#i have an interview to conduct tomorrow must be well rested for it

[like-butterflies-and-glitter]

ate a real proper meal after two days and i think i might actually sleep not as late tonight. sorcery.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Winning the Championship Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 夺冠之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ Released on 28 September 2021 ]

The vibrations of my phone rouse me from the tediously long document. After looking at the caller, I answer it hurriedly.

MC: Gavin? Has your mission ended?

Gavin (on the phone): Soon. I’ll be back before the weekend. I should be able to make it in time for that café event you mentioned.

I suddenly recall how I had mentioned this event to Gavin before he left for the mission last month, but...

MC: Sob sob. I can’t go this weekend. I’m producing a new show, so I’ve been busier lately.

Gavin (on the phone): Is it a difficult show?

MC: A little bit... Come to think of it, Gavin, what type of sports shows appeal to you?

Gavin (on the phone): ...appeal to me? Competitive sports with commentators.

Just as I’m hesitating on whether to tell him about the problems I’m facing, someone on the other end of the line seems to be calling for him.

MC: Go and do your thing. I’m not facing any issues.

Gavin (on the phone): Okay. Contact me anytime if needed.

Right after hanging up, Minor knocks on the door and comes in.

Minor: Boss, I’ve made the arrangements for the collaborative filming of “Life’s Limits” with the City Sports and Culture Bureau. As per your request, I’ve selected a group of amateur racing hobbyists. The name list and materials have been sent to your e-mail.

MC: You’ve worked hard.

Minor: Boss, why don’t you take a break? Your dark circles have appeared.

MC: The company competing with us for this project is Light Media, and it’s much more experienced in producing sports shows as compared to us. We can’t let our guard down.

After more than half a month of research, I locked in my decision regarding the filming site - Hurricane Club.

This club is very well-known amongst motorcycle enthusiasts, and often organises competitions for amateurs.

This weekend, the club will be conducting a three-day training, and participants will be guided by professional coaches. There will even be a friendly race at the end.

The competition has a very novel format - it’s a three-person relay.

I intend to search for three photogenic motorists to form a small team. By following their daily experiences throughout the entire process, including their training sessions and the race, I’d produce a story about the team.

Minor: Boss, according to your request, isn’t the best choice Bro Gavin?

MC: That’s true...

During the initial planning stage, the first person I thought of was actually Gavin.

However, he doesn’t like appearing on shows, and was only willing to appear in previous shows because of me.

Moreover, he’s been away for a mission which lasted close to a month, and should get a proper rest over the weekend.

MC: In short, he... doesn’t quite fit the standard. You can leave work for now.

After sending Minor away, I re-focus on the thick stack of materials in front of me.

-

Before the peak hour on Friday, I head towards Hurricane Club in a rental car. While doing pre-filming checks, I answer the phone.

Minor: Boss, the three people we agreed on have set out. I’ve also found a suitable substitute. After careful selection, he’s definitely a top quality choice. I can guarantee that nothing will go wrong! You’ll get to see him once you reach the club! Boss, thanks for your hard work!

Before I have a chance to probe further, the dial tone sounds in the next second.

MC: This fellow is once again acting first before reporting afterwards... there shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Upon reaching the club, I meet up with the three team members we had contacted earlier.

Based on background research conducted by the company, they are generally outstanding, and are very enthusiastic when it comes to racing.

One of them is a young participant called Kelly, who obtained an amateur championship title in the past.

I quickly introduce the details of the shoot to them.

MC: Bro Liu, Xiao Yu, Kelly, thank you all for participating in this shoot. Afterwards, the club will be allocating you to your coaches for guidance. Even though this team was put together at short notice, I hope everyone can have faith in each other, and motivate each other. We also prepared a substitute team member...

??: Sorry I’m late.

A familiar voice drifts from behind me, and I immediately turn around.

Sunlight falls on every step Gavin takes towards me. The pair of eyes looking at me are bright and clear.

Gavin: I’m the substitute team member, Gavin. I’ve kept you waiting, Producer.

-

After the club assigns the coaches and enters the test run phase, I finally digest the “unexpected surprise” of Gavin’s sudden appearance.

I initially think of finding a chance to talk to him privately, but the coaches who arrive one after another leave me with no choice but to retract the gaze which keeps straying towards that figure.

I shake my head, forcing myself to focus on my current task. By the time all the filming angles are checked, most of the morning has already gone by.

Scanning my surroundings, I don’t see Gavin anywhere.

MC: ...where is he?

-

Walking along the racetrack and towards the vending machine, I decide to get a bottle of coffee to fill myself up before looking for Gavin.

Perhaps because I didn’t have breakfast, I suddenly feel dizzy after taking a few sips.

By the time I regain my senses, I’m carried over to a long bench by a familiar force. Meeting Gavin’s evidently frantic gaze, I quickly tug the corners of my lips upwards into a smile.

MC: Gavin, I was just about to look for you. Turns out you were here.

He doesn’t speak. Lifting his hand, he wipes away the thin sheen of sweat on my forehead lightly. Then, a breeze envelops me gently, warm and comforting.

He takes the coffee in my hand smoothly, then retrieves soya milk and a sandwich from the bag in his hand.

Gavin: Eat your breakfast.

MC: ...okay, I’ll listen to Sir Gavin.

I munch on the sandwich obediently, occasionally blinking at Gavin to convey a message which says, “I feel much better, so there’s no need to worry”.

Gavin’s slightly furrowed brows finally arch subconsciously.

Gavin: I heard from Minor that you’ve been working overnight to prepare for this show.

MC: Haha, don’t listen to his nonsense. It isn’t that exaggerated...

Gavin: I also heard that I didn’t fit the standard. What standard did you set?

MC: ...

I clench my fists in secret, condemning Minor from the bottom of my heart for his “heinous act” of betraying me.

MC: I can explain! You don’t like appearing on camera, and your identity in STF is a pretty sensitive topic...

Gavin: Mm, you’re right.

Gavin deliberately elongates his words, as though he doesn’t plan to let the matter go just like this.

Gavin: So what’s your standard?

MC: ...we hope for the motorists to have a certain level of professional competence, to be sufficiently photogenic, and most importantly, to have an enthusiastic heart. But I really didn’t mean to say that you didn’t fit this standard!

Gavin is finally unable to suppress the upward turn of his lips.

Gavin: Once you’re done today, sleep early tonight.

-

The training proceeds methodically, and filming goes very smoothly.

The roar of motors drift from the club’s racetrack, and motorcycles of every hue speed freely along the racetrack.

In the camera lens, two blue and white motorcycles seem to be speeding at the same pace, as though they’d break through the finish line at the same time.

Kelly: Have you ever participated in professional racing?

Gavin: Nope.

Kelly: The way you cornered the motorcycle a few times - you can’t do that with ease without a few years of experience. How did you do it?

Gavin: I just drive often.

Kelly: Let’s find a chance to ride together some time.

Kelly pats him on the shoulder before continuing the training. Gavin walks over to me, twisting open a bottle of water before taking a sip.

Gavin: Is filming going well?

MC: There’s too much footage from the training sessions. I might consider adding a special segment for interviews.

While speaking, I’m struck with an idea.

MC: Mr Gavin, why don’t you have a pre-interview with me to test out the effects?

I lift a bottle of water towards Gavin. 

MC: What made you like motorcycles?

Gavin: I don’t have a precise answer. By the time I realised it, I already liked them.

MC: In that case, are there any motorcycle-related experiences which left a deep impression on you?

Gavin is silent for a moment. He seems to think of something, then chuckles softly.

Gavin: The time it overturned.

MC: Overturned? When did that happen? You can tell me in secret - this will definitely not be disclosed to the public.

Gavin looks at me, and he speaks in a volume only the both of us can hear -

Gavin: [whispers] The time when I rode on a snowmobile with the girl I like.

The snow field in my memories is cold, but the breath at my ear causes the temperature of my ear to rise.

[Note] This is a reference to Snow Mountain Date

MC: [blushing] Cough, that was...

All of a sudden, a clamour from the racetrack interrupts my words. The both of us stand up, only to discover that a motorcycle has overturned on the track.

Many people are standing at the side, and some call out for the medical staff.

Gavin: That seems to be Old Liu. Let’s go over to have a look.

-

Doctor: There are soft tissue injuries to your wrist and leg. Recuperate properly over this duration, and don’t engage in any intense activities.

Bro Liu: What about the competition tomorrow...

MC: Bro Liu, just recuperate. The doctor said that once your injuries are healed, you can still ride motorcycles in the future.

Bro Liu glances at Gavin.

Bro Liu: I guess I must admit that I’m getting old. It’s time to hand the baton to the young.

After contacting Minor and telling him about what happened, Gavin and I leave the hospital.

MC: Bro Liu worked so hard over the past two days. He must have really wanted to participate in tomorrow’s competition...

Gavin: In that case, we’ll work hard together with his effort. This is when the substitute steps in.

-

It’s the night before the competition, and I’m looking through the contents of the edited shoot over the past two days in my room.

After cutting the cornering training, I modify it into a slow-motion feature, then insert a few casual interactions between the team members as embellishments.

But no matter how I edit it, the clip is unable to convey the feelings I hoped it would.

I grab my hair in frustration, unwilling to accept my defeat. I locate the original video, watching it from the start.

The sound of the doorbell interrupts my slightly muddy train of thoughts. Opening the door, I see Gavin standing outside.

Gavin: I saw that the lights were still on in your room, so I came over to take a look. Why aren’t you sleeping?

MC: Gavin...

Hearing the gloominess in my tone, he takes my hand and pulls me over to sit down on the sofa.

Gavin: Filming didn’t go well?

Placing the notebook laptop between us, I play the recording.

MC: For this shoot, I wanted to edit it into a small unscripted story to showcase the competitiveness and fun of being a racer. As of now, the story aspect is going smoothly, and the interactions between people are interesting too. But I think it’s missing something which can grab one’s attention immediately...

Gavin looks at the screen and ponders for a moment. Then, he suddenly asks me a question.

Gavin: Want to go for a stroll? It’s too stuffy in the room. Getting some fresh air might give you new inspiration.

-

Likely to conserve energy for the competition tomorrow, everyone has returned to rest very early, and the racetrack is completely empty.

Gavin leaps onto the bleachers, then reaches out to me.

Gavin: Let’s go for a spin.

He takes my hand, guiding me onto the vehicle. Then, he puts on a helmet for me, teaching me how to grab the throttle and brakes.

MC: Gavin, are you sure this is okay?

Gavin: You can’t go onto the road, but we’re still within the venue. After filming for days, don’t you want to experience it yourself?

MC: I want to!

Gavin sits behind me, two arms securing me steadily in his arms.

Along with the familiar sound of the engine, the motorcycle moves. The speed is incredibly steady, and is just right for enjoying the pleasant evening breeze.

MC: Gavin, can we go a little faster?

Gavin: We can. Sit tight.

A loud roar drifts to my ears, and the motorcycle flies forward like an arrow leaving a bow.

Very soon, the most difficult part of the racetrack appears, comprising of consecutive bends. During the training sessions, many motorists faced many trials at this area.

Gavin grips my hand, loosening the throttle, causing the the motorcycle to slow down.

MC: There’s no need to step on the brakes?

Gavin: No need. Engine braking is enough to reduce the speed.

While speaking, the motorcycle tilts at an unbelievable angle at a turn. Gavin controls the direction with composure, air currents at the side keeping the motorcycle steady.

The motorcycle dangerously yet steadily completes the curved track, returning onto a straight track and picking up speed once again.

Gavin: MC, can you see where the cameras are? That’s the goal. On the racetrack, that’s the only thing in a racer’s eyes.

The sound of wind at my ears seems to quieten down. The moment we charge past the finishing line, I suddenly have a feeling that a full stop has been drawn on the racetrack.

Even after the motorcycle makes its gradual halt, I’m unable to return to my senses.

Seeming to understand my silence, Gavin doesn’t speak. He simply pushes the motorcycle that I'm on patiently, walking slowly.

MC: Gavin, I know what this story is missing. Stirring the emotions of viewers requires the most important thing which can make them seethe with excitement -

Gavin: Winning the championship.

MC: That’s right. All the effort from before is meant for the final sprint towards the goal. Winning the championship is the core of a competitive spirit, and is also what the show’s theme of “limit” is seeking after. But... Gavin, do you think we have a chance at winning the championship tomorrow?

Gavin: Yes. But while we’re improving, others are improving as well. Everyone on the racetrack will be aiming towards victory. The people you selected are very outstanding. Believe in them, and believe in yourself.

MC: Mm, everyone has already worked very hard. When it comes to winning, it’s good enough if they try their best.

Gavin parks the motorcycle properly, then carries me down from it.

Gavin: Go back and have a good sleep. You don’t have to worry too much about the competition tomorrow.

-

It’s finally time for the competition. Seeing the filled audience seats, I feel incredibly nervous.

Kelly: I didn't expect to see so many people.

MC: It’s a Sunday, and the club decided to open the venue to the public as publicity.

I take a deep breath to calm my emotions.

MC: Let’s enjoy the fun of racing to our heart’s content! Shall we do a pre-competition ceremony?

While speaking, I stretch out my hand. Gavin cooperates, placing his palm over the back of my hand. He gives it a gentle pinch, and it feels as though an endless stream of strength is being transmitted.

It’s a sense of security belonging only to Gavin.

MC: Safety first, the competition second. Everyone, all the best!

All the motorists have taken their places at the starting line. Based on prior suggestions by the club, I’ve arranged Kelly to take on the first battle, and Gavin will be the finale.

With the green light signalling the start of the competition, twenty motorcycles which have been waiting for action seem to sprint forward at the same time.

The sound of motor engines causes everyone’s adrenaline to spike, and the crowd becomes immersed in the competition.

I’m positioned closest to the audience seats. This is the first time I’m viewing a competition from such a close distance. Even though it’s an amateur competition, it’s sufficiently astounding.

Xiao Yu makes a few minor mistakes at the bends, causing the team to lag behind temporarily.

Carefully observing the changes on the racetrack, I don’t feel overly anxious.

Because it’d be Gavin’s turn next. With him around, I always feel exceptionally at ease.

I look at Gavin as he waits at the handover area with a helmet over his head. He seems to sense my gaze, and turns around to see my thumbs up.

In the next second, his motorcycle charges into the racetrack.

The blue and white motorcycle courses past the bends nimbly in almost “L” shape movements.

As compared to my experience last night, I can see Gavin’s cornering techniques even more clearly from the audience seats.

Although the camera is unable to capture his expression, it isn’t difficult to imagine his focused and bright eyes from underneath the helmet.

When the competition enters its final round, Gavin has already reached the second place, and there’s hardly any difference between him and the first competitor.

The audience’s emotions are stirred by this intense competition, and the sound of cheers surge forward like a tide.

I find myself being influenced as well, staring fixedly at that sprinting figure.

After the upcoming bend, the goal will not be far.

Unexpectedly, a motorcycle behind suddenly accelerates towards the bend, using its full strength to make a last effort.

However, the motorcycle tilts too much. It’s clear that the centre of gravity was not controlled properly, sending the motorist collapsing onto the track.

At this point, Gavin’s motorcycle is already over half of the bend. He controls the dip of the motorcycle, barely avoiding the fallen vehicle.

Because of this incident, some distance is pulled between himself and the motorist in first place.

On the straight road, Gavin’s motorcycle suddenly accelerates, keeping pace with the motorist in front.

In this moment, time seems to slow down. I hold my breath, feeling as though my spirit has become one with that sprinting figure.

The rustling of leaves, the flapping wings of birds, the yelling of the audience, the checkered flag waving mid-air... all of them gather into one voice-

Announcer: The first place goes to No. 07!

On the big screen, Gavin’s name is listed impressively at the top.

At the final moment, he attained first place with a 0.06 second difference, winning the championship.

Gavin did it!

The motorcycle comes to a gradual halt. Gavin removes his helmet, droplets of sweat reflecting bright rays of light beneath the sunlight.

The smile on his face is sparkling and dazzling, bringing with it the confidence belonging to a victor.

Such a result is both unexpected yet within my expectations.

Gavin turns around, looking squarely in my direction.

He shakes his head casually, which has gotten messy from his helmet, and says two words.

Gavin: We won.

-

The employees push the motorcycles back to the venue. Gavin heads over to the referee’s seat, lowers his head and says a few things before walking to me.

The gold medal in his hand dangles slightly, reflecting a dazzling light.

Cheers from the surroundings grow brighter as he draws closer. Separated by the bleachers, he stretches out his hand towards me -

He leans over the bleachers slightly. As he draws closer, I can detect the scent belonging only to Gavin.

Gavin hangs the medal around my neck, announcing our victory.

Gavin: The champion title - we’ve got it.

My mouth opens, but I have no idea what to say. My body reacts faster than my brain. I stretch out both arms, hugging him with all the strength in my body.

Scorching warmth and the dampness of sweat from the competition linger on him.

Gavin returns the embrace. It’s as though this hug is enough for us to understand each other’s sentiments.

Gavin: I think I heard you cheering me on.

MC: I did it so softly, but you could hear it?

Gavin: Mm, the wind told me. Everything you say - I can hear them.

MC: There’s still one thing the wind hasn’t had the time to tell you. I’ll say it myself right now.

Turning my face to the side, I bring it close to his ear.

MC: Gavin, you’ll always be the only champion in my heart.

🏍 Call and Moments: here

🏍 Art based on this date: here

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[vesuvian-american-fics]

better with time. Ch 9

you're not normal.

Lunch with the scouts goes just about as planned, awkward. A meeting with Erwin leaves you feeling fearful of tomorrow.(AO3)

Words: 1,836

As the comfort of sleep faded away, regretfully you opened your eyes and sat up on your bed. You stretched your weary muscles and groaned at the popping sounds your bones made with the movement. You lazily patted your hair back into its usual form before straightening out your clothes and opening your door. Just as you did you were met with Levi’s irritated glare.

“That’s the last time I go without locking your door.” He said before sighing and walking off. You followed without a word, too sleepy to reply to the man.

“You will sit at the same table as Hange, the other superiors and I. Don’t speak unless spoken to, if you do good today this can be regular. If any scouts come up to you, ignore them. It’ll be hard because those brats are chatty, don’t answer any of their questions. Got it?” He rattled off. Right now, he was seeming like more of the chatty type, more than usual you suppose. However, it's to be expected you imagined. He’s giving you a lot of trust allowing you to eat with everyone as if you were normal. You were thankful but that can go without saying.

“I got it.” You replied, within the next few steps the two of you were standing in front of the canteen you had cleaned just hours before. Suddenly feeling shy and self-conscious your stomach sank. You hadn’t been in a social setting like this since you’ve been human again, to be honest you were scared. No one was expecting you to speak though but you knew all eyes would be glued to the back of your head as soon as you entered. It was nerve wracking.

“Stand up straight...” He snapped before opening the door an walking inside, leaving you to trail after him like a lost puppy. Just as you hypothesized, the once loud and rambunctious canteen had fell silent. Silent save for Hange still tittering off about one sciencey thing or another to the other men at their table, that made it less awkward for you but you couldn’t help but feel a few beads of cold sweat forming at your brow.

Levi cleared his throat dramatically to grab your attention toward the meal tray he had already filled with your lunch for the day, boiled potato and soup again. With that the two of you made your way towards Hange and sat down, you next to them and Levi across. The men at the table, Mike and Moblit, eyed you over in acknowledgement before properly greeting Levi. You gave them a curt nod and lifted your fork to take a bite of your food. Hange roughly hooked an arm around your shoulder before loudly bringing you into the conversation.

“Moblit! This is the one I’ve been talking about! Y/N! Hi!” You winced at their volume and a shy blush warms your cheeks, as if all the attention in the room wasn’t already on your neck, it surely was now. You could hear your name floating about the room as people began talking about you.

“Y/N huh?”

“She’s that titan?”

“Is it safe having her here?”

“I’m sure they know what they’re doing...”

“You think she’s like Annie���–”

“Don’t mention that one!!”

That last part greatly disturbed you, but you decided to ignore the voices around you and just focus on the people at your table and your food. Levi looked at you over the top of his tea cup, reading your worried expression carefully. Setting his cup down gently he addressed Hange sternly.

“Shitty glasses... Keep your voice down you’re giving me a headache.”

Hange being as intelligent as they are quickly realized Levi said that more for your sake than his made-up migraine. Hange gave a short glance your way before quickly giving you a squeeze and lowering their voice as told. Instantly a bit of your anxiety ebbed away though the gossip didn’t die down much.

The rest of the lunch period went without much incident, Hange did well to distract you from the background chatter and made you feel normal. Moblit was a sweet fellow, the only person you imagine could handle Hange on 100% at all times, Mike was quiet but from time to time he would chuckle at the commentary. Levi remained stoic and unchanging, sipping his perfectly brewed black tea, and picking away at his meal. It was a nice change in pace in contrast to eating alone in your room with your nose in a book.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a boy you recognized instantly came stumbling up towards Levi. His large teal eyes staring into yours. However, this time, two others followed after him. A taller girl with brilliant black hair and a soft red scarf over her shoulders, and a timid looking blonde boy with even bigger baby blue eyes.

Without taking his eyes off of his plate Levi addressed the three scouts coldly.

“And what do you brats want?” His voice made the blonde jump, and to make him feel a little less on edge you returned your gaze back to Hange and Moblit, watching the two interact and trying to ignore the scouts and whatever they needed to give them a semblance of privacy.

“C-captain, we were just wondering-–” Eren was interrupted by Levi speaking over him.

“If you’re wondering anything about Y/N, its none of your business for now. Dismissed.” With the mention of your name, you jumped a bit and your shocked yet confused eyes met Levi’s even and dark ones.

“It's dangerous having a titan at the base with Eren. What if she’s after him like Annie was?” The girl responded, she had a confidence about her that told you she was strong and not to be trifled with. Almost on par with Levi, however, she lacked the outward intimidation.

“Do you think I can’t do my job, Mikasa?”

“But for Eren–”

“Do you think I can’t do my job?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then you’re dismissed.” Levi ended the conversation once again with a tone of finality. After a moment of tense silence, the three of them walked off as the blonde pulled tirelessly on their sleeves away from the table.

“Also, the three of you have kitchen duty for the week.” Levi called after them, you could hear the three kids bickering amongst each other as they got back to their table. Eren and some taller boy teasing one another as soon as he sat down.

You looked back to Levi but he was already standing from his seat, taking your tray and his to be disposed of. Before he could make it back to the table the door of the canteen opened, you couldn’t see who was on the other side but Levi went to them quickly.

He was gone for just a few minutes before Erwin stepped through the door. Everyone stood and saluted to him, and you felt awkward for sitting.

“At ease.” He said, everybody retook their seats as his eyes scanned the crowd for yours. He gave you a small smile before he spoke again.

“Y/N, come with me.” Your eyes widened just a fraction before darting towards Hange, they nudged you and waved you off.

“See you later Y/N!” With that, you stumbled towards Erwin and he opened the door for you. Outside you were met with Levi and the three of you walked towards what you imagined to be Erwin’s office at the base.

You were nervous, they must have decided what to do with you. Or maybe they want to conduct another interview now that you could talk, but you don’t remember anything new yet. Anxiety pricked at your skin; you weren’t prepared to be berated with questions.

What if, because of your lack of memory they thought you were lying? What if they didn’t trust you? What if–

“Go inside.” Levi said, ripping you from the cloud of your invasive thoughts. You stepped inside the office and took a seat, Levi remined standing by the door. The large wooden desk was decorated with a name plate reading Erwin Smith.

The man in question cleared his throat before shuffling a few documents before him and addressing you.

“Y/N...”

...

Experiments? Are they serious?

“I can see the distress on your face. I assure you; the experiments will be nothing invasive, and all led by Hange and Moblit.” Still, you were unsure about the prospects of being tested on like some animal to the slaughter. Your lack of response urged Erwin to continue explaining.

“We need to test your titan abilities, if you can shift like the other titan shifters we’ve encountered. What are your strengths, are you a unique case? Things of that nature, and if we’re to trust you to the best of our ability, we need to know these things. I’d like to ask for your consent, however, if you’re to stay with us there is no other way, I’m afraid.” He rested his chin atop his clasped fists and we patiently awaited your reply.

Levi however, was never one for such pleasantries, and gave you no extra time to think it over before he spoke.

“If you don’t want to stay, we can always drop you off outside the walls and watch you fend for yourself against your friends out there.” He commented, pointing his thumb out towards the windows. The thought unnerved you, and you wouldn’t put it passed him to stay true to his word.

With a defeated sigh you gave the men your answer.

“I’ll do anything. I can’t lie I’m afraid, I don’t want to be a titan anymore. I don’t want to be a shifter. This is all so confusing but I’ll do what I have to to gain your trust.”

“Well then that settles it. We’ll start tomorrow.” Levi said, quickly heading out the door and leaving you and Erwin alone. Your shoulders dropped; this was all so sudden but you could understand their dilemma. They needed to have answers and quick, you’ve already been here for quite some time inconveniencing them with your silence and memory loss. This is the least you can do.

It’ll give you the answers you’ve been hoping for yourself, can you even turn again? You prayed to whatever god that was listening that you didn’t have the ability to shift. You signed your name on the pages that Erwin slid across to you.

He gave a knowing smile, before dismissing you. When you exited, Levi was there waiting to lead you back to your room. The walk back was silent as expected, and when you entered your room he lingered in the doorway before speaking.

“Rest up. I’ll bring your dinner here later.” You nodded weakly before falling over into your pillow. He stayed just a second longer before you heard the soft click of the door shutting, and the quiet jingle of his keys locking you inside.

The uncertainty of tomorrow scared you.

[zamoimagines]

This Means War

Word Count: 3,769

Pairings: Venable x Reader, Cordelia x Reader

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Warnings: None

Summary: You’re sent to Outpost 3 on behalf of the coven with Coco to protect Mallory. A spell is put over you so that you forget anything you ever knew of being a witch, including all of your memories of your girlfriend, Cordelia. Without the Supreme and being confined to the Outpost after a nuclear missile launch, you feel empty for what seems to be no reason at all. That’s until a new woman, Miss Wilhelmina Venable takes an interest in you.

A/N: You sluts are gonna live for this shit. I’m extremely proud of this chapter, and I’m excited for you guys to read it. Let me know what ya’ll think ;)

The Outpost was a much warmer place with Venable by your side. When you had first arrived, this seemed like the coldest place on Earth. Lifeless. Depressing. That kiss had changed everything. Suddenly, the corridors seemed much brighter. You were so much nicer and talkative toward the other residents. Hell, the mineral cubes even tasted better. Love had such a wonderful effect on you. It was noticeable that Wilhelmina was becoming happier too. She’d stopped yelling at every little thing, and she’d even become much more lenient. It was obvious when she merely started laughing at one of Coco’s hissy fits.

“This whole place is bullshit! I swear to fucking god if you don’t get me some decent shampoo, I’m going to lose my fucking mind!” she screamed.

