#hopefully by then ill have cocktailed finished

[thekinkyleopard]

Snzfire of Hostility

Part 2 of a Non-Canon AlxKoxNai Fic Series

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Snz Fet, Bullying, Sexual Harassment, Smut, Sneaky Public oral, coercion

Description: Draeko is the fresh meat at College, new in town, and at first the jocks Alistar and Kanai, don’t find much interest in him. Until they find out he’s rather a little factory of entertainment and fetish gold. What will become of them all?

Author’s Notes: EEEEE I am like living for this series rn I have so many ideasss!!! Please enjoy this next steamy chapter as Al ups the Ante >:) art, Drae and Kanai all by @aller-geez !

Draeko was less than enthused to walk into Culinary class after having had creative writing prior. It seemed everything was more or less normal. Al hadn’t been there for last period and Kanai was never usually a problem by himself. Yet, he worried. Worried he would have to sit with that strange emotionless man and work together on their meal for the day in awkward silence. It was his second week in, and now classes were starting to feel more like work and less like cocktail hour.

The pastel colored male walked carefully into culinary and much to his dismay, both the Navy haired man and red head sat at the table. He sighed. Walked forward, avoiding eye contact with either, he sat in the seat to the right of Kanai furthest from Al. He did notice, however, that their other partner, Sloan, was missing. She must be out sick, Draeko assumed. This wasn’t good news, she was usually his go to when it came to avoiding conversation with the two intimidating men. Today, was incredibly different without her. What was he to do now that he couldn’t use her as a crutch?

“Now class today we are going to cook Lemongrass Chicken…learning how to use herbs and spices to our advantages we will….” As she droned on, the red head slowly creeped over, leaning enough over Kanai to see the pastel colored pup.

“Hey…pst…kid…” he cupped his hand around his mouth to hopefully draw out a louder sound than he was really making.

“What?” The younger tried to avoid eye contact still, not really wanting to get too involved with whatever shenanigans the other had in store.

“Good to see you…how you feelin’?” Waggling his eyebrows with a cheeky aura radiating off his person. Drae sat back and rolled his eyes now, blatantly ignoring the red head to avoid talking about the incident. Alistar hadn’t stopped thinking about it, and he was going to find some way to get the sensation to come back. Infact he had been mulling over ideas the other day with Kanai. Ever since that class, the demon was more than obsessed with the little freshman. He wouldn’t need them on this day though. As their instructor went on to first show them how their meal would be made, the fresh scent of cooking lemongrass was already starting to tickle and prick at Draeko’s sensitive nostrils. But he held strong. Tweaking his nose side to side to fight off the insistent urge.

“Now remember, you need to make sure your chicken is thoroughly cooked, or else risk giving someone illness, do we think we can handle it?” She asked as she finished up the meal, plated it and cut open the main dish to show off her perfectly cooked chicken. “Alright everyone get to it!” Draeko flung himself from the table to get away from the two demons, not that he really ever had an issue with the more navy themed one. He tended to mind himself when the red head wasn’t around, but he egged him on and aided regardless. The two were in cahoots and that meant Drae trusted neither of them. As he was gathering the ingredients and everyone was bustling about, the professor deeply invested in her computer screen, Al pressed up against the other’s back.

“Think you can handle it?” He repeated the professor’s words, purring into the mutt’s ear, causing the younger to tremble beneath him.

“E-excuse me?” Draeko turned his head to the side, his eyes trying to find him in his peripherals at the very least, face dusted in light pink, was he flirting with him?

“Cutting up the chicken and stuff do you think you can handle it? Me and Kanai just sort of burn things so like…if you could do the most of it….?” Suddenly he asked very nonchalantly, almost like there hadn’t been a seductive purr at the edge of his tone.

“Why bother taking the class if you’re not gonna learn the skill…?” Drae rolled his eyes trying to focus away from how close the man was standing up against him.

“Easy A? Gets elective credits out the way? Many reasons kiddo, but get to cookin’,” he slapped the smaller across his ass and Draeko’s cheeks burned bright red. He looked around to see had anyone noticed the assault but they hadn’t and he almost felt upset over it. It was weird, the more he acted like he didn’t like it, the more his brain started to rewire itself, like he couldn’t deny himself how hot the two men were.

Kanai at the other end of their kitchen was doing his best to chop and mince the garlic but found himself snipping the tip of his index, not enough to gush blood everyone but enough for the man to furrow his brows and let go of the knife. “Alistar, I can’t seem to get the right grip I have now cut myself several times, is there no other way to do this effectively and efficiently?” Looking over at his two partners now. Al backed up off the mutt and came by to look at his friend’s hand.

“Tch tch….see what I mean pup? We’re practically useless over here,” he clicked his tongue in disapproval at his friend’s wounds, looking over at the mutt raising Kanai’s hand up in the air to draw attention to the incident.

“Ok but can you at least cut the lemongrass yourselves? I can’t stand the smell of it,” he sighed, rolling his eyes and taking over the spot to which Kanai had just been cutting garlic, not before rinsing his knife off though.

“Oh? You can’t stand the smell of it?” Alistar’s brow raised curiously as he looked over at the serving of ingredient that was on the counter awaiting its time.

“Yeah, I don’t and there’s so much around…” the sizzle of several other pans started to make Draeko nervous. It was different when it was across the room and just one pan going but now it’s at least three and they hadn’t even started theirs yet. He could feel it sliding down his sinuses and grasping him by the throat, he set the knife down and brought his hands swiftly upward in an attempt to stifle it “H-hnn…GXNT!” Draeko’s body shook and lurched forward as he tried his best to conceal himself. It was of no use. Alistar leaned up against the counter, elbow propped and his chin on top of a closed fist.

“Marvelous, see Kanai? When you ask, thou shall receive…I’m tellin’ you I’m grandpa’s favorite….” Kanai rolled his eyes at the comment but watched none the less, still tapping at his nicked finger. Draeko’s legs shook and his lips quivered while he tried his best to fight the sensations building inside of his nostrils.

“Please….” He pleaded with himself more than anyone else. Why? Why can’t he just keep it down?? The lemongrass filling the air around the entire classroom was making the mutt sweat, trying to focus on chopping the garlic, then the chicken but with everyone already at the point of sizzling their pans, the younger couldn’t hold out any longer.

“Here it comes,” Alistar nudged and elbowed his best friend as they both stared down the other who set down the knife once again to try and catch himself before he could contaminate the food.

“K’GNSH’iiew!!” Into the palms of his hands now, his brows furrowed and his nose crinkled. “H’iish’ue!!” He backed up but only found himself bumping straight into Alistar’s chest. “I- need-…h’H…” cut off by a sharp gasp that caught in his throat.

“Help? A hand?” The demon guessing as he snickered and placed his hand under the younger’s nose and wiped it clean for him. Rubbing off the ick and wet onto his crusty black patched up jeans.

“tch’ISSH!!” The small kitten sneeze escaped him as he was trying to find his way FROM the red head, and to ground himself against the counter again. However, Al took hold of the small hybrid’s hip and gripped it, grinding his hard length into the other so he can feel as he sneezed against his large body.

“God you have no idea what that does to me…” He growled, his voice excited like a rock n roll artist announcing his entrance to the city, but it was only the group of them that could hear it. He took a deep inhale of the other’s messy different colored hair. It was sweet, but that was behind the larger scent of citrus in the air. Draeko bit his lower lip, his watering eyes scanned the room around him and as he realized not a single soul was there to pay attention, all fixated on their own tasks, he almost felt excited. Were they aware of this too? No one was watching them?

“Stop…we’re gonna get in trouble…” he whimpered trying to shuffle innocently away but Al kept him tight in his grasp. Draeko’s nose tweaked and twitched, reaching up as he tried to scratch it by rubbing it in circles in loud clicks.

“Doubtful, Miss H is too busy sexting her foreign online boyfriend and the rest of the class is trying not to burn their chicken….as far as we are concerned, no one gives a shit, but what would be great….is if you could make yourself useful under the counter….” Pointing downward. It’s true, if he did go below the counter, no one would spot him but in what world does the red head think he was that easy???

“Hey! Asshole! What makes you….” He started but was swiftly cut off by the other’s quick index placed at his lips.

“You may put on a real brave face here kiddo but,” reaching around he gripped the front of Drae’s pants, the crotch specifically feeling in his grip the young hybrid was indeed throbbing.

“Okay…fine…you caught me! Doesn’t mean I’ll just do as you say!” He grumbled with embarrassment, face fully flushed as he realized the compromising situation he was being put into was leaving him with not many choices.

“Won’t it though? Not even for Kanai?” The Navy haired man blinked looking almost lost between them all.

“Are we not cooking the meal, Donnie?” Asking curiously, seeing as that was the only real task that was asked of him in the last hour, from what he could recall. He was a tad bit concerned how they got here so fast but stepped closer nonetheless when he was beckoned by Al’s index.

“No, Nai, we will, we’re just going to get a helping hand as well,” Alistar shoved the mutt to his knees hiding him under the counter top, as he stepped closer to reach the station in order to finish the preparation. Regardless of what was expected, the shorter of the three still found himself rubbing and twitching his nose in irritated circles. “Stand closer,” he grabbed Kanai by the collar of his shirt and swiftly pulled him in.

At first and second glance, it looks like Alistar is cooking and prepping while the other of the visible two, is watching carefully. “Get to it,” the red head commanded, and though he had plenty of room to say no, and felt comfortable enough to do so…the excitement that built within Drae’s core seemed to sing louder than his pride. Slowly he unbuckled and unzipped both the men in front and beside him, careful to not make too many unnecessary noises that may seen out of the ordinary. Though, unlikely they’d be heard with a class full of chatting students and sizzling cookware.

The red head paid no mind and slapped in the chicken, along with the mass amounts of lemon grass he chopped. “That may be too much Donnie,” Nai tried to engage forgetting that regardless, the idea was not to actually care about today’s meal, but today’s opportunity.

“Shhhh I know what I’m doing,” he turned up the heat and suddenly as the lemongrass began to sizzle in the oil of the heating pan, the aroma poisoned the air, and Drae from below, already struggling to pull the men out of their pants, felt the painful and prickling sensations of doom coming back to haunt him.

“B-ut…I-…” Draeko managed to pull the red head from the confines of his boxer briefs and stared his length down before his eyes slowly began to struggle and even cross. They squinted and pinched, a small line of tears, dripped down his cheek and he knew, it was a complete waste of his energy to fight it. “iit’shHIEW! hdt’ishhhh!! TCH’iSh!” He soiled Alistar’s length that twitched with excitement, only making the older student groan and involuntarily push his hips forward.

“Fuck that is awesome….” He looked over at Kanai who, in turn looks rather bored, yet to see the appeal while Drae struggled below them. “You’ll see…” he snickered continuing to try and remain focus on not burning the food.

Draeko nervously was able to have both lengths released and waiting on him, he snuffled and pushed the back of his hand against his nose to sniffle down whatever ick build up he had from his consistently allergic face. He looked over and gripped the Navy haired man’s length in his palm, nervously looking up with glossy eyes, Kanai looked back. His heterochromiatic gaze lidding as there was contact made with his slowly lengthening cock. Not nearly as ready to go as Al was, and Drae takes a moment to drag the flattened end of his tongue under the other’s shaft. Stopping at the tip of his head to suck gingerly, and tease the tall, stoic one. This seemed to bring the man to life as well as his length before he swallowed it fully and allowed it to hit the back of his throat. Al looked down to see the display and smirked reaching to grab Draeko’s free hand and bring it up to his cock.

“Don’t forget about me over here,” he grumbled playfully as he tried to keep his voice low. The sound of loud sizzling knocked him back to reality before long and he went back to pushing and flipping the meat around carefully. The mutt gripped Al’s cock in his palm slowly stroking with purpose and his mouth worked to fluff the other’s slowly growing length as well.

“Shit….” Kanai groaned gripping tightly to the counter as he fought between wanting to watch the small hybrid give him brain, and also follow along watching to make sure Alistar didn’t fail them. Drae’s eyes slid to a close while his tongue and mouth continued to swallow and devour, he was just starting to get himself together when the redhead turned up the heat and poured a shot of wine into the pan. Flames roared upward as he torched the lemongrass to squeeze every last tormenting cell out of its aroma. “D-Donnie…the recipe doesn’t call for w-wine….” Trying to guide his best friend back to the basics, who simply laughed with his own hooded gaze.

“Don’t question me just wait and see…” and it didn’t take long, the burning scent of lemongrass wafted even stronger in the air with it having been freshly scorched under the wine flambé. Draeko’s nostrils twitched, his eyelids fought, open and closed, open and closed….his throat tightened up around Kanai who’s nails dug into the wooden counter and nearly split a huge chunk completely off the surface entirely but managed to stop at cracking it.

“Shit….” He hissed between gritting teeth and a clenched jaw. Drae, trying to keep himself from exploding all over the demon’s length, finding himself unable to do so when it finally struck him, his throat closing up and he immediately pulled back on it.

“hih’iiiSSHHHuu! hhh’ISCHih! ” He sprayed across Kanai’s dick the man grunting and looking over at his red headed counter part.

“You’re right….does feel great…” he looked back down and could see the mutt’s brightly blushing and flushed face, embarrassed, as he tried to fix up and wipe off his face.

“Stop that,” Alistar started swatting at Draeko’s hands. “I wanna see you get messy….i want your own liquids dripping down your face while you please us…” he had leaned down at an angle to whisper seductively at Drae who blinked slowly, trying to capture every syllable before he…

“hh'IETSH’UE!” Another one, his eyes reddened and leaking, same as his poor nose, the irritation of rubbing at him had almost made it feel raw. Alistar reached down, took a fistful of Draeko’s hair and dragged his mouth over to his cock and shoved his way down the mutt’s throat, slowly fucking his face hole while he remained pushing the chicken about, it was starting to look a little….done. Yet Al couldn’t stop here.

“Don’t stop…” he growled , his hips snapping with every hard swallow. Draeko’s fist twisted Kanai’s length, pumping at the same rhythm he was sucking on the red head. His eyes leaked, his nose and the sides of his mouth also dripped while he kept himself stuffed full. A soft snuffle heard every 3rd suck as he was not a fan of how his snot kept threatening to leak down his lips. “I’m close….” Alistar grunted through, turning off the heat he gripped the counter in both his hands and like a wild animal began to face fuck the absolute dog shit out of Draeko’s mouth, causing a uncontrollable mass of drool to start leaking from the corners of his lips. “Here it comes…..” he warned before blowing his load completely down Draeko’s tight throat. At this moment, the mutt wasn’t ceasing his motions upon Kanai’s length, still pumping and squeezing the tip to encourage the taller to follow behind but he just couldn’t quite get there yet.

Alistar’s nails dug into the counter as his orgasm rocked through him and his vision turned to stars, rolling into the back of his skull as he jerked himself forward in repetition. Drae gagged, and choked trying to keep the mess to a minimum as the seed slid down his throat, lifting himself off he quickly turned his advances to Kanai, his mouth switching cocks like it was suddenly his day job.

The wet warmth surrounding Kanai was just what he needed to silently reach over and clench Alistar’s shoulder, the red head sucking air between his teeth in pain. “F……uck….” Red eyes wide as he tried to keep his volume to a minimum while his best friend practically clawed him. The navy haired male didn’t care, his eyes rolled back and he rocked as his length spilled down the mutt’s throat, who expertly swallowed each load without a fight to put up. Once he was satisfied with his clean up, Drae quickly collapsed rubbing at his nose, bringing the back of his shirt across his incredibly wet face.

“Nah nah don’t do that yet….” Alistar stopped him by gripping the shirt and keeping it from reaching his face.

“Wh-…” Drae looked up at the man almost flabbergasted by the request. What did he mean he couldn’t clean himself up?

“Let me take a picture first you look fucking crazy,” Grinning with a side smirk plastered across his smug face, the hybrid rolled his eyes, stuck out his tongue and folded his arms across his chest.

“No! You can’t….” Looking up and away from Al’s gaze to emphasize he wasn’t going to crack.

“Want me to announce to everyone you sucked our cocks in class instead? Hm?” Draeko’s eyes widened and blushed, looking away he shook his head slowly and then back up at the red headed demon. This was humiliating. He couldn’t believe he allowed himself to be seduced by these two….CLOWNS. They don’t even respect him!

Yet as Alistar snapped his photos, and the class started to question what was taking them so long, Kanai had managed to zip himself up and scramble the food from the pan….looking less than perfect. Bringing the plates to the table, everyone’s eyes were more or less on their meals or on Kanai. No one noticed when Draeko managed to pop up, wiping his face and rushing to grab a few paper towels. He crinkled them, wet them with warm water and placed it on his aching bridge. The scent still lingered in the air but at least with the towels on his face, it soothed his poor aching sinuses. “Good work, pup,” he smirked watching the poor mutt do his best to soothe his reddened and swollen face.

Ruffling the other’s messy duo-colored hair before he sauntered off confidently as if he didn’t just face fuck the life out of him. Draeko stood there in the kitchenette as everyone talked amongst themselves and ate their food. He looked up, pinching the bridge of his nose and toward the ceiling light of the classroom ceiling. What the fuck was he doing? He came to college to change his life and he’s back to his whore behavior, seriously? Sucking the dicks of the two dudes that have been the most disrespectful to him since he started coming here? There has to be a word for this. This takes the cake. He was never going to change. He couldn’t handle a life without chaos.

He sniffled loudly, and used the now cooling rag to wipe and clear his nose before tossing it away in the trash, wiping his nose dry with the back of his shirt. It wasn’t an entirely good look but the kid was exhausted, disappointed in himself, still incredibly attracted to the two obnoxious jocks, and again, disappointed in himself. He slowly dragged his feet to the table, sitting down to see chunks of burnt chicken on his plate with a side of half crunchy rice. “What….the fuck is this?” He asked with a squeamish look across his face.

“Lemongrass chicken,” Al replied with a monotoned voice, mid chew as he and Kanai both seemed relatively unphased, whilst crunching their over/under done entrees.

“This is burnt….and the rice isn’t….done?” Drae had picked up a fork to push around the food looking between it and his classmates. They both stayed silent. “Guys! I thought you said you had this???” He suddenly furrowed at them, his voice exasperated when Kanai finally turned to look at him.

“It seems that yes, Alistar did not cook the meal to complete perfection, however, sustenance is still sustenance, I see this as an edible B+ at the least,” shrugging his shoulders, Al pointing his fork in the other’s direction and nodded in agreement.

“That part,” shoveling another fork full of garbage into his mouth. Draeko shook his head back and forth and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re gonna be the reason I fail a damn elective class aren’t you?” Sighing deeply with irritation, sliding back into his chair.

“Me? I recall choices being made on your end, all I did was urge the desire,” licking his teeth as his gaze finally shot up to take a good look at the mutt in his own stubborn orbs.

As they glared daggers at one another the instructor wound up coming around to check on everyone, coming to a screeching halt at their table. “Oh my, I’d really suggest you three go home tonight, together and practice this recipe….this looks….terrible,” she clicked her tongue in disappointment.

“Hey, to each their own teach! I’d say it’s exactly how I like it,” Alistar chuckled flashing her a charming side smile that didn’t seem to sway her opinion any.

“I’m….sure….PRACTICE! I want to see a video next week of you three redoing this meal,” Draeko sighed slumping and sliding further into his chair as he knew this would mean only one terrible thing. He would have to be exposed to that damn herb near those damn hooligans again and that’s honestly going to be the death of him.

“Ma’am I can do it, it would have been fine, I just had an allergic reaction from all the pans going at once….so I had Al take charge but do I really have to redo it?” Looking up at her sheepishly with an unconvincing half smile, she looked at him, a flat expression written across her face before she responded.

“That’s not an excuse, yes you really have to redo it,” rolling her eyes at the pathetic attempt Drae had even made to get out of it.

“Fuck dude….” He groaned slamming his forehead straight onto the table with an expressive thud. Alistar snickered, leaning over to wrap his arms around the sulking mutt.

“Guess we’ll see you tonight huh? Our place?” More than prepared for all the ways he was going to make this video his own special home movie. He’d do the homework part too sure, sure.

“I’m not coming,” Draeko narrowed his eyes before rolling them in the opposite direction. Alistar only inched closer.

“You’ll fail the assignment,” reminding the other of the importance to pass each meal as if their entire grades depended on it.

“I don’t care,” shrugging his shoulders. Was he bluffing? Entirely, but he wasn’t positive that the demon could figure that out if he sounded confident enough.

“You sure about that?” Raising a thin red brow. He didn’t believe him. Even for a second.

“Positive,” Huffing out his nostrils now to indicate he wasn’t going to teeter or sway, there would be no meet up. He wasn’t to be left alone with those two heathens or so help him he go back to his old ways.

“See you at 9pm tonight then,” Alistar chuckled confidently, backing off the mutt before grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. Kanai doing the same as they anticipated the end of class.

“…..” the bell rung and Draeko could feel himself practically jump out of his seat. Would he go? He knew what would happen if he was left alone with those two, without a bunch of students around to witness. Put him in a room with those two assholes and he’s gonna make it stank. He shook his head. “Why am I like this?” the logical side of his brain finally kicking in as he unclogged himself of the “what ifs”. Clutching his backpack to his person tightly, he considered what he was to do for the rest of the day, but what was he to choose?

To be Continued…

Author’s Notes: Little intense I know I know but like 🤤 I love public stuff~ little bit shorter than the last one? I think? Idk anyway I have some good ideas for the next few chapters~ I love Al bullying Drae into doing nasty shit 🥰😍 and Kanai just going along for the ride cause why not 😍 ugh using Draeko like a snzy fuck Toy. So hot. 🥵

[voodoochili]

My 75 Favorite Albums of 2020

Every year produces excellent music and 2020 was no exception. The exceptional thing about this year, though, is the loss of livelihood so many musicians suffered as a result of the pandemic. To better celebrate all I’ve listened to and loved this year, I’ve expanded my albums list from 50 to 75 albums and included a highlight track from each in the Spotify playlist below. If you like what you hear, why not throw the artist a few dollars on Bandcamp?

Check the Spotify playlist HERE.

Without further ado, my favorite albums of 2020. Happy New Year, and happy listening!

10. Playboi Carti - Whole Lotta Red: Carti’s long-awaited opus has only been out for a week, which is probably not a long enough time to give an album as sprawling and surprising as this one a full critical evaluation. But I do know when I’m hearing something that’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard: this album rearranges hip-hop at the molecular level. 

Whole Lotta Red is overstuffed with invention, the glitchy, expansive production giving Carti ample opportunity to glom onto the contours of the beat and experiment with his voice. That voice is the album’s main attraction: it squeaks, it squeals, it roars, it spits, it shudders, and organizes itself into irresistibly ignorant mantras (my current favorite is “Lamborghini parked outside, it’s purple like lean”). 

Across its 24 tracks (which feels like too many, sure, but only the 5-minute long Kid Cudi-infected droner “Metamorphosis” overstays its welcome), Carti plays with listener expectations, annihilating rap songwriting conventions (why do you need verse-chorus structure if every line is a hook) as he defiantly proclaims his desire to be unlike anybody else. Though it bears some resemblance in sound and subject matter to Future’s Monster (and much of the production owes a debt to the work of Lil Uzi Vert’s favored Working Of Dying collective), Whole Lotta Red firmly establishes Carti as a totemic figure connecting mainstream and underground sounds.

9. BbyMutha - Muthaland: BbyMutha is a natural born spitter, armed with a drawly stutter-stepping flow that routinely annihilates unconventional instrumentals. She glows with supreme confidence and comfort in her own skin, especially when she’s dripping with disdain with those who’d dare refuse her the respect she deserves. A 25-track opus that earns every minute of its runtime, Muthaland is an engrossing immersion into Mutha’s world, balancing a fascination with the occult (“Sorry I don’t fuck with n****s who don’t fuck with Satan”) with grounding interjections from close friends and her four children. Boasting rockstar fantasies like “Heavy Metal,” bad girl anthems like “Nice Guy,” and dancefloor-ready jams like “Cocaine Catwalk,” Muthaland is a tour-de-force by one of rap’s singular voices, and if she’s really finished with music as she’s claimed (rappers never really retire, but Mutha has indicated she wants to focus full time on her Apothecary), the game will greatly miss her incisive punchlines and crudely empowering perspective.

8. Westerman - Your Hero Is Not Dead: In 2020, Mid-’80s sophistipop grew into one of my favorite comfort foods. Westerman’s Your Hero Is Not Dead struck me directly in the sophistipop sweet spot, evoking the attention-to-detail and synth-heavy craftsmanship of that era and pairing it with harmonic complexity and a piercing emotionalism that recalls his idol Neil Young. On songs like “Blue Comanche” and “The Line,” Westerman constructs tales as twisty as his melodies, economically exploring how people relate to each other at the beginning and end of romantic relationships. Westerman complements his tasteful palette of synth sounds with intricate and lyrical guitar playing, most notably on the sighing, gorgeous instrumental “Float Over,” which softly segues into the title track to end the album on a gently-rising high note.

7. WizKid - Made In Lagos: The focal point of the sub-Saharan Afrobeats renaissance, Lagos is having one of the most exciting musical moments of any city since Kingston in the early ‘70s. WizKid is one of the scene’s biggest stars, with an ability to combine the sonic tapestry of his hometown with Caribbean-influenced beats and vocal styles. Made In Lagos is a masterwork of sound design, bringing creamy bass, chicken-scratch speckles of guitar, tasteful interjections of saxophone and brass, and an intoxicating mix of acoustic and electronic percussion, all offered in service to an immaculate vibe that matches the album cover’s shiny, monochromatic color scheme. Made with lockdown in mind, the album eschews uptempo dancefloor workouts in favor of stress-relief and romance. WizKid plays the perfect host, tamping down his melodic flights of fancy and embracing a song-serving smoothness. He’s a warm and inviting presence throughout, laying out the red carpet for a cross-continental cast of collaborators like H.E.R., Skepta, Burna Boy, and Damian Marley. The result is a truly global pop masterpiece, capable of brightening even the dourest day of a miserable year.

6. Ka - Descendants of Cain: Firefighter by day and rapper/producer by night, Ka is a master of allusion. He organizes his thoughts into themed collections of metaphor, illustrating the bleak realities of street life with gnomic symbolism. On Descendants Of Cain, Ka’s strongest work to date, the enigmatic rapper expresses himself through a litany of biblical references, drawing parallels between ancient parables (he goes far deeper than the Cain/’caine double entendre that rappers have been using for decades) and the stark code of morality with which he lives his life. The 48-year-old hermit produced the project himself, creating an immersive sonic realm, crafting expansive, noir-ish backing tracks populated by late-night saxophones, sparkling pianos, and the occasional shot of sweeping strings. Once again, Ka’s music comes almost entirely without drums (certainly without “beats” in the traditional hip-hop sense–every once in a while, he adds an open hi-hat or a subdued shaker), the artist preferring to let his music swirl around his half-whispered words of wisdom. The album ends on a tearful, sentimental note with “I Love (Mimi, Moms, Kev),” in which the artist ditches the biblical lyrical conceit and expresses his love for his wife, his mom, and his best friend atop light percussion and a warm soul sample.

