#im not allowed to know much for the owners privacy

[gottalovecatss]

Our newest foster dog is the size of a small horse 😅

Our dog Beans literally can walk under her 🤣

[msbigredmachine]

Kitty Kat (Roman Reigns)

After a lifetime of searching, the Tribal Chief may have finally found the woman of his dreams. Post Summerslam 2024.

Warnings: SMUT (yes i know its excessive im sorry 😭)

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: This got way too long bc I talk too much. I tried to shorten it I promise but I just couldn't. I do hope you like it either way...

Song inspiration: Again - Lenny Kravitz

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs

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He could get used to this.

As he stepped off the plane, Joe discreetly adjusted the bulge in his pants and exhaled deeply, allowing himself a giddy smile in anticipation for what was to come. 

He couldn’t wait to see her again. His Kitty Kat. The interesting part was that this time, she’d flown him out to come spend the week with her, in First Class, no less. “It’s a five-hour flight from Cleveland to L.A., so I want you to be as comfortable as possible, Daddy,” she’d told him. Never in his wildest dreams did he envision being ‘flewed out’. He’d been the one flying her out in his private jet, chartering luxury vehicles to bring her to him. The reverse felt strange and would take some getting used to, but it did feel nice to be pampered and taken care of for once.

Seated comfortably in the back of the Cadillac Escalade driving him through the City of Angels, he reminisced about last night in Cleveland. It was fun to hear the crowd again, the adrenaline rush of his entrance music blaring all around the Browns Stadium. It was a long absence from wrestling for him, darkened by the passing of his father, followed by the whirlwind preparation and execution of his funeral, grand, exhausting and emotional. Kat being by his side for all of it was a precious elixir he could never repay her for, but perhaps he could start tonight.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. It was an unknown number, but against his better judgment, he answered and hoped it wasn’t some weirdo fan. “Hello?”

“You left town without telling me? I saw you all over Summerslam last night!” the shrill, familiar voice responded.

Scratch that. Now he wished it was a fan. “I know I blocked your ass. This is stalking,” was his cold greeting. 

“I just want us to talk, Joe! We can’t just end things the way we did!”

“Ain’t nothin’ to talk about, Ebony. I got the DNA test I wanted. Go find your baby daddy and leave me the fuck alone.”

“Are you ever gonna forgive me? I made a mistake!” Ebony pleaded. “You didn’t even invite me to Sika’s funeral. That hurt my feelings, Joe.”

“Bitch, don’t piss me off!” Joe countered angrily. “Blurting out that I’m not Josiah’s daddy was not a mistake! I also found the messages in your phone, remember? You and your little group chat laughed at me, laughed about me raising a kid that ain't mine!”

“That’s a female ass trait, y’know, lookin’ through my phone and invading my privacy!” Ebony complained.

“You can invade these nuts,” Joe dismissed, “You cheated on me and lied about the paternity of your son! That’s enough for me to wash my hands off of you and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

For a second, Ebony was quiet. Then, “Let me guess. You’re with that uppity rich bitch. She was at your dad’s funeral, both of y'all looked so cozy in the videos. She's the reason you don’t wanna work things out, right? Weren’t you seeing her before we broke up? Who’s the cheater now, huh?”

Joe scoffed in disbelief. After all she’d done to make his life a living hell, she was still gaslighting him. “We were over long before I started seeing her. I only hung around cuz I thought the kid you were carrying was mine. Don’t act like your whorish toxic ways didn’t drive me into her arms in the first place! You broke us up, so I’ve moved on from your evil ass. Simple.”

Ebony kissed her teeth. “You are so disrespectful to me, always have been. You never cared about me. It was all about your fucking wrestling. You were always gone! I was lonely! I needed you and you didn't give a shit!”

“So that’s why you opened your legs for some bum, got knocked up, and lied that I was the father? You disrespected yourself!” He felt himself getting riled up and had to compose himself. He would not let his ex ruin his day. “Imma make this clear so even you can understand. We. Are. Done. Call me again and it’s my attorney you’ll be talking to.” Cutting off the call, he then blocked the number and deleted it for added measure.

Fuck that ho.

Anyway, back to his girl, Kat. It had been an amazing few months so far with her. Of course, he’d googled her in the beginning, asked Heyman to run a background check to make sure she was legit and not a psychopath like his ex. Katrina Sullivan was one of the most famous music producers in the world and the top executive at her renowned publishing label. She was a big time player in her industry just like he was, a star in her own right, and it was a match made in Heaven.

Not only was she incredibly beautiful, but sex with her was a wild ride. She gave him a run for his money whenever they fucked. She was all about new experiences and wasn’t too prissy to fuck inside a car or suck him off outside a dive bar. He blushed every time he remembered the freaky shit they got up to after his loss at Wrestlemania. Long story short, she made him feel much better about dropping the belt. He loved that she loved sex as much as he did, and if he wasn’t hooked on her before, he was completely addicted after that night. 

And it wasn’t all about the physical. There was an emotional bond they shared, a connection that he’d never felt with anyone else before her. Talking with her felt like talking with a friend. He would unload his good days and bad days on her and she would listen to all of it without passing judgment. He did the same for her and was proud to be the one she learned to trust after her own past heartbreaks. Joe wished he’d had the courage to leave Ebony earlier. Perhaps he would have found the woman who had become his peace, his safe haven, and closed the hole in his heart much, much sooner.

A Google Map search helped him find the best florist in town. The ladies in the shop ooh'ed and ahh'ed over the beautiful bouquet of roses he bought and how lucky his lady was. But he thought he was the lucky one. As he took a deep breath and inhaled the flowers, he felt his stomach flutter at the thought of her beautiful face, her smile, her warm embrace. Joe knew he was in love, but he didn’t quite know how to tell her yet. It was weird enough that he lowkey felt like a thot being flown out. He really didn’t mind, though. All he wanted was to be with her and just be in her presence, in her aura. He would tell her when he was ready.

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

Kat’s mansion was the stuff of dreams. Isolated on the hills of the Pacific Palisades overlooking lush Californian greenery, it was one of her rewards as the most in-demand producer in music today. The living room segued into the kitchen, which welcomed him with the smell of freshly cooked food. Pasted to her stainless steel refrigerator by a small circular ‘Acknowledge Me’ magnet, was a note from her saying that she’d just headed out for a last-minute meeting and directed him to the oven where a warm skillet of sirloin steak and seasoned roasted potatoes waited for him. She had also stocked her fridge with his Megafit meals along with C4 Energy drinks and a few bottles of her own branded tequila. His baby was spoiling him rotten and he was digging it.

He first put the fresh flowers in a vase he filled with water before settling down to eat. He wished she was here with him, but he understood more than anyone how busy things could be when you were at the top of your game. He was proud of her and wanted her to get all the coins she deserved. Halfway through his meal, he pulled out his phone and checked on her.

After dinner, he embarked on a little tour around her breathtaking abode which ended up taking several minutes to complete. Joe had some nice homes of his own around the globe, but this floored them all. The edifice dripped with luxury and was crafted to perfection, just like his Kitty Kat was. He enjoyed the gorgeous city view from her balcony as he sipped on some tequila. Her bathroom was spacious and had a waterfall shower that he luxuriated in when he stepped inside. One side of her walk-in wardrobe was lined with an assortment of brand new t-shirts, pants and dress shirts all for him. Of course she knew his size; she’d ripped his clothing off of him on many occasions. His stomach was doing flips as the time continued to tick by. It was hilarious that the big bad Tribal Chief was acting all giddy at the mere thought of a woman, but here he was, entangled in her expensive satin sheets, counting down the minutes until she was back in his arms.

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The sound of running water jerked him awake. The plane ride must have worn him out more than he thought; he didn’t even realize when he fell asleep. The sky outside was now pitch black but the bathroom lights were switched on. As he sat upright in the bed, something rolled down his bare chest and onto his lap. He looked down and his breath hitched. A sheer, baby pink-colored thong, just removed. Unable to resist, he held it up to his nose and shivered as her sensual aroma filled his nostrils and sent all his blood rushing south. With newfound enthusiasm, he climbed out of the bed and padded over to the bathroom. 

Katrina’s back was turned to him, standing over the tub as she drained the bath. Draped in a fluffy lilac bathrobe that barely covered her backside as she bent over, Joe chose to stand there and admire her, letting his eyes follow the rivulets of water that trickled down her long shapely legs. He trailed his gaze along the backs of her knees and her oh-so-sexy thighs, stopping at her luscious derrière where he found her pussy lips, slick and glistening, winking at him. He groaned out loud at the sight, feeling his bulge stir in his drawstring shorts.

Alerted by the noise he made, Kat spun around and sighed. "Oh, damn," she frowned and bounced her fist against her thigh.

Joe raised an eyebrow at her reaction. “Did I frighten you?”

“Not really. I wanted to wake you up by sucking your dick.” 

Chuckling heartily, he stepped closer. "You still can, baby. Don’t let me stop you,” he said, sealing their lips together in a kiss he’d been thinking about for weeks. He held her tight, molding their bodies together as time seemed to stop all around them. The anticipation had been building all day and just this moment alone was worth the long wait.  

Joe sighed happily against her lips, his fingers massaging the back of her neck. “Mmm, I can tell you missed me. Did you miss me, baby?”

“You know I did, Daddy,” she whispered back. It had been months in the making, but Kat was thrilled that he was finally here in her humble abode. She pulled back to regard him, marveling at the sheer height and width of him, his bare, broad chest showcasing that beautiful tattoo and all those muscles. Fuck, he was so hot. “I saw the roses in the kitchen, they’re beautiful,” she said.

“Not as beautiful as you are, baby,” Joe answered, brushing his thumb along her bottom lip. “How was your meeting?”

Kat huffed and rolled her eyes. “Waste of my time. Don’t really wanna talk about it,” she added, changing the topic to a more exciting one. “You looked so good last night, babe. I could see how happy you were to be back.”

“I was,” he admitted, his light brown eyes lighting up. “Bro, hearing the fans go bananas when my music hit was insane. And all those fingers in the air, too. Four years of bustin' my ass finally paying off.”

“Huh. I had one finger out too, but it wasn’t in the air, and I was layin’ in bed. Naked,” Kat teased, fluttering her long eyelashes at him.

The thought of her writhing around in bed aroused by his show of violence caused another tightening in his shorts. With a growl in his voice, he responded, "Show me." 

“Wait.” She put up one hand before he could grab her. “Before we get started…I never got to ask you because we were so busy with the funeral…But did you take the DNA test?” she asked, watching with dismay as his face fell. He looked away with a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, something she learned he did when he was reeling in his emotions. 

“Yeah. Josiah’s not mine,” he replied sadly.

Two distinct emotions of her own rushed through Kat at this news. Relief, that he was no longer tied to Ebony and he could now, finally, move on with his life. Move on with her. Disappointment, on his behalf, knowing that he had enjoyed getting to know the baby boy he’d thought was his child. “I’m so sorry,” was all she could muster.

“Don’t be. At least I know the truth now. I care about the kid, but he’s not my responsibility any more,” he choked out, the sting of losing that sweet little boy still raw and painful.

“Oh, baby.” Kat rubbed her hands up and down his broad back to soothe him. She regretted downing the mood and sought to fix it. “What can I do?” 

Joe shook his head and sank into her embrace. “Just be with me, like this. I wanna be with you. Thank you for bringing me out here, it’s exactly what I needed.”

“Of course. You know I gotchu,” she assured him, butterflies sprouting inside her belly as he dropped feather-light kisses on her neck, trailing along her shoulder which was soon bare as he slipped off her robe and dropped it to the floor. She tugged down his shorts and her hungry gaze zeroed in on that other part of him that she missed. All those FaceTime calls and selfies did very little justice to the real thing. This was his first time on her turf, and she was determined to use this week wisely, especially as this extended period didn’t quite exist before. 

In the beginning, their meetings were brief and eventful, a couple of hours’ escape from the madness going on in their individual lives. Meet up, scorch the sheets, and wake to the sound of the rustle of clothes pulled from the floor, the sharp zipping of bags, quick kisses goodbye followed by the front door quietly clicking open and shut. At each other’s mercy at sunset then disappearing before dawn to resume reality. It was a thrill at first but as time passed, Kat realized she wanted more with him. She wanted to begin and end her days in his sturdy arms. Wanted them to shower together, to eat together and spend much more time together. Simply put, she wanted to be a real couple, and she was ecstatic when he confessed that he wanted the same. Coming to L.A. was a great start and it excited Kat to no end.

Hand in hand, they walked together, naked, out of the bathroom. She giggled as he followed closely behind her, kissing her neck and touching her body along the way. As they reached the bed, Joe noticed the bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket full of ice on the nightstand. Kat read his mind. “Just a lil’ sumn to celebrate your arrival,” she clarified, as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand between his legs. His gaze was soft, yet beautifully intense as he ran his hands up her thighs and her hips, cupping her backside and bringing her even closer to him. He pressed his lips to her stomach, adorning her belly with gentle, open-mouthed kisses that felt so good she moaned pleasurably in approval.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered against her brown skin, his voice clear yet filled with a vulnerability he’d never felt before.

Kat smiled down at him. “Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“For real?” His heart pounding so hard in his chest he was sure she could hear it.

Her smile widened as she loosened his ponytail, letting the long dark locks fall and frame his breathtaking features like the angel he was. Her angel. “Yeah. I mean…After everything we’ve shared, after getting to know the beautiful person that you are, of course I’m in love with you too.”

They were words he’d been hoping to hear from her for a while now, and now that he had, he was robbed of every sensation other than joy and peace and the burning need to make love to her nonstop for the rest of his stay in the West Coast. “You’re beautiful too, baby girl,” he rasped, drawing her back in, “So fuckin’ beautiful…”

They clung to each other, making out with increasing passion, both of them extremely aroused and more desperate than ever in the wake of this wonderful revelation. As they kissed, he slipped one hand over her breast, kneading gently, eliciting from her those purring sounds that earned her sexy little nickname. He missed his Kitty Kat so much. The last time they were together was at his father’s funeral, and he couldn't be with her the way he wanted to be. Now that they were all alone there was nothing stopping him from having his way with her.

But apparently, she had other plans. 

She pushed him hard in the chest, smirking at his surprised grunt as he hit the mattress rather unceremoniously. “Get in,” she instructed him.

He frowned petulantly at her, but did as he was told, dragging himself backwards up the bed with his eyes on her at all times. He felt his mouth go dry as she crawled towards him on all fours like the sexy ass kitten she was. As she reached the space between his open legs, she surprised him by picking up her thong and winding it around his wrists, securing it tight before pushing his arms over his head. 

“Baby…” he pouted.

“Shhhh,” Kat shushed him quietly, thrilled by the submission in his eyes, the surrender in his soft moan, his dick hard and erect in anticipation. Having control over a man like him felt so empowering. Though sexually submissive to him, Kat always enjoyed it when the roles were switched. It never lasted long though, so she planned to make the most of it.

Climbing back down his body, she rubbed her hands on the expanse of his thighs, his caramel skin warm beneath her fingers. She moved higher, coming dangerously close to the pleasure between his legs but avoiding it, for now. She wanted to touch it but the wait was more exciting. Her hands disappeared to squeeze his ass cheeks, and then reappeared over his hips, traveling along the sharpened ridges of his six-pack abs and up to his broad chest. Her body followed suit, sliding up until her thighs bracketed his sides. The little hiss that escaped him as she sat on his torso thrilled her; she knew right away that he could feel her warm moistness against his skin. Her fingers found his nipples next, toying with them before leaning in to lick them, and giggled with amusement when his dick sprang high enough to smack against her backside.

“Fuck, baby, feel what you do to me?” Joe hissed, his cock jumping again as her mouth warmed his neck, nibbling on the shell of his ear as she whispered to him in the softest, deadliest timbre: 

"I’m just getting started, big guy."

Sitting upright on top of him, she reached for the ice bucket, scooping out an ice cube in the shape of an exquisite diamond. The ravenous look in Joe’s eyes matched hers as she sipped on the cube, letting the cold melt on her tongue and travel down her throat. Then, she bent down and kissed him, her cold tongue quickly warming up from the heat of his mouth. The wet muscles moved together in a sweet dance, delightedly intertwining, obsessed with the taste of each other. Kat pressed the ice cube to his chest, giggling when he jerked from the cold, and drew figure eights with it, watching rivulets of water trickle down the sides of his body. She put the ice cube on his right nipple and watched it harden. Then she replaced the ice with her warm mouth on his cold nipple.

“Shit, baby you killin’ me,” he moaned, looking on with hooded eyelids as she kissed down his body. She stopped between his legs, bowing her body in front of his erection, long and thick and hard, precum glistening on his slit. Her tongue darted out to taste it, licking her lips with pleasure. Giving him a sly wink, she took the tip of his dick in her mouth and sucked, winding her tongue around the head like a hungry snake. The moan that escaped his lips was needy and borderline painful, causing her eyes to light up in triumph. 

“When I get my hands on you…” he growled, his expression almost pissed, but Kat knew better. His frustration mingled with his lack of control, control she’d taken from him all day by calling the shots from his travel to the food he ate. The sensual power play continued as she massaged his dick, the thick velvety flesh twitching in her hands as his hands twitched in his makeshift binds. Using the flat of her tongue, she licked up and down his shaft, making slurping sounds that were drowned out by his groans as she spread her saliva all over his dick. She was addicted. He tasted so good and she craved to have her fill.

Putting a smaller ice cube in her mouth, she chewed it, crushing the ice with her teeth. From there, she hugged his dick with her lips, dousing the heat of his flesh with the coldness of her throat. Tiny bits of ice melted against his shaft as she sucked and tongued every inch of him. She could feel his chest heaving and his abs crunching, could hear his strangled moans as he got warmer and got harder in her mouth. He was right where she wanted him. Resting her weight on his burly thighs, she moaned to him to let go, and smiled when seconds later a shout burst from him, his hips arching off the bed as he unloaded down her throat. She drank her fill of him, glancing up to watch the pleasure ravage his huge body, giving a little smile as he floated down back to earth. 

“Oh my god…” he breathed, his body jerking when she pulled away, letting his dick, slick with her spit and his cum, plop down on his thigh. With one more long, soft kiss to his length, she slithered back up his body, pressing her lips to his for a sweet, delicate kiss which heavily contrasted with the heaviness of his dick brushing along her now-wet opening. Pleasing him turned her on in a way her notoriously composed self could never comprehend.

“You came so hard for me, baby. The look on your face was everything,” Kat gifted him a teasing lash of her tongue against his as she ran her hands up his arms to toy with the sheer material holding him hostage. Lifting her body up, she slowly sank down on his dick, a gasp slipping from her when the smooth tip pierced through her soft, slick folds, enabling her to wind her hips to take him all the way in. They both moaned as the thickness of him nudged her sweet spot, coaxing a whine out of her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting him close, making out with him while slowly rocking her body back and forth, grinding her clit on him. It stunned her to this day, how she was able to take him all, his length and girth filling her and hitting her most sensitive spot right away. The power that coursed through her at making him succumb to her will, no different from any pinning combination or submission move, was intoxicating. Her moans and his groans reverberated through the bedroom, the air thick with the scent of sex as she loved on him.

“Untie me. Now,” Joe commanded out of nowhere, the roughness of his tone surprising Kat. One look at the power and pleasure on his beautiful face told her he was not taking no for an answer. Obediently, she  reached up and unraveled the underwear from around his wrists, and she had barely tossed it aside when his hands came around her, finding her backside and thrusting deeper into her. Finally, he could touch her the way he wanted. He loved her ass, enjoyed the feel of it gyrating against his palms. He landed a heavy-handed slap on it, making her burrow her face in his neck with a soft cry, the sound growing more desperate as his fingers caressed the supple flesh of her ass while grinding up into her, making her feel so good.

“Such a badass bitch, yet so weak for me. Weak for this dick,” he purred to her with a kiss to her shoulder. The wicked gleam in his eyes had Kat both frustrated and aroused, but the unmistakable glimpse of lust clouding those eyes showed he was just as weak for her. With every downward motion of her hips, she could see him become more mesmerized, his breaths huskier, his face contorting with unbridled bliss as her pussy squeezed his length in deep, throbbing pulls. Sensing him trying to regain control, she beat him to it, pushing up and steadying herself on top of him. With both hands planted on his strong chest, she adjusted her legs in a squat and began bouncing on his dick, up and down, fucking him, taking from him what she wanted, giving him what he needed. 

“Fuck, that’s it, kitten, ride the shit outta my dick,” Joe groaned, his huge hands now clamped around her waist. “I’m here now, baby. I gotchu. Take it out on me, take all that stress out on me.” It was a wonder to watch her, her knees up and wide apart, treating him to the sight of her moist flesh gliding all the way down his turgid flesh and back up, leaving the base of his dick a wet, slippery mess. It looked incredible and felt even better. “You so wet for me, baby girl,” he rasped, reaching up to massage her bouncing breasts. “I love it when you use me. You love using Daddy’s big dick, huh?”

"Yes, Daddy I love it...Shiiit, oh my goddd!" Kat threw her head back, her moans shaky, her body trembling on top of him as waves of ecstasy washed over her thanks to the orgasm wracking her from head to toe.  

“Unnhh yeah, come for Daddy, come on my dick,” he moaned back to her, his full lips parted and panting, his eyes boring into hers as he watched her come undone. Overcome with passion, he sat upright and tugged her flush against him, his breath hitching as the action sank him even deeper into her. He needed to hold her to him, needed to make her all his. “I ain’t pullin’ out,” he announced, moving her on him again, “I'ma come all up inside you, baby.”

His words sank in, but any coherent answer she had disappeared with another rake of his dick against her g-spot. Wordlessly, Kat snuggled into his warm embrace, locking her arms and legs around him as she continued to grind on him in a deliciously erotic rhythm. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Joe planted a big kiss upon her throat, her jaw, then her lips, enjoying the taste of her moans as his hips rolled along with hers like a choreographed dance. Emotions were high as they joined as one, surrounded by the sounds of the newfound love they were finally expressing to each other. The mattress bounced beneath them, the legless bed rocking in tune with their heated bodies rocking on top of it. Every worry they had was gone and replaced with a hunger and need for the other that they both knew they would never be able to satiate.

"I love you," Joe whispered, pushing her hair out of her eyes to gaze into them.

“I love you too, baby...oh fuck,” Kat panted, burying her face in his shoulder, her hands sliding down to grip his ass as she bucked her hips like a mad woman. Joe moved with her, not missing a single beat. His own release was building fast within him, too fast. The blood was pounding in his head and tightening his balls as her pussy squeezed his cock so tight he was having a hard time catching his breath. They soon realized they were climaxing together, both shaking from the intense, throbbing waves of pleasure. Kat’s toes curled into the sheets as she felt his warm fluid gushing into her pussy just like he wanted, felt his body pulse as hard as his dick pulsing deep inside of her. No piece of music, no music video she created could ever compare to the magic she made with this incredible man, ever be as beautiful as the sight of his face scrunching up helplessly as his orgasm consumed him. So she kept her eyes on him for as long as she could, watching all the emotions sweep his gorgeous visage like an unforgettable movie. 

An eternity later, their movements slowed, their breathing calmed, their hearts racing as one as the world returned to normal. Joe felt light as air as he fell back onto the bed, Kat melting into him with her head on his chest, where his heart beat for her. He was still inside her and she kept him there, wanted to be filled with all his love in the very best way.

“Welcome home, my love,” she giggled, soothed by his own throaty chuckle vibrating against her skin. Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips pressed her forehead. She wished she could bottle the sound of his laugh, the feeling of his soft lips, bottle this very moment forever.

“Glad to be home, my love,” he answered, his fingers caressing her back as he kissed her mouth. “I can tell my time in L.A. is gonna be fun.”

"Mm-hmm. We got all week, Daddy," Kat eyed him with a sly smile, tracing her manicured index finger along his tattooed pectoral, "Like I said, we're just getting started."

THE END.

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A/N: This is the only story I've had the energy to complete. I'd love to know your thoughts!

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[aajjks]

Bunny!Jungkook

Hi, you must be Joshua! Im Yn! I’m so sorry to ask you to meet me so fast but it really is important to me.. I guess I’ll start um.. Lacy moved in almost a year ago. At first she seemed really sweet and then she saw me with my boyfriend one day, she talked about how attractive he was. It got worse after she found out he was a bunny hybrid. Immediately after she found out I.. Well own him, she wanted to pay me for him to sleep with him and after weeks of saying no, she began telling me all of.. The intimate details about him.. I don’t believe he cheated on me.. At least I’m praying to God he didn’t.. She continues to explain why she trusts him, her concerns about their privacy being invaded, and Lacy’s behavior..

Listen to me.. Lacy.. Her and I, we were together for 6 years. I.. I loved her more than anything but she’s a horrible person! She cheated on me multiple times, drugged men, she’s a violent person. She gets whatever she wants at the cost of anything or anyone. I don’t think she even cares for anything.. The only reason her and I stayed together was because I was too scared to be alone.. She owned me, legally.. It’s scary when I can’t even get a job as a hybrid without having an owner.. As a dog hybrid.. I crave sex, a lot but not as much as a bunny.. So the best way we made money was by making prom together. She wanted to move onto other men.. And she did. But, she’s always wanted a bunny. She’s more than a sex addict. She’s.. I don’t even know but she can have sex everyday all day long. A bunny would be perfect a for her.. But she’s obsessive.. She had her eyes on Jungkook for a lot longer than you think.. She knew his old owner. I remember seeing his photo on her phone. Lacy was trying to set up a meeting to talk about having sex with him. She wanted to pay a large amount of money for him. The owner wouldn’t allow it because he was so violent towards anyone.. Once he ran from his owner, Lacy searched for him for so long.. She won’t let him go now that she found him.. There’s something you need to know.. Whispering as he tells her the most important piece of information.

