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deebris · 5 months ago

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The Misteryous Visitor 5

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: The argument between Talia and Bruce is catastrophic from beginning to end, and while the whole truth is revealed, neither of them wants to let go of you. Strange was always a greater danger than he let on and was closer than he ever thought.

Warnings: Family discussion; meaningless kiss; aggression; blood; kidnapping; maternal possessiveness;

Word count: 4.5k

Note: Talia has a slightly different relationship with Bruce in my story compared to the canon, being more tense than the impression I got when I watched scenes between the two of them.

I forget to mention that English is not my first language, forgive me for any mistakes.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

"Is it true?" Bruce asked quickly, barely giving Talia time to dare say anything before him. The woman rolled her eyes, still with her back to him, and prepared to maintain her confident pose.

She turned to face him and took a few moments to admire the vision, blatantly diverting her eyes to his lips and seeing how the messy shirt had given him a more fierce and attractive aura. Their relationship was complicated, that's a fact, but she could never stop finding the man in front of her charmingly handsome.

"You'll need to be more specific than that," Talia's voice dripped with a sweet and wicked tone as she walked toward him. Bruce violently stood up from the chair when he saw her hand reach towards him and imposed his height over hers to intimidate.

"Don't play the cynic." There was a suppressed fury in his tone, and she was sure he was using the last bit of self-control that still possessed.

"For heaven's sake, Bruce." Talia mocked, picking up the coat she had intended to grab from the beginning from the chair, having recognized it as yours. She grimaced as felt the damp fabric and dropped it in a corner of the room on the floor. The look she was receiving could burn her skin, and when she turned her face back to his, she realized how disturbed he was. "You look horrible. Strange really got into your head, didn't he?"

Talia saw him narrow his eyes with impatient indignation as he snorted. She found seeing him like this very peculiar and thought it would be fun to try and provoke.

The woman brought her face close to his, making her warm breath touch his chin provocatively while boldly wrapping her arms around the broad neck. She tested the waters, seeing how he remained still, and brushed her red lips along his jawline, then moved up until their mouths shared the same breath.

She was going to try to persuade, convince him that he was overthinking, and smiled inwardly when she saw Bruce become disconcerted for a second, completely unresponsive when she sealed their lips together. She managed to seduce him in that second to the point where, unconsciously, he moved his tongue with hers, but tasting her saliva brought him back to rationality.

He left her in complete shock when abruptly pushed her away and grabbed her face in an aggressive manner, squeezing the cheeks and making her squirm until eyes glazed over into his. “You repulse me.” Bruce spat and was glad to see her bold expression disappear. “Tell me once: she is mine?"

Talia tried to take his hand away with hers, but he seemed implacable, and didn't even move a finger out of place. He might be stronger, but she wasn't weak, and that was what made her let out an astonished sob.

"She is my daughter?!" He shouted, shaking her, no longer able to take the lack of response.

"Yes it is true." The confession made him let go of her finally, and she almost stumbled back with how sudden it was.

She massaged her face, seeking relief, and it didn't take long for her eyebrows to furrow in shock. Bruce felt no pity or regret, she deserved much more than he would ever have the courage to do.

"How?" By the way he looked, she knew there was no more room for lies or evasion. She had never seen him like this; Bruce had always been the most balanced man she had ever known in her entire life.

"She and Damian are twins," Talia responded immediately.

"Twins?" Bruce's voice sounded incredulous. He felt that even all the time in the universe wouldn't be enough to process that. It seemed simply unreal. "Why did you hide this? Why did you tell me about Damian and not about her?"

"Because you would have taken her from me!" She shouted, running her fingers over her face to check if her makeup had smeared. "I handed Damian over to you willingly, but if you had found out about him before, you would have brought him here just the same. And with her, it would be no different. You should be grateful to have had the boy."

"How dare you say such a thing?" Bruce threw the chair to the floor in a fit of rage, making a loud noise that echoed even outside the hallway. "And 'handed Damian over willingly'? You only did that because you felt pressured after your father died." He threw it in her face and suddenly remembered something: "You made that boy lie for you." He accused her.

Talia was silent for a brief moment, but her face showed nothing but contempt. "I did, yes." She admitted.

"What's the point of that? Was it just out of whim?" Bruce seemed fragile before her for the first time in so many years. For a moment, she glimpsed an old argument, from when they were still dating and didn't hide feelings from each other as they do today. "Do you hold that much resentment? You know very well why I dismissed the League of Assassins."

"Of course, Bruce. Your morals are too valuable, aren't they?" Talia replied with her chin up, not letting him affect her. "You think you're a good guy, a pure superhero like Superman. But I know you and I know how rotten you are inside. You are not as different from us as you think." She spewed the words in his face like venom.

"You wanted her to come here, didn't you? You and he planned all this?" Comprehension seemed to have hit Bruce, but that only left the woman confused.

"If it were up to me, you would never have discovered her existence. Why would I send her here?" The confession left him silent, not because he wasn't angry anymore, but because he was tired of hearing her voice; he simply couldn't believe anything Talia said. "She is my daughter. And I don't care what you're going to do now, but don't think you're going to drag her with you like you did with all those boys.”

"You think you can offer something better? You, the same person who left her in the hands of that sicko, consider yourself a better option?" Bruce insinuated this with a firmness that made it clear he had no doubt Talia was cooperating with Strange, making her eyes turn red. She could hear many insults from him, but insinuating that she had put you at risk was something entirely different. "You can be sure you won't lay another finger on her."

She knew Bruce was serious, and that he could actually prevent any future contact betwedn you and her. She wanted to kill him right now out of sheer hatred, but she was smart and knew that acting impulsively wouldn't solve anything. So, reluctantly, she tried to change the tone of the discussion to a neutral one. There was no way she could leave without giving him explanations, and if she tried, he would stop her.

"Maybe Strange had been threatening me for some time, possibly before deciding to appear publicly again and attack you." There was a slight irony of indignation in her words. Her gaze was firm and her green eyes shining with the intensity of someone defending their own honor. "Let it be clear: I didn't help anyone; I was as much a victim of this as you were."

"Victim?" Bruce retorted with disdain.

"This threat wasn't for you, Bruce, it was for me. Today you didn't lose anything, quite the opposite." She ignored the acidic tone and continued. "Maybe this contributed to some kind of psychological game Strange is playing against you, but it must be just a bonus."

"Why is he threatening you?" The question contained no compassion or empathy, but it didn't matter to her to receive that kind of consideration from him.

"What did he do to you?" Talia ignored the question, and as a form of childish revenge, he did the same. She sighed and tried a different approach: "If you tell me, I'll tell you too." She needed to know to try to understand the depth of Strange's current intentions or at least get some clue about the plan he was plotting because although she wouldn't say it to Bruce, she was also trying to catch him.

"A photo of my parents," he confessed, trying to sound indifferent before continuing, "Photos of the boys, of Alfred..." Bruce left the sentence hanging in the air and didn't proceed. He would never say more than he deemed necessary to her.

"Damian too?" She asked, worried about her son, and saw Bruce nod affirmatively. Bruce calmly unwrinkled a card while handing it to her.

"He asked her to deliver this to me today." His tone was serious, revealing a determination to deal with the situation pragmatically and directly.

Talia repeated those printed words several times, and every hair on her body stood on end all at once. "Did she…?"

"She didn't read it." He said curtly. "But what I don't understand is how all this seems so convenient and you claim to have nothing to do with it. He had this card perfectly prepared."

"Knowing him well, he must have been waiting for an opportunity for many days, or he induced this to happen somehow." She reflected, scratching the fine texture with her nails right where the text was printed to the point of making it illegible. "The letter that Damian said she picked up took longer to arrive than the others; it must have ended up with him at some point."

"How could he be so close, and you didn't notice?" His voice became aggressive again, the same beastly rage returning.

"I did notice! I just didn't imagine Strange interested in her; I thought it was about Damian. So, I didn't worry because he wasn't with me; he was with you." She raised her voice, trying to match his volume. "Strange has been sending me coded messages. Threats that had nothing to do with my daughter. I thought he didn't know she was yours and therefore wouldn't care about her." She finished, and Bruce clenched his jaw, observing how she increasingly emphasized the expression "my daughter," excluding him.

"Threats related to Damian?" He asked. His muscles were tense and sore, but he endured the discomfort if it meant clarifying everything once and for all. "And, of course, you never considered telling me."

"This started long before I left him with you, Bruce. They were still children." Talia said, growing increasingly frustrated with the conversation.

"What could Damian have done to him as a child?"

"Damian ended up leaving Strange with one less eye. He was already pursuing him because of you, but after losing an eye, all he wanted was revenge." She walked to the bed, leaning on the arms while crossing her legs. A very characteristic gesture of her behavior, which was highlighted when she wore her extravagant dresses, but the cold pants she wore made the movements relaxed. "He was a child; he didn't do it on purpose. He was just protecting his sister."

"How could Strange have known about Damian for so long and not about her? What you're saying doesn't make any sense, Talia." Bruce was frantic, and after a brief moment of melancholy, she sighed:

"I blame my father for this." Her voice almost wavered in front of him, but being the proud person she was, she quickly composed herself.

“What did Ra’s do?” He threw the question into the air, laden with apprehension.

The room plunged into a disturbing silence. Talia remained motionless, while the sound of Bruce's heavy breathing was the only thing breaking the void in the atmosphere. For a brief moment, her eyes met his and captured the storm of emotions brewing there: betrayal, despair, expectation.

She did not fear him, but rather how he might react to this. You were there, nearby, in the hallway, and the last thing she wanted was for the primal figure Bruce was becoming to explode and expel her, taking you to him. Moreover, she needed to remind herself that she was at a disadvantage there. It wasn't just Bruce she would face if things turned worse or physical, but everyone else in the house.

“What did he do, Talia?” Bruce growled, repeating the question with intensity.

She stared at the floor, fully aware that her next words would turn against her later, but at this point, he needed to know. Strange was out there, and he was still as much of a psychopath obsessed with Batman as before, meaning he wouldn’t rest until he managed to take Bruce’s place as a vigilante. So, with a low but icy voice, she moved her mouth to tell him the truth:

“Years ago, Strange sought out the League of Assassins. That lunatic was always smart and somehow discovered the rift between you and my father.” The mention of such an old event took Bruce by surprise. He slightly recoiled and his eyebrows raised, but he restrained himself from interrupting her. “He wanted the League to help him defeat you and vice versa. My father was suspicious, but he was so resentful that he agreed. Your betrayal was still fresh to us.”

“And of course it went wrong, didn’t it?” He asked with implicit sarcasm.

“Strange was so cunning that he managed to manipulate him to his advantage. He provided us with precise and important information about you, but after a while, he wanted to advise my father on how to act. That’s when I started to hate him, realizing how he was controlling.” She shook her head in denial, recalling the memory with bitterness, and continued:

“My father trusted him so much that he allowed Strange to infiltrate us more and more, until one day, by chance, he found damian in Nanda Parbat. Strange was nosy and curious; he tried to extract the information from me, but discovered on his own that you were his father.” Talia blew a strand of hair that fell on her face and decided to add the next part with acidity: “Strange was so fascinated by this that he made an absurd request. We denied it, and then he rebelled against us. Of course, that incompetent couldn’t accomplish anything, and then disappeared, as he always does when things go wrong.”

“Ra’s and Strange working together?” Bruce asked himself. He could never have imagined that two such distinct people could have had a relationship like that in the past. “And what did he ask for?”

“He was obsessed with surpassing you, but it wasn’t just that, he wanted to be you and have everything that was yours. He asked to raise Damian as if he were his own son, can you believe it? Luckily, Y/n never set foot in Nanda Parbat, so he didn’t discover her in that time.” She paused for a moment, reliving the events. “He wanted to prove that he could raise him and make a better Robin. Strange has known your identities much longer than you think; he knew the real Robin was your adopted son.”

Bruce’s face contorted in an expression of disbelief. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his mouth opened as if about to say something, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. He blinked a few times, needing to assimilate what he had heard. “If he never saw her before, how did all this happen?”

“A few years later, when my father hadn’t been dead for long, I returned to live in Gotham City with Y/n, and Strange found out Damian was here too and broke into the apartment where we were. He intended to kidnap Damian, but he used to share a room with his sister, and by mistake, Strange went to her bed.” She spoke with a heavy voice, the last sentence sending chills down her spine, but she persisted:

“I woke up to her frightened scream and a loud noise. I ran and when I saw it was him, I had no mercy. He is intelligent, but sometimes he is blinded by his own obsession and do stupid things. He was already bleeding, with a pencil piercing one of his eyes, thanks to Damian, then fled through the living room. I didn’t initially chase after him because I wanted to make sure Damian was okay; the problem was I hadn’t realized that Y/n wasn’t in the room. Damian had distracted Strange to let his sister escape, and because of my delay, he took her.”

Talia seemed to be in a trance. Each word weighed on her chest like lead, yet she threw them out as if they were disposable. Her usually confident and determined eyes didn’t know where to look. Sitting rigidly on the bed, her imposing posture didn’t waver, as her pride didn’t allow her to show weakness.

“What did he do?” Bruce throat tightened, as if the air was rarefied, as he waited for the answer. Talia might think otherwise, but he could see through her facade. And despite it being selfish to say this, he couldn’t feel a shred of concern for her, especially when someone more important to him was now involved.

After standing for so long, Bruce sat on the bed next to her. He reflected on the sad incident, deeply disturbed. He blamed her. He blamed her for her character, for lying so much, and for hiding from him that his children were in danger. He was grateful that she had fallen silent for a few seconds, as he was mentally preparing himself for a grim scenario, one he wasn’t yet ready to face.

“What happened to her?” He asked, seeing that she wasn’t showing signs of speaking, trying to prompt her to continue.

"Strange carried her through the city, desperately fleeing from me until he ended up in an alley. He encountered a group of drunks who surrounded and wanted to rob him. He's not a good fighter, you already know that, and like a damn coward, he threw her into their midst as a distraction while he escaped again.”

“Unbelievable…” Bruce massaged his eyebrows with his eyes closed, visibly upset. He pressed his temples hard, as if trying to dispel the accumulated frustration. After a deep breath, he suddenly exploded in a shout of frustration and anger, just like at the beginning. “You should have contacted me!"

“Are you trying to blame me?!” She asked indignantly.

"She didn't seem to recognize him when she spoke to me just now. It sounded like she was talking about a random stranger." Bruce was confused.

"I don't know if she would recognize him again, she never wanted to talk to me about that day. And I never mentioned Hugo Strange either, everything she knows about him she sees on the news."

“You and your father are the worst kind of people I could have gotten involved with,” Bruce said, his voice dangerously low this time. “If it weren't for Ra's, Strange would never have gotten close to them. If it weren't for your stupid lie, nothing you just said would have happened. And I don't even want to imagine what the hell happened after that!”

"You would have made sure nothing like that happened, wouldn't you, Bruce? You talk about it with such certainty, but weren't you the one who let the Joker do something similar to that kid… Is Jason his name?" Her mention of something like that made Bruce's ears go deaf. He could clearly hear the sound of his heart beating inside his chest, until her disgusting voice sounded again: "You would have put her in the same disgrace!"

Bruce lost the control he tried so hard to maintain from the beginning. He threw the lamp next to him into the headboard on the wall. The movement was so violent that the wire connecting the object to the socket broke in a strange way and the entire glass part broke into several pieces. The noise was thunderous, and even when he stood up with a piercing look at her, Talia continued with her laughing face, enjoying watching him go crazy.

“Don't try to compare the two things. You didn’t tell me about Strange before because you were embarrassed. It's too hard for you to admit that you can fail. Besides, you always liked having someone to control, to manipulate at your pleasure. You did this to her, didn't you? And even then, you’re not satisfied. You continued to torment Damian, using him.” Bruce took a deep breath.“I thought you cared about him.”

Talia got up too and lifted her chin, her eyes shining with defiance. “You understand nothing, Bruce,” she responded with a firm and cutting voice. “Everything I did was to protect them both. I explained my reasons to you. Do you think hiding them was just my decision? My father would never have allowed it, and I won't deny that I wasn’t against him, but it didn’t depend solely on me. You, with your inflexible morality and your rules, would never understand.”

“Don’t give me that,” Bruce growled, his gaze fixed and penetrating. “You branded the girl with your initials like she was cattle. It was never about protection; it’s possessiveness.”

Like him, Talia stood up. “I may be a woman of whims, as you like to say, but I didn’t hide anything because I was embarrassed”

Talia paused, her voice softening but not positively. “And as for tormenting him… I trained him, prepared him for the cruel world we live in. Do you think you could keep him safe with your mild methods? He needs to be strong, needs to be able to survive, and in those years I taught him to protect her because no one else would. My father didn’t care about a granddaughter; he finally had the male heir he wanted. I had to meet his demands to make Damian perfect, and that allowed me the freedom to raise her away from all that. What I could do, I did. And what I wanted to do, I also did. And I’d do it all again.”

