#it's not a transaction it's an effort put by everyone to make the life better for others and themselves

[cigarette-room]

attachment styles of tiktok have started going into their pathetics once again

"anxious attachment can only be happy when they're loved by you :(" learn to not depend on others for slimmers of happiness dumbass

"avoidant ppl are human too :(" cool and they should stay away from me

[imtrashraccoon]

Consider this... The Nightmare of Apathy but Dreamswap

I'm kinda experiencing brainrot over Helios and Eos at the moment...

Dream is the one who rules over a world that is permanently day where everyone is happy and adores him. I imagine there would be sun worship but it's morphed into worshipping the deity that literally glows and makes everyone's life better.

Plant life flourishes and the climate is always comfortably warm. I don't think animal life would be much different with permanent sunlight but I'm not going to be putting thought into this right now lol.

Somehow, MC (probably named something vaguely related to the sun to have a nice parallel) meets Dream. Not sure how or why but it would either be transactional or a coincidence. Or maybe they have a "dark opposite" soul and Dream wants to "fix" them.

Dream and Nightmare still quarrel over the multiverse, although Dream has more influence thanks to time and positivity being easier to spread. Nightmare is gaining ground though which is rather concerning to Dream.

Nightmare forms his own team, not sure if it'd be the usual rabble or others. Without spoiling possible future plot points for TNA, there is a conflict between the brothers that leads Dream to forming his team. Again, possibly the usual rabble but it could be interesting if he "converts" bad guys to his cause.

I could go on but I will end up spoiling the finale to my fic... ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ

Or maybe it's like how Swapfell and Fellswap are similar but different? (Swapdream?)

Same premise as above, but Aylin is on Nightmare's side the whole time. ("Dark opposite" soul again?) I think this would be more like a desperate rebellion against a vast empire, except the rebels are technically the bad guys. So lots of angst and action scenes where they barely get out alive?

Aylin would meet Nightmare on more normal terms. He isn't a domineering lord but a pathetic outcast, hated by everyone because he only brings negativity when he's around. Or maybe his world is the one place his brother can't "taint" and while he's not loved by the populace, they understand all would be lost if he wasn't trying to maintain the balance. Maybe the economy is hyper focused on production for war efforts?

They'd get into a relationship much more quickly, especially after saving each other's lives a couple of times. Nightmare teaches her to fight, use magic, and possibly other skills he learned too. In turn, she teaches him what she knows as a herbalist and creates many valuable tonics and potions for conflict.

They pick up friends along the desperate, uphill, in the rain battle that is trying to re-establish emotional balance in the multiverse. Could be the usual rabble, although they'd probably have to rescue them from Dream's clutches first. Not sure if the boys would be more or less insane, especially if Dream was forcing them to be positive through magic.

The duo aren't loved by the majority of the multiverse and would likely run into many powerful players. Or maybe Dream hires bounty hunters to go after them. (Fresh might make sense here as he isn't a good guy and probably wouldn't appreciate Dream.)

The potential for a "happy" ending is very low and something drastic would have to occur for that to even happen. I would explain what but again, I'd literally spoil everything for TNA...

I think I like this idea much more than the previous one... (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠)

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

🍓 What is something you and the mun disagree on?

✧ ━━ 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴𝚂: 𝚁𝙾𝙱𝙸𝙽 𝙰. 𝙱𝙰𝚄𝙳𝙴𝙻𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙴

🍓 What is something you and the mun disagree on? ━━ "Unfortunately the list would be much shorter if it was what we do agree on; my writer lacks quite a bit of common sense when it comes to dealing with people. Perhaps that is our deepest disagreement. Ultimately humans are whatever is most useful for the current frame; animals fueled by chemical reactions, a node in a network, an opportunity, or on rare occasions: a friend. However … regardless of their usage, learning what makes people "tick" is truly one of my favorite past times. I map people out: what triggers which emotional responses and what thoughts will come to them next. Over time and through careful watching I learn of their wounds and weaknesses, whatever strength they may have, their wants, desires, needs, likes, dislikes, their hopes, history, and habitual patterns. I leave no stone unturned, as all information is useful one way or another. People are naturally untrustworthy and as such I will know them better than they know themselves, especially their potential and their darkest aspects. After all, the better I know who I'm speaking with, the more the playing field is in my favor - even if they're only around to push an agenda or offer favors under the guise of friendship. It’s quite a riveting game of sorts, although most people, once the trivial and droll is sliced away, amount to nothing at all and can easily be removed from my life." There's a pause Robin delicately readjusts in his seat, his movements deliberate and unhurried. With a sense of quiet concentration, he brings his hands closer to his face, inspecting each nail with meticulous attention. Once satisfied they return to politely resting upon his lap, "But, oh, when those special flicks of light pass through the murk - I cannot get enough of them. These are the only people that will hold my attention for extended periods of time, and those are the ones - while I still research them - that I do hold dear to me. And it's ever more fun when people join me in my game, I prefer those who can keep up with me. Intelligence is a very attractive trait to me, and I do not enjoy wallowing about in the stupidity of so many. It isn't as though I'm incapable of human connection … it's just that most people are boring and think the same way as the rest of the rabble. I will put my entire effort, and heart, into the people that can capture and hold my interest; such finds are rare and I am no fool to toss them so swiftly. It is simply not worth the effort or time if I have no intention of furthering the relationship outside of a transactional or professional environment. I reserve my social graces for those who'll be around long enough to enjoy them." He clicks his tongue, "My writer, however, is a different story entirely; everyone is worth their time and everyone is "complex" person with feelings that matter. Hmph, I can only imagine why they're burnt out so often. It would do them well to readjust their manner of thinking; so much unncessary worry over those who don't matter, and useless things that will come to pass. They build their own anxieties through this - it is a shame they waste their talents. They have it in their mind that people are naturally good, that humanity is built and sustained through bonds of fellowship and love. I do not agree with this sentiment, it makes one vulnerable and leaves too many weak points for someone to stab into." His lips curl up into a smile, but there's an unsettling nature about the way his eyes remain cold and distant - and his cheeks do not lift his bottom lashes, "I do wonder which you fall under though; an important individual or just another cog. Hm, I suppose only time will tell me that answer, unless you'd prefer to prove it to me, of course." … "On a much lighter note; I also cannot stand dogs, and my writer has a sweet little corgi that is their entire world. If that sort of answer is more privy to your liking."

[beauteags]

TalkHack: Unleash your Communication Power.

As we all know, communication is the process of sharing and exchanging ideas and information between sender and receiver in order to establish understanding. To ensure effective communication, both parties must be active listeners to avoid possible conflicts, build trust, and make better life decisions.

I've learned that communication isn't as simple as asking a Yes-or-No question, where the sender receives only one answer without the recipient elaborating on their response. Communication involves analyzing its various aspects to achieve understanding, including verbal and nonverbal communication, listening skills, interpersonal dynamics, cultural variations, and the influence of technology on communication. It is also important to understand the various models and theories of communication, such as the Shannon-Weaver model, transactional model, and social penetration theory, which provide frameworks for understanding how communication functions. Additionally, understanding communication barriers and how to overcome them is essential for effective communication in a variety of contexts and circumstances.

In light of this, I've slowly discovered ways or tips to make speaking easier, at least for me.

First, I give myself time to analyze and plan what I'm going to say, as well as time to practice my confidence.

Second, I practice various techniques before speaking, such as breathing and tongue exercises, and practicing my smile.

For someone who stutters a lot when speaking in front, a lot of practice is needed to deliver information without stuttering, as it could be one of the communication barriers. If not delivered properly, the audience may misunderstand and interpret it differently.

Third, after knowing the type of audience I'm going to address, engaging with them is crucial. I think of ways to make the audience interested and engaged with me.

Fourth, I also practice body language, as it's part of non-verbal communication. Facial expressions, unnecessary movements, posture, and focus need attention, as recipients observe these when you're speaking. With multiple recipients, they may have different interpretations, so one wrong move could lead to varying understandings.

Fifth, if you get nervous easily like me, it's best to hold your hands tightly to put pressure on them, as you can't hold random things or other parts of your body when speaking. Just hold your hands, either intertwined and placed on your abdomen or at your back to hide shaky hands. Also, it's okay to pause; it gives the audience time to digest what you've said.

Lastly, their feedback is essential for improvement. Alternatively, watching others' speeches online can provide tips for good speaking skills, which I do when practicing my speech or speaking skills.

In conclusion, these tips are based on my experience to help me speak effectively. While everyone's methods may differ, you can consider the mentioned tips to see if they work for you. Remember, communication doesn't solely rely on speaking; it also requires active listening, considerable effort, comprehension, and meaningful interaction.

So, are you picking up on the vibes between the lines?

[secondfuckingguessing]

Not April's fool

I feel like so much has changed recently. I feel so different. It's easier to let go. Easier to choose what to focus on. Now the halo effect of last week's concert is gone, but I still feel fine. Not all is lost. Not everyone turned into a drag. Not every friend turned out weird. I had to give up everyone I felt was part of my identity. And yes, I was fun. I wasn't always hurt or had to be judgemental. I have it in me.

Things that used to consume all my thoughts and provoke visceral reactions don't hold as much power over me now. I know better than to let myself go without trying to stop it. It never led me anywhere good anyway. I lost some weight. I'm more accepting of my reality, my flaws and my mistakes. They happened. I've dealt with people who hurt me and that impacted my life a lot over the last decade. Yes. That also made me grow a lot and I'm finally reaching a point where the growth is greater than the resentment. I don't miss those people anymore. I let go of ana quite peacefully, my last strand of thinking i couldn't afford to lose the few friends I had (even though I didn't even identify with them that much anymore). Quite honestly, it didn't change much in my life. It turns out I was putting in all the effort once more. She might not be doing it on purpose,but still. It has been going on for far too long. I was completely shut off from her life. It's quite clear now she's on her trip I knew nothing about. I was silly to think it was my duty to keep the whole thing going while she healed or whatever. She's doing that through other people. I was feeling let down much more often than happy about the relationship. I felt sensitive and judgy and I honestly thought there's something wrong with me. I can't like my friends. I can't accept the way real relationships work. I'm delusional and I should care less. Maybe I'm finally learning what reciprocity means. Bia showed me that. Even though we hadn't seen each other in probably 10 years, it felt more natural than with people I thought I was close with. Am I resenting ana right now? No. But I don't exactly miss her right now either. Our good times, of genuine fun have not been recent. It was becoming this heavy weird friendship with lots of things unsaid and a lack of will to really show up to the friendship. Getting older sucks when you groe in different directions. At least I am growing, i can't say what she's interested in besides pokemon. She seems a bit too passive for my liking.

I'm letting go even of the illusion of f. I'd like to have what we had. I feel more openness in me to live that, but it's not about him. He never made me feel special. He never seemed too committed. He was just going with the flow. I know i have so much to give to someone who shows he really wants to be there, here with me. I just never felt that from him. I'm starting to think he's with someone new. I'm not sure why. If that's the case, I know I'm never seeing him again. He won't make the slightest effort to and it's not like he was even before. I'm not sure I care anymore. I truly feel I deserve better. It's his loss, honestly. I'm not that invested into chasing him just to make things right inside. If he's that big of a loser, I'll let him be.

Also, giovana. I'm not that pisssed, I'm not that hurt. She is kinda phony. She's kind of too invested in her own image, her persona. That's kinda lame, doesn't matter how many international travels she does a year. That's lack of character. Even when she thinks she's saying the right things, it feels empty. She's pretending to be this, but really she's investing in what she feels brings her more value. It's transactional in the end. I don't admire this kind of behavior, she can go fuck herself. It's good to see I'm not that hurt anymore. It's not about me being rejected anymore. These people around me really are more than what i thought previously. I don't exactly like this other side of them. Genuinely. I wouldn't choose them based on that. Julia feels childish in a way. She's deluded by parties and going after what she wants like the world is opening up to her more than 10 years later. Even after I talked to her she refuses to see anyone else than her. Funny that the only person she gave herself to was her ex, and it wasn't a great dynamic either. I wish her luck on her maturing.

I feel less lonely, even though not much has changed. I feel kike bia is someone I could on if I needed. Not exactly a shoulder to cry on, but on practical things. Like if i needed company to get a dress. I don't know why that's the thought that popped into my head. I don't want to be this heavy person always hurt and complaining. I can deal with my own sorrows. I do feel different and I hope it stays and expands and turns into something even greater and more beautiful. I feel less insecure. I feel better. Healing rocks and I'm glad to know there are good people still around, even for me.

I hope this leads me great places and that I bump into good people.

[ailelie]

Forgiveness, I think, is a human thing.

I'm Christian, sure, but I believe in radical grace, in a heaven that's opt-out rather than opt-in and sin isn't an automatic no. I believe in a God who accepts and honors mistakes, who gives infinite chances, who doesn't care about human boundaries or bigotries. Forgiveness is such a default state in my mental conception of God that it is meaningless on a divine level. All are forgiven. Moving on.

Humans, though, we need forgiveness, not to be righteous, not because it is the right thing to do, but because holding onto hurt hurts. And forgiveness doesn't mean starting over or letting someone back into your life or any kind of reconciliation. To me, forgiveness just means letting go, it means saying 'I'm not letting this matter to or hurt me anymore.' I like the definition 'to cancel a debt.'

Debts are weird. They create a connection between people, but that connection is full of fear, shame, avoidance, frustration, and pain. When you forgive someone, you cancel that debt and cut that tie. They no longer owe you apologies. They no longer get to hurt you.

(God has canceled all debts, but did so in the interest that those debts did not create a barrier between us and Them, to remove the bad feelings that create distance, to make us free to follow or walk away).

So, when I say that I think everyone can be forgiven, what I am saying is that I think anyone and any action can be let go of. I am not saying that I think forgiveness creates redemption.

I prefer the more transactional definition of redemption as well--regaining something in exchange for something else or clearing a debt. On a divine level, I like to think God basically traded Jesus in so that we might regain a way into Heaven, whether or not we decide to walk it.

On a human level, though, I cannot read hearts. I cannot see the far future. I cannot erase pain and hurt. I cannot redeem someone. Only they can do that. I like the transactional definition of redemption because it removes the heroism of 'saving.' Saving implies a single Grand Gesture that Makes It All Better.

Instead, I think of redemption as making frequent, regular payments to restore one's reputation and regain the trust and even admiration of others. It is not a Grand Gesture or laying low hoping people forget the debt. It is owning up to the pain you caused and taking constant, regular actions to counter it. And it is doing that knowing that some people will be more hurt than others and will need a greater payment over a longer period of time before they agree to trust or speak well of you again.

Redemption requires regular action. One of those actions can be a Grand Gesture, but you have to keep acting afterward.

I do think anyone can earn redemption on a human level, but it will cost them time, money, effort, and ego to do so.

tl;dr--Forgiveness is about me not you. Forgiveness means we're no longer connected and your past actions no longer get to hurt me. Forgiveness is not reconciliation and it is not redemption. Redemption is a you thing. You put in the time, money, effort, and ego, you do the work without demanding anything from me, and I'll let you know when you've regained the opinion and trust you lost from me.

[danielleverboski1a]

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[twistedmusings]

A/N: Planning to post some finished requests tonight thankfully but I wanted to share something super self indulgent with you guys since I just recently got an Alexa! I'm still kind of in a funk (since classes are STILL not over with) so thank you everyone for your kind words in my inbox q wq For now I only have Riddle and Leona...but if everyone likes it I'll make an effort to finish! I kinda am working on Azul's as we speak >:3 Warnings: Boys missing you terribly, Riddle justifying the breaking of rules and Leona realizing that he is talking to an inanimate object.

The Ramshackle Prefect leaves to go to RSA for a month, following a lead that could get them back home. And while the dorm leaders do miss them terribly, it seems one of them is hiding something.

. .

“AZUL-SHI DO SOMETHING.”

The Octavinelle dorm leader barely listened to his friend's request as he also crowded over Idia’s phone, the other five dorm leaders looking down at the screen as a pair of familiar eyes stared back at them.

“Where is Idia? Can you please hand me back to him?”

Riddle blinked at the sprite on the screen before looking back at Idia with a frown.

“Explain yourself, Shroud.”

Idia whimpered as he hung his head low in shame.

“[Y/N]-san...I mean...the Prefect left to go to RSA for a whole month, right? Crowley said it was to help them find a way back home but apparently there was some trouble there too and...and he brought them to fix it...”

Malleus’s neutral expression changes into something a bit sadder while Kalim lets out what everybody was thinking.

“To take them away so suddenly...I didn’t even get a chance to give them a goodbye party!”

“They’re only away for a month, Kalim.” Vil’s eyes stay on Idia’s phone screen.

“But I’m sure a party would have let them know how much I would miss them!”

Riddle clears his throat, “That still doesn’t explain anything about what I am seeing. Why in the world do you have something that looks like...that looks so much like them on your phone!”