Hey Jungkook? I’m on my way home.. I’m sorry it’s really late but I was hoping we could talk.. It’s really important.. I think I’ve add my mind up about us..

“Hi noona!!!! O-Oh Of course I’m available can you just come home so we can talk I mean I brought your prescription to but you sound a little worried is everything OK you’re not going to leave me a ride please don’t leave me. I will do anything and I’m waiting for you to come home. What is it that you need to talk about? I’m so fucking scared right now. I love you. Come home soon. Please drive safe.”

[starkerscoop]

Vacant Mind (Ch. 1)

Tag List: @thatrandomsomnia @longlivestarker @geen-beems @consciencecoward @aoifelaufeyson @rebel13lion39 @katzenbaby1  @helaisthequeen @im-a-goner-foryou @hornvey @darker-soft-starker  @nerdylocksandthethreebears @canreadbutcannotwrite @carelessannie @bluestarker @briesb1tch @skimparker @idiyeet @blushing-starker-queen @buckettbarnes

Let me know if you want to be removed from the tag list, or added to it. The first three chapters of this fic are being reuploaded from my old blog, so that everyone can access them from this one. If you don’t want to be tagged for the first three chapters, but do want to be tagged for the remaining ones, let me know. 

Let the “didn’t know they were dating” fic commence... again

- 

Peter trudged through the streets, biting back a groan whenever the bustling passerby would bump into him. He felt hot, unnaturally so, and the sweat plastering his hair to the nape of his neck did nothing to cool him down. He wondered dimly when it had gotten so warm. The snow at his feet clung to his shoes, reminding him of the chill he was meant to be feeling, but he only felt uncomfortable in his jacket.

He shrugged it off, allowing the cold air to encompass his heated body. He stuffed the jacket into his backpack as he walked, and caught sight of the Spider-Man suit nestled at the bottom of the bag. Any excitement he might have had at the prospect of patrolling was replaced by dread. He was too tired to patrol, but saving lives was a job he took seriously, and so he ducked into an alley and donned his suit.

Karen switched on the heater in his suit the moment he put it on, and Peter barely restrained his complaints. Karen was programmed to keep the heater on in temperatures below 55℉, and had been ever since Tony found out that Peter couldn’t thermoregulate. If he switched it off, Karen would notify Tony, who would then badger him until he confessed that he wasn’t feeling well.

It was a protocol that Peter had thought was sweet when it was first installed. It made him feel like Tony cared about him beyond making sure he didn’t die in battle. Now, it was a thorn in his side.

Peter could only endure the additional warmth for two hours. In that time, he stopped a robbery, helped a man find his dropped hearing aid, and returned a lost dog to its crying owner.

By the time he arrived home and pulled off the suit, his body was slick all over with sweat, and his cheeks were flushed with a deeper red than he’d ever seen. He staggered over to his shower, pushing aside the curtain and falling in. He groped around the shower blindly until his hands caught the knob, which he twisted desperately until cold water started running down his face. He grasped the wall and stumbled to his feet, swaying in place as he let the water rinse off his sweat.

His head felt faint, and as his eyes roved over the stall in search of his shampoo, his vision started filling with black spots. Peter reached for his shampoo bottle once he found it, but lost his balance and fell towards it. His head smacked into the wall, and he was out like a light.

-

A hand combed through his hair, gently tugging and undoing the knots in it. Peter leaned into the comforting touch, an entirely different warmth to the one he’d been suffering from earlier filling his chest. The hand paused its ministrations, but didn’t pull away.

“Are you waking up?” a hushed voice murmured by his ear.

Peter struggled to open his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy, refusing to do anything other than twitch, and so he stared into darkness as the hand in his hair resumed its motion. He relaxed into the bed, giving up for the moment. He let himself drift in the darkness, the hand on his head his only tether to reality.

“It’s alright,” the same voice sighed fondly. “You do like your beauty sleep. Don’t worry, Pete. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Peter let himself slip away further at the assurance. He felt safe in the presence of that voice, warm and loving as it was.

The darkness wasn’t all that frightening now.

-

The steady beeping of the machine at Peter’s side roused him from his sleep. He shuffled in place a little as he craned his neck to the left, where he was met with a heart monitor that sounded in time with his heart. He swallowed thickly, wondering how he’d landed himself in the Med-Bay again.

“How are you feeling?”

Peter jumped in surprise, his head swivelling to the other side, where Tony was perched on a chair and watching him earnestly.

“I’m okay,” Peter took a moment to survey himself. “I have a small headache, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“Good,” Tony said, before his expression hardened. “Now, what were you thinking when you decided to patrol with a fever of 104 degrees?”

Peter groaned. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“You fell and hit your head in the shower,” Tony stressed. “What if you’d fallen while swinging? I doubt you’d have gotten away with only a headache if you fell thirty stories.”

Peter’s lips turned downward when he noticed the fear hidden behind the anger in Tony’s expression. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

Tony didn’t deny his fear, though he didn’t acknowledge it, either. “I’ll be adding more protocols to your suit. This isn’t happening again.”

Peter didn’t argue.

Tony’s shoulders lost some of their tension. “Are you hungry? I had someone restock the Jell-O.”

“Do you have red?” Peter’s face lit up.

Tony reached into the pockets of his slacks and brought out two cups of red Jell-O. He handed both to Peter, before setting a plastic spoon on top of them. Peter thanked him before peeling off the wrapper on one of the cups, and dunking his spoon into it. He scooped out a spoonful of the strawberry jelly and stuffed it into his mouth, paying no mind to the thin trail of it that trickled down his chin.

Tony swiped his thumb along Peter’s chin, clearing it of the jelly before sucking it into his own mouth. Peter dropped his spoon into his cup, watching with wide eyes until Tony pulled his thumb out of his mouth and cleaned it with a napkin.

“I’ll get someone to check you out and see if you can be discharged,” Tony patted his thigh as he stood. “Stay put, sweetheart.”

Peter’s jelly lay forgotten once Tony left. He had called him sweetheart. Just yesterday, Peter was trying to get him to drop the ‘kid’ moniker, and now he’d been upgraded to ‘sweetheart’? What had changed in the span of twenty-four hours?

When Tony came back, he was followed into the room by Dr. Althea Roberts, whom Peter was more than familiar with. Dr. Roberts treated him every time he ended up in the Med-Bay, and with how often he got injured, he got to know her well. Their friendship and Dr. Roberts’ talent in the medical field made her his favorite doctor.

“Mr. Parker,” she shook her head sternly. “What you pulled yesterday could’ve gotten you killed.”

“Yesterday?” Peter’s brows knitted together.

“You woke up a few times, but for the most part, you slept for a day,” Tony explained, taking a few steps back towards the door. “I’ll give you your privacy.”

Tony was leaving the room before Peter could tell him that he didn’t mind him hearing his conversation with Dr. Roberts. Still, he appreciated the space. Tony’s worry tended to morph into nosiness, the need to know everything wrong with his friends and rectify it driving him to budge his way into places he didn’t need to be in. Peter was glad to see him working on that — it was a byproduct of his anxiety, and one that Tony himself didn’t like.

Dr. Roberts started speaking as soon as the door swung closed. “You had a high fever. When you went to shower, you hit your head and got a concussion. If your head hurts, or you’re feeling confused, that’s normal and it will stop soon. You might experience some memory loss, but it shouldn’t be anything extreme. Any memories you might have lost will come back.”

“Okay,” Peter nodded to show he understood. “How did you find me in the shower? I was alone.”

“According to Mr. Stark, a friend of yours stopped by and found you in the shower. He called Mr. Stark, who brought you here to be treated.”

Dr. Roberts asked him some preliminary questions before giving him approval for a discharge. Once she finished speaking with him, she had a nurse come in and unhook him from all of the machines surrounding his bed. The nurse brought him the spare clothes he kept in the Med-Bay for when he’d inevitably need them, and he swapped his hospital gown for them. When he finished getting dressed, he exited the room he’d been staying in, and found Tony standing in the hallway with his phone in hand.

Tony slipped his phone into his pocket. “We can go now?”

“Yes,” Peter wrung his hands shyly. “Thank you for staying with me. You didn’t have to.”

A grim look settled over Tony’s face. “I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“I am okay, if that helps,” Peter offered.

Tony wrapped an arm over his shoulders, tugging him into his side as he led him to the reception counter he’d be discharged at. Peter tried not to sink into the touch, wanting to avoid giving away how much it pleased him to be so close to Tony, but he couldn’t help curling just a little bit closer.  

“It does.”

[anxiousnerdwritings]

May I pretty please get a platonic yandere home lander??? Maybe one that is already on the seven and he just likes them???

Yandere Platonic!Homelander

(I didn't know whether to go off the comics or the show, so I just stuck with the show. If anyone would prefer the comics let me know.) I went a little all over the place with this😅. I hope this is what you were looking for. You can always send in another request if need be.

Homelander is narcissistic, arrogant and may as well have a god complex. He knows he's superior compared to everyone else, especially the people he's "sworn" to keep safe and protect and that's why he has no real care or attachment to anyone. (At least not until you come into the picture.) He was made in a lab which lead him to not comprehend emotions and attachments, let alone build his own. All he knew and was taught was to be the person the Hero that Vought wanted him to be.

When you come to join the Seven, Homelander doesn't think much of you at all. He thinks you're just another body to fill the seat but really you're so much more and it doesn't take him long to come to that conclusion.

Homelander doesn't know what it is about you that calls his attention but he can't stop himself from always being right by your side. Maybe it's your inexperience and naivete that darws him in or maybe it's your gentle and nurturing nature that ensnares his attachment. Either way, there's something about you that's got Homelander becoming increasingly aware of you and all that goes on around you.

You're the newest young, fresh faced recruitment to the Seven, you're more a sidekick or intern then an actual full on hero but you'rejust happy to be part of a hero organizationand lend you're help. Starlight's probably the first and only one to actually "welcome" you to the group, the two of you will become fast friends.

You're probably assigned to work under each of the Seven, including Homelander which would give him more of a reason to become close with you. You're obviously in awe of him and his overall greatness, that's how he's portrayed on t.v. at least but that couldn't be farther from the truth.

At first he thinks you're just annoying and a nuisance, something to get in the way and cause more trouble then "good". You follow him around like your life depended on it but he can't say he hasn't gotten use to walking the halls only to have you trailing behind him like a puppy.

But one day you're not by his side or stepping on the end of his cape and he's more then confused. He'll go around asking whoever is around if they've seen you but no one has. He's not worried, he would never worry about a stray like you but he is getting increasingly impatient waiting for you to get back from wherever or whatever. Once he's had enough he'll take off and scour the city for you all from a bird's-eye veiw. He'll keep his ear out for the sound of your voice or the rythm of your hearbeat. He's using his x-ray vision to see wherever you might be but he can't find you and now he's starting to feel weird.

When you do finally come back Homelander is immediately confronting you and asking you every possible question he can think of. You answer every single one because who are you to withhold information from your "boss"/"mentor". He's not happy to find out you were with Starlight, he thinks she's trying to take you but she can't cause you're his, that's where your place is while your a part of the Seven. After that day you're not allowed to leave his side, your job is to be with him right? You're supposed to be working with him right? You're not supposed to go off with Starlight or anyone else, you just can't up and leave him like that ever again. He'll make sure of it.

Homelander's attachment towards you will be out of possessiveness than anything else. You're his underling and that's how it's going to stay. You aren't allowed to work with anyone else especially the other members of the Seven. He thinks of you as a puppy what with the way you follow him, damn near nipping at his heels. You are his loyal, devoted puppy and he's your owner. I don't think he can actually have a genuine parental relationship towards you, he doesn't know what to do with a child let alone how to be a real father but he can certainly try if he puts his twisted mind to it.

You won't be allowed near any of the other members of the Seven. He doesn't trust any of them except maybe Maeve and Noir but that's limited. If anyone give you trouble; Superheroes or not, they will be dealt with probably with murder because that's all Homelander really knows.

If Transparent tries to be creep on you in any way, Homelander will take care of it. If Deep tries anything with you, Homelander will take care of it. If anyone does anything to you, Homelander will take care of it.

You aren't allowed to go on any missions unless it's with him otherwise you stay somewhere safe and out of the way. Homelander isn't going to allow you to be put in a situation wher he could lose you completely. He still doesn't even really know what he feels for you but he knows that he needs to keep you close to him or he just might lose his mind.

If Butcher ever found out about you and tried to use you against Homelander, it would be an all out war. Homelander won't hold anything back from destroying whoever between him and you. (Could you imagine if Butcher and Homelander were both yandere!platonic for the same Reader?!?😰👀💀)

Homelander doesn't fully know how to take care of anything let alone another person but he'll make sure that you are. He wants you to be dependent on him for everything, he wants your praise and overall attention. He wants you to treat him like the god he believes he is. Homelander would have his own form of dependence towards you, he wouldn't know what to do with out you by his side. (You're almost like his emotional support sidekick/intern/pet.)

Having Homelander around leaves with absolutely no privacy or alone time. Whenever you are by his side even if it's for a small period of time, he's using his x-ray vision and watch im ng your every move as you go about whatever your doing. He fully believes he has every right to know everything there is about you and whatever you're doing or whoever you're talking to.

You're one of the few who can actually console him and keep him sort of in line but otherwise he's still a loose canon. The only difference is he has something to really lose because of his actions.

Homelander will 100% punish you, there are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He'll punish you for the smallest things just as long as he sees fits. All his punishments are harsh and absolutely painful.(The best kind of Darling to put up with him would be one who has a regenerative healing factor like Deadpool.)

He's temperamental and impatient, he'll lose whatever sort of calm and collected facade he had at the drop of a hat. He's unstable and you'll come to realize that much sooner than later. He believes that he has every right to own you and have full control over you. You won't have any say in anything, whatever he says go and that's how it's going to be. You won't be safe with him by any means but he'll do absolutely anything for you. You could even have some sense of power over him as long as you feed into his delusions. You could have one of the scariest members of the Seven wrapped around your finger, just give in to what he wants and needs.

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

Visions of a madman (Wesker x F!Reader)

Summary: the events take place after re4, when uroborus is in development.

Warning: heavy smut.

Wesker successfully collected a sample of Las Plagas with the help of Ada Wong. He now has them all, and with that he can begin working on uroborus and bring his vision to life.In order to achieve perfection, he plans to alter human DNA using the various types of viruses he acquired. His notion of a perfect world is a world without humanity.

The door of the elevator opened, leading to a small, poor illuminated corridor. It was a small victory for him, the first step to a perfect world. He decided it’s time to celebrate.

As he was walking on the corridor he couldn’t stop thinking about his treat. His sweet treat who probably waits him, needy and impatient. This little one that he is constantly thinking about got closer to a male scientist. It wasn’t anything serious, she just wanted a friend, but for him it seems they got too friendly which each other. He couldn’t bare the thought of someone else touching his little treat. It was only his to play with.

The scientist in question ended up as a failed experiment, and his little one locked in their room. He entered in the room and there she was. She was topless, wearing a pair of black thongs and had a cute black leash. The cage in which she was sitting was big enough for her and full with pillows and soft blankets.

After the incident Wesker made sure everyone knows who she belong to. He made her a special leash with his initials graved on it and was walking her around with that. She was always with him and he walked her around like a proud owner. When he told her to sit, she would sit.When he told her to speak, she would speak. When he told her to lick his boots, she would do so. She obeyed every command, no matter how degrading it was or how many people were in the room. This was her punishment.

The worst thing was the teasing. When they were in private, he would go between her legs, either giving a handjob or an oral, and never finish her. She wasn’t allowed to finish herself and she was easy to look after because she was always with him. The only privacy that she had was when she needed to use the bathroom. He would stimulate her even in the research lab, through it happened rarely.

One morning he left her a note saying that if she wants release, she needs to get in the cage and put all the accessories by the time he comes. She couldn’t wait and did so.

He approached the cage, smilling at the view. He reached out a hand between the bars, and she obeyed, placing her head in his palm. She was moving her back back and forth on his hand, showing affection like a cute little pet. He moved his hand, and with his fingers he traced a line from her neck, to her collarbone, to the right nipple, making circular motions around it. She arched her back, which made him to properly grab her breast and give it a massage. She wanted to touch herself but was stopped by Albert.

“What have I told you?”

“Im sorry, I really want you”

“My little doll, you are punished remember?” He twisted her nipple which caused her pain.

“Im sorry...” she gasped

“Sorry how?”

“Sorry Sir”

“Good girl”

He moved his other hand in the cage, hand still at the breast. She obeyed and put herself in his palm. He started to stroke her slowly, using his finger to draw lines. Suddenly he grabbed her panties and started pulling them rough, almost tearing them. The friction caused her to moan.

“Please..”

He opened the cage and dragged her out by the leash. He unzipped his pants, letting out his half errect member.

“Show me how much you want me”

She didn’t hesitate and started to lick him. She started at the base of his cock to the tip and backwards. Then he took his tip in her mouth and moved one hand to take his balls. He grabbed her hair and helped her going further on his length. She can’t remember the last time she tasted him. It was delightful. She took all of him and started to pick up the pace. He was moving his hips too, fucking that little mouth of hers, holding her head in a place. He was holding her by the leash the whole time.

He wanted more, to see her desperate. He removed himself from her mouth, saliva and cum dripping down her chin. He walked towards the bed. She wanted to raise but was forced back to her knees.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He let out a small chuckle. “You’re crawling”

She crawled to the bed, lead by the lesh, and was instructed to get up and spread her legs. He tossed her soaked panties on the floor, admiring her swollen pussy. Then he begin to spread her lips with his tongue.

“You’re not allowed to cum until i say so”

He was so cruel, she almost got her release back in the cage.

The tip of his tongue started making lines from her hole to her bud, stopping at her bud to press on it occasionally. He opened his mouth and sucked her bundle of nerves, then he inserted two fingers in her. Weeks of teasings made her so swollen he thought she was gonna explode. She was contracting around his fingers.

He knew she was close and removed his mouth and hand. He went to kiss her lips, a sweet, gentle kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her. She couldn’t think straight, she missed him, missed his touch. While kissing she could feel the tip at her entrance, coming slowly. With an easy pace he started to fuck her.

Dirty moans filled the room. He picked up the pace eventually, feeling himself coming to a close.

“Will you obey from now on?”

“Yes”

“If I caught you flirting again there will be serious consequences that will exceed sexual punishment. Do you understand?”

“But I didn’t..”

He started to slow his pace, almost exit her.

“I asked a question. Do you understand”

She wanted to fight him but she was to aroused and needy to think.

“Y-yes..”

“Good” he begin to thrust in her harder.

They were both so close, neither of them thinking straight anymore. She came hard on his cock, legs shaking. With an animalistic grunt he came too, releasing hot shots of cum in her.

He collapsed next to her. After a moment, he raised from the bed, pulling up his pants and went to the bathroom’s mirror to fix his appearance. He tucked his shirt back in his pants and headed towards her.

“I trust you that you’re going to behave from now”

“Yes Sir”

“Good girl. I suppose you don’t need your leash anymore.

She shook he head.

He moved his hands to her neck, removing it and then tossed it away.

“I have work to do. Clean up around here, and then come to the lab. I wanna show you something”

He exit the room and headed towards the elevator. A new era was about to begin and he was going to be the leader. As the elevator went up he couldn’t stop thinking if she was going to make it in his new era.

“She is expandable anyways”.

[overobsessivewhumper]

Mutt’s new home 2

I’m bad at naming things i write... Anyway, here’s part two! I had a tone of fun writing this, despite all the mistakes i made with the tenses...

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Trigger warnings: mention of blood and burns and stuff

Tag list: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @burtlederp @im-not-rare-im-rarr @comfortforthepain @18-toe-beans

To say that Gavin had no idea what the hell he was doing, would be an understatement. He’d never want anything to do with any Pet in the first place, and most definitely never wanted one as his own. He couldn’t have dealt with a Pet under any circumstances, and sure as hell couldn’t deal with one as scared as this one. He had no idea what to do. He didn’t want to frighten or stress him out, but had no idea how to avoid that. But he tried his best to just focus on tending to the injuries of the young man. Gavin crouched down in front of the couch once again.

“Could you please stop hugging your legs to your chest? Please? I just want to help you…” He complied without hesitation, albeit still shaking like a leaf. Now Gavin could get a good look at the man sitting before him. He could quickly summarize that he had no idea where to start. Mutt looks an absolute mess, and Gavin’s skills in first-aid weren’t the best. But he’d took a course a year or two ago, and remembered some of the things he’d learnt. First, he tried to prioritize what looks the worst from what looks more minor.

A dark bruise covers his right cheek, and other more faded-out ones cover his jaw and area around the eyes. A not too old looking cut lays high on his right cheek, and there are abrasions covering his jaw in places. Gavin guesses the latter is due to the muzzle. Bruises cover Mutt’s neck, probably from choking, and shoulders. Gavin reaches out and carefully prods the man’s clavicle and gets greeted with a whimper in response.

“Sorry…” Mutt doesn’t show any sign of having heard him.

After doing the same with his other collarbone, Gavin thinks that it’s safe to say they both seem intact, despite all the bruising. The same goes for his ribs. The bruising there is still dark in spots, but all in all, it appears more faded. The criss-cross of new and old cuts, some looking almost fresh and still bleeding, others already healing or scars. His left side bears an injury, that on closer inspection, turns out to be some sort of burn or scald. Curiosity drowned out by common sense Gavin doesn’t press Mutt on the subject. His legs look a similar state to his chest, though there seems to be more burns here. Specifically two pretty nasty ones in either crook of his knee. Gavin only finds out about these when he tries to shift Mutt’s knee to take a better look at it, slipping his hand under it. The man lets out a pained howl which he quickly tries to quench by biting into the side of his hand.

“Shit! Sorry! Sorry…” Leaning down a bit more, Gavin tries to see what caused such a reaction. The ugly burns that he discovers shock him. “Shit… That looks bad… Shit.” Gavin feels sick. It sickens him that someone would treat another person like this. “Shit. I’m really sorry.” Not knowing what to say, Gavin continued looking at the rest of Mutt. Next to a probably sprained ankle and some healing cuts at the bottom of his feet there was nothing too different from the rest. There seem to be a lot of scars hinting at past injuries, like long scars covering the bottom of his feet and palms of his hands, and the scars at his left shoulder, knee and some on both of his hands probably from breaks that needed medical attention. And his back was most definitively a mess. Scars cris-cross in each direction, with fresher welts and cuts that lay over those.

Gavin has to take a moment to breath an think. He stands up and takes a few steps away from him. Pacing back and forth, tugging at his shirt nervously, he tries to get his act together. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about himself right now, but he was finding it hard to process this all. At the start of the night he was thinking about if his hair didn’t look like he was trying too hard to look smart, and now he was the owner of an injured and traumatized Pet who has probably seen more abuse and pain dealt to him then Gavin could even imagine. What was he going to do? He couldn’t just… fix the damage and wrongs Mr. Hughes and others had done to the man like one would fix a car with a dented hood. Taking a deep breath Gavin pushes his nerves away as best he can, and turns back to the matter at hand. Mutt is trying to sit still, but can’t stop the trembling in his limbs. Gavin walks back over to him and crouches down.

“I’m… I’m going to try to take care of your injuries the best I can now. Some of it will probably hurt, so please tell me to stop if it’s too much, or I’m doing something wrong. I’ll… Yeah, I’ll just start if that’s okay…” Slowly, Mutt nods.

He starts by trying to clean any open wound with water and disinfectant. If he learnt something in the first-aid course he attended, it’s that you should clean open wounds thoroughly. The man was obviously trying his best to stay quiet, and was scarily good at it too. The fist time he let any kind of sound out being when Gavin pressed the wet cloth to the burn on his flank. He let out a quiet whine, closely followed by a hasty, frantic apology. Gavin made sure to assure him that it was okay for him to let out noises of pain if the pain got too bad and hoped it didn’t sound like he just wanted to hear his Pets pain being vocalized. Tending to his back and the nasty burns in the crooks of his knees lead to more pained whimpering, and Gavin had to stop for a while to let him breath whilst treating the latter. Gavin soon notices that he’ll need to buy more first-aid supplies, especially bandaging materials. But he has about enough to get the open wounds covered more or less.

Taking a look at the man, Gavin decides that it won’t be getting any better then this. To be honest, Mutt does not look any better at all. Now he just looks unwell and covered in bandages and plasters and such. Gavin sighs and rests his face in his hands.

“How are you holding up? Would you like an Advil?”

Scrunching his face up in confusion and leaning forwards, Mutt inquires “Ad… Advil?”

“Um… It’s a painkiller.”

“I… With… With all d… due respect Sir, I know wh… what Advil is…” Mutt ducks his head, like he’s expecting to be slapped. “I… I was just wondering… Why was… waste medicine on… on a… a Pet, Sir?”

Gavin messes with his hair whilst trying not to plot his boss’s murder. “I… I don’t see it as wasting medicine if I give it to someone that needs it. And I think you could use an Advil…”

“R… really, sir?”

“Yeah… Also, no need to call me Sir…” Gavin grabbed the box of Advil and a glass of water, handing both to the man sitting on his couch, who takes it looking unbelievably grateful. “It probably won’t take the pain away completely, but might… take the edge off. I don’t know… I’m not a pharmacist or a doctor…” Nervously Gavin runs his hand through his hair again and smiles a little bit awkwardly.

“Thank you Mas…” Mutt stops himself, takes a deep breath and tries again. “Thank you Ga… Gavin.”

Gavin laughs awkwardly. “No need to thank me. You shouldn’t have to be in pain…” For a moment, Gavin zones out, just staring off into the distance. Until he suddenly snapped out of it when he realized that Mutt was still only wearing those short white pants, that basically where essentially just boxer shorts, and that he still hadn’t offered him something to eat.

