#i honestly imagine it would be REALLY easy for pg to handle the others if he can sense when theyre coming or smthin

[mute-call]

srry my pg playlist is making it impossible not to think about mikerophone so. literally all i can picture rn is ghost!pg sitting on mike's desk, chatting away with him on the phone during shifts & when mike comes in on off hours. your long distance boyfriend who's right next to u 🥺

[smolwritingchick]

Forced To Believe Chapter 28- Is That You Being Serious?

Chapter Summary: Morgan tries her best to survive with her team for Survivor Series

Words: 10,000+

------

'Smackdown, backstage'

Morgan was backstage in her Shield attire and a cap that had The Shield's logo on it. The cap was black and on her head backward with her hair out and curly at the end. She was with Kaitlyn, chucking at a joke she just told. 

"So, what was up with Luke saving you on Raw?" Kaitlyn asked.

"I...honestly don't know," Morgan replied, trying to forget about the situation.

"Does Dean know?"

"I don't think so."

"You plan on telling him?"

"I don't think it's a big deal. Plus, you know how worked up he can get."

"Haha, you've been attracting some weird men lately. I saw Goldust creeping you out. That was funny."

"It's not funny..."

"Yes it is." Kaitlyn giggled.

Morgan rolled her eyes. "I think he's doing mind games to creep me out so I won't be on my toes to support my team at Survivor Series."

"You know, I've been watching the Wyatt family's matches with Cody and Goldust. Luke looks like he does a lot of damage to Goldust."

"He always does damage, doesn't he?"

"If I were you, I would be alert. We all know what the Wyatts are capable of. What happens if they kidnap you?"

"Can we stop talking about them? And I don't think that will happen­-"

"And what happens if it does? Morgan, you can't always be that tough chick and think nothing is going to happen to you. One day, you are going to be alone, with no Shield, no Total Divas, no one. Your boyfriend isn't going to be your knight and shiny armor; your Total Divas aren't gonna be your backup. And you know what? I can imagine that. I can imagine that on...Survivor Series." She snapped as the crowd 'Oohs'

Morgan looks at her in disbelief and confusion. "I don't understand, where is this coming from?"

"First of all, you are a Total Diva. I'm a non Total Diva. Total Divas get to win the matches, they get to do everything and win everything, but you know what? At Survivor Series, you guys are gonna look stupid when the Non Total Divas get the win." Kaitlyn says with seriousness. She didn't look like she was joking at all. It was like she really wanted to tell Morgan this for a while now.

"I don't get everything..."

"As soon as you stopped being my manager, you've become a high rising star. Higher than me."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

"I'm trying to make a point."

"Well, your point is wrong. I believe I worked hard to get here,"

"It's only because you are related to Chyna, right? People expect you to be just like her. To bring some of the Attitude Era back to the PG WWE. Is that it?"

"No, I told you and everyone here that I don't want to follow in Chyna's footsteps. I want to be Morgan Lopez and that's what I'm doing. You know what? I see now. I guess AJ got into your head, huh?" Morgan comes to a sad conclusion. She knew AJ got inside her head. This was not the Kaitlyn she knew.

"Did your new hair dye screw your head up a little? Maybe you should go back to black and blond instead of being a brunette." Morgan added.

"Look, we may have to go against each other. The Shield aren't going to be there to help you, and I can almost guarantee that your little Total Divas are going to get eliminated faster than a spear. I'm just telling the truth. I don't think you can handle being alone during Survivor Series. Am I right or am I wrong?"

"I don't get how you can say that to a friend."

"Why are you avoiding the question? We have to put our friendship aside and do business. And to give you a little word of advice, I'm not going to go easy on you and the reason you won the Divas title at Money in the Bank was because I went easy on you. I regret that now and that won't happen again. Morgan, I just doubt you will survive at Survivor Series. But I want you to prove to me and all the doubters that you can do it. I can't sugarcoat things for you anymore. You've come a long way. Now show me how far you've come." She walked past her as Morgan watched her leave.

Doubt was shown on Morgan's face and also shock. She was at a loss for words and couldn't think of a comeback. In the background was Luke Harper, watching her with his head tilted to the side before the segment ended.

"Wow, talk about a reality check from Kaitlyn," Cole said.

"What was Luke doing there?" JBL asked.

'Later On'

The Shield takes on Rey and The Usos. Morgan got distracted easily because all she could think about was Kaitlyn's words. She was at ringside near the ramp, standing there, still pondering. 

During the match, she didn't notice Seth and Dean outside the ring and The Usos hitting a double dive onto them. She was an inch away from getting hit, while she was standing there.

"What in the world is going on with Morgan? Did she not see The Usos? She almost got hit." JBL exclaimed.

Roman gets off the apron and makes his way towards her as the Usos go back in the ring. 

He grabs her shoulders. "Are you blind?" He asked.

Morgan pushed him off of her. "Don't yell at me! Are you kidding me?" She snapped at him. 

Dean and Seth quickly held Morgan back while Roman was taken aback by her outburst.

"What are you talking about? I didn't yell at you." Roman exclaimed. "What is your problem?"

"Everyone wants to lecture me. I didn't do anything. Just leave me alone!"

"What the hell is going on with you tonight?" Dean exclaimed.

"What is going on with Morgan?" Cole asked.

Later on in the match, while The Shield was distracting the ref in the ring, they were waiting for Morgan to do a sneak attack on Jimmy Uso who was in the ring but she was still standing, thinking about Kaitlyn's words. 

"Morgan! You missed your cue!" Seth yelled.

His yelling made her look up. "What?" She asked, not knowing what he was talking about.

Seth face palms. "You've gotta be kiddin' me..." He sighed.

"This is a first. The Shield are pretty upset with Morgan tonight." Cole said.

During the end of The Shield's match against Rey and the Usos, Roman spears both of the Usos and takes his attention to Rey as he puts him into a powerbomb hold. He walks to the ropes but Rey manages to take him out of the ring. Rey trips Seth into the 619 position and runs to the ropes. Morgan manages to grab his legs and bring him down but the ref sees it. 

"Morgan! You're out of here!" The ref yells as the crowd cheered

"What? I didn't do anything! I didn't do anything!" she exclaimed.

"I saw you! I saw you grab his legs!"

"Are you kidding me!?" Seth shouted at Morgan. "What the hell happened!?"

"I'm sorry!" She yelled.

"Morgan! You're out of here! Go!" The ref yelled. 

She reluctantly starts walking back up the ramp but when she does, Rey hits the 619 on Dean to win the match. She looked disappointed that The Shield lost.

Moments later, The Shield meet up with her on the ramp.

"What the hell, Morgan?" Seth asked.

"Why is everyone blaming me?" She exclaimed

"Rey is back with a vengeance on Friday Night Smackdown," Cole said

"Welcome back Rey," JBL added.

'Backstage'

The Shield storm backstage. They were giving Morgan the cold shoulder as she tried to catch up with them. 

"Guys, I'm sorry." She said but got ignored. The ignorance sparked her anger. "Okay, first of all, I'm trying to be nice here, so don't ignore me. It's like you guys are lecturing me."

"We're not. We just want to know what the hell happened." Seth declared.

"Look. I'm not thinking clearly right now." She said as she held her head. "I've been going through a lot of stuff lately."

"What stuff?" Dean asked.

"You better start thinking clearly. Survivor Series is this Sunday. You need to get your head in the game." Roman reminded.

"Why does everyone keep yelling at me?" Morgan exclaimed.

"Morgan, we're not yelling at you." Dean's voice got sterner. "What's going on with you?"

"All the things that Kaitlyn said, I just­-"

"Are you kidding me? You are going to worry about 1 person during our match which we lost?" Seth asked.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to be the cause of you guys losing at Survivor Series." She grumbled.

"About that...Morgan, I'm having doubts about you managing us at Survivor Series." Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

"What?" She looked at him in shock as Seth and Roman agreed. It was a tough choice but they started to have doubts. "So, everyone is doubting me now huh? Right?"

"Just sleep it off, all right?" Dean lifted her chin gently before walking away with Seth and Roman.

Morgan scoffed softly. "Unbelievable..." She retorted as tears ran down her face. 

She was frustrated and upset with herself. She sat on the black storage box and looked down, silently crying. Moments later, she heard chucking and started to look a little scared as the crowd cheered, knowing who it was.

"The Rose with thorns does not deserve this. She deserves to be comforted...cherished...we wouldn't do that to you Rose...We would treasure you." A chilling voice said. 

She turned around but didn't see anyone. She turned back around the see The Wyatt family standing before her. She let out a loud 'Ahh!' out of surprise as she began breathing heavily out of shock and fear. 

"Shh, my dear..." Bray wiped a tear from her face.

"Wha-­what do you want from me?" She asked in a wary tone.

"We are not here to make you fear us...we are here because we understand you...we have watched you for the past week now and you have intrigued the family. Rose, we will be waiting for you. You'll know when the time is right, my rose." He said.

Bray left with Luke and Erick as Morgan watched them, confused.

The camera goes back to Cole and JBL.

"Gosh, what must Morgan be thinking right now? She's going through a lot now. Can she handle this?" Cole asked.

"We'll have to find out," JBL said

'Later'

Later on, AJ was in a handicap match against Cameron and Naomi while Tamina was at ringside. Cameron and Naomi push Tamina down at ringside and grab AJ, who was trying to escape the match, back to the ring. Naomi gets in the ring but when Cameron gets on the apron, Tamina grabs her down the apron as she hits the apron face first. She attacks Cameron while the ref is distracted and in the ring, Naomi takes control of AJ.

Morgan comes on the stage as the crowd cheers. "It's Morgan!" Cole exclaimed.

Tamina turns around and frowns. 

"What do you want?" Tamina yelled. "You gonna do something?"

"Yeah, yeah I am," Morgan said before marching down the ring. 

But then, Naomi hits AJ with a kick and pins her for a two count. Tamina gets on the apron but then Morgan runs down the ramp and grabs her by the ankle to bring her down. Tamina lands on her feet and tries to clothesline her but she ducks and connects with a spinning kick in the face.

"Oh! What a kick by Morgan!" Cole exclaimed.

"That's what you get!" Morgan yelled.

When Cameron gets on the apron, AJ knees her back to ringside. But when she turns around, she gets hit with the rearview and Naomi pins her for the win.

'Somebody call my momma' comes on as Cameron gets in the ring and gets her hand raised in victory with Naomi by the ref. 

"Here are your winners! Cameron and Naomi!" Lilian announced. Morgan gets in the ring and celebrates with them.

"Huge win for Naomi, taking out the Diva's Champion," Cole said. Tamina decides to step up and attack the three divas from behind. "Oh no, Tamina is not happy."

"She's tired of the cheap shots by Morgan," JBL looked on. 

Tamina throws Cameron and Naomi out of the ring and turns her attention to Morgan. She takes out her ponytail and glares at the Philly Diva, who is holding her head in pain.

Tamina grabs her by the hair. "You think you can beat me, Morgan? Huh?!" She yelled in her face before hitting the Samoan drop on her. She gets on the ropes and does the splash on her as the crowd 'Ohs'

"That was a sick splash. Just nasty." Cole exclaimed.

"This is gonna be you at Survivor Series. You will never beat me." Tamina trash talked. "Maybe you should watch your back this time."

"Did Morgan's attack against Tamina backfire?" Cole asked.

"She helped Cameron and Naomi win but Tamina got the last laugh in this one. What will happen with Morgan at Survivor Series?" JBL asked.

--------

'Sunday, hours before Survivor Series'

Melanie was shaking out of nervousness in the Diva's locker room. 

"Why are you nervous?" Celeste asked, already in her wrestling attire.

"Creative wants me to show some moves that The Shield does," Melanie responded

"That's awesome that you get to act like The Shield. You'll do fine. How are you going to portray Roman Reigns?"

"That's the problem. I don't think I can."

"You should ask Joe."

"I should. Good idea." Melanie left the Locker Room and walked to find him. She sees him, already in his wrestling attire, stretching. "Joe! I need your guidance!"

"What's up, baby girl?" He smiled.

"I need help with trying to portray your character."

"Oh yeah, for your match right? I heard about that. Give me a roar."

"Um...roar!" Melanie exclaimed by saying the word roar.

He chuckled. "That was the fakest roar I've ever heard. Mel, make it realistic. At least do a battle cry. Be angry and vicious. Just remember what you did with the Wyatts on Raw with that segment."

Melanie started to remember her screaming and yelling. She then does a loud battle cry. 

"There you go. Do it again." He advised. After 5 minutes of mimicking the character of Roman Reigns with Joe, she finally got it. "You got it."

"Thank you, so much!" She hugged him.

"No problem." He hugged her back.

'Backstage'

Morgan was walking while playing with her hands. She sees The Shield getting ready for their match and walks up to them. 

"Hey." She softly greeted. "Look, I'm sorry, for all the crap I've said and done on Smackdown. And, I really want to support you guys in your match tonight. I slept it off, I'm not mad, or anything. None of Kaitlyn's words are getting to me, I'm ready to go."

The Shield look at each other before cracking a smile at her. "We forgive you grapes," Roman replied.

"Great. You guys are my boys and I'm The Shield's girl. We gotta stick together no matter what. So are we ready to serve some justice?"

"Hell yeah. Now let's serve some justice." Seth said as they all bump fists

'In The Ring'

Rey, The Usos, and The Rhodes Brothers were already in the ring, while The Real Americans were on the ramp, with Zeb doing a promo about twerking. Zeb tried to twerk but his hip started to bother him as the crowd was amused. 

"Enough! Enough Zeb! None of these people paid to listen to you talk. And none of these people wanna see you twerk." Cody said before twerking a little bit.

'Sierra'

'Hotel'

'India'

'Echo'

'Lima'

'Delta'

'Shield.'

"Accompanied by Morgan and weighing in 707 pounds, the United States Champion Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins, and Roman Reigns, The Shield!" Justin announced. 

"You think Morgan can twerk?" JBL asked.

"Maybe we should ask her," King replied.

"What a way to kick off Survivor Series," Cole said as The Shield got over the barricade. Morgan bumps fists with The Shield and The Real Americans.

'Ding Ding Ding' 

Cody Rhodes and Dean Ambrose start things off. 

"What a night this is for The Shield. Tonight marks the one year anniversary of The Shield. Morgan, Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins and Roman Reigns have all debuted at Survivor Series. Morgan started out as Kaitlyn's friend to help her against Eve while The Shield triple powerbombed Ryback. A lot has changed since then." Cole looked on.

"Remember when Morgan feuded with The Shield?" King asked.

"Brings back some awesome memories," JBL said

"Didn't she push Seth Rollins through a table with the help of Ryback at TLC?" King asked.

"Yeah, and she low blowed Reigns and gave Ambrose 15 chair shots. I guess The Shield likes to forgive and forget." Cole replied.

Dean and Cody start to have a back and forth match until Dean knees him to the stomach. 

Seth laughed. "How's that feel?" He asked

Dean starts to stomp on Cody at the corner while the ref tries to push him off. Dean's temper got the best of him as he started arguing with the ref. 

"Dean! Don't lose your cool!" Morgan exclaimed. 

All of a sudden, Dean gets eliminated with a roll up by Cody. The crowd goes wild while Morgan's jaw drops.

"Cody Rhodes eliminated Ambrose," Cole exclaimed. 

Dean was shocked as Justin announced that he just been eliminated. 

He starts lashing out and he shoves Goldust's face before getting punched by Cody and goes out of the ring.

"I guess his second year isn't as good as his first year," JBL said 

Roman and Seth get in the ring and throw Goldust and Cody out of the ring. The Usos kick The Shield out of the ring and kick the Real Americans out of the ring on the other side, near the announce table, as the crowd gets hyped. One Uso dives on The Shield while the other dives on The Real Americans. 

"We got ourselves some flying Usos! Welcome to Survivor Series!" JBL announced.

The Rhodes Brothers were still out of the ring as Dean went backstage. 

Morgan turns her attention to Cody. "You can't twerk! You can't twerk!" She yelled.

"You can do better?" Cody asked. 

Goldust starts twerking with Cody in front of her as the crowd cheers. The crowd starts chanting 'Twerk' to Morgan as she looks at the crowd and then back at the Rhodes Brothers.

"Are you kidding me? You're doing it wrong!" She pointed out before twerking in front of them as the crowd cheered.

"She's twerking!" King said, screaming in a high pitched voice. 

Goldust was backing up while holding his heart while Cody started laughing.

"That's how you do it." She spread her arms apart.

"Haha, I love it. A twerking battle between Morgan and The Rhodes brothers." JBL said. 

She laughed and had a grin on her face while shaking her head. Cody heads back into the ring as one of the Usos throws Seth inside the ring.

"Cody's team has a 5 on 4 advantage now," Cole said. 

Once Goldust gets tagged in by Cody, he takes control of Seth and Antonio before Jack takes control when he gets tagged in.

"Stay on him." Morgan supported the Real Americans. 

She watched the Real American's teamwork against Goldust and was impressed. She could see them as tag champs one day. 

As the match progresses, a fan tweets 'Haha, Morgan and The Rhodes Brothers are funny. #MorganTwerks'

Goldust tags in Rey and starts to do his signature moves on Jack. He tags in the Usos and they eliminate Jack with the splash. 

"It is now 5 on 3!" Cole exclaimed.

"We still got this. Keep a cool head." Morgan said to The Shield as Antonio faced Jey Uso. 

Antonio manages to do the big swing on Jey over 14 times and then does it to Jimmy who gets in the ring.

"Swing him all night!" JBL exclaimed. 

Antonio was a little dizzy after swinging Jimmy while Jimmy managed to tag in Cody. Cody puts Cesaro in roll up pin to eliminate him. Morgan's eyes widen and she looks at Seth and Roman.

"Don't panic." She calmly said.

"It is now 5 on 2!" Cole exclaimed.

She gets on the apron to talk to The Shield. "Okay, there's five of them, two of you guys. Don't be intimidated by the numbers game just because it's not in your favor."

Roman and Seth nod and Roman proceeded to get in the ring.

"It's your time to shine!" Seth supported as Morgan got off the apron.

"Morgan seems to be at her best to try to motivate The Shield," Cole said.

"Indeed, especially after how she acted on Smackdown. She's keeping a cool head." JBL said. 

Jey manages to throw Seth out of the ring and tag in Jimmy Uso to take on Roman.

"Come on Roman!" Morgan banged on the apron. 

Roman manages to get Jimmy on top of the turnbuckle.

"Here we go, baby!" Roman yelled at the crowd as they cheered for him. 

He was about to suplex him but Jimmy headbutts him off the turnbuckle. He goes for the splash but Roman brings his knees up. Roman recovers and does a loud roar before spearing him and eliminating him.

"Yes!" Morgan cheered. 

Cody hits Roman with a missile dropkick before tagging in Seth. Cody starts to take control of Seth and catches him in the Cross Rhodes position but Seth manages to tag in Roman as he gets hit by Cody's finisher. Roman spears Cody and pins him to eliminate him. 

But then Jey Uso throws Roman out of the ring and gives him a flying punch. 

"Huh!? Huh!?" Jey taunted before throwing him into the barricade as Morgan started to look worried. "Usos!" Jey chants before punching Roman. 

"Huh? Look at me! Look at me!" He throws Roman's head on the apron and throws him in the ring. 

Jey gets on the turnbuckle, attempting to do a dive but Roman rolls out the way. He tags in Seth as he does the blackout on him to eliminate him.

"That was sick! Go Seth!" Morgan cheered.

"Now it's 2 on 2." Cole said.

Morgan high fived Roman at ringside while Seth starts to take control of Rey. 

"Welcome back Rey!" Seth yelled before he fought back. 

Roman gets tagged in and slides Rey out of the ring which makes a sick thud. Goldust goes to check on him as the ref starts counting. Rey gets back in the ring at the count of 9. Roman runs toward Rey who is at the turnbuckle but hits his shoulder on the steel post once Rey moves out of the way. Morgan puts her hands over her mouth in shock. She hoped Roman was okay. 

Roman tags in Seth who runs and dropkicks Goldust off the apron, who was trying to make a tag to Rey.

"Smart move!" She cheered before going to Roman. "You all right, bro?"

Roman nodded as he kneeled on the apron. Meanwhile, Seth gets caught with a roll up by Rey as the crowd goes wild. 

"Yes! He got it!" King said in a high voice.

"It is now 2 on 1!" Cole exclaimed. 

Seth is shocked but then hits Rey with a cheap shot and starts stomping on him before he gets taken out. Roman gets in the ring and watches Seth walk away.

"Man..." Roman mumbled.

"Hey! Roman! Don't give up! Just because you are the only one left doesn't mean you'll lose! Don't doubt!" She yelled some sense into him.

"Morgan has been trying to motivate Roman in this match up." Cole observed.

Rey tags in Goldust and he quickly takes control of Roman and does some signature moves. Goldust gives Roman a powerslam and pins him for a two count. 

"Come on!" she banged on the mat for Roman. "I believe in you, Roman!"

"You know, we haven't heard Morgan screaming in a while. You think she'll be yelling and screaming during her match with The Total Divas against the True Divas?" King asked.

"She can scream all she wants because I have my earplugs," Cole responded. Goldust is about to do a bulldog on Roman but he pushes him away and spears him. "Spear!" He exclaimed as Goldust was eliminated.

"You got this Roman! 1 more! Just 1! 1 more then you are the sole survivor!" She supported. Morgan sees Rey getting up on the turnbuckle. "Heads up!" She warned as Roman got up and turned around. 

Roman catches Rey in a powerbomb hold as the crowd gets hyped but Rey starts punching him and throws Roman into the 619 position. As soon as Rey runs to the ropes, Roman gets up and spears him out of nowhere.

"Spear!" Cole yelled

"A spear!" JBL exclaimed.

"1!"

"2!"

"3!"

"Yes!" Morgan jumped up and down as The Shield's theme came on.

"The winner of this match, Roman Reigns," Justin announced. 

Roman gets his hand raised and he gets on the turnbuckle to taunt the crowd.

"Roman has stepped into the spotlight. What a performance!" JBL looked on.

The Outspoken Diva gets in the ring and runs to hug him. She didn't care how sweaty he was, she was so proud of him and had to give him a big hug. 

"You did it!" She cheered. As soon as she released him, he picked her up as she sat on his shoulders. She was a little surprised but grinned. "That's how you do it!" She pointed down at him.

Roman puts his fist up in the air while Morgan puts her fist in front of her, touching his fist. Roman set her down as the titantron showed the highlights of the match. Roman and Morgan get out of the ring and look at Rey, recovering from the spear.

She hugged Roman again as he chuckled. "You did awesome." She said. 

When she released him, he did a short roar as the crowd cheered.

"Yeah, you did it big guy." King said.

Roman tweets 'Thanks for supporting me WWEMorgan101'

Morgan replies 'RomanReigns of course bro! You always have my back, now I'm returning the favor. So glad you won. You kicked butt tonight!'

'Later'

Morgan tweets 'Ladies...Put On Your War Paint #TotalDivas #TurnUp #TwinMagic #AllRedEverything #GirlBye #SurvivorSeries'

The Bellas reply 'Yes. It's Time for some twin magic :) WWEMorgan101'

Eva Marie replies 'Yep, all red everything. Don't forget that WWEMorgan101'

Jojo replies 'Can't wait :) WWEMorgan101'

Cameron replies 'Yeah gurl! WWEMorgan101'

Naomi replies 'Turn up WWEMorgan101!'

Nattie replies 'I'll lead us to victory WWEMorgan101'

Morgan sends out another tweet by saying 'Let bygones be bygones. No drama tonight. Kapish? #TeamWork'

The Bellas reply 'No drama :)'

Eva Marie replies 'Fine. But don't get mad if I stand out more. Lol, JK #AllRedEverything'

'Natalieevamarie Haha, you funny! #BrunetteMafia' Morgan replies to Eva.

'WWEMorgan101 Lol, Let's rock this match tonight' Eva replies.

Then the Bellas tweet 'You sure you have your head in the game WWEMorgan101?'

'nicoleandbri We'll see.' Morgan replies to the Bellas.

Morgan tweets 'Tonight, I will try to give it my all #MorganWillSurvive'

--------

'WWE Exclusive Video, Backstage'

Morgan is walking and stops when she sees Kaitlyn. "Hello, Kaitlyn."

"Hello, Morgan. I just wanted to wish you luck tonight. But, if only you can make it." She shrugged.

"AJ really screwed up with your head huh? I guess she turned you into a backstabbing jerk. That really sucks." She walked past her but got ambushed by Tamina and thrown against the wall. 

Layla accompanies Tamina by stomping on Morgan. Tamina makes her stand up while Layla connects with a kick to the face.

"What is going on!?" Cole yelled.

"This is smart, take care of one of the strongest players early. I like their strategy." JBL looked on as the three divas drag Morgan into a janitor's closet and put a door on the knob to lock it.

"Guess you won't be joining the divas now, huh?" Layla asked.

"Are you kidding me!? Get me out of here! What the hell!" Morgan started banging on the door.

"You're alone Morgan. Let's see if you can do things alone." Kaitlyn said before she, Layla and Tamina walked away.

"Just wait till I get my hands on you three!" She yelled and tried to kick the door. 

Bray Wyatt was watching the whole scene and walked over, leaning against the wall next to the door. Morgan stopped banging on the door when she heard him giggling. 

"Freakishly weird, beard dude?" she called out

"What happened to the thorns, my rose? You need to unleash what's inside of you. Are you going to let them do this to you? Show them that you are not the one." Bray said in a haunting tone.

"Look, can you just help me and let me out? Please. I have no time for this, supernatural crap."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. You can let yourself out. You have it in you." He replied. 

Morgan ran her fingers through her hair and started looking around. She heard Lilian introducing the Total Divas. 

"Unleash." He chuckled and walked away.

Morgan lets out a frustrated scream and kicks the door multiple times. 

"Damn it!" She choked back a frustrated sob and slid down, burying her face in her hands. After a couple of moments, she heard AJ's theme from the arena and got back to her feet. 

"No, no, no." She tries to burst the door down, bumping into it three times and breaking free. She grunted as she fell and scrambled back up to her feet.

Swiftly cleaning herself up, she dashed to the gorilla. 

No one was going to sabotage this moment.

'In The Ring'

"Is Morgan okay?" King asked as the Total Divas were looking worried. 

Natalya looks at AJ's team. Layla, AJ, Tamina, Alicia, Rosa, Aksana, Summer Rae, and Kaitlyn were getting set for their match against the Total Divas. She knew something wasn't right when she saw the smirks on the faces of Tamina and Layla.

"Have you seen Morgan?" Natalya asked as the Total Divas shook their heads.

"Maybe she's running late?" Jojo asked.

"She was here, all ready. Remember she showed us her new dyed hair?"

"Yeah, and then she told us she was going to get some grapes before the match started and she would meet us at the gorilla," Nikki said.

'To Morgan'

Morgan was running in black pants, black boots, and a shirt that stops in the middle of her stomach that says '1 Year Strong' with The Shield symbol and on the back it says 'Believe In That'. Once she arrives at the gorilla, she puts on her hat, wearing it backward instead and puts on her fingerless gloves. She fixed her newly dyed black hair to make sure it was neat. She decided to straighten her hair and dye her hair to support the color black for The Shield.

A producer cues her music. 

"Great..." Tamina retorted and rolled her eyes in the ring as the Total Divas looked relieved.

"There she is!" King happily said. "I get to see her twirl!"

The crowd cheers when Morgan comes out. She walks out while doing her taunt and twirls around when she gets to the middle of the ramp. She tags some hands and runs in the ring Mickie James style and stands up to go on the turnbuckle. 

"Let's go!" Morgan yelled. She takes her hat off and throws it in the crowd and jumps off the turnbuckle. She turns her attention to Layla, Tamina and Kaitlyn. "Don't think I'm done with you three." She pointed at them as they started trash talking her.

"You think you're so tough?" Layla yelled.

"Whoa, wait, what happened?" Nikki asked, holding Morgan back.

"As you can see, Morgan doesn't look so happy with Kaitlyn, Tamina and Layla. Let's find out why." Cole said as titantron showed Morgan being ambushed by the 3 divas. The Total Divas look on in shock as AJ smirks, happy that her plan is in motion even though Morgan is still going to be a part of the match.

"Are you serious?" Brie yelled at the Non Total Divas.

"That's not cool!" Naomi exclaimed

"It's fine. I'm here now." Morgan tried to calm them down.

"They are gonna get it." Natalya glared at her opponents.

"Big mistake being here little girl. You should have stayed out of this match. You should have gone back with The Shield." Tamina said. "You're gonna regret staying in this match."

"We'll see." Morgan retorted. 

Arguing with Tamina wasn't going to solve anything. She'll let her fists and legs do the talking in the ring. The Philadelphian and the rest of the divas go on the apron while Naomi and Alicia start off the match. Morgan's anger decided not to get the best of her for the first time and she calmed herself down. She was patiently waiting to get her hands on 3 certain divas. Layla, who needs to check herself, Kaitlyn, who needs a reality check so she can snap out of AJ's mind game, and Tamina who is just begging for an ass whooping.

Alicia and Naomi lock up. She throws Naomi to the ropes and hits her with a backbreaker. She pins her for a 1 count. 

"Come on Naomi!" Brie cheered as Alicia took control. 

Alicia puts Naomi on the turnbuckle but Naomi elbows her off and does a moonsault to eliminate her.

"And that's the athletic ability of Naomi!" Cole exclaimed as her team cheered her on.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Morgan grinned. 

Rosa gets in the ring but quickly backs away from Naomi's incoming rear view. Rosa runs into a forearm by Naomi as she tags in Cameron. They do a double suplex on Rosa and a double split. Cameron pins her for a two count. She throws Rosa to the turnbuckle and runs towards her but runs face first on the turnbuckle by Rosa. Rosa pins her to eliminate her. 

Rosa starts cheering but then Nikki gets in the ring while she is dancing. Nikki puts her hands on her hips and waits for her to turn around. Once she does, Nikki connects with the facebuster finisher to eliminate her. Nikki tags in Morgan as Summer Rae gets in the ring. 

"Here comes Morgan," Cole announced 

Summer Rae starts doing some ballet dance moves in front of her as the crowd cheers.

"Look at these moves," King exclaimed. 

Morgan glances at her and then at the crowd. Summer Rae does another dance move and starts to taunt her.

"Ha! You think you can top that?" Summer smiled smugly. Morgan remembered that Fandango hates the Gangnam Style dance and starts to do it as the crowd cheers. Summer Rae's jaw drops as she starts moving her hips. "What!? What!?" She exclaimed. 

The Total Divas were cheering as the Non Total Divas started to protest.

"This is an amusing dance battle." JBL laughed. "Ha! Ha! I love it!"

"Yeah, girl!" Naomi cheered.

As soon as Morgan was done, she had her arms out and said "What!?"

"Oh, you better top that!" Layla yelled at Summer. "Top that!"

"Out dance her!" Aksana exclaimed.

"No way! I can do that too!" Summer Rae said and did an awkward version of the Gangnam Style as the crowd laughed.

"I guess the Gangnam Style isn't her thing," King said.

"That is not dancing! This is real dancing!" Summer exclaimed and started doing more ballroom dancing. 

Nikki asks Morgan for a tag and Morgan tags her in. Summer Rae starts dancing more and Nikki decides to do the worm as the crowd cheers.

"Oh! Look at her! Scotty 2 hotty!" JBL exclaimed. 