Idia was sure this was hell. Of all the people to catch him using his phone during a dorm leader meeting, why did it have to be Riddle? What was he even supposed to answer to that question! That he missed talking to [Y/N]-san about the new animes that were releasing this week that he had purposefully made an AI from data Ortho had collected on them and their mannerisms?

He would rather die!

“I--I was testing a new AI! Just...for schedules and stuff like that! And I didn’t have anything else to base it on so I just took [Y/N]-san’s information and made a prototype! It’s not just going to go out to the public like that! They can customize it however they like--!”

Azul hums as he taps the screen, the sprite giggling as he touches their cheek before looking up at all of them expectantly.

“...A prototype, huh.” he smiles and leans back while taking his phone out, “Everybody stop crowding around him, we might as well be breaking his arm slowly at this point.”

The rest of the dorm leader's move back with only some protest, Idia’s eyes shining as he looks up at his other friend.

“Azul-shi…”

The dorm leader of Octavinelle grins, “If it’s a prototype then that means it needs users, correct? More people to test it out?”

“Eh?”

Azul puts his phone in front of Idia and smiles at him like he was just about to close a rather important business transaction.

“Well then I want the prototype as well. Download it to my phone, will you?”

“Eh?!”

Idia presses his phone to his chest as if Azul was about to take it, looking around nervously as the other dorm leaders take their phones out and set it in front of him.

“If it’s an application for scheduling then I could use it to keep Heartslabyul’s matters in check. I’ll take one too.”

“Ruggie is gonna be busy during exams...this thing better work as an alarm.”

“Surely this would help me keep track of my schedule for both the Monstro Lounge and school. I’ll take one with a statistics program built in, Idia”

“Oh!! I want mine to be able to sing! And can I also get them in Scarabia’s dorm uniform? I want to see what [Y/N]-san would look like!’

“I’ll take that as well. I also want a photo re-touch feature as well as one hour updates as to what is going on in my Magicam account.”

Each phone was placed in front of him as Idia felt his head start to spin. He just wanted to keep this thing a secret only for himself! He wasn’t even planning to release it, it was all just a lie so they wouldn’t know his greatest shame!

A shadow was casted over him, Idia looking up slowly as Malleus smiled and placed his phone down.

“I am eager to see your finished product, Shroud.”

The tarts in front of him looked absolutely delicious.

Trey had really outdone himself this time. The strawberries were cut into perfectly neat shapes and the glaze over them made them so mouth wateringly shiny that he could practically taste the sweet treat without even having to taste it!

Which only made his want of one grow even more.

“And here comes the next batch.” Trey smiles as he puts down another plate in front of him, Riddle’s eyes now staring at that plate while his vice dorm leader cleans himself up.

“When did you say the Unbirthday party was going to be today?”

“A-At three o’clock sharp.”

Trey nods as he looks at the clock in the kitchen.

“Perfect. I promised to meet Jade to get some herbs he has been growing as well as letting him teach me how to make this one soup they had in the Monstro Lounge about a week ago.”

He grabs his phone and heads out, leaving Riddle with a quick goodbye and a promise that he would make it back as quick as possible.

Leaving him all alone with two plates filled with his favourite treat.

The dorm leader looks around once...then twice...checking if anybody was coming into the kitchen before going back to stare at the plates.

It wasn’t like he was going to grab one

The Unbirthday party today would be using pastries that Trey had made yesterday. It was the third of the month so the rules required a completely different pastry. The strawberry tarts were most likely for tomorrow.

So Riddle could wait. He was the Heartslabyul dorm leader after all so not only could he wait but he was required to wait! As the dorm leader he was to set an example and he couldn’t let himself be seduced so easily by just two plates of such yummy looking tarts--!

He quickly takes his phone out and looks down at the screen, face flushing as he tries to remember how Idia told him to open up the new app.

“[Y/N]-san…?”

A face peeks out from the corner of his phone, smiling as it recognizes his face and steps out while giving him a polite bow.

“Good morning, Riddle-san! What can I help you with?”

He can’t help a small rush of excitement at seeing the Prefect’s face after not seeing them for two weeks. Riddle would make an effort to stop and talk to them whenever they made their way to Heartslabyul that not seeing them for so long had almost thrown him off his schedule.

And...he missed the conversations he had with them.

As the dorm leader and a student in NRC he didn’t necessarily have time to go to any other events or take part in any of the shenanigans others would get up to, not that he necessarily wanted to, but it was entertaining when the Prefect talked about it with him.

It felt like they were letting him into their world.

So maybe this substitute would suffice...it was a scheduling app after all so it wasn’t like he was using it for pleasure only.

“Would you please repeat rule 56 of the Queen’s handbook?”

The AI clears their throat as a book animation appears before them.

“Rule number 56: On the third of April, black tea should be served along with pineapple tarts. Followed by a game of cards in which the loser must pour the Queen tea for the rest of the Unbirthday party.”

Riddle sighs as he looks back at the plate of tarts.

“...I guess I’ll wait until tomorrow…”

“Wait until what?”

He looks down at the AI, the sprite blinking in confusion as it waits for an answer. Idia had mentioned adding a conversational feature…

“There is no rule about what to eat tomorrow so I decided that we would have strawberry tarts.”

“Are those your favourite?”

Riddle nods and steps out of the kitchen, making his way to his room as he stared back at the open door.

“They are. Ever since I was little. I couldn’t have many because of--”

He decides to not go deep into the subject.

“I’m sure Trey’s pineapple tarts will be excellent. I will just have to wait until tomorrow to enjoy the strawberry ones.”

The AI hums before the book animation pops up again, looking down and flipping a couple of pages before speaking up.

“Riddle-san. While it does say that black tea should be served with pineapple tarts...it does state that it should be done for the Unbirthday party and the Unbirthday party only.”

He frowns, “Your point?”

“I am sure no rule would be broken if only the Queen has a tea party before the Unbirthday party. From what I am seeing here--”

They flip a couple more pages.

“There is no rule about a tea party of one enjoying a strawberry tart.”

Riddle blinks before looking down at his phone, the sprite smiling as they shut the small book and lets it disappear with a ‘poof.’

No rule would be broken...if it was only a tea part of one?

He looks down at the AI when he hears them giggle.

“Riddle-san looks really happy.”

A blush covers his face at being called out on how big his smile probably was.

“Did I help in any way?”

The dorm leader takes a deep breath before smiling as he looks down at the phone and presses his fingertip on top of their head, rubbing it back and forth as if they were petting them. Something he knew he could never really do with them in real life lest he was looking to get odd looks.

“More than enough. Would you like to accompany me during this tea party?”

“Yes please!”

Riddle nods before looking around once more and clearing his throat.

“And...would you refer to me as ‘dorm leader’ from now on?”

The sprite nods as they give him a polite bow.

“Yes, dorm leader!”

He would need to send his report of the app as quickly as possible, Idia had really outdone himself this time...maybe he could ask if he could get them dressed up in the Heartslabyul uniform?

Riddle still wished you would hurry back.

“Leona-san! Please wake up!”

The blankets on the bed wriggled a bit as the phone was tousled over from one side of the bed to the other, the sprite inside frowning as they tried again.

“Leona-san! Please wake up! Ruggie-san texted you!”

A hand comes out of the blankets before holding the phone up.

“Read the text out loud then.”

Sighing, the AI pulls the text up and reads out loud.

“Please be awake by the time I get there, Leona. I need to make sure I get your signature on these papers for the dorm budget. If you don’t I’ll hold your lunch captive!”

Leona’s face finally pops up from under the blanket, the man sitting up and running a hand through his hair as he speaks up again.

‘Oi. What time is it?”

“It is 3:14 in the afternoon, Leona-san.”

“And when did Ruggie send the text?”

“At 3:00 o'clock.”

He groans and lays back down, the pillows flying about as he holds the phone to his face and smiling when he sees the sprite looking down at him worriedly.

“You really do look like them…” Leona whispers before tapping the screen so that he is poking the sprite’s cheek, “What is that face for?”

“I’m just worried for you, Leona-san. Too much sleep is a symptom of some sicknesses so--”

“Hah? You think I would get sick so easily?” he yawns and stretches, “I’m different from humans. Beastmen need a lot more sleep than regular humans do so...I’m just doing what my body tells me.”

Green eyes watch a notepad appear before the AI as they write down the information, smiling as they close it up and watch it disappear.

“I’ll keep that information in mind so I can serve Leona-san better. Thank you so much.”

Leona blinks at the words before a lazy smile crosses his face.

“Serve me better, huh? Never thought I would hear you say that.”

Usually the herbivore would be frowning and telling him to get up and actually take charge of his dorm and how he didn’t act like any grown up they knew. The sprite, however, tilts their head in confusion before speaking up once again.

“I am yours, after all.”

“Damn right you are.”

He looked at the phone a bit more, the sprite smiling up at him as he poked their cheek or patted their head. A part of him wondered if you would react like that with him as well. You always seemed so annoyed with his antics yet you never failed to come back to talk to him, telling him how he needs to get his act together if he is ever planning to go back to the Afterglow.

Leona would bet money that if he patted your head out of nowhere you would be highly flustered. Getting praise from him was something that didn’t happen often, after all.

“What day is it?”

“The 12th day of April, Leona-san.”

Another two weeks of you being gone. He frowns and closes his eyes as he thinks about you meeting those other students. RSA was just full of idiots...like his brother--

“Dammit.”

He slams the phone down but blinks when he hears a small yelp, turning the phone back around to find the AI looking rather frazzled with their eyes closed and hair all over the place.

“Shit. Are you....okay?”

Great, he was asking an application if it was okay. He could understand why Idia would hide this, right now he felt like he was crazy.

“Y--Yes! It was just unexpected!”

The sprite fixed itself up quickly and smiled back at Leona.

“Are you okay though, Leona-san?”

The dorm leader chuckled and nodded as they set the phone down gently and laid down next to it. At least that part was very much like you, worrying about others before focusing on yourself.

“You’re not going to complain? I almost just threw you.”

Without missing a beat, the AI stands up and looks at him.

“Leona-san is still working hard despite his body telling him to sleep. My program tells me that it would be a natural emotion to feel frustrated if you are not allowed to do something you want. Normal actions of frustration speak of physical manifestations such as kicking, punching or throwing. I was simply calculating it for it to be the latter and for it to happen towards a pillow. I’ll make sure to fix my calculations next time.”

He shakes his head and sets the phone down gently.

“Weird thing. You shouldn’t forgive someone so easily after they wronged you.”

“But you didn’t wrong me, Leona-san. I didn’t feel any pain. I just want to make sure you are feeling your best! You are my number one priority!”

This machine is going to make him go insane, he knows you would never say that but the fact that Idia had gotten your voice down so well that it was almost as if you had just told him he was your number one---

He was already getting a headache.

“Set an alarm for an hour. Ruggie will take around that long anyway.” Leona lays down and wraps the blankets around him.

“Of course. Alarm set for one hour. Would you like to be woken up with a personalized message?”

Leona hummed before grinning.

“Wake me up by calling me ‘King’.”

The sprite fixes its settings before giving a polite bow.

“Yes, my King. Please enjoy your rest.”

After this he would send his report to Shroud and maybe ask for an outfit upgrade. He only needed to show him some Afterglow clothes and the nerd would probably be able to make the AI wear them, right?

Whatever, the moment you came back Leona would make sure that you gave him some headpats for making him wait so long.

[sexyglances]

How Hyejin and Dusik Provide Gifts of Care and How They Receive Gifts of Care

Thinking about how Hyejin and Dusik approached receiving healing gifts from each other, and once again, I am struck that despite Dusik being introduced and presented the one with all the right answers and perfectly open and friendly with most people, he is slowly being shown as the one that is actually much more closed off than Hyejin is. He is comfortable only giving to other people, but has so much trouble receiving anything in return. Whereas while Hyejin has some hesitancy as well, she genuinely does both much more easily than she is given credit for. The medicine they gave each other is a great example of this, both in how they receive the gifts and how they give the gifts.

Notice how Hyejin receives the Acanthopanax - she accepts the gift, tries to invite Dusik into her home as she received it, but he refuses (because he feels like an awkward third wheel, even though she was not trying to make him feel that way), and then afterward she immediately looks up the how to use it and brews herself a cup of tea, drinking it through its bitterness. She did this despite not knowing how much effort he put into preparing that for her, only knowing that he had it "to spare."

Contrast that with Dusik, who is actually both wounded and sick in a way that requires immediate attention (as opposed to Hyejin's long-term ailment), and yet when Hyejin showed up with first aid, he did not want to accept it or let her in, preferring to suffer alone and untended. She had to insist on 'invading' his home, stating, "it's sad when you're sick alone. Everyone knows that, why don't you," before he acquiesced. She had to directly spotlight his isolation before he allowed her in.

And then even after she went inside, he was begrudging about accepting her help. It was only after her insistence that was backed up with the incontrovertible facts that he had both a temperature and a wound that he finally accepted what she was giving him. And then still, he had to undergo an arduous evolution of attitude from a crumudgeonly reluctance of accepting her care to truly embracing it. He did this first with the antiseptic that he objected to because it stings, but then after she administered it and he got over the initial pain, he watched her with an enchanted look on his face as she was blowing on it to make it dry. This was her care in action and he was mesmerized by it. Mesmerized by how it felt to be taken care of. Taken care of without her expecting anything in return. There was nothing transactional about her doing this for him.

And, it should be pointed out, this is indicative of most of her care acts, even with other people. As in, she doesn't require emotional or monetary compensation before she does something, relying instead on her morals to guide her. She does this when standing up for the mother of her neighbor at the beginning of the series against price gouging, and again with the neighborhood lady when Hyejin wouldn't let the police officer victim blame her for the voice phishing scam. When she does ask for money, it's used as a deflection tactic to disguise how caring she is being, like with Gamri's and Juri's dental procedures she gives a deep discount on. The money was a secondary motivation to helping them. Dusik also uses money or a tit-for-tat transaction in his acts of service and care, though he tends to ask for compensation up front rather than as a deflection tactic afterward. His acts of service often come with a premeditated defense mechanism attached. Though interestingly, the Acanthopanax he gave Hyejin didn't come with a price, and instead he pretended as if it was a trivial gift of spare product, negating his actual effort involved and using a pretense of nonchalance instead.

The way Hyejin approaches providing care and also Dusik's reluctance to accepting said care is illustrated again with the food Hyejin insisted he eat to get over his cold. As is typical with Hyejin's other initial responses to a problem, she wanted to avoid the path that required more effort in a skill that she was less than confident in (in this case, cooking), so initially, she wasn't going to make anything and tried to get delivery food instead. But since the easier route of getting delivery food could not provide an adequate solution for what he needed in the moment, she made the decision to put the effort forth and try and make the porridge herself. This is how she approaches so many interpersonal challenges in her life. She may want to find an easy way out at first, but she always comes around relatively quickly and puts the work in where it's needed.

As for Dusik, his acceptance of help was also indicative of his character. He complained almost the whole time while she made him nourishment, grumbled about how she was clanking and clattering about, ruining the perfect order of everything in its place in his kitchen (this mirrors her disruption in his life and psyche via her arrival in Gongjin as well). But what she provided--a filling bowl of porridge--is exactly what he needed, and he fell asleep amongst her chaos, finding it more comforting and less discordant than he realized. The porridge she made ended up tasting sour and bad, but he ate every bit while smiling, filled with bemusement over its nonconformity to what he was expecting. If he had imagined what comfort would taste like, that wouldn't be it. Yet after he had it, he found a new type of comfort in it. Narratively, this shows how Hyejin brings something completely new and invigorating into Dusik's life.

The porridge may not have been easy to get down and there may be a bit of messiness involved around Hyejin's arrival with the leftover disorder and dishes she left behind, but just because she doesn't fit in effortlessly and perfectly, doesn't mean she isn't welcome. The "medicine" Hyejin offers by being in Dusik's life is not something he welcomes easily into his life, but everything she offers is exactly what he needs to heal and grow, both in the porridge moment and in his life in general. Ultimately, what she provided was soothing to him, even if he did not expect it at first taste. After all, he absolutely felt better after he ate it.

And then he received another reward from inviting her in and sharing his vulnerability with her: he got to enjoy the sweetness from the tangerines she left the next morning, savoring them more than he expected as well. She brings unexpected joy and sweetness into his life, when he didn't even know he wanted it as much as he did.