“You always think you did everything right, but everything you’ve said only proves how misguided you are. I remember I gave you a choice, Talia. I told you that you could abandon the League of Assassins and come with me. I told you that your father didn't need to control your life forever,” Bruce said, his voice laden with disdain. “You will never come near her again. You’ll have to go over my dead body first.”

Talia narrowed her eyes in contempt. “Do you really think you can stop me?” Her voice was low and controlled, but each word carried significant weight. “You always saw the world in black and white. Do you really think it was so simple to abandon my entire life and devotion for you, a mere fleeting romance? If you think it’s that easy to give up everything, I challenge you to abandon Batman right now. After all, it’s because of this secret identity of yours that all this started, isn’t it? Isn’t it as easy as that, Bruce?”

She took a step forward, facing him without wavering. “I can repeat it as many times as you want: I am a criminal, I am selfish, and whatever else you want me to say, but the only hypocrite in this room is you.” Her eyes shone with determination, while his wavered before her.

Bruce hardened his expression, sadness hitting him. He wanted to accuse her of being a low person, but deep in his conscience, he feared it was true. But he wouldn’t allow himself to be deceived; she was still the wrong one here. She was the one who completely distorted the situation, making herself the victim and trying to justify everything she did, turning him into the villain of the story.

“Talia, I never wanted you to be any of these things,” he began, his voice laden with anguish. He felt bitterness looking at her face now, as it painfully reminded him of the time when he had been deeply in love with this same woman. “I wanted to believe you could change, that you would be different from your father. But every choice you made, every lie you told… Our relationship was unsustainable, and now the only thing I feel for you is remorse.”

He closed the last distance between them, imposing himself with a somber aura. “Your actions, your alliances… they put her at risk. My duty as a father is to protect her, and I can’t ignore the danger you represent. I never wanted it to come to this, Talia. But if keeping her safe means keeping her away from you, then that’s what I’ll do.”

Talia clenched her fists, her expression hardening even more. “Do you think I didn’t want to protect her too?” Her voice became silky. There was a dark delight in how the words dragged, a subtle poison hidden in each intonation. “You talk about protecting her, but she needs more than simple physical protection. She needs a mother, someone who understands the complexity of her feelings.”

“Look at yourself for a moment, Bruce,” said Talia, her voice icy and full of disdain. “You’re losing your composure. Do you really think she’ll like finding out that her father is this weak and ridiculous man you’ve become?”

The woman took a step forward, fixing her eyes on his with a challenging gleam. “The only thing she’ll feel for you is shame.”

"Do you really think you can tell me who I've become?" He paused, swallowing hard. "I didn't want it to come to this, Talia, but if you don't leave voluntarily, I'll be forced to tell that girl everything you've done. And then we'll let her decide."

He intensified the confrontation, provoking her: "Are you sure she would still choose you after so many lies? After everything you've hidden from her?" His eyes darkened, pupils dilated by the dim light in the room. "Value the good image she still has of you."

Talia was momentarily silent, her eyes meeting Bruce's with a genuine expression of concern. She took a deep breath before speaking, her voice a bit more dangerous than before. "Would you really do that? Tell her everything?"

Bruce replied firmly, maintaining his serious gaze on hers. "It's what I must do, regardless of everything. Continuing to hide things isn't right. But if the only way for you to leave more easily is under this condition, then go now."

Talia took a few steps back, her serious expression showing shock and worry. Her thoughts repeated Bruce's ultimatum continuously, knowing you would not react well to it.

You were a smart girl, but emotionally very fragile. Your bonds of trust were limited to her and your brother, and you two had been apart for so long that having your relationship with your mother destroyed in this way would leave a huge scar on your heart. This would be the best choice, both for her and for you if Talia didn't want everything to fall apart.

She turned towards the bedroom hallway, as if seeking a moment to ponder the consequences. After a moment, she turned her gaze back to Bruce, her shoulders slightly lower. "You are not going to involve her in your vigilante life." It wasn't a request, it was a warning, and Bruce didn't contest it to avoid further conflict. Understanding that she had decided to leave was enough to reassure him.

"I didn't mean to." He walked past her, picking up your coat she had thrown on the floor earlier, checking carefully that it hadn't been damaged by the broken lampshade, and lifting the chair to let the piece dry once more.

"You know where the exit is; don't take too long." Without bothering to be polite, he quickly opened the door, leaving her standing there. He knew she would really leave after seeing how she reacted. She wouldn't risk irritating him by taking longer than necessary.

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the-type-a · 1 year ago

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Duncney Week 2023

(9•10) Day 1: Admitting Feelings

AO3 | FanFic | TikTok | Twt

There It Is

(Read under break)

It had to be hours since the most recent Killer Bass elimination. The plan had gone accordingly; Tyler was now miles away from the island. Yet, a strange feeling crept up on Duncan as he forced his feet to the familiar campsite. His mind replayed the last few hours.

“You guys better vote for Tyler.”

Harold and Sadie shared a look before Harold asked why.

“Because all he had to do was sit on the ground with a few baby chicks and blew it!”

“Yeah, but Courtney’s the reas–”

Duncan grabbed Harold by the shirt, lifting him slightly off the ground. Harold gulped as Sadie covered her eyes at the possible unfolding brawl.

“Okay, we’ll vote Tyler! Gosh!”

Duncan’s red Converse kicked dirt as he shuffled up the tiny hill. Why had he forced those two dweebs into voting off the jock? It’s not like they were wrong. Courtney had been a reason the team lost today, but she was also why many faced their fears. Especially him. His hands bawled into fists as he recalled how her silky hand molded into his callused one. The way she lowered her voice to assure him everything would be okay. The way she encouraged him to no end. Fuck, he hoped the cameras missed the way he softened to her.

His mind argued with him as he approached the uneven stumps of that campfire pit. He couldn’t possibly like her. She was everything he hated: a stuck-up princess, a goody two shoes, yet she had a side to her he had only caught glimpses of. Her freckles popped up from the bridge of her nose when she was flustered. The way her composer would relax whenever she was high off of adrenaline to help the team win—still, the thought of actually having a heart made Duncan want to vomit.

He reached his destination and sat looking into the fire's dying embers. He’d shove those feelings aside. There was no way a chick would change his stance in the game, let alone one so high and mighty. His thoughts were cut by the sudden drop of logs into the pit. The fire sprang freely; his face would have taken a few burns if he hadn't moved in time.

The teen punk looked past the flames and saw her. Courtney. She was dusting her hands off on her pants as she sat back down on a stump. She looked relieved yet angry, which was insane for Duncan to think about, seeing as he was the sole reason she was still on this stupid island.

He studied her for a moment. The flames made her skin glow slightly darker, and her eyes reflected the dancing flames. She ran her fingers through her thick hair with a sigh before making eye contact with him.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” She snarled.

Something snapped in him. Every sane part of him told him he hated this girl. Yet he found himself smirking at her foul words. Something about the way she wasn’t afraid to challenge him stirred a mix of emotions within him. He liked it. She was bold, aggressive, and dare he say a beautiful representation of the female population.

He liked her. Fuck it, he liked her a lot.

—

Courtney was trying to have a few moments to herself when she noticed Duncan sitting across from her. She was over today’s challenge and was confident she’d be sent packing, but she didn’t question her safety as Tyler sailed away on the boat of losers.

Everything about the past couple of days had been a major fuck up. The alleged cuddling with said Neanderthal, her reaction to that stupid dessert, her unbelieved display of affection in helping said Neanderthal face his fear, just to top it off with chickening out of her own. She was a complete failure. A complete joke. If she prayed hard enough, none of the final edits would keep her stupid encounters with Duncan. She could not believe she even let herself get so close to him more than once!

Enough was enough. That sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach would cease whenever he called her some stupid nickname. The way her heart raced when the two made sudden eye contact would simply go away if she kept her focus on the game. She was here to win, not make friends– or whatever he would be subcategorized as.

She’d think Duncan thought she respected him if she knew any better. Heck, liked him even. Now more than ever after that pathetic pep talk. God, how had she gotten so lost in the moment that she hugged him? Her eyes narrowed as she thought about how his fingers squeezed her waist just before everyone approached them. That simply could not continue.

Courtney caught him staring at her through the flames. Some of her was thankful for the fire, and she was sure her face was heating up more. She needed to come off as unappealing as ever to return to the zone. Without thinking, she snarled at him vulgarly, but the sudden attack didn’t meet her with the wanted scoff and possible disappearance of the punk. No, it slapped her face with that cocky smirk that twisted her insides.

Fuck. She liked him, and she hated herself for it.

#the-type-a #duncney #duncney week #duncney week 2023 #td courtney #td duncan #total drama courtney #total drama duncan #day 1 #admitting feelings #my wrtitng

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firstofficerwiggles · 4 years ago

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Dress Code, Part 1

Part 2, Part 3 (T rated), Part 3 (M rated)

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Some swearing, references to sexuality, mostly just fluff with some longing

Summary: You’re headed out to shop when Din takes issue with your dress

Word Count: ~3000

Author’s Note: This will be at least a two part story, possibly three parts if I can make it all connect well. This takes place at some point between seasons or maybe early on in Season 2.

P.S. There’s a tiny nod to Ed Sheeran in this.

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“Is that what you’re wearing?” the Mandalorian’s gruff voice questions as you are getting the child ready for a day of supply shopping. It feels like forever since you’ve been off the ship and you are in dire need of fresh food and other essentials. You swear if you have to eat one more packet of reconstituted soup your taste buds will shrivel and die. You are also desperately looking forward to breathing in fresh air and feeling the sunshine on your skin again. As luck would have it, you’ve landed in a spot that is lush and green with a moderate climate, and as you flew by overhead you spied a bright and colorful village with a bustling marketplace.

Back home you never would have considered food shopping a reason for dressing up, but after many long months on a starship, these brief outings feel like a special event to you. In your eagerness to be outside again, you decided to wear a pretty sundress that you love. It hugs your curves in all the right places but still manages to be flowy and soft, plus you know this color is one of the most flattering for you. Ok, maybe you didn’t need to also do your hair and makeup quite this nicely, but you figured, why not? it made you feel good. Plus there was the added hope that maybe the Mandalorian would look at you for once as more than just a crew member. Not that you should want him to do that, you remind yourself strictly, he is your boss after all.

“I suppose it’s a little dressier than normal for shopping, but I think I look nice,” you respond smoothing your hands over the dress and feeling a small thrill of delight that at least he noticed the dress.

Din makes a hmpf sort of sound as if he wants to disagree with you but can’t bring himself to actually say anything definitive.

“What do you think, sweet baby?” you say with a wink to the child. He grins up at you and makes his happy cooing sounds. “He seems to like it.”

“Let’s get going,” Din says, ignoring your comment and handing you your cloak.

“I don’t need my cloak, Mando, it’s a warm, sunny day out there,” you tell him.

“So, you’re just going to go out, like that, exposed.” He is still holding out the cloak to you.

“Exposed?” you say with a laugh, “This is a perfectly respectable dress.”

“Your arms are naked and so are most of your legs and toes,” he points out. His hands are on his hips and he tilts his helmet as if his eyes are traveling down your body taking in the knee-length sundress and ending at your open-toed sandals. You feel your cheeks flush and the ship seems warmer all of a sudden as he scrutinizes your body.

“Mando, I know this is more skin than you’d ever show, but trust me, non-Mandalorian women dress like this all the time,” you reason with him. “Besides, I wasn’t aware this marketplace had a strict dress code.”

“What if it does?” he retorts.

“Seriously. Is that the best you can do?” You’re getting a little annoyed at him now, and as you think about it you realize he’s made a few off-hand comments recently about the way you dress. Why is he making this an issue?

Din knows he is being a pain in the ass about the dress and it has much more to do with him than he would care to admit. He’s noticed that you wear your prettiest clothes each time you leave the ship, but this is the first time he’s openly questioned you about it. When he hired you to help him out with the child, he thought you were much too beautiful and that it was probably a bad idea. Hell, everyone always has jokes about dads and hot nannies. But he also knew that was a really shitty and misogynistic reason to deny someone a job, so he hired you because you were clearly the best candidate. Din had been absolutely right in that area and he admired the way you had bonded with the child and cared for him as if he were your own. But still, lately everything you do has been driving him crazy with desire and he’s getting more frustrated by the day. Just yesterday he had walked in on you cooking dinner, playing music, and dancing around the ship’s tiny galley. He was transfixed as you swayed your hips to the beat and listened to the singer crooning to you that he was in love with your body. It had made him flee to the fresher for a cold shower just to calm down. Frankly, the sight of you in this dress is making him yearn for another cold dousing. Besides that, he knows that the moment you get to the marketplace, his eyes won’t be the only ones on you, a thought that makes his stomach churn with ill-placed jealousy, but one that does give him an idea for a better counter-argument.

“You’ll attract too much attention.” Din finally tells you soundly.

“Excuse me? Mr. Head-to-Toe Beskar? I attract too much attention.” You sound incredulous.

“I attract the right kind of attention that says, ‘back off’,” he replies, “but you attract horny male attention, that seems to say, ‘hang around and be a pain’.”

“Oh, puh-lease. I’m not the only one who can attract horny male attention, Mando,” you sass back at him with a playful look, “The galaxy takes all kinds, and who can resist a man in shining armor?”

“Well,” Din clears his throat and looks away for a moment, “that may be the case,” he mutters, but then he turns his visor back towards you, and says more confidently, “but the men you attract are much more aggressive and persistent.”

“Maker, Mando, that was like one time, and he took off after you punched him.” You will admit there was a scene a few weeks ago in a particularly rowdy cantina where some creep wouldn’t leave you alone, until the Mandalorian hauled off and hit him square in the nose. You had been mortified at the time that he had needed to do it, but you would also swear that Mando had enjoyed punching the guy.

“I didn’t like your dress that night either,” Din lies to you. He did like it but he didn’t like seeing other men like it too.

You roll your eyes at that comment and sigh, “Since when do you care so much about my clothing choices?”

“I care when they might bring you unwanted attention,” he insists, “I do feel a responsibility for your welfare even if you don’t seem to.”

“Well, listen, is there any chance you are going to let me wander around this marketplace alone?” you ask changing tactics.

“Hell no,” he replies swiftly.

“Ok, then, problem solved.”

“What do you mean ‘problem solved’?”

“I mean no one is going to bother me if you are by my side all day,” you explain. He crosses his arms at this, but he doesn’t have a response. “That creep in the cantina only got so bold because I was by myself at the bar while you were negotiating that bounty. I’m sure he wouldn’t have dared try anything if you had been right there.” You decide to take things a bit further in attempt to end this silly argument, “Would you care to make a wager?”

“A wager?” he’s curious now.

“If a man hits on me while you’re by my side, I’ll let you pick out my clothing for a month. However, if no one hits on me, you say nothing about my clothing for two months.”

“One month,” he counters.

“Alright, fine, one month, either way,” you agree. “But, it only counts if you are by my side, if you walk away from me all bets are off.”

“I won’t be walking away from you, and you better not wander off either,” he warns.

“Do we have a deal?” You hold out your hand for him to shake.

“Deal,” he says taking your hand.

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

Your little party picks their way through the marketplace with ease stopping by stalls of fresh fruit, vegetables, cheeses, breads, and a delectable selection of pastries that has the child reaching out with both hands from his floating pram. The sneaky rascal had got a particularly large one in his mouth before you even had a chance to make your selection. Thankfully the vendor was entranced by his adorable face and hadn’t been bothered at all by his momentary thievery. This village has been nice and you’re enjoying the day not just due to the lovely weather, but also because of your little competition with the Mandalorian. You’ve noticed men giving you appreciative looks, but you’ve been cozying up to your Mando as much as possible, even going so far as to put your hand in the crook of his arm at times as you walk through the streets. In a few instances you were a little worried you might lose the wager when a particularly enthusiastic vendor was trying to make a sale, but fortunately for you, everyone had stayed polite and focused on helping you make your selections.

Din could see that he was well on his way to losing this wager. Normally, that would irritate him thanks to his competitive nature, but spending time with you like this was worth it. He had the chance to watch your happy face as you strolled through the colorful market and to listen to you cheerfully greet people and negotiate prices to get the best bargains. There was such an easy enthusiasm about you as you took pleasure in something that otherwise would have been mundane. It made him feel more lighthearted too. Yet the best part of this shopping trip was how attentive you were being towards him. Din was thoroughly enjoying the way you checked with him before making final selections of your purchases, the way your hand touched his arm, and the way you kept looking over to him with a smile. You were even letting him place a hand on the small of your back at times as he guided you towards different stalls. He had been right about you drawing attention from other men, but apart from a few appreciative glances, they had stayed away, no doubt because to all outward appearances Din and you looked like a couple.

You’ve been making good progress on your shopping list, and there are just a few more items you want to get before heading back to the Crest. You know you are supposed to be focused on picking up the essentials for the next few weeks, but your eye is drawn to a jeweler’s stall nearby and the pretty pieces he has on display. You let yourself wander over as the Mandalorian follows.