Summer does a spin and a split but Nikki runs to the ropes and dropkicks her to eliminate her. The Bella tags in Eva Marie as the crowd boos her. Kaitlyn gets in the ring and is hit with some elbows by the redhead. But as soon as Kaitlyn fights back, she quickly hits her with a gutbuster to eliminate her.

Morgan watches Kaitlyn. She didn't look like she was messing around. Naomi gets in the ring and starts to take control of Kaitlyn. Later on, Naomi slides onto the apron and kicks her. But once she got back in the ring and ran to the ropes, she got caught by Kaitlyn. The Hybrid Diva battle cries as she hits the gutbuster on her to eliminate her.

"Kaitlyn is just dominating!" Cole looked on, impressed.

Having enough, Morgan decides to get in the ring. 

"Kaitlyn! I want her! Tag me in!" Layla has her hand out. 

Kaitlyn glances at her and tags her in. Morgan really wanted to face Kaitlyn but Layla was on her target list, so she was satisfied. The two divas lock up and Morgan takes control. She tosses Layla to the ropes and connects with a dropkick. Layla rolls out the ring, holding her face but Morgan decides to run to the ropes and hit her with a suicide dive outside the ring.

"What a move!" King exclaimed. As soon as Morgan recovers, she turns around to get clotheslined, hard by Tamina. "Oh! Hard shot by Tamina!"

The remaining Total Divas start to protest at Tamina's actions but the ref backs them up as AJ looks on with delight. Layla throws Morgan back in the ring and pins her for a 2 count. 

"That should have been 3!" She yelled. 

She starts to have a fit but then decides to roundhouse kick Morgan as the Philly diva slowly falls back down the mat while the crowd 'Ohs' at the impact.

"Nighty night!" Tamina yelled as Layla pinned her.

Morgan kicks out at 2. 

"Are you kidding me?" Layla retorted. She picks her up and hits her with a spinning facebuster and pins her again. After 2, Morgan kicks out, again. "You've gotta be kidding me!" The British Diva yelled and started unloading on her.

"Come on Morgan!" Jojo cheered. "You can do it!"

"Shut up!" Layla yelled at Jojo, turning her attention to her as she stood up. Morgan quickly got up and gave Layla a thesz press and started unloading on her with punches.

"Morgan will not stand for disrespect to Jojo." Cole reminded. 

The crowd cheers for Morgan as she picks Layla up and throws her to the ropes to hit her with a bicycle super kick. She gets behind Layla and rests her hands on her knees, waiting for her to get up. Once she does, Morgan positions her for the sit out full Nelson facebuster. She lets out a loud battle cry while she slams Layla hard on the mat.

"And the yelling and screaming has begun," King said. "Woo hoo!"

"What a move by Morgan!" Cole exclaimed.

"1!"

"2!"

"3!" The crowd cheered.

"Layla has been eliminated," Lilian announced. 

Morgan tags in Brie as Aksana gets in the ring. Brie takes control and runs to the ropes only to be kicked in the back by AJ. Brie tries to hit her but AJ gets off the apron. As soon as she turns around, she gets blasted with a spinebuster by Aksana and is eliminated. Aksana throws Brie out of the ring and starts trash talking. 

Nikki gets in the ring and runs to attack her from behind. She then, does the torture rake on her to eliminate her.

"Uh oh. Here comes Tamina." JBL said as she got in the ring.

Tamina starts headbutting Nikki and hits Natalya and Morgan with a cheap shot off the apron. Meanwhile, in the ring, Nikki hits Tamina with a kick as Morgan gets back on the apron. Nikki backs up to the corner and sees Jojo, having her hand out for a tag. She reluctantly tags in Jojo as she slowly gets in the ring while the crowd cheers for her. Tamina stands up and looks at the 19 year­ old and takes out her ponytail.

"I don't know how wise this is," Cole said. 

Tamina and Jojo lock up but Tamina throws her down and starts trash talking. The Samoan takes off her jacket and throws it at her before grabbing her hair and throwing her to the turnbuckle. She then runs to her but Jojo kicks her away. 

"Wait a minute!" Cole called out

Jojo gets on the ropes but is caught by Tamina. She manages to roll underneath her for a roll up but Tamina kicks out at 2. When Jojo gets up, she is clotheslined by her. Tamina picks her up for the Samoan drop as Morgan looks worried. 

"Morgan is seething on the apron..." King looked nervous as AJ was tagged in and began skipping around Jojo with a smirk on her face

"I'm gonna hurt you so bad when I get in this ring!" The Outspoken Diva yelled at her. 

AJ was feeding off the yelling of Morgan and it made her laugh. AJ pins

Jojo to eliminate her. Nikki gets back in the ring as AJ tags in Tamina. Nikki runs to Tamina but is hit by a clothesline. Tamina's power was too much for Nikki as she got hit with the Samoan drop and big splash to get eliminated. 

Natalya and Morgan look at each other. 

"Two against three," Cole said as Kaitlyn, AJ and Tamina were representing the Non Total Divas. 

Natalya decides to get in the ring. Tamina kicks Natalya hard in the gut and hits her with shoulder thrusts on the turnbuckle. She grabs Natalya by the hair and gives her a scoopslam.

"Come on Nattie!" Morgan cheered. 

Tamina gets on the top rope and does a loud battle cry to do the splash but Natalya moves out the way. She puts Tamina in the sharpshooter but AJ distracts the ref. Natalya decides to release the hold and turn her attention to the crazy chick. She tries to attack her but AJ gets off the apron and laughs.

"Watch your back!" Morgan tried to warn but as soon as Natalya turned around, she got kicked hard in the face and picked up for a Samoan drop. 

Tamina hits the splash and eliminates her as the crowd cheers.

"Morgan is alone," Cole said as she let out a breath and entered the ring. Tamina and Morgan circle each other in the ring. "We've been waiting for these two to go at it."

Nikki and Natalya were still at ringside, helping each other up. 

"If Roman can do it...maybe I can." Morgan said to herself. 

She locks up with Tamina lock up but Tamina pushes her to the turnbuckle as the ref breaks it up. 

"Ah!" She yelled in pain as Tamina struck her with a big chop to the chest. 

The Samoan grabs her hard by the hair and pushes her back to the turnbuckle.

"Does that hurt!? Huh!? Does that hurt!? Are you gonna cry!? Are you gonna cry, Morgan!?" Tamina yelled in her face before throwing her across the ring. Morgan could feel her body getting hot from anger and her neck slightly jerked.

"Did you see that?" Cole exclaimed.

"No, what I miss?" King asked.

"Morgan kind of reminded me of Dean for a second. She just twitched." JBL pointed out as Cole agreed.

Tamina grabs her and puts her in the chinlock.

"Give up!" Tamina yelled as Morgan tried to find a way out. She stands up but is quickly slammed back down the mat as she holds her head. Tamina starts pushing her head around. "You think you can beat me? You think you can win this match?" She taunted before picking her up and hurting her with a snap suplex. 

She goes for the pin but stops once the ref counts to two.

"I don't think Tamina cares about winning right now, she really wants to hurt Morgan," King said.

Tamina picks her up and hits her with a pumphandle slam.

"Tamina is really taking it to Morgan. Morgan desperately needs to turn things around." Cole looked on as Tamina put her in a tight headlock. "Morgan's fading. This may be over."

"Come on Morgan!" Nattie cheered with Nikki. "You've come too far to quit now!"

"Hey! Ref! Make them go backstage! They've been eliminated!" AJ yelled. 

Meanwhile, Morgan starts to get up and elbows Tamina in the stomach before hitting her with a quick enzuigiri. She gasps for air and turns to her corner, about to tag someone, but, realizes that she is the only one left.

"You're alone Morgan." JBL reminded. 

The Philly diva turns her attention to the remaining divas and holds her head. She would have to deal with Tamina and Kaitlyn's power and AJ's speed and black widow. Morgan looked at the mat and saw strands of her black hair pulled out of her head by Tamina. Tamina really wanted to break something.

"Aw, are you gonna cry? The Shield can't save you and the Total Divas can't save you. You're alone." Tamina taunted.

She was really starting to push her buttons as Morgan's arm jerked slightly. The Philly Diva felt her blood starting to boil. 

"There it is again. That jerk. What's going on with Morgan? It's like she's getting possessed." Cole pointed out. 

Tamina decides to tag in Kaitlyn as she slowly gets in the ring. Morgan slowly gets back up to her feet and has a staredown with her former best friend.

"These two know each other so well. Morgan debuted at Survivor Series and was Kaitlyn's manager. She would be her guide in the WWE until Morgan could spread her wings. But ever since AJ kept getting into the Non Total Divas' heads about them not being chosen to be a Total Diva, Kaitlyn's attitude towards Morgan had changed." Cole said.

"You think their friendship is over?" King asked.

"Or maybe Morgan can snap Kaitlyn out of it? Beat the mind games out of her head?" JBL asked.

Morgan and Kaitlyn step up to each other but then Kaitlyn pushes her. 

"You weren't a good friend to me at all." She pushes her again as Morgan looks away. "You never supported me!" The Hybrid Diva shoves her down to the mat as Morgan looks at her in shock.

"What the hell? Where did that come from? What did I do?" Morgan yelled but then started to get angry. She wasn't going to be pushed around like that. She gets up and slaps her. "First of all! I've been your friend since the beginning! Okay, so at Payback I told you to suck it up. You should have! I can't sugarcoat things for you! I keep it real!"

Kaitlyn slaps her back. "You've done more stuff in a year than I ever have! How is that fair? How is that fair?!"

Morgan returns the slap. "You've won the championship way before me and I was happy for you. I wasn't jealous of you at all! AJ is getting in your head!" She yelled. 

This was not Kaitlyn. This was all AJ. 

AJ looks on with a smirk.

Kaitlyn slaps her again. "You were too involved with your boyfriend to even have time for a friend!"

The Outspoken Diva slaps her once again. "Don't get him involved in this!"

"Do you see how red their faces are?" Cole asked.

"Yeah, and they are still going at it," King said.

Kaitlyn slaps her again. "It's true! You've been brainwashed by him ever since The Shield won at WrestleMania! He's a weirdo! I don't even support your relationship with him! He stalked you! He kidnapped you! How can you love someone like that!?"

Smacking her in the face, again, Morgan yelled, "What has gotten into you!? He's a good guy! Who are you to tell me who I should be with? Just because you don't have a guy doesn't mean you can torment me because I have one!"

Kaitlyn slaps her as Morgan's face is to the side. "He's an obsessive guy and he doesn't even love you. He's probably using you! Just like all street dogs do! You're his ring rat!"

Morgan jerks her head back as she stares her down. Kaitlyn was taken aback and stepped back as the Philly Diva began to glare at her. 

"That was a wicked head turn," King said. She hits her with a lariat and starts unloading on her. "Is it me or is Morgan reminding me of someone eccentric?"

The ref grabs her off of her. Kaitlyn recovers as Morgan runs towards her but gets clotheslined. She grabs Morgan and throws her to the corner and strikes her with multiple head smashes onto the turnbuckle. She throws Morgan to the ropes and attacks her with a running shoulder block as Morgan holds her shoulder. 

"What power by Kaitlyn," JBL said as she pinned Morgan for a 2 count.

"Come on! She's just one person! Finish her!" AJ yelled. "Remember what I told you, Kaitlyn! She thinks her boyfriend means more than you!"

That was a lie. Morgan puts her friends first. She'd never put her boyfriend in front of her friends no matter how much she loved him. 

"You stupid psycho bitch, that's not true!" Morgan screamed at AJ and ran to her but AJ got off the apron and laughed. 

While she is distracted, Morgan gets picked up by Kaitlyn and is hit with a backbreaker as she yells in pain.

"Did you feel that?" King asked as he winced. 

Morgan holds her back and tries to recover as Kaitlyn watches her. She crawls to a corner and Kaitlyn decides to try to spear her but Morgan quickly moves out of the way while Kaitlyn hits the steel post. Both divas were down as the ref began to count for a double knockout. They get up at the count of 7 and Morgan gets on the turnbuckle to hit her with a missile dropkick.

They both get up and Kaitlyn kicks her in the stomach and runs to the ropes but Morgan follows her and gives her a knee to the gut as Kaitlyn yells in pain. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, did that hurt?" Morgan asked while tilting her head to the side. "Poor darling..." 

She removes her knee from her stomach and takes her out with the backfire. She pins her but Kaitlyn kicks out at 2.

"That was Morgan's best move, wasn't it?" Cole asked. 

Morgan stares at her and then slowly gets up. She does a slow neck roll as she walks back to a corner and glares at her.

"What is going on with Morgan?" King asked as her arm was jerking repeatedly.

Kaitlyn held her head and was taken aback by Morgan's attitude. "Is that you...being serious?"

"It's like she glaring at her prey. Did you see that neck roll? Wicked." JBL said, thinking of Dean Ambrose.

"What is she about to do?" Cole asked as Morgan ran and hit Kaitlyn with a knee to the head. She then picked her up to hit her with a sitout belly-to-back facebuster on her. "What impact!"

Morgan rolls away from Kaitlyn and stares at her. She rolls her neck slowly and laughs while running her hands through her hair. 

"Morgan has a few screws loose, folks," Cole commented as she goes back to the corner and starts banging on the mat repeatedly, waiting for Kaitlyn to get up. "Yep, she's Harley Quinn in disguise."

"I have to agree this time," JBL said. "But in a good way."

"I know Ambrose must be loving this," King said. Morgan does a loud battle cry as she hits Kaitlyn with a spear. The crowd 'Ohs' as Kaitlyn sold the spear pretty well, making the move look even more devastating. "Oh my God, did she just use a spear!?"

Morgan spins on one knee before stopping and staring at her opponent while standing on one knee. She smirks as she tilts her head to the side. 

"Oh, I'm sorry Kaitlyn...did that hurt? Did that hurt you badly, sweetie? It'll all be over pretty soon."

"We gotta see that spear again," JBL said as the titantron showed Morgan spearing Kaitlyn 3 times from different angles and 1 in slow motion. 

Morgan pins her to eliminate her as the crowd cheers.

"2 on 1!" Cole exclaimed. 

Morgan stands up, watching Kaitlyn roll out the ring as she tilts her head to the side and smiles. Tamina gets in the ring and Morgan smoothly turns around like Dean as Tamina gives her a weird look.

"The hell is your problem?" Tamina retorted.

"Is it scaring you? Why so serious, Tamina? Lighten up." 

She drops the act and goes back to her normal self as she and Tamina circle each other around the ring. They lock up but then, Tamina throws her to the ropes and gives her a big slap as Morgan holds her chest in pain.

"Did you hear that!?" Cole exclaimed.

"Morgan is or should I say, was the only Shield member who hasn't had big slaps to the chest. Now it's even." JBL said.

Tamina decides to rip off her Shield shirt. "1 Year strong huh?" She yelled, leaving Morgan in a black sports bra.

"Ah!" She yelled out in pain as Tamina gave her another hard slap to the chest. 

The slap echoed around the arena as Morgan kneeled and held the ropes for support. AJ was looking in delight as Tamina grabbed Morgan by the hair and raised her up to give her another hard slap. Morgan's chest was red and she fell

"How's that feel Morgan? How's that feel?" Tamina taunted before grabbing her by the hair and raising her back up. "You want another? Huh?" She asked before giving her one last slap on the chest and it was the loudest one and echoed around the arena.

Tamina grabs her and finishes her off with a powerbomb before pinning her but Morgan kicks out at 2.

"What!? That was 3!" Tamina yelled in shock.

"What a near fall," Cole said. 

Tamina waits for her to get up and once she does, she runs to the ropes and is about to connect with a big boot but Morgan grabs her leg. She pushes her down as Tamina falls on her back. She quickly rolls her over and gets her in the breakdown.

"She's screaming again," King said as Morgan leaned back and screamed.

"She's got that hold locked in! Will Tamina tap!?" Cole exclaimed as the crowd was getting hyped up. 

But, Tamina found a way out by putting her legs on the ropes. Morgan waits for her to get up so she can hit her with a leaping clothesline. She gives her another, and then another. Then, she picks Tamina up and connects with a spinning bulldog.

"The shades of Roman Reigns are now in Morgan's system," Cole said as she went to a corner and waited for Tamina to get up. 

Once she does, she runs and yells "Ha!" as she gives Tamina a leaping punch, similar to Roman's Superman punch. Morgan goes back to the corner and roars as she spears Tamina.

"Another spear!" Cole exclaimed as the crowd cheered.

Morgan spins on her knee and stops and stands on one knee while smirking at AJ. 

"Did you hear that roar? Jeesh, did Roman teach her some moves?" King asked

"Roman must be so proud of her," JBL mentioned.

"This is going to be you," Morgan said to AJ before standing up.

Tamina gets up and grabs Morgan from behind when she was trash talking AJ. Morgan escapes the hold and knees her in the stomach. The Philly Diva hits her with the sit out full Nelson facebuster to eliminate her.

"1 against 1!" King exclaimed.

AJ smirks and gets in the ring. Morgan stands up and they circle around each other. 

"Just one more..." The Outspoken Diva murmured to herself. 

All of a sudden, Tamina gets on the apron and is about to attack her but Nikki and Natalya save her. Morgan was distracted by the fight and turned around to a kick by AJ. She quickly pins her but Morgan kicks out at 2. 

AJ starts throwing a tantrum in the ring as she starts banging on the mat. She glares at her and waits for her to get up. Morgan ducks AJ's kick and tries to kick her but AJ evades her kick, too. AJ tries to kick her again but she grabs her leg and brings her leg down as AJ does a split. The Philly diva connects with a spinning kick in the face. 

"Yikes!" King exclaimed.

Morgan gets on the apron as Natalya and Nikki are fighting Tamina outside the ring to keep her from getting in the ring. She hits AJ with a springboard clothesline. 

"I'll bet you that Seth taught her some moves," JBL said

She pins AJ for a two count. She takes control of AJ in a headlock but then AJ reverses it and puts her in a headlock 

"Have you told The Shield that you've been talking to the Wyatts? Or are you too scared that the Wyatts will hurt them? I saw you...I saw you talking to them...I wonder how The Shield will react if they find out about you and the Wyatts..." AJ said in her ear. "So you are actually going to join the Wyatt Family after all you and The Shield have been through? Oh Morgan, the situations you put yourself into. First, it was the WrestleMania match and you were forced to be in The Shield...now it's this situation. Poor, poor Morgan..." she grinned while Morgan tried to ignore her.

AJ's mind games will always help her in matches. But this time, AJ was wrong. Morgan wasn't planning on joining the Wyatts. She was planning to tell The Shield if the Wyatts started to really bother her. But for now, since they are leaving her alone, she has no problems. 

Morgan tries to fight out of the hold as she stands up but AJ hits her with a swinging neckbreaker. She looks at Morgan while laughing before she pins her for a 2 count. As soon as Morgan stands on her knees, AJ connects with a shining wizard. 

"That should be it." JBL said and AJ pinned her but Morgan kicked out at the last second.

"Another near fall." Cole looked on. 

As soon as Morgan gets up again, AJ traps her in the black widow.

"Give up Morgan. Give up and it'll be all over. The Shield will not have two sole survivors in one night. I will not allow it!" AJ screamed. 

Nikki gets on the apron as AJ gets distracted and breaks the hold. 

"What is she still doing here!? She's been eliminated!" AJ yelled at the ref but then decided to dropkick Nikki, off the apron while Natalya was still fighting Tamina. 

The refs finally came down to separate them from fighting outside the ring.

"Watch your back," Morgan muttered as AJ turned around. 

She hits her with an enzuigiri and continues to take advantage by hitting AJ with a moonsault. She pins her for a 2 count.

"Another near fall! AJ kicked out!" King exclaimed as Morgan ran her gloved hands through her new black hair, trying to recover. 

AJ rolls out the ring and Morgan gets between the ropes, about to grab her but AJ grabs her arm and bangs it on the steel post.

"Smart move by AJ." JBL said as Morgan screamed in agony, holding her arm while she was on the mat.

AJ gets back in the ring and laughs at her. She starts skipping around and then begins to wear the Philly Diva down with some arm submissions.

"As you can see, AJ is really targeting the arm. That is a good strategy because it won't allow Morgan to do the breakdown or her full Nelson facebuster." Cole added. 

Morgan fights back and starts hitting AJ with one leg dropkicks. When AJ was on her hands and knees, she ran and stomped on her, like Seth's blackout finisher and pins her but AJ kicks out before the ref said 3.

The crowd chants 'Let's go Morgan! AJ Lee!'

"I know Rollins is happy." King said.

"These two really want to beat each other. Morgan wants to win to silence AJ and also do more history for The Shield by making them have 2 sole survivors in one night. There's a lot of expectations for Morgan. AJ wants to prove that the Total Divas can't beat the Non Total divas." Cole says.

Morgan's left arm was still bothering her as she held it. AJ had really outsmarted her. She would usually do damage with the right arm, so Morgan did extra stretching on her right arm instead of the left. She didn't know how much more she could take of this punishment. She needed to end this and end it now.

When AJ and Morgan stand up, AJ runs towards her. Morgan does a loud battle cry as she catches AJ and does a spinning side slam, similar to Jon Moxley's Moxicity finisher. 

"That knocked the wind out of AJ!" King exclaimed as Morgan slammed her down hard.

"Move out of nowhere!" Cole exclaimed.

"Could this be it?" JBL asked.

"1!"

"2!"

"3!" The crowd cheered as Morgan's theme came on

Nikki and Natalya run into the ring and jump on Morgan for a hug as she falls on the mat and laughs.

"Here is your winner! The sole survivor of Team Total Divas, Morgan!" Lilian announced.

"History has been made. The Shield now has 2 sole survivors in one night. The Shield may be one of the best teams in the WWE." Cole said.

"We won!" Nikki grinned while Natalya raised Morgan's right hand in victory.

"Thanks, guys," the Philly Diva smiled and hugged them.

Natalya and Morgan get on the top rope and taunt the crowd as Nikki taunts the crowd in between them, on the mat.

"Let's friggin' go! The Philly diva grinned at the crowd. "One year strong! Believe in The Shield!"

Morgan tweets 'That...was...awesome! #TheShield1YearStrong #BelieveInThat #TotalDivasRule'

'WWE Exclusive Video'

"That's what I'm talking about! Woo!" Seth cheered for Roman. Morgan walked up to them, in her wrestling attire. "There she is. There's our girl!"

Morgan laughed as Seth and Roman bumped fists with her. Dean greeted her with a kiss and took his Shield jacket off to give it to her to wear. She put it on and shot him a thankful smile. 

"You two dominated all night baby, all night!" Rollins continued to praise.

"For the past few weeks, there's been a lot of doubters. But the only thing that matters is, Rollins, you believe right?" Roman asked.

"Oh, I fully believe baby!" The two toned male happily replied.

"Ambrose, you believe right?" The Samoan turned his attention to him. Dean responded by doing a wave with his hand. "No doubt. And what about you, Grapes?"

"Totally." Morgan grinned.

"You were pretty badass out there," Roman mentioned, nodding in approval.

"Ain't that the truth? She nailed it out there." Seth praised. "One year later, and the story stays the same! We come in, we dominate, we win, and we leave, why? Because we're the best thing going, we said it since day 1! You better start believing, if you don't already."

"I tried to warn y'all, we tried to warn ya'll. You don't want us to release the big cat here. We tried to warn you what happens when you push Roman's buttons too hard and uh, and all those brothers found out. 1 spear, 2 spears, 3 spears, it's getting embarrassing now, 4 spears, how many spears?" Ambrose turned to Roman.

"Enough," Roman replied as Dean laughed in response.

"And that's what happens with you motivate The Thorn of Justice right here." Dean put his arm around his girlfriend. "You see when you give Morgan a cheap shot from behind, it motivates her to do more damage and more ass kicking. All those sisters found out. Backfire, spear, even doing some of our moves which she nailed, including that last move on AJ to win the match. We're going to Moxicity huh?" He joked as she chuckled and nodded.

"Morgan also did some high flying moves, springboard clotheslines, the breakdown, received hard slaps to the chest, and even that full Nelson bulldog. That was pretty wicked." Seth mentioned.

"It's getting pretty violent now, huh?" Dean asked.

"That blackout was sick, Morg." Rollins high fived her.

"Haha, thanks. I just really wanted to have some fun in the ring, to spice up the match." She replied.

"You made it more entertaining to watch, that's for sure," Roman replied.

Morgan looked at the camera. "People didn't believe in me when it was 3 on 1. I didn't believe in myself for a minute but after showing the power of Reigns, the speed of Rollins and the technical moves of Ambrose, it helped me out. So, you can sneak attack me, lock me into a closet, do anything you want but I will get back up and I will keep fighting. Nothing is going to stop me from doing justice."

"That's right," Seth commented while Roman and Dean nodded. "Quick question, how'd you nail our moves? We haven't even taught you, our moves."

"Eh...I guess it's my eyes? I've been pretty observant lately. Watching almost all of your matches, really helped me out in the match." Morgan chuckled at Seth.

"Fellas, I taught her well when she was doing my in ring attitude out there. You can be my Harley Quinn, anytime." Ambrose smirked.

"That was a wicked spear out there." Roman complimented. "You did good."

"Thanks." Morgan smiled.

Roman turned to the camera. "And there's plenty of more spears where that came from, believe! In The Shield."

Morgan tweets 'There have been some injustices from certain NXT Divas. It looks like justice needs to be served. #WatchYourBack'

-------

Favorite Hashtag?

#WatchYourBack

#BelieveInThat

#TotalDivasRule

#TheShield1YearStrong

Favorite Hashtag?

#MorganWillSurvive

#MorganTwerks

#TotalDivas

#TurnUp

#TwinMagic

#AllRedEverything

#GirlBye

#TeamWork

#BrunetteMafia

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Sixteen ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3021

Warnings: None

A/n Every chapter, you all make me smile so much <3 Thank you!

Haldir leaves and I let out something halfway between an exhale and a groan.

What. Was. That.

My room, which is a very respectable size, felt like a matchbox as the space between Haldir and I minimized. He went from weeks of keeping a consistent physical barrier between us to ghosting his hands over my arms, my hips, my waist…It’s…new.

And when he held me close, his chest so nearly brushing against my back—

I shake my head against the onslaught of scenarios that run through my mind.

I should not be thinking of him this way.

Haldir is a friend, a guide, an instructor, nothing more.

I let out a deep breath and begin to pace, trying to work off this newfound energy. Haldir and I trained for nearly two hours, I should be exhausted. Instead, I feel wide awake, invigorated, jittery, like I couldn’t possibly go to sleep. I groan, taking my hair out of its bun and letting it fall around me. I stop in my tracks, glancing at the spot where Haldir and I stood so close together just moments ago.

I cannot stay here.

I tear through the open door, turning right and taking the staircase that leads to the first floor. I turn left and, before I know it, I’m standing in front of Alex’s closed door.

I knock.

The door creaks open. “Hey,” he greets, opening it wider to allow me in. “What’s up?”

“I uh,” I purse my lips, having not really thought through my plan. I do need a distraction though, and being out of my room is already helping clear the fog from my brain. My eyes catch a pile of books on his nightstand. “I came to help you research, if that’s okay.”

His face lights up. “Yeah! Yeah, of course. I’ve read those three so far,” he gestures to a small stack by the window, “and there’s nothing helpful in them. Everything else in English is fair game. Is there anything specific you want to look into?”

“Fæs.” I’m surprised that the answer comes to me so easily, but as soon I speak the word, I know it’s true — I do want to learn more.

Alex nods slowly. “Yeah, okay, I think I’ve got a couple books on that here. Let me….” He trails off, spinning in a circle as he searches for a specific volume. “Ah.” He squats down and grabs a book near the foot of his bed, reaching it up to me.

An image of Haldir, crouched on the ground, hand warm against my ankle, staring up at me with such intensity, so much confidence—

Alex stands and I look to the ceiling, trying to will away the image and the feelings that come rushing along with it.

“What makes you want to learn about fæs? Isn’t that an elf thing?”

I purse my lips, stalling until the embarrassment fades enough to look Alex in the eye. “Haldir mentioned that humans have their own version of a fæ — a little weaker, a little different, but generally the same concept.” An idea begins to take form, and I roll with it. “I was wondering if—assuming that our fæs remained unchanged between our homeworld and Arda—well, if we could use it somehow, tap into it and reclaim our memories. If anything were to remember, wouldn’t it be our spirits?”

Alex nods slowly, a grin tugging at the edges of his lips. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Great thinking! Let me know if you find anything.”

He settles into the couch, leaving the bed for me. Gratefully, I cozy up against the pillows. I open the book, skimming the introductory chapter, which is basically just a summary of the core concepts Haldir has already explained to me. When I’m on chapter three, the sky passes firmly into night, and even the plethora of candles Alex has lit aren’t enough to keep my eyes from straining.

I pull my knees to my chest and lean forward, glancing over at my friend. His cheeks — which had been gaunt when we first reunited, now take a healthy shape. His shoulders no longer hold vestiges of tension — they lean relaxed, leisurely, against the back of the couch. Even in the limited light, he squints his eyes and continues to read, seeming intent on soaking up as much knowledge as he can.

I rest my chin on my knees. “I need to ask you something.”

He looks up, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Okay?”

“Are you alright?”

He sighs, shifting in his seat. “Cosima…”

“No,” I protest. I don’t care if it’s uncomfortable, he needs to talk about things. He’s been bottling it up since he arrived in this world and it hasn’t done anyone any good. “I mean it.”

Alex groans, shaking his head. “Fine, okay. It’s…strange.” He pauses, but I wait, holding out hope that he’ll continue. He does so, slowly. “I’ve…gotten myself to accept that I’m in a different world, but I can’t wrap my mind around the how. That’s stressful. We don’t have a solid plan to return home, nor do we know if we’ll find one. That’s depressing. And, I have flashes and snippets of memories, but otherwise, I feel like I don’t know who I am.”

My heart breaks. Here my friend is, hurting, lost…

And I’ve left him completely alone.

Alex tilts his head to the side, contemplating. “But I do feel better than when we arrived, or even just from a few days ago. Having things to do, feeling useful and like I have agency for the first time…it’s really good for me. And, well,” he dips his head then raises it again, leveling his eyes on me. “It’s helped me realize something else — that I owe you an apology.”

I blink in surprise. I’ve been the one that has pretty much abandoned and ignored him. I should be apologizing.

“On the road, I said some pretty mean things, and I isolated you from your friends and tried to take control. I didn’t mean for it to be like that. I was…” he sighs, shaking his head, “scared out of my mind. I already felt like I couldn’t do anything to fix the problem, and then on top of that I felt like you had completely given up and it was my job to save us both. And I know now that’s not the case, but for a while…” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re just more adaptable than I am, I guess.”

I push myself off the bed, cross the room, and sit next to him on the small couch. Automatically, he throws an arm over my shoulder, the movement so familiar and easy that he must have done it a thousand times before. I lay my head on his shoulder, the bone there pressing against my ear.

I take a deep breath. “If we had really been kidnapped, or injured, or anything more realistic than what actually happened,” he gives a small, tired laugh, the movement shaking his shoulder, “you would’ve been the one to get us out. I know it. Even now, you’re the one putting in all the hard work to get us home. I’m sorry I’ve pretty much left you to handle it alone.”

He squeezes my upper arm gently. “I appreciate it, but I don’t blame you. I get it.” He shrugs again, a measure of sadness creeping into his voice. “It’s not like you remember anyone enough to miss them. If you have people you like here, of course you’d focus on them.”