5. SAULT - Untitled (Rise): Rise is the second part of a diptych that SAULT recorded in response to the movement that exploded in the wake of George Floyd’s death. Black Is, the first part, is a great album (you’ll find it in the lower reaches of my 2020 list), but the mysterious UK collective fulfilled their immense potential with Rise, a propulsive, powerful, and danceable album that doubles as a thought-provoking examination of the nature of freedom and liberation. The album tackles weighty topics–police violence, fake-woke “allies,” protest, cultural appropriation–but handles them with an inspiring effervescence and a propulsion meant to usher right-thinking people into the streets. The music itself is an intoxicating marvel, combining elements from every trendy musical movement from the early ‘80s (post-disco, post-punk, house, hip-hop, whatever the hell ESG was) into a percussive and surprisingly cohesive cocktail. The album immediately makes its greatness known with its first four songs, one of the strongest opening runs of any album in recent memory: the swaggering, funky, keep-your-head-up anthem “Strong,” which features a drum solo from SAULT architect Inflo, the soaring, club-ready vamp “Fearless,” concept-establishing, string-heavy interlude “Rise,” and especially “I Just Want to Dance,” the best song ESG never wrote. 

4. Fiona Apple - Fetch The Bolt Cutters: Fetch The Bolt Cutters arrived with the kind of universal acclaim that can make some people suspicious. The Pitchfork review got a lot of attention, not just for its perfect score but for its bold statement that “no music has ever sounded quite like it.” 

That statement might’ve been slightly hyperbolic. Fetch The Bolt Cutters has the kind of propulsive left-hand piano figures, chest-thumping percussion, and impassioned vocal performances that we haven’t heard since...the last Fiona Apple album. But the album deserves its experimental reputation. These songs mess around with song structure and melody in ways that resemble avant-garde singers like Meredith Monk, use overlapping vocals that occasionally evoke the works of post-modern composers like Luciano Berio, and echoing modernist composers like Edgard Varese in the way she wrings pathos out of rhythmic elements.

Though Fetch might be a slight step down from The Idler Wheel, it’s an invigorating listen, packed with the soul-baring confessionals that only Fiona is capable of executing. Combining literary wordplay with plainspoken directness, Fiona forces the listener to confront her trauma and contemplate her diagnoses of patriarchal ills. The songs are uniformly excellent–especially opener “I Want You To Love Me,” the most “traditional” song on the record, and “Shameika,” a burrowing childhood rumination with a happy ending–but Fetch The Bolt Cutters stands out to me as a collection of amazing moments: when the jig-like “For Her” fades into an unforgettably painful cadence (“Good mornin’, good mornin’/You raped me in the same bed your daughter was born in”), Fiona’s ground-shaking vocal intensity at the end of “Newspaper,” her dogs howling over the outro of “Fetch The Bolt Cutters,” the winking repetition of the title phrase on “Ladies.” Her albums display more than enough ambition to forgive the long gestation periods, but hopefully we won’t have to wait another 8 years for Fiona to bare her soul once again.

3. Drakeo The Ruler - Thank You For Using GTL: Embroiled in a Kafkaesque legal saga that shines a light on the worst aspects of our horrendous justice system, Drakeo The Ruler spent more than three years wrongly incarcerated for a crime he not only did not commit, but for which he was acquitted (for more info on Drakeo’s ordeal, read Jeff Weiss). He’s now mercifully a free man, mostly due to the work of his lawyer, but at least partially because of publicity generated by Thank You For Using GTL. Recorded over the phone from prison during the height of the pandemic, it’s a miracle that an album created under such sub-optimal conditions sounds as excellent as it does, but credit producer JoogSzn–who not only supplied the creeping, head-nodding backing tracks but recorded Drakeo’s phoned-in vocals–and engineer MixedByNavin for the project’s astonishing fidelity. Drakeo and Joog spent hours on the phone to record the album, in the process paying thousands of dollars to GTL, the predatory telecom company of choice for the L.A. corrections system, whose mechanical interjections serve as a constant reminder of the injustice that made the album necessary. Of course, a good story is a good story, but that alone doesn’t get an album on 2020’s most prestigious Best Albums list (mine). It’s a classic rap album, perhaps the best ever released by an incarcerated rapper, and a thumb directly in the nose of the D.A. and the LAPD. The album is a lyrical marvel, packed with winding wordplay and outlandish flexes, as Mr. Mosley takes aim at 6ix9ine, cackles at sorry-ass Instagram haters, and sneers at American-made cars (“To be honest, a Hellcat isn’t a foreign”). Each song has a carefully considered concept, the rapper’s punchlines building upon one another to make an airtight case for his status as L.A.’s top dog. He contrasts his own whip-crashing lifestyle with flashy wannabes on “GTA VI” and “Backflip or Sumn,” mourns a favorite department store on “RIP Barneys,” and proves he still doesn’t rap beef on “Maestro’s Tension.” The album’s masterstroke comes with “Fictional,” the final track, in which Drakeo exposes the prosecution’s use of his lyrics as evidence in criminal proceedings as the farce it is: “It might sound real, but it’s fictional/I love that my imagination gets to you.” Drakeo’s story was a rare bright spot in 2020, and a rare one with a happy ending. Just last week, the rapper released Because Y’All Asked, a studio-recorded version of Thank You For Using GTL, giving the album’s songs the clarity they deserve. But I think I’ll mostly return to the original, which will live on as an excellent album and a vital document of post-George Floyd America.

2. Pa Salieu - Send Them to Coventry: Hailing from the middle of nowhere–or, more accurately city in the English Midlands only known in the states for its middling Premier League team–Gambian-British artist Pa Salieu served up the most distinctive, visceral, and daring rap debut of the year. His style fuses elements of grime, drill, afro-trap, dancehall, and the darker edges of U.S. hip-hop into a percussive slurry, injected with the urgency of his struggle to survive. The magic of the album comes from the way Pa’s fluid flows interact with the shimmering and foreboding production (Felix Joseph and Aod lead the cast of the project’s sound architects), which is perfectly suited for cold city nights. He slips effortlessly into the pocket, toe-tagging the beats with a combination of aggression and trance-like meditation and uttering casually powerful pronouncements (“I'd make a killa riddim offa any riddim/The grind can never stop 'til I'm wrapped in linen”) that make you believe he’s Britain’s next great rapper. Pa keeps the vibe consistent throughout, but the moments that stand out are the moments when he locks into an unbreakable groove over no-frills production, like on singles “Block Boy,” “Betty,” and “B***K.” The artist’s wry sense of humor and brash confidence keeps the album from feeling bleak, but Send Them To Coventry wisely ends on “Energy,” a warm and bright ode to keeping your creative spark safe from the prying forces of fame and fortune.

1. Kassa Overall - I Think I’m Good: “I think I’m good”–a phrase that’s ran through my head throughout this shitstorm of a year. Sure, I postponed a wedding, cancelled trips, and saw my friends and family much less often than I would like, but I count myself among the lucky ones. Still breathing, still sane. Though it was recorded and released before the pandemic started, Kassa Overall’s I Think I’m Good became a lodestar of sorts for me. It’s a brilliantly introspective and deeply personal album about existing in enclosed spaces–whether a jail cell, an NYC subway car, or the inescapable prison of your own body.

Kassa Overall made his name as a jazz drummer, touring with icons like Geri Allen, but his solo music incorporates elements of hip-hop, classical, and trap to create a wholly original milieu. The album features contributions from over 30 accomplished voices, ranging from luminary Vijay Iyer, to Kassa’s saxophonist brother Carlos Overall, to virtuosic pianist Sullivan Fortner, to venerated activist Angela Davis. But all the disparate elements come together in service of Kassa’s deeply personal and engrossing vision.

Taking partial inspiration from Kassa’s struggle with manic depression, the music fluctuates between meditative calm and unbearable tension, mimicking the patter of an unquiet mind. Album opener “Visible Walls,” is a mesmerizing prayer for salvation soundtracked by fluttering harps, piercing woodwinds, and heartbeat percussion. “Find Me” buries a plea for help within a cacophony of sampled voices and rattling piano notes. Fortner’s piano guides us through the hauntingly devastating “Halfway House” and the Chopin-indebted “Darkness In Mind,” each highlighting a different stage of grief (despair and acceptance, respectively). The arc of I Think I’m Good concludes with the hopeful “Got Me A Plan” and “Was She Happy (For Geri Allen),” a Vijay Iyer-assisted tribute to his late friend and mentor. 

It’s ironic that an album that so deeply explores the feeling of isolation vibrates with such a collaborative spirit. I Think I’m Good feels like an answered prayer–a community coming together to check on a beloved friend who’s gone through a tough time: “You good, man?” “I think so.”

Here’s the rest of my list.

11. Yves Tumor - Heaven To A Tortured Mind 12. Shackleton & Waclaw Zimpel - Primal Forms 13. Bob Dylan - Rough & Rowdy Ways 14. Duval Timothy - Help 15. Lil Uzi Vert - Eternal Atake 16. Moodymann - Taken Away 17. Secret Drum Band - Chuva 18. J Hus - Big Conspiracy 19. Headie One & Fred Again - GANG 20. Tiwa Savage - Celia 21. Andras - Joyful 22. Bill Callahan - Gold Record 23. King Von - Welcome To O’Block 24. Flo Milli - Ho, Why Is You Here? 25. Chubby & The Gang - Speed Kills 26. Madeline Kenney - Sucker’s Lunch 27. Empty Country - Empty Country 28. Smino - She Already Decided 29. Destroyer - Have We Met 30. Yves Jarvis - Sundry Rock Song Stock 31. Ela Minus - Acts Of Rebellion 32. Creeper - Sex, Death & The Infinite Void 33. Alabaster DePlume - To Cy & Lee: Instrumentals, Vol. 1 34. Good Sad Happy Bad - Shades 35. The 1975 - Notes On a Conditional Form 36. Kate NV - Room For The Moon 37. $ilkmoney - Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85 38. Eddie Chacon - Pleasure, Joy and Happiness 39. Kenny Segal & Serengeti - Ajai 40. Bad Bunny - YHLQMDLG 41. Kahlil Blu - DOG 42. Califone - Echo Mine 43. Boldy James - The Price of Tea in China/Manger On McNichols/The Versace Tape 44. Bufiman - Albumsi 45. Moses Boyd - Dark Matter 46. Thanya Iyer - KIND 47. Jyoti - Mama You Can Bet! 48. Obongjayar - Which Way Is Forward? 49. Rio Da Yung OG - City On My Back 50. Young Jesus - Welcome To Conceptual Beach 51. Owen Pallett - Island 52. Oceanator - Things I Never Said 53. Shootergang Kony - Red Paint Reverend 54. Shabason, Krgovich & Harris - Philadelphia 55. Six Organs of Admittance - Companion Rises 56. Lido Pimienta - Miss Colombia 57. Kelly Lee Owens - Inner Song 58. Polo G - The GOAT 59. Actress - Karma & Desire 60. Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher 61. Porridge Radio - Every Bad 62. Yg Teck - Eyes Won’t Close 63. Mozzy - Beyond Bulletproof 64. Ratboys - Printer’s Devil 65. R.A.P. Ferreira - Purple Moonlight Pages 66. Ulver - Flowers of Evil 67. Rina Sawayama - SAWAYAMA 68. SAULT - Untitled (Black Is) 69. Ezra Feinberg - Recumbent Speech 70. Davido - A Better Time 71. Hailu Mergia - Yene Mircha 72. HAIM - Women In Music Pt. III 73. Half Waif - The Caretaker 74. Key Glock - Yellow Tape 75. KeiyAa - Forever Your Girl

[frostbitten-written]

"Indie Mangrove," he hummed, tasting each soft syllable on his tongue, feeling them spill easily from his lips. As sweet as her smile. "The pleasure is all mine."

And he meant it. He may not yet know her motivations for desiring to continue their conversation, but he did not sense any malice or ill will radiating from her petite being.

"Thank you," she repeated again quietly, "for the drink."

“Someone ordered me a drink earlier tonight,” she motioned to the bloke sitting a few seats away from them. “Not my type,” she whispered playfully before sipping the cocktail. The drink wasn’t too sweet or tart, and it was quite fragrant. “Honestly, I didn’t like how he was looking at me,” she mumbled to no one in particular.

The mumbled words did not go unheard. Loki swiftly moved to stand in between Indie and the aforementioned fool who made her feel uncomfortable. There was no reason for her to suffer discomfort when it could be solved with such little effort on his part. Muttered curses from the slimy git at his broad back proved him incredibly unpleasant and ill-suited for the beauty before him.

"You are most welcome. It's a simple gesture to hopefully make amends for my temporary bout of distraction."

Her boldness fought its way to the surface yet again when she playfully eyed him and reached for his drink instead. “And next time, I’ll have what you’re having, mister.” She winked before sipping his drink and sliding it back over to him. She always loved a nice glass of whiskey. It went down like fire but settled like honey.

Bold. Appreciation for the spark glinting in her eyes crinkled around his emerald counterpart. He hadn't expected the action from her and as she was not a threat, it excited him. Whether that sip of whiskey was a challenge or a threat, he is keen to find out. Long fingers curled around the glass and raised it in a silent toast before finishing the glass.

"Next time," he paused to drag his eyes down to her mouth and back again to her eyes, "we'll put that to the test." His finger traced the edge of his upper lip once the smudged glass met faded wood, concealing part of his smile. Never did he look away from her warm gaze.

“Now, enough about me, unless you have any questions then feel free to ask, but tell me about you?” She looked at him expectantly, a twinkle of curiosity in her eyes.

Before any response could be given, she launched into a series of questions, each more earnestly and distractedly given as the last. Her rambling was charming--hardly worth an apology. The ease she finds in speaking to him is as endearing as it is disarming.

His hand lifts from his face to smooth down his chest, straightening his impeccable tie unnecessarily. Propping an elbow up on the bar, he ticked off his answers to her rapid-fire inquiries. "I know how to dance, but I've found the pleasure in dancing is typically dependent on my partner and the location. I have an extensive personal library and have read almost the entirety of the royal library on Asgard. I would be interested in learning of what you write, and maybe reading a sample if you'll allow it. There is no need to slap yourself simply because you did not allow me to answer your questions; I will make myself heard one way or another," he winked. "It's lovely. You are hardly annoying, Indie."

This giggly, glowing mortal was so unlike the others he'd encountered in similar establishments. She stood out from the rest and he felt drawn to her. In a more appropriate setting for conversation, he could imagine himself listening to her rambling for hours. Instead he leaned closer to her until he could feel the heat radiating from her skin, judging her reaction like a predator to his tempting prey.

"Would you like another drink?" A dip of his chin pointed at her glass. "And I do want to know why you're here this evening. It is late and no one has come to rescue you from me. Typically people do not come to places such as these alone."

-Loki

(I am so giddy! I’m loving this!)

"I know how to dance, but I've found the pleasure in dancing is typically dependent on my partner and the location. I have an extensive personal library and have read almost the entirety of the royal library on Asgard. I would be interested in learning of what you write, and maybe reading a sample if you'll allow it. There is no need to slap yourself simply because you did not allow me to answer your questions; I will make myself heard one way or another," he winked. "It's lovely. You are hardly annoying, Indie."

She listened in wonderment as he spoke, sipping her drink occasionally. She liked his style and she was really starting to like him. “Oh, royal library…? Wow… I can imagine that must be extensive… That must have taken you forever to get through… Huh? Wait, you’ve read books from a royal library, yet you would voluntarily read my work?” She was in disbelief. That’s high praise in and of itself. She bit her lip and looked away; she could feel her cheeks light up like a furnace. He was perfect. How a man like him ended up in a place like this, she still couldn’t fathom! Better yet, how she managed to hold his attention, was beyond her!

"Would you like another drink?" A dip of his chin pointed at her glass. "And I do want to know why you're here this evening. It is late and no one has come to rescue you from me. Typically people do not come to places such as these alone."

She chuckled sheepishly, letting out a breath before smiling. “Sure, one more drink. That’s it. I may talk a big game with drinks, but I’m a lightweight; I’ll admit it.” That probably wasn’t the best idea, admitting that to a stranger, but as far as a judge of character goes, he was a decent person. He hasn’t given her a reason to distrust him. 

She paid close attention to his words and felt her heart hurt when he talked down on himself. She fixed her seating and moved closer to him, pushing herself forward to look directly at him. Despite being tipsy, she could still be assertive and intimidating… even if he was the one looking down at her and not the other way around. That wouldn’t stop her from confronting him. “Wait, no, that’s not right. Why would I need rescuing from you? You’ve been fine company thus far.” She playfully poked his chest as she admonished him and made eye contact. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, mister. You’re lovely company.” She offered a warm smile, hoping he’d do the same. She’d love to see him with a full grin. With the small smile he’s hiding, she could only imagine how spectacular he’d look teeth and all.

“I’ll admit, I’m not here alone or of my own volition… My friends dragged me out because they wanted me to get drunk and have fun. I’m not normally a club girl, but tonight it paid off.” She cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow playfully as she looked at him. “And just to be clear, I’m talking about you. You made tonight worth it.” She watched his facial expression, hoping she wasn’t overstepping any boundaries in her friendly endeavours.

“Now what about you? Tell me about yourself. Why are you here? Are you alone or with friends? What are your plans for tonight, Loki?” And do any of them involve me, she dared not ask out loud.

- Indie

[jovialyouthmusic]

Silver Service

The Royal Charity Tour continues with Portaveira’s fashion show - but with no models, what will Penelope do? Madeleine is looking for information.

Word count 3565

A/N No warnings, just some fun and some plot development

17 Stepping Out, Showing Off

Penelope was in a panic, and consulted her best friend, Kiara.

‘It’s going to be a disaster’ she whined, but Kiara rolled her eyes.

‘Calm down Penny’ she snapped ‘Emmeline is asking round for volunteers to model. We still have all the stylists and dressers, and once we’ve got some recruits we can go over the basics of runway logistics.’

‘Runway what?’ Penelope said in a panic ‘I don’t even know what that means.’ Kiara sighed. Penny wasn’t the brightest spark at the best of times.

‘You know, how to walk, how to show off the clothes, that sort of thing.’ At that moment, Emmeline came back into the room.

‘Okay girls, we had six models, but they’re used to changing quickly between costumes. If we try to find at least eight to replace them and take it a little slower we should be fine.’

‘Do you have anyone yet?’ Kiara asked hopefully as Penelope crouched and ran her fingers through Morgana’s curly coat to calm herself down. The little dog nuzzled her hand reassuringly and she reminded herself to breathe into her belly. Her heart rate steadied and she sighed, feeling a little better.

‘I have four from the staff – two maids, one of the kitchen assistants and the housekeeper’s daughter.’ her mother counted them off on her fingers.  ‘I’m having a little trouble finding male models though, so if you have any ideas…’ Just then she caught sight of Sophia passing in the corridor outside. She didn’t know her very well but knew who she was – and she looked just perfect for the job.

‘Miss Turner?’ she called ‘I wonder if I could ask you a favour.’

------

Olivia took her seat next to Liam in the front row next to the runway.

‘Feeling any better?’ he asked, and she sniffed disdainfully.

‘I got hold of a Lythikan remedy’ she said ‘I won’t be feeling queasy again’

‘Are you sure it’s safe to take something like that?’ he murmured.

‘I’m sure it will be fine’ she said ‘and Sophia said she’d get hold of a test for me’ Before Liam could tell her to keep her voice down, the lights went up and a very nervous Penelope and her mother appeared on the stage, the young woman squinting in the spotlight. She held a microphone in one hand and a dog lead in the other. Her little poodles accompanied her and wore outfits that matched her own. They sat quietly at her feet, attracting a few ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ from the audience. She cleared her throat.

‘Good – good afternoon, Your Majesty, Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Portaviera. I’d like to extend very warm greetings to King Liam on his first official visit as monarch to our beautiful county. Many thanks to him for sponsoring this and other events this season, and for travelling to attend in person’ She made a little curtsey, and he stood to bow and wave. Cameras clicked and flashed and the audience made a low sound of approval. As he sat, Penelope went on ‘Ladies and gentlemen, your Majesty, lords and ladies, you may know that last month we had some intense storms, and our coastline was very badly affected. Many businesses have suffered a drop in income or had to undergo expensive repairs, and some of our citizens have been made temporarily homeless’ Her voice shook to start with, but it steadied as she went on. ‘This afternoon we will be seeing some collections from local designers, and our very own Ana de Luca has donated some of her latest pieces to be auctioned here today to help those who have been so badly affected. Already we have sold many tickets toward the cause.  There are no fixed prices, and I hope you will all give generously to help our charities. We have provided lists of the designs and sizes available and you can begin bidding straight after the models finish, so please make notes’ She stopped and looked to her mother, who took the microphone.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, we have a surprise for you today. Unfortunately, the models who were going to show you our exquisite designs today were taken ill, so we have some volunteers in their place. Some of them are from my own staff, and some of them you may recognise.’ There were interested murmurs from the audience. ‘Without any further ado, we will begin. Please give a warm welcome to our volunteers’

Music started up, and a young woman appeared from the wings of the stage as Emmeline and Penelope stepped to the side. She was dressed in a flowing boho dress and strappy sandals and paused for a moment as Emmeline introduced her, before striding out along the runway. ‘Here we have Daisy, modelling a lovely dress by Christiana Kalos’

‘Well, that’s unconventional’ said Olivia quietly to Liam ‘that young woman poured my coffee this morning’ Liam smiled and clapped as the young woman stopped at the end of the runway, posed, and turned back as the next model appeared and was announced. He smiled in recognition

‘And this young lady brought me my shirt’ he remarked. Two more staff appeared in succession as the show went on, and after that Olivia laughed out loud

‘Oh my, that’s Lady Hana’ she said ‘It’s a wonder she’s not showing her own work, I happen to know she made an exquisite dress for Riley’ The crowd clapped enthusiastically to see a noble on the runway.

‘Talk of the devil’ Liam murmured as Riley appeared next, striding out confidently in a figure hugging cocktail dress and stilettos. ‘Oh this is very entertaining’ he chortled as Sophia appeared in a chic fitted blazer and pencil skirt. She smiled down at them as she passed, poised and elegant. The final model to appear before the staff came out again was Lady Kiara, who stalked along seductively with a sultry expression. Liam stared at her, mesmerised until Olivia reached across to hold his arm and squeeze so hard that he jumped and came out of his trance. The eight models went through a few changes before there was a pause and a change in the music to something more aggressive.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, your Majesty, we haven’t forgotten the men in the audience. Please welcome our volunteers, starting with young Jamie, wearing a tuxedo by Germain LePost’

‘Oh, that’s Emmeline’s chauffeur’ Liam laughed, and after that came one of the wait staff.

‘Oh. My. Goodness’ gasped Olivia, as Maxwell appeared on stage with a flourish, dressed in a sharp tailored suit. He threw back his head and strutted to the music, dramatically pausing from time to time to look around and point finger guns at the audience. He took twice as long as any of the other models, obviously lapping up the attention of the crowd, but finally his turn was over, and next…

‘Is that Bastien?’ Liam asked, squinting. It was indeed the Captain of the Guard, posing for a moment, his steely gaze and impassive features giving him gravitas as he posed for a moment in an indigo dinner jacket, bow tie and tailored black pants, his pointed black shoes polished to a mirror shine. He held the ivory topped cane that Liam had given him, and used it to stroll with poise to the end of the runway. He paused and tilted his head, furrowing his brow and looking off into the distance as if the crowd watching him wasn’t there.

‘Well’ said Olivia as he strolled nonchalantly back to the stage ‘I think Mr Lykel missed his vocation’ Liam nodded

‘He’s a natural’ he agreed ‘who would have thought?’

-------

Just before he had joined the King’s Guard, Bastien’s foster parents had suffered a financial setback when his foster father had been made redundant. Money was tight, and to help them out he had applied for as many jobs as he could. A modelling agency had told him he was just what they were looking for, and he had turned up for a photo shoot to find that the product he would be modelling was underwear. He was taken aback, and although he had an interview with the Guard, he had gone ahead with the shoot, hoping it wouldn’t come to light. He had almost finished his initial training when his superior, Jackson Walker discovered the photographs in a catalogue.

He had been certain he would be let go from the training programme, as it could compromise any undercover duties he might have in the future and perhaps bring the King’s Guard into disrepute. Luckily this was before widespread internet usage, Jackson was lenient and had the catalogues recalled for printing errors. Bastien’s file at the modelling agency had been destroyed. It was his first and only misdemeanour before he graduated at the top of his year group, and he still held an otherwise spotless record. Since then, only Lewis had equalled that record, and Sophia was the only person he had ever confided in.

He frowned at her, silently laughing as he changed into the final outfit behind the stage at the fashion show.

‘I told you about my history with the modelling agency in the strictest of confidence’ he scolded in a low tone. Sophia wiped her eyes and drew a calming breath.

‘Relax, Bastien. I didn’t tell anyone – it was Emmeline who suggested you as a volunteer’ she assured him ‘It was long enough ago that nobody would remember, surely. How could it possibly damage your record after all this time?’

‘I suppose it would be okay’ he grumbled ‘I couldn’t very well say no when I knew Maxwell Beaumont had jumped at the chance. If I hadn’t been here to calm him down we’d have had a pantomime instead of a fashion show’ Sophia put her hand on his shoulder.

‘Bas, you’re doing fine. From the reaction of the audience, we’re going to get some really good donations for the flood charities’ He lifted his chin in a gesture of resignation.

‘Well I suppose that’s some consolation. Come on, it’s us next’ The two of them linked arms and at the beckoning of the co-ordinator they stepped out along the gangway for the finale.

-------

That evening Liam and Olivia were relaxing in his lounge after dinner. There was a knock on the door and Sophia and Bastien entered. Olivia got up as Sophia rummaged in her purse and got out a paper bag, handing it over.

‘Thankyou Sophia’ she murmured as Liam shook Bastien’s hand and they started to discuss the security arrangements for the next day. ‘I’m still feeling odd. I’m not convinced I’m pregnant but it’s worth putting my mind at rest. I’ll take it later’ Sophia nodded

‘I’m sorry things are so complicated right now’ she said consolingly ‘How are things going with Anton?’ Liam heard what she was saying and indicated to Bastien that he should pour some drinks for himself and Sophia.

‘He’s asking for his own security team’ he said, tight lipped ‘We’re basically stalling him as much as we can while our teams look for a loophole. Meanwhile Lucretia refuses to say anything else and Anton is still demanding that Olivia visit him.’

‘I take it he wants staff that are loyal to him rather than the Crown’ Bastien said ‘If we ask him specifically who he wants, we can vet them and stall a little longer’ Liam sighed heavily.

‘I’m beginning to think he’s got a good case’ he said ‘If we don’t find something in the next week, we may have to give in to his demands’

‘What do you think he’ll do if I am pregnant and he finds out?’ Olivia asked. Liam passed his hand over his face.

‘Probably accuse you of treason as well, or adultery. I really hope it doesn’t come to that’

------

‘Well done, Penelope’ Madeleine said, arranging her face into what she hoped was a sincere smile. The jubilant young noble bent down to pick up her little dogs and snuffled nose to nose with them. She was just like a poodle herself, Madeleine decided, shuddering at the insanitary gesture. ‘I know I wasn’t very supportive of you when we were competing for Liam’s affections, but I’m sure we can be friends now’ Penelope smiled happily, pleased at the success of the fashion show.

‘Oh Maddy, thankyou’ she trilled ‘I’m so sad you didn’t get to be Queen, you would have done a super job’ Madeleine kept the saccharine smile as she replied.

‘Well, he’s not picked anyone, so perhaps there’s still hope’ She dropped the smile, instead looking serious ‘It would have been so good for you to be one of my ladies in waiting you know’ She gritted her teeth and gave one of the little dogs a pat on the head. It snarled and she snatched her hand back.