“Good afternoon,” the vendor greets you cheerfully, “please take a look, it’s all my own work, handcrafted right here,” and he gestures to a workshop behind the stall. He has many beautiful items but one necklace in particular catches your eye. It is a pendant shaped like a flower and it looks to be made of some type of silver. The flower has a second shinier metal filigree on top creating a lovely design that is topped off with tiny silver balls that glint in the sunlight.

“Would you like to try it on?” the jeweler asks you.

“Oh, I’d love to,” you reply eagerly. You lift the pendant up and place it around your neck, and then try to clasp it, but with your hair in the way, you can’t seem to get it to latch.

“Allow me,” Din’s fingers replace your own. You lift your hair up for him, and then tell yourself to breathe as his gloves gently brush over your neck. Perhaps it’s your imagination, but it feels as if he lets his hands linger there longer than necessary. When he takes a step back, you whirl around and ask, “How does it look?”

“You look beautiful,” Din replies, more honestly than he planned, your eyes lighting up at his compliment. He watches you turn back around towards a mirror the jeweler has set up to admire the necklace yourself. His eyes are drawn back to the pendant which is now glittering just at the top of your cleavage enticingly. He watches your delighted face in the mirror, enjoying the simple pleasure of wearing something beautiful.

“Your wife has excellent taste,” the jeweler’s words cause Din to turn his head and come back to the rest of the world. “That’s one of my favorite pieces.”

“What it’s made of?” Din asks the jeweler, not bothering to correct him on the word ‘wife’.

“It’s silver with beskar plating,” the jeweler explains, “I’m not surprised she likes it so much,” he says in a conspiratorial whisper and a slightly cheeky glance at the Mandalorian.

“How much?” Din asks.

You haven’t been paying any attention to Din and the jeweler; you’ve been too busy admiring the pretty necklace and imagining what it would be like to wear it to a special night out with your favorite dress. You’re so caught up in your daydreaming that it isn’t until you hear a merry laugh from the jeweler that you realize how long you’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks flush thinking that you must look so vain, and you turn to the jeweler and say, “Thank you so much for letting me try this on, but I suppose I better take it off now.”

“There’s no need, lovely lady, your husband has already purchased it for you,” he says with a grin.

You’re stunned both by the jeweler calling the Mandalorian your husband and with delight that he has bought you such a beautiful gift. Before you realize what you’re doing, you throw your arms around Din in a hug and thank him profusely. He is stiff for a second, not sure how to react to your embrace, but then, his arms come up to encircle you and he pulls you in tighter to his chest. He can’t remember the last time anyone hugged him and he has missed it more than he knew. For a moment, Din allows himself to enjoy the intimacy of holding you like this, and he imagines what it would be like to be able to hug you all the time.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Din tells you softly, the term of endearment slipping from his lips before he can stop himself. Your cheeks flush with pleasure at his words and when you pull back away from him your face is shining with the brightest smile he’s ever seen. The bustling marketplace falls away and it’s just the two of you standing in the sunlight with electricity buzzing between you, until the child coos loudly reminding you both of his presence.

“We should, uh, get the rest of the… supplies,” Din says sounding a little flustered. You understand that’s he’s feeling a bit shy right now after that public display of affection. You’re feeling the same way, wondering what all of this could mean. But you know that now is not the time to reflect on those thoughts, and instead you turn back to the child, scooping him up for a quick cuddle so he no longer feels left out. The Mandalorian also reaches out to give the kid’s long ears a stroke and says, “Are you still hungry, buddy? C’mon we’ll get you another snack.”

The rest of your shopping trip passes quickly and you’re back at the Razor Crest shortly thereafter. You are still floating on air after the day you’ve had. You keep sneaking glimpses at your new necklace and smiling to yourself like a besotted school girl. Even the drudgery of unloading and then securing all the supplies in the ship doesn’t put a damper on your spirits. The Mandalorian seems to be sharing in your joyfulness, humming a little as he lifts heavy crates and sneaks a few extra treats to the child. You’re getting ready to depart, when he turns to you and says, “Well, I suppose I should congratulate you on winning our wager.”

“That’s right, I did win,” you say happily almost having forgotten about the whole silly bet, “I knew no one would bother me with you right next to me.”

“Yes, it appears you were right about that,” he says grudgingly, “this time.”

“So that means one whole month with no comments about what I choose to wear,” you remind him.

“This doesn’t mean you should take this as an excuse to wear your most scandalous outfits,” Din tries to tell you.

“Uh-uh, the month starts now, no comments from you, sir,” you reply cheekily to him. You laugh a little to yourself, scandalous outfits, he’s being so dramatic.

“I’m going to get us on our way,” Din concedes his defeat and turns to head to the cockpit, but he can’t help to get in one last word as he tells you, “I’m sure your new necklace will look just as pretty with your more conservative clothes.”

“Maybe,” you reply attempting for a nonchalant tone, but failing spectacularly as your eyes light up at his suggestion.

Din makes his way back up to his pilot’s chair and begins the take-off procedure. He shouldn’t have made that comment about the scandalous outfits, it will just give you ideas filled with your sheerest and most revealing garments. But then, he has an idea of his own. Smirking under his helmet at his own cunning, he punches in the coordinates to the icy world of Hoth and makes the jump to hyperspace.

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Thanks for reading! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for Part 2.

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction

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potteryclaylover · 4 years ago

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Life Lessons I Learnt From Seagulls

Seagulls are the most inspirational creatures in my opinion. If I owned a sporting team of any sort, a seagull would be my mascot. Why? They’re the perfect combination of beauty, strong-will, friendliness and confidence. Though i personally never watched any seagull bird from close , but i love to watch bird from distance because i dont want to disturb their peace. But it always feel me with positive when i see group of birds eating , flying and all their activity. It is best therapy for me and its from very earlier .

Who of us has not wondered, at some point in life, if we really are living to our fullest potential? That we are really experiencing all that we are capable of experiencing?Every human being has been given the capacity to live abundantly, without boundaries. But the scope of this freedom is too large for most of us. We cringe from the vastness of all that is possible. We prefer to hide behind artificial limitations instead.

We hear of the frog in the pond that steadfastly refuses to believe that there were limitless oceans out there. For him, his pond is all that there is in the world. We also hear of the worm in the apple who believes that the whole world is its apple, nothing more.

Some of you may be familiar with the famous book Jonathon Livingston Seagull written by Richard Bach. A tale about a seagull who has dreams of being a better version of himself and flying higher and faster than any gull has ever dared before. Cast out by the flock for being different he goes off on his spiritual quest to discover his full potential. Does any of this resonate with you by any chance?

In real life many people hate seagulls. Maybe you do too. Are they the thugs of the bird world? Pests to be poisoned and driven out? Let’s be honest they have a terrible reputation because they are noisy and fearless they can appear aggressive and given the chance they will steal your food.

This little ode to seagulls may seem peculiar to you but as a result of long hours of observing them for days, I realized that inspiration can come from the simplest of things.

Have you ever heard of the expression ‘thinking out of the box?’ It means going beyond the accepted limits of imagination and daring to explore new possibilities. Jonathan Livingston Seagull was such an out-of-the-box thinker.

He discovered that for those who dare to dream, even the sky is not the limit. Jonathan lived as all seagulls do – in a flock. This flock was quite unremarkable. Seagulls are basically scavengers that inhabit the seashore, feeding off the debris that the sea throws out. Like all other seagulls, the members of this flock fed, bred and flew south in the cold winter months.

My love for these tiny birdies increased many folds when they actually taught me some valuable life lessons.

1. Don’t be afraid to stand against the wind

Look at this little fellow. He’s tiny and the wind that day was so strong even I was having trouble standing. He could just turn around and fly in the direction of the wind. But he stood his ground accepting the challenge.

Lesson: No matter how much friction you’re facing in being different or being yourself, don’t let it make you turn around in the direction of the wind.

2. Sometimes it’s good to go with the flow

If someone knows how to chill and take it easy, its the seagulls. They’ve taught me to not ALWAYS take life so seriously. That we can’t control each and every aspect of it. Sometimes you just have to let life unfold itself. See where the current takes you.

After all what’s the fun in knowing it all?

3. Evolve with your life situations

Seagulls are the masters of improvising and adapting to their circumstances. They can swim, fly or walk around depending on their need. We as humans have to realize that we are more equipped than a seagull. We have better means, internal and external, to adhere to our circumstances. We just need to be as strong-willed and easy going as a seagull.

Jonathan Livingston Seagull is a simple story with a profound message.

The message is that we can all be so much more than we believe, or are given to believe. That God – or fortune, if you wish – is on the side of the bold, the adventurous and the free in spirit.

But Jonathan sensed, in the core of his being, that there could be more to life. Much more.

4. Never be afraid to ask for your right

Anyone who has had a meal by the beach knows that the seagulls will come flocking around for their share. They are not afraid to ask for it. They’ll stand by staring at you persistently until you go, ‘oh well alright, have a chip.’

Deep in its communal heart, the flock knew that it was living below its full potential. It consoled itself with a vaguely remembered Promise, passed down various generations of seagulls. That Promise spoke of a Great Seagull – a supernaturally gifted bird that would come and deliver it from the chains of self-imposed mediocrity.

The Great Seagull was supposed to have secrets of limitless flight and a superior existence.

That discovering the Great Seagull’s secrets could have been the result of diligent effort and seeking did not occur to these seagulls. They preferred to put the responsibility of their future on a Being which they did not understand and did not try to emulate. The Great Seagull, however, did not come.

But maybe – just maybe – every seagull in that flock sometimes wondered if it was they were missing the point of this legend …

Jonathan had heard of the Great Seagull, of course. It meant nothing to him, but there was a question that did haunt him – the question that haunts us all when we have nothing to distract ourselves with. The question we ask ourselves when, for some reason or the other, we find ourselves sleepless at night.

Can I fly higher? Can I fly farther? Is there more?

The flock asked itself no such questions. The mundane preoccupations of life had them too much in thrall to consider deeper questions. But Jonathan knew that he could drink deeper of life than they did.

One day, he announced that he intended to fly higher and further than any seagull before him. The effect of his words on the flock was interesting, to say the least:

“Seagulls are not meant to fly higher than this,” is what they said. “What makes you think you’re different from us?”

That is the persistence and determination you and I need in your daily life. Ask for that promotion at work. Ask for the love and attention in a relationship. You deserve it.

5. It’s your character that makes you beautiful

Seagulls are not camera shy and are always ready to strike a pose. The poker face is their favourite. There are thousands of exquisite birds in the world but what made me fall in love with seagulls is their character. Sure they are nice to look at but it’s their confidence, strength and playful persona that makes them beautiful.

Jonathan’s answer was that he was not content with mediocrity, especially if he knew that he could attain greater heights. The rest of the flock became very angry with him – they called him a dreamer who did not know the realities of life. When he insisted on pursuing his vision, they cast him out of the flock.

Doesn’t this ring a bell in most of our minds? Doesn’t it remind us of times when we have been told – or even told ourselves – that we should realize our limits? Well, who sets those limits?

The human being has limited capabilities – but then, we only think of the capabilities we have actually demonstrated. We never think of the possibility of hidden capabilities that never see the light of day because they are not called upon.

Have you never heard of the true-life stories of people who overcame impossible odds – achieved impossible tasks – when they stopped relying solely on what they knew about themselves?

Jonathan Livingston Seagull, that anonymous bird in an anonymous flock, decided that he wanted to claim the Promise now. He wanted the power to fly higher than he had ever flown, to see sights he had never seen.

He decided that if the Great Seagull was real enough and powerful enough, it would help him achieve these goals in the Here and Now. Not in some vaguely conceived Hereafter, but in real time. In this present lifetime.

Did he turn to the Great Seagull in prayer? Or did he just draw inspiration from the fact that such a Seagull could and did exist? Richard Bach’s book remains silent on this issue. But from the moment Jonathan decided to claim the Promise, his life changed drastically.

Are you now waiting for the part where Jonathan was suddenly given miraculous spiritual and physical powers to make his dreams of impossible flight come true? Sorry, that is not what happened…

Instead, Jonathan’s belief in the Promise convinced him that the power to achieve his dream would be given to him if he put in diligent effort. He was a changed bird – he suddenly felt that he was no longer alone. And so he practiced flying higher. It was a painstaking process, but something had changed.

He no longer despaired when he considered his feeble seagull wings. He no longer doubted when he considered the fact that no seagull had ever flown as high as he wanted to fly.

This new-found assurance was not what is commonly known as ‘self-confidence’. It was confidence in something beyond him – a Higher Power, if you will. He called it the Great Seagull. Some call it God. But whatever we call it, it is a Power outside of ourselves. We cannot generate it, but we can still claim it.

And guess what? Jonathan Livingston Seagull soared. He eventually flew higher than any seagull ever had. And he finally met the Great Seagull.

Yes, he actually met the legendary Being. He basked in its approval and was given the power and privilege to lead others from the barren, empty path of self-effort to a mind-bogglingly rewarding partnership with Something Better.

I have a feeling that the human version of seagulls would have an amazing sense of humour as well.

Lesson learnt: Put your self out there. Have enough self-confidence to know and exhibit your good qualities and know that you’re beautiful just the way you are.

#Seagull Seagullbird Seagulllifeinspiration Life Lifeinspiration Thinkoutofbox selfconfidence achivement Success Happy Soulfullife

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trashyswitch · 5 years ago

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3 letters will make you Scream (Or laugh)

Chapter 1: Never Target the Roman Empire

Our main 4 sides had decided to play a few rounds of Uno. When Roman start feeling targeted, aggression turns into a fight, leading to a fascinating discovery...

Warning: 1 or 2 swears...Just a disclaimer.

Roman, Patton, Virgil and Logan were sitting in a circle on the ground, getting ready to play another round of Uno. They had just finished their first round, and were moving on to a new round. Soft sounds of card shuffling filled the room, as they eagerly waited for Logan to finish shuffling the tall deck of cards.

Logan held the deck out towards Patton, who was across from him.

“Split the deck please.” Logan ordered. Patton clapped excitedly, before taking the deck and splitting it in a random spot. Once Logan retrieved both halves of the deck, he took the smallest deck and started dealing them. He mentally counted to himself as he did so. Once that was done, Logan put the gripped deck onto the rest of the deck. He grabbed the first card on the big deck, and flipped it face up. Green. Finally, he grabbed his own cards and flipped through them.

As Logan eyed around, he was able to notice some facial expressions from his fellow teammates. Some were subtle, some were mostly obvious. Knowing from past experiences, Patton was the easiest expression to read. Prince was as well, but not to the obvious degree that Patton showed. Virgil was mostly poker faced, but Logan could notice a slight frown of the eyebrows. Something told Logan Virgil’s deck wasn’t as good as the last round.

“Okay. Who ended with the most cards last time?” Virgil asked.

“I did.” Roman replied, with a slight pout.

“Alright, then you get to start this round.” Logan directed, as he pointed to the first green card. Roman rolled his eyes as he grabbed a card from the tall deck and placed it down.

Green 6.

Next, it was Patton's turn. He looked at his deck, and noticed a 6 in his deck. He grabbed it and placed it on to of the green card.

Red 6.

It was now Virgil's turn. He slightly grunted at the color change, because he had no reds in his deck. Just one yellow, one green, and a few colored wild cards. Realizing he couldn't go, he picked up a card from the tall deck, and looked at it. Yellow 4. He added it to his deck.

"Can't go." Virgil said.

Finally, it was Logan's turn. Logan looked in his deck, and found a couple red cards to use. He chose one of them and placed it on top of the red 6.

Red 9

Roman looked at his deck, and realized the only red card he had, was a skip card. glancing at Patton, he decided to pick up from the tall deck instead. If he pulled a stunt like that so soon in the game, he would never hear the end of it. Looking at the card he pulled, he smirked and placed it down in the correct spot.

Blue 9

It was Patton's turn. He grabbed the single blue card from his deck, and placed it down.

Blue skip card

"Aw, come on!" Virgil complained as he smirked and eyed his opponent.

"I'm sorry, I had no other cards to choose!" Patton defended.

"Sure! I totally believe you!" Virgil exclaimed sarcastically. If it weren't for the smirk on Virgil's face, Patton would've thought he was actually mad. But his smirk told him his strange son was just messing with him.

"Hey! All is fair in the game of Uno." Patton said, purposefully changing an ancient quote to fit their situation.

"Alright you two. Patton, it's your turn again." Roman said.

"Wha-?! How?! I just went!" Patton yelled, dumbfounded.

"While you two were having your little fight, we had already put our cards down." Logan explained. Patton looked at the tiny pile and sure enough, there was a new card.

+2 card

Patton rolled his eyes and grabbed two cards from the tall deck. Next, he looked at the last card color, and put down a matching color card.

Blue 3

Virgil looked at his cards, and decided to place a certain card down.

+4 card

Logan's face went from a poker face, to shocked, to mischievous in a single second. He grabbed a card from his deck, and placed it down.

+4 Card

Virgil's jaw dropped.

"Hey! That's not how it works! You have to grab your 4 cards, choose the color and THEN place your card!" Roman yelled, offended by Logan's course of action.