[thran-duils]

And Those I Can’t Charm, I Can Kill (P.4)

Title: And Those I Can’t Charm, I Can Kill (Part Four) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mafia!Tony Stark. Too many fringe gangs were making ties and your father noticed. He reached out to the Stark mob for an alliance, offering up a piece of his territory at first. When Stark told him he had enough land, your father offered up the next best thing: you. He knew Stark needed a wife and what better way to solidify a relationship between the two mafia families? You were not naïve, you knew the life and you were trained with guns and negotiations. Your father had made sure of that. The two of you had seen each other on multiple occasions at mafia get togethers and knew of each other. Stark accepted the transaction but little did he know he was going to get a little hellion handed over to him that would not kiss the ground he walked on. He would grow to love it too. Words: 3,561 Warnings (more WILL be added, I am sure): Eventual smut, power dynamics, sexism, smut, public sex, fingering, dom/sub powerplay, kidnapping, violence, death, knife kink, gun kink, angst with a happy ending

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost mobile || Fanfic masterpost

You and Tony had stared at each other – you down at him and him up at you. It had felt good, fucking him. You had surpassed the real intimacy of a relationship – something the two of you had never had – straight to physical. It was how you normally did things, but it had just taken longer this time than a one-night stand.

But this was different. This was your husband.

You had a deeper connection now. You were startled out of your desire for this to be continuous.

And suddenly by your own doing, the two of you were apart, you standing yourself and him sitting, and you brushed at your hair, uncomfortable before turning for your clothes just to try to escape this unfamiliar territory. Normally, you would say something witty, grab your clothes, and leave. But there was no leaving him. You slept in the same bed. Even if that bed itself had not been christened by the two of you yet.

Tony was off the couch and came up to grasp your arms, stopping you and you looked up at him.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

The words fell around you. And your breath was short, working yourself up again. Tony saw it too and his thumbs caressed your arms, peering in closer. It was not threatening the way he was acting – comforting more than anything.

“I’m here… I’m here to be with you,” he started slowly, stumbling though. He was a man after all in the mafia, raised with the toxic masculinity that came with it. He was trying to navigate his feelings and be soft with you as well. “I want you to feel safe with me. In all aspects.”

It was intimate. And it was reassuring to know that he was making the effort to move even deeper with it. It was exciting. But you still wanted to be guarded.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you answered. Your eyes shot down and then you said, thinking on your feet, “We are both just naked in this room… standing in front of each other. I want my clothes. In case someone walks in.”

Tony’s eyes shot down and he gave a strangled laugh. “Right.” He let you go.

You gave a half smile before you ducked down and grabbed your bra, doing it up. Tony followed suit, beginning to dress himself back up. And then you grabbed your dress. You pulled it over your head and turned around promptly, “Zip me?”

The complete opposite of what you had asked merely ten minutes ago.

Tony cleared his throat, “Yeah.”

He zipped it up and his hands rested around the base of your neck. You were only suspended for a few moments before you turned around to face him again, your faces close. His slacks were back on, belt done, but his dress shirt half buttoned up, that drew your eyes for a split second.

“This is awkward,” he acknowledged sheepishly.

“Yeah,” you agreed and then cleared your own throat. “Um, let’s exit separately. That would seem normal to everyone else. Don’t want to shock them and all.”

He was amused, giving a little laugh, “Right. Don’t forget your thong though.”

“And there you go being the ass that I know,” you retorted, going to grab it and shimmying into it as he gave another laugh.

<><><>

You saw Bucky and Rhodey watching you come back out, curiosity painted on their faces. They had seen how angry Tony had been taking you back into the room and now that you were coming out alone, that was sure to draw their attention. Shit. Tony should have walked out first. You looked away quickly walking past their table and going back to where your friends were sitting before they could stop you.

Moving through the center of the group, you sat back down, adjusting your dress but did not miss the white-hot stares you were receiving from your circle of friends. You met their gazes and leveled them before giving an expectant shrug.

“Where did you go?” one of them asked.

“Nowhere,” you answered simply. You picked up one of your bottles on the table and began pouring shots. “Let’s drink.”

Another friend answered with a giggle, “She went somewhere with her husband.”

You glowered, stalling in pouring the shots, and asked, “So?”

“Did you finally give it up then? Because you’re being defensive. Oh, look, here he comes.”

Following their gaze, you saw Tony walking out now. He was being as normal as you, no sign of a smirk on his face. But then he did give it away. His gaze did flick over to you and the two of you locked eyes for a moment before he looked away again.

“You totally did,” your same friend crowed.

“If you don’t shut the hell up, I’m going to kick you out of the VIP section!” you threatened her.

“Touchy, touchy! Fine, I’ll drop it. It’s done. And so is your honeymoon officially!”

“Ass,” you snapped as you passed the shots out.

<><><>

Tony sat down at the booth and straightened out his suit jacket. “Where are the shots?”

“Well, we took them without you because you were gone for so long,” Natasha said with a twinkle in her eye.

“There’s plenty of alcohol in this bar. I should know. Where’s our bar—”

Someone showed up at the table, dress in the staff uniform and asked, “What’ll it be, Mr. Stark?”

“A round for the table. Bourbon.”

Natasha and Bucky protested. “No, vodka, please.”

“Fine, bourbon and vodka. Just bring two bottles, everyone has their glasses already. Blanton’s and Grey Goose.”

The server nodded, “Of course, Mr. Stark.”

As soon as they walked off, Tony looked around the table again. And they all averted their eyes. Sighing annoyed, he asked – even though he had a good idea already what was going on – , “What is it?”

Clint took the dive for everyone else and tried to say as nonchalantly as possible, “You look… not pissed off.”

“And?” he asked with a sharp edge to his voice. “Do I always look pissed off?”

“Yes,” came the chorus around the table and he frowned, displeased.

Unable to help himself, Bucky chortled, “You fucked,” as Rhodey cracked a wide smile at his statement.

“Be respectful,” Tony snapped at them.

Bucky closed his mouth, biting his cheeks as Tony took a long swig of his drink.

“Respectful? You’re the one that’s been complaining she sleeps turned away from you!” Rhodey said, still laughing lightly. “I was frankly getting tired of hearing about it. This is good news for everyone.”

“You’re welcome then,” Tony muttered to everyone’s continued amusement as the server came back with their bottles. He thanked them and took the bottles, beginning to pour everyone their own respective shots.

“To the King and Queen then,” Natasha proposed, holding up her shot glass.

<><><>

A few weeks later, there was commotion at the front door, and you put your book down before sliding out of the recliner you were in. You could hear Tony; he was angry, ranting. You came into the entrance hall cautiously and found him storming up the stairs. He stopped and was shouting still back at Steve, something about making sure that the car was destroyed and far from the city.

He noticed you were standing there suddenly and that is when you got a full view of his face. He was scraped up.

“Christ, what happened?” you asked him worriedly, coming closer to the bottom of the stairs between him and Steve. Steve took the hint and told Tony he would make sure it happened and turned on his heel to leave.

To you, Tony said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” He began to turn to go up the stairs further.

You followed quickly, “You don’t look fine. Here, let me help.” He started to protest but you were already there, going past him. You stole another glance and saw there were scraps by his eyebrow and upper cheek, bleeding still. “There’s a kit in the guest bathroom. That’s closest. Come on.”

Tony followed you and you told him to sit on the toilet. He did as you said, looking hesitant. You dipped to grab underneath the sink and pulled out the first aid kit. Working quickly, you got the hydrogen peroxide as well and used the cotton balls to wipe at his face. He hissed and you apologized gently, dabbing with care.

“What happened?” you asked again as you wiped at the cuts.

“It doesn’t—”

“Tony.”

He ground his teeth for a few seconds before saying, “I almost got run over.”

You stilled and pulled away to meet his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“One of Weston’s guys.” You knew Weston. He ran an outfit outside the city, smaller but it was influential for keeping the borders secure.

“Weston?” you asked in disbelief. As far as you knew, he did not have any issue with Tony.

“I don’t know. We were working at a site and all of a sudden I heard someone coming in quick and Thor shoved me out of the way.” Your heart clenched and he saw. “He’ll be fine. He got nicked and it sent him spiraling. If it had been one of us, we would have had broken bones. He’s shaken up and bloodied, but he’s gonna be fine.”

“That’s good,” you said dropping the cotton balls into the trash and moving towards the bandaids and antibiotic ointment. “But, did Weston send him?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said honestly. “I don’t think so. The guy is someone who had an issue with me personally. Seems his brother got killed or something in a recent raid. Wanda and Rhodey were interrogating the guy after Steve forced me to come back here in case there were other people gunning for me.”

“That was smart of him,” you said tapping the ointment onto the cuts. “I’m glad he brought you back.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tony asked with a small smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes, I would like you to always come back alive if you could manage that for me,” you retorted, opening up a bandaid. You bandaged up the worst of it and added for good measure, “And if you could be more cognizant of your surroundings that would be a good place to start to make sure that happens….”

Turning away from him, you heard him give a light chuckle at your quip. You felt the air shift behind you, and you closed the kit, pushing it back further on the counter.

You made to ignore how close he was and walked towards the door, but he was quicker, grabbing your arm and stilling your movement. His other hand grasped the door, and he threw it closed before turning you around and holding you against it. Staring up at him, you stayed still, waiting for him to make his move.

“I’ll take that into consideration, just for you. I’ll keep my head on a swivel. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a good plan.”

Tony’s lips curled into a smile before he leaned in and you followed his movement, coming in to kiss him softly. He hummed in approval, his hands ghosting up your sides. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, and you wrapped your arms tight to paw at his ass through his pants. He liked that by the noise he released, and you sucked in at his bottom lip. Pinning your wrists above your head, his lips dragging roughly over yours. You bit at him now in a mock threat, and he chuckled before capturing you in a passionate kiss. Your pelvis ground towards him and your tongue slipped into his mouth, swirling. The two of you were locked in a passionate dance.

Tony groaned, pulling away as you brushed his length through his slacks with your thigh. He turned you around in a fluid motion, keeping your wrists pinned and pressed himself against your back. Your neck was sucked and peppered with eager kisses, him dry humping you. You dragged your teeth across your bottom lip, a wanton whine escaping.

He let go of your wrists and made quick work of pulling your sun dress up and freeing himself from his pants. Working with him, you spread your legs and arched your back, anticipation crawling over your skin. Pulling your underwear aside, he drove up into you, holding tight at your hips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you gasped as he picked up speed.

Anyone walking by outside the room would be greeted with loud, pleasured moans and the sound of skin slapping skin with how hard Tony was driving into you. You hardly cared; it was your damn house after all.

The two of you found a slow rhythm to relieve the intensity, a needed break. You rolled your hips, riding him with precision. His hands flexed, one coming up to cup your breast, kneading at it through your dress. He leaned forward enough to suck at your earlobe, whispering filth into your ear before he gave a rough nip.

You pushed back roughly and hissed, “I’m so close. Please.”

Tony’s hand fell from your tit and found its way between your panties and wet pussy. His fingers worked at your clit, and you groaned loudly, begging for him to not stop and he promised you he was going to fuck you good. He was working fast again, his breath coming quick and hot.

“I…I…” you stuttered moments before you clenched, your heat enveloping him tighter.

“Oh, god, that’s it, baby,” Tony praised in a low groan, his fingers faltering on your clit. But he thrusted quicker for a few seconds before he was pulsating. His hand fell to your thigh, fingers digging in as he stilled, emptying completely.

His head rested on your shoulder, the two of you breathing heavy. He found his breath again and laid a soft kiss at your neck.

“Well, that helped my stress,” he breathed.

Leaning back, you turned your head to be able to see him well enough to give him a kiss. Against his lips, you smiled, “Glad I could be of some assistance.”

<><><>

Erick was walking beside you, checking his phone. He suddenly stopped, holding out his arm to stop you as well. “We should go to another store.”

You furrowed your brow and said, “What? Why? I’m done. And they said they would be at the café now for lunch.”

“They’re going to be late.”

Shooting a look across the street, you spotted Bucky inside and slid your eyes back to Erick, looking completely unimpressed. “Nice try. Bucky is already inside.”

Erick swore underneath his breath and you frowned, sensing you were being kept out of the loop about something. You had been surprised when Bucky and Natasha had asked to ride along with you and Erick when they learned where you were going to be going shopping but had told them to come along. They had made it clear they were going somewhere else but would meet back for lunch.

You began walking again and Erick said more firmly, “Y/N, we should find another store to go into.”

Pressing the crosswalk button, you crossed your own arms, your bags bumping up against your middle. You always insisted on carrying some of the bags. Erick was your bodyguard, not your servant.

“Y/N.”

“I heard you. And I’m choosing to ignore you.”

Erick sighed loudly as the light came on to cross and you did so, hearing him follow you despite his protesting. Bucky spotted you through the window and his eyes shot back to Erick, giving him a disappointed glare. It only served to encourage you to move a bit quicker. Upon entering the café, you saw Bucky staring directly at you and Natasha looking at you over her shoulder.

“You’re supposed to be shopping,” Bucky said as you approached the table.

“I’m done. I thought we were having lunch,” you told him, sitting down beside him, placing your bags on the ground. “What’s the hold up?” Natasha was tight lipped as was Bucky as Erick sat down next to Natasha. You exhaled deeply and said in a quieter voice, even though you were alone in the corner, “You can trust me. You know you can. You’re doing a drop off, aren’t you?” Bucky cocked his head and you picked up his coffee and took a sip. “I know Salazar likes to do business in that building. You must need some new toys.”

Natasha and Bucky exchanged a look and for once, you noticed Erick actually looked amused at the fact you had forced yourself into the situation. He knew you were not stupid and he was probably feeling a little sense of pride that they were noticing that as well.

Adjusting in his seat, Bucky admitted in low tones, “Yes. And someone who isn’t gonna be happy about it has people set up inside watching to see who goes in and out.”

“I can do it.”

“It’s dangerous, Y/N,” Erick told you immediately before the other two could respond. His amusement was gone.

Seriously, you asked, “For me? They’re not even to think twice about me walking in. Sure, I’m married to Tony and my dad is a boss. But people really don’t pay attention to me except thinking about getting me on my back.”

Natasha ground her teeth at that, uncomfortable.

“Well, it’s the truth,” you said, shrugging. “They’ll think I’m just going in to look at the back jewelry room. All I care about is shopping anyways, right?” Natasha cocked an eyebrow and you said with a smirk, “Yes. I do know about that too, and I’ve been inside. Problem is I’ll have to actually go up to the room and that guy — Tucker — is a sleazebag.”

“You think I’m gonna let you go alone?” Erick asked.

You patted his arm, “Look at you being chivalrous.”

“Tony would have my balls if I let you around Tucker without me.”

“Wait, we did not even agree to this,” Natasha cut in, holding up her hand.

“Give it to me,” you told her, holding out your hand. “I can carry it in my purse. Go upstairs, get something small from Tucker or act like I was not impressed with the selection, and then come back down a back way to drop it into the chute before circling back and coming back out the front entrance.”

You flexed your fingers after they did not react quick enough. “I have concealed carry if anything goes wrong. And you know Erick is a great protector.”

“I have to ask Tony—” Bucky started to say.

“Bullshit,” you told Bucky. “This needs to get done. I’m assuming it’s time sensitive. And you had an unexpected snag and you have the solution sitting right beside you. Not acting on it is going to make you miss your goddamn window. I have gotten my hands dirty before and involved with this type of shit. It’s nothing new.”

Natasha nodded at Bucky stiffly and he sighed, reaching into his jacket, pulling out a thick bag and handing it to you. You felt it was money and put it into your purse swiftly. It was concealed by the fact it was hidden in a grocery store bag, not see through. Picking the menu up, you quickly scanned it.

“Erick and I both like breakfast sandwiches, his with ham and mine with bacon,” you told them putting the menu back down on the table. “I want an orange juice too. You?”

“Water,” Erick answered before following your movement to stand up.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Hopefully before the food gets here. Mind my bags, please,” you told the pair before striding off and not waiting for their answer.

Tucker was a sweet talker as always, commenting on how nice your jumpsuit looked. His hands trailed along your own and you pulled away naturally, not forcing it. When you politely brushed off his advances, he congratulated you on your recent marriage since he had not seen you since it happened. You bantered back and forth with him about how he was always able to find out the latest gossip. He told you that it was big news that Tony had gotten married; if you did not know it, you were not keeping your ear to the ground at all.

To your surprise, he had something in stock you really wanted. And it was for Tony. A nice new ring and you took it happily. Hopefully if Tony caught wind of this – which he certainly would, you doubted Bucky or Natasha would lie to him – this would soften the blow.

On the way down, you did exactly what you said were you going to do and you dropped the bag off in the chute and came back around. Walking right past the people that you knew were watching for whoever it was that Natasha and Bucky were worried about. They only glanced at you and looked away when they saw the small signature bag of Tucker’s business.

Sliding back into your chair, you placed the bag on the table and said, “It’s done. Also, do you think Tony will like that?”

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl @namjoonwatcheshentai @kaylamcd2000 @damntonystarkandhissmile @aditimukul

Fic tags: @patheticallysentimental @suchababie @downeyreads @teenageregression​

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Pawn: Three

Bucky looked at you across the table. You looked sleek. Smart. Every inch the barracuda lawyer that had been keeping Tony’s legal affairs in order. And he tried his most charming smile. Anything to try and lessen the tension at the table. 