All Venable could do was chuckle to herself. No harsh words, no punishments. Just laughter. When Wilhelmina left the room, the blonde looked at you with a crazed expression.

“What the shit just happened?”

“Perhaps she’s just loosening up a little.” You shrugged to her.

Coco squinted her eyes. “There’s something weird going on… I can smell it.”

“No, you can smell that disgusting perfume you’ve been wearing.” Mr. Gallant retorted.

Coco shrieked as you tried hard not to giggle. Mr. Gallant was already cackling. Mallory, one of the Greys that often joined in their conversations, was trying her best not to be unprofessional. You could see a smile crack on her face. 

“I will fucking end you!”

“Oh, I’m shaking, really!” He mocked. The three of them had become entertaining to you, rather than annoying like they had always been. You might have even considered them to be good friends of yours now. 

The Outpost was starting to finally feel like home. Every night after all the others drifted off to sleep, you would sneak off to Venable’s room to sleep in her chambers. Some nights were just as steamy as the first you’d spent with her. Others were gentler, in which you would stay up all night listening to her read to you or talk about everything and nothing. Wilhelmina was slowly becoming your other half. It didn’t take long for you to completely forget about the mysterious woman that had been haunting your dreams months before. 

Everything was growing to some sort of normal. You could admit that you were finally happy once again. 

One night, you entered Venable’s room excited to see her after a long day of her working. She’d stayed distant all day but you just figured that she was busy doing things for the Cooperative. You put on the prettiest smile for her. 

“Mina!” you sang out as you closed the door behind you. “I missed you at dinner-”

You were caught off guard. Usually, when you came at night, her eyes would sparkle. This was much different. She wouldn’t even meet your gaze. The redhead was pacing back and forth, her silk robe dragging heavily behind her. She hadn’t even taken her hair down yet. Something was most definitely wrong. 

Slowly, you made your way up to her and touched her shoulder gently. 

“Mina? Are you okay?”

Her face was ridden with fear. You had never seen her this disturbed before. 

“Someone’s coming, Y/N.” 

“What do you mean?” you replied, “I thought no one else was alive?”

“The head of the Cooperative is arriving tomorrow. He intends to conduct interviews on everyone that resides here… All of the Greys, the other residents, Mead, you and I-” She bit her lower lip nervously. “Something isn’t right. I can feel it.”

You took her hand into your own. Placing a soft kiss to her knuckles, you managed to get her to crack a small grin. 

“Y/N- You’re so good to me.” Wilhelmina pulled you in close and let her arms wrap around you tightly. You rested your head in her neck. 

“You must promise me something.”

“What is it?”

Her chin leaned gently against your hair. “Promise me you won’t go to your interview. I don’t care if this man is running this facility. I don’t trust him, and I have to keep you safe.” She gazed down at you as her hand cupped your cheek. 

“Promise me that you’ll stay away from him. No matter what he says, no matter how persistent he is, you must promise me that you will not partake in an interview.” 

You weren’t sure what to say. Seeing Venable this shaken up was scaring you. Wilhelmina Venable, fearless leader of the Apocalypse, was showing an emotion you’d never seen from her before; fright. Wilhelmina was frightened. If this woman was worried, then you were completely terrified. 

“I-I promise, Mina.” 

Wilhelmina pulled you into another tight hug. 

“I’m going to do everything to keep you safe, Y/N. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” 

You wholeheartedly believed her. You trusted Venable with your life.

The next morning, everyone was up at the crack of dawn. Venable was back to her strict ways. It was very obvious to you that she was tense, and you were sure that the others could tell something was up. 

“Venable, it’s too early for this shit-”

“Ms. Vanderbilt, I will NOT stand for your catty remarks. If you so much as breathe near me, so help me, I will have you in a straight jacket for the rest of your stay here. Do I make myself clear?” 

Everyone was very taken aback. Coco couldn’t even reply. She just remained completely silent the rest of the morning. 

A couple hours later, Venable called a mandatory meeting in the common room. Everyone did as they were told and made their way down immediately. No one wanted to be on her bad side today. You sat on the couch in the spot closest to where Venable was standing. Her posture was rigid, almost as cold as the day you met her. You wanted nothing more than to comfort her.

“As many of you may know, the Cooperative is running our operation. We are forever in debt to them for saving all of our lives. We should feel lucky out of all the people in the world, we were the ones they showed mercy to,” she began, “We should also feel honored that the head of the Cooperative has decided to pay us a visit. May I present to you all Mr. Langdon, our savior.”

From the shadows, a well dressed man slithered his way by Wilhelmina. He had long hair, ice blue eyes, and an evil smile. Something in your gut told you this man was bad news. He almost made you want to flee for some odd reason. He made your blood boil and you barely even knew him. 

“Hello.” He greeted everyone in a sly tone, “I’m Michael Langdon. I’m here for the next phase of business.” 

“Business?” Coco piped up. “What business is there? The world ended.”

Venable shot a deadly look at her. Mr. Gallant surprisingly spoke up as well.

“She’s got a point. What else can there be?”

Michael flashed a smile to the pair. 

“I’m so glad you asked. You see, this facility was only meant to be temporary. Our mission was to gather the lost souls that may survive all of the nuclear fallout,” he began, “You are the lost souls we needed.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Coco muttered.

“It means that some of you will be coming with me to your new facility. A true safe haven. I will conduct an interview with each resident… And I expect all of you to speak with me.” He paused for a moment to gaze down at you. You could feel his piercing gaze, almost as if he could see right through your soul. You didn’t dare to make eye contact with him. All of a sudden, you felt a finger lift your chin.

His eyes were locked on you. Michael was studying you rather intently, making sure not to miss a single detail of your features. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Venable’s fingers twitching upon her cane. Her teeth were clenched tight together as she tried hard not to show any sort of weakness toward you. 

“You look familiar… Don’t I know you from somewhere, little one?” Michael cooed as he brushed your hair behind your ear. His touch made you want to vomit. 

“Ms. Y/L/N was one of the first to arrive. She doesn’t remember anyone from before the apocalypse.” Venable cut in. 

“I see.” Michael’s gaze lingered. There was something about him, something absolutely foul. You knew him from somewhere. Langdon radiated malice and hate. His intentions were cruel rather than merciful. 

“Will everyone go to the safe haven?” Dinah asked. 

Michael left your side to step to the others. You were glad Dinah spoke when she did. 

“Not all of you will be eligible. If your interview goes well, then expect a desirable outcome. If you don’t pass…” He grinned to himself. “Then you’ll be left behind.” 

“Left behind as in stay here?” Coco laughed in disbelief, “I can’t be here! Not when there’s a utopia waiting for us!”

“Let’s hope you meet the requirements so you don’t stay and rot.”

His remark made Coco’s face twist in disgust. All of you were completely terrified. 

“Interviews will begin immediately. Are there any volunteers to go first?” 

Everyone remained silent. His head snapped in your direction. 

“How about you, little one?”

Anxiety rushed over you as Venable’s eyes widened in horror. You opened your mouth to say something, though someone else spoke instead. 

“I’ll go first!” Mr. Gallant cried out. You glanced over in his direction. 

“I wanna get this over with anyway. Let me go.” 

Michael raised a brow. “Very well. The rest of you may be dismissed.” 

The man returned to the shadows to make his way to the spare office waiting for him. You mouthed a “thank you” to Mr. Gallant. He gave you a sympathetic smile before following Michael upstairs. 

Once everyone had dispersed, you were alone with Venable. Wilhelmina instantly sat down next to you. 

“Are you alright, my darling?” 

“Mina, there is something just awful about him.”

“I know, my love.” She murmured as she gave you a tight hug. “I have a plan to get us out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, we can’t stay here. We’ll die if we don’t go.”

“But where will we go?”

“I know where the safe haven is. If we travel by foot and don’t stop, we’ll be there in two days.”

“Mina, what about radiation poisoning? What will we do about food? What if we die out there-”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. If you want to live, you’re going to have to trust me.”

This was too much to take in all at once. On one hand, going outside of the Outpost was incredibly dangerous. Though staying inside would get you killed eventually. You realized that you didn’t have much of a choice. 

“Okay. Tell me what to do.” You replied.

Her lips barely touched your ear as she whispered to you.

“Stay out of Langdon’s sight. I’ll keep him away from you as long as I can, but whatever you do, do not let him conduct an interview.” She squeezed your hand, “Halloween is tomorrow. Langdon wants us to have a celebration, we’ll sneak out while the party is happening.”

“What about the others?”

“Never mind them. Make sure to gather your things tonight, and pack light. We have a long journey ahead of us.” 

You nodded to her. She kissed your cheek lovingly as a single tear fell from her eyes. 

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

Your lips found her own as you kissed her. It was long, almost bittersweet.  

“I love you too, Mina.”

-----

You weren’t sure how you’d done it, but you managed to stay out of Michael’s sight. Perhaps it was the fact that you’d locked yourself in your room for the rest of the evening. You were just grateful he’d never found you. Everything that you thought you might need was packed away, lightly, just as Venable had instructed. You were ready to run. 

“Halloween?” Mr. Gallant spoke. Everyone at the breakfast table had smiling faces at the sound of a celebration. Even Venable managed to grin today. 

“That’s right. We will be hosting a Halloween party this evening in the style of a Victorian Masquerade. At 6:30 sharp. The Cooperative has provided us with some gifts that will be dispersed during the festivities.” Wilhelmina explained.

“What kind of gifts?” Dinah asked.

“What does it matter? They’re gifts! When’s the last time any one of us was given something!” Coco giggled. 

You were trying to be as excited as the others. It was hard to think that you’d be leaving all of them behind. As much as these people annoyed you at times, they had become like a little family to you. You’d never admit it but missing out on Coco’s temper tantrums or not being able to listen to Mallory’s stories was something you were going to miss dearly. Wilhelmina winked in your direction as the others began to chat amongst themselves about the evening ahead.

“I assume everyone is giddy about the party tonight?” 

Michael appeared out of nowhere, staring at everyone around the table. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck you thought to yourself. He was already gawking at you. 

“We’re stoked, Langdon!” Coco replied.

“I’m very glad,” he muttered and completely ignored her presence. “Ms. Y/L/N, I do believe we still have to conduct your interview.”

“O-Oh, are we still doing that?” You squeaked.

“Yes, little one. You missed your slot yesterday.” 

“I’m sorry. I forgot all about it, that was my mistake.”

Michael sauntered over behind you and gripped your shoulders. His hands were strong, as if he could crush bones with them. A shiver ran up your spine. 

“That’s quite alright, dove. Let’s just make sure to take care of it today.” 

“Mr. Langdon, I don’t think conducting her interview today would be necessary.” Venable added. Her expression remained cool and collected, though you could tell that she could lunge at him at any second. “After all, today is a celebration. Perhaps the rest of the interviews can wait until tomorrow.”

“It won’t take but a moment. Besides, hers is the last interview of the residents.”

“That’s not true!” Dinah said, “You still haven’t given me an interview.”

Michael loosened his grip. “Ah, Ms. Stevens. I’m terribly sorry, I’m afraid I’ve forgotten yours as well.”

“Save the interviews for tomorrow, Mr. Langdon. Everyone deserves a bit of a rest today, don’t you agree?” Venable cooed. It amazed you how great she was at manipulating the enemy.

“Perhaps. Well then,” Michael moved to stand before the table. “I expect to see all of you tonight. You are dismissed.”

Mr. Gallant pulled on your hand and guided you over to where he, Coco, and Mallory were going. You were secretly glad about it. Who knows what would’ve happened if you’d stayed at that table. 

“Okay, I’m doing everyone’s hair. Coco, I think for you, we should do a huge French updo! Like one of those powder wigs!” 

“Ooooh! I’m going to look fucking amazing!” She squeaked. 

“Y/N, I’m thinking maybe a half up, half down moment?”

“Oh, you’re too kind. But I’m not sure if I need my hair done-”

“Of course you do! You’re gonna be beautiful.”

“It’s Halloween, you have to glam it up with me! I can’t be fabulous by myself!” Coco begged. 

“I’m sorry guys, I’m not one for the spotlight. I appreciate it though,” you gave them a tired smile, “I’ll be excited to see how yours turns out though. You will look amazing.” 

“That’s alright. Coco’s hair is gonna take forever anyway. This bitch can never sit still.” Mr. Gallant joked. 

“I’m gonna choke you.”

“I double dog dare you to do it.”

Coco smacked his arm playfully as Mallory rolled her eyes. 

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, though you didn’t dare to let them out. You really were going to miss them. Without thinking, you pulled all three of them into a tight hug.

“Uh-” Mr. Gallant began,

“Y/N?” Coco muttered.

“Just shut up and let me have this.” you said with a small laugh. They all scooted a bit closer and engaged in the group hug happily. You never wanted to let go of them but you knew that you had to. Tonight was going to be the night you departed from this place forever.

----

Music was booming throughout the halls. Laughter and hollering could be heard from the common room. It was hard to believe that you could hear it all from your room for the Outpost was never this loud. It was nice to know that everyone was having such a wonderful time. 

Instead of your normal dress, you had put on the pants and shirt you’d come in. It had been so long since you’d seen yourself in normal clothes. You were surprised that you’d found your old shoes as well. You took a deep breath, stopping to take a good look at yourself. You were sure that you were ready. 

Just as you leaned over to grab your bag, you smelled that strange floral scent that used to intoxicate your dreams. The room remained the same. Despite this, you could feel an overwhelming presence beside you. 

“Don’t leave. I’m coming.”

It was that damned mystery woman. 

“I-I have to go. It’s the only way.”

“You must stay. Trust me.”

“I don’t even know who you are! How in the hell am I supposed to trust you?”

“Yes, you do, my love. I’ll be arriving soon.”

“Who are you?” 

“You already know the answer to that.”

“Stop fucking with my head!”

“Y/N?”

You looked to your door. Wilhelmina looked very different. Her hair was up in a sleek ponytail. Rather than her usual black ball gown, she was dressed in a lavender pantsuit. She held on tight to her cane. Mina must have been a knockout before the apocalypse happened. You wished that you two had met in different circumstances. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah-” you stuttered, “let’s just go. Are you ready?”

Wilhelmina nodded. “I’ve taken care of the others, so we have to leave now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter. We have to go.” 

It scared you to hear her words. You loved Mina, but she still did cruel things in the past. She was known for killing others prior to your arrivals. You hoped to whatever God was out there that she hadn’t hurt anyone. 

The two of you rushed down the hall trying hard not to make a sound. You figured it would’ve been easier over the noise from the party, though to your surprise, the building had gone completely silent. This was the eeriest you’d ever seen the Outpost. Mina led you down the stairs and past the common room. Your eyes widened at the sight of the party. 

Michael was nowhere to be found. Bile and blood covered the tiled flooring. All of the residents were dead. You covered your mouth so you wouldn’t scream, but you were completely mortified. 

“Y/N, come on.”

“Mina- w-what happened to them?”

“We have to go, darling.”

“But, Mina-”

“I’m not arguing with you!” she snapped. She had never gotten snippy with you before. Though, you were sure it was only because she was scared. You couldn’t blame her. 

You continued to follow her until you reached the front of the Outpost. This was the hallway where you had first come inside. It seemed much more daunting to go outside rather than staying here. Mina took your hand. 

“Are you ready, my love?”

There was a small silence. You honestly weren’t sure. 

“I have to be.” 

She gave you a weary smile. You could tell that she wasn’t really sure about this either. But what choice did you have? 

“Come on. We have to get out the door before Michael notices that we’re gone.” 

Wilhelmina began to make her way toward the entrance. Just as you went to walk behind her, the door at the end of the hall swung wide open. A strong breeze whipped into the building as Venable covered her face with her elbow. 

“Oh, what now?!” She cried out. 

Though there was something stirring inside of you. You slowly stepped past Wilhelmina and gradually made your way toward the door. 

“Y/N! Get back!” Wilhelmina yelled. 

You couldn’t bother to hear her. Another softer breeze swirled around your body. That same intoxicating scent of flowers filled your nose. This time, it was all different. Your mind began to wander. 

Memories flooded back to you. Robicheaux, the coven, New Orleans, the pretty greenhouse you loved to study in, practicing magic with other women; it was all coming back to you. You could feel your veins surging with power. 

More memories came to you. That evening; Mallory was there. So was Coco. That mysterious woman faced you, and you could hear her voice clear as day.

 “I will come to see you as soon as I can. I promise that I will find you.”

“I can’t! Delia, I can’t be without you! P-Please!”

“Y/N, I love you more than anything. Please remember me.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as the breeze grew stronger. Everything made sense now. 

“Y/N, stay back! Jesus fucking christ-” Wilhelmina moved to rush to your side, but as the wind picked up, she noticed that you weren’t fighting any of this. You seemed different. Something in you had changed. 

All of a sudden, the wind stopped. The clicking of heels echoed through the doors. 

“What if we can’t find them?” A British accent rung out. 

“We will. They’re here, they have to be.” 

That voice. Your heart was racing. It was her. 

Three women entered the Outpost. They were all dressed in black. One, a younger blonde, had a concerned look upon her face. Another with bright red hair and thick glasses was keeping an eye out for enemies. The third woman was-

“Cordelia?” you whispered. 

It was the mysterious woman from your dreams. It was Cordelia Goode, Supreme of your former coven. She had finally come for you. Her gaze instantly met your own as a beautiful smile widened across her face. 

“My love.” Cordelia said through choked tears. 

It was really her. She had finally come for you.

REQUEST MORE IMAGINES HERE!

[yougetkilled-walkitoff]

Soulmark

Thor x Reader

Warnings: I don’t think there are any.

A/N: This is my first Thor x Reader story, so apologies if it’s not up to snuff.  I hope you enjoy it though!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thor thought he would never have a soulmate.  Everyone is born with a stripe on their left wrist, it looks almost like a bracelet, this stripe’s color correlates to the color of their soulmate’s hair.  But Thor never had his soulmark, he only had blank skin on his left wrist.  He would notice the pitying glances of those around him and do his best to ignore them, head held high.  After a while he did his best to ignore his left wrist.  He tried to ignore the anger and resentment he felt when he accidentally glanced down at his wrist.  He put on a brave show but that didn’t help the immense sadness he felt when he laid down to sleep, every night he would come up with more and more reasons as to why the universe decided that he was unworthy of a soulmate.  Maybe he was too angry?  Well, this soulmate situation definitely was not helping his anger issues.  Maybe he was too dangerous?  But even Loki had a soulmark.  Maybe he was just unworthy?  But if he was unworthy then why could he pick up Mjolnir?  There were too many questions and not enough answers.

He was wandering around the palace feeling depressed and upset, why couldn’t he have a soulmate?  What had he done wrong?  When he felt a slight tingling sensation around his left wrist, it was strange but not unpleasant.  When he glanced down to see what was happening he just stared in shock, mouth hanging open.  He had a brown stripe completely wrapping around his wrist.  Somehow, somewhere he had a soulmate!

Thor immediately ran to his mother, if anyone could make sense of this mystery surely she could.  He ran into his mother’s chambers, not even bothering to knock.

“Goodness Thor, what has gotten into you?”  Frigga asked, her hand flying to her heart.

“Mother look!”  Thor shouted, holding his left wrist out to her.  “I-I have a soulmark now!”

“Thank the stars.  I knew this day would come.”  Frigga looked relieved.

“But what can it mean?  Why would it show up only now?”  Thor asked, his excitement giving way to confusion.

“Here on Asgard the people are born already bearing the soulmark, but in a few of the other realms the soulmark appears only when the person’s soulmate is born.  Your soulmark must be following one of their traditions.”  Frigga explained.

Thor nodded.  “But how will I find them across the nine realms?”  Thor asked, despair evident in his voice.

“You will find them when the time is right.”  Frigga replied, trying to soothe her son.

Thor simply nodded, too overcome with all of his emotions to speak.

So Thor waited.  He waited for the time to be right, as his mother had said.  Ten years to the day after he had first received his soulmark he glanced down and then looked again in surprise, his brown soulmark had turned pink.  He could not understand what this meant, so he did the logical thing and ran to his mother again.  She explained that on some planets like Midgard the people would dye their hair different colors.

“But why?”  Thor asked, incredibly confused.  “Why would they damage their perfect hair?  Is it a sign of mourning?”

Frigga laughed gently, “No my son, it is not a sign of mourning.  It is generally a sign of happiness.  People in other realms will dye their hair to help express their emotions, or to express their individuality, or simply for pleasure.”

Thor nodded, he couldn’t help thinking that such traditions were strange.

It seemed to Thor that every few months his soulmark would change colors.  It was pink, and then blue, green, purple, red, silver, black, etc.  But the most fascinating to Thor was when his soulmark was different colors at once, sometimes it was varying shades of blue and purple, other times it was red, orange, and yellow, all at the same time.  His favorite was the pastel rainbow that seemed to be his soulmate’s favorite as well, it was fairly regular, sometimes switching to something else, but eventually it would become that lovely pastel rainbow again.  Sometimes he could watch the colors changing, other times he would simply wake up to a new color.  But he loved watching it change, he loved how creative his soulmate was and he was eager for the chance to meet them.

Thor was constantly annoying Heimdall, asking if he saw anyone who’s hair matched the current color of the band on his wrist.  Heimdall would always refuse to answer his prince’s questions about his soulmate, reminding Thor that it was forbidden for him to tell others of their soulmates.

But then something happened to distract Thor’s thoughts from the search for his soulmate, Loki attacked Midgard, and Thor was forced to travel there in order to retrieve his brother and stop him from hurting Midgard.  After he arrived he was reminded that Midgard is one of the planets where the people dye their hair when he saw several people walking down the street with strangely colored hair.  He was accustomed to seeing his soulmark change color, but it was entirely different when he saw their hair, it was so completely different from what he was familiar with.

After the attack on New York Thor stayed with the newly formed Avengers for a while.  One day he was strolling through the tower when he passed by Pepper Potts’ office.  He glanced through the glass walls and felt his heart stop short.  Sitting with her back to him, facing Pepper, was a girl with pastel rainbow hair, he couldn’t help his goofy smile, or the way that his heart seemed to be thudding a lot harder in his chest.  Then he noticed that Pepper was looking at him strangely and realized that he had been staring.  He quickly rounded the corner, but he couldn’t bear to leave, not if there was a chance that this girl was his soulmate.

After a few minutes Pepper and the girl walked out of the office.  “I’d love to hire you, Y/N, but I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to dye your hair to a natural color.”  Pepper was saying.

“That won’t be a problem, Ms. Potts, I don’t mind at all.”  She replied.

“Well then, welcome aboard Y/N.  I’ll schedule your orientation for tomorrow if you think you can dye your hair by then?”  Pepper replied.

“Certainly, I will do that straight away.”  She replied, shaking Pepper’s proffered hand and smiling widely.

The girl turned and walked away in the opposite direction from where Thor was standing.  Thor couldn’t stand to just let her walk away, so he quickly stepped out from where he had been “hiding” and followed the girl to the elevators.  She was waiting for the elevator when he caught up to her.  He then realized that he didn’t have a plan for what to say.  Fortunately for him she spoke first.

Turning to him she said, “Hello, you’re Thor, right?”

“Um, yes.”  Was all he could think to say.

“I’m Y/N.”  The girl replied.  The elevator arrived, and they entered it.

“It is very nice to meet you, Lady Y/N.”  Thor said, recovering himself.

“I was passing by Lady Potts’ office and it seemed as though she was conducting an interview.”  He said after a pause.

You nodded, “Yes, I was just hired.  I’m going to be your assistant.  Well, yours and the rest of the Avengers.”  You smiled.  Then you noticed Thor staring at your hair.  “I’m going to dye my hair, don’t worry about that, I’ll look like any other assistant.”

“No.”  Thor said quickly, and then carried on when you seemed a little taken aback.  “I love your hair, it is beautiful.”

“Oh, well thank you.”  You replied, a little uncertain of where this conversation was going.

“In fact,”  Thor continued hesitantly, “it reminds me of my soulmate, although I have yet to meet her.”

“Oh, well I’m sure you will meet her soon enough.”  You replied, placing a reassuring hand on his right arm.  He looked down at your hand, and you quickly removed your hand from his arm, smiling awkwardly.

The elevator finally reached the ground floor and you both exited it.  You turned to leave but Thor caught your arm with his left hand.  “Will I see you tomorrow?”  He asked.

You glanced down at his hand, and then did a double take, his soulmark matched your hair.  “Uh, yeah, yeah I’ll be here tomorrow.”  You said distractedly.

Thor nodded and released you.  “Then I look forward to tomorrow.”

You nodded and smiled at him, then left the building.

Thor smiled at your retreating figure, and then he shook himself and went in search of Pepper, he wanted to learn as much about you as he could.

Unfortunately for Thor, Pepper would not tell him anything about you.  So Thor spent a restless evening watching his soulmark and waiting for it to change color, he was curious to see if you really were his soulmate.  Eventually he fell into a peaceful sleep.  In the morning he had forgotten about the possibility of meeting his soulmate.  He spent his morning as usual, drinking coffee and eating a packet of pop-tarts, with playful banter back and forth among the team.

Later in the morning Pepper entered the living area of the tower where the team was lounging around.  She ushered you into the room and raised her voice to gain everyone’s attention.

“Good morning everyone, this is Y/N, she is going to be your assistant, please be nice to her.”

One by one she introduced you to the team, and when she reached Thor he finally got a look at the color of your hair, it was a lovely shade of auburn, he automatically glanced at his wrist and his soulmark was the same shade of auburn.  Thor was speechless, he had found his soulmate, he had actually found his soulmate.

You didn’t seem to notice, so Thor decided not to say anything in front of the team.  Tony led you on a tour of the Avengers’ floors of the tower, explaining where everything was and what all of the different rooms were for, all while laying on the charm.  Thor, who definitely was not following the pair, was growing more and more irritated by Tony’s advances towards you.  The only thing that saved Tony from bodily injury at the hands of Thor was the fact that you just laughed and did not seem to take Tony seriously.  After the tour Tony led you to your office and you were able to begin getting yourself situated.

Thor did his best to leave you be, but at lunch he found himself outside of your office again.  After wavering for a minute he knocked on your door.  “Lady Y/N?  I was wondering if you were hungry and if you would like to accompany me to the kitchen?”

“That sounds good, Thor, thank you.”  You smiled.  “Oh, and it’s just Y/N.”

“Very well, Y/N.”  Thor smiled and offered his left arm to escort you.  You glanced down at his wrist as you took his arm and gasped a little, but said nothing further.  Thor decided not to push you with his discovery, but he made up his mind to talk to you on the way back to your office after lunch, where there would be a little more privacy.

The both of you walked to the kitchen in companionable silence and you released his arm just outside of the kitchen, so that you could keep your air of professionalism.