Virgil's open mouth twisted into a wide smile. "Actually Roman, you can skip your move by placing a +4 card of your own, if you have it. That way, the next person will have to pick up 8 cards." Virgil explained.

"WHAT?! THAT'S BULLSHIT!" Roman screamed. Logan rolled his eyes as Roman's whole body quivered in anger.

"It's a strategic move Roman. Now, pick up your cards, so we can continue with the game." Logan said, softly.

Roman huffed, but picked up his eight cards. His card deck had went from 7 cards, to 15. He was furious. How dare he gang up on the dazzling Prince Roman?! Noticing a green reverse card, he felt a smirk appear on his lips as he started to plot a revenge plan in his head.

"The next color is green." Roman said. A series of groans filled the room for a couple seconds, as Roman placed his card down.

Green Reverse Card

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he said, looking towards the flamboyant Prince.

"What? I'm just trying to be nice." Roman defended, with his arms up in front of his chest defensively. Logan narrowed his eyes, before placing a card down.

Green 4

Virgil immediately reached for the tall deck and grabbed a card. Looking at it, he got lucky and placed it down.

Green 1

Patton looked at his hand, and put down a card.

Yellow 1

"Thanks." Roman said, before placing a card down.

Yellow 7

Logan grabbed a card and placed it down.

yellow 5

After another full circle, Logan let out the first 'Uno' of the round. Virgil decided to switch it up, so Logan would have to pick up.

Switch Decks

Virgil eyed up Logan's deck, and handed Logan his deck.

"Bold move, Virgil." Logan said, before grabbing Virgil's former deck. He gave Virgil his one-card deck, and spread out his new, 7-card deck.

"Uno." Virgil said quickly, to avoid picking up 2 cards.

While Patton and Roman were placing cards, Logan quickly glanced at his new cards. They were mostly wild cards, and a red card in the middle. He looked at the last placed card.

Blue 6

He grabbed the single red card from his deck, and placed it down.

Red 6

Patton placed one of his cards down.

Red 2

Believing Virgil was gonna win, Roman decided to take action.

Wild Card

Virgil groaned.

"Really?" Virgil asked. Roman smirked.

"Blue." Roman replied. Virgil sighed, but waited for Logan to finish.

Blue 5

Virgil placed his card down.

"And that's game." Logan said.

"Congrats on your win, Virgil!" Patton said before hugging him.

"Wha-" Roman muttered, confused. He looked at the card he had just put down.

Blue skip card

"WHAT?! HOW DID-...YOU HAD A RED! I SWEAR YOU HAD A RED!" Roman shouted as he tried to understand how he was tricked.

"It was your own fault for not paying attention to your actions." Virgil replied, confidently.

"LOGAN! YOU KNEW HE WAS GONNA WIN!" Roman shouted, before grabbing Logan's deck of cards. He pulled out a blue skip card from Logan's deck.

"YOU SHOULD'VE USED THIS!" Roman yelled, practically shoving the single card into his face.

"I didn't want to. Virgil deserved to win. I was planning on putting the wild card down, but you beat me to it. Thanks for that, by the way." Logan added, proudly.

By now, Roman was ready to burst. his whole body was shaking, his left fist was clenched, and his face was red from straining his frowning facial muscles.

"But, as Patton said before, All is fair in a game of Uno, ri-" Logan said, before being interrupted by a body-full of Roman.

Logan was tackled to the floor, and pinned down by an angry Roman.

"Ow! Roman! Why are you so angry? It's just a game!" Logan yelled as he tried to push Roman off him.

"Oh, you put this upon yourself the moment you placed that +4 card. I'm just getting the revenge I deserve!" Roman replied. He grabbed Logan's flailing arms and pinned them above his head. Almost instantly, Logan's eyes widened.

"Roman, don't you DARE!" Logan threatened. Roman raised an eyebrow.

"And why not?" Roman asked.

"Because...there are other ways to deal with this!" Logan replied.

"Like what?" Roman asked before putting Logan's wrists into one hand.

"Like...calming down in your room!" Logan offered.

"But that's no fun! Why walk away, when I can do this?" Roman asked, before wiggling his fingers on Logan's right side.

"AAGH! Nohohohoho! Rohohoman!" Logan yelled as he rolled to his right in an attempt to cover the spot.

"Oh my! Look at this squishy left side, just exposing itself to me! I must tickle it right away!" Roman teased. Roman let go of Logan's right side, and started squeezing and wiggling the left side.

"Nahahahahohoho! You're sohoho mehehehean!" Logan yelled through his laughter. Logan was going insane! For a lot of his life, Logan had thought Patton's baby voice was bad enough! But DEAR GOD ALMIGHTY!! This level of teasing was 10 times worse! Who knew Roman could beat Patton at that sort of thing?

Roman stopped for a moment. "Now, where to next? How about this very inviting armpit?" Roman asked, before scratching it. Logan's laughter started right up again! But this time, it was an octave higher!

AH! ROHOHOMAHAHAN! LEHET ME GOHOHOHO" Logan yelled. He tried to pull his arm down to protect the ticklish spot, but Roman's grip was strong!

"Oh my goodness! It appears I've hit a jackpot! How about we go a little...softer?" Roman thought aloud before giving Logan a bit of a break. While he waited for Logan's lungs to recover, Roman put his empty hand in his pocket and pulled out a red feather. One single look at that feather, made Logan gulp and squirm in his spot.

"Please...Roman, I'm sorry..." Logan said, through his breaths.

Roman thought for a moment. "Hmm...Okay. I forgive you." Roman said. Logan had breathed a sigh of relief, and pulled on his arms to bring them down. But...they weren't budging. Now that you mention it, Roman hadn't put his feather away yet!

"But just because I forgive you, does not mean I'm letting you go." Roman explained.

Logan's eyes went wide, as he struggled harder and harder.

"I don't understand! This started because of the game! I apologized, so you should be letting me go!" Logan yelled, growing frustrated.

"You're right. I forgave you for the original fight." Roman said, before moving the feather towards the nerd's armpit. Logan bit his lip.

"But your laughter is SO ADORABLE! I wanna hear more of it!" Roman explained happily. Logan was dumbfounded.

"Wh-what?" Logan asked, confused, yet flattered.

"Patton had always told me your laugh was amazing to hear, but you rarely laugh at anything! So, I never got a chance to hear it properly!" Roman explained.

"Oh...uh...thank you." Logan replied, awkwardly.

"Would I be allowed to tickle you more?" Roman asked. Logan was surprised by this.

"You're...asking me?" Logan asked.

"I don't want you to be forcefully laughing. I want you to enjoy being tickled!" Roman explained. Logan looked over at Patton, who looked eager to hear his laughter as well. Virgil, who was beside Patton, looked amused by the situation as well. So, he gave in.

"Sure. If my laughter is so enjoyable, you can enjoy it." Logan replied.

"YAY!" Roman cheered eagerly, before fluttering the feather.

"Haha! Rohoman!" Logan laughed softly as his cheeks turned a light shade of red.

"And to make sure you don't pass out, I'll make the tickling light, but un-pre-dictable!" Roman exclaimed. He started fluttering the feather faster, and made sure to cover every inch of his armpit with tickles.

"Rohohohoman! Ohohoh my gohohohosh!!" Logan yelled as more laughter spilled out.

"Oh my goodness gracious! Your armpit is just so ticklish! But I think it's time to give your other armpit a little attention." Roman teased, lifting the feather and fluttering it over Logan's left armpit.

"EEEEEE! Whahahahait! Ihihit's tohohoho muhuhuch!" Logan exclaimed, squirming back and forth underneath Roman and his feather.

Roman gasped. "Is this truly a thing that exists? Is one armpit...mooooore ticklish, than the other?" Roman asked teasingly, as the fluttering went faster. Logan's reaction was priceless! Roman's teasing and tickling had caused him to start cackling!

"Now THERE'S a sound you don't hear very often!" Virgil reacted. Logan's laugh was so contagious, Roman was starting to laugh along with him! Patton had started covering his face and giggling! Even Virgil was chuckling.

Soon, Roman stopped the feather, and let it disappear into thin air.

"Hahahaha! That! Was amazing! I-Gahahaha! Ohoho my god!" Patton said through his own laughter, as he cuddled into Virgil.

"Good heavens, Patton! You weren't even tickled, and you're dying over there!" Roman reacted. This only made Patton fall into another giggle fit.

Logan looked at the giggly boy, and smiled. "I had no idea my laugh could cause this." Logan confessed, before sitting up and watching the two unlikely friends.

"hoholy crap...I think Patton needs a good tickle as well!" Virgil said, hugging the giggly Patton in his arms.

"Ooh! I'll gladly help with that! Logan, you coming?" Roman asked.

Logan smiled. "Sure." he said, before heading over.

#ticklefic #lee!logan #ler!roman #giggles #uno

40 notes · View notes

literallyusuk · 5 years ago

Text

Song of the Sea (USUK) Chapter 1

Summary: An unmarked Clubs Queen with a secret. A Spades King that can't help falling in love. A Clubs King desperate to hold onto what is his. A Spades Prince blinded by jealousy.

Oh, and that secret? Big enough to send the two Kingdoms plunging into war if it were to come out.

Notes: Alternate title: Smells Fishy.

Hello hello! Yet another new story that I don't have fully written out yet, but by golly I love this one so much. The beginning chapters are fleshed out and edited from an rp I did with my friend @aziraho. ^0^ I hope you'll enjoy this one! Please let me know what you think!