I feel my lips pull into a guilty frown. “They like you too, you know. You all just need to spend some more time together—”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, pushing a smile onto his face. “It’s okay, honestly — we just don’t click. But I have you, and Baranor and I get along well, and I have this project to work on. It’s enough for me.”

I sigh, resting my head against his chest. I hope that’s true.

{***}

At breakfast, Lavandil and I make plans to meet at her shop. She gives me directions and I hurry up the stairs to my room, changing out of my tunic and leggings and into something a little more fun for my first day of work. I settle on a dark purple gown, one that billows down my arm in puffy gossamer sleeves and has a slight, sparkly train. I’m probably a bit overdressed, but knowing Lavandil’s extravagant wardrobe, I’ll fit in just fine. I bound down the staircase, eager to discover the market and the shop. I turn left, intent on exiting the building.

And crash into the middle of someone’s chest.

Hands grip my upper arms, steadying me as I stumble back. Once I’m righted, I look up, and my mouth falls open.

“Cosima—”

“Haldir—”

Both of us freeze, having spoken at the same time. I purse my lips, waiting for him to go first. He raises an eyebrow, evidently expecting the same of me.

But I can’t make the words happen. His hands on my arms send my mind right back to the tension of last night, to the room that started light and open and turned more intimate than it should as the night went on.

Haldir’s arms fall to his sides. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you turning the corner. Are you alright?”

I nod, my eyes darting from his chest clothed in a cobalt blue tunic up to his eyes. The intensity from last night is gone, now replaced with a noticeable degree of hesitance.

Interesting.

Did he feel something last night, too? Or does he know I did, and now feels awkward around me?

That last thought sends a wave of stress through me. Was I horribly obvious? Have I messed everything up?

“Are you off to Lavandil’s shop,” he inquires, pulling my mind away from these anxiety-inducing thoughts.

“Yes.”

He quirks a smile. “Then I imagine you will be seeing a lot of my brother today. He has a tendency to hang around there.”

“Probably a result of him being in love with the shop-owner,” I quip, voice going high with nerves.

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes, I suppose that would do it.”

We fall into awkward silence.

Haldir clears his throat. “Well, enjoy your day.”

“You too,” I nod, crossing paths with him to exit the building.

Once outside, I take in a gulping breath.

Did I create all that weirdness? Or is he struggling to figure out how to act around me, too? And why?

Things have never been strained or awkward between myself and Haldir. Once he got over his initial suspicion of me, we got along easily. I feel like he understands me better than the others and, if I had to pick a favorite, as Rumil prompted me not so long ago, it would be, without question, the supposedly-stern Marchwarden leading our company. And, based on the amount of time he spends with me of his own accord, I would say he enjoys my presence, too.

So, that begs the question, what could have happened to turn all that ease on its head and replace it with stilted, awkward, unsure interactions? We were fine until last night—

I suck in a breath.

My brain, apparently useless until I looked the issue straight in the eye, starts piecing together instances of my time with Haldir, forming a terrifying and exhilarating picture.

Sleeping between me and the entrance to our camp so I wouldn’t be frightened. Spending hours alone with me lying on a blanket staring up at the stars. The way he panicked and looked after me when I had my migraine. Big things like that and smaller ones, too — the way he teases me, the way he always makes sure I’m cared for, whether that means sharing from his canteen or sending me with food when I’m likely to miss dinner. The way he’s conscious of my fears—heights, orcs, you name it—and provides support without coddling me, enabling me to handle and face them on my own. The way his arms, so gentle yet so secure, held me close, even for just the smallest of moments.

Could we…have feelings for each other?

Could this rapid and strong attachment to an ellon I met mere weeks ago be something other than friendship?

With a sinking feeling in my gut, the momentary rush of excitement falls into something much more sinister. Something that, in any other world would be a wonderful, thrilling feeling—the one I am developing feelings for maybe, potentially, might see me the same way—is here, horrifying.  

Because elves live forever and love only once.

And a human lifespan is dismally short.

Rumil’s face after our conversation yesterday, crestfallen and saddened, comes to my mind.

If my mere friendship with these ellyn will cause them grief when I’m gone, then even entertaining these thoughts about Haldir….

It’s deplorable.

From the heart of the city, the bell chimes. I’m late to meet Lavandil.

I shove down the ache that makes my lips quiver and hurry down the path that will lead me to the market.

The distraction of working with Lavandil will be my lifeline.

I cannot allow my feelings for Haldir progress any further. So, though I’m not sure how effective I’ll be, I swear not to think about him for the rest of the day.

{***}

“What happened last night between you and Haldir?”

Damn.

I made it two hours.

I swallow, trying to seem busy as I hang a tapestry on a display. “What?”

Lavandil comes up beside me, using her height to hang the art properly. “Rumil told Orophin who told me that Haldir came back from training with you and seemed quite flustered.”

My body runs hot. “Did he?”

“Mhm,” she nods decisively. “Apparently he returned to the room in a rush, wouldn’t say a thing, and then spent over three hours at the training grounds, sparring quite harshly with some of the guard.”

Even though the tapestry is hung, I pretend to fuss with it, not brave enough to meet Lavandil’s eyes. “Nothing happened. Maybe he just wanted a better workout — I can’t imagine I was much of a challenge.” I try for a joke, and mercifully, she gives me a pity laugh.

Her demeanor softens. “Cosima, you know there’s nothing wrong with having an attraction, or even feelings.”

“Of course there’s something wrong with it,” I shriek, much louder than I meant to. I look at her with wide eyes, surprised by my outburst.

Thankfully, no one is in the shop, and Lavandil only regards me with calm eyes, no judgement in them.

“I’m sorry,” I hurry to apologize, sitting myself in a chair at a nearby table. On top of it sits a beautiful garnet tablecloth — Lavandil’s work. She sits across from me.

“It’s alright,” she smiles kindly, resting her elbows on the table to mirror me. “I had a similar disposition when I realized I loved Orophin.”

“I don’t love him,” I correct quickly.

She puts her hands up in the sign for surrender, though her bottom lip pulls like she’s trying not to make a face.

“I don’t,” I insist, putting effort into keeping my tone non-angry. I lower my voice, worried, perhaps irrationally, that Haldir himself will go waltzing by and hear my dreadful confession. “It’s, at most, an interest, and probably not even that. Likely more of a curiosity.”

“Well, interests are nothing to be ashamed of.” Her tone matches my low volume and carries in it a gentleness I could never hope to emulate.

“Yes, they do!” My voice drops to nearly a whisper. “Lavandil, he is an elf. You know I’m human. The two don’t mix well.”

She huffs. “There’s nothing to say that. An elleth here, Arwen—”

“Is walking into a tragedy,” I cut her off.

Lavandil’s eyes narrow. “Too many people see it that way, and it is getting quite old. Do you know what I see? Two souls in love. Though their futures are bleak and incompatible, their presents are filled with joy and love and the connection that can only come from two fæs who want each other so badly finally bonded. They would still face pain if they ignored their love for each other — so why not give themselves what joy they can?”

“But she will die—”

Now it’s Lavandil’s turn to interrupt. “Arwen is fully grown. She is wise, and I trust that she knows herself well enough to make the choices she has. Her life is ultimately her own. She can spend it how she pleases.”

I press my lips together, head falling to stare at the deep red tablecloth. Despite Lavandil’s conviction, her words do nothing to allay my fears.

The only thing that awaits an elf bonded with a human is grief and death.

Arwen may have made her choice, but so have I made mine.

“Rumil said elves can take centuries to fall in love. Is that true?”

Lavandil pauses, caught off guard with my change in topic. “I-in some cases, yes. More that it could potentially take that long for an elf to admit they are in love. Often, even if they are not ready to accept it, their fæs know. And even then, that is the timeline in the most rare of cases. You know, for Orophin and I it only took a matter of—”

I raise my eyes to her, pleading. “Lavandil.”

She sighs, staring at me like she wishes I had asked her something else. “Fine, yes. Elves fall slower than humans.”

I take in a deep breath, nodding.

Good.

Because if I have only just noticed these feelings, chances are, if Haldir were to follow suit, he is way behind. The instance Lavandil described from last night, the other hints that show he might be feeling something…I can end them now.

I have time to stop this.

I have time to save him.

A/n So, funny thing, @errruvande got pretty close to guessing Cosima’s reaction to realizing her feelings for Haldir, so shout out to Liza!!! Seriously though, love her, love her blog, I’d definitely recommend checking her account out! Thank you all for reading! 

|next part|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande 

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

[theonlybatopus]

SelfShip Week Attempt 2

Since you guys are running until the end of the month now, I decided to take another crack at it! With far less angst and far more idiocy :D

First day prompt under the cut because it’s long-ish.

If you’d like tags they are on the A03 link but really so far everything is pretty “PG-13″ rated.

@selfshipperapproved

This was all your sisters’ fault.

Everything usually was but this took the cake. Weren’t older siblings supposed be the ones who took care of things not made them infinitely more difficult?!

“What do you mean ‘she’s gone’?”

“That she’s no longer in the estate.”

“I know what you—never mind. Just…do mother and father know?”

“Not presently.”

You can feel a stomachache coming and wrap your arms around yourself for comfort. One small thing that might make it all salvageable. Maybe. Who knows what other servants—

“Then who does?”

“Myself and her maid…and the stables.”

“…wonderful.” Your hands creep up to rub at your temples. You needed a plan. There were only—you glanced to the clock—six hours until she was meant to be saying her vows. You could handle this. You always handled her messes; this one was no different.

If you didn’t include the fact that she basically just made your family name ruin a treaty before it fucking started!

“Okay…okay, everyone is to keep silent. <i>Do not</i> tell my parents a word, do you understand? Absolute silence. If you have to throw the babbler mouths in the dungeon, do it. But no one breathes a word until after the wedding.”

“Anything else?”

With a shaky breath you straighten. You’re both the same height, same hair color. This could work.

“Bring me the dress maker and my sisters dress.”

--

“It’s good to see you taking this well, dear, I’m so proud of you.”

You nod behind the veil as your father walks you down the aisle and imagine strangling your sister. If she ever came back, she owed you. More than owed you. She would be your indentured servant for life. If you didn’t cause the war to restart and get killed when everyone found out that is.

Heart thundering you held back a whimper or groan or mix of both when he finally released you with a kiss on forehead. A hand on your back to push you towards the groom. Who was nothing like what you expected, not that you’d even seen a picture, that privilege was for the actual fucking bride!

Even though no one could see if, you tried to smile at him from behind the veil, taking in his features instead of hearing the words around you. He wasn’t half bad. For a skeleton. It could have been worse as far as arranged marriages went. Sure, his teeth were sharp enough to rip out your throat, and maybe he looked like he could snap you in half but standing there with his hands in his pockets…well, it could have been worse is all.

A throat cleared and you focused, gaze flickering until they met your soon-to-be husbands. When you still did nothing, he raised an eyebrow and glanced down. Rings! Right!

“I do.”

You half whispered it as you slid on the ring. Thankfully no one else aside from those at the front can hear it and recognize you. Especially when the skeleton laughs at you lowly, and the official continues over you sternly. You’d almost ruined it before it finished. Resisting the urge to smack yourself in the face you focus on what is being said. If you can just get through this, you could deal with the fall out later.

Divorces took what? A few weeks to process. You could delay a war for a few weeks, maybe your settlement could be—wait, would this sort of thing even have a divorce process. Gods what had you don—

Another cough.

Shit!

What was he saying?

“You may kiss the bride.”

Well, fuck.

You’d forgotten about that.

There’s no time to back out as the skeleton yanks you to him, done with what probably looks like you stalling. Thankfully it’s a press of teeth over the veil. Lips and pointed edges meeting then drawing the smallest bit of blood from your lips as he pulls away.

He releases you as abruptly as he’d grabbed you, the same passive grin on his face as he licks blood off his tooth and raises your still joined hands.

“I now pronounce you, husband and wife!”

--

You’d managed to not talk to any of your own family during the shortest and tensest reception you’d ever been a part of. So far, no one had noticed. Actually, you think your mother did but her eyes had only gone a little wide then she her smile was back and you thought maybe you’d imagined it.

But now you were panicking.

Worse than your parents finding out was the monsters, but you couldn’t wear a veil the whole night. Maybe if you told him you were shy and covered your face with a pillow instead? Wait…did monsters even have sex? Maybe you had nothing to worry about.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and you barely held back a scream.

“Ya die in there or what?”

“Y-no! I’m…freshening up!”

“Ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that.”

The words were easy going but his tone said hurry the hell up. Pressing your palms over your mouth you silently screamed before pulling open the door with a smile, veil still in place.

“My apologies for not—”

“’Nough with the formalities. Sit.”

He jerked his head to the bed and you cautiously went to sit while he leaned against the doorframe and watched you. His lights were small enough that they were almost gone and frankly, terrifying.

“If I upset you, I’m sorry. It must be nerves.”

“Yeah. Lotsa nerves when ya been lyin’ all day.” His words could almost be comforting if not for the last bit. You feel yourself tense, ready to bolt. He only snorts and stalks forward, flipping the veil with a casual flick of his wrist before you have a chance to process what the hell just happened. “’S what I thought.”

“I can explain!”

“Sure, ya can.” He sighs.

“I mean it, I—”

“Nah,” he cuts you off and plops on the bed beside you with a yawn. “Didn’t mean I doubted ya, just don’t give a fuck.”

“I…what.”

For a few minutes you just stare at each other. Him lying on the bed while you sit there like a gaping fish before he laughs a little and pats the bed beside him.

“Look, s’all for looks. Ain’t even my plan, ‘s my brothers and all of ‘em.” He shrugs and loosens his tie, getting supremely comfortable for someone who just married the wrong person. Once more he pats the bed, an invitation to lay down. “Just relax, yer wound tighter than a spring, ain’t ya?”

You think about all the panic. Your sister running away to escape this. About how you probably could have sent a servant instead. About how it was all for show like you’d thought and a laugh bubbles to the surface. Even to your own ears it’s a little hysterical until you’re laugh so hard you’re crying.

When you finally manage to stop, he’s still just watching you but the tension in your shoulders is gone and he pats once more. This time you flop on the bed beside him and stare at the ceiling while you try to process the day finally.

“…what happens when your brother finds out then?”

“He ain’t gonna find it as humerous as me.”

“But—”

“Look, s’all already done. Married ya. Can’t do shit ‘bout it now, and tibia honest, I don’t give a shit. So take a nap and ya can find out tomorrow.”

“Were those puns?”

Snoring is your only response. You know he’s faking but honestly…you’re pretty tired too.

Your mind is trying to go a hundred miles an hour but there is only so many surprises you can handle in a day. With a sigh you close your eyes as one last thought drifts through your head.

“Should’ve said to-marrow.”

“Heh. Not bad.”

[kayteewritessteve]

Love and War - 8/16

Description: In a harsh medieval world, you set out on a perilous quest that will lead you onto a forbidden land. A land ruled and controlled by a ruthless Warlord King, one who does not look favourably upon trespassers of any kind, and punishes all with an iron fist. You may not know exactly where this quest will end, but what you do know is you will forever be altered by it. And that knowledge alone is what truly terrifies you the most.

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 3,540 ish.

Pairing: Medieval!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG for now. May become 18+ later.

Warnings: Violence. Curse words. Mentions of fears and potentially brutal medieval tactics. Most likely more to come down the road. Please don’t let these warnings scare you too much, give the story a try before you judge it.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader either, so I do proudly own all these errors and this story, so there’s that.

You sit on the bench in the garden, the one under the wisteria covered, trellised walkway. It has been 3 days since you first visited this beautiful place with Steve. And you’ve come back every day since, something about this place just calms you, eases your troubled mind.

In the last 3 days, you hadn’t seen Steve once, not even so much as caught a glimpse of him. You’d asked Nat yesterday, as she’d been the one to watch over you that day, where he was, why you hadn’t seen him in so long.

But all she told you was he was dealing with a few rather pressing matters, and that you’d see him again soon. ‘Soon’ could either mean hours, or days, or weeks. And none of those options pleased you, in any way. You honestly missed him, missed his warmth, missed his whole presence. It was just all so peculiar. How you could so deeply miss a man you barely knew, a man who basically kept you trapped in this place. Away from your family, your home, your life.

But yet, you did miss him, and painfully at that. When he wasn’t near you, you felt empty, desolate. You felt like only half of yourself, like an entire part of you was just gone. The urge to look for him, to seek him out was all encompassing. It took everything in you to fight it, to force yourself to wait till he came to you. But that was not an easy feat.

However, to help quell those thoughts, you’d come to the garden, and draw whatever caught your eye that day. Flowers, trees, birds, everything and anything really. You were slowly beginning to fill the beautiful leather bound sketchbook, the one you’d found in your room.

When you’d returned to your room 3 days ago with Clint, after your first visit to the garden. You’d found the beautiful sketchbook on your bed, with a few pencils on top. All of it wrapped in a lovely red ribbon tied in a bow, with a small slip of parchment attached to it. And on the slip was your name, written in beautiful cursive and ‘- S’ at the bottom.

You knew instantly that Steve had given you the sketchbook and pencils, probably upon hearing you liked to draw. It was so very sweet, and you wanted to thank him, in person, but as you’d yet to see him since, you sadly hadn’t gotten the chance to yet.

You focused back on your sketch, you were in the middle of trying to draw a beautiful Splendid Fairywren that had landed nearby. It had perched itself on a small branch, and the contrast between the small birds deep blue feathers and the green of the foliage around him, was breathtaking. You’d decided the second you’d noticed him, that he would be your muse for today.

But drawing a bird of such a glorious colour was impossible, since all you currently had were black pencils. Though, even if you’d had coloured pencils, you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to replicate the lovely hue of his feathers. So a black and white, simple sketch of him would just have to do. A small image to look upon, and remember fondly the beauty of the little Splendid Fairywren.

You glance up at him, and watch as he flies away, then you instantly hear them. Footsteps upon gravel. You sigh, looks like your time here is up for today. You flick your eyes towards where the footfalls are coming from, and see Sam’s friendly gapped tooth smile. Instantly causing a smile to form on your lips to match his.

You hadn’t seen Sam much the last few days either, not since he’d walked you to your room after your first dinner here. The night you formally met Steve. And just like that, he is all you can think about once again. Gods darnit! You’d just gotten him out of your head.

Once he gets close to you, he bows his head, “good morning, Y/N.”

You bow just your head in return, “hello Sam, how have you been?”

He stands back up, and nods, “good. Well.” He glances around at the lush garden that surrounds you both, “I hear you’ve been coming here often. I don’t get out here much myself, but I can understand why you’d pick this spot as your sanctuary.”

You look around at all the beautiful flowers, “yes, it’s a truly lovely place to just sit awhile and draw. I find myself happiest when I’m here.”

“I’m glad,” he smiles, then offers you his hand, “it’s time for lunch. I had some free time so I figured I’d take over for Clint, and escort you to lunch myself.”

You take his hand and allow him to help you up, saying a quiet, “thank you,” once you were fully standing. You quickly straighten out the skirts of your beautiful red dress, and then rest your hand on this forearm. “‘Free time’?” You repeat, as you both walk back towards the door into the castle. “Pray tell, what has had you so busy lately? I’ve barely caught a glimpse of you in days.”

“Nothing ever gets passed you, hey?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll have to make sure to choose my words more wisely around you from now on,” he smirks down at you. And you just stare pointedly back up at him, awaiting your answer. If your last talk was anything to go on, then you’d bet that Sam was someone who could be easily persuaded, with just a simple pointed look or a small pout. That would come in handy in the future, if that were the case, so right now you were testing that theory.

He narrows his eyes at you for a moment, an intense standoff taking place with just your stares. But then he sighs deeply, and breaks the eye contact as you both enter back into the castle. “I’ve just been busy helping the King with a few matters.”

Looks like he can be persuaded, good to know. You grin to yourself, as you both walk down the long sunny corridor, “and how is he?” You pause, then add, “The King, I mean. Is he well?”

“He is,” he nods, “though his spirits have been a little low, as of late. Which in turn, has caused him to be a bit more irritable than normal. But nothing we all can’t handle, he is usually pretty cranky.” He chuckles fondly, then mumbles quietly, “just usually never this bad.”

You furrow your brows, “he is usually always irritable?” you ask quietly. You can’t even imagine the sweet, thoughtful King you have slowly come to know, being cranky, ever. He has always been so patient and kind with you, he’s never shown you any other side of him. But then again, you’ve barely spent any time with him. Nor do you really know much about him. So you may just have not gotten the opportunity to see his cranky side yet. Let’s hope you don’t get that chance for awhile, as you are becoming rather fond of his soft side.

“For the most part,” Sam nods, “but you must understand, he has a lot to deal with. All of which can really weigh a man down.” He sighs deeply, “though normally we can tell when things are getting too much for him, and we can tread lightly, or try to remove some of the weight off of him. But lately,” he shakes his head, “lately, the smallest of inconveniences just seems to set him off. But we all understand the true reasons as to why he is so cranky, and unfortunately there just isn’t anything that any of us can do about it. He has to work this out for himself, though I have faith that he will soon enough. As there is much at stake if he does not.”

“And what are these true reasons for which you speak? Why is he so tightly wound as of late?”

“It’s hard to explain,” he sighs again, “and really not my place to even try. He will tell you himself, all in due time. But for now, that is all you can know.”

You aren’t exactly happy what that answer, you are getting a little sick of having your questions brushed off. But out of everyone, besides the King, Sam is the one who has told you the most. Has answered the most of your questions, regardless of if it would get him in trouble or not. So you’d leave him be, but you’d clearly need to start writing all these question down. So when you did, finally, see the King again, you’d have a list of everything you wished to know about.

The weird trance like state you’ve seen a few of the Generals in, where they’d come to with information about or from the King. Who Sir Brock is, though that question you’d have to be strategic about. And now the reasons for which cause the King to be upset, the reasons for why he has such a short fuse lately.

You and Sam reach the dining room, lunch already spread out across the large table. No one else is in the room, just yourself and Sam, so all the food seems slightly overkill, even with Sam’s larger than normal appetite.

“Will anyone else be joining us?” You ask, as you take the seat you’ve now become used to, the one to the right of the King’s chair. You’ve eaten every meal in this room, sometimes with just one General present, other times with a few of them. But never with all of them at once, not since that first dinner you’d attended.

Sam pushes your chair in and then takes his seat next to you, “no, it’s just us today.”

You nod then begin to load up your plate, since being here your appetite has grown a little. No where near the level of everyone else’s though, as you are much, much smaller than them all. But it’s definitely larger for the likes of you now, what with all this food constantly on hand and available.

“So, Sam, tell me about yourself,” you start, taking a sip of your water and then continuing, “have you found your mate yet?”

Sam chokes on his mouthful, promptly swallowing and then coughing, he quickly takes a sip of his drink. “Damn, jumping right in, I see,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky I like you,” he shakes his head, “because mates are sacred. They aren’t usually something you just ask anyone about, it’s not really,” he pauses, humming for a second as he thinks, “polite to ask about them, to our kind. I guess you could say it’s sort of against the rules.”

“Oh,” you glance down, “I had no idea. I apologize, I was just curious to learn more about you.”

“It’s alright, Y/N,” he smiles reassuringly at you, “I know you meant well. You haven’t asked anyone else about them yet though, have you?”

“No, you are the first.”

“Okay, good,” he nods. “I’m glad you asked me first, instead of anyone else. That could have ended rather pourly for you. So from now on, if you are curious about anything to do with Lycans, either ask the King, or ask me first, just to be safe.”

“I will,” you nod. “Can you tell me a little more about mates, just in general. You don’t have to tell me anything about your own.”

“How much did the King tell you, exactly?” He asks, almost seeming cautious, nervous even.

“Just that Lycan’s have one true mate that are destined for only them. A soulmate. And that when they touch their true mate, they feel these insane tingles throughout their bodies.”

“That’s all he told you?”

“Yes, why? Is there more he should have told me?” You furrow your brows, then remember he did tell you one other thing, “though he did also mention that he’d met his mate already, but that’s all he could get out before Thor and Clint arrived to retrieve him.”

Sam hums, nodding, “okay, so then what would you like to know about them?”

“Do you know who the King’s mate is?”

“I do.”

“Who is she?” You quickly ask him the baited question, whichever way he answers will give you the information you seek.

“You’ll have to ask him about that.”

You huff, frustrated, “that seems to always be everyone's answer to my questions. Yet he is nowhere to be found. So how am I to ever ask him anything?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sam frowns, “I can’t imagine how frustrating this all is for you. But it is just not our place to tell you any of this, the fact I’ve told you all that I have already, is bad enough.” He sighs, “Alpha’s aren’t just our leaders, they are like our, our consciences. Our moral compasses. They have this power over us, we call it their Will. They can Will us to do anything, they can change our moods with it, they can even prevent us from speaking about certain things. They can influence almost anything within us, really.”

“That doesn’t seem right at all,” you shake your head. “So you’re telling me that the King can Will you to do anything he pleases? Whenever he pleases?”

“He can, but he doesn’t. Some Alpha’s I’ve heard of run with that power, they use it to control everyone and everything around them. But our King doesn’t, he only uses it when he absolutely has to. When there is no other way. It’s not all bad though, they can do a lot of good with it as well. They can relieve us of pain, improve our moods, help us through our worst times. A Will isn’t something to fear, it’s a gift they have to help us. To protect us. To take care of us.”

“Can he use his Will on anyone? Even humans?”

Sam shakes his head, “no, mainly only members of his own pack, and occasionally outside Lycan’s. It’s a supremacy thing, you can’t be Willed if you aren’t a wolf. If you don’t recognize him as a true Alpha, as your superior. A pack is very similar to a monarchy, except when our leader Wills us to do something, we have to do it.”

“And he’s Willed you before?”

“A few times, nothing major,” he shrugs. “Just small commands that I must follow through with.” He looks at you now, “at dinner, when he commanded me to return you to your room. He was using his Will to do so.”

“I’m sorry you had to be Willed because of me,” you mumble looking down at your plate.

“Y/N,” he says softly and you glance up at him. “Being Willed isn’t a bad thing. None of us mind it at all, but if we did, we are free to leave anytime. We aren’t slaves here, we are a family, a pack. One who deeply respects our Alpha, not just because he is our superior, but because he has, and continues to earn our respect. I’d do anything he asked of me, even if he didn’t Will me to do it.”

“Okay,” you nod, feeling a little better about this all. But still very weary. There is just so much you still don’t know, so much you still need to learn. And mates are still sitting at the forefront of your mind, you are still so curious about them. “How does one know who their mate is? Aside from touch, I mean.”

“It’s a feeling, like something is coming. Something pulls us towards them when they are near. It’s called a mate bond. Before we’ve met our mate the bond leads us to them, and once we’ve found them, it urges us to stay close to them. To just be near them. And as it grows, so does the need to protect them, to tend to them, to love them. But along with the bond, there are other things as well, our mates smell being a main one. As soon as we smell them for the first time, we just know, instantly. Without any doubt. And once our eyes lay upon them for the first time, our wolf will tell us they are our ‘mate’.”

“Your wolf?” You ask, curiously.

“Shit,” he whispers to himself, smacking his hand on his forehead. “I wasn’t supposed to mention that.”

“Well you did, so you might as well just tell me now. You know I won’t tell anyone, so spill it, Samuel,” you smirk at him, earning yourself a chuckle from the man.

“Using my full name now, huh?” He chuckles a little more. “That’s cold, Y/N. And here I thought we were friends,” he scoffs playfully.

“We are, for now,” you say coldly, then giggle at his dramatic gasp. “Okay, okay. How’s this, as long as you stop trying so horribly to hide stuff from me, I won’t use your full name. Deal?”

“Yeah, yeah, deal,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You drive a hard bargain, My Lady.”

“Now, what did you mean by ‘your wolf’?”

He sighs, “you see, our human forms and wolf forms are actually two separate beings. Yet always linked. We can talk to our wolves in our minds, converse with them. They can influence us sometimes, when they feel a deep basic emotion, such as rage, lust, or fear, they can sometimes even take over. Take full control of our human forms and do as they please. At least until we can reign them back in and force them to stand down, to retreat back to the depths of our minds.”

“What?” Your gasp, your eyes widening. “They can take over at any time?!”

He chuckles, “you don’t need to worry, Y/N. It takes very intense versions of those emotions for them to even react enough to want to take control, let alone actually do it. But just to ease your mind, there is a surefire way that you can very easily tell, when a wolf is trying or has successfully taken over. It’s all in the eyes. They darken when they are attempting to break through, or go completely black once they fully have.”

Your eyes widen, as a realization hits you. Steve’s eyes had turned nearly black the last time you’d spoken to him. Was that his wolf breaking through? “Does their voice also change slightly, when their wolf takes over?”

He furrows his brows now, “yeah, the words come out sounding like more of a growl. But how did you know that?”

“Then I believe I may have spoken to the King’s wolf the other day. When we were in the garden, his eyes went almost completely black and he basically growled his words out.”

“What?” Sam’s head snaps in your direction, his eyes wide, “it actually took control of him? What were you talking to him about before that happened?”

“Uh, I think so,” you nod slowly, unsure. “I just asked him when I could leave and return home. Then he basically growled that I couldn’t, that he wouldn’t allow it.”

Sam hums to himself, nodding as he turns back to his food. “Damn. Well that makes more sense then,” he mutters after a moment.

“What does?”

“Why his wolf took over.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, prompting him to go on.

“It’s protective of you. It doesn’t want you to leave,” he shrugs, “pretty simple, actually. Like I said, fear is one of the triggers for a wolf to attempt to take control.”

“But why would it fear me leaving?” You ask quietly, still a little confused by all of this.

“There are a bunch of reasons—“

“Lady Y/N,” a deep voice booms through the room, cutting Sam off.

You turn to see a very flustered and troubled looking Thor, standing in the doorway now. “Thor? What’s the matter, is everything alright?”

“I just received word that two of my guards have captured a man and woman trespassing, both have not stopped asking about you ever since. Demanding to know where you are, actually.”

You abruptly stand, “are their names Pietro and Wanda?”

“I believe that is correct,” he nods, “they are your siblings, yes?”

“Yes,” you nod, making your way towards the giant man. “Where are they, currently?”

“They have been taken to the holding cells, as is protocol,” he frowns down at you. “They must stay there until their trial.”

You want to yell how ridiculous that is. You want to demand they be released, but you are basically a prisoner here yourself. You don’t have the authority to demand anything here. So first you need to figure out if it is, in fact, Wanda and Pietro, and then you need to speak to the King, immediately.

“Can I see them,” you plead, as Sam appears beside you now. “Can you take me to them, please?”

He looks hesitant for a moment, but then nods once, “I can.”

“Okay, then lead the way,” you gesture for him to go and he exits the room, with you and Sam following closely behind. Your siblings may be here. They came to find you, to rescue you. And now you’d need to do the same for them. You’d need to get them out of those cells, and as fast as you possibly could.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

@caps-lockdown @tfandtws @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @imdiegohargreeves @zombiepotterfour @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @marvel13princess @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle @capsicledoll @givemehopenfandoms @pretendingandpreposterous @frozen-phoenix17

[imagine-a-killingharmony]

V3 Boys (Getting Embarrassed Infront Of S/O)

um, can I get a imagine of the v3 boys embarrassing themselves in front of there s/o? and the s/o is laughing at them. how do the boys react? please and thank you!

First V3 BOYS since opening the ask box! I’ll add in different ways to get embrassment, as per usual! Haha!

