#i was listening to the anthology and i love it so much. he barely even sounds english

[biatels]

i don't think I've ever heard someone say this but Paul did such a good job pronouncing bésame mucho

[munsons-hellfire]

How Did It End? | Lucien Vanserra

SUMMARY: He chose Elain over you, but your mates are there to help rebuild what he broke when the relationship ended.

PAIRINGS: Poly!Feysand x Reader, Lucien Vanserra x Reader (Past), Lucien Vanserra x Elain Archeron

CONTENT WARNING: SFW, heartbreak, poly!feysand, angst, fluff, happy ending

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by How Did It End? by Taylor Swift. This song is one of my favorites of TTPD: The Anthology. When I was listening to this on repeat, it just got me thinking about characters from ACOTAR, and I just thought this best fit Lucien. I hope you enjoy this!

WORD COUNT: 2.0K

Lucien Vanserra was many things, that much you knew. Before Elain had come into your lives you’d spent such a long time with him. He made you believe things that you didn’t think you’d ever had. When he finally found his mate, the last thing you expected was to hear him say he chose her. You should’ve known this day would come.

He kept you in the Spring Court even when it was falling down. And when the war was over he kept you hidden from your friend. He kept you hidden away from Feyre. You rotted away in the Human land while your lover worked tirelessly to win his mate over. You guessed that he had done so. He stood in front of you, years after winning the war.

He looked so different from the last memory you had off him. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d kissed him, the last time he held you in his warm embrace. There were so many last memories that you just couldn’t remember when they had happened. Elain was in the room, her sister and brother in law also with them.

“Oh.” Was all you could muster up, the word breaking as it fell from your lips. That single word didn’t so much as affect the male, or his mate. But you could see the pain Feyre and Rhysand held on their faces and it confused you. “When did you work it out?” You went on to ask. Lucien stepped forward, but you stepped back. You were in a home that Lucien had found for you and you knew that he’d most likely take it away from you.

“We accepted the bond a few months ago.” Elain’s voice was soft, and you understood why Lucien had fallen madly in love with her and wanted to work it out. You shook your head not understanding why they would wait so long to tell you this important information.

“I see.” You turned around and grabbed your go bag.

Even before Lucien had shown up with the others in tow you had planned to leave. But now you have more incentive to do so.

“Where are you going?” Lucien questioned, finally he spoke.

“I’m leaving.” You looked back at the male you thought would choose you over his mate, but you were wrong, so wrong. “I don’t know when what we had ended or how it ended. But I do know when I’m not wanted anymore. I should’ve left when you said you wanted to pursue another female that is your mate. I’m not her, I never will be. So I’m making this easy for you Lucien.” You walked over to the door barely glancing at Rhysand or Feyre. “You can keep the house.”

You stepped out of the house and walked over to the horse that was waiting on the side. Climbing on you took off just as the four ran out of the home trying to call your name. You ignored them all. You needed time to process the news you already knew was true. Years with him had been wasted, they were nothing. You were nothing to him but trash to toss aside.

Tears slipped down your face blurring your vision. But it didn’t give you a reason for you to stop. You continued on until you were finally back in Prythian. You’d ride until you could make it out of the Spring Court, hopefully you could avoid Tamlin’s guards. Though it was nice to see that he had finally been able to rebuild his Court. You didn’t make it far into the Spring Court when said guards appeared surrounding you and stopping your horse in its tracks.

You released a defeated sigh, held your hands in the air and dropped your head. There was no fight left in you, not right now at least. The guards dragged you deeper into the Spring court until you were face to face with Tamlin himself, though he wasn’t alone. A female stood by his side, you didn’t know who she was.

“High Lord.” You whispered, bowing your head to him. You were afraid of what he might do considering what he’d done in the past.

“I heard what happened. I’ve alerted Feyre and Rhysand of your arrival in my Court.” Tamlin’s voice ran through your ears and that was the last thing you’d expected him to speak to you.

“W-What? Why?” You were confused, so utterly confused. The female stepped forward, a soft smile on her face.

“Your mates are worried about you. You left in such a hurry they didn’t have a chance to get to you.” She answered. Now you were even more confused.

“My love, I don’t think Y/N knows that they’re mates.” Tamlin’s green eyes were on the female you assumed was his mate or maybe his lover.

“Rhysand and Feyre aren’t my mates. It’s not possible. I can’t have more than one mate.”

You were still processing the new information when Rhys and Feyre winnowed into the room. They were here with you in the Spring court. Both High Lord and Lady kneeled in front of you. Each reaching out with one hand to caress your cheeks.

“It is possible. It’s rare, but a mated pair of three, or a triad is very possible.” The female said.

“My mate, Luna, she’s spent most of her life researching mates and how bonds truly work between the Fae. She was the first one to notice that Rhys and Feyre were missing another part of themselves.” Tamlin spoke, Luna, the female you now knew to her be, gave a nod of approval to her mate’s words.

“When?” You asked.

“We truly didn’t know until Luna talked to us.” Rhysand whispered, keeping his violet eyes gazing into your eyes. He was searching for something in them, maybe searching to see if you’d run away again.

“But you have a family.” You just wanted to call it quits, you wanted whatever pain you were feeling to just be over.

“Yes, we have a family but it never felt complete. And now we know why.” Feyre said.

“Why?” Your lips trembled, afraid of the words that either might say. Too much had happened today, it was exhausting.

“Because you weren’t in it, you weren’t a part of the little family we have. Lucien kept you hidden from us. He thought Elain would truly reject the bond and he’d come back to you. We’d spent so long trying to figure out what was missing. And when he mentioned going back to you, we felt a tug but we didn’t understand any of it.”

“Why now?”

“Because you deserve to be happy too. Lucien knew that you’d run, we asked Tamlin to keep an eye out for you. We had to talk to you, to tell you what truth we had learned.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” You cried out. You stood up and backed away from them. “It’s not possible, this…” You cut yourself of staring at Rhysand and Feyre. They were hiding the hurt, but you could feel their pain. That was new, so new and it was overwhelming. “I just want to lie down.” As you said the words you felt your legs give out beneath you. However Rhysand was clutching onto you before you hit the grass.

“Let’s go back to the Night Court. You need some rest and time to heal before we discuss this.” Feyre whispered to you. You nodded, your hand gripping onto Rhysand’s arm tightly. Almost afraid that he’d disappear. He picked you up from the ground, your head rested on his chest. Feyre nodded her head and he disappeared.

“Thank you.” Feyre whispered to Tamlin and Luna. Tamlin gave a nod of his head while Luna stepped away from him and walked closer to Feyre.

“Y/N, will need both of you. This is going to be a lot.” Luna said.

“I know. Rhys and I will do everything to make sure that Y/N is comfortable with this. It’s going to take time, I know that much is true.” Luna smiled in understanding. Then Feyre said her goodbyes winnowing back to the night court.

───── ☾☾☾ ─────

Months had passed and you were still in the same state you’d been in since Rhys and Feyre had brought you home. They were worried about you now more than ever, not sure how to fix what Lucien had broken. You knew the bond had snapped for you but you will still try to process everything. Trying to process the fact that not only did you have one mate but you had two mates. They were High Lord and Lady and they had a son together. You didn’t understand how you could fit into their family when they had such a perfect family already.

Nyx had helped when they’d bring him in to visit you. You already had a bond with the child and sometimes it was hard to put Nyx down to sleep because he’d cry for you to be the one to put him down for a nap. But you were still so scared that you’d mess it all up, that you’d be abandoned again. Just like your parents had abandoned you, and just like Lucien had abandoned you.

You were so lost in your thoughts, stuck in your mind that never seemed to go to sleep when you needed it to, to hear the door of your room open and close. Rhys and Feyre thought it was best for you to have your own room until you were ready to take the next step. The relationship between the three of you was on your terms. A sob left your lips feeling the bed dip down on both sides. Feyre lied down in front of you while you hugged your blanket tightly. Rhys pressed his body against your back.

“We’re here for you Y/N.” Feyre whispered, a sad expression etching onto her face.

“I know.” You whispered, closing your eyes. Rhys and Feyre had been trying to get into your mind since you’d come home with them, but your shields were strong. You also weren’t letting them get into your mind, not yet anyway.

“It’ll be okay, love.” Rhys whispered into your ear.

“I just don’t understand how it ended, I mean I understand it. But there were never any signs, I never saw it coming.” You whispered, letting your tightening grip on the blanket loose. Feyre finally closed the gap between you and her, Rhys lifted a wing and covered himself, you, and Feyre with it in protection.

“Sometimes the relationships we thought were meant for just end without any signs. Sometimes there are better things out there for us.” Rhys said while Feyre nodded in agreement.

“Will it ever get better?” Rhys kept his gaze on both of his mates, though his eyes lingered on Feyre for a brief moment.

“Eventually, it will. All you can do is take it one step at a time. Rhys and I will be here through that process. When you're ready to accept the bond we’ll accept it. If you’re not ready then we’ll wait until you are.” Feyre paused, her eyes found yours and she could see the shock that was on your face. “You are worth every moment, worth every shared memory, worth waiting for.” Another sob escaped your lips.

“I don’t want to be abandoned again.” The fear of what had truly happened to you finally left your mouth. Feyre and Rhys wrapped their arms around you and huddled closer.

“You will never be abandoned, not by us. Not ever.” Rhysand said sternly.

“Promise?” You switched your gaze from Feyre to Rhys waiting for them to take back what they’d both said.

“We promise. You’re our mate, and we are yours. We’re in this together until the end of time. Until the Mother decides that our time is truly at an end.”

You gave a soft smile, though your lips were trembling and tears were slipping free. It was going to be a long journey but you knew you’d be able to come to terms with the past and move on for a better, happier future. And with Rhys and Feyre by your side it didn’t seem so scary anymore.

[tieronecrush]

the lakes

joel miller x reader

rating: M

word count: 1.9k

summary:

take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die / i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you / those windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry / i'm setting off, but not without my muse

warnings: nudity, skinny dipping, talk about grief, death, family tension, self-doubt, self-deprecation, idk man it’s just sad

a/n: my first song for the folklore anthology!! can’t wait to share others & read all the other great works from my pals <3

The sounds of birds chirping surround you in echoes across the valley, mountainous hills convexing in front of you and dotted with evergreens. Underneath you is sun-warmed sand, interspersed with smoothed rocks from rushing water shaping them over hundreds or thousands of years. The fresh, gentle waves of the lake lick against your bare feet, knees bent up as you sit at the shore, eyes trained ahead on the glassy surface reflecting the late summer sky above. Joel is sitting next to you in the same position, his hands joined together in a circle and forearms resting on his kneecaps.

It’d been a quiet hike to the spot you discovered while on patrol. Lately, Joel has been his own worst enemy — closed off to you, stewing in his thoughts about his strained relationship with Ellie and continuing to adjust to life in Jackson, a world so slow and still that he can’t seem to find a place he fits in after moving for so long. His inertia hasn’t caught up to his lifestyle change; he is constantly picking up patrol shifts, and volunteering to oversee new construction and renovations across the town, but even through his go go go, he can’t find a place to land.

This place was the perfect spot to take him; to abate the anxious energy that vibrates throughout him every day with the halcyon elements of nature. Animals that live their lives with no concept of time, a lesson in living in the present, trees that have been around for hundreds of years, solid and strong like the man himself, and the lake. The lake that provides for everything growing around it, that reflects beauty in sunrises and sunsets, that finds itself full no matter any barriers built in its feeding river, replenished by other means from rain to groundwater.

The silence between the two of you breaks for the first time in hours.

“You know what I first thought of you when I met you?” you question him, eyes trained forward on the view. Joel offers a soft grunt in response, hinting for you to continue.

“I thought: Wow, this guy is an asshole,” he scoffs with the hint of a smirk, shaking his head while your own grin plays at your lips, “But then, I got to know you. Forced proximity really tells you a lot about a person. And I very quickly learned how much you care. This world should have jaded you, should have broken you to the bone with what you have been through, but yet, you still find means to nurture. You protect, and you provide. You love so deeply, so incredibly much. Every day I wake up next to you, I thank the lucky stars that I have Joel Miller in my corner. By my side. Watching my back.”

“I know you are feeling something, thinking about something in that head of yours all the time. And I want you to know that I love you as deeply, that I care as much for you as you do for everyone in your life. You can share with me, whatever you feel like sharing.”

Joel is quiet, squinting in the sun as he tosses a round pebble from the sand between his legs into the shallow waters. The ripple appears and dissipates before he speaks.

“That sounded like a eulogy, darlin’.”

You scoff now, that same type of soft smirk that he held minutes before pulling the corners of your mouth up.

“Is that all you took from all of what I said?”

“No, ‘course not. Just, I don’t know, felt like I was listening to what you would say about me after I’m gone.” At that you turn towards him, hand wrapping around his nearest forearm and squeezing with even, steady pressure that says ‘We are not talking about that, I can’t talk about that.’

“I do wanna share with you, I just—I don’t know how. I’ve kept all this inside, locked down in my chest. Anger, temper, violence, even, as armor to keep me alive. Don’t ever think I’ve been very nurturing since, well, since…” His throat chokes up, head drops to stare at the ground. Another squeeze to his arm, this time to say ‘It’s okay. I know. You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.’

Something that he said sticks out in your head, a means to attempt to combat his walls going up again now that they have crumbled slightly. You stand, glancing around out of habit before you pull your shirt over your head, your jeans following with your undergarments in their wake. Joel looks up, expression puzzled as he watches your naked form wade into the water. You hiss as the still-icy water engulfs you from the shoulders down, treading and turning back to your man on the shore. A gentle smile covers your face, beckoning him in with one nod of your head.

He follows suit with stripping down, clothes mixing in a pile with yours as they do on the floor of your bedroom. His own pained expression from the cold lake makes you giggle quietly, a scolding stare aimed your way. He paddles over to you smoothly, the water hitting his chest where he can continue to touch with his feet at the bottom. Your arms slither around his neck, wet fingers carding through the hair at the back of his head. The leverage against him is used to tug you closer, his large palms settling at your waist under the surface while the two of you bathe in the fresh Adam’s ale of these cliffside pools. Two pairs of eyes communicate without words, the soundtrack of the birds and rustling trees occupying the dead air until you speak again, hushed despite the fact that you are the only humans for miles.

“You can take your armor off around me.”

Joel’s eyes flutter closed, a long sigh exhaled as his hands grip your curves tighter. When his burnt chestnut and amber irises are revealed again, he speaks in the same reserved volume that you had.

“I don’t belong there. In Jackson.”

Silence gently urges him to carry on.

“What I’ve done, to strangers, to myself, to Tess, to you, to Tommy, to Ellie…I don’t deserve any chance at life. With what I have taken from others, I don’t deserve to be given anything. Kindness, respect, care, love. From anyone.”

“I’ve been selfish this whole twenty years. I almost left Tommy alone. I dragged us up north to Boston. I got Tess into smuggling. I kept Ellie at a distance for so long because I couldn’t bear to feel that kind of responsibility, that familial tie. And then I chose for her, in that hospital. I couldn’t lose another kid.”

“It—it feels like I should be over the past, over what I have done now that I have a chance at a fresh start, or as close to a fresh start as I could possibly have here in Jackson. I have a shot to build a life with you, to work for Ellie’s forgiveness, to be an uncle to Maria and Tommy’s baby. But what has been chasing me — what has been over — it feels like it’s burrowed under my skin. And all I can feel when I start to forget is these—these heartstopping waves of hurt.”

“And I don’t know how to move on. I don’t know how to forget when my body, my mind, my soul won’t let me.”

Across his cheeks, salty tears have carved rivers, the dampness still in his eyes shining in the midday sunlight. The water sounds as if it’s rushing in your ear, your pulse racing as you attempt to process his confession. His head has bowed in a prayer position, awaiting your means to reconciliation or absolution.

Hands settled on his broad shoulders, another communicative squeeze, this one to say ‘I don’t know either. But I know how to try.’

“You let your people heal you,” Joel’s eyes meet yours, drops cascading from the damp bits of hair hanging over his forehead, attention completely and utterly on you, “Time can’t fix everything. The past can hold us in its grip even with all the time in the world. But people can help you forget. They can help to lessen the pain in your body until it’s merely a pinch. Their love can pull you up when you fall. Their care can nurture your soul to grow resilient again. Their reassurance can teach your mind to hear those sordid thoughts you have but pay them no attention.”

“I want to do this for you, Joel. I want to help you. To care for you. To love you, completely. Your people want to do it for you. And if you can learn from experience, you can do it for Ellie…” Your hands move from his shoulder, skating across his glistening skin and wrapping around the sides of his neck, thumbs resting against his jaw.

“You made choices you had to. Including for Ellie. She was — she is a child. Your kid, if not by blood. She may not understand now, but I know she will find a means to forgive you, or at least understand you.”

“Maybe when she’s older, if she has a kid of her own, she’ll understand.”

Joel’s mouth quips to one side with a faint smile, tears drying on his cheeks as he thinks of the image.

“Reckon we’d be pretty fun, well, sorta grandparents.”

“I think so, too,” you speak with a grin stretched and thumbs brushing back and forth at his jaw, “I can’t wait to grow old with you. To sit on the porch and watch you still yell across the street to your brother for full conversations instead of the two getting off of your asses —”

“Watch it, darlin’,” he warns playfully.

“Hey, it’s true. I listen to it nearly every day. Now, back to what I was imagining, cowboy.”

He nods for you to continue, a full-blown smile on his face.

“We’ll have Ellie over weekly dinners, and whoever else makes up her family. You’ll play me guitar and sing whenever I ask ‘cause you love me so much. I’ll help to heal you, and we will be happy together. We will take our second chance. And you will enjoy your time with your family. And me, hopefully.”

“Definitely with you. My beautiful girl,” his own hand leaves the water, wetting your hair as he brushes it out of your face with tender eyes, “You’re like—like a red rose that’s grown out of my ice-frozen ground. I am so lucky to have you. That you chose me, and continue to choose me every damn day. My grief sometimes feels insurmountable; like I am going to be stuck here forever with no way out of that feeling. But if I get stuck here, with you in my arms and all my people around me, I’d be fine if I simply grow old and wither away back into the earth.”

“I love you, darlin’. So much it might just end in tragedy, that my heart might just explode from lookin’ at you one day. But I do love you.”

A gentle kiss is shared between the two of you, the bitter water combined with your torrid love stirring up a tornado of tingling nerves.

You pull away, only enough to get the words out that you have told him, Joel, your man, every day and will continue to tell him every day you have him, “I love you.”

taglist: @wannab-urs @atinylittlepain @bearsbeetsbeskar @serenaxpedro @casa-boiardi @rav3n-pascal22 @dinsdjrn @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @johnwatsn @amanitacowboy @leeeesahhh @isitmelookin4u @javiscigarette @mrsyixingunicorn10 @sugarspiceanthrax @orphanbird95 @space-cowboy-like-me @tuquoquebrute @rsquared31 @morning-star-joy @canseethebrushstrokes @atremises @sstarboy777 @undrthelights @butiknewyoudlinger @dayrdreaming @disassociation-daydreams @joelsversion @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mydailyhyperfixations @diamndx @mingiast @kdogreads @blxsphemy7 @marchai @littlevenicebitch69 @ghostofbrock @iwrotethissky @ladynightingale @jksprincess10 @swiftispunk @pr0ximamidnight @beskarandblasters

[duckprintspress]

Learn More About the “Many Hands” Stories: Second-to-Last Teaser Post!

The crowdfunding campaign for our next anthology Many Hands: An Anthology of Polyamorous Erotica has only 9 days left, and we’re sharing three more teasers! These three are from the stories by Alex Bauer, enchantedsleeper, and D. A. Hernández.

-

Author: Alex Bauer Title: Wintersong

Excerpt:

Cam looks back to see Skylar leaning against the wall, still wearing Cam’s sweatshirt and what appears to be the world’s shortest pair of athletic shorts. Purple has blossomed across her thighs in sharp contrast to her milk-white skin. Baring her teeth in a wolfish grin, she whistles and gives several slow claps as she ambles stiffly forward. “Damn, did you come home with a fucking badger last night?”

Adrian flushes crimson all the way down to the scars on his chest before gesturing wildly at her legs. “Depends. Were you… shit—riding? Jockey?”

“Impressive fumble,” Cam says.

“I thought we were having a friendship moment,” Adrian hisses. “Back me up.”

“Friendship means I get free rein to tease you when you flop.” Cam leans back in their chair and crosses their arms, grinning when Adrian rolls his eyes with a muttered curse.

Skylar ruffles his bedhead before bending low, lips brushing his ear. “Who knew Parker had it in him?”

Adrian turns impossibly redder. “Skylar.”

“Oh, was it in you instead?”

-

Author: enchantedsleeper Title: Getting the Band Together

Excerpt:

“Wait, Alec, I think you’ve got the wrong idea,” Nat said, starting towards them, which immediately activated Alec’s fight-or-flight response. They jumped to their feet, but there was nowhere to actually go.

“I know it’s awkward having your ex-friend-with-benefits hanging around, and I don’t expect anything, but if you need me out of your ha-mph—”

That was as far as Alec got before Nat pulled them down to her level and kissed them. Alec was more than happy to kiss back, but… what?

Nat pulled away and smiled, holding their face in her hands. “Like I said, I think you’ve got the wrong idea about what I wanted to say.”

Alec stared at her and touched a hand to their mouth. Their brain was in overdrive. Nat coming here, cutting her date short to talk to them, Vincent standing there looking approving…

“So… you don’t want me to go,” they ventured.

“No,” Nat said, still smiling and flushed pink. “I’d actually like for you to be more involved, if you’re interested.”

“…does that mean I can kiss you again?”

In response, Natalie pulled them back in for another, much more thorough, kiss.

-

Author: D. A. Hernández  Title: The Seduction of Thierry Bacheler

Excerpt:

“Or you could watch while I seduce Thierry and listen to us having sex next door,” Aashiq said.

Yuka glared at him from the confines of her arms. Then she sighed. “It’s easy for you: you’re the University’s Casanova. Everyone knows of you, even if they don’t know you. Never found in classes, always in parties with at least two people in your arms.”

Aashiq shrugged. “Life is all the more beautiful with love around you. You need to give love an opportunity, if you ever want to find it.” He emptied the liquor bottle with a long swallow. Turning to face Yuka, he extended his hand in challenge, his eyes flashing gold. “A fortnight. You give it your all, and so will I. If by the end of it he’s not interested in either of us, we accept it and move on. What do you say?”

After a moment, Yuka shook his hand, and although there was no tingle of a spell or magical contract activating, she felt there was no going back.

Check out other teasers, peek at the merch, learn about the book, and become a backer by visiting our campaign on Kickstarter!

[shejustcalledmeafish]

I’m going to make you share Ianto audio opinions now :D Sorry I know there’s like 9 million of those

Dhhdhdhd you’re all good, everyone needs to know my hot takes on their favorite blorbo that is just A Guy

Fall to Earth: Very good! The beginning of a long saga of Ianto having audios with women who are cooler than him, also he’s a dumbass and Myfanwy has insurance now

Broken: honestly, this one is overhyped in my opinion. It’s still very good, but people scream so much about it and I’m like “…poodle goo”. That said, it is a classic, content warnings for depression and suicide attempt, but it’s really doing its best to establish the janto dynamic behind s1

The Office of Never Was: this one features a darker side of Ianto which is very interesting, but also I barely remember any of the details due to me listening ages ago, but like yeah I think it’s good

The Last Beacon: PEAK GO LISTEN IMMEDIATELY, beloved romp and Ianto-Owen character dynamics

Serenity: definitely my preferred Janto audio, dumbasses in the suburbs, violence and swinging attempts and Ianto just slowly losing his mind (affectionate)

Expectant: okay so this isn’t good. I wouldn’t even necessarily say it’s fun. There’s not even that much Ianto in it. But goddamn there’s something about it, so many things that are mentioned and not explored and there are slippers and whale songs okay (also gross birth noises so be warned)

Dinner and a Show: yes very good! just a good fun romp at the opera with aliens and cheap knock-off Welsh Prosecco

Ex Machina: genuinely such an interesting concept, unreality warning heavy, but I really enjoyed it

Rhys and Ianto’s Execllent Barbecue: oh my god this is literally a masterpiece on grief and masculinity and also there’s a cool time bubble and a guinea pig, mandatory listening

Coffee: fun and painful and just like, a lot of it is kinda basic but when it hits it HITS

The Great Sontaran War: okay genuinely a pretty solid one, goss needs to stop trying to write marginalized people, but there’s a sontaran in a trailer park with a cat named Group Marshal Cat and Ianto is just trying his best, so

The Grey Mare: okay it’s not bad, but it is a pretty basic spooky tale, I heard someone describe it once as a plot that it didn’t have to be Ianto, and that’s pretty fair

Restricted Items Archive Entries 031-049: this is my personal favorite honestly, both for the almost anthology type vibe of all the entries, and because this author Gets Ianto and it’s just so fun and also a bit ouchy as it should be

SUV and The Lincolnshire Poacher: okay, haven’t heard these, but based on vibes poached from my friends, SUV is good, and Lincolnshire Poacher is slowburn Ianto whump and I mean slowburn because he doesn’t show up for a while, so don’t expect him right away, but I’m not gonna write it off

The Torchwood Archive: very good, domestic janto in the most weirdest and in character way honestly, lmao

Outbreak: YES SO GOOD, be warned for a virus plot and scratching noises, but like worth it for all of the vibes, who doesn’t want to have your boyfriend try to murder you because he loves you and your best friend mock you for your shit tie, so good

Believe: okay so his plot is probably the most interesting/best one, but overall it’s really just not that good, not really worth it

Torchwood One: god fuck you Alyssa I forgot about these, okay okay

Before the Fall: technically individual stories, but it’s really more like one big one, Rachel be girlbossing

Machines: Blind Summit is the one for Iantotent, man sorta gets supersoldiered and everyone forgets about it, I personally really like 9 to 5, the premise Bangs. Also the law machines is here, it’s okay I guess

Latter Days: Retirement Plan lets Ianto James Bond it up, Locker 15 is solid, the Rockery isn’t a Ianto story but it is my favorite from the set so 😤

Nightmares: honestly, the best set, both My Guest Tonight (not a Ianto story), and Lola are very solid, LESS MAJESTY IS FARCE AND FUCKING HILARIOUS

TLDR: honestly he doesn’t really have a Bad one, but some are better than others :3

[tiger-moran]

Hello, I would just like to say I love your blog and while I've just started reading some of your fics, they have been very enjoyable. I was curious if you know any other basis or places for information on Moriarty and Sebastian that are not the Sherlock Holmes books or the movie (RDJ film), perhaps some other book I am not aware of.

Anyways, thank you and I'll definitely be looking forward to future work of yours. Your writing is quite interesting I must say.

Thank you very much anon.

There is not a huge amount of material for them unfortunately and there is even less if you want material that includes both characters in a meaningful way (i.e. as more than just a brief glimpse) and has them interacting positively. One or both of them turns up sometimes in published fiction or in films or TV shows but it's rarely in a major way.

I think I summarised my thoughts about the main books (and one short story) featuring them in this post (spoiler: most of my thoughts on these are not positive). A lot of other people would probably immediately say The Hound of the D'ubervilles. However I do not like The Hound of the D'urbervilles. The one I would say is the best because it features both characters in significant roles and has positive interaction between them is Michael Kurland's The Empress of India but with that you do have to bear in mind that Kurland's take is a very different one to the canon and very much his own universe (and having been attempting recently to reread his series, I can reconfirm that I don't actually enjoy the rest of the series that much. While I like Moriarty in it, it's far too focused on his original characters, Moran is barely in it apart from in Empress and even Moriarty is barely in some of the other stories for long stretches and when he is in it often he's interacting with characters I haven't got the slightest interest in or he's interacting with other characters such as Holmes in a manner I have no interest in either so a lot of the time I am quite bored by them).

There are some other published short stories involving one or both characters; sometimes they show up in some of these anthologies of new Sherlock Holmes related stories by various authors. Some I've read, some I haven't (and some of those I probably won't get to read because the books are just too expensive and not something I otherwise have any interest in and I can't obtain them elsewhere). I can't really say out of the ones I have read though that any of them really stood out as being particularly good or enjoyable.

There is the 1937 film Silver Blaze (also called Murder at the Baskervilles) which is reasonably faithful to the original story but includes Moriarty in it and also has Moran in it. It's no cinematic masterpiece or anything but considering that they are the 'bad guys' they got more interaction than I would have expected and did at least seem to get along (and I do still believe that in some ways Moriarty and Moran in that were probably an influence on Moriarty and Moran in A Game of Shadows).

Both characters do appear in other adaptations too of course, like the Granada/ITV series. But not together. Also I don't actually like Moriarty in that and though I like Moran in it, his role is very limited. They could have done a lot more with him but... didn't. (They were both in the Soviet series too and Moriarty was in the Russian series from a few years back also but I didn't like either of them and considering what Russia has been doing I'd prefer to just kind of... ignore those.)

(There may be other stuff that I can't really comment on like there's a podcast thing called The Devil's Game or something like that? Which apparently has both of them in? But I can't listen to it so unless someone provides a transcript of the entire thing sometime I'll never know what happens in that or how it portrays them. And I suppose some people might say that Moriarty the Patriot thing but I can say with 100% certainty without watching a single moment of it that that is very definitely Not My Thing.)

[n0wornever]

Big Reputation - Luke Patterson x Reader

Can u do a luke x reader where luke pretends to be a bad student (helps with his rockstar reputation) but is actually really good at school subjects. The reader has been having trouble in a class and luke is recruited by the teacher to tutor her? 

I LOVE THIS IDEA I’M SQUEALING, THANKS ANON, I hope you like it!

“Y/N, I’m sorry...there isn’t much else I can do to help you dear,” Ms. Clementine said, staring up at the girl with wide eyes. “All my tutoring sessions are booked up for the next week or so, but I will try to definitely get you in the next time around?”

The girl nodded, sliding her test with bright red F spilled across the top back into her hands. She had failed another math test and she was certain that her mother was going to go ballistic as soon as she walked in the door and showed her the most recent mark she’d received. She really did try to focus this time, but her brain couldn’t seem to calculate the formulas correctly no matter how hard she tried. 

“The good news is, is that we still have several other homework assignments and three more tests coming up, you have a lot of time to make up your grade.”

Y/N tried to gather her burgeoning negative thoughts as she forced a smile onto her face. She held the paper to her chest as she paced quickly toward the door. As her eyes turned toward the open hallway, her path was blurred by a vision in all black. 

She recognized the boy in front of her, Luke Patterson. His band had recently made their big break and opened for a late night show at The Orpheum and ever since, the school had been buzzing about the band members. He was in three of her classes, and although he seemed very charismatic on stage, he sat pretty still in class. She did take note that his posse was absent from this course, and they were rarely ever seen away from each other. Her eyes fell to the rings resting against his knuckles that were pinched in a soft fist and his chain that rattled against his black cargo pants before her view shifted to his face. 

Luke studied her with cautious eyes, his lips pulled straight across in an emotionless gaze. She quickly pointed her attention back toward the door and started walking faster. As she finally hit the open doorframe, a voice called her back inside the room.

“Y/N, wait just a moment please.” 

She spun around on her heels, eyes falling on the teacher’s beckoning hand. She walked slowly up to her desk, keeping her distance from the brooding student that stood to her left. Ms. Clementine pointed at Luke with a smile before addressing her again.