During lunch you were content to simply watch the team and laugh softly at their antics.  After 45 minutes you decided that you had spent enough time on your lunch break and excused yourself to walk back to your office.  You were halfway back to your office when you heard a voice calling after you.  “Lady Y/N!”

You smiled and waited where you were, turning to see Thor striding towards you.

“Thor, how are you?”  You asked him, still smiling.

“I am well Lady Y/N.”  Thor said jovially.  “Actually, there is a matter I should like to discuss with you, if you have the time?”

“Of course Thor, and please, it’s just Y/N.  Would you like to speak in my office?”  You asked.

“I would!”  Thor replied.  After the two of you had entered your office and you had closed the door, he continued.  “Y/N, you may have noticed that my soulmark appears to match your hair color, and has done so twice.  I believe that you are my soulmate.”

You nodded and looked down.  “I noticed.  I’m just a little scared.”

“You are frightened?”  Thor asked, confused.  “Why are you frightened?”

“Well, I mean, you’re a god!  Why would you be interested in me?”  You replied quietly.  “Plus, what does this mean for my job?  I really need this job.”

“I hope that my being a god does not disappoint you, my Lady.  The universe has placed us together for a reason.  If you should like we could go on several “dates” as Midgardians call them and become better acquainted.  As for your job, I could speak to Lady Potts if you should like, us being soulmates should not affect your job.  Although I would prefer to serve you as opposed to you serving me.”  Thor declared.

“You being a god is not disappointing Thor, I am afraid that I am a disappointment for you.  I would love to go on dates with you.  And thank you, but I should probably explain this to Pepper myself, though it would be nice to have you with me.”  You said, still looking down.

Thor gently grasped your chin in his hand so that you would look at him.  “Y/N, I have been waiting for you for 1500 years, and I do not believe you could ever disappoint me.  I promise you that I will always do my best to treat you well and with the respect and love that you deserve.  I will also gladly accompany to speak with Lady Potts.”  Thor declared with the utmost sincerity.

You smiled up at him.  “I may have not been waiting for 1500 years, but I have been waiting for you my whole life.  I will always do my best to take care of you and care for you for the rest of my life.”  You told him with shining eyes.

Thor was so happy that he picked you up and spun you around once, before placing you back on the ground and pulling you into a warm embrace.  You laughed, and Thor thought he had never heard such a beautiful sound.

[lilacmoon83]

Lightning in a Bottle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 21: Snafu, Pt 1

Margaret looked in on Henry one more time that evening, finally satisfied that he was safe and out of danger for the moment. But she knew that might not hold for long and so she wasn't surprised to see her husband at the kitchen table, pouring over information on his laptop in an effort to find the missing passengers. He had his glasses on and was typing away, deep in his research. But that didn't mean he didn't sense her presence and he looked up, as she gently put a soothing hand on the back of his neck. He sighed and a bit of the stress ebbed away, just at that small gesture. He gently pulled her down into his lap and she kissed him tenderly.

"He's asleep and I'm surprised I haven't disturbed him by constantly checking his forehead for fever," she mentioned.

"I'm sure he wouldn't blame you after all we just went through," he said.

"Have you found anything?" she asked curiously.

"Actually…I think I might have," he replied, as he showed her a website on his laptop.

"JP Williamson?" she asked.

"They are the accounting firm that handles the finances for Unified Dynamic Systems," he clarified, as he pulled up a screen that said the application was accepted.

"You applied for a job?" she asked. He nodded and clicked to another page to show her the job description.

"It's entry level, but it will get me in the door and from there, I can improvise on how to gather more information," he explained.

"Oh baby...you are way overqualified for this position," she said. He chuckled.

"I know...but with me being a passenger, I'd never get anything with any level of security clearance in a company like this. If I get in though, I can find a way to access the information that could lead us to the missing passengers," he replied.

"It's a good plan...but it's risky. If you get caught...it could be really bad," she said worriedly.

"I know...but if it means saving our son, then I don't think I have much choice," he said. She nodded.

"I know...and I know you'd do anything for me or one of our babies," she replied, as she kissed him passionately.

"I'll be careful...I promise," he said, as they heard his e-mail chime. He clicked on the pop-up and found that he already had a response from the company.

"That was fast...I have an interview tomorrow morning," he said.

"Well...your resume is really impressive," she replied.

"Or they saw the name and are interviewing me out of sheer curiosity," he said.

"Maybe...either way, you might be in," she replied.

"Let's just hope this goes somewhere," he said, as he continued to hold her.

~*~

"I'm so glad you came for dinner tonight. I'm just sorry that Lily was a no show," Zoran mentioned, as they moved to the living room, following dinner.

"Me too...and that's okay. Lily and I can catch up later," Emma said, as she and Mal shared a glance.

"Don't worry honey...Lily will be home soon. You know our girl," Mal soothed, as she served some coffee.

"So...are you seeing anyone?" Zoran asked. Emma smiled and Mal chuckled.

"There used to be someone...but we're not together anymore," she replied. He frowned.

"Oh...that's too bad. You'll find someone," he assured.

"Maybe someday," she said, as her phone chimed and she saw that it was Killian. They had a case.

"Um...it's work. I'm afraid I have to go," she said, as she hugged Zoran and then she and Mal shared a hug.

"Don't be a stranger...come back soon," she said.

"You sure about that?" Emma asked.

"Positive. It helps him...a lot," she replied.

"And me too," she admitted. Emma managed a smile and a nod, before getting her coat.

"I'll see you soon," she promised, before leaving.

~*~

David rolled onto his back, as their breathing came in ragged gasps, following an intense bout of lovemaking. Margaret cuddled against his side and rested her head on his chest.

"That was a very...well conducted lesson, Professor Nolan," she said in a teasing tone, as she nuzzled his nose with her own.

"Well...you are a very good student," he teased back, as they shared a tender kiss.

"And you are going to do amazing at your interview in the morning," she promised.

"I don't know...what if I don't? You said it...I am overqualified for an entry level accounting clerk," he mentioned.

"Mmm...very true, because you are so skilled, but you are also very charming. I know you'll charm your way in the door," she said, while still nuzzling his chin.

"You think?" he asked.

"Mmm...oh I know, especially since you're doing this to save our son. I know that when it comes to protecting this family that you will always find a way," she replied. He looked at her in awe, humbled and amazed by her love and support.

"I won't let you or Henry down," he promised. She smiled gently.

"Letting us down isn't possible, my love, no matter what happens. You're our hero," she replied, as they shared a passionate kiss. They settled down then, thoroughly wrapped in each other's arms, and let sleep take them.

~*~

Emma got out of the car and met Killian outside the car repair shop where the crime had occurred. The Dark Star Pharmacy. Her mother had been killed on the other side of town, in a store not unlike this one and as she did a quick scan of the report, she knew why Killian had wanted her in on this. The victim had just lost his brother to senseless violence and probably needed an easy touch. They nodded to each other and went inside.

"Tom Clark?" she called to the middle aged man behind the counter.

"Yes…" he answered, as they approached.

"We're...here to talk to you about what happened to your brother," she said.

"I take it that you haven't caught the guy yet," Tom replied.

"Unfortunately no...that's why we're here. We're hoping any details you can provide will help lead us to the perpetrator," Killian said.

"Uh…I didn't see anything and the guy obviously knew what he was doing," Tom said.

"How so?" Emma asked.

"Because Stealthy was in charge of the security system and his murder happened just outside the range of the cameras," Tom replied.

"Stealthy?" Killian asked. Tom sighed.

"Sorry...that was his nickname, because he was so good at setting up security and exposing the vulnerabilities. So much so that me and our other brothers called him Stealthy," Tom explained. They nodded.

"Sometimes...even the smallest details are important, so even if you think it's not important, it might be," Emma said. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry...he was wearing a red hooded sweatshirt and didn't have a driver's license. Stealthy…" he said and then paused to correct himself.

"It's okay...you can call him by his nickname. Remember him how he was," Emma replied. Tom swallowed thickly.

"Stealthy was covering the register for me while I took a deposit to the bank. The guy didn't have a driver's license, so he wouldn't sell him a bottle of whiskey," Tom said.

"So...the guy just stabbed him and all I saw was a red blur rushing out of my store," he added. Emma nodded and then heard a heartbeat very loudly in her head. She stared at Tom for a moment, as she tried to discern why she was hearing this. Was it another calling?

"Emma...are you okay?" Killian asked. She snapped free of the sound and nodded to him.

"We actually think we have the guy, but we don't have a murder weapon. It appears to be missing. If you can give a positive ID, we can put him away though," Killian replied.

"I...I don't think I can," Tom said.

"If you don't, he may walk if we can't find a murder weapon," Emma warned, as their eyes locked and she gauged his reaction.

"I'm sorry...I wish I could," he replied.

We'll keep you posted on our investigation, Mr. Clark," Killian said, as they walked toward the door.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I don't think he's telling the truth," she replied.

"Why would he lie about knowing the killer?" Killian asked.

"I'm not sure...maybe he's scared," she replied, as she noticed the look of determination on the man's face. She heard the heartbeat again and then exited the store.

"Come on...we have a killer to find," she said, as they returned to their cars.

~*~

David, dressed in a suit and tie, with glasses on, walked into the headquarters for JP Williamson that morning. He was about to check in with the desk when he heard a voice.

"Ah…David Nolan, flight 828, back from the dead!" a shorter man, also with glasses, called, as he immediately shook David's hand with vigor and slapped him on the back.

"Uh...you must be Mister Brooks," David said.

"Samuel Brooks...your Supervisor, but everyone calls me Doc," he replied.

"Doc?" David asked, thinking that was a bit of an odd nickname for an accountant.

"Yeah...cause I'm kind of a numbers doctor," he boasted. David suppressed an eye roll. He was certain, though he never liked to boast himself, that he could run circles around this guy when it came to numbers.

"Right...cool nickname," he said instead. He had to turn on the charm, because he needed to get his foot in the door. Henry's life might depend on it, after all. His potential new supervisor scanned his badge and they got into the elevator, where Doc proceeded to hit the button for one of the top floors.

"So...was it aliens?" Doc asked. David looked at him and he started laughing, leading to David joining him in a chuckle.

"I'm afraid there were no aliens...that I was aware of anyway," David answered.

"Man...what a trip. Five years just gone like that," Doc said, as they exited the elevator and David followed him to an office.

David sat down across from him, while Doc seemed to peruse his resume.

"Wow...a master's in mathematics," Doc mentioned and David detected a slight hint that his potential new boss might be threatened by that.

"Uh...yeah, guess I'm kind of a numbers nerd," he mentioned, as the other man gave him a skeptical stare.

"This position you're applying for...I'm not sure it will be very challenging for someone like you," Doc mentioned.

"I realize that it's not my normal gig, but being the middle of the semester, I'm needing something to fill my time until a teaching position opens up at one of the Universities," David said.

"And since I'm up for the challenge, if there's extra work that you need done, then I'd be your guy," he added. This was exactly what he had been worried about, but then Doc smiled.

"Since you're the plane guy...let's give it a shot!" he said.

"Thank you...you won't regret this," David replied.

"Can you start today?" Doc asked.

"Of course," he replied.

"Okay...let's get you settled in," Doc said, as he led him to human resources to go through the rest of the onboarding process.

~*~

Margaret walked to the teacher's lounge to grab her lunch from the fridge that afternoon, while her class was at recess. But the moment she walked in and the chatter between a few of the other teachers stopped, she knew exactly what they were discussing. All eyes were on her and she could see the judgement in those eyes. They had seen her father's ludicrous grandstanding to the media and his version of her teenage years presented to the world. She steeled herself and ignored them, as she retrieved her lunch and then stormed back toward her classroom. She knew she shouldn't let what they thought bother her and for the most part, she didn't.

She knew what she and David had was special and when they were young, no one understood them and to this day, few still did. She opened her lunch sack and smiled, as she found a note. He had been leaving her love notes since high school and was still doing so. One of many hard things about the last five years had been the absence of those notes. Just one note from him could brighten even the worst day. She remembered High School and how she had been looked at by some of the teachers and counselors. It was reminiscent of the looks she had just gotten, even though she was a happily married woman. It was odd how things hadn't changed much for them in that respect. People either mistook their closeness for something weird, were jealous of their closeness and hated them for it, or just didn't understand it in general.

~*~

Flashback

Margaret sat down in the guidance counselor's office, as she closed the door and took a seat at her desk.

"Margaret...some of your teachers are concerned about you and have asked me to speak to you," Ruel Ghorm, the guidance counselor, said with a piercing gaze. Margaret rolled her eyes, knowing where this was going.

"Well…I can save you the time. I'm perfectly fine...and happy. My grades are good and I don't need your judgement, nor theirs," she replied defiantly.

"Margaret...I know what it's like to be young and think you're in love," the woman said.

"I don't think I'm in love, Ms Ghorm...I know I am. I know that none of you can seem to understand that, but I assure you that David and I are not just some ordinary teen couple," she said hotly.

"Margaret…" she started to chide.

"No...you may not believe in true love or soul mates, but we do. What we have is that once in a lifetime love that many only dream of finding. We may be young, but we're much more mature than most our age," she added, before standing up.

"And seeing that I am emancipated, you can give guidance, but you cannot make me give David up. No one can or will...and anyone that doesn't like that can go to hell," Margaret said, as she stormed out and ran right into someone. Fortunately, it was the man she loved.

"Whoa...where the fire, beautiful?" he asked playfully.

"No fire...just a stupid blue raincloud named Ms. Ghorm," she complained and he chuckled, as he put his arm around her shoulder.

"I know...I just got a talking to from Mr. Jones about teenage boys and hormones," he replied.

"They just don't understand...but I think I'm okay with that. I don't want people like that in our world anyway," she said. He smiled at her and kissed her tenderly.

"Me either...let's go home. It's Friday night so Em is spending the night at Lily's...so it's just us," he said, as she smiled at him.

"So I thought we could get a pizza and a movie or something," he mentioned, but she smiled slyly.

"Mmm...let's skip the movie and go straight to bed. Then we can order the pizza later," she whispered to him with a giggle.

"I love the way you think," he replied, as they left together, arms around each other, intent on shutting out the world for the weekend.

~*~

Margaret smiled at the memory and went about eating her lunch, while thinking about the man she loved.

~*~

David worked diligently on the work he had been given on his first day. Upon completion of the onboarding process, he was given an access badge and a cubicle. The work was easy and he completed it in much less time than someone else might have. He looked around to make sure no one was really paying attention and then pulled up the account search. He typed in Unified Dynamic System and wasn't surprised when a red banner popped up, denying his access. It simply stated that he didn't have the security clearance for that particular account. That meant he had to find a way to get access to a badge with a higher security clearance. That gave him an idea and he got up from his seat with his mug. He made his way into the kitchenette nearby and filled his mug with coffee. Seeing that he was alone, he microwaved his badge and then approached his boss' office.

"For some reason, my badge isn't working when I try to input my findings into the system for these accounts," David said to him. Doc's brow furrowed and he took the badge from him and tried scanning it on one of the door panels, finding it dead.

"That's odd...I'll take it down to human resources to get you a new one," Doc said.

"Is there something else you want me to do in the meantime?" David asked. Doc paused for a moment and David could tell he was trying to decide whether or not he trusted him.

"Here...use mine until we get yours fixed," he said.

"Thanks," David replied, flashing a charming smile.

"Only cause you're the 828 guy...don't tell anyone," Doc said, as he slapped him on the back. David smirked and hurried back to his cubicle. He was granted access this time and began to speed read what he could. That's when a name caught his eye. It was a name from the plane and he clicked on that. Glinda Good...he remembered that she was in just across the aisle from Regina. He saw his boss coming and quickly took a screenshot of the information on his phone, before closing the page and logging out.

"Here you go," Doc said, as he nodded and exchanged badges.

"I think I'll take my break," David said, as he made his way outside to call his wife.

"Hey…" he said, as she answered.

"Hey you...I've been thinking about you all day. I got your note," she said. He smiled.

"I'm glad...I hope it made your day better," he replied.

"It did, but I really want to know how your day is going," she said.

"Well…I microwaved my badge so it wouldn't work and conned my boss into letting me use his while he got me a new one," he explained.

"Wow...that's impressive on your first day," she mentioned.

"Well...he just happens to be obsessed with the flight. It's probably the only reason I got the job, but I found something. I'm going to send you a screenshot," he said, as he sent the photo.

"Glinda Good...should I know that name?" she asked.

"No...but she was on the plane and it turns out that she's involved with something called the Singularity project, which is funded by United Dynamic Systems," he replied.

"It says that she was nearly laughed out of the scientific community as a loon, but became a hit in the spiritual realm for her research into mirror neurons and human brain connectivity," Margaret said, reading from the photo.

"Sound familiar?" he asked.

"Do you think she's behind everything?" Margaret asked.

"I don't know...but she is hosting a conference tonight. Are you up for it?" he asked.

"Are you kidding? Of course! Though we should probably ask Regina to come too," she replied.

"I was thinking the same thing. I'm going to call her next," David said.

"I'll tell Ollie we need her to watch Henry and then I'll be ready when you get home," Margaret replied.

"I love you...especially for following along with all this craziness and going with me to some boring conference," he said.

"I love you too and we're doing this craziness together. Plus…I don't care what we're doing in our evenings, as long as we're together," she replied.

"I'll see you soon," he said, as he hung up his phone and turned back to the building. He sighed and went back inside. The work was mind numbing for him, but hopefully, he would only have to put up with it for a short time.

[paradisobound]

Behind Hazel Eyes: Part 1

Summary: Dan’s known Lucas since college and he’s never been so convinced that two people are meant to be together. He loves Lucas more than anything. But when news report of a serial killer striking around the town, Dan begins to notice signs in Lucas that leave him nervous. With the help of his newfound friend Phil, Dan pieces together the parts of Lucas that he somehow missed before anyone else loses their lives--and before Dan loses his own. 

Warnings: serial killer, blood mentions, horror, disturbing content. Please heed all warnings

Word Count: 3.9k this part

**Read on Ao3**

A/N: Welcome to my version of Spookyweek where I’m posting a new installment of this fic every day until Halloween! First part is today, second is tomorrow, and third part is Halloween! This is a dark fic, and it takes some dark turns so please heed all warnings! I had a lot of fun writing this and it was something totally out of my comfort zone but I think I really executed it well. Hope you all enjoy if this is what you’re into!

“The News is sad to report tonight that the infamous Western Valley Serial Killer has appeared to strike again at an apartment complex in downtown Rockwell. 22 year old Ashton Johnson has been identified as the next victim in this horrific string of violence. We have no other details at this time. The police are still asking the public to help identify the killer by calling in any leads you may have. A sketch of the killer has been released the police are asking for anyone to come forward if you think you know who they are…” 

The sound of the news droned on in the background as Dan laid in bed, his body covered by the soft throw. It was a warmer early spring night, and while his apartment was cooled by an air conditioner, the air still held enough moisture to make his skin sticky and damp. If it wasn’t for his knack of only being able to fall asleep with a blanket on, he’d be well better off. 

He turns onto his side and reaches for the TV remote just in time to hear the front door open and shut with the distinctive creak that Dan has been asking his landlord to fix since he moved in. Footsteps become louder and louder and Dan looks up just in time to see his boyfriend stood in the doorway and his lips curl up in a smile. 

“You’re still awake?” 

Dan scoffs at Lucas and turns onto his back, reaching over and tugging at the chord of the bedside light and finding the switch to turn it on. The dull yellow light floods the room and Dan sees the way Lucas’s brown hair falls a bit flat on top, much different to how he styled it before he left to go out that night. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Dan asks, maneuvering himself so he’s not sitting up, the throw coiled on his lap. 

“Hm?” Lucas hums, walking over to the bed and sitting down. He places his hand on Dan’s arm and rubs up and down. “Well, it’s well after midnight and you have to work in the morning.” 

“I can still get up at eight.” Dan says. “You seem to forget that I used to be up until 4 in the morning pacing the floors of my dorm and I’d still make it to class at eight thirty.” 

“Barely.” Lucas says. He leans over and presses a soft and gentle kiss to Dan’s cheek. “I need to go and shower but try and fall asleep before I’m out?” 

Dan finds himself nodding and Lucas leans down and kisses his forehead. As he backs up off from the bed and stands up, he turns around and Dan sees the way he stops and watches the TV for a moment. 

“Police are now saying this is the work of the Western Valley Serial Killer. The victim tonight had the same carved inscription on the inside of their thigh as the other three young males who met the same fate. Police are continuing to ask the public…” 

“I can’t believe they haven’t caught him yet.” 

Dan looks up at Lucas. Lucas turns to him and pushes his brown leather jacket off from his arms, leaving just a white teeshirt underneath. “Who? That guy?” 

Lucas nods. “Sick fucking dude.” 

Dan nods and quickly reaches over and grabs the remote, turning off the TV. He didn’t like hearing about it and he didn’t feel like talking about it. The idea of someone being out there doing these heinous crimes made Dan feel a bit paranoid about his own safety. 

Lucas undresses the rest of the way and leaves his clothes in a pile at the end of their bed as he walks to their ensuite bathroom and closes the door behind him. Dan lays down in bed, pulling the soft throw over his body once more. 

When he reaches over and shuts the light off, the sound of the shower running in the bathroom keeps him a bit calmer. According to the news reports, the killer has been striking at apartment buildings and manipulating his way into young men’s apartments, only to sexually assault them and then kill them before they can get away. Every time the news reports that another victim was found, Dan feels a bit more sick inside. But he has Lucas to protect him. He knows that. But he still doesn’t fall asleep until long in the night, after Lucas has already climbed into bed and wrapped his body around his own. 

When he wakes up in the morning, his eyes have telltale dark circles underneath and he feels way too drowsy to drive. But he gets in his car and heads off to the library anyway to begin his shift. 

He’s greeted by Mary, the kind older woman who shouldn’t still be working at the library but Dan knows that she means well. It’s not her fault that sometimes she stamps the wrong part of their forms for library loans or she writes the date as something way off. He knows that she loves the library more than her own life and that’s okay with him to work with her. 

“We have a new applicant for the summer position.” Mary tells him, her voice a bit shaky as she moves a stack of books delicately from one end of the counter to the other. “He seems well and like he’d be a good fit while I’m out.” 

Dan has already been through probably thirty applications for Mary’s position while she’s out of work to visit her family in Florida for three months. But none of the applications were anything spectacular. Dan would read one after another and see the same candidate in each one: a young teenager who just wants a summer job to have a reason to make money. And although Dan isn’t opposed to actually hiring someone like that―he’d been a teenager once as well―he would still rather work with someone who is serious about the position. 

“What is their name?” He asks, already moving to the computer to look at the email for the library. 

“Philip, I believe.” She says. She picks up the stack of books she had just moved and sets them down on a cart on the other side of the counter. “I’m going to go and put these away now.” 

Dan nods in her direction and pulls up the email with the application. He looks it over and is immediately stricken at the fact the fact that this guy was 28 and applying for this position. Dan was 25 himself and he would much rather work with someone who was 28 than someone who was 16. As he read the application, he found that Phil, as his application asked him to be called, actually had a library science certification and was a recent employee for a public library downstate. The fact that the guy had experience and was also rightfully certified for the position was extremely intriguing to Dan and he quickly took note of his number by writing it on a sticky note. 

He minimized the application and walked down the counter to the phone that sat on the end. He picked up the receiver and dialed Phil’s number. It rang a few times and just as Dan thought someone was going to answer, the line cut off and Phil’s voicemail began. When it beeped, Dan let out a sigh and then began his message. 

“Hello, this is Daniel Howell calling from Western Valley Public Library. I have looked at your application and I would love for you to come in for an interview if possible. You can call me back at 347-222-9736. Thank you.” 

Dan puts the receiver down and sucks in a breath. He really hopes that Phil calls them back because even though he wouldn’t mind hiring 17 year old Heather, he’d much rather hire Phil who is actually qualified. 

Dan spends the rest of his morning looking through the list of loans that other libraries have requested from their collection and he spends most of his time taking note of each title and then finding it on their shelves, most containing a thin layer of dust. He’s busy dusting them off and sticking a label in the inside of what school or library it’s going to when the phone rings beside him and he quickly stands up from his stool and rushes over. 

“Western Valley Public Library, how may I help you?” 

“Hi. This is Phil. You called earlier about an interview but I was busy and didn’t make your call. Is it okay to still schedule an interview?” 

Dan feels his lips curl into a smile and he quickly rushes over and grabs a pad of sticky notes and a pen before he settles down, resting his elbows on the counter. 

“When can you come in?” 

They decide on an interview the end of this week and Dan finds it quite strange that he already cannot wait to conduct it. He doesn’t know if he’s excited because he gets to do it himself this time or that he’s just eager to meet someone new after just working with Mary these last three years with no one else around. 

When Dan was first hired here, it was by total accident. He was fresh out of college with nothing more than a philosophy degree and he felt lost. He didn’t know what to do or where to go but Lucas helped him. Lucas knew his great-aunt worked for the public library system and he managed to get Dan a job here a the library. There had been many other workers in the library years prior but budget cuts left them with just enough money to pay both Mary and himself. It was a miracle that this library is even open. Dan hardly sees anyone ever actually come here. 

By lunch time, the library is getting ready to close at two today and he’s gearing up to take his lunch to the meeting room and eat when he realizes he didn’t even have it with him. He must have never grabbed it from the fridge at home before he left. 

He’ll beat himself up for it later, but right now, he’s stood at the counter, looking at the empty library as Mary stands around and dusts off shelves, not even bothered. He’s pretty sure she didn’t even hear him when he told her Phil was coming in for an interview this week. 

Dan takes a seat on the stool and scribbles a bit on his sticky notes when the door to the library opens and he looks up to see that all too familiar brown leather jacket. His lips pull up in a big smile and he walks around the counter to meet Lucas half-way. 

“What are you doing here?” Dan asks. “Shouldn’t you be at college?” 

“You forgot your lunch so I thought I’d bring it to you here before I went to my seminar.” Lucas leans forwards and presses his lips lightly against Dan’s. “I would never get through my criminal offenses seminar knowing I never brought my hubby his food.” 

Dan feels his cheeks blush as he looks between them at the brown paper bag in Lucas’s hand that contains his half-assed made PB and J sandwich and a Tupperware container of fruit. It’s an embarrassing meal, but it’s all he has time to make and really, it’s all he can afford to make being the only one to make money between him and Lucas. 

But Lucas was studying to pass the Bar exam in just six months time and Dan didn’t want to impose on that. Not when Lucas has been studying for this moment for as long as Dan has known him. 

“You didn’t have to do this.” 

“But I wanted to.” Lucas pressed, his arm coming up and snaking it’s way around Dan’s waist. “I have to get going if I want to get a parking spot and make it to seminar in time but I’ll see you at home later. Love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

They kiss one last time as Dan takes hold of his paper bag lunch from Lucas and then waves goodbye as he walks back out the door. 

“Was that Frances, Dan?” Mary called from the counter as she set her cleaning supplies down. 