Kiibo

Did you know? Robots can get embrassed, they can make mistakes like anyone else can! S-So laughing at him, like that... s-stop it! I-It’s so mean- robophobic- gaaah!

Kiibo has... well, you found him watching “Bug Rangers” in the middle of the day, singing along to the theme song- adorably might I add... his face went bright red- as you chuckled at his reaction than the implications here...

He was on the verge of scolding you for being so mean about his interests, then on the verge of... crying, if he actually did have tears...! *Hic...!* D-Don’t laugh at him like thaaaat!

... Oh, your boyfriend? Now letting out choked little sobs as he says it’s not his fault the show is pure genius, well... you should have known Kiibo be emotional about a show this dear to him...

You have to explain you were only joking around... and watching the finale with him, he was right! It... is a pretty good show.

Shuichi Saihara

You were out to this cafe that Shuichi recommended for the both of you, he thought the coffee tasted good so you both brought something for yourselves and made small talk with eachother with a few laughs and chuckles...

When the order came by Shuichi had gotten too relaxed, sipped at his burning hot coffee and screamed in the highest pitched “UUUWEEEH” imaginable, he almost dropped the cup but put it down... before he could spill it over himself to make a bigger mess.

You giggled at the noise he made “UWEH?” that’s- how, who does that?

Shuichi apparently, who pulls his hat down over his head his face beating up as he silently begs using his eyes that you don’t dare tell a soul.

You kiss his cheek. “It was cute.” His blush intensfies, you get on with your day.

Ryoma Hoshi

Ryoma Hoshi? Embrassing himself? Wow, he thought it was impossible but here he was... his hair a mess after pulling his hat off for the first time in what seemed like decades, it was puffy and all over the place. It was laughable, two tiny messes of hair stood up just like cat-ears.

Ryoma never had the insatiable need to die more than right now, you were laughing- holding his hat above your head on the verge of tears from laughing so damn hard.

“It’s not that funny.” Hmnnnnggggbnh,,, not like he admit it... but he thought he couldn’t feel shame anymore, guess he’s wrong. He seriously wants to just jump into a hole, never ever come back out.

“I-It’s like cat-ears! Oh my god, let me take a picture Ryoma!” You take our your phone, taking some pictures of Ryoma trying to snatch his hat back only getting a sigh of annoyance (and utter embarrassment) back in return.

“Hmph... yer’ sense of humor’s pretty dry, isn’t it? Teasing ’ a guy like me just for the thrill of it.” Ryoma couldn’t even pull his hat down over his face to cover that faint red blush that cast over his features, heh... he still has a ways to go.

Kaito Momota

Kaito Momota Luminary of the Stars doesn’t make mistakes! He makes happy accidents, this is a GOD DAMN happy accidents....!

So... S-So when he makes the small mistake of letting you into his room, yes, him room which has a teddy bear in it- which you actually noticed he tells you he’s NOT sleeping with toys still! He- He’s a god damn YOUNG MAN but he’s not a kid!

You hold the bear delicately in your hands noticing how it’s in a spacesuit of it’s own, dressed as a tiny astronaut- it’s kind of old too from what you can tell.

“So you won’t mind if I throw him out the window?” You ask, grinning when he violently reacts.

“DON’T DO THAT TO MR BUZZ LIGHTYEAR! H-HE CAN’T FLY! H-He hasta’ use a spaceship for a reason, y’know?”

When you laugh- Kaito swipes the bear from your hands and tugs him close, grumbling as he goes to explain you can’t just diss his first EVER assistant ever! Even if... they are a snuggly soft bear, screw off!

... He’s left in a grumbling mood for the rest of the day, kind of pissed off from what you can tell, did... you actually anger him by dissing a stuffed bear? You’ll need to apologize later... to both him and Buzz Lightyear.

Rantaro Amami

His makeup. Rantaro usually knew how to handle it... he did it every day of his life, decided he needed to buy the mascara that doesn’t run that gets wet later, he used it all up so that be later- right now he’d improvise, it’s not like he’s the type to cry!

... He’s the type of person to get a bucket thrown at him as a prank from Kokichi Ouma, a bucket filled with water, it was almost hilarious how quickly he saw ink dripping down his face- you were already snorting and laughing at his face right now, he could only imagine how silly he looked.

So he laughed along, asking you to take a picture- he’s brought more make-up along this is easy to fix. But wow! The one day, who would of thought right?

Maybe he’s the Ultimate Unlucky student, it’s not that big of a deal! You got a laugh out of it, didn’t you? That makes him happy enough, haha! Happy enough to forgive Kokichifor throwing water on him, he’s all wet now too...

Wait don’t take that out of context-!

Gonta Gokuhara

“Embrassing”? What’s embrassing to Gonta’s standards well... actually, that would be... this! Miu’s pickup lines strike again, he got told they be a “really good way of making you happy!” So he tried using them on you...

Only to be told that he was conplimenting dirty and wrong places, his face flushed and he was instantly apologizing for the sins he commuted which stop him from being a gentlemen!

You were laughing all the way trough trying to get it through his innocent yet thick skull that it wasn’t his fault nor was it something to apologize so much over.

“G-Gonta can’t ever become a gentlemen now although, S-S/O! O-Only way to redeem Gonta is apologizing... Gonta sorry! R-Really sorry! H-He still doesn’t get why the number 69 is bad... but-!”

While choking on your own laughter you accept Gonta’s apology and comfort him, it’s hilarious how pure your boyfriend is... now time to wait to get your revenge on Miu for making Gonta feel such agony.

Kokichi Ouma

There’s no explanation other than this, Kokichi Ouma laughed so hard at a joke MIU IRUMA made to the point he fell out of his chair. It was a crappy joke at that one, something something- we’re keeping this PG!

You began to giggle under your breath, but Kokichi carefully picked himself up trying to make it look like a pure lil’ lie! “Wow! That joke was soooo bad, I fell out of my chair cringing! Neeheehee!”

Yet you still giggled at him, underestimating him, are you? Well... he knows a way to shut you up. Of course he pouts, glares as hard as he can at Miu for ruining his reputation like this... Then goes to make his next move! Heehee.

Kokichi moves in to kiss you on the lips to hold you in place, right, Miu’s still in the room to see this occur and cringes at the entire show infront of her- but that’s not important... he leans in, close to your ear- grinning ear to ear.

“Just to prove Miu’s can make all the dirty jokes in the world and yet she’ll never get some.” He sticks his tongue out at her, revenge at it’s finest.

Korekiyo Shinguuji

Sometimes even he doesn’t understand how his own complicated mask works, it was yet another day of observing you, eating breakfast together... yes, you were quite stunning then, he didn’t notice such an obvious oversight.

“Korekiyo?” You were snorting, he didn’t know why. Well, that is until he looked down to find himself pouring burning hot tea on himself, his mask zipper completely closed, ah. His pain tolerance was higher than he expected, honestly that felt quite nostalgic.

“... Is something the matter?” And it’s all over himself now, Korekiyo puts the tea down. “I don’t believe there’s anything that needs to be discussed.”

“... K... Korekiyo it looks like you should go get a change of clothes- pfft- oh my god-“

“Everything is fine.” No it’s not, but he’s not admitting a thing. Despite how harshly you try to explain how that might stain... you can’t convince him, what tea? He doesn’t know about any tea, oh my, he is rather parched although- look at that, some totally fine tea he wasn’t pouring onto himself.

Nothing is wrong here.

[chantelle-x0x]

Lies and Heartbreak - M!Raleigh Carrera x MC (Diana Walsh)

A/N: It’s been a damn hot minute since I posted for Choices, so I’m back with angst. Also, I will make a face claim aesthetic, but for now MC is Shay Mitchell and Raleigh is Diego Boneta. All mistakes are mine btw xx 

As this is my first fic in a while, I haven’t found my tag list yet, so lmk if you wanna be tagged in future, but as for this moment I’m gonna tag my angst sister @the-everlasting-dream and the lovely @choicessa

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the fiction. All rights go to Pixelberry Studios.

Word count: 2,228

Pairing: M!Raleigh Carrera x MC (Diana Walsh)

Rating: PG/T15+

Warnings: Angst, alcohol consumption and a swear word.

Summery: It’s time the fake relationship between Diana and Raleigh to end, but she didn’t think he’d break her heart like very other woman he’d known.

Diana knew that there was something different about Raleigh when she met him. He couldn’t believe that she didn’t know who he was, and that did attract him to her a lot more, so when Diana was told she had to have a fake relationship with Raleigh and she saw how chilled out about it he was, she was excited. After a few weeks of faking a relationship, Diana developed real feelings for Raleigh, she knew it was a bad idea to fall for him but how could she control her feelings? He would touch her in very delicate ways that sent tingles all over her body, and she was sure she was doing things to him too. There were times when they’d be out on a “date” in a fabulous restaurant and he’d rest his hand on her thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. He became quite a softy around her and she loved it so much; he was a different person around her, in private, and Diana felt so special, but all special things have to come to an end eventually.

‘Hey, Diana!’ Raleigh called as he saw her walking into the studio.

‘Oh hey, Raleigh.’ Diana greeted back, kissing his cheek with a slight smile. There were always pap around the outside of the studio, but Diana couldn’t lie to herself, this was becoming a very good habit, Raleigh was like her drug and she was addicted to him. Raleigh smiled at her and entwined their hands together.

‘We need to talk.’ He whispered to her in a tone she was all too familiar with, something bad was going to happen.

‘Yeah, sure.’ She said while hiding her fear. They entered the studio together with their heads down. Obviously the paparazzi picked up on them wanting personal space because something was going on, so they surrounded them.

‘Hey, Raleigh! Is the Diana, Raleigh relationship going to last long?’ One pap asked, while another asked, ‘Diana! Is it true that Raleigh is cheating on you with the other contestant from One in a Billion, Jaylen? Is your relationship on the rocks because of this, or is this just another rumour?’ Diana knew this was what she was getting herself into, but gosh she hoped Raleigh wasn’t doing that to her. Maybe this really was all a game to him, just part of his job.

‘We have to go, dude.’ Raleigh said, pushing past the crowd. They finally managed to get into the studio and Diana laughed a little at how this was now her life; getting away from paparazzi when anything serious was about to go down.

‘You needed to tell me something?’ Diana asked as she sat down on one of the chairs. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail today while a few strands framed her face.

‘I was told by my management that we can finish up with the whole dating facade in the next couple of days. Your album hit number one on the charts within the first week and your team wants to keep you in the spotlight with a breakup. Obviously it’ll look amazing that you can still do shows and act as though everything is okay even though you're breaking down mentally and emotionally, but in reality you’ll be absolutely fine.’ She hummed in response and slumped a little in her seat.

‘And how do you feel about it?’ She asked. Honestly, Raleigh had fallen hard for the woman sitting in front of him. She was witty and funny, but sweet and kind. He could get on her nerves but she could get on his, yet in the end, they’d always have fun together. He had never been in a real relationship and this kind of scared him, but he knew that his rep wasn’t a good one. Diana needed someone like Avery, not him. So, he lied.

‘I feel normal. I mean, this was all for the fame, nothing was real.’ That hit her hard because of what happened only a couple of weeks before.

‘Nothing was real?’ Diana repeated and Raleigh nodded. ‘So, when you took me home the other night and I invited you inside, when things started to get really heated between us and we went to my bedroom, the things you promised me, they all meant nothing to you?’ This was killing Raleigh, everything he hoped Diana wouldn’t say, she said.

‘Don’t take it personally, Di, I say whatever to get a woman into bed.’ Tears brimmed her eyes but she would not allow herself to be vulnerable in front of Raleigh, not again. So instead, she smiled softly.

‘You’re right and this is my fault since I should’ve known better. This was all nothing, it wasn’t supposed to mean anything for either of us and I’m sorry I let my feelings come into play. I just hope things won’t change between our friendship though.’ There were few things in life that Raleigh hated, but he hated this. He never thought that fake dating Diana would cause him to have feelings, real feelings.

‘Of course we’ll still be friends. Look, I have to go but if you ever need a late night call, I’m your guy.’ He winked as he left. Diana had never really experienced heartbreak and although she knew that it hurt people, she didn’t know that it could hurt her so much. She was pretty closed off in life, so opening up was never her forte, then Raleigh came along and she changed. Unfortunately, she changed for a guy, Raleigh Carrera of all men.

The day passed by slowly and Diana found a dark and sad side of herself, so what better way to use that than turn it into music. ‘I’m gonna be the next Taylor Swift.’ She thought as she packed her guitar away. She pulled out her phone and dialled a number.

‘Shane, hey. I need to get out. Meet at the club?’ It was short conversation before Diana left for her apartment and changed into a short and tight black, sparkly dress that had spaghetti straps; the dress left very little to the imagination. Hank rolled around in the limo and soon they were picking Shane up.

‘Damn, Diana.’ The girl blushed and scooted over, giving a champagne flute to her best friend.

‘Raleigh announced our “relationship” was over this afternoon to the public, I’ve been dodging the pap as much as I can, but I’m done being the good girl form a small town. Even I need to get out and be bad sometimes.’

‘I’m here for that, Di. Just, be careful okay?’ She downed the whole flute and giggled.

‘Always am. Thank you so much for always being there for me, Shane. You’re the best friend a girl could ever ask for.’ You pull up to the club. ‘Now let’s go get dancing and drink a little too much!’ Shane laughed at his friend, but stepped out with her. Diana went up to the bouncer and without a second glance, she and Shane were allowed in. Now the night was finally going to get started.

Diana went straight for the drinks and Shane followed her, but was soon distracted by someone who caught his eye. ‘Go, have fun, Shane!’ She yelled over the music. He apologised and thanks her before dancing with them. Diana was soon met by a guy, blonde hair, blue eyes, not Avery but similar. She was taken onto the dance floor and started grinding against him. This was not the way to get over someone or get through tough time and she knew that, but Diana was done being told who she was meant to be. There would be a day when most people had gone through this faze and she was doing it now. Soon, in her drunken state, she was pinned against the club wall by this 6’2 man and sighing as he left marks on her neck. She’d regret it the day after, but the future was the future and the past was the past, now was the present and she was living in the now. Shane saw her about to leave with this man and pulled her away.  ‘What the hell, Shane?’ She shouted angrily.

‘I wasn’t going to let you go home with a stranger, Diana. You’re going through something, I get it, but this isn’t you.’

‘I’m sick and tired of people telling me who I am, Shane! This is me! I’m gonna be like this sometimes and it’s different, but if you can’t handle this, then just leave. In fact, I want you to go.’

‘Come on, Diana.’ Shane touched her hand but she pulled away sharply.

‘I need to be alone, Shane. Just leave.’ Shane wasn’t an idiot, so he left her and went out the door of the club. Diana took his leave as a cue to do shots by her lonesome. A woman sat next to her and recognised her.

‘OMG! YOU’RE DIANA WALSH!’ She shouted.

‘Please keep it down. Look, if you don’t tell anyone I’m here, I’ll buy you a drink.’ Diana said with a small, drunk smile.

‘Awesome! I won’t say anything to anyone, but isn’t it awks since Raleigh’s here too?’ She hadn’t noticed that Raleigh was sitting in a booth with his arm slung over some woman. A woman that wasn’t her. No amount of alcohol could prepare the girl for this. It was still raw for her and the last thing she wanted to see was Raleigh with another chick. Not replying, Diana told the bartender to add whatever the woman wanted to her tab and left. Confidence was a new thing she gained, and the buzz in her made her that much more. She walked over to the table Raleigh was sitting at.

‘Looks like you moved on fast.’ She spat at him. Raleigh had his signature smirk gracing his features. ‘Now isn’t the time to fall for him again, Diana.’ She told herself. If he had known she was going to be there, Raleigh would not have been there too. It hurt him to see her like this, drunk out of her mind and the pain she was feeling was all too evident on her face. She tried so hard to hide it, but it was all too easy for him to read her at this point.

‘Now, Diana, moving on would require me needing to be into you.’ The moment that sentence slipped through his teeth, he regretted it. The sharp breath Diana breathed in indicated that she was taken aback by his hurtful worlds.

‘Emotionally, not literally.’ Jaylen chimed in. Jaylen, Jaylen was the woman with Raleigh. That took a moment for Diana to take in.

‘Out of everyone, you’d choose to be with Jaylen!?’ Diana was almost crying at this point, but she concealed it as best she could.

‘D’you know how amazing it feels to win? I mean, I didn’t win One in a Billion but I did win Raleigh. I mean, he did choose me over you and that in itself is a win.’ The world spun and Diana almost lost her balance. Jaylen laughed and mocked her for not being able to sustain her alcohol, but Raleigh got up and rushed to her like he was an olympic racer.

‘I’m fine.’ She hissed at him. If Raleigh could take back breaking things off with Diana, he’d do it in an instant; the look of her breaking and falling apart in front of him, because of him, was wrecking him from the inside out. She broke out of his light grip and pushed him away from her. ‘I don’t need your help, Raleigh. I never did and I never will again.’ She sighed and then started laughing, not caring about the judgment she was receiving from Raleigh’s friends. ‘You know what’s funny, Raleigh?’ He raised an eyebrow in question. ‘I never trusted anyone but Shane, then I got into this industry and for some insane reason, I decided I’d trust you too. You reminded me why I didn’t trust anyone to begin with.’ With that, she wobbled her way out and bursted into tears as she walk out the door. Paparazzi would feed from this, but Shane stayed for her. He hugged her and let her hide her head in his chest. He tried his best to shield her and ventured for Hank to give a helping hand. They made it into the limo and Diana fell on one of the long seats. ‘Thank you, and I’m really sorry, Shane.’

‘I’m always there for you, Dee.’ He smiled at her as she started to close her eyes.

‘I don’t know why I try to fall in love, I always fall for the wrong ones.’ She started laughing again. ‘Raleigh’s a great actor. He made me believe he wanted me too.’

‘Diana, maybe he’s just scared he’s going to hurt you.’ Shane suggested.

‘Maybe, or maybe he’s a dick and I was too blind to see it.’ She smirked. ‘Ah well.’ Soft snores left her a few seconds after she said those last two words.

‘Goodnight, Diana.’ Shane said chuckling. There would be repercussions for her actions, but Diana would deal with it the next day. Tonight, she needed to sleep and get over Raleigh a little.

[welcometophu]

Extra: someone to haul him back

At the end of Missed Fortunes, Pawel sends a message to Carolyn that he’s leaving to look into something. But he’ll be back for Into the Split, and I decided to write a wee short piece about his absence and return, from the perspective of his neighbor, Emily.

--

someone to haul him back PG, ~4k words, Gen (Pawel, Emily, Conor, Alan, John)

“It’s only been a few days, John. We’re doing fine.” Emily has half an ear on the phone and the other half tuned to the background sounds in her house. Alan and Conor are up in Alan’s room and, despite the no magic rule, the lights have flickered three times since they got home from school. As the power blinks one more time, she sighs. “Excuse me, hang on.” She covers the mouthpiece of the phone, lowering it away from her mouth.

“Alan! Conor! Whatever you are doing that’s affecting the electricity, cut it out! Conor, you promised! Alan, Conor’s a guest and he can go somewhere else if he needs to!” She moves her hand, brings the phone back to her ear. “I’m not actually going to kick him out, John. You know that and I know that, and I’m sure they know that. We’re all just pretending.”

“I understand,” John murmurs. Emily’s positive he called from work; she can hear papers shuffling in the background, and the occasional tapping of a keyboard. “But still, it’s Wednesday, and he left Conor with you on Sunday. Have you heard from Pawel?”

Thuds across the ceiling, then a distinct pause before the next series of thuds down the stairs. Emily watches as the boys leap from three stairs above the landing trying to outdo each other in how far they can go. Conor shimmers in mid-air, and she’s positive his flight is enhanced by unconscious magic.

“No,” she admits, as the boys both skid to a stop in front of her. “Have you?”

“Is that Conor?” John asks, and Emily knows that means he hasn’t. “Put me on speaker.”

“Dziadziu!” Conor yells out as Emily presses the button.

“Conor.” John’s voice is low and deep. Even. Calm.

Pawel’s told Emily that he takes after his mother more than his father, and it’s times like this when Emily can see it clearly. And Conor’s exactly like Pawel. She wonders sometimes how John handles it, his son and grandson so different in personality from himself.

“Hullo, Grandpa Szczek!” Alan yells. He bumps shoulders with Conor. “I’m going to go get us juice and crackers. Come back upstairs when you’re done. We need to finish our homework. Hey mom, can we go over to the park after we’re done? It’s not raining and Addison said she’s going to walk her dog later.”

“Finish your homework first, then we’ll talk.” Emily’s all too used to the way Alan and Conor distract each other. “Show me finished work. And sooner is better; you can’t go if it’s too close to when your dad comes home and dinner’s on the table.”

“Conor, hurry up!” Alan admonishes before rushing off to the kitchen.

Conor watches him go, then reaches for the phone. Emily places it in his hands and hesitates, not sure if she should stick around.

No. John called her, and he’s on speaker. They’ll tell her if they want her to go.

She drops into the recliner and sits back, hands folded.

“How’s school?” John asks.

Conor paces as he talks, his free hand moving fluidly, gesturing between the air and the phone. Emily can almost see a trail of crackles in the air. “History sucks. I hate memorizing things, but Alan’s really good at it so he helps me. We’re doing fractions in math and that’s really easy. Marjorie’s still really stupid—”

“Conor.”

He cuts off at the sound of John’s voice. Conor stands there, one hand fixed in the air, his eyes wide. “Uninformed,” Conor says darkly. “I know I’m not supposed to call people stupid but I don’t know what else to say when she doesn’t listen and she doesn’t learn and everything she says is really mean and uninformed.”

Silence for a long moment. Emily’s met John several times, and she can easily imagine the patient but disappointed look he gives Conor. She’s sure Conor can imagine it too, from the way he squirms.

“Maybe she’s learning from someone else,” John says quietly. “There are a lot of people in this world, Conor, and they don’t all have the same beliefs.”

“But some things are just wrong!” Conor protests, his expression falling when John responds with silence again.

“Some things are wrong,” John agrees finally, “but there are other things which are, in the end, at least partly opinion. Some opinions may be kinder to others, but you can’t call someone stupid for having a different opinion.”

“She said a bad thing about religion,” Conor said. “And about me marrying Alan last fall.”

Emily had honestly thought that would blow over. She thought that they’d have their schoolyard wedding, and everything would go back to their usual friendship, like all third grade crushes. But her son and Conor had been steadfast in calling each other husbands since then. She isn’t sure if it’s their way of presenting a united front in magic and queerness, or if they’ve been close for so long that they honestly can’t see a future without each other.

They’re nine years old. There’s still so much future ahead.

“Teach her gently, Conor,” John says. “I grew up in a place where people said terrible things about me and my family, because my father spoke broken English, and my mother didn’t speak English at all. I got into fights when I was your age, and it took me a long time to realize that the only thing that fighting ever taught anyone was how to fight.”

Conor makes a disgruntled noise.

“Tell me about your science project,” John says. “Pawel mentioned that you’ve got a fair coming up in April.”

It’s a good way to reroute him, and Conor quickly shifts topics, explaining in detail how they’ve been teaching the classroom mouse to run through a maze. John mm-hms once in a while, but overall he lets Conor chatter on until Alan returns and nudges Conor with his foot. Alan’s hands are full with two brimming glasses of juice and a bowl of crackers, and Conor takes one of the glasses and drinks it between words.

“I have to go do homework, Dziadziu,” Conor says. “You can have Emily back now. I love you!” He sets the phone down on the table next to Emily, then kisses the air in the direction of it. There’s the distinct sound of a smacking kiss being sent back.

“Be good for Emily,” John admonishes.

Conor laughs, racing from the room and halfway up the stairs before he yells out, “I’m always good!”

Emily picks up the phone, but doesn’t bother taking it off of speaker. “It’s been a little chaotic,” she admits, once again answering his very first question about how things have been going since Pawel abruptly dropped Conor off on Sunday. “But then, it always is. Those two feed on each other, and I think it isn’t just emotional. Conor’s energy has been higher every day, and today I swear I can see the sparks when he moves. I wish I knew more about their magic, and how it works. I might want to reach out to that commune in Vermont that Pawel mentioned.”

“Mm,” John murmurs. “Or, if Pawel’s going to be gone for a long time, I could come get Conor. He could take a few days off school, have a small vacation with me, and get himself back under control. If it looks like it’s going to be longer, I can arrange for him to join a class here.”

“I hate the idea of uprooting him,” Emily says. She doesn’t need to think about it; she knows that it would be traumatic, and even when Conor says everything’s fine, she knows he’s worried about Pawel. “He and Alan lean on each other. Maybe it’s a little co-dependent, but I know I can rely on them to keep each other moving forward. Conor needs his stability right now. Besides, you aren’t any more comfortable with the magic than I am.” It’s not meant to be a jab, just a simple statement of fact.

After all, Conor is in a strange grey area of Talent, in that he probably inherited it from Pawel, but his father is Emergent, not Lineage. And Alan is purely Emergent. If Pawel’s theory is right, Alan’s Talent Emerged as strongly and as young as it did due to his friendship with Conor.

But Pawel didn’t Emerge until after he’d left John’s home to come to Unity.

“We’re both in the dark sometimes,” Emily says quietly, and John mm-hms his agreement.

There are thumps upstairs, but the lights stay steady, and Emily exhales. The sound of the game system starting up is distinct, and while Alan has it up too loud, she doesn’t mind right now, since she can tell what he’s doing. She knows they’re safe. She just hopes they’ve finished their homework, not decided to ignore it completely.

A door slams outside, and Emily reaches for the phone, heading for the door. “It sounds like Eric’s home early. Good, he can cook, while I walk over to the park with the boys. With the mood they’re in, I’m not sure I want them go—oh.” She stops as soon as she gets the door open, because Pawel is right there, his scraggly beard even thicker after the few days away, his eyes rimmed with dark circles.

“Emily?” John asks.

“Dad.” Pawel takes a step forward, stumbling on the threshold.

Emily drops the phone to reach for him, catching him when he sags into her arms, leaning heavily against her. She can’t move like this, carrying his weight, but she can hold him here, waiting for him to regain his stability.

John’s voice is distant, muffled and indistinct with the phone face down on the floor.

“I’m okay,” Pawel murmurs, but when he stands he wavers on his feet.

“No, you’re not,” Emily mutters back. She gets an arm around him, wedging herself under his shoulder. “John,” she calls out, raising her voice for the phone on the floor. “Let me get Pawel onto the couch, then I’ll grab the phone again.”

It takes a moment to do that, leaving Pawel slumped in the middle of the couch, his head tipped back, before she goes to slam the front door and retrieve the phone. She’s surprised Conor hasn’t made an appearance by the time she joins Pawel on the couch, but then, the music from the game seems to have gotten louder. It’s a contrast to Pawel’s low, ragged breath, offering a dissonant counterpoint with the distant sound of cheerful rolling tunes speckled with scattered beeps.

“Well?” John asks.

Pawel groans. “Dad, there are times when I swear you have some kind of prescience. What are the chances that you’d be on the phone when I got here?”

“Pretty high, since you’ve been gone for three days with no word,” John says dryly. “It’s Wednesday, son. I wanted to check in and see if Emily needed anything, since you left Conor there on Sunday.”

“We’ve been fine,” Emily assures him. There’s a shimmer in the air by the stairs, and the volume of the game system has dropped again slightly, but still no sign of the boys themselves. “The boys claimed they were doing their homework so they could go to the park, but either they’ve finished, or they’ve decided not to worry about the park to see a friend and a dog.” She raises her voice slightly. “Because no dogs or playtime until homework is done.”

The volume cuts abruptly. Pawel snorts.

“Do you remember the house on High Road?” John asks. The sudden shift in subject makes no sense to Emily, but Pawel leans forward, focused on the phone.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “We lived there until I was what… ten? We moved the year before Mom died.”

“You loved that house,” John says quietly. “It had a huge back yard, and there wasn’t a fence, but it had a high hemlock hedge across the back, and pine trees down the sides. They were hollow enough that you could fit under the trees, and between the hemlocks in the hedge. Your mother was a small enough woman that she fit, too. You’d go hunting fairies together in the backyard.”

Pawel reaches down, undoes the laces on his shoes and pushes them off. When he sits back, he sags into the cushions.

Emily mimes drinking, and he shakes his head, gestures at the phone where John is still talking.

“Your mom used to say the house was haunted,” John says. “Sylvia was—she was a creative woman, your mom. Taught you to believe in magic.”

“Turned out she was right,” Pawel points out.

John huffs. “Yes, she was. Been thinking, and I figure maybe she was right about the house being haunted, too. We moved because she couldn’t be in that house any more. She said the girl who slept in your room was so sad, she cried all night and kept her awake. I thought—well, I figured it’d be better for her to move, then. She talked about Leanne like she was real. I remember her saying that Leanne would never hurt you, but that she might hurt someone else, if she was trying to protect you.”

Pawel’s brow furrows. “Dad. Leanne was my imaginary friend when I was a kid.”

“I know, son. I know. And when your mom was diagnosed not long after we moved, well, I just figured that her getting confused was part of it.” John exhales, a low, long sound. “Thinking back on it, though, with everything you’ve told me, I have to wonder if Leanne was just as real as you. And if Sylvia saw more in her than even you did. I wonder sometimes if Sylvia knew more, maybe even instinctively, and if she would’ve been better with all this magic than I am.”

There’s a small pause, and John coughs. “Anyway. I have a point in this. Sometimes it’s hard to tell when you’ve gotten in too deep, son. Back then I thought that maybe your mom imagined things because she was sick. These days, I’m starting to wonder if she got sick because she saw things, and they ate her up from the inside.”

A thin sliver of cold crawls up Emily’s spine. She reaches out, one hand on Pawel’s arm, and feels the shudder that runs through him as well.

“I’m—” Pawel cuts off when Emily squeezes his arm hard. He glances at the shimmer in the air by the stairs, then back to her. “I’m going be fine, Dad,” he says firmly. “I’m taking care of myself, and I know what I’m doing.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re lying about that last bit,” John mutters dryly. “You’re still figuring this all out, aren’t you.” The words are flat, not a question at all.

He’s definitely lying. Emily’s known Pawel a long time, and she knows the face he makes when he’s struggling to hold back the truth. She also suspects he hasn’t bathed in days, and his eyes are sunken like he needs gallons of water to rehydrate.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, John,” she says.

“You going to tell us what sent you off on a hunt for information this time, son?” John asks.

The tension slips from Pawel’s body when John doesn’t keep pushing at the subject of his health. “A substantiated rumor,” he says quietly, glancing toward the stairs. “But I couldn’t get much more than that. I suspect that I may need to go to the source, which I think is somewhere in Eastern Europe. I need more detail than that, so I figured I’d come home for more research first.”

John coughs encouragingly, and Emily gestures. Pawel leans forward, elbows on his knees, head bowed.

“I found a reference to a ritual that was supposedly performed decades ago—long before the Emergence—in order to banish Deathstalkers from the world,” Pawel says quietly. “I was able to determine that the Mages that had performed the ritual were from a group living northeast of San Antonio. The families were primarily descended from people who had—” He cuts off when John coughs again. “Yes, Dad?”

“Without the history lecture,” John says carefully. “We’re not students sitting in a lecture hall.”