You were it. Aside from Rhodes standing discreetly near by sipping coffee. Bucky wasn’t sure if he was there to spy or act as a body guard. Bucky supposed it could be both. But now that he was here, staring you in the face, somehow he wasn’t sure what to say. 

He didn’t need to be charming. You’d already agreed to marry him. And even if you hadn’t, you didn’t look like you could be charmed. You look immune. And he curses himself for cutting his own balls off. He feels like he backed himself into a corner. And it rankles. 

“You had quite a list for your step dad and I,” Bucky started, taking a sip of his coffee. 

You shrug, almost carelessly, “If we’re doing some medieval nonsense I figure I may as well get something out of it.”

“Diamonds though?”

“A time honored tradition,” you snort. “When men hold the purse strings.”

Bucky nodded, considering that for a moment. He supposed that he knew that. His ma had told him something to that affect once. That it was important to have a back up plan and Jewelry could be pawned for quick cash. He could respect that. And it told him a little more about you. You liked to have plans. A strategy. Bucky could bet you were a killer Scrabble player. And that you probably hated when people made rash decisions. 

“That contract was air tight,” he mused, “Houdini couldn’t get out of those terms.”

“Thank you,” you answer, smiling a little over your mug.

“I’m not sure that that’s a compliment,” he snorted. “You had me by the short hairs from the jump… why expend the effort?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you sigh, shrugging again. “I have a career to think about. I’m giving up a life of my own to protect criminal empires. Sure, we can be friends. We can get along. But you and I both know that I’m just a pawn in all this and you don’t see me as much of an asset.”

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. “What about love?” You didn’t mention it. And it still took him by surprise that you didn’t seem to want it. 

“What about it?” you counter. 

“That’s not a part of the plan?” He tried not to sound incredulous but he couldn’t tell if you were being intentionally dense or what… he hated that he couldn’t read you. He could read everyone. 

“It never was before,” you shrug, “I never even planned to get married.”

“No big white wedding with your dad walking you down the aisle?” he pressed. 

“Not my dad, no,” you answer shrugging. You know what he’s doing. That he’s digging. Trying to feel out the things that Tony had meticulously kept out of public view. For years Tony had worked double time since you were six to protect you. To make sure that no one could use you to get to him. And part of that had meant not being openly affectionate. In public, at least. He’d be kind, sure. But he was distant. Even occasionally visibly impatient. And even that was better than what your biological father had done. 

Bucky felt his eyes narrow. You weren’t really giving him anything. Volunteering nothing. Answering in only the barest terms. He didn’t expect you to swoon, sure. But it would be nice to get SOMETHING. Anything aside from being held at arms length.

“The wedding happening at all is mostly for my mom,” you tell him shrugging. 

Bucky nodded, “It’s hell being the oldest, huh?”

You smile a little, “Not really. I was out of the house when Morgan was born. And by the time Morgan gets married mom’ll have had some time to mellow out. She just loves an excuse to plan parties… And with all the legal things I’ve been doing she’s been taking over the party planning things for my charity projects.”

“Your projects?”

“She told Tony that some outreach work would probably help cops look the other way when it came to his low level guys doing some dumb shit,” Rhodey chimed in. 

Bucky blinked. He’d wondered what the fuck Stark was doing. And he wasn’t sure what to say to that. It was Machiavellian. It was brilliant. Across the board, Stark had lower levels of busts. And a TON of positive press. He looked like an upstanding citizen. A business man. Bucky knew that that had irritated his dad. It had irritated him too. And he had no diea that it wasn’t even his doing, not really. 

“How-”

You shrug, “I wanted to know if it would work and Tony gave me a little money to play with. Then sent me to school to learn not for profit management and law.” You shoot Rhodes a look and he shrugs. He wants Bucky to know what he’s getting. To know that your degree was earned, not bought. That any opportunity Tony had given you, you’d capitalized on. He hated watching Bucky look at you like he was looking at you. Like a stupid girl. Like an obligatory thing. And he hated that you were treating this like what it was. A business transaction. You were better than this. Better than what you were given right now. He knew it. Tony knew it. Barnes needed to know it. You were doing a all of them a favor. 

____________

“How’d it go?” Tony asked, lighting a cigar. 

“He’s in over his head. She’s keeping her hand in and playing it close to the chest,” Rhodes said. “Full barracuda mode.”

Tony snorted. He’d wondered before if he should have put you in therapy. He and Pepper had talked about it after everything your dad had done. But now? He was glad he hadn’t. Sure, you were going to have to be vulnerable at some point but Bucky was going to have to earn it. 

Rhodes shook his head and laced his fingers behind his neck. “This is a  mess, Tony,” he said, watching his friend. 

“Don’t I know it,” Tony huffed, rolling his eyes. “Pepper’s on my ass, Morgan’s on my ass. The only person that doesn’t think I’m some awful tyrant is the person I’m marrying off.”

“Y/N’s got bigger balls than any of us, swear.”

And Tony chuckled, “Bless her little heart… Now I gotta figure out how to tell her that her dad is kicking up a fuss.”

“About what?” Rhodey said, sitting up. It was a knee jerk reaction. One that had long been instilled in him. The one person that had ever kidnapped you had been Jesse. 

“The wedding, what else?” he scoffed. “He seems to think he gets a say.”

“Bullshit. Doesn’t he have like… a whole new family that doesn’t even know about her?”

“Two of ‘em.”

Rhodey looked towards the mantle. There was a picture of you and Morgan. You were At the park sitting on a swing. Morgan was on your lap, face sticky with blue cotton candy and beaming at the camera as you kissed the side of her head. “Does she know?”

“Not yet,” Tony said flinching. “Pep’s trying to get her alone and talk to her about it… He’s planning on brining everyone.”

“That’s gross.”

“Tell me about it,” Tony sighed. “I don’t get what the sudden interest is. He made it pretty clear that she was a “youthful mistake” and she wasn’t supposed to contact him.”

“She wasn’t a hot shot lawyer when she was 8,” Rhodey said bitterly.

[marshmallowprotection]

Camellia

Pairing: Choi Saeran/Reader

Description: Ray was a princess no matter what she thought of herself and you were determined to give her everything that a princess was worthy of. She was deserving of her fantasy and you were going to do everything you could if it meant that she could sparkle and shine as the royalty you knew her to be.

Word Count:  3934

Fem!Ray x Reader

[Read On AO3]

She had made it seem like there was nothing that she could ever do to allow herself to be the person that she wanted to be. 

She had allowed herself to believe that there was nothing she could do to change anything about the situation that she was in. Yet, late at night when she was ruminating in her thoughts and when she spoke to you on the phone, it would reveal these little fantasies of hers that would make your heart swell with admiration and fancy.

Ray was a very interesting person. There was so much about her that you didn't know and yet there was so much that you wanted to discover. 

The fact that you didn't know everything that you possibly could wasn't a bad thing, oh, you considered it to be a good thing because every moment you were learning something new about this kind-hearted soul who looked at you as if you can move the Sun and the Earth.

She put every ounce of her effort into maintaining the server and workup of the game that she had created. She was often so busy with making sure that everything was running the way that it was meant to, but she didn't get to see you as much as she wanted. You didn't get to see her as much as you wanted.

It was nothing personal, she was kind of a workaholic.

Even if it was trying to take care of herself by making a nice meal, or getting some rest. She was always concerned about making sure that you were okay more than anything else. It was never about what she was doing or what she needed to do to make sure that she was having a good day. It was always about your comfort and what you needed to be happy in this place.

Never once had you seen Ray do something for herself.

She was incredibly selfless, to a degree that it was almost worrying because everything came before her health and well-being. It was why those little fleeting moments late at night when she would reveal secrets of her heart to you, that you would relish every second of it. You knew that nobody else had the privy of knowing her in the way that you did.

You didn't know her through the way that the characters had been created when the game was in development with more than just herself behind everything, but what you did know was how she gauged your reactions when you were playing and how she was constantly searching for your reaction. 

You could tell that she wanted to take everything you said seriously, and it wasn't just because she was a developer that wanted to make sure that no bugs were going wrong. No, never once had you felt like this was a business transaction between people. She hung on every single word that you said like it was a lifeline. 

The way that she looked at you when you were talking was like someone seeing the Sun for the first time, or seeing the moon on a cloudless night

Ray listened to you and treated you better than anyone that you had ever met in your entire life. 

She made you feel like you are on cloud nine, and never once did you feel like your presence was unwanted or unneeded. She made you feel like you were truly something special, and it was because of that that every time you thought of her, you could feel your heart fluttering in your chest.

There was no denying that you felt something strongly for Ray. You weren't going to shove that feeling aside because it was just so palpable now that there was no ignoring it. It did give you an idea of something that you could do to make her feel like she was special. Because one thing that you had noticed in her late-night ruminations was her desire to feel like your princess.

Ray would spin these stories when she was having a hard time sleeping or when she was working so hard that she needed to relax her brain for just a minute to be able to continue working as hard as she was. She mentioned that she would close her eyes sometimes and imagine herself as a princess who lived in a tall tower. 

She saw herself as someone that had been trapped and hidden away from the world for her protection by her Savior and guardian, yet, she kept gazing out of the window to see the world that she was being protected from. 

She longed to touch the grass, the trees, the sky, the seas, and anything else that she could. 

The part of her story that made your voice hitch was when she mentioned the lovely princess that lived outside of her tower that would wander in the gardens that she desired to see firsthand. This princess was far more beautiful than the flowers and made the trapped princess both envious and fall in love at the same time. She yearned to walk the gardens with the freed princess.

Every time she would reach the end of her little story, you would shiver as she whispered, “That princess… she’s you, my precious game tester. Like Briar Rose, wandering the forest without a care in the world… waiting for her dreams to come true as she fails to realize just how lovely she is… and maybe… maybe soon she’ll stumble into her destined love.” 

With stars and affection in her eyes, she would call you her favorite princess. You knew that she thought well of this fantasy because she had decorated the room that you were staying in to feel like a room meant for a princess. She would always bring you flowers, and she would go out of her way to make sure that everyone treated you with the utmost care. 

It made your heart flutter so strongly that you didn't know what to do. But, what were you meant to do? What could you say when someone of her wonder and amazement called you something like that? 

All you could do was think of how she made you feel and how warm you felt on the inside. You have never felt so strongly for someone before in your entire life, and you wanted to give her the world. She wanted to give you the world, but you were very hell-bent on making sure that she had it first. 

Yet, she deserved to be that fairytale princess who ran amongst the flowers and tasted the sweetest berries that could reach her lips. No, she needed it and you were going to find a way to do it. No matter how much you had to do to make it happen and no matter how much thought and planning would go into it. 

Ray deserved to feel like she was on top of the world because she, more than anybody you ever knew, was worthy of admiration. If it could only be possible for a day, you would make sure that she had a day where she was allowed to be herself and allowed to be the princess that you knew she was. 

So, you set out making a day just for Ray. It took some thought and convincing on your end, but you managed to piece together everything you needed. There were a lot of little parts that had to come together to make things work, and you had done all of it on your own without any help in the slightest apart from one or two things. 

Ray’s birthday was very soon and thanks to that fact, and you weren’t sure how you did it, but you had gotten the Savior to let Ray have a couple of hours in the afternoon off-duty. You had a feeling this might be the only time she would get a break this month, so you were going to make the best of it so she would have a moment to look back on and smile in tough times. 

“What’s all this…?” 

“You’ll see, Ray, it’s a surprise.” 

It was meant to be a surprise because she seemed floored when someone came to her workroom to bring her to your room. Though, you paid her surprise no mind and beamed. It was always you who was escorted to meet her in the gardens on days like this, so she never thought that someone would come and ask her to do the same. 

She seemed unsure of what to think at that moment but when you extended your hand to her, she took it and you knew that she was putting all of her faith into you. 

You put your plan into motion without a second thought, “Is it okay if I style you for the day, Ray?” 

“Style…?” she looked at you as her brow furthered. “Oh, do you mean that you want to… do my hair and things of that nature?” 

Nodding, you agreed. You sat her down at the vanity mirror and offered to do her hair and makeup for the day. Her hair was always neat and properly curled whenever you saw her in the morning, but she claimed that she only had enough time to put on strawberry gloss when she paused in front of the mirror.

“It won’t take too terribly long,” you promised. 

Ray kept her hands clasped together on her lap as you gently ran a brush through her curls. “I don’t mind… I’m flattered that you want to do something like this for me. Take as long as you want.” 

She was patient and understanding, but a part of you felt like she said that because she liked the feeling of you fawning over her like this. You wouldn’t deny that you didn’t feel the same way as Ray showered you with adoration. When she pressed a hand to your cheek and gazed deeply into your eyes, you would’ve done anything she asked. 

It was as simple as that. 

When you beckoned her forward, she would follow, and when she urged you to come to her side, you would follow. It was like a song and dance that you knew very well, each of you taking turns at leading the melody along. 

You were very careful with her skin as you applied some foundation and rouge. Her skin was very light because she didn’t go out very often, almost like porcelain that was close to breaking if you weren’t careful with the way you held it within your hands. She was naturally a beauty but you wanted to help her feel confident in that. 

She always complimented the way that you did your makeup, so it only seemed fair that you do something amazing in return. She refused to look into your eyes as you dabbled some gloss on your finger and brushed it against her lips, though you could feel her watching you from the corner of her eyes. 

Though she claimed her lips were often dry and cracked, you could claim otherwise, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like pressed against your lips. You had to shake the thought away whenever it arose because you weren’t going to nudge her into doing something that she wasn’t ready for. 

Her hair was shoulder-length, but the curls that you touched up with heat and spray bobbed just over them thanks to the tight swirls in her hair. Her bangs often fell in front of her eyes, but you had the foresight to gently tuck it back out of the way with a flower hairpin that was amongst the items that she had given to you with the room. 

Ray leaned into your touch every step of the way, and when you pulled your hand away to admire your handiwork, she followed your touch until she realized what she was doing. Her cheeks turning warmer and warmer as she tried to hide her embarrassment. Ray was starved about as much as anyone could be for physical touch. 

She hadn’t looked at the mirror yet. However, she did look at you for answers and perhaps a reflection in your eyes. “How… how does it look, then? I mean, I’m sure it looks great since you’re the one that did all the work on something as plain and boring as me, but…” 

“I think it’s missing something, actually, Ray,” you said. 

You paused if only briefly to glance between Ray and the closet in the corner of the room. You weren’t done with her yet, however, and as lovely as she looked at the moment, you wanted her to be able to see herself the way that you always imagined her to be. Ray followed your eyes as if it would give her an answer. 

Ray hesitated, “Missing something? You’ve already troubled yourself so much for me today… you don’t have to do anything more, I promise.” 

“I have just the thing, Ray. Don’t worry about it. I think you’ll want to see yourself after we had the missing part.” 

She seemed reluctant but she would never discourage you from listening to whatever you were thinking of doing. So, you led her over to the closet and tucked out the outfit that you’ve picked out personally for her to wear. 

That had taken the most trouble to find with your limited sources here in Magenta, but you had gotten it after some soul-searching… and strong begging until someone sighed and did what you asked of them. You had your ways that worked and you were going to keep them until they didn’t work anymore. 

You offered to help her get dressed, but Ray was still very anxious about revealing any of her body to you. You understood the sentiment and turned your back to her as fabric glided to the ground with a soft pitter-patter. 

Fabric rustled and fluttered behind you until you heard that soft voice ask you to lace up the ribbon in the back of her as her hands were just a bit too short. 

It only took you a few moments to tie back the pink ribbon with a few flicks of your wrist. With a smile, you led her back over to the mirror covering your hands over her eyes so it didn’t, “spoil the surprise too soon!”

The sound of nervous giggles flooded that room because you felt so giddy and Ray couldn’t stop the infectious feeling of your happiness. She had mentioned that plenty of times before and now you were just so happy that she was about to have a day fit for a real princess such as herself. As you took a step back, you felt her hand grasp at yours. 

“...Wait,” she murmured. Her eyes were still closed tightly as if not to break the illusion that you had created. “I want to see us together.” 

You smiled. “I could never say no to you, princess.” 

At that nickname usage, Ray let out a gasp and opened her eyes. She looked at the mirror as it was the first thing she could see without checking where she was in the room, and her mint eyes settled on her face as she realized what you have done. She was staring directly at someone who looked every bit of the princess that she had tried to describe you to be. She didn’t say anything about it, she just kept staring. 

You had carefully tucked her hair into neat curls but a good portion was curled back with a pink rose. She seemed to be admiring that detail for the longest time, and the big dress that she was wearing was very ornate in detail, every bit of a Lolita who aimed to dress like a princess in layered petticoats and ribbons. 

It was pink, as you had surmised that she liked the color pink, but you added a little blue necklace around her neck since that had to be her other favorite color. 