‘Naughty Morgana’ Penelope scolded ‘Maddy’s a friend. Now come along, shake paws like a good little doggy’ The creature sat on its hind legs and gave her a sceptical look but obeyed, holding out her little paw. Gingerly Madeleine reached out and gently took it, making two mental notes – one, make sure she had antiseptic wipes in her purse, and two, look for some doggy treats to slip to the dogs when Penelope wasn’t looking.

‘Can you imagine how it might have been?’ Madeleine went on, drawing back her hand and masking her distaste. ‘Of course I understand now how important your little – dogs - are. I’m sure they’d be very cute accompanying the court’

‘Oh do you really think so?’ Penelope answered, her eyes shining, then her butterfly mind fluttered on to another subject. ‘Liam really needs to get an heir as soon as he can, you know’

‘I know’ Madeleine smiled, and moved closer to her, lowering her voice ‘Do you know, he’s been very friendly with Lady Olivia lately. Tell me, are their rooms close?’ Penelope wrinkled her forehead.

‘Actually, he did ask for adjoining suites. After all, Lythikos is a very important duchy. Just imagine if anything were to happen to the new King – she might be Queen instead. It doesn’t bear thinking about. We have to be nice to Olivia, in case she ends up on the throne’ Madeleine didn’t have to pretend her disgust at that thought.

‘Dreadful’ she said ‘You know, it really would be better if I could somehow persuade Liam to make me his Queen. If only I could find out just how close he is to Olivia. Who knows, she might be in league with Anton. I don’t entirely trust that American woman even though she’s smooching with Drake – or the English woman with Bastien’ Penelope looked shocked at the thought.

‘I could ask the maid who’s cleaning their rooms’ she said, slowly, and Olivia widened her eyes in mock surprise. She paused a moment as if what she said next hadn’t been in her mind all along.

‘You’ll be far too busy sorting out the donations and arranging the delivery of the clothes from the fashion show, surely Penny’ she said, pausing again as if her mind was ticking over ‘If you told the maid to report to me it might be better – I’ve not got much to do at the moment’ she said brightly. Again Penelope frowned, and Madeleine almost screamed in frustration as she pictured the cogs turning in her head, but at last her face cleared.

‘You’re right Maddy, it’s so complicated and I’ve got so much to do. Thanks for offering - I’ll call Susan straight away and you can tell her what to do’

-------

Susan was a slight young woman, unobtrusive, quick and efficient. But what Madeleine liked most about her was her inquiring nature. To put it mildly, she loved gossip, and had plenty to tell.

‘That Lady Olivia, she’s so snarky’ she said conspiratorially ‘She doesn’t like me being in her room so I have to clean when she’s out’ Madeleine affected a casual expression of interest – it was all that was needed for her to tell more ‘That’s not difficult’ she continued ‘She barely uses her rooms and you’d think she doesn’t sleep, her sheets are hardly ruffled when I go to change them.’ Her eyes narrowed ‘The King – now his bedclothes are always of a tangle, he must be a very restless sleeper’ Excitement built inside Madeleine – should she prompt her to put two and two together?’

‘Their suites are next to each other, aren’t they?’ she asked

‘Oh yes, Miss Penelope said he asked specific to be close’ she affirmed. Her eyes grew wide. ‘You don’t think…’ her face was a picture of astonishment ‘Oh my, do you think they’re…’ her voice dropped to a whisper ‘sleeping together?’ Inwardly crowing with triumph, instead Madeleine looked shocked.

‘Oh my goodness, just think!’ she said ‘I can see they’re close, but that close?’

‘Look here’ Susan said, drawing closer so Madeleine could smell the bleach she used ‘I can keep my eyes open, let you know what I find’

‘That would be interesting’ Madeleine said thoughtfully ‘After all, if he’s not engaging with anyone else, perhaps I still have a chance to be Queen’ Susan’s eyes grew round. ‘You know, if I was Queen, I’d have Penelope as one of my ladies in waiting’ she went on ‘and I’m sure she’d want a member of her staff to go to the Palace with her…’ Susan nodded enthusiastically

‘I get your drift’ she said ‘You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Leave it to me, I’ll find out just how close the King is to Lady Olivia’

‘It might be as well to keep an eye on the other ladies’ Madeleine smiled warmly ‘You know, the American and the British woman’

‘Say no more – I’ll be your eyes and ears, Lady Madeleine’ Susan asserted, and this time, Madeleine’s smile was completely genuine.

------

Olivia stared at the line in the window of the pregnancy test. Positive. She couldn’t quite believe what she was looking at. A few weeks ago, before she knew about her betrothal to Anton, she would have been happy for this to happen. Now her head throbbed and her heart pounded and her mind raced. Liam waited politely on the other side of the door. It wasn’t fair to him to have to wait, she thought, but she couldn’t move. He had been nothing but supportive since she suggested the arrangement – bear the heir without insisting on being Queen.

Where did that leave her now? If the marriage to Anton was found to be unbreakable, she was guilty – of what exactly? If Anton was King and she, his Queen, was pregnant with another man’s child – not just another man, but the deposed King… She hung her head and tried to steady her breath. Anton could claim more treason – and what would he do with the baby? He was, by all accounts, a very driven man who stopped at nothing to achieve his aims. Would he allow her to come to term? Discard her, have her ‘disposed of’? Her mind raced. Would he adopt the child and subvert it to accept him as its father? Would he have it taken away? A sob escaped her before she steeled herself and got up unsteadily to open the bathroom door. Liam sat by the window, and looked up at her in query. Her face told him all he needed to know, and he leapt up and came to her.

‘Livvy’ he pulled her into his embrace ‘I’ve got you’ he said, his deep tone vibrating to the centre of her being. She loved him, wanted to make him happy, but she wasn’t sure how to do it any more. ‘We’ll face this together’ he said, and another sob escaped her. His hand made soothing circles over her back. How did he know just how comforting she found that, she wondered.

‘Another human being’ he whispered ‘I’d give my life to protect it’ She steeled herself and looked up at him.

‘I really hope you don’t have to’ she said quietly ‘you’re not the only one who wants to fight for him – or her. To my last breath’ She drew away from him and stood tall.

‘I want to go back to Lythikos’ she said. Liam looked alarmed.

‘We have a while before it’s your turn to host the charity tour’ he pointed out ‘We have the polo match in Krona, and the golf tournament in Comery Isles before we’re due to go there’ Olivia’s mind spun. She had to protect her unborn child and her future was uncertain.

‘There’s no reason for us to be together now I’m pregnant’ she said coldly ‘If I’m in Lythikos it will deflect any interest in me for now – and Anton won’t find out. If he’s successful in his bid I’ll find my way out of Cordonia. If he’s not, we can be seen together again.’ Liam’s face twisted.

‘Livvy’ his voice broke ‘I want to be with you…’ She laughed harshly, her heart breaking. All this time, all these years when she had longed for him to say those words. But it was impossible right now.

‘I don’t think we can’ she said bitterly ‘Perhaps when the business with Anton is concluded – one way or another’

@emceesynonymroll @sirbeepsalot @cora-nova @stopforamoment @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria

@drakesensworld @katedrakeohd @pedudley @indiacater @texaskitten30

@be-still-my-aching-heart @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @classylady1234 @ladyangel70

@rainbowsinthestorm @nomadics-stuff @gardeningourmet @furiousherringoperatortoad @kimmiedoo5

@bascmve01  @ibldw-main @addictedtodrakefanfic @trappedinfandoms @princess-geek

[artificialqueens]

The Goode Case, 3/14 - Juno

Chapter Summary: Jaida can’t sleep, thanks to her recurring nightmare, which prompts her to relive how Jackie revealed her own gift, and how she found out about Jaida’s, in an evening that Jaida, Jackie and Brita are unlikely to forget any time soon …

(A/N: I really appreciate your supportive comments, thank you! Hopefully I will have another update ready in the next couple of days on this monster of a story. For now though, here is part three.)

Sunday 29thOctober

4.13AM

Jaida sat up, drenched in sweat from the familiar nightmare.

She blinked, and she could still see her Papa in the corner, as she had that horrible night.

The nightmare was almost always just a replay of the experience. The first time she recalled seeing a spirit.

She and her parents had stayed in the room with her beloved Papa’s body in the coffin the night before his wake, when Jaida was just seven. She’d known her Papa was in the coffin, but suddenly his spectre was in the corner, pale and blank; she’d watched him walk from the corner of the room to Jaida, while Jaida lay paralysed with fear, unable to make a sound; and reach his hand towards her, bringing his face closer …

That was always the point that Jaida woke up, and today was no different. She waited for her eyes to focus in the dark, her breathing to calm, and she closed her eyes, counted to five, and when she opened them, Papa had disappeared as he always did.

But the memory didn’t fade. It never did.

Jaida had not had many close relatives die, but she remembered her friend Marty back in senior year of high school, seeing his mom behind him, reaching to shake his shoulder, but Jaida being the only person to see her. Marty had spun round at Jaida’s cry, not seeing his mom even though she was right there, clear as crystal, to Jaida’s eyes at least. He’d then avoided Jaida the rest of senior year when it had turned out his mother had had a fatal heart attack earlier that day.

And later at college. Laura stood on the bridge, looking down at the water, then at Jaida, then at the water again. A day before Jaida had found out that Laura had leapt from that same bridge three days ago.

Part of Jaida really hated the gift – or curse, as she thought privately – but without it, she and Jackie wouldn’t have become so close so quickly. Jackie’s telepathy, and subsequent mental bond that she’d formed with both Jaida and Brita, had been weird at first, but now Jackie was the only person who knew about Jaida’s ability.

Jackie referred to it as mediumship, while Jaida just called it a pain in the ass.

Jackie couldn’t see these spirits, just as Jaida couldn’t read minds, but at least Jackie knew that she wasn’t crazy, or lying. And as the oldest, the self-appointed ‘mom friend’ of the group, Jackie would often look after them at her own expense.

For instance, at this moment, Jaida knew that her nightmare, and seeing her Papa in her room, would have made Jackie wake up, sensing Jaida’s terror even from this distance, thanks to that psychic bond that Jaida had insisted on trying out with her. Jackie would now be online, waiting for Jaida to message her if she needed anything.

Sure enough, when Jaida picked up her phone, waiting for her eyes to focus, Jackie was the only person online, apart from that one girl from college who’d moved to London and was five hours ahead.

Springing from her memory, she remembered Jackie describing her telepathy to her and Brita, after they’d taken Jackie to Vanjie’s after her first week.

————————————

It was, oddly enough, Brita’s idea. Brita was not one to suggest a trip to the bar, normally being more inclined to rest at home in the evenings one of her hoards of books and a mug of hot chocolate; but the day Jackie joined back in June, that fateful Monday, Brita was dumped. By text, as well.

Brita had pulled Jaida into the bathroom at the end of the day, outwardly as always a tower of strength, professional and proud; to crumple into a heap over the sink, inconsolable, crying so desperately that it was all Jaida could do not to cry herself.

Luckily for Brita, her seemingly endless torrent of friends rang her phone off the hook the next few days, trying to persuade her to go out, telling her to forget him, sending her pictures of plenty of hot men and women to drool over. Brita had just chuckled, but Jaida knew she was feeling the love from all angles at this time.

That week she’d already been out with her friend Paul Mantione and his sister Jan on the Wednesday; and her two older sisters on the Thursday for food and plenty of red wine; but Friday she suggested to Jaida a trip to Vanjie’s after work, as Vanjie’s was for an LGBT+ crowd which suited them both. They’d invited Jackie mostly out of politeness, not sure how she would feel in a gay bar, but Jackie had accepted with such enthusiasm that it seemed to seal the deal.

Vanessa, the owner of Vanjie’s, and Brita had been joined at the hip through most of college, but Vanessa had bought the lease to the bar after winning big money on her spontaneous trip to Vegas that time, along with her on-again off-again partner Brooke. At that time, they were off-again, which meant Vanessa wanted everyone to enjoy themselves as much as possible, and that meant free shots.

So the tequila slammer was free, and that served to loosen the pockets for one more each. Tequila slammers were not Jackie’s strong suit, but Jaida could probably take three and be fine, and the three of them had ended up in a booth afterwards with some tall cocktails, heads feeling fuzzier and fuzzier.

After two slammers and a cocktail, Jackie’s tongue had loosened considerably. She had started finishing Jaida’s sentences, and then Brita’s too. It started to become a little annoying, Jaida had to admit.

But then Jackie was finishing sentences, and starting sentences that Jaida was only thinking.

“How are you doing that?” Jaida had asked Jackie, whose face was getting quite pink. She had leaned in towards Brita and Jaida, putting a finger to her lips.

“I can hear other peoples’ thoughts,” Jackie had whispered, laughing at her own remark.

Of all the things that Jaida might have expected Jackie to respond, that had been pretty low on the list. Jaida could only stare open-mouthed, and finally nod. “Okay, that’s cool.”

“Maybe you’ve had enough now, Jacks,” Brita had laughed uneasily.

“No, you don’t understand, it’s a gift, my mom says. Well, I didn’t ask for it, and it’s a bit strange, and sometimes I don’t know what it does, so it’s like, a perfect birthday gift from relatives,” Jackie had continued, still laughing.

“Child –“

“You’re joking, right?” Brita had asked in a low voice.

“No, Brita, it’s real,” Jackie had sighed. “Okay, think of something and I’ll tell you it.”

“Alright,” Brita had screwed up her face in concentration.

“Oh, come on, you have to think of something harder than that! You’re just thinking about your birthday. It’s September 16th. I thought you were going to test me!”

The smile fell from Brita’s face, and Jaida had felt her own stomach twist uncomfortably. Jackie had just snorted with laughter at both of them.

“Your faces! Oh my god! You didn’t believe me at first!” She’d placed a hand on Jaida’s forearm. “Do you believe me now?”

“What’s mine, then?” Jaida had asked, thinking of a random date.

But Jackie had cocked an eyebrow. “You’re thinking of July 10th, but you’re trying to throw me off. That’s not your actual birthday.”

“Wait, what?” Brita had looked stunned, her eyes wide, turning from Jackie to Jaida and back again.

Jaida had felt a strange lump in her throat. “That was the right date I was thinking, but it’s not actually my birthday. How – how did you know?”

Jackie had shrugged. “I hear almost everyone’s thoughts. Mostly just whispers. So if there’s a lot of people in a group, they all get confused, but if I’m just with one or two people, I can hear the whispers.”

“Can you hear, like anyone’s thoughts? Like, can you hear Lisa Rinna’s thoughts?” Brita had asked in awe.

But Jackie had shook her head. “No, I can only hear people who are nearby, like, not more than about two metres away. So I can hear your thoughts, just the whispers, but I can’t hear Vanessa’s at the bar. Only people who are nearby. Unless they’re someone I’ve connected with.”

“Connected with?” Jaida had asked.

“So if I form a mental connection with someone, I can also know when they’re feeling an extreme emotion, wherever they are in the world. When my mom was ill, I felt it every time she woke up in pain, or was in hospital, or thought she was dying, or was scared or like, really excited when she was getting better. She’s in Toronto.”

“Is she better now?”

“She’s much better, thank you.”

“Does that mean she can read your thoughts too?” Brita had whispered.

“I don’t think so. I don’t think anyone can. Unless you’re also psychic.” Jackie had hiccuped and then giggled. “Sorry, alcohol makes me chatty! But, I think everyone is a little bit psychic, maybe in different ways.”

And Jackie had turned to Jaida, looking straight in her eyes.

Could Jackie hear her own thoughts …

Jaida forced herself not to think about anything, to make her mind as blank as possible.

“SHOTS! Who ordered shots? Oh wait, it was me!” It was Vanessa who’d broken the spell, appearing at the corner of the booth, three more tequila shots and a plate of lemon and salt beside it. “Get some shots down your throats ladies, and maybe later get something else down your throats too!” Vanessa had cackled at her own joke.

Jaida had felt her shoulders relax a little. Jackie wasn’t a big drinker, and was a bit more drunk than she and Brita were, so Brita had taken two slammers leaving Jackie to just relax, and take a sip of the water on the table.

“Who do you have a connection with then?” Jaida had asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Whoever I choose,” Jackie had replied mysteriously, wriggling her fingers in both their directions before collapsing into giggles.

——————————————————

Jaida looked at her phone. Jackie was still online, and Jaida knew she wouldn’t log off without a prompt.

Jaida:I’m ok Jackie, thanks

Jackie: He can’t hurt you

Jaida:I know

Jackie always told Jaida this, every time Jaida had seen … someone. She wasn’t sure how Jackie had so much knowledge of all this psychic stuff, and she wasn’t even sure why Jackie was so open about it with people she had hardly met. Part of Jaida was convinced that Jackie found out about it from that night in Vanjie’s, although it wasn’t confirmed until … until that night at Jackie’s apartment.

She had a gnawing sense of regret at asking Jackie to do what she’d crudely titled “the connection thing” with her. Brita had been a bit more cautious as usual, but Jaida had wanted to know what it meant. And if it would make her know Jackie’s thoughts too.

——————————————————

In mid-July, Jackie invited them both to her apartment, as a bit of an attempt to get to know the two of them a little better. She had moved in with some girl who had so many jobs that she was never in, but left a whirlwind of clothes and bowls of cornflakes in her wake.

Jaida marvelled at the atmosphere that Jackie had managed to create. They rented, so they weren’t allowed to do major renovation, but a patterned shawl here and a plant or two there had given the plain magnolia walls some life. The living room led out to a tiny Juliet balcony with just enough room for the ashtray and a packet of menthols next to it, and a pair of dirty walking boots on the floor.

There were two bookshelves along the wall of the living area, a large oblong room with a dining table pushed against one wall. Jaida ran a finger along the titles, several French books among them too, and a small collection of Farsi books in the top left shelf.

“You got almost as many books as Brita!”

“I’ve got far more books than this!” Brita waved her hand dismissively.

“Some of these are my housemate’s as well.”

“Wait, you speak French?” Jaida pointed to one of the French titles.

“Sure. I’m Canadian, we had to take French at school.”

“And are these Farsi?”

Jackie nodded. “I’m bilingual in Farsi and English. I wish I got the chance to speak it more, normally I just chat to my mom or her siblings, when they call up. It’s easy to lose bits of it when you don’t speak it or use it too much.”

“And is this … oh, girl,” Jaida pulled the chess set out from one of the middle shelves, her eyes lighting up. “I haven’t played since seventh grade.”

“What? That’s when I started playing!” Brita exclaimed.

Jackie laughed. “You’ll both have to teach me again, I’m so bad at chess. But go ahead and play if you want, while I get the food ready.”

A beautiful smell was coming from the kitchen area. When Jackie had said she’d cook for them, Jaida had maybe expected frozen pizza, but Jackie had really put in an effort to impress them, running back and forth, chopping and blitzing noises filling the room. Jaida and Brita unpacked the chess pieces and started to play, but Brita kept calling to Jackie to see if she needed any help.

“Nope! It’s all under control!” Came Jackie’s chirpy reply each time.

In chess, Jaida had learned long ago to watch her opponent’s eyes to see where they was thinking of moving to and from, and sure enough Brita’s brown eyes flicking between the pieces gave away her every thought. Jaida liked to pride herself on having a much better poker face, letting her vision drift across the board, and trusting her instinct, even if her pieces started disappearing.

When Jackie finally came to sit in front of them, it was Brita’s move, and she was scratching her neck and licking her lips. Brita was one of those who took five minutes or more with each move, planning her strategy each time, always meticulous to take every single angle into account.

Jackie moved her gaze between them both, a small smile playing on her lips, not attempting to break the silence, just enjoying having their company in her home.

“You’re both really interesting to listen to, while you’re playing,” Jackie said finally, as Brita moved her bishop into place.

“What?”

“I mean, your thoughts, your plans for the game. You’re both strategising. You’re both just thinking about your plans.”

“Oh, okay.” Jaida ignored Jackie and moved her rook past Brita’s bishop. “Check.”

“Wait, how?” Brita peered at the board. “Ah, shit,” she mumbled as she realised. “Shit, sis, I completely missed that.”

“Sorry,” Jackie whispered, getting up and moving back to the kitchen.

Brita reached to her. “No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that!” She got up and followed Jackie to the kitchen. Jaida glanced at the board, then sighed and got up.

A minute later, Brita measuring out rice, while Jackie handed Jaida some vegetables from the bottom drawer of the fridge. Brita had felt like she’d insulted Jackie, and had insisted they help with some food prep. Jaida had been volunteered for salad.

“What is it?” Jaida peered into the simmering pan. “Smells great.”

“Khoresh Bademjan. It’s Persian. You’ll like it, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t. And don’t worry, Jaida, I made it vegetarian.”

“Cool, thanks,” Jaida smiled.

The food was gorgeous, although Jackie kept glancing at them, as if looking for some kind of validation – but once they were all done, Brita immediately leapt from her chair and dragged Jaida to the sink to tackle the washing up. With Jaida drying and Brita washing, Jackie insisting on putting the dishes away, they settled into a comfortable silence between the three of them.

“Thanks for everything, Jackie.” Jaida passed her the last dish and cleared her throat. “Sorry I made you feel a bit – you know, weird. That was rude of me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Jackie shook her head sadly. “I’m used to keeping it to myself, but it kind of feels nice to talk about it though.”

Jaida had to admit she’d only half-considered how Jackie was feeling about talking about it.

“Do lots of people know?” Brita asked her.

But Jackie shook her head. “My mom does, and one or two of my closest friends back home. And you guys, but we’re friends too, right?”

“Sure, we have each other’s backs!” Brita pulled Jackie into a one-armed hug, squeezing Jackie into her side.

“If you’re psychic, why can’t you just wash these dishes with your mind?”

They’d rarely heard Jackie laugh louder than at Jaida’s remark. “Jai, that’s telekinesis! I’m only telepathic! Well, I say only telepathic!” And she carried on laughing. “I only hear thoughts, nothing else, I can’t move things!”

“So you can hear our thoughts, but you have to, like, connect with someone to be able to have a mental bond?” Jaida asked. “I don’t quite get it.”

“I guess … people I have a bond with, I hear more clearly. People I don’t I just hear whispers, but anyone I have a bond with, I can hear what they’re thinking really clearly, and from a longer distance.”

“Who have you got a bond with then?”

“Oh, you know, not many people,” Jackie murmured.

“Family? Friends?” Brita badgered.

Jackie sighed. “Those kinds of people, yes. My mom, a couple of my friends. One ex.” Jackie shuddered. “Bad decision. Wouldn’t recommend it.”

“What about us? Would you do the connection thing with us? For work?”

Jaida hadn’t expected the words to come right out of her mouth, but now that they were, Jackie looked as if she was pondering it. Maybe Jaida had felt that she needed to make it up to Jackie for earlier. Maybe … it was a sort of morbid curiosity.

Jackie’s gaze had softened, and she’d shrugged.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Jackie mused, “if we’re working on any high profile cases together, and if anything happens to you, I would know.”

“And vice versa?” Jaida asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jackie muttered, “but nothing has really ever happened to me.”

“You can’t tempt fate, sis,” Brita chuckled darkly.

“Okay,” Jaida said, “it makes sense to do it. What do you do, to connect?”

“I’m not so sure about this,” Brita hesitated.

“Come on Brita, it does make sense. Especially in our line of work. Does it take long, Jackie?” Jaida asked.

“It probably won’t take longer than about fifteen seconds, and I just need some form of touch, and eye contact. And you need to be willing, of course.”

Jaida held out a hand on the bench, and Jackie gingerly took it, raising her eyes to meet Jaida’s.

“You sure you want to do this? You don’t want to back out?” Jackie’s voice was higher than usual, and a little bit timid, as if she were afraid to have any form of connection with them.

“Go ahead, Jackie,” Jaida tried to make her voice sound as stable as she could.

“Okay. And you have to keep eye contact, until the end. You’ll know when it’s the end.”

Jackie took a deep breath in and out, and Jaida did the same, feeling her body relax a little bit as she did so. At first Jaida felt nothing, but held Jackie’s eyes, both of them falling silent. She could see Brita shifting out of the corner of her eye, but she kept focused on Jackie, breathing steadily, normally.

The seconds passed, but nothing was happening. She could see Brita biting her lip, a little confused.

“Nothing’s happening,” Jaida opened her mouth to say, or at least she thought she did, but nothing came out of it, and she wasn’t even sure her mouth moved.

“What?” She tried to say, but her mouth definitely didn’t move that time.

Jackie was still staring into her, and it was becoming intrusive, unnerving, but Jaida found she couldn’t look away, she was becoming a little light-headed at the focus.

She felt an internal jerk, as if electricity had gone through her; felt her mind race, a whole rush of emotions and memories play back to her in her mind, some echoes of thoughts that weren’t her own; saw herself briefly through Jackie’s own eyes, felt her own hand in Jackie’s, heard herself thinking thoughts that were definitely not her …

Jackie pulled back, blinking and shaking her head wildly, and Jaida was finally freed, feeling as if she had been yanked backwards out of a vacuum. She rubbed her forehead, finding she was sweating.

“Woah,” Jaida whispered.

It was rare to see Brita scared. Her wide eyes flicked between Jaida and Jackie, her mouth agape, looking less and less sure she wanted to do this.

Jackie held out a hand to her. “Brita?”

Brita was no coward, Jaida knew this well from the various jobs she had seen Brita complete. She might have been frightened, but she nodded slowly, holding her own hand out, facing Jackie and locking eyes with her.

Jaida watched them both. Watched as Jackie’s face grew intense with concentration. Watched as Brita’s brow furrowed, as if she were in pain.

“Ow,” she breathed.

But Jackie didn’t relent.

“Oww,” Brita’s voice was weak, but she maintained focus.

They both flinched at the same moment, pain etched in the lines on their foreheads, but Jaida didn’t know what to do in this strange psychic battle. It seemed to be going on longer than she had done with Jackie, their stares so intense they could have burned through each other.

“Jackie, what’s happening?” She asked, but Jackie didn’t respond, nor Brita, both still intensely concentrated on each other.

“What’s –“ Jaida raised a hand, but they both jolted at that moment, breaking apart, Brita ripping her hand away, and Jackie looking down at the floor, biting her lip.

“Sorry,” she muttered, “it’s not meant to hurt so much. It never has with anyone else …”

But Brita, her eyes glassy, blinked twice and stumbled out of the room as if she hadn’t heard, making her way away to the bathroom.

“Brita?” Jaida started to move after her, but Jackie grabbed her forearm.

“Let her go, Jaida, I think she needs to be alone,” Jackie murmured, and Jaida stepped backwards, watching Brita’s dazed walk to the bathroom.

Jaida’s own mind was reeling at the contact. Her mind raced with questions.

Were she and Jackie now bonded to each other mentally?

Did that mean that Jackie knew about Jaida’s own sixth sense, the Bruce Willis cliché twist; that Jaida saw spirits that most others didn’t?

“Yes,” Jackie muttered. “And yes.”

Jaida saw Jackie watching her, her eyes full of something that Jaida thought was … pity.

————————————————————————

Jaida sighed at the memory. It had brought the three of them closer, that was for sure, but Jackie had refused to tell Brita what Jaida saw. Just as she had refused to tell Jaida what had happened with Brita too – she’d argued that they both needed to take charge themselves.

The clock said almost four thirty by now, and Jackie was still online, so Jaida turned her phone off. Jackie would go offline and back to sleep, as long as she knew Jaida was alright. The mom-friend, who wanted to save everyone in the world.