“There were Mages who’d been plagued by a rash of Deathstalkers something like thirty or forty years ago, and they developed a ritual based on texts from their ancestors. It was supposed to banish Deathstalkers. I think something may have gone differently than they expected,” Pawel says dryly. “But without access to those original texts, which this community no longer has, I can’t figure out exactly what they intended to do. It’s possible that they accomplished exactly what they intended, but current problems we’re having are an unforeseen side-effect. Also, this group was very careful about separating discussions of Deathstalkers, Shadowwalkers, and Soulstealers, which is something I think Carolyn will be interested in for her thesis.”

“What does this mean in the context of what you’ve been overworking yourself for?” John asks. “And when will you be able to take a break? Come visit. Isn’t the school on break soon?”

“Next week, but I can’t leave right now.”

“You need a holiday.”

“I need to fix this, Dad.” Pawel’s voice rises to a shout. The shimmer by the stairs fades, and the door to Alan’s room slams open.

“Dad!” Conor races down the stairs, tackling Pawel on the couch. He climbs into his lap, arms around him, curls in close. Alan follows more slowly, but he echoes Conor’s body language, settling himself in Emily’s lap as if he’s still a toddler, his head resting on her shoulder.

“Conor.” Pawel exhales his name.

“Think about it,” John says darkly. “I can see that I can’t convince you right now, but you need to stop before you run into a wall. You have a child to take care of, and if you can’t make him your priority—”

Pawel makes a strangled noise as Conor wraps his arms around his neck and burrows in close. “I know, Dad,” he manages to say, as he pats Conor on the back. “I haven’t lost sight of my parental duties. Believe me, I am absolutely aware of how many people, Conor included, are counting on me for guidance.”

“Conor.” John raises his voice.

Conor loosens his grip on Pawel, slides off his lap to sit next to him. “Yeah, Dziadziu?”

“If you are at all worried about your father, at any time, you call Emily first, and me next,” John says firmly. “Pawel, if you’re going to act like a child, then I’m going to treat you like one.”

“Jesus, Dad, I’m not acting like—”

“If you can’t take care of yourself, someone has to.” John speaks over him, and Emily sits back, wincing as Alan tightens his hold on her.

Silence, for long enough that Conor swallows audibly before speaking. “Yes, Dziadziu,” he says soberly. “If Dad starts chasing Shadows or stops shaving again, or gets all grey and exhausted, I’ll call you.”

“How many of those things has he already done?”

“All of them.”

“Conor. Stop.” Pawel closes his eyes, sinks back. “It’s not that bad, Dad.”

“We’ll all take care of him,” Emily says. “I know I’m in over my head with this, and I know Pawel feels like he has a responsibility to his students. John, you’d understand if you met them. From what I’ve heard, some of them make it look like Pawel’s the adult who considers each move before leaping.”

Conor snickers.

“When you were a child, your mother and I used to say that someday you’d have a child just like yourself to raise,” John murmurs. “I didn’t mean for you to find a whole campus of them. And Pawel, if you think they’re just children, then so are you. You’re not all that much older than them. Remember, you can’t save them all. And you can’t live their lives for them. If they are so damned determined to leap off a bridge without checking for sharks in the water, they need to learn their lessons.”

Pawel blinks his eyes open, his jaw set. “You’re the one who taught me the importance of every kid like me having a safety net, Dad. Or someone to grab their shirt and haul them back from the edge.”

It resonates with Emily, that every child needs a safety net. She might be older than Pawel, but she’s not all that far out from her rebellious teenage years. “My folks had the attitude that they’d let me leap without looking, but they’d be there to pick up the pieces if everything fell apart,” she says quietly. “Pawel, we’re here to help you pick up the pieces, and you’ll be there if those kids need you. But you really do need to prioritize yourself first. Give yourself some time to recover over break, then meet up with them when they’re all back. You’ll be rested, they’ll have some time to think, and maybe you can come up with a sane plan then.”

“And if he doesn’t, you’ll tell me,” John says.

“Yes, I will,” Conor offers.

“Suppose that’ll have to do.”

“Message received and heard, Dad,” Pawel says. He scrubs a hand through his hair, ending up with it at the base of his head, holding on like he’s trying to keep himself still. “I think you’re right. A little time to rest and relax and process is what we all need.”

“Conor, I’m trusting you to keep him to his word,” John says, and Conor shouts his agreement.

Pawel picks up the phone after that, walking into the kitchen with it while the boys head back upstairs. Emily doesn’t try to overhear the conversation, simply waits until she hears the soft thunk of Pawel setting the phone down. When he returns, he has two bottles of beer, and Emily takes one so Pawel won’t be drinking alone.

They clink the necks of the bottles together, and each take a long gulp.

“A week and a half of rest before you go back to saving the world?” Emily asks. When Pawel gives her a guilty look, she sets her bottle down so she can clasp his hand instead, squeezing tightly for a moment. “I’ve known you a while now, and I don’t see you letting this go. Just… let us help you. Me and Eric, and whoever else you need. If you and Conor need to go up to that place in Vermont, and you want me and Alan to go with you, just let me know. We can make it work. You’re our friend, Pawel, but you’re as good as family.”

Pawel squeezes his eyes shut, grips her hand tightly in return. “Okay,” he says without looking at her. “When the time comes to try to save the world again, I’ll make sure you know what I’m doing.”

“That’s not what I said.” Emily gives him a dark look, but she knows to take what she can get. There’s nothing Emily can do to change Pawel’s mind. All she can do is support him and Conor the best she can, and pick up the pieces when it’s over if it’s needed. “I’ll be there for you,” she says quietly.

He squeezes her fingers. “Thanks,” he says.

Emily gets the feeling it’s a one day at a time kind of situation. She’s just glad that the next bad day is more than a week out. She’s pretty sure Pawel’s going to need all the rest he can get before then.

[joyofcrime-elinorhigh]

Teen Titans Go! REVIEW: (Part 2)

 Hello everybody, my name is JoyofCrimeArt and welcome to part two of my Teen Titans Go! retrospective! Or should I say my Teen Titans.....................................................................................................................No....retrospective.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzKJ4HX4Fuk

Get it? because the show isn't that good! Okay, remember to click that bell icon and turn on notifications to-  So in case your just joining in, this is part two of my Teen Titans Go! retrospective/review. If you haven't seen part one than I highly recommend that you check it out before going forward. To sum up the point I made in my last part...I didn't like this show that much.  WHAT?! A CARTOON CRITIC ONLINE WHO DOESN'T LIKE TEEN TITANS GO?! WHAT A NEW AN UNIQUE TAKE-  But for THIS part we are mostly going to step away from the show itself, and focus on the more meta aspect of the show. So really this part isn't even a review of Teen Titans Go! and more of "A review of elements that are tangentially related to Teen Titans Go! and the conversation around it." But since that title won't fit in the Deviantart title box and it's not "clickbait-y" enough, we're going with this instead.  So I just want to re-emphasize that, for the most part, none of the things I clique here are actually the fault of the shows crew or creators or anything. But I think it's still important to discuss these points because, as I stated last time, I think the conversation around the show is far more interesting than the show itself. So let's dive in.  We'll start with the elephant in the room. Let's talk about the shows handling of critics. This is one of the most notorious elements of the series. Now, I'm just going to say this...I kinda get where the creators are coming from. For real. While there are MANY legit reasons to dislike the show, (Around 4,000 words worth according to my last review alone.) However, out the gate, Teen Titans Go! got hate from ALL cylinders. Young Justice fans bitter about there show being "replaced." Old school Teen Titans fan upset this wasn't season six. People who just wanted action shows. And I'm not going to be high and mighty, as I said last time, I was one of these people. (However, I never made long curse filled rants on Youtube or called for the creators to be shot or anything crazy like that.)  Some people say that reboots are "lazy and easy" because you get a built in audience with zero effort. But I believe the total opposite. Making a reboot sounds like a nightmare. People are much more unforgiving when it's an i.p they love and often times will hate you for the littlest things and won't give you a chance. Just look up how many Powerpuff Girl 2016 rants there were BEFORE any footage of the show was even released. People who are in these positions have it rough, and deserve more appreciation. I can't imagine the amount of hate the two show runners must get on a daily basis, which is probably why they don't seem to have social media accounts.    HOWEVER this is where we get into what I think is one of the biggest problems in society today, and that's strawmaning. And I feel like I shouldn't have to say this, but here I go. And this can apply for anything. JUST BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE WITH AN OPINION ARE ASSHOLES DOESN'T MEAN THAT EVERYBODY WITH SAID OPINION ARE ASSHOLES!  I'm not going to act like there aren't people out there who take Teen Titans Go! WAY to frickin' seriously. That's just factually wrong. But not EVERYONE who has issues with the show are loud obnoxious neck beards who are mad that there "childhood was ruined." And that's how the show and some of the more hostile defenders of the show try to paint "all the haters." Some people just have legit criticisms that they want to get out into the world. When most people write a review of Teen Titans Go!, I don't think there doing so expecting the creators to see it and change the show for them. (I know some do, but again, don't mix the rude jerks in with the rest of us.) They're doing it because they feel passionately, and want to share there opinions with others. Or because they see wasted potential. There's a difference between criticism and hating.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4Ai4G6ccfA

 And the thing is...and this is something that I think I'm in the minority opinion on, but I don't think you HAVE to listen to every piece of criticism you get. I've noticed this trend as of late, where people expect that if they criticize something, the author or creator is obligated to change it. And if they don't then there just "not taking the criticism." But that's not how it works though.  For example, if someone where to tell me "You're reviews are too long." I would definitely take that into consideration, and I would appreciate the input. However, I like overly long analytical reviews, and that's what I'm going to keep doing because that's the type of reviews I wanna make. I might try to shorten them a LITTLE bit, but I would never just start writing few hundred word reviews, cause that's not the art I wanna create.   In the same vain, if Teen Titans Go! doesn't wanna except any of there criticism, that's fine. If the show wants to just go about doing it's own thing, more power to it. But when it does these criticism tackling episodes it's breaking the first rule of the internet. Never let people know when something bothers you. And yeah, I think if a TV show goes out of it's way to tell the critics "you suck" than the critics have the right to say it back. And I know you could say that the show has the right because they started that. But I don't know, there's just some part of me that believes that as the content creator, you have a responsibility to be the bigger person. If that makes sense?  This show basically is "Dab On The Haters: The Animated Series." Really, all the criticism tackling episodes can be summed up like this.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rnd6WLi3TWk

 And the thing is, Teen Titans Go! really doesn't need to defend itself so hard. Because the show is a huge hit! It's clearly super popular with a large group of kids and adults alike. Why be so fixated on pleasing the people who you know your not going to please, when you can focus on the people who love you just the way you are? You don't see shows like Powerpuff Girls or Ben 10 reboots attacking the "haters" like this, and those shows don't even have the added advantage of being that popular.  As it stands, Teen Titans Go! is a show that reeks of insecurity. And as much as I shit on the show last time, it shouldn't be. Clearly the show is doing something right if it lasted this long. Teen Titans Go! the show that taught me how NOT to handle criticism. And honestly, I thank the show for this. I'm a sensitive guy, and I can be very harsh on myself. Without Teen Titans Go! acting as an example of what NOT to do, I could see myself becoming that kinda guy, who mask his insecurities with a faux ego.

Hey...did you see the way I just casually used the word "faux." Oh, I'm great and anyone who think otherwise is dumb...  However, I will give Teen Titans Go! this. I do think that when the humor goes "meta" it's when the shows comedy is at it's best. Because the people behind this show clearly know what this show is. They know it's reputation and it's status among other works of superhero fiction. Plus, as I said, the conversation around the show is far more interesting than the show itself. So when the show tacking these more interesting aspects the episodes tend to be more interesting as well. It's rare to find a show as self-aware of it's own status, and they take advantage of every opportunity that this presents.  I just wish it could do so without insulting me is all.  But do I even have the right to be criticizing this show though? I mean it's for kids, and kids clearly like it. Who right do I, a fully grown adult, have to stop kids from enjoying what they like. Why do I have to stand here and push my radical pro-Steven Universe agenda?!  That has been an argument I have been seeing a lot lately. And honestly, there are some aspects I actually do agree with. If you are reviewing a show with the hope of convincing someone to hate something that they previously liked, just because you hate the show, than in my personal opinion you are reviewing the show for the wrong reason. If you like Teen Titans Go! and somehow made it this far in the review, I want to be clear, you have the right to like whatever you want to like. Whenever I do a negative review of something, it's never with the intent of trying to stop someone from enjoying something they like. I just want to express why I don't like it.    As for the kid show argument, in some instances I agree with that argument too. Kids and adults are different. They have different taste and different things that they relate to. And shows are, from a business standpoint, targeted at a specific age demographics. I don't know why it's okay to call a show an "adult cartoon." but if you call a show a "kids show" it's deemed as an insult to the medium. Why is it wrong to say that I enjoy things aimed at kids? But getting back to the point, adults and kids look for different things in a show. Like, a kid obviously wouldn't be able to relate to the theme's presented in Bojack Horseman, and an adult would likely be board to tears by something like Peppa Pig.  However, the difference here is that Teen Titans Go! airs on Cartoon Network. And thus, it should be held to the same standard as other Cartoon Network shows are held to, since all CN shows are pretty much aimed at the same general age range. Not only that, but the show is rated TV-PG! i.e.) The same rating as Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Regular Show, and Over the Garden Wall. Technically speaking, kids aren't even suppose to watch this show without an adult. So I think it's fair to say that this show SHOULD be made with kids and adults in mind.  If this show was truly intended only for kids, and adults shouldn't watch it, than why are there so many 80's references and scenes that feel very...um....

Totally Spies...If you know what I mean.  Basically, my point here is that it is, in my opinion, completely reasonable to cirque this show. And it's weird because the whole "It's for kids" and "Don't like, don't watch." arguments are usually seen as a joke argument. (even though I personally feel like both arguments do apply in certain situations.) But with this show, I see people using these arguments a lot. And to each there own, I'm not going to stand her and say your argument is "invalid." But I think it is odd that this show seems to be the only show where these arguments is deemed "acceptable."  Also, if you watch Cartoon Networks live feed on a regular basis, it's hard to follow the "Don't like, don't watch." rule because the show is on so frickin' much!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyxX3ix2jp8

What makes this ad worse is how much this kid looks like Logan Paul...  Cartoon Network spams this show. And while I'm sure that this show would still very much be hated regardless of the scheduling, I think the scheduling is a major factor in how this show manged to stay a relevant topic of conversation in the cartoon community for over five years at this point. Humans, in case you haven't realized this by now, are very stubborn and spiteful creature by nature. If you shove something down someone's throat, or in this case tell that that it's there new favorite show, there bound to have an adverse reaction. Regardless of the actually quality of the product. Also, the show wasn't even "new" when that ad campaign started!  However, I do want to point out that it isn't Teen Titans Go's! fault that it's being spammed so much. It's Cartoon Networks scheduling departments. Traditional television is dying, and channels need to air what gives them ratings. Cartoon Network has always been in last place rating wise, when compared to there rivals Nickelodeon and Disney. They need to air what gives them ratings. And Teen Titans Go! is that. I get it.  However, and keep in mind I'm not an expert on any of this and have no idea what I'm really talking about, I feel like eventually this will come back to bite them. EVENTUALLY Teen Titans Go! is going to end. Even if it's after we're all long dead and buried, the show will die. It's already been running for five years, which is an eternity in kid cartoon time. And when this show does end, CN is going to need something else to keep people coming back. Because as of now, this show and Gumball (which is ending soon.) are the channels only main draws with the ratings. CN, as of it stands now, needs this show. And when this show does end, they'll need some kind of back up series if they hope to survive in this modern, cord cutting climate. This cash cow can't be milked forever.  R-right? P-Please God, tell me it can't last forever!

...Again with the Totally Spies.  But while I'm on the topic of Teen Titans Go! success, I have to ask the question of why? Why do kids gravitate more towards this show, in particular? Because as I stated in the last part, the idea taking an establish i.p and making a more comedic slice of life reboot may have been fresh back in 2013, but now of days we are over saturated with shows just like that. Show's like Powerpuff Girls 2016, Ben 10, and to a lesser extent Justice League Action and Be Cool Scooby-Doo are all more comedic versions of there respected brands, but none of those shows are nearly as successful. (And this isn't me saying those shows are bad because they follow TTG's mold. It's all about execution and I'm trying to make a point.) What does Teen Titans Go! have that these other shows don't?  The way I see it, the reason why Teen Titans Go! is popular while those other "Teen Titans Go-esq shows" (Even the really good ones like Justice League Action.) aren't has to do with intent and execution. Those other shows only chose to become more comedic because it was deemed "more marketable." And while I'm sure that was a factor in why Teen Titans Go! was pitched as a comedy, I feel the difference is how the shows chose to treat itself. Those other shows are made to be safe and marketable. They want fans new and old to like the show, so people will be more likely to buy the merch, which in turn will fund more seasons. Teen Titans Go! on the other hand, doesn't care about playing it "safe." It'll do whatever crazy and messed up things it wants to. The show revels in it's inaccuracy to the original.  A marketing team and a bunch of executives think Teen Titans Go! is successful because it's a comedy based on a beloved brand. But the reason I think it's popular is because it doesn't give a fu*k! To people who like this show, that's why they like it. And that's why the show is so interesting to talk about.  Also there a lot of elements in Teen Titans Go! appeals to kids. It's full wish fulfillment. Who doesn't want all the power and none of the responsibility. Who doesn't want to not have to worry about school or work, and just sit on a couch eating food all day. The show is loud, crazy, and colorful. It appeals to kids, and some adults, on a base level. It appeals to our more lazy and selfish aspects of our personalities that we all have, but chose to keep buried inside out of fear of social consequence. And while all that may sound harsh, I really don't mean that as an insult. There's nothing wrong with a show appealing to those aspects of our subconscious, because it can allow us to express those feelings without acting upon them. It's the same reason why people like characters like Bender from Futurama, or Rick from Rick and Morty. Teen Titans Go! is that for kids, and there's nothing wrong with that. Especially in a time where so many other kids shows are so nice and non-cynical. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  So, to wrap everything up, Teen Titans Go! might just be one of the most fascinating and influential shows of the 2010's? But do I recommend it? Well, despite EVERYTHING I ranted about in part one, from the lackluster comedy, horrendous writing, lazy reusing of voice acting and animation, and the lack of basic understanding when it comes to telling a story...I surprisingly actually do highly recommend it. 

 Listen, just hear me out here. While this show in all technical aspects is a frickin' train wreck. But sometimes, you just want to watch a train wreck unfold. It's fascinating to see just what this show is going to do next. What crazy, half backed decision it'll do. And honestly, it's hard not to admire how much the show just goes for it, even if "it" isn't something that you should go for. The show has this element of "watch-ability" even if I know the show itself isn't technically "good." It's a show worth watching, if for no other reason than to have an opinion on it. I think it's pretty obvious who will love this show, who will hate this show, and who will ironically love it. Maybe it's just Stockholm syndrome, but I will be genuinely sad when this show does come to an end.  But I want to end on this note. If you hate this show with a fire-y passion, feel free to do so. You have the right to like or not like whatever you want. Don't be afraid of giving your opinion just because your worried that people will think that your a "hater" or that it's "cringy to still be talking about Teen Titans Go! in 2018." Value your thoughts and share them with the masses. Just don't be a jerk about it. Don't assume that "everyone who likes Teen Titans Go! are mindless sheeple." or complain that this show "ruined your childhood." Because forcing your opinion down other peoples throats will get you nowhere. And remember that no show last forever. In ten years from now this show will most likely be forgotten about. Think about how many people HATED Johnny Test just a few years ago, and complained about how much CN spammed that show. When was the last time anyone talked about that show? Meanwhile the original Teen Titans, a show that originally aired fifteen years ago, is still getting prime time reruns on Cartoon Network as recently as early 2018. And honestly, without Teen Titans Go!, there's a good chance that the interest in the original Teen Titans wouldn't have risen to the point where it is today. So you should thank TTG for that.  And to the people who defend Teen Titans Go!, I get it. It can be rough loving something when EVERYBODY online hates it. I went threw a similar thing when the Powerpuff Girls reboot came out. It sucks feeling like you're in the minority opinion, but remember that just because something is hated online, that doesn't translate to actually results. There's a reason this show is on it's fifth seasons and got a theatrical film. And if you love this show, if it really is your new favorite show, enjoy that fact that a show you love is as popular and influential as it is. But don't be a jerk about your opinion either. Don't belittle people for feeling passionately about a series and remember that not EVERY person who hates the show isn't some kinda "hater." Never assume that the worse people in a group represents the whole group. And never let other people force you to hate something you love. You're taste make you the individual you are, and never forget that.  I want to end this review with a line from Teen Titans Go! A line that I believe the show sadly forgot about, but is a message that I think is very important. Especially given the current climate of the cartoon community.

 This applies to all sides.  Hopefully this review was able to add something new to the table.  What do you think of Teen Titans Go? Leave any thoughts you may have in the comments down bellow. I love love to hear all opinions from both sides of the aisle, and start some conversations. Maybe help people gain some new perspectives. Also what did you think of the format of this review? Would you like more deep dive retrospects in the future? Please fav, follow, and comment if you liked this review and have a great day.

https://www.deviantart.com/joyofcrimeart/journal/Teen-Titans-Go-REVIEW-Part-2-755898579 DA Link

[7cypher]

Tied Together | 01

The last thing you needed when you had a demanding daughter and job was a divorce made difficult by your husband. Luckily for you, Min Yoongi—Seoul’s top divorce lawyer—stepped in to save the day. Well, more or less.

▸ PAIRING: Min Yoongi x Reader

▸ RATING & GENRE: PG-15 ; Angst, Fluff, Divorce Lawyer AU, Marriage AU

▸ WORD COUNT: 9,744 words

▸ A/N: Planned this fic a long time ago but it’s finally done alkwejrkwlejr second part where all the Real Action happens will be out soon!! I hope you like this :’) ALSO huge disclaimer I know nothing about law so I apologize for any inaccuracies!

Part One | Part Two

Divorces were rarely ever a clean slate. You’ve learned that through attending the trials and tribunals of family members, seen how much of a struggle and how costly everything was that plenty of the people you knew chose to stay in a miserable standstill with their partners.

For a little while, you figured that if you had the right resources and helping hands you would be able to sign a few documents and free yourself from all restraints, from the supposedly sacred bond that you and your once-loved one held together.

But things were never so black and white — not when he would never be happy unless you went through enough inconveniences to please him.

When you had married Sungjae years ago, it seemed as if things were finally falling into place. Sungjae was meant to be your happily ever after, your finalized end game to give you that everlasting affection. He had been everything you ever wanted — handsome, intelligent, charming. On top of his academics and extracurriculars that he excelled in, he had effortlessly swept you off your feet.

When the two of you finally got together in college, the label power couple had instantly been stuck on your backs and added weight upon your shoulders. You never thought of it that way before though. Both your competitiveness had driven you two forward, to the success you two so desperately craved. Graduating with honors and having scored a high-paying job in Seoul, you had hoped that you had your future set in stone. Add his proposal in to the mix and you were well on your way to the ideal life you had imagined for yourself ever since your childish mind conjured up a good fantasy of what your existence was supposed to be.

This was supposed to be the dream of all dreamers, a materialization of your imagination constructed from capitalized Disney movies and overdramatic television shows. You wanted what everyone else wanted.

Happiness.

It was a little cheesy to say aloud, but your successes had never been equated to your happiness. Seeing the despair that your family had been through, those who had tasted the highest forms of victory on their tongues, was clear enough evidence that materialistic possessions never lasted very long. Lifetime desolation buried in empty bottles of liquor and ringing screams across cold households seemed to be all that was left. Bars were raised high for people who had achieved what they had, the public’s eyes trained to catch their minutest mistakes to send their worlds crumbling down.

Perhaps you should’ve seen your own downfall coming too. Well, for your marriage at least. While your career skyrocketed and placed you on the position of a parter in your corporation, the love you shared with Sungjae had diminished and scattered like ashes, leaving only anger and impatience in its wake. An early marriage had been a warning from your friends, a warning you chose to ignore. The two of you had been too young, too ambitious. While at the time it had been a logical idea, what with Sungjae and you having been together for six years, held steady jobs, it was clear that that rationalization was not enough.

Then Sungjae lost everything. Economic instability had more than a handful of people, both low-ranking employees and higher-ups, scrambling to maintain their positions, to avoid adding onto the ever-growing unemployment line. It was a shameful place to be for those who had always had silver spoons in their mouths, just like Sungjae.

One thing led to another and, before you knew it, Sungjae had reached to alcohol to cope. The man who had once been so alive, so alight with joy and devotion, fell from his throne.

A divorce had never been on your agenda, not even through all the troublesome nights dealing with his intoxication, nor through the red and pink stains on the collars of his shirts. There were too many attachments, too many memories you clung onto. There was also that last string of hope you held onto, the one that gullibly believed that he would turn around and get his life back on track.

The final straw had been the one night Sungjae unsurprisingly returned with one too many drinks in his system, screaming about the lack of whiskey in the cabinet. You’ve dealt with it before, have a million times. But remember what you said about happiness?

You had found that in your daughter. If there was any saving grace to salvage your marriage and faith, it would be her.

However, Sungjae had jeopardized all that when he had resorted to violence, flinging ceramic plates against walls, shattering its pieces down the walls that fell too close to her. Your daughter had wept and ran with you in tow to console her.

Divorce papers were filed the following day.

Of course, his fierce character never faded. Thinking that Sungjae would go quietly had been an amateur’s mistake. He needed to have the last word each and every time. You should’ve known better than to let him slip through your fingers with flimsy documents prepared overnight. He began to claim too many things, collateral and investments written in contract in both your names, objects he didn’t even care for. But he would be damned if he went down without dragging you with him. So he pushed and pulled, demanded more than he actually wanted to lengthen the process. It wasn’t as if you could just surrender everything to him, you still had your dignity to hold onto. When even your lawyer began to grow frustrated with Sungjae’s antics, you had to call your final recourse.

“You’re getting a divorce?” Namjoon’s voice rang through the speaker and you quickly pulled away the receiver with a wince. His bewilderment was justified considering how close the three of you had been throughout your years of education, admittedly more to you than Sungjae.

After his undergrad years, Namjoon had traded in his custom frat varsities and stroll team (but not his brotherhood obviously, “Beta Tau for life!” he would say) for crisp suits in the courtroom, dick jokes dumped for legal jargon. The two of you had stayed in contact, catching up over coffee from time to time to complain over your respective occupational hazards, which included balding at a young age with how much stress you two put up with.

“Yeah,” you sighed, pressing your fingers to your temple, praying the goddamn headache that was your husband would magically disappear. The papers your first lawyer had prepared sat futilely in front of you, taunting you. After Sungjae had figuratively ripped his plan to shreds, your lawyer nearly resigned with the shit Sungjae put him through. “Long story short, Sungjae is an insufferable asshole I want to be rid of. I need your help.”

“I would,” he started, hesitance in his voice, “but divorce isn’t exactly my forte.”

“Do you know anyone who can help?” you pleaded, “it’ll really save my ass. I just want this to be over and done with, but my lawyer isn’t exactly an expert on handling problematic relationships.”

“Might I suggest a couples’ counselor?”

You drawled, “You’re funny.”

Namjoon chuckled, voice crackling with the static, “There is someone I know that might be able to help. He’s a bit of a hard ass but he’s a good guy, even better at his job. I went to law school with him so hopefully I can call in a favor.”

The relief that flooded your entire body was almost immediate. You sighed, “That’ll be fantastic. I’m really sorry that this is the first thing I’m hitting you up about. It’s a pretty bad way to reconnect when we haven’t spoken in nearly two months.”

“Don’t sweat it, sweetheart,” he scoffed, “we’re friends. I’ve got your back. I always knew Sungjae was a douchebag.” You snorted at that because Namjoon had been one of many that rooted heavily for your relationship, always shoving you in Sungjae’s direction until you tied the knot. “Anyhow, I will give him a ring. Only problem is that he’s a masochist and would usually turn down easy cases. Yours is a cinch for him.”

“Honestly, I’ll take anyone at this point.”

Namjoon laughed again, the familiar sound putting your heart at ease. At least one of you were calm about this entire debacle. “Babe, I’m giving you the best divorce lawyer in Seoul, maybe all of Korea if he had a more refined public persona. He’ll make sure you get everything you want and more.”

“You’re amazing and I love you,” you grinned, “I owe you a drink, my friend.”

“Make that two and a lunch date,” he corrected teasingly, “I’ve got an appointment in a few minutes so I have to run. I’ll call him and fax you his details. In addition to that, I will personally ensure that he agrees to see you.”

This other lawyer already sounded like a fantastic time (note the sarcasm). “How are you such an angel?” Your secretary entered and handed over the checks to sign for the day. You quickly scribbled on them while keeping your phone pressed to your ear before handing them back to her. “Thank you so much again,” you breathed, “we definitely have to meet soon.”

“You got it. Stay solid, babe.”

Namjoon was a godsend. Now, all you had to do was wait for this supposedly qualified lawyer and hope to God that Sungjae wouldn’t fuck up anything else in the process.

Yoongi wanted to cry and die simultaneously. His head was pounding with the force of a million jackhammers as he clutched his phone in his hand. He growled at the man on the other side of the call, “If he can’t pull his shit together, I can’t get him what he needs. If he can’t work with me, then he shouldn’t have called me. Tell him I won’t finish the case — hell, I’ll make sure his wife gets everything he wanted in his papers — if he doesn’t stop harassing her through every possible social media platform. What is he, sixteen?”

He finally dropped the device back into the receiver, mumbling something about fucking millenials before he returned his attention to his computer screen. His emails were piling up and his secretary certainly wasn’t doing things fast enough to filter through the unnecessary spam that kept adding onto the growing list. So many requests, so many teary-eyed desperate pleas Yoongi wished he could fling out the window.

Sometimes, he wondered why people even got married if they were going to waste more money on their divorce than their wedding. His service was costly, he acknowledged that years ago when he priced his practice, but it was a worthwhile investment.

“Sir,” his secretary knocked, peeking his head in. Christ, what was it now? “Mr. Kim is here to see you.”

Guests? Without an appointment? People really did have a death wish, including his secretary. “What did I say about not booking meeting times, Heechul?”

Heechul seemed to falter for a second, fear igniting in his eyes. “I—um, the man insisted, I couldn’t—”

“Do you humor the insistence of every guest, Heechul?”

His patience was wearing thin with the deficiency of a good night’s sleep over the past few… months. All he wanted to do was swallow a few pills and knock the fuck out, enjoy one night of blissful ignorance towards all the couples drowning his email with the need to terminate whatever was left of their holy matrimony.

“Just this one.” Another voice interrupted, this time a familiar face appearing before him. Namjoon popped into the room, smiling unapologetically. Heechul quickly scampered out of the room in the window of opportunity. Chuckling, the younger man walked towards Yoongi’s desk. His eyes scanned over the amount of work that was visible on the table. “You should be nicer to him, he could poison your coffee.”

That would be a sweet escape from this death trap. Yoongi sighed, gesturing to the vacant seat across from him. If there was anything he could do without, it would be Namjoon’s criticism of his work ethic. So he wasn’t the best boss in the world, but he paid handsomely for people who offered him quality competence. “What brings you here, Namjoon?”

“You didn’t answer my calls,” Namjoon shrugged, waving his phone in the air.

That reminded him, where was his cellphone? He hadn’t touched it in ages. “I’ve been busy,” he replied simply.

“Too busy to answer a friend’s call?” Namjoon gasped, “how endearing of you.”