“Y/N, you know my star student Luke Patterson... right?” 

Star student? She questioned internally. It wasn’t that she had ever thought that Luke was dumb. She took notice to how quickly he finished exams and how often people asked to be paired with him for group work, but she assumed it was always to schmooze him for tickets to the next Sunset Curve show, not to raise their grades. Luke’s lyrics were always ripe with rebellion, so the idea of the eyeliner-clad, angst-driven teen being anything more that sticking to the status quo in terms of high school academia. 

The older woman pointed between the two students, that knowing grin still laid on her face. 

“I have an idea that may help both of you,” She said as she tapped her pen against the wood desk below her.

“Y/N you do need help with raising your grades...”

Y/N shifted her weight to her other foot as she listened to her teacher talk, refusing to make eye contact with the boy she could already feel staring at her. 

“And Patterson over here needs a stellar recommendation letter to get into that ivy league program.”

The girl’s eyes shifted over to him, his falling toward the window. Ivy league? She wasn’t even sure that Luke would go to college with the band taking off. Y/N’s eyes fell onto the reddish hue that took over the boy’s neck as he continued to refrain from making eye contact. Y/N looked back over at her teacher, who shook her head at the boy before shifting her eyes back to the girl.

“So I think that it would be a perfect plan for both you and for Luke here,” The boy’s eyes fell back toward the conversation at hand. “Is for him to be your new tutor!” 

Luke opened his mouth seemingly to protest, but Ms. Clementine placed her hand up, silencing him. 

“Luke, I would be able to writing a glowing review of the extra time that you took to help a fellow student, and Y/N here could pass my class with flying colors with your assistance!” The woman clapped her hands in glee as she spoke.

Y/N’s gaze crawled over to him again. His eyes were firmly planted on the floor with his fists now tightly wound at his sides. The room went silent for a moment as neither student replied. Y/N looked back over to her teacher with pleading eyes and the older woman turned to the boy. As she was about to speak, Luke’s head perked up and he nodded. 

“Are you free at 3 on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays?” 

The girl swallowed hard, unable to formulate her next thought. Instead, she simply nodded in his direction. His gaze swirled around her face for a moment before her gave her a quick smile. If she would have blinked, she’d probably had missed it. But it’s quick presence still sizzled enough to warm her cheeks.

“Cool, I’ll meet you at the library then, starting today.” 

With that he stuck his hands in his pockets and moved toward his desk. Y/N turned to the right to thank her teacher before scurrying out of the classroom. Her brain started spiraling the moment she entered the crowded hallway, her eyes searching for her best friend Grace. 

She saw the girl leaning against the stairwell in front of her, scrolling through her phone. Y/N practically ran to her friend, almost taking her down to the ground as she grabbed the girl’s arms as she reached her. Grace looked at her wide-eyed with a smirk on the left side of her face sliding forward at the nervous state Y/N presented back to her, hands. shaking at her sides as she released her grip on her. 

“What is up with you, incredible hulk,” Grace asked, rubbing up and down on her arms.

Y/N pulled her into the less rowdy side hallway in a huff. The girl pulled her taller friend behind her, leading her to the outdoor plaza in the middle of the school, Grace giggling as she trailed along. As they made it to their final destination, she leaned against the window as she crossed her arms at her chest, waiting for her best friend’s urgent answer. Y/N took a second to catch her breath before talking.

“I,” She took in breath of fresh air, pointing a finger toward her awaiting friend. “Ms. Clementine assigned a new tutor to me to help with my grades.”

Grace rolled her eyes “That’s what all this fuss is about?”  

Y/N shook her head, leaning next to her friend. She turned to face her with wide eyes.

“My tutor is, Luke Patterson.”

Grace’s mouth gaped open, staring at the girl. She pushed off the wall and walked in front of her friend. 

“You mean Sunset Curve’s Luke Patterson?” She tapped her finger against her chin. “Huh, I never took him for a scholar.”

“Me either,” Y/N whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Why are you so nervous? You two barely know each other...” Grace asked with an eyebrow raised.

Y/N sighed loudly. She knew that she barely knew him, but that’s exactly what made it so nerve-wracking. She was okay hanging out one-on-one with people she knew quite well, but the second she was left alone with a stranger she froze like an icicle in the middle of December.

“Exactly Grace! I don’t know him, you remember the last time with that group project?” 

Grace nodded, letting a little giggle escape her lips “You mean when you almost had a panic attack on Reggie’s kitchen floor because he asked you what you thought about the slideshow he created?”

“EXACTLY,” Y/N was shouting at this point, running her hands through her hair.

Grace looked at her friend with a sympathetic smile. She moved back over to the window to sit next to her, the girl’s head falling onto her shoulder. 

“It will be okay love, you can text me at any moment you’re feeling anxious, and excuse yourself to the bathroom. I’ll stick around for an hour after school just to make sure you’re alright.” 

Y/N took a deep breath, mumbling a thank you in her best friend’s direction and Grace placed a kiss on the girl’s head. 

Y/N headed over to the library exactly five minutes before three. As she walked in, she waved at the librarian that often let Grace and her avoid the cafeteria by turning a blind eye as they ate their sandwiches in between the stacks. Finding an open spot by the window, she set her bookbag on top of the empty table. She took out her textbooks and sank down, finally let herself rest against the chair.

At exactly 3 p.m., he walked in. He met her gaze with wide eyes, shaking his head at her. She tilted her head to the side as she watched him speedwalk toward her. He grabbed her book off the table and tapped against the hardwood.

“Nope, too public, come on.”

She stood up and grabbed her bag, throwing it over her shoulder, rushing to keep up with him. She followed him down the narrow corridor toward the bathrooms. She furrowed her brows in confusion as Luke turned to her. He pointed at a door on the lefthand side and then stepped forward to push it open. The small stairwell led them down to the basement where a lot of the archived newspapers and anthologies were stored. Y/N could smell the books as soon as she entered the room, letting her eyes closed as she breathed in their scent. 

Luke slammed her book down on the table near the film reading machine and smiled sheepishly at her. She moved toward the other side of the table and sat down without another word. Luke eased into the chair across from her, leaning his head against his fist resting on the table.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly.

She turned to meet his eyes, biting down on her bottom lip. “Is this where you kill me?” 

Luke’s face broke out into a full smile at that point, unable to hold back the full-blown cackle that racked through his ribs. She watched as his head fell back as he laughed, letting a small smile fall onto her lips too. As he rose to meet her eyes again, the smile stayed.

“You’re funny, huh?” 

When she didn’t answer, he spoke up again. “I don’t want people to getting the wrong idea.”

“What, that you’re a secret genius? How terrible!” 

She shrugged, pursing her lips as her shoulders rose. Luke’s jaw locked as he looked at her for another moment, a smirk rising to the right side of his face. 

The silence hung a bit too long and Y/N knew her cheeks were growing redder by the minute. She shifted her focus back to the textbook below her.

“So, where do you want to start?” 

She forced her eyes to meet his again and his regular scowl was back in rotation. He placed his pencil behind his ear, looking off into the corner of the room for a moment before holding her gaze again.

“Next week’s quiz is the last one on chapter 9, so let’s start there.” 

She nodded at him, flipping the book open and diverting her gaze to the pages of text. She heard his voice ask a question over her head.

“What’s the most difficult question for you on the last homework assignment?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, if she was honest, she’d say all of it. But she knew they only had an hour a day, three days a week. So she pulled out her marked up piece of notebook paper. She tried to hold it close to her  to hide the red from his eyes, but she knew the marker ran through the paper. She gave in and laid the paper flat on the table, and pointed to the fourth problem in the first row.”

“Probably question D, I don’t even remember her talking about this ever??” 

He leaned over her shoulder, looking at her paper. She tried not to think about the woodsy aroma of his cologne that wafted close to her as he did, trying to focus her attention the paper shaking in her hand.

“Ahhh no, that’s a tough one.” 

He leaned back over to his side, pulled out his red folder and brought out the same worksheet. She watched as he looked over his work before turning to her again. He looked over to her paper and read over the equation she had written. Y/N let her eyes gaze over to the clock on the wall, not wanting to watch as he realized how terrible she really was at math. 

“You literally made the tiniest mistake,” he said with a chuckle. 

She turned her head and looked at him, his crooked smile directed right at her. She look of confusion fell into a pout as she tilted her head at him. He pointed down at the paper and walked her through the entire problem. As they reached the end, Y/N fell back into her chair with a groan.

“You’re literally telling me I just forgot to carry the 1?” She said as she nervously gnawed at the end of her pencil. 

He squinted one eye as he braced for his next statement. “Afraid so, that seems to be the only issue with your process.”

She lifted her head to the ceiling, shaking it as she laughed angrily at herself. As her gaze fell back to the table, she saw him already looking at her with a strange look, his eyes were wide and the line across his forehead sat tensed.

“What?” She asked, letting her hands rest on the table.

“You’re a little too hard on yourself.”

That statement sent a shock through her system. His soft eyes and worried gaze was galaxies beyond what she expected Luke Patterson to be like. Her eyes fell to his hand where his fingers anxiously tapped against the table. He was waiting for her to respond. She pulled herself together, meeting his eyes again with a forced grin pulling at her lips.

“No, it’s just that....I’m just really bad at math.”

Luke peered over to her paper again and her heartbeat rose. She watched as he scanned all the bright little dots and checkmarks before returning his eyes back to her face.

“No, like a lot of this stuff is really easy to fix.” His hand moved to point at a problem. “You just get to about the middle and slip up a bit, which derails the final answer. Totally fixable, you’re on the right track.”

She shook her head at him “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He let out another laugh, eyes crinkling at the impact. “Did you expect me to be terribly mean?”

She paused for a moment, word vomit spilling out from her mouth without giving her a warning. 

“Honestly? Yeah, a little bit.”

Luke brought his elbow up to the table, letting his cheek rest inside his hand. He let a small smile spread across his face as he looked at her, biting down on his bottom lip. 

“I do love to prove people wrong, so I’m going to take your wide-eyed look of confusion as a compliment.” 

She immediately dropped her gaze, giggling down at the table. She looked back up and his eyes were on the stacks, monitoring the collection of old papers that lined the shelves. 

“You know, I don’t think it makes you less rock and roll to be good in school,” She finally said, her tone coming out in a soft whisper. “You don’t need to hide in the basement of the library.” 

His gaze pointed back at her and she immediately stiffened. She had pushed too far, she thought as she looked at his pensive face. But a smile fell onto his cheeks quickly after, sending a sigh of relief though her.

“You’re probably right,” He admitted, leaning back in his chair. “But I’m not necessarily hiding anymore with you here.”

The left side of her mouth rose as she held his gaze. The two sat in silence, staring dreamily at one another for a moment. Finally Luke broke the silence by clearing his throat and looking at toward her worksheet again. 

“Ready to try another one?”

She let her eyes fall on his side profile for a moment before responding.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

She waited to hear that chuckle again before looking down at the paper in front of her again. 

.

.

.

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[wandasallerdyce]

Twilight Time - Steve Harrington

Pairing - Steve Harrington x M! Reader

Fandom - Stranger Things

Requested - yes/no

Warning(s) - one cuss word, all fluff

Notes - ugh, I’m a whore for this man 😩. But n e ways I was listening to Twilight Time earlier and said fuck it I’m writing for my best boi Steve. Also an upload two days in a row?! Woah! (p.s. I haven’t watched ST in a while so sorry if it’s cringe 😗)

(GIF not mine)

Steve was nervous to say the least. In just a few moments, you’d be walking down the makeshift isle the kids had made for your guys’ wedding. When you had told them that you guys were planning to get married in secret due to the law not letting you guys get legally married, they were excited and instantly asked to decorate the small part of the woods were you’d be hosting the wedding. And of course you guys said yes (more like were forced to).

Heavenly shades of night are falling, it's twilight time

When Steve had proposed to you, you guys had gone out to go stargazing. He was fascinated that you knew so much about the stars. He loved how the moonlight fell on your (s/c) face, making it glow beautifully. At this point, Steve was still wondering if he should go along with the plan. He knew both of you guys were young. He was 20 while you were 19. He didn’t want to tie you down to him when you could go to college and succeed in life.

Steve couldn’t help it though. Ever since he first saw you walk in through the doors at school, he was instantly enamored with you. He knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. When he finally went to talk to you, it was during a party. He was nervous as hell and was barely able to stutter out a “H-Hey I’m Steve. Steve Harrington.” To add on to the awkwardness, he did hand guns after.

You simply giggled and decided to flirt with him a little. “Harrington, huh? Got a nice ring to it. It’d be even nicer if it was next to my name.” You replied with a smirk. He instantly choked on air and went beet red in the face. ‘Smooth. Real smooth’ he instantly thought. He straightened his composure and shirt and replied “would you like to get out of here?” whilst offering you his hand which you instantly held. “Sure, why not?” You said while smiling. Needless to say, you guys ended up having a steamy make out session in his car.

Steve just couldn’t get enough of your lips. They were so plump and soft, unlike any other lips he had ever kissed. If it were even possible, he fell in love with you even more. Eventually, after a few more make out sessions, he had the courage to ask you out on a date, which you instantly agreed to. Ever since then, you’ve both always been together.

When purple colored curtains mark the end of day I'll hear you, my dear, at twilight time

Some nights, Steve would climb up to your window and get in bed with you after a rough day. You’d hear him out and hug him tightly if he starts crying. Steve loves you for that. He loves that he can count on you whenever he needs help.

When he gets the job at Scoops Ahoy, you become a regular and tease Steve, who’s in his uniform. “Look at the cute boy in the sailors outfit!” You say while sighing dreamily. “Stop it!” He replies back, going instantly red. Meanwhile, you compliment Robin’s outfit which got a pout from Steve. “You’re still cute nonetheless, Stevie.” You tell him while giving him a quick kiss which instantly brings a smile to his face. “Exit the break room.” Robin simply replies.

Deep in the dark your kiss will thrill me like days of old Lighting the spark of love that fills me with dreams untold

And here you guys were, looking at the stars together, laying on one of his blankets on top of his car. He turned his body to look at you with you doing the same. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He asked, staring at you lovingly. “Nope.” You replied, giggling softly, which earned you a playful eye roll.

“No, but seriously, I really love you. Your beautiful (e/c) eyes, your unique personality, basically, everything about you is amazing. I love you. I love how you listen to all my problems, letting me vent out all my problems, yes, I even loved how you teased me in the sailors outfit and,” he shakily pulls out the ring, which causes you to gasp. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So what do you say, (y/n)? Want to officially- unofficially get married?” He asks, and gulps right after. ‘Maybe I rushed it too fast’ he thinks.

“Of course Steve! Yes!” You exclaim, jumping into his lap which earns an oof from Steve. He smiles the biggest smile he’s ever done and slips the ring onto your finger and kisses you deeply. You pull away and look at the ring until you notice the similarity.

“Wait, did you get this from the machine at the store we were at the other day?”

“Yes?” He said, nervously.

“Eh, I love it anyway. It’s perfect.” You said and went back to kissing him.

Here, in the afterglow of day, we keep our rendezvous beneath the blue

Now, here he was, in the present day, at the same spot in the woods where he proposed to you. It had also become the place where you guys would get married unofficially. He was nervous to say the least. He was constantly tapping his foot to the point where Mike slapped him in the arm to stop him. Jonathan was his man of honor. Sure, it was a bit weird but they had become close friends ever since the demogorgon shit ended.

Meanwhile, Robin was your maid of honor. Ever since you walked into Scoops Ahoy for the first time, you instantly became best friends with Robin and saw her as the sister you never had. You guys would constantly team up and annoy Steve together which he would laugh at at first but eventually it got too overwhelming as both of you were good at pranks.

Max walked in with a bell and rang it too many times to count, but got the message through that it was time to start. Steve’s breath hitched as he saw you walk in. You looked so handsome in the white clothes you had picked out and he fell even harder for you. Hopper was walking you down the aisle and would also serve as the officiant. He didn’t even realize you had reached the center and were holding his hands.

He stared into your shining (e/c) eyes while reciting his vows which made him feel lucky as he’d be able to look at them everyday he’d wake up. After reciting your guys’ vows and sharing a kiss, you simply told him, “Guess “Harrington” did make it into my name.” He smiled as he looked at you, reminiscing about your guys’ first conversation.

Here in the sweet and same old way, I fall in love again as I did then

After the ceremony, Steve drove both of you to your guys’ new house. It was small but homey at the same time. When you guys arrived, Steve opened the door for you, picked you up and walked you guys inside. It was beautiful from the inside. You had already bought some furniture to accommodate it to your guys’ liking. Steve set you down and went to turn on the small radio you had sitting on a coffee table. Instantly, Twilight Time by The Platters started playing.

Steve moved closer to you and put a hand on your waist and held the other one, while you placed your free hand on his shoulder. You guys started dancing across the living room, matching the rythym of the song. He would dip you and move you guys across the room. As the song ended, he dipped you one last time, brought you back up and placed a deep kiss on your lips. “I’ll never get tired of this. I love you, (y/n) Harrington.”

“I love you too, Steve Harrington.”

FIN

[stxleslyds]

MY TOUGHTS ON PART FOUR OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY :)

THIS ONE IS A MESS.

But first a little rant about my feelings about Red Hood in general at the moment.

I am not going to lie, it took me a long time to read this comic, I am kind of tired of reading this book, I feel like I lower my expectations each issue that passes by and I still get disappointed at the result.

Maybe I just love a Jason Todd that is no more and I have to accept the one we have now, but here is the thing, if this is what we get then I just don’t like it, and on rough days I hate it. These are very negative thoughts about one of the two DC characters that I love and I don’t enjoy having them, I don’t want DC to keep giving us this version of Jason or these versions of Jason, each time they change little things that just change the character from the one that he once was even more.

I feel a bit defeated about it and I don’t know, on one side I want to fight and scream so they can finally give Jason the characterization he deserves and for them to give up the bland formula they have going on with him and on the other side I just want them to stop, stop writing Jason Todd/Red Hood and that is so sad, imagine loving a character and wanting the publisher to stop making content with them because what they give is just terrible. I don’t know, this is a rant that I felt like writing before I read the issue (I did skimm it briefly), so don’t take this as part of the review, its just me explaining my feelings right now.

Anyway, I will start the review now, sorry for the rant.

Wonderful, this book is on crack (or should I say Cheerdrops?), the thing with this particular issue is that I had a great laugh, it’s funny but in a good way, it's stupid and it kind of doesn’t make sense, the only way to describe Zdarsky’s writing here is with a phrase that we say here in my country “se pisa el palito”, which means that he lies about something and after some time he reveals the truth himself by mistake or because he got confused, in this case Zdarsky makes Jason say something like “this time I have come prepared” but he is actually not prepared at all and like two pages later (within the same scene) he has Jason call himself an amateur, it's very weird and to me it translates to Zdarsky not liking Jason or just not caring about him at all.

And that sucks and it really bothers me. As I have said before this anthologies book might be called Batman: Urban Legends but the particular story I am reading is a RED HOOD one, I am not here for Batman content, I am here for Jason Todd content.

The fact that we are not getting a Jason-specific story in a Red Hood book is killing me, it would suck if we get, let’s say, a Nightwing book and its all about his relationship with Barbara…That is not a Nightwing book, that’s a Nightwing and (fake) Oracle book.

Anyway, this issue in general is like a connector, the things that happen are all happening because they will be developed in the next issues but what is said here is absolutely absurd so I will be talking about that.

This issue starts with a flashback and Jason from the present (who is currently a popsicle because he fell in Freeze’s trap) having a monologue. The flashback is set when Jason finds out that his birth mother is alive and is being used by the Joker so he (in civilian clothes) and Batman at doing some reckon. What I want to dive into is the monologue because it's interesting but also very dumb so here we go.

“What was I supposed to do? I thought I was an orphan; I carried that sadness and anger everywhere I went and then I found the woman who gave birth to me halfway across the world. I found her…and the Joker. He was blackmailing my mother, forcing her to help him steal medical supplies, which he replaced with a deadly gas, that was being hauled to a village.”

“Batman knew what he had to do. Save people, forever saving people. Batman has always been a master of control, every situation, everyone around him. He’s always known just how to handle everything. Until I came along.”

“How could he be surprised? How could the great Batman not know? I wouldn’t listen to him and he couldn’t hear me. And the fucking cycle continues.”

The first part of the monologue is pretty simple it's basically setting the scene in time and space for the reader and it also gives us a little insight on how Jason was feeling at the time which was quite nice. It sets up the fact that Jason wanted to help his birth mother out of a horrible situation, he wanted to save her from the Joker. (Hear that DC, haters and fanon, Jason was a good Robin and a loving and caring son!!!!!)

In the second paragraph of the monologue I would have assumed that Dick never existed in this universe because the idea of Batman being able to control Robin!Dick or Gotham back in the day by himself is incredibly funny to me but because Dick exists and has been mentioned in this story already I will just take it as Zdarsky wanting to really push the “Jason could never reach the level of good Robin because he was reckless and nothing like Dick” and the “Dick was always completely obedient and Batman’s perfect little soldier” narratives. It sucks man, this is like bad fanon made real and I don’t like it!

During this part we also have a little dialogue between Batman and Jason where the narrative of Jason being so incredibly reckless is explicitly shown once more.

Let me repeat myself, Jason didn’t take on the Joker because he wanted to prove himself to the Bat or to prove that he was as good a Robin as Dick was, Jason did what he did because he wanted to save the last person that he had that he felt was family, he wanted to save the woman who birthed him and that he was hoping he could call a mother. He worried and cared for this woman and then he was betrayed and it ended up ending with him dying at the hands of a mad man that to this day is still alive.

Jason wasn’t reckless for the sake of being reckless, he took the decisions he took because he didn’t feel heard by the man that was supposed to protect him and care for him, a man that had the same feelings of sadness over being an orphan, a man that despite being the greatest detective to ever detective in the multiverse couldn’t understand that Jason felt like the woman that was his birth mother could come first in his list of priorities. Jason was a child and the adult responsible of him at the time bares the fault of his death as much as the mad man that committed the crime.

There, I fucking said it.

Gladly in the third paragraph of the monologue Jason calls out Bruce on his bullshit.

Also, what the hell was Bruce thinking leaving Jason stranded in the middle of the dessert, the man literally takes the only mode of transportation away from him. What the hell.

That’s it for the first glimpse at the past, now we are in the present with Ice!Jason where Zdarsky lies to our faces, he says that Jason is prepared for this situation…I am sorry but I do not believe this.

Anyway, Jason does manage to break the ice but he trips on the iced floor almost as soon as he breaks free and falls in a hole. Are you kidding me? I know this is supposed to be funny but Jason has been written as this incompetent dumbass in this book so much that this is just insulting.

He manages to escape for three or four seconds but he realises once more that the whole thing was a trap because Freeze had actually closed all the exists with ice because he meant to trap the Bat (also maybe Freeze is under the effects of Cheerdrops?), Jason also tries to use his guns even though he had already thought about the fact that they wouldn’t fire because of the cold AND he didn’t pack his explosives, yeah… “I am now prepared”, sure Jan.

The last thing we see in this scene is Freeze getting ready to ice Red Hood once more before we start jumping from past to present scenes as Jason’s monologue continues, he does that a lot in this issue, it’s quite impressive.

We jump into the past and we see Jason going to help his mother in his Robin suit, her betrayal and the Joker being ready to torture and kill a child. From there we go back to the present where Jason manages to ask Oracle for help but not anyone’s he asks for the Batman’s help.

First let’s talk about the monologue that happens across these scenes because it has some interesting takes.

“Stupid amateur, its not going to be okay, not if we keep repeating the same mistakes. He never trusted me, I never trusted him. Neither of us lived up to the idea of ‘Batman and Robin’, the ‘Dynamic Duo’. Because Batman and Robin requires trust, it requires knowing you can’t do it alone.”

Let’s be honest as per the modern take on Batman and Robin (if it includes Bruce as Batman) the dynamic is quite dysfunctional, Batman doesn’t know how to care for a child and children shouldn’t be responsible for an adult’s safety, so the whole thing has been weird for every Robin, its not something that happened only to Jason but here is the thing, in Under the Red Hood (which is canon in this story) when Batman and Red Hood fought side by side Bruce said the following: “…Neither of us has the strength to take him out, it will require skill and teamwork. It happens before I have time to question it, a manoeuvre that comes without thought, executed as practiced and practiced many times in the cave.”

So, him and Jason worked well, they trusted each other and the work they were doing but that is not all, because they are in the middle of a fight the Red Hood doesn’t act recklessly and takes the opportunity attack the Bat when he is vulnerable, he sticks to the coordinated fight because he trusts it will work. Batman’s thoughts confirm that because he continues saying this: “To complete it (the manoeuvre) I’m forced to leave myself unprotected from an attack, an attack from the Red Hood. But the attack never comes, he just takes cover from the blast, like practiced.”

– Batman: Under the Red Hood, chapter 10.

This thing alone, written in 2005 kills the narrative of Bruce’s Batman and Jason’s Robin not working well together.

Secondly, I have to laugh about what it's actually said in the very last panels. I am sorry but it's too funny to me, I know it acts as a parallel to Jason asking for the Bat when he was about to die but this is a man, a grown man that has experience on this job, this situation would have never happened if Jason was written fairly. This is funny because of all the people in the world I would never imagine the Red Hood asking for Batman’s help. Fuck that.

Oracle of course contacts Batman but let me say something really quickly, Barbara and Bruce are both acting like Jason getting in trouble and needing help is an annoyance. What the hell is wrong with these people? Why would Jason work with Oracle or Batman in the first place?

Batman gets in the Batmobile as soon as he can and dares call Jason his son. No thank you sir, I will not be taking that kind of bullshit today. Anyway, the Bat also has a monologue because he can’t be less, here it goes.

“Jason. Dammit, son. I’m on my way, I won’t let you…” (explosions) “You’re alive. In the here, in the now. I know this, like magic…with a curse…You’re alive.”

“I don’t need to be there again, in the past. I’ve learned my lessons, the guilt doesn’t help me, it doesn’t have a hold on me anymore. You’re alive, Jason and I intend to keep it that way.”

To this I have to say the following, the only reason why Bruce is not feeling guilty about what happened to Jason is because Jason forgave Bruce/Batman for not arriving in time in order to save Jason from the explosion back in that warehouse all those years ago. Jason forgave Bruce when the final confrontation happened in UtRH. He did it because he believed that Bruce tried and still didn’t make it.

- Batman: Under the Red Hood, chapter 13.  

And something else, Bruce might have been “keeping Jason alive” but he has harmed him. Rebirth RHatO #25 exists, I don’t know if it's canon within this particular story but I can’t not bring it up if this is what this man has to say.

My take on the Batman and Red Hood relationship is that it shouldn’t exist. Red Hood is not a Batman villain but he IS a Batman antagonist. STOP making Batman and Red Hood work together, with how things ended in UtRH Jason would never work with Bruce again. I am sorry but the concept of the Batfamily with Jason as a willing participant is the biggest lie this fandom and Lobdell gave us.

Enough of my takes, let's go back to the issue because it's ending is closer and the funniest panels in this whole ass book are coming!

Batman does Batman shit and as he grapples out of the Batmobile, he manages to get Ice!Jason out of a truck and everything comes to a stop, the bad guys come out of said vehicle and one of them is going in Red Hood's direction with the intention of killing him, Batman of course saves Jason and starts fighting the rest of the baddies.

I will show you funny panel number one.

You really want to make me believe that Bruce can pull that move, shut up!!!! There is no way! That’s some Nightwing level of leg work, stop it, if the Bat pulls that move he will break something or get stuck like that…

Ahh it doesn’t matter because as Batman finishes defeating all the baddies he goes to Jason’s side and here is where funny panel number 2 comes!

STOP IT, WHAT THE HELL IS THISSS? I am losing my mind over this, have you ever seen something and thought “oh this is wrong wrong” like what? This interaction is so wild to me, everything about it makes no sense…Imagine putting Jason Todd in such a vulnerable position that he is, I don’t know, happy or glad that the Bat showed up and that Batman would say that he will always be there for Jason, this shit is hilarious.

But that’s not the end, at this point nothing should shock me (as far as character designs) but this dude shows up…

Who the hell is this guy, and why does he look like that, why are all these new character designs the same and horrible? He reminds me of the weird discount-Joker-looking dude that we had in Rebirth RHatO #52

Anyway, the new dude that will be called Cheer (apparently) and Freeze ice Batman as well and that’s it, our Red Hood related suffering is over up until next month!

This one, this one was wild, I don’t know what else to say about it…I am honestly drained after reading the issue and writing this.

Let me know what you thought about this issue and if you want to read my reviews of the previous parts I will link them here! Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3!

[respect-the-fae]

Things that remind me of: Ares

Sorry it's been a few days, life has been kind of a bitch, but I'm back with a post for my patron, Ares! I love him so much! This is gonna be a long one, I'll warn you now.

Weaponry. All weaponry. Whether it be a sword, a bo staff, escrima sticks or even sharp words falling off a tongue and destroying what they are aimed at. All weapons of every nature are this and remind me of him.

Boxing. I box alot, it reminds me of him and helps me feel close to him. How warm I feel, the ache in my arms, the bruises that form across my hands, the sweat dripping down my forehead. It all feels like he's there guiding me, reminding me to keep my guard up, and to keep my thumb out of my fist so I don't shatter it.

Red candles.

Bloodied hands and bruises. The type you get when your sibling gets beat up by the bigger kids and you go to sort them out because as annoying as your little sibling is, no one (NO ONE) messes with them.

Pink gin. Trust me, pink gin might seem like a weird one, but I have seen my mate single handedly knock out 2 guys who were threatening a trans girl while on pink gin. Pink gin is the Elixir Of Protective Rage and no one can tell me otherwise. (Dw, the girl is safe and we walked her home. We got takeout on the way and i cried bc she gave me a chicken nugget. We're friends now.)

Hunger Games, Divergent, Maze Runner. All about destroying their awful governing systems and rising up. Very Ares.

Using dumbass as a term of affection. With the same amount of love that people usually use when calling someone sweetheart or darling.

BIG HERO 6.

The concept of egging someone's house.

Snakes.

Having long baths/showers to avoid dealing with your emotional issues. Idk, just screams him.

Loving your crush/lover/spouse so fucking much, genuinely wouldn't hesitate to kill for them if someone hurt them.

Courage, all types of courage. Speaking out about racism in a protest, leading a protest, telling your boss about the coworker that scares you and harassed you. Telling a teacher about your parents if they're abusive. Standing in front of a crowd and giving a speech. Attending rallies, going to Pride, telling your bigoted family to suck a dick when they're being rude about trans/coloured/gay people, posting that post you were debating to do or not, sending your script/novel/anthology/biography to your agent, selling your art. Loads more that my brain refuses to give me right now. They are all brave, courageous acts that Ares loves and is so proud of you for. He watches you swallow down the fear and he rewards you with that glow of good adrenaline afterwards. That's his way of sort of kissing you on the forehead and telling you he's proud.

Rescuing animals from shelters. Ares is definitely very passionate about Adopt Don't Shop.

The Enemies to Lovers trope in fanfic.

Comfort items. Items that make you feel put together and braver. Mine is my Angel (from Lilo and Stitch, the pink experiment, teddy bear I got to match the Stitch one my friend has), I barely ever let it go if I'm in the house.

Poppies.

Baseball bats. The game too, but mainly the bats.

Petty 'wars' with siblings or coworkers. Snatching lunches and snacks, leaving passive aggressive post it notes.