Jaida wondered if Jackie had craved that support, that care, when she was learning about her own telepathy; to make her offer herself so selflessly now.

She lay back down, pondering that warm July night.

And Brita … she and Brita knew so much about each other. Jaida had been the first person to whom Brita had confessed to being attracted to women as well as men, and Jaida had helped Brita plan her coming out to her sisters and parents. And when Silky had broken up with Jaida back in May, Brita had been at her house within half an hour, mopping up the tears that Jaida rarely let the world see, getting them both dressed and made up, and pulling both Jaida and Widow to a karaoke bar to belt out some tunes, Heidi hot on their heels.

Jaida smiled fondly at that memory. Jaida was a terrible singer, she knew that, and Widow was a bit too shy to sing, but Brita’s voice was fantastic. When Brita had hit the high note in Unbreak My Heart, Jaida had felt goose pimples run down her arms, before she was crying again and Widow had wrapped her up, not saying a word, simply letting Jaida unravel in her arms, while Heidi had stroked her back soothingly.

It was wrong that Brita still didn’t know what her gift was. Jackie was right – Jaida knew that she and Brita were keeping huge parts of themselves hidden from each other, even though they’d been friends for three years.

Enough was enough.

Jaida resolved to talk to Brita in the morning.

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader -”What Death Tastes Like”

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 2      Part 3      Part 4      Part 5

“Hi daddy,” Emma enters the kitchen and you follow, immediately greeting The Joker.

“Hello Mister J.”

“Pumpkin,” he acknowledges his daughter. “Miss Crane,” he growls at your presence and you can’t help it:

“I like your purple shirt Mister J; makes you look ravishing.”

“Oh yeah?” he scoffs, used to the 22 year old throwing this kind of stuff his way on a regular basis.

“Definitely!” you approach and point at his can of grape juice. “Can I take a sip?”

“Since when you like grape juice?’ The Clown Prince of Crime frowns but hands over the container anyway.

“I don’t,” you taste the sweet liquid and continue: “I just wanted to touch something your lips touched.”

“That’s a new one!” he rolls his eyes and snatches back his drink while Emma closes the fridge in a hurry, appalled you always flirt with her father.

“Keep her on a leash!” J advises his offspring and you snicker as she pushes you out of the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you say those things to him!” Emma gives you a nudge on the hallway, amused and horrified in the same time. “He could be your dad!”

“But he’s not,” you wink, dodging her grip. “He could be my daddy though!”

“You shameless jerk!!” she laughs and starts chasing you. “How dare you??!!”

“He’s really hot for being 40-ish!” the enthusiastic Y/N teases more, speeding up so she won’t get caught. “I’m going to marry him and I’ll be your step mom. You’ll have to call me mommy!”

“Whaaaattt??!!” Emma shouts and The King of Gotham shakes his head because he can still perceive your aberrations: the truth is he’s uncertain if that’s all they are, thus the dilemma J doesn’t care to solve regardless.

You quickly run into Emma bedroom and snatch a pillow in order to protect yourself from her attack.

“I love your dad!” you grin and she keeps relentlessly hitting you with her fluffy cushion, annoyed:

“I hate you!! I totally hate you!!!”

You suddenly start coughing and your best friend halts her rampage, concerned.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Where’s your med?”

You pull the vial out of your jean’s pocket and she opens it while your cough intensifies; Emma fingers tremble at the sight of blood stains on the palm of your hand.

“Here, take this. Two?”

“Y-yes,” you struggle to talk and swallow the tablets, finding it difficult to calm down without the remedy you failed to ingest earlier before the worse happened.

“Come’ere,” she carefully sits you on the bed and begins wiping the red spots off your skin with a clean tissue. “There you go… Deep breaths, OK?” the young woman urges on the verge of crying: although she’s used to your episodes, she can’t cope with the thought of losing her best friend.

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; she didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late.

“Better?” Emma analyzes your face and you can tell how upset she is, that’s why you try to distract her the best way you know how.

“Is your dad wearing a new cologne?”

“Huh?”

“He smells sooooo good, I swear I get this uncontrollable desire to kiss him all over,” you cough a bit more and she slaps your thigh, outraged.

“Would you stop it???!!!”

“I think he’ll miss me when I’m gone,” you playfully giggle. “Who else would flirt with an old man in his 40’s?!”

“Stupid girl…” Emma’s voice quivers since she doesn’t like to be reminded you’ll leave her. You both are silent for a few moments before she gathers the strength to continue the planned evening.

“I’m going to prepare you a nice, warm bath, then we’ll tag along with my dad at his Neon Devil club, alright?” she pouts and you don’t have the heart to admit you don’t feel like going out anymore.

“Sure… … sounds perfect,” you sigh and underline. “Only if I can spend some time alone with Mister Joker in the VIP section.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Emma concludes and you won’t quit.

“I didn’t say anything bad, you’re the perv for thinking indecencies regarding a man and a woman…alone… in the luscious VIP room… a few drinks… music blasting… attractiveness mooing to be unleashed…”

“Mooing???” she burst out laughing, forgetting she was about to admonish on your crazy ideas…again.

“Yup, mooing…” you proclaim with delight. “It’s a very sexy term, won’t you agree? … … Sexy like your dad!” you immediately blur out and stomp towards the bathroom while she hunts you down with the only purpose of shutting down the outpour of nonsense flowing out of you.

***************

Neon Devil Club, 10:36pm

“Are you going to dance?” Emma’s red cheeks pop up next to you.

“No, not tonight. Don’t worry, I’m having fun!” you point at the two empty cocktail glasses in front of you, still working on your third one. “I think I might call it a night soon, I’m tired.”

“OK, Y/N. Let me know when, we’ll both go!” she yells over the deafening tune.

“Stay and have fun, I can get a ride!” you glare at The Joker sitting at the bar a few inches away from you, totally absorbed by his text messages.

“Are you sure?” Emma hesitates and you poke J’s arm in order to get his attention.

He finally looks up and his daughter pleads:

“Daddy, can you take Y/N back to our house when she’s ready? I want her to be there when I return, this way we can gossip after the wild intercourse I’m gonna have with one of these lucky guys!”

The Clown Prince of Crime stares at her, displeased with the comments.

“Hilarious,” he growls and she jumps up and down, excited to see Bane’s son in the crowd.

“Don’t get mad, daddy!” she pecks his cheek. “I’m joking… Maybe…” Emma chuckles at his grumpiness and you are proud of her achievement in mocking the forever serious Joker: despite the nickname, the green haired menace is not the epitome of joyfulness.

“Are you supposed to have alcohol with the medications you’re taking?” he gestures at your cocktail.

“Nope,” you serenely confess and guzzle down more. “I’m a burden to my father and he doesn’t even know it,” you sniffle and J senses something strange about your affirmation. “He locks himself in the lab for days, researching on ways to overcome my terminal cancer. Did you know Evelyn left him two weeks ago?” you ask and The King feels cornered; you’re probably tipsy and in mood to chat while he’s not. “She’s perfect for him and he let her go… He would ignore her for days, immersed in his ridiculous project of saving me. The amazing Doctor Crane can’t take the hint this is a battle he won’t win. I made peace with what’s happening to me, but he can’t...,” you wave at the bartender for another glass. “Why won’t my father accept the inevitable outcome?” the pain in your tone prompts J to mutter:

“He just tries to postpone the inevitable.”

“I’m grateful for his help,” you ramble on. “I take remedies he makes for me and it’s nice to avoid the traditional chemo and losing my hair. I don’t look like I’m dying, correct? If you wouldn’t weren’t aware of my illness, you couldn’t tell, right?”

“Yes,” The impatient Joker signals the bartender to halt mixing your fresh drink; in his opinion you had enough.

“I got my test results this morning, “ you disclose, pouting. “They’re bad…” Y/N inhales the rest of her liquid courage and taps on the marble counter, disappointed at her own statement. “Did you ever taste death?” the weird question makes him taunt.

“Naahhh.”

“This is what it tastes like,” the heartbroken Y/N softly kisses The Joker and his remark hurts more than her disappointing routine evaluation:

“Strawberry margarita?”

You hop off your high chair so fast he realizes you’re flustered; it was the first time you kissed him, not that kind of kiss anyway and he completely dismissed your candor in the worst possible way.  

“Can we go please?” you intensely glare at your sandals and J opts out of attempting to patch up his callous reply; possibly the best decision regarding these circumstances simply because it doesn’t affect him at all.

“Sure, we can bail,” he grumbles and escorts you out of the club, wondering if you are done talking about matters of no importance to him.

****************

The master bedroom is cracked opened and you knock until The Joker bothers to acknowledge your existence.

“What is it?”

You sneak inside, adamant to request a tiny favor.

“Can I watch TV in here?”

“Why?” he wiggles in the middle of his bed, certainly not thrilled at your proposal.

“I won’t inconvenience you, ok?” you evade his inquiry and still being a bit tipsy briefly aids your plan; your drag your feet to the humongous mattress, then slip inside the purple sheets at the edge of the bed. “You know… If I would have lived longer, I bet you would have married me,” you gaze at the man relaxing close to your body.

The Joker nonexistent eyebrows go up so high it’s possibly a new record: why did Emma have to stay at the club instead of distracting you from whatever the hell this is?!

“We would have had at least 4 kids…” you continue your story. “ I’m young so every two years I could have been convinced to get pregnant; we would have had a small army of little Jokers and Y/Ns… I picked a few names already, would you like to hear them?”

“NO!!” he sucks on his teeth, irritated.

“Hmm…” you get discouraged yet it doesn’t last. “ You would have died at 65…”

“Why would I die at 65?!” J interrupts and his interest gives you a boost of much needed confidence.

“Car accident; you’re a shitty driver,” you lift your shoulders up, instantly correcting your sentence. “I meant reckless.”

The Clown Prince of Crime huffs and the fact that he engaged into this monologue of yours hopefully suggests he won’t chase you away until you finish.

“After your demise I would have mourned you for a decent amount of months, then I would have remarried a guy my age, this way I’m not in any danger of becoming a widow for the second time. I would obviously have our children too so not to worry, I would have survived without you.”

“Awesome, I was anxious you won’t overcome the grief,” his sassiness triggers your approval.

“Indeed; yet I have to warn you: if you ever cheated on me, I would have asked my father to create a special virus to obliterate you from the face of the planet!”

“Why are you shouting?!” The Joker scratches his chin, confused about your attitude.

“Sorry,” you take it down a notch. “I always get emotional when I think about this part…”

“Is this soap opera of yours almost done?” the impatience emerges; I suppose you tested his composure enough.

“I really like you,” you cut off his vexation. “You should be happy a young woman would crave an older man in his 40’s or 50’s,” you snort while adding to his growing restlessness.

“I think it’s time for you and the alcohol in your system to take a nap!” J hints at your departure and you abruptly bring it up since he’s basically throwing you out:

“Do you like me? You never get mad or chase me when I flirt with you…” you scoot over and cuddle next to him.

“What are you doing?!” J gets pissed at your boldness.

“I’m cold,“ you lie without a problem and he’s done with the dumb night he had to put up with so far.

“Get out!” The King of Gotham snaps and his sudden aggressiveness throws you off.

“I want to stay and watch TV; I promise I’ll be super quiet from now on. Cross my heart and hope to die!” you smile and your silly pun doesn’t have the outcome you hoped for.

“You know why I indulge a shallow brat’s idiotic flirting?!” he raises his voice and you shrivel because you realize he won’t utter anything nice at this point. “Who wouldn’t feel sorry for a walking corpse, hm? Despite what people think, I’m not that insensitive!”

You gulp and slowly roll out of bed, trying not to cry in front of him; you don’t remember sensing a stronger pain in your life, not even after you got sick.

“You’re so mean, “ you whisper and can’t stop the first tears streaming down your face. “I wouldn’t have married you anyway,” you rush out of the master bedroom and The Joker reprises his movie, undisturbed at the events he created out of spite.

“Fuck…” he mumbles when it hits: Emma will chew him alive if she finds about his behavior; would you mention this to her? Or she would guess something went wrong if you depart from the mansion when she asked you to stay? The only person that counts is bound to make him rethink his awful actions; his daughter wouldn’t forgive him unless he patches up things. Might as well get it over with before he lands in hotter waters.

“Uggghhhh,” The Joker puckers his lips and contemplates his choices: not too many, thus he ends up in front of your bedroom 10 minutes after the fight.

He can discern your sobbing and opens the door without knocking because another human’s privacy is simply not his issue. You are standing by the windows and turn towards him, mad you didn’t lock the entrance.

“Your company is required in the master bedroom,” J elaborates on the subject and Y/N’s silence evokes a faint apology. “I don’t think you’re a walking corpse… … …”

No reaction.

“Come on, let’s watch TV in my room…”

“Why would you need a shallow brat’s idiotic company?” you blow your nose in a tissue and emphasize. “I don’t want your pity.”

“Crane’s a genius but the trait is clearly skipping a generation,” his way of attempting to restore the mood totally sucks. “It’s not pity.”

“What is it then?” you wipe your tears and he has no clue himself.

“Not…pity.”

Are you debating on his offer?

“Come on,” J grabs your hand and your resistance works a miracle nonetheless. “I’m sorry, alright? Not a word to Emma, deal? Or your dad, he would probably create a goddamned virus to exterminate me from this planet. Don’t laugh, it’s not funny,” he sulks, crabby at the idea of being killed for offending Scarecrow’s princess.

“I won’t…” you promise and you’re actually surprised when he lifts you up, guiding your legs around his waist.

“You can sleep in my bed if you want to… until Emma gets back,” The Joker recommends and you hide your astonishment the best way you can.

“Sleep like in dozing of or…?” you wish to determine and the response doesn’t fail to deepen the mystery:

“As I said, genius sometimes skips a generation.”

The King strolls out of the bedroom with Y/N clinging to him while he lifts her higher in his arms, closing his eyes when she kisses him.

And the only thing The Joker can think of for the moment is that if death tastes like this, it’s not the worst way to go.

Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[susspirria]

Make Me - Chapter One

Pairing: Handsome Jack/Rhys

Summary: After Rhys' bratty misbehavior and need for attention nearly causes a minor scandal for Hyperion, Jack takes him on a vacation to his private cabin in Promethea for a much needed attitude adjustment.

Tags/Warnings: Bratting,BDSM Scene,Dom/sub,Daddy Kink,Cock Cages,Suspension,Rough Sex,SpankingImpact Play,Orgasm Delay/Denial,Sex Toys Under Clothing Aftercare,Blindfolds,Masochism,Sadism,Come Marking,Creampie,Public Humiliation,Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Bondage

(Read here on ao3 or under the cut!)

Even after being Handsome Jack’s protege and pretty little pet for nearly three years, Rhys could never get used to how mercurial and hectic the older man’s schedule was. He could never help getting his hopes every time the two of them made plans together, only to get miserable and disappointed when Jack would end up canceling on them.

This day was no different, which was incredibly disappointing because Rhys had really gone all out for Jack this time. They had planned a night in, a romantic dinner and some private time together he had cooked a three course meal that consisted of: A tomato bisque as an appetizer, lemon chicken piccata as a main course and a vanilla panna cotta for dessert. He had dressed himself up in silk and lace lingerie underneath his best suit, so that Jack would be in for a pleasant surprise when he finally got Rhys undressed. He had been really looking forward to sitting in the older mans’ lap, having Jack fawn over him like he was something special. He always did, he loved when Jack was able to pay him attention and spoil him – he had been so deprived of it lately and it was driving him up the wall. Jack knew that, and he had promised that he would make all those late nights and canceled plans up to him.

Rhys waited in their penthouse, “casually” posing himself in a way that he hoped looked sexy to the older man on the love seat in their living room – so that he would be one of the first things that Jack saw when he strode through the front door. And he waited, and waited… and waited. As patiently as he could, but after a while, he got sick and tired of waiting and decided to send Jack a message.

[To Jack: Hey handsome, where are you? I’m already all dressed up and I got everything ready for you ;)]

After about five minutes – which, in Rhys’ mind was way too long of a wait – he finally got his response.

[From Jack: Sorry princess cant make it. Emergenc meeting w/Jakobs]

Rhys sighed in disappointment, before he started typing away – trying not to call Jack up and chew him out. It was the third time that something like this had happened this month alone and he was getting sick of it.

[To Jack: What, seriously? What the hell, Jack, we’ve been planning this for weeks!]

[From Jack: U know how those idiots are Ill make it up to you I promise bby 😘😘 😘]

Rhys sincerely doubted that, as far as he was concerned Handsome Jack’s promises held very little weight. He pouted and threw his comm down on the bed, letting it bounce of a few inches away from him. “Whatever.” He mumbled to himself, before he grabbed his comm again and decided to dial up Fiona and Sasha. He could have hung out with Vaughn, but that would have just been another chill night in and that was the opposite of what he wanted. He wanted to get so drunk that he could forget about how miserable being stood up by his boyfriend – again – made him feel.

Fiona answered the phone on the second ring, “What do you want, Rhys?” She said, instead of greeting him like a person, in a tired and grumpy sounding tone of voice.

Rhys pursed his lips at that, “Hello to you too, Fiona!” He replied, just as snide and sarcastic as she came off. “I’m doing great thanks for asking, you’re such a kind and considerate friend. Love that for you.” He bitterly sniped at her.

Fiona laughed sarcastically in reply to that. “Thanks, I try.” She said, “But seriously, why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” She asked, “You never call anymore…unless you want something.” She reminded him, speaking in a wistful sort of tone. Usually when he wanted to do something suspect or morally questionable things, he would call her or Sasha up. It wasn’t like Fiona was blaming him, though, it wasn’t like he could ask Vaughn or Yvette if either of them wanted to go to the up over bar, get blackout drunk and scam some scavengers out of their life savings. That was something that only the three of them could do together.

Rhys was quiet for a few moments, “…Jack stood me up.” He admitted. He was pretty sure that Fiona could hear him pouting all the way from Elpis.

“Again?” She asked, amusement obvious in her tone of voice. “Why don’t you just dump him at this point, if he neglects you so much?” She added, with some mock pity.

“What, no!” He snapped back, “No, I just-” He cut himself off with a pitiful whine. “He’s been so busy! It’s been at least weeks since we’ve had some personal time together. I’m getting so-”

“I really don’t want to know about your-” Fiona attempted to interrupt.

“Lonely.” Rhys finished lamely. “Agh! He sucks so much, he always does this. I just… are you guys still on Elpis?” He asked hopefully.

“Yes…?”

“You want to hang out?” He asked, in a pleading tone. “We could go to the up over bar. See what kind of fancy cocktails they have there this week.” He added, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Depends.” Fiona replied. “Are you buying?”

“Jack’s buying.” Rhys said with a smirk as he fiddled with the black card that Jack had gifted him a few months back.

The Up Over Bar looked nearly identical to when it had been run by Moxxi. The only difference is that Moxxi wasn’t sitting behind the bar. The cocktails were the same, the atmosphere was the same, every single thing was the same. Rhys loved coming here, it was comforting to him and the cocktails were great. When Rhys arrived at the bar, Fiona and Sasha were sitting there in wait for him at one of the booths. Sasha waved him over and loudly exclaimed his name. Rhys skipped over to them and greeted them with as much enthusiasm as he could manage with how low he felt.

Both of the sisters had a bad habit of, for as long as Rhys had known them and they had been friends with each other, encouraging his worst behaviors. So, when Rhys had gotten a few bottles of the most expensive liquor that Jack’s credit card could buy and suggested that they do shots they had – of course – agreed heartily to it. It didn’t take them long to regret that, because soon enough, Rhys was falling over drunk and dancing on tables with strangers – and even then the two of them kept on encouraging him to make a fool of himself for their own entertainment.

It didn’t take long for Rhys’ behavior to spiral out into something that they couldn’t do much damage control over – and soon enough the three of them were thrown out of the bar for the night. Rhys flipped off the guard as he was escorted outside and giggled at the brawny looking man when he shook his head at Rhys. Then he turned to Fiona, “You guys want to do some shopping?” He asked and then, eyeing their clothes. “I can get you guys something new to wear.” He added, “Looks like you need it.”

“God, just shut up, Rhys.” Sasha said.

Fiona just rolled her eyes, “Why don’t we get something to eat.” She suggested, looking at the way that sloppy Rhys was carrying himself with a lot of judgment. “Especially you.” She added, equally judgmental.

Rhys sighed and made a big show of rolling his eyes. “Okay, fine.” He said, before he was led along to a little twenty four hour diner in the middle of Concordia. The three of them sat down at the bar, and soon enough Rhys was recognized by a well dressed man donned in hues of yellows and blues – Maliwan colors, he thought. Probably a Maliwan rep. “Hey, I know you!” one of them said, as he slotted himself between Rhys and his friends. It was rude and Fiona commented as much, but she was ignored by them. “You’re Handsome Jack’s… assistant, right?” He guessed.

Rhys nodded even though calling him Jack’s assistant wasn’t completely accurate, and smiled as politely as he could with how drunk he was and ordered a bunch of carb-ladened foods from the bot manning the diner, so that he could have a little of everything. Maliwan guy continued on, laying it on incredibly thick. Rhys smiled at that, remembering fondly the way that Jack kept a hand on Rhys’ hip – holding him close and possessive as he condescended to the other CEO’s and big wigs of the other corporations. Then his mood soured as he thought of how distant he was now.

“God, I can’t imagine what it’s like working for Handsome Jack.” Maliwan Guy commented in a wistful sort of way. “It must be amazing. And terrifying. And amazing!” He was really was laying it on thick.

Rhys rolled his eyes and let out a little scoff, like even the concept of admiring or fearing Jack was entirely ridiculous. “Not really. He’s such a prick.” He said, without even thinking about it.

Maliwan Guy’s eyes narrowed in an almost predatory fashion, like he had been aiming for something like this to happen. “Really?” He said, with a bad imitation of sympathy lacing his voice, “Why would you say that?” He asked.

That didn’t sound good to Sasha and she decided to intervene. “Okay Rhys, I know you’re mad at Jack – I don’t blame you, either, but maybe you should calm down a bit.” Sasha suggested, realizing that this would probably not end well for him if this guy was even half as skeevy as he looked. For all they knew, he could be trying to wrangle Rhys into drinking roofied cocktails or filming blackmail material. Anything was possible, considering his very public status as Handsome Jack’s boyfriend.

Rhys shrugged her off, “N-no! You wanna know about Handsome Jack, I’ll tell ya all about Handsome Jack.” He said, pulling the man – what was his name again? Had Rhys even asked? He could barely remember – closer to him. “I’ll tell ya the whole stoooory jus’- uh, just hear me out.” He promised, putting his hand on the other mans chest in an overly friendly manner for how little he knew the man.

“Great!” Maliwan guy answered, with a smug smile spreading across his face. “I’d love to hear all about it.” He added, in a bad attempt at a comforting tone of voice. It was obviously fake, but Rhys was a little too drunk to think of it as anything other than genuine concern for him.

“Oh god.” Fiona mumbled to herself, while Rhys ranted away at what a terrible, useless, boyfriend Handsome Jack was, not noticing the fact that he was being filmed by Maliwan guy. He wasn’t even trying hard to hide the fact that he was. Sasha put her face in her hands, just as mortified as her sister was. The two of them didn’t let that go on for more than a few minutes before they decided to seriously intervene.

“What. Nooooo, you guys are so booooooring! I wanna have more fun here.” He argued, weakly trying to pull them off of him. Fiona and Sasha shrugged him off like he was nothing, “I wanna drink more, and – and dance and shit.” He added in a simpering tone. “I thought you guys were fun…”

They pointedly ignored any of his argumentations. “I think you’ve had enough tonight.” Sasha said, manhandling him around with little regard for his sense of personal space or boundaries. “Of everything.”

“He’s gonna kill you.” Fiona told him as she and Sasha dragged him back to the shuttle. “You know that, right?”

“Whooooo’s gonna kill me?” He drunkenly asked, lolling his head to the side sleepily. The two sisters gave each other a look and the two of them made the journey back to Rhys’ apartment in almost total silence. Once they finally got there, they deposited him on his bed and sternly told him to drink some water and prepare to deal with the consequences of his stupid, drunken actions.

Rhys was still cognizant – and petty – enough that, once he was alone in the penthouse, he decided to send Jack a few more angry messages.

[To Jack: I hate u ur suck a jerk] [> such!!! ur such a jerk] [> u leftttt me alll alon e aga in]

Then Rhys set up his camera, taking a few photos of him in the lingerie, before he stripped out of it for the night. After he sent the photos, he sent Jack a few more messages.

[To Jack: ths is wat u missed o ut on,,, asshole] [> hav fukkin fun @ werk I gues u fukin dik]

He passed out, with his comm pressed to his face, before he managed to send Jack another incredibly aggressive ‘goodnight.’ message. It was probably for the best that he did.

Jack stood, with blood caking his fingernails as he interrogated the paparazzi scum that was in front of him. The idiot had burst into his office, with a smug expression on his face as he declared that he had some unflattering material on Rhys – and if he didn’t want it to get out to the rest of the world, then he better pay up. It was hilarious, in a pathetic and stupid sort of way. This small time loser trying to extort him – trying to extort Handsome Jack of all people – with a few measly photos and some videos.

Needless to say, Jack had shot him in the leg and tied him to a chair. He decided to take his time with this one – just for managing to get his attention, and pissing him off while he was at it. By the time that Jack was done with him, he was nothing more than gristle and bone – a husk strapped to the chair, still twitching as his dead body rattled. “Rhysie.” Jack breathed into his echo as he took practically hyperventilated from the adrenaline that was rushing through him. He always felt rejuvenated after a kill. “Get up to my office, cupcake. I got a surprise for ya!” He laughed, looking at the dead creep in front of him and then down at his bloody clothes. “It’s a killer.”

It wasn’t like Hyperion – or him – was in any real danger, at least not from that idiot. But it could have been, if Rhys had been unfortunate enough to talk to a slightly more intelligent moron. So Jack decided to call Rhys up for a much needed attitude adjustment. Rhys didn’t notice anything off in his tone and grumbled, “It’s my day off though…” He said and Jack could practically hear him pouting and rolling over in bed, cocooning himself further into the covers as he tried to block out Jack’s demanding tenor.

Jack’s tone turned serious, demanding and domineering – just how Rhys always liked him. “I’m not asking you, princess.” He said, “I’m telling you. Y’know, as your boss.” He reminded him. Rhys grumbled a bit before he hung up. He was at the door in nearly five minutes.

Rhys walked in and looked at the sight in front of him. He made a concerted effort to appear as if he was unperturbed by the sight of the paparazzi – beaten and bloody, tied to a chair. He made himself stand tall and pull a straight face. He knew that he was in trouble and he was more excited for a punishment than he – maybe – should have been. “You wanted to see me, Jack?” He asked, with a bit of attitude on the edge of his tone. He couldn’t help it. The words, “So do you finally have enough time for me now?” lay on the tip of his tongue, unspoken but clear in the tension that sat between them.

Jack snorted and mumbled, “Spoiled little brat.” underneath his breath before he addressed Rhys. “Get over here. I’m not gonna ask you again.” He said in a harsh tone – one that old Rhys that he was in trouble and it would only get worse if he didn’t take his punishment with a smile. He beckoned the younger man forward his hand.

Rhys walked over to him, only slightly nervous about what was gonna happen to him – he was still a little drunk and still feeling petty and bitter towards Jack. He had wanted to punish the older man for neglecting him and it seemed that all he managed to accomplish was getting himself punished. Oh well, Rhys thought, it wasn’t like he had to go and make it easy on Jack.

