glared up at him. “It is not okay, you ninny!. I just— how badly you two must have suffered—?” She waved past his blocking wing. “I knew, I can remember some of it, but—” Her voice broke on a choked sob and she lunged forward to squeeze him tightly around the waist.

Arthur curled wings and tail around her, holding her close. He gave her the minute she needed, the closeness, the reassurance. But he couldn’t give her more than that. “It was bad, for both of us. But we have to find Lew and get him out of here, okay? Everything else, it can wait.”

Vivi pursed her lips and Arthur could almost hear her thinking that they had waited too long to talk about this, but she had to concede the point. Being here wasn’t doing her any good, certainly wasn’t doing Arthur any good, and she was sure Lewis was no better off. She lifted a balled fist and scrubbed at her stinging eyes. “R-right. We have to find Lewis.”

Arthur heaved a sigh and drew his wings back, but his tail, as usual, had a mind of it’s own and clung tightly to Vivi’s waist. She didn’t seem to mind, running her fingers briefly over the tuft of hair at the end, before groping for the bat she had dropped in her desperate hug.

Arthur shivered the skin of his wings a little, trying to shake off the sick feeling that just being here gave him. It took a long moment before he was able to get back the concentration needed to find the tiny trace of Lewis. It led further down, away from the fatal stone spires. He hadn’t even known there was more to the cave, but past the field of stalagmites the floor dropped into a slope, rough walls crowding close. It— felt older here— not just in the age of the cave, but like they were headed into a place never meant for human eyes.

He could still see easily enough, but Vivi’s steps had slowed, faltering. She stumbled a little and clung to his arm to steady herself. “I can’t see anything,” she muttered softly. “A flashlight would be nice, but I don’t want whoever took them to see us coming.”

Arthur managed a weak huff of laughter. “You just want to ride in on your ‘noble steed’.”

“How dare.” Vivi poked the arm she clung to. “But, yes. Onward, my faithful mount.”

“Watch it or I’ll—”

“What?”

Grumbling, Arthur crouched and guided her back into place on his back, dropping his wingtips to the floor for balance, until she was settled. “Just hold on,” he muttered, dropping back down into the graceless, but infinitely faster, strange wing-aided movement he had developed.

The way narrowed again, and Arthur could hear the plinking of water. This part of the cave was still live, with water still shaping the rocks. He could smell wet stone, and although the cave appeared in gray-scale, he could see where water had smoothed the tunnel floor, the rock damp beneath his feet and wing-claws.

A sound echoed to him and he froze in place, straining to hear better. There was silence and then a mournful sound, almost a whine, rebounded from the stone around them. This time Vivi heard it to and stiffened against his back, her grip on his shoulders tightening. “Mystery—” she breathed.

He sped his pace, blunted claws sometimes slipping on the increasingly damp stone. He could now hear voices, carried by the acoustics of the tunnel, but could not make out what they were saying. None of them were Lewis’s familiar baritone though, and fear clenched his heart in an ice-cold fist. He rounded a curve in the tunnel, and suddenly could see color again, the warm amber and reds of firelight, glowing softly from further ahead.

“ — Isn’t it working?”

“I don’t know. This is where he died, the spell led us to this cave and we gathered his blood from the rocks. It should be working!” The voice, heavy with an unfamiliar accent, growled angrily.

Arthur crouched and let Vivi slide down off his back. She edged forward, back to the wall.

Another whine, louder this time, brought a curse. “Dose the beast again, it’s ruining my concentration!”

“I doubt it’s the beast ruining your concentration,” a third voice added, sarcasm dripping from the tone. “And you might want to try a little harder. We’re running out of sake and I don’t wanna be here when that wakes up from the stupor.”

“Then, shut up and let me work. Do your job instead of harping on about that,” answered the accented voice. “Once the spell works, we’ll have all the power of this revenant at our fingertips and you won’t have to worry your pretty little head about the oversized mutt.”

“I’m gonna enjoy using your pet ghost to fry this stupid kitsune.” The first speaker muttered. “Look what it did to my hand!”

“I told you not to get so close!”

“And how else were you intending to get the stuff down it’s gullet? You’re just lucky that I realized what it was back there in the store. You two have no idea how to deal with anything that’s not a ghost!”

“Two hundred dollars worth of booze should put anything on the floor.” snarked the other speaker.

“You are an idiot.”

“You're both idiots. Shut the creature up and let me work.”

Arthur growled softly, edging forward and hoping for a glimpse of what lay ahead.

A new sound shot a spear of ice right through him. The pained groan carried the strange distortion that Lewis’s voice had gained since the night his life had ended here.

The snarl ripped out of his throat before he was even aware of making a sound and he sprang forward. The ground dropped abruptly away beneath his feet, but all he could see was Lewis beneath him, lying spread-eagled on a flat slab of stone, sickly orange magic weaving a cage around him. A man stood above him, Lewis’s anchor clenched in his fist, held over a tiny brazier that burned with that same malignant radiance.

His wings snapped open, caught air, and drove him like a bullet toward the man holding Lewis’s literal heart in his hand. A wild, shrieking cry of rage tore out of his chest and four sets of claws arrowed down on the target of his fury.

“What the fuck, man?”