War. Conflict. Rage. Obviously. But also bravery. Courage. A thirst for justice.

Protection. Of all kinds.

Weighted blankets.

Podcasts. True crime, and fictional horror ones. The Magnus Archives reminds me of him, idk why. (FOR REAL THO, ITS SO FUCKING GOOD, GO LISTEN TO IT. I WOULD DIE FOR JON, ITS ON SPOTIFY.) (And YouTube too.)

Learning about your friend's special interests because they mentioned they don't feel able to talk about it for fear of annoying people. And damn if you're gonna let that happen, so you're up till 5am reading The Other Boleyn Girl by Philippa Gregory so you can talk to them about it, and give them a safe space to info dump and share their thoughts and feelings.

Geese. Yes they are bastards. But they are feathery, beautiful bastards.

Saying "because fuck you, that's why."

The "WHAT THE FUCK IS UP KYLE" vine.

"Thanks for checking in, I'm still a piece of g a r b a g e."

Self esteem issues. Bad mental health. PTSD, anxiety, depression, BPD, eating disorders. They're all battles, and he is with you through all of them. By your side, holding your hand, rubbing your back. He feels your pain and he is helping you move past it. He is there to remind you that spite is a perfectly fucking good reason to get better, because people suck and you will show all the people who hurt you that you will not break. That you will get up, every single fucking time. And he is with you for every single step. If you believe nothing else, believe that Ares loves you.

Getting back up. Never backing down.

Teenage rebellion. Wild hair. Hair dye. Breaking into parks at night, exploring abandoned buildings.

Bumps in people's noses where it's been broken and not set properly.

Donald Duck. That duck is ready to fight all the time and I love him.

The movie 'Red'. Its so amazing. (Also watch that, it's on Netflix, at least on the UK one).

WWE.

That's it, my Ares one. I think I rambled a bit but I am very tired so forgive me. Lemme know what you think!!

I love Ares so much, I probably wouldn't have made it to this point if I didn't have him. He is my patron and he protected me when I felt alone.

Next I'm doing Aphrodite!

[nayutai]

The Task At Hand

Pairing Mingyu x Female OC

Word Count 15.1k

Warnings mentions of infidelity, mentions of racism, foul language, anxiety, insecurities, therapy sessions, dumbasses in love, light choking, dry humping

Summary The first year of marriage is always the hardest. Unfortunately for Mingyu and Kamile, the first year as husband and wife may also be their last. 

Notes This absolute behemoth of a fic is my contribution to The Intimacy Anthology where I, along with many other fantastic writers, have explored intimacy in all of its many forms. This fic is incredibly close to my heart and I hope that you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please check out the other stories featured in the project here as well! 

Mingyu fumbles with his keys in the dark as he searches for the one that’ll get him into his house. The alcohol coursing through his system is making this very simple task a lot harder than it needs to be. He shouts victoriously when he finally manages to unlock the front door to stumble inside. He freezes when he hears someone clapping slowly off to his right.

“Two minutes and forty seven seconds. That didn’t take you as long as I thought it would but then again you have been good at finishing quickly these days.” Mingyu groans deep in his throat at the scathing words from the woman staring him down from the love seat in the living room. She lifts a glass of what he can only assume is white wine to her lips, draining it quickly. 

“I’m too drunk for your bullshit tonight, Kamile.” Mingyu grunts as he leans back against the door to steady himself while he toes his sneakers off. All he wants to do is crawl up the stairs to the guest room he’s been sleeping in so that he can go to sleep. He rolls his eyes when he hears Kamile clear her throat from across the room. If he knows anything about his wife, nothing good is about to come out of her mouth. 

“If you didn’t want to hear my bullshit then maybe you should’ve shown up for dinner with my parents tonight.” The venom in her voice makes Mingyu’s blood run cold. He’d totally forgotten about her mother’s birthday dinner tonight. Fuck. As much as he hates to hear her nagging him, even he has to admit that he deserves it this time. This dinner has been planned for months and he should’ve been there. 

He forces his eyes to focus when he looks back over at the brooding woman shooting daggers at him from across the room. It’s then he registers the fact that she’s still fully dressed despite the late hour. Kamile is a huge proponent of being comfortable within the walls of her own home and for her to sit in a dress and heels as she waits on his appearance does not bode well for him in the slightest. He’s surprised that she hasn’t launched her wine glass at his head.

“Whatever or whoever you were out doing,” Kamile rises slowly from the couch, impressively steady in her heels despite the bottle of wine she ran through waiting on her neglectful husband to come home. Silence stretches between them interrupted only by the damning clicks of her shoes against the hardwood flooring. Kamile stops to appraise the man she married when she reaches him, wondering where it all went wrong. 

“…I hope it was worth it.” She silences his groveling with a raised hand. She’s tired of the arguing. Tired of the excuses. Just tired in general. 

Most people would have some sort of emotional response to this but her exhaustion leaves nothing but an empty void in its wake. Mingyu may as well be yelling at a brick wall for all the response he gets from Kamile as she slowly climbs the stairs. The sound of the bedroom door clicking shut echoing around the house may as well have been a gunshot.

“One more thing for her to hold over my fucking head.” Mingyu grumbles as he slowly blazes his own trail up the stairs. He pauses before the closed door to the bedroom they once shared, hand gripping the doorknob in his hand as he contemplates going in to apologize. “What’s the use? Not like she’d listen to me now anyway.”

The bed in the guest room welcomes him like an old friend when he flops down on it, draining him of his energy. Thoughts of how he’ll fix things in the morning drift through his head. Sleep evens out his features, lulling him into a peaceful slumber despite the fact that he’s still fully clothed. The perfect cover for the plans being set in motion right down the hall. 

The sun rouses Mingyu from his sleep way before he’s ready. He could’ve sworn that the curtains were pulled closed when he went to bed but it’s hard to know what’s what when you’re three sheets to the wind at god only knows what time. Blindly, he reaches out for his phone where he’d left it on the nightstand but comes up with a piece of paper instead. It takes a minute for his eyes to focus enough to read the words on the page, but when they do he finds himself bolting for the ensuite bathroom. The offensive piece of stationary gently drifting to the ground as if it hasn’t just ruined his life.

He heaves and wretches until he has nothing left to give. His knees buckle several times as he tries to brush his teeth which is an incredibly difficult task to complete when one is sobbing with everything they have. This can’t be happening. He refuses to believe that this is his reality. Mingyu’s heart sinks even lower when he drags himself back to the bedroom and sees Kamile’s  wedding ring on the night stand next to his phone. He retrieves the letter from where it rests on the floor, reading it over until the tears he’d fought back make a reappearance.

Doing this feels incredibly impersonal but I feel like it’s probably better this way. I realized that the flame I thought would burn forever is barely a spark anymore. Tonight was an epiphany for me. I realize that I deserve better and I’ve decided that I will have it. I’ve always wished you joy and light and I will probably never stop doing that despite everything that’s happened but I can’t do it as your wife anymore. 

Take care,

Kamile Dexter

The usage of her maiden name feels like the final nail in his coffin. He calls. He texts. He emails. He even sends her a message on instagram. Every single attempt to reach her goes unanswered. Anyone could see that things hadn’t been the best between them for a while, but never in his most horrific nightmares did Mingyu think that Kamile would actually leave. 

Time is irrelevant to Mingyu in the days that follow Kamile’s departure. He wakes up when his alarm goes off and drifts through the day. His nights are spent calling Kamile despite the fact that she never answers which then leads to him drinking himself into an alcohol-induced sleep complete with all the blessed numbness that it provides until his alarm goes off once more. This is without a doubt the lowest point of his life and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Kamile grew up with Vernon so naturally Mingyu tries to enlist his help. Unfortunately, it seems that she has anticipated that move and stops answering Vernon’s calls and texts as well. 

With all of his other options seemingly exhausted, Mingyu calls the one person that could possibly help him, Sidra Dexter. A woman with many accolades to her name, Sidra considers being Kamile’s mother to be the most important among them. If anyone knows how to get through to his wife, it’s Sidra. Mingyu prays that she still has a soft spot for him as the phone rings in his ear. If this call goes unanswered, then he really will lose all hope in saving his marriage. 

“It’s about damn time you called me, Gyu Bear. My daughter left you a whole week ago tomorrow and you’re just now enlisting my services? Tell me why that is.” Never a woman to beat around the bush, Sidra gets right to the point with the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile. 

“I don’t know what to do, Mama Dee. She won’t talk to me.” Mingyu whines, on the verge of tears for the umpteenth time today.

“Of course she won’t. She’s stubborn just like her ornery ass father.” The aforementioned father pipes up in the background to defend himself but is quickly shut down. “Now back to you, Gyu Bear. You have messed up big time but I love you so I’m going to help you fix it but I have one question first.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Did you cheat on my daughter? And yes that ‘harmless flirting’ shit you men folk like to do counts as cheating in my book.”

“Of course not! Wait…does Kam think I cheated?” Mingyu is floored and honestly a little angered at the fact that after all these years together Kamile thinks he’s actually capable of infidelity. The alcohol-induced haze clears long enough for his brain to recall a comment she’d made the night she left about whoever he was doing being worth it. 

“She sure does,” Sidra starts up, “but luckily for you, my gut says that you’re telling the truth and it hasn’t steered me wrong in the last 56 years so I don’t see a reason not to trust it now. So here’s what we’re going to do.”

Mingyu listens intently as Sidra outlines her master plan. Not for the first time, he’s in awe of the way her brain functions. The tightness in his chest subsides a little bit with every word she says. For the first time in the six days since Kamile left, Mingyu feels like his life has meaning again. His marriage might not be over after all. 

Despite the fact that Kamile had no intention of answering any of Mingyu’s desperate pleas for attention, the sudden cessation of said pleas only serve to further increase her anguish. She’d originally thought she’d be able to finally find peace when he gave up, but that does not seem to be the case. A part of her didn’t want him to stop trying. Didn’t want him to stop fighting for her.

Did I make the right choice?

The question has haunted her every waking moment as she adjusts to her new normal. She’s been adrift for the last ten days trying to figure out her next plan of action. Should she stay in Korea? Should she go back to America? Should she throw a dart at a map and go wherever it lands? The possibilities are endless but Kamile finds herself unable to fully commit to either option which is how she’s ending up existing on takeout in a hotel for the past week and some change. God, why did she have to be so impulsive? She should’ve made sure that she had a game plan before she just up and left like that. 

Her phone rings on the small night stand, interrupting her self-loathing thoughts. Kamile groans when she sees that it’s her mother. Ever since she’d broken the news to her parents that she’d decided to leave Mingyu, her mom has been giving her grief. Kamile had always had a hunch that her mom loved Mingyu just as much if not more than she loved her, but their break up has made her think that her hunch had been closer to the truth than she’d previously thought.

“Hey, ma.” Kamile greets her mother apprehensively, bracing for the latest round of her mother’s reconciliation efforts. 

“Hello, my lovely daughter. I just landed in Seoul so if you don’t mind coming to get me from the airport that would be great.” Kamile chokes on the mouthful of noodles she’d been munching on. There’s no way in hell that her mother just said that she’s in Seoul. Sure enough, Kamile pulls her phone away from her ear to check her mother’s location and it says that she is in fact at the Incheon Airport. 

“Baby, what did I tell you about making sure you properly chew your food before swallowing. Did you forget what happened to your Uncle Tommy?” Kamile barely hears her mother’s recounting about the uncle who’d died from choking on a fish bone as she rushes around her hotel room gathering her things. She can’t believe her mom really flew halfway across the globe. Thankfully, her hotel isn’t far from the airport so Kamile is helping her mother put her bags in the back of her SUV in no time at all.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but what are you doing here?” Kamile questions as she eases her car into the steady stream of traffic bound for the exit. 

“You just left your husband and you didn’t come home to me so I don’t know what made you think that I wasn’t coming out here. A friend of mine is letting me stay with her since I know how you are about your space.” 

Kamile is more than a little thankful for that. Her mother can be overbearing when she’s on a mission and the fact that she’ll still be able to maintain some personal space is comforting. She’s only too happy to let the gps in her guide her to this friend’s house. The closer they get to their destination though the more unsettled she becomes. She has no idea why her gut is telling her to be suspicious, but she’s definitely not about to ignore it. Kamile’s sense are on high alert when she turns into the driveway of a nondescript home in one of the more affluent suburbs of the city. 

“Mom, what’s this friend’s name?” Kamile eyes the structure in front of her as if it could possibly grow teeth and bite her. Something is not right here and if there’s one thing her mother taught her, it’s to trust her gut instinct and right now her gut is telling her to throw her car in reverse and get the hell out of dodge. The only thing keeping her from running for the hills is the fact her mother seems so at ease as she hops out of the car to grab her bags. 

“Her name is Bae Yeojin. She studied abroad at Villanova her junior year and we were roommates. She’s got a pretty successful business now.” Kamile hums in acknowledgement. She vaguely recalls her mom telling her about a girl named Yeojin from college, but that does nothing to assuage the uneasiness in her gut. 

Kamile waits at the bottom of the steps as her mother knocks on the front door. Her fingers are drumming on banister, eyes glancing back and forth from the ornate door and her car. She clutches her keys like a lifeline. At the slightest provocation, she’s ready to bolt. The two women squeal like school children and not the established professionals they are at the first sight of each other. Kamile wonders briefly how long it’s been since they last saw each other.

“Kamile Danielle Kim get your ass up here and say hi.” Not one to disobey a direct order, especially one accompanied by her full name, Kamile reluctantly climbs the short staircase.

“Jesus, Sid, you really spit this one right out. She’s practically your twin.” Yeojin exclaims. She pulls Kamile into a quick hug before ushering the both of them inside. 

One deep breath and Kamile instantly realizes why she felt so uneasy. There’s candles burning in the foyer, but they do nothing to mask the familiar scent she’s spent the last six years smelling. Mingyu is in this house somewhere. She spins around to fix the two women with what she hopes is a threatening glare. Unfortunately, neither one of them appears to be phased by it in the slightest.

“What the hell is going on here?” Kamile’s quickly starting to realize that not trusting her gut has landed her in a situation she most definitely has no interest being in. Her eyes quickly dart back and forth between the two scam artists in front of her.

“I told you she’d figure it out. Pay up.” Yeojin doesn’t take her eyes off Kamile as she holds her hand out to Sidra who is grumbling while she digs in her purse to hand over a few bills.

“Dammit, Kam, did I really raise you to be this observant? You’re costing me money.”

“Yes, now what in the fresh hell do y’all have going on?” The answer to her question comes in the form of timid footsteps sounding off behind her. Her spine stiffens. She doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is. She can sense him. “Fuck this. I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not. Now turn your little narrow butt around and have a seat.” Sidra adopts the tone she’d frequently used when Kamile was growing up and even now as an adult Kamile knows that disobeying this direct order is not the right choice to make. 

It’s with a grimace, that she pivots on her heel to face her husband for the first time since she walked out on him. The satisfaction she feels when she sees just how awful he looks is cancelled out by the fact that she probably looks just as bad. It would be a lie to say that she hasn’t missed the comfort and solace his presence used to bring her. That she doesn’t want to let the outside world fade away as she hides away in his embrace. She wants that back. Craves it even, but enough is enough.

Curse words flow like running water through Kamile’s mind as her mother situates her on a love seat in the living room with Mingyu sat right next to her. His large frame dwarfs the slightly undersized piece of furniture. She can feel the body heat radiating off of him and it’s a battle of wills to keep from leaning into him. 

“First things first…” Sidra claps her hands as she and Yeojin take a seat on the sofa opposite the troubled couple, “I think now is a good time to mention that Ms. Yeojin here is actually a therapist who specializes in couples therapy.”

Of course she is.

Kamile rolls her eyes as the puzzle pieces start clicking into place. She could be buried under her blankets, binging on The Golden Girls right now, but no, her meddling ass mother has scammed her into marriage counseling instead. She should’ve ran when she had the chance.

“Based on what Sid has told me, the two of you are exactly one week shy of your first wedding anniversary and already on the verge of divorce. So, who would like to dump their emotional baggage on the floor first?” Yeojin glances between Kamile and Mingyu looking for a crack in their demeanor that she can exploit. Mingyu looks like he wants to hurl while Kamile’s face is a carefully constructed mask of indifference. She makes her choice easily.

“Mingyu, thank you for volunteering. Let’s hear it.” 

Put on the spot, Mingyu chances a glance sideways at Kamile before clearing his throat. Yeojin sits at the ready with her notebook and pen. She listens intently as Mingyu tells the fiasco as he sees it.

“I know I forget things sometimes. I try not to, but I’m an idol. I have a lot going on but that’s no different from when we first started dating so I don’t know why it’s suddenly such a big issue now.” Mingyu seems to find his voice as he speaks up on how he believes that he’s been wronged. The timid nervousness he’d felt before quickly getting pushed down so that his frustration can take over.

“When we first started dating, I wasn’t being abandoned in a house all day with nothing to do.” Kamile may have been grumbling under her breath but Mingyu hears her loud and clear. His head whips around so fas that the two mothers across from him silently worry about the neck pain that may cause him later. 

“You have nothing to do because you’ve turned down every opportunity that’s come your way.” Thoughts of the numerous job and consulting offers from Pledis and other entertainment companies like them that she turned down come flying to the forefront of his memory. Human resource agents have practically been beating down their door for the chance to work with Kamile, a creative visionary in her own right, but she’s rejected them one after another without a moment’s hesitation.

“You mean every opportunity that you have sent my way. Like why would I want to work at that entertainment company and be forced to watch that bitch Miyeon flirt with you every day like you’re not married?” Mingyu is forced to concede to her point with that one. Miyeon is one of the stylists at the company and, despite his repeated rejection, is too flirtatious for his liking as well. Unfortunately, she’s deeply entrenched in the corporate hierarchy and nothing short of murder would make the higher ups get rid of her even if all of the members have lodged complaints against her. 

“Is that the simple hoe you come home smelling like every time you’re ‘out with the boys’?” Kamile adds on as if she’s finally started connecting some dots in her overactive imagination. The fact that she has even entertained the thought of Mingyu not only cheating on her but cheating on her with Miyeon of all people makes his blood boil.  

“Why do you think I’m cheating on you? Why do you always just assume the worst about me? Do you think Vernon would ever let me even think about cheating on you? The man hates violence but he would beat my ass over you and we all know that.” The frown on Kamile’s face falters at the mention of her oldest friend. Mingyu is correct in saying that he would absolutely fight him, but there are still some thing that aren’t adding up. Yeojin attempts to halt the conversation so that they can delve deeper into what Mingyu just said but Kamile beats her to the punch. 

“You come home smelling like warm vanilla sugar every night when everybody knows that I am a Japanese cherry blossom supremacist. What am I supposed to think, Mingyu?” She can’t believe that he has the audacity to sit next to her and still lie. The palms of her hands itch with the urge to throw things but she’s done enough of that plus this isn’t exactly her house either.

“Seokmin always sprays us down with some random perfume because he says it keeps the women away and honestly, it actually works like a charm so I’m always first in line to get sprayed.” Kamile’s anger deflates almost immediately. To anyone that doesn’t know Lee Seokmin that would sound like a crock of shit, but it’s perfectly on brand for him.

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

“We’re fucking married, Kamile. You could’ve just asked. Better yet you could have come with me to these events like I’ve asked you to do a million times.” 

“You know I hate those things.”

“Everyone hates them, but I would hate them a lot less if I had you there with me. I just feel like I’ve been trying to make an effort but you’re not meeting me halfway.”

“I knew my Gyu Bear wasn’t a cheater!” Sidra, who hasn’t set a word since things had started to get heated, pipes up.

“God, Mom could you at least pretend that you love me more than him?” Kamile throws her hands up in frustration. Her mother’s obvious favoritism is really starting to get to her right now.

“Not until you start giving me less grief.”

“Now, now, Sid. Let’s not derail the progress we’re making here. Kamile, is there anything you’d like to bring to the table?” Yeojin pats her dear friend on the back of her hand to reign her back in. She’d hate to ruin the momentum they got going by having Kamile suddenly switch gears to argue with her mother.

Kamile is only too happy to tell her side of the story as she recounts the events of the night that she decided to leave Mingyu and how it was the tipping point for her. Yeojin listens intently, taking note of the fact that none of the issues that Kamile has with her husband are particularly heinous aside from the debunked cheating suspicions. Each transgression on it’s own wouldn’t be enough to end in divorce, but rather it’s the heaping pile of them that overwhelmed Kamile to the point that she felt she needed to get out.

The more she listens, the clearer it becomes to Yeojin that their marriage is suffering not because they don’t love one another but because they’ve forgotten how to talk to each other which has lead to an unfortunate disconnect. The biggest obstacle is definitely going to be Kamile’s determination to end things. She’s made up her mind and getting her to change her mind is not going to be easy.

“I think I’ve heard everything that I need to hear for today.” Yeojin sets her notepad down on her coffee table, relaxing in her chair a bit before she continues. “The first year in a marriage is usually the hardest, but that seems to have been exacerbated by the fact that the two of you have never lived together before now plus Kamile here has uprooted her entire life and moved to a new country.”

“Saving this marriage is going to take considerable effort on both sides in order to restore the balance you had before you said your vows. Here is what I recommend.”

Yeojin challenges the young couple to separate themselves from their daily lives for the next week and go somewhere remote. A place where it’s just the two of them without any outside influences. Of course, this won’t be just some run of the mill vacation. They’ll have “homework” of sorts that Yeojin will be checking to make sure they complete. Mingyu is all for it but Kamile is much more hesitant. All they’ve done is argue for the past few months and she’d rather not be stuck in a house arguing for two weeks straight. 

“I’ve spent the past year stuck in a house with no outside influences and look at where that’s gotten me. On the verge of a fucking divorce!” Mingyu looks like he has something to say, but Yeojin thankfully stops him before he can rile his wife up any more than she already is. 

“You’re not just going to be ‘stuck in a house’. Think of it like a game of Among Us. The two of you are crewmates and this wall that’s been built between you is the imposter.” Kamile looks at Yeojin as if she’s grown three extra heads. There’s no way she just related this counseling session to a freaking video game. 

“I will also stop bugging you about grandkids for six months if you go.” 

“You should’ve just started there. I’ll go.”

Yeojin claps her hands excitedly. She sounds way too happy to be shipping them off to self-guided marriage boot camp, but Kamile stays silent though that becomes increasingly difficult as her mother’s friends lists out the “tasks” she expects them to complete.

“So here’s the game plan, I want you two to be totally and completely honest with each other as much as possible for the entire time you’re gone. Often times in relationships, both parties will censor themselves as a way to keep the peace but that can be detrimental as it has been for you guys.” Mingyu and Kamile don’t realize it but they both frown simultaneously at the proposal of this honesty idea. Yeojin takes it as a positive sign that they are still in sync on some level. 

“If the thought of doing it all day is too daunting, then start with just one hour. This doesn’t mean that you have to sit and stare at each other for a whole hour and trade statements just act normally but speak honestly. Okay so far?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Mingyu casts a glance in Kamile’s direction, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out to her. He’s had to stop himself several times since she arrived and it’s not getting any easier.

While Kamile’s mind is running wild with all of the potential for disaster that an hour of honesty could result in, Yeojin powers on with the rest of her required tasks. On top of separating themselves from society and this so called honest hour, Yeojin has mandated that they share at least one meal together every day with one of them being dinner on their wedding anniversary. Just when Kamile thought that Yeojin couldn’t possibly pile more on, she brings up the “activity days”. Each of them will have to plan some sort of activity for the two of them to do together while they’re away. It could be as big or as small as they want, but it has to be meaningful. Mingyu draws Kamile’s attention when he pulls his phone out of his back pocket to start tapping away on the screen like a mad man.

“You guys have a lot of preparing to do in order to be ready to leave tomorrow so we’ll stop here for today. I’ll be checking in on you daily to assess your progress and offer any guidance you may need.” 

Kamile is out of her chair and halfway to the door before anyone can blink. The room suddenly feels too small as the gravity of what’s about to happen sinks in. She’d convinced herself that she no longer wanted to be married to Mingyu. She was so sure that her run as Mrs. Kim, albeit short as it was, had come to an end, but now she’s been confronted that her main reason for ending things was baseless. This is not how she thought things would go.

Day 1

The drive from the hotel to the home she’s shared with Mingyu for the past year goes way too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu had texted her about having to go gas up the rental car so he’s nowhere to be seen when Kamile arrives. She sits in the driveway for a few minutes thinking of the memories saturated into the home that looms before her. The memories she had hoped to create. A stray tear slips down her cheek and she swipes at it furiously. She swore that she was done shedding tears over this but they just keep on coming.

Her pity party is interrupted by an unfamiliar SUV pulling into the driveway behind her. Kamile looks in the mirror to see Mingyu getting out of the driver’s seat. She does her best to erase the evidence of her tears, but the look on his face when she opens her own door says that she wasn’t very successful. 

“Are you-”

“I’m fine.” Kamile cuts him off before he can even finish his question. She stalks to the back of her car to start transferring her bags from her car to the behemoth of an SUV behind her.

“I’ll get them.” Mingyu takes the bag she’d already grabbed from Kamile’s hands, motioning to the passenger’s seat. Kamile, no longer in the mood to speak, wordlessly follows his directive and climbs into the SUV.

It takes Mingyu no time at all to load Kamile’s bags into the back with his own. 

“Obviously this is a sign that we should just leave.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to let a lost set of keys stand between me and keeping my marriage.”

“Why do you even care? Why are we even doing this?” Kamile screams. She’s been holding this in for far too long and she can’t take it anymore. 

“For better or for worse.” Mingyu’s face is a mask of carefully controlled fury and it’s giving Kamile pause. She’s never seen him like this before. “We promised each other for better or for worse and yet you’re ready to run for the hills at the first sign of trouble. I’ll admit that I’m not perfect and certainly played a role in why we’re here but I’m willing to put in the work to make it better because those vows meant something to me. I thought they meant something to you too.”

Kamile is incredibly taken aback at Mingyu’s fervent desire to stay married. She didn’t think that he cared that much anymore. Without any further protest, she joins him in the hunt for the elusive key to the front door. Fifteen minutes pass and they are no closer to gaining entry than they were when they first arrived. A rep with the rental company calls as they’re checking the bottom of the flower pots that line the front porch and tells them that the keys were mistakenly put in the mailbox. The same mailbox that sits at the end of the mile long driveway. Kamile makes to get back in the car to drive to the end of the driveway but Mingyu suggests walking it.

“It would be faster in the car.”

“You heard that therapist lady. We’re supposed to be spending time together. What better way to do it than by walking two miles?” Kamile walks back and forth as she considers her options. She can resist which will probably lead to yet another fight or she can just suck it up and walk to the mailbox. With a groan, she makes her decision.

“Fine, but if I get tired you’re carrying me.”

“Anything for you, my lady.” He bows deeply which almost makes Kamile crack a smile. She steels her resolve quickly though and reminds herself not to get caught up in his antics. He’s going to have to do a lot more than make her laugh in order to get out of the dog house.

The walk to the mailbox and back is quiet for the most part. Their footfalls join the hum of the wildlife in the woods that line the driveway on either side, but the jokes and playful jabs that used to fill the air between them is noticeably absent. Neither one is sure of what to say or do around the other anymore. Thankfully, the key is hanging on a hook inside the rather large mailbox.

Mingyu fully expected for Kamile to ask to be carried on the way back. She’s never been a huge fan of physical activity so it doesn’t come as a surprised to him when she starts whining halfway back to the cabin.

“I can’t do it just leave me here with my flower friends. I’ll become one with the forest.” Mingyu wordlessly moves to crouch down in front of her. He’s thankful that she can’t see his face to save himself the embarrassment of having to explain why he’s so excited to carry her for the last half mile to the end of the driveway.

Kamile doesn’t hesitate a single second to climb onto his back, clinging to him like a koala. It’s not lost on either one of them that this is the most physical contact they’ve had with each other in months. She’s wrapped around him tight enough that he doesn’t need to support her thighs, but he does it anyway. No way in hell is going to let this moment pass by without taking full advantage. 

They opt to spend the rest of the day just getting settled in. Yeojin had encouraged them to share a bedroom but Kamile is not down with that. Mingyu is disappointed when she wheels her suitcase into one of the guest bedrooms but he takes solace in the fact that she’s chosen the one right across the master where he’d dropped his things hoping she’d follow. He hopes that at some point in the next few days she’ll finally share a bed with him again. 

Dinner ends up being Thai takeout. Kamile has to admit that she’s impressed when Mingyu is able to rattle off her usual order with practiced ease. There once was a time when they’d get Thai food together all the time, but they’re so far removed from that time that she was sure he’d have forgotten by now. They eat without a single word exchanged before going their separate ways to bed.

Day 2

Mingyu wakes up before the sun despite the fact that he slept all of two hours the night before. His hands are on the verge of trembling from all of the nervous energy coursing through his body. Today is the official first day of marriage bootcamp and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s barely seven so there’s no way that Kamile has even attempted to get out of bed yet. Like a thief in the night, Mingyu creeps down the hall to peek into the bedroom that she had claimed as her own. A small smile graces his face at the cute way she hugs one of the throw pillows to her chest. It falters a little when his brain reminds him that she used to hug him close to her like that and not a pillow, but he shoves that depressing thought away for now. He has work to do.

The smell of bacon rouses Kamile from sleep, luring her down the stairs. She grunts a greeting at the man currently tending to a pan of scrambled eggs as she reaches for the stack of bacon on the counter to his left. Mingyu is quick to swat her hand away before she can secure her bounty.

“The eggs are almost done. Be patient.” Kamile whines at being chastised, scowling at the back of Mingyu’s head with disdain.

In the midst of her grumbling, she finally takes notice of his attire or the lack thereof. Saliva pools in her mouth at the sight of his muscles flexing as he cooks the eggs. Her gaze moves lower to his trim waist and the pair of gray sweatpants hanging from said waist in a way that has no business being as attractive as it is. Her fingers twitch with the urge to slide her hands beneath the waistband of those sweatpants to get at that prize she knows is there but she keeps them to herself.

“Earth to Kamile.” Mingyu chants as he waves a spatula in front of her face. She blinks rapidly, doing her best to clear the thick fog of arousal from her mind. The uncomfortable sensation of her panties sticking to her skin is quickly forgotten when Mingyu holds up a plate peeled high with bacon, eggs, and blueberry pancakes.

“Thanks, Gyu.” Kamile murmurs as she takes the proffered plate and heads for the table. She falters half a step when she realizes that she’s let his nickname slip. She prays that he didn’t notice and if he did, she prays he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Gyu? Haven’t heard that one in a while.” Looks like that prayer went unanswered. The shit eating grin on Mingyu’s face makes her itch. 

“I’m hungry and thankful. Don’t push it.” 

They eat in silence. The only sounds are their forks as they make contact with their plates.  Mingyu is kicking himself in the ass for not saying anything but his brain is short circuiting. Thankfully, the buzzing from the intercom by the front door signaling that someone is at the front gate. It’s the special grocery delivery he’d requested for the first of their planned activity days. 

“What’s all this for?” Kamile asks curiously. She pokes through a few of the bags to see fresh strawberries and a variety of other fruits along with a very large bag of rice cakes.

“I was thinking we could have a picnic today for our first planned activity.” His heart races as he waits for Kamile’s reaction to his idea. She munches on a piece of bacon as she continues to pull things out of bags.

“I dig it.” Mingyu feels weak with relief at his idea being well-received. “Why so many rice cakes though?”