Despite herself, she let out the softest giggle that seemed to relish in her delight at how you’d dressed her. She clenched your hand once, twice, and then thrice. “I… I don’t know what to say… nobody’s ever done something like this for me before.” 

“I told you, princess,” you lifted her hand to your lips as she hung on your every word. Her eyes watching you in the mirror. “Today is about you. Anything your heart desires. But, it’s not over yet, this is just the start. After all, I couldn’t take the princess out to her garden without making her feel as beautiful as she is on the inside.” 

Ray murmured your name in surprise. 

“C’mon, you’ve got more surprises, my lady.” 

You could see the way that tears splotched to the corner of her eyes but she didn’t dare allow herself to cry and ruin what you had done. After a gentle tug of her hand, you were able to lead her out of the room and deep into the gardens.

You knew the path by heart now and you didn’t have to worry about getting lost. She didn’t need to worry about anything. You would do everything. You had asked someone to help you set out some of the details so you could focus on spoiling Ray in the meantime, and you were happy to see that someone had helped you. 

They had set out the tea table as you had asked them to do, but the little cakes and pastries had all been of your making. Now, you knew you weren’t quite as great as she was when it came to baking—

But, you didn’t care about that. You knew it was a little sloppy, but Ray never once commented on that. She just held tightly to your hand and stared at everything. Her lips were parted into this small o-shape that she couldn’t hide. It was cute. You didn’t want to give away your laugh about it yet. 

She let go of your hand just to inspect everything. Her hands running against the edge of the tablecloth and admiring the detail that you had gone to for her, all to make sure that she had the tea she loved and the sweets that she had dreamed of tasting and making. It had been tough to figure them all out but it was worth it. 

To see the look in her eyes and the wonder on her face made you so happy. 

What mattered was that Ray got that date in the garden that she had desired for so very long. She talked about it so often that you knew how to paint the scenery down to the smallest detail. It was her dream to give to you, but you were gifting it back. 

“This is…” 

You already felt like you were special just by being at Ray’s side. 

“Your dream, right?” 

It was like her dream had come to life. 

“How did you…?” 

Ray spun around to face you as you set aside your phone, the gentle hum of music coming from the speaker as it rested against the table. This was a dream but it was reality at the same time, this was real. You offered her your hand and smiled, “You wouldn’t be too terribly bothered if I were to ask the princess for a dance, right?” 

“The answer is always yes, for you,” she murmured. 

Her gloved palm rested against yours without a moment of hesitation, but her eyes were filled with far too many emotions to understand all of them. You just knew that the star-struck look on her face made you feel electrified. 

“Can I tell you a story?” 

“I’d love to hear one.” 

She leaned into your arms and the two of you swayed together as the music played in the background. It was the perfect moment. 

“There was once a princess hidden away in a tall tower,” you began to say as the memory came flooding to you. “She loved to gaze out over the gardens of the castle next door. She knew that she was safe in her tower, but every day, she saw the princess of the neighboring castle visit the garden day after day, she found herself wanting to be close to the other princess, but never knowing how.” 

“She thought that the princess would never notice her, so she resigned herself to gazing out of her window every day. However, what the tower princess didn’t know was that the princess that visited the garden had noticed her every day. That’s why she visited her garden so often. She came every day just to catch a glimpse of the maiden locked away in the tall tower.” 

“Her favorite part of the day was when she realized that the princess had come to her window because she could see the girl with snow-white hair and rosy cheeks. One day, she made a plan, she decided that she would sneak the princess out of her tower for a day. She worked hard to find the hidden door to the tower, and visited her princess, offering to escort her outside for the day, as not to anger her mother.” 

“The tower princess agreed because she was so taken with the garden’s princess, and the two of them shared a lovely day underneath a willow tree, folding rows of flower crowns and enjoying each other’s company. Though their perfect day did have to come to an end, neither princess wanted to leave the other behind now that they had finally met.” 

That had caught Ray’s attention and she was now looking at you with a curious glint in her eyes, her head cocked. “What happened next?” 

You were adding onto the story that she had created and painting a picture of hope for her instead of yearning that would never be completed. She hung on every word and you found yourself unable to look away. 

“They both devised a plan to unite their kingdoms, but this plan was going to take time… they had to put their heads together to settle the fighting that started between their two kingdoms in the first place… however, they knew that as long as they had each other, they would be able to change things for the better, they decided all of that in a day, as they had fallen in love with one another.” 

Your free hand grazed against Ray’s hip and she let out a little gasp at the soft touch. You leaned over and brushed your forehead against hers. Neither of you saying anything as she breathed in the breath that you exhaled. You weren’t sure whose heart was beating loudly at that moment, it could have been both of you. 

“Do you want to know how they sealed their promise of happiness?” you whispered the question with a flutter of your eyelashes. 

“How?” Ray asked. 

Without saying another word, you simply kissed your princess and took her breath away with one gesture. Underneath the shaded tree of the gardens, you found peace and prosperity with your princess. You wanted to give her everything she could ever dream of and you had gifted that joyful dream into her hands. 

Now, you could only hope that this paradise around you could truly become a place where Ray could be happy… if it wouldn’t, well, you wouldn’t stop until you could protect her heart from being hurt ever again. 

[literaryfic]

Chapters: 1/?
 Fandom: 빈센조 | Vincenzo (TV) 
Rating: Explicit
 Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong/Hong Cha Young
Characters: Hong Cha Young, Vincenzo Cassano | Park Joo Hyeong
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Italian Mafia, (i know nothing about the mafia so this will be very inaccurate!!!), basically vincenzo & cha-young being mafia bosses in italy


Summary: When Vincenzo Cassano came back to Italy, no one expected to see someone by his side. Or how Cha-young and Vincenzo became the head of the Cassano family. a mafia couple au inspired by a discussion with @ourgalaxybangtan @ghostrights & @whovie-reloaded

  Vincenzo had been handling most of the family business since their adoptive father’s health had started to decline. As the consigliere of the Cassano family, he was Fabio’s most trusted man, his advisor, his lawyer but also his second-in-command.

It hadn’t been easy, all these years, to climb the ladder. He wasn’t a native, he wasn’t blood, and so not many people had welcomed him at first. That’s why he had to become ruthless, so that no one could deny his authority or even dare to try. He had killed and tortured many men, broken their minds and their bones, burned their flesh and cut off their limbs, ashes and screams trailing behind him. If he wasn’t proud of the blood on his hands, he was at least proud of his work. All the hours he’d spent training, fighting, preparing, scheming, studying, all his efforts to erase Park Joo-hyung from the face of earth had paid off. The scared, weak little kid was gone, buried with all his other victims. ‘An eye for an eye, and then some’, Vincenzo lived by that, and he would stop at nothing except killing the innocent. There was no doubt he was the best at what he did and anyone who did not respect him feared him enough to not threaten him. His success was the Cassano family’s success, yet he knew that members of his own clan would not hesitate to have him killed if they could. Two clear factions had formed in the past five years, those who supported Vincenzo as the next head of the family, and those who supported Paolo, his brother. Paolo and Vincenzo had never gotten along, and Paolo’s inferiority complex and jealousy grew deeper every time his older brother had to clean up after one of his rushed job. Paolo had a particular taste for violence. Whereas Vincenzo killed and tortured because he had to, Paolo got a kick out of hurting others, be it children, women or elders. He loved to assert his dominance, to feel almighty. Vincenzo didn’t think himself much better than him, (regardless of the reasons behind his murders, he’d probably killed way more than him), but he wanted Paolo to be punished for his sins. It was only a matter of time before some influential family members whispered plans of assassination and of ‘restoring the rightful heir’ into his ear. Paolo was an angry, frustrated man who wasn’t particularly good at his job, an easy puppet to control. He’d been watching them carefully but he knew that as long as his father was alive, no one would dare to touch him. Back then he had thought he would take care of them when it came to it, become the head of his family, and continue to rule the underworld. Then, the incident happened and everything changed. He hadn’t been able to sleep for weeks, his victims’ screams haunting his dreams. He started avoiding mirrors, his reflection taunting him. He barely ate anymore, and Fabio had reminded him to get a grip. So he had done just that. He drank himself to sleep or took sleeping pills, and he went on. He knew, however, that he could not go on like this much longer. He had to get out before he buried himself next to Park Joo-hyung and all the others whose lives he’d taken. He’d started to plan his escape secretly. He would wait until his father died, staying loyal to him as long as he was alive. When the time came, he knew Paolo would try to kill him. The power struggle between them would start as soon as the head of the family would die, but instead of destroying his opponents, Vincenzo would seize the opportunity to leave. He would go back to South Korea, get the gold and leave to an island, where he would spend the rest of his days. The death of his previous Chinese client was perfect timing. As expected, Fabio, his boss and adoptive father, had named him the next head of the family in his will. It came to no surprise to most members, but murmurs spread quickly, “Can you imagine? A foreigner, as the head of our family? What has the world become?”. After wrapping things up in Italy, Vincenzo promised himself to never return, throwing away the key to the graveyard of his sins. …. There’s no going back from this, he thinks. Vincenzo is still holding Cha-young’s face, unable to look away from her lips, still wet from the kiss. Her pink cheeks, her smeared lipstick, the freckles under her fondation. Her. Hong Cha-young. His heart is soaring in his chest, all the emotions he had desperately tried to silence erupting all at once. There was no point in denying it, he had fallen in love with her. All he could do now was break his own heart, hoping it would heal. …. He realises he can’t live without her after she gets injured. They’re trying to get more information on Jang Han-seok’s paper company, and this time they’re trying to prove that some of the transactions made to European bank accounts were bribes. They’re breaking into none other than the Minister of Economy and Finance, Cha Do-won’s house. Miri had made sure to deactivate the security system and cameras, and Vincenzo was in charge of securing the place while Cha-young searched for the secret ledger the Minister kept hidden in his office. Cha Do-won was making a speech right now, and they had assumed most of his personal security would be with him. Vincenzo had quickly incapacitated the few men around the house and Cha-young looked for the ledger. After a few minutes, she found a hidden drawer in his desk. There it was, a thick documents labelled 'Accounts’. Subtlety wasn’t one of his strong points, apparently. They were about to leave when suddenly, a dozen men started to raid the place. Vincenzo fought them off as best as he could, and he was grateful that Mr. Lee barged in to help. They thought they had them all beat, and so Vincenzo made a mistake. He turned his back to the door to look for Cha-young, who he thought was behind him. “Vincenzo!”, he heard her shout his name. He sees her across the room, about to get struck by a man. He rushes to her and knocks him out quick enough. “Oh my God”, she says, “Did you see that? I almost died! He had a knife as well, and I dodged it, and then I ran—”. She keeps rambling while they get out of the house and into their car, clearly in shock. She’s getting paler as time passes, and he only notices the blood that pooled on the seat when she tries to get out of the car. She was stabbed, but the shock and adrenaline had prevented her from feeling any pain. “Oh”, she says, looking down at her wound. Vincenzo jumps out of his seat and rips the bottom half of the T-Shirt he’s wearing. “I don’t think now’s the time for that, Darling.” Even in a life-threatening situation, Cha-young is joking around. Vincenzo’s mind stops, he feels paralysed by fear, the fear of losing her, of her dying in his car, because of him. He pushes those thoughts away as he holds the fabric to her wound. “Hold this, as hard as you can.” The rest of the car ride to the hospital is a blur of running red lights, speeding in between traffic and repeating “Hong Cha-young, stay with me.” Vincenzo had faced death everyday for the last 20 years. He had killed, had seen people kill and had almost died countless of time. “There’s no limit to fear”, he’d once said to Jang Han-seok’s informant. Only now, waiting for Cha-young’s surgery to be over, does he understand what those words truly mean. During 6 hours, Vincenzo pleads and begs God, the devil, anyone willing to listen (Don’t take her. Everyone but her). He makes empty promises (I’ll do anything. I’ll stop hurting others, I’ll disappear from her life) and meaningless threats (Don’t you dare take her. I’ll kill you, too). In the end he doesn’t know who answers his prayers, and what promises seals the deal, but Cha-young wakes up and he doesn’t care. He holds her hand, stays by her side, and vows to never leave her. He starts to plan for an escape route shortly after that. In case they can’t stay in South Korea and need to take off. First, he thinks of Malta, or another island. But they would need to go somewhere they have allies, somewhere with an easy access to emergency money and resources. Italy. He contacts Luca and sets everything up, a two bed-room apartment, two bank accounts, and everything they could ever need like cash, some guns, and a car. “Consigliere, will there be another person with you?”, Luca asks. “Hopefully it won’t come to that”, he avoids the question. He knows he promised not to come back, but some promises need to be broken out of necessity. He needed to make Cha-young was safe, at all cost. His brother’s betrayal had made it easier. He’d been caught in the crossfire of their fight against Babel, killed by Choi Myung-hee in order to frame Vincenzo. But they had proved his innocence, and sent back his corpse in Milan. After Fabio’s death, Paolo hadn’t been the best replacement, and after he was killed in South Korea, they’d put in charge one of their cousins who had neither Fabio’s experience, nor Vincenzo’s mastermind. The family was in a crisis, which didn’t go unnoticed by their rivals. Soon, business started to slow down, their clients stolen by the competition and their allies started to switch teams. Money ran low. For that reason, Vincenzo didn’t run into much opposition when he came back. Most members and people in their business thought he had killed Paolo after he’d unreasonably followed him to South Korea and tried to finish him. Paolo only left disappointment and resentment behind him, and so no one missed him much. What they had not expected, however, was for Vincenzo Cassano to come back with someone.

[peaches-writes]

not-so-secret santa

skz of christmas day 7: exchange gift with minho

member: minho  wc: 1.7k genre: fluff, childhood friends to lovers au, college au, a side of established relationship au warning: explicit language, threatening (?) note: this is me channeling all of my younger self’s christmas frustrations into a short fic lmao 

christmas 2006 

“Minho, who did you pick?” Your Homeroom teacher at the time, Ms. Yang, asked your classmate next to keep the Secret Santa chain going. The previous exchange was from Chan to Mina but since Mina already received her gift from Bam Bam, your teacher naturally picked Minho who was sitting right next to Chan. 

Next to you, said boy then handed you the red and green-wrapped rectangle in his hands. “Merry Christmas, Y/N!” He greeted you as per Mrs. Yang’s instructions when someone will give their Secret Santa present, a mischievous smile on his face. “Enjoy!” 

Your excited smile immediately fell into an angry frown as the hard rectangle is then placed on your lap. “All this time...” You pouted at Minho then, carefully picking up the gift in your hands. “You even bought this with me and you didn’t even bother making an effort!” 

The entire class looked at you inquisitively but, in the moment, you didn’t really care. You already knew that the empty picture frame Minho thought was a genius idea to gift for the Secret Santa as a prank was inside the wrapping you held, you’d know because your respective moms took you on the same shopping trip where he got it. 

Minho was not yet your best friend at the time but you were so childishly angry at that point that you didn’t hesitate on hitting him with the picture frame. “Ugh, Lee Minho, I hate you!” 

Minho’s mom ended up buying you lunch after. 

christmas 2011

“Ooh, I can’t wait to see who Minho picked for the Secret Santa.” Chan excitedly rubbed his palms together next to you, earning him a glare from you at hearing his tone of voice.

“I can’t wait to laugh if it’s you.” You deadpanned, making him chuckle.

“Ya, what’s with the death glare? I wasn’t teasing you!” He then held his hands up in defense but your glare is unwavering. “Well, not directly, at least.”

You only scoffed in response, turning your attention back to this class Christmas party’s MC, Seungkwan, who’s now, as if on cue, called onto your best friend to give away his Secret Santa gift.

“Y/N!” Minho then called for you, making yours and Chan’s eyes widen from across your large class circle. He held up the red package in his hand, the one he made you wrap yourself the night before as punishment for losing in a sleepover game, then exclaimed, “Catch!”

You weren’t given much time to process his words before the package is flung at you, landing just in front of the accumulating stack of gifts right in front of you from your other friends.

The entire class gasped before falling silent, collectively having a flashback of your 2nd grade fight with Minho over the same thing. Everyone (Chan mostly), just hoped that Minho got you something better than the empty picture frame.

But by the way your ears started to fume and you immediately stood up to tackle Minho said otherwise.

“Lee Minho, have you ever had a white T-shirt shoved in your mouth?!” You threatened as you approached him with the ‘gift’ he prepared for your Secret Santa.

Luckily, Chan was strong enough by then to hold you back.

Minho ended up (reluctantly) buying you dinner to 'compensate.’

christmas 2016

“What number did you get?” Minho asked you, resting his chin on your shoulder to peer at the folded piece of paper in your hands after. “Oh, number 10! Awesome, that’s from me!” 