“Wait here a moment…” Gavin started to go off to look for a  clean pair of pyjamas for his… guest. “I’ll be right back!” It didn’t take him long to find something. A light-grey, short-sleeved top, and a pair of light-blue pyjama trousers. Both where relatively loose and mad of soft cotton.

Rushing back downstairs and handing the man the cloths and telling him to put them on, Gavin leaves to give him some privacy. So he goes to the kitchen to try and find something for him to eat. Gavin guessed he’d probably had pretty sparse meals whilst living with his previous master, so he opted to try and find something not all too heavy.

After checking the fridge and cupboards, he decides to make a bag of alphabet soup. Broth seems to be the go-to food for people who haven’t been eating for a while or are sick, and something warm was sure to be a good idea. He put the kettle on and went to check on the man. He was sitting on the couch again, trembling lightly.

“I… Uhh… Put the kettle on to make you some broth. I hope that’s okay.” Mutt nods eagerly. “So… would you like to… sit at the table until it’s done?”

“Sit… at a table? I’m all… allowed on furniture?” Gavin nods. The man gets up, looking slightly unstable. Gavin moves closer, letting Mutt lean on him. The way to the table is a bit slow, but no one ends up falling over, so Gavin sees it as a success. Sitting down, the man winces.

“Shit… Um… What’s causing you pain?” Looking him over, Gavin’s nerves return full force. What if he had overseen something? What if he had internal injuries? A look of shock crosses Mutt’s face and staring at Gavin with wide eyes he replies.

“It’s no… nothing new… Jus… just the abrupt change of posture pu… pulling at the injuries. Also the burns on my l… legs.” Gavin was surprised at Mutt’s lack of trying to hide his pain, but was happy he was being honest.

“Oh. Maybe if you move a bit forwards on the chair it won’t touch the burns?” Mutt doesn’t hesitate to do what Gavin told him to do. Gavin smiles, hoping he’s more comfortable now. Suddenly springing into action, Gavin broke the silence.

“I’ll get you the broth. You just… stay here and try to relax I guess.” Gavin shrugged, and went back into the kitchen. He made the soup in a bowl, making sure to ad a bit of cold water, to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Grabbing a spoon from a drawer, he made his way to the table. He put the soup down in front of the man who he now apparently owned, and smiled.

“Eat up. Or… don’t. I’m not forcing you to do anything.” He shrugs. “Just… eat as much as you feel like eating.” Thankfulness spreads over Mutt’s facial expression, and, still a little hesitantly, he starts to take spoonful after spoonful of soup.

Gavin takes the moment of relative calm to sit down on one of the other chairs, using his elbow to prop up his head. A wave of tiredness overcomes him. Well it was like… two in the morning, right? Gavin had no idea. He knew it would have to be early, but he wasn’t wearing a watch, and his mobile was probably in his jacket. All he knew, was that he was tired. Trying to keep awake and focused, he tried to concentrate on the man sitting at the same table as him. That did work for a while, but not for long. Soon his thoughts drifted, and his focus waned and not even the feeling of his face hitting the table could snap him back to reality.

[chimswae]

BTS Caretaker CH5

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 2,590

- Author Note: I suppose im late posting the new chapter because was too tired yesterday, therefore im changing my days of update. From now on i would do update every Saturday/Sunday weekly or biweekly. This is to avoid me forgetting hahah

Previous | Next

Chapter 5

“Who…the.. fuck… are.. you?” Yoongi lurched forwards trapping Seul between the kitchen counter. Every word came from his mouth were dangerously low and disturbing. He cursed something low beneath his breath, something that she couldn’t understand. It sounded like a thick accent from Busan or Daegu to her. Whatever it was, she felt small in front of him.

The breath caught in her throat and her heart twisted at the stunned tone of his voice.

“Stay away from me…” she clutched onto the counter trying to escape from his gaze.

Shit, am I getting caught? She mentally slapped herself for her stupidity.

The corner of his lips twitched into a smirk “Who the fuck are you?” he inquired again this time the tone of his voice was harsher than a minute ago.

Seul bit her lower lips trying to make up excuses, but what else could she say. Her mind went blank for a second and it was not good at all considering how Yoongi’s eyes piercing through her deepest soul. It paralyzed her body.

Getting annoyed, Yoongi leaned closer to her face minimizing the gap that they had earlier “Are you even listening? WHO. ARE. YOU?” he pressed.

She scowled at the proximity as she could literally feel the rate of his heartbeat increases against hers. Why would his heart react crazily like this? Plus, the smell from his hair is driving her crazy. Not that she wanted to creep the hell out of him, it is just he smelled too good. Way too manly, that a woman’s heart like her could melt instantly. Shrugging the thought off, her eyes darted to the guy in front of her. She mentally scanned Yoongi’s feature started with his small and thin lips which still appeared luscious to his nose and eyes. Crap, not this weird thought again.

His eyelashes batted perfectly matching that milky skin of his, how could a man be this flawless? It made sense since he’s an idol, yet heck he is still a man! Metrosexual guy like him really put all his heart into his appearance.

The hell, is she going to play dumb. Yoongi hissed frustrated of Seul’s silence.

“All right, since you are keeping your mouth shut. I am calling the cops” the corner of his lips was tugged into a meaningful smirk, causing Seul to flinch at the sudden threat. She let an unknowing gasp under her breath making the man slamming both hands on the marble counter trapping her body in between “Why? Are you scared?” his brows flinched together showing off the gaze that could kill million Armys.

“Because you are a sasaeng?”

“What did you do to ahjumma?”

“Did you make her give up her job today, so you can stalk me?” accusations after accusations were bombarded right on her face that triggered Seul’s anger in the end. She was still thinking of reasonable stories without uncovering the whole truth. Unsure of the consequences that her mother might receive in the future for bringing her in illegally made Seul became more cautious of everything surround him. First, she must deal with this grumpy monster in front of her.

Wait a minute, why should i? I am working here legally well technically illegally but still I have the staff identification card. Who is he to look down on me? Seul finally got back to her sense after spazzing over Yoongi’s visuals.

Her eyes landed on the bandage near his ears, as bad as this might sound but she found his weakest point. This guy in front of her was invading her personal space, didn’t he realize it was a serious offence. On top of all, none of Bangtan’s members should be around. Referring to their schedule today, they had an award show to attend as early as 6 in the morning.

Mustering up every ounce of her strength one of her hand reached out to his injured ears to give a small squish over there causing Yoongi to yelp in pain.  He cursed reflecting the pain that he experienced at the moment, as his body staggered backwards finally leaving a space for Seul to breathe.

“WHAT THE HELL WOMAN?” Yoongi touched his pulsing ears sending death glare at her way.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, bewildered of his presence at an odd hour like this. “NO ONE TOLD ME ABOUT ANYONE BAILING ON THE AWARDS?” Seul continued before Yoongi could even give her the answers.

Yoongi let out a sarcastic chuckle a hint of annoyance and anger “Fuck this. You even know our schedule? ARE YOU INSANE.. THAT IS IT IM CALLING THE COPS NOW!” his face grimaced due to the pain he experienced. He left dumbfounded Seul behind making his way stealthily to his room. As she finally registered what was going to happen next, her eyes widened in pure horror.

“WAIT WAIT WAIT!!!!” she skipped as fast as lightning to reach the older guy realizing what he planned to do. A single phone call would ruin everything for her especially her mother. That need to be stopped.

Despite being in the same size as Yoongi except Seul is much shorter than him, she grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him with all her might putting his step at halt. Yoongi inhaled a deep breath, as his body stumbled backwards crashing the girl against the wall.

“WHAT THE HELL? ARE YOU INSANE” the same thing came out from his mouth as if he was chanting a curse.

“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING? I am about to answer your questions!” she grumbled lowly, pushing Yoongi body off from touching her body. Lies was the last thing she wanted to do, or more like adding more lies to their existing lies. Yet, what choice did she has?

Yoongi clucked his tongue inside as he spun his body facing the worried Seul “Speak. If you don’t speak in 5 seconds, I swear to god I will make the phone call” he rolled his eyes scanning Seul from top to bottom.  Even though she looked pretty decent to be a sasaeng fan, but her face told him she was far from those title. Was he overreacting?

“Jeez, alright. I am your caretaker for now or at least until my mother got better” his brow ceased into a deep frown.

“What kind of bullshits you are trying to tell now?” Yoongi backfired with a nasty scoff.

“Not bullshits but truth” she heaved a deep sigh as her hand went to rummaged through her bags, finding her mother work ids. “Here..Mrs Hwang is my mother so digest it” she tossed the cards for Yoongi to catch it on time.

He was displeased with the way she acted but played along since this privacy invasion was severe than her attitude. Being in the condition whereby he wanted to believe or denying the fact that Seul was saying the right thing, Yoongi chose not to give in so easily.

“You don’t look like her, are you sure this is your mother? Anyone can claim to be Mrs Hwang’s daughter at this rate considering how crazy a fan like you can be!” Seul gritted her teeth feeling the anger built inside her slowly took over her mind.

Seul crossed her arms “That wont change the fact that I am her daughter you little piece of shit. For a record, I AM NOT YOUR FAN!” he was startled by her choice of foul words making him feel more irritable than before.

“Why would I trust a girl with foul mouth like you? That makes you make even suspicious. I demand the truth now”

“That is the truth. You are just too stupid to realize it”

“Excuse me? Do you think I would buy your ‘Mrs Hwang is my mother’ story? I am much better than that thank you”

“Gosh, as expected idols like you are nothing but pretty faces. A total asshole and dumb some more”

Yoongi shot her a bewildered glare “ First of all, thank you for stating the fact. Oh, secondly, we are bunch of genius. The only idiot in this room is you” he knew the banter was pointless and childish. However, Seul was driving him up the wall with all the nonsense coming from that pretty little lips of her.

“Whoever you are mister, I don’t think I need to explain everything to you. You are not even my employer” Seul grabbed her mother card from his hand harshly, shoving it inside her bags.

“I mean my mother’s employer” she corrected before grabbing the rest of her stuff getting ready to leave.

He took the chance to yank her hoodie with a strong tug, pulling Seul to face him again “Where do you think you are going?” for an odd reason he enjoyed seeing her flushed face. Seul was struggling like cute kitty wanting to escape from his owner’s grasp.

Feisty. He mentally laughed at her silliness.

“You are not allowed to leave. Let’s wait until my manager come back, we must deal with crazy girl like you. That is if you really are Mrs Hwang’s daughter” every word coming out from him was a total psycho. It irked Seul to the core.

“LET ME GO! DON’T MAKE ME DO SOMETHING THAT YOU WILL REGRET, I SWEAR I AM CAPABLE OF ANYTHING!” she yelled.

“Oh really? How crazy does it sound, I AM INTRIGUED BY THAT MISS MRS HWANG’S DAUGHTER” he challenged with a playful smug.

Seul pressed both of her lips into a thin line. Her eyes aimed for his injured ear again, yet she put a stop of that devil thought upon seeing a small red stain on the bandage. Her tummy churned in sheer fear, he was bleeding.

Shit Seul, think of something. You must leave now. A lot of crazy ideas were attacking her at once but the after effect of her action would bring more harm than good. Whatever it was, she needed to leave now. The guy in front of her would not spare her life so easily.

Should I aim for his crotch..She was about to sway her knee to give a little kick on Yoongi’s private area and as expected he was quick to catch that obvious gaze of her. As if her eyes were telling him the plan inside her head. Interesting.

“Got you” he lifted his leg blocking Seul from kneeing that fragile area.

Seul snorted in annoyance which later turned into a devilish smirk “Oh really?” she was contemplating to do this one thing which would end this bicker between them, so she could flee with ease. Seul thought it was a horrible idea, but slowly let her anger took over her sane mind, Yes.. I will make this little piece of shit shut up.

Snapping her head up meeting his deep gaze, Yoongi raised his eyebrow in confusion “Lower your gaze wom-“ his eyes popped out upon feeling a wet and moist friction against his lips. Seul was kissing him on his lips not cheeks, but his lips. What on earth just happened?

She cupped his cheeks, tiptoeing a little ‘Screw this Ji Seul, just do it and go. You will have to quit from now on’ Seul tilted her head a little ignoring stiff Yoongi as she was now kissing him for real. No more hanky panky.

Seul did not even care if he wasn’t kissing her back even though she could feel his lips quivered beneath hers slowly giving in.Yoongi froze in his spot staring straight into her dark brown eyes. He had no idea how to react neither did he knew what to do. This was a total madness.

Seul cussed regretting her stupid action but she could feel his grip start to loosen up, which meant her plan worked in the end. Because after all, Yoongi was too noisy. Seul calmed her racing heart due to her rash actions but decided to ignore all the stupid butterflies inside her tummy.

It can’t be undone. Screw this.

After for good two minutes locking lips, Seul pulled away quickly with a deep taint blush visible on both of her cheeks leaving shocked Min Yoongi behind. Taking off her aprons, she tossed it away and decided to make a run before Yoongi came back to his sense.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Seul smacked her lips, scolding it like it could respond her back afterwards.

Yoongi watched Seul’s figure disappeared from his vicinity as he bellowed his frustration loudly “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!” he raked fingers in his messy hair angrily. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to register earlier incident, she was kissing him on the lips. He was too taken aback that he stood there like a clown and a second later she flees leaving no trace behind.

“MIN YOONGI YOU IDIOT” he hissed pacing around the living room calming down his aching nerve. His heart beating furiously as if he would jump out from it by anytime soon. This was an invasion of privacy and sexual harassment. Would anyone even trust a guy being sexually harassed because after all the world is prejudiced when it came to man being sexually harassed.

Crazy. Clenching his fist, he was determined to find Seul again.

 ----------------

“Min Yoongi that sound insane” said Seokjin with a frown.

Yoongi had been convincing Jin about his encounter with Seul but to his dismay, the older guy would never trust him and assumed he was high with drugs. Heck, he wished he could turn back the time and changed that one scene which kept lingering in his mind.

The kiss was the stupidest thing that ever happened. How could he forget that?

“YAH ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME? SOMEONE TOOK OVER AHJUMMA’S JOB TODAY AND INVADED OUR DORM!” Yoongi facepalmed in frustration. He really wanted to punch Jin handsome face to let out all the frustration inside him now.

“As much as I want to trust you my friend, but I think that is impossible. The security here is pretty tight, how can she enter this building without an access card?  Can you take a chill pill. You must have seen it wrong” Jin sighed.

“The problem is I know what I saw. A girl around our age is here, in our kitchen! And for pete’s sake she is not even an ahjumma in fact.. far far away from being an ahjumma. YOU ARE FRUSTATING HYUNG” he rose from his feet, pacing back and forth with a grimace.

Jin shrugged while his hand massaging his tense muscle “Yoongi I am too tired to listen to your nonsense. Let’s talk about this tomorrow alright? And don’t talk about this to manager hyung. You will cause unnecessary worries” he mumbled. Yoongi watched the older boy lied down on the bed looking dead tired after their hectic schedule.

Sitting at the end of his bed, he ran his finger in his soft hair feeling a little glum after his failed attempt in convincing his own roommate. He decided to call it a day and talked it out with others tomorrow. Maybe, someone would trust him unlike traitor Kim Seokjin.

He threw his body heavy on the bed with a loud grunt. Reaching his finger to his lips, he found his heart felt giddy over the brief kiss that he shared with Seul few hours ago.

Groaning in his head, he buried his face in his pillow ‘DON’T YOU EVER DARE MIN SUGA..’ he huffed.

This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2020. All Rights Reserved.

[dumbdancemomssideblog]

S1E1: The Competition Begins

okie dokie first ever episode of dance moms rewatch starts now :0 i actually remember watching this the very first time it aired on lifetime because i was channel surfing and saw a commercial for it earlier that day. that was the summer between 8th and 9th grade. ah memories... i didnt know what to expect because i did dance when i was a kid but not on a competition team and it was mostly ballet so i was pretty unfamiliar with this whole world. 

anyway lets begin. this is probably gonna be a longer post than what i’ll end up writing for the other episodes in season 1 bc the first episode introduces so much info, just a heads up

Act 1: (aside: yes its insufferable to divide this into “acts” when its really just like “segments separated by commercial breaks” but thats how they’re called in actual tv scripts so im just going with that cuz i cant think of a better/easier way uwu)

god this is so fucking early 2010s lmao

i miss these days where they were just talented nobodies from pittsburgh on a low budget reality tv show that nobody even knew would be successful. and the bad hair and makeup but idk if that was also just a 2011 thing lol

THE REAL HOUSEWIVES GREEN SCREEN INTROS IM DYING

the chalkboard !!!! they werent doing the pyramid on the mirror yet 

(apparently abby never did anything similar to the pyramid thing but the producers made her and it became a whole Thing on the show and thats why the moms were like wtf is this bullshit the first week)

mackenzie looks like a toddler. chloe is so tiny. theyre the 2 who changed the most physically over the course of the show

i remember watching this for the first time being used to ballet lyrical and jazz but never having done or really seen acro/gymnastics in dance choreo and being SO flabbergasted. i was thinking “a chin stand is not dancing what the actual hell” and yknow what? i was right

melissa: “my boyfriend knows how much i spend on dance because he signs the checks...............hermehhemrherrmehermh” (the most awkward laugh omg)

maddie is wearing a fucking bumpit in her hair i cannot

melissa deadass just said out loud “im here for my daughter im not here to make friends” ok everybody mark that one off on your catty women’s reality tv show bingo card!

camera man accidentally getting in the shot filming right in front of the huge wall-mirror.... what is this, amateur hour? i’ll let it slide since its the first day of filming rehearsal but step it up, boys

aw i forgot about maddie getting sick and crying :/ poor kid

melissa saying “i cant stand a chid that’s sick” sounds so edited like the intonation made it seem to me like they just cut her off mid-sentence i love lifetime

oh this was still when they were wearing normal stuff to class/rehearsal like black leotards bc they werent getting sent a trillion crazy 2-piece dancewear outfits for free yet bc they werent famous, man those were the days

Act 2:

[obligatory b-roll footage of downtown pittsburgh] 

the maddie chloe paige trio !!!! this is making me feel so nostalgic

“knees together, paige. you’re bow-legged, you need to fix that”

“you’re tall, you’re skinny, you’re a beautiful girl, you can do better than this. FOCUS” shes like 10 abby what the hell

“people think im tough and i guess i am but i would rather be the one to make your kid cry in the privacy of my studio than at an open-call audition in front of hundreds of people”

okay unpopular opinion alert: i agree with a lot of what abby says about stuff like this but her delivery is flawed, to but it euphemistically, that being said i think the production team of the show and the fame inflating her ego changed all of this somewhere over the course of the second season and its really sad to see :/ i can expand on that thought later tho

aw paige crying bc abby correcting her (but not saying anything personal or out of line, just technique corrections (at based on what we were shown, we dont know everything she said oop)) shes a sensitive kid she never should have been put on this show :( 

paige looks exactly like her mom i didnt realize that before

nia and holly were done so dirty throughout the whole series in terms of the narrative the producers set up about nia being the weakest link :/ 

Act 3:

cathy’s entire involvement in the show from the very beginning was so painfully obviously scripted (or at least heavily staged) 

vivi was also done dirty by the show’s narrative and she was only 6 and they presented her as like the butt of the joke bc her mom’s “character” was crazy and also she wasnt good at dance. i wonder how she feels about the show now that shes a teenager hmm. she really seemed not to give a fuck about dance for better or for worse when she was a kid tho so maybe she doesnt care ?

in what universe would an owner of another competitive dance studio bring her own kid to another studio more than an hour’s drive away, AND be under the impression that she could compete with them in a week, especially when they showed the kids’ and moms’ shocked reaction at the start of the episode to having to learn a dance in a week and compete it? like really what is the point of cathy and vivi being a part of this show im so ????

Act 4: 

THE MINISTER DAWN OUTBURST HOW DID I FORGET ABOUT THIS

this fight is about 50% of what got them a full season 1 and then things took off from there tbh. the other 50% was the electricity dance but thats a point for next episode..... :)

“you’re a minister act like one” “YOU’RE RIGHT I AM A MINISTER! LET’S PLAY THE BIBLE GAME ABBY, WHEN JESUS SAW THINGS THAT WERE WRONG HE WENT AFTER THEM, AND YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DO THIS TO MY KID” ma’am i think the wrongs jesus addressed were of slightly more importance than a preteen being told she cant take a dance class if shes violating the studio’s dress code

this is so good bc it wasnt staged afaik and there are regular students all throughout the building just STARING at them like lmao what even is going on, so im pretty sure this is real???

regardless, yeah dont wear socks and a tshirt to an acrobatics class, thats common fucking sense

another cameraman-in-mirror sighting, but its hard to think about angles when filming spontaneous drama like this, so i wont count it against them

“you called me fat” (i remember that being in the episode but thats not on the episode available through lifetime on demand that im watching from my moms tv hmmmmmm) “i told you to close and tuck in your two-piece costume, theres a big difference. HOW CAN YOU REMEMBER THAT BUT YOU CAN’T REMEMBER TO TURN YOUR FEET OUT” uh scream

she really called the police on this woman i cannot handle this. can you imagine being a police officer responding to this call? 

“we have a parent thats out of control. pardon? no shes doesnt have weapons, just her mouth” iconic

im sorry im still not over the hair and makeup. the flat hair with the side bangs. the black pencil eyeliner applied all the way around the eye. why did any of us think this was a look :( why did we do this :(

Act 5:

they went all the way to phoenix to compete 3 numbers, only 2 of which are shown in the episode.

i think this is the only time they ever went to west coast dance explosion because its an actual competition and they wouldnt allow filming after this lol i think they did go to wcde one weekend in addition to a competition where they were filming but it wasnt shown or mentioned at all

abby not wanting brooke and paige to have a french manicure on stage if theyre the only ones in the group with the french tips is perfectly valid idk why it was framed as some crazy micromanaging shit

i also am really not a fan of the whole “high functioning alcoholic wine mom/crazy stage mom” schtick they were pushing for the first few episodes of this show

in retrospect i feel like so many of the quips in this episode were intentionally fucking crazy just to get the audience engaged enough to want to watch more episodes...

“see those girls down there, those girls with the legs? thats who you’re up against, so step it up”

abby warning them that its dangerous for their little party hats to slip when they’re doing aerials and pirouettes and stuff: “what if you were at radio city music hall and they had the ice rink out and you were doing a side aerial and fell 13 stories down and died, huh?” fantastic point abby thank you for saying that to 5 girls ages 8-12 less than 5 minutes before they went on stage. perfect time for a teaching moment like that :)

i forgot how bad the camera work was in the first few episodes for footage of their performances. like they really didnt think the show’s audience would actually want to watch the kids dance, the producers and editors thought we just wanted to see stage mothers yelling at each other lol

also the mic feed over the music of abby talking to herself giving them corrections while watching them dance on stage.... im so glad they quit doing that. i dont remember them doing it like that for any other episode, i hope im right

this choreo is very basic and its a cute dance i guess but its very cringe in some places and for the first episode this is such a forgettable group routine

their scandalized reaction to placing third and the sad piano music is so funny honestly

and maddies reaction in the interview which was almost definitely fed to her by the producers where shes like “i win all the time i dont really know what its like to LOSE i always win or get runner up” so many of maddies lines from season 1 interviews sound so fake and she was probably too naive to know they were getting her to say that stuff so they could paint her as a conceited brat (she was EIGHT)

the trio costume was so ugly im sorry (is it supposed to be like a 50s pinup bathing suit?) (and the headband thing looks so bad) and also the music is bad but they had no real authority over that bc of copyright stuff

chloe’s headpiece coming forward and the ensuing drama was another moment in the episode that really solidified public interest in the show imho.... 

“YOU’RE IN THE BAR HAVING A DRINK AND YOUR KID’S HEADPIECE IS FALLING OFF” “it did not FALL OFF it CAME FORWARD it was FINE!!!”

“mistakes happen, we’re human.” “YOU are. mistakes like that dont happen to me”

and then the “next time on dance moms” with the WILDLY INAPPROPRIATE electricity dance, of course. genuinely that was really smart of the producers in terms of structuring things to generate intrigue lol. and obviously it ended up working....

[taexual]

HOLIC - 37 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: angst (and a lot of technicalities, so bear with me)

words: 5.2k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

           prev / next

Jaebum still had his arms wrapped tightly around you when your alarm went off the next morning. His grip felt a little like what sleeping in the very center of hell must have felt like and yet, you’d have rather burned alive than complained. For the first few minutes after waking up, your anxiety didn’t even realize that it was supposed to work overtime today to prepare you for your interview, because waking up with Jaebum right next to you felt so calming.

It was very difficult to remember your responsibilities but, after spending another few moments content in his arms, – moments you knew you’d regret as soon as you left the motel and had to run to the gallery – you finally managed to pull out of his grip and sit up. Your skin shivered immediately – the motel room, when Jaebum wasn’t holding you, was surprisingly cold – and you went to find a sweater you’ve taken just in case before you headed for the shower.

As you rearranged your overnight bag in search of your make-up bag, Jaebum’s phone on the nightstand right next to you began to buzz. You couldn’t understand how the sound didn’t wake him up. He actually didn’t seem to hear it at all because when you stood up another moment later, Jaebum’s eyes were still closed and his breathing was just as slow, even though his phone continued to go off.

Thinking that something happened, you leaned closer to check if this was an emergency and if you should have woken him up for this, but retreated as soon as you saw Jackson’s name on the screen, along with a very aggressive, “CALL ME AS SOON AS YOU SEE THIS!!!!!” as one of the text messages, followed by a dozen identical ones.

You couldn’t tell what Jackson’s reasons for trying to reach Jaebum this early were, but you didn’t investigate further. This would have been an invasion of Jaebum’s privacy that you hoped you’d never have to resort to. Clearly, since Jackson didn’t bother calling and settled on endless texts instead, this wasn’t that big of a deal, and, therefore, it could wait until Jaebum saw the texts himself.