“You’ve been a tteokbeokki fiend since we met. Didn’t see the point in depriving you while we’re here if I could just make it for you.” Kamile groans at the thought. She’s more than capable of feeding her own addiction with the spicy rice cake dish, but she’s never been able to make it as good as Mingyu. Despite the fact that she just ate, she contemplating requesting that he make a batch of it right now.

Mingyu grabs a knife to start chopping up some of the fruit. Kamile takes a seat at the island across from him, propping her chin in her hand as she watches him work. She’s always loved watching him cook almost as much as eating the food he makes. She can’t even remember the last time that she was able to do this. It feels like a lifetime ago. Her eyes with sparkle with fascination watching him prepare the food for their picnic. 

“Open up.” Mingyu holds a strawberry up to her lips and Kamile opens her mouth without hesitation. The berry is perfectly ripe and so juicy that a stream of it runs down her chin. Mingyu reaches out to swipe it away, licking the liquid from his thumb. 

“Tasty.” Kamile squirms in her seat at the way his lips wrap around his thumb. Time for her to make an escape before she does something crazy like fuck her husband in someone else’s kitchen. 

Mingyu watches Kamile hastily retreat with barely concealed glee. He’d thought that she’d stopped being attracted to him, but that is incorrect if the results of the little experiment he’d decided to conduct are to be believed. He smiles to himself as he continues cutting up fruit. There might be hope for them yet.

After agonizing longer than he should have over the best spot to set up their little picnic, Mingyu finally picks a spot. He’s so focused on how best to arrange everything on the blanket that he doesn’t even notice Kamile creeping up behind him. He nearly jumps out of his own skin when she clears her throat much to Kamile’s amusement.

“Did I scare you?” It’s clear to her that she did, but making him admit it is too good for her to pass up. 

“No…maybe.” Kamile hums in response, kneeling across from him on the blanket. “That dress is really pretty on you.”

“Thank you.” She mumbles in response. It’s been so long since she’s heard any sort of praise or compliment from Mingyu that she doesn’t even know how to respond anymore. It almost feels brand new. 

Eager to rid herself of the awkwardness blooming in her chest, Kamile grabs a fork and shoves what she thinks is a potato straight in her mouth. In her haste, she fails to realize that the potato she thought she had is actually an onion. Mingyu doubles over with laughter at the pure disgust painted across Kamile’s face. She desperately wants to spit it out but she was raised to believe that spitting out perfectly good food is only a half step below a sin so she powers through. She chugs one of the glasses of fresh squeezed lemonade on the small tray to her right as Mingyu continues to cackle at her plight. 

“You set me up for failure.” Kamile has hated onions from the womb according to the stories her mother told about the smell of onions making her nauseous for her entire pregnancy. Mingyu must pay for this. 

“I purposely cut them big enough for you to easily pick them out. You weren’t supposed to eat them.” Mingyu defends himself breathily as he tries desperately to stop laughing. Kamile reaches out to punch him in the arm which only serves to make him laugh harder.

Silence falls over them again although, unlike breakfast this morning, they’re able to exchange some small talk here and there. The awkwardness that they’d started off with wanes and wanes until they’re left comfortably enjoying each other’s presence for the first time in a long time. 

Mingyu finds himself unable to take his eyes off of Kamile. He’d meant it when he’d said that the yellow sundress she’s wearing looked pretty on her. It compliments the rich mahogany of her skin as if it was made especially for her. The plethora of curls that he’s always loved are full of life as she bobs her head side to side, one of her many habits that Mingyu has always adored. His chest feels tight with the weight of his love for her. He can’t believe that he nearly let her slip away.

“You’re staring, Mingyu.” Kamile says between bites of the strawberry she’d grabbed. Mingyu opens his mouth to answer when a distant rumble beats him to the punch. 

“Oh shit.” 

The two of them hastily toss the near empty dishes back into the picnic basket. Dark clouds are steadily rolling in with the speed of a bullet train. Just when they think they might be able to make it back into the house, their luck runs out. The rain comes down in sheets, drenching them in seconds. Kamile is so thankful that the lack of pockets on her dress lead to her choosing to leave her phone inside.

Kamile is the worst mood when they finally reach the safety of the house. She just went through the stress and physical exhaustion of wash day two days ago and now she has to do it all over again five days ahead of schedule. 

“Did you not check the fucking weather before you decided to turn us into sitting ducks outside?” She seethes. Mingyu arches a brow in confusion at her sudden mood swing.

“Of course I did. It was supposed to be nothing but sunshine all week.”

“Well, clearly that was a lie but I’ve grown to accept that from you. Now I’ve got to go suffer through wash day ahead of schedule.” Mingyu winces at her words, but he’s nothing if not an opportunist so he chooses to ignore it in favor of jumping on the more important statement Kamile just made. 

“Can I help you with your hair?” He asks as he follows his grumpy wife up the staircase. She pauses outside her room to fix him with a glare.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? I’ve always helped you with your hair.” In his mind, this isn’t a huge request. The Kamile he knew used to be only too happy to allow him to hand over her hair products for him to do her extensive wash day routine for her. He’d actually gotten so good at it that he’d even started doing her younger sisters’ hair whenever he was in the states to visit.

“I barely know who you are anymore and you expect me to let you touch my hair? Not a chance in hell.” Kamile’s voice climbs in volume until she’s practically yelling. 

The last thing Mingyu wants to do today is fight, but enough is enough. Their screams echo through the spacious house as they go back and forth over Kamile’s mistrust of Mingyu. He doesn’t get it and she thinks it’s incredibly shocking that he doesn’t. Kamile’s phone rings somewhere in the bedroom she has yet to enter, effectively interrupting their spat. She leaves Mingyu in the hallway in favor of answering it and groans out loud when she sees that it’s a FaceTime call from Yeojin. She’d forgotten all about the daily check-ins that the therapist had mentioned she’d be conducting. She goes back out to the hallway and drags Mingyu with her to the staircase so they can get this call over with without ruining the carpet in her room. 

“Hello, love birds! How’s everything going?” Yeojin chirps once the call connects. Her hopeful smile falters slightly when she sees the sour looks on her clients’ faces.

Mingyu is only too happy to give the attentive marriage counselor a full rundown of what was happening before she called. Kamile scowls at him the entire time. To hear him tell it, she’s the bad guy but anyone with common sense would’ve left her alone after she’d made it perfectly clear that she was not in the mood to have a conversation. She can’t wait for Yeojin to drag him therapeutically for not picking up on that. 

“Kamile, what do you think lead to you lashing out like that? The rain was not his fault.” The woman in question is thrown off when the outcome she was expecting doesn’t come to fruition.

“He should’ve checked the weather before deciding to have a picnic outside but that’s neither here nor there. I feel like I made it very clear that I didn’t want to talk to him and yet he kept pressing the issue.” Kamile can’t believe that she has to defend herself. Mingyu is so hasty with responding that it sounds like a keyboard smash is coming out of his mouth.

“I would like to make it known that I did not say one word to you when we came back inside until you started yelling at me.” He looks incredibly smug as he watches Kamile’s mouth open and close as she tries to think of a way to refute his statement. “I would also like to make it known that I have been obsessive about every detail of this picnic and I would have never had it outside if there was even a slight chance that it might rain. Maybe if you had a little more faith in me you could see that.”

“And that brings me to my next point.” Yeojin begins. “We’ve established that the infidelity was a myth, so why do you continue to hold on to that mistrust, Kamile? I want you to really think about it and be completely honest with both us and yourself. I’m not saying that whatever you’re feeling is wrong because you are entitled to feel that way but I think it would be good for the both of you if why you feel that way is better understood.”

The theme of the day continues to be silence as Kamile ponders the question put before her. She’s mature enough to admit that not trusting Mingyu while also admitting that she believes him when he says that he didn’t cheat is contradictory. The root of that contradiction is something she’s been trying to avoid ever since she got roped into that surprise therapy session. Mingyu’s alleged infidelity had been her out. Her escape. She had cut and run on the back of a false truth and that reality is something that’s been hard for her to process. Tears well up in Kamile's eyes as she thinks back to Mingyu’s rant about their wedding vows when they’d first arrived. She’d thought that everything was his fault and being forced to face the truth is difficult. Mingyu’s harsh glare softens as he reaches out to wipe the tears from her face as they start to fall. He sighs when she pulls away from him.

“I can see that I’ve found a sore spot so I won’t press this any further today. We’ll revisit this in the future.” Yeojin gives them some tips on how to better communicate before she ends the call.

Kamile is only too happy to end the call so she can lock herself in her room. She doesn’t even come back out for dinner despite Mingyu all but begging outside of her door. He’s not sure what mental dots she connected when they were talking to Yeojin, but whatever it was seems to have upset her more than he’d originally thought.

A weather alert comes through on Mingyu’s phone as he watches TV downstairs. Apparently the storm that had snuck up on them earlier is part of a much larger system of severe weather that changed course and is expected to hang around the area for the next day or two. His first thought is Kamile. She’s terrified of thunderstorms. Always has been. 

He thinks back to a time before they started dating when Kamile was just Vernon’s pretty American friend that he had a huge crush on. She had come to Korea to visit and insisted on sleeping on the couch despite the fact that everyone tried to give up their room for her. Much like today, a nasty storm rolled in and in her panicked state she had accidentally ended up in his room instead of Vernon’s. The realization had been comical and she’d tried to leave to go to the right room, but a sudden clap of thunder that seemed to shake the whole building sent her diving into his arms where she stayed for the rest of the night. She slept through a thunderstorm for the first time in her life that night. A selfish part of him hopes that this storm brings him the same luck he had all those years ago.

Day 3

Heavy rain beats against the window like a prize fighter while thunder rattles Kamile’s brain until she feels like screaming. There aren’t many things that strike true fear in her heart, but thunderstorms are definitely somewhere in the top five things on that list. She’s got her headphones in and her music blasting, but it does very little to drown out the war going on outside. She rips the blankets from her body and makes for the bedroom door to go get in bed with Mingyu but like the fifty other times she’s attempted to do that she stops herself in the hallway. The door shuts with a soft click as she seals herself back in her own personal hell. 

Kamile jolts awake not even aware of when she had even managed to fall asleep. Sweat has glued her clothes to her skin and it’s making her skin crawl the longer she lays there. She groans aloud when she hears the rain still beating against the window pane. The alarm clock on the nightstand says that it’s just barely six in the morning which means it’s been exactly one hour since she apparently passed out from exhaustion. A rumble off in the distance lets her know that she probably won’t be getting more sleep any time soon so she drags herself to the bathroom for a shower. 

Freshly showered and in desperate need of caffeine, Kamile makes for the kitchen. Mingyu’s bare back comes into view for the second consecutive morning when she rounds the corner. His hair is sticking up in odd directions and he looks to be five seconds from falling asleep standing up as he stabs at the buttons on the coffee maker.

“Why are you up so early?”

“You need coffee.” He replies with a yawn.

“Yeah, but I can make it myself. You didn’t need to lose sleep to make me coffee.” She protests. Mingyu turns to glare at her until Kamile raises her hands in surrender.

“If you’re up, I’m up.” Kamile shakes her head at him as she pulls two mugs out of the cabinet. No sense in arguing with him when he’s clearly made up his mind about suffering.

The two of them sit in silence side by side, sipping their coffee, and staring out the window watching Mother Nature do her thing. Out of habit, Kamile leans over to rest her head on MIngyu’s shoulder. She stiffens when she realizes what she’s doing. Mingyu holds his breath. Scared that if he makes any sudden movements the bubble will burst and she’ll move away from him. She surprises the both of them when she lets the tension drain from her shoulders instead, relaxing into him.

“I’m sorry.” Kamile whispers into the void. If Mingyu wasn’t so acutely focused on her every move, he probably wouldn’t have even heard it over the wind. 

“Me too.” He turns his head to softly kiss the top of her head, taking a moment to inhale the familiar scent of her hair products. He never knew it was possible to miss a singular smell so much.

They’ve exchanged exactly four words since they sat down at the table, but they mean so much. There’s a near palpable shift in the air. Like a switch has flipped. An unspoken truce between them that they are in this together. Kamile lifts her head to finish her coffee and Mingyu immediately misses the weight of her head on his shoulder.

“Did you ever finish watching The Originals?” Kamile asks before downing the last of her coffee.

“No, it was kind of our thing so I haven’t watched it since we stopped watching it together.” She hums in response.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to be stuck in this house all day so we may as well pick up where we left off.” Mingyu nearly chokes on his coffee. He can’t even remember the last time Kamile willingly suggested that they spend time together. He pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming which she rolls her eyes at. 

“Come on. You’re in charge of snacks.”

For the next eight hours, their butts are glued to the couch. They only get up to use the bathroom and replenish their snack pile. They’ve spent so much of their time arguing that Kamile had forgotten how much she loved just being with Mingyu. Klaus is about to rain down hellfire on some of his enemies when Mingyu’s phone vibrates in the pocket of his sweatpants. Kamile can feel it against her own thigh and it’s only then that she realizes the way that they’ve gravitated towards each other over the course of the day. If she were to get any closer to him, she’d be sitting in his lap. Mingyu had intended to ignore the call, thinking it might be someone from the company despite his strict instructions not to contact him, but he answers it instead when he sees that it’s Yeojin. 

“Well don’t you two look cozy. I was planning to pick up where we left off yesterday, but I’d rather talk about this first.” Yeojin looks entirely too smug as she brings attention to the lack of space between the two of them. Mingyu half expects Kamile to scoot away from him now that it’s been pointed out just how close they are, but she stays put. 

“Can’t a girl just sit next to her husband without being questioned to death?” Kamile asks playfully. Yeojin chuckles and moves on with their daily check in. 

“Fine, fine I’ll leave it alone. Let’s get down to business. Mingyu we didn’t get to hear from you a lot yesterday so I’d like to get into how you felt when Kamile left. What was that like for you?” Yeojin rests her chin on her hand as she waits to see what’s going to come out of the box of emotions she just opened. 

Mingyu briefly realizes that this is the first time he’s talked about that day to anyone as he recounts that dark morning like the nightmare it was. Kamile listens in stunned silence while he tells his story. After seeing the bags under his eyes at Yeojin’s house, she’d figured that he’d suffered just like she had, but she’d never imagined that waking up to find her rings and the note she’d left had affected him to the extent that it did. The guilt that’s been festering in her gut increases tenfold at the thought of him heaving into the toilet.

“I knew things weren’t the greatest but I truly did believe that we were strong enough to get through whatever. Divorce never crossed my mind even once so it killed me to know that it had not only crossed her mind but became a viable option that she ran with. I get why she thought that was the best option now, but then it felt like I’d been blindsided.” Mingyu explains. His words are laced with the hurt that he’s been keeping to himself. Kamile picks at the words screen printed down one of the legs of her sweatpants wishing that a hold would open beneath her and swallow her up. She’s never felt so low.

“Kamile, I see you’re getting emotional. What are you feeling right now?” Yeojin gently pries. Mingyu pulls Kamile into him as his own emotions start getting the better of him. Yeojin is pleased to note that, unlike yesterday, Kamile doesn’t snatch away from him. 

“I was so focused on how unhappy I was that I didn’t consider anything else. It was all about me, me, me.” Kamile stares off into space as she opens up. She’s never talked about this with anyone but her best friends. In hindsight, they might not be sitting where they are right if she’d just talked to Mingyu about it ages ago but then again hindsight is always 20/20. “I visited Korea plenty of times when we were dating, but living here as the black wife of an idol has been so hard. Being from America, I’m used to people treating me different because of my skin color but when people feel entitled to be so invasive about it because of who I’m married to…it’s different.”

Mingyu’s jaw is on the floor as he listens to the struggles that his wife was having right under his nose and he never knew. He noticed that she’d become more withdrawn and hostile but he could never figure out why and she wouldn’t tell him when he asked. It comes as no surprise to him now that she stopped going outside. He can’t exactly blame her. Seventeen is going on their eighth year so Mingyu is a seasoned veteran at ignoring the things people say on the internet. Unfortunately, Kamile didn’t have that luxury. His stomach turns at the tales of her being approached on the street by people who wrongly called themselves fans thinking they were protecting him. The racist comments made about her online. She was suffering and he just let it go on thinking that she was just being moody.

“Do you think that caused you to develop a little resentment for Mingyu and his idol status?” 

Kamile’s first instinct is to say no, but given that they are supposed to be as honest possible she tamps down the lie before it can slip out. She did resent that she’d fallen for someone with such great public notoriety sometimes. It was different when she was just one of Vernon’s childhood friends. The general public didn’t really care what she did from day to day, but now one wrong move turns her into a trending topic and she doesn’t know how to handle it. There are days that she wishes that Mingyu was just a normal person, but then they would have never met and that’s not a reality she truly wants to live in despite her feelings towards him when she walked out. 

“Maybe a little bit but I know we’d have never met if he wasn’t Mingyu from Seventeen so it’s pointless really.” 

They talk with Yeojin a little while longer before she has to go to her next appointment. The air between them is heavy with the weight of the secrets that have come to light. It’s a stifling atmosphere and it’s beginning to drive Kamile insane. She reaches for the remote to restart their show, but Mingyu takes it from her.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” His eyes are misty as he struggles to hold himself back from crying once more. He could kick himself for not doing his best to shield her from the people that had killed her spirit.

“You’re already so busy and the last thing I wanted to do was add to everything else on your plate.” Mingyu wants to scream. She means more to him than being an idol. She always has. He cups her face in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“Promise me that you won’t hold stuff inside like that anymore and I promise to be better at not letting you. Deal?”

“Deal.” Kamile’s eyes flutter closed as Mingyu pulls away to press his lips to her forehead. 

He clears his throat before grabbing the remote to resume their show. For the next few hours, conversation is limited to the messy lives of the supernatural beings on the screen before them. The wind still howls. The rain is unceasing. Yet in the little bubble of Netflix and snacks that they’ve created, it may as well not even exist. 

Until bedtime that is.

“You know,” Mingyu says as they file up the stairs. The seemingly ever present bad weather still continues, “…you don’t have to sleep alone. I know you don’t like storms.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” It would be so easy to take him up on his offer. She could finally get some sleep, but for whatever reason she can’t bring herself to do it.

“Well you know where I am if you change your mind. Good night, Kamile.”

“Good night, Mingyu.”

Kamile stares at the ceiling in despair. She didn’t think it was possible for the storm to get worse but apparently Mother Nature took that as a challenge. She’s starting to genuinely concerned about whether or not the window by her bed can withstand the force of the weather it’s being forced to deal with. Kamile contemplates running to Mingyu’s room but shuts that idea down for the millionth time. Things feel...different between them after today’s call with Yeojin but she’s not sure if they’ve been different enough to justify hopping into bed with him quite yet. 

“This is fine. I don’t need to sleep.” She whispers into the void. 

She’s accepted her fate and made peace with it. Or at least that’s what she thought she’d done. A crack of lighting illuminates the room despite the blackout curtains over the window followed by a thunderous boom so loud it seems to vibrate her very being. Kamile is across the hall before she even has the time to process what she’s doing. Mingyu is out cold when she bursts into the room. Her brain chooses that moment to catch up to what she’s doing and flips on the switch of self-consciousness. Another loud boom has her throwing caution to the wind once more, sliding beneath the blanket to get as close to him as possible without waking him up. 

Kamile lays next to him a trembling anxious mess as the storm rages on. She’s so consumed by her own fear that she doesn’t even notice the man next to her has roused from sleep until he’s wrapped both of his arms around her to pull her into his warm chest. It’s as if the environmental warfare outside ceases to exist the second Kamile’s cheek makes contact with Mingyu’s skin. His presence drowns everything out just like it did all those years ago. The sleep that had been evading her comes quickly in his embrace. 

Day 4

A ray of sunlight shines perfectly through a crack in the curtain to hit Kamile square in the face. She squirms around trying to escape it and gets a frustrated groan in response. It’s then that she registers the weight of the arm that rests loosely across her midsection. The memory of running to Mingyu’s bed in the middle of the night comes rushing back to her. Her first instinct is to bolt, but she’s so touch starved that she finds herself turning in his hold in a bid to get closer. 

“Good morning.” Mingyu grunts something in response that she’s sure he thought sounded like good morning.

He slots one of his legs between hers and unintentionally allows her to feel the morning wood barely contained by his boxer briefs. Mingyu’s even breathing indicates that he’s fallen back asleep. Kamile would love to do the same but all of her attention is laser focused on the hardened appendage intimately pressed against her upper thigh. A damp spot has already started forming in her panties. She needs to get out of this bed now. Kamile squirms and wiggles around trying to get away, but it would seem that her efforts are having the opposite effect. A throaty groan slips from Mingyu’s lips.

“Stop moving.” He mumbles still half asleep. Kamile does her best to stop fidgeting and focus her attention elsewhere, but it’s not working. Her inner muscles clench around nothing as thoughts of what Mingyu could do to her dance dangerously through her mind. 

“I have to pee.” Mingyu cracks one eye open. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that he doesn’t believe her for a second but he releases her anyway. He sighs as he watches her run off to the en suite bathroom. 

Mingyu is noticeably absent when Kamile emerges from the bathroom fresh off a rushed orgasm though hardly sated. She follows the scent of coffee downstairs to find Mingyu bent over digging through one of the crisper drawers in the refrigerator. Back before everything went to shit she would’ve slapped his ass with glee and run away before he could exact his revenge. Good times.

“Did you hear what I said?” Kamile was so focused on his ass that she hadn’t even registered the fact that Mingyu had said anything.

“Huh?”

“I said do you want to get in the hot tub later since we can go outside now?” He repeats as he hands over a cup of coffee already milky and sweet the way she likes it.

“It’s almost 80 degrees outside and you want to get in a hot tub?” She questions slowly to which Mingyu responds with an emphatic yes. “Be honest. Are you just trying to see me in a bikini?”

“Absolutely.” He giggles when Kamile reaches out to smack him on the arm. “Why are you attacking me? Yeojin said we have to be honest at all times.” 

“I don’t think that included being a horny little shit.”

“I’m a man with eyes and a hot wife. I can’t help.” Despite the compliment, Kamile’s mood sours at his words. Mingyu’s freshly honed observation skills picks up on it immediately.

“Uh oh, did I say something wrong?”

“If I’m so hot, then why haven’t we had sex in four months? We used to go at it like rabbits and then one day you just stopped initiating things.” 

Mingyu is quick to point out that he did try to have sex with her plenty of times, but she pushed him away. Eventually, he gave up. It’s almost funny when the dots start connecting in her head. Her personal struggles had originally been why she denied him sex, but then he’d started coming home doused in perfume so she really didn’t want anything to do with him then. Mingyu has never been a very pushy person so he figured he’d just wait her out. He didn’t think that he’d end up in a four month dry spell (and counting), but he was also not about to look for satisfaction outside of his marriage either. 

“How about we save this sex talk until after I’m finished cooking? All of the blood in my body is rushing south and these rice cakes are starting to look like nipples.” Kamile nearly chokes on the water she’d just taken a sip of. Tears pour from her eyes as her body can’t decide if it wants to laugh or die of asphyxiation. 

“Woah, woah! When we said till death do us part I was hoping we’d be farting dust not barely 26.” Kamile is sure that he wants her dead now as her internal war between laughing and choking only gets worse. 

Despite her earlier protests, Kamile finds herself seated across from Mingyu in the hot tub later that evening as they watch the sun set. She fully expects him to try something from the way his eyes keep drifting south to stare at her chest, but he’s on his best behavior the entire time. 

Day 5

“Hello, love birds! I missed you two yesterday. What happened?” Yeojin looks hesitant almost as if she’s scared of their answer. She looks downright relieved to hear that they missed her call because they fell asleep cuddling on the couch. After getting a run down of everything that’s happened since they last spoke, she encourages them to continue sleeping in the same bed together. 

“Couples often downplay the amount of good that just being physically close to your partner can be. If you’re both comfortable sleeping next to each other without a thunderstorm being the driving force, please keep doing it.” Yeojin pleads before ending the call to go to her next appointment. 

Her words hang in the air even after she’s gone. Mingyu looks over at Kamile with a questioning look on his face. It’s clear that he’s after her opinion on this whole shared bed situation, but Kamile doesn’t have much to say on the matter. The two of them have been pretty much inseparable during the day now, but she’s still nervous about sleeping in the same bed together and she doesn’t know how to shake that feeling. She was too scared to think about it last night but without the weather to distract her she’s not so sure if sit’s a good idea.

“What’s going on in there?” Mingyu taps a finger against Kamile’s temple to get her attention. She shakes her head but he’s got a feeling it’s about what Yeojin’s bed sharing idea.

“If this is about sharing a bed, don’t worry about. You’ve got the rest of the day to decide.” She nods in acknowledgement of his point but Mingyu can tell that the gears in her head are turning even faster than before. Her overthinking is going to give her a headache.

Night time comes entirely too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu has kept her so busy that she hasn’t had the time to sit down to sort through her thoughts. Knowing him, he probably did that on purpose. He always hated her habit of overthinking everything, preferring to live in the moment and make decisions as they arose. Kamile has never had much success doing that which is why they work so well together. He balances her out and helps her weed out the important aspects of the topic at hand to make faster decisions. 

Her mind is racing as they climb the stairs on their way to bed. Mingyu stops at the door to his bedroom and looks at her with such hope on his face that she almost feels guilty for what she’s about to say. His face falls when Kamile tells him that she thinks it’s better for them to sleep in their own respective rooms tonight. Mingyu is a good sport about it, bidding her good night with a lingering kiss to her forehead. 

Falling asleep has never been a problem for Mingyu which is why he’s utterly confused when he’s still wide awake three hours after getting into bed. He’s in danger of pulling the sheets off of the mattress on one side from how much he’s been tossing and turning. 

This is bullshit. I’ve been sleeping fine every night. What’s the difference now?

Mingyu sits up to fluff his pillows. It doesn’t help. He kicks the ceiling fan up a notch. That doesn’t help either. He counts sheep, ducks, and even cows, but nothing is working. The longer he tries to avoid the obvious the more awake he seems to be. Sleeping in the guest room most nights to avoid arguing had taught him to sleep alone. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold her again, he’s ruined. He wonders briefly if Kamile is awake too. Is she just as restless too? 

He tosses and turns for the better part of another hour. The clock on his phone says that 3 a.m is quickly approaching and Mingyu caves. It takes less than ten seconds to cross the hall to her room, but practicing his explanation as to why he’s in her room at ass o’clock in the morning takes much longer. He knocks twice and pokes his head in.

“Kam?”

“You can’t sleep either, huh?” She asks without even turning to look at the man poking his head into her bedroom. 

Mingyu nearly collapses from sheer relief when Kamile simply reaches behind herself to lift the blankets after he confirms that he’s been unable to fall asleep just like her. He wastes no time sliding in behind her. Before he can even get it out of his mouth to ask, Kamile reaches back to find his arm, pulling it across her waist. 

“Good night, Gyu.” Kamile whispers. Her words are slurred as if she’s already half asleep. Mingyu kisses her shoulder, letting his lips linger against her skin.

“Good night, Kam.”

Day 6

A feather light touch to her lower lip is what prompts Kamile to open her eyes long before she’s ready. She pulls back slightly once her vision clears and she realizes just how close Mingyu’s face is to her own. He even has the audacity to laugh at her surprise.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He’s not sure how long he’s been watching her sleep, but he’d do it for the rest of his days. The pesky organ in his chest skips a beat as he holds Kamile’s gaze like a lifeline. He mulls over his next words very carefully, preparing for a possible rejection just as he did when he came to her room in the middle of night. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.” She whispers into the inch of space that separates them. 

Mingyu closed the gap slowly as if he’s giving her time to change her mind. Kamile sighs when his lips finally touch hers. One of his hands comes up to untie the silk scarf tied protectively around her head so that he can bury his hand in the curls he’s always been obsessed with. He uses his grip on her to guide her head as he deepens the kiss. 

She rolls onto her back and pulls him with her so that his much larger frame nearly covers hers entirely. Mingyu lets his primal instincts take over. Too lost in the way her lips are moving against his own. A groan rattles his chest when she squirms beneath him until his hips are situated between her thighs. The thin fabric of their respective underwear are the only barriers separating his aching erection from the place she needs him most. He can’t resist the urge to grind himself against her. If his brain wasn’t so clouded in lust, he’d probably have the mental capacity to feel a little embarrassed at just how quickly he’s risen to full mast. Kamile is floating somewhere beyond cloud nine when Mingyu’s hand that had been cradling her head moves to lightly grip her throat instead while the other rhythmically squeezes and pushes at her ass in time with his thrusts. Her head is tipped back in ecstasy as he kisses along her jaw.

It takes a herculean effort that he wasn’t totally sure he was even capable of, but Mingyu separates himself from the panting woman in his arms. He rocks back on his heels and Kamile’s eyes are immediately drawn to the tantalizing bulge at the apex of his shapely thighs. She reaches for him but Mingyu grabs her wrist before she can get her hands on him. He lifts her hand to his lips, pressing kisses to the back of it.

“Trust me when I say that I would love nothing more than to ravage you right now but if I’m going to be inside you again, I want you to have my ring on your finger.” Kamile starts to speak but stops when Mingyu presses his index finger to her lips. He traces the outline of her kiss swollen lips almost as if he’s in a trance. “I don’t want you to make a decision that you’re not totally comfortable with just because you’re horny. I want you to really want it. I want you to really want us. Now get up so I can feed you.”

A vulgar comment about what she really wants him to feed her crosses Kamile’s mind as Mingyu playfully swats at her thighs to get her moving. She respects his resolve and keeps it to herself but only barely. 

“It’s super nice outside. Wanna go for a walk?” Kamile would actually rather stay inside and enjoy the comforts of the air-conditioning, but Mingyu looks so excited that she finds herself giving in. She disappears upstairs to put on her sneakers mentally kicking herself for being so whipped for the man waiting for her by the patio door.

Mingyu laces his fingers between Kamile’s

They happen across a small stream during their casual stroll around the property. Kamile stops to look at Mingyu to see if he’s on the same wavelength as her. 

“Let’s do it.” 

Their shoes are abandoned under a tree near the creek before running full speed into the water.  The cooler temperature of the water feels like heaven. Kamile squeals when Mingyu splashes her with water. Mingyu suddenly lifts her over his shoulder, using the hand that’s not holding on to her to splash Kamile with more water. She’s out of breath from laughing when he finally lets her down only to steal the rest of her breath away when he surprises her with a kiss. 

“What was that for?” She’s slightly dazed both from the lack of oxygen and the searing kiss he’s just laid on her.

“Because.” He smirks at her before swooping in for yet another kiss.

“And that one?”

“Because part two.” Kamile giggles at his corniness even though she does her best not to give him the satisfaction of knowing it gets to her. Mingyu’s smile somehow gets even bigger at the sound of her laughter. He digs his fingers into his sides to prolong her laughter for his own enjoyment. 

They spend a little longer frolicking around before finally heading back to the house to shower and start on dinner. Kamile unsuccessfully lobbies to shower together but Mingyu is adamant in his refusal. He’s positive that the self-control he exhibited earlier that morning used up all the restraint he could’ve ever hoped to have for the next six months. There’s no way he’d be able to deny her. He kisses her quickly before running off to his own bathroom. 

Mingyu is totally and completely in love. He absentmindedly pushes his food around with his fork as he listens to Kamile rant about the mistreatment and near erasure of some X-Men character named Darwin. He’s got absolutely no idea what she’s talking about but she’s so passionate about it that he can’t help being fascinated. 