He heard the cry, but it was meaningless. Red rage and the sight of the golden locket, its color dimmed by the sickly orange, was all that filled his vision. He hit the man with a solid whump, feet first, growling ferally as he crouched over the now prone figure. His blunted claws still left lines of red on the man’s hand as he snatched Lewis’s anchor away. He cradled it close to his chest and leaned down to snarl in the terrified face of the man under his feet, wings mantled over them. A faint gold light underscored the wanna-be necromancer’s pale, sweating features, picking out the horror in his bloodshot eyes. “Don’t take what isn’t yours,” he snarled, low and menacing.

A thin, terrified whine was all that escaped the man’s slack lips.

Vivi’s wild attack yodel finally got through the rage and Arthur lifted his head. “Don’t move if you know what’s good for you,” he snarled down at his hapless prisoner, before turning his attention to the rest of the cave.

One of the other men, the one with a bandaged hand, was already face down next to the furry lump that was a hog-tied Mystery. Vivi was whaling on the third, who was trying to defend himself with a short knife and a hardcover book. Scrapes on one thigh and a tear in her skirt indicated how she’d got down the steep sloping drop-off.

Even as Arthur watched, she knocked the knife away with her bat and kicked her opponent in the balls with far more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary. He went down with an agonized scream. Wincing in instinctive sympathy, Arthur abandoned the gibbering necromancer. Lewis was still pinned to the stone by the orange light emanating from the brazier. His first instinct was to knock it over, but something told him that wouldn’t help.

Instead, he gingerly picked the whole thing up and headed for where he heard the splashing of water. Water dripping down from stalactites had formed a pool, and he chucked the brazier into the water. Hissing, it threw up a cloud of steam and the orange bonds holding Lewis vanished like the remnants of a bad dream.

Vivi was across the floor in a heartbeat, flinging herself on Lewis in a hug. He sat up, closed his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. “Vivi—”

Glancing over to make sure their opponents were staying where they had been put, Arthur hurried over to them. Scratching the back of his neck with one hand, he offered Lewis his anchor back. “You need to stop losing this.”

“R-right,” Lewis’s laugh was a little watery and he was clinging to Vivi like he would never let go.

Without looking up, Vivi caught the wrist of Arthur’s extended hand and dragged him down into the embrace. Lewis freed one arm from her and wrapped it around Arthur’s waist with desperate strength.

Sighing with relief, Arthur closed his wings around the two of them.

A whimper from Mystery broke the moment and Vivi huffed a tearful laugh. “Suppose I should go untie him.”

Arthur reluctantly let her go, but Lewis held onto one of her elbows and followed her over to the prone kitsune. She knelt beside Mystery and began picking at the knotted ropes around his legs. Mystery stirred and flopped his heavy head in her lap while she did.

“Phew, your breath reeks,” she chided.

“Ish no’ my fault.” Mystery roused enough to say. He hiccuped mournfully. “Thish time.”

Lewis groaned. “Don’t start this again.”

“Start what?”

“They clocked him a good one when they grabbed us, but to  keep him from using his magic, they started pouring booze down his throat.” Lewis pointed at the unconscious one with the bandaged hand. “He knew the story that being drunk screws with a kitsune’s magic. Unfortunately, Mystery gets very maudlin when he’s not sober.”

“I shcrewed up and tried t’ kill Arthur,” Mystery pronounced woefully. “Nobody’ll trusht me anymore.”

“Shh,” Vivi said. “You stopped attacking Arthur, remember?”

“But I shtill didn’ believe in him.”

Arthur snorted. “Join the club. I didn’t always believe in me either.”

Vivi huffed, but finished untying Mystery. “Enough recriminations over the past. We made it through, all of us. Mystery, small form, please. I am not dragging twenty feet of drunk fox out of here.”

While Mystery tried to untangle himself enough to stand up, Arthur cocked a thumb at the erstwhile necromancer and his assistants. “What do we do with these yahoos?”

Mystery looked up, a little cross-eyed. “I could alwaysh eat them.”

"We'll save that as a secondary option," Vivi's tone was grim. She stood up and dusted off her torn skirt. Picking up the book from where it had fallen, she marched over to the leader of the group. He had gotten to his knees and she expertly brought to heavy tome up under his chin. His teeth clicked together from the force she put behind it. She bent slightly to meet his eyes. "You made a very large mistake in trying to take one of my boys. I don't suffer interlopers in my territory very nicely. I advise you to move along, and if you know what's good for you, leave Texas entirely.

"You see," she grinned a little too broadly. "We know you and your magic now... and if you try it again, we'll know. And we'll come looking."

His frightened eyes skittered over Lewis, Arthur and Mystery, and Arthur could almost see the calculations going on in his head. A ghost, a kitsune and a demon... that she called hers.

"W-what are you? A—"

Her smile was sharp enough to draw blood. "Oh, I assure you, whatever you're thinking—" she leaned close and dropped her voice to a whisper. "I'm much worse."

She lowered the book. "Now run along, little spellcaster, and think about what you've done..."

Gulping harshly, he scrambled to his feet, roused his moaning companion and between them hefted the unconscious one. They headed for a different tunnel than the one they had come through and vanished into the darkness.

Lewis waited until they could no longer hear them before laughing. "Vi—!"

She grinned at him. "What? I think I put a good fright in them. Plus I've got their spellbook." She sauntered over and threw an arm around his waist and the other around Arthur's. "I didn't really lie. I don't like wannabe necromancers messing around here. And if he messes with my boyfriends or doggo again, I will be his worst nightmare."

A/N: I waffled so long on posting this. Drunk, maudlin Mystery is all @phantoms-lair‘s fault. The reason the spell for controlling Lewis entirely wasn’t working? They used blood scraped off the wrong stalagmite.