Warnings: There’s one curse word in it for now. Will get steamy later tho.

~~~

The Clubs castle had, for a day, become something more vibrant and beautiful than ever before. The cold King of the North had never held celebrations before – no birthdays, no weddings, no holidays or anniversaries – so it was a shock to every royal to receive an invitation, and even more so when they saw the event; the birthday of the Queen of Clubs.

People only knew the Queen’s name, Arthur Kirkland, and that he was a fair man with green eyes. Arthur never travelled outside of Clubs- or even outside of the castle, really. The Queen of Clubs was not even the true Queen, bearing no mark on his body, but since there hadn’t been a Chosen Queen for over a century, no one questioned the arrangement.

It seemed King Ivan had been lucky enough to marry for love…though the other royals couldn’t even remember receiving a wedding announcement.

Clubs Keep glittered in the evening, for once a warm gold instead of the cold blue of ice under the moonlight. The very air seemed warmer as well, though many of the guests still had cloaks and capelets draped over their shoulders. The party was in full swing in the Grand Ballroom, with tables of food and drink lining the walls and a band in the corner and a dance floor taking up the centre of the space. Laughter drifted to the ceiling, perhaps a bit muted for a celebration, but still there.

The Queen of Clubs inclined his head in thanks at yet another murmured congratulations and moved further along the room. He was dressed from head to toe in Clubs green and gold. His trousers and jacket were a deep, hunger green, while his gold-trimmed cloak was a more vibrant hue. Messy blond hair stuck out from underneath a heavy crown, and his gait was as smooth as the rolling waves.

He ignored the false King of Spades’ attempts to get his attention, his eyes rather trained on the similarly dressed figure exiting the room into the hallway. Curiosity piqued, he followed. He made no sound as he left, and couldn’t help rolling his eyes at what he eventually found.

The Spadian had stopped next to a mirror and was, for lack of a better word, peacocking in front of it. Smiling and smirking to himself, running a hand down the side of his long dark blue and silver coat to smooth it down and momentarily allowing the rapier at his hip to be visible.

“The food had better be good,” he muttered, “for why else would I entertain myself with this miserable place? Even the inside seems frozen over.”

Arthur had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s not a very kingly thing to say, is it?” he asked quietly, stepping closer. Of course he knew this man was the true King of Spades, and it wasn’t hard to see exactly what kind of person this King was; pompous, full of himself, a spoilt brat of a royal. “Especially out in the open, where anyone could hear.”

Those blue eyes locked onto Arthur’s figure through the mirror. The King of Spades ran his fingers through his low ponytail nonchalantly and didn’t bother turning around. “Perhaps it isn’t,” he replied, voice playful and recognizing no guilt. “A good King spins pleasant lies, but a great King speaks the truth. At least, that’s what my father always told me.”

“Hmm.” Arthur neither sounded nor looked impressed.

The other man finally turned to face him, offering a polite smile. “He also told me not many royals would agree with that.” The modest grin spread, revealing white teeth that contrasted with his tanned skin. “The Kingdom of Spades wishes you a happy birthday, even though it seems that you’re not enjoying too much of it. It’s a pleasure, Queen Arthur. Ivan has weaved many tales about you, and you are even lovelier than he gave you credit for.” He reached his hand out to the Queen, palm upward, was the custom.

For a moment, it seemed as though Arthur would refuse the King’s gesture and leave the hand hanging there, but eventually he reached out and delicately placed his hand atop the other man’s. This was definitely a child of a ruler, but Arthur knew he had to be at least polite, or he’d get it from Ivan later. That’s the last thing I need, to top this whole farce off, he thought bitterly, but forced a smile onto his face. “Thank you for your wishes,” he replied, coolly if not a little coldly.

The Spadian King’s touch was surprisingly gentle on the Queen’s hand as he brought it up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the gloved back. He spoke a formality in Old Spadian before releasing the hand, pocketing his own deep into his coat. The bow had released a few strands of hair from his ponytail that now fell into his face- which would have made him look aloof if not for the smile.

Holding himself perfectly still, Arthur didn’t even look like he was breathing until he had been released.

The King kept on grinning. “Has dear King Ivan stepped on your feet one too many times to deserve to be left alone on the dance floor? He did have that habit, at least back when we were young.”

“I thank you for your concern, but I merely wished to step outside for a moment for some air. You need not worry yourself with Ivan’s dancing.” Despite himself, Arthur’s smile twisted into a smirk. “Though knowing your kind, I suppose if I’d given you the opportunity, you would have started waxing on about how great of a dancer you are?”

“I learned my dances from the best,” the King replied, leaning his shoulder against the ice. “It seems I’ve been caught before my escape plan could come to fruition, so I could prove my prowess to you on the dance floor if you’d like, my Queen.”

He was talking, of course, about the false King of Spades that was weaving through the crowd back in the ballroom.

Arthur resisted the urge to snort. Yeah, this King was exactly what he’d expected. “Escape plan, hmm? And are you sure it’s wise to be telling me about that?” he asked, one of his eyebrows arching. “I could very well be offended that you find a party in my honour so dull. It would be the simplest thing to tell my…loving King about the slight you’ve given us.” He completely ignored the offer to dance.

“Oh, that old boy would just laugh it off, don’t I know him,” the other man said, shrugging away the notion that anything bad might have come from his unorthodox behaviour. He glanced to Arthur. “If you want, I could take you with me.”

Arthur did let out a laugh at that. “Stealing away the Queen? You are bold, my dear King of Spades. I can almost appreciate that.” He half-turned, smirking at the other royal and staring at him from half-lidded eyes. He definitely didn’t miss how the Spades King appeared dumbstruck for a moment. “Unfortunately, I will have to decline. I actually have duties to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me…” He started walking back towards the ballroom, though paused after just a few steps. “Pity you won’t be sticking around. Perhaps I would have taken you up on that dance later on. Though, this might be for the best. I’m sure you wouldn’t have been able to keep up with me anyway,” he murmured, his smirk widening as he left the bait hanging there in front of the King’s open mouth and continued forward.

Confident that he’d be seeing more of the actual Spades King later on, Arthur weaved easily through the crowd. He ignored both servants and nobility, and took extra care to avoid the King of Diamonds. King Francis was an aggressive flirt with an abrasive personality that reminded Arthur too much of him- the cause of all of Arthur’s troubles. And Arthur really didn’t want to cause a huge scene by punching another royal. Out of the corner of his eye he once again saw the false Spades King trying to get his attention, and was happy to ignore that man too. Though the thought of going up to the imposter did cross his mind briefly, he was just as quick to brush it away. There was no point, really. He’d met the real one already, for all that was worth.

He made a beeline for the refreshment tables instead, and especially the lone platter of salty mackerel and tuna. There were only a few pieces left, to his annoyance, and he was quick to snap them all up. Politeness be damned, saltwater fish were a delicacy. Ivan didn’t often allow them into the castle. Munching away on the last of the tuna, he allowed a neutral, almost content expression to settle over his face.

“Arthur,” a low voice murmured to him a few minutes later.

Arthur turned to meet Ivan’s violet eyes. His back stiffened. “Ivan.”

“Where were you? You vanished.” The Clubs King’s mouth stretched down into a soft pout.

“I didn’t go outside,” Arthur immediately snapped, though he kept his voice low enough that no one else would notice. “The air in here grew stifling.”

“It always gets stifling when you’re pressed into the corners. The dance floor looks like it has more room.” Ivan gave him a small, hopeful smile. “Dance with me, my Queen?”

The request was a simple one. Such a simple one, phrased so innocently, but Arthur knew better, and he couldn’t dare refuse. Instead, he returned a bland smile to the taller man. “Of course, my King. It would be my absolute pleasure.”

Ivan’s smile faded somewhat, though he still took hold of Arthur’s elbow and led him to the dance floor. Some of the murmuring voices hushed as royalty and nobility alike turned to watch the host King and Queen dance. The pair moved well together, if a bit rigidly. Arthur made no excess movements, no effort to dance with grace. He moved mechanically, like an automaton, and a few times it almost seemed like Ivan had to pull and tug him along. The King of Clubs watched him carefully as they spun and twirled.

“Arthur, please,” he whispered when the music shifted to a second song and nothing changed. He leaned in for a kiss.

At the last second, Arthur turned his face so Ivan’s lips pressed against his cheek. “You asked me to dance. I’m dancing.”

His mouth opened, but then Ivan just sighed and pouted again.

Arthur ignored him. His green eyes swept the crowd to where everyone not dancing was looking at them and seemed to be talking amongst themselves. He spotted the two Kings of Spades next to each other, the crown back on the rightful man’s head. Briefly, he wondered what a dance with the other King might look like. Would it be more or less of a farce than this? He waved the thoughts away and focused his gaze on the clasp of Ivan’s cloak as he waited for it to be over.

It seemed as if the man had heard his thoughts, because at the next quick break the musicians used to tune their instruments, there was a touch on his arm. Arthur flinched, then turned to meet the eyes of the King of Spades.

“I believe you owe me a challenge, fair Queen,” the blond man said, ignoring Ivan and the murmuring crowd around them.

Arthur’s expression didn’t betray any emotion. “My, how eager you are to lose,” he murmured. “It hasn’t even been an hour.” Then, seeming to remember himself, he glanced to Ivan. “May I?”

Glancing between the two of them, Ivan eventually nodded. His grip tightened on Arthur’s body. “We will dance more later?”

“…Of course.” Arthur smiled at him and then disentangled himself, stepping closer to the other King. “Very well, King Alfred. Let us see where those dances from the best left you.” He didn’t spare Ivan a glance as the Clubs King retreated to the side of the ballroom.

Alfred accepted Arthur’s hand and confidently led him to the centre of the dance floor. “Say,” he said, before the music started. “I couldn’t help but to notice the tension between you and your King. You are…alright, are you not?”

Arthur couldn’t help the small amount of warmth that coiled in his stomach at Alfred’s question. It was…sweet, even though it was sad that he had to ask it in the first place. “I’m fine,” he replied. “There is nothing you need to concern yourself with. I am unhurt, and this is my home.” He gave Alfred a polite, distant smile.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Alfred told him.

The music swelled and the Spadian King immediately took a strong lead in their dance. He moulded his steps to the music rather than a rigid pattern, and Arthur was so surprised that for a moment it was all he could do was follow. His body, lax with shock, was whirled and moved by Alfred’s will alone. Alfred wasn’t too forceful, though, and once Arthur had recovered he was able to push back against him. He spun faster and stepped out further, forcing Alfred to chase after him a little bit.

He didn’t stop there, stepping into Alfred’s personal space to force him in the direction that he wanted to go- almost as if he was trying to take the lead occasionally. To his surprise Alfred was game for it, following for a little while before tugging the lead back. A spin, followed by a dip, and Alfred was leaning over Arthur, smiling down at him warmly.

Arthur very pointedly tried to ignore the way his heart leapt, both at the dip and the sight of Alfred’s bright smile above him. His eyes slid to the side, and he allowed Alfred a few beats of control again while he composed himself. Snap out of it, Arthur. Don’t you dare get any foolish ideas. He rebalanced himself and seized the lead, spinning Alfred out even further than before, then reeling him back in until they all but crashed into each other. He barely gave Alfred time to breathe before they were moving again, whirling around the perimeter of the dance floor.

“You’re not doing as badly as I feared you would, I’ll admit,” he said, smirking up at the King. “But this dancing is still nothing special.” The dancing he really loved, really poured his heart and soul into, he hadn’t been able to do in what felt like eons. It was slowly fading from his memory. Arthur roughly dipped the taller man to distract himself, his green eyes gleaming in the light of the chandeliers.

“Oh, well thank you, Your Majesty,” Alfred replied, his voice teasing, before a ‘whoa’ escaped his lips at the dip. He laughed loudly as he came back up, and smiled even louder. They moved away from one another, hands still linked, and when they came back together Alfred used the opportunity to take back the dance, pulling the Queen a little bit closer than when they had started and adjusting his pace to the slower melody that now played. “My offer to steal you away still stands, Queen Arthur. There are many dances out there to be danced, for fun, not for a good show for a bunch of stuck-up nobles who see us as walking bags of gold.”

At this, however, Arthur’s energy diminished somewhat, and the line of his shoulders grew rigid. Alfred was foolish, true, and childish, and bright and warm, but he was also dangerous. Unquestionably dangerous. The Clubs Queen had forgotten himself, his place. Arthur’s relief was palpable as the music faded, and he stopped his dancing when they were off to the side.

“And how do you know,” he asked quietly, removing himself from Alfred’s hold, “that I haven’t been stolen already?” For the first time in his life, he was glad to see Ivan waving him over. “It seems I’m being summoned. Thank you for the dance, now please excuse me.”

Inclining his head to Alfred, he then spun around on his heel and strode to his King’s side. This time when Ivan’s arm snaked around Arthur’s shoulders, his face didn’t betray any expression at all.

“I wish you’d dance like that with me,” Ivan mused.

Arthur didn’t respond, and luckily Ivan didn’t press him to. Instead, they did another round of the room, Ivan chatting with various nobility and Arthur trying not to look too bored. The Jack of Hearts gave him a sympathetic glance when they passed, though Arthur’s returning look was quite chilly. He didn’t need sympathy. He didn’t need pity. Anger and hatred fuelled him, would keep him going until the time was right.

“Alfred!” Ivan called, jolting Arthur out of his thoughts. “Matthew! I haven’t properly introduced my Queen to you- well, at least to one of you.” He glanced curiously to Alfred, and his grip on Arthur was almost possessive.

Turning his attention to Matthew, Arthur gave a stiff bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty,” Matthew replied, offering a bow in return.

Alfred stuck his hands into the pockets of his cloak and gave Ivan a questioning look. “King Ivan, I’m perplexed that you didn’t invite us to the wedding! Surely a loving couple like yourselves must have had a grand celebration!”

Sighing softly, Matthew elbowed his brother in the ribs. “What he meant to say,” he said with an apologetic smile, “was that we regret missing such an occasion and wish we could have given our congratulations to the couple at the proper time.”

Ivan shifted on his feet. “Yes, well-”

“There was no wedding,” Arthur said shortly. “We aren’t married.”

“Arthur…” Ivan peered mournfully down at his Queen, and his brows furrowed even more when he was ignored.

“There are also no plans for marriage in the future.” Arthur’s voice was low and firm. “I am Queen in name, and Ivan is my King, but marriage between us is inconceivable.”

The two Spadians glanced between each other for a long while. “Well, I hope your rule is fruitful despite this,” Matthew finally said after a moment.

“Thank you. Ivan isn’t as much of an idiot as his predecessors, so I’m sure that under his rule Clubs will begin to return more to its former glory,” Arthur said sweetly, glancing up at Ivan. “Isn’t that right, love?” His smile was razor sharp.

Ivan looked uncomfortable for a moment, before his eyes hardened. “Where is your coat, Arthur?”

Arthur’s expression darkened. The power play between them was multi-layered and nuanced, but the Queen knew when he he’d stepped out of bounds. “I’m afraid I misplaced it, my King,” he gritted out. “I apologize.” Shifting his attention to Matthew and Alfred, he bowed to them again. His eyes lingered on the Spades King’s features for a touch longer than necessary. “Some of the nobles are looking quite ignored. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go…entertain them.”

He all but wrenched his arm from Ivan’s grip and stalked away, back towards the food tables. There was nothing left that interested him, but if he was at least nibbling on something, most of the nobility would leave him alone. Most.

“Queen Arthur,” someone said.

Arthur’s mood further darkened when he turned around and spotted one of the older Clubs Lords behind him. “Can I help you?”

The man smiled thinly. “I was hoping I would be able to snag a dance with the False Queen before the night was over.”

“Don’t call me that, and you just might,” Arthur replied stiffly.

“Of course, of course, Your Majesty.” The Lord reached out and snatched up Arthur’s hands, dragging him to the dance floor. “You’ll forgive me, I hope, if I’m a bit rusty. It’s been so long since I’ve last danced, and even longer since my last one with you.”

“Not long enough,” Arthur muttered.

“Hmm?”

“I said, it’s been long enough, since Clubs had something to celebrate.”

“Indeed.” The Lord yanked Arthur more tightly against himself. “Don’t you get bored here?”

Arthur eyed the man sharply. “What’s your point?”

“You seem…agitated. Frustrated.”

“I wonder why.” The Queen bit back a growl as he was pulled even closer to the older man’s body.

“The Blizzard Council still isn’t sure what involvement you might have had in King Petr’s death.”

One of Arthur’s eyebrows arched. “Are you accusing your Queen without proof?”

“You bear no mark. You are not Clubs’ true Queen.”

“And yet I’ve been crowned. I suggest you don’t overstep your boundaries, Lord Morozov.”

The Lord gave a cruel smile. “And I suggest you don’t forget what you are, pet.”

Arthur wrenched himself free. “Don’t you dare call me that,” he spat, no longer able to keep his expression neutral.

Nearly everyone in the room turned to look at them. Disgusted but also embarrassed at the scene, he whirled away and stalked towards the doors.

“Arthur!” Ivan called, hurrying to intercept him and leaving a confused Alfred and Matthew in his wake.

Arthur shot him a glare cold enough to stop the King in his tracks before continuing out of the room. Though part of him was curious as to Alfred’s exact expression, he didn’t allow himself to look. He didn’t allow himself to hope.

His hands clenched tightly at his sides when he finally managed to escape the ballroom. ‘This will be a good opportunity,’ the Blizzard Council had promised. Arthur snorted. Good opportunity for what? Parading him around? Pushing him until he snapped and did something to embarrass Clubs? There was little love lost between the Council and the Queen. They’d always disliked the fact Arthur had been crowned, and he’d always hated them by virtue of their humanity. Ivan’s fondness of him protected Arthur from them, but also kept him trapped in Clubs.

He growled and slammed the door to the royal baths shut behind him. One of the pools was soon filled with lukewarm water and Arthur fell back into it, clothes and all. Only beneath the water was he able to relax a little bit, and time slipped away from him as he soaked. The water was freezing by the time he finally rose out of it. He stripped from the damp clothes, leaving them in a sopping pile by the poolside, and put on a thin white nightgown after rubbing a towel through his hair.

It wasn’t long after that he stalked through the gardens, his sandy hair gleaming almost silver under the light of the full moon. His feet were bare as he stole along the snow-dusted path. The weather had been a touch milder than usual so there was only about an inch of snow on the ground, but it was still enough for him to leave a trail of footprints. The thin fabric of the nightgown shivered and bowed against the wind, but Arthur still walked confidently towards the far corner of the castle grounds.

The old Astronomer’s Tower speared the sky near the joining of the northern and eastern walls. It was also known as the Old Tower and the North Tower; lately, ‘Queen’s Tower’ and ‘Monster’s Tower’ had been added to the list of names. No one stopped Arthur along the way, and there was no one inside the tower to meet him. He’d claimed it as his own, and everyone within the castle walls knew it. The Queen climbed the one hundred and fifty steps alone, lit a few candles in the empty room at the top, and then stepped out onto the balcony to commence his nightly vigil.

“You’ll freeze to your death here yet,” a voice murmured sometime later, warm hands draping a heavy cloak over his shoulders.

Stiffening at the touch, Arthur’s eyes jerked from the far horizon to focus on Alfred’s face. When he recognized the Spadian King he relaxed a little bit, though his expression was still wary as he assessed the situation. His arms moved up, fingers trailing through the fur trimmings. Goosebumps rippled across his skin from the shift in temperature.

“Alfred. What are you doing here? This is yours, you should wear it. You’re not as used to the cold as I am.” He started shrugging the cloak off.