“Darwin’s whole entire superpower was that he could adapt to anything and you mean to tell me that robots designed to adapt to and counteract the powers of mutants were built off of Mystique’s DNA? Absolutely not. I might be a little-” Her rant is cut short by her phone ringing on the kitchen counter where she’d left it. She grumbles about being interrupted as she gets up to go get it. It’s Yeojin. 

Kamile returns to the table with her phone, choosing to sit in Mingyu’s lap for their daily check-in. The marriage counselor should get a kick out of that one. Sure enough, their seating arrangement is the first thing that Yeojin comments on. They take turns updating her on everything that’s occurred since they last spoke with her though they leave out some of the more sordid details. 

“This is what I like to hear!” She exclaims with an excited clap of her hands. “It seems that everything is going well right now. Is there anything we haven’t talked about this week that one of you wants to go over? If not, I’m comfortable ending the call here.” They say their goodbyes after confirming that they feel like they’re in a good place right now. Yeojin makes them swear to call her the moment they think they need her but she doubts that she’ll be hearing from them  until their follow-up appointment in a few days. 

Kamile makes to get up to return to her own chair but Mingyu stops her. She shrugs and reaches across the table to grab her own bowl. He smiles to himself as she resumes the rant that she’d been in the middle of before Yeojin’s call. He still has no idea what she’s going on about but he’s content to just listen to her vent. 

Day 7

Anxiety twisting her gut into knots is what eventually pulls Kamile from the bliss of sleep. Mingyu’s side of the bed is empty and she’s thankful for that to a certain extent. She heads for the shower, taking extra care with everything she does until she realizes how cowardly it is to stall like this. Deciding against putting on actual clothes, Kamile opts to just pull on one of oversized hoodies.

“Good morning!” Mingyu leans over to kiss her sweetly before turning back to the pan he’s tending to on the stove. He’s been doing that a lot since yesterday. Just randomly stealing kisses like he’s making up for lost time. 

“Just so you don’t get freaked out when they show up, I’ve got a private chef coming to cook us dinner tonight.” Mingyu mentions as they sit down to eat breakfast. She’s pleasantly surprised that he’s put in so much thought into their anniversary even though he’s yet to directly mention the fact that today is their anniversary. 

Today is their last day in their little safe haven away from the world and the status of their marriage is still technically up in the air. They both know that a decision needs to be made before they leave in the morning, but neither of them has brought it up. It’s like they’ve been tip toeing around the giant elephant in the room and expecting for it to just disappear on its own. 

Other than Mingyu making tteokbeokki, extra spicy and extra cheesy just the way Kamile likes it, they don’t really do much throughout the day. A majority of their time is spent tangled in each other on the couch just talking. They reminisce on the days when they’d first started dating. Kamile nearly falls off of the couch in a fit of laughter at Mingyu’s spot on impression of Vernon’s face when he’d caught them sneaking a few kisses in the dorm kitchen one day. Each memory is sweeter than the last and Kamile is overcome with the urge to make more of those memories. Now that she’s been able to let go of the anger and misplaced resentment that had made her bitter, she actually has hope in that possibility.

The heels of the platform pumps she’d decided on for the night click with every step as Kamile slowly descends the staircase. She’s determined not to let her natural clumsiness send her to the hospital on such an important day. Mingyu holds his hand out to her when she reaches the last few steps. He looks every bit the international superstar that he’s known to be.

“You look absolutely stunning.” Warmth spreads across her face at the whispered compliment. She barely manages to return the favor. Kamile’s nerves are starting to get the better of her and she hopes and prays that there’s wine on the table so that she can drink them away.

Thankfully, Kamile notices a bottle of white wine chilling in an ice bucket next to the table when Mingyu leads her into the dim dining room. The dinner prepared by the chef looks delicious and she’s can’t wait to taste it but wine is her first priority if she expects to make it through dinner without bolting. Her first glass is tipped down her throat in record time much to Mingyu’s amusement. He refills without hesitation though she chooses to actually sip that one as intended.

Conversation flows easily between them as they eat. However, the topic that deserves their attention the most continues to stew on the back burner as they talk about literally anything else. As nervous as Kamile was when she first came downstairs, Mingyu is doubly so. He’s done his almighty best to convince Kamile that their marriage is worth saving without outright begging her. Based on the past few days, he’s incredibly hopeful that she’ll come back home with him tomorrow and stay there but she’s always been a wildcard. You never truly knew what move she was going to make until she made it. The small velvet box in his pocket feels like a stone. During a lull in the conversation, Mingyu makes his move.

“Kamile,” He reaches across the table to grab both of her hands, “Four years ago you agreed to be my girlfriend and I thought that surely that was the happiest day of my life but then you said yes to being my wife and I knew then that I was wrong. You’re the most precious part of my life and I was a fool for not making sure that you knew that every day for the last year.”

Mingyu pauses to get down on one knee next to Kamile, pulling the ring box from his pocket. Her ring is nestled in the tiny velvet box. It sparkles brilliantly even in the dim lighting. “Kamile Kim, will you do me the honor of staying my wife?” 

Tears well up in Kamile’s eyes as she nods her head yes. She’d made countless lists and weighed her options, but in that moment she throws all of that logic to the wind. At the end of the day, Mingyu is the one. He always has been and he always will be. She can’t believe that she almost threw everything away over her own assumptions and insecurities. Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to slide the piece of jewelry onto her trembling hand when she holds it out to him. He stands, pulling her with him so that he can kiss her senseless. 

“I’ve been waiting to say this until I knew where we stood but….happy anniversary, babe.”

“Happy anniversary, Gyu.” She whispers against his lips before kissing him deeply once more. “Now take me upstairs.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.” 

[tuanhood]

lambda

pairing: frat!mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, enemies to lovers (kinda), smut, fluff

warnings: 18+, language, cringey frat stuff, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), explicit sex. 

word count: 11,400+

summary: your last choice was renting a room at a frat house over the summer, especially after you told yourself you were done with anything frat related, but when your ex ditches you last minute its your only option. now... if only you could stop dreaming about the president of lambda chi.

a/n: surprise again! mark won the poll!! but like I said i think i’m going to continue doing a frat one shot for each member. so it’ll be like a little anthology series!! but i have no clue when i will write the other once so please bare with me :) Also if there’s some frat stuff in here that doesn’t make sense just let me know in my ask or if you have any questions i’ll be happy to answer! 

alpha | delta | gamma | kappa | theta | sigma

“Who do you know here?” you found yourself being asked before even fully stepping onto the property.

The douchey guy with his backwards baseball cap and muscle tee – sporting his letters of course – looked you up and down as if trying to place you.

“No one actually.”

He looked confused, “wait seriously? You’re just going to admit that right off the bat? Usually people try to make something up.”

“See I’m not here to play games… Kyle? I’m guessing your name is Kyle. I have the unfortunate pleasure of living here over the summer, because this was the cheapest and most last-minute housing I could find. Now I’m just going to go up to my room and mind my own business while you and your brothers throw this stupid party that better be over before midnight.”

“You could have just said you live here…” the boy mumbled mostly to himself, “well welcome home and congrats on moving in! I’m Bambam by the way.”

He thrusted his hand forward to you, almost forgetting about the mob of people behind you waiting to get in and see if they pass the “vibe” check to get past the front door. You were sure in any other circumstance you would not be passing the vibe check.

“Wow Bambam…” you said to yourself considering the name. He looked delighted as if you were so enthralled by the unique quality of it. You were however, thinking about how Bambam was even worse than “Kyle.”

“And you are?” he asked.

“Dude can you stop flirting and keep the line moving! I’m trying to get wasted before 11!” someone yells from deep in the line behind you.

“Hey! I’m the one who says how fast or slow this line moves! Fuck off man or you can go find your own kick back,” Kyl- Bambam yelled.

Snorting, you rolled your eyes, “you call this a kick back?” You gestured to the full house behind him, deciding to leave out those who were sitting on the roof.

“If the normal school year isn’t in session and the house isn’t over 50% occupied with members, then it’s a kick back. Chapter rules.”

“Would love to see that rulebook, if you have it handy,” you laughed, joking. Somehow, Bambam didn’t get it and cocked his head to the side absorbing your comment, “you really want to see the rules? I mean I could bring it to you later if you-” 

“That’s fine Kyl-Bambam, I’m good. I’m just going to go inside now.”

“Bet, see you later.”

The way he said it makes you think that he means he’ll see you later at the party. That would however be completely wrong, because there was no way you were going to hang out with these disgusting egocentric heathens that just want to fuck and get drunk.

Fraternity housing hadn’t been you first choice for this summer. In fact, it probably hadn’t been your last choice either, but this is what you were stuck with. Staying at school over the summer had been a very last-minute choice – for reasons you weren’t ready to discuss – and by the time you were searching for housing, everything that was cheap and decent had been taken. Instead you were left with cheap and… chaotic.

“Whoa watch out!” You heard being yelled by some douche in a bucket hat as soon as you stepped into your new home.

It had been a week since you moved in, but you hadn’t made any effort to get to know any of the other people staying over the summer. Regardless of whether they were in the same predicament as you or if they were actually members of the org, you weren’t particularly interested in face to face time. After the Spring Quarter you had, you needed alone time and this summer you didn’t plan on making friends with your housemates… Especially if they were in a frat.

Your first week had actually, however, gone somewhat okay. No one had tried to interact with you – in fact you had barely seen anyone else in the house – and there had been no disturbing sounds or noises… It almost didn’t feel like you were living in a frat house, besides the urinals in the bathroom and the boxes of energy drinks that lined a few of the hallways. You were pleased to say the least, until you turned onto Greek row and heard all of the noise from the corner.

Please don’t be Lambda. Please don’t be Lambda. Please don’t be Lambda. Please don’t be Lamb-

The silent prayer in your head clearly hadn’t been heard as you had grown closer and closer to the house you were staying in. Lo and behold you had been met with a very large line of people waiting to get in, loud music and trash all over the lawn. What had you been expecting by choosing to live in a frat?

The bucket hat guy’s warning didn’t faze you. As soon as you process his words you placed your hand up to smack the Styrofoam football he had thrown to the ground. You weren’t in the mood for an obstacle course, you just wanted to get to your room and put in earplugs so you could rest before work tomorrow morning.

“Whoa you got mad fast reflexes. Do you play?” he asked grabbing the object off of the sticky floor.

You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious or not. But judging on the way he eyed you up and down, there were other things that were actually on his mind.

Side eyeing him, you snorted, “yeah… I’m not doing this,” you motioned your hand at him in circles and turned to head towards the main stairs. His words stopped you, “wow are we heading there already? Just give me a minute to tell my brothers I can’t watch drinks table anymore.”

Instinctively you cracked your knuckles, bucket hat guy found himself clearing his throat noticing the small detail that showcased your frustration. Turning around, it takes everything in you not to slap him, but more likely than not, this guy probably lived with you as well. Although you didn’t care for being friends with your housemates, it probably wouldn’t be a good look to be the housemate who slapped the people she shared a home with. So instead of a physical reaction, you simply clenched your jaw and went with the most basic response.

“I live here. I’m going to my room.”

Instead of showing any kind of shame or embarrassment for his very wrong estimate about where the situation was going, bucket hat clicks his tongue – almost in a disapproving way.

“Just watch out… we’re using the rooms on the second floor for hookup space. Or wait was it the third?”

As if you couldn’t have been more annoyed.

“What the fuck? How can you guys use the rooms up there when people are renting them out? How can you even use them when they’re locked?”

Bucket hat started to blink too much as if considering your very real query, “The President has a master key to all the rooms. What do you expect deciding to live in Greek housing for the summer?”

If you had known how much this frat didn’t care about personal space or just basic human rights, you would have never chosen to stay at Lambda Chi. In fact, you would have never chosen a fraternity at all – cheap price or not.

“Is it the second or third floor?”

“Don’t remember,” he hummed, no longer paying you any mind but twirling the football in his hand and eyeing a group of girls who had walked by.

Groaning, you snapped your fingers to regain his attention, “It makes a difference so remember.”

He shrugged and looked at you with an annoyed look on his face, “listen you’re kind of bringing my mood down… And I think I hear someone calling me from the kitchen so…” he pointed his thumb somewhere behind him, “I’m just gonna do that instead.”

Bucket hat guy leaves you standing in the main foyer, squished amongst other people, without another word. Although, you swear you heard him mutter something about you “not passing the vibe check.”

Left without a clue of what to do, you figured that the only viable option you had was to go find the President. Luckily bucket hat gave you one sliver of useful information.

Whipping around, you go to ask Bambam where exactly you could find the President, but he’s too enthralled in a conversation with one of the girl’s waiting in line to get in. It probably would do you more harm than good to get involved in that.

Searching around the space in the front of the house, you look for another brother who could perhaps help you with your task.

Right… Shouldn’t be too hard. Just look for someone who’s confident enough to think they’d be able to get out of a DUI.

A loud laugh caught your attention, it comes from a guy holding a Grey Goose bottle and letting random girls take pulls out of it.

Perfect.

You approached him, placing a gentle hand on his arm that holds the bottle to get his attention. He took notice of you immediately, giving you the same exact look bucket hat had given you earlier. What was up with these guys? They weren’t even trying to be subtle.

“You want a pull?” He asked with a smirk, shaking the bottle in his hand at you.

Shaking your head, you cleared your throat, “I’m looking for the President… Where would I find him?”

Grey Goose bottle guy wiggled his eyebrows at you. Gross. “Ah I see… you want Mr. President. I think he’s in his room.” You wanted to be cordial, but these people just weren’t making it easy.

“What room is his again?” You asked, batting your eyelashes in the most normal way possible – as if that was normal for you.

Grey Goose placed his hand under his chin and tapped it as if deep in thought. He paused and smiled, “I’ll tell you if you take a pull.”

Where were you right now? In what dimension was this actually happening to you? If you told your friends back home about having to take a pull from a bottle of Grey Goose in order to find the President of a fraternity to get him to stop maybe letting people hook up in the room you’re paying for, they wouldn’t believe you. You didn’t believe it.

Sighing you brought your hand up, in a “give it to me” motion. Grey Goose smiled proudly and brings the bottle up, tipping it into your mouth once you have your head leaned back and lips parted. It felt like forever by the time he finally brings the bottle up from your mouth. The burning sensation in your throat makes you want to throw up, and for a moment you think you are, but somehow you manage to take a deep breath and control yourself.

“That was awesome! I think you took like a shot and a half.” I know, you wanted to yell at him, but you bit your tongue. Usually pull meant a swig, not 66 milliliters of vodka.

Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, already feeling lightheaded, you repeated your earlier question, “what room is his?”

Grey Goose nodded, “he’s on the third floor. There’s a huge sign on the door that says President with the chapter’s crest, you can’t miss it.” If it truly was that easy, maybe you should have just gone looking yourself instead of being blackmailed into consuming alcohol the night before you had to work.

“Thanks,” you muttered to him, not bothering to wait and hear a response. You found yourself back at the main stairs, taking two steps at a time until you reached the third floor. It wasn’t long before you realized Grey Goose was right, his room wasn’t hard to miss.

Usually you were a rational thinker. You liked thinking out your thoughts before you turned them into actions, but in this case, you couldn’t stop yourself from knocking on the door as soon as you’re in front of it.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

There’s no answer. Was it possible he wasn’t in his room anymore? You tried again.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

This time your ears catch noise behind the door. There was someone inside, but they were just choosing to ignore you.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

This time the noise was clearer and you can make out specific words being said.

“Maybe they’ll just go away.”

Before you could stop your usual logical mind, you’re reaching for the doorknob – annoyed by this “President” who was trying to make you leave. To your surprise, the handle turns and you swung the door open slowly, being met with a mostly dark room aside from one bedside lamp being on.

“What the fuck?” The deep voice startled you as if you had been expecting no one to actually be on the other side of the door. What the hell were you doing?

Your eyes landed on the large bed in the middle of the room and you really wished you hadn’t. The two half naked figures on top of one another looked at you with wide eyes, the girl immediately grabbing the comforter to cover herself pushing the guy, causing him to fall off the bed.

“Are you for real right now?” the guy asked you from the floor, “get the fuck out!”

You felt frozen in your spot, your hand still on the door knob and unable to break your gaze from the boy on the floor. It was like you were a virgin again based on the way you were staring at his toned chest and muscular arms. You were certain if he hadn’t been sitting and crouched on the floor, you would be eyeing the black boxer briefs that rest on his hips.

“What’s wrong with you? I said get out!”

It’s almost as though his second demand for you to leave is what woke you up, suddenly mumbling a “sorry,” and shutting the door closed.

Opening the door to someone’s room without approval wasn’t something you typically did – you had simply done it as a reaction to the stressful situation you were in. Openly staring at a frat boy definitely wasn’t something you typically did either. It was like your brain had shut off and you weren’t going to let it happen again.

You continued standing in front of the door, unsure of what to do. Should you wait for him to… finish? Was that even the President? Maybe this was your sign that the third floor was the hook up floor. If so, then you were in the clear to go back to your room… so why didn’t your feet want to move?

“Mina come on! Don’t leave! We can keep going!” This time the voice behind the door is much louder and clear.

“You were dumb enough to leave it unlocked! I shouldn’t even be doing this anyways… my loyalty lies with Sigma Chi.” 

“What? Just because they’re Phi Mu’s affiliate frat? That’s bullshit!”

“My sisters will kill me if they find out I was with a Lambda,” you heard her say, her voice becoming louder signaling she was approaching the door.

“I don’t understand why that has to stop us from fucking though!”

The door swung open and you find yourself taking a step back, looking away to pretend like you weren’t eavesdropping. The girl glanced at you and rolled her eyes before ignoring the boy behind and heading down the hallway to go downstairs.

While pretending to be fixated on the wall’s chipped paint, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see the guy in his doorway, clearly annoyed at the situation. He ran his hand through his hair out of frustration and you can’t ignore how fluffy it looked. You watched him run it through three times, before you make yourself look away.

“You,” he grumbled pointing at you, “Here. Now.” He quickly turned, going back into his room, leaving the door open for you to follow. You think that maybe you shouldn’t follow him, but judging on the way he looked back at you with an intimidating stare, it was probably the right choice.

You awkwardly stood next to his desk and watched him reach into his closet to grab a robe to throw over his naked torso, shielding his body from you. As he tied it and sat down on the bed, leaning forward, you’re able to see a sliver of his chest and collarbone where the robe hangs down. It confused you as to why he wouldn’t just put his regular clothes back on, but you found yourself not being annoyed in the slightest at the display of skin.

His eyes bore into you, and it’s almost as though he’s waiting for you to speak first – to say something to make up for your invasion of his privacy.

“Are you the President?”

He looked at you as if you were insane, “what the hell does it say on the door?”

All of the annoyance and frustration that had fueled your fire downstairs, making you a woman on a rampage had dissipated. For some reason standing in front of this guy, you felt like a small child being talked down to. In any other situation you would fight back and show him you weren’t going to take his tone, but for some reason you couldn’t find it in you.

“I was just making sure… okay?”

Mr. President cracked his knuckles, “Why the hell did you barge into my room?” You don’t answer him. You were trying to think of what you would normally say or do to a guy like this, but your mind went blank once again. “You just cost me a hook up tonight, so speak.” His tone is a mixture of aggravated and bored – if that was something that was even possible.

“I mean you’re the one who left the door unlocked…” you mumbled to yourself, but the anger on his face signals that he heard. He threw up his hands, “That still doesn’t give you the right to just walk into a room that’s not yours.”

That really got you. You felt the flame within you being lit once again. “Look who’s talking.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re the one who’s letting people’s rooms be used for sex without their permission. Invading their privacy!” you growled.

Mr. President blinked at you blankly and judging on his reaction, it almost seemed like he didn’t know what you were talking about. Oh… he’s good.

“Excuse me? What kind of place do you think this is? This isn’t an authoritarian regime.”

You took a step forward to where he sat on the bed, waving your finger, “then explain to me why one of your little minions downstairs told me that.”

“I have no clue who would tell you that… or why.”

“Bucket hat… football,” those are the only two words you can think of to describe him, but you hoped that would be enough. Almost instantly he nodded, “Ah Jaebeom… Yeah he was definitely just fucking with you.”

You took a step back out of shock. This was all a joke? These idiot Lambda Chi boys had been playing you? “So, I took a pull from Grey Goose guy’s bottle for nothing? I came up here for nothing? I walked in on you and Ms. Phi Mu for nothing?”

He ignored your comment about the girl’s sorority, a clear admission that you had been listening through the door, “Grey Goose? Do you mean Youngjae?”

The last fifteen minutes had filled you with enough inconveniences, stress, annoyance and embarrassment to feel like a lifetime… and this was only after one week of living in this house. How were you going to last the entire summer? Deal with all of the parties… the douchey boys objectifying you and treating everything like it was a funny joke. Not to mention their chapter’s President who seemed bitter and rude. Surprisingly attractive… but bitter and rude.

Instead of confirming Mr. President’s suspicions that Grey Goose guy was indeed this Youngjae person, you nodded solemnly towards the direction of his door, “I’m going to my room.”

“Wait… you’re living here over the summer?”

When he asked the question, you begin to feel the alcohol you had consumed earlier. Instead of feeling drunk it made you feel dizzy, tired and heavy. It made you feel even more defeated than you already felt from your sudden reality that this was your life for the next three months.

You threw up an unenthusiastic thumbs up and slowly made your way to the door. He looked at you stunned for your sudden disengagement in the conversation you were having. Although to you it didn’t feel like a conversation. Conversations were meant to be constructive, collaborative… Whatever this was, wasn’t that.

You’re in the doorway when he speaks again, “It’s Mark by the way… for when you dream about me later.”

Clenching your fists, you don’t give him the satisfaction of looking back no matter how much you weirdly want to. To see his fluffy hair, bounce as he shakes his head from side to side, that golden tanned skin, his huge-

That’s enough.

That night it takes you nearly two hours to fall asleep. You spend the first hour with a pillow over your head, trying to drown out the party downstairs. The second however, is spent thinking about one… Mr. President. It makes you feel nauseated and when you finally wake up for work the next the morning, all you can remember is the fluffy hair in your dream.

Four days had passed since the party and you hadn’t run into any of the brothers since then. No Kyle, no bucket hat, no Grey Goose. Or Bambam, Jaebom and Youngjae… or whatever. And no Mark. Not that you had been thinking about seeing him again.

Those four days felt peaceful – normal almost, that was until now. Those calming four days came to an end when you came home from your afternoon shift at work, the guys all sitting on the front porch with beers in their hands.

You were quite aware of “porch” culture amongst the fraternities at your school. The members would drag ratty old indoor furniture such as loveseats and armchairs onto the porch near the front door and sit there for hours. They’d drink their beers, play their loud music and shout things at people walking by. Yes, you knew porch culture very well… It was how you had met your ex-boyfriend.

“Well look who we have here!” Jaebeom – sans bucket hat – shouted as you began walking up the path to the porch, “haven’t seen you since the party sweetheart.”

“Shut up man you can’t say that stuff anymore. Feminism and all that,” Bambam said hitting Jaebeom’s shoulder. If you were held at gunpoint and forced to pick a favorite out of them – it would probably be Bambam. He had done the least to annoy you thus far, but you weren’t holding your breath.

“I’m going inside,” you hoped your emotionless tone is enough to get them to leave you be and just get into the house. You’d rather not spend any more time than you have to with the guys – especially during porch time.

“Heard you got history on the row Y/n,” Youngjae’s words made you stop in your tracks. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about, especially with them. You gave Youngjae a death glare, trying to communicate with him to keep his Grey Goose filled mouth shut.

The way Mark looked up at you behind his IPA doesn’t go unnoticed by you. In his mind he was trying to be discrete. He tried to present a look that was a mixture of intrigue but also indifference, even though in reality he was eager to hear his friend’s story about you.

“Some Sigma Chi history to be more specific,” Youngjae wiggled his eyebrows and you have to stop yourself from slapping the smile off of his face.

If there was anything you truly knew about frat guys, it was that every action they did or thing they said was all meant to get a reaction out whatever person they’re torturing. Acting like you didn’t care was going to bring the stakes down for Youngjae and he would ditch the story altogether. Clearing your throat, you shrugged your shoulders, “yeah so what. It’s history and history is in the past so… that’s all that needs to be said.”

He looked at you with the same stupid smile and it doesn’t falter at all. You must have shown too big of a reaction in your response.

“You dated Ryan for almost a year – I’d say that’s a record for someone at Sigma Chi,” him and the boys laughed – all of them except Mark who’s still looking at you, but pretending not to.

You tell yourself not to get upset, not to get angry or cry – because that’s what they wanted from you. Here they were treating the “relationship” you were in like a joke and you had to remain a stone wall, unaffected. Well fuck that.

“Yeah it was a record for me falling for the stupid and douchery of the typical frat guy who was actually fucking other girls the entire time unbeknownst to me because in actuality he never considered us together. But hey what can you do when you’re dealing with guys who have big egos and small dicks?”

The boys stared at you with blank faces, you swear you see Mark smile behind his bottle.

“Is she talking about us too?” Jaebeom whispered to Bambam, “Dude… I think maybe.” Without another word, you pushed open the front door aggressively, making sure it closes behind you loudly.

You don’t know why you thought your “relationship” with your ex-boyfriend was going to work out. The two of you had met because you had been passing by his house during porch time and he cat called you. What the fuck were you thinking? Even at that point you had thought guys in fraternities were terrible, but for some reason that day you just went along with one of them objectifying you… And you fucking made him into your “boyfriend.” That day you had been feeling insecure and low – that was the only explanation you had for your out of character actions.

Being with Ryan only continued your influx of out of character actions. You spent all you free time with him when you weren’t in school or working. Apparently however, all of his free time hadn’t been spent with you. The truth came out after you had planned on staying with him over the summer at his family’s lake house. It had been something you two had talked about for months and when you were only a month away, he had hit you with a bomb.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this live together thing over the summer. Samantha might get mad.”

To which you had asked, “who’s Samantha?” Then the guy who you had thought was your boyfriend went on to explain how the other girl he was seeing – Samantha – would get jealous if he brought you to the lake house instead of her. The next thing to come out of your mouth was a big “fuck you” and “I never want to see you again.” Hence why your decision to stay at school over the summer was so last minute and you were forced to stay in a fraternity house which was so much like the one your heart had been broken in only a month earlier.

You should have known Ryan wasn’t serious about you – no frat guy at your school would ever be serious with an unaffiliated girl like you. The sex should have told you how serious he was. It would always be the fast, rough kind of fucking where he mostly had you in doggy position or with your mouth around his dick. There was none of the lazy, slow passionate sex that came when you were actually serious or mesmerized by someone.

“What the hell is up with Sigma Chi getting all the hot girls?” you heard Jaebeom ask from the porch. The idiots had left the front window open so anyone could hear what they were talking about – but there weren’t really any boundaries when it came to brotherhood. Instead of leaving and going upstairs, you remained frozen in your spot with an ear positioned to the window. For some reason it seemed like living in this house was turning you into an eavesdropper.

“Guys don’t talk about her like that.” The chiming in from Mark surprised you, he had been so silent outside when you had been present that you didn’t really expect him to defend you.

“Oh really, why?”

“She’s not just a hot girl…” Mark paused for dramatic effect and you can practically hear all the guys on the edge of their seats, “she’s a super-hot girl.” You rolled your eyes as he finished his thought about you, the guys all giving him high fives and verbal agreement.

“So, what do you say Mr. President? Gonna try to hit that?”

Mark didn’t answer the second question, “Mr. President?”

Bambam laughed, “Oh yeah I overheard her on the phone the other night and that’s what she called you.” Okay maybe Bambam was no longer your favorite, “Mr. President and his fluffy hair.” You aren’t sure if you should be embarrassed because of him exposing you or offended because of the voice he uses to mimic your own. You did not sound like that.

Once again, all the guys laugh, but this time you can’t hear Mark’s own stand out giggling in the mix. For some reason you wished you could see his face right now. That’s when you decide it’s probably best to go upstairs.

“Take it, take it all,” Mark growled into your ear as he thrusted into you at a brutal pace. You couldn’t respond to him; your mind was too hazed over with pleasure.

“Wow my cock’s that good that you forgot how to speak? I know you think you’re smarter than me, but it looks like you’re wrong. All it takes is for me to be inside of you for one fucking minute for you to act like you don’t even know your own name.”

He’s right. He’s so right and all you can do is agree with him.

He brings his hand down between the two of you to rest on your clit, tapping his finger at the same pace he pumps into you at. “I know you think I’m a dumb frat boy who’s only good at drinking and partying, but how about now, hmm? Don’t you think I’m good at fucking this tight pussy?”

You awake with a gasp. You’re covered in sweat and your hand has somehow found its way underneath your shorts and underwear. Why the fuck were you having a sex dream about Mark? It felt like your entire body was on fire, even your fan being on the high setting wasn’t going to help you in cooling down.

Getting out of bed, you decided to head downstairs to the kitchen. What you needed was a popsicle and a bag of ice. The ice was to help how hot you felt, the popsicle was a distraction from thinking about whatever the fuck your subconscious had just come up with.

“Hello?” The voice coming out of nowhere causes you to jump as you swing one of the freezers in the large kitchen open. You attempted to squint your eyes in the darkness to make out who the voice belongs too, but it’s too difficult to see.

“If you keep your eyes like that, you’re going to ruin your vision,” the lowness of the voice takes you back to only moments ago in your room when you had been hot and absolutely bothered. It was the same voice from your dream.

“What are you doing down here?” you asked, moving your head around the space, still unable to properly see him.

Suddenly, Mark’s face comes into view as he stepped closer to you so he could be seen in the light of the freezer, he’s so close, you hold your breath, “what? No hello?”

You scoffed, “I usually don’t when people are just down here sitting in the dark.” Mark doesn’t respond to your comment about him lurking and positioned his glance to where your hand was placed in the freezer, “feeling hot?” Your eyes went wide, “w-what?”

He pointed to you hand resting on the box of popsicles, “the popsicles…” Laughing awkwardly you pulled one out from the package and go to reach for an ice pack, “oh… yeah.”

Mark nodded his head, “it’s pretty hot tonight… That’s why I came down here. You know heat rises and all that stuff… I’m on the third floor so…” he drifted off and his tone sounds off, unlike when you had first met him. He almost sounded nervous?

“Listen… I want to apologize for the guys on the porch the other day. They brought up all that stuff about you and your Sigma Chi dude… and it wasn’t cool.” You don’t think about the fact that he called you super-hot and laughed with all the guys, but instead you focus on how surprisingly genuine Mark sounded.

“I’m sorry too about coming into your room and ruining your night.”

“Nah you didn’t ruin my life,” there’s a weird pause and it makes you look away from him, but he’s quick to continue, “I mean that girl was just some stupid Phi Mu bimbo.” Without thinking about it, you hit his arm and he flinched at the pain, “ow!”

“You can’t call a woman stupid or a bimbo just because she wouldn’t sleep with you!” He placed his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry! I’m still learning.”

Mark reached behind you into the freezer and grabbed a popsicle himself. When his arm brushes your shoulder and he gets close enough that you can feel his breath on your face you feel the same pulsing in your core from your dream.

“You should probably eat that… It’ll melt,” he motioned to the popsicle in your hand once he’s back in his original spot, “and close the freezer.”

“Right…” you nodded. It felt like you suddenly lost all intellect when you were around this guy, what was happening to you? It had happened with Ryan… but not on this scale at all.