Glancing at his sleeping features one more time, you smiled to yourself out of reflex, and then headed for the bathroom to prepare for the day ahead.

It took you longer to gather the courage to leave the motel room – Jaebum was still asleep and, therefore, was unable to push you out of the door – than it took for you to find the gallery on foot. You didn’t want to bother with a taxi so you’d left early, expecting to get lost at least a few times on your way there – granted, you’ve miscalculated just how relatively small this city was – but you had Google Maps open on your phone for all of the fifteen minutes that it took you to reach the gallery. Needless to say, you stood outside of their door twenty minutes before your interview was supposed to start.

The gallery was not in a very large building even though it stood in-between two 20-floor giants – most likely the tallest buildings in this whole city – and looked decidedly out of place. When you opened the doors, however, you realized that this was only the first impression because, once you were inside, you saw that just the entrance desk and the waiting area alone took up as much space as half of the first floor of your gallery back home. The size of this place fit right in with the vibes of the city center.

As you waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call and let you know what to do, you looked around. It was certainly a photography-oriented place, contrary to the gallery you worked in - they only specialized in photography exhibitions once in a blue moon. Here, however, even without any exhibitions currently taking place, the walls were decorated by still-life moments captured by photographers whose names you've read up on before you came. You felt comfortable here – and, paradoxically, insecure, too – but that was soon to change.

“Miss?” the receptionist called on you another few minutes later. You raised your head and met her kind smile. “Please, come this way. They are ready for you. The whole team rarely ever gathers for interviews such as these, but we have everyone waiting for you today.”

You were suddenly very hot. “The whole team?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, leading you past the doors labeled “STAFF ONLY” and walking down the hall. The walls here were decorated with works of photography, too. “Usually, it's only our agents that attend the interviews. Or, well, in the case of up-and-coming photographers such as yourself, it's just one scouting agent. But the owner is here, too. And so are all three of our agents.”

“Oh,” you swallowed, not having prepared to impress such a huge group of important people. “I'm starting to feel the pressure.”

“Oh, don't!” she whipped her head to look at you and stopped outside of a sleek black double door at the end of the hall. “You should be honored. It is obvious that the gallery is interested in you, especially.”

You couldn't understand why that was – you hadn’t studied on campus here and you certainly hadn't made a name for yourself with your photography yet – but then the receptionist opened the door for you and you had to do a double-take at the sight of the room in front of you. You'd been warned to expect at least four people inside, but there was only one. And yet, the sight of him explained the special interested in you and, at the same time, it made it clear that you were absolutely not going to get an exhibition here.

“It's nice to see you again,” Jiho spoke, standing up from his seat on the far right of the meeting room where he'd been reading something on his tablet. “I hope you don't mind, I've asked the rest of my team to join us later so you would hopefully feel less intimidated.”

“You, uh... Y-you knew I was coming?” you asked, so deeply uncomfortable and distracted, you couldn't find one spot to rest your eyes on.

The sound of the door closing as the receptionist left you and him alone sent nervous shivers down your spine.

“Yes, well, your application had your name on it,” Jiho explained, this way revealing to you that the reason why he had called you in the car on your way over here could have been this. “Although, your last name did have a typo, so I wasn't sure if it was really you but all of my doubts were cleared when I saw your portfolio. Normally, it's just me holding interviews with our candidates – or, sometimes, it’s me and Luke, one of the senior agents here – but I gathered the whole team here today.”

You dared to look at him. “Why?”  

“Because I know how much potential you have,” he replied. “And I think this exhibition – if you don't mind hosting it here – shouldn't be a one-night event. I think we can make it last the whole weekend at the very least. And that’s just for starters.”

“I'm not sure I’m following your train of thought.”

“Sit, please,” he offered, pointing at the chair next to him.

You strongly debated leaving but, after having come all the way here, it wouldn’t have made sense to just drop everything and run. You had to, at least, endure this interview. So, you sat down next to him and desperately tried to stop your hands from shaking so much. When Jiho had mentioned – all of these days ago – that he came from a town six hours from here, you should have really kept in mind to avoid all places within the ratio of his potential hometown.

“Usually, when working with amateur photographers, we offer them a chance to hold their exhibition here for one night,” Jiho explained then. “We might buy some of their works for the gallery, and, of course, other people who are interested are able to contact the photographers through us later, too. But it's just this one night we’re offering. They present their work, interact with the guests, maybe earn a profit if these guests express an interest in buying something. And then, if they're thinking about another exhibition, they have to go through the same process again; they have to send us the updated resumes, go through the interviews and so on.”

“I see,” you nodded slowly. He seemed to have been describing an extremely short-term contract. “You don't guarantee them a future. It's just one night.”

“Right,” he said. “But that's not what I—we—want for you. I'm thinking it's possible for you to hold a successful weekend exhibition here. Three days, at the very least: Friday through Sunday.”

Knowing your lack of experience in exhibitions, Jiho was truly offering you a treasure chest. You couldn't understand why. In all of the times that you've known him, he had expressed his admiration for your work only once or twice, choosing instead to give you advice about what you could have done better. You’d learned that he was never one to freely share compliments, so this confused you.

“Why?” you asked again. “Why am I receiving this different treatment?”

“We must have two different sets of eyes if you have to ask me that,” he smiled. You didn't. “You're good. Very good. You have a lot of potential for growth. That's exactly what we're looking for here. At this current time, the gallery only sponsors two young photographers. That's where I started out, too, and, well, in three weeks, I'm having my second exhibition in the capital city.”

“Congratulations,” you said in a dry tone but he didn’t seem to pay attention to it and nodded politely.

“Thank you,” he said. “I hope you see that getting recognized by one gallery is already enough to jump-start your career. I stayed here because these people have helped me become who I am today, but getting their sponsorship does not necessarily mean you have to continue to work here. It's an open agreement.”

You were hesitant – and so desperate to find a way to turn back the time before you’d allowed yourself to believe that turning your dreams into reality was actually possible for you – but you still asked, “what does that imply, exactly?”

“It means that we're flexible. We'll never give you specific orders or find gigs for you. But we will sponsor you and whatever photoshoots you're interested in doing, and, most importantly, we’ll provide you with the opportunity to exhibit your work here again. If you should accept this opportunity,” Jiho explained and you closed your eyes momentarily, exhaling your frustration. You’d have been over the moon to get an offer like this at any other gallery. “As long as there’s mutual interest, we supply the money, you deliver the art.”

“Without any interviews?”

He nodded. “Without any interviews.”

“Sounds like this is based an awful lot on trust, though,” you pointed out.

“It is,” Jiho didn’t deny it. “We need to be able to trust the artists we're working with. I'd have never offered you this if I didn't trust you.”

Perhaps accidentally, he focused all of his attention on the offers of the gallery, avoiding the question you’d asked him twice already. You dreaded to know why he was really excluding you from the bunch of other applicants for an exhibition here and yet you couldn’t resist not finding out the real reason because this was simply too good to be true. There had to be a hidden intention here.

“So, you're offering me a three-day exhibition and a sponsorship,” you concluded, “even though I’m barely an amateur. Why?”

“Because you have potential,” he repeated himself.

“I can't help but feel like there's a catch,” you admitted, unable to conceal the suspicion in your voice.

Jiho smiled at this, not offended in the slightest.

“Perceptive as always,” he said and you cringed. Clearly, perception was not your strong suit or you would have figured out why a gallery so far away from your own city was offering you an exhibition. Moreover, you’d have seen through Jiho’s intentions from the moment you had first laid your eyes on him, and this meeting would have been far less awkward. “The only catch is that the gallery needs a stronger guarantee that you will succeed.”

“How can I guarantee that?”

“By making a name for yourself before your first exhibition,” he said simply. “It's smooth sailing from then on. You just need more people to know who you are and your exhibition will automatically succeed.”

“Critically acclaimed exhibitions aren't always hosted by famous photographers,” you said. “Sometimes, they’re hosted by unknown artists.”

“Of course. But “sometimes” is not a word we use when we agree to work with young photographers because we need guarantees. As I’ve said, the agreements we reach with our artists are based on mutual trust. We don't measure success in, uh, critical terms here,” Jiho spoke. “We focus on advertising. The gallery is making a name for itself through its' exhibitions. If our photographers are being talked about, the gallery is being talked about. That’s success to us. Consequently, the more popular the gallery is, the more success it can bring to its’ artists and vice versa. It's a win-win situation.”

That explained Jiho's need to have popular – beautiful – faces at his exhibitions. He wasn’t interested in getting recognized by the critics – at least, not as much as he was interested in gathering more attention – he just needed to become a household name.

“Alright,” you said, swallowing thickly. “And how do you suppose I can make a name for myself before I have an exhibition?”

“I'm here to help you with that.”

You could feel his answer in your chest but you still asked, “how?”

“I've started working on my own career by allowing Luke, the agent I'd mentioned before, to mentor me. He took me everywhere with him leading up to my debut as a photographer,” Jiho told you. He’d somehow – probably on purpose – skipped out on this part when he was telling you about his photography origins the first time you’d met. “He introduced me to so many people, we couldn't fit them all in here when the day of my exhibition arrived. I was an instant success because Luke believed in me. He became my first social connection, and the strongest one I had at the time, too.”

You weren’t looking at him because you knew he’d be waiting for your eyes to start glittering. He’d expect you to perk up at this and perhaps even agree to everything immediately. But this didn’t sound right. None of it did. It sounded too easy. Too fake. Those “success overnight” stories didn’t actually happen overnight and you wanted to believe that they happened because of someone’s hard-work and not because of various PR stunts.

“I can do that for you,” Jiho added gently after you didn’t reply.

“Why me, specifically?” you asked for the upteenth time, more confused by each of his explanations. “It can’t just be potential. There are lots of promising photographers out there.”

“There are. But they all lack something,” Jiho explained. “I’m offering this because I believe in you. I've already told you that this always works both ways - it would never be just me bringing you recognition. Both of us would be noticed. The press adores finding tendencies. Us two getting spotted at several events in a row? We'd be the talk of the photography world before we even realized it.”

“I… I don’t know,” you were already shaking your head before you could even open your mouth. “I don’t think that’s a—”

“Listen, if there are any personal affairs you’re worried about, I can explain the situation,” he cut in. “I mean, if you’re worried your boyfriend wouldn’t approve—”

“N-no,” you stopped him. You had a feeling Jaebum would have ended Jiho’s life on the spot if he saw him. God knows what he’d do if Jiho actually tried to explain this plan to him. “No. There’s no one to explain anything to.”

“Well, then I’m afraid I don’t really understand your hesitation,” Jiho said, chuckling awkwardly, “I know you’re smart enough to realize how crucial this is for the rest of your career. You know offers like these don’t fall out of the sky with every rainfall,” he paused, giving you time to consider the weight of his words. They were heavy, sure, but instead of pressing you down, they just made you want to run away to escape them faster. “But, of course, I’d never force you to do something you aren’t comfortable doing. The rest of my team will tell you the same thing when we meet up with them for a tour of the gallery later.”

“I—”

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now,” he continued, not letting you get a word in. “I think I’ve already told you that I took the job here because I want to help young, starting photographers.”

“Have you personally offered this to any other applicants?” you asked.

“No. None of them showed as much potential.”

You feared that potential had very little part in this. “Do… uh, do looks matter when it comes to this?”

“You’re a photographer,” he smiled. “You tell me.”

“Right,” you exhaled slowly before admitting, “I don’t want the reason why I’m hosting an exhibition to be my relationship with one of the agents of the gallery – because that’s what the media will think. That’s—I’m not sure that would be good for my reputation.”

“That would never be the reason,” Jiho disagreed but he wasn’t very convincing. “But even if it was, your reputation wouldn’t be damaged. Whatever the media assumes, we don’t interfere. You can’t destroy your reputation if you don’t even say anything, right? And that’s exactly how it goes – the more we’re seen together and the more we stay quiet about the nature of our relationship, the eager everyone will be to figure out what’s going on here. The press is the best at making a big deal out of nothing and it’s all just a game of publicity. By the time the exhibition happens, you won’t just be a promising amateur who takes pictures occassionally. You’ll be a promising photographer. People will know who you are and they will want to see what you’ve got.”

“That kind of media attention, though… it brings rumors,” you insisted, still having a hard time grasping his reasons for being so set on this as the right way to bring you success. “Being seen together causes speculation. Maybe people will even realize that what we’re doing is just for publicity. It will paint us both in a negative light to the point where it won’t even matter why we were actually together. It won’t matter that we never confirmed or denied anything. How is that going to help any of our careers?”

Jiho – chuckling lightly at your innocence because he liked to think that he was an old dog in this business – leaned in closer before he spoke, “let me teach you something vital about this: as long as people are talking, you’re doing great. You have a big heart and you care a lot about your appearance in the eyes of others but, the truth is, any kind of publicity is good publicity. It’s what brings you the recognition you seek. You don’t have to hope and pray to become one of the few popular photographers who became popular just because they’re that good. There are barely any people who could say that so it’s just unrealistic, really. But nor hope, nor prayer has anything to do with what we’re offering you. Our offer guarantees you become popular.”

You expected nothing less from him. Media attention was his main priority. Reputation was on a different level that was, clearly, nowhere near as important as popularity.

You’ve heard of the scandals the famous Hollywood photographers sometimes got involved in – it was all a part of “show business” – and you never wanted to become like them. However, at the end of the day, you really did not know what the inside of this world looked like. Perhaps Jiho was right to look at you with pity – your fear and your innocence when it came to similar manipulations might have been the very reason why it had taken you so long to send your portfolio to any gallery and this same innocence also threatened to become the reason why your career never advanced.

Your moral compass kept vibrating and telling you that this was not something you should have gotten involved in, but you knew that most of your values – and your ability to tell right from wrong – stemmed from fear and general conformity. You were starting to see that you lacked boldness and perhaps you lacked determination, too. Jiho was right, there were so few people who were magically rewarded with opportunities to become world-renowned artists on their own terms. Barely anyone was good enough -- and interesting enough -- to achieve immediate critical success with no outside help whatsoever. The rest of the world had to work hard to achieve popularity and success. They had to break out of their own shells. Step out of their comfort zones.

You didn’t think you had it in you to break the chains that were the norm for you. You didn’t think you’d manage to forcefully start your career Jiho’s way, but you didn’t want to fade into oblivion by waiting around for an opportunity to do this your way, either.

“I need some time to think,” you decided, your throat as dry as sandpaper.

“By all means,” Jiho leaned back in his seat. “Let me check with the rest of the team, then, alright? And then we’ll show you around and introduce you to this place. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

You didn’t feel up for a tour anymore. “Uh, I—”

“You can get back to us with your answer as soon as you reach a decision,” Jiho said, already standing up from his seat and pulling his phone out of his pocket. “The sooner the better, though. You know how this works.”

He smiled at you in this specific way that let you know that, although he was generous enough to offer you an opportunity to host an exhibition – even if it might have irreversibly stained your reputation – he wasn’t going to sit around waiting for your answer for too long. Perhaps the only reason why he was offering you some time to think at all, was because you and him already knew each other. Perhaps, when it came to others – not that there were any, according to him – he demanded an answer right away.

His smile told you that he thought he was doing you a huge favor. He thought he was offering to create a career for you. He thought he’d crafted the perfect conditions for you to succeed – the kind of conditions that no other gallery—no other agent—was ever going to offer you unless you magically became more well-known some other way.

And, with anxiety pooling in your stomach, you feared that Jiho was right. This was a favor that no one else was going to offer you. But it felt an awful lot like a crossroad contract – you may not have been selling your soul just yet, but you still worried you were about to make a deal with the devil.

When you left the gallery an hour later, your mood was even worse. The place was fantastic. And with each story the owner of the gallery told you – God, he was such a pleasant man; if it’d been him talking to you in that room, you’d have said yes right away – you kept falling in love with it more and more.

Three of your professors from college have actually hosted exhibitions here in the past, and one of them was even sponsored by the gallery for a few years before he took up the teaching position. It was like you were meant to come here. Like you were meant to start your career here.

And yet, you’d left without giving them an answer because responding in the affirmative would have meant stomping on all of your beliefs and agreeing to play their game with no rules. At the same time, dismissing the offer would have meant throwing your entire future away. Neither answer seemed appropriate and you’d never thought offers that could not be refused actually existed outside of Mafia books but now you knew they were real.

You’d hoped to clear your mind and settle on a decision that made more sense as you walked home from the gallery – it wasn’t hard: either you lost yourself or you lost your future –but you found yourself standing outside of the door of your motel room with your mind still buzzing with loud repetitive thoughts, lists of pros and cons, and dread, dread, dread.

But then you finally managed to open the door and, within moments, Jaebum was leaping from his bed and pushing you against the nearest wall.

“Thank God you’re back!” he exclaimed, his hands on either side of you, his face close. The excitement in his eyes was like nothing you’ve seen before and you couldn’t find it in you to worry if you’d closed the door after you entered.

“I—alright there, golden retriever,” you pressed your hands to his chest – noticing his rapid heartbeat and concluding that if he’d had a tail, he’d have been wagging it all over the place right now – and gave him a look. “Did something—”

“Yes!” he said. “Jackson called.”

“Okay,” you said, already having guessed that he might call, given the number of text messages you’d seen him send to Jaebum this morning. “What did he—”

“He said a representative of some entertainment agency had reached out to him. I don’t even know the label but Jackson does,” Jaebum continued, reading through your questions before you could finish asking them. Seeing him this energized with glee was, actually, slightly alarming. You could not deduce anything that he was going to say or do next. “Apparently, this representative would like to meet me face-to-face. They’re thinking of signing me.”

“They—” your eyes went wide. “Oh my God!”

“My point exactly!” he agreed, removing his hands from the wall on either side of you to clap them together. “I don’t—I didn’t even—shit, he said they contacted him last night but my phone was dying, so I didn’t get his call. But—fuck me, they want to meet me.”

“Shit,” you were laughing suddenly, your own anxiety long forgotten as your chest swelled with joy. “Jaebum, this is amazing. This is a huge step—no, a leap—towards becoming a real, actual singer. A-as a profession, not just a hobby.”

“I know,” his hands were on his cheeks as he turned around, walking a circle around the room due to his inability to stay still. “God, I know. I seriously can’t believe this.”

“You deserve this,” you reminded him, deciding to intervene and remove his hands from his face, taking them into yours instead, before he walked into a wall in this blind euphoria. “Did you agree on a date? When are you meeting these people?”

“I don’t know yet,” Jaebum replied. You may have stopped him from pacing around the room but his heart was very much still having a fieldtrip inside of his chest – it would have screamed, too, if only it could. “Jackson’s handling it. They just wanted to know if I’d be interested a-and now they know that I am—”

“How could you not be interested?” you cut him off and then realized, “unless you get a different offer.”

He shook his head. “Oh, no. This already doesn’t seem real. Another offer would mean I’ve entered a parallel universe where I’m actually, you know, lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with this,” you said, letting go of his hands and stepping closer to hug him instead. “It was pure talent. I’m so proud of you.”

“Shit,” he exhaled into your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and staying still for a good minute before finally remembering, “fuck—h-how was your meeting? Did it go well?”

He’d pulled away to ask this – you wished he hadn’t because then he wouldn’t have seen your face as you lied to him. Telling him the truth was simply not an option after you’ve seen this side of him – this hopeful, overjoyed side of him that you were sure you’d only be lucky enough to witness once in your life.

“It was fine,” you said, choosing your words carefully but trying your best to sound realistic. You nodded for more effect, too, wanting to change the topic but deciding not to because Jaebum’s expectant eyes weren’t going to let you get away with it. “They’re, uh—they’re considering me. Some tough competition, probably. But the gallery’s wonderful, they gave me a tour.”

He nodded along to every word you said and you thanked his good mood for temporarily clouding his mind or else he would have seen through your fabricated smile immediately. You didn’t want him to know the truth – to know the lengths you’d have to go in order to make your dream come true – because his road to his goals wasn’t as complicated as yours was. He’d waited long enough to start his singing career but once he dared to take a step forwards, he found himself steady on his feet. His bravery was paying off.

You, on the other hand? Maybe you should have waited longer because the steps you’ve taken so far were minimal and so very shaky, it was a miracle you hadn’t fallen off the ledge yet.

“I’m sure you’ll hear from them again soon,” Jaebum told you, his voice genuine. You couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach, the labels “failure” clouding your mind. He believed in you a lot more than you believed in yourself in that moment. “You simply have to. They can’t let someone like you go away.”

“I—” you started to say but Jaebum – his arms still around you – pulled you closer to him, prolonging the hug. His embrace made you forget what you were going to say. “Yeah. I hope they do.”

The only proof of the complicated situation you were in was the sigh that passed your lips but disappeared before Jaebum could feel it on his neck. Good. You didn’t want him to know about your own predicament. You didn’t want to rain on his parade – you knew how long he’d wanted this and how much courage it had taken for him to fight for it.

“This is finally working out,” he whispered into your neck. Your skin shivered but you didn’t think it was because his lips brushed against your neck with each word he spoke. “I’m so glad we’re in this together.”

“Jaebum,” you said shakily. You didn’t know why – it must have been your heart, seeking the comfort of his words, which it couldn’t get if Jaebum didn’t know the truth – and you regretted it as soon as his name escaped your lips.

Noticing the edge in your voice, he pulled away to look at you. “What?”

“I’m—” you swallowed, concealing that tears that had welled up in your eyes with a careful smile. You couldn’t do this. Shaking your head, you told him the honest truth, “I’m really glad you’re here with me.”

    chapter directory

[kokotaro]

Romantic headcanons for Coran, Lance, Keith, Hunk and Shiro with shy and quiet but kind and patient s/o please?

you got it!! again, im so sorry this is late ):enjoy! 

 Coran:

> Due to his already upbeat and quirky personality, he would be even more of the wacky person he is when he has a significant other after a very very long time of being only with Allura and the paladins. 

> He would be open minded to new things! And he would always do his best to make sure his partner is in tip-top shape, whether it be mentally, emotionally, or physically, he makes sure to always check in on them just in case they aren’t feeling all that well. He deeply cares for them not only as his partner but as a person that’s a part of their team as well and he definitely makes it known how much he cares often. 

> Coran’s favorite thing to do for them when they feel low is cook his favorite Altean dishes and cuisines that he grew up on as a child! He hopes it always brings them some form of happiness as it does for him. Usually he asks Hunk for help because he knows the boy has a Perfect Palette but even so, he takes care of it for the most part. While they have cute little dinner dates (usually in his room for privacy) he’ll tell them his favorite stories of when he was a child, and an angsty teen. They enjoy them greatly.

> Whenever he’s feeling a little down in the dumps he’s always thankful that they’re there for him and he always takes some time for himself by simply napping with them or sitting in front of the large windows they use in the main room of the ship. He feels at peace during these times.

> Since they all can’t really get out too much, Coran makes sure to take the group on frequent trips to the Space Mall to get out and about and just relax a little bit. He definitely breaks off from the group to be with his significant other and go bargain with different shop owners. It’s his idea of a perfect date but! he let’s them decide what they do way more than he does.

Lance:

> He is such a dork when it comes to his significant other, to be entirely honest. He loves to make them laugh, smile, and he especially loves to spoil them (when he can) as much as possible! He loves making them feel special because he wants them to see themselves the way he sees them, and those are his exact words every time they try to protest.

> He thinks it’s unbelievably cute whenever they blush but he purposefully wouldn’t embarrass them in front of the others as he knows how they shy they can be. He wouldn’t want them to be mad or upset with him. All he wants to do is take care of them! And he does, 100%.

> Lance would love to be affectionate with them but he knows their limitations and boundaries so he wouldn’t do anything they weren’t comfortable with. The most they usually do in front of the others is a peck on the cheek/forehead/nose and simple hand holding. However, when they’re alone together he just showers them with love and affection! He’d play with their hair, trace shapes on their skin, give them passionate kisses, and he’d hold them so close to himself. 

> Obviously he would use the absolute worst and the cheesiest pickup lines on his partner even though they are already a couple. He somehow either keeps finding them or coming up with new ones on his own and no one ever knows where this endless supply of cringey but kind of sweet quips come from. 

> Lance’s favorite form of a date is cooping up in his room with Hunk’s best homemade cookies and brownies, and array of junk foods along with it, blankets upon blankets, fuzzy lion slippers, and the BEST video games in existence! They spend hours and hours just playing video games, cuddling, and eating. It’s some of the best days he’s ever had and he cherishes them deeply.

Keith:

> Keith is used to spending a majority of his time alone, especially since he joined the Blade of Marmora and parts from the Voltron team for indefinite amounts of time. However, he does manage to communicate with them well whenever he does happen to be away and tries to enjoy the chats during his gaps of absence. But, because of this, he wouldn’t open up easily. 

> He would keep himself cold and distant for a good amount of time if he did find himself liking someone. With them being shy, and as soft spoken as they are, there would be a skinny love situation going on for a while until they’re both shoved in a room to work it all out. 

> Keith… is not good with words. He’s the type where his actions speak louder and he does show how much he cares with the way he moves and the gestures he does for them. He can’t even confess to them without needing to take pauses in between each phrase he can barely utter. They’re patient and kind enough to wait though which he appreciates. 

> Once both of their feelings are established, he very much prefers to just spend time with them on their own in a quiet place. His favorite is taking them out in his lion to get away from everyone else and even head off to another planet for some fresh air and time in the great outdoors. They love to explore together and take little adventures to places where only they know.

> He has to warm up to affection, little by little, because too much would be overstimulating and overwhelming for the guy. He’s not used to intimacy in general so at first the most he could do is hand holding and hugs, but over time he does become more comfortable and happy with the affection and intimacy of a true relationship. And he enjoys it thoroughly. 