Yoongi’s jaw ticked. “What do you want?”

“I have a favor to ask.”

Now that was strange. The two had only advanced their acquaintanceship due to their somewhat similar fields and somewhat overlapping social circles, but Namjoon was always too prideful to ask people for favors. Yoongi was the same, he supposed. Owing others gratitude was never particularly favorable when they came to collect.

“What is it?”

“A friend’s getting divorced, she wants it clean.”

Lord help him. Was Namjoon pulling his leg? Breathe, Yoongi, breathe. “Alright,” he nodded curtly, returning his attention back to his inbox, “I’ll hook you up with someone from the firm. I’ll send the details to you tonight.” Another on his to-do list.

“Can you do it?” Namjoon added into Yoongi’s narrowing tolerance. “I know you’re busy, but I promise this one will be quick. Her husband’s a dick and, with you, she could be guaranteed everything.”

“So why are you asking me specifically? I told you I would get someone else to resolve it.”

“She’s a close friend, Yoongi.” Namjoon’s voice softened. “I don’t want want to leave her in the hands of someone incompetent who do things half-assed.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at him, taking offense in his words. “Are you saying that my firm does things half-assed?”

“No, no,” Namjoon quickly righted, clearing his throat, “I’m saying I trust you more than anyone else. You’re the best divorce lawyer I know. She’s a wonderful person and I really want things to work out well for her.” Don’t we all. “She’s got a daughter too, I’m concerned about that. Cute thing, not even finished with primary school but already so sassy with a sharp tongue. You’d like her.”

“Great,” he mumbled noncommittally.

“Yoongi, please,” the younger pressed again, “I wouldn’t be asking you if I didn’t have utter faith in your skills.”

A flatterer. Namjoon seemed to know just the way to his bloated ego. Yoongi finally huffed, tearing his eyes away from his screen to see Namjoon’s pleading eyes. They were practically screaming for help, a skill he had mastered in college whenever he wanted sympathy. “God, fine,” he grunted, “if it’ll get you to shut up and get out, then fine. I’ll look over her case. Tell her to send in an official request and the documents she has so far so I can go over them.”

“You, my dear comrade, are a lifesaver,” Namjoon beamed, dimples dipping in his cheeks, “thank you so much, Yoongi.”

Yoongi waved him off, “It’s fine. Is that all?”

“Oh,” he paused, “can you drop by her office too? She’s quite busy these days so I’m not sure if she can make the time to come down here—”

The elder’s threatening glare was enough to seal his lips. Yoongi loved his friend, but he was this close to lifting the man himself and kicking him out the door. “We may be close, Namjoon, but this woman is a stranger. If she needs the help, we can correspond through emails. I don’t have time to spare the next two months yet I’m making the time to do this. If she can’t accommodate my time then I can assign her to someone else, which at this point I’m very tempted to do.”

Namjoon pouted, his attempt at acting cute was not boding well with the already exhausted elder. “Should I call Jimin in to convince you?” That question had Yoongi scowling. Jimin was one of his closest friends, bordering on winning the title of his mother, and his puppy dog eyes were admittedly one of Yoongi’s few weaknesses. Jimin was also susceptible to sob stories, especially divorces. He always whined about how Yoongi was working against it instead of for it. The kid was an angel, but if he caught wind of Namjoon himself asking Yoongi for help for a divorce, it might just be his undoing.

“My office. If she has her documents by tonight, I can squeeze her in before my eleven o’clock.”

The other looked simply shameless as he stood up, flashing a dazzling smile he saved for moments of triumph. Obviously, he was all too pleased with himself. “Thank you very much, Yoongi. I owe you one.”

“You owe me ten, better break that checkbook, you’re buying my groceries for the next four years.”

Namjoon snorted, “Yeah, like you even cook. Do you even go home anymore? This place sort of smells.”

“You just asked me for help, you don’t have a right to complain. Now leave, I have work to do.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

On your way home, Namjoon had called to deliver the good news. “He agreed to meet you at his office. Be careful, he bites.”

The forewarning was almost ominous and comical at the same time, you weren’t quite sure how to process that bit of information. You profusely thanked him for his help and promised to send him a bottle of champagne for his office. Parking your car in the driveway, you looked up to find the kitchen light on. A small part of you hoped that wasn’t Sungjae digging through your supplies for more drinks. You sighed and made your way inside, heels clicking on the cemented ground and then on your marble floor.

“Mom!” The squeal reached your ears first before you felt a heaviness around your legs. Your daughter, Mia, had wound her small arms to keep you trapped. “You’re back early today,” she grinned, front teeth missing.

“Yep,” you grinned, ruffling her hair. She scowled but giggled nevertheless, fixing up her hair. “Thought I’d cook dinner for you, little monster.”

Mia let a small groan bubble up her throat as she smoothed her dress and pouted up at you. “Does that mean we’re having pasta again?”

This kid. Such a demanding little thing. “Don’t complain,” you huffed right back, “your mother is doing this out of the kindness of her own heart. Where’s the babysitter?” It was strange. Bora was usually there to greet you when you returned, but it was suspicious that—

“I told her to go home,” Mia shrugged as if it was normal for a ten year old to instruct her babysitter to leave, as if it was normal that her babysitter complied.

“And she listened?” you stared at her incredulously.

“I gave her a little bit of encouragement,” Mia grinned, eyes crinkling innocently. Any other time, you would be happy over how adorable she looked, but this was another story altogether.

You cleared your throat, crouching down to her level, “And where did you get this ‘encouragement’ from?”

“I forgot,” she shrugged.

You squinted, “Mia.”

The little devil pursed her lips together, gaze darting everywhere except for you. “I may or may not have sold one of my Barbies to a classmate.”

“Mia, how did you even—actually,” you took a deep breath, looking up to the heavens for some semblance of assistance from a higher power, “do I want to know?” In return, she offered a toothy grin, confirming that she was on the far end of the innocence spectrum. Sometimes you wondered whether she really was ten when she was already exploiting her classmates for cash with toys.

Choosing to drop the matter for now and making a mental note to reprimand Bora later, you focused on preparing dinner. The two of you settled at the countered once the food was ready, Mia chattering animatedly about her day. It had been quite some time since you’ve had the hours to spare to talk to her. Work kept you away from home too often, too late in the day that when you returned home Mia would be fast asleep. A babysitter was usually enlisted to care for her during those days, other times your parents would arrive to help (and they loved spoiling her rotten). Sungjae? You never even attempted to count on him.

“What’s wrong?” Mia’s voice slipped through the cracks of your thoughts. Her big eyes peered at you curiously as if she already knew.

Guilt seeped into your pores, filling your veins and flooding your entire system with remorse. “Nothing, honey. Why?” You pushed your lips to curve into a smile, hoping to appease the concern dripping in her voice.

“You have wrinkles here,” she pointed to her own forehead, “that’s when you’re stressing out.”

You giggled, flicking her forehead playfully and earning a scowl. “Maybe I’m just getting old.”

She tilted her head from side to side, grinning, “I know you’re not that old. Not old enough for wrinkles anyway.”

Narrowing your eyes playfully at her, you leaned closer. “Are you calling me old?”

Mia opted to stuff her mouth with spaghetti instead. Good answer.

Min & Jung Law Firm was a surprisingly modest infrastructure just twenty minutes away from your own office. You arrived earlier than expected to the sleek glass building, sunlight reflecting rainbows off its window panes. The receptionist led you inside and instructed you to wait in an empty room. A man sitting nearby in front of a door paid you no mind, you were probably one of many in this busy place. You quickly typed out emails on your phone to clients to ensure that everyone was updated, as well as texting your secretary to man the fort in your absence.

The plan for your divorce had been kept on the down low—on the very down low—with the exception of Namjoon. The last thing you wanted was for rumors to release to the press and swaying your business prospects away. The industry was already difficult enough for a woman, throw in a divorce into the equation and you could already picture the labels stuck upon the company as if your romantic endeavors had anything to do with your professional career. You could imagine the headlines: “Divorces! No commitment, no business?” Sighing, you locked your phone when a door creaked open.

There were two voices that carried down the hallway before a man in a suit stepped out. His hair was a shocking shade of orange, almost blinding, but it flattered the man’s features. When the man spotted you to the side and turned to face you, you noticed how incredibly young he looked with the softest attributes and lips thick enough to make you jealous. He must be a great kisser. Blinking curiously at you, he approached you with a tilt of his head, “Are you Yoongi-hyung’s girlfriend?”

Yoongi—wasn’t that the name of your lawyer? You were dragged away from your admiration for the stranger to stare at him in confusion. “Uh, no?”

“Oh,” he deflated, lips turned down. “You’re really pretty and you’re earlier than most of his clients so I figured—anyway, sorry,” he grinned, “didn’t mean to assume, I got a little excited there. Hope you have a good meeting!” Without any further explanation or provision of context, he was jumping into the elevator and disappearing with the smile still on his face.

Before you could contemplate the oddity further, the man sitting by the door was already calling you and shuffling you towards the office. He paused to briefly introduce your presence, “Sir, your 9 AM is here.”

The second you stepped in, all your expectations flew out the window. Namjoon’s description of your lawyer being grumpy and temperamental had painted a somewhat more terrifying image in your mind than the actual man standing before you then. The first thing you noted was how the man looked younger than expected and, when he stood, he was definitely shorter than expected. Nothing like Namjoon’s ridiculous height. Yoongi still towered over you, especially with the stern look in his eyes that seemed as if it was shrinking you. Lawyer eyes, you supposed.

“His name’s Min Yoongi. He’s scary when you meet him for the first time—” No shit, Namjoon, thanks for the heads up “—but he’s a good guy and he’ll take good care of you. Let me know if you need anything else!”

You gulped down Namjoon’s words and shook the man’s outstretched hand. “Good morning, Yoongi-ssi. Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me.” You accepted his offer to sit across from you as he went back to his own leather seat.

“Good morning,” he began, “with Namjoon on my ass about it, I didn’t really have a choice.” There was a bite to his words that startled you somewhat and it seemed to be evident when he quickly cleared his throat to clarify. “My apologies, that was uncalled for. The kid earlier seems to have gotten more to me than expected.” He must be referring to the orange-haired man. “I looked over your files last night,” he turned the conversation smoothly, “and it should be simple. I’ll guarantee that you get everything from the dirt underneath your house to the sky above it.”

There was a hint of an accent in his syllables, very slight, but it made you wonder where he was from. You pressed your lips together before adding, “Ah, about that, I appreciate that you can promise everything to me. But I would like to leave a few assets to him, just a few pieces of collateral that I think he could still benefit from.”

One of his eyebrows raised curiously. “You want to willingly give him some of your shared property?” He looked absolutely puzzled and understandably so.

You licked your lips, shifting in your seat. His gaze dropped to them for a fraction of a second before he caught himself and looked back at you. “He’s my husband,” you said softly, “he was my friend first. I can’t take everything from him.”

There was a twitch to his lips and you weren’t sure whether that was a good sign or not. “I understand your sympathy for him, but I’d like to bear warning to you now that going soft in a divorce is not the best option.”

“Going soft isn’t the same thing as being compassionate,” you retorted, “I’m not going to strip him clean of everything and leave him dry when I know his reasons. That would be rather cold, wouldn’t it?”

Yoongi remained silent for a beat then two. It was clear that he wasn’t a fan of your methods, but it was still your divorce so he couldn’t argue with you on those grounds—not unless it was needed. He simply nodded and jotted down notes on your documents in front of him. Your eyes roamed his office, a clean setting with a couple of bookshelves nestled to the side filled with volumes thick enough to be paperweight, figurines that were curiously colorful rather than elegant pieces. If you conjured up a stereotypical picture of a frigid lawyer’s office, this would be exactly it.

Meanwhile, Yoongi was keeping his mind occupied on both your case and you. You were admittedly younger than he had presumed—one of his youngest so far. And you already had a daughter. You were beautiful and you had momentarily taken his breath away when you first introduced yourself to him. However, you were just another woman, one of many, and another of his clients, one of many.

He might also be ignoring the strange nagging feeling at the back of his mind that might’ve indicated otherwise. A sign that he wasn’t quite used to having about a customer. The toughness that soaked your voice was a far cry from the damsel in distress image he had pinned on you when Namjoon brought you up.

Yoongi liked that—liked his clients tough, liked his women tougher.

Maybe he really was a masochist.

Shaking the useless thoughts out of his mind, he passed a few pieces of paper to you. “Contract. I make sure my clients understand that I will ensure my services until the end, and, should they choose to break the agreement, there would be penalty involved as I have invested my time and expertise into it. The same applies to me if I decide not to finish a case.”

You briefly skimmed over the paragraphs and bullet points before signing. “Done.”

Yoongi wanted to say that you were a bit reckless but kept his lips shut. “Since this is a personal favor, I will offer you one more opportunity to reconsider. You’re positive about this? The divorce?”

You blinked at him, perplexed, “I hardly find this outcome positive, but it is necessary. What do you mean?”

“I know couples tend to have cold feet to a commitment as great as this, especially since it involves their loved ones. I always make sure my clients are certain that this is exactly what they want.”

Were you certain? Memories in a stream of pictures came flowing through your mind. You and Sungjae throughout college. The nights you both spent curled up in bed, toasting glasses of wine, complaining about professors and assignments. Staying up late in the library and his bringing you warm drinks, a soft gesture that always reached into your heart. His kind smile. Then his proposal, the immense diamond and affection he had presented to you. The joy that had engulfed your heart. The wedding. White lace and roses scattered all over the ceremony hall. Family and friends all gathered for the wondrous ceremony.

The feelings you held for him were strong, you knew. But over the years, those feelings had been replaced by too many arguments, too many nights spent crying over him, worrying over what he was doing. His screaming at you that he was going to be fine, that he was going to take care of the family. False promises. His voice bouncing off the walls. Plates smashing on the ground and broken pieces of Johnny Walker bottles across the kitchen floor. Then Mia.

Mia.

She was what your world revolved around. This wasn’t the way you wanted it to end—Sungjae was no longer a man who held your heart, but a man who had shattered it to pieces. You couldn’t have his behavior influencing her future. Not if everything you’ve done thus far had proved fruitless. Not the counseling, not the group therapy, not your own misery.

Strengthening your resolve, you looked up at him with a determined flame in your gaze. The anger might have disappeared from you a long time ago, leaving a numbing sadness and disappointment that never dissipated. The life you had envisioned for the two of you was nothing more than a mirage in this finite period of romance. All you could do at that point was swallow the consequences of your actions.

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

“Alright, it’s set then. I look forward to working with you.”

Believing that Namjoon would keep your divorce a hush hush had obviously been blind faith. You thought that speaking to him about it and then proceeding privately with Yoongi had been a great idea to keep the spread of information low key and eschew complications and distractions while you tied up the last strings of this issue.

Only one problem.

Yoongi was going over the documents in the meeting room or your office, settled across from you. His sudden, unannounced arrival had caused a stir in your workplace. This was due to the fact that you never took in unscheduled meetings, but you did his. He had shown up out of the blue and told you that he couldn’t get in touch with you, this seeming to irritate him more than anything. It was most definitely your fault since you tended to abandon your phone whenever you immersed yourself in your tasks.

His presence had generated a sudden influx of fabricated stories flying across cubicles and passed over telephone calls, reaching all of your employees and inevitably you. Speculations about a new boyfriend or a secret rendezvous bounced off each person, producing a ridiculously painful headache for you. Most of the people who worked for and with you knew how strict you could be when dealing with unorganized assignments, but also knew that you were somewhat of a softie at heart—a fact they took advantage of from time to time. The thought of you having an affair was ultimately scandalous. Even your secretary abandoned the tight camaraderie to hop in on the fun, winking at you and mouthing something along the lines of he’s cute as she closed the door behind the room.

That had been a hectic morning and you could still see some of them peeking over the walls of their boxes to catch a glimpse of the mysterious man in the meeting room. They were going to get an earful later.

Yoongi was discussing your financial documents when you received a notification from Namjoon, prompting you to look at your screen for the text.

Namjoon [ 12:45 PM ]: I’m sorry

What the— your phone blasted a song that had Yoongi glaring at the deafening device as it cut through his speech and train of thought. After working with him for a week, you realized how particular of a man he was and apologized quietly before answering it. “Sorry, my mom,” you mumbled to him only to be greeted by a screech.

“You’re getting a divorce?!”

Fucking Namjoon.

“Mom—”

“You’re getting a divorce and I had to hear it from Namjoon? Your own mother had to hear about your divorce from Kim Namjoon?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the pounding in your head seeming to crescendo with her every word. Parents were going to be the death of you if this divorce wasn’t. Why your mother was even speaking with Namjoon was a curious thing as well, it wasn’t as if they were best buddies who had afternoon tea every once in a while. “Mom, please keep it down, I think your neighbors can hear you.”

Your mother scoffed, “Oh, that girl can go screw herself. I can hear her and her boyfriend every night! It’s ridiculous how loud they get. I’ve had it with their thumping anyway.” Jesus Christ.

“Mom!” you chided. Yoongi perked up at your tone, raising an eyebrow in question. You were as confused about the call as he was. Offering an apologetic look, you grumbled into the phone again, “Look, I’m in a meeting right now so can we talk about—”

“This is your divorce!” she interrupted again.

“And I’m currently talking to my lawyer about it, so please—”

“When were you going to tell me?” she pressed again as if this was more important than your actual divorce, “when you’re eighty and I realize that Sungjae has been gone long enough?”

You sighed, “Don’t be so dramatic, Mother.” Then added quietly under your breath, “I was going to tell you once it was over.”

“I’m your mother.”

“And I’m getting death glares from my lawyer who’s very, very mean,” you argued. Yoongi looked insulted at the accusation, glaring at you, though they weren’t exactly death glares. He clearly wasn’t a fan of the name you had plastered on him. “Anyway, why were you even talking to Namjoon?”

“He was worried that we weren’t dealing well with something we didn’t even know was happening!”

You were going to slaughter Namjoon after this whole issue was settled. “I’ll call you back,” you huffed.

“Let me talk to that lawyer if he has any complaints.”

“Mother, I will call you back.” Before you could hear another round of arguments, the genetic stubbornness preventing her from ending the conversation unless she had won, you quickly hung up and set your phone to the side after putting it on silent. You weren’t going to hear the end of hanging up on her, but that was a matter for another time. “Sorry about that. Namjoon fucked up and told my mother.”

Yoongi looked partly amused and partly bemused. “You didn’t tell your parents?”

You shrugged, “They let me have free reign over my own life and choices, usually supporting me in whatever I decide on. They trust me so I tend to not mention details until whatever it is is done if it’s important, including college and all.”

“This is a divorce.”

“They were cool with Sungjae but never got too attached because they were busy with themselves too. It’s really no big deal.”

Yoongi looked surprised. And you weren’t sure why? Maybe you had come off too sentimental and sympathetic. He probably expected you to be the pampered type, always coddled by your loving parents.

“Should I be offended that you look shocked right now?”

“Not at all,” he coughed, “it’s not a bad thing really. I’m just genuinely surprised. I pictured you more of the tight family type.”

“Really?” That was interesting. Though, thinking about it now, you supposed it was justified how he could come to that conclusion. You could be a dead romantic, but you were also quite realistic. Your parents, what with their fitted and full schedules, had granted you independence from day one. The two of them were even still at their respective jobs until today instead of retiring like you had suggested. Although the three of you were close, keeping things from them to yourself wasn’t a rarity. “Intriguing,” you muttered, “what about you? Are you the ‘tight family’ type?”

He snorted, “Hardly. I haven’t talked to my mother since her messy divorce. She’s out there somewhere, hopefully, probably with one of her many boyfriends. My father’s back in Daegu, wood carver, though we don’t quite talk anymore.”

You winced, cursing yourself for touching what seemed to be a personal subject.

“Don’t say your sorry, there’s no need for sympathy,” he laughed, “it’s been a while. I don’t mind it that much anymore. I check in on my father from time to time, but he seems to be managing well on his own so I tend not to pry too much. He doesn’t seem to want the help, with my being a reminder of what he lost, so I’ve given up along time ago.”

“Even if you’ve given things, sometimes things stay painful if it reoccurs,” you murmured, “and that’s okay.”

Yoongi fidgeted slightly, pinching his lips together. “It just makes it more tolerable, I suppose.” The stiffness in his posture was noticeable and you decided that dropping the matter would probably be best. Yoongi followed your lead and returned to the main reason why he was there in the first place. “Your financials are great and it’ll be enough to assign Mia’s full custody to you. As for everything else…”

“I’m not sure what would be appropriate honestly,” you admitted, teeth catching your bottom lip in wary. “I know that if I ask you, you’d tell me to just take everything.” Yoongi hid his smirk and waited for you to continue. “But I only want to make sure he has enough to get by.”

“You’re all heart,” he said with a shake of his head. You almost felt slighted by the sentiment, but you stopped yourself when you saw the teasing smile on his lips. It was cute, small, and definitely softened his tougher facade if anything. He looked less intimidating. He should smile more often. “Well,” he started again, “how about your daughter?”

You nodded, feeling your heart bloom with warmth and joy at the same time. She was a bundle of sunshine neatly tied with a ribbon of sass. You never quite figured out where she inherited all her energy and wit from. “What about her?”

“Tell me about her,” he requested gently.

Mia. How did you even begin to describe Mia? “She’s great, she’s ten. Very smart, top of her class and always getting into trouble.” The thought drew a small laugh from your throat.

His own lips twitched again in amusement. Pride tugged at your ego for having elicited one and a half smile out of him. Score. This was probably your biggest accomplishment of the year. “She sounds like a real keeper.”

“She is,” you sighed, “I’m just not sure how to break the news to her. I’m scared how she’ll respond to all of it. She’s so young, yet so wise beyond her age. A divorce is still a divorce, and I know how much it can affect children. I’m terrified that it might affect her or her future views on anything remotely romantic. I’ve seen studies on that. As tough and intelligent she is, I don’t want her to end up a complete cynic.”

There was silence then.

You weren’t quite sure how Yoongi would react to your sudden spillage of emotions and your body reacted almost instantly, a flush decorating your face in embarrassment. “Sorry, didn’t mean to just do an instant heart-to-heart.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yoongi chuckled, looking at you with amiability, “I usually avoid my clients’ stories to keep some distance—” you were ready to apologize “—but I appreciate you telling me. I think it’s kind of you to consider the long-term effects for such a permanent decision. I’m sure your daughter will appreciate it as well. She has a great mother after all.”

Speechless, you couldn’t do anything except bite down on your lip again. You cleared your throat, unsure of how to respond to his well meaning words.

Yoongi coughed, “But, since I’m a complete cynic, I take full offense in that.”

You opened your mouth again, apology gleaming in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like a bad thing. Cynics are great too, I mean, you’re very pragmatic about the world and that’s very important to stay grounded.”

Your word vomit had him rolling his eyes but not without the threat of a grin on his lips. “I’m kidding,” he stressed, “it’s a joke. I made a joke. Get it? Ha ha. Tried to make you laugh.”

The words sounded so foreign leaving his mouth and, once what he said dawned upon his realization, his face colored a shade darker, the rosy hue giving his pale face an endearing glow. You could only manage a small “oh” in response, which proved to humiliate him further.

Clearing his throat, Yoongi chose to redirect the conversation back on route. “Anyway,” he coughed awkwardly, “what I meant to say was that it’s alright to give it time. You do have to explain things to her eventually, before things are finalized though. It will give her time to churn everything. She may be furious like any other child would be with a huge change in their life, but she will come to realize why you did what you did. Like you said, she is a smart one so I’m sure she’ll understand that you have her best intentions at heart.”

The burden in your heart seemed to lighten, floating the weight away with your worries. Yoongi could be blunt, could come off as a little standoffish, but you trusted his instincts to have faith in his wisdom. It was the sort of practical comfort that reassured you that maybe everything was going to be just fine. “Thanks, Yoongi,” you whispered.

He raised an eyebrow, “Dropping the honorifics already?”

You snorted, wiggling your finger at him, “You know everything about my personal life now—my marriage, my kid, my job. Hell, you even have my bank statements. We’re basically best friends.”

He rolled his eyes, turning his gaze back to the documents in his hands, but you didn’t miss the way his lips adorably quirked up on the corners. That counted for two smiles, right? You grinned right back at him.

That day, Yoongi had left your office in a flurry, realizing that he had been indulging too happily in the delicious coffee you had prepared for him that the meeting he had half an hour later slipped his mind. You hadn’t seen the  man since. The two of you were caught in the whirlwind of your professions, seeing the workload begin to build on your desks as the days went by. While Yoongi shared bits and pieces of the ridiculous clients he was working with, you gave some insight into how tiring your own employees could be.

However, the divorce was a matter still at hand. With you both having been so swamped with work, it was near impossible to work over weekdays. This was why you decided to invite Yoongi over bright and early on Sunday morning. It was the only time he had off for the month that worked with your own schedule to finalize the last details of the agreement you were to bring to court. The week had gone by in a blur and, before you knew it, the end of the week had arrived, which meant that you had to face Yoongi, Mia, and your parents.

As your luck would provide, all of those affairs bumped into each other that fateful day.

The platinum-haired man was seated in your dining room, nursing a cup of black coffee you had brewed up as you got Mia ready for her playdate ( “it’s not a playdate, it’s actual serious business!” ).

Your parents had arrived around the same time Yoongi had, the two parties regarding each other with vague interest as they stood next to each other by your doorway.

Your mother’s first instinct was to greet you with a “I’m disowning you for having kept this a secret from me.”

Yoongi had choked a little at the statement but you casted his surprise aside, far from astounded by your mother’s renouncement of her motherhood. “Yes, mom,” you drawled, “alright. You’ve made the same threat since I was six, it doesn’t work anymore. Come in, come in. I made breakfast already so get settled.”

Introducing Yoongi to your parents as a single, successful lawyer was your first mistake. Key word: single. That seemed to be the only word that mattered to your mother who immediately began assessing the possibility of his being a future in-law, ignoring the obvious fact that you were still married. Your father, on the other hand, had taken a more protective stance as he seemed to square up the lad with a stern look.

God, could they be anymore embarrassing? You weren’t five.

“This girl, honestly,” your mother huffed to Yoongi who seemed to be straining to appear relaxed. “I cannot bring myself to believe Sungjae was such a man. I thought he was rather handsome at first, both in his character and looks, but now his attitude is completely unbecoming.”

“He was a good guy, Mom,” you defended, “shit happens, can’t help it.”

“That’s hardly an excuse for poor behavior,” she scoffed, turning to Yoongi and patting his shoulder. You could see Yoongi visibly stiffen further. “Look at this man here. A world of bitterness in his eyes but you don’t see him sulking like a child.”

“Mom!” you scolded, squeezing your eyes shut before turning to Yoongi with an apologetic glance. Your mother’s words seemed to humor rather than insult him. “I am so sorry, Yoongi. My mother here does not have a filter.”

“Quite alright,” he murmured thoughtfully, expression unreadable as he hid his emotion behind the steaming cup. He instead looked down to scan over his papers again.

Your mother harrumphed, pointing her nose to the air, “We’re more than happy to cover the costs of the legal obligations. I refuse to let my granddaughter be exposed to such a toxic environment where her father is nonexistent. I’ll put my absolute faith in you, Yoongi-ssi.”

You huffed, glaring at her, “I can afford to pay my own lawyer for his services, Mother.”

“We just want to be assured that you can wipe your hands clean of a man without balls.”

“Mother! Do not speak of his—oh my God, don’t, just don’t.”

“You’ve seen it first hand,” she grumbled, “you know it’s true.”

“Mother!”

Yoongi followed the exchange with mirth dancing in his eyes. However, that happiness was short-lived when your mom directed her attention towards him again, asking him an array of questions, some leaving the great Min Yoongi looking utterly mortified. You had to banish your parents into the living room where you could still hear their complaints.

“God,” you massaged your forehead, pressing the migraine away, “I’m so sorry, it’s been such a mess of a morning for me.” You were barely dressed, only clad in a loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts that were both wrinkled with sleep. “My parents will be out of ours hairs soon, hopefully,” you muttered under your breath, “and so will Mia.”

Luckily for you, Mia barely had the chance to examine Yoongi’s presence with her big, curious eyes. She was quickly strapped to the backseat of your parents’ car once she was dressed and ready to go. You swiftly placed a kiss on her forehead, telling her to behave for your parents before watching them disappear down the street.

“Sorry about the hassle, I must be intruding into too much of your time,” you offered a remorseful look.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved it off. Funny, you figured that, by this point, he might’ve called the entire morning a waste of his resources and precious hours. Instead, the only thing you could find in his eyes was hilarity.

“What?” you asked.

He echoed in confusion, “What?”

“You’re smiling.”

“I’m not,” he rejected with a failed effort to suppress his grin.

“You are,” you insisted, squinting at him, “what’s so funny?”

The corners of his lips tugged up again. “Nothing, it’s just—you and your family are interesting.”

Groaning, you reached over to grab his cup and pour him another from the machine. “They’re terrible really, but I have to love them,” you joked with feigned exasperation.

“I can see now why you are the way you are,” Yoongi stated simply.

“What? Crazy?”

“I was going for affectionate but if the shoe fits.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving the mug his way. “You’re funny.”

“I’d like to think so.” Yoongi caught it easily in his hands and grinned, gums and teeth all out in the open.

Somehow, working with Yoongi turned out to be much easier than Namjoon had made it out to be. His exaggeration of Yoongi’s character had at least prepared you for the worst and allowed you to loosen up whenever he was around. For some time, you thought that, with Yoongi taking care of everything, it would be fine. But splitting assets and property seemed to be the one thing the two of you couldn’t agree on.

It was over a late weekday when Yoongi had shown up at your doorstep again. He looked drained from work and you could only offer consolation in the form of a homemade meal, which Mia had whined about earlier because it was the most you could do. Yoongi appreciated the gesture though as he thanked you for the meal and seemed to empty the plate in a blink of an eye. You wondered if the man was eating well with how much time he spent in the office.

However, the peacefulness never lasted very long. Yoongi was lecturing you for going too easy on what you were offering to Sungjae. “Listen to me,” he hissed, anger bubbling up in his tone, “you’re actually asking me to put down nearly half of your shared possessions to him. Half. That’s ridiculous.”

“But that’s not the point,” you argued, equally as frustrated with how much he was insisting on this.

“Then what is the point?” he spat out, letting the papers fall to the counter with a flutter. “Why do you even want a divorce when you can’t bring yourself to cut this connection you have with him? Sympathy isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

You gritted your teeth, hands clutching the edge of the marble, knuckles whitening. “This isn’t your choice to make, Yoongi. I understand you’re my lawyer but I get to decide the final settlement.”

“Why did you even need me in the first place?” he rolled his eyes, “You’re basically giving him everything he wanted. You might as well fire me now and save yourself the trouble of fighting with me on something I’m knowledgeable about.”

“You’re just being difficult. I understand you know best about these things, but I also need you to understand how I feel about this. You don’t understand the guilt okay,” you sighed, slamming your eyes shut. Your head had been throbbing for the past hour, but you wanted everything to finish clean.

Yoongi sighed, his face flickering with conflict at your admission. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But I’m speaking from your side here as your lawyer, I can’t sympathize with him when you’re my client.”

“Yes, I’m divorcing him because he’s a complete ass but I’ve just about—” you press your lips together, rambling again until you were interrupted by another presence.

“Divorce?”