“His name is Lucas, Mary. Remember?” He asks with a laugh. 

Mary waves it off and Dan snickers a bit more as he tells her he’s going to take his lunch and he retreats to the meeting room. 

Dan gets home from the library at around three and he finds himself trying to tidy up some of the mess that Lucas had left behind that morning. There were random files and notes thrown all over their coffee table and Dan even found some torn out textbook pages under the couch. He puts them all into a neat little pile and puts them off to the side just in time to sit down and rest his feet. 

He grabs the remote for their TV in the living room and turns it on to see that the channel was on the news station. Dan rolled his eyes, because he didn’t feel like watching the news but the story caught his eye.��

The sketch of the Western Valley Serial Killer was on his screen and he was staring at it. Underneath the sketch was a description of them and Dan reads off the bullet points in his head. 

6 Foot tall

Roughly 200 pounds 

Dark brown hair and dark eyes 

Slight stubble around chin 

Athletic build 

Dan reaches for the remote and switches the channel as fast he can, trying to get the image out of his head of this guy walking around and preying on innocent people. His stomach tightens into a knot and he finds it hard to not think about anything but that as he eventually finds an episode of Fixer Upper to try and clear his thoughts. 

He watches a few episodes of Chip and Joanna before he hears the telltale signs of keys in the front door and the door pushes open to reveal Lucas on the other side. He has a plastic bag full of what looks like Chinese food and Dan’s stomach gives a hungry growl. 

“Hope you don’t mind that I picked up Chinese for dinner.” Lucas says, setting the bag on their kitchen counter. 

Dan stands up from the couch and walks over to him, leaning his hands onto the counter. “What did you get me?” 

“Sesame Chicken with Lo Mein.” Lucas says, pulling it out the bag and setting the foil container onto the counter. 

“You know me so well.” Dan comments with a laugh as he leans forward and kisses his cheek. Lucas stiffens for a second, and Dan pulled back a bit quicker than he wanted to. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t help but see the way Lucas’s demeanor shifted at the kiss. 

But he didn’t say anything about it. And neither did Lucas. 

“You’ve only ever ordered the same thing since freshman year.” Lucas says, pulling out his food next and crumbling the bag, throwing it into the garbage can. 

Dan nods curtly and forces a smile as he grabs the hot container and takes it to their table where he sits down with a plastic fork and opens up the top, digging into it. 

They eat mostly in silence but that’s more common than Dan would like to admit. Normally its because they’re both so busy eating, they just forget to speak. But other times it’s just because they have nothing to say to the other. Dan sadly feels like it’s the latter tonight. 

When they’re done, Dan helps Lucas pick up everything and then he goes to the living room and pulls out his laptop to scroll social media while Lucas grabs at the pile that Dan had picked up and begins to paw through it again. 

“How was your day?” Dan asks. 

“Stressful.” Lucas says without any hesitation. “I’m so ready to take this fucking exam and be done with it. At this point, I don’t even feel like I can pass it.” 

“You’ll do fine.” Dan says, turning himself to face Lucas. “You’re smart and more than capable of passing the exam.” 

Lucas lets out a breath. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m even doing this.” 

“You want to be a lawyer.” Dan says. “You told me that it’s something you’ve dreamed of doing since you knew what a lawyer was. Don’t give up on that dream just because times are getting rough.” 

Lucas sighs and runs his hands through his hair, brushing it back onto his head before it falls back to it’s normal quiff-like position. “I’m sorry if I’m being cynical.” He says. “I just never anticipated everything to be this difficult.” 

“But you got this.” Dan says, putting his laptop down onto the coffee table and moving closer to Lucas. “You’ve got it in you to pass this exam and you’re going to make the best damn defense attorney that has ever lived.” 

Lucas turns his head and his lips are curled up into a slight smirk. “You’re the most amazing person.” He says, his hand coming out and resting on Dan’s jaw. “I’ll never understand how I got so lucky.” 

“I can say the same for myself.” 

Lucas leans forward and kisses Dan, his lips drawing the breath from Dan’s lungs. Dan whimpers and reaches out, pressing his hand against Lucas’s bicep to steady himself as Lucas deepens the kiss. 

They take it to the bedroom and Dan is soon on his back with Lucas between his legs and he’ll never get over how amazing sex is with Lucas. How caring and gentle he is but also how rough he is when he wants to be. His fingertips leave bruises on Dan’s hips but the slight tingle left in their aftermath only makes Dan enjoy them more. 

When Lucas stands up to use the restroom, Dan notices red marks on his back and while he didn’t think he’d dug his nails into Lucas’s back, he still finds himself looking at the tops of his fingers for any burrs on them. 

Lucas climbs back into bed beside Dan a few moments later but Dan is far too tired to comment on the scratches so he doesn’t. He just closes his eyes and falls asleep for a short time before waking up at just before midnight and realizing he’s fucked his sleep schedule once again. 

Dan can’t fall back asleep and it burdens him as he gets up at just half past midnight and walks out of their bedroom, Lucas still asleep on the bed. He makes his way into the kitchen and opens their fridge thinking that maybe a midnight snack might make him feel a bit better. 

When nothing seems to grab his attention, he moves to their freezer and opens it up to search inside. He finds a half-empty pint of Ben and Jerry’s and pulls it out, opening the lid to make sure it wasn’t frost bit. He sets the lid off to the side on the counter and opens their silverware drawer and pulls out a spoon. 

He meanders his way back into the living room and plops down onto the couch again, reaching out to grab at the remote for the TV and turn it on. He presses the power button and just as the TV comes to life, the same local news station is highlighting the screen and Dan feels his heart race. 

“Western Valley Police will be holding a press conference this morning at 9am regarding the Western Valley Serial Killer. Police say that they have some new information that they are withholding from releasing until the press conference tomorrow. Police are still encouraging anyone to come forward with any…” 

“You’re still watching this shit?” 

Dan jumps, his shoulders rising up as he gasps and drops his unused spoon onto the floor by his feet. He quickly turns his head and sees Lucas standing behind him, a pair of tight boxer briefs covering his hips and his arms folded over his chest. His hair was slightly mussed up and Dan felt it hard to not feel a bit jolted at seeing him standing there. 

“It was just what was on when I turned the TV on.” Dan mumbles, reaching for the remote again. 

“It’s such a sad, pathetic thing.” Lucas comments, moving around the side of the couch and sitting down beside Dan. “Like what heartless fucking monster would do that?” 

Dan shrugs. “A pretty bad one.” 

Lucas scoffs. “Turn the channel, babe.” He says, his voice harsh. “I don’t want to watch this shit right now.” 

Dan turns the channel as fast as he can and they eventually end up on Adult Swim, watching some episode of Rick and Morty. His pint of Ben and Jerry’s remains long forgotten, melted on the coffee table next to the soiled spoon. Sometime about an hour later, he finds himself curled onto Lucas’s bare chest, his eyes falling closed. 

When he wakes up to Lucas leaving before the sun even comes up, he doesn’t question it. He just closes his eyes, and falls asleep again on the couch, curled up in a blanket that he didn’t put on himself. 

[winterisakillerwrites]

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Fifteen

Chapter: 15/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: M

Author’s Notes/Warnings:  This is part nine of Last Minutes & Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

Previous

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Exhausted, Tom stumbled into the darkened room and let himself drop carelessly onto the large, unmade bed. He turned, burying his face into the rumpled pillows and groaned. God, he was tired. It had been a whirlwind of a day and all he wanted to do now was sleep for at least a year. More if at all possible. He’d been at this for nearly a week now; running interview to interview, answering the same handful of questions asked in slightly differing ways. Though the excitement of the first few stops on this, admittedly, chaotic promotional tour had slowly but surely began to fade, he was still excited to talk about the film. It had been a grueling shoot, long hours and frequent reshoots, but he was extremely proud of what he and his co-stars had created and could not wait to see the reaction it would receive.

 He rolled over onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. He had the next seven hours completely free; a wonderful yet daunting prospect. He should sleep, god he wanted to sleep, but something told him that no matter how badly he wanted it, sleep would be more than a bit elusive. His mind though choked with exhaustion wouldn’t seem to keep quiet. It kept replaying; the feel of her lips on his, her soft yet firm body pressed against his, the feel of her silky hair between his fingers, the way her breath hitched as he pulled her closer to him. Every detail flashed through his mind, bright and clear.

 An involuntary shiver ran through him. It was both heaven and hell. They hadn’t talked properly since that night and it was eating him alive. Far too often he found himself checking his phone during any spare moment, hoping for a call or at least a text. Something, anything; but as it stood it had been over a week and nothing. He could call her, open that line of communication himself and he had been sorely tempted to, but with this he knew that if there was a move to be made, it should be on Rosemary’s part. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, push her into anything; not again. He’d learned that lesson far too well. If they were going to try for something more it would be on her insistence or not at all. It was a gamble, that he was well aware. And it was his heart on the line, but Tom knew that if he pushed there was a very real chance he could lose her completely. And that, that was not an option. So he would wait and he would hope. He let out a sigh, closing his eyes once again and praying sleep would claim him, if only for a little while.

 Several hours later he was brought crashing back into consciousness by a blaring noise. Heart pounding in his chest, it took him several moments to realize that the horrifically loud sound was in fact his phone. He laughed despite himself, shaking his head as he pushed off of the bed and stumbled through the darkness towards the dresser where he had emptied the contents of his pockets upon entering the room. His phone sat, face down on the dresser. Flipping it over revealed a waiting text message. From Luke. He groaned aloud before tapping the screen and opening the message.

 ‘Interview tomorrow moved up from 0900 to 0830. You’ll be paired with Donna. Car will be by at 0745. Coffee will be waiting J’

 Tom typed back a short thank you in response as he walked slowly back to the bed, tossing his phone onto the rumpled bedclothes. A quick glance at his watch told him it was that time of the night which was both stupidly late and stupidly early. He dropped his head into his hands and let out a low groan. He was very much awake now and at the moment any real chance of falling back asleep seemed utterly hopeless. He let his weight fall back onto the bed. His head was still foggy with sleep and the disappointment he’d felt at seeing Luke’s name and not Rosemary’s was difficult to ignore or dismiss.

 With a groan he pushed himself upright once again and fumbled at the bedside table for the television remote. He’d never been one for television but at this point any distraction would do. After three disappointing turns around the available channels he finally settled on a cooking show, some competition that looked far more intense than any cooking program ought to be. He couldn’t say what was happening on the show but the noise was distraction enough.

 Tom blinked rapidly as his phone chimed again and he groped blindly on the bed for it. Hitting the side button to unlock the screen, he stared at the waiting message. ‘Car’s here.’ He blinked in confusion before glancing at the top of the screen for the time. 0745. “What?” He breathed in disbelief. That couldn’t possibly be right. He rubbed his eyes and checked the screen again. Fuck, it was right. He must have dozed back off. Thank god he’d heard his phone.

 Cursing, Tom glanced down at his attire, rumbled from wear and sleep. Shit. Shit. Double shit. He didn’t have time for a shower but he had to change. Scrambling off the bed and onto his feet and tore through the outfits he’d hung in the closet. Taking the first one his fingers touched, Tom wasted little time stripping and redressing, not caring if the suit trousers and button up shirt matched perfectly with the shoes he’d slammed his feet into. Grey goes with everything, he told himself. He managed to wash his face and brush his hair and teeth and make it down to the waiting car by five after. He smiled briefly at the driver, apologizing profusely for his tardiness and slammed the door shut.

 Traffic was mercifully light and they pulled into the studio lot with fifteen minutes to spare. Luke stood at the side entrance with an intern from the television studio. His blue suit was impeccable as always, but the tie around his neck had been loosened; a sure fire sign that Luke was more than a little on edge. Tom climbed out of the car and waved off the driver before jogging up to the two waiting men. His publicist shook his head and chuckled. “Cutting it rather close there, Hiddleston.”

 “But I made it, Windsor,” Tom shot back. The small group made their way inside the building and through a hallway towards the elevators. He found himself tapping his foot to the beat of the song playing from the tinny speakers. A pop hit from sometime in the last decade; one that he recognized but couldn’t name. Once on the studio floor, Tom was rushed through hair and make-up and at twenty-five after he found himself sitting in front of a blue screen with Donna Jacobs waiting for their interviewer to arrive.

 Donna was incredibly bubbly for the early hour; more so than he’d seen her in quite some time. She was talking jovially about something that Tom, admittedly, had not been paying an ounce of attention to. She paused halfway through her story to ask him a question and he’d, much to his chagrin, had to ask her to repeat herself. Donna had laughed and repeated her question with good grace. It still hadn’t made any sense and he found himself staring blankly at her, feeling like a complete tit. Guilt coursed through him; he really hadn’t been paying Donna any mind at all as she spoke. It was exceedingly rude of him and not at all like him.

 He liked Donna; she had been a blast to talk with on long shoots, full of humor and a fair bit of biting sass. She was smart as a whip and hardworking, playing opposite her had been a delight. They’d gotten along well and it had been wonderful to catch up with her during the promotional work. She deserved his full attention, but between his exhaustion and worry he couldn’t seem to give it.

 “Jesus, Tom,” she laughed, nudging him affectionately with her shoulder. “You aren’t listening to a word I’ve been saying are you?”

 He shrugged, a sheepish smile spreading across his tired face. “Sorry. I’ve had an off night.”

 Donna laughed in earnest. “You? Off? Never.”

 Tom opened his mouth to retort but was cut short by the arrival of the woman conducting this particular round of interviews, “Cara Thomas,” she stated, hand held out for both to shake. She was a relatively tall, thin woman with dark brown hair and bright, lively blue eyes. Her skirt suit was a charcoal grey and well-tailored. She smiled brightly at them both before settling herself into the remaining chair. Cara made pleasant small talk with the two actors while the camera crew finished setting and checking their equipment; asking them how they found the city and if they’d had any chance to get out to see the sights. Donna fizzed with excitement as she talked with Cara about a small museum she’d found not too far from her hotel Tom nodded and smiled along. After the all clear was given, they settled in their respective seats as Cara began her introductions.

 “Hello, I’m Cara Thomas and this morning I’m sitting here with the stars of the new dramatic thriller, The School of Mist, Tom Hiddleston and Donna Jacobs. Welcome both of you.”

 “Thank you for having us, its lovely to be here,” Tom answered with warm smile.

 Donna smiled and nodded, “Yes, thanks so much.”

 Cara leaned forward, question cards resting on her lap. “So what can you tell us about this new film? What drew each of you to it?”

 Tom and Donna took turns discussing what they could of the film’s plot; a story centering on Tom’s character, Mark, a recent widower with a young son who discovers through a frightening twist of events that his late wife, Claire, was not all she seemed. He spoke of how he’d been drawn to the emotional journey the story took Mark on. How he’d been on the edge of his seat when reading the script and was absolutely thrilled when the part had been offered to him. Donna spoke of her character, Helen, who was a colleague of Mark’s who unwittingly became tangled in the dangerous web weaving around Claire’s past and how she’d pestered her agent for weeks to get her an audition.

 “Helen’s a smart, no nonsense woman who is thrown for a loop, along with Tom’s character, Mark, and finds herself caught up in something so much bigger than she is. I loved her from the moment the script crossed my path, I wanted to get in her head and solve the puzzle she found herself caught up in. Plus,” she added with a good natured laugh and nudge of her elbow, “working alongside this goof was a definite perk.”

 Tom touched his hand to his heart in a reflexive gesture and smiled, whispering as an aside, “She was an absolute nightmare.” He broke off with a quick laugh and continued, “But in all seriousness, Donna is a delight to work with. She is an absolute gem to play off of and a fantastic foil for my character’s confused floundering.”  

 He rambled on in his usual fashion and, despite it being far from the first time he talked about the film and his character, he enjoyed being able to share his thoughts and experiences. This film had been a frustrating but rewarding endeavor and he was thrilled to finally be able to share it.

 The rest of the day passed in very much the same manner; a fair deal of laughter and stories mixed amongst the same standard questions as the next round of interviewers paraded through. He fought against the impulse to check his phone at every conceivable break point, but it was a very near thing. Donna had quickly caught onto his twitchiness and after chuckling to herself over it called him out. “You are practically vibrating where you sit, what in the world is going on?”

 He scrubbed his face with his hand and groaned softly. “It’s a long story…” he started, laughing to himself. That sounded the worst sort of cliché, but he honestly wasn’t sure how else to put it. Not without making him sound like he was possibly going out of his mind. Maybe I am, he thought with a sigh.

 Donna cocked an eyebrow, “It’s always a long story.” She patted the chair beside her. “Now sit and spill. We’ve got another twenty minutes before they spring us for the day and I’m all ears.”

 Tom lowered himself onto the proffered chair and took a deep breath. “Just…worrying over something I have little control over.”

 “That’s a non-answer if I’ve ever heard one.” She shot him a knowing look. “So the way I see it, Hiddleston, you’re about as tense as I’ve ever seen you. I’m surprised you’ve not popped a lens with how often you’ve taken off your damned glasses to clean them. And let’s not get started on the wrinkled mess you’ve made of your shirt. Hell, looking at you is giving me an ulcer. So what’s got you tied up in knots? Girl trouble?” She paused, smiling, and when he didn’t respond continued on. “Boy trouble?” She waggled her eyebrows at him and he cracked a small smile.

 He sighed, “It’s…complicated.”

 Donna snorted. “Complicated, huh? Which if my male to English translation is up to scratch means you did something stupid and you are currently awaiting forgiveness.”

 Tom laughed despite himself. “Yes and no.” He paused, pulling of his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. “There is…someone. We aren’t together but we used to be…I made a series of exceeding poor choices during the time and things…It didn’t end well. We reconnected a few months back and are friends…Or trying to be.” He knew he was rambling and couldn’t for the life of him stop. It was risky, opening up like this. That was something he knew all too well. But he trusted Donna. She wasn’t the sort to run straight out and share any and everything she heard. He didn’t think she would change now. But still…“Things have been complicated. We…There is something there still, I think…I hope…I don’t know. But before I left we…Lines were crossed and she…She asked for time and it’s been well over a week now and I’ve heard nothing. I want to give her that. I know I need to give her that. I’ve pushed before…And it’s never ended well. But I…I want to know where we stand, I want to know if this hope I’ve got is all in vain or if, just maybe, there is a chance.”

 Beside him Donna was uncharacteristically quiet and it unnerved him far more than he wanted to admit. Cautiously, he raised his head and turned to face her. She smiled warmly at him and let her hand fall briefly on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Well that is not the most…hopeful thing I’ve heard.”

 He felt his heart plummet at her words. At someone else’s voice echoing what his mind had been none too gently shouting at him for days now. “Oh.”

 “…But it’s not the least either,” she continued. “You’re doing the right thing, trying to be patient and letting her go at her own pace. Listening to her is ridiculously important and honestly will go a long way to making things right.” She squeezed his shoulder again. “But sometimes people need to be pushed, even if it’s just to get them to open up. So be patient but don’t be passive. If you wait too long for her to figure out what she wants and don’t try to at least talk with her, you might find one day it’s just a tad too late.”

 Tom nodded silently, letting her words sink in. She had a point, of course she did. Donna was nothing short of uncanny with her insight. She was young, yes, but by no means did that mean she wasn’t observant or insightful. She’d seen a lot and wasn’t afraid to call things as they were. It was one of the many things he’d sincerely liked about her.

 “Mr. Hiddleston? Ms. Jacobs? Your cars are here.” Tom looked up to see an intern standing in the doorway, clipboard in hand. The same young man from that morning, if he wasn’t mistaken. Josh. Nodding at him, Tom stood and grabbed his coat. He turned and waited for Donna to grab her things before both followed Josh down to the lobby and their waiting vehicles. He bid Donna good night and climbed into his waiting car, grateful to have made it through another day. Only a week and a half more of this and he would be home.

 Once settled in the car, Tom leaned back into the seat, enjoying the softness of the smooth leather, and closed his eyes. For someone who spent the day mainly sitting and talking, he was ridiculously exhausted. Not really sleeping the night before really didn’t do you any favors, his mind retorted. Maybe sleep won’t prove so elusive tonight. He sighed, hoping that would be the case. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, the car was pulling to a stop.

 He’d blinked in confusion as he heard a voice call.  “Mr. Hiddleston, we’ve arrived.”

 Tom shook his head in a vain effort to rouse himself enough to climb out of the car and make his way to his room. The lobby was relatively empty, a blessed gift, only a scattered handful of people milling about the sparsely decorated open room. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to interact with fans, he enjoyed talking with people and hearing their stories, he just wasn’t sure he had he energy for it. Not then. And the last thing he wanted was to be short with anyone; the fallout from such a thing would not be worth it in any way, shape, or form. He made his way quickly to the elevators and then up to the twentieth floor and his room.

 Once again, he emptied his pockets on the wooden surface of the dresser. His next stop was the bathroom where he made quick work of stripping down and jumped into the shower. He set the water as hot as he could stand it, wincing at the heat before allowing himself to simply relax. He relished in the warmth of the water, lingering under the spray far longer than he normally would after making sure his body and hair were clean. He could feel the tension of the day slowly start to fall away. He finally managed to drag himself out of the shower nearly twenty minutes later, clean of body and renewed of spirit.

 Towel around his waist, Tom wandered back into the main room and fumbled through his suitcase for a clean pair of pajama bottoms; a blue checked pair that he’d long since lost the matching top for. He finished drying himself and pulled them on, stumbling from one foot to the other to keep his balance. He rubbed his hair vigorously with the towel before tossing it back into the bathroom, he really should hang it up to dry but couldn’t seem to find it in himself to do so.

 The beep of his phone caught his attention as he lumbered his way back to the bed. He stopped and flipped it over, turning on the screen. A text from Luke greeted him, a quick reminder that his flight was scheduled to depart at noon the following day and that a car was arranged to pick him up at nine. Tom typed a quick thank you and dropped both himself and his phone onto the bed.

 As he lay on the bed, his mind replayed the conversation with Donna over and over again. He was doing the right thing in waiting, wasn’t he? It was what Rosemary had asked for and it had only been a week, he could wait; she was worth it…But still there was a niggling part in the back of his brain that would not keep quiet. He groaned, rubbing his face with his hand.

 “Fuck it,” he hissed rolling over onto his side and grabbing his phone. A few quick swipes of his finger pulled up the dial screen of his phone and with a practiced ease he dialed in her number hesitating only moments before hitting send.

 The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Shit, what time was it there? He wracked his brain trying to do the math in his head. God, it was probably stupidly late there. A groan escaped his lips. Maybe he should just hang up and try later. Shit, he didn’t know.

 “Tom?” Rosemary’s voice cut through his panicking. It took him several seconds to realize what was going on.

 He felt his heart leap into his throat. He took a quick, calming breath before responding. “Rosie, hi…Am I interrupting anything? I didn’t even think about the time difference. God, what time is it there?”

 She laughed and the sound warmed him. “It’s fine. I was just getting ready to get dinner,” Rosemary paused and he heard a soft shuffling in the background. “It’s going on eight here.”

 “Oh, good.” He laughed softly, feeling his heart start to slow in his chest. Dear lord, he was an absolute mess. “I was terrified it was like two in the morning or some other horrendously late hour and you’d be dead asleep and cursing me out for waking you.” She laughed at this and it was a truly beautiful sound. He paused a moment before asking, “How have you been?”

 There was a slight hesitation in her voice as she answered and it sent tiny alarm bells blaring in his mind. “I’ve…I’ve been alright…Busy…But I’m glad you called. I’ve been meaning to but with one thing and another…” her voice trailed off.

 “I know a thing or two about busy, Rosie,” he chuckled. “It’s completely fine. I’m just…It’s really nice to hear your voice,” he confessed, knowing he was likely pushing the tenuous boundary between them but needing to say it nonetheless.

 “It’s nice to hear yours too,” Rosemary answered, her voice soft. “How has the tour been going? Where are you now, anyway?”

 Tom had opened his mouth to reply when a male voice echoed in the background. “Rose, they’ve managed to find us a table. Come on before they give it away.” Confusion flooded through him. She was at dinner with a man; another man, his mind hissed unhelpfully. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Stop it, he told himself, trying to quell the unease roiling inside him. Don’t jump to conclusions. She has plenty of male friends that she has every right to go to dinner with. Don’t you dare let yourself freak out over this.

 A muffled sound came over the line and through it he heard Rosemary yell, “Go in, Adam. I’ll be right there.”

 Adam? He felt the blood freeze in his veins. Surely not.

 “Tom? Tom, I’m so, so sorry but I have to dash. Thank you for calling…” her voice trailed off for a moment before hesitantly coming back. “You’re home late next week, right?”

 Startled by her question he nodded in response before shaking his head and answering verbally. “Yes. Late Friday afternoon if all goes according to plan.”

 “Good. Good. Listen, after you get back can we meet up…I…There’s something I want to talk with you about.” Her voice was hesitant, uncertain, and he felt his heart drop in his chest.

 “Oh…Alright. I’ll call you after I’ve settled and we can maybe meet up for a coffee.” He tried to keep his voice even and light, which was quite the feat considering he felt as though he were going to be violently ill.

 “That sounds like a plan…I’ll see you soon,” she whispered and the line went dead.

 Tom sat motionless on the bed, staring blankly at the phone still in his hand. He felt as if all the air had been knocked forcefully from his lungs as her words echoed in his head. ‘There’s something I want to talk with you about.’ He took a shuddering breath feeling as though sleep would be the very last thing he would get that night.

 Next

[walkerismychoice]

For Law and Love - Chapter 12

Book: Desire and Decorum - Modern day AU

Paring: Ernest Sinclaire X MC

Raiting: PG-13

A/N: This is sort of shorter transitional chapter. but I felt it was best to get this stuff out of the way and cut it off here

Summary: Anna and Ernest deal with the fallout of the incident with Professor Richards

Word Count: 1457

Law and Love Master List  - Catch up here

The last week had been a whirlwind of giving statement after statement to police, lawyers, and school officials. Anna was thankful to have come out mostly unscathed, but as word spread of her ordeal, one by one more victims came forward, and not all were as lucky as her. Some had been afraid to say no, and gave into Professor Richards demands out of fear of the alternative, other’s had refused and failed out of law school, or worse. Things that could have happened to Anna had she not put up a fight, and she didn’t even want to think about just how lucky she was. The school set her up with a therapist which was helpful even after the first visit, but saw the value in continuing on because she realized she could have been benefiting from therapy all along.