“Hey, don’t you worry about me,” Alfred said, the corners of his lips quirking up. “I basically grew up on the seas and docks. These little inland breezes have nothing on a good ol’ storm out on the open sea.” He reached out, only to pull the cloak tighter around Arthur’s shoulders.

Despite himself, Arthur managed a small smirk. “Oh trust me, I know how rough the seas can get.” Even if he hadn’t felt it in ages, and most certainly had a different perspective. He turned his head to the side, eyes seeking out the horizon once more, though he didn’t step away from Alfred’s body.

“I wanted to check on you, too,” Alfred continued. “I uh- Ivan seemed pretty upset, heh, at me too when I told him he should maybe lay off the awkward attempts at husband emulation. I know he can be a bit rash, so I dunno. I guess I got a bit worried when I saw you marching through snow barefoot.”

Arthur’s hands fisted in the fabric of the cloak. “Ivan seemed upset, did he?” he spat, anger simmering within his expression. “Did Ivan send you here as well? Are you his spy now? If so, then kindly fuck off. I neither need nor want your forced concern.”

“I am nobody’s spy, Queen Arthur. I did not have to leave my nice and warm chambers to trudge through snow and walk up stairs to check on you, and I certainly wouldn’t do all of this if Ivan had asked me to. I am half-blind, my feet are soaked from the snow, and my hair has never seen a worse day- yet I’m still here, offering you my concern.” Alfred ran a hand through his tangled hair. “By the Mage, you are difficult. If you don’t want me here, just say so and I’ll go back between my silken sheets and forget I scaled half the castle and most of the courtyard by hearing because – imagine – I was worried about you.”

Arthur couldn’t help it; he burst into laughter. The merriment shook his frame and echoed in the still air. After a moment, he lifted part of the cloak to cover his mouth and try to stifle it. Really, how much more spoilt could someone get? Immediately moaning about silken sheets and damp shoes and a bad hair day. Oh, that had certainly made Arthur’s night. Slowly, his laughs faded away and he took a few deep breaths. His eyes slid over to meet Alfred’s annoyed gaze, then focused on the banister of the balcony.

The Queen released the cloak and placed his hands instead into the inch or so of snow gathered there. “Why were you worried?” he asked softly. “I am not your Queen, so why do you care? This has nothing to do with you.”

“Should I not care for my brother because he is not my Queen? Should I not care for my people because they aren’t royalty? Should I turn a deaf ear to the calls of the occupied Kingdoms because they are not on my land? You are not my Queen, but neither are you Ivan’s, and if not him, then there must be someone else to worry about you. Being forgotten is a fate worse than many other.”

Arthur’s fingertips scraped against the stone of the banister. He ignored the burning pain that shot up his forearms. “I am Ivan’s Queen. For better or worse, I am the current Queen of Clubs, so don’t you dare say otherwise. As to being forgotten, well. I think I would prefer that path to the one I’ve been forced to follow.”

“For worse, considering your King is courting a Prince of Spades,” Alfred said, his voice seeping with bitterness. He reached out a moment later, laying his hand softly on Arthur’s. “What’s going on in this castle? It feels like everyone is miserable here.”

The touch startled Arthur out of his thoughts. He shook away questions like It was a good thing, right? and Would he be replaced if Ivan and Matthew took things further? and Would he lose the only bargaining chip he had? and had to avert his gaze. If he looked into those bright blue eyes for too long he might spill everything, and then it really would be the end.

“Everyone is miserable here,” he managed to say with a somewhat steady voice. “After all, we live in eternal winter.” By that point his feet and hands had gone numb from the cold, and his lips were taking on a blue tint.

“Your people make the best of it. Those who remain, anyway,” Arthur said, before gently taking Arthur’s hand off the cold stone and into his own, warm fingers trying to rub some heat back into the frozen skin. “We should get you inside,” he murmured. “The guests are all gone by now and the King is busy in his study. You should be able to relax in the warmth.”

But Arthur shook his head. “No, I’d like to stay here a bit longer.” He shivered at the contact between them, watching how Alfred’s fingers moved against his skin. “I can never relax in there. This is the only place I feel…” Free. “You don’t have to stay with me. If you wish to go back to your comforts, then go ahead.”

“Very well. I’ll stay too, in that case.” The young King took the Queen’s other hand as well and moved closer to him, offering body heat that seemed to outlast any cold weather that Clubs could throw at him. He remained silent after that, watching the stars as his fingers kneaded Arthur’s delicate skin, trying to keep it from completely freezing.

Arthur lifted his eyes to Alfred’s face then, taking in the planes and shadows of his features under the light of the night sky. “We can at least share the cloak, can we not?” He slipped his hands from Alfred’s and slung the heavy cloth around the taller man’s shoulders as well, then slowly stepped even closer to him until they were nearly flush together. Afterward, he ducked back under the edge of it, and his hands automatically reached for Alfred’s again. “Ah.” He froze before he could touch him, though. “Is this alright?”

Though Alfred had tensed at the closeness, and momentary shock and surprised flitted across his face, he was soon smiling. He positioned Arthur so they could both hide in the cover of the warm fabric. His smile widened and became more encouraging when he saw Arthur’s hesitation, and he closed the distance between their hands himself.

“Quite. Let’s try to keep you warm, hm?” he murmured, thumbs now trailing more meandering patterns into that pale skin, careful and appreciative as if bent on learning all there was to Arthur’s hands.

Warmth coiled in Arthur’s belly the moment his hands were cradled within Alfred’s again. It felt foreign, but not unwelcome. For a while, he watched their joined hands, but before long his gaze was pulled towards the mountains. “If I look long and hard enough,” he confessed, his voice barely audible, “it sometimes feels as though I’m able to see the ocean again from here.”

Alfred followed Arthur’s eyes to the mountains, beyond which the Devil’s Sea lay, frozen over and desolate of life. “Did you live by the sea before?” he asked.

“Yes, you could say I did.”

“It’s gorgeous this time of year, isn’t it?”

“I…think I remember it being so. I haven’t seen it in so long I confess it’s fading from my memory.”

Alfred hummed. “The fish swim so close to the surface that the water looks as if it were made of pure silver, and the spring storms clean away any filth. It smells fresh, like a new beginning. Like home.” He then chuckled, squeezing Arthur’s freezing hands more tightly. “A bit like you.”

Arthur’s fingers twitched, and one of his eyebrows arched high as he tilted his head up to glance at Alfred’s face again. “I smell like home? Well that’s highly unlikely. Are you sure the cold isn’t getting to you?”

Alfred laughed. “You smell like the sea, Art,” he said, grinning. “Y’know, a little fishy.”

“How rude of you,” Arthur said, though his tone was still light. He smiled a bit more as he eased one of his hands free and used it to scoop up some snow. In a flash he had deposited it onto Alfred’s face, practically cupping the Spades King’s cheek as he pressed the snow to his skin. “Also, my name is not ‘Art’.”

Alfred, master of all combat, failed to see the attack coming. He gasped, quickly scraping the freezing snow off his skin and pressing what he could salvage against Arthur instead. He grinned at Arthur’s gasp. “Your nickname is,” he said, chuckling and, a little sheepishly, took to brushing the rest of the snow off Arthur’s cheek. “King Alfred the Rude? Sounds as good as anything.”

Arthur couldn’t help laughing at their antics. What were they, children? The whole situation was foolish, but…he found he didn’t really mind. “It certainly fits you,” he teased, leaning the tiniest bit into Alfred’s fingers while they were still against his skin.

They seemed to curl a little more, caressing him, before Alfred took his hand away. “but really, why not visit it then, if you’re forgetting what the sea is like? Surely you could take a diplomatic trip to the Spades shores? It’s beautiful there, and the people are nice.”

As warm as his insides had gotten from the nickname and the gentle brush of Alfred’s fingers against his cheek, Arthur’s core flared hotter still at the offer. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself; it had been a long, long while since spending time, alone, in such close quarters with a man had left him so relaxed. So…longing for more. He adjusted the edge of the cloak so it rose higher around his shoulders, covering his cheeks reddened from the snow and the warmth he felt inside.

But…

“As tempting as your offer of a visit sounds, it would be impossible. I’m not- I’m unable to leave here.” The Queen bit down on his lip. Well that sounds suspicious- shit. “I made…a promise to Ivan, and I intend to keep it. But thank you.” He offered Alfred a small, slightly sad smile.

Alfred’s own smile dulled as he averted his gaze, as if realizing the intimate atmosphere between them. He cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t have the magic to gift you a likeness of the sea,” he said, slipping back into a more formal manner, “but I will remember to bring you something back from it when I return to Clubs.”

Arthur’s back stiffened. After so long of being so observant of the men around him, he caught the shift within the King instantly. The realization was like a handful of snow shoved against his back, and his own smile fell away. “Don’t trouble yourself,” he told him, stepping out from underneath the cloak. “I tend to stay up here for hours. Really, you should return to your chambers now. You’ll have a long journey home tomorrow.”

Alfred sighed when he found himself alone against the cold once more. “Arthur,” he began, then hesitated, then stepped after the Queen, catching him by the waist and pulling him close. “I wish our circumstances were different, my Queen, but I will come back for you, even if just to lay my eyes on you again,” he vowed, releasing Arthur once he’d finished speaking. He threw his cloak over Arthur’s shoulders and gave him a dashing Spadian smile as he moved towards the stairs. “Just give it back to me next time, kay?”

This time it was Arthur who moved after Alfred, reaching out to catch him by the wrist. His eyes were wider than usual, and his heartbeat hammered in his ears. What was he doing, what was he doing? “My King, I-”

In a moment of selfishness, he adjusted the cloak more snugly around his shoulders instead of giving it back. He wanted Alfred to return for him. He wanted what Alfred was promising, despite the fear humming in his veins. In his heart. As Alfred turned to look at him, Arthur leaned up and pressed the tiniest of kisses to the King’s cheek. His cold lips brushed more against beard than skin, and were gone after not even a second had passed.

“Thank you, for both your concern and your company. It wasn’t awful spending time with you, I suppose,” he said, his lips quirking upward.

“I guess I didn’t have too awful of a time, either,” he replied, resting his hand on Arthur’s for a moment. Then, as if the King had been left behind so easily, he grinned and in a thick accent more suited for the fields than a castle said, “I’ll see ya ‘round, Art.” With a wave over his shoulder he was then gone, trudging back towards the main castle.

Oh heavens above, Alfred would actually be the end of him. Arthur buried his face into the warm cloak and let out a groan. That accent, and that goddamn nickname. It was infuriating and somewhat frightening how quickly Alfred was slipping past all of his carefully erected and maintained barriers. The Queen watched the King’s small figure on the ground until he was gone from sight, and then let out a sigh as he once more turned towards the mountains. The sea was there, just beyond them. Arthur could almost feel it singing to him, but he could neither hear it nor leave his gilded cage to answer.

He only left the tower when the moon started sinking low in the sky and slipped back into the castle with only a few guards for witnesses. The heavy cloak was stowed in the very back of his wardrobe, and when he finally slid into bed, he fell asleep to the burn in his limbs as warmth returned to them.

In the morning he watched from his bedroom balcony as the Spadian procession left. Matthew led the small column, the King’s prize war steed tied to the Prince’s young Arabian. The King himself was draped over the neck of his mount, as if an exotic pelt that snored very, very loudly. Arthur could even hear a few from his balcony before the group left the castle grounds, and he smiled.

If he allowed himself to think that Alfred’s tired state was due to him, well, there was no one there to bear witness or argue.

#usuk #hetalia #aph america #aph england #cardverse #aph russia #aph canada #chapters

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mini-pretzel · 6 years ago

Text

the stranger 1

Genre: angst, fluff, light smut

Music: loser

Additional tags: mentions of smut, lots of angsttttt, mention of death

Word count: 10k

A/N: so this was supposed to be a oneshot, a simple one time story. but knowing me things escalated quickly.

In which a mint haired stranger is all that’s on your mind.

He was on your mind again. It’s gotten worse than before; how insistent your thoughts were about him.

At first it was only a few innocent questions floating around in your brain of how he was doing and what he was up to, then it grew into something along the lines of wanting to feel his body against yours again. To feel his cold fingers graze the back of your neck and down your collarbones, to feel his breath against the goosebumps on your skin, to feel a smile form against your cheek as he thrust into you that much deeper.

At this point it’s become quite bothersome how invested you were in this man. And, to be honest, what were you so invested in him for? You didn’t even known his name, or anything about him for that matter.

You had only met him once, weeks ago at a party you attended simply because Jimin dragged you there. The guy had gotten sick and tired with you always moping around. So, he had decided to kidnap you as his hostage for the night, his intentions being very clear: not one more sad and lonely night on your couch with a disturbing amount of alcohol, ice cream and take out boxes full of deep fried noodles. Not one. You were better than that. You were done with that.

But Jimin understood your predicament. Break-ups were shit - he knew that all too well.

And even though you had been dumped recently and for others that turn of events had come out of nowhere, deep in your heart you knew why it had to be that way and, sadly, it was of no surprise to you.

You were with your ex, Minhyuk, for a while and things were great at first. You got comfortable with one another pretty quickly. At some point it had even seemed as though you were going to make it in the long run, with your interactions filled with knowing smirks and inside jokes.

You both had wanted the same things, had similar aspirations, goals and you clicked. But, a couple months back, when problems started to show their ugly head, tension started to pile up and cause misunderstandings to arise--and it became difficult to see eye to eye--it hurt you. It seemed as though it started with the smallest of things that could be fixable, but quickly grew into larger, more serious issues that allowed no room for compromise.

For example, you had wanted to get a cat, meanwhile he hated cats with a burning passion, calling them demon spawns, and opted the two of you got a dog instead. You didn’t.

You wanted to travel the world and learn about different cultures, meanwhile he was already well-travelled and hated the idea. He had said the idea was too romanticized and impractical.

You wanted to save up for a house and it turned out he hated houses. He was always frivolous with his spending; much preferring to buy designer clothes and expensive foreign colognes that made your nose sting and eyes water. Your once quiet evenings were suddenly filled with passive-aggressive quips and choking tensions or full-blown fights with resolution in sight.

It was difficult to see your relationship deteriorate at such a slow pace with no way out. It felt like a car crash in slow motion that you couldn’t look away from, too entranced to unbuckle the seat belt fast enough to get out.

So when he sat you down at that coffee shop down the street from where you lived--the coffee shop you first met him at (funny how those things worked)--you already knew exactly what was going to be said and how much it would hurt.

You had loved him, despite all of his flaws and your incompatibility. And a part of you foolishly held onto the belief that maybe, just maybe, if you two stuck it out you’d get past your differences and would be able to make a life together that you both would be proud of.

In your head, you had built up the perfect life with him; a home full of love, a deck with flowers, a tabby cat that would somehow win over his heart when he follow him home, and maybe, possibly even a ring. The promise of forever. You had hoped for that, you had worked so hard to keep your relationship from shattering for that. That ideal life with him.

Unfortunately, Minhyuk did not share the same sentiment. He laid out his feelings about you very openly on the table. And at that moment, with you sitting in that awfully comfortable chair across from him--with coffee in front of you that you didn’t dare to touch because of the knots in your stomach--staring at into his eyes and knowing fully well that it would be the last time you would see his face, you felt a realization dawn on you. You realized how hopeless it all had been.

“I just think it would be better for the both of us.” you heard him say as your image of him became a blur.

“Plus, I already have someone else I’ve been getting close to.”

And that was it. The straw that broke the camel’s back.

You felt the tears trail down your cheeks.

You cried over the failure that was your relationship, you cried over the years spent trying to fix what otherwise should have been signs that it would never work out, you cried over how you let him walk over you and your all-too-kind heart, you cried over always letting him win arguments because all you wanted was to be happy with him, and you cried over the fact that he had been completely not what you imagined, completely unlike the ideal imagine you had concocted in your mind.

The real him was sitting in front of you, stark different from the person you had created in your head.

And, finally, you cried over the life you would never get to live with him. The perfect, ideal life that was never meant to be.

After that, it felt as if something had been ripped out of your soul--your heart, most likely--and you didn’t have an appropriate way to cope.

So, you secluded yourself in your apartment, away from everyone in your life and threw yourself a pity party that lasted long enough for one of your closest friends, Jimin, to notice and grow increasingly concerned over.

So that’s why you were at that party that night, with a drink in your hand that was much more sweet than alcoholic, eyeing around the room in hopes of finding a quiet spot to slip away to and hide because you just did not want to be there…

That’s when he had caught your eye, or more like, his hair did. His mint green fluffy hair that looked too soft and perfectly styled, making you want to run your hands through it and tousle it into a fine mess. It was unusual, to see that colour worn so boldly, it had been evidently bleached by an expert and dyed to look the perfect shade.

You found yourself swallowing, you hands suddenly feeling extra clammy around your glass as the feeling of eagerness washed over you. You found yourself wanting to go over to start a conversation despite the nervous pricks in your stomach. You were ready to face the anxiety that usually held you back, just to hear what his voice sounded like. You bet it sounded gentle to the ear as his whole presence seemed calming and reassuring somehow.

And before your mind could register what you were doing--and stop you, like it always did, because this was not like you--you were on your way over to him, eyes glued onto his relaxed stature and the humble-sized biceps that were peeking nicely from under his loose tshirt.

You wanted a piece of that calmness he emitted. You wanted to feel that within you, for him to soothe the inner turmoil in your chest. Or maybe you just wanted anything he would give you. You would take anything as long as it was from him.

“Hey,” you had said and cursed yourself at how weak you sounded. You had wanted to make a good impression for some reason. Maybe because he was such a mystery to you and you were enthralled in piecing everything about him together. Figuring him out, who he was, how he worked. Uncloaking every little quirk that made up this mint tinted man.

He turned to you and once your eyes met his you knew you were done for. They were gentler than you anticipated; warm and held a depth that would take years to figure out, but you suddenly were willing to try.

“Hey, yourself.” he said and smiled, eyeing you from up down before meeting your gaze again. He had a gorgeous smile; albeit a little goofy with how his gums flashed so easily, but endearing enough to pull at your heartstrings.

You couldn’t remember what you talked about after that, there had been enough booze in your system to cancel out any information you could have gotten from him; like his age, hobbies or interests, or even his name. But you found yourself not caring, despite the fact you were so enthralled in figuring him out just moments before.

Maybe it was because you were still hurt and healing and all you wanted was company. Maybe because you were lonely and wanted to silence the dull ache with his laugh. Maybe because he was actually showing an interest in you and feeding that part of you that desperately craved that validation only another human being could provide. You didn’t know. All you knew was…

You took him home that night.

It seemed as though you didn’t even have to ask if he wanted to come along with you or not, as he had already made up his mind as soon as he started talking to you. And you didn’t mind that bold confidence or directness. In fact, you reveled in it. Your past few weeks had been so uncertain, so muddy, so bleak, dark and murky, that it was like a breath of fresh air to have someone so sharp and certain take the lead. He was a breath of fresh air, his whole presence was.