Your heart stuttered, your words falling back down your throat. Your eyes flew to the doorway where Mia stood, pajamas creased, hair bedridden. Fuck, fuck. You were a fool. You couldn’t believe you forgot that your daughter was asleep upstairs. She was looking at you with wide eyes, gaze glazed over with the weight of slumber still hanging upon her eyelids.

“Mia—”

“You’re divorcing daddy?” Her voice was small, her eyes looking up at you with a small waver. She clutched onto her stuffed animal, tightening her grip on the flimsy thing.

Daddy. God. He didn’t even deserve the title. He hadn’t been home in weeks and Mia was still referring to him as her father. Your heart broke for her, she deserved better. “Sweetheart,” you started.

But Mia stomped her foot down, lips quivering, “Tell me!”

No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. “Honey, look, let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay? You need sleep—”

“No!” she cried again, this time with a frustrated glare, “why didn’t you tell me?”

You sighed, blinking away your own tears and swallowing the thickness in your throat. “I’ve been busy and I didn’t have time, but we will talk about this tomorrow. I promise.”

“You could’ve told me!”

“Mia, that’s enough,” you growled. With all the stress that had piled atop your mind from work coupled with this entire mess, it was as if everything you’ve been bottling up was beginning to tumble over and spill all over your responsibilities. “I don’t want you raising your voice with me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but you still have school tomorrow and that should be your priority.”

Mia pinched her lips together defiantly. Any other time, you would applaud her for her tenacity, but you couldn’t put up with disobedience in that moment. “I would’ve understood,” she pushed again.

“No, Mia!” you snapped, “That is enough. You are still a child and this is an adult matter. I won’t have you speaking to me like this.”

That seemed to be the last straw. Her eyes had been glistening with waterworks before they finally broke, her lips trembling and her small body quaking with anger. Regret immediately flowed through your system and your fury ebbed away into a deep throbbing of your heart.

“Mia—”

“I hate you!” With that last declaration, she ran off up the stairs. You were left to follow the fading echoes of her footsteps disappearing up the stairs. In the silence of the room, it sounded thunderous, like lightning had crackled down upon the household and electrified the once warm home into a cold, uncomfortable quietness.

You could barely muster up the strength and will to chase after her, your body moving automatically and carrying you to the second floor where you rapped your knuckles against the door. “Mia, please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Go away!”

“Baby, please, can we talk?”

“Go away!”

Nothing in the world could’ve compared to the pain of your own daughter refusing you. You couldn’t press further, you knew, because it was in her character to be this stubborn, perhaps taking after your own trait. You leaned your forehead against the door, hoping to hear some sign, any at all to indicate that she was okay.

“Mia,” you whispered again, quieter this time.

For a few seconds, you stood in the utter hush of the house. The hallway unnatural without the cheerful shrieks of your little one. It wasn’t until you felt weight on your shoulders that you pulled away. Yoongi stood there, face void of any emotion that you could name. He steered you back to the kitchen and sat you down, and you could do nothing but comply. “Stay here okay, drink this,” he offered you a small cup, the brownish liquid puffing up curling smoke.

You did as he told almost robotically. Your mind was numb, actions paralyzed with fear. This was the one thing you hoped wouldn’t happen, the one thing you wanted to shield from your daughter from because of this exact risk. Postponing the acknowledgement of your divorce to your daughter perhaps had been one way of coping with that trepidation, but it had happened all the same.

“Would you mind if I went and speak with her?” Yoongi asked quietly, his hand on your shoulder almost like a comforting presence if you weren’t still shaking with fright.

You shook your head, wiping away your tears again and clearing your throat. It suddenly felt so dry, as if all the air had been sucked out of your body. “No, but she—she’s a little stubborn so I don’t know if that’ll help.”

“I’ll take my chances, I’ve dealt with you before after all,” Yoongi said, his voice with a light lilt that did little to pacify your dread. So you only respond with a small nod and the man left you in the overwhelming silence of the dining room.

[vacationcalendar]

7/19/21

Alright bitch, welcome back. Holy shit I make sitting down to blog look fucking impossible don’t I. Alright alright, let’s keep it pg-13 if we can..

I set an alarm for 10am to go off every day that just says BLOG TIME. I’d preferably like to get banging out words onto the page a little bit BEFORE that. It’s a powerful “awakening” activity in my experience, and I should be using that to my advantage. I also want to take as much time as I can on this project, especially if it’s psuedo-replacing a 40hr/week job. The earlier I get started the less I have to worry about what time it is when I’m done. My procrastination on day 2 has cost me the entirety of a sunny day. Well, it’s 2:30 now; so I imagine by the time I wrap this up I’ll have missed peek sun time. But who’s to say?

I’m starting to get that sense of dread again. That feeling I sometimes get when I can see hard plans lining my calendar far too densely populated for my liking. Big dentist appointment tomorrow. Day after that is a wash as far as I’m concerned. Even if my mouth miraculously heals in time to actually enjoy my Wednesday, I can already guarantee the psychic wounds of enduring an hours long, 600$-ish sit under the drill will take at least a couple extended sets of the fitful rest to recover from. Then I leave on Thursday to begin a full weeklong family vacation. And in that week I’ll have to figure out how to keep fucking blogging, or this thing is gonna stall out on the train tracks 100%. Do I have to explain that to you? I mean you get it; you know I’m right about that. I’m a naturally cowardly, sinful guy. I have to build up inertia on any remotely dutiful or healthy task, or I simply cannot keep it up...

So the next 3 days are all going to test my ability to actually sit here and write something. I’m really not going to want to, even though I want for literally nothing else right now. The only thing I want to do more than this creative process is to simply not exist at all. And it’s all compounded by these blasted plans. Fuck these plans. These are the dastardly plans that just cannot get canceled. They’re too high impact, and “good”(?). So then the fact that these blogs are also a “plan” just piles it up too high for me seemingly. It is quite clearly, objectively, not too much to handle. But I cannot help the fact that I feel claustrophobic. I just do. The strategy can’t be to NOT feel that way, it can’t be preventative. It has to deal with the feeling somehow. Hmmm... it’s tricky. To me, in this moment, as I’m typing this, it feels tricky. I honestly think that by the time I’m finished typing here, it WON’T feel so tricky. I’m certainly hoping that’s the case. 

Ok new track: Part of why I procrastinated so long today was pretty simple. I was hungover. I was hungover and I didn’t know what to talk about. Instead of going to be thinking about my usual faire, I was just thinking I feel like shit; I hope I don’t throw up. So I woke up late, slow, and with zero thoughts bouncing around my head. So I just watched LCS footage and read twitter, and by the time I got up and made coffee (mandatory for the blog. Blogging without coffee sounds insane. What would you ponderously sip between sentences? Water? How would that even work?) and sat down to write, I had squeezed out another full hour of procrastination. Now I won’t be hungover again for a while. This was a special occasion of sorts. Another one of my dreaded “plans.” Fuck’s sake. It was a 2nd meet up of Olivia’s peeps for drinks. It was penciled in after the first hang so that we could include everybody that didn’t make it the first time. Perfectly reasonable idea. And the first time sitting and drinking was so much fun that I sort of figured I was obligated to, pay my dues I suppose, for this second meet-up that sounded significantly less fun. But it was perfectly enjoyable. It had the energy of a hangout that could happen every single week like a sitcom. Very easy, probably more drinking than one could maintain if it were a weekly occurrence, but not too much. I don’t know where I’m going with this. Just record keeping, I guess?

Anyways, this morning was not the le morning that I can usually anticipate. So circumstances withstanding PLUS the procrastination ended up pushing the writing well past 3pm. These next 3 days (and the next 8 days after that, holy shit) are also going to mesh quite poorly with this sloppy, laissez-faire approach to getting this done. So I’m worried about it. Look, I want to do this, but I absolutely don’t want to have to worry about it. Is that asking too much? And obviously I can do this without worrying about it, in theory.  But I do not believe in myself, ok? I don’t. I’m telling you that right now. I want to cancel everything and just do this when I fucking get around to it. And, well; here’s the kicker. I didn’t mention this yet, and I probably should have. Once I get back from this GD vacation, my hiatus between jobs will officially be past a full month. I can hear the timer ticking in my head. I am in charge of how much sand I put in this particular hourglass. My mother will fully disagree with me there. I mean, I’m about to spend 8 days with someone who ask me every single day “so have you gotten your new job yet?”

You’re thinking, ‘Max, it’s not just impractical to ask a question with such a clear answer more than once without waiting for any circumstances to change, it flat out does not make any sense at all!’ I agree. We are on the exact same page guy. But you are missing the fact that “it doesn’t hurt to think about it. And maybe you can look online on your phone while you’re here trying to enjoy a vacation.”

Parents are weird. This feeling I’m describing is so relatable to some people. And other people just can’t parse it at all. There are a tiny handful of people in your life that will exist in totality literally forever. I mean one of you will die first, but for that person who died, the other people existed THE ENTIRE TIME. Minus like pre-birth and stuff, but that’s semantics. They are inevitable. They can travel all over the spectrum of human emotion vis-a-vi your relationship, but 99.9% of the grades will result in your staying completely still in your relationship to them. He sucks, but he’s my dad. He’s my dad, he’s fine. He’s my dad, I love him My dad’s the best! These father/son relationships all virtually fill up the exact same liminal space as far as I can tell. The way far ends of the bell curve are where it ever seems to yield different results. My dad is my best friend! One day I will kill my father, and I will finally be free of him. Let’s set those aside for this cross-section (vocab?). Every other relationship ship under the bell curve carries this seeming inevitability to it. These relationships seems like they get “finished” in a way. We know the personality of our parents so completely (and they have stopped changing/growing as people at a certain point), that we don’t actually have to go to them to learn about them. You don’t have to ask them questions or inquire about their opinions, because you can successfully deduce the answer using simple math. But THEN, you have to talk to them still, because they are close to you and want to learn about YOU, because you are still an incomplete puzzle. I don’t know, I just think the part of the parent/child dynamic where you have to share info with a parent even though the conversation has already been “solved;” the formality of it. The chore of it. That’s what it is. It’s chores. We know how chores are going to go, but until you actually do them, there’s this disorder. But instead of a dishwasher it’s a human being, that doesn’t “get” CRT. And if I can’t fucking convince my mother that my 28,000$ in savings will be able to tide me over for more than a week while I actually take a legitimate run at feeling fulfilled in my LIFE, convincing her to dismantle the foundation of our nation’s socio-economic structures in order to save our species from annihilation seems, I don’t know, tough.

Ok, I think I’m done. That took about an hour. I don’t think that’s bad at all. Am I still scared about tomorrow’s blog and therefore the rest of my life as I know it? Yes. Of course.

But at least you’ll be there with me when I get there. Take care bud, eat a good dinner tonight.

Love you

[akaiikowrites]

to build a home pt 3

Summary: “I’m just… Fucking… Look, my heart burns for you.” Katara’s the most terrifying girl in the world. Zuko’s kind of in love with her.

Notes: It took almost ten months but we're back at it again with more High School AU. Light on the "high school" in this chapter. But for a good cause? There's going to be one more chapter after this, so we're in the home (ahahahaha bad puns) stretch. Thank you again for all the kind feedback on my trash.

Rating: PG-13/T for cussing, sexual(ish) content, and pure old fashioned Wisconsin cheese.

Part: One and Two

Uncle doesn’t complain that he spends a lot of their remaining vacation taking pictures and texting. Actually, once Uncle catches on that it’s Katara on the other end, he makes a game out of finding things for Zuko to tell Katara about. It’s both obnoxious and endearing. Because he feels generous, Zuko decides it’s more endearing than obnoxious, and humors his Uncle.

(It helps that Uncle found the weird statue of a crab in hula gear that had Katara laughing so hard that Sokka was able to steal her phone and get a picture of her mid-cackle.)

But their last night in Ember Cove, Zuko leaves the phone in their room and goes out onto the porch. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to Katara it’s just that he’s realized soon they’re going to have to actually talk about things that matter again instead of whatever dumb thing they just snapped a picture of. Uncle is out on the porch with a cup of tea. When Zuko takes a seat on the porch steps, Uncle says, “It is a beautiful night. Very peaceful.”

With a sigh, Zuko lets his head thump back against the railing and wonders how he’s supposed to explain any of this. Part of him had hoped Uncle would pry. Instead, it seems that his Uncle is feeling philosophical enough to let Zuko come to him. Fuck.

It takes almost a half hour for Zuko to figure out what he needs to say. During that time Uncle finishes his first cup of tea in slow, deliberate sips. Then rises and disappears back into their rented cabin to make himself another cup. Zuko finds the exact words as Uncle emerges back into the humid night and takes a seat in the well-worn rocking chair he favors. There’s a creak from the chair and a satisfied hum from Uncle as he takes the first sip of his fresh cup. Zuko breathes in deep and says:

“Katara knows about Mom. I didn’t tell her but she knew. That’s why she became my friend. Because she felt bad for me and wanted to fix me. Help me. I don’t know.” The old frustration surges up. Fresh and raw as it had been the first time. He can feel his hands curling into fists but he doesn’t try to stop it. Just lets the feeling rush through him because he needs to do this. Bleed the poison out of this wound. He just doesn’t want to hurt her again. “That’s why I didn’t talk to her. Because it’s fucked up. Making someone your friend so you can fix them. But she called. Christmas morning. Told me that her mom died and she blames herself and that’s why she does it. Fixes people. Helps them. Whatever it is she does. I don’t want to be a fucking project to her but she needs me and I don’t know how to forgive her but I can’t—”

There are no more words and he’s honestly amazed he made it this far. It feels like the inside of his mouth has been all cut up with razor blades, like he needs to punch something to focus the pain, like he’s exactly the kind of wounded creature who needs a beautiful girl to save him. Zuko knows his eyes are pleading as he looks at his Uncle.

“Katara is?” Uncle says. Philosophically.

Zuko launches to his feet and begins to pace across the width of the porch. “I don’t know. Katara’s…Katara.” Pacing isn’t helping but he knows he can’t vent his anger by hitting something. So he growls, and tangles his fingers in his hair, and clenches his eyes shut. “Katara is someone gentle, and smart, and fierce. She sees all the worst things about life and then decides she can somehow change it. She takes in people because they need it, not because they deserve it. She stays kind even though nothing else is kind. She demands a better world.” Without meaning to his feet come to a stop. He opens his eyes. His hands slide from his hair to fall to his sides. “She makes me want to demand a better world.”

Out here the light is pretty shitty. Reliant on the small lamps that light the pathways between cabins and the heavy moon above them. But Zuko’s pretty sure he’s not imagining the faint gleam to Uncle’s eyes. Or the hoarse edge as he says, “Then the question is, nephew, if your pride is worth more than all that Katara is.”

No. It’s not.

Zuko Himura 11:48PM we need to talk when i get back

Katara Foster 11:49PM i know

It takes them all day to get back to Republic City. They nearly die once because Uncle sees a tea shop and whips their car across five lanes of traffic to get at it. When they pull into the driveway there’s a good six inches of fresh snow that’ll need to be cleared tomorrow. Zuko goes straight upstairs because a week and a half solid of socializing with Uncle is exhausting. (It’s good, too, in a way that he can’t articulate.) After kicking the door shut and dropping his bags, he collapses face first onto his bed, ready to take the world’s longest nap.

The world’s longest nap is only about three hours long.

Zuko wakes up blearily to the faint whine of the tea kettle. It stops but he’s awake, now, so he half rolls onto his side. For a while he just lays there. Cocooned in the warm dark, looking out the window, at fresh snow that swirls backlit against streetlights. Somehow the room feels safe, and cozy, and less like a place he just goes to fall asleep or do homework. The therapist would call that progress if he still went to them every Tuesday.

Falling snow reminds him of Katara. Of that day when they went to the coffee shop. With a groan that sounds more like a growl he rolls onto his back and puts an arm behind his head. The hand resting on his stomach taps out a rhythm.

Even a month later his body remembers her—warm and small and laughing—cuddled against him. It had seemed like too much to handle at the time. What kind of loser jerks off to the memory of giving a girl a piggy back ride? But now he wonders what would’ve happened if he’d pulled her into an alley that day and kissed her. Maybe everything would’ve been different if he’d been braver. Probably not.

Reaching into the front pocket of his jeans, he fishes out his phone and turns it on. Light flares brilliant and white and makes him squint. It’s almost eight. He ignores the next texts from Sokka, the Ultimate Frisbee group chat, and an unknown number to pull up Katara’s conversation.

Katara Foster 2:49PM text me when you get home k?

Feeling a little like a jerk, he taps in, got home a couple hours ago but needed a nap. Then he erases that and sends home instead. That makes him feel more like a jerk but he’s barely had time to feel the full weight of his jerkish behavior when the three little dots that signal an incoming response pop up.

Katara Foster 7:53PM good

Katara Foster 7:54PM are you like super tired?

Even with the nap he feels kind of worn at the edges. But he dutifully says not really why? She reads the message immediately but it takes a full six minutes for her to reply. Zuko imagines it might be because Sokka started doing something obnoxious or GranGran needed help with something. That doesn’t help the nerves. Especially when the three dots pop up and just. Stay there. Taunting him.

Katara Foster 8:02PM meet me at the coffee shop

Katara Foster 8:02PM please

Of course she’s beaten him there. She’s hunched over a steaming cup of coffee that’s cradled in her hands. When the bell above the doorway goes off she looks up, instinctively but not hopefully, like she’s already done this a few times. Except this time it’s actually him. Or at least he assumes that’s why her entire face lights up and she straightens her shoulders and the coffee cup is left forgotten on the table. Zuko barely has time to brace himself and open his arms before she’s in them, face pressed tight into his chest, fingers digging deep into his leather jacket.

“Hey,” he says. It feels like the air’s been knocked out of his lungs and it’s not just because she slammed into him. One arm’s curled around her waist reflexively but he tries to smooth the other over the back of her skull because he’s fairly certain she’s shaking. “Hey, are you okay?”

Katara pulls back very carefully but stays in his arms. It’s okay. Now that he’s touching her, he’s not sure he could let her go, even with everyone in the coffee shop eyeing them. He can’t remember if she’s always felt this delicate or if maybe he only thinks she feels that way because he knows she’s not invincible now. Zuko wants to pull her closer and wrap her up in his jacket. Keep her safe for once.

“I’m okay, I’m just so glad you’re here,” she says. There’s a very soft lilt to her voice that makes him think she’s holding back tears.

Not thinking about the consequences, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, lets himself stay there for a moment as he breathes in the scent of her. He pulls back. Katara’s got her eyes closed. The lines of her face are still and easy in a way they hadn’t been before and he realizes suddenly how tense she’d actually been. Slowly, like someone coming up from a deep dive, she opens her eyes.

“I’m here,” he says. Their eyes lock. It occurs to him that she is steel and glass layered together so firmly that he’s not sure if he’s glimpsing the vulnerability beneath her strength or the courage beneath her fragility. “I’m here,” he promises.

Somehow they manage to completely avoid talking about it.

At first, in those hazy moments in the coffee shop in the hour before closing, Zuko thinks maybe it’s because they’re still too raw. Or because the coffee shop is too public. Or even because they’re too enamored of being around each other again, their knees bumping under the table, her hand eventually settling on his bare forearm like an anchor.

But the last three days of winter break go by and they’re around each other constantly. They have the opportunity. It’s just that they don’t want to, maybe. So it’s like:

One day, they’re sledding in the park with everyone from the Foster’s neighborhood, including one boy with a shaved head who watches Zuko with intense suspicion. Another day, they’re walking through the mall with Sokka and Suki, playing with the Christmas decorations that haven’t been stripped down yet. That last day, they’re going to the indoor pool at the local YMCA so Katara can do some back to school thing for underprivileged elementary students, and Zuko can’t even remember how he got dragged into this when he hates the pool but it’s worth it for the way Katara smiles at him over the heads of thirteen shrieking eight year olds.

After the YMCA, Katara offers to drive him home but Zuko says he’ll walk. It’s only a mile and a half. It’s not even snowing now. What he doesn’t say is he needs time to think because it finally occurred to him as she ruffled her towel over his chlorine damp hair that she’s waiting on him.

Walking is a bad idea. He wakes up the next morning with a sore throat, a stuffy nose, and the kind of vague headache that feels like being underwater. Uncle takes one look at him and says to text Katara for the homework.

The door to his bedroom creaks open. Uncle left him alone after lunch to nap. He’s not sure if he actually slept. It feels like maybe he has.

“No more tea,” he groans. Uncle force fed him an entire pot, he’s pretty sure, and his throat feels better but if he never has to drink another cup it’ll be too soon.

Someone laughs and says, “You sound terrible.” Dread, or mucus, clogs his airways as he turns over to face the doorway. Hazy winter sunlight softens her edges. Zuko watches, feeling bemused and enchanted, as she pushes up the sleeves of her loose cable knit sweater to her elbows and puts her hands on her hips. Purposeful. Amused. Fond. Home improvement stores don’t have paint that can match the blue of her eyes. Zuko can’t breathe and he’s pretty sure it’s not just because he’s needed to blow his nose for the last nine minutes. “You look terrible.”

“You’re awful,” he says. Rolling away from her, he fishes around in the covers for his little packet of Kleenex. Nothing immediately meets his fingers. So he tries to sniffle without it being loud just to get the worst of the snot controlled. Which of course means it seems to echo off every available surface.

Another laugh, muffled this time. “Wait, I need a picture for Sokka.” Floorboards creak beneath her weight and he hears a heavy bag dropping to the floor. The bed dips beneath her as she puts a knee on the edge.

“No,” Zuko says. With great feeling.

“Aw, c’mon,” she says. One day he’s going to figure out how she can sound teasing and worried at the same time. Leaning over him, she grabs the packet of Kleenex and puts it into his hand. “A picture for me then?”

“No,” he says. With even greater feeling.

Katara’s lower lip juts out just a bit. If she’s trying for a convincing pout then she’s failing because he knows what he genuine pouts look like. They involve a slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes, like she’s trying not to cry. It’s a manipulative pout and he’s on to her. “But…” she says. “I need it.”

“Why?”

One of her shoulders lifts in a shrug. “To prove a point. Mostly to Song and Jin. This would prove that you are not handsome and brooding at all times.” Arguably, he’s not handsome at any times. He can’t say much about the brooding. Why Katara would care about any of this in the first place he can’t imagine. “None of the girls at school would think you were some mysterious bad boy if they could see you with a runny nose.”

Since he clearly has no fucking dignity left as she looms over him and confirms that he looks exactly as pathetic as he feels, and that she plans on letting everyone relevant in his age group know as much, he makes deliberate eye contact and blows his nose in a fresh Kleenex. Being herself, Katara maintains eye contact, and then once he’s done goes, “Feel better?” It’s a challenge. Like he’s ridiculously gross and she knows they’re both acknowledging that fact. But also like she wants him to know she saw that petty display of pissiness and she’s above it. Zuko could tell her she doesn’t have to bother. Everyone already knows she’s the most terrifying girl in school. Reaching toward his nightstand, she grabs an entire box of Kleenex, probably one that Uncle left during one of Zuko’s many naps. Handing it to him, she says, “I think you need these.”

“I might hate you,” he says, batting the box away so it thumps onto the floor.

There’s a flicker behind her expression. Fleeting helplessness writ large in the way her eyebrows nudge toward one another and her teeth catch her lower lip. Gone before most people would really catch it. But he caught it and now he’s reminded that she’s not the most terrifying girl in school when it comes to him.

Feeling like a jerk, again, he reaches out and wraps a hand around her wrist. It’s cool to the touch because of his fever. Rubbing a thumb over the soft skin of her inner arm, he says, “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Don’t be,” she says. “I shouldn’t have pushed. You don’t…” It kills him a little, how she pauses, her eyes settled on some loose thread in his comforter. Even though he knows she won’t say it he knows what she’s thinking. You don’t let yourself be vulnerable. Disappointment clings to those unspoken words. Because Katara’s waiting on him. After giving him all the rawest parts of herself on a silver platter. Katara’s waiting on him. Or maybe not, because her eyes are shuttered and her smile now is strained, and she’s saying, “I’m sorry,” like it’s an absolution.

Panic claws at him and he fumbles for explanations. Zuko’s never been good with words and sick muddled as he is they refuse to come at all. In his mind there are the memories—of being sick after his mother left and burning his hand on the stove while he made chicken noodle soup because his father would not feed him if he was weak and he hadn’t eaten for two days—that he needs to share with her so she’ll understand but he can’t figure out how and she’s standing up with that same strained smile as she murmurs goodbyes about letting him rest.

If he lets her go now, he thinks, there will never be another chance.

Zuko uses his grip on her wrist to tug her hand to his face. Most of the skin of his scar is dead, nothing to feel there but pressure and the occasional pain that comes with sudden weather front, but he swears he can feel the rasp of her fingertips as they settle over the ruined skin. Katara doesn’t look like she’s breathing. “Stay.”

Now she sucks in a shaky breath. Her free arm wraps around her own waist like she’s trying to hold herself together. “Why?” she asks. “You haven’t forgiven me. You haven’t even asked if I still—”

Focusing on her glassy eyes, he says, “It doesn’t matter.”

Katara lets out a choked sound and pulls her hand free of his grasp. Wraps her other arm around herself. “The hell it doesn’t,” she says.

Later, he thinks he’ll try to figure out how things went this bad this fast. How they got from gentle teasing to restrained tears. How they even managed to reach this point in the first place instead of exploding or fizzling out so much earlier.

But this, at least, he has words for. Zuko’s voice is hoarse and awful and steady and he tries to gentle it for her but he has to say it, whether she wants it or not, because he can’t lose her like this. “I realized I’m going to choose you being in my life because I can’t imagine not choosing you.” In the hazy winter sunlight, she’s still soft at the edges and so beautiful it aches, and he’s willing to beg. “Please,” he whispers, “Stay.”

Tears build like a flash flood in her eyes and go spilling down her cheeks. One of her knees bumps his ribs as she scrambles onto the bed and tumbles into him. Ignoring that he’s sick and gross and wearing a sweat stained tee she crawls under the covers and presses against him full length. All their limbs are tangled up together. It feels natural to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer. Anchor her into him so that maybe the world will stop tilting wildly on its axis or maybe that’s just his inner eardrums protesting. But when she touches his scar again it’s achingly gentle and she’s saying “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”

[freaoscanlin]

Given Unsought, Part 7

 Jemma came back from Maveth with a little something in tow. She and Daisy attempt to deal. Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

A/N: They probably think they’re being subtle. 2896 words, PG-13. 

Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. The Twelfth Night, Act III, Scene I, Line 147

Week Eighteen

By this point in her Rising Tide days, Daisy would have made a move on Lincoln. She knew it, she had more than enough past evidence to prove it, and yet she felt stuck in a holding pattern. Andrew’s betrayal seemed to hang between her and Lincoln, catching them out of step and off rhythm. He’d come in under duress, essentially, and her loyalty to SHIELD combined with his skepticism of it would probably always serve as a hindrance. But she still found him cute and there was that frisson of attraction, even if it felt a little bit wrong now.

But maybe that was just the past couple of years and romantic missteps seriously messing with her head. After all, she had just watched her best friend kill her previous crush to save her life.

With that in mind, after training ended on Friday, she invited Lincoln to her room, ostensibly to watch a bad Kung Fu movie. And hey, if something else happened, who was she to complain?

But half an hour into the movie, she stayed firmly on her side of the bed and he hadn’t moved an inch, though he’d glanced her way several times. Mostly that was to explain the genius behind the truly terrible movie he’d picked for them.

Still, she was almost relieved when the door banged open. Daisy reached for her gun, but: “Simmons?”

Her friend clung to the door jam, wide-eyed. She took in the tableau of Daisy and Lincoln on the bed with the laptop between them. “Oh, I’m so terribly sorry, I should have knocked. I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“Simmons—Jemma, it’s okay.”

“Is something wrong?” Lincoln asked, already on his feet. Belatedly, Daisy reached over and pushed the space bar to stop the movie.

“Wrong? No, no, no, of course not.” But Jemma still looked wild-eyed and a little panicked.

“Then what’s the matter?” Daisy asked. “What is it?”

Jemma grabbed her arms. “The baby! I felt—I felt the baby move.”

Daisy’s heart jolted. “What? When? Just now?”

Jemma nodded fervently. “Yes! I was—well, I was running tests on some samples in the lab, and they were very interesting, you see, because we’ve been working off the hypothesis that—”

“Simmons, I love your science talk, I really do, but get to the bit with the baby!”

“Right. Right! I was putting samples into the spectrometer and I felt it, just the slightest flutter. I wasn’t even sure, I thought I might be imagining it, but I felt it again and—the baby! Daisy, the baby moved.”

“Oh my god.” Daisy put her hand over Jemma’s midsection. “You felt him?”

“Them, if anything, but yes, I don’t think you’d be able to, the fetus is so little right now.”

“Aw.” In lieu of that, Daisy hugged Jemma, squeezing hard. “What’s it feel like? Is the baby super active? Because you know Hunter’s going to love that, he’s been talking about footy or whatever the hell that is for weeks now. Are you kicking her in the spleen, Simmons Junior?” The last was directed at Jemma’s midsection.

“As ever, your knowledge of human anatomy concerns me. And no, not too active, just some fluttering here or there and—oh.” Jemma grabbed Daisy’s hand, going still. “The baby moved again!”

“Oh, that is so cool. I wish I could—wait, I bet I could pick up the movement.”

Jemma tilted her head. “How?”

“I pick up vibrations, remember? That’s, like, what’s it—sonar, but with feeling.”

“You’re that precise?” Lincoln asked from behind her, and Daisy felt a guilty jolt that she’d completely forgotten he was there.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t use it that way much, but I could…?” Daisy trailed off with the offer to Jemma, raising her eyebrows. “But only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“I trust you,” Jemma said. They’d come a long way since the onset of her abilities, Daisy realized, and the fear in her friend’s eyes as she’d watched Daisy nearly bring down the base. Now she only looked a little bit intrigued about what Daisy planned to do.

Taking a deep breath, Daisy spread her fingers over Jemma’s abdomen and shut her eyes to concentrate better. She heard Lincoln shuffle closer, no doubt curious himself. Gigantic, powerful, percussive bursts of vibration, those were easy. But Jiaying had also taught her to harness the delicate vibrations of a single glass of water, and that was the skill she called upon now. She recognized the typical grouping of vibrations that made up her friend and pushed past this, releasing a gentle pulse. It gave her a mental image of Jemma’s inside, which was weird, but she also felt the fetus in the strange, knowing clarity of her powers.

At the pulse, it kicked out, and both Jemma and Daisy gasped.

“You felt that, right?” Daisy asked.

Jemma put her hand back on her midsection, eyes completely wide. “They definitely liked that. I can feel them moving still. I had no idea you could even do that.”

“You learn something new every day.”

They grinned stupidly at each other until Jemma looked over and jumped.  “Oh, here I am ruining your movie night,” she said. “You’re just about to reach the good part on the bridge, too. Here, I’ll go—”

“You’ve seen Kickpuncher?” Lincoln asked, surprised.

Daisy plopped back on the bed. “Simmons is a bad Kung Fu movie connoisseur. Won’t watch a horror movie until you twist her arm, but bad dubbing and fake fights? She’s all for it.”