Hunk:

> Let’s be real, this boy has had anxiety and been the voice of reason for the group in the past so catchin feelings for someone would make him feel rattled to his core. He’s gotten over the majority of his nervousness when it came to missions, speaking in a diplomatic manner, and being in a full on war in the galaxy but liking someone? Having feelings??? He can’t wrap his mind around it at first.

> This leads to him baking and cooking way more than any of the paladins are used to. They’re all confused, then theorize the reasons why he’s been making so many different foods lately because they hadn’t been on any missions nor had anything else been there to prompt such stress.

> Eventually he confessed that he had a crush on someone and everyone goes batshit wanting to know who it is. At first Pidge assumes it’s Shay and the rest of the group follows, soon leaving him be with himself. However, he still struggles a bit before actually saying something to the person he actually likes.

> Hunk thought the easiest way to get his feelings across was to blatantly spell it out on their favorite dessert and he gets so flustered when he’s baking it the poor boy makes hundreds of mistakes he’s never made before! Although he does get it finished and presents it to them sheepishly. From then on the two are pretty much attached at the hip, which everyone else is surprised by but they find it cute.

> Like Keith, Hunk likes to take his significant other out in his lion to get away from everyone else and just have some alone time. They simply drift, and he even let’s them try to steer if Yellow allowed it. Usually she does (he adores it). Other times, instead of going out on a little flying date he’ll cook them dinner or they’ll somehow hook up some movies to the big screen in the living room-like quarters of the castle and cuddle together, watching them, until they fall asleep.

Shiro:

> While being more mature than the others, Shiro still finds some difficulty in telling the person he likes how he genuinely feels. No class nor test could have prepared him for how tongue-tied he became when he tried to talk to them about it or ask them out on a slightly makeshift date. And, at the end of the day, he ultimately found himself exhausted trying to find ways to say how he felt without sounding like an idiot.

> He failed. He stuttered and stumbled over his words, and ended up a blushing mess in front of them. That was the last thing he wanted them to see of him (especially since he was once the leader of such a strong group of people). Well, he was glad he found some humor in it because they ended up laughing with him over his fumbled confession.

> After the awkward stage in their relationship, he grows to be increasingly affectionate but more with his words rather than in a physical manner. He loved hugs and cuddling but, even so, there were times where touching certain spots on his body triggered a flashback to his time with the galra and he didn’t want them to have to deal with the weight of it like he does. And, because of that, he’ll come up with new reasons everyday as to why he loves them. He always tells them his favorite quality in them is their patience.

> Shiro would try his best to heal from the past to have a better future with his partner. He would take on meditation, yoga, stress management, and multiple self care methods to keep himself as healthy as possible to have a good relationship. They help him through low times as much as they can and he has a deep gratitude for it.

> Shiro’s favorite pass time with his s/o is going to the pool with them! It’s not well known between everyone that he loves to swim but he does and he’ll drag him to the.. crazily set up Altean pool to relax in the water or have a playful water fight. He really loves just floating around with them laying on his stomach and enjoying the soothing feeling of the moments they share. He loves it the absolute most.

Bonus: His s/o teases him all the time for only being 6 years old lol (poor leap year baby)

[voidselfshipp]

Summer Love, Summer Tunes

Cw: n/a. Ask to tag!.

Only mutuals allowed to rb. Sorry for the long post. Im on Mobile but ill try adding a Reading more once im waking up from my nap.

Summary: Dylan falls in love with a regular camp counselor at Hacketts quarry. Soon finding out that shes more special than once originally thought.

-> nice comments are appreciated.

Taglist: @tex-treasures @malewifehenrycooldown @mercuryships @80sboyfriends

Summer. What a wonderfull season, sunshine, warmth, all in all just fun.

This summer at Hackett's Quarry wasnt going to be any different.

The first time Dylan met Nova he felt he was going to trip over his own jaw, abigail had to literally close his mouth.

--Alright everyone!-- Said Chris Hackett, owner of Hacketts Quarry-- This is Nova! Shes been a regular camp counselor for some years now! And she Will be joining you this year as well

--Hi!, im Nova! Nice to meet you-- Said a woman, Brown hair in a bun, green eyes that, now lit up by the sun, seemed like precious gemstones. She was wearing some high waisted shorts and a yellow tubetop.

--Nice to meet you too!-- Said kaytlin returning her smile.

--Well campers! Lets get this started!-- chris announced with a grin.

The first time dylan had a chance to talk to Nova was during one of the activities both of their Groups did togheter. As the campers started to look for sticks to make small birdhouses out of, dylan mustered all the courage he could and sat besides Nova, who was drawing away, imitating the lake before them.

--Hey-- He greeted her-- Nova, right?

The woman Turned to him, when her gaze meets his own he freezes for a moment-- Yep, im Nova, youre Dylan right? The guy from the announcements?

The Man nodded-- Ye-yeah thats me, glad to see my reputation proceeds me

She laughed, making his heart skip a beat-- apparently yeah, nice to meet the camp's radio host celebrity

--Radio host celebrity?-- Dylan asked with a brow raised.

--Thats how the kids at my cabin call you-- Nova explained.

--Well, if im such a celebrity in your cabin, mind if ask you to come with me to the radio shack tomorrow? I bet the kids would love some of that fun energy of yours, you Will have to wake up earlier though...

She just giggled, being taken off guard by the request-- Hah, sure. I dont see why not

The Next day at early morning, she went to the radio shack with Dylan to broadcast the announcements for the day.

--Okay-- Said the man-- We are on air in three ...two...one... now!

--Good morning campers!-- Nova said energetically yet softly-- this is Nova from cabin 9!, im here with Mr. Radio Host Celebrity aka Dylan, who was so kind to invite me here to say todays announcements! Starting off with the news that today all cabins Will hunt for frogs since yesterday night we had rain!-- And so she said the rest of the news for that day. It only took ten minutes or so-- And to close! Enjoy some tunes Dylan and me curated for today! Take care and remember! What doesnt kill you only makes you stronger!

Then the radio cut-- and we're good-- Dylan said-- nice job!, hey I know you didnt eat breakfast so I was wondering if you wanted to Grab a bite to eat?

--Heh, sure, why not..!-- Nova agreed,both going to the main cabin to get their delicious breakfast.

It didnt take long for them to hit it off, so much so that the kids of their respective Groups started singing "Dylan and Nova on a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G". It became a usual thing and though it didnt bother either of them, there was some truth to it...

Nova had her own room in the main cabin where the dinning room was, perfect for some privacy.

Her room had a loft that hosted her bed, under it was a desk, a bunch of plants and a little house for her pet mouse, Micelium.

She ruminiged through her clothes, finding the fancy avocado green dress with decorations of waves, pine trees and leaves, usually she would wear this to some fancy event or traditional druid festivities.

A druid...yeah thats what she was, a druid from the Mare clan, one of the oldest clans of druids, she smiled trailing over the embroidered decorations. A part of her wondered how the kids would react if they knew she wasnt...human.

How would Dylan react? Would he be scared? Concerned?...

She sighed shaking her head and grabbing the fawn mask the elders crafted for her, a parting gift for when she left the village to pursue her dreams.

She slipped on the dress and mask, admiring the golden details, the sun casted in gold on the masks forehead to the rings that decorated the horns.

To finish she slipped on the dark green riding hood-- Mice?-- Nova called out to her pet-- c'mon now its patroll time!

The small mouse peeked from his house made of wood, using a smaller riding hood of the same color as his owners, and a wooden mask of a fawn as well, though it had a waning crescent moon casted in silver.

The rodent zipped through the air in the shape of a flash of light, appearing on the womans shoulder.

--good to go?-- Micelium nodded-- good. Lets go

She slipped out of her room by the Window behind her bed, transforming into a beautiful barn owl, flying around the main cabin surveilling. Though...she couldnt help but perch on the Window that showed Dylan's Room.

She smiled, taking a bit of time to appreciate how peacefull his crush looked while sleeping.

Thoug her happiness was short lived as her mouse pet tugged at her feathers signaling her to get a move on.

--Yeah yeah I know..-- She muttered taking off to scout the rest of the area.

The breeze felt nice against her feathers, the way she hovered over the thick forest was gracefull and somewhat ethereal. Then again. She wasnt human...

No werewolves or dangers were seen that night so she was quick to return to her room.

She de-transformed and changed into some comfy clothes, going up the stairs to her loft to cuddle up in her bed.

Her fingers traced over a beautiful dark turquoise book, engraved with waves and plants on the covers and spine.

"Clan Mare og dens medlemmer" read the cover. It meant "Mare clan and its members" in norwegian.

Nova endulged herself in Reading the old weathered book, her digits ghosting over the family tree of her clans integrants.

There she saw the family of her friends, smiling as she observed the pictures of her Friends, wondering where could they be.

She made a pause as she reached her family tree, however. Her mother and father.

River, her mother, what a kind and caring woman, affective and funny, Her father, Oliver, was a hardworking Man, almost the same as River in personality, he loved to joke around and take care of his family.

Then she started to wonder if dylan would fit into the tree, his name meant son of the sea, he could very well be part of the Mare clan since they were stationed in the shore of Argentina.

Closing the book she left it besides her, hoping her nostalgia would wash away as she closed her eyes and cuddled further under the blankets.

The Next day arrived sooner than she expected. And soon enough she was instructing the kids on their Next activity, silently hoping she would get to see dylan soon.

Though, sadly she didnt see him until sundown, when the campers went to eat dinner.

--Heyy,theres my favorite forager-- Dylan joked sitting infront of Nova-- I took a sip of that lemonade you made today with the kids! Didnt know that we could use some of the flowers that Grow here! Where did you learn all of this?

--Hah, well my family knows. Kinda passed down through generations yknow?-- Nova answered with a smile.

-- Thats very useful, specially in camp-- the Man admitted-- hey, I was wondering if we could hang out? Maybe in your room since you dont have a roommate, its uh...no pressure tho..

--Sure, why not, everything okay?-- She asked looking at him, slightly concerned

Dylan stuttered a little, looking away-- I mean yeah...just uh...gotta tell you somethin'...

After dinner, both went to Novas bedroom, That was softly illuminated by fairy lights and some oil lamps.

--Mr. H lets you use actual oil lamps? Arent they a Fire hazard? -- Dylan inquired looking around.

--I mean yeah...but Chris trusts me enough to not set the place on Fire-- She joked-- wanna go up to the loft? Its comfier there

--U-uh yeah..I might need somewhere comfy considering what I wanna tell you-- The Man answered.

Once they sat on Novas bed, dylan took some time to start talking, then he cleared his throat after some minutes of painstaking silence.

--So...ive uhm...had feelings...for you...since you arrived-- He started-- Youre just...heh..youre just so pretty...and Smart...and insightfull, I feel like youre out of my League here but...I want to be with you...

Nova only smiled taking her crush's hand-- Thats a relief...I had feelings for you too

Dylan started smiling like a fool in love, cause he kind of was, and gave her a big hug, giggling a little as she hugged back, joining in with happy squeals.

From then on, both were inseparable, all summer long they were always togheter. Two peas in a pot.

Nova soon started to wonder when should she tell him about her druidic origin, scared he might see it as weird or disgusting....

Though, after the events of their final light at Hacketts Quarry, she soon realized that there were weirder and scarier things.

As they drove back to civilization,both sat at the back of the van, completly alone, just cuddling togheter in a bundle of blankets.

--So...now that we wont be comin back at the camp...what Will we do?-- Dylan asked, looking down at Nova, who was resting against his chest.

--...well I was hoping I could inscribe on other camps, or nature related things...you could come with while you study quantum physics..-- The woman proposed.

--Hmm...I would like that-- He agreed-- I really liked being camp counselor though..

--Agreed...

Soon they reached a motel where they would stay the night, they bunked up togheter and cuddled against a Window looking at the city.

--Yknow...I dont want to push it-- Dylan started-- you can tell me whenever you feel like it..but we need to talk about you growing plants out of thin air and being respected by literal werewolves...

Nova sighed-- Well...I was scared to tell you but after everything thats happened...I think theres worst things..., I am...a druid...I can grow plants, shapeshift into animals, speak to them..., can you pass me that book there?-- she pointed at the old dark turquoise book in her bag.

Dylan stretched over and grabbed it, handing it to her.

She opened it and showed her a map of each druid clan.

--The other druid clans here are stationed in Sanfran, Washington and New York, theres some in Florida too...my clan, the Mare clan are here...at the coast of Argentina..--She gestured to the the coast of Buenos Aires, a province from Argentina.

--Okay, thats super cool though...--dylan admitted-- what else can you tell me?

--Well.., mice was a gift from the elders of my clan, as well as my mask...-- She commented-- and heres my family tree-- she quickly flipped to the pages that had the family trees-- thats my mom, River and thats my dad, Oliver

--Hmm, thats interesting-- the Man commented-- hah that kid is you?

--Yep. Thats little old me

Dylan kissed the top of Novas head-- Dylan means son of the sea...would I fit in your clan?

--Absolutely...I thought about it yknow?...-- She stretched over to her backpack to Grab a pen, taking her lovers arm and draw some patterns on his forearm.

--What are you scribbling on there? -- he teased.

--When couples get togheter they usually paint markings like these on their skin to show that they are taken, usually combining things of their partner and them...so I thought I could put some branches, flowers...paint supplies and music for you, maybe even some equations for you ...

The Mans cheeks flush red as he looks away smiling-- Heh...Thank you baby...

He kissed her softly once she was done, holding her tight against his chest. The Next day they all went back on the road.

--What are those scribbles on your forearm? -- Abigail asked with a brow raised.

Dylan only smiled as he made himself comfortable on the back of the Van-- im taken -- he answered.

One day later they all returned to their homes, dylan was quick to visit Nova whenever he could.

Today was the day that he would be added to the family tree. He was anxious to say the least.

--So this thing updates instantly? You just have to add me?

Nova nodded, finishign writing down his name on the book-- Ive decided to add your name in a sunflower...its my favorite flower...and they mean happiness..cause youre my happiness...

The Man chuckled with a soft smile, kissing his lovers cheek-- I love you...

-- I love you too-- she answered-- wanna go cuddle?

He nodded, soon finding himself snuggling closer to his girlfriend. Every minute he spend with her was invaluable. Even the bad times they spent togheter...he wouldnt trade them for the world.

[twistedrunes]

George - Chapter 20

A Peaky Blinders Fanfiction

This is a series. If you’re new here welcome! I would recommend you start at  the beginning:   Chapter One

More chapters of George are available on the Masterlist

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters, settings etc. are the property of their respective owners. All original work is my own

Hello everyone!

Well, here we are, chapter 20 who would have thought it? Thank you again to everyone who likes, comments and reblogs. Really those reblogs make such a difference to the popularity of a post. So to those of you who reblog - thanks. 

Until next time xoxoxo

Chapter Twenty: 

Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.*

This is another very dark chapter - please if you’re at all triggered by violence and or sexual abuse perhaps leave this one alone - you can send me a message if you’d like a synopsis without the yucky bits.

Warnings: NSFW, sex, language, threats of violence, actual violence, sexual assault, rape, racial slurs, ethnic slurs, torture, character death, panic attack/flashback, pain and suffering. Just the tiniest bit of fluff.

You’re in a hospital, you can tell. Despite being unable to see, the harsh antiseptic smell, hushed voices, the cold of the steel gurney beneath you and the soft footsteps of rubber-soled shoes confirm it.

RUN!

“No, no. Stay still now.” Tommy’s voice coos, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Their resistance enough to prevent your escape.  You take a deep breath, his familiar smoky scent calming you. You slump back on the gurney.  

“Sir, you have to wait outside.” A harsh voice demands.

“No.” You shriek, grabbing Tommy’s wrist desperately with one hand while the other hits out at the hands pawing at you, trying to hold you in place.

“Stop!” Tommy’s voice commands, his free hand touching your shoulder reassuringly. “Get your hands off her now.” The hands release you.

“She needs to be sedated, and you need to go outside.” Another voice attempts to seize control back from Tommy.

“I’m not leaving. You’re not sedating her, and that’s fucking final.” Tommy growls.

“I said no-one was to touch this patient.” Doctor Prendergast roars, you hear his heavy footsteps quickly crossing to you, his voice hard in a way you’ve never heard. “All of you get out now.” He orders.

You hear a door close as another hand rests on your arm soothingly. “It’s okay now. It’s only Tommy and me. No-one else will touch you.” Doctor Prendergast assures you. 

“Good.” You mumble around swollen lips. Adrenaline gone, and medication waning, things are starting to hurt. A lot. But you welcome it, focusing on the pain. Tumbling gladly into the maelstrom of burning fire and cold lightning created by broken bones and battered tissues. Allowing the tempest to consume you. Obliterating reality.

“Anna? It’s Doctor Prendergast.” His hand touching your arm lightly.

“Mm,” You acknowledge.

“I’m sorry, but you need to stay here for a few days.” He continues.

“No,” you whine rolling away from the Doctor’s voice.

“I know you don’t want to.” The Doctor’s hand rubs your arm. You’re aware of Tommy taking your other hand. “But your cheekbone is broken” the Doctor continues, “and we need to put it back in place. There’s pressure on your eye, I’m afraid you might lose your sight in that eye if we don’t do it. Once it's done, you will have to stay a few days for the swelling to go down and to make sure you don’t have any complications.” He explains.

“No, please.” You whimper “I can’t stay here.” You pull your arms free and begin to sit up. Tensing and hissing with the effort and struggling to get your legs out from under the covers. Turning towards Tommy, you beg “Please take me home, Tommy. Don’t make me stay here.”

“We’ll look after you. We’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” Tommy says quietly. He stands, you can feel his warmth as he takes hold of your shoulders and leans in towards you. Your forehead rests against his chest. “But I need you to stay here and get looked after properly. Please.” He breathes in your ear.

You nod resignedly, you can feel your tears burning hot trails over your cheeks and leaving salty residue on your lips. Tommy guides you back onto your pillow, fixing the blankets around you. Then he very carefully brushes the tears from your cheeks with his handkerchief.

“Good girl.” The doctor says kindly. “I’m going to give you a shot.” Your body tenses and both men place soothing touches on your hands. “It’ll just help you relax and sleep. You need to sleep.” The doctor continues, his hand brushes over your hair. You nod once. “Just a little sting.” The doctor says as the needle penetrates into your flesh.

The doctor leaves, but Tommy’s hand stays resting on yours. You feel yourself sinking, a black abyss opening up around you and you let go, allowing yourself to fall. Welcoming the nothingness.

A small gasp from the door distracts you from the sound of Tommy’s voice. He’s reading to you. You can’t follow the words, finding the effort of concentrating too great. He could be reading the form guide for all you knew, but the rhythm and melody of his voice is reassuring. You open the eye not held closed in the swathe of bandages. Bandages which covered the new wounds made in surgery. You turn your head so you can see the source of the noise. Selene is standing just outside the doorway, slightly in front of Alfie, hand raised to her mouth.

“That bad?” You say quietly. Tommy stops reading and looks up.

“Oh no, darling. I didn’t mean.” Selene hurries over to your bedside. You shake your head holding up your hand indicating she should stop. Selene stops, hands clasped in front of her. Alfie stands behind her and places his hand on the small of her back reassuringly.

“Alfie, Selene.” Tommy greets them standing from his chair.

“Tommy.” Alfie replies, his eyes flicking to Tommy before returning to you.

Tommy’s fingers graze over the back of your hand lightly “I’m just going to step outside.” He tells you.

You nod. To the best of your knowledge, Tommy hadn’t left you since you’d arrived at the hospital. Other Shelby’s came and went, sometimes Tommy would step out into the hall, having hushed conversations but always where you could see him. He’d wait in the hall while Doctor Prendergast was examining you. But would loiter in the room, back turned for your privacy, whenever anyone else came to do anything. Often asking questions about what was happening and if it was necessary. He even washed, using a small basin, and changed in your room, pulling the curtain between you, but talking the whole time, so you knew he hadn’t left.  

“Sit.” Tommy instructs Alfie and Selene, indicating they should move to the side of the bed he had just vacated. The side where you could see them easily.

“How are you?” Selene asks her fingers brushing yours.

Tommy answers for you from the doorway. “She’s doing well. If everything goes how the doctor says, she should be right to go home in a few days.” You simply nod in agreement.

Alfie remains standing, giving the chair to Selene. He rubs his hand through his beard, scratching around the corners of his mouth. Keen eyes examining you. The visible parts of your face are still a mixture of yellow and green hues, the superficial damage from the assault fading. But he knows the look in your eye, seen it before too many times. The tell-tale thousand yard stare looking through him. The absence that comes with overwhelming loss. When the constant uncertainty and danger gets too much, even when the threat is long gone. 

Again he wondered at the soundness of doing what he was here to do. Selene insisted that to wait any longer would only make it worse. At first, he had been so confident in your ability to overcome. Citing all the other trauma’s you had endured and survived. Hell seemingly thrived. But now he sees the foolish optimism in that thinking. Everyone had a breaking point, and it seemed you had reached yours.

Alfie pulls a small box from his pocket, turning it in his fingers. Silent. Selene lays her hand on his forearm. Alfie glances at her “Yeah. Right.”

“Goliath didn’t have the best start in life, bit like yourself.” He begins. Selene nods mutely. “Anyway his dad went during the war and well his ma,” he pauses, and you nod. Goliath had told you his mother had been driven mad with grief when his father passed. “So he only had me. Poor fucker. Still, don’t know how he turned out to be such a sweet boy.” Alfie shakes his head sadly before continuing “Only thing he had from his folks was his ma’s engagement ring. A plain thing really, just a band.”

You watch him blankly trying to focus, to hear and understand the words coming out of his mouth.

Alfie frowns slightly before opening the box towards himself. “So he came to me a few weeks ago, and he tells me he wants to get the ring his mother left ‘im altered, right. But he wants it done all Kosher. Nothing illegal.” He turns the box towards you and places it carefully in your hand.

Your hand is shaking wildly as you look down. It’s a simple single pearl ring.

“The ring’s platinum,” Alfie explains. “Goliath wanted the pearl added. Told him he could‘ve brought ya whole fucking strings of pearls and fucking earrings to match, bloody ruby’s, diamond’s or fucking sapphires.” Selene gently touches Alfie’s arm bringing him out of his ramblings, “But, he said it had to be just the one pearl.” Alfie shakes his head a little “Anyway got it done by a friend, right? He’s a fucking magician he is. It’s all legal and above board from reputable dealers.” Alfie’s hands drop to his sides as he watches you intently.

The box falls into your lap your hand is shaking so much. You can barely see as your eyes fill with tears. “I can’t” you whisper “It’s your family heirloom.”

Alfie picks the box back up, putting it in your hand and closing your fingers around it “No. It was his, and he wanted you to have it.” He says firmly.

Selene leans forward in the chair and places her hand over Alfie’s. “Did he tell ya the story about pearls?” She asks.

You nod, remembering. The tears flowing freely now. Selene stands, leaning over and gently embracing you. “He really did love you. Don’t ever doubt that.” She says.

Clutching your shopping, you walk quickly along the road towards home. You’d been home for a few weeks now. It had been hard to come back. Tommy had offered you to come and stay at Arrow House for a while. But you needed to try and get back to normal. Selene had told you to take some time off. But you had returned to work in three days. The four walls of the apartment seemingly closing in on you. Suffocating you in memories of Goliath. He was embedded in every piece of furniture, every floorboard, every tile. George kept filling your head too. The busyness of work providing a welcome haven.

Something is wrong. You feel a familiar shiver down your spine. You look around you trying to work out what or who is out of place. Your heart races and your breath is coming in gasps. Your free hand pushes against your chest. You hurry past the alley next to the brothel, trying not to look at the spot where Goliath died. Decaying flowers still marking the spot.

A loud bang behind you stops you short. Packages dropping from your hands. You collapse against the wall sliding down into a pile of rubbish, arms covering your head. Losing yourself in the memory.

Goliath is dead.

You’re in Sabini’s cellar. Head in the trough, water blocking you from the sensations of the world. You feel only cold and panic. Your lungs scream and blood pounds in your head.

“Miss Hunter?” one of the new girls crouches down next to you, tugging at your arm “Are you okay?” You neither see nor hear her. Another of the girls approaches her. “Get Will.” The first girl says anxiously.

Goliath is dead.

Water is pressing in on you from all sides, squeezing the life from you. You reach the precipice, teetering on the edge. Only to be pulled back, gasping and shivering. Air filling you with life and hope. Each second that passes bringing you closer to the end of the torture. You take a breath and then another. Before being plunged back into the abyss again.

Goliath is dead.

“Anna?” Will says touching your hand lightly.

You look through him shivering and gasping. “He’s dead.” You say flatly.

“I know love. I’m sorry. Let’s get inside, hey.” He says easily picking you up.

“Dirty whore. The place should be burnt to the ground.” A woman, drawn in by the cluster of worried workers, spits at you.

“Fuck off ya slag.” One of your girls screams at her, as others stand between you and the public, protecting you from prying eyes.

Will strides past them all, not paying attention to anyone but you. Once inside he carries you up to your room. Calling for one of the girls to bring a whiskey over his shoulder. Will pulls a blanket from your bed wrapping it around you, before placing you gently on the sofa. When the drink arrives, he holds his hand over yours guiding it to your lips.

You look through him, barely aware he’s there. “He’s dead.” You repeat in the same flat monotone.

Will sits next to you on the sofa, pulling you against him. He looks over at the girl who brought the drink “Call the doctor.” He instructs her.

Will’s hand smooths your hair. Still confused and scared you break down and cry.

The expansion of the prostitution business had been your idea. The death of Sabini and subsequent dismantling of his empire had left Alfie, and the Shelby’s as the only two gangs in England and an alliance had been formed. Both parties had illegal and legitimate interests. Nearly all providing significant scope for other illegal activities, such as booze and gambling. You had suggested they add prostitution.

Your plan was twofold, firstly establishing a business to run prostitutes across the partnership, and secondly ensuring no-one else had any piece of that business. Essentially, a prostitution monopoly. 