Professor Richards was put on immediate suspension and class was cancelled for a week pending the investigation. By some miracle, professor Richards’s attorney must have convinced him not to press charges against Ernest given all the serious accusations against him, but Ernest wasn't in the clear yet. He still had go before the Dean and the rest of the law school's administrative board to determine what, if any, action would be taken against him.

~~~~~

Ernest bit at his nails as he sat in front of the board nervously awaiting the start of the hearing. In his opinion Professor Richards deserved a whole lot more than a punch to the face, but he also understood the threat of immediate danger to Anna had passed and that they could easily find him in violation of the school's code of conduct. He didn't know what type of punishment to expect, but he could handle just about anything short of being expelled.

“Mr. Sinclaire,” Dean Henning began as the other board members watched on attentively. “As you know, we are here today to discuss your incident with Professor Richards. You are aware that we have a zero tolerance policy for violence, correct?”

“Yes, Sir.” Ernest answered, lowering his eyes to the floor.

“Based on my own knowledge and interviews with others in the school that know you, this type of behavior is out of character for you. I imagine you wouldn’t have resorted to assaulting Professor Richards without just cause. Am I correct in assuming you acted as you did out of concern for Ms. Edgewater’s safety?” The dean questioned.

If he Ernest was being completely honest, Anna was already physically out of harm’s way by the time he got there. “Well,...”

“Mr. Sinclaire, I do already have statements from Mr. Harper and Mr. Prince confirming you were acting in defense of Ms. Edgewater. If you say no more, I will accept that as your agreement, and we can put this to rest. I’m guessing Professor Richards will be too busy with his other battles to put up a fight on this front.” Ernest couldn’t be certain, but he thought he detected a hint of a smile on the dean’s lips. He glanced at the other board members and noticed a couple of them smirking as well. Maybe Professor Richards nasty reputation extended beyond just the students

Ernest let out an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Very well then.” Dean Henning very clearly smiled this time. “We do have another matter to discuss.”

“Okay...” Ernest’s heart started beating faster again, not knowing what else he could have done wrong.

“No need to worry. It’s nothing bad,” Dean Henning reassured him. “Although Professor Richard’s future remains uncertain, he is suspended indefinitely. This is a concern because there is still a month left in the semester, and we need someone to head up teaching Business Law. The department has talked it over and we believe you are the best person for the job.”

“What?” Was Ernest hearing this right? Moments ago he was worried about being kicked out of law school, and now they were asking him to head up the course. “But I’m just a law student. Why me over anyone else?”

“To be honest, if there were another professor who knew the material and had availability, that would be our top choice, but at this point, you are by far the most qualified. It is not unprecedented for graduate students to instruct undergraduate courses and we are confident you know the material. Mr. Harper and Mr. Prince are good students as well, but you are at the top of your class. They will continue to act as your teaching assistants and you will present the material to the class. We are aware that Professor Richards was relying heavily on the three of you, so the workload shouldn’t be that much more for you. What do you say?” The dean asked expectantly.

His mind was still reeling from the sudden turn of events, but he knew he needed to do it. “Yes, I’ll do.”

“Excellent.” Dean Henning reached across the table to shake Ernest’s hand. “Just one more thing. I do not need to know the details of your personal life, but I feel it may be necessary spell out that professor/student relationships are forbidden. Although you lack the technical title, you are acting in the role, and we will need you to abide by this rule, at least until the semester ends and final grades are submitted.”

Ernest’s heart sunk upon the realization. “Understood.” It was only a month. He an Anna could handle a month apart, couldn’t they? 

~~~~~

Ernest had texted Anna immediately after the hearing to meet her at his office with no further details. He was seated at his desk when she arrived. She grabbed the handle to shut the door, but he stopped her. “You can leave that open.” 

There was a formality in his tone she wasn’t used to and Anna started to worry. She sat down in the chair opposite his at the desk. “How did the hearing go? Are you okay?”

Ernest smiled wearily. “It went very well, actually. Apparently I have some very good friends willing to vouch for me, and professor Richards has enough enemies that there will be no action taken against me. In fact, you are looking at the new stand-in professor for the rest of the semester.”

“Seriously? That’s great news!” Anna jumped up and ran around the desk to give Ernest a hug but he held a hand up to keep her back. 

“Unfortunately, that means we cannot continue our relationship for the remainder of the semester. I’m sorry, Anna.”

His actions now made sense and Anna feared the worst. “So are we breaking up?”

Ernest looked out into the hallway and then spoke softly. “No, not at all. It’s just that with everything that’s happened, neither of us can afford to take any chances here. We can’t risk being seen in any inappropriate situations. I’m still all yours if you can wait. 

A month was such an insignificant amount of time, yet a month without touching, kissing, or holding Ernest seemed like an eternity. However, given the alternatives, it wasn’t the worst thing she could have to endure. “Hmm. A month is a long time, and I do have a lot of other prospects...kidding, kidding. Of course I can wait. I’d even wait two months for you.”

Ernest shook his head and laughed. “We’ll see how things go, but for now I’ll only be able to see you in class. Unless...There would be nothing stopping you from volunteering at the legal aid clinic on Saturdays when I do. They can always use extra help filling and filing paperwork. You don’t need any special training and it would look good on your law school application.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Strictly to help me with Law School, and not because there might some hot law school students there.” Anna smirked. 

“I would tell you that you better be talking about me, but that would be inappropriate, so I’ll just say I hope the opportunity is everything you are looking for. I do have to have to run to another class now, but maybe I’ll see you at the clinic tomorrow.” As they stood to leave, Ernest peered out into the hallway, and then pulled Anna behind the door and out of view. He wrapped his arms around her and brought his lips down on hers, kissing her like he needed it to be enough to last. 

Anna kissed him back with equal eagerness and longing before the finally broke apart. “I know you aren’t going anywhere, but I miss you already.”

Ernest hugged her tightly to his chest. “This will be over in no time. We’ll make it work. I know we will.”     

Tag List:  @symonde @timmagicktoad @reputationbee @antumbral @flowerpowell @flyawayboo @hellospunkiebrewster @boneandfur @tmarie82 @debramcg1106 @lizeboredom @simplyaiden-blog @the-writerly-night-owl, @quacksonlover @thefarrari @snickette @hhiggs @marianagmt @drakewalkerfantasy @mistersinclaire @jessweb84 @marshmallow-ortega @butindeed @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @confessionsofabrokegirl @akrenich @alexanderkeith-77-blog @nicestrokepam @cocomaxley @leelee10898 @blackcatkita @yesterday4 @shelivesinthewoods @snyggflicka @nekkidmolerat @srry-itshockeyszn @walkerduchess @choicesyouplayandmore @andy-loves-corgis @katurrade @too-poor-to-buy-keys @endless-vall @hopefulmoonobject @damienazarios @pens-girl-87 @catlady0911 @thatspicegirlssong

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

You are Michael's partner/one & only/second-in-charge. You & Outpost Michael have gotten into an argument regarding the selections & you've had enough of him having the last word. While he's away from your chamber, you pack up & secretly leave the bunker towards the next Outpost without a word of where you're going. Michael immediately senses your absence and ... how will he react to this? 🤔

Breach Michael x Reader

Word Count 1,895

A/N: absolutely loved this concept enjoyed working with it!

Requested by @master-langdon

It was a cold grey day in late November. The weather had changed overnight, when a backing wind brought a granite sky and the nuclear winter with it. It has officially been eighteen months since the bombs fell beginning the apocalypse.

Y/N stepped out of the carriage that had pulled up outside of Outpost 3. Looking around it could best be described as a scene out of a low budget horror movie, there was rarely much left that would pass as suitable much less look like an even remote possibility of surviving. To you it looked like ground zero and to be completely honest it left you with a rather superstitious feeling, hell it actual creeped you out.

Y/N and Michael arrived at outpost 3 it was the fourth one they have visited that actually had even.an inkling of any survivors. The first three outposts they has been either abandoned, destroyed or in the case of the output they visited in Syracuse New York the survivors had been massacred.

Y/N stood inside the main commons area a little later on. Michael glided across the floor im stealth like movement. The nervous faces of the survivors watched in anticipation

Michael spoke up piercing the dead silence that had fallen across the room. “My name is Langdon and I represent the Cooperative, I won't sugar coat the situation humanity is on the brink. My arrival here is critical to the future of your survival.”

When leadership from the Cooperative arrive it was a moment that caught everyone by surprise. Michael is Venable's superior within the Cooperative, she was unaware that a representative had any intentions of course unexpectedly, Michael stood in front of the fire in the commons area. He says the other outposts had been overrun — by what, he didn't specify — and that Outpost 3 is the only surviving beacon besides another mysterious "facility" that he now wants to whisk some of the survivors to.

The questions started firing out one after the other, where was this 'sanctuary. Was there enough food supplies tp last, ect.. ect. Michael turned his head cocking it to the side, he looked stoic showing no sign of commotion. “Classified!” He responded sharply. A few more questions were asked, each receiving that same answer.. “It should take a few days at the most to conduct my interviews and can inform everyone of the results shortly after.

Michael and Y/N had been involved in a relationship for years on both a professional level as well as personal. You served as a second in command to Michael as your role in the Cooperative. They both held in their possession ID cards that contain their signatures. Michael's saying"President" and yours "Chancellor" of the Cooperative, as well as having ID numbers, ranking numbers, and other coding. Your role being that it is second in command means that in the event that Michael that was unable to or not present to carry out the work of the Cooperative then you would act in his place.

There were times that you both equally worked together, but when Y/N and Michael started to pay visits to the outposts to conduct the interviews you noticed that Michael was adamant about doing these interviews himself. You tried on multiple occasions to offer your help because honestly you felt like why should one person be bogged down with all that work it's stressful. Michael often spent late hours either conducting interviews or he was going over files or emails in his laptop.

It wasn't uncommon for you to loiter around the passageways or close to his office door to hear that was discussed between him and the survivor being questioned at that time. Y/N paid attention and absorbed info that she retained to be able to formulate your own observation/opinion as well. Normally you two were able to talk to each other when it came to any matters pertaining to the Cooperative. Y/N and Michael had that dynamic where they could talk to one another, discuss options, offer insight and work together for results. You couldn't understand why Michael seemed to be keeping you 'in the dark’ when it came to the interviews and the information revolving around it. At first you didn't confront him about anything. You stayed pretty closed lipped, knowing that given time you would bring it up. Timing was everything when it came to approaching Michael with something Y/N know was viewed as controversial and or possibly sensitive.

Y/N at various points of time had the opportunity to gain enough info on each of the survivors of Outpost 3. You weren't certain who Michael in his opinion deemed as worthy to join you both at the sanctuary. Ultimately when it came to making choices you were known to think practically and logically. You took into consideration with each person their strengths, weaknesses, the positive and the negative.

Y/N approached Michael carefully, you happen to catch him in a halfway decent mood so you hoped that maybe that since you were discussing this that maybe it would be done so in a civilized manner. “I take it the interview process must be completed.” You observed. “Just about, got a few more to take place tomorrow evening. I may some in mind though but waiting to see after I complete the final ones though.” He responded not looking up from his laptop. You had paid careful attention to who he had already interviewed, you knew exactly when and who as most of the interviews took place when everyone was gathered in the commons area. You would watch as Mrs. Mead approached each party saying “Mr. Langdon wishes to speak with you.” The only two people left yet to be interviewed was Mallory (the grey) and Andre Dinah Stevens son.

You were vaguely curious as to who Michael had in mind or thought to be worthy. “Oh really… who are the possible viable candidates if you don't mind me asking.” You asked carefully silently hoping that he would answer. Michael paused momentarily to briefly look up at you, “Mrs St Pierre Vanderbilt and Gallant.” Your jaw dropped slightly and your eyes held a shocked expression. You just as quickly regained your composer praying that Michael hadn't witnessed your initial reaction of absolute shock. “I have been paying attention to the inhabitants here, just from witnessing actions, overhearing conversations ect it seems to me that Mr Campbell and Emily seem to be viable.” Out of those you have had the opportunity to observe as well as overhear conversations about that those two seemed pretty decent. They seemed level headed and out of those that were currently residing there they had the most common sense.

Michael let out an amused chuckle “When we begin our journey through the new world I would rather have people with experience. Not deal with two fairly wet behind the ear young adults.” You felt your anger rise, normally you and Michael could talk to each other, or at least discuss things maturely. You took a deep breath before you spoke again…”Michael..you might want to consider this. Others may have not acted with the best of intentions—and that you might not know the whole story.” Michael's eyes flushed red, he was definitely angry. Despite the fact that you appreciated this as tactfully as possible it was clear you still somehow managed to strike a nerve with you. There was clearly some difference of opinion, which is heartening, you did your best to hide your emotions from Michael.

You made a final attempt to try and discuss this with him. “I understand it can be a slight oversight..” Pausing for a moment you tried to approach this professionally. “Maybe you haven’t finished thinking this through, the whole selection process a surprise to you, or you want to get a clearer sense of what is going on,” Michael's eyes held yours in a stare that read quite defensive, “I know what I am doing Y/N just drop it!” You could see that your difference of opinion is based partly on the differing understandings of the purpose of the purpose at hand. You didn't say anything more, it seemed clear that Michael wasn't open minded enough to listen to your point of view on this.

The next day while Michael conducted the final two interviews you remained back in the suite packing your things. Michael seemed determined to handle the selection process in his own way here, you took it upon yourself to leave before him to the next outpost. You wanted to handle things professionally and fairly, Michael however seemed to make it personal. Later on that night Michael returned back to the suite, it had been a long day. He didn't completely notice it at first, at one point he caught sight of a dresser drawer that was open ajar. Michael immediately got the sense that something was off, he opened the drawer all the way it was completely empty. Michael looked through the rest of the drawers and your side of the armoire..bare empty everything of yours no longer there. You were gone. Michael had never been so confused in his whole entire life. He didn't understand, why, why had he allowed this to get to this point?

Michael needed to see Y/N again, to speak to her but he was faced with a simple conundrum: what should I do next? Email her? Would the Cooperative or anyone know of your where abouts? Michael could only blame himself, he had let a personal vendetta get in the way of not only a professional relationship but his feelings for Y/N.

Michael POV…

‘My beloved Y/N, you are the greatest thing in my life and it breaks my heart to see that I have hurt you. I hate knowing that I have upset you. The last thing I want to do is hurt your feelings and make you feel insuperior. To make you think that your opinions hold no value. You mean the world to me. You deserve so much better than this and I promise I will make this right, Please Y/N forgive me and I hope that I can prove that I mean it when I say that I am sorry.’

An encrypted email came through from Jeff Pfister, Y/N had left heading to outpost 8 in Phoenix Arizona. Michael wasted no time on packing up his things and heading that way. He was going to make this right with you no matter what it took, you were far to important to him professionally and personally to let it end this way.

Neither Michael nor Y/N depend on the other for their feelings of self worth- they know in their heart that they are just as valuable to the world as the other. Good looking, optimistic, and they spark a light in the world that people recognize that goes beyond a normal relationship.

They are the perfect power couple...one of them is flawed, the other makes up for their weaknesses in their strength. Together they are the epitome of what anyone would desire in a relationship. They encourage goodness in the world and make it a better place by being together.

[winterisakiller]

Love & Great Buildings - Chapter Fifteen

Chapter: 15/19

Character/Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Rosemary Mathews (OFC)

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: Three years have passed and a chance encounter brings Tom and Rosie together again. Can time make any difference or are they doomed to repeat their mistakes.

Rating: T

Author’s Notes/Warnings: This is part nine of Last Minutes and Lost Evenings. Many thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for listening to me ramble incessantly about  this story and being a sounding board when I needed it. You are a lifesaver, even if your stories break my heart.

This story and its preceding one-shots can be also be found on AO3 under the username winterisakiller (sparkinside)

Tag List: @tinchentitri @noplacelikehome77 @theheartofpenelope

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Exhausted, Tom stumbled into the darkened room and let himself drop carelessly onto the large, unmade bed. He turned, burying his face into the rumpled pillows and groaned. God, he was tired. It had been a whirlwind of a day and all he wanted to do now was sleep for at least a year. More if at all possible. He’d been at this for nearly a week now; running interview to interview, answering the same handful of questions asked in slightly differing ways. Though the excitement of the first few stops on this, admittedly, chaotic promotional tour had slowly but surely began to fade, he was still excited to talk about the film. It had been a grueling shoot, long hours and frequent reshoots, but he was extremely proud of what he and his co-stars had created and could not wait to see the reaction it would receive.

 He rolled over onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. He had the next seven hours completely free; a wonderful yet daunting prospect. He should sleep, god he wanted to sleep, but something told him that no matter how badly he wanted it, sleep would be more than a bit elusive. His mind though choked with exhaustion wouldn’t seem to keep quiet. It kept replaying; the feel of her lips on his, her soft yet firm body pressed against his, the feel of her silky hair between his fingers, the way her breath hitched as he pulled her closer to him. Every detail flashed through his mind, bright and clear.

 An involuntary shiver ran through him. It was both heaven and hell. They hadn’t talked properly since that night and it was eating him alive. Far too often he found himself checking his phone during any spare moment, hoping for a call or at least a text. Something, anything; but as it stood it had been over a week and nothing. He could call her, open that line of communication himself and he had been sorely tempted to, but with this he knew that if there was a move to be made, it should be on Rosemary’s part. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, push her into anything; not again. He’d learned that lesson far too well. If they were going to try for something more it would be on her insistence or not at all. It was a gamble, that he was well aware. And it was his heart on the line, but Tom knew that if he pushed there was a very real chance he could lose her completely. And that, that was not an option. So he would wait and he would hope. He let out a sigh, closing his eyes once again and praying sleep would claim him, if only for a little while.

 Several hours later he was brought crashing back into consciousness by a blaring noise. Heart pounding in his chest, it took him several moments to realize that the horrifically loud sound was in fact his phone. He laughed despite himself, shaking his head as he pushed off of the bed and stumbled through the darkness towards the dresser where he had emptied the contents of his pockets upon entering the room. His phone sat, face down on the dresser. Flipping it over revealed a waiting text message. From Luke. He groaned aloud before tapping the screen and opening the message.

 ‘Interview tomorrow moved up from 0900 to 0830. You’ll be paired with Donna. Car will be by at 0745. Coffee will be waiting J’

 Tom typed back a short thank you in response as he walked slowly back to the bed, tossing his phone onto the rumpled bedclothes. A quick glance at his watch told him it was that time of the night which was both stupidly late and stupidly early. He dropped his head into his hands and let out a low groan. He was very much awake now and at the moment any real chance of falling back asleep seemed utterly hopeless. He let his weight fall back onto the bed. His head was still foggy with sleep and the disappointment he’d felt at seeing Luke’s name and not Rosemary’s was difficult to ignore or dismiss.

 With a groan he pushed himself upright once again and fumbled at the bedside table for the television remote. He’d never been one for television but at this point any distraction would do. After three disappointing turns around the available channels he finally settled on a cooking show, some competition that looked far more intense than any cooking program ought to be. He couldn’t say what was happening on the show but the noise was distraction enough.

 Tom blinked rapidly as his phone chimed again and he groped blindly on the bed for it. Hitting the side button to unlock the screen, he stared at the waiting message. ‘Car’s here.’ He blinked in confusion before glancing at the top of the screen for the time. 0745. “What?” He breathed in disbelief. That couldn’t possibly be right. He rubbed his eyes and checked the screen again. Fuck, it was right. He must have dozed back off. Thank god he’d heard his phone.

 Cursing, Tom glanced down at his attire, rumbled from wear and sleep. Shit. Shit. Double shit. He didn’t have time for a shower but he had to change. Scrambling off the bed and onto his feet and tore through the outfits he’d hung in the closet. Taking the first one his fingers touched, Tom wasted little time stripping and redressing, not caring if the suit trousers and button up shirt matched perfectly with the shoes he’d slammed his feet into. Grey goes with everything, he told himself. He managed to wash his face and brush his hair and teeth and make it down to the waiting car by five after. He smiled briefly at the driver, apologizing profusely for his tardiness and slammed the door shut.

 Traffic was mercifully light and they pulled into the studio lot with fifteen minutes to spare. Luke stood at the side entrance with an intern from the television studio. His blue suit was impeccable as always, but the tie around his neck had been loosened; a sure fire sign that Luke was more than a little on edge. Tom climbed out of the car and waved off the driver before jogging up to the two waiting men. His publicist shook his head and chuckled. “Cutting it rather close there, Hiddleston.”

 “But I made it, Windsor,” Tom shot back. The small group made their way inside the building and through a hallway towards the elevators. He found himself tapping his foot to the beat of the song playing from the tinny speakers. A pop hit from sometime in the last decade; one that he recognized but couldn’t name. Once on the studio floor, Tom was rushed through hair and make-up and at twenty-five after he found himself sitting in front of a blue screen with Donna Jacobs waiting for their interviewer to arrive.

 Donna was incredibly bubbly for the early hour; more so than he’d seen her in quite some time. She was talking jovially about something that Tom, admittedly, had not been paying an ounce of attention to. She paused halfway through her story to ask him a question and he’d, much to his chagrin, had to ask her to repeat herself. Donna had laughed and repeated her question with good grace. It still hadn’t made any sense and he found himself staring blankly at her, feeling like a complete tit. Guilt coursed through him; he really hadn’t been paying Donna any mind at all as she spoke. It was exceedingly rude of him and not at all like him.

 He liked Donna; she had been a blast to talk with on long shoots, full of humor and a fair bit of biting sass. She was smart as a whip and hardworking, playing opposite her had been a delight. They’d gotten along well and it had been wonderful to catch up with her during the promotional work. She deserved his full attention, but between his exhaustion and worry he couldn’t seem to give it.

 “Jesus, Tom,” she laughed, nudging him affectionately with her shoulder. “You aren’t listening to a word I’ve been saying are you?”

 He shrugged, a sheepish smile spreading across his tired face. “Sorry. I’ve had an off night.”

 Donna laughed in earnest. “You? Off? Never.”

 Tom opened his mouth to retort but was cut short by the arrival of the woman conducting this particular round of interviews, “Cara Thomas,” she stated, hand held out for both to shake. She was a relatively tall, thin woman with dark brown hair and bright, lively blue eyes. Her skirt suit was a charcoal grey and well-tailored. She smiled brightly at them both before settling herself into the remaining chair. Cara made pleasant small talk with the two actors while the camera crew finished setting and checking their equipment; asking them how they found the city and if they’d had any chance to get out to see the sights. Donna fizzed with excitement as she talked with Cara about a small museum she’d found not too far from her hotel Tom nodded and smiled along. After the all clear was given, they settled in their respective seats as Cara began her introductions.

 “Hello, I’m Cara Thomas and this morning I’m sitting here with the stars of the new dramatic thriller, The School of Mist, Tom Hiddleston and Donna Jacobs. Welcome both of you.”

 “Thank you for having us, its lovely to be here,” Tom answered with warm smile.

 Donna smiled and nodded, “Yes, thanks so much.”

 Cara leaned forward, question cards resting on her lap. “So what can you tell us about this new film? What drew each of you to it?”

 Tom and Donna took turns discussing what they could of the film’s plot; a story centering on Tom’s character, Mark, a recent widower with a young son who discovers through a frightening twist of events that his late wife, Claire, was not all she seemed. He spoke of how he’d been drawn to the emotional journey the story took Mark on. How he’d been on the edge of his seat when reading the script and was absolutely thrilled when the part had been offered to him. Donna spoke of her character, Helen, who was a colleague of Mark’s who unwittingly became tangled in the dangerous web weaving around Claire’s past and how she’d pestered her agent for weeks to get her an audition.

 “Helen’s a smart, no nonsense woman who is thrown for a loop, along with Tom’s character, Mark, and finds herself caught up in something so much bigger than she is. I loved her from the moment the script crossed my path, I wanted to get in her head and solve the puzzle she found herself caught up in. Plus,” she added with a good natured laugh and nudge of her elbow, “working alongside this goof was a definite perk.”

 Tom touched his hand to his heart in a reflexive gesture and smiled, whispering as an aside, “She was an absolute nightmare.” He broke off with a quick laugh and continued, “But in all seriousness, Donna is a delight to work with. She is an absolute gem to play off of and a fantastic foil for my character’s confused floundering.”  

 He rambled on in his usual fashion and, despite it being far from the first time he talked about the film and his character, he enjoyed being able to share his thoughts and experiences. This film had been a frustrating but rewarding endeavor and he was thrilled to finally be able to share it.

 The rest of the day passed in very much the same manner; a fair deal of laughter and stories mixed amongst the same standard questions as the next round of interviewers paraded through. He fought against the impulse to check his phone at every conceivable break point, but it was a very near thing. Donna had quickly caught onto his twitchiness and after chuckling to herself over it called him out. “You are practically vibrating where you sit, what in the world is going on?”

 He scrubbed his face with his hand and groaned softly. “It’s a long story…” he started, laughing to himself. That sounded the worst sort of cliché, but he honestly wasn’t sure how else to put it. Not without making him sound like he was possibly going out of his mind. Maybe I am, he thought with a sigh.

 Donna cocked an eyebrow, “It’s always a long story.” She patted the chair beside her. “Now sit and spill. We’ve got another twenty minutes before they spring us for the day and I’m all ears.”

 Tom lowered himself onto the proffered chair and took a deep breath. “Just…worrying over something I have little control over.”

 “That’s a non-answer if I’ve ever heard one.” She shot him a knowing look. “So the way I see it, Hiddleston, you’re about as tense as I’ve ever seen you. I’m surprised you’ve not popped a lens with how often you’ve taken off your damned glasses to clean them. And let’s not get started on the wrinkled mess you’ve made of your shirt. Hell, looking at you is giving me an ulcer. So what’s got you tied up in knots? Girl trouble?” She paused, smiling, and when he didn’t respond continued on. “Boy trouble?” She waggled her eyebrows at him and he cracked a small smile.

 He sighed, “It’s…complicated.”

 Donna snorted. “Complicated, huh? Which if my male to English translation is up to scratch means you did something stupid and you are currently awaiting forgiveness.”

 Tom laughed despite himself. “Yes and no.” He paused, pulling of his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. “There is…someone. We aren’t together but we used to be…I made a series of exceeding poor choices during the time and things…It didn’t end well. We reconnected a few months back and are friends…Or trying to be.” He knew he was rambling and couldn’t for the life of him stop. It was risky, opening up like this. That was something he knew all too well. But he trusted Donna. She wasn’t the sort to run straight out and share any and everything she heard. He didn’t think she would change now. But still…“Things have been complicated. We…There is something there still, I think…I hope…I don’t know. But before I left we…Lines were crossed and she…She asked for time and it’s been well over a week now and I’ve heard nothing. I want to give her that. I know I need to give her that. I’ve pushed before…And it’s never ended well. But I…I want to know where we stand, I want to know if this hope I’ve got is all in vain or if, just maybe, there is a chance.”

 Beside him Donna was uncharacteristically quiet and it unnerved him far more than he wanted to admit. Cautiously, he raised his head and turned to face her. She smiled warmly at him and let her hand fall briefly on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Well that is not the most…hopeful thing I’ve heard.”

 He felt his heart plummet at her words. At someone else’s voice echoing what his mind had been none too gently shouting at him for days now. “Oh.”