Jack didn’t say a word – just gave Rhys a vaguely threatening and unimpressed look as Rhys made his way over to stand in front of him. Jack put his hands on Rhys’ shoulders, a gesture that was falsely comforting and gentle. “You wanna know what I did this morning?” He asked. Rhys just glared at him – giving him the silent treatment like he always did whenever Jack upset him. That was fine, seeing as Jack wasn’t expecting an answer anyways. “I had to spend all fucking morning cleaning up your mess.” Then he gestured towards the dead man, “Next time you’re pissed at me, try not to tell the whole fucking galaxy about it.”

Rhys didn’t look impressed with his scare tactics, he understood that – at least when it came to him – Jack was more bark than he was bite. He figured that that was just one of the perks of having the most hated man in the galaxy in love with him – no matter what, no serious harm would ever come to him. At least not from Jack’s hands. “You got anything to say for yourself, princess?” Jack asked him in a mockingly sweet tone of voice.

Rhys huffed softly, before he smiled in a coquettish sort of way. “Did you like the photos I sent you last night?” He asked, sarcasm heavy in his tone. Jack laughed a bit at that, mostly to himself, before he grabbed Rhys by the collar and tore his shirt open – the buttons popping as he did so. Rhys cried out in indignant scorn and outrage, “Hey, that was my favorite shirt!” But Jack wasn’t listening, he was too in the moment, too angry with him. Jack pulled Rhys’ shirt off of his shoulders and bunched it behind his back. Then he grabbed Rhys’ too long tie and used it to tie his arms behind his back.

Rhys let out another indignant noise, but didn’t bother to struggle in the binds – although, he was sure that if he wanted to he could probably get out of them – and within moments, Jack turned him around again and pulled his pants down. It was a miracle that they didn’t tear apart just like his top. His pants pooled at his ankle, nearly tripped him over as Jack dragged him along to his chair.

Jack sat himself down and manhandled Rhys so that he was laying face down in his lap. His hand cracked down across Rhys’ ass hard enough to leave red hand print shaped marks against the doughy flesh. It hurt in a way that made Rhys squirm and whine for more. Jack hit him a few more times before he said anything

After a while, Rhys started becoming desensitized to the painful feeling and he started to enjoy it. He had always been a little bit of a masochist, once he was warmed up and Jack knew that. Still, once he started giggling at the rough treatment that he was receiving, he couldn’t stop. He didn’t even know why he started giggling in the first place. Jack’s fingers dug through his hair and pulled Rhys up so that he was forced to face him, “You think this is funny, Rhysie?” He asked in a dangerous tone. “This all just a joke to you?”

Rhys couldn’t stop giggling, “I mean a little.” He admitted. “Ju-just a little bit.” He added in between breathless, nearly drunk laughter. Jack pulled Rhys off of his lap and bent Rhys over his desk. Rhys let out a few sad whimpers at the loss of skin on skin contact. His face was pushed down against the desk, hard enough to leave raw and red marks against his face.

He heard Jack pulling off his belt, and instinctively snapped his legs shut tight. He bit down on his lower lip and tried to stifle out any more noises. Jack’s hand caressed Rhys’ already flushed bottom before he looped his belt up into a makeshift whip. Rhys could hear the air whipping around as Jack flicked it with his wrist to get himself ready. Rhys let out a broken cry as the leather cracked down across his backside.

“You just love to make me go hard on ya, don’t you Rhysie?” Jack asked in a low and dangerous tone of voice. Rhys didn’t reply, he just shuddered with a mixture of fear and arousal roaming through him. The belt cracked down on his ass again, eliciting another whine out of him. “Hey! I asked you a question.” He added, not giving Rhys a break or a chance to breath as he struck him again and again.

Rhys huffed out breathlessly and moaned like a whore, despite the pain he felt. “Yes, yes, daddy I do. I love giving you trouble daddy.” He smiled, “And I’m not sorry ‘bout it.” He smiled, but it was hidden from the older man as he was face down against the furniture, “Sorry, daddy but I’m not sorry.” He added, turning up the brattiness to overdrive. Jack struck Rhys’ ass and the back of his thighs with his belt over and over again, until Rhys was trembling and tears were pouring down his cheeks.

He still wasn’t sorry. Not even a little bit and Jack didn’t even bother asking if he was before he pulled him up by the hair again, forcing him to walk into the middle of his office and pushed him down on his knees in front of Jack. “Open your mouth.” Jack hissed at him. Rhys’ mouth fell open without him even putting in effort and he stuck his tongue out so that it lay flat against his abused lower lip.

He had loved acting rude and bratty, he always did – but he wanted the older mans’ cock in his mouth and down his throat even more than he wanted to keep acting out. Despite the fact that this was a punishment, Jack gave Rhys everything that he wanted. Jack pulled his cock out from the confines of his pants and let the tip of it sit heavily on Rhys’ tongue while he got himself hard.

Jack’s cock was long and thick, it never failed to stuff his mouth full and leave his jaw aching whenever he got a chance to blow him. And he loved that, loved that it hurt just a little bit when Jack forced his cock down Rhys’ throat – it was like a fun little punishment for himself – a funishment, if you will. So, naturally, Jack kept a hand entwined in his hair – holding him back from doing just that.

This was still supposed to be a punishment. Rhys whined as he was continually denied what he wanted. “Daddy, can I-” He asked, in a pathetic and overly submissive tone of voice, “Please?”

“Please, what?” Jack prompted, holding his cock centimeters from Rhys’ lips. He pushed his hips forward just a bit, so that the tip of his dick was just barely brushing past his lips, before he pushed back out of the younger mans’ reach. He did this a few more times to Rhys. It was incredibly frustrating to him, just as Jack intended.

“Lemme suck you, please…” He pleaded in a voice that was rough and quiet – barely loud enough for Jack to hear him. “It’s all I want, daddy… I need it.” He added, even more desperately.

“Keep being polite like this and I’ll consider it, pumpkin. Come on, Rhysie, say please again.” Jack told him, laughing at how desperate Rhys was and how quick the change was. Rhys glared at him weakly and darted his tongue out, “Just give me one more.” He urged in a less than gentle manner.

“Please, please, daddy let me suck your cock.” Rhys begged, “Please, you asshole.” He added in a sharp tone. Jack decided to let him get away with it, for now at least, and allowed him enough free reign to take the older man’s cock in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the tip briefly, allowing himself to taste him, before he took him in his mouth. He bobbed his head up and down,

He wasn’t allowed the control for much longer than that. Jack grabbed the back of his head again and told him to relax his throat – Rhys did his best to do just that, like he always did – only seconds before he forced Rhys’ head down and pushed his hips forward, so that his cock was practically forced down the younger mans throat. He moaned around the cock in his mouth and closed his eyes as he relaxed his throat, tipping his head back a little so that Jack had an easier time going while he fucked his throat.

Rhys’ hair was a tangled mess and it was getting even worse the older man knotted his fingers in it to hold Rhys’ head firmly in place. Jack thrust in and out of his mouth hard, barely giving Rhys room to breath in between thrusts. The younger man struggled to breath through his nose – every breath that he took felt like it was a reward, the conscious effort that he had to make to keep himself stable was strangely satisfying to him.

This went on for some time – Jack fucking his throat raw, while Rhys whined, moaned and struggled to keep himself afloat. Then Jack pulled out suddenly and Rhys let out a whine of discontent. Jack held Rhys’ head in place, giving him no ability to pull away as he came all over the younger mans’ face. He smiled down at the younger man as Rhys took heaving breaths to calm his heart rate down. He looked up at Jack with big, pleading eyes. “You look so good like that, baby.” He cooed, “Much less bratty.”

Rhys didn’t respond to anything of that, just whimpered quietly. “C’mon.” Jack urged, pulling Rhys to his feet. “We’re going home. I’m not done with you just yet.” He promised, biting at Rhys’ ear as he whispered in the younger mans ear. Rhys was still bound with his arms tied behind his back and half dressed – because Jack had at least been kind enough to pull his pants up, but he didn’t do much else for him – with the older man’s cum dripping down his face. The two of them walked out of his office and into an elevator that was filled with a decent amount of people.

Rhys recognized at least half of them and rounded his shoulders in embarrassment. No one said a damn thing, they pointedly ignored Rhys’ existence – thank god. At least until Jack decided to strike up a conversation with one of the workers that was unfortunate enough to have happened to be standing right by Jack and him, a squirrely looking R&D scientist that Jack insisted on calling Francis. Rhys was almost entirely sure that the guys name wasn’t Francis, but ‘Francis’ didn’t bother to correct Jack – probably because he didn’t want to die at their murderous CEO’s hands.

Jack kept an arm around Rhys, both as a show of ownership and to make him a spectacle. Rhys trained his eyes to the floor, feeling like he was on full display for the entirety of Helios – even if there were only five or six people who saw him like this. “Have you met Rhysie, Francis?” He asked, not waiting for the man to respond when he said, “Of course you have…everybody knows Rhys! He’s everybody’s best friend – doesn’t matter if they’re Hyperion or Maliwan scum.” He turned to Rhys and asked him, in a low voice that sent shivers down the younger mans’ spine, “Isn’t that right, kitten?”

“Yup.” Rhys said quietly, barely audible. He bit down on his lower lip and let their conversation wash over him – the words muddled. He closed his eyes and he intensely felt that everyone’s eyes were on him. It made his skin crawl, in the worst and best sort of way. It was humiliating, in a way that had him trembling and whimpering, while Jack practically ignored his existence in favor of chatting up his subordinates.

Rhys had tears in his eyes by the time that the elevator finally stopped on their floor, and they were on the way back to their penthouse. Jack noticed that he was getting overwhelmed and stopped walking, he gently squeezed Rhys’ shoulder and turned him around so that Jack could look him in the eye while he checked in on his mental state. “Rhys-” He sighed, “look at me, pumpkin.” He scolded and Rhys was quick to obey – his eyes were watery and glassy, “

“I… it’s just so much…” Rhys admitted after a few minutes, his voice was a bit raspy and weak from all the crying, whining and having his throat fucked.

Jack absentmindedly played with Rhys’ already mussed up hair as he spoke, “You wanna dial it back then, baby?” He suggested, as gently as he was capable of.

Rhys shook his head as Jack wiped away his tears. “N-no it’s okay, ‘m okay, I promise. I wanna keep going…” He mumbled out in a voice that was just loud enough for Jack to hear him. “Please.” He added with desperation obvious in his voice. The older man nodded and led him down the hall with one hand squeezing Rhys’ shoulder in a comforting manner and his other squeezing his butt, nudging him onward to take the rest of his punishment.

Once they were back in the penthouse, Jack had demanded that he strip himself down and kneel on the plush and clean carpet. Rhys – having his confidence and bratty attitude restored a little bit by the check in – was only a little difficult about it. He sighed, rolled his eyes and nearly stuck his tongue out at the older man before his knees buckled without his permission and he did exactly as he was asked.

Jack stood back and watched as Rhys got into position and once Rhys was kneeling, naked on his floor Then he made him sit and wait until Jack decided to walk over to him, and grab his chin so that he was forced to look up at Jack. “Have you learned your lesson yet?” He asked in a tone that was genuine and honest. Rhys didn’t respond just yet. Jack followed that up with, “Are you gonna be a good boy now, Rhysie?” His fingers tracing Rhys’ plump bottom lip with thumb in an idle manner.

Rhys pretended to think about it and a coy smile spread across his face. “No, daddy, I don’t think I’ve learned my lesson just yet.” He said, playfully shaking his head from side to side. “And I don’t think I will be, no.” He added, before making an attempt to stifle his giggles, before he steeled himself and said, in a tone that was practically gift wrapped as bait, “Make me.”

It was more than enough to spring Jack into action. He pounced on Rhys, throwing him down on the ground. The action made Rhys breathlessly whine at the powerlessness that he felt right then. Jack’s hands wrapped around his throat, restricting his airflow until Rhys was kicking his legs out and making desperate, fearful little noises. Tears flowed from his eyes freely and he was suddenly all too aware of the older man’s erection against his hip.

Jack loosened up his grip on the younger man’s throat. Rhys took in a few greedy breaths. “Let’s try this one more time…” He purred in a low and sweet sounding voice. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” He asked, although he was sure that he already knew what he was going to say.

Rhys hesitated for just a moment before he gave him a mischievous sort of look and then repeated himself, “Make me.” He said, desperation lacing his voice. It sounded, to Jack at least, like he was asking for help instead of what he had said. Jack was happy to help him out. For now, at least.

“Mm-kay… if that’s what you want.” Jack cooed and then pressed rough, biting kisses down his chest and stomach. Rhys squirmed just a little bit, but ultimately didn’t fight him.

“What are you…” Rhys trailed off and let out a moan as Jack stroked his cock gently. “I thought you were gonna-” He was cut off by Jack gently shushing him. His brow furrowed in confusion, but everything that Jack did to him was so soothing and relaxing to him that he didn’t argue.

“Relax, princess…” The older man cooed, voice barely above a whisper. He smiled and pressed his lips against the shaft of Rhys’ plump, hard cock. His tongue darted out, sliding up and down over his shaft. Rhys let out a pleasant sigh, he hadn’t been expecting this, and spread his legs a little. Jack sucked him off with incredible gentleness. He pressed feather light kisses all over the base and shaft of his cock and stroked him low and slow. Even still, it didn’t take long to wind Rhys up.

“Daddy, I’m…” Rhys whined in a high, breathy voice as he bucked his hips and squirmed around as much as the older man allowed him to. “Oh fuck, oh god, please… please, please, please.”

The older man chuckled, the vibrations of his throat nearly tipping Rhys over the edge. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” Jack hummed as the younger man squirmed and bucked into his hands and lips.

“Yeah,” Rhys replied, breathlessly. “Yeah I think I’m gonna- fuck, Ja- I mean…can I, please?” He practically begged, hoping to be as polite and sweet as possible, just so he could get everything that he wanted from the older man. “Daddy, please?”

Then Jack stopped, seconds before Rhys would have cum. “Mm, nah.” He said. Rhys opened his mouth to curse at him, but it turned into a whine as Jack pinched and pulled at Rhys’ cock and balls, scratching painfully over his shaft. Rhys cried out in misery as his erection diminished and the heat in his gut felt like it was curdling, turning his stomach.

“Daddy, you’re so mean…” He whined as Jack pushed him down the ground with a rough, bruising grip.

“Shut up. You love it when I’m mean.” The older man replied, cruelly gleeful at his partner’s expense. He gave Rhys one more kiss before he pulled out a small, clear cock cage with a bright gold lock at the base of it. Rhys’ eyes widened just a bit and he trembled nervously as he realized that he probably wasn’t gonna cum tonight. Bummer, he thought, but maybe he deserved that much.

Jack hesitated for just a moment – giving him a short window to use his safe word. Rhys took a breath and nodded at him, as if to say, “It’s okay, keep going.” without saying so much as a word. He secured it on him within seconds. Then Jack pulled him to his feet.

The two of them walked over to a portion of the room, in front of one of the windows. There was a hook that was attached to the ceiling above them. Rhys looked at it with interest, but didn’t say anything. “You gonna be a good boy now?” Jack asked, staring Rhys down hard.

Rhys looked down at his currently useless cock and pretended to be upset. “I guess I have to now, don’t I?” He practically fluttered his eyelashes at Jack, flirtatiously. “If I want to get this off of me… I have to be good.” He even had the audacity to pout and look at Jack with pleading eyes.

“That’s riiiiight.” Jack flicked his nose condescendingly and then, tapped idly at the younger mans’ locked up dick in a cruel gesture of having power over the usually so defiant younger man. “You’re helpless, baby. You gotta do whatever I want, if you ever want to come again.” Just like Rhys wanted to be, was left unsaid.“Now, gimme your hands.” Rhys did as he was told and Jack pressed them together, holding them in place as he tied them together tightly in front of his chest with a thick, brightly colored length of rope. Jack attached his wrist to the ceiling hook.

“What are you gonna do to me now?” Rhys asked, only a little fearful.

“What-ev-er I want.” Jack reminded him in a cheeky tone of vocie. Rhys felt his knees get weak, like they were made of jelly, and he nodded weakly. A thick blindfold was slipped over his eyes and he suddenly felt completely helpless. Jack pet his thigh in a soothing manner for just a moment and he relaxed, trusting the older man to be good to him.

Jack stopped petting him after a moment, He let out a gasp of surprise as the hook ascended towards the ceiling, stretching his limbs out far more than was comfortable. Even with as tall as Rhys was, he could barely stand on his tiptoes. He couldn’t move much, he couldn’t see anything. Everything felt so much more intense like this. He heard a bottle open, and in moments he felt something cool drip between his ass cheeks and a bit down the back of his thighs.

He let out a soft gasp at the sensation and unconsciously recoiled from it. The gasp quickly turned into a whine as he felt Jack’s thick fingers nudge against his entrance, stroking the rim of the younger mans’ hole until he relaxed and let him in. He subjected Rhys to an incredibly brisk, somewhat rough fingering. It didn’t take long for Rhys to start deriving pleasure from it, and he was rocking back on his partner’s fingers in no time. Jack used both hands to slap down on each of his cheeks, spanking him until his ass was cherry red and tears were falling down Rhys’ face.

Jack grabbed him and pushed him down, so that he was forced to arch his back, before he slowly forced his cock in Rhys’ well stretched hole. He didn’t give him much time to adjust at all, and fucked Rhys with little care. “Ah, you feel so big. Too big…s-so good.” Rhys whined, squirming as Jack thrust in and out of him, digging his nails into Rhys’ hips – hard enough to bruise as he fucked him. He felt like a sex toy, in the best sort of way. In that moment, it was like he was just some pretty doll that hung from the ceiling and his only purpose was for Jack to come in and stuff him with his cock.

Jack responded by slapping his ass, “Keep your mouth shut or I’ll leave you here all night.” He snapped in a low, nearly animalistic growl. Rhys let his head fall forward, his chin pressed against his chest as Jack took everything that he wanted from him.

Rhys let out a whine and bit down on his lower lip to stifle any more noises or words that might come out of him. He set his jaw tight and only allowed a few soft whimpers to escape from his lips, while Jack thrust in and out of him, pistoning his hips against Rhys’ hard and fast. It was overwhelming, he hit his prostate almost constantly and every time that Rhys’ cock started to stiffen, it would be crushed down by the cage around his cock – which hurt. A lot.

It felt like he was being used – in suspended animation – for years and years, constantly. Then Jack came inside of him, flooding his insides with his cum. He pulled out after a moment and slapped his thigh. Jack watched with interest as his cum dripped out of the younger mans’ hole. Rhys looked filthy and he told him as much. “Aw, kitten! You look so cute when you’re not mouthing off.”

Rhys whimpered and squeezed his thighs together tight. He was trembling and shaking – overwhelmed and exhausted by everything that they had done together. He wanted nothing more than for Jack to hold him and tell him that he did well, that everything was going to be okay. “Daaaaddy…I need you.” Rhys whined out in a sleepy sounding mumble. Rhys let out a soft sob, worried – in the strange head space that he was in – that he had done something wrong and Jack would leave him here alone all night like he had threatened. “D-daddy please.” He hiccuped, shaking like a leaf.

Jack circled him, checking for any damage beyond superficial marks and bruises. Once he was sure that he was completely fine, he undid all of the restraints that he was tied in, unlocked the cock cage and then picked the younger man up. He scooped him into his arms and held him securely. Rhys whimpered and mumbled soft, fearful statements while Jack shushed him.

Jack pressed kisses to his hair while the younger man reached out to him for comfort and security, like he was the only person in the universe who could make him feel safe. Jack gladly offered that security to him with open arms and kind words. Rhys hung onto Jack like he was a koala bear, it made Jack smile. He got so damn clingy after a scene or a punishment. “I know, baby, I know…” Jack crooned in his ear, soothing down Rhys’ sweat slick hair. He carried Rhys to their bathroom and sat him down in the large tub. “Just, relax, sweetheart and let daddy take care of you.”

Rhys’ head lolled to the side in a sleepy manner as comfortably warm water filled the tub. Jack filled it up with bubble bath and a bath bomb, so that it was extra soothing to the younger man. “I’ll be right back in a minute.” He said, tweaking his nose playfully. Rhys just nodded dumbly, too fucked out to do much more than enjoy the comforting feeling of the warm water lapping around his sore body.

Jack came back with a bottle of cold water with a straw poking out through the top of it. He sat it down on the edge before he stripped himself entirely naked and got in the tub with him. Rhys crawled forward on his hands and knees and curled himself up in the older man’s arms. He sipped the water quietly, as Jack pet him and tell him what a good boy he was and how well he had taken his punishments. Rhys drank in the praise greedily, holding onto Jack and mumbling sweetly spoken affirmations back to the older man. The two of them took to gently washing each other – smiling, laughing and kissing each other the whole time.

Once they were sufficiently clean and relaxed, Jack pulled the two of them out of the bath. Gently maneuvering Rhys to his feet so that the younger man could towel himself off. Neither of them bothered to dress themselves again – why would they? – before they slowly walked back to their bedroom. They laid down, ready for sleep, cuddled up close against each other.

“You’re a good boy, Rhysie.” Jack told him one more time, “Even if you’re too much of a brat most of the time.” He added in a teasing manner.

Rhys gave him a pleased, dopey sort of grin. “You’re a good boy too…” He replied, in a tone that seemed strangely genuine. Jack couldn’t help but laugh at that – if only because it was something that Rhys would have said at any other time to get a rise out of him.

“Yeah?” Jack challenged, raising a brow at the younger man curled up against his side. He wrapped an arm around him and he arched closer to him.

“Yeah.” Rhys affirmed and then nuzzled against Jack’s chest in a fashion that was not unlike a kitten gentle headbutting against someone for affection. Jack smiled, he thought that it was cute when Rhys got like this. He could be so endearing when he wasn’t trying to get a rise out of the older man but he could be just as endearing when he was trying to get a rise out of him too. “You’re so good to me.” He frowned as he suddenly recalled what started all of this. “’M sorry, for t-talking to that guy at the club.” He mumbled, tired enough to let himself be honest with Jack. “I didn’t mean to put you… er, or Hyperion in danger.” He admitted. “I was just… I was so lonely! I missed you so much-”

Jack cut him off with a few possessive kisses. “No harm done baby,” He said, “This time. Just, ah, don’t do it again. Alright?” Rhys didn’t respond, as by the time that he finished speaking he had passed out in his arms. Jack scoffed and gently disentangled their limbs. He gave Rhys a kiss on the top of his head and wrapped him up in the soft, warm blankets before he walked off to make some arrangements.

They were no strangers to Rhys acting out – usually in little, inconsequential ways so that he could get a punishment. Rhys liked the pain and the humiliations, Jack liked doling it out to him and putting him in his place. Their dynamic worked specifically because they were uniquely suited to each other – it was a symbiotic relationship that they had.

But he felt – and Rhys felt, if his angry misbehavior was any tell – that he had been neglecting him as of late. It wasn’t entirely his fault, running Hyperion kept him busy as hell, but it was obvious that it had taken a toll on the younger man. Rhys was always desperate for his attention and getting less of it had kept him on edge. So, he decided to set that right as soon as possible.

He called up Timothy first and told him that he was in luck – he would have the extra comfy gig of sitting in his office, pretending to be him on Helios, if only because he was the doppelganger that he trusted the most. Even if Timothy proclaimed to hate him, he was understandably loyal to the man that he shared a face with. He’d had to pull the comm of his ear when Timothy started excitedly exclaiming his glee about that. Then he called up Blake – demanding that the VP make arrangements for a short stay at one of his vacation homes – the one that was on Promethea. He was sure that Rhys would love staying there, it was serene and quiet, but close enough to the city that they could have a good time whenever they wanted to brave the paparazzi.

Looking at how laid up Rhys was, he was sure that by the time that he woke up again – they would be on their way there. He was sure that he would be in for a hell of a surprise when he finally woke. But He was also sure that the younger man would be delighted with everything that he had planned for him – even if he pouted and rolled his eyes, protesting too much to the contrary. He couldn’t wait to give his kitten the best attitude adjustment of his life.

[chiefnooniensingh]

I Won’t Hesitate (for you)

Chapter 2: Oh, take me back (to the night we met)

In this chapter: We got back to the day Alex met Michael. In the present day, Alex meets a certain doctor, a kind young woman named Beth and her father, and the lovely DeLuca duo. Alex tries to talk to Michael. 

A/N: A special thanks to Aileen (@acomebackstory), Callie (@callieramics), @hm-arn, @royalshadowhunter and @ladymajavader over on Tumblr for their continued support and cheerleading. I don't know if I would've finished it without you guys!

Who can guess the song that inspired this chapter?

Also on: ao3

other chapters: 1

September, 1923

Alex was barely 15, hiding so deep in the closet it was a wonder anyone could see him at all and as miserable as he could possibly imagine being, when Michael Guerin walked into his life. He was living in a narrow-minded small town under the tyranny of his father and absolutely horrendous three older brothers. His mother had left years ago, having finally had enough of Jesse Manes’ behaviour, and had not taken Alex with her. Even now, years later, when he was hiding everything about himself in all-black clothes and music, her decision not to save him too still hurt worse than anything his father did to him.

The small town was still talking about the gruesome murder of eleven-year-old Rosa Ortecho, which, even three years later, had not been solved. The remaining members of the Ortecho family had recently moved out of state, no longer able to stand the memories that dwelt there. Michael Guerin arrived not long after, an orphan having run away from his latest foster home after his two siblings were adopted and he wasn’t. He lived on the ranch just outside the town, helping Mr Foster raise and care for the horses in exchange for a bed and food. The town gossip was buzzing for two weeks after Michael arrived, as the boy in the skin-tight trousers and wild curls, on top of which perpetually rested a black cowboy hat, stood out, and outsiders were generally mistrusted. Add to that the anger problem Michael seemed to have, and soon enough everyone knew his name, background and how many times Sheriff Green had kept him in jail overnight.

“You are not to associate with this boy, Alex,” Master Sergeant Manes said one night at dinner. “He’s bad news and will bring shame to our family.”

Alex, exhausted from yet another day of pretending to be someone he wasn’t, hadn’t been able to stop the words spilling from his mouth, “And God forbid anyone speaks ill of our picture-perfect family.”

The next day he’d had difficulty sitting and had therefore stayed on his feet during lunch at school. He was always an outsider. ‘The freak who eats standing upright’ was hardly the worst thing people said about him. He stood underneath a tree, wincing every time he shifted his weight and bit into his apple when a figure appeared in front of him. “Hey.” It was Michael, looking at him with a frown on his face. Alex remembered the words his father had spoken, and the lesson he’d tried to teach Alex afterwards, and he smiled.

“Hey.”

“You’re standing on my spot.” Alex’s smile vanished, and his heart sank. He’d hoped this other outsider would be at least civil, but apparently the town gossip had the right of it, for once. “This is usually where I come to smoke during break.”

“Sorry,” Alex muttered, tossing his apple into his bag and moving to leave. “Wouldn’t want to cut into your extremely busy schedule.” He started to move, wincing with every step he took.

“Hey, you alright?” Michael called after him, and when Alex turned, he saw a look of worry on his face.

Alex nodded, the lie coming from his mouth with practiced ease. “Yeah, I fell from my horse yesterday. I’m not that skilled a rider.”