Shutting the freezer, you’re both met with the darkness of the kitchen. This time you’re able to focus in on Mark’s face despite it being pitch black, both of you opening the wrappers of your icy dessert.

“Besides…” Mark began, going back to the previous topic, “from what I’ve learned… sorority girls are trouble. Not really what I’m looking for. I’d much rather be with someone unaffiliated.” His words caused you to choke on your popsicle, coughing until you feel like there’s no breath in you. Mark’s thankful for the darkness, otherwise you’d see his smile at you being so caught off guard.

“Are you okay?” He asked patting your back, just as you’re at the end of your coughing fit.

You nodded your head, but then realize he probably couldn’t see your gesture at being fine, “yeah I’m okay… just… went down the wrong pipe, ya know?”

“Oh, I know.” The way he said it almost suggests something, but you try not to think about it. Otherwise your panties were going to get more damp than they already were from earlier.

Mark takes a deep breath in and sighs after a moment, “I know you think I’m a dumb frat boy who’s only good at drinking and partying-” he began, but you cut him off immediately when you recognize his choice of words.

No fucking way.

They were the words from your dream. You felt your heart beat out of your chest and you became worried. You really didn’t want to hear what he was going to say next.

“I’m going to bed!”

“What?” Mark feels confused at your sudden announcement and the way you quickly rush out of the kitchen, the sound of your feet running up the stairs the only reply to his question.

You were strange… that was for sure. But he kinda liked it.

Smiling to himself, Mark finished up his popsicle in the darkness and headed upstairs to go to sleep.

“Mark fuck… please fuck me.”

“Oh, is that all you want from me? Is that all I’m good for?”

You aren’t sure what to say, what you need to do to convince him. “N-no.”

“Then tell me… what do you want from me... Really?”

The quick racing of your heart awoke you from your dream. Fuck… not another one.

Should you go see a therapist? Why was this happening to you? It was the third night in a row you had woken up to a Mark Tuan sex dream. This one however, felt different. Unlike the two before it where he was rough with you – this one it seemed like dream you wanted more. Of course, dream you wanted to still be fucked senseless by him – aka the frat boy way – but she was also holding back. She wanted more. She wanted something else. But what?

Climbing out of your bed, you trail down the hallway to the bathroom.

During normal term time all of the bathrooms were for the guys living in the house, but luckily for you they made a few of the bathrooms in the house “ladies only” for the few girls living in the house over the summer. You pushed the door of the bathroom open, being met with the now familiar poorly drawn and weirdly sexual woman stick figure picture taped over original sign.

Expecting to see an empty bedroom, you felt your jaw drop to the floor at Mark’s naked figure in the shower. He hadn’t even bothered closing the curtain.

You felt like you couldn’t move, you felt like you couldn’t think. With his eyes closed under the stream of water, your eyes trailed down his muscular shoulders to his toned abdomen, slowly going down to his length. The same one you had been dreaming about for the last three nights and your fantasies certainly didn’t do it justice.

Before you could truly comprehend the creepiness level of what you were doing, you heard Mark yelp in shock.

“What are you doing!” he yelled, grabbing the curtain from the side and moving it over the lower half of his body.

Your mouth went dry, “I-I-” You attempted to say something, but you felt your eyes watch the droplets of water that cascade down his skin.

“Y/n!” His words snapped you back into motion and you look up at him. It was difficult to say whether the redness on his cheeks were coming from the heat of the water or from his embarrassment of the situation. Mark himself wasn’t sure.

“I- this is the girl’s bathroom. Why are you in here?”

“This bathroom has the best water pressure in the house… I thought since it was so late no one would come in,” he stuttered.

Even though you’re supposed to be having a conversation with him, you find yourself still thinking about how he looked when you first walked in. How long and thick his cock was.

Still recovering from your dream and the peep show you had just been exposed to, you find yourself moving closer to the shower, “you didn’t even close the curtain… It’s almost like you wanted someone to come in here and find you.” He doesn’t say anything, but you make no mistake of noticing the way he grips the curtain harder against his body and the way his breathing gets heavier.

“Did you want someone to find you?” You’re so close to him now that you can feel the steam from the shower opening your pores.

Mark licked his lips, “maybe I wanted you to come find me.”

“Maybe or you did?”

“You know… you do kind of owe me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. What was he talking about? Weren’t you guys being all sexy? Weren’t you about to do something?

At your nonresponse he smirked and dropped the curtain, revealing all of himself to you once again, “you cockblocked me, so now it’s time for you to make up for it.”

Just like that with your core beginning to throb almost painfully at how much it wants to be touched, you’re set into motion. You join him in the shower, not even caring about getting your pajamas wet. It’s almost as if no logic matters in this moment to you, instead it’s all about you and Mark and your desires for one another.

He pulled you into a heated kiss, pulling you flush against his soaking wet body. You feel his length pressed up against you and you moaned instinctively at the feeling. Your hands roam up and down his body, feeling those muscles you had been obsessing over since your first encounter, stopping when your hand reaches his hardened member.

Instantly Mark groaned out at the feeling of your hand slowly stroking him. He had already felt sensitive and worked up as he had already been thinking about having you under him before you had entered the bathroom.

Mark’s noises send you into another moment of not caring about reality as you kneeled down before him. In any other situation you would be disgusted at the fact that you were willingly on your knees on the floor of a frat’s shower, but this wasn’t any other situation.

You plunge yourself onto him, mouth wide and your tongue lapping at his head. The sudden and almost vicious sucking nearly caused Mark to lose his balance and slip. You pay no mind to the water cascading down your back and beginning to weigh down your hair as you feel yourself be spurred on by the grunts and moans leaving Mark’s mouth.

As you moved more him into your mouth getting a mixture of pre-cum and water dripping from the corners of your lips, you felt Mark buck his hips into you further. The sudden fullness in your mouth until his head was at the back of your throat made you choke around him, Mark bringing his hand to the top of your head to stroke your hair.

“I know how good you are at choking. I know how much you love it, keep fucking going.”

The vibrations from you moaning at his words caused Mark to throw his head back, “show me how much you want my cum. Moan for me, show me.”

Bobbing your head up and down his length, you make no mistake as you continue your noises around him – not for his benefit, but you genuinely felt turned on at just giving him head.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” before he finished his thought, you felt his warm release in your mouth and you make sure to swallow it instantly.

The sounds of the shower running and Mark’s heavy breathing, coming down from his climax fill the bathroom. It feels like you could just stay here on your knees forever listening to the sounds and you would be fine.

Once Mark catches his breath, he leant down to grab your hand and lifted you up off the wet – and probably filthy – ground. He pulls you into his arms and placed a kiss on your forehead, “damn what the hell am I going to do with you?”

It’s like his words mean more than what he’s going to do with you in the bedroom and somehow that is the thing that finally snapped you into reality. It’s not seeing him naked; it’s not kissing him; it’s not getting down on your knees and suck him dry and it certainly isn’t swallowing his cum. What the hell am I going to do with you?

What the hell was he going to do with you? And what the hell were you going to do with him? The two of you didn’t make sense and you had to remind yourself that you were in a frat house… doing things of a sexual nature with a frat bro. You were not going to find yourself trapped like you were with Ryan. You had sworn off the kind of guy Mark is. You needed to leave it here… no matter how wet and turned on you were right now.

You took a step back, away from Mark and out of his arms, “I- um I should get dry.”

Mark took a step forward and you took another back. He cocked his head to the side, “well… let me help you.” His seductive gaze doesn’t go unnoticed to you, but you have to think with your head for a second. You had already gone against your own “no more frat boys, they can’t commit” beliefs once, you couldn’t do it a second time. You had to quit while you were ahead.

“I’m going to head to bed,” you stepped down from the shower and onto the bathroom tile. Mark lost for words at your sudden distance, “what? Why? Let me take care of you… You haven’t-” Waving your hands, you cut him off not wanting to hear it, “Mark… Don’t. Let’s just leave this at this. Me blowing you because I owed you one…” when it comes out of your mouth, you realize just how ridiculous it all sounded.

Mark took a step toward you, also coming out of the shower and reached to grab his towel, wrapping it around his waist. “Leave it at this? Y/n… I don’t think you understand, I-”

“Mark, I know the kind of guy you are. It’s who your friends are, it’s who all the guys living in this house are, it’s who my fucking ex-boyfriend was. I really can’t do another guy who’s just going to fuck me like I’m an object and be under his charming douchey spell, thinking that he’s all mine. I already did it once and if I did it twice, I think it would kill me. I’m sorry if I led you on or whatever by sucking your dick and making you think that we were going to fuck… and as much as my body wants to, I know it would be smart for me.”

Despite the seriousness of your words and confession, Mark found himself chuckling at the end of your monologue. He’s laughing at your word choice of “sorry if I led you on or whatever by sucking your dick,” but you don’t think about it that way. You think he’s laughing at all of it.

Typical frat guy, you think.

When he noticed the way, your mouth turned into a frown, he feels his heart leap out of his chest. He didn’t want to see you upset… ever. If he could just take some time to talk out how he was feeling to you, then maybe you’d understand how he was – “Goodnight Mark. I’d ask you not to tell you friends about this, but I know you will.”

And just like that you’re gone.

Two weeks and there had been no words exchanged between you and Mark. He had tried countless times to get your attention and talk to you, but you acted as if he didn’t exist. It didn’t go unnoticed by the other people in the house. Bambam prided himself on picking up on sexual tension and when he saw the way you and Mark acted around each other on that day on the porch, he felt it. Sure, the two of you hadn’t said anything, but Bambam could feel the pull between the two of you.

Although previously you didn’t talk to Mark that often in general, Bambam could sense something had happened – something wasn’t right between the two of you. It made him upset to see his brother so down, so… emotional.

“Guys… We have to do something about this Mark and Y/n situation,” Bambam said as he watched Jaebeom and Youngjae practice their beer pong aim in the backyard.

Youngjae looked at him confused, “what do you mean Mark and Y/n situation? There’s something going on there?”

Bambam felt like he wanted to hit him. How Youngjae could be so clueless? He wasn’t sure. “Do you not understand basic human emotions?” The older boy blinked at him mindlessly, before going back to throw the ball at the cups on the other side of the table.

“So anyways… I was thinking we could-”

“That was two! That was two! It totally hit the side of the other cup before it went in!” Youngjae yelled, interrupting Bambam’s big idea.

“Are you kidding? No way. Just take the one or I won’t even give you that,” Jaebeom rolled his eyes, he had enough of Youngjae’s cheating.

“What do you mean you won’t even give me that one? It went in!”

“Guys!” Bambam yelled, interrupting their bickering over the trivial game. They both looked at him with wide eyes, “Can you listen to me? I have a plan.”

Yawning, you decided it was probably time to head in for the night. It had been another long week of trying not to think about Mark.

You barely knew anything about the guy… but for some reason you had this weird pull to him. Deep inside your stomach you had this feeling telling you that this was the guy for you, he could be the one. You pushed it all down, your mind was just playing tricks on you – you were delusional thinking he could be the one.

Heading down the hallway to the bathroom – yes, the same bathroom – to brush your teeth you spot Youngjae coming down the corner. You tried your best to avoid his gaze, it was better safe than sorry to just proceed by ignoring Mark’s friends too.

Out of the corner of your eye as you pass one another, you notice the strange way he stares at you. It’s almost in a diabolical way… but that wouldn’t make sense, right?

Weird.

You’re probably on your sixth yawn when you finally head back to your room, reaching the door and going to turn the handle. Except… the handle won’t turn and your door won’t open.

No, this can’t be happening right now…

Trying again a few more times, you realize it had somehow locked on you. And you… like the idiot you are, left the key inside when you went to the bathroom. Was God playing some kind of sick joke on you? How were you supposed to go to sleep tonight?

That’s when it dawned on you that there was only one option.

The President has a master key to all the rooms

Jaebeom’s words flashed in your head over and over again. You tried to think of something else that could get you back in your room and under your warm covers tonight, but you come up short. You had to go up to Mark’s room.

Slowly going up the stairs to the third floor, you find yourself on the borderline of passing out at how completely nauseous and lightheaded you feel. The only way you could truly make this out alive was if you just pretended to be confident.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The door swung open immediately after the third knock, Mark looking surprised to see you at his door.

He felt his hands grow clammy, “Uh… What’s up?”

“I-I locked myself out of my room… And I heard the President as the master key so… here I am.” Mark felt his heart fall at the reason for your visit. Some stupid part of him had thought that maybe you were here for him and not a key to your room, “yeah… just give me a minute.”

Mark stepped inside and you reluctantly follow him, letting the door shut behind you with a bang. Both of you jump at the noise and softly laugh when you notice.

“I get scared easily,” you mumbled.

Mark snorted, “I can tell.”

Crossing your arms, you moved towards him, “What’s that supposed to me?”

“What do you think? That you’re too scared to explore anything you have with someone, because you got hurt once. Tough, Y/n but getting hurt and let down is a part of life,” he looked at you once as he fumbled through his drawer, looking for the key.

“It’s not just that I’ve been hurt. You’re a-” He cut you off, rolling his eyes done with your overdone argument, “I’m a frat guy, I get it. We’re all the same, blah blah blah. Save it for your dissertation on how I’m scum for your Psych class or whatever.”

“I don’t think you’re scum,” you said softly.

Mark shut the drawer, unable to locate the key in this part of his desk and turned to you, “then why do you hate me so much?”

You shuffled in place, unsure of what do with all of these pent-up feelings that not even you were sure how to describe – and you were the one feeling them. “I don’t hate you. In fact, that’s the problem… I like you so much, I’m so attracted to you and I barely know you! I’ve had so many dreams about you that it’s made it all even worse.”

Before you could stop him, you felt Mark’s lips on yours and you find yourself being suffocated again – sidetracked from your original intentions of forgetting him. However, the way his mouth moved against yours and the way his tongue slipped past the crease of your lips made you not care. But of course, he was a good kisser, he probably did this all the time to all the girls.

You felt his fingers grip the hem of your top. He bunched the material just below your breasts as his hands splayed across your ribcage. He allowed you to pull away, your chest heaving and your eyes closed, before he tugged the material of your top up and over your head. The two of you looked at each other, as if absorbing what the two of you were doing.

When he dropped the fabric onto the floor, he moved his mouth to your neck. He can’t help himself as he marked your collarbones with his teeth, every inch of you is practically covered with marks when he’s done. While your mind is caught up in the feeling of his lips on your neck, his hands moved to cup your breasts.

He made you feel so damn good, you didn’t care anymore.

“Mark,” you breathed as you shifted your head to give him better access, “d-do whatever you want. Fuck me however you want. Just do something.” 

You could feel the vibrations of Mark’s laughter against your neck as he reached around your back to unsnap your bra before he pulled away to watch the material fall to the floor. His eyes glued to your chest for a moment, his pupils darkening with lust, before he returned his lips to yours in a heated kiss. 

Your hands dipped beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. You allowed your hands a moment to roam, before you break the kiss and tugged the material of his shirt up and over his head. Once again you feel hypnotized by his chest, just as you had been the first night you met him. You wanted to trace your finger over every muscle, every vain and every inch of skin. Mark helped you out of your pajama pants and returned his lips to your neck. 

“As much as I would love to do fuck you until you feel me in every single part of your body, I want to take my time. To show you just how beautiful you are, just how much I want you.” 

In your sex induced brain you have a moment of clarity to consider his words. Take his time? Weren’t frat boys supposed to be rushed, quick and just be rough with you? You had not a doubt in your mind that Mark would be able to deliver on that, based on how he had first acted around you… but slow? Sensual? Was he even capable of that? You weren’t expecting him to be so… soft and delicate. It wasn’t a part of his brand. 

This time when Mark brings his lips back to you, they’re much softer – he kissed you at an unhurried pace as if he had all the time in the world with you. He gently nudged you to lay on your back, your fingers going to tangle themselves in his fluffy hair. He brings his fingers to curl at the waistband of your panties, “is this okay?” he breathed against your lips. You feel yourself begin to grow more wet at his ask for consent. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled, your eyes closed and your hands tugging at his hair, “more than okay.” 

With your permission, Mark slipped his hand into your panties. Brushing your folds lazily, his fingers gentle and unhurried as he allowed you to pull away and catch your breath. When he brushes your clit and felt yourself jolt in surprise beneath him. He attached his lips to your neck and began pressing kisses along the column of your throat. 

No words are spoken as you moved one hand from his hair and gently squeezed his hardening cock over his sweats. Mark moaned against your skin and moved his fingers a little quicker but not changing his lazy pace as he worked to rile you up. It doesn’t take long as he slipped a finger into your heat and hears you release a content sigh at the feeling. 

“You’re so gorgeous usually,” he whispered against the column of your throat as one of his hands go up to pay attention to your breasts, kneading them gently. “But, fuck, you’re even better naked.” 

At that you laughed, “You’re not so bad yourself Mr. President, you know for a frat guy and all.” He smiled at you, capturing your lips in another kiss, nudging his sweatpants and briefs down. 

The continual strokes of his fingers, working you open along with his hand on your breast makes you feel dizzy. You attempt to focus your attention elsewhere, pressing kisses to his heated skin as he rubbed your clit with his thumb. 

You could feel Mark shifting above you, reaching for the stash of condoms next to his bed, before he ripped open the foil packet and pulled away to roll the latex onto his length. His slowness practically drove you to insanity, you just wanted him inside of you now. 

“Mark please, I want it.” 

Smiling at you, he leaned forward to press a kiss on your forehead, “princess you’re going to get it all.” 

Mark returned his lips to yours as he sank into you. His pace is slow, lazy and soft, as he began fucking into you. You had always thought that slow and sensual sex was the best kind of sex, but maybe you were wrong. With Mark it felt like your whole body was on fire – it was pure torture. The way he jutted his hips into you at a rhythm had your core aching for more. It was like all of your senses were heightened, everything felt so much more pleasureful with the way your body was hanging on every thrust. 

He buried his face into the crook of your neck and groaned as he felt you tug at his hair again. You felt like you were going to go insane and you needed something to grab onto. For you, Mark was willing to do or be whatever you wanted – something he had never remotely thought of doing for anyone ever, including the guys in the fraternity. He was ready to be at your beck and call, to take you like this – making you feel every single stroke, every single time pump into you. 

Mark brings his hand between the two of you back to your core and circled your clit once again, allowing you to fall over the edge. “I know you’re going to look so pretty when you cum, please cum for me. I’ve been thinking about it since that night in the shower.” 

His mention of the shower brings you back to thinking about how good it felt to have him in your mouth, how good he tasted when he came on your tongue, how much you’d like to be on your knees for him again. These final thoughts have you clenching around Mark, his groaning getting more consistent telling you that he’s close. He nipped at your skin and sucked the spot under your jaw at the same time he thrusted himself at a semi-faster pace, hitting your g-spot. That finally makes every part of your body go numb, and you feel your hips buck forward involuntarily, everything in you spasming. 

As he watched your strong release and felt your walls throb around him, Mark began falling over the edge himself. You felt his hips stutter, his breathing shallow, and his hand clenched your hip firmly as he spilled into the condom and you found yourself wanting the moment to last forever as he remained on top of you. You feel him everywhere, warm and solid and entirely him. He pressed a kiss to your lips, another lazy peck, before he pulled away to tie the condom, tossing it somewhere on the ground of his messy room. 

“Are you really just going to throw that on the ground?” you laughed. Mark shrugged, “what if you forget about it later?” 

He smiled, wrapping his arms around your naked body and brings you as close to him as he can, “nah there’s no way I would forget this.”

Two Months Later

It was hard to believe that summer was finally ending and the new school year was right around the corner. No longer would be stuck in what you once considered was your own personal Hell – the Lambda Chi Alpha house. 

The personal Hell had somehow shaped itself into one of the biggest blessings of your life. It had given you Mark Tuan. 

“Finally, you’re home!” Mark smiled, patting the open spot next to him on the love seat at your return from work. 

As soon as you plopped down, Mark pulled you close to him, resting one arm around your shoulder and the other on your thigh, “want the aux cord?” he mumbled into your shoulder, nuzzling the side of his head against it. 

“No! She always gets aux cord when she’s porchin’ it up with us! It’s not fair! She plays that weird K-pop stuff and makes us the laughing stock of the whole street!” Jaebeom whined. 

You laughed, “Don’t knock it until you try it!” 

“I have tried it and I hate it,” Jaebeom quipped back, crossing his arms to show his firm disagreement on the matter. 

“Fine let’s do One Direction this time.” 

“Like that’s any better!” 

“Can you guys shut up I’m trying to think of something to say to that girl,” Youngjae grumbled in annoyance at your bickering with Jaebeom. 

You looked to see a girl walking by the house. Judging on her large backpack, casual clothes and tired face she had been at the library. You doubt she would be up for any unwarranted cat calling. “Don’t say anything!” 

Youngjae looked at you confused, “what… I’m trying to shoot my shot.” 

“As a girl, please trust me when I say don’t.” Youngjae pursed his lips in thought, “not even if I just tell her she has a nice smile?” You look at the girl frowning, “she’s not smiling and no not even that.” 

“Get a load of this guy,” Bambam said as a guy in Phi Kappa Tau letters walks by – most likely to his house. Judging on all of the times you’ve spent on the porch with the boys now, you knew what was coming. Standing up, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “PHI KAPPA TAU SUCKS.” The guy turned to the porch, eyeing Bambam and flipped him off. 

Sitting down, Bambam shakes his head, “it’s because he knows it’s true.” 

“Will you ever listen to me and realize that it’s stupid to shout at another frat?” you asked. 

Bambam shook his head firmly, “you can’t just get rid of tradition Y/n.” 

Mark firmly nuzzled his head into your shoulder again, kissing the side of your neck, “pay attention to me.” A clingy boyfriend might be annoying to some people and at one point in time you also thought that way, but with Mark you couldn’t get enough of it. The way that he was so dominant and attentive in the bedroom, but then so needy and clingy when it came to being in public. Especially when you were with the other guys.

“Anything for my number one frat star,” you cooed, pinching his cheek.

“You know I hate it when you call me that!” Mark whined, “you pay more attention to the guys then you do to me.” As he pouted you leaned in to give him a peck, but instead he brings the hand resting on your thigh up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss. Youngjae, Jaebeom and Bambam all groan.

“Y/n?” Your name being called breaks you out your bubble with Mark. The bubble that made you feel like you two were the only people in the world that existed. Pulling apart from his lips, you both turned to see who the culprit is that ruined your moment.

“What the hell are you doing at Lambda?” Ryan asked. It doesn’t hurt to see him again; it was just annoying.

“Back from your lake house I take it Sigma Chi?” Mark asked. You had told Mark everything about what went down with you and Ryan – and if looks could kill… Ryan would already be in his grave.

“I’m not talking to you,” Ryan rolled his eyes, “what the hell are you doing at Lambda?” He asked again.

Without thinking about it, you find yourself standing up and cupping your hands around your mouth just as Bambam had done earlier, “SIGMA CHI SUCKS!”

Ryan couldn’t believe his eyes, he stood there blankly on the sidewalk in front of the house, “what? Very funny Y/n… I know you don’t mean-”

You do it again, “SIGMA CHI SUCKS!” The boys on the porch with you begin to laugh.

Ryan pointed a finger towards you, waving it in the air, “now just wait a minute-”

“SIGMA CHI SUCKS!”

Your ex-boyfriend clenched his jaw, “You weren’t even a good fuck anyways!” The words should hurt you, but they don’t because you know it’s not true.

“Uh… Yeah she fucking is,” Mark retorted, standing up next to you, “why don’t you go home Sigma Chi?” And just like that, you and the guys on the porch have your second middle finger of the day – this time from your ex-boyfriend.

As he walked off in the direction of the Sigma Chi house you all laughed at how blatantly offended, he was at just the fact that you had said his frat sucked. It was middle school taunting, but of course it would work on someone like Ryan. Ryan was a special breed of asshole and it makes you feel stupid to think that you had once grouped Mark with him. All of the Lambda boys.

Mark kisses your shoulder, “what are you thinking about?” His smile melted you – it always does. He was one you had been waiting for and somehow your body and subconscious knew it before you did.

“Just how happy I am to have you by my side Mr. President.”

“I’m happy to have you by my side too,” Mark hummed, but soon he pauses, “unless it’s during beer pong… because you really suck.”

“Mark!”

[soundsof71]

for the album thing: born in the usa :)

I could write a book about any of Bruce’s records from Born To Run to Born In The USA. I did in fact write my grad school thesis using Nebraska as the hook: ”Vehicles of Grace: Automobile Imagery and Salvation in the works of Bruce Springsteen and Flannery O’Connor” LOL which is one million percent true. 

In fact, I bought Nebraska on my first day of class in grad school (a whole story by itself), and BITUSA came out as I was finishing my coursework two years later. It’s hard to overstate how hard this one hit, but my reaction was kind of complicated, so I’ll tell ya all about it.

the first song from this album I heard: “Dancing In The Dark”, which came out as a single before the album. Followed immediately by “Pink Cadillac”, its b-side. We played the SHIT out of that song in particular, far more than the A side, and were dumbfounded that it wasn’t on the album. 

do I own the album?: Obvs, but there’s a story. Of course. My girlfriend and I bought it on vinyl the day it came out in June (we weren’t married yet, but we’d merged our record collections the previous year LOL), then for my birthday in August, she bought me a CD player for like $800 (they were expensive as FUCK when they first came out -- and $800 was even more of a fuckton of money back in those days, especially for a couple of grad students), with one CD, Born In The USA. That one CD was more than reason enough to spend the dough on a player.

I still have that CD, along with the ticket for show where we saw Bruce on our honeymoon in England, at St. James Park in Newcastle, in June 1985. He’d just gotten married too (the first time), which is a whole ‘nother story too. Oh, and I still have the sweatshirt from that show! I'll post a picture of all this some time.

my favorite song: Wellll....here’s where it gets kinda complicated. Bruce had a notoriously hard time picking songs for the record. He’d recorded something like 50 songs for the album, and once he cut the list to 30 or so, he kept asking people he trusted to pick THEIR favorite running order. (Dave Marsh talked about this in his book Glory Days: Bruce Springsteen in the 1980s, and I haven’t heard it much discussed since then.) It’s hard to argue with the finished results, but you know what? I kinda do, still, all these years later. LOL 

My favorite song OF the album, no question, is “Shut Out The Light”. (Check my tag for this song to hear some more about it.) It was first released as the b-side to the 7 inch single of “Born In The USA” (remarkably, the third single from the record), and wouldn’t show up on CD until 1998 on the Tracks anthology. Tracks was 4 CDs in all (should probably have been 6 discs, and COULD have been 10), but I bought the whole thing for THIS.

My favorite song ON the album: “Downbound Train.”

my least favorite song: “Darlington County”. 

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: “Dancing In The Dark”. I’m not alone in this. Miami Steve famously HATED the song at first, and only came to appreciate it after years of playing it live. I still remember never more eagerly anticipating an album in my life, and never being more upset by the advance single. I was devastated.

Here’s why. Born to Run came out when I was 15. “Gotta get out while we’re young!” The romance of escape, with the last two songs, still grandly romantic, hinting at its costs. 

Darkness came out when I was 17. Narrator: “They did not escape.” LOL Ghosts, bitterness, compulsion, cursed by God. His estranged wife’s eyes “filed with hate for just being born”, while “Tonight I’ll be on that hill ‘cause I can’t stop.” 

The closest thing to hope: a whispered “Tonight my baby and me are gonna ride to the sea / and wash these sins from our hands.” I was a senior in high school and the dream was already dead. Awesome. LOL

The River came out when I was 20. The only hope is domesticity. Too bad that it’s suffocating and you’ll fuck it up. LOL Want to wash the sins from your hands? Sorry, the river is dry. “Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true / Or is it something worse./ that sends me down to the river?” Yikes!

The shows for this album were astounding. The album was soooo much darker than it first appeared, and the catharsis in the performance was rewarding, sure, but almost unbearable. You were left broken and crawling by the end of the night. In a good way. LOL 

Nebraska came out when I was 22. Murder, mental illness, ghosts, more murder, compulsion, and as a treat, a little more murder. LOL 

The one song I couldn’t stand was “Reason To Believe”, because I didn’t believe there was one, and I didn’t believe he did either. But boy did I love the album as a whole. Like I said, my grad school thesis started here, because I had too much to say about Nebraska and the sweep of Bruce’s literary roots and spiritual impulses NOT to write about it. 

(Not shockingly in retrospect, and a blessing for us all that he went through with it and is still at it, but Bruce’s therapy started here too.)

So from 1975 to 1984, things got darker and darker and darker. It was beautiful. LOL And hey, this was MY LIFE we’re talking about, too! From 15 to 24, I was listening to Born To Run, Darkness, The River, and Nebraska practically on a loop, and the more hopeful stuff was becoming less and less resonant. 

Sure, there was Rosalita and Thunder Road and Badlands, plenty of dancing and pumping fists, but I was dwelling in darkness, and living for it. On my best days, I was wounded, not even dead LOL but I barely listened to Born to Run by the end of this span. It was mostly Darkness and Nebraska. 

I couldn’t wait to hear what was coming after the highest body count in recorded history on that album. LOL I knew it wouldn’t be acoustic again, but man, he was cutting closer and closer to the bone each time out. How much farther could he possibly go?

And it was....Dancing In The Dark? What the actual FUCK? Practically fucking disco or something? WHA....? I loved dance music, especially in the 80s, but I didn’t need it from Bruce. I had that from other people. Oh well, at least the b-side was cool, so maybe the album won’t bite. LOL BUT THEN PINK CADILLAC WASN’T ON THE ALBUM. FUCK.

The album didn't bite, of course, but it took a looooong time to get over this huge dual disappointment of a chirpy disco single by an artist I barely recognized, and whom I now felt I could no longer trust to manage his own creative mission.  

My wife wrapped her head around it first (as is usually the case LOL). She dug it as the closest Bruce had yet come to putting his actual self in a song. The narrator is a writer, anyway, unlike every other song he’d ever written about jobs he never held for a single second (an observation that would form the bedrock of Springsteen on Broadway 40 years later).  

Now, I totally dig it. If you’re naughty enough, I might even post my ukulele cover of Dancing In The Dark. LOL

a song I used to like, but now don’t: None. The songs I loved, which is most of ‘em honestly, I still do. Everything about this album has gotten better with time for me, and nothing about it has gotten less so.

my favorite lyric: 

From “Shut Out The Light”: Oh mama mama mama come quick I've got the shakes and I'm gonna be sick Throw your arms around me in the cold dark night Hey now mama don't shut out the light 

From “Downbound Train” The room was dark. Our bed was empty Then I heard that long whistle whine And I dropped to my knees, hung my head, and cried

Bruce was gonna try to give me a happier record, but I was having none of it. LOL 

For the record, “Downbound Train” is my wife’s favorite track on the record by FAR, at least partly because it sounds like a band version of a song that could have followed Nebraska. I prefer Shut Out The Light because I heard the story of my own mental illness in it for the first time, but yeah, Downbound Train is amazing.

I only saw it live once at the time (in Newcastle, June 4, ‘85), but it really comes to live onstage -- true for all of Bruce of course, but this album more than any other imo.

overall rating out of 10: Then: 8. Now: 9.2.  The shows were unbelievably good (we saw three shows in three different countries on that tour) and it sold a buttload, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that after the run of Darkness - The River - Nebraska, that this was a missed opportunity at best. 