 “…But it’s not the least either,” she continued. “You’re doing the right thing, trying to be patient and letting her go at her own pace. Listening to her is ridiculously important and honestly will go a long way to making things right.” She squeezed his shoulder again. “But sometimes people need to be pushed, even if it’s just to get them to open up. So be patient but don’t be passive. If you wait too long for her to figure out what she wants and don’t try to at least talk with her, you might find one day it’s just a tad too late.”

 Tom nodded silently, letting her words sink in. She had a point, of course she did. Donna was nothing short of uncanny with her insight. She was young, yes, but by no means did that mean she wasn’t observant or insightful. She’d seen a lot and wasn’t afraid to call things as they were. It was one of the many things he’d sincerely liked about her.

 “Mr. Hiddleston? Ms. Jacobs? Your cars are here.” Tom looked up to see an intern standing in the doorway, clipboard in hand. The same young man from that morning, if he wasn’t mistaken. Josh. Nodding at him, Tom stood and grabbed his coat. He turned and waited for Donna to grab her things before both followed Josh down to the lobby and their waiting vehicles. He bid Donna good night and climbed into his waiting car, grateful to have made it through another day. Only a week and a half more of this and he would be home.

 Once settled in the car, Tom leaned back into the seat, enjoying the softness of the smooth leather, and closed his eyes. For someone who spent the day mainly sitting and talking, he was ridiculously exhausted. Not really sleeping the night before really didn’t do you any favors, his mind retorted. Maybe sleep won’t prove so elusive tonight. He sighed, hoping that would be the case. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, the car was pulling to a stop.

 He’d blinked in confusion as he heard a voice call.  “Mr. Hiddleston, we’ve arrived.”

 Tom shook his head in a vain effort to rouse himself enough to climb out of the car and make his way to his room. The lobby was relatively empty, a blessed gift, only a scattered handful of people milling about the sparsely decorated open room. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to interact with fans, he enjoyed talking with people and hearing their stories, he just wasn’t sure he had he energy for it. Not then. And the last thing he wanted was to be short with anyone; the fallout from such a thing would not be worth it in any way, shape, or form. He made his way quickly to the elevators and then up to the twentieth floor and his room.

 Once again, he emptied his pockets on the wooden surface of the dresser. His next stop was the bathroom where he made quick work of stripping down and jumped into the shower. He set the water as hot as he could stand it, wincing at the heat before allowing himself to simply relax. He relished in the warmth of the water, lingering under the spray far longer than he normally would after making sure his body and hair were clean. He could feel the tension of the day slowly start to fall away. He finally managed to drag himself out of the shower nearly twenty minutes later, clean of body and renewed of spirit.

 Towel around his waist, Tom wandered back into the main room and fumbled through his suitcase for a clean pair of pajama bottoms; a blue checked pair that he’d long since lost the matching top for. He finished drying himself and pulled them on, stumbling from one foot to the other to keep his balance. He rubbed his hair vigorously with the towel before tossing it back into the bathroom, he really should hang it up to dry but couldn’t seem to find it in himself to do so.

 The beep of his phone caught his attention as he lumbered his way back to the bed. He stopped and flipped it over, turning on the screen. A text from Luke greeted him, a quick reminder that his flight was scheduled to depart at noon the following day and that a car was arranged to pick him up at nine. Tom typed a quick thank you and dropped both himself and his phone onto the bed.

 As he lay on the bed, his mind replayed the conversation with Donna over and over again. He was doing the right thing in waiting, wasn’t he? It was what Rosemary had asked for and it had only been a week, he could wait; she was worth it…But still there was a niggling part in the back of his brain that would not keep quiet. He groaned, rubbing his face with his hand.

 “Fuck it,” he hissed rolling over onto his side and grabbing his phone. A few quick swipes of his finger pulled up the dial screen of his phone and with a practiced ease he dialed in her number hesitating only moments before hitting send.

 The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Shit, what time was it there? He wracked his brain trying to do the math in his head. God, it was probably stupidly late there. A groan escaped his lips. Maybe he should just hang up and try later. Shit, he didn’t know.

 “Tom?” Rosemary’s voice cut through his panicking. It took him several seconds to realize what was going on.

 He felt his heart leap into his throat. He took a quick, calming breath before responding. “Rosie, hi…Am I interrupting anything? I didn’t even think about the time difference. God, what time is it there?”

 She laughed and the sound warmed him. “It’s fine. I was just getting ready to get dinner,” Rosemary paused and he heard a soft shuffling in the background. “It’s going on eight here.”

 “Oh, good.” He laughed softly, feeling his heart start to slow in his chest. Dear lord, he was an absolute mess. “I was terrified it was like two in the morning or some other horrendously late hour and you’d be dead asleep and cursing me out for waking you.” She laughed at this and it was a truly beautiful sound. He paused a moment before asking, “How have you been?”

 There was a slight hesitation in her voice as she answered and it sent tiny alarm bells blaring in his mind. “I’ve…I’ve been alright…Busy…But I’m glad you called. I’ve been meaning to but with one thing and another…” her voice trailed off.

 “I know a thing or two about busy, Rosie,” he chuckled. “It’s completely fine. I’m just…It’s really nice to hear your voice,” he confessed, knowing he was likely pushing the tenuous boundary between them but needing to say it nonetheless.

 “It’s nice to hear yours too,” Rosemary answered, her voice soft. “How has the tour been going? Where are you now, anyway?”

 Tom had opened his mouth to reply when a male voice echoed in the background. “Rose, they’ve managed to find us a table. Come on before they give it away.” Confusion flooded through him. She was at dinner with a man; another man, his mind hissed unhelpfully. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Stop it, he told himself, trying to quell the unease roiling inside him. Don’t jump to conclusions. She has plenty of male friends that she has every right to go to dinner with. Don’t you dare let yourself freak out over this.

 A muffled sound came over the line and through it he heard Rosemary yell, “Go in, Adam. I’ll be right there.”

 Adam? He felt the blood freeze in his veins. Surely not.

 “Tom? Tom, I’m so, so sorry but I have to dash. Thank you for calling…” her voice trailed off for a moment before hesitantly coming back. “You’re home late next week, right?”

 Startled by her question he nodded in response before shaking his head and answering verbally. “Yes. Late Friday afternoon if all goes according to plan.”

 “Good. Good. Listen, after you get back can we meet up…I…There’s something I want to talk with you about.” Her voice was hesitant, uncertain, and he felt his heart drop in his chest.

 “Oh…Alright. I’ll call you after I’ve settled and we can maybe meet up for a coffee.” He tried to keep his voice even and light, which was quite the feat considering he felt as though he were going to be violently ill.

 “That sounds like a plan…I’ll see you soon,” she whispered and the line went dead.

 Tom sat motionless on the bed, staring blankly at the phone still in his hand. He felt as if all the air had been knocked forcefully from his lungs as her words echoed in his head. ‘There’s something I want to talk with you about.’ He took a shuddering breath feeling as though sleep would be the very last thing he would get that night.

Next Chapter

[chipswithfanfics]

❝ Private Lessons ❞ Taeyong

• Genre: Smut, teacher!au, university life, comedy (?). • Rating: +18! • Pairing: Taeyong x Reader • Summary: Every student looks forward to summer vacation, and it does not matter if you're in elementary, middle school, or college. And you was more than ready for your trip to your aunt's house. Anything would be better than staying in that hell. But it's amazing the ability a simple and damn warning has, does not it? Consequently, it was because of a warning that you would have to spend the entire vacation taking private lessons with the handsome and angelic substitute teacher. "Goodbye cruel world, I'm taking my ticket straight to hell." You said on the day of your condemnation for insufficient attendance. Speaking of which, the part of the angelic is ironic, because Professor Lee Taeyong could be anything but an angel... but you can not deny the handsome part. • Word count: 8.4k sorry

• Request: “hello! i saw that you were a new writing blog so i decided to write a request since i’m a writing blog as well! i was wondering if i could request a teacher au headcanon for taeyong?? you can make it how ever fluffy or smutty you want it haha! if you do decided to do it, thank you so much! i’m interested in seeing your work! hope your blog does well! 💘” by @textingyong​

A/N: thanks for the support! it was a pleasure to write a teacher au with Taeyong (jesus, I think someone just turned bias wrecker)... aand sorry for the delay, i got carried away and ended up getting this huge thing, hope you like it!!

The pencil hits a total of seven times in your notebook, which is blank. You sigh, you did not sleep last night, and thanks to your roommate who decided to do a series marathon.

The yawn that takes your mouth is huge.

You do not care about class. Because it's boring, and especially: you do not want to be there, sitting in that room, in that chair, much less at that university.

But you are, and all thanks to your parents and your older brother. So much that you perfectly remember your exciting words of farewell, two years ago… "Fuck you!" Yeah, a very loving relationship with your family.

The truth is that you have been sent to this university, more exactly, to take administration college because your parents are tremendous assholes. But you love them, anyway... I swear.

The point is, in two years of school, sharing a room with a girl named Seohee, you're already too tired. The tests every month? You do not care anymore. The assignments to deliver to the teachers? Fuck this shit. Internship? Internshipwho?

In fact, your classmates barely know how you can still get through the disciplines, but you know very well: you're afraid that your dad will cut allowance, because it's basically the only thing that keeps you alive there.

Because university life is not that sea of roses that everyone thinks, at least, is not what your high school version imagined…

In the way that if you received the news that the end of the world was tomorrow, you could not be more grateful !!!

But the world will not end. At least not now…

Because in fact your world only ended on a Monday morning, when the drowsiness was so great that you were almost throwing yourself on the floor.

Of course, thanks to your dear Seohee, who knows that you will only sleep when you finish watching the whole series: and of course you could not watch Supernatural in a single dawn.

And you end up giving up to the urge to take a nap...

You stick your face in the book, and you sleep right there. Want someone with awesome skills?? Stan Lee can interview you for the ability to sleep anywhere, under any circumstances

And everything gets worse when you're out of your divine night's sleep.

You pull a beautiful snore. And, you’re out of orbit.

Happens that, you wake up completely lost hours later, do not even know what day it is.

You raise your head with incredible speed, about to apologize to the teacher—because he's a nice guy—only to realize that… There was a man, very young, writing on the board, his hair lightly combed back

And the most incredible: he is so young! And thin and...

Then you process everything Where's your belly? Where's the bald head? HE ISN’T THE PROFESSOR!!!

There is a deep silence, the group that talks for twenty-four hours a day, finally, shut up, the next colleague takes off the headphones, the teacher turns to write on the board, and even the birds out there stop sing. The famous trap of the universe...

"Who is it?!" And you ask to the colleague on the side. Should be a whisper, should, in the past imperfect because it was everything, anything but a whisper.

You practically yelled, and everyone listened.

Probably God is thrusting his face into his palm right now. Such a shame...

And your friend turns red like a bell pepper, you too, but it only takes a matter of 30 seconds because your brain is still processing the shame you will go through.

"I am the substitute teacher" The handsome man, dressed in a slim suit, no sign of a tie, but with a nice straight smile between his lips, says.

You freeze and finally blush like a chili.

"Sorry, professor." You whisper, your voice sounding more like a whimper.

The first thing you notice is how sharp his eyes are, as if he could see directly the bottom of your soul.

"What's your name?" He cleared his throat, and all eyes were directly on you. Swallowing dry... You want to die. You will die!!!

"Y/n, sir" replying, you take a deep breath, taking the breath of confidence, after all you've never been afraid of any other teacher. And it will not be the substitute teacher that will change that…

Then he opens a smile, a side smile, not showing much of the teeth, he leans back on the table.

"I hope you have slept enough, Y/n, because I want a report of this and the next class for tomorrow"

Do you know the part of wanting to die? Cancel it! You want to throw yourself from the window!... Which leads to the same.

You find out later that his name is Lee Taeyong.

And no, he will not be his teacher for only a week or two, but throughout the rest of the period, because the teacher himself, the nice potbellied— in which you forgot the name—suffered an accident.

Damn it!, you curse mentally, of course you're sorry for the accident, but could not he have this accident in the next period?

The first five days pass

And you must accept reality, the cruel reality that comes down to Professor Lee Taeyong memorized your name.

It may sound like something natural, but look, university professors give classes to classrooms with an average of twenty to forty students, and usually give classes to more than one room per period.

And if Lee Taeyong memorized your face, it's because it can only mean one thing… And no, it's not because he miraculously fell in love with you (we're not in a fanfic... or are we?). But because he marked you!

And in two years at that university, you've created a code of conduct with your dear friend Seohee and company; Johnny and Jaehyun were the aggregates.

1) Not reprove for lack of presence, because it is the height of humiliation.

2) If you can not answer the test, ask your colleague on the side!

But the last, but not the least

3) Never… Under no circumstances Not even in risk of death… Let a teacher mark your name.

"You're..." Johnny held his tongue against the roof of his mouth, you sighed, almost thrusting his face into the table. "Fucked-up." And you knew that perfectly well!

"I do not need you to declare my death sentence, Johnny." You grumble.

You spent a whole week of mourning since then, lying in your bed, thinking of all the scoldings you would receive from your parents, because probably this damn teacher would do anything to reprove you.

And you even thought of all the shit your beloved damn big brother, Taeil, would say.

But then, in the middle of the night you have a brilliant plan...

"eUREKA!" You scream, getting out of bed with a leap.

Seohee rolls out of bed, scared to hear you screaming in the middle of the night.

"What was it this time?!"

"I'm going to study!" And this is your brilliant plan... You decide, for the first time, to try really hard and stick your face in the books

Because, remember the report that Professor Taeyong had asked for? You did not do, just like all the other reports he went through.

Just like, you missed most of his class—and you was almost reproving because of it...

Hence you took courage, and went to face your biggest fear of the year... Attend a complete class of the substitute teacher, without hiding behind the books, without pretending that you're sleeping… without thinking of throwing yourself out the window.

Lee Taeyong's eyes are penetrating, and that's the main subject among girls. He seems cold, and his tongue is sharp, he is too smart, and the voice is always expressed with confidence...

The girls melt for him.

Except you, in part. Because his eyes, somehow, are always in you… and you can swear that it is not for a very good reason.

In fact, you would not be surprised if one day he followed you to the dormitory and kidnapped you to sell your organs on the black market.

"Less drama." Jaehyun laughed when you confessed the reason behind your nights without sleep.

"He's a monster!" You whined in response. "I'm sure he's planning something right now! I can see through his eyes."

"And why would he do it? Relax, he has no reason enough to reprove you, you know..."

Jaehyun knows nothing... Reproof is now the last of your worries.

And that happened four days ago, right after you had the brilliant idea of ​​really studying—and let's be honest with each other here, this thing did not last long.

The scenario is that you were in the cafe, where you got the best espresso.

Steam are flooding your face, smell coming in through your nose; it was the best motivation to keep you studying, and you were doing really well. You understand sentence by sentence. You're smart, there's just something missing to give you a push—you think… until you turn the page... And you may wonder from when and how the college includes alien's language in the curriculum.

"Why I have to do this?! I do not understand anything!" You grumble, taking a sip of your coffee, the smell now no longer helps in anything, in fact, it only gives you that urge going up your throat, to just dropping everything. "Who does he think he is to pass this whole shit-"

"Has your teacher asked for too much?" The voice sounds right behind you, it's rough and familiar, so familiar that you want to run away from there without looking back.

Your alarm whistles high in the head—and it only beeps when you do shit.

You look back and your head could almost roll away if it was not tightly attached to your neck.

And it's none other than Lee-fucking-Taeyong holding a large disposable cup of coffee, slightly frowning.

What have I done to deserve this karma? You wonder. Maybe putting laxative in the juice of your eight-year-old brother was not a good idea.

"He must have a good reason. Do not you think, miss Y/n?" He says, taking a sip of the coffee, his eyes expressively watching your expression twist.

You figured out exactly five ways to commit suicide, all five ways would not work out.

The point is… You already consider yourself dead anyway.

Because the rumors that begin to grow in his class, and in the neighbors, is that Lee Taeyong is the son of a famous family involved with the traffic, the mafia, and murders out there...

You want to cry… and you really cry soo much...

And the amount of times you take the substitute teacher looking directly at you while perfectly explaining the discipline is almost countless. Just as countless times you swallow dry.

But it does not take long for you to feel some relief, the summer vacation are approaching and well... YOU FINALLY WILL BE FREE FROM THIS HELL!! You literally scream when you arrive on the last day of proof, which happens to be the that proof.

"Jesus, what is the need for such shouting so early in the morning?"

"People scream with happiness when they are about to leave purgatory, Johnny!" And you scream again.

For you, there could be no greater happiness than to finally get rid of the college and finally, finally, travel in the summer vacation. Because it was two years ago that you did not enjoy the air from outside, and you really needed it, even if it was in your aunt's house—because you were still giving the silent treatment to your family.

And the next day, you make all your bags, choose your best clothes, even gave a renewed in the general look, you have a nice smile on your face and say goodbye to Seohee, giving a big tight hug.

And you're leaving to say goodbye to Johnny and Jaehyun when...

Your foot slightly slides on the floor. "??!" You do not understand, and the eyes fall in the direction of where your foot is placed.

Is a letter signed by the director himself... addressed to you. Shit! Shit! Shit! Damn Shit!

It turns out that, anyway, you crossed the campus to knock on the door of Jaehyun and Johnny's bedroom. In place of the huge smile, you have a big baby face after you let the ice cream fall to the ground… and in the case, the ice cream was your vacations and the gravity that put your dream in the ground is the own Lee Taeyong.

"I said..." You cry. Jaehyun is the only one who gives you the shoulder, Johnny is busy packing his things. "I said he would find a way to get his revenge."

"It's just extra lessons, Y/n" Johnny says.

"It's just to make up for your faults." Jaehyun agrees. "If you had done all the classwork..."

"Are you dumb?!" You exclaimed, almost choking. "What would be the best way to kill a student if you were a teacher?"

The two stare: imagining if you are suffering from a panic attack. "How?" The two ask, after a few seconds, turning their eyes back to your desperately dramatic image.

"Giving private lessons!"

On the day of your first class, you went into despair, but you were still there, in the classroom referred to in the warning letter. Anyway, what would be worse after all? Face your furious father or face the sharp eyes of Lee Taeyong?

You took courage by pulling air into your lungs. The morning breeze flowed deliciously cool through the windows, and the room seemed ghostly with your presence there and no one else. Was too much space for one person.

But just as the door opened, seeing your private teacher come in, completely well dressed, you swallowed.

Soon all the space to spare has become little, really… scarce to be shared with your teacher.

"Can we begin, miss Y/n?" His tone is always contained.

You sit down, picking up your books, notebooks and pencils. Listening to Mr. Lee's voice beginning to dictate, you try to concentrate What happens is that for a while you really can pay attention in class until your head can not stand it anymore...

The outside looks so interesting. The campus grass is always green, and this particular room has a great view. You can see the lake, the trees, and listen to the birds singing.

And you just wanted to be enjoying your vacation. Not in a classroom... With Lee Taeyong...

Suddenly, you choke, your body reacts before your head knows what's going on. "What's so interesting out there?" His voice sounds too close, because his hand rests on your table, over your books. "Can you tell me, miss Y/n?"

You freeze to meet his sharp eyes, his expression are too serious.

"Nothing special, Mr. Lee." iM GOING TO DIE! He stares at you for a few more seconds, and you hold your breath, his eyes are deep and you feel like you're going to drown, until he walks away, shaking his head in disappointment.

"I want you to answer the last 12 questions on the page..." And you swallow, almost literally, a piece of ice.

Do you know the part of thinking that it's not that bad to take private lessons with Lee Taeyong? Cancel it... It's the same hell, only in an updated version.

But, why exactly? Because your tutor give you extra work? Or because this uncomfortable thought going through your head? While the campus was too quiet, and only the birds sang...

The thought of how much your private teacher is too attractive to be there...

"Is this Stockholm syndrome or something?" You babble, when the thought goes too far as you return to the dorm.

You feel that something is going to happen. Deep down... Then your feet stop.

But you ignore, whatever it is, your sixth sense, or your danger alarm whistling.

Meanwhile…

There was a special reason to choose that University, not so special, but it was what made Lee Taeyong accept the proposal of who had once been his teacher too.

The campus was considered the most formidable, covering most of the possible areas of the academic world. Lee Taeyong does not had the opportunity to study there, so that was reason enough to accept that life of professor substitute of the administration and economy college.

Taeyong had once been a formidable student. So it would not be surprising if he was an excellent teacher too.

The grades in the class had taken a leap since he take office… What was the biggest pride of his year...

But there was that student in question, who was completely taking his sleep, who was casting doubt on his own pride as a teacher. You are the problem-student that takes away the young teacher's sleep.

And with his coffee cup, Taeyong paced the music area of the campus, there was a complete desert, and only a few students passed from time to time.

He had just left the coordination, the file was on the extensive paperwork resting on the left forearm.

"What do I do with you, miss Y/n?" He murmured, reading line by line from your school record, from last months, from years ago… until he get to that page that should say things about yourself that you didn't even remember.

About your childhood, more exactly: first place at the Madrid concert in the year 20XX, mode: Piano that was the line that caught his attention.

And he stopped right there in the middle of the hallway, listening to the birds sing.

He re-read the line.

And the idea came the third time.

Taeyong did not even notice the small smile that formed between his lips.

"I think I know very well what to do with you" he whispered, taking another sip of the coffee.

Because by no means Lee Taeyong would let himself fail as a teacher…

Not with you.

You wake up late, completely missed the hour, then run across the campus, wearing a sweatshirt, your jeans and your sneakers.

The fear of being late and getting a big scold from your sharp-eyed teacher.

And as you get closer to the room, you're planning a thousand excuses, even though you knew your sleeping face and your messy hair already condemned that you just woke up because you fell out of bed.

Damn day the cell phone alarm clock did not ring...

"Sorry for the delay..." You already open the door with the words in your mouth, hoping to receive the sharp look of Taeyong. But the door is open, just as your eyes hang, your mouth half-way, The room was empty.

And you look around, completely confused…

Had Lee Taeyong been late? it would be easier for cows to fly

Then you go in and see a little ticket left on the seat you sat on last day "Room 23, block b be there until 10am"

You imagine everything as you walk to the music and arts block... imagine that he will kidnap you that you're going to be killed in some campus alley imagine everything...

Except that you would simply find Taeyong leaning casually against the wall, a lost look in his eyes, wearing only his casual clothes, none of his slim suits, the strands of the hair looking soft and slightly clumsy.

You feel the throat grip when he notices your presence… quickly regretting not having given better care to the hair, by placing your fingers between the strands.

"I'm sorry, I..." You stammer, the truth is that you were two hours late.

"Do you know how many hours I've been waiting here?" He grunts, whimpering, the keys tinkling in his hand. "What happened?"

"I slept too much." You answer simple, it is impossible to lie in front his eyes.

Taeyong crosses arms, and it suddenly becomes strange to think of him as your teacher. But this is something that you do not even notice, and it is well guarded in the back of your head.

"Come on." He says then, with a heavy sigh. "We do not have much time, and it was not easy to get this room"

The door opens, and he stops there, looking at you curiously.

He waits for you to enter first, and when you enter, your eyes widen, heart feels tight.

You stand there, just taking a few steps into the room and Lee Taeyong walks in just behind, opening the curtains, letting the still-cool morning air come in.

But it is as if the world is soundless, completely blind, and there is only what you see before your eyes, the wood clad in material black, bright, yet perfectly polished.

How many years have you not seen a piano? You take courage, awakening from your trance, listening to the slightly rough voice of Taeyong, who closely observes your reaction... 

"It's all yours."

You take one, two, three steps… and your fingers touch the black material.

For how many years you have not touched a piano? The smell fills your nose, the familiar cold passing through the fingertips...

You look at Taeyong with a surprised expression, and he assimilates the expression on your face with a child, when receives just what had asked from Santa Claus.

In fact, the expression on your face delights him, deeply and he contains a smile in the throat.

"What are you waiting for? It was really hard to convince the director, why do not you try?"

You smile and in minutes, you sit down, your fingers slide through the keys, one by one, from left to right.

Taeyong leans against the table, further to the far end of the room, crossing his arms, he watches you closely… The way you test each key, as if checking the pool temperature before finally taking the plunge This makes the smile finally escape from the lips.

You can not see, you're too focused, but Taeyong smiles silently, secretly, not one of his straight smiles, but a sincere smile... Because he thinks it's cute how you press one by one, it's like seeing a child, And he sees you as a child indeed, a child learning to walk Until the moment you actually enter the pool.

Because it happens when he least expects, you simply breathe deeply, your eyes close quickly, your fingers rise only a few centimeters and...

The notes fill the room. In seconds… His smile melts against the lips

Undoes As the notes continue

Your fingers slide, quickly. Taeyong knows this song, knows so well that it feels the chest tighten it's Für Elise, by Beethoven

The expression that takes your face is like a well-hidden trap, so his eyes are unable to escape and then... he is completely trapped.

The notes, the glitter that takes your face, there is a small smile of satisfaction, and the notes become more dramatic as it comes to an end.

The room sinks, in a move of notes, the hallway is taken too, perhaps the whole campus…

or maybe, it's just Taeyong realizing that you're not a child

It’s like a live painting, in real and moving colors.

But you are unable to notice his eyes at least until the notes stop… and then there is only silence, you raise your eyes, cheeks flushed because at times you completely forgot that you were not alone.

Contrary to what Taeyong expects, you smile broadly, thanking in silence, cheeks stained in pink.

"Let's do it like that, miss Y/n." He says, after seconds in silence, clearing his throat. "Have a good productivity during class, I'll let you keep this for the rest of the day" the key swings in your hand.

"But... if you're not a good girl..." The hand closes, causing the key to disappear in seconds, a shiver goes up through your body. "No piano for you."

Obviously, you accept without hesitation. Which causes another smile to appear on the face of your private teacher.

And what happens is that, the new way of teaching ends up working. You pay attention in class, in every word, and write everything down to the smallest detail.

Only to, at the end of class, receive the key from Lee Taeyong.

It is your reward for being a good student, and in the truth, there could be no better incentive for you... The piano had always been your passion, since you had first heard it, still so early in your childhood.

And in the dead of night, when no one can hear you, when everyone is asleep, you take the key left on your desk and face the cold of the campus.

It is at night, at 11pm, that the notes return to give the air of grace.

Für Elise is your favorite bagatella, it's something that marked your childhood, and you play it slowly, enjoying every note… but from time to time you ventures into Turkish March.

But on a specific night, a night colder than normal, with the sky so clean that it would be possible to count all the stars...

Taeyong was having difficulty sleeping, but after all, he always has difficulty sleeping, especially on the days that the mother calls complaining about the difficulties at home about money that is not enough about the father who is getting worse in health about the daughter who does not listen to her advice anymore

And that is the day his mother had called, and she was calling more often

So that night, looking out the window and seeing how beautiful the sky was, set in diamonds of stars, Taeyong decided to take a night walk.. And his feet ended up taking him there, without realizing it... As if the stream of the casuality carried him away.

Or was his ears, unconscious and oblivious to what awaited him.