It’s the one year you didn’t get to go Christmas shopping with him because you caught a fever and the class Secret Santa’s been experimentally switched out for the White Elephant game and you still somehow ended up with his present. You groaned and pulled yourself away from Minho, turning around to face him. “What is it this time, Minho?” 

“It’s something useful this time, I promise!” He swore with a hand raised on his side, going over his chest to form a cross after. 

And Minho really thought he was doing something buying a mug for you with his face printed on it. 

“See?” The boy pointed out after the gifts have been distributed. You didn’t pounce on him immediately this time since the mug could easily break. Instead, you waited until his mom picked the two of you up until you punched his arm. “It even changes to another face when you pour hot water on it!” 

To prove it to you, he barged into your home on Christmas Day and made you hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. The photo of him with a heart eyes filter on the mug changed into him with a Godzilla filter. 

christmas 2020  

“Put your seatbelt on, brat.” You instruct your boyfriend as you expertly twist the ignition on your right, bringing the SUV’s engine to life. Next to you, Minho chuckles as he puts his seatbelt on, leaning back on the red-covered seats leisurely. “I don’t want you dying before we get to the Christmas Sale.” 

“It’s not like the flea market is on the other side of the country.” He scoffs playfully, laughing even more when you hit him on the shoulder as you place your hand on his headrest while backing the car out of your house’s garage. 

“It will be when I throw you across the city if you show me something weird for the exchange gift.” You glare. “This is our first Christmas as a couple and you’re already on thin ice.”

“Oh, boo, I’m so scared.” He rolls his eyes. Opening the car’s glove compartment, he takes out the picture frame he got you from the 2nd grade. It’s supposed to fit the shallow dip on the dashboard but you broke its back support some time ago. “And I don’t give weird gifts for the Secret Santa. Look, you still have a photo of us on the picture frame.” 

You glance over his side, sighing in exasperation. “Because my mom said I should at least use it, doesn’t mean I actually like it.” 

“You’re wearing the white shirt too.” He points out next. “Basics are in these days, I was ahead of my time back in high school.” 

“If you’ll get me a face towel this year—Secret Santa or not—I will actually murder you in front of all our friends this time.” 

“That’s hot, babe, I’d like to see you try.” 

- 

Minho happily links his free arm with yours as you navigate your way through the tight crowd of last-minute shoppers, his other hand carrying half of your eco bags. Throughout this two-hour trip, he’s shown you countless of weird things on sale as gifts for his friends—from plastic cereal cups that he’ll give to Felix to an actual set of face towels he plans on giving Jisung—but he’s yet to show you what he’s planning to gift you. 

Or maybe he already has and just showed it to you under the bluff that he’ll give it to someone else like he did in all those times before. 

“Min, we’ve been walking for ten minutes,” You protest as you begrudgingly drag your feet to wherever he’s taking you. Your own arms are about to fall off with your own share of eco bags and the fact that your wallet’s currently a mess with the amount of fast transactions you needed to make is starting to bother you. “Where are we going?” 

“We’re almost there, promise!” He assures you with a grin, tugging you closer to his side before you could bump into an old lady walking from the opposite direction. “We’re getting your gift now so be a little patient!” 

“Or maybe you’re fucking with me again.” You grumble, making him laugh and shake his head. 

“Nope, this one’s only for you.” He assures, pulling you to the right when you reach an intersection. “You’ll see why.” 

You only stop walking five minutes later, when Minho drags you to a stall selling pre-order snow globes. The stall owner, a buff middle-aged man, greets Minho and hands him the biggest snow globe on sale in exchange for the money he’s set aside. 

“Ah, and this is the person with you on the picture?” The man then asks him once he’s finished paying, turning to you with a polite smile. “You two are adorable! How long now?” 

“W-What?!” You stare back incredulously, processing way too slow for the situation.

Clearly, it hasn’t been long since you and Minho started dating, by the way you’re immediately flustered.

“Just a little over six months!” Minho proudly beams, on the other hand, the man laughs wholeheartedly at this.

“Aah, young love.” The stall owner chuckles. Turning to you, he then gestures to the snow glob and adds, “Your boy’s very sweet!” 

Only then do you glance down on the snow globe in front of Minho. It has two dolls resembling the two of you surrounded by cats patterned to Minho’s pets and little buildings resembling your most frequented places: the school you went to until high school, the universities you’re currently attending, the library where you spend most of your all-nighters, the hotel you stayed at on your first trip, and this particular flea market you always shop Christmas gifts at. 

There’s also the new movie house on the side but, from what you can remember, you haven’t been there yet. 

“Is this good enough for you? For a first Christmas at least?” Minho asks with a coy smile, nudging your side and effectively taking you out of your thoughts. He then holds up the snow globe to you, shaking it gently before placing it on your much freer hand. “If you check one side of the globe, there’s the movie house you wanted to visit. I was thinking we could watch a movie right after the Christmas party but, you know, just us.” 

You gush at the snow globe, squinting your eyes when you have to glance up at Minho again. “And you’re sure this is mine?” 

“It has your name engraved on the bottom, dumbass.” He points out for you, making your eyes widen momentarily. “And it has my name on it too. Put two and two together now.” 

“We’re sharing?” 

“No, babe, I’m trying to ask you out on a date!” 

-

december 23 (bang chan)

skz of christmas (masterlist) 

m.list

@skzwriternet

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 21

A/N:  I’ve always wanted to write a super-tropey scene like the bar scene in this so I went ahead and did it and I LOVE IT, OKAY?!  Also, if you haven’t seen, I posted Part 3 of my Elias story last Thursday.  It’s linked on my Masterlist!

Also, just a quick note that I will be returning to a full-time job after Labour Day today.  I have enough chapters written out that I don’t think I will have to skip a week of posting, and I organize my time wisely so that I still give myself time to write, but this is just a PSA/FYI that I may not get to your asks/canon questions super quickly like I have been over quarantine.  They will still ALL be answered, though, so don’t worry about that!

Anyways, enjoy this! 

February 18th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was dejected.  

The Leafs had lost their last two games, but these felt different.  They’d lost to Buffalo on Sunday 5-2, and Buffalo was one of the worst teams in the league.  It didn’t even matter that there were a majority of Leaf fans in the building.  Now, tonight, they’d just lost 5-2 again, but this time to Pittsburgh.  She couldn’t keep her eyes off her phone, with tweet upon tweet upon tweet calling this the worst game of the season for the team.  Just an absolutely awful game.  No effort.  No heart.  No soul.  One that they would have to answer for at home, since they faced them again on Thursday, but this time at home.  She didn’t even like hockey and she was taking everything to heart because, well – she was part of the team now.  Everybody had told her that since day one.  And now, at one of the lowest points in the season, she felt that.

She couldn’t stop scrolling.  Couldn’t stop reading what everybody was saying.

It was Tyson who had volunteered to drive her home tonight.  Ever since Morgan broke his ankle, it was a rotation of Tyson or John.  When Emma picked up Tyson, she was just as nice, but she missed Bee.  She missed seeing the way Morgan looked at Bee when they were in the car, because it reminded her of how William looked at her when they were alone.

Aberdeen shuffled into the backseat of Tyson’s SUV.  Tyson was in the driver’s seat, and Emma was the passenger.  Everyone was silent as Tyson began driving into the city – she and Emma could tell he was dejected and mad at the game that had transpired just a few hours ago.  The short flight did nothing to quell his emotions.  And as Emma laid her hand on his on the gearshift, Aberdeen watched as she moved her thumb back and forth, trying to tell him that it was all okay.

“Tys…it’s not your fault,” Emma said softly, finally, after what felt like a lifetime of silence.  

“Em—”

“Tyson, listen to me.”

“—Emma, please, not right now—”

His eyes flashed to hers through the rear view mirror, but Emma wouldn’t listen to him.  “I know it and you know it too.  The whole defence is flawed.  Plus, you guys are missing Mo.  It’s not just you and you know that��”

“—Emma, I really don’t want to talk about it right now—”

“—and besides, if – or should I say when – you’re traded at the deadline, none of this will matter,” she dropped a bombshell.  “Everyone knows you’re unhappy and it’s not working out and that you’re much better suited to play somewhere else.”

Aberdeen felt her body stiffen at the revelation.  So Tyson was unhappy.  Unhappy with playing on the Leafs.  She knew he wasn’t having the best season, especially considering how successful he’d been in Colorado, but she didn’t think it was that bad.  He’d gotten better when Sheldon came in, but apparently that wasn’t enough.  It wasn’t enough to make him happy.  And in Aberdeen’s life, happiness was important.  It was almost paramount.  What you did and who you surrounded yourself with and your work should, ultimately, make you happy.  Was it the same in hockey?  Were hockey players allowed to be happy?  Were hockey players on the Toronto Maple Leafs allowed to be happy?  Or was everything just a business transaction?  A long road to the ultimate success of lifting the Stanley Cup, regardless of who got hurt along the way?

Tyson let out a long sigh as he continued to drive, choosing not to answer his girlfriend or say anything else.  When they got off the Gardiner and into downtown, Aberdeen was almost desperate to get out.  She felt very awkward.  Clearly Emma and Tyson wanted, needed to have a conversation, and she was stopping that from happening.  Just by being in the backseat.  She almost wanted to just tuck and roll out of the car.  Tyson could return her suitcase later.  She really didn’t care at this point.  

When he pulled up outside her condo building, Aberdeen almost didn’t want until he stopped the car and put it in park to click her seatbelt off.  “Hey Aberdeen,” Tyson looked at her through the rear view mirror.  She paused all her movements to stare back at him through the mirror.  “I uh…I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention to Brendan, uh, you know…what you heard…” he trailed off.

Aberdeen stared back at him doe-eyed.  She shook her head slightly.  “I don’t…I don’t tell Brendan about anything I find out about you guys.  I mean I would never…” she said softly, trailing off too.

Tyson nodded, smiling slightly.  “Thanks, Aberdeen.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem.”

When she got out of the car, Tyson popped the trunk so she could get her bag.  After one last thank you, a polite wave, and a push of the button to get it to close, she walked into her condo building.  She nodded towards the security guard before walking towards the elevators.

She wondered if William felt that same way when he played last year.

***

February 20th, 2020

“Get ‘em!” Aberdeen growled as she looked down onto the ice.  “Get ‘em!!!”

Brendan chuckled as he watched Aberdeen, her hands balled up in fists as she practically hung over the box.  He’d never seen her so into a hockey game before, and he didn’t know what had gotten into her.  “You alright, Aberdeen?”

“Get ‘em!”

He got a kick out of it.  Kyle, too, was doing one of those silent chuckles and getting redder by the second.  “Aberdeen, you’re going to blow your heart out.  We’re gonna need to put you on meds,” Brendan commented.  “You gotta remember that you’re staying until the proofs get here.  You can’t waste all your energy now.”

Aberdeen calmed down a bit, but she was still on the edge of her seat.  “Sorry,” she said.  She knew she was maybe taking it a bit overboard, but she couldn’t help it.  After the awful game against the Penguins on Tuesday, the Leafs were dominating them right now.  Freddie was playing phenomenally, Jake Muzzin had just scored to put them up 1-0, and they were getting really good chances.  It’s like the team did a complete 180 from what they were.  She also knew, though, that she needed to stay at the arena later tonight, because the final proofs for the St. Pats jerseys were coming and she was the one who had to sign for them and place them safely and securely in Brendan’s office to see tomorrow.  She didn’t know how long she’d be up tonight, and she’d need to conserve energy.  

“Don’t apologize.  I just don’t want you to have a heart attack,” Brendan smiled. 

With the Leafs on a powerplay, Aberdeen was like a hawk following the puck.  With Tavares, Matthews, and Nylander on the ice, she was praying for a goal.  And then—

“YES!!!!!” she screamed as William scored a beautiful goal, jumping up in her seat and throwing her fist in the air like she was Bender at the end of The Breakfast Club.  From beside her, Brendan and Kyle stayed unnaturally calm.  Aberdeen looked over at them and tried to settle back into her seat calmly.  “Sorry.  Again,” she said, gripping the armrests of her chair.  “But how can you guys be so calm?!”

“You get used to it,” Brendan smiled.

“Well, maybe you do, Mr. Hockey Player,” Aberdeen joked.

“Especially when the camera is on you,” Kyle added.

Aberdeen’s face dropped.  “Oh my God, I’m not on camera, am I?!”

Kyle shook his head, his smile spreading from ear to ear.  “We’ll have to see, Aberdeen, but I don’t think so.”

The Leafs dominated the rest of game.  Kasperi scored another goal only three minutes after William, and Zach scored in the third to make it 4-0.  Freddie got the shutout.  She knew he’d be happy about that, despite his stoic reserve.  As she, Brendan, and Kyle made their way to the locker room, Aberdeen saw the media already speaking to Jake Muzzin.  She knew they’d want to speak with the goal scorers too, and so when she saw William and Kasperi heading to the media room, along with John, Freddie, and Sheldon, she wasn’t surprised.  It was a good game.  Hopefully the media would back down a bit.  

She congratulated the guys and stood on the sidelines as Brendan and Kyle spoke to some of them once the media left.  By that point, some of them were dressed and ready to head home.  “Hey, you want a ride?” Jason offered as he approached her, tightening his tie around his neck.

“Oh, I’m staying back, actually,” Aberdeen informed him.  He looked at her skeptically.  “The final proofs are coming in for your St. Pats jerseys in March and I have to receive them and put them in Brendan’s office under lock and key.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed.  “Well, I can wait with you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Aberdeen, it’s fine.  We can grab a bite to eat afterwards.”

“Jason, I might be here until, like, eleven.”

“So we’ll have an authentic Italian-style dinner then.  All the more reason since I miss my motherland.”

“Jason—”

“Aberdeen, are you really going to say no me?”

She glared at him.  It was like St. John’s all over again.  Before she could open her mouth and say something else, another voice interrupted her.  “Why’re you giving Jason the stink eye?” William asked as he approached them.

“I’m gonna wait with Aberdeen until the proofs come and then we’re gonna grab dinner.  You in?” he asked William, but everybody already knew the answer.

William shrugged his shoulders casually, like Jason hadn’t just invited him to dinner with his own girlfriend.  “I’m in.”

Aberdeen rolled her eyes.  “You two are insufferable.”

“I like to think it’s part of our charm,” Jason smiled.  “Let me call Jen and then we can go trash Brendan’s office.”

*** It was about 10:45 when Aberdeen, Jason, and William ended up at a small bar none of them had ever been to that served small pub-style plates.  It was crowded, for some reason, even though it was a Thursday.  Aberdeen quickly learned, judging by the drink specials, that it was their grand opening weekend, and tonight was their first official night open.  Opening on a Thursday meant pandering to the university crowd for sure (whose pub nights usually took place on Thursdays), but this place was pretty full with an older, gruffier clientele that were seated at the bar and congregated in small groups around the open space in the centre of the room, away from the few booths against the wall.  She wondered if they marketed the place wrongly, or if they just wanted to fill the place so they could say they had a successful opening.  

It was a bit loud, but she, Jason, and William ate their late dinner in relative peace.  They spoke about the game only for a little bit before they moved on to other topics, making it abundantly clear to Aberdeen that they didn’t want to discuss hockey at all.  The food was fine, and so, too, were the beers William and Jason had, but Aberdeen’s Long Island Iced Tea had way too much rum in it so she couldn’t finish.  

By the time they finished, it was almost midnight and Aberdeen was starting to feel her fatigue.  They were told to pay at the bar, so they gathered their jackets.  Aberdeen insisted on paying for her meal, ever going so far as to run up to the bar herself, inching between some patrons in order to pay, before William or Jason could even get out of the booth.  William, however, was right behind her, ready to Jason’s meal on his card.

“H—Hey!  Hey!  Look what we have here!  Y-You’re Wiiiilliam Nylander,” a guy, older and very clearly inebriated, slurred out as he laid his eyes on them.

“That’s me,” William gave a tight-lipped smile, standing just slight behind Aberdeen, waiting his turn to pay.

The drunk guy focused his attention on Jason now.  “You.  Spezza.”

“Yup.”

He turned back towards William, shaking his head.  “Teams like this can’t win the Cup.  Esp-p-ecially not with this guy around.”

That caught Aberdeen’s attention.  She furrowed her brows as the friend of the guy, obviously just as drunk, nodded his head in agreement.  “Don’t have the heart like Dougie or Wendel.  All a bunch of pussies now.  Especially you.”

Aberdeen pulled her card out of the reader dramatically, turning her body so she could face them head on.  “What the hell is your problem?  There’s no need to be rude,” she said, her voice loud and firm.

“Aberdeen, stop it,” William said loud enough for her to hear.

“Y-Y-Yyyyou shoulda just sssigned the contract, man,” the drunk man grumbled out.  

Aberdeen tried again, ignoring William’s plea.  “Sir, this isn’t the time or place,” she intervened, but William’s hands went straight to her waist to move her out of his way so she wasn’t standing in between them anymore.  