Both Tommy and Alfie had been reluctant at first to ‘sell flesh’, but you had won them over. Pointing out that none of Selene’s prostitutes worked against their will and that the provision of high-quality girls and boys, catering for a range of tastes, along with the removal of any competition would result in excellent profits. You were fairly sure it was the money that won them both over.

On top of the expansion, you were finishing up the paperwork for Selene’s return to work. So you had been busy, really busy. It was a blessing, exactly what you needed. Mind always occupied you had little time to think about anything else. Cocaine helped you stay awake and your brain racing. Liquor and morphine numbing you sufficiently to sleep a few hours each night.

You were currently sitting in Selene’s office, in the middle of the floor working on the accounts. Piles of carefully sorted paper around you. 

“Anna?” Ruby says from the doorway.

“Mm?” You reply not really looking up.

“There’s a woman here to see you, a Mrs Thorne,” She says her eyes sweeping over the mess surrounding you.

“I’m not seeing new girls until tomorrow.” You interrupt.

“I don’t think she’s here for that, or if she is, she’s new to the game.” Ruby observes.

“What did she say she wanted?” You ask, finally looking up at her.

“Shelby business.” Ruby shrugs indicating the woman hadn’t felt the need to provide any more information than that.

“Fuck” You sigh. “Show her to the reception, get her a drink, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Dragging yourself up off the floor you slip your shoes back on and put on your holster on and jacket over the top. You sit at your desk and pull the mirror, razor and silver straw from your drawer and quickly do a line. The whole time trying to remember who the hell Mrs Thorne was. Coming up empty you decide the only way to know is, to go out and meet the woman.

Stepping into reception, you recognise who it is immediately, Ada. You take a deep breath and stop briefly at the bar, pouring yourself a large whiskey and checking she had a drink before you go to her table.

“Ada.” You say curtly, coming up behind her.

“Anna.” Ada turns giving a small smile and a nod. You notice she has a small, unmarked envelope in front of her on the table.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you were married, I didn’t recognise the name.” You begin.

“No. I guess we never really got the chance to get to know each other better did we?” She says reflectively.

“No.” You say stiffly “What can I help you with?”

“Tommy’s at Mr Solomons’. He thinks I’m shopping.” You nod waiting for her to get to the point “I wanted to apologise for the way I treated you at Tommy’s.” She says quickly.

You can’t stop your eyebrows from rising in surprise.

Ada nods contritely at your reaction “It was aimed at Tommy. I forgot you were a person too.”

Still, you say nothing, merely shrugging.

“He’s such a slut you know? And he treats women like shit. He doesn’t see the trail of human rubble he leaves behind him." She stops herself before her rant gets away from her. "Anyway, what I’m saying is, the things I said were comments on his character, not yours and I’m sorry if anything I said hurt you.”

You soften slightly, surprised. “Well, Tommy and I have never slept together so,” you begin but don’t really know how to finish.

Ada nods. “I know. I think that was good for him. I think he actually tried to be a friend. He seemed,” she pauses looking for the right word “better.” She shrugs knowing it wasn’t the right one “Well at least he did, until whatever he did for you to leave anyway.” Ada shakes her head.

Not in the mood to discuss Tommy or leaving Alea House any further you press on “I’m sorry Ada but I’m quite busy at the moment.” You nod discretely at the envelope.

“Yes, well.” She fingers the package nervously as if trying to decide what to do with it. “These are for you.” She says abruptly, pushing the package towards you.

You take it and pause. Ada nods that it is safe to open in the public view. You shake the contents out onto the table. Six or seven pieces of card fall out. You pick one up and turn it over. Your heart stops. It’s a photo of you and Goliath, with the Shelby’s after his last fight. Obviously, the photographer had taken a candid shot of you all. You were sitting on Goliath’s lap. The group were all smiling and laughing. You drop the photo on the table. “Why?” is all you manage to say trying to keep your emotions in check. Your thumb rubs over the pearl on your ring, your chest getting tighter.

“I lost my husband. Pestilence, after the war.” Ada says. You nod. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.” Ada continues pulling a photo from her purse turning it to show you. “Freddie.” She says simply “It helps to have a photo. For the days when you think that you’ll forget what they looked like. When you wonder if it was real or just your imagination.” She rubs her thumb tenderly along the edge of the photo. “Tommy said you didn’t have any photos.”

“No, I don’t.” Surprised that Tommy had even noticed. You pick up another of the photo’s “Where? How did you even get these?”

“I figured that a fighter would have had their photo in the paper. So I found out which papers covered his last fight and went to their offices.”

“I never saw these.” You say confused.

“They weren’t published. Apparently, Mr Solomons’ suggested there was no one of interest in them.” Ada cocks her eyebrow. She picks up another photo looking at it briefly before turning it towards you. “He obviously loved you.” She says showing you the photo. The two of you were looking at each other, oblivious in that moment to anything around you, completely absorbed in each other.

You’re stunned. You feel a tear escape, dropping on the table, you wipe it up quickly. “Why?” You whisper.

“Just saying you’re sorry isn’t enough, is it? Words don’t mean anything. I should have apologised for what I said at Tommy’s ages ago. It was mean and cruel, and you didn’t deserve it.” She pauses for a moment, finger playing in the condensation on her glass. “We all know he suffers, that he has his demons. But he doesn’t let any of us in. You were there for him when he needed it, and I should have been thanking you. Not being a bitch.” She insists holding your eye.

“He did the same for me.” You say quietly.

Ada nods, you can see she’s surprised. “I’m really sorry about what happened to Goliath, and you. Women involved with this family are always getting fucked over. Even the ones not fucking my brothers." She looks up at you. "And with the new alliance, you’re back with us, and I was hoping this time we could be friends.” She concludes as she squeezes your hand.

“Okay.” You say more out of shock than agreement. “Thank you, for these.” You say quietly, slowly turning the photo’s over one by one. It’s like looking into another person’s life. You barely recognise yourself.

Ada pats your hand and stands up. “Anyway, I’d better get going, or Tommy will think something’s happened to me.”

You snap out of your reverie “Let me get you a car.” You say looking up to catch the attention of one of the girls.

“No, it’s not necessary.” She says. You look at her not needing to say the words. She gives a half-laugh before explaining “I drove Tommy’s car.”

You give her a quick and awkward hug at the top of the stairs, the package of photo’s clutched in your hand. “Thank you.” You whisper.

She squeezes you back. “Don’t be a stranger. They all miss you and want to see you.”

“Fuck.” You groan in response to the persistent clanging of your alarm. You reach out to turn it off but hit only timber. Lifting your head, you find yourself face-to-face with the bottom of the sofa. You realise you’re on the floor in the lounge-room not in bed. The cacophony continues.

Grabbing the edge of the coffee table, you attempt to pull yourself to your knees. You only manage to flip an ashtray over, covering yourself in a layer of ash and discarded butts. Coughing you try again. Managing to get to your knees, you grab the half-empty glass of, something, from the table. Adding a good dash of morphine you knock it back in one, shuddering at its harshness. You misjudge the distance from your hand to the table and release the glass too early causing it to clatter loudly.

On your feet, you make a haphazard attempt to remove the ash and butts from yourself. Realising you’re wearing only a slip you look around you for your clothes.  Finding a dress, you struggle to pull it over your head as you make your way to your bed and the alarm. You pick up a half bottle of gin from the assorted bottles on the bedside and skull the contents as you bash on the alarm to make it stop.

Trying to get going you put the kettle on the stove. Reaching up to get the tea canister, you’re touched by the memory of Goliaths body against yours, hand over yours on the canister. Warm breath on your neck as his free hand would pull you closer to him. His lips inevitably caressing the skin of your neck, as you worked making the tea while Goliath stayed attached to you like a shadow. Lost in the memory your hands press against the counter as your head falls to the side exposing your neck.

“Where’re my fuckin’ smokes?” You hear a man’s voice grumble from the lounge room. Snapped harshly from your comforting memory you turn towards the voice, as a man wearing only boxers’ stands and stumbles to the bathroom.

Frantically trying to remember anything about the man, even his name, and failing you quickly collect his scattered clothing from the floor. You shove them into the man’s arms as he steps out of the bathroom.

“Oi! What’s this?” He says annoyed. “Ya man comin’ home or som’in’.”

“Yes.” You lie just wanting him out.

“Ya fuckin’ got a man? Jesus.” The man hops along simultaneously trying to dress and walk. You all but push him out the door in his underwear. Your eyes flit to the mirror next to the door, eyes drawn to the raised pink scar which shadowed your cheekbone. Doctor Prendergast had told you that the top reconstructive surgeons had done your operation and you were sure they had done their best. But, the scar was still there, a daily reminder of the worst day of your life.

Turning away you hunt through the assorted bottles, and other refuse on the kitchen table looking for a cigarette. Finding one, you light it and slump into a chair. You smoke as the tea goes cold. Stubbing out the cigarette, you run a line of cocaine on the table and start your day.

Swirling the ice in your glass, you glance around, bored. You’re waiting for Arthur and John.  They were late. You were at Alea house setting up a new brothel. The part of the house Lord Tarwin had previously occupied was being converted, and you were there overseeing the process.

“Another?” Robert the barman asks.

“Thanks.” You say, turning to look out across the foyer. The place was full, and punters seemed to be having a good time. You notice Isiah and wave to him.

He grins happily and changes direction towards you. “Miss.” He says tugging at the brim of his cap grinning cheekily.

“Hello, Isiah.” You greet him with a quick kiss on the cheek “Congratulations.”

Isiah glows “So ya saw Peggy? Can ya come? You know you’re kinda the reason we’re together.” He ducks his head as a slight blush blooms on his cheeks.

“Of course I’m coming. Is your dad doing the service?” You reply patting his shoulder.

“Yeah, he is.” Isiah says happily. You fall into silence for a moment. Something you had noticed often happened in your conversations recently. “I’m sorry about Goliath,” he says quietly his tone softening, “he seemed like a real nice fella.” You nod in thanks.  Silence falls again. “It’s good to see ya. We’ve missed ya, ya know? No-one to keep us inline.” He says, breaking the silence.

“So I can see.” You tease back “I’ve missed all of you too. It’s nice to be back actually.”

“How’s the conversion going?” He asks.

“Great. But I was meant to meet John and Arthur. Do you know where they are?”

“Yeah, they’re just sorting out a problem in the cellar.” He says with a cheeky grin.

You sigh “FG’s?”

“Oh fuck, no.” Isiah cries. “Nah, just some mouthy cunts who thought they could try and cheat us.”

“Good.” You say.

Isiah laughs “So violence is okay, but cheating is not.”

“Well mouthy cunts deserve what they get don’t they?” You shoot him a grin. “And you better watch yourself if you ever step out on Peggy. You’ll get to see just how much I disapprove of cheating.”

Isiah’s eyes light up as he laughs again “Did you just give me the shovel talk?”

You put your arm around his shoulders leaning in close “You better fucking believe it.” You say seriously.

Isiah giggles nervously “You know Anna, that’s actually fucking terrifying.”

“Good.” You say gruffly, clipping his ear playfully. “Anyway, you better get back to work hey?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Isiah says taking an exaggerated bow.

You wait for two more drinks before deciding to go and find John and Arthur. You’re already feeling a little tipsy but get a bottle each of gin and whiskey to take with you, and stop at the ladies to ‘powder your nose’, on the way. As you walk along the halls of the cellar, you just need to follow the noise to find Arthur and John.

“You thought you could cheat us?” Arthur says. His words followed by a wet thump.

“I think he did.” John replies. An oof followed by a low groan.

You knock on the door, and open it without waiting “I thought you boys could use some refreshments.” You say holding up the bottles. You are greeted by the sight of two men, both slightly bruised but still conscious, tied to chairs in the middle of the room with Arthur and John standing over them.

“Perfect timing Anna.” John says, a cheeky grin on his face as he swaggers over and takes the whiskey from you. Pulling the cork with his teeth and spitting it across the room before taking a long drink. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve before handing the bottle to Arthur.

Arthur takes a long drink. Handing the bottle back to you. “You here to help love, or just observe?”

“Oh no don’t let the lady hurt me.” One of the men laughs mockingly.

A look passes between you, John and Arthur. A silent agreement that you were going to make the man regret his words. You were so glad you wore a dress today.

“Think you can give me a few pointers?” You tease Arthur.

Arthur grunts affirmatively.

“Well, I don’t know Arthur. Women have no stomach for this kind of thing.” John says shaking his head.

You pop yourself up onto a barrel “Oh please, teach me.” You whine.

“Alright then.” John says with a heavy sigh. “Now what we’re doing here is teaching these fellows a lesson about the sin that is cheating at cards.” John says explaining slowly.

“Yes.” You say eagerly leaning forward.

“No John.” Arthur cuts his brother off “She needs to learn by doing.”

“Oh, do you think I could? I mean I’m just a girl. I only came to bring drinks.” You squeak batting your eyelashes as you pop down off the barrel, walking towards the men. You notice the loudmouthed man squirm uncomfortably. Arthur notices it too, and he grins.

Seeing your faces, John beams at you “Start with something little, like fingers.” He suggests, patting your ass playfully.

Isiah and some of the other Blinder boys have joined you, John and Arthur in the bar.

“It was fucking epic boys.” John crows “So there Anna is, saying I’m just a girl” He pitches his voice high, bats his eyelashes and holds his hands up in front of him, imitating you. “And then she walks up to this fella calm as you fucking like, and he’s laughing at her." He stands demonstrating now as he continues "So stands in front of him pulls the hem of her dress up, real fucking slow like a fuckin’ stripper, and he’s fucking drooling, thinking it’s his lucky fucking day right? So she inches her skirt up right up to the top of her stockings and then she pulls a fucking straight razor from her garter and calm as you fucking like she chops his fucking ear off.” John collapses back into his chair.

You duck your head at the crowing and cheering of the boys and snort another line of coke.  

“No.” You say rubbing your nose. “The best bit is Arthur. He walks over to him right? And he’s still fucking sooking about his ear. And Arthur stands on the side with no ear and says. Don’t fuck with the Peaky Fucking Blinders. And the man is just fucking crying about his ear, and so Arthur walks around to the other side.” You stand at this point, leaning down to John’s ear to demonstrate. “And Arthur says. Oh, I’m sorry you mustn’t have heard. Don’t fuck with the Peaky Fookin’ Blinders.” You laugh mocking Arthur’s accent.

The boys cheer and clap, and you laugh dropping back into your chair. Ducking your head to do another line.

The bar is suddenly very quiet. You turn rubbing your nose. Tommy is standing in the doorway. Eyes boring through you, body stiff, and hands clenched tightly.

“What the fuck are you lot doing?” He asks quietly, clearly audible even across the expanse of the hall.

“Drinking!” You say happily draining the contents of your glass in one.

“Just telling stories Tom.” Arthur says quietly, sensing his brother’s mood better than you. The other Blinders including Isiah quickly vanish leaving only you, John and Arthur to face Tommy’s anger.

Tommy’s jaw twitches as he pounces, snatching the vial “What the fuck is this?” He hisses, his face in yours.

“Snow.” You say with a nod, rubbing your nose again with the back of your hand. 

Tommy nods jaw flexing in irritation. He grabs your hand, “And this?” He says turning your wrist to show you. Your knuckles were bruised and scuffed, with dry blood crackling across your hand. The blood was from the loudmouthed man’s companion when you had punched him.

“She was just helping us with some fella’s who were cheating at cards.” John says.

Tommy doesn’t acknowledge John at all “Is that true?” He asks you coldly. “Because you don’t work here anymore. You left remember?”

You stay mute. Arthur opens his mouth to intercede on your behalf, but Tommy cuts him off before he can form his first word. “Since when do you let other people handle family business? Eh?” He demands of his brother.

“Now Tom,” Arthur says “Anna’s a Blinder, just like us.”

“She left.” Tommy reminds him and you.

“I’m going to get a drink.” You say standing, turning in the direction of the bar. But you lose your balance and end in a tangled mess on the floor. Giggling.

“You’ve had enough Anna. You need to go.” Tommy says coldly.

“I’m staying here.” You reply childishly. Crossing your arms across your chest defiantly.

Tommy closes his eyes for a moment before he leans over you snatching your purse from the table. Shoving it into the pocket of his jacket. Then bending down, he hoists you over his shoulder in a fireman carry. Not a single person speaks, moves or even coughs as Tommy carries you across the foyer and out into the cool night air. "Bye," you call blowing kisses back at John and Arthur. 

You giggle, waving goodbye to the Blinders on the front door as you pass them. You bounce along as Tommy strides across the gravel. Opening the door of his car, he dumps you unceremoniously into the front seat. As he makes his way around the car, you slide across into the driver’s seat.

“Move.” Tommy says opening the door. You stay put. Tommy drums his fingers on the roof of the car in irritation. “I won’t repeat myself.”

You roll your eyes and slide over.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“Home.” Tommy says tersely.

“London?” You ask confused.

“No, Arrow House.”

You say nothing looking out the window at the black nothingness either side of the car. You begin to get bored. You shuffle over closer to Tommy. He glances at you briefly before returning his attention to the road. You slide closer, so the outside of your thighs and upper arms are pressing against each other. You rest your head on his shoulder.

“You cold?” Tommy asks.

“No.,” you say sliding your hand onto his thigh. You feel every muscle in Tommy’s body clench. You slide your hand over his crotch. You feel him stir under your hand.

“What are you doing?” Tommy asks carefully.

“I think you know.” You reply, continuing your ministrations, he’s hardening already.

“Stop.” Tommy grabs your hand moving it to your lap. You say nothing sliding your hand back onto his thigh, you glide your hand along his length. Tommy pulls the car over and turns to face you “The fuck?”

“Yes, fuck.” You reply nodding as you reach out and cup his cheek in your palm drawing yourself up on one knee and leaning into him. “Isn’t that why you’re taking me home?”

“No.” Tommy says batting your hand away. You slide back over to your side of the car in a huff. “Not like this.” Tommy mutters as he climbs out of the car. Slamming the door behind him. He paces angrily along the road, puffing furiously on his cigarette. He stays outside the car for a good ten minutes. Coming back he leans down and speaks to you through the driver’s side window. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Fine.” You say shrugging and resting your head on the door frame closing your eyes.

Mary embraces you happily “It’s so good to see you, Miss.” She glows. “Charlie will be so excited.”

“It’s good to see you too Mary.” You say giving her a quick hug.

“Go and wait in my office.” Tommy dismisses you.

This time you decide not to argue and walk down the passage. You can hear Tommy and Mary speaking softly behind you.

You make your way to the liquor cabinet, picking up the whiskey bottle and pouring a glass. Tommy appears at your shoulder, taking the glass from you. “You’ve had enough.” He says sternly tossing the drink back himself.

“Humph.” You sulk., picking up a new glass and the whiskey bottle. Tommy grabs both attempting to pull them away from you. You struggle for a moment before letting go suddenly. Tommy takes a step back to balance himself. You grab a bottle of gin, falling back into a chair with a giggle.

Tommy stands in front of you, hand out in a silent demand for the bottle.  

You shake your head. “I have a complaint about your gin.” You say holding the bottle up for Tommy to see, but keeping it out of his reach.

“What’s that?” Tommy says through gritted teeth.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ work, does it?” You say, resting the bottle on your thigh.

Tommy raises his eyebrow obviously tiring of you. “Really? Because you’re fucking drunk.” He says sarcastically.

“No.” You say shaking your head adamantly. You turn the bottle, so the label is facing you. Tracing your finger along the print on the label, you read it aloud. “For the eradication of seemingly incurable sadness.” You look up at Tommy holding his eye “Doesn’t fuckin’ work.” You say collapsing back in the chair and chugging straight from the bottle.

“Fuck.” Tommy rubs his hand over his face, before snatching the bottle from your hand. “You’ve had enough.” He says firmly.

You roll your eyes. Tommy’s eyes close, you can see him trying to hold his temper. Inhaling deeply through his nose and blowing the breath out between pursed lips. “Come on.” He says opening his eyes and holding his hand out to help you up. “You need to go to bed.”

“Hold on. I gotta take my medicine.” You say. “Where’s my purse?”

Tommy grunts and drops it in your lap.

“Thank you.” You say with a satisfied nod. You open the clasp and pull out the bottle of morphine and a spoon. Carefully pouring the morphine into the spoon before sticking it in your mouth. You shudder as the bitterness coats your tongue. You pack the spoon and bottle away and close your purse. You get to your feet. “Ready.” You say.

Tommy’s face is unreadable. “I didn’t think you liked morphine.”

“I don’t like it, Tommy. I need it. It helps, with the pain.” You snap.

“I thought you saw things. Finn says you saw monsters.”

“Not anymore.” You say pushing past him towards the door. You stop short catching sight of yourself in the mirror above the fireplace. You stand looking at yourself “The only monster now is the one in the mirror.” You say softly, more to yourself than Tommy.

Tommy’s shoulders slump slightly. He steps forward and places his hands on your shoulders meeting your eye in the mirror “You’re not a monster. It’s just a scar.” He says softly in your ear, the warmth of his hands seeping into your shoulders.

Your eyes close. “It’s not what’s on the outside that makes me a monster Tommy.” You correct him.

You feel Tommy’s forehead press against your shoulder. “Anna,” he begins.

“The room is ready Mr Shelby.” You hear Mary say from the doorway.

You open your eyes and step out of Tommy’s grasp “Night Tommy.” You say following Mary from the room.  

Leaning against the window frame, you look out over the drive. The moon is full, the poplars casting long shadows across a silvery lawn. You look down, hearing the crunching of the gravel drive. Even from above you recognise the figure as Tommy, cigarette glowing, smoke forming a misty veil briefly before being whipped away by the wind, dark cap casting his face in shadow and coat billowing behind. He glances briefly up at your window, the moon making his pale eyes ghostly white, you can’t tell if he sees you. Then he gets in his car and drives off.

Keen to avoid sleep you decide to go back downstairs. You take your shoes off to avoid waking Mary and tiptoe down the stairs. You sneak into Tommy’s office, pouring yourself a drink and taking a book from the shelf. Detouring by Tommy’s desk, you help yourself to a cigarette lighting it using the crystal lighter next to the cigarette case. Puffing happily you settle yourself in the large armchair Tommy favours, tucking your feet up under you and open to the first page.

After an hour or so of reading, you decide you should probably go back to your room as you have no idea when Tommy will return, and you don’t feel like another discussion about your drinking. Or anything else really. Knowing he will notice the missing or used glass you decide to wash it yourself and return it. You pad quickly down the hallway, and down the stairs to the kitchen. 

In the dark and intoxicated you stumble on the last step. You fall heavily against the table, your cheek thudding against the timber. Reeling, you lose your balance and knock a chair over causing it to scrape against the stone floor. You pitch forward, putting your arms out to stop your fall, the glass smashes in your hand. Dazed you lay there as the cold from the floor seeps into you.

The smell of blood fills your nose. Cold drawing the air from your lungs. The only warmth you feel is from Zamir’s body pressed against you. His dick hard against your buttocks. You flinch as the blade skates over your skin, whimpering as your underwear falls away. 

“Tsk, tsk” Zamir hisses pressing his tongue flat against the side of your neck, creeping up to your ear like a slug on a leaf, “have you been a bad girl?” He asks, his voice slimier than his tongue. He forces himself into you. You bite your lip reminding yourself not to react.

Pulling out again, Zamir’s dick slides over your ass. He’s already panting. You can hear the wet suction of his hand as he plays with himself, your blood acting as a lubricant. Grunting, he pushes you down onto your knees. He rubs his bloody fingers over and around your mouth, holding your nose to force your mouth open. You resist for as long as you can. But eventually, you gasp for air.  Zamir yanks the wet rag from your mouth, shoving himself in. He presses his gun to your head. “You know the rules.” He threatens, hand gripping your jaw painfully to keep your mouth open. You gag tasting your own blood. Zamir groans as your throat flexes, thrusting his hips.

Holding his eye defiantly you bare your teeth, pulling your lips back, so your teeth grate against his vulnerable flesh. Zamir’s eyes flare, and he slams the butt of his gun into your cheek. You scream in pain, falling backwards as you lose all control of your muscles. 

As before, you concentrate on packing the pain away. On staying alive. The vision of Goliath dead in the alley returns to you again and again, and you want to give up, just die and join him. But you know that you won’t go where he’s gone. So you need to live. You need to avenge him.

You can feel blood running down the back of your throat. Zamir grabs your jaw again, hauling you back to your knees. He presses his dick against your cheek coating it in more of your blood. You vomit. Zamir jumps back swearing and cursing you. He drags you to your feet. Slamming you against the crate and driving himself into you again.

“You’re safe.”

You’re trapped. Your wrists bound.  

“Just breathe.”

You need to get free.

“You’re safe. Just breathe”

“No!” you scream thrashing trying to break free. You hear someone grunt. But, you remain trapped.

“You’re safe. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

You look around you frantically. Disoriented and confused.

“Just breathe. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

You’re on the floor. There’s a large wooden table above you.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe. Just breathe.”

Tommy. He has enveloped you with his body. Legs either side of you, hands holding your wrists tightly. Your arms and his tightly wrapped around you. Your back pulled firmly against his chest.

“I’ve got you. Just breathe.” You can feel the words reverberate through his chest into you.

You take a deep shuddering breath, slumping against Tommy. You can feel tears streaming down your face but don’t seem able to stop them.

“I’ve got you.”

Tommy loosens his grip on your wrists. You can feel his heart pounding. The rapid rising and falling of his chest as he breathes. He lets out a slow breath, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel some of the tension release from his limbs.

You pull your knees to your chest. Slumping your chest forward you wrap your arms around your legs, laying forehead on your knees.

Tommy stays wrapped around you. His head resting on your back. His hand gently tugs yours lifting it so he can see.

It’s covered in blood, a deep gash across your palm. You begin to shiver violently. Teeth chattering.