Time and distance heals all LOL and I now love it. Not more than the four before it, but more than anything since. A masterpiece, by any standard.

[a-wayne-at-heart-too]

The Robins as...

DICK:

Glam rock / Heartland rock ; goes by the pseudonym “Azul”; the Artist Formerly Known as Nightsing

He’s an incredible all-around performer, so it should come as no surprise that he’s a natural frontman (or solo act).

He’s constantly reinventing his look (short, long, mullet - you name it, he’s probably sported the hairstyle). And Discowing’s got nothing on the outfits he wears onstage.

People love booking or working with him because he’s very professional (but does have a volatile temper from time to time). 

The only thing that he requests for in his hotel room or trailer? A poster of The Flying Graysons. Oh, and cereal. Lots of it.

He actually uses the Cirque-du-Soleil-ish set design, blowing minds all over the world.

He likes calling audience members onto the stage, and never forgets to introduce his bandmates and give credit to those who made the concert possible.

His bodyguards don’t get paid enough for the number (and level of aggression) of fans who throw themselves at him.

He actually responds to fan mail, loves visiting sick fans in the hospitals, and gives warm hugs during meet-and-greets.

A substantial part of the proceeds from all his concerts go to the Martha Wayne Foundation, which supports many schools and orphanages.

His “entourage”? His long-term girlfriend, Kory Anders ( “Azul! Over here! Gotham Gazette! Why haven’t you proposed yet?”), and his childhood best friend, Wally West. 

For all his showmanship, he’s notoriously private about his personal life. And, honestly? The spotlight does make him tired.

JASON:

Folk rock / Grunge rock ; goes by the pseudonym “Rason Rodd”

He sings and plays rhythm guitar, while Roy Harper’s on either bass or drums and Lady Artemis slays on lead guitar. Together they’re known as The Outlaws, managed by Mr. Am Not Bizarro.

He sounds so much like Eddie Vedder that it’s eerie. Eerily beautiful.

His debut solo album “I Ain’t No Joker” went straight to #1 on the world charts.

He’s found that music can be an effective political tool, so expect to find him lending his talents, free of charge, to various charities and advocacies. (On that note, he’s already done jail time for his blatantly subversive lyrics.) 

He’s on the road so much that he practically lives on the tour bus (that’s always stocked with beer and cigarettes). At this point, he’s... trying not to mind. He’s been away from what he used to consider “home” for so long that he’s not sure where to go.

With The Outlaws and their connections, he holds free music workshops and provides informal foster care for Gotham’s street children, who often don’t have proper adult supervision.

During his downtime, he visits prisons in Gotham City to perform for the inmates, hoping to encourage them. Then he’ll anonymously send their low-income families some groceries every now and then.

It’s either you’ll barely recognize him on the streets because he’s so low-key or know it’s him because he’s wearing something outrageous, like a tinted gas mask or a plague doctor getup, on a grocery run.

TIM:

Rap rock / Electronic rock ; goes simply by his last name, “Drake” (not to be confused with other famous artist Drake or Gotham vigilante Drake or male fowl -- "I'm not any of them, alright!")

He’s moved on from his punk rock roots and has been experimenting with fusion subgenres.

Once in a while, he’ll do reunion performances with former bandmates Bart Allen and Cassandra Sandsmark.

Nowadays, he frequently collaborates with other artists with different musical backgrounds, such as rapper D.u.k.e. T and country crooner Conner “Kon” Kent. 

He’s notoriously hardworking (and his PA’s got some toned legs from all those coffee runs). 

His albums are a hit among the younger demographic, but his famous adoptive father says that he “is extremely proud of my son, but I... I don’t really understand his music.” (Hmm. Makes you wonder if billionaire Bruce Wayne’s got a closet full of Drake’s “Sedimentary / Metamorphic / Igneous - The Anthology”.)

He’s developed his own state-of-the-art software for composing music and even performs live as a hologram (through the help of information technology magnate Barbara Gordon’s company, Oracle).

He’s made the said software, which makes it possible to produce professional-quality music using little to no equipment other than a mobile phone, free and accessible so that aspiring musicians who can’t afford to work in studios can pursue their dreams.

He enjoys discovering new talent, especially among young people who haven’t had as many opportunities as he’s had, and offers to manage them for free.

His on-again-off-again relationship with pop star Stephy Brown has made him a tabloid staple.

When asked by a reporter what he likes to do for fun, he answered, “Sleep” while slowly sinking into the couch. 

DAMIAN:

Heavy metal meets orchestra music (think Metallica’s “S&M”concert) ; goes by the pseudonym “Habibi”

He’s a musical prodigy who can play practically any instrument from percussion to wind, but the need for control led him to being a conductor.

Like Timothy, he likes to experiment. His latest project, which he’s very secretive to the media about, has to do with oriental influences. He’s called upon the help of his sister, a musical prodigy like him, Cassandra Cain.  

He’s notoriously a perfectionist, which makes it challenging to work with him. (But no one argues that he’s a musical genius, so they put up with it.)

He owns the Wayne Conservatory of Music, which offers full educational scholarships and training programs to the poor youth in Gotham who are musically gifted. 

He once told a news reporter that his greatest dream is to conduct the ultimate performance -- his obra maestra --  starring Azul, Rason Rodd, and Drake.

When he’s not busy in the studio or mentoring budding musicians, he’s just in his mahal (palace), hanging out with his best friend Jon Kent, practicing martial arts, or enjoying the company of his pets. 

And in the quiet moments of their famous lives, they dial one number that always brings them back down to earth...

Alfred: *picks up* Hello? I’ve missed you, too, Master -- What’s the matter? Why are you crying? Oh, bullocks, don’t listen to what they’re saying... In which part of the world are you right no-- Ah, never mind. I’ll just follow the tracker Master Bruce has put on you. I’ll see you in a bit.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *  ~ 

For you, @xellexavierxau.

[collecting-stories]

Tim McGraw - John B Routledge

Request: No.

A/N: This literally just popped in my head the other day when I was working through a writer’s block. 

The TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰...when you think Tim McGraw, I hope you think of me✰

_ . ◦ ⭐︎:*.☾.*:⭐︎◦∙._

You weren’t sure if it was homesickness or something else entirely but you felt like you were in a fog as you unpacked a semester’s worth of clothing and personal belongings, trying to make your side of the dorm look a little more like your room back home. The dorm wasn’t very big, one loft bed on the right that you claimed immediately and a bed on risers that your roommate was sitting on, trying to fold all the clothes that she hadn’t bothered to fold before when she was emptying out her drawers. 

“I might go take a look around campus,” you suggested. Summer had been cut short this year and you couldn’t deny that the thought of facing another September without John B was weighing on you. It shouldn’t have been, but you couldn’t help the unavoidable feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

You’d thought about telling him, wrote everything down in a letter and sat with it for a long time. He was just a summer crush, a temporary love that you let you let go every September, this time shouldn’t have been any different. Except this time you hadn’t left to go back to Pennsylvania, you’d left the Outer Banks but stayed in North Carolina, settling in Chapel Hill for your freshman year of college. 

-

There were plenty of perks to being a touron, despite what the islanders thought. Being a touron meant reinventing yourself, even for just a summer. You could be whoever you wanted to be, no one would know any different. Most summers, every one since you were fifteen, you reinvented yourself into the same beach-loving, party-going, John B-dating summertime pogue that you wished you could be year round. 

Whether he dated other girls during the months that you were back in Pennsylvania you didn’t know, and didn’t want to know. It was only three months that you were there but it was three months of John B’s attention unwavering and you took it because you liked him so much. 

“I’m telling you, it broke down,” John B insisted, his VW Bus pulled off the side of the road, hood popped up. It was dusk out, the warm glow of the setting sun washing everything in oranges and pinks. You were sitting in the driver’s seat like he’d instructed, waiting to start the car and hit the gas when he said to. 

“Seems kind of coincidental, don’t you think?” You said, opening the door and turning to sit sideways in your seat as John B came around the side. 

“Coincidental how?” He asked, laying his hands over your bare thighs, running them down to your knees and back up to the hem of your shorts. 

You pushed his hands away and laughed, “well I just so happen to tell you that I can’t hang out tonight because I have dinner with my grandparents and your car just so happens to break down.” 

“I have no control over the Twinkie.” He replied, trying to look as innocent as possible as he smiled at you, “but you should probably let your grandparents know you’ll be late.” 

“Their gonna kill me JB.” You insisted as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket. John B’s hands rested just above your knees, his eyes on you as you dialled the phone, clearly unconcerned about the ‘broken down’ car. “Hi, mamam...I know, I, my friend’s car broke down so we’re just waiting for a tow truck...no, not a boy, my friend Kiara. Okay, I’m sorry. Yeah, love you too.” 

With the phone hung up, John B slipped his hands under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the seat as you laughed. He bent over so that he toss you over his shoulder and you yelped in surprise as he lost his footing backing up and dropped you. 

“Shit!” He cursed, dropping down next to you, “are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

“I’m okay,” you promised, letting him help you up, leaning against the side of the car as John B crouched to inspect the cut on your knee. 

“Come on,” he pushed the back door open and guided you inside the car, helping you sit down on the floor, leaning against the back seat and the pillows that John B had tossed in there for your picnic today. “I think Kie put a first aid kit in one of these,” John B said, kneeling on the floor to check in the cubbies. 

“The one on the right.” You replied, “it’s really alright JB, you just brought me all the way out here to kill me.” You joked. 

“Not exactly the plan I had.” 

“So you admit it,” you said, “you did have a plan?” 

John B kneeled over to you, first aid in hand. “Yeah, getting as much time with you as I could.” He replied as he cleaned the wound, the stinging of the alcohol making you bite your lip. Once he’d bandaged the cut he tossed the first aid kit back behind him and leaned over you, “how ruined would you say the mood is?”

“Was there a mood to ruin?” You teased, pulling him into a kiss. It wasn’t the first time that John B had claimed his bus had broken down but you always played along. Letting him lead you to the back and being there with him until he decided to ‘try the car again’. 

This time would’ve been like all the others, as John B’s hands settled on your hips, pulling you close as you kissed, except the distinct red and blue lights of Kildare County’s finest shone through the windows before anything more than PG could happen. 

“Fuck this night,” John B cursed, getting up and climbing out the still open door. You fixed your hair as you climbed out after him, Peterkin getting out of the SUV parked behind you. 

“Your grandma called me, said your friend’s car broke down and it was getting dark.” Peterkin announced, “you got a tow coming John B?”

“Ugh, I was just about to call them.” He lied. 

“Why don’t you give it a go? I got cables if you need to jump it.” She said. 

John nodded, knowing he was caught in the lie and going around the front to put down the hood. You stepped back by Peterkin, too flushed to look her in the eye as John B climbed in the front seat and turned the car on, the engine coming to life with no problem at all. “Must’ve just been a hiccup.” He said, turning to look back at Peterkin. 

“Must’ve been.” She nodded. “Get yourselves home.”

-

You’d been to the quad before with John B but it felt like a whole other life, walking around now. You were too afraid to ask but you’d been dying to as the summer drew to an end, did he love you too? Had the summers that you spent together meant as much to him as they did to you? You didn’t want to ask and feel foolish when he told you that it was just a summer thing to keep busy. You didn’t want him to know you loved him if he didn’t love you back. 

Your phone chimes in your pocket and you pulled it out, a text from your new roommate coming up in notifications. 

-some guy is at our dorm looking for you, said his name is John B.- 

You were positive you half-sprinted/half-power walked back to the dorm, hands trembling and heart pounding at the thought that John B was in Chapel Hill, in your dorm. You had told Kiara where you were going for college so you assumed she’d told John B. 

You got back to the dorm, your roommate opening the door just as you reached for the handle. “Hey,” she grinned at you, stepping into the hallway, “I’m heading down to the caf, I’ll be like, a while.” 

“Thanks.” You slipped in passed her and shut the door. And there was John B, back to you as he stood at your desk. He put something down and you realized he’d been holding the picture of the two of you from three summers ago that you had framed. “Hey-“

“Hey,” he said, turning around to look at you. 

“I’m sorry about leaving, I can explain,” you started to say but he cut you off. 

“I know, I got your letter. Your grandma said she found it under your bed after you left and dropped it off at my place.” He pulled the well worn envelope out of his back pocket and held it up so you could see it. His name scrawled across the front, “of course, I had to listen to her ‘I don’t like you fooling around with my granddaughter’ speech too, but it was pretty worth it.” 

“You read the letter?” You asked. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “you really thought I didn’t love you too?” 

“I was scared you wouldn’t. I mean, we only saw each other in the summer.” You admitted. 

“Yeah, and I spent every day in between waiting for you to come back.” He replied. “So you’re here for good?”

“I’ll be North Carolina for a while, yeah.” 

“Good, we can make up for all the lost time.” 

-

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[muddyhippy]

Night Terrors, Chapter 8: Lying in the Dark (11k)

As always gorgeous artwork done by @smolghostings

Lying in the Dark 

Jonny wasn’t in his room.  

It was late, well, it felt late but he wasn’t in his room. That was rare, he was normally easy to find. Only sometimes he was doing something else. But still, she’d had a bad dream and she wanted him to tell her it was alright. He was very good at it, when he said things were alright she believed him. He gave really good cuddles too. She liked sleeping in with him when she got really scared, he made her feel safe and he kept the bad dreams away for the rest of the night.  

It hadn’t been a  horribly  bad dream, or at least, not as horrible as they were back on the ship but it was still a  bad  one, one with screaming and blood and accusations. She wanted him. Wanted to know that it was just her brain telling her lies again. The bad ones couldn’t hurt her anymore and they weren’t hiding on the ship anywhere and her people weren’t cross with her for leaving them behind to live with the Mechanisms. Jonny knew a liar when he saw one he said, he knew a lie when he heard it too so he could tell her that it was just a bad dream and nothing more.  

Nothing to be scared of.  

Lily hummed unhappily, trying to think of where to look. She could wait for him, but she didn’t want to be on her own that long. If she was looking for him then she was doing something to fix it herself.  

She carried on humming, the corridor was quiet but hummed a little bit in response.  

Lily didn’t really notice the change in pitch of it as she wandered along, too preoccupied with a lurking nightmare and looking in each and every door along the way.  

She was so busy investigating the doors to the side she didn’t notice the access panel open at the end of the corridor, when she emerged from the latest room she just assumed it was another open door. Lily wandered in, her search for Jonny far too important to worry about the possibility of getting lost.  

Aurora knew exactly what she was doing. She recognised the child’s humming and responded in kind. The little one was sad, sad and scared and missing someone. Missing Jonny.  

Lily had woken up after tossing and turning and crying out.  

Aurora often watched over the little one, making sure she had someone looking in on her. She often pinged Jonny’s communicator to warn him if it looked like Lily was having a particularly bad one. They’d been increasing in number recently. More crying and screaming from the child which was something Aurora hated to see.  

She liked Lily, the child was bright and made her crew smile, bringing some sort of lightness with her when she laughed and smiled and danced. It made the darkness of her dreams all that more stark.  

Aurora had got into the habit of alerting Jonny whenever he was  awake  and he would always go to comfort the child wholeheartedly without a single  hesitation,  but she drew the line of when he was sleeping.  

She knew her love worried about the first mate, the fact that until Lily he’d been slowly getting colder and harder and wilder. More trigger happy, heavier drinking and going for weeks without sleep. She was worried his descent into extended self-destruction would be irreparable but each time she’d tried to broach the subject she’d been rebuffed as though he had no idea what she’d been talking about even if this had been going on, bit by bit, for centuries.  

With Lily joining the crew it had forced Jonny into altering his behaviour pretty drastically, and to a lesser extent had forced the entire crew too. They were now trying to avoid murdering each other outright, violence in general had dropped to a bare minimum because no one wanted to make Lily cry the way she had on her first night with them. That had been horrific, and whilst they may all be bastards of the highest order, they may be entertained by war and death but they weren’t complete monsters and they didn’t enjoy listening to or worse, being the cause of a child who obviously adored them sobbing her little heart out.  

Lily, latching on to Jonny as she had, had thrown real, serious and immediate responsibility into his lap. But instead of bolting or imploding like almost the whole crew had expected him to, he rose to the challenge. Nastya and Aurora however had hoped the child would have this affect on him, she’d seen Jonny long before the others had been forcibly added to the crew. She knew far more of how he worked, how much he cared.  

Lily  gave Jonny intrinsic permission to care, loudly and openly without a shred of derision or the threat of punishment for caring. She was a little girl who needed love and reassurance and surety. And Jonny provided it, unconsciously most of the time, she was a priority to him and so he gave her his attention and did what he could to make sure she was alright.  

It had pleased Aurora and Nastya no end to see how much Lily reciprocated that even without truly understanding the extent of it.  

Jonny even had somewhat of a routine now, he was forced to talk instead of shooting his way out or he could just leave the room without blowing up if things were too much. He was starting to practice sharing his real thoughts and feelings, both ship and engineer were deeply amused that such an accomplished liar found it impossible to really lie to Lily, omitting some truths until she was older excepting, he answered honestly to any question she asked. Then again, so did the rest of the crew when she had a question, no one had really learned to withstand the eyes yet.  

He put her to bed at night and often woke in the morning to her snuggled against him. He’d eased off on his drinking for the most part, wanting to be semi-sober to deal with any bad nightmares and he’d slept more in the last four and half months than he had in the last four years.  

Aurora was pleased to see that when Lily joined the first mate in his bunk both occupants slept more easily and peacefully.  

Which was why Aurora was loath ever to wake him.  

This time however, Jonny was not asleep.  

Aurora happened to know exactly where he was, he’d got swept up into a spirited argument with about something that was long overdue and needed settling whilst the ceasefire was in place. Aurora would be tempted to eject them both into space if they attempted to hash this out with their usual methods, she nearly had done the last time this was broached several centuries ago. That time Brian and Ivy had killed them both before they got dangerously destructive.    

They needed to actually argue and resolve things without murdering each other for once so she steered Lily away from that cathartic nonsense and guided her instead down to her love who’d been a little despondent of late and could probably use the affection Lily gave freely to anyone who wanted it.  

Lily wandered guilessly down into the depths of the starship, humming along in tune unbeknownstly with Aurora.  

She was just beginning to get worried that she was really very lost when she heard some familiar muttering up ahead.  

“Nastya?”  

The muttering stopped.  

“Nastya?” She called again, a little louder this time.  

“ Маленький ?”    

“What?”  

There was more muttering which quickly flipped to English.  

“Lily?”  

“Nastya? Where are you?”  

The engineer appeared from the other side of a service hatch.  

“What are you doing down here?” She looked about for an accompanying Jonny, surprised that Lily appeared to be on her own, “You should be in bed.”  

Lily suddenly remembered why she was here in the first place.  

“Had a bad dream, wanted Jonny but I couldn’t find him.” The child sniffed, rubbing at her eye with her sleeve.  

Sometimes it struck Nastya all over again just how young Lily was. When she was up and bouncing with the crew it was almost easy to forget, she was so full of life and smiles, bringing out what could arguably be described as the best of them that it was very easy to equate them all together, like she just belonged and fitted in as if she’d always been there.  

Especially since they’d all tried hard to curb their more violent instincts around her.  

Right  now,  Nastya was painfully reminded of her own young self.  

The engineer was never entirely sure exactly how to handle Lily, her own childhood was so very different what Lily had experienced so far both on her own ship and with them. She was free with her affection and care with them all which was surprisingly pleasant after a fashion.  

It had taken Nastya a while to get used to Lily’s exuberant love for the crew, for their lives and especially for her own love, Aurora. Lily had accepted the two of them without a single qualm, only asking Nastya how she communicated and if she could learn to say hello too.  

That, that had stilled her.  

Jonny had learned enough to interpret Aurora’s clearer messages, as had Brian to an extent given he was her pilot and they needed to work together, Ivy and Raphaella, the latter pair inspired by curiosity. Tim too, knew some of her simpler sounds, mainly due to his first few weeks conscious it took him a while to get used to his new multileveled-vision. He kept his eyes closed when he was too overwhelmed. Aurora had hummed to him in the darkness of those confusing weeks because he was nearly as young as her Nastya and Jonny, another boy gone to war too soon and seen too much.  

Brian had an understanding because he felt something of a kinship with her, sentience encased in steel and brass and Jonny because he’d been there the longest, Aurora had done her best to help him when it was just him, when he’d won her from the soldiers but before he and Carmilla had brought on board her love when he was actually, truly, young and lost, scared and very betrayed. She’d hidden him when she could and he’d learned which of her noises meant that she was pleased, annoyed or was offering comfort.  

Aurora had told Nastya that she had composed a lullaby for each of the crew but only a few of them actually noticed. She was still working on one for Lily whilst Nastya had an entire anthology dedicated to her composed over centuries, each created to show her love for her engineer.  

Lily had asked in her second week about Aurora, found out they were in love and beamed. Then asked about talking to her. Lily was still learning, it took a while to get past the basics of different sounds and she wasn’t confident talking to Aurora on her own truly. Nastya had explained that it didn’t matter that she couldn’t understand Aurora’s replies and that she could talk to her anyway. Lily had argued that that felt rude to just talk at someone and not be able to listen properly and be equal.  

Nastya had made the mistake of saying she should sing to her instead then.  

Lily had taken this to mean sing-everything-you-want-to-say-to-Aurora-instead-of-speaking-it.  

It was unbearably cute sometimes.  

Not that she would admit to deeming anything ‘cute’ to anyone but Aurora.  

Aurora had cooed to Nastya about it for three full weeks when it first began, telling her of the stories Lily sang to her in her room. Lily sang to her telling Aurora all about the tea parties with the Toy Soldier, listening to Marius play, reading with Ivy and shooting with Tim all to tunes of her own devising. She sang of science experiments with Raphaella, star charting with Brian, cataloguing and card games with Ashes, all the story telling and cuddling and nightmares she shared with Jonny and mending things with Nastya all rendered with the same piping little voice that showed definite promise. Aurora was delighted to be told things rather than it be assumed she knew anyway, Lily was aware Aurora was the ship and she was alive but whilst she knew Aurora could see everything theoretically, for Lily she was a person who just wasn’t in the room rather than  actually  being  the room.  So,  wanted to tell her about her adventures.  

It made Aurora hum with happiness. And it pleased Nastya to see her love so included.  

Lily sniffed again, “can, can I help please?”      

Nastya was well-versed enough in Lily-speak to know what she was really asking but didn’t want to be demanding.  

“Come on then, I need another pair of hands with this panel.”  

Within moments Lily was stationed on Nastya’s lap small spanner in hand carefully unscrewing the more delicate bolts.  

This went on peacefully for another 10 minutes until the tell-tale wiggling started.  

The movements were slight, reigned in heavily but Nastya knew all about repressed movements, it was her childhood in the palace. Hiding her playfulness and then her constriction under polite curtsies and porcelain smiles.  

Lily was a born dancer, she had grace enough to find a home amongst the ballet and ballroom steps of the cold and haughty parties Nastya had been forced to attend, groomed into the perfect wind-up doll to be presentable at parties.  

But Lily had no place there.  

Lily was a child who was encouraged by them all to feel and share and sing.  

Aurora had shown Nastya footage of Lily with the others, waltzing with Tim, Brian and TS as they sang ‘Hatter and Hare’ to her, learning how to classically ballroom with Marius who might not be a real Baron but certainly knew the steps well enough to pass but beamed the entire time whilst teaching her. Jonny had even been teaching her some square dancing, far away from the others on nights when she was too tired to scream and charge about with her rage but to angry to settle back into sleep, they stomped and swirled and dosy-doed with a vengeance.  

It warmed her cold, quicksilver-fuelled heart.  

So she was an expert in knowing when Lily wanted to say something but wasn’t sure. She found she felt sad that Lily was still unsure of her four and half months into her living with them.  

But then again, she saw her less than the others did, more comfortable in the core of the engine decks than the main living areas it was usually Jonny or Aurora herself who guided Lily down to see her when it wasn’t a meal time. Nastya didn’t always make it up for a group meal but she did now make a concerted effort to join them all at least once every few days, especially when if she hadn’t made an appearance for a while Lily would appear with Jonny in tow bringing a lovingly made sandwich which Nastya dutifully ate ignoring the smirking Jonny who stood behind the beaming Lily, happy at having done her self-appointed job of making sure the crew was fed regularly.  

She saw a lot of herself in Lily and she didn’t know what to do with that.  

The child she herself might have been if protocol and duty hadn’t been forced down her throat the moment she could walk and talk.  

It was one of the reasons Nastya didn’t resent teaching Lily anything she asked to learn about. Everything in her formative years had been prescriptive, the least she could do now was contribute properly to Lily’s eclectic education, encouraging any interest no matter how varied or how ‘unladylike’. Nastya’s lip curled, the term still made her thrum with a raging quiet of fury.  

Nastya was fairly certain she, Jonny, Tim and the Toy Soldier were the only four that had any form of formal education, for her and Tim at least certainly past the age of 12. TS was mainly taught etiquette and the others either had no memory of it or were not keen to share.  

Jonny she knew because he’d confided in her one day when she’d found him hiding from Carmilla’s wrath, her beration ringing through the corridors that she was going to make ‘a backwater dolt like you learn to be a competent assistant even if it takes  centuries ’  

Nastya had silently dried his tears, used her cool hands to sooth his fresh bruises and assured him he wasn’t stupid.  

He’d had to drop out of school at 12 in order to pick up more work to support his mother as his father drank more and more of the household income and hadn’t been confident in his reading, writing or arithmetic.  

She’d started helping him get a hang of the basics when they hid together, enough to avoid the more violent repercussions of ‘failing’ the good doctor.  

Jonny still wasn’t a fan of anything that sparked.  

Still, he, like the others all had useful skills to share.  

Ashes was in a similar situation, the orphanage forced the children in their care into nominal education but they’d learned their most important lessons on the street and then with the Sevens.  

Jonny and Nastya had done their level best to protect the newly mechanised Ashes from Carmilla’s wrath, ensuring their new crew mate’s literacy was up to scratch. As it was, Ashes with their Quartermaster’s mind took to the particular order and meaning of words and numbers Carmilla expected like a match to gasoline.  

All the others were accepted as was.  

Lily was eager to learn to as much as possible, she was interested in everything and it seemed to please all the crew that she wanted to listen to them and valued their skills enough to want to emulate them.  

Which is why she knew how to carefully undo panel bolts and rewire the smaller plugs and transistors under supervision.  

But Lily didn’t come down here to help.  

It was 1:30am.  

She was up and out of bed and clearly upset.  

Nastya wondered where her useless lump of a brother was and how hard she could kill him for leaving her to deal with a sad Lily. Maybe she could take her to Brian or Marius? They were good at this, certainly better at emotions than she was and—  

“Nastya?”  

Nasyta cursed extensively and creatively in her own head.  

“Yes  сладости ?” “Have you killed anyone?”  Fuck everything and its goddamn siblings.  “Why are you asking me that?” “Because everyone else has here.” That was surprisingly matter of fact, for a moment Nastya felt a pang of regret that they had been rubbing off on her. But then again, the child was no stranger to death.   “Yes I have.” She answered just as matter-of-factly.      

“Do they stay in your head?”  

Now THAT was a question. Why was Jonny not here again, the one time she really needed the bastard to be useful and he’d fucked off beyond the seeking of an eight year old. She was going to murder him, he’d got (surprising everyone but her) very good at dealing with Lily’s questions about things like this.  

“No, not anymore.” She paused, that wasn’t entirely true. “Well, the first person I killed did stay for years.”  

“Oh.”  

“Why?”  

“I killed people too.”  

“No, you killed Jonny, that doesn’t count.”  

“It does!”  

“He got back up again though.”  

“The others didn’t.”  

This was something new. Was Lily saying she killed others on her ship? There was no way it was any of the raiders she killed, if she had her nightmares would be different. From what the others had said, almost all of her nightmares were about her fear of those raiders coming back and attacking the Aurora. So obviously she still feared them and hadn’t killed any of them to take that power from them.  

So.  

Had she had to mercy kill her own people? Could she? There was a core of steel in this child. Enough that Jonny had feared when she first joined them that she would be lost to vengeance.  

But Lily had been naught but condensed sunshine during the day and was clearly working through her nightmares during the night, mostly with Jonny and sometimes the others but they’d all been along the same theme.  

Why now did it have to be different? She was absolutely going to murder Jonny and throw him out of the airlock, consequences be damned.  

“What others?”  

“The ones of my ship.” Explained the child.  

“You didn’t kill them Lily.” Stated Nastya as firmly as she could.  

“I did.”  

“No—”  

“I didn’t help them.” Pressed the increasingly upset little girl, “They said so.”  

Nastya swallowed.  

“It’s my fault.”  

Oh not a chance.  

Nastya physically turned Lily in her lap to face her.  

“What did you say?”  

“I said it was my fault.” Came Lily’s surprisingly defiant response.  

That sparked an unexpected jolt in the engineer. “How? How is it your fault?”  

“I didn’t help.” Lily declared firmly, “I hid and stayed quiet and they died. They all died. They all died horribly. Screaming and crying and all I did was hide. I stuffed my sleeve in my mouth so they wouldn’t hear me and hid. I let them all die, all the gunshots and tears and fires.”  

Lily’s eyes welled with her own tears once again.  

“I didn’t come out until they’d been gone a long time and everything was dark and quiet.”  

Her voice was beginning to wobble.  

Nastya was unwillingly dragged back to the palace. The roars of the mob, the sound of shattering glass and crackling wood as the fire began to greedily consume her home, everything was sharp and petrichor, the tang of copper heavy on her tongue.  

She knew what that child had faced, at least, she knew a flavour and she’d been over double Lily’s age when it had happened. She had fought back but only after the fact, after being mortally wounded, terror forcing her blood out of her louder and faster with every desperate beat of her gasping heart. If only she’d  known  it was the last  time   she   know  the feel of true warmth.  

Maybe she would have tried to say no to Carmilla.  

As if that would have stopped her.  

Still, there had been Jonny who held her those first nights, Jonny who’d found her her coat (and kept it in good repair for her despite all his protestations to the contrary) and gave her the first sense of warmth and safety she felt in those confusing and agonising first weeks.  

Whether it was the pain of her body, slowly acclimatising to the quicksilver or the wrenching pain of loss and guilt, feeling that she should have died with them all, that she should have tried to protect them she was wracked with it for months. Or maybe years. It was hard to tell in those early times.  

Jonny had introduced her to whiskey and got her drunk on it in a well-meant effort to help her cope and make her feel warm inside. She appreciated the warmth but not the hangover that made her wish she could truly die. She drank in moderation after that. It still helped ward off the sense of cold and misery to an extent, but sleeping in the vents, wrapped up in her coat and Jonny’s arms as they hid eased her the most. She’d never been all that close with her blooded brothers and now, well, her blood and his heart were a match, they adopted each other wordlessly and without ceremony.  

Nastya paused, it was funny in a way, that Jonny, of all of them, was the one that could and did provide comfort when it was desperately needed.  Oh  he was much younger when it was just the two of them, he was far more the frightened boy to her frightened girl, gone to space too young and become immortal without the understanding what that truly meant than he was now, bitter and jaded and calloused to the universe but he’d still been  there  and he’d protected her when he had no reason to. He could have tried to direct  all of  Carmilla’s attention on to her, the new plaything and spare himself. But he didn’t. He cared and he  protected  and he loved even if he didn’t admit it. He built up quite the guard over the centuries when more and more people kept being added and hurt and he couldn’t stop it. He tried anyway. He was still the first on the scene to console each new addition to the crew when that had generally been appreciated. Apart from Tim.  