Suddenly, it was William closer to the drunk man that Aberdeen.  The drunk guy apparently didn’t like that very much.  “You’re damn – you’re damn selfish!  Ssssselfish and greedyyyy,” the man continued to slur drunkenly.  “Seeeelfish, no good—”

“Sir—” Aberdeen showed up beside William, refusing to stand behind him.

“I oughta hurt you like you hurt the fffranchise.”

Aberdeen’s eyes widened.  That was a threat if she ever heard one, and even though he was drunk, Aberdeen didn’t like the tone of his voice.  “Okay sir,” she chastised.  “You need to stop overreacting.  We’re just here trying to pay for our meal.  This is no time to be a dick.”

“You know what?  Let’s just pay at the other end of the bar,” Jason said, trying to diffuse the situation as much as possible.  He even started to herd William and Aberdeen away from the drunk man and down the opposite end of the bar.  “You have fun with whatever whiskey you’re drinking,” he gave one last look to the man before walking away himself.

“Fuckin’ pussy!” the friend yelled loudly at William, already half way down the bar now.

Aberdeen looked back.  William had grabbed her wrist and was dragging her through the crowd so she’d get to the other side with him.  She watched as one of them slammed his glass down on the bar dramatically.  “Willy—”

“Ignore them, Aberdeen.”

“Yeeeeeah, fuckin’ pussy!  Fuckin’ lowlife!  Worst Leaf on the team!  Shoulda traded you back to Sweden, ya Swedish piece of shit!”

The men continued to yell obscenities and taunt William as they stood at the other end of the bar.  Aberdeen stared at William as he stuck his credit card into the machine, quickly punching in his pin.  “Does that happen often?” Aberdeen asked him.

“Aberdeen, don’t,” he shook his head, refusing to answer her as he pulled his card out of the machine and stuffed it back into his wallet.  It was as if he didn’t want her to know; as if he wanted to protect her from learning just how awful some “fans” could be – at least to him.

“Did you pay?” Jason showed up beside them.  William nodded.  “Alright, then let’s get the hell out of here,” he ordered, herding them again to lead them out.

It all happened so fast that Aberdeen didn’t really know exactly that – what happened.  All she knew was that she heard the guy yell from down the bar.  Then she heard the breaking of glass (commonplace in bars, really) and someone else yell “Put it down!” as she, Jason, and William continued towards the door.  Then another voice screamed “Watch out!” and she, Jason, and William turned their heads to look behind them.

Then it hit her.

Literally.

A glass had been thrown – obviously by one of the drunk men who had been harassing them – intended for William, but it hit Aberdeen right on the forehead instead.  She staggered backwards but didn’t fall.  As she brought her hand up to assess the damage, she could almost immediately feel blood dripping down the side of her eye.  

“Aberdeen!” Jason screamed.

William looked over and saw the blood on Aberdeen’s hand and it dripping down the side of her face.  His eyes filled with anger.  Jason, who was still looking at Aberdeen, saw the look she was giving William.  He whipped his head towards William, who appeared ready to murder everybody in the room.  “Will—William—” Jason tried to get his attention, but to no avail.

“Ohmygodareoyouokaaaaay?!” voices began to ask as they huddled around Aberdeen, William, and Jason worriedly, forming a protective circle around them.  There were so many people, so concerned and so loud asking if she was okay that Aberdeen couldn’t even respond – she was too overwhelmed and too confused to even comprehend what was going on.

That’s when the two men ran out.  When most of the people in the bar were distracted trying to see if Aberdeen was okay, the men had the wherewithal to completely book it out of the bar with nobody stopping them.  It was only William who noticed, screaming out a loud “HEY!” to try and get somebody’s attention to stop them, but nobody moved enough for him to get out of the scrum around Aberdeen to chase him.  William focused his attention back on Aberdeen even though he could feel his cheeks flush red with anger and tears forming in his eyes.  She was still holding the area above her eyebrow cautiously as the bartender waved her over.  Jason and William led her towards the bar, making sure she didn’t step on any of the shattered glass that now littered the floor.  The bartender was already opening the first aid kit.  William heard Jason tell everyone “It’s fine, it’s fine, we don’t need your help, it’s alright, we’ll handle it, we’ll handle it.”

Aberdeen was offered a bar stool to sit on, but she turned it down.  She didn’t want to be on display for everyone to see; she was already embarrassed enough as is.  “You wanna go into a washroom?” the bartender asked, and Aberdeen nodded her head.  He led them to the wheelchair bathroom, since there would be space for all of them, and ushered them in.  “The emergency rooms are just up the street.  They’ll do stitches.”

William glared at the bartender.  “Aren’t you even gonna call a paramedic or something?  What about the cops?” he demanded, his voice shaking from the anger he was still feeling.  “Can we look at security cameras to get a face?”

“Bro, we don’t want cops or paramedics here opening night.  That would kill us,” the bartender said.  William couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  “We don’t have cameras installed yet, either.  Just clean it up and take it to emerge.  It’s, like, two blocks north.”

William felt like punching the bartender square in the jaw.  And he would have, too, for being so insensitive about it, if it wasn’t for Jason opening the first aid box loudly against the counter.  Jason, for his part, glared at the bartender too.  “You can leave now,” he growled, focusing his attention back on finding what he needed within the kit.  “Useless piece of shit,” he mumbled under his breath.

Aberdeen sat on the toilet, trying to collect her thoughts and emotions.  She’d gotten hit with a fucking flying glass in the middle of a bar.  A glass seemingly intended for Willy, thrown by a drunk guy, but it had hit her.  She couldn’t believe what had just happened.  She was sure her hand was covered in blood at this point; she didn’t even want to know what her face looked like.  “Did I get busted open?” she asked, even though she was well aware of the answer.  She needed someone else to confirm it so this all felt real and not like a nightmare.

“Yeah,” Jason said softly.  “Listen, if that dipshit isn’t gonna call the cops or paramedics, I want to clean it before we go to the walk-in.  Your face has a lot of blood on it.”

Aberdeen nodded her head slightly.  There was nothing else she could do, really.  It wasn’t like she was going to reject any medical attention, from Jason or otherwise.  “Is it gonna hurt?” she asked.

“Of course it’ll hurt, but I don’t want any of the blood to crust and dry,” he said. 

“Am I gonna need stitches?  I’ve never gotten stitches before.”

“Move your hand a bit and let me see,” Jason said.  She moved her hand the slightest bit, too scared to move it anymore out of fear that blood would gush out like some Halloween decoration, and Jason looked up close.  “Yeah, probably,” he deadpanned.  William winced at the thought.

“Oh, Jesus.  Is it gonna scar?”

“No.  Not deep enough to scar.  At least not to me,” he said.  She trusted him, if only because he was a father of four and had been around the block a few times.  He cleaned her face as much as he could of the blood that had streamed down.  She watched as he got some alcohol and put it onto a pad, prepped a sterile gauze, and whatever else he needed.    Now, are you ready?” he asked.  

“I guess so,” Aberdeen braced herself.  She took her hand off the injury, relieved that no blood gushed onto Jason’s shirt.  “On three, okay?” she asked.  Jason nodded his head.  She began to count.  “One…two—”

She let out a guttural scream as Jason put the rubbing alcohol on her early so she wouldn’t wince away.  It fucking stung.  The sound that escaped her made Will’s heart drop into the pit of his stomach.  He never wanted to hear it again.  When he looked over, she was writhing on the toilet seat.  Even Jason’s face was pained at her screams, but he was doing what he needed to do.  After doing as much as he could, he took one last look at it before putting the sterile gauze on it, grabbing Aberdeen’s hand to hold it against the cut.  

“You ready to go to emerge?” Jason asked.

Tears had streamed down her face at this point.  She didn’t have a good tolerance for pain.  She nodded her head.  “Let’s go.”

***

It was just past two in the morning before an emergency room doctor saw Aberdeen.  Jason had called Jen to let her know what happened and let her know that he was going to be extra late, and William…well, William was silent.  He was still red with rage as they sat in the emergency room, with Jason and Aberdeen making conversation, but he was silent.  Truthfully, all Aberdeen wanted to do was hug him, hold his hand, and nestle into him, but she couldn’t.  It would have made things a hundred times better, but Jason being there meant that it was impossible.  She noticed William’s silence from the moment they were in the washroom at the awful place and Jason had cleaned the wound.  She was hoping that he wasn’t blaming himself.

“So, Miss Bloom, what happened here?” Dr. Behari asked as she sat on the gurney, Jason and William standing near her with their arms crossed.  

“Some guy at a bar threw a glass and it hit me,” Aberdeen explained simply.  “I think I’m going to need stitches.”

The doctor nodded, then looked towards Jason and William.  “And you’re her bodyguards?” he joked.

Jason smiled, but William didn’t.  “Friends,” Jason said.  “I cleaned it up a bit with rubbing alcohol at the bar, doctor.  I – It was the only thing I could think to do.”

The doctor nodded, stepping closer towards Aberdeen.  “Let me take a look, Miss Bloom, and I can clean it and see if you need stitches.”  Aberdeen took her hand and the gauze off the cut and the doctor put on his gloves.  “Aallllllright…” he mumbled as he checked it, Aberdeen wincing in pain slightly as he pressed down on it.  “You’ve got no residual glass in it, which is great.  All we have to do is clean it up and give you some stitches.”

The thought of stitches made Aberdeen a bit woozy.  She tried not to think about what they’d have to do.  “Is it a deep cut?  Like is it gonna scar?” she asked.

“Not a deep cut at all,” the doctor shook his head.  “I’m only putting it one layer of stitches.  You’ll probably have the slightest scar once it’s all healed but it’s easily covered with makeup, and due to placement, it won’t be too noticeable.”  Suddenly, the curtain that blocked off the room opened, and some supplies and medical equipment were ushered in.  Jason and William looked to see everything that Dr. Behari would need laid out on the tray.  “Ah!  Here we go.  Have you ever received stitches before, Miss Bloom?”

“No sir.”

“Think of it as me putting this beautiful masterpiece of a face back together,” he joked, causing Aberdeen and Jason to laugh.  William still wasn’t laughing, and Jason took notice.  

“You’re great, Doctor Behari,” Aberdeen giggled.  “I’m gonna get a scar like a real hockey player now.”

“Ahhhhh, so you guys are hockey players, huh?” he gestured towards Jason and William.  “I’ve stitched up a bad hockey injury once or twice in my day.”

Dr. Behari continued with what he needed to do, cleaning up the wound and making sure everything was well and prepped for the stitches.  The second he picked up the needle filled with lidocaine though, to numb the area so Aberdeen wouldn’t feel the stitches as much, William became more visibly upset.  For the last two hours he looked like he was about to cry, and now he just looked extremely pained, distressed at the thought of what Aberdeen had to go through.

It took Jason intervening for William to stop thinking over and over about when the glass met Aberdeen’s head; the look in her eyes and the blood on her face as she tried to stop the bleeding with her hand.  “Will, can you breathe for me?” he mumbled, Aberdeen and Dr. Behari too deep in a conversation to hear them.

William started shaking his head.  “He needs to be arrested.  He needs to be charged with assault.  We need to find him,” his voice was still trembling.  

“Will, we’re not gonna find him.  He ran off,” Jason tried to reason with him.  “There aren’t even any cameras we can check – the manager said.  We just have to let it go.”

“No.  That’s not good enough,” William was persistent.  “We need to—”

“Listen to me,” Jason said in a low voice, grabbing William’s forearm and turning him away from Aberdeen and the doctor.  They stood right in between the hallway and the curtain sectioning off the room.  “I understand this is personal for you because it’s Aberdeen, but you need to be level-headed right now, because as much as the doctor is making her laugh, she’s gonna see the stitches and probably get scared.  And she’s going to be looking at you to help calm her down and tell her it will be alright.”

William stopped breathing during the first part of Jason’s sentence.  He furrowed his brows, trying to brush it off, and brush off what Jason was implying.  “I don’t know what you mean about this being personal for me—”

“Will, come on,” Jason interrupted him.  “I’m too old to be fucked with.  We all see the way that you look at her and we know you have the biggest crush imaginable on her.  It’s not like it’s a fucking secret.”

“H—How do I look at her?”

“She’s the only person you ever see, Will,” Jason deadpanned.  “But…beyond that.  You have to remember Brendan’s gonna be asking questions tomorrow at the office.  I’ll handle a majority of that but he’s going to want the story from you too and you better be on your best behaviour or else he’ll figure out your little crush and Aberdeen will be fucked.  Do you understand?”

William couldn’t look Jason in the eye anymore.  He bit down on his bottom lip nervously, knowing that he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.  “I think he already knows…” he mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“I think…Brendan already knows about the crush.  At the Christmas party out on the ice I guess he caught me looking and he told me she can’t do anything with me until she leaves, and more importantly, I can’t do anything with her.”

Jason looked like he’d seen a ghost.  “And?”

“And what?”

“Are you doing anything with her?”

Here it was.  William’s first opportunity to lie outright to a teammate, a friend, a colleague, a guy that he looked up to immensely.  Aberdeen had had to do it with Siena, now he’d have to do it with Jason.  His girlfriend was a mere fifteen feet away and he had to deny that anything was going on.  “What?!  Of course not!” he said angrily.  

“William I swear to fucking God—"

“Nothing is happening,” he stressed.  “Jesus, Jason.  How awful do you think I am?  I wouldn’t do something like that to her.”

“Don’t fuck with me Willy.  She’s got too bright a future for you to—”

“I know that,” William stressed.  “I.  Know.  That.  That’s why nothing has happened.  That’s why it’s stayed a crush.”

“You promise me right here, right now, in the middle of this hospital while she’s getting stitches, that there’s nothing going on between you two, or so help me God, Willy—”

“There’s nothing going on between us,” William said bluntly.  He saw Jason’s face relax slightly, meaning that he was buying it.  “I’ve got my crush and that’s it.  But there’s nothing going on between us.  Nothing.”

“Woohoo!  Boys!” Dr. Behari called out, interrupting their conversation.  “Miss Bloom wants to hold one of your big strong hands just in case she feels anything.  Any takers?”

Jason raised his eyebrows at William and gave him a look.  William gave Jason one last look before walked over, stood next to Aberdeen, and offered his hand.  She grabbed it without hesitation.

Jason watched.

***

February 22nd, 2020

“What in God’s name happened to your eye?” Brendan demanded as he got his first look at Aberdeen Saturday morning.  In the town car, Lou had already commented on it.  Now Brendan got to see it, bright and early in the morning before heading towards the office.

“It’s a long story,” Aberdeen mumbled.

“Well we’ve got a long drive to the office.”

She sighed.  She recounted the events of the previous night to Brendan, from Jason and William agreeing to stay back with her, to them going to dinner, to the rude men, to the bottle throwing.  Brendan looked more and more horrified as time went on, and especially angry when she got to the part with the rude men.  They were essentially targeting one of his players, one of his star players, with assault; instead, that assault ended up hurting his executive assistant.  And when she mentioned the no cameras and the clueless bartender, he got really angry, because there was nothing he could do either.  

“And so, here we are,” Aberdeen finished.  “I’m three days out from my 22nd birthday and one week out from my party and I have a giant scar on my face.”

Brendan could tell by her tone that she wasn’t necessarily upset about it, per se, but that she was more so a bit self-conscious about how it looked.  “It’s not that big,” he said, trying to not make it a big deal.  “The stitches will be out soon anyway.  You don’t want to see some of the scars I’ve gotten.  I mean…” he trailed off, pointing to the one on his top lip and the one on his chin, “yours won’t look as bad as these.  Won’t end up as bad as these either.”

“You don’t think so?”

Brendan shook his head.  “No chance.  It’s only three stitches.  Did you tell your parents?”

“Yeah, we FaceTimed so I could show them.  They don’t want me in bars past sundown now,” she giggled slightly.  “I’m going to have to go to my doctor before we leave for Tampa Bay to see if they can get taken out though.  By then it will have been four days.  The emergency room doctor said it should be okay by then.”

“I’ll call Noah and have him take a look at it once we get to the arena,” he said, referring to Dr. Noah Forman, the team’s head physician.  “I’ll call Jason and Will in, too.  To let me know what happened.”

Aberdeen nodded her head.  It was only logical to talk to them about it to.  William had been the one targeted, after all.  “Are you excited for tonight?” she asked, trying to change the subject.  

Brendan shrugged.  “Last time we faced Carolina it was an…interesting game,” he said.  “How much more interesting can it get?”

***

Aberdeen was absolutely horrified.  Just absolutely fucking horrified at what was transpiring in front of her very eyes.  A complete and utter collapse.  Something that couldn’t be real.  Something she didn’t want to be real.  Something that was affecting her more than she ever thought hockey would.  If Aberdeen thought that Penguins game on Tuesday was bad, this was a hundred times worse.  A thousand.  A million. A billion times worse.