“Let’s get off the floor, ‘ey?” Tommy says quietly. Slowly slipping his arm around your waist. His free hand clutches the edge of the table, and he uses it to leverage you both off the floor. “Don’t move.” He instructs firmly. “There’s glass everywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I fell down.”

“It’s just a glass.” Tommy says shrugging off his overcoat and placing it over your shoulders. He pulls it closed around you. “I’m going to carry you, so you don’t cut your feet.” He explains. You nod, and he lifts you. Resting your head against him, your eyes close as he carries you up the stairs and down the hall to his study. 

Your breathing is still laboured and erratic, and you’re still shivering. He sets you carefully on the sofa. He crosses the room and rings one of the servant bells before returning to you. Squatting in front of you he and lifts your feet, inspecting them for cuts or glass before brushing them off with his hand. “What are you doing running around barefoot hey?” He asks trying to make his voice light.

“Didn’t want to wake Mary.” You admit, dropping your head back against the back of the chair.

Tommy nods, resting his hands on his thighs for balance as he stays squatting in front of you. There’s a light knock on the door. “Come.” He replies.

Mary steps into the room, “Mr Shelby?” she asks, her eyes flitting between you, and Tommy.

“Thank you Mary. Anna’s had a little accident. Could you call the doctor for me? Bring some warm water in a basin, some tweezers, cotton and gauze? Be careful in the kitchen there's glass on the floor.” Tommy speaks quickly and efficiently.

“Yes, Mr Shelby.” Mary says.

“Oh, and can you get Anna some socks and slippers and bring some blankets too please?” Tommy adds.

“Yes, Mr Shelby.” Mary says slipping out the door again.

You watch the exchange blankly as tears continue to roll down your cheeks

“She’s in a bad way, Tommy.” Doctor Prendergast says quietly keeping his voice low, so you don’t hear him through your bedroom door. Mary is in the room with you helping you change into a pair of pyjamas.

“I know that.” Tommy says tersely, before shaking his head. He leans back against the wall, dragging heavily on a cigarette.

“Normally in situations like this, I would suggest she spend some time in a Sanatorium. But with her experience with the hospital and the Asylum,” the doctor doesn’t bother to finish his sentence, lighting his own cigarette.

“What does she need?” Tommy asks.

“Rest. Quiet. Sleep. A break from everything. Less booze, less cocaine, less morphine, less violence, less heartbreak.” The doctor holds his hands up helplessly before continuing “Outside of the war, I’ve never seen anyone who’s been through so much and is still functioning.”

Tommy rubs his fingers around his eyes, before pinching the bridge of his nose. He reaches over and pats the doctor on the shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “Thanks for coming ‘ey. I’ll show you out.” Tommy says pushing himself off the wall.

The doctor pats Tommy on the back. “I know the way.” Placing his hand on his upper arm, he stops “You call if you need anything. Anything at all. Right?”

“Will do.” Tommy replies nodding and patting the doctor’s back as he opens the door to your room.

Mary's leaving as he enters. “Can I get you anything, Mr Shelby?” she asks.

“No Mary. You go to bed.” Tommy says shutting the door.

Tommy drags the armchair over next to the bed. Glancing down at you staring up at the ceiling before he settles himself.  

“You know if I were a horse you’d shoot me.” You say quietly.

“I always hated seeing a horse killed, hated it even more when I had to do it myself.” He replies, smoke from his mouth wafting up through a moonbeam.

You both stay silent for a long time.

“Tommy?” You ask quietly, turning your head slightly to see if he's awake.

“Mm?” His eyebrows raise, but his eyes remain closed.

“I’m sorry about in the car.”

“It’s fine, just forget it.” He replies.

“I just miss it.”

The moonlight catches the slight arch of his eyebrow and the twitch in the corner of his mouth.

“No. I don’t miss that. That’s easy to get.” You sigh closing your eyes. “I miss the closeness, the warmth. Him.” You bring your hand to your face covering your eyes.  

Tommy’s hand glances over your elbow “I know.”

Mary is in the armchair when you wake. “Good morning Miss.” She greets you looking up from her knitting briefly.

“Good morning Mary.” You reply rolling to face her. “What are you making?” You ask.

Mary smiles. “A little jacket and cap for Finn and Daisy’s baby.” She says happily.

“How do you know it’s going to be a girl?” You ask, tapping the beautiful pink blushed yarn.

“Polly says.” Mary replies.

You nod. “Where’s Charlie?” You ask suddenly realising that Mary was again looking after you when she should have been with Charlie.

“With Mr Shelby. Down with the horses.” She replies. Finished her row, she sets her knitting aside “Can I get you some breakfast?” Your stomach turns, and you shake your head. “Just tea then.” Mary says, collecting her things. “Do you want me to bring it up or will you come down?” She asks.

“I’ll come down.” You reply. Mary nods and leaves. Your suitcase is in the corner of the room. That must have been where Tommy went last night you realise. You flex your hand uncomfortably. Your purse is on the bedside, and you open it and pour yourself a dose of morphine. 

Getting up and dressing, opting for pants, a shirt and jacket you look out the window and notice a caravan pulled up outside. Tommy's standing next to it talking to another man. Tommy isn’t wearing a suit you notice. Rather an open-necked shirt, jacket and of course cap. Charlie is sitting on the bench at the front, examining some little treasure he had found. Ready, you tap out a line of snow and head downstairs, meeting Mary at the bottom.

“I’ve put your tea in Mr Shelby’s office, Miss. He’d like to talk to you.” She says.

“Thanks, Mary.” You reply walking the short distance down the hall to Tommy’s office. Entering the room and finding it empty, you forego the tea and pour yourself a whiskey. You lean against Tommy’s desk, after helping yourself to a cigarette, looking at nothing in particular out the window.

“So do you eat at all anymore or are you living on booze, cigarettes, snow and morphine?” Tommy asks.

“I drink tea sometimes.” You say not bothering to turn to face him.

You can hear Tommy behind you, the gentle clinking of the china letting you know he’s making tea. He comes around to you, taking the empty glass from you and replacing it with a cup of tea.

“Thanks.” You say. Tommy leans against the window frame, facing you, lighting a fresh cigarette. He rubs his thumb along his jaw as he watches you. “Something, in particular, you want Tommy.” You say finding his gaze typically uncomfortable.

“The doctor says you need rest. Time away from everything.” He begins.

You stiffen, pushing off the desk, the hairs on your body bristling “I heard you last night. I’m not going to a fucking Sanatorium or fucking convalesce home.” You say quietly.

Tommy holds his hands up to stop you. “No.” He agrees. You relax slightly. “But, I have spoken to some friends, Gypsy’s, travellers, and they have agreed for you to go and spend some time with them.” His eyes roam your face trying to gauge your reaction. “You need to get away from all this.” He says waving his arm indistinctly.

Your eyes close. You feel Tommy step closer, hands holding your upper-arms lightly. “You need to stop this. You need to look after yourself. If you keep going like this, you’re gonna end up dead in a ditch somewhere.” You don’t open your eyes, knowing you couldn’t meet his. “And all of us have had enough loss yeah?” He finishes.

You open your eyes but fix them immediately on a button in the middle of Tommy’s chest. “But I have work, commitments.” You say.

“It’s all sorted. I’ve spoken to Alfie and Selene, they’re worried about you too.”  

You shake your head “I’ll be fine Tommy.”

“You’re not.” Tommy says cutting you off.

“My boyfriend was murdered, and I was kidnapped and,” You stop, the words catching in your throat. Hot tears begin to slide down your cheeks again. You slump back against the desk.  Wiping your hands over your face.

“I know.” Tommy says. “But you don’t have to do everything on your own.”

“How dare you.” You snarl. Tommy steps back. “How fucking dare you use his words against me.” You step towards him, furious.

“What?” Tommy says off-guard.

“That’s low even for you Tommy, using his words against me to get me to do what you want.”

“Anna. What the fuck are you talking about?” Tommy says. “Are you talking about Goliath?”

“Yes.”

“Anna. I never met him. I never said a word to him. How could I possibly know what he said ‘ey?” His voice is quiet and gentle, not meeting your venom with his own.

You pull out Tommy's chair and sink down onto it, resting your head on the desk and covering your head with your arms. They were the exact words. The exact words. You rub the pearl against your palm. Trying to make sense of what was happening.  Maybe Polly was right about spirits and the life-after and predictions and signs. Maybe Goliath was telling you to go. “Alright.” You relent. “I’ll go.”

“Right. Good.” Tommy says.  

Suitcase in hand you stand next to the caravan. “Anna this is Johnny.” Tommy says by way of introduction to the man you had seen him with earlier.

“Lovely to meet you, Anna. Just lovely. I’ll take that for ya shall I?” He says, taking the suitcase from your hand.

“And you, Johnny.” You say quietly, clasping your now empty hands in front of you.

“Charlie!” Tommy calls. Nothing. “Where’s Charlie?” Tommy calls again. You hear a small giggle from inside the caravan. You catch a soft smile on Tommy’s face “Johnny? Do you know where Charlie is?” He says playfully.

“No, I’m sure I don’t Tommy. I’m sure I don’t” Johnny says smiling.

“Oh well, Johnny. Guess we’ll just have to go without him.” Tommy says. He guides you to the back of the caravan “Come on then Anna, in we get.” He says opening the door of the caravan. You climb up inside. “You know it’s a real shame Charlie couldn’t come.” Tommy carries on. “Ah, well. I guess we’ll just have to make ourselves comfortable and get on our way.” He says.

“It’s a shame, I was really looking forward to seeing Charlie.” You say joining in.

“Well, there’s nothing for it. Take a seat there Anna.” Tommy says, lowering himself lightly on top of a very lumpy pillow. The pillow giggles.

“This is a very squirmy pillow.” Tommy says standing and patting it down.

“Must have rats ‘ey, Tommy.” Johnny pipes up. “Shall I get the shovel for ya? So ya can squish ‘em.”

Tommy reaches under the cushion “No Johnny I think I’ve got it. Oh my, it’s a big one.” He says pulling Charlie out by his ankles and holding him upside down. “Watch out Anna. I’d better throw this rat out.”

“I’m not a rat! I’m Charlie!” the little boy cries giggling.

Tommy shakes him playfully “But my Charlie has blonde hair, this one has black hair.” Tommy says referring to Charlie’s black shoes.

“No, Daddy, those are my feet. I’m up-side-down.” Charlie chuckles.

Tommy quickly flicks Charlie around, pulling him into him and kissing his cheeks resulting in another spurt of giggles.

Charlie squirms and Tommy puts him down, patting his head. Before opening up the hatch between the caravan and the front seat. “Charlie, you sit back here with Anna.” He says as he climbs over to the front and picks up the reins. “Come on Johnny!” He calls.

“Right Tommy, right you are.” Johnny says you can hear the door being locked off and Johnny quickly pops up next to Tommy.

Tommy clicks his tongue, and the horse moves off. You sit quickly on the bench next to Charlie, who climbs up into your lap. You rest your hands around his middle holding onto him. You feel Charlie lift your bandaged hand. “You got hurt.” He says.

“It’s nothing Charlie I just fell over and cut it a little bit, it will be better in no time.” You reassure him.

He nods and lifts you hand higher pressing his face against it gently “Mwah.” He says “I kissed it better. It’s all better now.” He says proudly.

“Thank you, Charlie, that was very kind of you.” You say.

“Charlie and I will come with you to Johnny’s camp, or nearly anyway, then we’ll catch the train back home and Johnny and you will meet up with the families tomorrow.” Tommy explains turning slightly.  

You nod. Charlie begins to wriggle and climbs down and Johnny lifts him over the front setting him between himself and Tommy. You sit back, resting your head against the side of the caravan. Johnny and Charlie chat away about the things they can see around them. You feel your eyes flutter closed.

“Anna?” a hand touches your knee.

“Yeah?” you say rolling your neck painfully, you were stiff.

“Charlie and I are going now.” Tommy says.

“Right.” You nod, not knowing what else to say.

“I’ll see you in a week or so.” Tommy reassures you.

“Thanks.” You reply. Charlie climbs into the back to kiss you goodbye his little hands holding your cheeks. “Bye Charlie.” 

You wave as you and Johnny pull away from the station. You pull the bottle of morphine from your pocket, taking two spoonfuls and swallowing them with a shudder. You rest your head back against the side again and allow the gentle rocking and rhythmic sound of the horse's gait to lull you to sleep.

Everything hurts. It’s dark and you feel cramped. You have no idea where you are. Panic rises as you try to remember. You feel your way around you frantically. You’re not bound you realise. You can see a chink of light in front of you, scrambling towards it on your hands and knees you pound against the timber.

“All right, all right. I’m coming.” A man’s voice says, light and cheerful.

You reach for your gun, it and your holster are missing. Going for your concealed knife you find that missing too. Panic again clutching at your chest you feel around you for something to use as a weapon. Your hands find nothing fit for purpose. Scrambling you hurry back away from the door, cowering in the corner.

“All right ‘ere we go then.” The man’s voice says again as the door opens and sunlight blinds you. “Morning Anna.” The man smiles broadly, it’s Johnny you realise. “How ya feeling today?” He asks as he steps backwards clearing the doorway. “Come on now.” He says encouragingly.

“Where are we?” You ask stopping at the top of the steps and looking around you.

“Paradise.” Johnny says happily, holding his arms out wide.

“Would ya like some breakfast while we wait for the others to arrive?” He asks

A faint waft of sausages reaches your nose. You gag and then retch. Johnny quickly helps you down the stairs and you spend the next ten minutes heaving beside the caravan. Johnny lays a kindly hand on your back and hands you a clean hanky when you’re done.

“How ‘bout some tea then love? Seeming as you ain’t feeling the best. Good cuppa will fix you right up.” Johnny offers kindly, seemingly unfazed by your behaviour.

“Thank you.” You manage your voice harsh from the acid in your throat.

“There’s a little creek, just over the hill there.” Johnny points in the direction he means “Go wash your face, it’ll help you feel better.”

It was indeed a little creek, not more than a foot wide. Hidden by the grasses, you nearly step in it. Johnny finds you, sometime later, doubled over with your hands pressed just above your knees as you heave again. He pulls the kerchief free off his neck and dunks it in the cool water of the stream before wringing it out and laying it on the back of your neck. “The Lee’s ‘ll be here today. They have good healers who’ll be able to help ya.” He says reassuringly.

A fresh wave of nausea overtakes you and your skin is beginning to crawl. You pull the morphine bottle from your pocket groaning as you realise its empty “Where are my things?” You ask.

“Your suitcase is in the caravan.” Johnny replies.

“Great.” You reply walking back to the caravan. You quickly climb back inside, opening your suitcase and finding your toiletries bag. You open it and tip it out. You know you had put a bottle of morphine in there before you left London. It’s gone. You start going through your clothes checking you hadn’t put it somewhere else by mistake. You tip the suitcase out and start double checking all the pockets and compartments. Nothing.

“Fucker.” You mumble under your breath.

“You right there love?” Johnny calls out.

“Do you have any morphine? Snow? Mine seems to have gone missing.” You say trying to keep the stress out of your voice.

“Ah, no lass. Have no use for it meself, see.” He replies apologetically.

“Is there somewhere we can get some, some town or something?” You ask.

“No. Just fields and forest from here on. Not even many roads really.” Johnny replies happily.

“Whiskey?”

“Ah, now Tommy said that the doc said ya should avoid it for a while, so there’s no whiskey, or any other hard liquor, in your van or mine.” Johnny says ruefully.

“I don’t suppose you would just drop me off somewhere?” You asked already knowing the answer.

“Ah no. Tommy’d have me balls over the fire in no time.” Johnny cheerily replies.  

By mid-morning you are a sweating, shivering mess. Dry heaving constantly. Your muscles are cramped and sore. Hollowness gnawing at your insides. By noon you are huddled in the back of the caravan, wrapped in as many blankets as Johnny could find, drifting between sleep and delirium.

As the sun sets you are wracked with pain, curled in a ball on the floor of the caravan.

You open your eyes to be greeted by the sight of a stern-faced woman, her hair tied back with a black scarf. Her eyes piercing through you. Same look Tommy has you think. “He should have sent you to us earlier.” She comments, turning her attention elsewhere. Her hand slides under your head, lifting it as she holds a small tumbler to your lips. “Drink it all.” She instructs.

The harsh fluid feels like it’s stripping the lining of your mouth, you splutter but do as the woman instructs. Swallowing the last of it, you wipe your hand over your mouth. “What was that?”

“Medicine.” She says simply setting the tumbler aside. “Sleep now.” She says placing her hand over yours and patting it. Her brow furrows “Who gave you this?” She says tapping on the pearl of your ring.

You shake your head, feeling a lump rising in your throat. The woman’s eyes flutter shut as she touches the pearl again. “Mm, two men. One who intended to give it, and the one who gave it on his behalf.” She says nodding to herself as she turns your good hand over and examines it closely. She mutters to herself for a while “Too much loss for one so young.” She says more to herself than you. 

You look at her blankly, sleep already pulling you away from her.

“Good girl. Just sleep.” She says her hand smoothing your forehead. You sigh remembering it was something your mother would do when you were little. “Just sleep.” The woman repeats.

Your eyes begin to close and the woman begins to sing. A high haunting melody fills the caravan. And you sleep.

* The final line of the poem “In the bleak midwinter” by Christina Rossetti 

As always I look forward to your thoughts, comments, questions and suggestions.

Chapter Twenty-one: Out Of The Woods > > >

More chapters of George are available on the George Masterlist

Interested in my other work? Find them on my MASTERLIST

[lacertae-dreamscape]

The Sentai and the Cultist [16/?]

IMPORTANT NOTICE: im taking next week off to write ahead one chapter since i have been unable to keep up this past month due to stuff. just next week then i’m back w weekly updates, i hope you don’t mind... and thank you for ur continued support!!

Feel free to comment or reblog n tag so I know if you like this :D please?

00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 (tumblr)

This fic (on AO3)

Pairing: Genji/Zenyatta

Rating: mature for overall fighting scenes n stuff just to be on the safe side

Summary: The Sentai have discovered there is more to the Cultist than meets the eye, and have thus gained an ally, but things are still far from being solved. It is only the start…

The Sentai and the Cultist

Chapter 16

Though there had been many hotels that had tried to get Tekhartha Mondatta of the Shambali to check in with them, the one the sentai rangers had picked for him was a simpler one.

It was still a high-end hotel, because despite Mondatta’s reassurances on the subject, they still considered him an important guest, but it was not the most luscious one the city had to offer, which was still good enough to appease the sentai and also the city council, but not too extravagant.

The exact choice had been kept a secret from the public to avoid crowd disturbance, but the security had been tightened around the area anyway, just in case.

Mondatta had been offered a suit on one of the top floors for himself and his two companions, and for once he had not protested; Genji knew it was because the suites were on a different floor from the other rooms, and that allowed Mondatta a degree of privacy he would not get otherwise, which meant he would be able to meet with Zenyatta without too much fuss, and as the suites had their own balconies, the sentai rangers would be able to come and go from there rather than using the front door of the hotel.

Moira did not seem to want to stick around after the first round of formalities, more at ease in a laboratory than as company to a renowned public figure, and to be fair, it was a relief for Genji –her presence made it harder for the sentai to talk with Mondatta freely– but at the same time, her leaving Mondatta’s side meant she would return to the base, forcing Zenyatta back to his room and into hiding.

Genji was also worried about the kind of pressure Moira was putting on Winston in order to get her hands on Zenyatta’s mala, and while it would be alright for her to analyse it while she was still at the sentai base, if she found it too interesting she would want to take it back with her.

It was tempting to stay at Mondatta’s side, but Genji wanted to also go back to the base and see Zenyatta, and his hesitation was so visible Lucio exhaled loudly and pushed him towards the balcony door, shaking his head.

“You go, man,” Lucio’s voice was amused as he patted him on the shoulder. “Remember, you’re the one who can… manage… well, you’re not needed here, alright? Master Mondatta is going to be okay, we’re just going to settle down and check his schedule for the speeches and set up everything.”

That did the trick –it was weirdly easy for Genji to forget he was the only one among the sentai rangers who could interact with Zenyatta for more than a couple minutes.

Trying to hide his glee, he nodded. “Moira, do you need…”

“No, it will be alright. I will take the normal route out of the hotel, and meet you back at the base on my own time. I have a few things to discuss with the hotel owners about security measures, and then I have to call back home to check how my team is doing, not to mention discuss with the city council about the speech. Please precede me.”

Feeling incredibly relieved to know he would not have to accompany Moira back to the base, sparing himself a very uncomfortable, awkward trip, Genji bowed to Mondatta.

“Once I make sure my patrol round is complete and the city is alright, I will be back and we will review the schedule to make sure everything is alright. Again, allow me to say your presence here makes us happy.”

Mondatta turned his face plate towards him, regarding him for a second, and then his forehead array flickered into a deeper shade of teal. “Likewise, your presence truly reassures me, sentai rangers.”

Mondatta and his two companions walked him to the balcony and watched as Genji jumped out of it, and if Genji took his sweet time and made his landing a little bit more acrobatic than normal, just to show off his abilities a bit in front of Zenyatta’s brother… well. No one would know.

With Mondatta’s arrival the sentai would have to work a little harder, but none of them minded, as things were definitely looking up; it was not just because a meeting between the two brothers would make Zenyatta happy, though Genji had no problem admitting it was his main reason for doing this –it was also because as a high-profile personality, Mondatta brought with him a degree of publicity that would help the sentai force in the long run. Genji had heard Winston complain enough about how Moira’s squad was always a step ahead, and they would need this boost to keep the funding coming.

Genji was not stupid.

He was a hero, and he did his job because it made him happy, and because people were protected, and he liked feeling useful, feeling like he mattered, but Moira’s troops had a less casual approach, and considering they preferred to work in the shadows, most of the time their results were swifter. Winston had opted for a visually appealing look because he considered the morale boost of having visible heroes part of the job, and being popular would also help.

People felt reassured by a force that protected them where they could see them in action, and it made them feel like someone was doing something for them –and it made them wish to reach out and ask for help when needed, while at the same time recognizing they were on the job and refrain from hindering their patrols unless the sentai themselves were alright with approaching the public.

Moira’s group had simply a different work ethic, but that did not mean both could not exist at the same time. Their results hinged on secrecy, on having the citizens none the wiser about what went on behind the scenes.

There was nothing wrong with either way, though Genji knew he preferred the sentai force, and he knew the other sentai agreed with him –and Moira’s attitude did not help, not really.

Still, Genji had joined when the monsters had started to appear, but he knew that even if the monsters were finally defeated or sealed back to their own world, the sentai rangers would still continue to exist. Winston had been clear on that point –there was more to the rangers than just fighting monsters who were real monsters. There were still thieves, and humans and omnics with special powers that were used for evil, and as long as those existed, he would do his best so that the sentai would continue to exist, as well.

Which meant they did need the funding and popularity boost, either way.

It was a two-way street, and Genji understood that perfectly.

Feeling good for being recognised on the street for his work was just an extra boon for Genji, though it did help, and well…

People like Zenyatta were also why Genji felt a drive to do his best –people who relied on the sentai, who needed to feel safe, who deserved to be protected and helped out.

“Athena, I’m back.” Genji landed on one of the platforms on the higher floors of the base, and the polished, reflective surface of the wall in front of him parted to reveal a secret door, allowing him in.

“Welcome back, Genji,” Athena’s voice filtered to him from one of the speakers near the wall. “Hana called to let us know Moira would not return with you.”

“Yeah, so I got here faster since I did not have to match her speed.” Genji moved down the hallway, looking around. “Where’s –” he hesitated.

“Don’t worry Genji, Moira’s companions are both absent. They have left earlier this morning.”

That was an even greater relief. “So where’s Zenyatta?”

“Considering we were not expecting any of you back, with Moira and her croons out of the base–” Athena ignored Genji’s snort “–Winston thought it would be the perfect opportunity to run a few diagnostics on Zenyatta.”

“Ah, so they’re in the lab?”

“Maybe you should not join them, Genji.” Athena sounded hesitant.

“I might not get what Winston is doing, but I want to know what’s happening anyway.”

Athena hummed at that, but Genji could not understand her reticence until he arrived to the lab, pushing the door open.

Zenyatta was inside what looked like a glass container, cables splitting from the back of his neck and connected with one of Athena’s panels on the nearby wall. He looked unconscious, slumped on his side with his forehead array offline, the usual green glow underneath his tentacles and on his chest absent.

He was also missing an arm.

Genji felt a knot of panic bubble up from the depths of his chest, shock making him go completely still, and he could only manage a soft, strangled sound, one hand clenched so tightly on the edge of the doorframe his knuckles turned white.

“Ah, Genji! Welcome back!” Winston appeared from behind one of his huge computers, and Genji’s head snapped to him, only for his eyes to grow wide when he saw what Winston was holding in one of his big hands.

Zenyatta’s detached arm.

Genji fumbled backwards, white as a sheet, and bumped against the doorframe. The contact startled him enough that it pushed him into the room, stumbling towards the glass panel enclosing Zenyatta, eyes darting from his unconscious frame to Winston, who had the decency to look sheepish.

“Oh, uh. This. You see, ah… with Moira and her, uh, her companions away from the base, uh, Zenyatta thought it would be the right moment to–”

“You cut off his arm!” Genji found his voice again, though it sounded too strangled and high to be his own.

“–start some tests and no, Genji, I did not cut off his arm and…”Winston looked down at the arm he was holding, then back up at Genji. “Alright, I can understand this looks rather bad, but this was removed from Zenyatta’s shoulder painlessly and with careful, uh, I mean, we’ll put it back afterwards but I needed to test–”

“What your friend is trying to say, is that I have willingly allowed him to remove one of my arms to test a theory.” Zenyatta’s voice came through Athena’s speakers, and Genji’s head spun around to look at Zenyatta, finding him looking exactly like before, unresponsive and motionless.