Michael narrowed his eyes for a moment, and Alex had the weird sensation that he could see right through him. Then he started pushing up the sleeve on his right arm. Alex stepped closer as Michael held out his forearm. “Last foster family thought I was possessed. Apparently, having trust and anger issues is ‘the devil’s influence’.” Alex gasped as he saw the very clear outline of a cross burned into Michael’s skin. Horrified, he looked up to see Michael wearing a painful grimace, which Alex was sure was supposed to be a confident smile. “And people ask why I ran away.”

“Jesus, I’m so sorry,” Alex said, his eyes drawn once again to the cross. He shivered as he tried in vain not to imagine the pain Michael had been through. Michael pulled his sleeve back over it.

“It’s alright,” he said, then paused and scoffed. “It’s not,” he continued, “but I’ll survive.”

Alex looked up at the other boy and saw for the first time a genuine smile on his face. Alex felt himself relax slightly. “My father thinks violence teaches the best lessons,” he admitted softly, before he could stop himself. He realized immediately this was the first time he’d ever said it out loud. “I talked back to him last night. You don’t want to see my backside.”

Michael clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Alex nodded, the held out his hand. “I’m Alex. Alex Manes.”

Michael looked at Alex’s hand for a moment, as if surprised anyone wanted to touch him. Then he took it, and a shock went through Alex’s system as if Michael was filled with electricity. “Michael Guerin. Nice to meet you, Alex.”

Present day, 19th of October, 1935

A lot can be said against travelling by train, but the food wasn’t one of them. Alex felt like he was travelling on a cruiseship, he had never lived in such luxury. Airmen didn’t really earn much, and while his income had seen a definite uptick since becoming a PI, he had never thought of treating himself like this.

He’d absolutely gorged himself on as much as he could at the lunch buffet two hours into the journey, and now had loaded his plate with pastas, salads and a very nice rare steak for his dinner. He sat down at the far end of the dining carriage and sat back, slowly working his way through his food as he watched the other travellers. Isobel and Noah Bracken were sitting at the other end, with Noah immersed in a newspaper looking vaguely angry and Isobel gazing out the window, sipping a fancy cocktail and looking supremely bored. The other patrons he recognized from the station. At the table next to him, the mother and daughter were sitting. The mother looked better than she had on the platform. Alex had more time to take them in now, automatically committing their faces to memory. They were identical in several ways; both had dark skin tones, black hair that curled heavily and an identical smile. They differed in other ways, the daughter was a little softer in her cheekbones, whilst her mother was a foot taller than her. The older woman said something, and her daughter giggled. They seemed to really enjoy their trip. The young doctor Alex had almost tripped over on the station in Istanbul walked past him holding a glass of red wine, nodding politely. Alex inclined his head in response.

A table further back seated an older Latino gentleman with a younger woman, probably (and hopefully) his daughter. The man was talking loudly. “This pasta is de madre! It is too dry, too little sauce! I would like to see the chef sometime during this trip!” His daughter nodded her head indulgently, taking a bite from her own pasta and seeming to enjoy it, despite what her father said.

“Excuse me.” Alex looked up to see the doctor in front of him. He was a handsome man, tall, with black hair and dark eyes. He had shed the white coat. “You’re the man whom I almost tripped, right? The detective?” He was holding two glasses of wine, one of which he set down on the table.

His reputation was spreading. That’s…great. Alex smiled despite it. “I am. Alex Manes, at your service.”

“Kyle. At yours.” They shook hands. “May I sit? Can I offer you a glass of wine?” At Alex’s nod, Kyle took the seat across from him and pushed the glass towards him. Alex sipped it carefully; it was nice and fruity. “Where are you travelling to?”

“I’m going back to America; I have a new case waiting for me there.”

Kyle’s eyes began to glimmer. “I keep up with all your cases in the newspaper. The 1933 Montreal murder? Amazing solve.” Alex smiled indulgently. “I read that when I was procrastinating studying for my final exams. It was a great distraction.”

“You’re…welcome?” Kyle chuckled and took a sip of his own wine. “What is your final destination?”

A smile stretched on Kyle’s face. “There’s a job waiting for me in Paris. I helped out an old friend from medical school in Istanbul, and now I’m packing up my life and moving across the pond indefinitely.”

“Your first job?”

“Yeah, my first real appointment as a doctor.” Kyle looked extremely proud of himself. “I’ve been mostly helping out friends and family, but my work in Istanbul caught the attention of a top surgeon in Paris. He recommended me for the job.”

Alex inclined his head. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

They continued to talk over dinner and wine, discussing new developments in medicine and Alex walked him through one of his minor cases, Kyle listening in awe. When Alex finished the last of his food, Kyle took a final sip of wine and rose. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you, Mr Manes. I hope to see you around?”

“Of that I have no doubt.”

Kyle walked away, exiting the dining carriage. Alex finished his wine in silence after that, watching the other guests finish their food and return to their respective cabins. Alex was the last to remain behind, finishing his wine at his own leisure.

The door opened just as Alex took the last sip. He looked up and nearly snorted the wine up through his nose. Michael had walked in, looking absolutely gorgeous in his conductor’s uniform.

Alex had been unable to focus on anything much throughout the day, his mind filled with memories of his first meeting with Michael and the year that followed. He’d mostly stayed in his cabin, trying to figure out what to do about this situation. The memory of Michael in that uniform did not help. Seeing him in it again made the situation worse.

Gathering his wits, he rose as Michael started clearing out the dishes. “Michael,” he said, and a glass smashed to the floor. It ringed in the silence that followed, as Michael kept his back to Alex and Alex stared at him with pain in his heart.

“Can I help you, sir?” Michael said, the icy tone sending shivers down Alex’s back.

“Please, talk to me, Guerin. It’s been so long.”

Michael spun around, his hands clutching a wineglass with lipstick on the edge. “Talk about what, exactly, Alex? About how I said I loved you and you left without saying goodbye? About how you nearly died in Nicaragua and I had to hear about it from your brother? About how you never wrote to me once? What do you want to talk about?”

Alex’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His heart was aching, because he knew Michael was right and there was nothing Alex could do to fix it. “Michael, I – ”

Michael scoffed. “Yeah, I thought so. Have a good day, Mr Manes.” He jerked back around and continued to clean up, making it clear that this conversation was over.

Alex ached to reach out and touch him, but Michael had made his feelings very clear. It was no use.

He’d lost Michael forever.

He quickly left the dining carriage, before the emotions completely overcame in. As he was still wiping his eyes, he ran into the daughter of the man complaining about the food. “Oh, my apologies, miss, I’m not watching where I’m going.”

The woman looked up at him, and her brow furrowed in concern. “Are you alright, sir?”

Alex swallowed the lump in his throat and put on a smile. No lady should ever have to see him cry. It was bad enough that Michael probably heard him sniffle as he left the carriage. “I’m perfectly alright, miss. Are you enjoying your trip?”

Her face lit up. “Oh yes! I’ve never been on such a luxurious journey, but my father has recently opened a restaurant in Paris and it’s doing so well we had money to go on holiday.” She held out her hand. “I’m Beth.”

“Alex Manes,” he said, bending down to brush his lips to her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. So your father is a chef?” Beth nodded. “That explains the criticism.”

She laughed out loud, brushing her long black hair away from her face. “Yeah, any food he hasn’t cooked he thinks is terrible. I told the staff not to pay attention.”

“Beth! Mija, where have you gone off to?” Beth rolled her eyes as her father appeared from the second closest cabin.

“This is why I took a separate cabin,” she confided in him in a low voice. Alex smiled at them both. “Papi, this is Alex Manes.”

Her father approached him, looking him up and down. Alex couldn’t shake the feeling he was being checked out for suitability as a son-in-law. He was unsure how he was going to explain to this man that Beth, while beautiful, was not his type. But the man just held out his hand. “My name is Arthur Otto. Manes? Are you that detective? The Montreal Murder?”

Did everyone on this train know who he was? He had never been recognized this much before. “I am he,” Alex confirmed.

“It’s good that there are good men like you doing the work the police can’t do. Thank you, Mr Manes.” Arthur slapped Alex’s shoulder as he shook his hand firmly. Alex felt his face grow hot. He was unused to this kind of attention. “Are you coming, Beth? I want to play one more game of cards before we go to bed.”

“Yes, papi.” She smiled up at Alex, her kind eyes sparkling. “Good to meet you, Mr Manes.”

“Likewise.” Father and daughter disappeared inside one of the cabins, and Alex continued to his own. He was exhausted and just wanted to sleep so this journey would be over quicker. Whatever enjoyment he’d gotten out of this fancy train had gone with Michael’s less than cold demeaner. The sooner they were in Paris the better.

“Mr Manes!” Son of a bitch. Dr Kyle was waving at him from the other side of the carriage. “Mr Manes, come meet the loveliest passengers on this train. The beautiful Mimi DeLuca, and her equally charming daughter Maria.” Sighing, but resigning himself to even more social interaction, Alex made his way to the cabin at the end. Maria and Mrs DeLuca were indeed charming, introducing themselves to him with warm smiles and offering him a glass of bourbon, which he gladly accepted. The ladies and Kyle were excellent company, and for a while, Alex forgot his exhaustion and his romantic troubles as the four of them played cards, talked and drank a little too much bourbon.

It was past midnight when Kyle and Alex left the ladies’ cabin and went into their separate cabins after wishing each other a good night.

Alex felt quite buzzed. That and his damned knee combined to a very clumsy way to his bed, but when he finally lay back, he sighed deeply. He was glad to have spent the evening in such excellent company. Even though it had mentally exhausted him, he felt infinitely better as well. Michael was still there, in the back of his mind, but the alcohol had drowned him out as much as possible.

Michael.

Alex turned onto his side and felt himself drifting off to a place where the last ten years never happened. Where he could freely wrap his arms around Michael’s strong frame, inhale his scent and kiss him without an ache in his heart. He dreamt of a better place.

He woke up to a scream.

“NOOOO!! HE’S DEAD! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!! HE’S BEEN KILLED, MY HUSBAND IS DEAD!!”

[bisexualterror]

i was challegened by @queen-of-salt-and-fury to finish the entirety of the 🌼🌿botanical asks🌻🌙 thanks for the tag babe!!😘

jasmine; what mythical creature do you wish actually existed?

mmm,  i gotta go with dragons 😆

lavender; soundcloud or vinyls?

vinyls for sure

primrose; what book does everyone right now need to read?

hmm, i don’t know, i read more fanfiction than i do books

lunar mist; do you like wearing other people’s shirts/jackets?

yeah, but i don’t do it very often

bird of paradise; what was the best thing that happened to you this month?

i updated my fanfic not too long ago and my reader's comments were really so sweet

gardenia; what’s a promise you’ve recently made to yourself?

to stop being so hard on myself 

lion’s fairytale; would you rather be the sky, the ocean or the forests?

 i’m curious about the ocean and what secrets it hides so probably the ocean

whirling butterflies; would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

i was so young i don’t even remember who it was beside the fact it was probably a childhood friend and definitely a girl. so.. no i probably wouldn’t

marmalade skies; do you plan your outfits?

depends on how early i have to wake up on that day and where i’m going. otherwise? nope.

apricot drift; how do you feel right now?

excited

everlasting daisy; what’s the last dream you remember having?

uhm i was living in an underground, scientist lab that kinda looked like my basement but bigger. first i was studying a space parasite and then the next i knew i about to bang Ares from Xena but then i got distracted by daenerys running past us, chasing after baby viserion. my alarm woke me up before it got better.

queen’s cup; what are you craving right now?

rasberry chocolate

lavender dream; turn ons/offs?

same here, intelligence is a big turn on. my turn off would probably be just anyone who is a dick.

water lilly; when was the last time you cried? why?

mm i was probably last month, it was either about dany or another character because i rarely cry about anything else these days 😅

lily of the valley; did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize?

mm, not really. it didn’t come off as an apology to me, more like an excuse.

winterberry; do you bite or lick your ice cream?

lick

honey perfume; favorite movie ever?

mmm, that’s a hard one, oof. uhm, i guess i’d say the princess bride

desert rose; do you like yourself?

eeeh depends on the day, but i’m trying to be better

snapdragon; have you ever met or seen in person a celebrity?

sjskksk i don’t go out in the world, so no

night owl; how many countries have you visited?

i have sadly only seen america and not even that much of my own country

heliotrope; have you ever been in a castle?

nope never. hmu if you own a castle and want me to haunt it tho

creams and sky; what’s the craziest/bravest thing you’ve done?

i’m a coward. no joke. does helping my mom get her life a little bit better count a brave thing?? 

lantana; what’s on your mind right now?

the list of things i should be doing. spoiler: i am not doing them today.

pumpkin patch; what’s your zodiac sign?

capricorn bby

tulip; name 5 facts about yourself 

i have visual snow 

i’m obsessed with cinnamon

my hands are always freezing cold

i love baking

daphne; do you believe in karma?

yeh, kind of

queen of the meadow; ever been in love?

i have confessed my love to many people before, but i don’t think i really was in love with them if only because of how young i was was

wisteria; whom do you admire and why?

i agree that i do admire celebrities who use their fame to help others. 

angel’s face; what was your favorite bedtime story as a child?

i don’t remember anyone read me a bedtime story, but if someone did, it was probably also a bible story

remember me; did you make someone laugh today?

yes. my mom and a friend.

iris; do you believe in ghosts?

sometimes i think it’s bullshit, other times i’m like 👀👀

lilac; if you could go back in time which time period would you visit? 

lol, as a black woman, this question is always so hard because - racism and sexism. i guess i’d go with 1920′s 

caramel kisses; would you want to live forever? why/why not?

yeah, i’m down. i wanna go live on a different planet one day, or at least visit one. and who the fuck knows what kind of crazy shit we humans will have invented by then. and the humor? god our humor is weird and hard to explain now, imagine what it’s gonna be like in a 100 years now. 

primula; what makes you sad?

now we don’t have time to unpack all of that. off the top of my head though, it’s sad that so many people choose to be cruel instead of kind and half of those cruel people are in power over entire countries.

rain lily; was today typical? why/why not?

yeah. i just stayed home. took care of my mom. wrote some.

queen anne’s lace; who do you trust the most?

oof..no one. i know it’s pathetic but,,, i don’t have friends in real life right now and i have a complicated relationship with my family. so no one really.

lady’s slipper; what did you have for breakfast today?

cereal and toast with strawberry jam

forget me not; do you have any regrets looking back in your life?

a lot. i wish i had focused more on bettering my life than distracting myself. i also wish i had been a nicer kid online and hadn’t isolated myself from childhood friends who kept trying to be my friend. trying to make up for it now.

lunaria; what’s your favorite fictional universe?

it’s between harry potter or doctor who

violet; favorite tv show?

im obsessing over the witcher and the mandalorian right now, it’s my raging daddy issues coming into play 

sunflower; share a favorite quote

“I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” ― Sarah Williams

snowdrop; what does your ideal day look like?

waking up. reading. showering. eating. taking care of my mom. writing. going for walks.

tiger lily; do you have any hobbies?

painting, writing, drawing

peony; share a small random book passage that means something to you

“I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.” ― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

rose; what’s something you always wanted to do but were too scared?

get a tattoo

honeysuckle; do you usually date people your age or older/younger?

FUN FACT: i have never dated anyone ever. unless you count that one time i had an online boyfriend.

sweet pea; who means the world to you? why?

my online longest online friend, she was the first person i came out to and even tho we don’t talk much anymore i love her and tell her pretty much everything

love in the mist; best books you’ve ever read?

i cannot choose?? how do you choose??

foxglove; who is your favorite cartoon character?

it’s between batman and lisa simpson

magnolia; coffee or tea?

both, but i drink coffee more

crown imperial; would you rather be extremely rich or extremely loved?

on one hand, i need more money, on the other hand i’m an attention whore...hmmmm i gotta go with loved

snowflake; are you a dog or a cat person?

cats

bell flower; what is your biggest addiction?

reading fanfic and creating ocs for every fandom i’m in

cosmos; do you ever think about the galaxy?

fuck yeah!

moonflower; what’s your favorite color?

green or purple. or gold. or red. but mainly purple.

freesia; do you have a good relationship with your parents and siblings? why/why not?

not really. my dad lives barely an hour away from me but i haven’t seen him in years and only hear from him maybe two times a month. enough said.

my mom and i are better than we were before but i’m bisexual and still in the closet and everyone in my family is very homophobic and set in their Ways, so that could change. 

both of my siblings are half-siblings. my older sister i haven’t seen in since we were kids or talked to her in years and while i could continue to blame that on our family...she’s older than me and has a car.  i’m closer to my brother because we live together he’s almost ten years older than me so we’re not super close

sundrop; are you a morning or a night person?

night person

poppy; have you ever dealt with a mental illness?

yes. my mom.

clover; how would your friends describe you?

idk, clingy?? sksksk probably sweet.

dandelion; do you consider yourself and extrovert or an introvert?

introvert

lilly; what’s something you love watching/reading but you are too embarrassed to admit you do?

fanfic. the thing is, even if i’m embarrassed i’ll probably randomly tell you anyway 

anemone; describe yourself in 3 words

tired

horny

smiley

lotus; best memory as a child?

pretending to be a naruto style ninja with my brother

angelonia; what is your eye and hair color?

brown eyes. black hair.

dahlia; do you like crystals?

yesss

 buttercup; if you could change one thing in the world, what would it be?

but.. but i have so many. i know it sounds cliche, but world hunger.

baby’s breath; what’s your hogwarts house?

i can’t remember the first house i got, but all i remember is getting so upset with my result that i ended up retaking it just so i can be in slytherin. 

calendula; biggest pet peeve?

people who talk over me, or people who are just so set in their ways that they’re unwilling to listen to reason

blanker flower; would you rather go to a cocktail party with your best friends or stay home and read a book/watch a movie with your pet?

i’d prefer the second one, but what about a third option, i could invite some friends over to watch a movie and we could drink together while cuddling with pets

blazing star; share a secret

i had bad habit of pretending to be someone i’m not so that people will like me and so sometimes i worry that i’m still doing it and i’m just a fake person who doesn’t have their own opinion

carnation; would you rather live longer or happier?

happier

petunia; who’s story is your biggest inspiration in life? 

a long list of fictional characters

bluebell; do you wear glasses?

yes. yes i do.

nymphea; forest or river?

forest

orchid; do you like exercise?

nope, which is why i’m overweight lmao

pansy; do you like poetry?

yeah!

morning glory; any special talent that you have?

i can pick up things with my toes sksksk uhm that was true but i guess i’m good at making people smile(✿◕‿◕✿)

i tag @mutantsandproud and anyone else who wants to join!!

[probablymango]

Dungeons and Arcana

Chapter 1: New Game

Lucio rubbed his face, trying hard not to glare at the others at the table with him. “Explain to me again, what is it you want to do?”

Asra smiles, setting down his glass. “We want to bring two more people into the game with us.”

“I got that. Who are they, do I know them, what are their experience, and do I need to start a new campaign?” He hated getting new players. Not that he wants to keep others from playing, but it meant having to learn them, figure out how they play characters, see what they could and couldn’t deal with, merging them into pre-existing campaigns was a bitch.

Julian raises his hand a bit. “My sister, she’s got a bit of experience from playing with me.”

Lucio nods, then looks at the other two.

“Our roommate, Muriel. You’ve probably met him before, or well, at least seen him.” Mordenkainen answered, making vaguely descriptive hand gestures. “Tall guy, beefy, wears a hoodie all the time, and has the big service dog. Ring any bells?”

It did, mostly because the guy was like a huge brick wall, but he wasn’t very social, so Lucio didn’t know him very well. “Does he have any experience?”

Asra and Mordenkainen look between each other with small looks of worry. “... We’ve tried…” “But neither of us are good dms so….” “Not really….”

“Jesus christ.” He groans, rubbing his face and pushing his glasses further up his face. “...... I’m going to have to meet them both, then we’ll see about a new campaign. Nadia!” He looked over his shoulder towards the kitchen.

“What?” Nadia yells back.

“You’re going to need to make a new character!”

“Okay! What kind of campaign?”

“Not sure yet! Probably just a self inserts and fantasy!”

“Hella!”

Lucio rolls his eyes then turns back to the three in front of him. “Same time or do we need to reschedule for the others?”

“Muriel is good with us.” Asra smiles brightly, lightly jumping in his seat.

Julian thinks for a bit, then pulls his cell out of his scrubs pocket. “... I’ll have to check in with her for that, but let’s stick with the same time for now.”

Lucio nods, ideas of what to make the campaign starting to form. “Good, good, please get them in contact with me before then please. I need to meet them first, even if it’s over webcam.”

Nadia came out of the kitchen, holding a bowl of grapes and milk shake. “So we’ve got more people coming?”

“Maybe.”

“Yes.” Rang in everyone else.

She nods, thoughtfully sipping at her shake. “We’ll have to order more food then. Do any of them have allergies?”

“Portia does, but I doubt that’ll stop her from eating what’s presented.”

“Still, best to make preparations anyways. What’s she allergic to?”

“Dairy, but she doesn’t acknowledge that fact.”

“Oh.” She makes a face. “Is…. is there a non-dairy pizza? Hmm, I’ll keep an eye out for non-dairy snacks that taste good.”

Julian sighs with relief. “Thank you. I can try to get her to send a list of snacks she likes, if that’d help?”

Nadia and Julian start to discuss food, while Lucio turns to the other two. “So, I know of Muriel, but what’s he like? Asides from being a big boy.”

“Shy, not outgoing, and suffers from anxiety.” Asra says, ruffling his brown hair. “We figured that doing it with friends would be the best chance at having him play and plus you’re pretty good, so we figured you’d be best at being one of his first dms.”

Lucio sighs in defeat. “We’ll talk more about this later.” He glances at the clock, then groans. “After work, it’s time to go.” He and Asra stand up, grabbing their bags and coats. “Bye Noddy!”

“Bye Mayor!” Asra grins, sliding on his obnoxiously colored green, pink, and orange jacket.

“Not mayor yet.” She laughs, waving them farewell. “Don’t forget your arm charger!”

“Thank you!” Lucio quickly grabs it from the counter, then goes out to the car. “What do you plan on playing tonight?”

Asra buckles himself, as he makes his signature cat face. “What do you mean?”

Lucio narrowed his eyes at him as he buckled himself in and pulled out. “Do you plan on being a memey little shit with the music tonight or do you plan on doing normal bar music?”

“Oh, you know.” He grins, giving Lucio the answer he knew. The bar was going to be filled with meme songs, most of them were going to give him a headache.

“You little shit.” He groaned, already feeling the headache forming from just thinking of what he was going to hear for the hours they were working together. “Can you at least put on good meme music?”

“Excuse you, but Smash Mouth is great music.” He laughs, watching the buildings pass by.

“No, no it’s not. And please, for the love of god, don’t play What’s New Pussycat, because I swear, I will jump over the bar and strangle you for it.”

“Kinky.” He snickers, poking at his shoulder.

“It’s not a kink thing you perverted little shit!” He groans, keeping his eyes on the road as he blindly slaps at Asra.

Asra snorts, weakly batting his hand away. “What if I play, It’s Not Unusual?”

“That’s worse!” He groans, putting his hand back on the wheel. “Just… Please, take some of the patrons’ requests.”

“I’ll consider it.”

It was quiet for the next few minutes, but as Lucio finished parking, his speakers came to life with-

“DO YOU LIKE WAFFLES?”

“ASRAAAAAA!”

The culprit ran into the bar, laughing with bastardly delight. Lucio groaned, rubbing his face as he turned off the car, and grabbed his bag. He hoped today will be slow, so he could write, but since Asra took over the music selection, more people started coming in. It was good for business, but not good for his creativity. He went inside, clocked himself in, and went to his usual part of the bar, the one with the plug-in built into the counter. He plugged in his phone and arm, hoping people chose the other bartenders, but knowing he’s never that lucky.

His fear was confirmed about 10 minutes into his shift. Asra had some weird remix playing as a sickly looking older man came to the bar in front of him. Worm man, or Vlastomil, as his name tag reads, comes in regularly. The only reason Lucio even remembers this fucker is solely because he stands out; super pale, an almost leprechaun face, dark clothes, and is usually saying something about worms. He assumes the man works at the bait shop, but honestly didn't care enough to find out. “What will it be, sir?”

“Drunken worm cocktail.”

He gets out the ingredients, passion fruit vodka, peach schnapps, cointreu, coconut rum, sweet and sour, cranberry juice, and gummy worms. It looked tasty, white bottom, with red top, ice, and gummy worms resting on the top. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” He sets down $15 and walks away to a darker part of the room. A weird, but alright person.

He stares at him for a bit, then picks up his phone and starts typing.  Vlastomil…. Sounds like a perfect fantasy name….  He quickly made some notes, then put away his phone as another person came over. “Hi, how can I help you?”

The man in front of him was beautiful, like almost a model. Long hair in a braid, brown that somehow beautifully turns to blond, and clothes that looked a bit more expensive than this area normally gets. Dammit, he didn’t need an instant crush on a stranger. “What kinds of wine do you have?”

“... Uh, I’ll have to check the list.” Not many people wanted straight wine, so he forgot the actual names of them. “We have…. Pinot Grigio.. Some Chardonnay… uhhh.. Pinot Noir… Rose and Cabernet Sauvignon?”

He raises an eyebrow and has a small smile. “Not used to serving?”

“Not used to serving straight wine. Which would you like?”

He stares at the bottles for a bit. “Pinot Noir.”

“You got it.” He pours him a glass and hands it to him, then watches as he awkwardly holds the glass, probably expecting a wine glass instead of the regular ass glasses they have.

“Thank you.” He continues to stay at the bar, drinking as he looked around, sipping thoughtfully at his wine. “Hmp, this is just like him too.”

He shouldn’t butt in or even mention that he heard it, but his nosiness is getting the better of him. “Who?”

He sighs, leaning back into the bar. “My ex, he used to bring this home constantly. Should have expected the bad after taste of him with it.”

“That’s rough buddy.” Did he really just say that? He’s been dming too long, now he sounds like an actual NPC!

He snorts softly, turning to smile at him. “I didn’t think bartenders actually said that.”

They don’t, I’m just too used to fantasy. “I like going beyond people’s expectations.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He turns back around, continuing to sip at his wine.

Lucio looked over at Asra, only to see him gesturing to…. Do something? He looked at his phone and, oh, he sent a text.

Snek meme bastard: is that valerius? Me: Who is that and why should I care? Snek meme bastard: cuz hes muriels cuz Me: ….. Me: Can u try that again with proper spelling? Snek meme bastard: valerius is muriels cousin Snek meme bastard: is that valerius? Me: not sure Snek meme bastard: ASK Me: NO Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: please Me: no Snek meme bastard: ………. Snek meme bastard: ill give you $20 bucks if you do Me: …… if he calls the cops im bringing you to jail with me

He groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose, then looks back up at the handsome man in front of him. “What’s your name?”

He looks up at him. “.... any reason you want to know?”

Shit, shit, what does he say? “Why wouldn’t I like to know the name of an attractive person at my bar?” He grins, dying on the inside. He really needs to stop hanging out with MC, they were giving him bad habits of unnecessary flirting with everyone who sticks around for more than 5 minutes.

He looks at him for a bit, then laughs. “You…” He snorts, setting down his drink. “Where.. How did you learn to talk like that?”

“I have no idea of what you mean.” Well, at least he got the stranger to laugh, hopefully that means good things and not being considered a creep. “I speak like a regular people.”

He laughs more, then tries to take a sip of his wine. “I’ll…” He snickers. “I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me your’s.”