But he became colder and harder and more indifferent on the surface and seethed inside with each passing year and each new addition.  

She knew it was by sheer luck that it was Jonny Lily had shot, she probably would have launched herself at whomever she’d killed and then sat back up and Nastya wasn’t sure that Jonny would have been anywhere near as accepting if it wasn’t him she attached herself to, more for Lily’s sake than anything else. She wasn’t an annoying child so no real risk of her being shot but still, Jonny probably would have fought harder to leave her somewhere safe with decent people and not them. She was a good kid after all. But he’d got attached the second he failed to shoot her and she’d clung on. He still, despite everything, couldn’t refuse a hug when it was sorely needed. Even if he never admitted or telegraphed it.  

Lily probably had no real idea how lucky she was, having Jonny on side was like having an admittedly annoying but ferocious and lethal guard dog to protect you. Anyone he deemed as ‘his’ was under that protection. He could mess with those people as much as he wanted but the second there was a real threat, an actual, credible danger to ‘his’ people and Jonny could turn all his violent chaotic bastardry into pure, vengeful murder.  

But also, Lily apparently gave him permission to show that secret softness he hid pretty well most days to the point it had just become accepted that Jonny had a gentle side that he could and did use with Lily. It was nice to see again after so long.  

She’d missed this side of him being as apparent. He saved his real smiles for her which she cherished but still, it was few and far between. Lily had been good for everyone, even if Nastya wasn’t sure exactly how to interact with her. They had such a lot in common in some ways and in others? Completely alien.  

Maybe it was better to focus on their shared love of the first mate, (Never Captain, that was Carmilla and no one should ever be associated with her reign no matter how much he protested.) rather than their entries into orphanhood.  

But first. Lily was upset and it was an upset she unfortunately knew far too well.  

“ Сладости , Lily, look at me.”  

The child reluctantly raised her eyes to meet Nastya’s.  

“We have talked about this before, what you did, hiding in the vents was not only good but it was the right thing to do, your parents put you there for a reason, they wanted you to survive.”  

“But, but—”  

“No, no if’s or buts.” Interupted Nastya in her best, ‘Jonny-I-am-not-accepting-a-single-word-of-your-nonsense-right-now’ voice, “Knowing what you know now about guns and ballistics from Tim do you think you could have stopped them?”  

“No.” Lily conceded, wilting a little.  

“Do you think, knowing what you do now about piloting, angles and speeds from Brian you or anyone on your crew could have got the ship away from the raiders in time?”  

“No.” she shrank a little further.  

“Do you think, knowing what you know now about hull integrity from Aurora and I that could have found a way of stopping them before they breached your ship?”  

“No.” She curled up closer to Nastya as the facts rolled over her. Nastya found herself rubbing the child’s back consolingly, being told you’re wrong is always hard, even if it’s for your own good in the long run and she was still small and Nastya wasn’t beyond giving comfort when it was needed.    

“So I don’t see what the problem is Lily, there was nothing you could have done. It took a lot of courage just to stay alive in the aftermath long enough for us to find you. You were incredibly brave.”  

“But they don’t believe me.” Lily all but whispered.  

“Who don’t?”  

“My crew, my old crew, they’re in my nightmares, they blame me for not helping, that I shouldn’t have left them. That I’ve betrayed them by coming to live with you all.”  

A stream of creative Cyberian cursing torrented across her brain. Nastya took a deep breath and continued to curse Jonny for not being here with her for this. She didn’t want to talk about this, had avoided it for a very long time.  

“I felt the same way.” She admitted in as firm a voice as she could manage.  

Lily perked up immediately, sitting up to face Nastya, “You did?”  

“Yes. Where I am from, there was an uprising. My, my father was not a kind man and he had responsibility over a lot of people. He didn’t treat them well and eventually they realised there were more of them than the people in charge. They attacked our home, they wanted to kill us all. I saw them murder my brothers, my mother and my father and all the people who’d surrounded me since birth. I was older than you, I was 19 at the time but I was so scared Lily, I ran, I got attacked by someone who I thought cared about me. I killed him in self-defence but it broke my heart, he wounded me very badly. After Jonny rescued me I saw their faces in my dreams night after night, accusing me of being a coward, that I should have died with my family.”  

Nastya paused trying to gather the right words to try and get across in the simplest terms she could.  

“And you know what?” she continued.  

“What?”  

“That was my mind lying to me.” And oh, didn’t that feel good to say out loud?  Nasyta  hadn’t realised she needed this for herself even after centuries and continued with more emphasis.  

“My mind was lying to me,” she expanded, “it was the guilt talking, nothing more. Guilt is a natural emotion in events like these, you want to help people you care about but sometimes there is absolutely nothing you can do, no matter how much you wish it. You can tie yourself up in knots about it, you can tear yourself apart over it but it doesn’t matter. You won’t change what happened.”  

Nastya raised a hand carefully and after hesitating a moment, carded her hand gently through Lily’s wild and sleep-mussed hair. It was approaching her shoulders now, as she’d pointed out proudly every so often because she was trying to grow it as long as Raphaella’s.  

“Lily, I need you to listen very carefully to me.” The little girl fixed Nastya with her huge blue eyes. “Those things you see in your dreams, they’re not your friends, they’re not your family. They are lies. You feel guilty and that’s normal, that’s alright, but you can’t let it rule you, you can’t let their lies in. Your mother and father wanted you to live, they wanted you to live with every fibre of their beings because if they didn’t they would have held you close when the raiders came. You need to understand the hardest thing a parent can do is to push away their child to protect them. They knew how dangerous the situation was, they knew they might not survive and to increases your chances of survival the best thing they could do would be to put you out of harm’s way to and hope it was enough.”  

Lily shuffled, looking down as she sniffed. Nastya gave her a moment then tilted her little face back up to hers, she needed to take this all in.    

“And it was.” Stated Nastya.  

“Because you were clever and you were brave, you stayed still and silent and stayed alive. You gave them no cause to search the vents. You did want your parents wanted. You survived.”  

The engineer gently wiped away some of the escaping tears.  

“You survived long enough for us to find you. Do you really think your parents would want you to stay on your ship when you could leave with us?”  

Lily sniffed again, thinking about the cold, dark awfulness of her ship that slowly been smelling worse and worse and bit by bit falling apart.  

“No.” She realised, “No they’d want me safe and warm and with nice, kind people like you all.”  

Nastya didn’t think she’d ever get used to hearing herself and her crew described as ‘nice’ or ‘kind’ without a shred of sarcasm.  

“Exactly. You made the right choice in coming with us.” Actually, thinking about it, Lily didn’t so much as have a choice as ‘clung to Jonny and didn’t let go when he carried her onto Aurora’ Hmm. Well, semantics at this point.  

Nastya paused to look at Lily, really look at her, doubt creeping in because they’d assumed a lot with Lily and she’d seemingly just rolled with it, “Are you happy with us Lily?”  

Genuine shock bloomed across the child’s face as her eyes grew round in consternation, “What? Happy?  Of COURSE  I’m happy with you! You’re all so nice and kind and cuddly and you look after me and don’t ever tell me I’m small or silly and you let me do big important things! I’ve got a proper job here! I cook for you and you all spend time with me and teach me things and play with me and listen to me and there’s no fighting over things like food and you always make sure I’ve got enough. More than enough.”  

Well fuck.  

She was going to have to feed this all back to Jonny wasn’t she?  

Nastya privately was rather pleased Lily’s crew had no further claim on her, they were ill-prepared, ill-equipped, and obviously ill-suited to manage the prospect of a pioneer mission when it came to their most precious consignments. Maybe not her parents but still. From between her own and Ivy’s observations from the ship and the black box they would never have made it to their chosen destination. There were other ships as part of the  mission  but the black box recorded having lost them years previously, their engines had been damaged and they fell behind and never caught up.  

And Lily had clearly been given the impression she was bother, she was tiresome and she was constantly in the way by the other adults in her life.  

Never would Nastya have thought that the Mechanisms would make better care-givers than literally any other sentient being but apparently the universe was still full of surprises.  

“That’s good, I’m very glad to hear it. Do you understand why I asked you that?”  

Lily thought it over. “Because,  because,  I needed to think about all the good things here. About how happy you all make me and how sad I’d be if I stayed behind.”  

Thank fuck she was an intelligent and perceptive child.  

“And what do you think your mother and father would want for you?” pressed Nastya, determined to get this concept across to Lily, she didn’t deserve to have that sort of unwarranted guilt resting on her small shoulders.  

“To be happy. And safe. And feel like I belong.” She stated immediately with absolutely surety.  

The words sunk in.  

“Oh.”  

“Exactly. They would be very pleased you’ve found yourself a group of people who care about your well-being.” She took a deep breath, she wasn’t given to sharing her emotions freely with anyone but Aurora, and Jonny if really needed but Lily was a special case. “And we do Lily, very much so, you’re very important to all of us. We want you to be safe and well with us, even if we’re not always sure what to do or say, we do care about you.”  

Lily gazed at Nastya with all the sincerity of an eight year old.  

“I know. From the first night and you all hugged me even though Marius and Tim came back and some of you don’t really like hugs but you hugged me anyway because I was scared and I was sad and you didn’t have to. Thank you.”  

“You’re very welcome  Сладости .”  

“Can I hug you now please?”  

“Yes.”  

Lily carefully wrapped her arms around the engineer, taking in her scent of oil, grease and delicate musk. She didn’t get to hug Nastya often so she cherished it. “I knew you were kind, you cuddle even when it’s not your favourite thing.”  

“Well I know what it’s like to feel alone, I didn’t want you to feel like that.”  

“But you have the crew and Aurora?”  

“Not when I first joined, it was just Jonny and I.” Nastya was trying to edge carefully along the level detail she could share, they’d not talked to her about their mechanisms yet, or how they’d come to all be together on Aurora. It wasn’t her story to tell alone. That would be an all or nothing tale she felt.  

“And Aurora?”  

“And Aurora,” the engineer latched eagerly onto that as a conversation avenue, “it took me a while to learn how to listen to her before we could truly understand one another.”  

“I think I hear her singing to me sometimes, it sounds different to when she’s talking to me.”  

“That’s because you’re a clever girl and you listen well. Yes, Aurora is singing to you.”  

“She always sounds so pretty.”  

“Yes she does, she’s beautiful.”  

“Have you always been in love with her?”  

Wasn’t that a question, of course Nastya loved Aurora, she had for the longest time, her hums were comforting, warming her to her core. Being Cyberian and Aurora being a cyberian ship she could speak with Aurora from the first days, translating for Jonny when he  asked  or it was particularly pertinent. She and Aurora understood each other far deeper than words anyway, she was what filled her thoughts, gave her purpose and flooded her soul with warmth. “For a very long time, yes. She was very kind and comforting when I was first on board, I was very scared and lost even with Jonny to keep me company.”  

“He’s good at that.”  

“Yes he is.”  

“But Aurora loved you? Right at the beginning? Was it love at first sight? Like in my books?”  

It was sweet that Lily still thought like that when the universe was rarely so forgiving or amenable, “Not quite at first sight, I think love is something that builds up over time, but I believe we mutually fell in love, I with her kindness, her warmth and her spectacular grandeur.”  

“And Aurora?” The child looked up at the panelling.  

There was a deep and resonant humming that broke out around them.  

Nastya allowed her fondest smile to spread over her face, “Thank you my love, she said that she fell involve with my music, with my hands and how I use them work my violin and my tools to keep her in good repair, she says she loves how I listen, how I touch and how I care about things.”  

Lily was enraptured, “I bet she thinks you’re just as beautiful as you think she is.”  

Silver flushed Nastya’s cheeks, “That’s very kind of you.”  

“It’s true, you have such nice eyes that really smile when you see something you like or Aurora says something secret to you.”  

Aurora hummed in agreement.  

“See! I know that means she thinks I’m right!” The little girl beamed.  

It was something Nastya was very grateful for that the child was just willing to accept things, for Lily, Aurora was another adult to listen to and very much a person in her own right. It was refreshing to just be accepted without shred of confusion.  

“Quite right indeed.”  

“Does Aurora sing a lot to you?”  

“Yes she does, she has a beautiful set of sounds.”  

“Would she sing now?”  

“You’d have to ask her.”  

“Aurora? Would you sing a song please? You always sound so pretty.”  

Well how could she refuse a request like that?  

Aurora began to sing, this time a favourite of her love, soft and gentle, reverberating sonorously through her wiring and her metalwork.  

Lily was mesmerised. She leaned back against Nastya chest, soothed by both the song and the rhythmic sound of the engineer’s heartbeat.  

The weight against Nastya’s chest grew heavier and heavier until the sound of tiny snoring emanated from her ribcage.  

She sighed internally, she should have known this, Raphaella had told her how quickly Lily could fall asleep and now she couldn’t move for fear of waking her. Still, it wasn’t too bad, Lily was a little radiator and it was strangely peaceful to be the source of comfort for such a vulnerable being, a little girl that despite everything they seemed to be managing to raise to an acceptable standard. The child was happy, was building up her strength and general health now she had a proper balanced diet and obviously felt comfortable enough with all of them to come to them when needing comfort and reassurance as much as when she wanted to play or help with something. And that she’d managed to comfort Lily when it was clearly something serious bothering her was something Nastya was quietly proud of and more than a little relieved that it had obviously worked. She was rarely counselled for advice beyond Jonny and that was because he didn’t mind sharing his vulnerable side to her, she’d seen him sobbing and bloody and terrified enough to not be deterred by his defensive walls. Nor did he really try. But to help Lily? To reason well with a child? It was very new territory but one, on reflection, she found she didn’t dislike.  

Now she’d calmed down herself, soothed by the sleeping breaths of the child she remembered to be furious with Jonny for leaving her in this situation in the first place.  

Aurora noticed the hitch in her love’s breath and the flaring of her nostrils.  

She interpreted correctly, humming a question.  

Nastya Nodded.  

Aurora pinged a message to Jonny, now that the situation he was in had been resolved, to come and collect Lily.    

Jonny waltzed in roughly twenty minutes later reeking more pungently of whiskey than normal, a sloppy, sappy smile plastered across his face that spread even wider at the sight of his sister gently rocking the sleeping form of the child he was more than a little fond of.    

The engineer on seeing him went from peaceful to furious in roughly half a second.  

“Just where the fuck have you been?!” Hissed Nastya, “Lily has been having breakdown over her nightmares conjuring her dead parents and crew mates to chastise her for leaving them and having the audacity to survive.”  

All the drunkenness drained out of Jonny along with his colouring.  

“FUCK.” Sobriety hit him like a particularly colourful train, “Is she okay? She’s not had an accusing nightmare for a while.”  

“ Oh  you knew about these?” if anything Nastya’s fury deepened.  

Jonny was aware of the danger in her voice but ploughed on regardless, “I mean, yes, she tells me all her nightmares most of them are just banging noises in the dark.”  

“But sometimes she nightmares about her dead parents blaming her for their deaths?”  

“Sometimes?” Now Jonny thought about it, had it been more frequent, more recently?  

“You BASTARD.” It was impressive how much fury Nastya could convey in a whisper, “Why haven’t you told the rest of us?”  

Jonny immediately puffed up his chest in defence, “Because it’s her nightmares, not mine to share and it’s personal.” He hissed back.  

“Jonny she is EIGHT. This is serious stuff that does need sharing. And to dump it on the rest of us un-warned isn’t fair.”  

“I’ve told you the important stuff, she deserves her privacy as much as the rest of us.”  

“Jonny she is eight, not an adult, whilst it is commendable you respect her privacy there are some things that need to be shared with the rest of us, important things. Like this. THIS is important!”  

“It’s just a progression, Marius says—”  

“Fuck what Marius says, this was important and she needs to be reassured properly not just have me wing it and hope for the best.”  

Jonny grinned ruefully, “Welcome to my world, it’s a bitch isn’t it?”  

“No, I, she deserves better than that,” the engineer trailed off.  

Jonny paused to really look at Nastya, realisation dawned, taking in the paler-than-usual complexion and gentle, almost imperceptive trembling, “what’s wrong?”  

“I, she, the palace, it’s similar enough, it, brought up some memories I’d rather forget.”  

Everything clicked into place, Jonny looked horrified, immediately contrite, this was a BIG deal for Nastya after all and she hated being reminded of that time, “Fuck I’m sorry I should have—”  

Nastya was touched at his concern, it helped to calm her enough to start to regain her composure, “Actually, it was quite helpful really, I realised a few things I needed to put to bed and I think I was the voice I needed to hear when Lily’s situation was as fresh for me.”  

Jonny reached out and gently squeezed her hand in sympathy.  

“Are, are you both alright? For now?”  

“I believe so. I managed to convince Lily the words and the people who spoke them were just manifestation of guilt. Nothing more. That she did the right thing in joining us.”  

“She was questioning that?!”  

“Subconsciously. I think because she is growing more at ease here. More comfortable and settled.”  

“That’s good right?”  

“Yes, but it comes with consequences, namely questioning her loyalties to those she’s known all her life and those whom she’s only known for the past four and a half months  

“Well her people are dead, there’s not much choice there.”  

Nasyta closed her eyes, “Please tell me you’ve not put it to her like that.”  

“Of course I fucking haven’t what do you take me for?” Jonny paused, his eyes narrowing, “Do not answer that. I just tell her that her brain is lying to her because brains don’t always get things right.”  

“Huh, I said something similar.”  

He grinned at their similarities, there was reason people assumed they were siblings more often as not.  

She shared the smiled, pleased to have settled the matter and felt more at peace with herself than she had for a while, “Anyway, where have you been all evening that Aurora led her to me?”  

Jonny immediately shifted, looking awkward and closed off, “Oh, uh, nowhere.”  

Nastya cocked a single eyebrow, “Jonny. For an excellent liar this is a piss poor effort.”  

“Fine I was having a discussion.”  

“With?” she prompted, apparently he was determined to be difficult.  

“With Tim.”  

“If you have broken any more of her panelling I will gut you right here.”  

“No, it was civilised thank you very much.”  

“I do not believe it.”  

“Well we did. Go look for yourself.”  

“What could you have possibly been discussing that was reasonable?”  

“I, well, he, we—”  

“Spit it out.”  

“Fine we were discussing how he came to join the crew and the misunderstandings about it. Happy?”  

Nastya froze. That was something that Jonny had tried to do not too long after Tim had joined them and got the hang of his new vision. It had not gone well. As it was Brian and Ivy had killed the pair of them and locked them in their respective bedrooms till they calmed down. Things had escalated. Badly. Threatening-an-actual-hull-breach badly.  

Nastya hadn’t spoken to Jonny for a month.  

Then he’d come stomping down to find her to give her as much of an apology he could give her and then proceeded to rant and rave until she’d slapped him silent. Nastya was not given to laying hands on people, she didn’t like it. But Jonny had been revving up again and that was not explaining the situation.  

As it was it shocked him enough to explain himself properly. He was devastated that Tim blamed him, that he’d tried (albeit very clumsily, Jonny, for all he was a gifted wordsmith for stories struggled when orating things related to him and his own, more complex emotions) to explain that none of what happened was his choice. He wanted Tim to have his ending. That Carmilla hadn’t listened, had killed him and locked him away. By the Jonny broke out it was too late.  

Carmilla had her accident not long after.  

“Are you alright?”  

The bluntness had the effect as the slap several centuries ago and shocked the truth out of him once again.  

“Better than I thought I’d be.”    

“What happened?”  

Jonny took a breath, wanting,  needing  to share it.  

The evening had been normal, less murder-filled since it was getting close to 1am and that was prime Lily nightmare-time. They’d been making cracks at how Lily kept Jonny in better time than their music, a complete lie but intentionally teasing.  

Then someone made a crack about  newfound  responsibility.  

And Jonny had responded that he always was  responsible,  but he just wasn’t appreciated.  

Tim had commented that he was only responsible when it suited him with more bite than had been in his voice previously.  

Jonny rose to it, snapping that he was always keeping an eye out for the crew.  

Tim bit back about only looking out for  this  crew.  

The others went quiet, poised for violence.  

Jonny immediately hit back at who the fuck else was he supposed to look out for?  

Too late the first mate realised what Tim was getting at, too late he realised that Tim had been cleaning Bertie’s gun, which he only did when he was specifically thinking about the Lunar war and what had happened.  

Building the fort with Lily had clearly stirred up memories.  

Tim promptly erupted, getting right up in Jonny’s face.  

Spewing the words he’d obviously been festering for centuries.  

“You only care when it directly relates to  you   selfish  bastard! If Lily had latched on to anyone  else  you’d have been the first to say we dump her! It’s only when you have a benefit out of it!  So  don’t you dare try to pretend you  actually give  a fuck about any of us, it’s just that we all can’t really leave, not permanently, so we have to endure each other!”  

“Don’t you DARE talk about Lily like that, she’s as much your kid as she is mine or anyone else’s! It was you she spent the best part of the last four days building a fort with, not fucking me!  So  don’t you dare! I care about all of you ungrateful bastards, I  have to ! You’re MY crew.”  

Tim punched him square in the jaw.  

The Mechanisms didn’t usually resort to physical violence, usually it was just gunshot, immolation or whatever Raphaella had concocted that week.  

As such it caught Jonny off guard, forcing him to stagger backwards.  

“There! You see! YOUR crew! It’s all about you!  We’re our own people. We’re not beholden to you and you’re lying to yourself like always if you think anything different!”  

Jonny spat out blood and snarled at Tim through gory teeth, “I don’t mean it like that you wanker! And you know it! I’m not HER!”  

“But you helped her!”  

The room dropped about 10 degrees.  

“What did you say?” Jonny’s voice had gone dangerously quiet. Everyone else in the room tensed to leap into intervene, the last time these two got like this they filled the room with so much gun fire it nearly penetrated the outer hull.  

Tim didn’t back down in the face of Jonny’s icy fury, “I said, You. Helped. Her.”  

Jonny was suddenly on Tim, fists in his coat and slammed him against the wall, hard enough to make the gunner’s teeth rattle. Jonny might be shorter than Tim but he was strong.  

“You take that back you piece of shit.”  

“No.” Spat Tim.  

Jonny slammed him against the wall again before he held Tim with one hand and the other snatched for his six- shooter . Then he remembered the proximity to Lily-horror-hours and visibly tried to calm down and withdrew his hand from his holster.  

Tim followed his movement and stopped in his tracking to do the same. Couldn’t be shooting and waking Lily, kid needed her sleep after all, she’d worked hard building all day.  

“Because it’s the truth isn’t it?” He continued, glaring at Jonny, faces barely 6 inches apart, “It wasn’t enough to fuck with me on the moon—”  

“I tried to stop him! You KNOW I did!” Exploded Jonny, “I couldn’t get to the grenade in time, I TRIED to out-run him but he was faster and I was still regenerating from the lasers!”  

“You should have told us!”  

The words knocked the rage right out of him, he let go of Tim, backing away, “Yes.” He conceded, sincerity pouring into his words, “I should have. I’m sorry.”  

Tim stared dumbly as Jonny spoke the words he’d wanted to say for over three centuries. Apparently soothing Lily almost every night had given him some practice at actually communicating some emotions.    

“I didn’t want Bertie to die.” Now Jonny had said those words he’d apparently broken some sort of dam and the words kept coming, “I didn’t want you to die. I wanted you both to survive the fucking war and go home. You two were the nearest thing I’d had to real friends for CENTURIES. I wanted you both to have a fucking happy ever after for once.”  

“Then WHY?!” Tim all but screamed.    

“Why did I help her make you into one of us?” Jonny glared at Tim, if there was a sheen to his eyes then he’d deny it for eternity.  

“I didn’t.” He let the words hang there for effect before ploughing on.  

“I never wanted this for anyone, not one of you fuckers. No one deserves this. No one. I begged her, I fought her, I fought against the bio-programming to try and stop her. She shot me. She shot me so much I woke up locked in a store cupboard a week later and when I finally broke out it was too fucking late.” Jonny sighed, finding himself sadder that he’d allowed himself to feel for a long time, “I’m sorry Tim, really, I never wanted this for you.”  

He ran a hand over his face suddenly feeling every single year he’d lived weighing down on him.  

The others, having frozen in place, poised to haul them away from each other like they had to do over three centuries ago relaxed, now they’d clearly calmed down a bit, that they’d not drawn weapons and that Jonny fucking  apologised .  

Well.  

Things were obviously going to get all  feelingsy  and out of a sense of decorum for some and not being drunk enough to deal with another outpouring of emotions for others the crew that had been present quietly left, ignored by the first mate and master-at-arms.  

“So that’s it, carry on fucking hating me, that’s fine, don’t break the habit of centuries, it doesn’t matter anyway but don’t you fucking  dare think I helped her or had anything to do with it. None of us did. She plucked you from space when she was scooping me and TS up from the debris. Decided to ‘fix’ you up like she did the rest of us poor fuckers. I tried to stop her, tried to deflect, to convince her to let you die but she realised I cared about you. So she did exactly what she wanted. I'm sorry she used you, sorrier than you'll ever fucking know.”  

The first mate straightened his back to cover a sniff, “Now if you’re done, I’m going to go check on Lily because I do, in fact, care about her like I care about the rest of you bastards.”  

He made to move away. Jonny got three paces before a slender hand gripped his shoulder.  

“Jonny.”  

The first mate wheeled around.  

“What?!”  

“I, I didn’t know.” Tim was looking worryingly sincere.  

“Clearly.” Jonny didn’t really know what to do with Tim looking like that, like a grown-up version of Lily’s sad-eyes, eyes that were his natural colour, not focused on anything but him.  

“I wish I did know.”  

Oh fuck, Jonny was really not prepared for more emotion right now, “Well you do now.”  

“I mean sooner.” Pressed Tim.  

Jonny huffed, the resignation stealing most of the bite from his  words, “I  tried to tell you. I tried to tell you when you first made it out of the lab just after Carmilla had her accident.”  

Tim did a genuine double take, “That was you telling me?!”  

That riled him, “Fuck off Tim!” He snapped, “I tried! You started yelling, I started yelling, we started shooting, next thing I remember waking up locked in my bunk.”  

“Me too.” Surprisingly Tim didn’t rise to the heat in Jonny’s explosion instead  he looked  like he might be feeling a stab of regret.  

“I also remember you shooting me in the face for the next five years whenever you saw me.”  Emphasised  the first mate.  

“I did.” Tim agreed  

“And?” Prompted Jonny, his heartbeat beginning to pound in his ears, hoping he’d not mis-judged this, he was still  angry  and he was damn well going to voice  it  but he did want this to be resolved. He liked Tim despite all the relentless violence. He liked their competitions. He’d not taken to someone so quickly since Nastya and Tim (and Bertie for that matter) had been mortal. He’d liked them both. He had wanted them to be alright. If he was honest with  himself  he wanted to have that tunnels friendship again, he’d wanted a brother growing up almost as much as a sister and privately he wouldn’t have minded if that brother had been someone like Tim. It was fine if their relationship was going to stay the way it was, it had been that way for three and half centuries, it didn’t need to change, didn’t have to. But it would be nice if it could.  

Tim sighed, then fixed his stare on Jonny, utterly serious even if it looked like it was paining him to admit, “And if I’d known then I wouldn’t have.”  

That was as good as an apology he’d ever expected from Tim, “Alright then.”  

“Jonny—”  

“What Tim? What?” This was far more emotion that Jonny was really able to deal with in one evening, “I’ve said my piece, I should have said it years ago, I should have tried again before now, I didn’t. I’m sorry for that but I don’t know what else you want from me.”  

“Thank you.” It looked both painful and alien for the words to cross his lips but the master-at-arms  said  them all the same. “I’m, I’m, I’m sorry I thought you’d been involved.” For the first time in years Tim actually looked awkward.  

“Good.” Jonny had no framework of reference for this, the last time they’d been this honest and open was in the tunnels before Bertie died and most of that was now a purposely hazy memory.  “I, er, I’m sorry I gave you that impression.” He offered, hoping that was the right thing to say.  

“Do you—” Tim hesitated.  

“Do I what?” Jonny have never quite understood the phrase walking on eggshells until that exact moment thought it was more like breathing around eggshells. He felt horribly powerless that the next thing out of Tim’s mouth might dictate how they interacted for the next ever.  

“Do you want to get very drunk and accept that this happened and we’re alright but we never have to talk about it again?”  

Jonny breathed a huge sigh of relief, “Fucking YES.” He began to grin before a thought caught him, “Wait, Lily, I’ve got to—”  

A screen descended from the ceiling.  

  ‘If you are seeking Lily  Jonny, she is safe with Nastya next to the engine room. They’re both in deep conversation and are fine, I will notify you when you need to take her to bed.’

Well it was nice that Aurora acknowledged that there was no way Lily was moving off from Nastya once there, the child was like a limpet and once comforted it was like she had an off switch that just flicked the second she was feeling safe and secure again.  

He felt bad he’d missed her getting  up  but this really needed to be said and he was glad they’d had the chance to finally clear things up between them. It had only been several centuries in the reckoning.  

Still, if she was still talking to Nastya then that gave him and Tim at least an hour. No point disturbing her when she’d just fallen asleep after all. Plus, it was good she was talking to Nastya, she needed to talk to the engineer more, Lily spent the least amount of time with Nastya so it was nice she was there. And he really wanted to drink with Tim, it had been a long time when it was just them and the air actually felt clear. Ironically it was in the gas-filled tunnels.  

The two men read the notice and shared a look.  

“Whiskey?”  

“Whiskey.”  

He was grateful that whilst he wasn’t drinking to his previous capacity he could still drink Tim under the table.  

Which was why when Aurora summoned him later into the night he still had enough nouse about him to be able to ease Tim back against the sofa and cover him with his great coat that he’d shucked earlier and make his way down to where his sister and charge were waiting without too much stumbling.  

“So you and Tim have made up?”  

Jonny grimaced, “Don’t say it like that.”  

“Like what?”  

“Like we’ve had some sort of lover’s tiff.”  

“Well…”  

Jonny’s face morphed in a deep scowl, “Fuck off Nastya. You two are the only couple here and you know this needed sorting for years.”  

The engineer sombered, she did in fact know, knew how much it had eaten at Jonny over the years on top of everything else till he grew cold and indifferent, thinking it one last curse from Carmilla to endure.  

“It did, you’re right, and I’m glad. Really. For you and Tim. And Aurora that there’ll be less damage inflicted by the pair of you.”  

“I make no promises.”  

“You will not like the consequences.” promised the engineer.  

Jonny smirked, “No but I enjoy the challenge.”  

“You are such a bastard.”  

“Always,” he agreed easily, “you love me anyway.”  

Nastya rolled her eyes and huffed, looking thoroughly unimpressed, “You are a blight on my life and I despise everything you stand for.”  

His smirk deepened, “I know, I know,” before he allowed the soft smile he saved for Nastya and more recently Lily to bloom across his face instead as he stepped carefully into Nastya’s space and pressed a gentle kiss to her head, leaning against her wrapping his arms around her, lending yet more warmth to her.  

“Thanks for looking after her.” He mumbled against her hair.  

“Well, she’s as much my responsibility as yours to care for.” Admitted Nastya, allowing the affection she felt for Lily flow through her, feeling far more connected now than she ever had before.  She squeezed his hand, enjoying the tenderness. It was still quite rare between them, especially in the last few centuries, and it had been an emotional night for them all.  

Aurora continued to sing, low and warm and loving as the siblings and their child just breathed together and were.