“Zenyatta! Are you alright? This– this isn’t what you should do, you don’t have to let… Winston, I thought you would be less… less–” Genji scrambled towards the glass panel, placing one hand against it.

Zenyatta, abandoned like that, lifeless, almost d–

Genji felt a cold grip around his heart, and clenched his jaw, refusing to complete the thought.

With a soft, familiar ding, one of Zenyatta’s orbs floated towards him, surrounded in warm, golden light. It wrapped around Genji like an embrace, soothing him. Genji felt his heart slow down and realised he’d been breathing hard through his clenched teeth, fighting off a panic attack, one he had not even noticed he was experiencing.

He curled the hand against the glass pane into a fist to hide the way it was trembling.

Zenyatta spoke again, softer. “This is entirely painless, I assure you. Winston did not suggest this either –I did. I promise you, Genji, I am unhurt and this looks… worse than it is.”

“Oh, you can still control your orbs like this?” Winston’s tone shifted back to intense curiosity, ambling away from Genji and back towards the computer screen. “There’s no noticeable difference in the stats and the graph registers an increased brain-input activity, but not by much…”

“My conscience  uploaded to Athena’s mainframe has the same connection to my mala that I have while residing in my body, yes,” Zenyatta agreed. He sounded amused. “True self is without form. Is it not that whatever is me exists, regardless of its shape? I am still myself, whether the appearance I take is that of a monster, or my AI is uploaded elsewhere. As long as I remain myself, my abilities are unchanged.”

“That is, uh. Very deep, yes,” Winston fumbled with the arm he was still holding, busy checking over something on the screen of his computer, and Genji was left behind, feeling helplessly lost and distantly hurt by the sight of Zenyatta’s motionless body. “But it also means that your peripheral control of the nanomachines that are part of your body… your actual body… still maintains a connection with, uh. Your true self?”

Zenyatta’s giggle echoed in the air, weirdly amplified and coming from more than one place, and Genji felt unsettled and elated at the same time at hearing it.

“You sound alright,” he muttered, wanting to address Zenyatta somehow but not wishing to look at his body. He looked eerie. Not alive.

“I am, Genji. I am deeply sorry for the unease the sight of my body has caused you, as it was not my intention. With your associate, Miss Moira, not present at the base, and the delicate situation with the extra nanites in my body, I thought it prudent to use this chance to run a few tests.”

“So when. Uh… when will you… return to…” Genji made a small, aborted motion towards Zenyatta’s body, still not looking at it.

“In a few minutes now, Genji. Please do not trouble yourself.”

“No, I’m–” Genji shook his head, brushing his fingers through his hair. It was silly to be uncomfortable by seeing Zenyatta like this, if Zenyatta himself said he was okay with it. “Forgive me.”

Again, Zenyatta’s laugh echoed in the air around him, and in response to that, the golden light of the orb seemed to intensify, just for a second.

“There is nothing to forgive. I am glad you have my comfort and safety in mind.”

Embarrassed and flustered, Genji looked over to Winston, feeling somewhat better when he realised he had yet to look up from his screen, giving them just a little bit of privacy and the illusion that he was not listening in, even if it was inevitable. “So uh. Winston… what is the meaning of…”

“Oh! The arm, yes.” Winston turned around, still uncomfortable, but a little less sheepish now that Genji seemed alright. “We are monitoring the signal between Zenyatta and, well, the nanomachines that are now part of his body. The added ones are, uh. Mixed with the rest in a way that makes them undistinguishable, but we will attempt to force a reaction in a suitably safe and controlled environment –though I fear we might have to try doing this at a later date, as Moira will come back soon and I think this is enough experimenting for today.”

Zenyatta made a soft, displeased noise.

“But!” and Winston seemed to get more animated, waving Zenyatta’s arm a little as he spoke, “We have discovered that the, hmmm, monster DNA that was added to Zenyatta’s body through the nanomachines has limitations.” Genji blinked, looking down at the arm, and understood. “Yes, exactly. This arm is… unchanged, as you see. Purple colour, dangling chain from the wrist… nothing different from the rest of your friend here, and yet… no bad feeling, nothing. Where does it end? What part of a mutated monster will instil fear in another person? Ah–” Winston caught himself, pushing his glasses back up his face “–that does not mean we are going to dissect your… yeah, no. But we needed to test the reach of the monster DNA imbued in the nanites. His orbs, ah, do not carry that, but they do have nanites in them, which is curious. It is perhaps because they are connected to Zenyatta, and yet are not part of what… makes him… him.”

Genji rubbed his temples. “And you had to… remove his arm for that?”

“Well, not necessarily but it was… uh. Quick?”

As he said that, Winston moved towards the case that contained Zenyatta. “There was another degree of the test, and that is. Well, connecting his consciousness to another AI mainframe, as you can see. Zenyatta is partly organic now, so we needed to test how much of him was still, well, omnic? And this is how we realised that if his conscious is not fully in his body, the nanomachines while still active, do not seem to irradiate that kind of… immediate negative aura that is specific to monsters. It is… well, not connected simply to the nanomachines, but to Zenyatta’s consciousness. To his AI core, that is.”

Genji blinked. “Wait, so you cut his arm while he was still con–”

“Genji, please.” Winston rubbed his face with one big hand, and Genji snorted. “Now I just have to…”

He pressed a small panel Genji had not seen on the side of the protective panel, which slid open, and Winston gently placed the arm inside before sealing the space between them and Zenyatta. “You can, uh. Return to your body now.”

“… that is alright.” Genji frowned, detecting the slightest hesitation, but then he watched as the screen with Athena’s symbol flicker, something passing by it in a flash, and then Zenyatta’s forehead array powered up.

His core started to glow, rhythmically, and then Zenyatta straightened up, instantly looking… alive, though he was still missing one arm. “My thanks,” he turned to look at Winston, who nodded. “We have already established that the degree of separation between myself and another person will not bear any ill feelings as long as there is a double-sided glass such as this one,” he told Genji, even as he casually shifted to pick up his discarded arm. “As you probably noticed already.”

Genji was barely listening.

He observed as Zenyatta gingerly placed the detached arm to his empty shoulder socket, and instead of reattaching it through some complex cable setup, the nanomachines simply swarmed to the spot, rebuilding the missing connections between the arm and the rest of his body.

Afterwards, Zenyatta clenched and unclenched his fingers before looking up to Genji. “… you did not listen, did you?”

“Ah–”

Zenyatta chuckled, the sound fond, and Genji felt his cheeks redden just a little bit. Yes, this was better than through Athena’s speakers, definitely. “I am sorry the sight of my missing arm troubled you so much. I promise, I will not consent to any more… disassembling, even if it does not hurt.”

“… thank you.” The heartfelt answer seemed to take both Zenyatta and Winston aback, and Winston cleared his throat.

“Yes, I am… not going to do that anymore. I think you can leave now, Zenyatta. It would be better not to be here when Moira comes back, and I will need to encrypt the tests and results and all the data I collected while you were connected to Athena, so that if Moira attempts to check on our database, she will not find them.”

“Thank you for this,” Zenyatta nodded at him, the glass panel sliding open so he could slip out, and Winston scratched the back of his neck, feeling the creeping awareness of Zenyatta’s monstrous side already building inside his chest, fighting against it.

“No, I… I’m the one who is, ah. Thankful, that is. We never had the proper chance to analyse how monsters work, and while you are definitely not one–” and Winston’s tone seemed to harden at that, as if daring anyone to contradict him “–you share some degree of closeness to them that will be immensely useful in order to understand this situation. I am grateful for your collaboration. We… not just the sentai force, but the entirety of our organization… we are going to make sure to use this data to solve the monster problem, once and for all.”

Genji remained quiet as they walked out of the lab room, despite Zenyatta glancing over at him as they moved to Zenyatta’s room, but he did stop in front of the door, hesitating.

He knew it was not his place to question Zenyatta, but he felt the need to reach out to him, make sure he was not hurt, that he was…

“Were you truly alright?”

Zenyatta paused, one hand hovering on the door handle. “I was,” he replied, but there was, once again, the smallest hesitation in his tone, and Genji bit down on his lower lip. “I have given my permission to the sentai force to do whatever test they think necessary in order to understand what is going on, Genji. I will not revoke that permission.”

“But it was not–” Genji ruffled his own hair, not knowing how to work what he felt. “You were not in your body anymore. Was it really alright?”

This time, the pause was longer, but it made Genji reassured, because it meant Zenyatta was actually considering the question.

“… it was…” again, a pause, a long one. Genji pointedly kept his gaze away from Zenyatta, afraid that any attention turned his way would make him clam up. “I did not quite enjoy loading my AI somewhere else. That body is… mine. The consciousness that exists within it is Tekhartha Zenyatta, but I am not yet at a point in my studies where I truly feel comfortable with being an existence transcending my own limited corporeal status, Genji. It was not… uncomfortable, but I would rather prefer not to do it anymore, unless I have to.”

Genji’s shoulders slumped in relief, appreciating Zenyatta’s trust. “I will make sure it’s not needed, Zenyatta. I am sorry.”

“It was still my own decision.”

Genji blinked, noticing Zenyatta was still unmoving. “If there was something else that made you uncomfortable, you can tell me. I will do my best to make sure it does not happen again.”

Zenyatta shook his head, and turned to look at him. There was no expression on his face, but Genji was almost certain he could tell, even without that, that Zenyatta was sad.

“While I was loaded together with Athena…” Zenyatta paused. “Winston did not feel any kind of aversion towards me. At all. For how unpleasant it felt to be disconnected from my body, I…” Genji’s heart ached as Zenyatta’s voice wavered, just a bit, “… it felt nice to be able to have a conversation with someone without them shrinking in fear.”

“… ah.” Genji found his voice coming out more like a croak, his mouth dry.

For a second, they remained standing there without talking, then Zenyatta seemed to straighten up, the lights on his forehead array burning brightly again. “Forgive me for the direction my thoughts chose to follow. I hope I have not soured your day. But I would like to know, now… how… how is my brother?”

Genji did not hesitate in telling him –anything, if he could keep Zenyatta happy, even if only for a moment.

***

“I am a bit… uncomfortable.”

Lucio turned around to look at Genji. They were both in their sentai attires, flanking Mondatta on both sides, so he could not see Genji’s face but by the tone of his voice, he could infer on what kind of expression he had.

“What for? Thought you liked stuff like this.”

“I mean…” Genji hesitated, and tilted his head to peek out of the door, catching sight of the people waiting outside. He winced. “Yeah but you know. This is a bit different.”

Lucio made an understanding noise. “Got you, friend. No need to get sudden stage fright though. You’re not the one who has to speak.”

The soft, undignified snort coming from Mondatta, a few steps ahead of them, made both Lucio and Genji freeze. “That is the truth, Green sentai,” he said, looking ahead. He appeared completely at ease. “You will simply need to stay by my side, no lengthy speeches required.”

Genji hitched his shoulders up a little bit, cheeks reddening in embarrassment under his helmet, and it was apparently obvious enough that Mondatta chuckled, his synth crackling in amusement. “Master Mondatta–”

“Forgive me for poking fun, but you remind me a lot of someone who was just as uncomfortable during public speeches.” Mondatta sighed, never turning to look at either sentai as he spoke. “There is no fault in wishing to avoid such things, and I am sorry if my presence here requires you to follow me in front of so many people and stand there.”

“No!” Genji took a step forwards, breaking protocol to reach Mondatta’s side, and the Shambali leader turned his head to look at him. “What you do, and having me there with you. That is not embarrassing, or uncomfortable. It’s…” Genji hesitated.

It would be one thing to whine with his fellow sentai, since they would understand, but Mondatta was not… this would be uncouth, and it was not his fault either, so Genji bit down on what he wanted to say and looked down, tense and unhappy.

Mondatta sighed. “Green sentai, I am perfectly aware of the true reason you are uncomfortable, and I know you do not wish to speak of it.” At Genji’s small, wondering noise, he chuckled, though the sound had not much amusement to it. “We both know your presence here is for mere appearances’ sake.”

This did catch both Genji and Lucio’s full attention, and Mondatta shook his head. “Do you think me blind to the way politicians work? I have to interact with them every day of my life due to my position as the Shambali leader.”

And that was the truth, Genji realised.

Mondatta would understand it far too well –that the sentai rangers being present and placed in full view of the newspapers and the cameras was a political move. They would not be able to do their jobs efficiently if they were told to look like little statues for the sake of a publicity stunt, and that was what stung Genji the most.

They had to be patrolling the area to make sure everybody would be protected, not… stand around like this.

The deep hum coming from Mondatta’s synth caught Genji’s attention again, making him straighten up. “I appreciate what you are doing. I am perfectly aware of what this city council looks for, and why you are by my side, rather than dispatched like the police and undercover guards we have met earlier. My presence here is a perfect opportunity for your council to show the validity of a hero group sponsored and paid for if something attacks. If nothing does, it is still good for them to be seen doing their best to protect me. I am aware of what my name means, Green sentai. I worked for it to be important enough that my message is recognized, even when it only brings discomfort to those with hatred in their hearts. The reason I exist is enough to show that omnics and humans still do not live on equal grounds, but protesting this would be taking a side that is not… popular. I can use that as well, and while I came here for my own selfish purposes… that does not mean this speech will be void of meaning. I do thank you for accepting to be here regardless of what this means for you.”

Genji slumped a bit, shaking his head. “it is not selfish to wish to reunite with your family,” he murmured, tone low but heartfelt. “And even if it was, you’re allowed to want that. Your work, your actions… nothing you do is ever selfish. You deserve to have something as well, and even then… you are not faking this speech, or brushing it off. And neither are we. We are here to do our job, even if it means we’ll have to stand there and look good –we’re still heroes, we still protect the city. If this stunt will let us continue to do so, then so be it. It’s worth it.”

Lucio moved forwards, patting Genji’s back. “And you’re not the only one thinkin’ like that, buddy. We have your back.” He offered Mondatta a thumbs up, casual and carefree, and Mondatta’s forehead array flickered in a smile. “And afterwards, we get to do yet another good thing for you, Master Mondatta. I don’t count any of this as a loss. We’re doing great.”

It had been hard for Genji to understand why he could not just lead Zenyatta to Mondatta right away, the moment Mondatta settled down at the hotel, and instead had to wait, but he’d accepted it, in the end –and seeing Zenyatta being eager but also calm, not rushing despite knowing his brother was in the same city especially to see him, helped curb his desire to rush things through.

He understood, rationally, why they had to wait; there was far too much attention on Mondatta now, knowing he’d just arrived in the city, and despite hiding from the public the name of the hotel, somehow the information had leaked so many were now picketing outside of the hotel, or tried to catch a glimpse of him in the hotel corridors.

If Zenyatta tried to approach him now that so many had yet to see Mondatta, even with his masking abilities, people would see him… it was too risky.

Waiting after his speech, justifying Mondatta’s absence for the next day or two after that with wanting to rest, forcing people to leave the premises of the hotel after having seen Mondatta give his speech in public… they would have better chance to play it safe.

Genji also understood that the speech, regardless of everything involved, was important –and that it happened now, after years since the last time Mondatta had left the monastery because of the monsters attacking, was even more important. Genji understood all of this, and the conjunction of Mondatta’s desire to meet his brother and feeling safe enough to travel, knowing someone trusted was going to help them… Genji was even more determined to do his job, so that next, Mondatta and Zenyatta could finally be able to meet.

Zenyatta was outside, masked and hidden on a balcony facing the square, far enough from the crowd that no one would feel his presence –he had wanted to be there, to catch a glimpse of his brother even from afar. Jesse and Hana were both in the crowd, one in his casual clothes and one in her sentai outfit with Vrishika and Yutta. Even Winston was there, monitoring everything from a room the council had prepared for him in the building in front of the square where the stage had been built.

Mondatta was waiting in the lobby of the same building with Genji and Lucio at his sides, peeking out towards the stage outside, waiting for the guards to signal it was time to go out.

Everything was ready, and still Genji felt tension spike within him.

“Master Mondatta,” a voice called out from the entrance of the building. One of the guards sent by the city council looked at them from outside, looking almost cowed. “It is time.”

Mondatta straightened his back, hands folding behind his back. “Thank you. I am ready.”

He walked out of the entrance of the building with a slow, even pace, hands locked behind himself, looking just as regal as he had been at the airport. Genji and Lucio exchanged a glance before following suit, senses sharp and stretched out for any possible danger, and flanked him as he walked across the street –the traffic had been stopped in the earlier morning specifically for this– and towards the open area where the stage had been equipped for Mondatta’s speech.

As they walked by, Genji kept glancing around, seeking out in the crows the familiar faces of Jesse and Hana, and much to his surprise, he noticed both Fareeha and Angela standing there as well in the middle of the crowd, and he was sure, though not completely so, that he’d also caught a glimpse of Lena; he could not see how tired Angela was, not from this distance, but Fareeha’s arm was around her shoulder, and they both followed Mondatta with their eyes as he walked towards the stage.

He had no idea if they were there to offer their aid in case something happened or if they’d just decided to come to Mondatta’s speech as supporters, but it still made Genji happy to see them both there nonetheless.

“Everything alright for now, Green sentai,” Winston’s voice echoed in Genji’s ear, his comm crackling slightly. “The perimeter is monitored and secure. Ahead, Moira is standing next to the councilman, and I just heard from Pink sentai. Proceed as agreed.”

The walk to the stage was short, but Genji remained vigil even then. The amount of people surrounding him, all those omnics and humans waiting for Mondatta to speak… all of them were here hoping for a better future. He just had to make sure they were all protected, as well.

There were cameras blinking, flashes bursting from across the crowd, and national television recording this event, and Genji straightened his back.

Mondatta advanced to the stage with practiced ease, and Genji wondered if he ever felt uncomfortable. He wondered if he could ask Zenyatta, and if Zenyatta would even answer, if it was something that someone like Genji could ever deserve to know. Mondatta had already treated him with more liberty than Genji, even as a sentai, deserved, a confidence he felt he did not deserve despite what he was doing for Mondatta’s brother.

It still made him feel good, like there was a connection there, and of course there was –it was Zenyatta.

Genji wanted to be his friend, wanted to be by his side for as long as he could, make him feel welcomed, safe, watch him be happy, and in this he knew he was only second to Mondatta himself.

Feeling his dragon rouse from deep within himself, Genji strengthened his resolve and followed Mondatta on the stage, stopping a few feet behind him as Mondatta moved to the front, unclasping his hands to lifted them above his head in a greeting to all those standing around him.

“To all of you who came here, and to all the ones who could not be here but are watching, I am grateful. We are all one within the Iris,” Mondatta said, his voice echoing in the abrupt silence that had enveloped the crowd when he’d climbed on the stage.

[allenmendezsr]

Spot Winners

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* 40 2 spaces left as of Sunday, February 23, 2020 11:43 AM

I sincerely hope to see you on the other side.

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* 40 2 spaces left as of Sunday, February 23, 2020 11:43 AM

[raindrenchedstories]

After the sad

Remember that REALLY sad story? Ye....Here’s a continuation!

Cleaning out Richters old cage was just as hard as losing him. It was a part of him, in a way. And now his things were being packed up, and placed in a little box, left in the closet. Bear had to take a few cry breaks here and there.

Even though Archibald offered to help, Bear had told him it was just too hard to watch someone else do it. He was brushing off one of the pillows to be cleaned when something small and white fell out. A tiny letter.

Bear lifted this, running a hand over it. He took it to the story table and set it under the reading spell.  An image flickered up, that made Bear tear up. Richter sat in front of it smiling. A younger version of himself. The way Bear remembered him. Bright and cheerful. He shifted a few times, and spoke.

“Dear Bear. I feel like my time is coming soon. I’ve been more weary these days. It’s a struggle to even get out of bed some mornings.” The image grew older. As the realization that Richter wrote this only a short while ago dawned on Bear. “I’m not going to say ‘don’t cry’. In my opinion that’s the most selfish thing anyone can tell a loved one. Cry as much as you need to. But keep in mind. I was always happy in your care.”

The elderly Richter folded his hands smiling. “I think that’s why I kept going for so long. Because before meeting you, I didn’t have such a great life. It’s nice to have a reason to smile everyday. I’ve always tried to be the happiest thing in your life because of that. But I’m old, Bear. And I’m willing to bet bet that by the time you read this. I’ll be gone. OR you’re just cleanin’ the cage. And this fell out.” The image laughed.

“This... Kind of brings me to my... will of sorts. I haven’t anything to offer. To pass on to a loved one. If Neil’s still kickin’ around. Tell him he’s an asshole. But he was always a dear friend.” The old face just grinned madly.

“But before I get too sidetracked. Lord knows I will. Getting so old these days.” He seamed to drift off. “When you’re done grieving. When you feel ready. Take someone else in. I don’t want you to be alone. If you have it in you. Take someone who’s had the hardest time in life. The person no one wants. Take the one who looks like he had it the hardest. Because that’s what you did for me.” He smiled.

“I won’t hold it against you though. If you can’t. But... Don’t be alone. Okay?”

Bear just dropped to his knees. Eyes welling up a bit. “Oh! There’s a second letter around there too. That’s for whoever you take home. You can have Neil read it, if you like. But please, keep it around.”

Bear smiled. Laughing bitterly. “Did you EVER think about yourself?” Bear found the other letter, and stuffed it in his pocket. 

He visited Archibald a few days after, and let him see the letter. Spotting Neil with the grandchildren. Unlike Richter. Neil had chosen to take on a mate. And have a family. Which also had a family. It got to the point  where Archibald had tunnels running along his walls for a tiny community he was apparently raising.

Neil gave the giant a kindly smile. Presenting the new grandbaby for inspection by the giant. “I... I hope you don’t mind.” The mother squeaked in. “We named him after... HIM.” Everyone shuffled awkwardly.

Oddly, the baby kind of resembled Richter now. Bear just smiled. “That’s fine. He was your pa’s best friend after all. Hope you don’t mind if I call ‘im little R though.”

“Oh! Oh yes. That’s fine.” The baby was passed back. “Speaking of Richter... Er. Big R. He left you a message Neil.

“I’m an asshole?”

“You’re an asshole.”

Archibald chimed in with a; “Tell us something we DON’T know.” The three shared a laugh. Archibald leaned in with a little sigh.

“So... What are you here for?” He passed Bear a fresh cup of tea smiling.

“I’m carrying out his will.” Everyone froze a moment. The woman giving a little cough.

“Are you sure it isn’t too soon?”

“If I live alone much longer, it’ll be too late. I miss him. Gods do I miss him. But he wanted this so... So I’m heading down to the shelter. Would you like to come along Arch?”

Archibald slung back his tea at an alarming rate. “Sure. Let me get my coat.”

The shelter was rather empty. Not many humans returned after being adopted. Not many needed to. The happy house shelter screened the owners heavily enough that both Bear and Archibald had the moral equivalent of a criminal records check. As well as a few actual criminal record checks. Oh, and a few doctors checks as well.

It was worth it. Once you passed those, you were in the system, and could adopt at any time. They checked in, and were led to the back.

One or two men and woman had been shy. But to Bears knowledge, that was normal. And many of them were social enough to talk with him. One woman even excitedly yapped at him for perhaps an hour. In reality it was only a few minutes. But it felt like an hour. “I’m sorry sweetie. You’re a bright girl, very sweet. But Well...”

He shuffled, heart breaking at the crestfallen look in her eyes. “My last pet left me instructions in his will. I’m sorry hun. Otherwise I’d take you home in a heartbeat.”

She perked up a little, smiling sadly. “Oh. What where the instructions? Maybe I can help.” 

“Thank you. He told me to find the one who looks like he or she needs the home. Like they’ve never had a happy day in their lives.” Bear looked around, trying to spot anyone matching the description. The girl motioned for him to come closer.

“Otis. The one in 3B. There’s no way he’ll get a loving home otherwise. He’s... Not great with giants. Or anyone really.” She spoke softly. Bear smiled a moment.

“Thank you.”

Approaching Otis was an ordeal in and out of it’s self. Both men went wide eyed with the colorful language he used. Apparently worse then Neil. Threatening plausible things even.

That said, Otis kept ducking further and further back. Flattening himself against the wall. Bear heaved a sigh. Then nodded. “Yep. Him.”

Otis’ voice raised in pitch. “NO! NO NOT HIM! JUST LEAVE ME BE!” He attempted to duck into the privacy of the ‘restroom’. Bear just shook his head. Watching as the man smashed his face against the door.

He spoke with the lady at the counter. And waited out front. There was a series of screams, loud enough to get through even giant walls. Both men leaned back. Archibald leaning closer to Bear. “Are... Are you sure about this?”

“It was Richters last wish. I don’t care if Otis hates me all his life. I only care that he’s in a good place.” The box was shoved into Bear. The lady behind the counter, shaken up and bedraggled.

Her hand badly scratched, bit, and bruised. “I wish you luck sir. You’re a damned saint for even attempting.” She growled. Otis could still be heard inside the oddly reinforced box. Pulling what cardboard there was away.

“What’s this guy’s history anyhow?” Archibald eyed the screaming bundle.

“Simply put. He was used in an illegal fighting ring. When he wasn’t fighting he was... well. Let’s just say he doesn’t trust giants OR humans. Or anything else for that matter.” The woman blinked at the box.

Letting humans duke it out was actually legal. A pet could uphold their masters honor when it came to dealing with smaller people. But the fights were NEVER deadly. Never allowed to wound or cripple. Never for the sheer sake of blood sport. The worst you could leave was a bruise.

Illegal fighting rings would pit humans and other pet beings against each other to the death. If not one another, then an animal like a Chimera or manticore. People who survived long enough, were bred and retired. Which meant even humans owned by the same person, would turn on one another, just to survive.

“Right. He’s perfect then.”

“NO I’M NOT!”