He slowly approached the door, which was only open for a few inches, and closed his eyes before looking, feeling the notes, letting the heart ease.

The piece you chose for the night was Clair de Lune… And each time your fingers sink into the deeper notes, his chest sinks together, and the skin shiver when then his eyes open, and he sees your silhouette through the gap.

Night after night, you take your key from room 23-b, for the the piano room… And you think no one hears how your fingers dance, because it's the most sincere expression of your soul…

Completely unaware that Lee Taeyong every night gets up and does the same path, only to listen to the melodies that fill the night… Für Elise or Turkish March

But his favorite is Clair de Lune, because his chest shakes whenever he hears it, he can feel it, bathing the body with the notes, entering his flesh, to the bones.

And the truth is that you clean your soul every night, the piano has that effect on you, it cleans up all the hurt, all the stress, and it's like going back to a home whenever you're in this world, a world of your own… Where you can have control of everything, and everything can have control over you, the way the notes take shape as your fingers move, as your soul shapes up with the stream where the notes carry you.

And the music, your fingers, also cleans the soul of Taeyong But you do not know... it's a secret

And in one Saturday morning, you're coming back from the cafe, from your breakfast, when you see him, not too far away, holding a small kitten in his arms, and his gaze seems lost, distressed...

You know that animals are not allowed on campus, and you comes to the conclusion that Taeyong deep inside has such a sweetheart.

And you find yourself thinking about this little scene many times as you try to concentrate on the lesson, but it becomes complicated... it becomes complicated not to think about the man who seems so cold and hostile on the outside, his teacher, the one who always asks for complex and giant questionnaires

And it really becomes difficult to think of the other man, who wears sweaters, who picks up kittens on his lap and puts up posters on campus asking for a possible adoption

Because both are right before your eyes both are the same person

"What happened to the kitten, Mr. Lee?" You ask, between a moment Taeyong picks up to put the sentence on the board.

"No one was interested yet" replies, frowning, looking at you. Your face blushes, as soon as you realize you let the words escape.

"Are you following me, miss Y/n?" He asks, a smile rising between his cheeks. You deny denies with all your might…

And what ends up happening is that Lee Taeyong drags you to help him to get a owner for the little kitten.

You end up giving in, of course, but deep down screaming because you do not know what you're doing. What you're doing is discovering a new side of your substitute teacher... this side that likes to take care of helpless little animals, which helps ladies cross the street, and who buys ice cream for children who are crying about the melted ice cream.

And one thing leads to another, the following happens: It is the last minutes of class, and you deliver the questionnaire in which Taeyong asked to be done the day before...

You've turned the night around answering everything, and you have not had much time with your piano, so you really expect it to be perfect… Impeccable.

And you swallow hard when you put the five pages on his desk.

This time he wears a light blue social shirt, which fits very well on his torso. You sigh... You can understand why the girls go crazy for him. Jesus, how can he be so-

"The twelfth question" he cleared his throat, turning the pages quickly. You bite the tongue. Cheeks burn when he looks you in the eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Lee?" You feel the cold in the belly. But you can melt on the outside...

"Is wrong" and it interrupts.

You remain silent. Raise eyebrows.

And you open your mouth, but the voice only comes out a few minutes later: "Wrong?!?" You exclaim, practically yells. "It can not be wrong, Mr. Lee"

Because it's the question that made you turn the night waken, and you can swear you're right.

"But it is" he insists, frowning at you.

"Please..." you point to the leaves still in his hand "check again, Mr. Lee"

He stares at you for seconds in complete silence. "Well then" and finally says, turning the pages. He re-read. And you wait.

And the corners of his mouth bow. You're losing the patience. "It's still wrong, miss Y/n."

"Read it again" you insist.

Taeyong sighs heavily, tilting his head, analyzing you with piercing eyes.

He smiles, showing his teeth, and it's the most beautiful smile in the world, which makes your heart miss a step.

"Miss Y/n, no matter how I reread it, it will not magically correct itself"

You take a deep breath, quickly enraged… He's clearly joking with your patience, you're sure of it. "I'm sure it's right, I've been up all night working on this, Taeyong!" The words slip through your mouth, and then you see his eyes open slightly for seconds.

So you realize, you called him for the first time by name, not by teacher, not by Mr. Lee… Not for asshole and derivatives...

Taeyong, it's his name and it takes time to him assimilate what came out of your mouth. In a way, cause of something to revolve inside of him. Taeyong, yes, because that's my name... yes, Lee Taeyong, he assures himself

The truth is that you do not see him as a teacher. And it's been a while since.

But when you realize, as you watch his expression lighten slowly, as if he could feel the same impact on his chest, you can not stay there anymore.

You run away, picking up your bag from the chair, but forget your notes, leaving them behind.

"Wait, miss Y/n" and he calls you, you hear the chair being dragged across the floor.

"Excuse me, Mr. Lee" you exclaim, advancing the steps, keeping the maximum distance. "But I'm not feeling very well."

"What about your questionnaire?" "Tomorrow!"

"And the keys?!" You run away.

And Taeyong regrets that he did this bad joke. Because you got right all the questions, including that of number 12.

And that was the night you do not leave your room, there is no Für Elise, no Turkish March, much less Clair de Lune echoing through the music room.

You lie in your bed, hugging the pillow. "In love with Professor Lee" and this sounds wrong on your lips.

"I'm in love with Lee Taeyong" and that yes, when it comes out of your lips, it just seems right. i fELL IN LOVE WITH LEE-FUCKING-TAEYONG

It's simply unbelievable. So unbelievable that Johnny had predicted it would happen a few weeks ago… "It was obvious that this would happen," he said the same night via Skype

The next day you try to forget the reason your heart beats so fast once you enter the classroom. By no means will you accept that you fell for Taeyong!

Turns out he's already in the room, concentrating on his own things You think for seconds that he should be waiting for you. Bullshit, you laugh at yourself.

And in the middle of class, you get lost in the middle of your thoughts...

"Are you okay?" Taeyong notices your total lack of attention, frowning, folding his arms, you feel the worry painting his roughly gentle voice.

You do not respond, just shake hands as a sign that everything is fine, there is no voice to leave.

The class continues, with that heavy chaos that is going through your own head. You get nervous. You can not imagine what's going on in Taeyong's head. But you still try.

Passion is a strange thing, do not you think?

"Y/n, are you feeling good?" And his voice sounds too gentle, as gentle as the touch of his palm pressing against your forehead.

Passion is one of those strange things that happen without a right reason... without any warning...

"You're hot." He says, whit slightly startled eyes "You want me to take you to the-" and, realizing the touch of Taeyong's hand, the spontaneous tone of concern… The snap interrupts him, echoes around the room, you slap Taeyong's hand.

He looks at you, completely confused, the burning stinging the skin.

"I do not think I’m fully recovered from yesterday, Mr. Lee." You whisper, as scared as he. "And I think I should go to the doctor, this should not be happening." You say, getting up.

"Wait" Taeyong says, rushing when he realize that you are approaching to the door, already with all the books collected, "you will not run away again, Y/n.” He holds you in place, holding your wrist.

And the same effect of calling him by his name, you also too, on hearing him calling you by your name.

"Was it because of yesterday?" He asks, the raspy voice tearing through the air.

"Yes...." You nod, voice steady with the anger rising icy to the top of your throat "It's because of yesterday, Taeyong, but it's much more too..." You look him in the eyes. His firm hand is still on your wrist.

"It's because of the damn questionnaires, the classwork and..." "The ones you not even do?" He smiles discredited, still, he does not want to let you go.

"And what's the point? If I do not want to do it I just do not!"

"I am your teacher, Y/n! I can not let- "

"You can not let?" You smile, more discredited than him, with anger flooding your mouth, anger because your chest was burning for him. "Who do you think you are, Lee Taeyong? You're just a teacher and you still do not do your full job..." And then, the fingers loosen on your wrist. But you're not listening to what comes out of your mouth... "You are so incompetent as a teacher, that you let a student fall in love with you"

You do not realize what you said until you saw Taeyong's eyes widened.

And there's an awkward silence between the two of you, and before anything else happens you run away. Again...

You do not know what you just did, or rather, you do not know how far it will take you. Your fear is that Taeyong will never look at you again.

Because the part of not being reciprocal is something that you already expect… But the fear that he will avoid you is bigger, much bigger, so you want to avoid it.

It does not work very well. Because you're sitting on the entry steps of the dorm, hugged on your own knees.

Reflecting what you had said to your teacher. There is so much shame… You want to disappear from the face of the Earth.

"I found you" you hear the breath, and when you look up, you find Taeyong panting, some wires glued against the forehead You get up with a jump.

"Wow, wow" but Taeyong holds up his hands "do not make me run all over campus again, Y/n, I swear you're going to kill that way."

And you stay, there, waiting Taeyong catch his breath.

"Can we forget this for a while?" He asks, and you feel the chest tighten.

It is a few minutes after you are sitting back on the step, Taeyong is sitting a step up. You can not look him in the eye, then it's just you, the dusk sky and Taeyong.

"Why did you leave the piano?" He asks, after minutes in silence. He looks at you firmly.

"Long story” you say. Silence… For too long.

The truth is that Taeyong is nervous as you

"I saw your record..." he confesses. You twist your lips.

"There were all those people, watching me, praising me" and it still hurts, remembering what happened so long ago "no one would ever imagine that among so many people there would be people planning..."

And there are more silence. "My dream was to become a dancer." He says then.

You're taken by surprise, and you look over your shoulder

It seems hard to believe for a moment...

Taeyong? A dancer? You look deep into his eyes.

"It's not only you who have forgotten dreams" He smiles, you can see the pinkish stripe taking over his cheeks.

"So why-"

"Why I did not follow my dream..." There is an awkward grin between his lips.

"The world is too cruel, Y/n... and I opted for what the world offered me…” Your chest hurts, it burns in the truth, you can feel the pain of it, through the voice

"I'm sorry to have said what I said, Mr. Lee, it was not my intention to offend you..."

He giggled.

"I can not believe you accept what world wants to give you... and I like it. That's why I can not accept your apologies."

And you turn around, frowning, just about to argue, or to give better excuses.

When, he says: "Or do you regret of what you feel for me?" You choke on your own breath. It's like a trap, from the lowest type possible, he holds your eyes to his with a simple smile.

He descends a step. And there's no way to escape.

"Because I do not regret it, Y/n" And in seconds he pulls you for a kiss without any hesitation. It's like if the lips already knew the way... As if yearning for touch for too long...

The world explodes inside your head. Taeyong's lips are soft, but the kindness does not last long in the way he kisses you.

The truth is that in minutes you do not even know how you got into your room, locking the door. The kiss that seals your lips to those of Taeyong is desperate, violent, in a hurry that consumes you. And you thank Seohee for leaving.

In the room it's just the two of you, and nothing passes in your head, other than the touches of Taeyong's hands, on your waist, at the nape of your neck, his fingers running through your hair.

"Mr. Lee" you want more of his touch. You always wanted to... It was just so difficult to assume for yourself.

"No" he whispers, breath hitting in your lips. "Call me Taeyong" between one kiss and another placed lightly on your lips, gently, fingers tightening your waist. "Here is only Taeyong, no Mr. Lee" the whispers sound like growls when they reach the edge of your shirt, fingers sliding beneath the fabric. "Call me Taeyong, Y/n"

"Taeyong" you whisper when you feel the icy fingers making their way through your skin. "Taeyong" you bite your lips when his lips go down your neck.

And God, the lips, the hands, the contact of the skin with the warm breath… You're melting.

Through the room, you take one, two steps back and he advances one, two steps. Until you find the bed.

Taeyong is over your body, and you are a mess, feeling his lips sink into the skin of his neck, feeling his teeth. He bites lightly, slowly with the pleasure of feeling his skin, of finally being able to touch you.

Because damn, he's been holding on so long, he's been holding his instincts for so long…

And you sigh heavily, relieved, biting your lips to hold a groan as he lifts your shirt getting rid of your bra so easily, and your breast fits perfectly in the palm of his hand.

The shiver that covers his body is a mixture of agonizing pleasure, and he gently squeezes your left breast, while his lips deal with the right breast.

You moan... and soon Clair de Lune loses the position of favorite melody. He wants to hear more. And once again, he bite your nipple, with the tongue massaging gently.

The hand tightens over your breasts, and your hands are at the nape of his neck, fingers pulling lightly.

You bite your lips, preventing your moans to escape. And it's the same as challenging Taeyong, and no, it's not a good idea to challenge him.

So he is determined to hear more of his sweet moans, then he gets rid of his clothes as fast as possible.

He analyzes his body, with sharp eyes, full of lust in the eyes.

And let me tell you something… Taeyong has divine fingers. You notice it as soon as you feel his fingertips over your belly, breath reaching hot against your breasts when he comes back with wet kisses.

Soon his fingers find the way between his legs, he fits the hand, and you moan.

Fingers sink, and you pant, pulling him closer. His finger movements are gentle at first, letting you get used to the touch.

"Are you okay?" He  asks, from time to time, as the fingers gain more speed, until you can not answer.

Taeyong's fingers come in quickly, you groan, panting, gripping his neck.

He smiles seeing your expressions, and inserts another finger. and then one more… you can not take it anymore, you want so much more from Taeyong.

"Say it" he whispers, sinking his lips on your neck. "Say what you want from me, Y/n"

"I want you to fuck me, Taeyong" you say, and hearing the words coming out of your mouth is enough to make him grunt through his teeth, feeling the stiffen inside his pants.

And you thank Seohee again for having some loose condoms inside the bedside drawers.

Taeyong holds on to your hip, the shirt is no longer on his body, just as the jeans are gone. His hair is messy, his eyes are hazy with heat, and his cock is so hard, throbbing with so much lust. Fuck, he wants so much to wipe you out at once.

But he holds on, his dick slips slowly into you, and he grunts, feeling how wet you are for him; your moans make his dick twist.

He stops then, filling you up completely.

And his eyes do not leave your expression, paying attetion to the way your lips move according to the contact with his body.

Taeyong begins slowly, his hips are gentle, as well as the gaze resting on your face, on your breasts, on how your body shines in the moonlight, with sweat sliding over the skin.

But he can not stand it. "Oh, fuck-" He wants to fuck you so hard.

The movements become deep, strong, but not quick, the hips are no longer so gentle, but his lips do, when they attach to his lips, the tongue takes space, the saliva passing from mouth to mouth, the friction of the skin, the muffled moans… the bed creaking skin beating against the skin.

"Fuck, you fell so good." He growls through the wet noises, his body twitching in the midst of this mess. "So fucking good, babe." Taeyong grunts against his lips.

"Taeyong..." you moan his name, nails digging in his back "Taeyong."

His hips respond by himself, he sticks his face into his neck, panting, moaning softly, grunting a complete mess...

You reach your orgasm with a completely messy rhythm between groans, gasps, calling by the name of your teacher, by the name of Taeyong.

And he continues to thrust into you until he lets a muffled groan against your neck escape, his cock sinks deep inside you, and he cum only a few minutes later.

You and he stand in that position for some more minutes, your body fit perfectly to his, as if your place were always there, waiting for the hearts to come back to the rhythm, waiting for the breath to adjust.

It's hot still, so hot in the middle of the night, where the one that filled the air was not the melody made by your fingers… but the sonata made by their bodies.

Taeyong tightens the hug, pulling his body closer, the skin sticking with his... he whispers something, something like a "you destroyed me, Y/n" and you do not know what that might mean

But, feels like you are destroyed too

The next day, you wake up with a fright. You are naked, there are small marks by your body, but no sign of Taeyong You do not remember when he left, but come on, it's not like a storm was close to taking the skies...

After all is an important day, very important, and having slept so little begins to show its effects when you enter the classroom

Not the classroom where you have your summer classes with Professor Lee Taeyong.

But in the room where a small portion of reprobate students take their seats, playing with their fingers, nervous.

It's the day of the final test, the day you were been preparing for and your heart is racing… not because the test… not for fear of reproving...

But because the night is still being processed in your head, you are still remembering every detail.

When all the students are in the room, you are playing with the pencil, scratching the corner of the wooden table, sudden you hear the door opening and closing soon after.

You raise your eyes with a huge glow in the eyes, the cheeks blush, and a smile voluntarily forms. But soon freezes… and the brilliance falls apart.

Your throat holds, as if tied on a rope. You do not find the suit perfectly lined, much less the sharp eyes, because all you find is your pot bellied, half-bald teacher.

Well, substitute teachers never last long, you think

He would have to leave anyway, you think again, eyes fixed on the solitary paper of the test, while the fingers move, his head is split on two sides.

One that deals with the answers in the test and other one that is sinking into questions.

You finish the test, and sit, waiting for the signal, waiting for anything...

And you receive your test minutes later.

"Congratulations, Y/n," says your pot-bellied professor, unattractive, unlike Mr. Lee. And you should be happy, the note is well highlighted at the top of the page.

"Thank you, sir" you say. But you are far from happy, in fact, you understand what that "destroyed" meant... and this is the right word, when you leave the room, listening to the whispers, rumors about Professor Lee.

You are destroyed, desperately destroyed. But with a thread of hope irrational hope Which leads you to the 23-b classroom, and you pull the door firmly holding that wire.

But there is nothing, nothing besides the piano.

And you stand at the door, your eyes trying to pass to the brain the lack of someone in the room. Lack of something...

Your legs can not resist, and you lean against the wall.

"How can you?" You mutter, and honestly to yourself, your will is to go back in time and punch the face of Lee Taeyong. "How can you run away like this?!" You exclaim, could not be more enraged.

And you could even punch the wall, but you know you're going to break your fists in the process. Of course, that what you really wanted to punch would be the face of Lee Taeyong But where is he? You want to cry.

"Lee-fucking-Taeyong" you exclaim “I fucking love and hate you!” unable to swallow the tears. "How can you fuck me-"

"Shhhhh!" The hand appears just behind, covering your mouth.

And your eyes widen.

"I know you hate me, miss Y/n. But I do not know if this part is reciprocal" And you can feel the harsh whisper just behind, the familiar voice

"But I love you, if that counts." So familiar that you melt completely.

And yes, you understand what the verb destroy can mean because love is something so strange… that gives you that feeling of being completely broken inside…

And about your private lessons?

… kept happening

Only that, this time… really in private.

[princess-in-a-tower]

Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” Arc, Part 1

GRRM has drawn inspiration for ASoIaF from various other works of fiction as well as historical events. The Lord of the Rings and the War of the Roses are two prominent examples. Not far behind those two big ones though is another story, which happens to be one of the author’s favorites: Beauty and the Beast.

Sidenote 1: For those of you who have not watched the following two versions of Beauty and the Beast, I suggest you at least read their summaries before continuing reading this meta.

 La Belle et la Bête (1946)

Beauty and the Beast (1991)

Beauty and the Beast is a fairytale that has heavily influenced Sansa’s arc. Many have commented on the Beauty and the Beast theme in Sansa’s arc before me, and yet no one to my knowledge actually took a step back to look at the bigger picture GRRM has painted. The picture which makes it clear that the outline of Sansa’s story, stripped to its bare bones, is following faithfully the one of Beauty in Cocteau’s Beauty and the Beast.

Sidenote 2: Even though GRRM holds Cocteau’s Beauty and the Beast in high esteem, I believe he is also critical of it to a degree and subverts the plot points he would like to “fix” (for whatever reason), while at the same time taking care to remain as faithful as possible to the original story. This of course is just my own observation while composing this meta, but GRRM’s own words support it, since he admitted:

Ruling is hard. This was maybe my answer to Tolkien, whom, as much as I admire him, I do quibble with. Lord of the Rings had a very medieval philosophy: that if the king was a good man, the land would prosper. We look at real history and it's not that simple.

George R.R. Martin: The Rolling Stone Interview, April 23, 2014

Sidenote 3: This meta series is in no way a shipping manifesto, but rather a critical in-depth analysis of the ASOIAF text in relation to Cocteau’s “Beauty and the Beast” adaptation. As a result it ended up being extremely critical of ships like Sansa x Sandor and Sansa x Tyrion , because they, in no way, parallel the dynamic between Beauty and the Beast, but rather juxtapose it, as will be demonstrated in the following parts of this meta series. If you like those ships and still decide to read on, please remember that you have been warned.

In the very beginning of her story in AGOT it would have been impossible to guess Sansa would become asoiaf’s most prominent “Beauty” figure, mainly due to the fact that GRRM went to great pains to present her like an “evil step-sister” to Arya’s “heroine”.

When we are introduced to Sansa in Arya’s first POV chapter, and even later in her own first POV chapter, on a surface level she comes off as bratty, spoilt, superficial and snobbish. In other words, she is presented to us in a way that makes her look similar to Beauty’s step-sisters:

Beauty lives in the country with her father, a 17th-century merchant who has lost all his money; her brother, Ludovic, whose only interests are drinking and gambling; and her two sisters, Felicie and Adelaide, who are motivated entirely by spite, selfishness and vanity.

La Belle et la Bête (Beauty and the Beast) script

Not only that, but it can be argued that Sansa was Ned’s least favorite daughter with Arya as his favorite (proof of that can be found in the following series of metas: Ned, Sansa and Joffrey Part I, Part II, Part III) and it’s not a secret that Sansa looked forward to leaving her father and his protection for that of her husband’s. All of that links Sansa to Felicie and Adelaide and Arya to Beauty, as you can see in the following quotes:

BEAUTY: That wasn't the first time [Avenant has] asked me to marry him since we lost all our money.

THE MERCHANT (to Beauty): So you want to leave me.

BEAUTY: No, father, I'll never leave you.

[…]

THE MERCHANT: They're real little devils, aren’t they? Let them sulk; I'll soon console them. Tomorrow morning I'll go to the port to see to my business. Then one can marry a duke and the other a prince!

La Belle et la Bête (Beauty and the Beast) script

Another interesting scene is when Sansa wishes to join the queen in the royal wheelhouse, and Arya chooses to get her hands dirty instead:

"You better put on something pretty," Sansa told her. "Septa Mordane said so. We're traveling in the queen's wheelhouse with Princess Myrcella today."

"I'm not," Arya said, trying to brush a tangle out of Nymeria's matted grey fur. "Mycah and I are going to ride upstream and look for rubies at the ford."

A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

This echoes how Adelaide and Felicie wanted to attend the concert at the duchess’ court in the beginning of the film, while Beauty stays back and does chores around the house.

FELICIE(shouting): Beauty, you can wash the floor. We'll be late for the duchess.

La Belle et la Bête (Beauty and the Beast) script

The parallel here is anything but perfect, considering Sansa genuinely wanted Arya to join her in the royal wheelhouse and repeatedly tried to convince her to do so, unlike Beauty’s sisters, who wanted her to be their servant. That is because, as I said above, GRRM made both Sansa and Arya a mix of Beauty and her two “evil” sisters.

What actually makes the above parallel interesting and layered is exactly this mixing. Once you consider that it was Beauty and Sansa who chose to stay back and do what was right/expected of them (which are two vastly different things for each girl because Beauty is a commoner and Sansa is a noble maiden), while Arya and Beauty’s sisters decided to run off and do something more or less selfish for their own pleasure (which again are two anti-diametrical things for the same reason as above).

To wrap up this parallel between Sansa and Beauty’s sister, we see that she never got to ride with the queen:

“Sansa, the good councilors and I must speak together until the king returns with your father. I fear we shall have to postpone your day with Myrcella. Please give your sweet sister my apologies. Joffrey, perhaps you would be so kind as to entertain our guest today.”  

A Game of Thrones - Sansa I

Just like Felicie and Adelaide never got to attend the concert

FELICIE: We were told that the duchess was not receiving, though the court rang with laughter and music.

La Belle et la Bête (Beauty and the Beast) script

Another thing that makes the connection between Sansa and Beauty more pronounced is the introduction of an “Avenant” figure, who is of course Joffrey: the blonde, dashing suitor with a not so hidden affinity for violence and an all around terrible character, with whom Sansa got to spend a whole lot of alone time in her first chapter. Unlike Beauty though, Sansa (and her father) accepts his marriage proposal and delights in spending time with him.

As we can see, by the end of Sansa’s first chapter, GRRM has established both similarities and differences between Sansa and Beauty. In my opinion GRRM decided to keep the core of Beauty’s character intact in Sansa (dutiful, kind, gentle, protective and romantic) and make her work towards the rest. That was accomplished by giving her some “undesirable” traits shared by Beauty’s sisters, which she would shed in later books through her negative experiences that would in turn result in positive character development.

From here on things only get more complicated, because, as I mentioned in the beginning, GRRM liberally subverts the things he disagrees with in Cocteau’s story. Not only that, but he uses a plethora of characters as stand-ins for Sansa’s “Beast” to move the story forward, all of them his foils in different ways each.

They all have one thing in common though, which establishes them as the Beast’s foils: They don’t care about Sansa’s consent. And the fact that men like Sandor Clegane and Tyrion Lannister could have taken more from Sansa but didn’t in the end, doesn't undo the abuse or lack of agency that Sansa suffers in those situations they put her into.

The most powerful force in Beauty and the Beast isn't magic, or even love, but consent. Most retellings of Villeneuve's version are careful to keep it. The Beast is clear that Beauty must know what she's getting into. (In Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch's 1910 version, it's still more explicit: The Beast warns Beauty's father to "be honest with your daughter. Describe me to her just as I am. Let her be free to choose whether she will come or no...") Later, the Beast asks Beauty herself if she comes willingly. And that first dinner is marked by the Beast's deference to her wishes. Beauty's earliest surprise is how much power she wields. Even in his nightly request that Beauty marry him, he defers. Andrew Lang emphasized the power dynamics in 1889's Blue Fairy Book:

"Oh! What shall I say?" cried Beauty, for she was afraid to make the Beast angry by refusing.

"Say 'yes' or 'no' without fear," he replied.

"Oh! No, Beast," said Beauty hastily

"Since you will not, good-night, Beauty," he said.

And she answered, "Good-night, Beast," very glad to find that her refusal had not provoked him.

Lang was one of many who used marriage proposals for the nightly request (Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont's 1756 retelling was the first), but Villeneuve was under no illusions about the story's undertones. In her original, Beast asks Beauty to sleep with him. Beauty's power is the ability to withhold sexual consent.

Beauty doesn't admit love for the Beast until after he releases her (which permits her to rejoin him on her own terms). But this regard for her will is what first softens Beauty's heart. The story's not just reminding young women to look beyond appearance but reminding young men how to conduct themselves. Fairy-tale scholar Jack Zipes outlines the story's social mandate in Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion: "The mark of beauty for a female is to be found in her submission, obedience, humility, industry, and patience; the mark of manliness is to be found in a man's self-control, politeness, reason, and perseverance."