The Leafs were losing to the Hurricanes.  6-3.  And who was in net for the Carolina Hurricanes?  Their emergency backup goalie, who was, somehow, also the Toronto Marlies’ Zamboni driver.  Yes.  The Toronto Maple Leafs were losing to a Zamboni driver.  Their own Zamboni driver.

She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.  

Brendan had already left the box.  He’d asked her not to follow him.  That made her incredibly nervous, because usually when he was upset or disappointed about games, she was still following him like a little puppy.  That wasn’t the case now; he clearly wanted to be alone and alone he would be, wherever he happened to be.  

When the final buzzer rang, Aberdeen felt her heart rate go up even more, because it now meant that she did have to go find him.  She didn’t want to be in the locker room right now.  The team needed to be with their coach, and she didn’t exactly want to hear whatever was going to go down in there.  She wanted to remain willfully ignorant.  So instead, she began walking towards the offices, where a part of her knew Brendan would be.

She was quiet as she walked down the hallway and towards her desk.  She saw Brendan’s door almost closed, and knew he was inside his office.  She gathered her things, grabbed her jacket, and took a deep breath.  

She knocked lightly on his office door.  “Come in,” she heard him say absent-mindedly.  

She pushed the door open slowly.  When she revealed herself in the doorway, Brendan’s eyebrows rose slightly.  He was surprised she’d come and find him.  But he didn’t want her to know that.  Most other personal assistants he’d had usually let him be when he did something like this.  But Aberdeen was different.  “Oh, there you are,” he said, his voice low as he cleared his throat.  There were a few moments of silence as he thought of something to say.  “We need to go over the, uh…the proofs for the St. Pats jerseys,” he held out his hand.

Aberdeen was nervous.  He was a bit too calm for her liking, considering what had just happened.  She knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it exactly, but still.  “Okay.  Um, yeah, sure.  I have it right here,” she said as she began digging through her bag with all the files in it.  There were so many to sort through, and she knew she was taking a while.  

“By all means, move at a glacial pace.  You know how that thrills me,” Brendan said.

She pulled the proofs out of her bag and handed them to him.  He took them, a bit dramatically she thought, and opened them up.  “Okay, so…they’re done.  They can be sent,” he said dismissively, putting his signature at the bottom of every page of proofs.

Aberdeen was shocked, slightly.  There was so much back and forth on them because they had to be perfect and now he’d just signed off on them?  “They…they’re done?  So I don’t need to bring them back to the artist and fetch them back tomorrow?” she began to pull out her iPad so she could change her schedule.  

“Well, if you think the team is worthy of even wearing these jerseys and want to convince me to not just scrap the whole damn idea…then yes, fetch away.  You’re very fetching, so go fetch,” he grumbled out with a resolute emotion of nothingness in his voice.  

Aberdeen stopped her movements.  Okay, so he was affected by what had just happened.  And he was going to let it all out now, in front of her, with no-one else around.  No Kyle.  No Sheldon.  No team.  Nobody but her.  As she continued to stare at him, he couldn’t look her in the eye; he was looking everywhere in his office but her, even though she stood right across his desk from him.  “You’ll need to contact PR, um…Leslie, to see what she can do to minimize the press on all this,” he continued, pursing his lips together, looking out into a void.  “Another humiliating loss splashed across the Toronto Sun.  I can just imagine what they’re going to write about us.  The Toronto Maple Leafs lose to a Zamboni driver who works for them.  The most embarrassing loss yet, and it’s under my watch.  Every newspaper in this city should cut me a check for all the papers I sell for them.”  He shook his head, pausing for a few moments to collect himself, and finally looked at Aberdeen.  “Anyway, I don’t…I don’t really care what anybody writes about me.  But the team.  I just…the team.  It’s just another disappointment…another let down.  Another bad game.  Horrible game.”

Aberdeen didn’t know what to say.  She knew this was Brendan’s version of spilling his guts out to her.  This loss had taken its toll on him – was going to take its toll on everyone in the organization, and he was the guy heading the entire operation.  It all fell on his shoulders.  And Kyle’s.  But he was the overseer of it all.  He put the brunt of the blame on himself – not on the players or the general manager.  “Anyway, the point is…the point is…” he cleared his throat.  Aberdeen could see him visually recollect himself.  “The point is, we really need to get these proofs sent first thing tomorrow morning, because I’d like to see the jerseys before they get sent to the players.”

It was weird to Aberdeen how he could just switch like that – from experiencing the lowest of the low to going back to normal again.  She wondered if it was a hockey thing, because Willy did it too – he would be upset after losses, especially bad ones, but it would quickly become dirt off his shoulder.  She held on to her emotions and feelings much longer than them.  “I’m so sorry, Brendan,” she offered.  She knew there was nothing else she could say to him.  “If you want me to cancel your morning tomorrow, I can.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  Why would we do that?” he asked.

Aberdeen offered a tight-lipped smile.  “Is there anything else I can do?” she asked.

Brendan nodded quickly.  “Your job.”

***

Aberdeen called Siena the moment she was out of the office and walking home.  She’d been okayed to go home by Brendan.  She’d texted Will, but he wasn’t answering, so God knows what was going on in the locker room right now.  She didn’t want to stay at Scotiabank Arena for that very reason.  She just knew it was too much for her to handle.  

She knew it was too much because she was already crying.  Silent tears, but tears nonetheless.  She prayed to God that Siena picked up.

“Hey,” Aberdeen finally heard her voice.  “What’s up?”

“Siena…” Aberdeen’s voice was shaky.  “Siena did you watch the game?”

“No, why?  What’s wrong?”

Aberdeen sniffled.  “I never thought I’d be crying about sports but here I am crying about the Leafs!” she blubbered out.

“Why?  What happened?”

“We just had the most God awful game,” Aberdeen huffed out.  “We lost to our own Zamboni driver.”

There was a pause on Siena’s end.  “Aberdeen, are you drunk?”

“NO!!!” she exclaimed.  “Go check the highlights or whatever.  Go turn on TSN.  It was humiliating.  We’re going to get absolutely roasted.  It’s going to be so bad and—”

“Aberdeen—Aberdeen you need to calm down,” Siena urged on the other end of the phone.  “It’s not your fault, Aberdeen.  And it’s not your problem.  Why are you so upset about it?  It’s not like you’re a part of the team.”

Aberdeen felt a punch to her heart at Siena’s words.  But she was.  Everyone had told her that she was – Brendan, Kyle, the guys, everyone – and she had no reason to think otherwise.  It was hammered into her since the beginning.  For all intents and purposes, she was a member of the team, which is why it hurt her so badly.  Siena didn’t understand that.  Siena didn’t understand how all the traveling together made them closer; how all the guys looked out for her – not in a patronizing way, just…in their own way – like they were her older brothers, especially after what happened at Christmas; how the word family was tossed around so often that Aberdeen really felt that this was a family in its own way, with a bunch of moving parts, often dysfunctional, but a family nonetheless.  Siena didn’t understand any of it.  “Yes I am,” Aberdeen said meekly, offering nothing.  She couldn’t put into words what she’d just thought, and even if she could, Siena, with all her smarts, wouldn’t understand them.  “I am a part of the team.”

“Just sleep on it, alright?  I’m sure everybody is going to forget about it by tomorrow morning,” Siena offered, showing truly just how much she didn’t understand.  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

At that exact moment, a car pulled up on the curb alongside Aberdeen.  When she looked over, she saw William in the driver’s seat.  He was already looking at her.  “Okay, bye,” she ended the call abruptly, stuffing her phone into her coat pocket before approaching and opening the door, slipping into the passenger’s seat easily.

When Aberdeen looked over at William, he immediately noticed her red eyes.  His heart tightened in his chest.  “Why are you crying, minskatt?” he asked.

“How could you not be?” she asked back.

He leaned over the centre console to kiss her.  “Please stop, minskatt.  I can’t stand to see you cry.”

“I don’t know what to feel – what to do – I don’t know what to say to you to make you feel better about this,” she lamented.

“Shhhh shhh shhh,” William kissed her again, bringing his of his hands up to cup her face.  “You don’t need to say anything.”

“Don’t I?”

William shook his head slightly.  “You’re here, aren’t you?” he asked, as if that was enough.  As if that’s all he needed, when really, Aberdeen knew he’d need so much more.  That she would need so much more.  “D’you want to come back to my place?”

Aberdeen looked William in the eye.  He wasn’t asking politely.  He was begging.  She nodded.  “Okay.”

***

Aberdeen was getting scared at how good she was getting at lying.  She’d made up a stupid story about needing to stay late at the arena again for the trade deadline so Kasha would go to bed and not wait up for her.  Kasha bought it.  Aberdeen didn’t even know if she was staying at William’s tonight or if she’d walk into her apartment at three o’clock in the morning again, for the second time in two days.  

(As if William would bring her to his apartment and then tell her to leave in the middle of the night.)

He took her to a tall, glass condo building, only about a ten minute walk from hers but closer to the south core that made him possible to practically walk to all the games if he wanted to.  He held her hand firmly in his once they got out of the car and walked through the parking garage, getting on the elevator.  William pushed the button for one of the top floors.  Of course he’d have a penthouse.  

Aberdeen was still too caught up in her own emotions to realize how big this was – every other encounter had been at her place, and now she was finally seeing his space.  When he opened the door, she was pleasantly surprised at what she was greeted with.  She knew it was rented, and so she half expected it to be kind of dull with no personality, but that wasn’t the case.  There were touches of William everywhere in the apartment – the slight, boyish messiness just adding to it.  Expensive shoes scattered at the entryway.  A few plants that weren’t dead, so she figured they were fake.  A giant, comfy looking couch in the main area with a massive TV that was hooked up to every gaming console known to man.  And pictures.  Lots and lots and lots of pictures everywhere.  All of his family.

She could tell that there was a spare bedroom on one side of the apartment, and she saw a door leading to the master.  William put his keys in the bowl in the middle of the kitchen island, watching her as she looked around his apartment.  “So what do you think?” he asked.

“Do you miss your family on nights like this?  When it’s a really bad game and really embarrassing?” Aberdeen asked, staring at a picture he had of him and him sisters together, holding them all in a giant bear hug as their smiles stretched from ear to ear.

The question caught him completely off guard.  “Of course I do.  I miss them all the time,” he said.

“What do you do on nights like tonight?”

“I sit on my couch and watch TV until I’m not thinking about it anymore,” William admitted.  “Lately I’ve really been meaning to do it with my girlfriend.”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but smile.  Even after a night like tonight, he was still flirting with her.  “Do you have a change of clothes?”

They went into his bedroom – bed messy, but huge; closet overflowing, but orderly; giant floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the other skyscrapers around them – and she changed into a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt that looked Supreme-branded but instead said ‘spaghetti’.  It smelled like him, thoroughly, and the second she put it on she felt like she was being hugged, even though it was about six sizes too big.  They changed together, and when they were done, they made their way back to the living room and William turned on the TV, pulling her towards the big couch.  He made her sit down first before kneeling down between her legs, resting his head on her stomach just beneath her breasts before wrapping his arms around her.  

It was calm.  It was nice.  It was mindless.  William was mindless as he laid there, his arms wrapped around his girlfriend in his clothes, watching TV but not really watching TV.  Aberdeen was mindless as she laid there, running her fingers through William’s hair soothingly, watching TV but not really watching TV.  It was a while before Aberdeen decided to speak again.  “You know, it’s not healthy to not talk about it,” she said.  

She felt William sigh.  “You know I’m not good with words, minskatt.”

“Oh, I think that’s a lie.  You’re great with words,” she said.

“No I’m not.”

“William, every author in the English language wishes they came up with the words, ‘I think about you when I’m not even thinking’, including me,” she countered.

William couldn’t help but smile.  “Those words are only for you,” he said.

“I know,” she said, “but can you please give me some other words so I know that you’re okay?  Because I’m worried.”

The fact that he was making her worried made him compelled to talk.  That was the last thing he wanted.  “I just…I just know that we’re never going to hear the end of it.  And I hate that.  I hate that it’s gonna be the big joke now.  Because hockey isn’t a joke to me.  Neither is the Leafs.”  He paused and Aberdeen was silent, and he knew that silence was urging him to continue.  “It happened because…it happened because they rallied around their goalie.  They protected him.  They had his back.  And we didn’t.  We just…we didn’t.  And I hate it when we do that.  Because I have…I have every guy in that locker room’s back.  I do.  But sometimes it just…” he sighed, shaking his head.  “Sometimes it just doesn’t work out how I want it to.”

Aberdeen had continued to run her fingers through his hair.  She nodded at the end of his speech.  “I’m not going to pretend that I know what it feels like, because I don’t,” she said.  “I haven’t been a fan of hockey and I don’t understand it like you do but I know how much a game like this can affect the group, especially with the media in this city.  But I got emotional about it because I know how much it affects you.  Even if you won’t tell me about it.”

“I don’t mean to not tell you,” William said.  “I just…” he paused again, thinking if he should even say anything.  “It’s that besides my dad and brother, nobody’s ever really…you know, listened.  So I just stopped talking.”

Aberdeen’s heart broke.  At that point, she stopped running her fingers through his hair and forced him to sit up, even though her legs were still wrapped around him, so she could look him in the eye.  She thought about Mike Babcock and what he’d done to Will.  She thought about all the other hockey coaches he had and wondered if they were just as bad.  “Willy…” she said softly, running her thumb along his jawline and lips.  “Willy, I want you to talk to me more.  About hockey.  About your family.  About your feelings.  About everything.  Please.  Please.”

William nodded.  He understood completely what she was asking him to do, and he was going to make a concerted effort to do so, because he loved her.  He loved her so much and he didn’t want to see her worrying about him.  “I will, minskatt.  I will, for you,” he said, kissing her quickly.  He shifted them so she was straddling his body.  “I just have to get used to somebody listening.”

“Willy, I’m always going to listen to you.  Don’t forget that, okay?” she asked, cradling his face in her hands.

He nodded, quickly kissing her again.  The words were coming now, and he couldn’t stop them.  Aberdeen had that power over him.  “What happened the other night at the bar was my fault,” he said.

“What?” Aberdeen’s eyes bulged out of her head dramatically.  “Willy, that was not your fault at all—”

“Yes it was—”

“No it wasn’t—”

“Yes, yes it was,” he said sternly.  “And I couldn’t take it.  I was so mad, minskatt.  I was shaking.  I wasn’t able to stop it or to protect you or—”

“Willy—Willy, stop.  Willy, it wasn’t your fault at all,” she repeated.  “Those stupid guys were drunk.”

“But they were aiming for me.  They hated me.  I wish that glass would’ve hit me instead,” he said, bringing his hand up to her scar and touching it lightly.

“Don’t you dare say something like that.  It was a freak accident, Willy.  There was nothing either of us could do,” she said, hoping he would soon realize it.

William paused for a moment.  “You’d talk to me too, right?  Like you want me to talk to you?” he asked.  Aberdeen nodded her head confidently.  “Were you scared that night?”

Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders.  “Just a little bit.  But you were there.  And Jason.  And when I realized that, I wasn’t so scared anymore.  I’ve been scared before in my life much worse and with less blood.”

William nodded.  “Are you listening?”

“Yes…”

“I love you.”

Aberdeen smiled.  “I love you too.”

They began kissing.  Lightly, at first, and then Aberdeen couldn’t help but stick her tongue down his throat, and William couldn’t help but squeeze at the flesh of her thighs.  As they made out like teenagers on his couch, Aberdeen placed her hands over his and guided them to her ass.  

William giggled slightly into the kiss.  “Aberdeen…” he said in a playfully accusing tone.

“I only want to remember feeling your hands there instead,” she mumbled against his lips.  

William froze.  Suddenly and all at once, her words hit him like shards of glass, cutting him to his very core.  “I’ve been scared before in my life much worse and with less blood.”  Ethan.  She still thought about what happened with Ethan – she still thought about it and it affected her and it made her scared, something she hadn’t admitted to before.  William felt like killing Ethan all over again right then and there, with Aberdeen sitting on his lap.  What affected her wasn’t a physical wound; what affected her was something much deeper.

“Listen to me,” he said, his hand cradling her chin, thumb gliding over her lips softly as she’d done to him earlier.  “Nobody is going to do that to you again, okay?  Not while I’m here.”  

Aberdeen nodded her head.  She believed him completely.

“I mean it, Aberdeen,” he pressed.

“I know.”

“If I ever saw him on the street, I’d fucking kill him for what he did to you.  For how he made you feel.  And I want you to know that, like…you’re not what happened to you.  You’re so much more.  He was a pig who couldn’t see that but I can,” William said.

Aberdeen almost burst out into tears at his words.  You’re not what happened to you.  You’re so much more.  She could have cried right then and there.  But instead, she nodded her head before kissing William again, even more eager this time, wanting to show him just how much she appreciated him, just how much she believed him, just how much she loved him.