You had slept with him, and he took care of you throughout it. You didn’t remember much, that of being intoxicated so strongly thanks to the copious amounts of sugar in your cocktails. You did, however, recall that you cried and that he wasn’t creeped out or turned off by it in the slightest, which in turn made your chest feel even tighter.

He had called you sweetheart and dearest, and kissed you so deeply it felt like as if it meant something to him, like the two of you had been together for years. And all of that was a little too much for you to handle. He had been too caring to someone like you. Someone who was merely a one night stand.

You weren’t stupid, you knew that’s all that it was, all it had to be. Even if your heart was making grandiose leaps into the illusions, the possibilities of something much more.

Your mind was quick to tell your heart just how ridiculous the whole fantasy scenario was. Waking up the next morning to a cold spot next to you had proved it. However, there was something about him that seemed different and it made the thought of him stick with you. You knew there was something about him that made him different -- the perfect night sleep that came with sleeping next to him had confirmed it for you.

So now you were at another party, yearning, hoping to run into him again to see if you could get another taste of his skin. If you closed your eyes you could still remember the way his fingers trailed down your body, phantom touches that were a hazy memory of that intoxicated night. The way his temples got sweaty from going too hard, how his dark eyes gazed over you with a look that you couldn’t place, wouldn’t dare to ask, but wanted to know everything about. The way your bodies fit into each other in such a delicious, satisfying way.

You heard your name and jumped a little out of your skin, imagining it was him saying it like he had done so that night, in his low, gruff but somehow soothing voice. Sadly, this time it was not him.

“What are you so spaced out for?”

An arm snaked around you and you looked to your right to see Jimin’s concerned eyes trailing over your features. Your best friend always was such a worrier, especially when it came to you.

“Just have some work stuff on my mind.” you lied. He didn’t know about your nightly escapade with a mint haired stranger and you wanted to keep it that way. You weren’t ready to tell anyone about it, especially since it had only been just sex and just once. There was something about it, like that little anonymity that made you feel proud and confident, and outing it would break that little illusion for you. You wanted to hold on a little longer to the feeling the whole thing gave you. Maybe, in a few weeks, once you got over him and his charming ways you would come clean. But not now, not when it was all so fresh in your mind.

“Honey, you’re not at work right now. It’s okay to leave those things till later, they will all still be there tomorrow.” Jimin said in his soft voice as he massaged your shoulder which you hadn’t even noticed had become tense in your lie.

Jimin had always called you honey when he wanted to calm your anxiety down, that sweet word had served as your anchor in multiple situations in the past. Many people saw that as him liking you more than a friend or the relationship having connotations that ran deeper than just a normal friendship, but people saw a lot of things that weren’t exactly true.

You smiled, bringing your hand that wasn’t holding a glass of cheap whisky and coke cover his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know, I just… It’s better to think about that than him.”

Jimin nodded knowingly and you felt guilt burn in your stomach because you knew that the two of you were on separate pages when it came to which him you were referencing. The him had changed since that night, but that update was only known to you.

“It’ll all be okay. It takes time, but you’ll be free of him.” Jimin said as he turned his hand to press his palm against yours and you held onto him a little tighter.

You will tell him. “Thanks, Jimin.” But not yet. “It means a lot to me that you’re here.”

“Always, honey.”

You smiled at his words, bringing the cold drink to your lips.

“Now,” your eyes met his and you saw mischief dancing behind them and raised an eyebrow, “Let’s see how many shots we can take before we fall over our asses.”

Your smile turned devious.

“You’re on.”

The next morning the first thing you remember is your consciousness slowly coming back to you from the dark haze of sleep and the undoubtable heaviness in your head.

You were in bed, not yours, but it was familiar. After a few moments of feeling around the fabric and inhaling the scent, your mind made the connection that it was Jimin’s. Which meant your best friend was probably nearby, possibly on the couch or possibly in the kitchen.

But you would have to peel yourself from the sheets to find out for sure.

You cracked your eyes open just enough to sort of make out the shapes of the furniture in the room as you sat up and stretched. You footsteps creaked against the wooden floor as you made your way across the room. After you opened the door, the smell of pancakes and bacon filled your nose. Jimin was definitely up, and definitely in the kitchen.

Hobbling over to the bathroom, you did what you needed to do and washed your face before staring at your reflection for a little too long. Taking in your messy hair, the dark circles under your eyes, that one pimple that Jimin swore was barely noticeable but to you was so prominent on your face you wished you could claw it off. You had no idea how you were attractive enough to land a one night stand, especially with a man as good looking as the mint haired stranger.

Would he even remember you if you met him again? Would he want to repeat that night, if you asked? A small voice inside of you sounded doubtful.

You shut your eyes and sighed deeply. You were not going to get anywhere if you started your day off picking yourself apart; you had promised to be gentler with yourself, especially after your breakup. Well, that promise was mostly because of Jimin and to Jimin. But you promised it to yourself as well, no matter how hard it seemed to be at some moments.

Throwing one last look at yourself in the mirror, your eyes staring back at you with disappointment, you exited the bathroom and made your way down the stairs.

When you got to the kitchen, you were greeted by a very hungover Jimin sitting at the counter and groaning into his palms, and a very chipper Seokjin making breakfast behind it.

You joined Jimin on the island table.

“Remind me again why last night was such a good idea?” you mumbled as you picked the sleep away from your eyes, your sight adjusting to the morning light.

“Because it was fun.” Jimin responded, looking pale in the face and like he didn’t even believe his own words.

“You wouldn’t think that looking at you now, Jimin.” Seokjin retorted and laughed when Jimin sighed dramatically at his quip.

“Shut up old man, you don’t even have the liver to handle the party we went to.” Jimin grumbled as if it was something to be proud of and crossed his arms before slouching in his seat, looking grouchy.

“We both know that’s not true, little man.”

At that Jimin pouted like a child and you used that as the opportunity to change the topic.

“What’s for breakfast?” you asked Seokjin, trying to peer over the counter to see what he was preparing. You could already smell some of it even when you were in the other room, but knowing Seokjin he would put something in there to spice it up.

“Oh you know, the standard,” Seokjin began, “pancakes, bacon, some sausage,” he paused and raised a plate of diced octopus, “and some fried octopi!” he looked so proud of himself you didn’t have the heart to tell him how weird that combination had sounded.

“That’s too much sodium, Jinnie.” Jimin complained in a high-pitched voice.

You nodded, sharing his sentiment. “Anything sweet?” you peered.

“Strawberries.” Jin said with a wink as he held up a large bowl of ripe and radiant looking red berries. You could practically taste them on your tongue - they looked that good.

“Tae would love those.” Jimin said after an audible swallow. “Speaking of which, where is that sucker?” Jimin said to himself as he peeled himself from the seat.

Before Seokjin could open his mouth to respond Jimin was already hobbling over to one of his many guest bedrooms. “Tae! Get your ass up! We’re having strawberries and fried octopus bits for breakfast!”

“He really shouldn’t call them octopus bits.” Jin tsked, “They’re just chopped tentacles.”

“Still doesn’t make it sound any less unappealing.” you admitted, but he just brushed you off and placed a loaded plate in front of you.

“Strawberries only after you finish your food.” he said in a motherly tone as he held up a fork. You rolled your eyes, despite an amused smile playing at your lips, before grabbing it.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to finish all this, Seokjin.”

“Call me Jin, please. We’ve known each other long enough for you to drop the formalities.”

“Okay, Jin it is then.”

Then a silence stretched, save from a couple of your muffled chewing noises and the sound of your fork scratching against the plate.

Jin went over to the fridge and took out a carton of orange juice and later a few classes from the cupboard. He unscrewed the cap and filled a few glasses.

“So, how are you holding up?”

You paused as you stared at him, mouth filled with a mixture of pancake, sausage and chopped octopus. It actually wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Jin knew how to put the right spices to make it work with the dish.

After a moment of confused blinking, you force swallowed the food awkwardly, almost choking and grabbed the glass of orange juice Jin held out to you.

“Thanks.” you breathed after you downed the entirety of its contents in one go. Your chest hurt after that amount of food going down at once. Wincing, you pressed your palm against it as if it would help ease the pain.

Jin shrugged as if his gesture meant nothing, almost as if it had been something that you should have expected for him to do. “So…?”

You stared at him, not knowing what to say. “Are you asking about my break up?”

Jin took a long drink of his juice and nodded. “That, and that mint haired guy you went home with a couple weeks ago.”

Crap. He knew. Oh, crap, Jin knew. If Jin knew that meant-

“Does Jimin-”

“I haven’t told anyone about what I’ve seen. Jimin was too drunk and busy sucking face with Taehyung that night to notice.”

You breathed out a loud sigh, relief filling your chest, but it was soon followed by guilt. You bit your lip, brows furrowing. You would tell Jimin about your one night stand, but not yet. You weren’t ready to deal with him questioning everything about the guy -- a guy you didn’t even know the name of.

“It’s not like that, Jin.” you said, setting the fork aside, suddenly not feeling very hungry. “I don’t usually sleep with guys I hardly know.”

Jin hummed, “I know that, even though I haven’t known you as long as Jimin has.” and something about that line made it sting for you. You repressed a wince.

“I was drunk and not thinking straight-” you began but Jin cut you off with a raise his hand.

“You don’t need to try to defend yourself with me.” Jin sighed, “It’s not my business what you do or who you take to bed,” he said, tone even, “But I do worry if you’re jumping into things a little too soon, or developing feelings for the wrong people while you’re in such a tender state after such a fresh breakup. That,” he said as he poked your nose gently, “is what I have the right to worry about. Especially since I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“Thank you for being concerned, but I’m okay,” you smiled meekly, “I just think I’m going through the rebound phase, it should surely pass.”

Jin nodded, mulling over your words. “I understand. I’m sorry if I seemed too forward, I just don’t want you to start hoping for anything more than a one night stand with that-” his nose scrunched, “that guy.”

It was sweet of him, to worry about you like that. But you were a big girl, you knew it was just a one night stand for both parties that night. And even if you were curious about the man behind that gummy smile, it was still a little too much to-

Then something clicked in your brain and you narrowed your eyes at him before opening your mouth to unleash the words in a cold tone. “What do you mean, Jin? That guy? Why did you say that in that tone?”

Jin looked taken aback by your question and quickly averted his eyes. “Nothing you need to be concerned about. I’m just looking out for you.”

Your jaw clenched. “Bullshit.”

Jin sighed again. “It’s nothing, it’s-”

“No. Don’t bullshit me, Jin. Please. Not you.” you said, your voice steady, despite your hands shaking. “What do you know about him that made you say that? Tell me. You know something, Jin.”

Jin’s stare was heavy as he opened his mouth to say something, that’s when you heard Jimin stomping back to the kitchen.

“Tae is still asleep and it’s so hard to get him out of bed, that mother-” he stopped in his tracks as he surveyed the room and the uncomfortable atmosphere between you two. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No, you didn’t Jimin.” Jin said with a strained smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You mirrored his expression.

“Everything’s fine.” your voice sounded off and you knew it.

He looked between the two of you with a concerned gaze, calculating, before shrugging, and dropped it. “If you say so.”

Just then a yawn erupted behind him, a tanned long slender arm wrapped around his neck and a sleepy Tae appeared from behind him with his hair sticking out in all directions. “Morning, peeps.” he said, stretching and rubbing his eye. “Breakfast?”

“Come and get it while it’s still hot.” Jin was back to his usual motherly persona, and you picked up your fork to move around the food on your plate.

“Sweet,” Taehyung grinned as he made his way towards the table, dragging a protesting Jimin with him by the neck, “I heard something about strawberries.”

“After you finish your food.”

“Yes, mom.”

Jin rolled his eyes as he handed him a plate.

You stole a glance at Jin before making conversation with Taehyung, inquiring about his activities last night.

At some point in your conversation you made eye contact with Jin again, your stare conveying one message and one message only.

You will definitely be finishing that conversation.

Just who was that mint haired gummy smiled stranger that got Jin so worked up?

Unfortunately finishing that conversation would prove to be an unsuccessful pursuit, at least for the past few days. As it turned out, Jin could be very good at hiding if the situation demanded it and he, of course, had no problem applying himself. The fact that he was so hard to get a hold of had set off further alarm bells in your mind. You had to get to the bottom of the situation. You had to find out what he knew and why he was so adamant on not telling you any of it.

Jin wasn’t the type to worry over nothing, so if he was troubled over your one night stand, then something was up. He wasn’t just showing concern, he was warning you about something. But he clearly seemed to be holding back in telling you the reason why. And come hell or high water, you were going to unravel that mystery.

“So yeah, you’ll be there this Saturday, right?”

You blinked, caught off guard before emitting an unsure ‘yeah’ into the receiver. You could hear Jimin sigh softly over the line and you smiled apologetically even though he couldn’t see you.

Your best friend was once again suggesting you attend another party with him. Somewhere between him telling you about his plans to play beer pong and do lots of body shots you got lost in your head over the truth behind that one night stranger. And technically you weren’t against the idea of going, you just didn’t like how depressed you got after too many tequila shots were flowing in your bloodstream. And there was that whole deal with Jin you still had to resolve. You didn’t want the resolution to be at a party.

“I swear, sometimes I think I need to upgrade my best friends list.”

You blinked, quiet for a moment, before letting out a weak laugh. “Sorry, Jimin. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“I can tell.” his voice sounded agitated, but empathetic nonetheless. “You know you can always talk to me, right?”

And there it was again, that ugly guilt forming as a lump in your throat you tried so desperately to swallow before you responded. “Yeah, I know, Jimin.”

Jimin was quiet for a moment.

“I have a preposition.”

“What is it?” you asked immediately, curiosity transparent in your voice.

“Let’s do what we always did when there was too much bothering us.”

A small smile grew on your face because you knew exactly where he was going with that statement.

“Let’s get shit faced and just vent all about our problems to each other, like we did in college.”

“Like about that guy that thought the perfect first date was to take you to a fast food joint?”

Jimin snorted, before responding. “What about that guy that you you were crushing on in your sociology class that told you you reminded him of his mother?”

“What about that shitty mark you got on your research paper?”

“I formatted it right! The professor just hated me cause my ass looked better than hers.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest, remembering those nights. They always held a special place in your heart. You loved them because it was just you and Jimin; two voices and thoughts that just understood each other without having the need to explain themselves too much. And there was no fear of expression or regrets. It was just emotion and encouragement. Jimin was a wonderful listener and an even better supporter.

The sudden rush of affection you felt for your best friend almost made you tell him about the one night stand then and there, but you held back. It would be better to do it in person, because that’s what made it so special. And a little alcohol always loosened the tongue too.

“Let’s.” you agreed, “That’s just what we need - a good rant and a good cry.”

“That’s just what you need, honey.”

You grinned so big the muscles in your cheeks were straining.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m the best. You’re getting a bill for all the bullshit you make me put up with.”

That made you laugh into the receiver.

The night of the party came quicker than you thought. Unfortunately, not much has changed since you discussed your plans with Jimin. You were still planning on getting completely smashed and telling him everything that has been plaguing you for the past few weeks and you still had a situation to solve with Jin.

Except, Jin was still nowhere to be found. You texted him throughout the week and even called him a couple times, but it all went to voicemail. You couldn’t ask Jimin about him because that would raise suspicion. You wanted to make up with Jin on your own without having to explain everything to Jimin beforehand. Because of that, it really bothered you that Jin was making it difficult for you to communicate with him.

Your eyes trailed around the room, taking in the nameless bodies in the differently coloured hues. You knew no one, and you weren’t sure if that was a bad or a good thing. On one hand, it was good that you didn’t know anyone because all you wanted to do was slip away and find Jimin because you were itching to do what you had talked about on the phone. On the other, a part of you wanted to blend into the sea of people because, who knew, maybe, just maybe you would be able to run into him again.

The man that you had been unable to remove from your head for weeks. The man that had made a lasting impression. The man with the roughest of hands that had the softest of touches. The man with the charming gummy smile.

You knew it was probably a bad idea - he was a stranger, a one night stand for crying out loud. But a part of you had grown too attached to the memory of that night. And that made you unable to clear your mind of the way he made you feel. It wasn’t just the physical stuff anymore. He had comforted you when you were at your lowest. You couldn’t not have let that not have an effect you.

Just one more night and you would let it go. You had to have a taste of him again.

“I need to do this just once more, then I can start anew.” you said to yourself.

Like ripping off a band-aid.

And just like that, your decision was made.

With those words stuck on repeat in your mind, you stepped into the crowd. Your heard turned from one side to another in your little pursuit of the mint haired stranger. You weren’t completely certain you would run into him, but a naive part of you was foolish enough to try. Your mind knew that it was stupid and utterly desperate, but the desire to see him again outweighed the embarrassment that crawled through you as you searched.

His hair was the easiest indicator that it was him --- you had not met anyone else after him that had the exact same colour or haircut. That’s why you were sure the moment you saw it that it was him, even if it startled you at first into doing a double take.

You felt your mouth suddenly go dry as you studied it. It definitely was him. He was here. You found him. After weeks of obsessing, you could finally sate the thirst you felt for wanting to be in his presence and finally let him go.

And also learn why Jin had been so against him. You figured if Jin wouldn’t tell you, you’d find out from the man himself.

“Hey, stranger.” you said, a smile spreading on your face as you saw the hair turn and those familiar deep brown eyes survey you once more. “Come here often?”

He shared your smile. “Hey, yourself.” his eyes had been just as mischievous and deep as that night. He remembered. He remembered you. “How’s it going, beautiful?”

“Good. Better now that I ran into you.” you weren’t sure where this boldness had come from, you were usually more reserved. Then again, the last time you two interacted you had been just as forward, taking him home without much of a second thought. Without even bothering to remember his name.

His smile grew as his eyebrows raised up his forehead. “Really, now? Why is that?” he seemed amused, genuinely curious.

Now or never.

“Because I wanted to see you.”

He was standing closer to you now. You could feel his body heat against yours and realized how much you missed it. His smell had been the same as that night too, the cologne that was hard to place but immediately brought back the memories of sweat and heavy breaths. Your pillow had that same scent for a day after, too. It was a smell that was hard to forget.