“I’m Lucio of Vesuvia!” He adds a bit of lordly flair to the way he says it, deciding to commit to the weird way of talking for this man. “And you are?”

He giggles, barely able to talk at this point. “I’m- hehehe- I’m Consul Valerius, at your service!” He goes back to laughing.

His phone lights up, warning him that Asra wanted to call. Fuck that, it’s too loud for that to work out. He declines the call to see that Asra had texted him. A lot.

Snek meme bastard: is it him? Snek meme bastard: hey Snek meme bastard: lucio Snek meme bastard: lucio Snek meme bastard: is it him? Snek meme bastard: LUCIO Snek meme bastard: lucy Snek meme bastard: i said get a name not flirt Snek meme bastard: …… Snek meme bastard: bitch Snek meme bastard: dude Snek meme bastard: respond or i will rick roll the entire club Snek meme bastard: im serious Snek meme bastard: just say if he is or isnt Snek meme bastard: 3 Snek meme bastard: 2 Snek meme bastard: 1 Me: WAIT

But it was too late, the room was filling with the beginning of Never Going to Give You Up, sending almost every person in the bar into a collective flight or fight response. Some were booing Asra, others just loudly complaining, some were laughing, and even fewer actually left. Asra stared directly at Lucio, demanding a response.

Me: YES HIS NAME IS VALERIUS Me: TURN IT OFF Snek meme bastard: :3

The music was changed to.. Something else, the song wasn’t familiar, so that was good. He sighs, rubbing his face. “Sorry about that. Our DJ is a…. He’s a bastard and let’s leave it at that…”

He shrugs, finishing his glass of wine. “It’s alright, odd choices in music, but he seems alright.”

After the song, one of the other DJs took over for a bit, then Asra made, as straight as he could, for them. “Valerius?”

“Who wants to know.” His mood immediately dropped back to being serious.

“Muriel’s roommate, Asra.”

He glances at Lucio, as if to get confirmation.

“This is my bastard coworker, Asra, the memelord.” Lucio sighs, gesturing at him.

Asra grins, then starts talking to Valerius, but Lucio stopped listening so that he could make some more notes. Vesuvia and Valerius… wonderful names..

“Excuse me!” A loud person, yelled at Lucio. He looked up to see Vulgora, one of the few people you actually remembered the name of. They were constantly getting into fights and just overall loud. “Get me a beer!”

“Any specific kind?”

“A beer!”

Lucio nodded, getting the cheapest beer he could find and putting it in a glass, then handing it to them. “Here you go.” Vulgora and the bar had a deal, they could drink as much as they wanted and the bill would be put directly on their bank account. The bill on most days was too many drinks, on worst days, over hundreds of dollars for repairs. He didn’t understand why they were let back in after the first time, but at least they were paying for it.

With their drink in hand, Vulgora started chugging as they went to find someone to arm wrestle, and Lucio went back to his phone. Vulgora… that’s a rather unique name…

There was tapping on the counter, he looked up to see one of his greatest fears: Dr. Valdemar. The doctor might not have done anything specifically harmful to him, but waking up in the middle of surgery was still lucid led to….. Visual nightmares that have haunted him for over 6 years. “..... How can I help you?”

“Have you seen Dearil?”

“Uhh.. no?” Name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place who it was.

They look around, contemplating their next words. “Dark orange hair, reddish brown eyes, and is probably carrying a skull?”

No, no he has not. Well, maybe, there’s a lot of people here. He shrugs. “Can’t help you, sorry.”

They nod, setting down a bill. “Thanks anyways.” They wandered into the crowd, hopefully to never be seen again.

…. They would make a great villain. He typed some more at his phone. He was getting a lot of V names tonight.

“Um, sir?” There was a lady in front of him. “Do you serve food here?”

“The bar with food is over there.” He points to the other side.

“Thank you.” She smiles, walking away and someone said “Volta!” as she approached.

This place has a surprising amount of people with Vs in their first name… He went back to his phone, waiting on Asra to stop talking to the cute guy.

[thisweekingundamwing]

This Week in Gundam Wing 6-12 January 2019

Here’s this week’s roundup!

Remember to give your content creators some love! And join in on the events at the bottom!

~Mod Hel

Fanfiction/Snippets/AU Ideas:

@disturbed02girl​

Postcard #18 https://disturbed02girl.tumblr.com/post/181956488665/postcard-18-heero-is-still-amused-by-duos

Heero is still amused by Duo’s adventures while he travels Earth.

@idkmybffflamingo​

A String of Moments https://archiveofourown.org/works/17381093

Trowa Barton/Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell/Quatre Raberba Winner/Heero Yuy

Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life, Preventers, Cooking, Pet Names, Duo Maxwell Swears A Lot, Missions Gone Wrong, Aftermath of Violence, Card Games, Oregon Trail, Quatre Raberba's Uchuu no Kokoro | Space Heart, Anxiety Attacks, Television Watching, Star Trek References, Sleeping Together, Cuddling & Snuggling, Romance, Polyamory

In the years beyond the Eve Wars, the former Gundam pilots have ultimately settled down into an intimate, cohesive unit. Life is a constant whirlwind of happenings, both good and bad, but through it all one thing is certain: no matter the stakes and whatever the challenge, they face it together.

Gundam Wing Holiday Gift Exchange 2018! Gift for @terrablaze514​

@lifeaftermeteor​

Saturday Snippet https://lifeaftermeteor.tumblr.com/post/181963976776/winner-family-compound-l4-v05001-26-december-210

Winner Family Compound

L4-V05001

26 December 210

@noirangetrois​

Snippet Saturday Monday https://noirangetrois.tumblr.com/post/181805037912/snippet-saturday-monday-ive-been-struggling-with

I’ve been struggling with the (many) fics I’m in the middle of, so of course when the writing bug finally bit me, it was for an entirely new fic I’ve been thinking about for a while, but hadn’t yet started to write. My first foray into 3x4, based on my own experiences going to Band Camp growing up. And yes, before you ask, I play the flute. Which works out, given Trowa.

WIP Wednesday https://noirangetrois.tumblr.com/post/181881723387/wip-wednesday

So, anyone remember my fic Of the Sea? The Little Mermaid adaptation with Duo as Ariel and Heero as the prince but with spies and intrigue and such? That I haven’t updated since May due to severe writer’s block? Well, I’ve finally made some progress, so here is a snippet from chapter 6!

Of the Sea (Ch. 6) https://archiveofourown.org/works/12749670/chapters/40950512

Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

otp, Yaoi, Eventual Smut, fairytale my way, Meroctopus!Dorothy, Aro!Trowa, more ships on the way, Slow Burn, Multi POV, POV Third Person Limited, merman au, Slash, MerMay, Fantasy Politics, mentions of abuse

Heero Yuy will soon be reaching the age of majority, at which time he will ascend the throne of Wingaria. Before that can happen, though, he must needs choose a bride. But what if there are no good choices? What if someone else has captured his heart?

At long last! I’ve finished another chapter! Woohoo! Hopefully someone will still be interested in a story that hasn’t been updated since last May… until now! An excerpt from this chapter:

They had known that Heero was looking for a bride, and that Mariemaia was one of the two frontrunners - the other being Relena Darlian. What they hadn’t known, however, was how very, very reluctant both Heero and Mariemaia were on the matter. Sure, they both said all the right things, showed the proper courtesies and etiquette, but it was glaringly obvious to Duo that if Heero chose Mariemaia, they would both be miserable. A formidable team, yes, but miserable.

And for some reason, Duo found himself hoping against hope that Heero would choose someone else. To be fair, the mer kingdoms were in agreement that an alliance between Wingaria and the Sanq Kingdom would be more advantageous for them - anything to prevent the chance that Dekim would break faith and allow the secret of the merfolk’s existence to get out - so Duo already had incentive to want a different bride for Heero. But now? Now he wanted it not just for the sake of merkind, but for Heero’s sake as well.

Because not only did Duo have access to the interplay amongst all the players here, he was getting to know Heero Yuy the person, not just Heero Yuy the Prince.

@softnocturne​

You Hold Our Hearts (Ch. 3) https://archiveofourown.org/works/16992327/chapters/40940870

Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner/Heero Yuy, Lucrezia Noin/Sally Po, Dorothy Catalonia/Relena Peacecraft, Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell

Quatre Raberba Winner, Trowa Barton, Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Lucrezia Noin, Sally Po, Dorothy Catalonia, Relena Peacecraft, Chang Wufei, Howard, Doctor J, Instructor O, Original Characters

Angst, Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Minor Character Death, Missing in Action

It's been a month and still no word about Trowa, until one night.

@vegalume​

The North Road http://vegalume.tumblr.com/post/181961315245/title-the-north-road-author-vega-lume-beta

Pairing 1+2

Cliché, thy name is Vel. Warning, tharr be sap and a smidgen of angst here.

After becoming stranded, Duo finds himself in to company of stranger who soon becomes more.

Gundam Wing Holiday Gift Exchange 2018! Gift for @dthjoey​

Fanart:

@b0mhat​

http://b0mhat.tumblr.com/post/181902104344

Relena Darlian/Peacecraft

@gundayum​

https://gundayum.tumblr.com/post/181945240991/doodles-first-ones-are-the-variants-of-duos-hair

Duo’s hair

https://gundayum.tumblr.com/post/181829172591/its-a-schbeiker-family-selfie-my-work-week-is?is_related_post=1#notes

Schbeiker Family Selfie

https://gundayum.tumblr.com/post/181918342621/ill-probably-go-back-in-a-day-or-so-and-make

Relena, Heero, Quatre, WuFei, Duo, & Trowa

@seitou​

http://seitou.tumblr.com/post/181890766590/alpha-beta-and-omega-the-first-to-the-last

Alpha, Beta, Omega - Heero Yuy

Photosets/Screenshots:

@moonlightsdreaming​

http://moonlightsdreaming.tumblr.com/post/181936363473/endless-favorite-manga-gundam-wing-glory-of-the

Relena - Glory of Losers

Chats/Discussions:

@anaranesindanarie​

https://anaranesindanarie.tumblr.com/post/181889205724/gundam-wing-a-thon

Rane’s commentary over a rewatch of Gundam Wing.

Quotes/Dialogues:

@incorrectgundamwingquotes​

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181761714069/relena-would-you-date-a-guy-thats-shorter-than

Relena, Dorothy, & Zechs

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181799138720/quatre-we-have-a-problem-duo-we-have-so-many

Quatre & Duo

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181802087249/sometimes-life-can-be-pretty-good-original

Gif set from “Monsters and Knives” by Katherine Crane

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181820475008/duo-see-this-is-why-i-dont-leave-space-you

Duo

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181826376775/trowa-you-cant-expect-me-to-stab-somebody-on-an

Trowa & Quatre

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181828006979/on-the-lunar-base-heero-if-you-two-can-manage

Heero, WuFei, & Duo

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181831520206/wufei-sorry-i-wont-be-able-to-make-it-ive-got

WuFei & Duo

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181845735522/this-has-been-haunting-duo-for-over-a-year-he

Quatre, Duo, & Heero

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181862437636/heero-bursting-into-the-room-duo-i-told-relena

Heero & Duo

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181865683694/duo-quatre-is-a-sweetheart-you-know-what-he-does

Duo & Quatre

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181866214389/at-preventers-hq-wufei-did-you-have-sex-in

WuFei & Trowa

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181876223927/heero-tall-people-are-the-enemy-zechs-cant

Heero & Zechs

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181887048978/yes-relena-is-very-pretty-but-for-the-love-of

FT Relenas >_>

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181903956101/at-zechs-and-noins-wedding-relena-what-the

Relena, Heero, Duo, WuFei, & Quatre

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181914560287/trowa-i-love-you-quatre-i-love-you-more

Trowa & Quatre

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181930879194/trowa-you-dont-like-to-admit-it-but-if-anyone

Trowa, Heero, & Duo

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181936024644/quatre-trowa-god-fucking-dammit-just-take

Quatre & Trowa

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181945213131/trowa-im-not-jealous-i-just-get-this-weird

Trowa & Duo

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181957444745/heero-duo-idly-staring-down-at-heero-id-save

Heero & Duo

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181919777349/at-preventers-hq-heero-i-just-killed-a-roach

Heero & WuFei

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181962631398/duo-you-stupid-twink-trowa-im-a-bear-im-a

Duo & Trowa

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/181970855144/gw-girls-text-posts-vol-1

GW Girls Text Posts Vol. 1

@lemontrash​

https://lemontrash.tumblr.com/post/181866191459/incorrectgundamwingquotes-heero-angry

Heero, WuFei, Quatre, & Duo

A continuation from @incorrectgundamwingquotes​

@noirangetrois​

https://noirangetrois.tumblr.com/post/181847540037/honestly-the-best-part-about-baking-potatoes-is

Dorothy courtesy of @lemontrash​

MoodBoard/Aesthetics:

@softnocturne​

https://softnocturne.tumblr.com/post/181952329775/credit-images-from-weheartittumblr

3X4 Aesthetic

No Idea What To Put This Under:

@lemontrash​

https://lemontrash.tumblr.com/post/181948049974/radio-meteor-episode-2-the-gundam-named

Radio Meteor Episode 2

Calendar Events:

@gwcocktailfriday​

Cocktail Fridays!

Post responses on Friday, during Happy Hour between 3 & 5 pm in your own timezone.

Here’s the prompt for Friday January 18th! https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/post/181951147834/cocktail-friday-post-responses-on-friday-january

For those going to Pillowfort, find us here. https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/post/181733192168/for-those-transferring-their-focus-to-pillowfort

@our-summer-of-zechs​

Summer of Zechs 2019 Ideas https://our-summer-of-zechs.tumblr.com/post/181628092091/we-appear-to-still-be-up-and-running-folks

Come let us know how long this summer’s event should last!

What Month is it? https://our-summer-of-zechs.tumblr.com/post/181933097036/what-month-is-it

Come vote on a month for the event to be hosted in!

Summer of Zechs will start being run from This Week in Gundam Wing Events on pillowfort as well!

@thisweekingundamevents​

Gundam Wing Holiday Gift Exchange 2018!

Gift Master List! https://thisweekingundamevents.tumblr.com/post/181794816005/gundam-wing-holiday-gift-exchange-2018-master-post

GW Valentine’s Event 2019

https://thisweekingundamevents.tumblr.com/post/181866285330/gw-valentines-event-2019

Schedule:

Sunday January 13th - Saturday January 19th | “Sign-ups”

Sunday January 20th - Saturday February 9th | Make your thing(s)

Sunday February 10th - Saturday February 16th | Post your works

Here’s the Pillowfort discussion.

[darlingpetao3]

Rewrite the Stars (Harry Wells x Reader, Chapter 6 - Pretty Woman AU)

Rating: Mature

Summary: While on a business trip, Harrison “Harry” Wells has a chance meeting with the Reader on the streets of Star City. Both from two very different worlds, these two spend the week together under the form of a ‘business proposition,’ only to discover that their feelings are more than strictly professional. Based on the 1990 film Pretty Woman.

Warnings: Topic of Sex-Work, Sexual Content, Unwanted Physical Advances, Coarse Language, and Major Feels

Tag list: @thecaptainsgingersnap @seabasstiantrash @cavanaghcollins @obsessedadryana @technicallykawaiisoul @ill-breach-you-there-right-now @drwellwellwells

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5

A/N: The song for this week’s chapter is ‘Fallen’ and can be found on our playlist here.

~Him~

I was late. Of course, I’d never admit that out loud, but it was still a fact.

I marched into the Plaza’s lobby returning from my meeting while scouring the place for (Y/N). I couldn’t find her. Was she still getting ready? Or had she left?

Someone walked up next to me, and I recognized the man to be Joe West, the manager of the Plaza. He always made sure my stay was to my liking and had always been a great help.

“Doctor Wells, hello,” he greeted me, “I have a message for you.”

"I have somewhere I need to be, so if you could leave it-"

"It's from your niece," he clarified, and I looked at him for a second, wholly lost (as I was an only child), before I realized what he was getting at. (Y/N). I had brought an escort into a five-star establishment. I should have seen this coming.

"I think we both know she's not my niece," I replied, looking West in the eye.

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s the message, then?”

“She’s waiting for you in the lounge,” he said, indicating with his head in the direction I needed to go.

“Thank you.”

Before I took my leave, West remarked, “She’s an intriguing woman.” I stopped, and damn it if I didn’t smile in front of the other man as I thought about how true it was.

“I’m well aware.”

I walked across to the lounge, scanning the face of everyone I could see in order to locate her, but it seemed to be pointless. I did a full circuit of the room and then one on the spot but to no avail.

Had West been mistaken? Had my tardiness left her disheartened enough to leave?

I did another slow turn, and this time, when I looked over my shoulder, I saw her. She sat at the bar, her back to me initially, but now she'd turned around and was smiling softly at me.

In one word, she was a vision.

The dress she bought today… I didn’t even know how to express myself adequately. (Y/N) had stolen my breath with the way she looked tonight. It was a black (a woman after my own heart) cocktail dress which came down almost to her knee and had short lace sleeves. The small jewelled embellishments glittered in the light of the lounge.

I gaped as she gracefully stood from her seat, and watched as she approached me. I'm not sure I could explain the emotions currently coursing through me as my eyes roamed over every inch of her.

It was a transformation, but only in the sense of what my money had done for her. She was beautiful, I'd thought so since the moment we'd met, but only now could you see how she shone.

When she reached me, she carefully straightened my tie and then met my gaze.

"You're late," she said, attempting to sound chastising.

"You're stunning."

I immediately saw the smile begin to grace her features. "You're forgiven,” she said, giggling, and I saw the slight colour that rose in her cheeks.

“Shall we go to dinner?” I held out my arm for her, which she took, and led her to the car I had arranged to take us to the restaurant a few blocks away.

When we entered the restaurant, I saw her wringing her hands in front of her. It was the way I felt inside, though I kept an impenetrable front otherwise.

“Stop fidgeting, there’s nothing for you to worry about,” I assured her.

The hostess showed us to the table where Ramon, and his associate Allen, were already seated. They stood up when we arrived, and it was impossible to miss the look of shock on their faces as I walked up with (Y/N) beside me. Whether it be from her beauty alone or the fact that this woman was with me, I couldn’t be sure, but for the sake of things, I assumed it to be the former.

“Mr. Ramon,” I said, and shook the man’s hand even though that was the last thing I wanted to do. I turned to his associate. “Mr. Allen.”

“Doctor Wells,” the long-haired man-child acknowledged, then looked to (Y/N), “and who’s your delightful companion?”

“This is a friend of mine, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” she said, oozing charm. I pulled her seat out for her before we all took our own. There were so many variables that could go wrong tonight, and I was afraid I hadn’t anticipated them all, but having her here with me seemed to help notably. She sent me a small sideways smile as the waiter brought over the wine menu, followed by the ones for food.

I noticed that (Y/N) looked a little overwhelmed by the choices and so I helped by pointing out a couple of good options that I’d had here before. She seemed grateful for the assistance.

“I assume you’ve come here tonight to try and convince me that letting you buy my company is my only way out of this mess?” Ramon started as he perused the menu, not looking up at me. I hoped he would choose a good wine so that I could at least enjoy something about this meal.

“If you’d agreed to drop the design for the Trans-Dimensional Telecator when I’d first brought it up, there wouldn’t be a mess for you to get out of,” I countered, linking my fingers together in front of me, over my menu.

“You’re just afraid of the competition,” he said before ordering an expensive red. At least he can get something right.

“I didn’t think it was in either of our best interests to go toe to toe on that one, and as the more experienced, I thought that it made more sense for me to take the lead,” I told him. “I appreciate that your little company is attempting to branch out-”

“Little company?” Allen spoke up for the first time, as the waiter poured the wine into the glasses. “Our company may only have been around half as long as S.T.A.R. Labs, but our profits are only a couple of hundred-thousand down on yours. This sounds as though it’s more about your ego, Doctor Wells, and how you feel threatened by Cisco’s quick success.”

“My ego?” I said, raising my voice slightly, “What about him and his-”

“Boys,” (Y/N) said, taking a delicate sip of her wine as all three of us looked to her, “perhaps we should keep our voices down?”

We all looked a little sheepish at that, and I glanced around to check that no one else in the restaurant was disturbed by our argument. But with her interjection, Ramon seemed to take more of an interest in (Y/N) than me and turned directly to face her.

“And what do you think to your… friend’s business?” he asked, glancing from her to me, and I knew he was trying to see if there was something more to our relationship than I’d let on.

“Oh, no,” she said, giving him one of those charming smiles that made me go weak at the knees. “I’m strictly here for pleasure, not business.”

I had inadvertently thrown myself into a coughing fit at her comment. She sent another knowing look my way with a little smirk, and I had to look away. Hopefully neither Ramon nor Allen had seen it, and if they had, they wouldn’t have the balls to comment. I had an image to maintain after all.

“Mr. Ramon, I assure you that this would go a lot smoother if we were on the same page,” I said, recovering and trying to get back to the matter at hand. The man looked back at me, and I could see the contempt return in his eyes.

“I can assure you, Wells, that that isn’t going to happen. Leave my company alone,” the man-bun wearing, self-proclaimed ‘tech guru’ told me as he tried to sound menacing.

“I can’t do that.”

But before we could start to get into it again, the plates of food were brought over to us and, quite frankly, I welcomed the distraction.

I watched (Y/N)’s reaction as her meal was placed in front of her. Her face scrunched up in confusion, head pulling back a tad as if to see more clearly what it was that sat on her plate. It might have been the most amusing and adorable thing I’d seen since meeting her.

“You’ll like it, I promise,” I whispered to her, smiling encouragingly at her.

“It looks like something straight out of Dagobah.”

Ramon’s head shot up and looked at me, then to (Y/N), puzzled.

“What did you say?” he asked her.

“I said it looks like it’s from Dagobah. You know, the swamp in Star Wars Episode-”

“-Five - Empire Strikes Back.”

"Try not. Do, or do not,” she started to quote.

“There is no try," Ramon finished.

I locked eyes with Allen. “What is happening?” I asked him. (Y/N) laughed and took a bite of her meal. She seemed pleasantly surprised.

As did Allen and Ramon.

~

The night may have ended smoothly, and without me chopping off Ramon’s hair, but the issue of the takeover still hung in the air. I knew I’d be waiting indefinitely for my phone to ring until I heard from either Ramon or Jack.

“You didn’t say much on the ride home,” (Y/N) said once we’d returned to the suite. “Still thinking about the meeting? I thought I handled myself pretty well back there! At first, I thought I was going to blow it!”

She followed me out to the balcony, filling the silence I’d been creating with anything that crossed her mind.

“That Cisco was actually a pretty cool guy,” she went on to admit, and perched herself on the balcony’s ledge, “I had fun chatting with him.” I made a face at Ramon’s name. “Oh, don’t even with that face,” she called me out, “See, underneath it all, I think you like Mr. Ramon. I think you think he reminds you of you.”

Part of me wanted to protest the absurdity, but I knew she was more than likely right, even if I wasn’t fully aware of it myself.

“What I’d like is for you not to be so close to the ledge, please.” I didn’t expect her to listen, but she hopped down and moved closer to me instead.

“And if that’s true,” she continued, clearly seeing my lack of response on her comment as an admission, “then, I can’t understand what you’re doing here. If you have similar ideas for something, why not see whether you can combine them? Work on it together?”

“I don’t think so,” I scoffed, but there wasn’t as much disdain behind my words as I expected. “Besides, it’s irrelevant even if I was fond of Ramon because I refuse to let myself get emotionally involved in this business.” It was always easier to not care about the people I had to deal with, and instead, think of them as pawns in a game of chess, but I kept that thought to myself.

“I can relate. Since day one, Laurie’s always saying to me, ‘don’t get emotional when you turn tricks’,” she confessed. “Hence the no kissing on the mouth rule. It’s too personal. So I took her word for it. I’m essentially robotic when it comes to the job.”

She stopped there, and her words made my heart ache. I thought I had remedied that issue long ago. I never thought I’d have to feel that torture again. This was the reason I didn’t open up anymore. How could I be so foolish to believe - to hope, even - that something real could develop between us? I was paying her to be my companion. There was nothing real about that.

“But not with-”

“-You and I are so astoundingly similar…” I said while looking at my shoes. But if that were the case then why had she been able to remain seemingly impassive in this while I was battling with feelings I’d rather repress? I felt like I was losing myself.

“Hey,” she said, trying to get me to look at her, once again instinctively knowing something was wrong with me. “Why don’t we go inside and relax? We can stay up all night and watch the movie channel? How does that sound?” (Y/N) smiled as she put an arm around me, and the small action alone was too much. I needed out. I needed to think.

“Maybe another night,” I said, getting up, “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?”

I walked away without answering and tried my damnedest not to look back.

[thebritishblabbermouth]

EXO Scenarios

An Anon requested this wonderful scenario and here is part 2! Baekhyun :))

I hope you like it!

The request Presented: EXO reactions when their s/o drinks for the first time and starts speaking nonsense. 

Suho and Kyungsoo 

‘’Are you sure you want to go to this party hon? I mean, we can always tell the guys we’re bailing, they won’t mind,’’ said my boyfriend, worry etched onto his forehead. Byun Baekhyun, quite possibly the cheekiest human I had ever met, was also the most caring soul that had ever graced the planet. Always on his toes about my health, the health of his team mates and was probably largely concerned about the small stray puppy that often wandered through our street.

‘’I am just a little tired Baek. Its fine! Nothing a lack of scenery won’t change.’’ I replied, picking up my eyeliner.

Walking over to the dresser, he placed his beautiful hands on my shoulders in an attempt to massage them. ‘’A little tired? You’ve been working so much I am worried you’ll fall ill.’’

His hands were literal magic and if he hadn’t stopped with his antics I would’ve fallen asleep on the dresser, make up in hand. ‘’I am not going to fall ill Baek. Now, let me do my eyeliner so I can do yours.’’

‘’Alright, just stay close tonight hmm?’’ he said, bending down to peck my cheeks. ‘’How about I pick your outfit for you? Just to make things easier?’’ he spoke, head buried into the closet.

‘’Okay Baekkie…let’s just go with the black crop top and jeans yeah? The ones you bought from Hong Kong?’’ I questioned, finishing up with the wing on my eye.

‘’Oh no…definitely not. No crop top for you, it’s freezing outside. And these mom jeans are fine, no need for the ones that make your bum pop. It won’t be just us at the club, I can’t take care of you and keep everyone away at the same time.’’ He mumbled into the cabinet, rummaging for clothes.

I sighed, putting down the eyeliner. ‘’Its boiling hot outside Baek, and you’re more of a mom than the mom jeans could ever be.’’

‘’Did you say something love?’’ He questioned, head popping out of the closet, the boxy smile Id fallen in love with gracing his features.

‘’I am done with my liner, come here so I can do yours.’’ I said, changing the topic. He climbed out of our unnaturally large walk in closet and laid my clothes onto the bed. The black crop top and jeans from Hong Kong sprawled across the white linen. I raised my eyebrow in question as he sat cross-legged onto the floor, head leaned back onto my lap.

‘’I was only joking beautiful, you can wear what you want. Besides, people will stare at you even if you walk out in PJs.’’ He said, closing his eyes.

Taking the make up into my hand, I took to lining his closed lids, just a thin streak defining his already beautiful orbs.

It was hard enough not to bop his nose with my own at the comment but his gorgeous eyes had me enthralled once again. ‘’You’re beautiful.’’

‘’Not as beautiful as you.’’ he replied, placing his lips onto mine in confirmation.