And Jemma wasn’t alone in that, apparently, for Lincoln immediately began asking about obscure titles that Daisy was pretty sure were made up. Twenty minutes later, Daisy found herself balancing the laptop on her knees with Jemma on one side and Lincoln on the other. They held an in-depth and passionate debate breaking down the Kickpuncher series into its cinematic themes, throwing out words like mise-en-scene. They bemoaned the directorial change between Kickpuncher 6 and 7. By the time they broke down the evolving fight style of the series’ kickboxing android—“Cyborg, Daisy. He’s clearly a cyborg.”—hero, Daisy found herself drifting a little bit. She’d just close her eyes for a second, she decided. It had been a long week, and clearly she wasn’t needed here.

And thinking about how it exciting it had been to feel Jemma’s baby respond to her, she may have drifted off to sleep.

When she opened her eyes again, the laptop had been removed, the lamp had been turned off, and Lincoln had vanished. A note on the pillow was the only clue to his whereabouts. Daisy could make out the words in the light from the fake streetlight in her window.

Bored two of you to sleep. In order to save my pride, I’m considering this an accomplishment rather than a moral failing. Sleep well – L

Well, that would explain the warmth pressing up against her back. Daisy typically slept on her side, but she also slept alone, so she was a bit confused about that. She peered over her shoulder to see Jemma facing the other way, even as she snuggled against Daisy so they slept back to back. She hugged her pillow with one hand and held the other protectively over her stomach. Daisy tried to shift away to give her more space, but Jemma grumbled in her sleep and moved closer.

And that was a bit strange, but honestly, it felt nice. Jemma always used some shampoo with a scent Daisy couldn’t identify but found calming nevertheless. And the last thing Daisy wanted to do, really, was wake a pregnant woman in the middle of what could be an important sleep cycle in order to shuffle her off to a cold bed two rooms down. They’d shared beds before. But previous to Maveth, never this often. Usually when they were on the run or there was limited space.

But from what Jemma had told her about the planet—which wasn’t much, her friend was still tight-lipped about everything—sleeping had always come at the cost of wondering if the dark creature would find her or Will in their sleep. So it wasn’t any wonder that Jemma had apparently opted to simply stay or fall asleep right there.

Even half-asleep, Daisy took a moment to marvel at the sheer absurdity of their lives. She rolled over, hugging Jemma from behind. Her friend sighed in her sleep, seeming to relax. And hey, it was cold. Shared body heat or whatever.

Or at least that was what Daisy told herself as she fell back asleep.

Week Twenty

Near the end of January, Daisy stopped by the lab and poked her head in. Not seeing any signs of her one friend, she focused on the other. “Is Simmons around?”

“Check the hangar.” Fitz didn’t look up from gluing an optic in place on one of his drones. He’d talked about it at dinner the last night. Kili? Maybe? Or was it Fili? Daisy hadn’t paid attention. “She’s calibrating one of the containment pods.”

“We’ve got a new inhuman? Why didn’t anybody tell me?”

“Little busy here,” Fitz said.

Because she recognized his ‘truly at work’ tone—which held more gruffness than rudeness—Daisy very considerately did not ruffle his hair as she went by. She jogged to the hangar, checking her phone for any missed messages and wondering why nobody had alerted her about the inhuman. Calibrations should also be made in flight, in order to get a jump on the ATCU. Unless they weren’t doing that anymore.

Maybe they were just letting the ATCU handle all of the inhumans now. Daisy really, really did not like the thought.

She found Jemma by the containment pods, entering number into a tablet. She wore her coat from the lab, smartly pressed and immaculate, over one of the new maternity shirts Bobbi had bullied her into buying. She looked almost as fresh-faced as their first week on the Bus. And just as focused on her work, though she did glance over as Daisy trotted up.

“Hey, Simmons? What’s going on? Nobody told me there’s a new inhuman.”

“There’s not.” Jemma tapped a number in. “Or if there is, I’m not aware of it. We’ve set this pod aside for Will.”

“For W—oh.” Daisy blinked and studied the white pod. “You think he’s inhuman?”

“No. Though it’s possible. I’ve been running calculations, and I’m a little concerned that the altered gravity and atmosphere on earth might be difficult for his body to handle. The pod is the best chance we can give him to help adapt so he can return to a normal life.”

“Right. I…didn’t even think about that.” A normal life. It struck Daisy that for all of her promises to help Jemma find Will and bring him back, he’d still been nothing but an abstract to her. She never really thought about the logistics of bringing him back, what he would go on to do, how he would adapt after over a decade on another world. But Fitz was close if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by, and that meant they’d be returning with a real live flesh and blood man. One with a baby on the way, Daisy thought, looking at Jemma’s maternity blouse. He’d be active and involved with Jemma and the baby both. As he should be.

So why had an ugly sort of coldness spread through her chest? Why did she resent this man she’d never seen or met?

“Daisy?” Jemma said, and Daisy swiveled to face her quickly. Too quickly. “Is something the matter?”

“What? No. No, nothing’s the matter. Of course it isn’t. I’m happy that Will’s coming back and excited we’re at this stage. Why wouldn’t I be?” God, why couldn’t she stop talking? Why had her mouth decided to plot its own conversational disaster course without consulting her?

Jemma eyed her. Abort, Daisy’s brain shouted at her mouth. Abort. Stop.

“I personally can’t think of a reason not to be excited,” Jemma said, turning back to the tablet. “Unless you were jealous or something.”

Though the last was added breezily, Daisy froze up like a caged animal. Had it always been this close and cramped in the containment pod area? Jealous? Her? That would be ridiculous. Absurd. Outlandish. Jealous of what? Preposterous.

Some traitorous part of Daisy’s brain less-than-helpfully noted that she was using far too many synonyms for someone trying to play it cool. “Pfft,” was all she managed to say.

“You’re not jealous, are you?” Jemma asked in a voice Daisy couldn’t decipher.

“Of what? A dude who’s about to get stuck in one of these for months?” Daisy thumped the side of the pod with her palm. “Hard pass.”

“I suppose you have a point there.” Jemma looked hard at the tablet like the numbers weren’t adding up. “It’d be absurd to be jealous of something like that.”

That’s what I said, Daisy wanted to say, but she was a little too busy frowning to herself. Had Jemma sounded disappointed? That was strange. “Totally absurd,” she said. She stuck her hands in her back pockets and rocked back on her heels to study the pod. After a second, she slanted a look at Jemma. “Sucks to be stuck in one of those, but he’ll get to spend a lot of time with you as he adjusts. So he’s got that going for him.”

She expected that Jemma would laugh or fondly roll her eyes at Daisy for the over the top compliment. Instead, though, her head snapped up. “Yes, I suppose he does. Are you worried I’m going to neglect you when he comes back?”

Daisy made a face. “What? No. Now you make me sound needy.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Right. Because the term is ‘special,’ not needy, and don’t you forget it, lady.” Daisy grinned, finding things a little more centered at the banter.

But Jemma’s smile turned sincere.  “You’ve always been special.”

Not the response she’d expected. Daisy squinted, even as warmth from the compliment threatened to reach her toes. “Thanks?”

“You’re very welcome. It’s not like I would let just anybody take me to my prenatal appointments.” Jemma turned her attention back to the tablet.

And just like that, Daisy remembered why she’d been looking for Jemma in the first place. “Speaking of—that’s Tuesday, right? What time?

“One o’clock. Can you still make it?”

Daisy shrugged. “I cleared my schedule for the day. I just wanted to make sure.”

“Oh, Daisy. You didn’t have to do that.”

She needed a day off, really, but Daisy didn’t mention that. They’d broken into an ATCU facility against Coulson’s wishes. It had been to spy on Constance Price and her creepy sidekick, but it had led to nothing but frustration. And a lecture from Coulson. So she could use a break from all of this, and Jemma’s doctor appointment had been an amazing excuse. “It’s fine.”

Jemma cleared her throat. “Since you did, however…”

Daisy perked up. “Ice cream?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you might come with me to look at some apartments. Oh, don’t give me that look, you know there’s no possible way I can stay on a SHIELD base with a baby.”

“Yeah, we do get infiltrated here a lot.” But she said it grudgingly, hunching her shoulders a little. She liked having Jemma nearby—and Fitz, Bobbi, Mack, all of them, too—and she knew it was childish to see Jemma leaving as anything but the next logical step. But the girl who’d grown up in foster homes would always be part of her, and she couldn’t fight the instinctual panic that once Jemma moved, they wouldn’t see each other at all.

On the other hand, she’d never really had the opportunity to go apartment-hunting before. That was more than a little exciting.

“Sounds good to me,” she said. “As long as—”

There was the fond eye-roll she’d expected earlier. “Yes, yes, of course we’ll get ice cream after,” Jemma said.

“Cool. Come get me when it’s time to go.” Daisy squeezed Jemma’s arm. By the time she reached the door, Jemma was already buried deep within her work, head bent studiously over the tablet as she made adjustments to the containment pod. Daisy paused and frowned without meaning to, eyes lingering on the pod.

After more than a decade in hell, Will deserved to come home and live a happy life. No doubt about that. He’d done his duty to his country.

So why in the hell was she jealous?

She knew why, and it was getting harder and harder to deny it. And down that path led only danger. What had Jemma said to her on the roof? Navigating coming back from another dimension whilst pregnant, on top of a romantic relationship that could ruin everything? Can you imagine the stress?

The problem was, Daisy could imagine all of it. More and more, she had been imagining all of it. And stressful wasn’t the word she would use.

But Jemma had a point. With a sigh, Daisy slipped out of the hangar and back to the real world.

[mortismemorandum]

Makai Ouji Fiction | Guardian

Title: Guardian Fandom: Makai Ouji Rating: PG Pair: Hints of Dantalion/William Characters: William Twining, Dantalion Wordcount: 641 Summary: A drabble written two years ago for @granddukedantalion, who has since deactivated her account. This is still a lovely little piece of work. I do very much miss out threads together. I hope if she sees this it makes her smile.

X - Original Post here

If there was anything William hated most in the world, it was having to rely on Dantalion. Never in his life had the young Elector been forced to rely on anyone other than himself - not for his achievements in school, not his social status, and certainly not his safety. Even when he was made aware that he was a target of both Heaven and Hell, he remained firm in his standing that he would do things by his merit, on his terms. He had stood up against demons and angels alike, though powerless before them. He had quelled his fear and commanded peace between political opponents and faced the ambiguity of his not so distant future.

                 But on occasion, situations did become perilous, too much so for himself to handle alone. When those times came, those under Solomon’s control came to his aid. More often than not, Dantalion rushed to his side at the most crucial of moments, defending his life without care of his own.

                 He hated it. William hated those times. He hated how completely helpless he was, how despite his best efforts he could not gain the means to defend himself. He was forced to play the role of a damsel in a fairytale, needing a brave knight to come save him. By whatever damned god there was, he despised it. But most of all he loathed how he loved those times all the same, how he felt elated apart from his grief. The man whom had started out being a troublesome, overzealous oaf who knew no boundaries of personal space had lived up to his promise of protection.

                 It held true now, as it did always.

                 William spared a glance at the smouldering corpse of the demonic thing - he honestly hadn’t bothered to learn any of these creatures names - that had attacked him. As expressed numerous times, things were getting worse before there would be any hint of getting better. The creature had made it’s move when he had been walking alone about campus, making a simple routine check expected of him as prefect. The result was a brief chase and yet another swift rescue. Absently, the boy pondered whether or not Dantalion spied on him readily to always come in the nick of time.

                 He was holding him again, having tugged him close by the shoulders. He was speaking loudly as he always did, but William wasn’t listening. He continued to stare at the monstrosity until it rotted away into dust, only to lower his eyes once it was gone. A weak demon, he imagined, but if not for the man gripping his shoulders and bantering on at him now then he could have perished. So much for the great descendent of Solomon. He snorted softly - how easy it could have been. Pathetic.

                 Dantalion wasn’t shutting up. It was giving William a headache, really. He still hadn’t any idea what he was blabbering on about, nor did it matter. In a moment the demon’s prattle had ceased, words caught in his throat by a simple touch; small hands that came to grip at his robes upon his back, a faint, ever so soft pull. The blonde head of the Elector bent, his forehead brushed against the tall demon’s collarbone. There were a hundred things one could say, hundreds more going through William’s mind just then, all coalescing into one collective thought; let it be. He would deal with his actions later. For now, he needed this.

                 Maybe it was a reward, maybe he merely needed comfort. It didn’t much matter. The gesture was simple, but it spoke volumes. “Don’t…Don’t look into this too much…” he murmured just barely over a whisper. There was silence, lingering and thick, yet not unpleasant. Things were calm now. William let his eyes slip closed. “Just…Thank you…Dantalion.”

[macabrecabra]

Do you think you could write a prompt of young!Shimada bros reacting to Hanzo's new look in the comic "Reflection"?

I can do that sure.... going to guessthis is Hanzo getting that look done when younger at some point for awhile. This writing prompt ask is so old I'm sorry for delay ; w;(Note: I am NOT accepting new writing prompts as I'm buriedalive in them still! Trying to clear em all out so can focus on newerasks ; w ; ) Title: New LookRating: PGRelationship:Shimada Bros being bros

Never in all his life did Hanzo feelso self conscious of how he looked despite the fact no one was evenlooking his way on the train.

Everyone was busy with their own lives,checking phones or idly watching the advertisements that whizzed pastthe windows as the train hurtled forward. Still, Hanzo couldn't shakethe feeling that every eye was looking at him and staring in someform of horror despite the fact he knew he didn't look strange or outof place. A few facial piercings and a new undercut hairstylewere not terribly over the top. Frankly his look was rather tamecompared to many others, but to his family, such a look was going tobe a shock. He was already regretting the impulsive choice hehad made to get the hair style and piercings at all and was alreadyplotting to sneak into his home, get to his room, and try to cover itall up and pretend today was nothing more than a fever dream he had.It must have been a fever dream for him to think this was a good ideaat all. The feeling of dread only grew stronger as hisstation grew closer and closer. The chime of the doors opening andclosing seemed more like the toll of death bells. Before long thefinal toll of that far too cheery bell filled the air as the doorsslid open to reveal his stop. Hanzo stepped out onto the platform,tugging the hood of his jacket up over his head, casting a furtiveglance about the platform before hastily making for the stairs. Everystep he took, he felt like someone was watching him and about tospring out and shriek about how he he had dishonored the clan withhis new look.As soon as his father found out, Hanzo was morethan sure he was going to be thrown out of the clan at best and atworse well, the elder Shimada's imagination was ripe with a myriad ofexecution styles that could be used. After all, crime lords wereoften commended on their strange, often terrifying methods ofexecution of those that broke the rules. Hanzo swallowedhard, walking quickly and nearly breaking into a full run from theuneasy panic thrumming in his veins. The feeling was unfamiliar.There was little in life that could inspire true fear in Hanzo andall of those things that could were linked to the clan in some way.The clan, the approval of the clan, and the fear of failure that hadbeen practically beaten into him since he was a small child trying tocarefully write out his first characters always managed to rile up unease and fear within him. Perfect. Everythinghe did had to be perfect  and what he had done to his hair, the piercings he had gotten, that was not perfect. That wasrebellious.It was something Genji would do to try andintentionally buck the rules of the clan.

“What have I done,” Hanzogroaned, slowing his pace only as he drew closer to home. “Whathave I done.”

He didn't bother using the front doorand instead scaled the side of the wall and slipped into thecompound. Knowing the security and patrols of his own home alwaysmade it almost laughable easy to sneak in. All it took was needing tobreak into his own home to be aware of all the security flaws of theplace. Mistakes could be made though, even by Hanzo, especially when panic and adrenalinewere in control.Genji was never home and thus his bedroom wasmore often than not empty. Not to mention the younger Shimada likedto keep his windows open to let in fresh air while he was out, nodoubt to try and get the smell of sex and cigarettes out.It was theperfect point of entry in order to sneak into the interior compound.Of course, that only worked when Genji wasn't actually there.Hanzo had just hauled himself up onto the window sill before hewas throwing himself forward as every instinct sent him rollingforward as a hail of deadly throwing stars embed themselves in thepane. The elder Shimada's eyes widened even as he got to his feetonly to be slammed to the ground, a blade at his neck and a glaring,half naked Genji on top of him.

“You have ten seconds to tell mewho you are intruder or I will remove your head from your neck,”Genji growled, eyes narrowing. Really if his life hadn't beenin danger at this moment, Hanzo might have laughed just a bit at thefact his brother was threatening while wearing nothing but boxers anda pair of pink slippers with cats on him. Instead he opted to hold upboth hands, letting out a low growl of his own.“Do you notrecognize your own brother?” Genji frowned some, beforemoving one hand off the handle of his blade to pull back the hood ofHanzo's jacket. He sat their frozen for a bit, before smirking wideand finally withdrawing, “Well, I recognize the face, but if youare my brother, well, I must say the new look is ratherfetching.”Hanzo didn't respond, merely growling as he roseto his feet, brushing himself off, “It thought you would be outtonight.”“Didn't feel like it tonight, or rather, crazyex-girlfriend is stalking me and I don't want to go to another barwhere she is staring at me like I'm going to take her back.” Genjireturned with a roll of her eyes, “I'm laying low for awhile.”Hanzo watched his brother move back across the room, silently berating himself for not noticing the dull glow of a TVscreen where a paused game was. Genji settled himself down again onthe couch in his room, stretching out his feet  and more or lessstabbing his sword point first in the floor beside the couch. Thatbrought a frown to the elder Shimada as he slunk forward, handsburied in his jacket. “You should take more care of yourweapon, Genji. It is unbecoming of a Shimada to treat their weaponso.”“Oh? Unbecoming? Just like the new look you have?”Hanzo ducked his head and pulled the jacket back up over hishead, “I know I made a mistake.”Genji chuckled, “Itlooks fine Hanzo. I honestly like you better with this hairstyle thanyour old, anime protagonist look you had going on.”“Fatherand the elders are going to have a fit about it,” Hanzo groaned.“What am I going to do?”“Just own the look or say it issort of an Edo period pseudo look, like a Shogun or the like that youwere inspired to try,” Genji suggested, flicking his gaze to hisbrother. “You already did it and not like you can walk aroundwith a paper bag over your head until it grows back.”“I'mdoomed,”

Genji rolled his eyes, “You aren'tdoomed, anija. You are being over dramatic. Big difference. Father isnot going to murder you for a change in hairstyle. It is not likeyour hairstyle and choices in fashion are going to be a deathsentence. If that was the case, I would already be buried in the backgarden a dozen times over,”The younger Shimada made a goodpoint. Really changing his hair as he had was a minor offense if anythingand it wasn't like he had dyed it some bright obnoxious color or wastrying to go for a rather extravagant look. Not to mention Genji wasright in a way as the style he wore now did have some similaritiesto older styles of men's hair from the past.“What about the piercings? I was told not to take them out yet,” Hanzomurmured.“Take them out but put them back in as soon as youcan. Only thing for it,” Genji returned. The younger Shimada paused for amoment before giving his brother a wry grin, “Or just next time getpiercings where no one will see them unless they have you strippeddown in bed eh?”

Hanzo blanched, shaking his head,“Pass.”Genji chuckled, shaking his head, “Butseriously, the look suits you. Actually makes you look less like adocile,brooding maiden.”That comment earned a shove fromHanzo which only caused Genji to laugh. The younger man only gave hisbrother a lazy grin as he watched him cross to the door. “Ohcome on Hanzo! Tell me I'm wrong about that!”“You arewrong about it. Just like you are wrong about most things.”Genjiscoffed, “You mean how I'm right about most things and most of thetime it is the clan does something and I'm there in the backgroundgoing told you so.”Hanzo rolled his eyes, opening the door,“Only in your fever dreams, Genji.”Still he couldn't denythat his brother's words had done wonders to ease the panic and hecarefully pulled down the hood of his jacket as he made his wayacross the hall to his own room. For a moment the elder paused beforethe mirror, taking in the face he saw there. No longer was there acurtain of hair falling over his face. Merely a familiar facethat was, perhaps just a little, trying to have a small rebellion ofhis own and not let Genji have all the glory.Hanzo allowedhimself just the barest hint of a smile. Maybe it was a lookthat he could let grow on him and the clan.

Maybe.

[wellpurorganics-blog]

Difference In Between Organic and also Natural - Easy Overview | Wellpur Organics

Organic is the brand-new buzzword.

  Yet there are distinctions in between Certified Organic, Organic as well as Natural that you may be wondering about as well as need to certainly understand.

  Everyone seems to be discussing it, the mommies at the institution canteen, your boss on her "only eco-friendly vegetables will certainly enter my air" diet plan, and maybe even your teenage child in an effort to get rid of the pimples she really did not welcome along on her puberty journey.

  Yet like all buzzwords, there is a great deal of misconstruing around the word and some nasty problems also. Believe it or not, the idea of organic is actually quite simple, much like everything Nature associated. Generally, anything complex as well as incorrect with it is possibly triggered by mortals, and possibly some vampires ... however that's one more story.

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If staying on top of all the natural subtleties is doing your head in, don't stress. This overview should establish you straight.

  1. There actually is a difference ...

  In Between Licensed Organic, Organic and also Organic/Natural based items, that is. I do not condemn you for being a little iffy regarding this set because as a person submersed in this area of proficiency, you would certainly assume I 'd have this one down pat by now.

  Seriously, I believed I did.

  Yet as I talked with a potential representative in Thailand recently, I became aware that maybe I just understood the difference in Australia. In all my naivety, I actually (rather unreasonably, it appears) believed that maybe there would be a worldwide definition for Organics. Foolish me because that would certainly make it, oh I do not understand, easy!

  It turns out that in Australia a minimum of, Licensed Organic describes items that are Organic and have actually been declared thus by an ideal government/independent body. Companies that are producing Certified Organic Products most likely have Chief executive officers that have actually lost all their hair now. I'm not kidding; I 'd in fact be prepared to put a wager on it which is stating something considering my disappointing wagering document. Obtaining Organic Accreditation is not a tiny task, it takes loads of time, great deals of documents, going back and also forth a billions times and also lots of financing.

  Organic is most likely (do not shoot me, I did say most likely and even italicised it) specifically the very same in terms of quality as well as handling as Certified Organic without the main badge of honour. What stops some individuals from purchasing organic however is that there's no official evidence. It's like swearing that you saw a spaceship without the picture to verify it. You might be questioning why I've italicised official two times previously. It's because the suppliers of Organic Products should have some kind of documentation specifying that the products have actually had no chemical and also unnatural processing taking place before it got to your fingertips. Must does not constantly mean they do, which is wrong. Really wrong. A minimum of in my publication anyhow however we all have different yardsticks ... you understand.

  Essentially natural products are based on relying on the manufacture reasonably. Though there's no main qualification, the document specifying the above still implies the supplier better be telling the truth or they're most likely to be in hot water if somebody figures out otherwise.

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Organic/Natural Based is typically described as Organic by Default.

  What this implies is that an organic based item is most likely to be exactly the means Mother Nature intended. It's like expanding your own tomatoes in your backyard and then offering them at your youngsters' lemonade stand. They were grown specifically the method the environment desired them grown, the naturally ideal method and also you do not need to have any kind of paperwork stating so because well, Nature really did not pass one along, did she? Since if she did why are you right here reading this blog post? Go as well as tell somebody now and also get abundant as well as famous.

  2. Should you also trouble or is Organics nothing greater than a buzzword for my much richer neighbour?

  Honestly, I'm going to place my foot in it since it is one of my leading 3 abilities on my return to.

  Though I am virtually accountable (when my daddy isn't enjoying) of a Certified Organic/Organic/Organic based lasting organisation situated in a little picturesque town that makes it hard not to be encouraged to live as closely to nature, the reality is that there is no extensive proof that natural is really better for you.

  But ... due to the fact that you know there's constantly a however, many individuals who advocate Organic Products will never tire of informing you that you can't put a price on sound judgment, or as my mum claim's, sound judgment is not an asset cost the local veggie market. You have no idea how much making use of that claiming pained me because it was the eccentric reaction I would certainly usually get when I returned residence as well as informed her concerning something silly I did (which till today, remains to be often).

  It makes sense to use what Earth has produced so bountifully for us viewing as we're simply one of the numerous productions of Mother earth. It's fascinating just how every continent has actually managed ahead up with something beneficial naturally for its residents. India has Neem (The Tree of the 21st Century as stated by the United Nations), Australia has Tea Tree Oil, the United States has Echinacea while Europe has Geranium ... you obtain it. Nature's made it so there's something for every person.

  What this signals to Organic fanatics is that the atmosphere understands ideal. There's a reason why certain plants and also natural herbs are native to the locations that they are, they're made up of things that your body requires due to where you live. Ineloquent, I understand, but you've got it down-pat.

  What does this mean for All-natural Product fans? They want to put their buck where their mouth is and also pay for what they believe is going to maintain them and their families healthy and balanced because it's only mosting likely to save them a great deal of moolah and distress on healthcare facility expenses later on in life. Simply saying.

  3. Okay, whatever. But why are Organic Products so much extra costly?

  I obtain it. They really are.

  As well as while it doesn't truly cost you an arm as well as a leg to live organically (no a few of our clients, it actually does not), they do cost greater than their non-organic, chemical loaded alternatives.

  Individuals can't typically wrap their head around why this is specifically so I believed I would certainly offer you my two cents, naturally!

  I can not inform you how difficult it is to get Qualified Organic Products status due to the fact that this is a PG write-up as well as my key-board is most likely to break after I make it through all the vow words ... from every language on earth as well as Uranus. Primarily, it's as difficult as um, nails.

  As you can visualize, it is difficult to make sure that your field of fruit and vegetables is entirely, 100% all-natural. This is because mainly, fields are frequently clumped together as well as not all areas in a location are declaring to be organic. Which means that chemicals utilized on one field can extremely naturally (because of weather conditions such as wind changes and also rainfall) land up on a "Qualified Organic" area.

  Certified Organic farmers are usually incredibly stressed out undoubtedly. Imagine needing to make sure that the climate listened to your impulses as well as fantasizes. Don't think me, have a look at this (what some would certainly refer to as ridiculous) newspaper article. It is becoming increasingly expensive for cultivators of natural produce (as well as difficult) to fulfil the needs of natural qualification which is verifying to be a substantial burden on farmers who (generally) are attempting in earnest to do the ideal point.

  Sure, organic fruit and vegetables is quick obtaining appeal however the headaches surrounding the promo and growth around it makes qualified chemical-free farming more of a labour of love than anything else. Organic farmers truly do count on the principle of collaborating with Mother earth instead of versus it. They count on permitting the Planet to care for its create the way it was constantly planned, with all-natural resistances to parasites and permitting foods to grow when they're meant to.

  Organic farmers need to pass a little bit of the expenditure of expanding their produce onto the customer to make certain that every person is getting the best, most all-natural product possible.

  4. Do I actually need Organics?

  Well, do you actually require those brand-new set of Louis Vuitton shoes or that Versace match you have actually had your eye on for the past six months. Possibilities are no. However that does not transform you desiring them, right?

  It's practically the same for Health food, other than as opposed to advancing from our somewhat (attempt I say) vain area, the need for health foods is possibly coming from our gut and taste buds.

  Your body wants natural and also normally made and expanded produce and though there is no main proof that you need it, I would personally rather count on my internal organs understanding what's good for them than what some scientist (perhaps financed or lined up to some huge international) is teaching to me.

  Though I am sceptical of my taste the majority of the time (particularly when they crave hot french fries as well as some sour lotion as well as chives dip so they do not get lonesome), when they inform me a particular organically expanded tomato needs to get on the food selection tonight, I pay attention a bit much more diligently (primarily due to the fact that they appear to be acting themselves - which is rare).

  So, to cut a lengthy story (or in this situation short article) short, though I may not require organics, I absolutely want them. Similar to my next pair of Louis Vuitton's so hands off!

  5. Seasonal Foods are much better for you?

  Genuinely Organic Foods are seasonal by their very meaning. Due to the fact that they're grown the way nature intends, they grow when they're supposed to which commonly suggests that your body is obtaining the nutrients it's meant to when it requires them one of the most.

  They also have less of an influence on the atmosphere which has reached be an advantage, right? Not only do consuming seasonal fruits make certain that regional farmers have even more of a possibility when battling versus big multinationals and less expensive rates from overseas, it also ensures that the produce you take in is most likely to be fresher and also therefore healthier.

  Organic generate that is likewise locally generated is the very best alternative as it implies that you're assisting to send your tough made money back right into your priceless community which will just offer to make everybody around you happier as well as much more solvent, which has got to be a benefit, right? You enjoy, you're neighbour's satisfied, the canine's delighted ... you understand. I bet you're currently really feeling better, am I right?

  However however, frequently regional farmers can not manage to end up being certified natural, nonetheless numerous regional farmers may already be using organic techniques (without the certification to prove it). See your neighborhood farmers market and also talk to the farmers marketing their produce, you might simply locate that what they're doing is already natural anyway. Want some even more information on why every person should be bonkers regarding in your area expanded food? We hear you.

  6. There is a recurring promote Organic Foods to be much more Fairtrade

  Organic generate is not assured to be Fairtrade, allow me simply placed that available prior to you spam me with hate mail. I'm more of an enthusiast, you see.

  There is a basic consensus that Organic as well as Fairtrade need to be joined together to far better offer the atmosphere and community. Nevertheless, as severe as it might seem, people have a tendency to be much less worried about their setting when the more pressing issues of getting food on the table for their family members is at the center of their mind which is why there is such a push for natural fruit and vegetables to additionally be Fairtrade, especially in developing countries.

  Let's be completely truthful right here, it's not rocket science, is it? Every person's (no matter society or territories) primary priority is attending to their family members. Fairtrade techniques make sure that farmers have the ability to maintain a suitable way of life which makes it much easier and also profitable for them to guarantee that the produce reaching your dining tables are as natural and also all-natural as possible. It's a win-win solution for everyone as well as considering just how far and also couple of in between they remain in general life, I claim get it with both hands when we can.

  7. Organic Foods last much longer

  In 2015 I was so stunned to see how fresh my organically grown plums (from my yard) looked almost four weeks after being chosen. I think I have my stunning plum tree (I have actually nicknamed her Plumpilicious) to say thanks to for piquing my rate of interest in the wonder of generate grown the way Mother earth meant (and also the scrumptious fruit my neighbors, officemateses and also I obtained as well from Plumpilicious's stunning bounty).

  As it turns out, organic fruit and vegetables truly does last longer than their more traditionally grown peers.

  Which makes you ask yourself, doesn't it? What do un-organic items have in them, that also after all the preservatives and also chemicals in them, they rot quicker? I have absolutely no idea yet short articles similar to this one certainly dropped a lot more light on the subject.

  So, in the end, I would certainly suggest that it depends upon the kind of fruit and vegetables with regards to whether organic or their non-organic counterparts last much longer. Or it could just be that Plumpilicious is one of a kind, I always had a hint.

  To cover this all up ... Are you sold on Organics or otherwise?

  I hope that this rather comprehensive overview has actually aided get rid of some of the mistaken beliefs and also confusion around the whole Organic idea for you. If nothing much more, I wish it exists you with some great write-ups for you to sink your teeth into around the rapid ending up being popular Organic space.

  Many of our consumers are uncertain as well as unsure of what the purposes of Organic products are as well as whether they're deserving of all the hype they're accessing the minute. After operating in an Organically geared organisation, I can't tell you to go out and also swap all your non-organic items with natural since that would look suspicious. Yet, I would highly advise you to try the idea out after educating yourself on the whole ball of wax.

  I can present you with numerous truths as well as numbers (as well as study and also testimonials) on why you need to go the Organic path but in the end, human beings like to try before they buy. It's this remarkable curious mind we have actually all been talented (or cursed - whatever you favor) with.