Disney takes that out, and the story becomes significantly darker. Besides their rocky introduction, he punishes her for refusing to eat with him ("If she doesn't eat with me," he bellows, "then she doesn't eat at all!") and physically threatens her. His temper must be tamed before he can love or be loved—that, not his appearance, is the barrier. It's a decided departure from the courtly Beast, and Beauty's now required to forgive his outbursts before friendship can begin—an additional emotional burden. In this, Disney's more akin to 1978 Czech horror Panna a netvor (in which the Beast barely curbs his appetites and Beauty's drawn to him only through loneliness) than it is to the dreamlike tension of Jean Cocteau.

[...]

But Disney's retelling doesn't acknowledge its darkness. Covering threats with musical numbers doesn't count as exploration of subtext. This wasn't the first Beauty and the Beast adaptation to feature a Beast with rough edges, either; a story centered on power dynamics in relationships will shift to include contemporary concerns. But Disney's retelling asks Beauty to forgive abusive behavior, both ignoring the sovereignty of her consent and erasing the Beast's own obligations. And it's such an influential retelling, it's affected how the archetype has applied. By now, the label of a Beauty and the Beast story applies as much to a relationship in which the woman's love "tames" the man as it does to one about looking beyond appearances. (The CW's recent Beauty and the Beast updated the 1987 series(*) but replaced the scholarly, leonine hero with a handsome man with uncontrollable bursts of violent anger; these abusive undertones are the new beastliness. These days, Beauty is trapped in the Beast's S&M penthouse, and his understanding of consent is decidedly murky.)

How Disney's 'Beauty and the Beast' Became the Darkest Tale of All

(*) The 1987 series with the scholarly leonine hero mentioned above is the CBS TV adaptation, which was written amongst others by GRRM himself.

The above article was written in order to criticize the dark retelling of Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast”, but I believe that everything that has been said there about Disney’s version could also be said for Sansa’s “Beauty and the Beast” arc in ASOIAF up until ASOS. And everything that’s been written about the audience’s faulty perception of the archetype can be applied to the readers of ASOIAF as well.

Beauty’s consent is of paramount importance in the original Beauty and the Beast fairytale written by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villenueve, which is something both Cocteau’s film and the CBS TV adaptation stayed true to. And yet, the men who took on the Beast’s role in Sansa’s storyline showed minimal to no respect towards her wishes and an equal amount of concern for her lack of consent. On the contrary, they all used and abused her, each of them in their own way, behaving more like villains than romantic interests. And that is because those men serving as the Beast’s foils are meant to be viewed as villains and not romantic interests, which can be supported by the words of the author himself:

Amazon.com: Do you have a favorite character?

Martin: I've got to admit I kind of like Tyrion Lannister. He's the villain of course, but hey, there's nothing like a good villain.

George RR Martin, Amazon.com, 1999

Martin: I am sometimes surprised by the reactions of women in particular to some of the villains. [unintelligible] Over the years who have written me that their favorite characters are Jaime Lannister, or Sandor Clegane the Hound, or Theon Greyjoy, you know. All of these are deeply troubled individuals with some very dark sides who have done some very dark things.

George RR Martin, interview with Geek and Sundry, June 2012

Commenter 1: Oh please don't cast an old guy for the Hound, his scenes with Sansa are so romantic and erotic, I couldn't bear if it'd feel creepy all of a sudden. Well, that's me making demands. LOL

Martin: Old guy? No, but... the Hound is still a whole lot older than Sansa, and was never written as attractive... you know, those hideous burns and all that... he's a lot more dangerous than he is romantic.

[...]

Commenter 2: LOL, you're such a man. To many of us women, dangerous *is* attractive.

Martin: But no one has any love for poor old Sam Tarly, kind and smart and decent and devoted…

Comments on GRRM’s Not A Blog, August 2009

But why would GRRM decide to change his Beast from the kind and decent Beast archetype into the obviously much more problematic and villainous new one when he started writing AGOT in 1991, just one year after the CBS TV adaptation ended? Considering that 1991 was the year Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast” came out and that one of GRRM’s favorite movies is Cocteau’s “Beauty and the Beast”, I believe it’s not that far-fetched to assume this change can be attributed to the author’s discontent with Disney’s adaptation.

In my opinion, the subversion of the “Beauty and the Beast” trope in Sansa’s arc is the author’s in-text critique of Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast”. By having the Beast figures in Sansa’s arc be dark, abusive and villainous, GRRM wished to showcase how the new “Beauty and the Beast” trope, where Beauty is required to forgive the Beast’s abusive behavior and “tame” him with her gentleness, should not be romanticized, because, in real life, Beauty not only won’t be able to tame the Beast, but she also shouldn’t be required to.

So in away, I believe he is deconstructing this very dark and problematic version of the trope in order to reinvent the original one. And for the deconstruction part he needs foils, but for the reconstruction he needs the actual Beast. And there are foils of the Beast aplenty in ASOIAF, but only one Beast.

The first foil of the Beast will be discussed in the second part of this meta series.

Special thanks to @kellyvela and @lostlittlesatellites for their help in the writing of this meta with their invaluable input and constant support.

EDIT: The rest of the series can be found in the following links part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

[imagine-loki]

God, but my Angel of Music

TITLE: God, but my Angel of Music CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter One: The Interview AUTHOR: xllizette ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are at Avengers Tower for business with the avengers and find yourself unable to sleep. You leave your chambers and wonder aimlessly when a beautiful melody attracts your ears. You begin to follow it until you reach a room and find Loki playing a piano graciously and flawlessly. RATING: PG NOTES/WARNINGS: just a few mentions of partying and alcohol and the effects on some people.

It’s been two weeks since I’ve put in an application to work for Tony Stark. After week one, I decided to party and enjoy the days I have of no worries while they call me. But after this week I couldn’t stand it. I need to work. I’ve practically dedicated my life to be academically smart. Partying with former collegues isn’t as fun as TV shows project them to be. There are all sorts of drunk people; I’ve observed the loud obnoxious, the angry, violent, the happy, all-giggles, and the quiet, observant like myself. Personally I prefer the happy, all-giggles up to a certain point. However, even when being out getting my mind off the interview, I couldn’t help but be disappointed when I didn’t even know if I was going to get the job or not!

This is so nerve-wrecking. The only thing that can take my mind off of the interview is to play a little music. Oh wait. That’s right. My piano doesn’t work. All more of a good reason to get it repaired now. I’m walking over to my phone when it begins to ring.

“Yes, hello, this is Y/N speaking,” I answer.

A very high pitch, yet subtle voice replies with, “Hi Miss Y/L/N, how are you today? This is Pepper Potts, calling on behalf of Mr. Stark. Do you have a moment?”

Holyyyyyyy……

“Yes of course,” I said while trying to hide my excitement. Just as I was doubting they weren’t going to call me. Just my luck!

“We received your application and Mr. Stark is in need of someone with your skills right away.”

“Uh, no I don’t” you clearly heard Mr. Stark say in the background.

“(Out of your conversation)Tony, not now. You clearly do; Leave me alone please,”

“Fine. But I don’t.”

“I’m so sorry about that Miss Y/L/N,” a very apologetic Pepper Potts states.

“It’s no problem,” I say with a sound of relief in my voice.

“Okay going back to business. Can you come in tomorrow at 8 am? The security clearing process takes a while and I would like to start the interview at 10am with a walkthrough of the Stark Tower.”

“Yes of course! I will be there at 8am sharp!”

“Excellent! I look forward to meeting you, Miss Y/L/N. Have a great day!”

“Thank you! Likewise,” I said as I couldn’t believe what just happened.

I wanted to call everyone and let them know, but what if I get the interview and not the job? Then I’ll be a laughing disappointment. I can’t live with that. I’ll wait until I get the job. Yeah, besides why wouldn’t Mr. Stark want me?

“I don’t need her. She’ll just be in my way,” Tony sure wasn’t having it with someone else touching his stuff besides Bruce.

“Tony. You need to get someone else to help you here. When you’re out on missions, who will continue with your work while you’re gone?”

“Uh, Bruce. Duh.”

“TONY.” Pepper sternly called him.

“Pepper.” Sassy Tony just wanted to push Pepper’s buttons. “Okay, let’s make a deal. You hire whoever you want, but they work for, oh I don’t know, you?” He smiles that cheeky smile.

“Tony. She will work for you whether you like it or not. She will be under your wing. You can send her to study with Bruce, or train with Natasha, or help Steve with paperwork. But give the girl a chance. She’s only 24 with a PhD in Engineering,” she finishes with placing a file on Tony’s desk with your information.

“You know I don’t like it when people hand me stuff.”

“I didn’t hand it to you. I placed it on your desk. She will be here tomorrow and you will meet her.”

I went to bed early because I knew I wasn’t going to sleep right away with all this excitement. And although there was a lot of tossing and turning, I managed to sleep a full 6 hours before I began to wake up and not be able to sleep. I woke up at around 5:30 and decided to make some breakfast to calm my nerves and then get ready. So at 7:30 I headed towards the Tower. I didn’t live too far from anything for this same reason; preparation is key. But, boy, was I not prepared for what was to come.

“Miss Y/L/N, welcome. You won’t be needing that,” Happy said as he took my bag and gave it to a security guard. “We will go through this metal detector and then I’ll show you around the tower.”

“But Miss Potts said she will be conducting the-“

“Yes, well, Tony sent me to pick you up and do all that Miss Potts was going to take care of.”

After what seemed an eternity (just 45 minutes) of walking we reached this room where Tony was.

“I think I was able to avoid Miss Potts, Tony. But I don’t think she won’t think of coming in here,” Happy warns Tony. “This is Miss Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Yes, uh, thanks Happy. I’ll take it from here.” Tony dismisses happy then faces me and smiles.

“So tell me, Y/N, why are you actually here for? Not that I don’t want this wonderful PhD in here, but you are very young. You don’t rather want to be out there partying and wasting your life away?” Tony asks.

“Um, well no, Mr. Stark. I-“ you started before being interrupted.

“Please, Y/N, Tony. Formality is not my thing,” Tony insists.

“Tony, I would like to help find world peace.”

“Is that so?”

I nod. He smiles.

“Well, you know we are far from that. And you know that being in here with all of us is life threatening. And you know that if you decide to leave I won’t hold you back.” Tony said almost sadly. His words were said as though he had lost faith in humanity.

“I completely understand and that is why I am here.”

“Very well. Now, we have had issues in the past and we want to take precautions, so this interview is actually a few months long. You will live here in the time being. Everything you need will be paid for including your cell phone, which by the way, please get rid of that old thing.” Yup. I had the oldest of the oldest of cell phones (I’ll let you guys imagine that) and he bought me the one I’ve always wanted. “You need something, just ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. and she will get it for you right away. Now I know Pepper will be barging in here any moment now and when she does she will escort you to your new room.”

“Wait, but what about all my things…m-my apartment…”

“All taken care of. Please, feel free to live as you please. But let me remind you, if we find out you are some kind of spy or evil do-er, you will regret stepping in to my property.” I was shocked that he’d think like that of me but not surprised. I know he’s just trying to prevent an unplanned event, but jeez give me a break. He must have already seen my background.

“I will, Tony. Thanks.” I smiled and just as Tony said Miss Potts arrived and escorted me to my room.

“Oh my I am so sorry Miss Y/L/N. Apparently I became your escort instead of your interviewer. But please feel free to call me Pepper.” She sincerely told me and informed me that my things were going to arrive that afternoon and be set up by dinner time. She gave me to what seemed a credit card and said to spend the rest of the day buying myself whatever I wanted as long as I was back by dinner time and a badge with my picture and name and use it to all doors with a yellow clearance tape. “And this. This will be your weekly schedule Monday thru Friday. If you wish to remain in the interview-candidate position, please don’t miss two consecutive days or a week total of the months you will be here, okay? You’ll have weekends off so please enjoy them.” She closed off the ‘interview’ with a sincere, warm smile and left me to be.

“Thank you.”

[the3flamingos]

8 Things You Will Benefit From If You Do Before 8am Every Day

Life is busy. It can feel impossible to move toward your dreams. If you have a full-time job and kids, it's even harder. How do you move forward?

If you don't purposefully carve out time every day to progress and improve, without question, your time will get lost in the vacuum of our increasingly crowded lives. Before you know it, you'll be old and withered,  wondering where all that time went.

As Harold Hill has said,  "You pile up enough tomorrows, and you'll find you are left with nothing but a lot of empty yesterdays."

Rethinking your life and getting out of survival mode This article is intended to challenge you to rethink your entire approach to life. The purpose is to help you simplify, focus on what's meaningful, and live and work with intention. To live your life BY DESIGN.

When you orient your life around intentions, you can live every moment on your own terms. You are the designer of your destiny. You are responsible. You get to decide. You must decide, because if you don't, someone else will. Indecision is a bad decision.

With this short morning routine, your life will quickly change. It may seem like a long list. But it's really quite simple:

Wake up; get in the zone; get moving; put the right food in your body; get ready; get inspired; get perspective; and do something to move yourself forward.

Let's begin:

1. Get a healthy seven-plus hours of sleep Sleep is just as important as eating and drinking water. Despite this, millions of people do not sleep enough and experience insane problems as a result.

The National Sleep Foundation conducted surveys that revealed at least 40 million Americans suffer from sleep disorders, more than 70 kinds. In addition, more than 40 percent of adults experience daytime sleepiness severe enough to interfere with their activities at least a few days each month -- with 20 percent reporting problem sleepiness a few days a week or more.

On the flip side, getting a healthy amount of sleep is linked to increased memory, longer life, decreased inflammation, greater attention and focus, and lower stress. And much more--Google it.

The rest of this post is worthless if you don't make sleep a priority. What does it matter if you wake up at 5 a.m. if you went to bed three hours earlier? You won't last long.

2. Prayer and meditation to facilitate clarity and abundance After waking from a healthy and restful sleep session, prayer and meditation are crucial for orienting yourself toward the positive. What you focus on expands.

When you start your day grateful for everything you have been given, you start your day with an abundance mindset. When you think in terms of abundance, you stay open to limitless opportunity and possibility. And when you start with that clarity, you will attract the best the world has to offer and not get distracted.

3. Hard physical activity Despite endless evidence of the need for exercise, only one-third of American men and women between the ages of 25 and 64 engage in regular physical activity, according to the Centers for Disease Control's National Health Interview Survey.

If you want to be among the healthy, happy, and productive people in the world, get in the habit of regular exercise. Many people go immediately to the gym to get their bodies moving. I have lately found that doing yard work in the wee hours of the morning generates an intense flow of inspiration and clarity.

Whatever your preference, get your body moving. Exercise has been found to decrease anxiety, stress, and the chance of depression. It is also related to higher success in your career. If you don't care about your body, every other aspect of your life will suffer. Humans are holistic beings.

4. Consume 30 grams of protein Donald Layman, professor emeritus of nutrition at the University of Illinois, recommends consuming at least 30 grams of protein for breakfast. Similarly, Tim Ferriss, in his book The 4-Hour Body, recommends 30 grams of protein 30 minutes after waking up.

Protein-rich foods keep you full longer than other foods, because they take longer to leave the stomach. Also, protein keeps blood-sugar levels steady, which prevents spikes in hunger. Eating protein first decreases your white carbohydrate cravings. These are the types of carbs that get you fat. Think bagels, toast, and doughnuts.

Ferriss makes four recommendations for getting adequate protein in the morning: 1) Eat at least 40 percent of your breakfast calories as protein; 2) do it with two or three whole eggs (each egg has about six grams of protein); 3) if you don't like eggs, use something like turkey bacon, organic pork bacon or sausage, or cottage cheese; or 4) you could always do a protein shake with water. For people who avoid dairy, meat, and eggs, there are several plant-based proteins. Legumes, greens, nuts, and seeds all are rich in protein.

5. Take a cold shower Tony Robbins starts every morning by jumping into a 57-degree-Fahrenheit swimming pool. Why would he do such a thing?

Cold-water immersion radically facilitates physical and mental wellness. When practiced regularly, it provides long-lasting changes to your body's immune, lymphatic, circulatory, and digestive systems that improve the quality of your life. It can also increase weight loss, because it boosts your metabolism. A 2007 study found that routinely taking cold showers can help treat depression symptoms, often more effectively than medications. That's because cold water triggers a wave of mood-boosting neuro-chemicals that make you feel happy.

So jump in. Your heart will beat like crazy, and then, after like 20 seconds, you feel fine.

For me, a cold shower increases my willpower and boosts my creativity and inspiration. While standing with the water hitting my back, I practice slowing my breathing and calming down. After I've chilled out, I feel super happy and inspired. Plus, it's healthy to do something in the morning that kind of freaks you out. It gets you feeling alive and sets the tone for living outside your comfort zone.

6. Listen to or read uplifting content Ordinary people seek entertainment. Extraordinary people seek education and learning. It is common for the world's most successful people to read at least one book per week. They are constantly learning.

I can easily get through one audio book per week by listening during my commute to school and while walking on campus. Taking even 15 to 30 minutes every morning to read uplifting and instructive information changes you. It puts you in the zone to perform at your highest.

Over a long enough period of time, you will have read hundreds of books. You'll be knowledgeable on several topics. You'll think and see the world differently. You'll be able to make more connections between different topics.

7. Review your life vision Your goals should be written down -- short term and long term. Taking just a few minutes to read your life vision puts your day into perspective.

If you read your long-term goals every day, you will think about them every day. If you think about them every day, and spend your days working toward them, they'll manifest.

Achieving goals is a science. There's no confusion or ambiguity to it. If you follow a simple pattern, you can accomplish all of your goals, no matter how big they are.

A fundamental aspect of that is writing them down and reviewing them every single day.

8. Do at least one thing toward long-term goals Willpower is like a muscle, because it depletes when it is exercised. Similarly, our ability to make high-quality decisions becomes fatigued over the course of the day. The more decisions you make, the lower their quality  and the weaker your willpower.

Consequently, you need to do the hard stuff first thing in the morning. The important stuff. If you don't, it simply will not get done. By the end of your day, you'll be exhausted. You'll be fried. There will be a million reasons to just start tomorrow. And you will start tomorrow -- which is never.

So your mantra becomes: The worst comes first. Do that thing you've been needing to do. Then do it again tomorrow.

If you take just one step toward your big goals every day, you'll realise those goals weren't really far away.

[angeltriestoblog]

Unnecessary life update

i.

I have officially made it to the halfway point of this quarter. And I don’t mean to sound morbid but I didn’t expect to at all!

It’s just that I’ve recently learned that chronic sleep deprivation actually does lead to premature death and I’ve slept at three in the morning everyday since I started online schooling. (Though actual scientific evidence has always been available on the Internet, I found it easier to believe that this was a hoax.) But concerning as it may be, the past two weeks have been so demanding of my time and energy, resting didn’t seem like an option.

ii.

Much to the dismay of Freshman Angel, most organizations in Ateneo require an interview as part of the application process. I remember signing up for three departments in my home org back then: I sweated my way through one screening, completely flunked the other, and ghosted the last. I also applied to be part of our hosting pool and made a run for it at the last minute: despite having spent only two weeks on campus, I easily found a secret passageway leading to the nearest exit just so that I wouldn’t have to run into the officer in charge of my audition.

Given the unfortunate display of cowardice, it’s hard to believe that this year, I found myself on the other side. I conducted several ICs (rebranded to individual conversations) in an attempt to welcome freshmen, give them a picture of what awaits them in ACTM, and hopefully serve as one of their first friends, if I built enough rapport with them. 

The week after, I had to conduct interviews and screen all hopefuls who wanted to make it into my department. I only spoke with 13 of them through a screen but I had to go through three times more application forms, interview footage, and assessments to determine who would make it to our final line-up. One night, I binge-watched the recordings of all the interviews I conducted in chronological order and I didn’t know if I found my waning energy levels depressing or funny. Toward the last few, I refused to turn on my camera because I had gotten a sudden allergy attack.

iii.

And as if the load I bear as an associate vice president in ACTM wasn’t heavy enough, I joined five other orgs last recruitment week. I wouldn’t go and call the quarantine a blessing because I’m not an asshole but these past few months have made me realize that I want to do and be so many things in life and I missed the opportunity to start on them earlier, since I spent the first few years of college hanging around with no end goal in mind. So in a fit of impulsiveness, I signed up for:

The Development Society of the Ateneo, where I will be working either as an advocacy or consultancy trainee under the research and development department (depends on how my interview this Thursday fares);

Ateneo Education Geared Towards Empowerment, where I will be gathering data from our partner communities to help the organization provide quality education given the online setting;

Ateneo Association of Communication Majors, where I will be under the research and development department yet again of MIRLab, their documentary production house;

Ateneo PEERS, where I will be part of a peer support program intended to help in my self-improvement, and that of others as well;

Project Kabuhayan, where I will be participating in initiatives geared towards empowering micro, small, and medium enterprises

I had general assemblies for most of them: had to ditch two for a midterm, and will be watching the recordings tomorrow. I didn’t even have to talk in any of them; simply watch the officers speak about their projects for the year then head on over to my designated breakout room. But the mere idea of being perceived by hundreds of Zoom call participants was already enough to drain my social battery.

iv.

To top it all off, my major tasks for all three subjects I’m taking this quarter were due last Friday. I had a group podcast for Philosophy class which we had to shoot twice on the busiest day of my week. I wanted nothing more than to get it over with, so when we wrapped up our first attempt, we were ready to let it go through some rushed post-production and submit it without giving it a second look. But I couldn’t stomach the thought of submitting subpar work when the task is supposed to be easy, given enough discipline.

Another group I was a part of had a marketing plan (you’ll never guess which subject it was for) that proposed the rebranding of Adidas Originals to cater to an older target market, or “the active ageing”, as we liked to call it. We only found out a couple of hours before the deadline that our professor was not accepting anything over 10 pages just when we had hit the 40-page mark. All of our well-researched, comprehensive parts had to be cut down significantly, which was the equivalent of flushing many sleepless nights down the drain.

And of course, I had a case study and midterm to accomplish for Law. The minute I received the message confirming the submission of my answers, I plopped down on my bed and napped. Later on that night, I released all the pent-up tension in me by going on my first ever e-numan. I never got the logic behind drinking alcohol in front of my computer: I always thought it was a sad attempt to replicate the bustling nightlife of Katip or the intimate energy of barkada chillnumans in condominiums. But I guess all I needed was the right company, and some sweet-tasting Novellino.

Anyway, before this turns into a full-on advert for a brand that isn’t even sponsoring this post, let me move on.

Reading that probably exhausted you. As the one who had to live through all that, I can tell you: it was even more hectic than you think. Before this pandemic was a thing, my schedule was clear-cut. I could tell the days of the week apart, and appreciate the endless possibility brought by Friday evenings. I could wake up at eight on Saturday morning, smile to myself because of how early it is, and go back to sleep without any feelings of guilt.

Now, the line that separates work and home has been completely obliterated. The Internet promotes that I have to be at the top of my game all the time. Every moment spent in rest and recreation is a moment wasted when there’s so much to do, always somewhere to be even if I’m technically not allowed to leave the comfort of my own home. 

I would sometimes report to my friends that I threw my circadian rhythm out the window, which would be met with the same well-meaning outcries. “What the hell! Drop all your commitments! Pace yourself! Sleep early!”. I think they know by now that this often falls on deaf ears. Ironically, whenever I observe or hear of friends falling into the same patterns as me, I’m often one of the first to reprimand. I sentence them to early bedtime like a stressed suburban mother of two, and check in on them constantly to see if they’re doing alright. I tell them not to pressure themselves to perform at their very best, while working myself to the bone, writing this ~2,000 word essay at half past two in the morning.

But one conversation I had with one of my friends stood out. He told me how proud he was of me: that even if I’m so busy juggling so many things, it all pays off in the end because I’m genuinely happy and fulfilled. I get to see the fruits of my labor and share it with the world.

Which is so true. I honestly enjoy the success that comes from this hyperproductivity, and take pride in the output that I manage to churn out. I’m willing to give up hours of sleep if it means getting to do what will help me make my pipe dreams a reality, or create something that sets my soul on fire.I don’t mind going out of my comfort zone if it’s to talk to new people who have the potential of being some of my greatest friends in the future, or advocating for causes that I’m passionate about. 

In fact, I am so willing to prolong my period of working to welcome the new members of my department or create even more articles to talk about pressing cultural phenomena. It will be hard as hell while the sacrifice is still ongoing but I always know that it will lead to something greater and bigger than I am. 

Besides, when I feel like I can no longer take it, I don’t think I’ll have it in me to force myself. It might not look like it but I am afraid of the serious health risks and will try to slot in more time for sleep if need be. But I have no plans of backing out of anything right now since I’m still on top of everything. Guess I’m fueled by a genuine desire to give/be/do as much as I can, while I still can. 

v.

Where did this post even go, honestly… This was supposed to be a simple life update, complete with a pop culture recommendation to supplement my experiences. I did not expect it to spiral the way it did so now I have no idea how to transition from one part to the next in a way that isn’t entirely awkward. Oh well.

I managed to preserve my sanity these past two weeks by listening to only one artist. Anyone who follows me on Spotify must think that their Friend Activity tab is glitching but the rumors are indeed true: I have been listening to chosen songs from The Boyz’ discography on a constant loop, like an actual zombie. Count on me to get into a new K-Pop group during the busiest week of the quarter as a coping mechanism.

I was an anti of this group when they first debuted because they are home to a former Produce 101 contestant whom I hated. (Still do, up to now. Don’t know how to reconcile my conflicting feelings.) So you could say I was heavily biased from the start and refused to give them a chance. Thankfully, one of my best friends recently converted after watching them on Road to Kingdom and sent me some of their performances to reel me in. Since I am a girl with a working brain and pair of eyes, I was easily impressed. When they came back recently with The Stealer, I officially fell and made no active efforts to get up.

If there are any Deobis reading, (1) congrats, you are a person of taste; (2) please be my friend. My current favorite songs other than their latest title track are No Air, I’m Your Boy, and Break Your Rules. I’ve also started most mornings with their Danger live stage. Who needs caffeine when you have acrobatic stunts and good-looking men?

I also have a lot of exciting things coming up, which I just felt the need to share:

I’m going to be a panelist at a talk for Developh, an organization I’m a part of which leverages technology for social good. This Friday, October 16th, I’ll be joining three brilliant go-getters from different fields to talk about my internship at makesense Philippines (which warrants another blog post) as well as my experience as a freelance writer. 

I have a couple of published pieces in the pipeline right now that I absolutely cannot wait to share! I honestly think they’re some of my favorites. Over the past few weeks, I have written about Internet study communities, the Subtle Asian Dating Facebook group, and unpaid internships. I’ve also pitched a couple more to my bosses and they’ve given me the green light at the same time so yes, once again, I am running on tight deadlines.

I’ll be applying for internships once this quarter is over and I’m already considering a couple of start-ups as good prospects. I’m making my personalized CVs for each company and saving the contact details of the designated point people in a neat little Notion spread for easy access.

Feels weird to end this post with stay safe and healthy, and don’t forget to rest. Maybe I’ll just make that a note to self.

Love and light,

Angel