Within 30 minutes, we were hoping into a cab, heading over to club 134340 in order to meet the rest of EXO. It was a simple, celebratory gathering for the completion of yet another eccentric album.

‘’Baekhyun! Jia!’’ screamed a voice that seemed to be louder than the bass at the club.

It didn’t take long for the giant to walk over to us and pleasantries were exchanged as engulfing hugs and affectionate head rubs. ‘’Where’s everyone else?’’ I asked, raising my voice through the music.

Chanyeol pointed over to the awfully crowded booth at the back of the room and it didn’t take long to notice the 7 waving hands. ‘’They’re sitting over there!’’

‘’Let’s go.’’ said Baek, ushering me through the crowd, his hand on the small of my back.

‘’Noona! You’re here! We’ve missed you!’’ screamed Sehun as his long arms smothered me completely. The makane was as big a softie as anyone and would easily take a liking to anyone who bought him food or even paid attention to his daily rambles. Sehun especially liked that I could do both things at the same time.

‘’I’ve missed you too Sehunnie.’’ I said, rising onto my tiptoes to ruffle his hair before taking a seat next to Baekhyun.

It didn’t take long to be completely immersed into the conversation between Baekhyun and Kyungsoo, the argument over movie snacks was both pointless yet amusing. Only when I felt a nudge on my shoulder did I realise Minseok had been sitting on my left the entire time. ‘’Would you like a drink Jia?’’

‘’Aah…I don’t really drink Minseok-ssi.’’ I replied, eyes focussed on the way he made his own beverage, mixing drinks of multiple colours to create his preferred concoction. I watched him make his cocktail and squirmed in my seat, suddenly feeling the heat of the club and the loud music seep through my skin. I could see Jongin and Sehun dance like children in the middle of the club, a confused yet smiling Yixing trying to keep them tame. It wasn’t like I didn’t like spending time with my boyfriend’s bandmates. I loved each of them to bits, but my nerves and fatigue kept me from enjoying the moment.

‘’Here, drink this. It doesn’t have a lot of alcohol, just enough to calm you down. You’ll love it, trust me.’’ Said Xiumin, handing me a glass full of a pale blue liquid.

‘’Thank you, Xiumin.’’ I replied, taking the Tumblr into my hands and sipping from the straw. His eyes were trained on mine, waiting for me to deliver a message with regards to its taste. ‘’It’s fantastic!’’ I continued, surprised at the intermittent tingle it left on my tongue. I watched his eyes soften at my comment and continued to sip from my glass eagerly.

‘’Whatcha drinking babe?’’ said Baekhyun taking the straw from my lips in order to taste the beverage. He frowned upon recognising the alcohol.

‘’You don’t drink Jia. Who gave you this?’’ he asked, the creases on his forehead visible even in the dim light of the club.

‘’Minseok Oppa! He said it doesn’t have a lot of alcohol, just enough to calm my nerves.’’ I replied, reassuring him about the contents of the drink. He nodded at my statement and leaned down to press his lips into my hair.

It didn’t take long for the drink to have its effect on me, the two glasses Minseok had prepared having their primary effect on my bladder.

‘’I need to go to the washroom Baek.’’ I said, whispering into his ear so that he could let me go. His arm had been glued to my waist throughout the duration of the evening.

‘’Come back soon then…it’s freezing here.’’ He answered, winking up at me.

I walked across the dance floor and made my way to over to the bathrooms, ready to join the exceedingly long queue of women ready to vomit, fix their make up or simply have a break from all the music.

I hadn’t realised what had happened after I joined the line, especially after the moment I had decided to lean my head across the smooth walls of the club. However I woke up on a bed, inside a room I recognised immediately to be my own. Panicking, I jolted and attempted to sit up, but strong arms pushed me onto the sheets in an attempt to settle me down.

Baekhyun’s eyes looked down into mine and I calmed instantly.

‘’You fell asleep in the queue for the loo! Honestly…I thought you’d be a dramatic drunk! I figured you’d dance on the tables and strip off your clothes!’’ he said, whispering loudly. The pout on his face as playful as ever.

‘’I fell asleep!’’ I asked, bewildered.

Just then a looming figure stood up, stretching its limbs as it did. The action allowed me to pay attention to the floor, more importantly to the 7 members curled up and snoring. ‘’Yeah…you did. And when we told you to wake up so we could take you home, you started giving us orders! To finish your work! You even told me to do the laundry!’’ said Chanyeol, yawning.

‘’Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to!’’ I said, scrambling out of the bed in an attempt to properly convey my apology.

‘’Don’t be! You were so tired. We just had to help you out! Jongin and Sehun scrubbed the dishes, Minseok and Chen hoovered, Baek and Chanyeol did laundry while Yixing, Soo and I tided everything up.’’ Said Junmyeon groggily.

Even though the respected leader smiled through his tired eyes, my face saw white. How had I possibly managed to ask them to clean my house! I was only two drinks down! The god of alcohol if any, was not on my side.

Baekhyun sensed my uneasiness and pecked my temple, ‘’Relax beautiful, you always do so much for us! This was the least we could do.’’

‘’Yeah. Noona is the best!’’ said Jongin, snuggling himself further into Kyungsoo.

‘’If you’re really guilty Jia. Let us sleep the night here!’’ Said a grinning Jongdae.

‘’Definitely!’’ I screamed, running over to the cupboard in order to take out the required bedding, while my boyfriend giggled with his bandmates.

‘’Sleepovers are the best!’’ murmured Sehun, closing his eyes as I covered his athletic build with my floral duvet.

‘’They sure are! Hopefully she doesn’t say anything about the broken plates in her trash can.’’ Said Yixing, fixing his pillow.

‘’LAY!’’ they all screamed, as I dropped the duvets and ran to the kitchen. Baekhyun, a laughing mess, trailing behind me. 

[kaeyazuha]

hi Ky! ♡♡

hopefully it's easy to treat, lack of sleep can be terrible both physically and mentally! wishing you the best, goodluck until then <'3 oh yeah! i just finished the work that was stressing me out phew

you're really kind. the genshin community on tumblr is lucky to have you, thank you for always trying to hard. don't push yourself too much tho! you still come first obviously >:3

my, i hope you believed what i said too, or at least parts of it! i meant all of it, and all the compliments i give you are real. it can still be hard to believe ofc, so just take your time! just know that you're an amazing friend and person, you're talented, lovable and strong. you're always sweet and i personally find it easy to trust you :)

jahaha you just went and hurt everybody with that. but it was well-written so,,, worth it.

yes! it's not just "you saved us! now i will forget about you and go back to my usual life". even people like diluc, xiao and shenhe open up to the traveler and treat them like family. and childe wanting to travel with us and invite us to his home <3<3 and the hangout event for ningguang, my goodness it was soo sweet and nice!! (tho all of them are cool but.)

hehe, at least his materials are easy to farm, he doesn't need any raiden/signora materials and no handguards with 10% drops lol. i'm sure your venti will be amazing :D which bow will you give him ?

have a good week! love you! <3

- 🦊

Nahhh it's a strange thing, I was born with a cocktail of somewhat complex illnesses and now I'm just making it work (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

You- I- aw- thank you!! Gods, you're so sweet- I'm really glad I met you, y'know. I always look forward to seeing the lil "hey ky!!" in my inbox :') And I believe that you mean those words, and that's enough to me! I do my best to believe the person rather than the words, I find that a lot easier. You're really easy to trust, and I hope it's the same with you.

EXACTLY they each give us a part of themselves in return, even the lazy ones, and I adore that- I mean Shenhe traveled halfway across Teyvat just to see us again, I literally adore her so much omg and CHILDE wanting to leave and join us- imagine Childe and Paimon as our companions. the chaos pls-- ngl serving Ningguang was kinda icky, but I definitely enjoyed her hangout nonetheless :DD

True! I'm gonna give him the stringless bow since I want him as burst support (and because childe is the proud owner of my only skyward harp <33) so hopefully that works out. VENTI COME HOME I saved 20 pulls for you <33

I love you too, have a nice day and take care!

[thesundaycocktail]

A Quick Year

I think we can all agree 2018 went too fast. Wasn't it just yesterday that I wrote my 2018 Cocktail of the Year blog. When you get to a certain age, we'll say 34, the years blend into one and you forget what year you did what. I think of the year I moved country, the year I got married or when my kids were born. Am I gonna remember 2018 as a year on its own in twenty years? Maybe, maybe not. Great summer. Got the dog. Baby Shark. Won my first soccer match as a coach... oh wait, we might have to do that next year.  So thinking of the last year in cocktails, it is a bit of a debate. Last year I choose the [Gin] Martini as my cocktail of the year. To be fair, a Martini could be the cocktail of the year every year. I have so many (not that many to cause concern, drink responsibly, but we'll say 16 to be kinda honest) so this year, I thought better and go a not as popular drink. Another factor was timing. The Sidecar which came in at the end of the year, at first taste was disappointing but a second taste in the month of January proved me wrong (which is very popular in my house, me being wrong.. not the Sidecar.) The Sidecar is the front runner for the 2019 prize.

Which brings me to one of my 2 pointers of cocktail drinking beside the drink itself. Timing and Atmosphere. Case in point, I had great tasting cocktails while trying to both enjoy the drink and finish a Thomas the Tank Engine puzzle. Drink 10, Atmosphere 0. Sitting on the patio watching the sun go down, drinking a Margarita. Drink 10, Atmosphere 10. Finishing the bottle of Vodka with too little tonic, but watching a one sided rugby match. Drink 3, Atmosphere 6. You get the point. But it does lead me to the choice of Cocktail of the Year. I didn't make it at home or was dressed up in a cool cocktail bar. I was at a music festival in Italy. You see, Turin was an adventure (see previous blog). I was anxious, I was slightly nervous and most of all really excited. So after entering the festival and once my nerves were settled (with two beer and one cocktail), I was in such a good mood so by the time the Absolut Joy came around, it made me stop being anxious and start having fun. Surrounded by your good mates and good music, what could be better. Atmosphere was electric which made the drink taste sooooo.... much better. The Absolut Joy is my cocktail of the year.

So my cocktail goal for this year, along with finally getting around to that blasted Sazerac is trying to replicate the Absolut Joy at home. And if have a good time trying.... well so be it. I’ll be dancing and singing in Italian. Warn the neighbours. 

Thank you all for reading last year, I am looking forward to writing in 2019. 

Hopefully it'll slow time down. 

Absolut Joy Absolut Vodka De Kuyper Elderflower Fresh Lemon Juice Simple Syrup Soda Water Lemon

[captainjackfuckingbarakat-blog]

So I’m working on an Ian/Mickey fic, but refuse to post it, until I’ve got a rough draft completed. Now, I’m not very far in it right now, but with college right now, motivation dwindles. So, I thought I’d post a snippet (ok, not exactly a snippet, it’s a few thousand words long...), and hopefully get some feedback on it.

Enjoy!

Felicia’s hand was flung in front of her, the diamond on her finger glinting with the sunlight beaming through the window and reflecting off it. Ian dug into the depths of his memory, for any recollection of a boyfriend, but he found none. He’d known the fiery auburn haired girl for three years – their first meeting definitely left them a story to tell. Despite the length of their friendship, Ian could only remember Felicia single, even last night she’d been eagerly grinding against some guy. “Oi, don’t be thinking too hard there.” She spoke with a thick British accent; she’d only moved to the states three years ago, shortly before meeting Ian, and she did nothing to cover her origins.

           “You’re just telling me about this now!” Ian seized her left hand, eyes glazing over the rock that took up half of her finger. Felicia had been a mysterious woman from the beginning, and had no problem constantly throwing him for a loop – like the ex-boyfriend she’d left behind with their infant daughter when she was 18.

           “He only proposed this morning. Sorry I decided to have celebratory sex with my fiancé to tell your sorry ass.” Felicia yanked back her hand, flashing one more adoring smile at her ring finger before shoving it into the pocket of her black romper. “Oh come on, I’ve told you about Mickey, dark and handsome. Haven’t I?” Felicia threw a gob smacked hand to her forehead and her face flushed. “Ey Ian, forgot to tell you, there’s this bloke I’ve been seein.”

           “Well jeez Felicia, surprised you didn’t wait until I was walking you down the aisle.” Ian had always been one to tell her about his latest fling, however he’s pretty sure she stopped paying attention at guy number 5, and that had only been a month in. He used to believe every guy would be the one, but after a harsh break up with a guy he’d dated for a year, he jumped off that train.

           “Who says you’re givin me away?” She put on a serious face, arms crossing across her chest in dismay, but they both knew that unless she was having the wedding in London, Ian was the only one that fit the job. Felicia’s mom had passed years ago, and her dad was barely hanging on since then, cancer eating away at his lungs. Her only brother stuck around to care for their father, while she’d run away at 16, and only went back for her mother’s funeral – he hated her. “I wanted to wait till it got serious. It got serious, then I forgot.”

           “Probably a few too many lines of coke. I told you that shit isn’t good for you.” Ian tutted his best friend – she was a party girl, but Ian figured out how to maneuver around it. He always let her do her thing, and did a good job at standing up to peer pressure. He had a lot more restraint than his older brother Lip, who was 24 and already a raging alcoholic. Ian was past his party days, and had enough on his plate these days without the booze and drugs plaguing him.

           “Good thing my fiancé don’t care how dumb I am. He loves me regardless.” Felicia flashed her ring again, if only so she could stare longingly at it, as if the man who’d given it to her would appear upon her wishes. “Tomorrow,” she pointed adamantly at Ian. “You’re taking me out for a celebratory drink.”

           “It’ll have to be an early drink. I go in at five, won’t be off until well after midnight.” Ian’s work hours were shit, and the job mundane. He crossed his arms all night as he worked as an intimidation technique at the fairytale, a gay club in Boys town. That’s how he’d met Felicia, a rowdy patron who was way too drunk, and he hadn’t taken a single step up the latter in three years. At least he still have a steady flow of cock, his one remaining vice – he’d even given up cigarettes along the way, allowing his lungs a break from nicotine and weed.

           “Pick me up at two for an afternoon cocktail.” Felicia shook his hand as if that were normal behavior – what, were they setting up some sort of business deal – the two friends had been more of huggers. “Tonight, it’s back to my fiancé, so you’ll have to party hard without me.” For Ian, that meant one beer in the privacy of his crappy apartment in the heart of Chicago, streaming Netflix through the night.

~

           “So, you have got to tell me about this guy.” They had been at the bar for all but ten minutes, with Felicia trying to distract him with crazy coworker stories – she worked reception at a law firm. The girl was already sipping her way through her second glass of whiskey, while Ian had taken a few sips from his Coca-Cola. The bartender had given him a dirty look when he turned down even a beer with minimal alcohol content. He was ready to find it a maddening bar like in the movie Coyote Ugly that would spray him down with water for his choice. “Come on, what’s his name again?”

           “Mickey,” Felicia said with a slap on his shoulder. “He’s the one.” She had always claimed not to believe in love, always cynical about the future, which likely explained why she’d kept this quiet. Boyfriends had only fucked her over in the past. “He’s fucking short, only an inch taller than me, but he never complains when I wear heals. He’s got these stupid tattoos on his knuckles, but somehow I find them endearing.” She went on, and Ian admired the look of love glowing from his best friend. He used to dream about something like that for himself, before he learned that no one would really care about a lunatic. He thought he’s had it with Jacob, but a year into their relationships, and Ian’s meds went haywire, and he was committed for a week. He returned to an empty apartment.

           “I think I’ll ask his sister Mandy to be my Maid of Honor. She’s a kickin girl. Maybe you can be a bridesmaid! We’ll deck you out in a pink frilly dress.” Ian rolled his eyes, because no matter how gay he was, he wouldn’t be caught dead in a dress. “We’ll make you look so good, Mickey might even take his eyes off me and find you so attractive he leaves me at the altar.”

           Ian waved his hands in refusal. “I don’t want your straight fiancés affection.” There were enough guys that wanted to fuck him not dressed as a girl. He didn’t need to dress in drag to attract men’s attention – oddly enough, gay guys still seemed to dig that.

           “Whatever. You don’t know what you’re missing. He’s got a great cock. He’d tear your ass apart.”

           “Oh come on, I don’t need to hear about your sex life. Now I’ll be staring at his dick when I meet him.” They both knew that Ian was a top, not gold star, he’d fucked around more than he wanted to admit sometimes, but straight cock in his ass was repulsive. For all the guys Felicia never told him about, Ian told her in gory detail about the guys he’d fucked – she was the only person he ran to when he bottomed for the first time without getting paid for it. She always drowned him out with alcohol.

           “Who ways you’re meetin him? You ain’t even invited to the wedding Ian Gallagher.” Felicia waved to the bartender for a refill on both of their drinks, even though he wasn’t quite halfway through his soda. “Fine!” She cried as if Ian had been begging her for the last second of silence. “You can meet him. But no acting all high and mighty just cause you can attract classier guys than me.” This fiancé of hers was Southside, one of the few things he managed to catch while absently watching her lips move. Ian had been born and raised in the Southside of Chicago, but ran and didn’t look back much after he joined the military at 18 – even if that hadn’t worked out for him.

           “Oh come on. That’s a low blow. Just because I hate my family doesn’t mean everyone from the neighborhood is like them.” Ian was 23, not some baby that didn’t understand how the world worked. He had his qualms with his family, but kept it between them. Felicia knew as little as he could get away with telling her about the other five Gallagher kids, and the only thing she knew about the deadbeat parents, was that Monica was dead. “I’m sure he’s a great guy.” He better have been good to Felicia, because she never deserved an asshole for a husband.

           “I’ll set something up when he ain’t working. He works construction; it’s fucking shitty, but as least he makes money.” Ian understood; before he’d gotten the job as a bouncer, he’d sifted through some pathetic jobs that paid the bills, and allowed him to live as far away from his siblings as he could. He hadn’t wanted to chance running into them after he’d left for good when he was 19, upon his diagnosis of bipolar disorder. They looked at him the way they looked at their mom – he was fucking insane.

           “Mickey will hate you. He thinks straight edge guys like you are pussies. Guess he’s not exactly wrong, with you at least.” Felicia knew better than that. Ian had a lot of demons that followed him, but mostly his mental illness; it made him weak in too many ways. It stopped him from partying along with his best friend, and left him home most nights. “We’ll have to get you to help with the wedding, god knows I don’t know shit.”

           “And I do?”

           “Duh, you’re gay.” Ian had never been a stereotypical gay man, but that didn’t make him any less of a fag. He’d never fucking paint his nails, or where make up. Ian would rather spend a day bulking up at the gym; all this after hiding his sexuality for a good chunk of his life. In the Southside, with all the uneducated bigots, racists, and homophobes, it was a death sentence for a gay man to even walk down the street.

           “Hey, shut your face. You’re on your own with the wedding. I’m just showing up to make sure you don’t trip on your dress. Wouldn’t want to make a fool of yourself on your wedding day, in front of your husband to be.” Ian finally managed to finish off his coke and put down money for both of their drinks. “Good talk. Can’t wait to meet the guy that puts that smile on your face.” He hugged her tightly as a formal goodbye, and headed out into the burning Chicago cold, and his beat up red Ford that barely ran anymore.

~

~

~

           Felicia and Ian hid together in a dimly lit corner booth, both drinking a beer, albeit Ian was a lot more cautious with his beverage. The brit had insisted they go to a steakhouse, and fill up on a twenty-five ounce steak, and one of each of the deserts for the three of them to split. The best friends saved eating out for special occasions, so that when they did, their bill was well over one hundred dollars, accompanied with a twenty dollar tip. It was just like when he was a kid, and Fiona would run into a bit of extra cash – usually they stuck with buffets. The restaurant was far from fancy, but it was their go-to place, and a couple waitresses recognized them – they only went about four times a year, but they’d been doing so for three years now, and the staff seemed pretty consistent. The booth they sat in was busting apart at the seams, and Ian pressed himself to the wall to avoid sitting on the slash across the middle of his side.

           “So, is Mickey just imaginary?” Ian pointed to the empty spot beside Felicia, and the third, unmoved menu. They’d waited an hour, and his best friend insisted they wait to order, because he promised he’d come, and Felicia still had faith in him. So Ian filled up on the bread the waitress kept bringing buy, and finally ordered himself something other than water. He’d done his best at attempting to not point out Mickey’s obvious tardiness, how bad of an impression Ian was getting of the guy.

           “He’s jus’ runnin’ late. He’ll come!” She was adamant about it, and Ian had no choice but to shut up and sit back with his nearly wasted friend. Felicia was moping, but refused to lose hope on her fiancé, and ordered herself another drink every time the waitress came back. There was a full glass of beer at the seat beside her that she’d ordered along with her first drink, but she left it, because he was fucking coming. Felicia pulled out her phone as her mope broke out into a fattening grin. “He’s jus’ parked. I told ya ‘e was comin’.” He was glad to be wrong.

           Ian hadn’t even seen a picture of the guy, so he hadn’t realized it was Mickey headed their way, until he slid in beside Felicia. His arm fell over her shoulder, and Ian recognized the knuckle tattoos, the only physical attribute she’d given him – this hand read fuck. Their lips slotted together in a brief greeting, and Felicia followed it with a hard punch to the shoulder. “That’s for bein’ late dickhead.”

           “Fucking bitch.” There was a small amount of scruff on Mickey’s chin, and his mop of hair was black, with a hint of something lighter there, and those eyes were a stunning shade of blue – Felicia’s dreamy talk hadn’t done them justice. “I’m sorry,” he spoke softly and ran his thumb over her cheek. He spared a glance across the table to Ian, directing his apology to the both of them. Mickey kept his right arm securely around Felicia’s shoulders, but reached his left out for Ian to shake. U-Up was scrawled across the four fingers in the same unsteady spray of unprofessional ink. “You must be Ian. This one talks about you a lot.”

           The handshake was strong, but not threatening, like he’d gotten from other guys when he’d befriended their girlfriends – if Ian was straight, he wouldn’t have a hard time stealing someone’s girl, the amount of times he’d gotten punched assure that. “You’re Mickey,” the redhead pointed out. “Can’t say I knew much about you before, but she’s talked non-stop these last few weeks.”

           “I wasn’t sure she’d ever let me meet you. So, what is it? You don’t seem like someone she should be hiding.” Mickey didn’t say a word when he picked up the lukewarm beer, and finished it in a few long gulps, slamming it harshly back to the table and motioning his finger at someone walking by for another. Pothole duty must have really done a number on him. “I thought my family was crazy, but this girl’s just as batshit insane.”

           They put their orders in five minutes later, and another round of bread was brought around to their table. Ian laid off this time, but Mickey was quick to slather butter on a slice and shoved it down. “This bitch packed me an apple for lunch, can you believe that. How is that supposed to stop my stomach rumbling while I pour concrete into holes? I’d get it if she was a health nut, but an apple is like two fucking calories and no protein.”

           “If you wanted a cook, you shouldn’t be marrying her.” Felicia had tried to make Ian a can of soup one time when he was low – she hadn’t realized that it was a lot different than the flu at the time. She got him moving pretty quickly when his microwave exploded, and she’d tried to heat it up, can and all. “She’s also a slob. Glad it’s you she’d marrying and not me.”

           “Doesn’t sound like you swing that way anyways.” Felicia had always mouthed off about how much a fag Ian was, which usually led to her attempting to set Ian up on dates. He wondered if Mickey had almost been the culprit of the setup, before she realized he was straight and falling head over heels for her. “Must’ve been hard. Southside ain’t the breeding ground for pride parades.” Ian wondered what had been done right for someone that was so obviously dragged deeply into the drugs and violence of that neighborhood, to turn into a guy that could casually sit across from Ian. He still didn’t feel safe walking in his own neighborhood without a knife in his pocket – everyone knew that the redheaded Gallagher was batshit crazy and gay, because the drunks liked to talk.

           “Did you get out?” Ian wasn’t doing much better than his siblings, but he could at least say he managed to move a few blocks away, and officially out of the Southside, even if his roots were still bred in his bones. He avoided that old rickety house on North Wallace, and the memories that dragged with it. The last time he’d gone home was when their mom died, otherwise he made everyone come to him.

           “Kind of. Spend a lot of time back there. My sister’s still there, with our older brother, but I don’t really live there.” Ian recognized the pain their upbringing instilled on everyone, and they could easily swap war stories. They could decide whose parents were worse – he knew Frank and Monica were tame compared to others, even with both of them fucking off all the time, the drugs, and the bruises Frank occasionally gave Ian. “Of course, this girl had her life set with a rich daddy in London.”

           “My father’s money doesn’t say shit about me,” Felicia quipped – she’d never gotten a penny. Each person at the booth was equally broke, despite her background. Felicia had ran off at sixteen, and had only seen her father a handful of times since. “In fact, thing we might have to dine and dash.” They’d done it once, but Ian had felt so guilty, that he’d gone back and left a hundred dollar bill on the hosts’ podium, because he’d had the money to pay. It was a lot different from when he was ten, and Frank and Monica took the five kids they had at the time to some fancy restaurant. Their mom had just come back, after she’d left five years ago, and the group of them obviously didn’t belong – should’ve been kicked out right away for their appearance, because they were definitely too poor to afford it. Frank had ushered him, Lip, and their five year old brother Carl through a window in the men’s restroom.

           “Need I remind you, the cops hate me enough,” Mickey announced, easily dismissing Felicia’s possibly serious idea. “Southside, man. The Milkovich name is akin for trouble.” The last named sparked familiarity in Ian, not that he remember any of them, except maybe the father.

           “Any relation to, uh…Jerry?”

           “Terry,” Mickey nodded. “Afraid to say I’m his blood. I’m his son.” Ian didn’t remember much about the guy, but Ian had seen him hanging around the Alibi, and Frank slurred about plenty of their fights, Monica might have fucked him too. Kev told horror stories about the different shenanigans the Milkovich patrons had gotten into, none of them the innocent childish type.

           “Seem like a handful,” Ian nodded in sympathy, but didn’t spill into the dramatics about their asshole fathers. Frank was a pathetic drunk that left his oldest daughter to raise five kids, and Ian would never forgive him. Even if Ian had found out that his biological father was one of Frank’s brothers, rich and everything, the real dream for anyone that grew up like them. Ian had learned of this when he was fifteen, and much to Lip’s dismay, he refused to confront his father, because he already had his family. Ian Gallagher was never one to take the easy way out. “So, you were unlucky enough to fall for Felicia,” Ian commented with a breathy chuckle. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

           “Couldn’t ask for a better girl to spend my life with.” Mickey’s right arm had still been comfortably around Felicia’s shoulders, and he squeezed her close as he gushed about her. “I’ve lived with a girl like this one all my life. Guess it was just a test run, so I was ready for the real thing.” Mickey seemed genuinely happy, and it shown in the way his smile sparkled in those ocean blue eyes, and his face split as he let out gentle laughs. Everything told Ian that that was the kind of relationship he’d been dreaming of since he’d understood what it meant to be in love. He was glad Felicia was getting her fairytale ending.

           The arrival of the food halted conversation, as the couple seemed starved. Ian had made the mistake of filling up on the complimentary bread, and instead pushed his food around while participating in the conversation between bites. He laughed along with the jokes, and hung off Mickey’s childhood stories, sharing some stupid comments of his own. Nothing was really serious at the table. Ian knew as soon as Mickey stepped in, the dynamic between them would be changed, and they’d now be a trio. It wasn’t something he was ready to give up.

Ok, if you made it through that, please shoot me a message, or reply to this post. I’m just looking for either reassurance that it’s good, or ways to improve.