“Really? Tell me more, beautiful.”

You leaned closer, your lips close to his ear and you knew he felt your breath because he shivered as you said, “Because I want to take you home again.”

Now it was your turn to feel his breath against your earlobe.

“Is that so, beautiful? And do what?”

Goosebumps formed on your skin even though you weren’t cold and strong shiver ran down your spine -- you loved every moment of it.

“And do something we both know is too obscene to talk about here.”

“Oh, I’m sure no one will hear you.”

Your hand had a mind of its own when it decided to slide up his torso, feeling the fabric of his shirt and the familiar outline of his body. He pressed closer to you, making your thighs and knees touch.

“A daring one, aren’t you, beautiful?” you heard his amusement in your ear.

“Completely different to last time, huh?”

“No, about the same. I liked that about you last time, and I like that about you now.”

Heat rose in your cheeks and you were thankful he couldn’t see your face and that it was dark in the room. You felt his nose press into your hair and didn’t want him to ever pull away.

“Besides, you’re more comfortable with me now.”

You weren’t about to disagree, after all, he was right. It’s much easier second time around, now that you had an idea of what he was like in bed -- how kind and gentle he was at making you come apart and piecing you back together. Knowing that made you daring in ways you hadn’t ever been before.

He was so close to you now, you could get a whiff of the faint smell of the detergent he used to wash his clothes. It mixed with his cologne so pleasantly you wanted to drown in it. It all was so familiar, his smell, his smile, his words. Even though originally your memory was foggy on the details, one thing was certain -- it was all coming back to you now, bit by bit. His strong presence, his alluring persona. A bit of a bite before the soft kiss. Everything that you committed to memory about this man.

And you realized, with a tightness in your chest that you needed him. Fuck, you really needed him. And you were so fucking desperate for doing so.

“Are you more comfortable with me?” you questioned, taking your time to enjoy the fabric of his shirt and the warm skin of his neck under your finger tips.

You felt his hand slide up the side of your arm and stop to cup your cheek as he leaned back to stare at you.

“I may be a little crazy for saying so, since we’ve only met once before, but yes.” he said and the words sounded so honest coming from him it made your heart squeeze.

“Want to get even more comfortable somewhere private?” you realized how needy you must have sounded to him, but you were far too gone to care. You needed him in your system, just seeing him again told you that.

His eyes, dark as they already were, somehow managed to become just a tad bit darker. “With pleasure, beautiful.”

And with that you felt the warmth of his hand enclasp yours and you were pulled out of the room, far from the crowd, the music and people’s eyes.

“By the way,” you started, looking at the back of his head as you trailed behind him. He looked back at you as he kept walking, close enough for your arms to be touching.

“What’s your name?”

A small smile flashed on his features as if there was an inside joke you both were in on. “Yoongi.”

Yoongi.

Now that was one secret uncovered. You felt yourself smile back at him, somehow feeling closer to him.

Maybe, just maybe it could be more.

Then, for a split second, your eyes caught Jimin in the crowd, looking around in a worried manner. Guilt pierced through your stomach.

“I’m sorry, Jimin.” you mumbled turning away to follow Yoongi out of the house.

You needed Yoongi.

And, you were getting your answers one way or another. No matter the cost.

When you got to your place, Yoongi did not waste any time pinning you against the wall and capturing your lips with his own. There was a quick ‘Careful, dear’ and a steady hold on your arm as you took off your shoes before you felt him close the distance between you and it nearly knocked the breath out of you. You whimpered against his tight grip, marveling at the hotness of his mouth and softness of his lips. You realized how much you remembered the feel of them, and how much you had missed them.

As you kept kissing him you felt yourself grow lightheaded. There was no room to breathe, and while that should have concerned you, the thrill that it sent with a shiver down your spine left you chasing the feeling. There was no turning back now, he was right there with you and, just for tonight at least, he was all yours. As yours as he could ever be.

“Bed?” you breathed out as he pulled away to trail wet kisses down your jawline, each damp mark sending electricity through your skin. You weren’t in the most eloquent state, your mind turning into mush thanks to his tactile abilities, but you were trying to speak in a way that communicated your thoughts.

“Please.”

You felt him hum against your neck in agreement and it felt so sensitive against your skin that warmth spread on your cheeks. God, you were already so weak in your knees. This was dangerous. Yoongi was dangerous.

As if in a trance, you lead him closer to your bed, stumbling over some things that were left by you on the floor carelessly. You really should have cleaned your apartment before you brought him home. Who knows what Yoongi thought of you now that he had bumped into the mess in the room. That thought momentarily scolded you, but Yoongi’s lips on yours made all worry vanish as quickly as it appeared.

You felt your calves press against the bed and your body caught against the solid build that was Yoongi. He was everywhere, all around you, his whole presence filled every little corner of your tiny living quarters. And with your arms around his neck and him tentatively working his lips against yours it suddenly felt as if he never left. All of the memories of that night were rushing into your head, like distant photographs.

He wasn’t a typical one night stand.

Yoongi’s hand trailed down your arm and grabbed a hold of your hip gently, then you were pushed into a sitting position on the bed, making it creak and sheets dip and crease from where you sat.

Once he pulled away from devouring your lips you heard him whisper something that sounded so faint and quiet, but you could have sworn sounded like your name.

A lump caught in your throat. “Huh?”

Yoongi said it--your name--again, before pressing his lips against the underside of your jaw and arms enveloping around you, creating a warm barrier that felt to innocent in comparison to the things that were sure to follow.

Something soft sprouted in your heart and you pulled him closer, bringing him to press his knees on the sides of your thighs and make him sit comfortably in your lap.

“You remember my name?”

He smirked, his face so close to yours that your noses were touching. “You’re a hard woman to forget.”

Oh, fuck. You tried not to think too much into those words, but your curious tongue spoke before you could catch it.

“Really? How come?”

Yoongi let out a dry laugh, his grin looking something akin to a Cheshire cat’s. “It’s not every day I meet a woman that cries on during a one night stand.”

Your cheeks were definitely on fire, the amount of shame you felt was palpable.

“Oh, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” his smile was gentler now, with less of a bite. “I enjoyed making you feel good, and comforting you after.”

You closed your eyes and tried to even your breathing. You really weren’t doing good with the whole one-more-night-and-then-I’ll-forget-about-him thing. No, definitely not. Instead, you were slipping more and more into Yoongi’s whole being, drowning in his touch, words and laugh and you were not sure you were going to make it out alive.

After a moment of silence, not awkward at all, just still and existent, Yoongi unwrapped his arms from you and moved to plop beside you, cocking his head to the side to look over you with a curious glance behind his eyes. “You have questions.”

“H-How did you know that?”

“I’m good at reading people.”

You avoided his gaze then. “Well, that must be useful.”

“Sometimes.”A pause. “What do you want to know?”

At that invitation, all the questions began fighting with each other in your head, all eager to be voiced and answered. But you settled on the most troubling ones.

“Do you know Kim Seokjin, by any chance?” You looked to him to see his reaction once hearing the name.

Something flashed behind Yoongi’s eyes, before a stoic mask covered his emotions once more. “I’ve heard of him. But I don’t know him personally.”

You weren’t really satisfied with that answer, as something in your gut was telling you that there was definitely something he wasn’t telling you.

“Really? It seems that he knows you.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow at that. “Has he said anything?”

“Just that I should stay away from you.”

You heard him bark out laughter at that, looking like it was the best joke he’s heard in a while. “Interesting. Well, he’s not wrong.”

Your heart rate picked up at that. “Why?”

Yoongi smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Because I’m not a good person, beautiful.”

“What do you mean?”

“Perhaps you should ask him that yourself.” Yoongi said, looking way too relaxed in comparison to how wound up you were feeling.

What the hell was going on? All this was doing was creating more complicated questions for you.

“I would, but he won’t talk to me.” you frowned. “Can’t you tell me anything?”

Yoongi sighed at that, looking somber. “It’s not my story to tell, sweets. If you want to know it, you have to hear it from him.”

“But there’s always more than one side to a story.” you argued.

“That’s true.” Yoongi agreed, before fixing his gaze on you--a gaze which you returned--and contemplating something for a moment. “Tell you what, if you get him to spill our history to you, and then don’t hate me after - come find me and I’ll tell you my half.”

You mulled over his words, considering your options. So they did know each other. Something pretty bad must have happened for them to not be on speaking terms, and for Jin to avoid talking about him like that.

You were aching to know what it was.

Then, you felt Yoongi’s hand cover yours and blinked as his face itched closer to yours.

“You know, when you offered to get more comfortable with each other, this wasn’t what I had in mind.” Yoongi commented lightly, tone full of humour, making you break into a smile, despite the bits of information you got just now. There was something so disarming about Yoongi, that it was almost scary.

“Not what I had in mind either.” you admitted, mind still caught up in your conversation.

Yoongi’s face was so close to you now, his breath hot against your swollen lips. “What did you have in mind?”

“Something similar to what you did, I presume.”

He smiled, eyes twinkling. “What are we going to do?”

Your head was swimming, and in your recklessness, you leaned in closer until you felt your lips touch. “Let’s continue.”

He hummed appreciatively, curling his hand into your hair and pulling you closer.

You knew it made no sense, you knew this was a bad idea. You knew, you knew, you knew. Something deep inside you knew.

But when Yoongi looked at you like that you felt weak.

And you knew you were a weak, weak woman for Yoongi.

The next morning you were woken up by someone loudly, and, to be honest, quite rudely assaulting your doorbell.

You looked over to the side of your bed to find it empty - just like last time, and something heavy sank in your stomach. Yoongi was gone just as quickly as he appeared. Almost as if he were some sort of ghost - an enigma. It made it seem as if last night didn’t happen, as if it was all a dream.

But the marks on your thighs, and neck, though you couldn’t really see them but with just one simple touch could tell were there, told you otherwise.

You scrambled to get untangled from your sheets as your doorbell continued to shrilling in your ears. Whoever it was really needed to get your attention.

After pulling on a loose shirt you found lying around your floor, you finally got close enough to the door to yell who it was through it as you looked through the peephole.

“It’s Jimin, you fuck. Open up!”

Suddenly your stomach felt even heavier than when you noticed that the spot next to you in bed was empty.

Jimin. You had left him alone last night after both of you had agreed to spend the night getting drunk together. Shit. You really were a horrible friend.

You opened the door to find his face staring at you in disbelief and anger.

“Jimin, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” he said, sounding calm--too calm--despite the silent rage behind his eyes, as he raised his hand to stop you from talking. “I already know what happened and I don’t need to hear your excuses.”

You clamped your mouth shut, guilt choking you from where it pooled in your chest.

“What I want to know is, why the fuck did it have to be Yoongi?” Jimin asked, looking more offended over that then the fact that you ditched him.

“You know him too?” you asked, exasperated.

Jimin scoffed at that. “Uh, yeah. Everyone knows him. He’s the one that caused all that havoc two years ago.”

Something clicked in your brain just then and your mouth went dry. “Havoc? You mean he was the one that-”

“Yeah, he’s the one that set fire to Jin’s parents house.”

It was all so simple.

How could you have forgotten? It’s not like you didn’t know about the incident. It had been before you knew Jin personally, so all the information you had on it was from what you read about in the newspapers and saw journalists talk about on the news.

It had been a huge tragedy. Not only because the whole building burned down, but because Jin’s sister was still inside and was engulfed by the flames. By the time the firemen were able to put out the fire, all they found were the charcoal remains. The event had people terrified for months.

Your hands shook as they cradled the coffee cup for some kind of support. You couldn’t bring your eyes to look up.

Jimin sat next to you, shielding you from leaving the booth and Jin sat across from you, looking like he really didn’t want to be there.

“Well, this is certainly a predicament.” Jin said finally with a sigh as he stared at you from across the table.

You nodded, replaying your last conversation with him, letting the shame wash over you at how you treated him.

Jimin nudged you out of your thoughts before motioning to Jin with his eyes and you cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry, Jin. For the things I said last time. You didn’t deserve them.”

Jin nodded, eyes looking hollow, but didn’t say anything in return.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and licked your chapped lips. Where do you start? You supposed from simple questions.

“Can I ask about it?” you asked tentatively.

You looked at Jin’s hands playing with the pack of sugar as heard him sigh deeply. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you know it was Yoongi?”

“He was dating my sister at the time, and they were supposed to spend the weekend together when my parents were away on business and I was studying abroad.”Jin answered solemnly.

“What happened?”

“I wish I knew. All we have is his side of the story, because it was only him and Sooyoon that were there.”

You clenched your jaw absentmindedly and thought for a moment. “Did he go to jail?”

“Wasn’t enough evidence to convict him, since everything was burned in the fire.” Jin said bitterly before adding, “Besides, his father has connections to the criminal world, so it wouldn’t have mattered. My parents took him to court but he ended up walking free.”

You felt a cold hand grasp your heart and as you tried to hold back the burning in your eyes. “Why did he do it?”

“He said it was an accident, that he wanted to be romantic and lit up a bunch of candles…” Jin said, voice trailing off, before it came back full of resent. “But the firemen found traces of gasoline on the furniture and ashen floor.”

“I can’t believe it… Why did he-” you started choking on your words, the burning growing stronger in your eyes.

Jin looked at you, eyes softer now, more vulnerable. “My family is rich, my guess is that he wanted to gain access to our home so he could steal valuable antiques to sell on the black market through his father.”

“Then your sister caught him in the act?”

Jin did a sharp intake of breath, looking at the small pack of sugar between his fingers, the corners of the packet bent from his nerves. “Perhaps. Like I said, there’s a lot of unanswered questions in this. Things I wish to know myself.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you set your coffee, now too cold to drink, aside and grasped Jin’s hands in your own. “I will find out.”

Jin’s eyes jumped up at that, staring at you incredulously. “What?”

“I’ll find out what happened.” you repeated, “I’ll ask Yoongi about it.”

Both Jin and Jimin made sounds of disapproval. “Are you serious?”

“Didn’t you just hear what Jin just told you?” Jimin asked, but you held firm.

“Yeah, I did. And I know that there’s more to this story than what we know. And I’m going to find out the missing pieces from Yoongi.”

“But you just found out that Yoongi has connections to the criminal world, doesn’t that scare you?” Jimin pressed.

You shrugged.

“You’re crazy.” Jimin mumbled into his facepalm.

“You’re really not scared?” Jin asked you, his hands still in yours.

You shook your head.

Jin stared at you, in both shock and amazement. “You are crazy.” you felt him give your hands a squeeze.

You stared back at him and hoped your gaze communicated just how determined you were.

“Maybe, but I also know how much this means to you.”

“You’re already steering closer to trouble just from taking home with you, twice.” Jin reminded.

“That was my decision. That was me being greedy. This is me fixing it.”

Jimin groaned beside you and said, “Jin, please tell her she’s way in over her head.”

“You’re way in over your head.” Jin said, but there was a smile on his face, a smile that you returned.

Jimin looked between the two of you and threw his hands up in the air. “I give up! If you want to rush head first into mobsters and gangsters and die early, be my guest.” he sighed dramatically before getting up from his seat, “I’m done, you hear me? Done!”

“Where are you going?” Jin asked as the blonde made his way to the back of the diner.

“Bathroom! You guys better come to your senses by the time I’m back!”

Both you and Jin snickered. All three of you knew fully well that wasn’t going to happen.

137 notes · View notes

yourknightingale · 7 years ago

Text

Late Night Talk (Sleep Deprivation)

Summary: Set after PP1 and before PP2 - One random night, Beca and Chloe found themselves chatting about flirting, feelings, and friendship. This might be how it began for them.

"Beale, you know your eyes are blue."

Chloe looked up from the book she was trying to read as she conveniently laid herself atop Fat Amy's bed. She furrowed her brows towards the brunette's direction. "Is that- what is- thanks, Becs! I guess?"

When the quiet didn't break, she continued, "Your eyes are blue, too, Beca. It's not a competition." She followed this up with one of those infamous Chloe winks.

The small girl sighed and closed her laptop. She was supposed to be working on a new mix but eventually, she gave in. She took off her headphones and put them aside. The four-beat loop she was listening to for almost an hour now still lingered. She could still hear it. Her hands ruffled her hair as she tried to brush the track away.

It was already 1:30 in the morning but neither one of them could really sleep.

Beca was somehow grateful that her roommate was out with not-Bumper (totally Bumper) on this night where she just needed a break from everything else. She had been captain for two years, a junior in college, and a Bella housemate for 26 months. The other girls saw her as this very reserved person who couldn't be broken but they all witnessed the change when she became fast friends with the one and only Chloe Beale. She herself noticed the change and honestly, she didn't seem to mind.

"You know, that's not what I meant. I just feel like I should let you know my favourite colour is blue. And your eyes are blue. So, my point is, I like them." The DJ wasn't quite aware of how a blush started to show in her cheeks. She'd like to blame it on a sleep-deprived state she was currently in and the hour where most people say things they usually don't.

"Aww, Beca! Your inner sweetness is showing," the redhead settled on a sitting position and smiled at the younger girl, "and just so you know, I also like blue. But definitely, strictly, just Beca-Mitchell's-eyes blue."

Innocent flirting was the word they used. Chloe Beale was known for being touchy-feely and very forward (especially towards Beca). She would say whatever that comes to her mind (especially towards Beca). She herself couldn't tell if she had crossed the line with her relationship with Beca. Or if there was even a line to begin with. She was very fond of the little alt girl ever since the fair and everybody knew that. Beca knew that. That made it easy for this to become a flirting game of two.

"Alright, Chlo. Tone it down." She faced the other woman and mirrored her sitting position. "I'm just being sincere and trying to compliment you but if this is what I get, expect no sugar from me, Red. You've been warned."

Chloe just grinned but as soon as she noticed Beca with her head down, looking at her fingers, she had to ask, "Okay. What's going on?"

"Uhm, well – it's uh, I realized how you grew on me, I guess. I'm having one of those nights where I do a reality-check self-examination kind of thing and I am not one to talk about feelings and stuff but you're here right now and that helps, kinda, so I'm being deep maybe but I can't help it." Beca drew a long breath and exhaled after releasing those strings of words. She arranged her pillows and propped herself up with her back on the wall, changing her position. "I told my Dad I wanted to leave Barden as soon as I can and before I knew it, I'm a junior and currently handling a group of girls I never thought I'd ever even be friends with. I think – and I don't want to sound like a terrible friend here – I'm a little glad you stayed behind. I never would have lasted this long if it weren't for you, Chlo." She dared to see what Chloe was up to and was rewarded with two blue orbs intently staring at her with a little hint of something playing on her lips. Not that she was looking at her mouth or anything. "Trust me, Beale. You have this effect on me."

Chloe took this as a chance to also open up to her best friend. If there was a word the Bellas would use to describe her, it would be confident. Somehow though, she would hold back around Beca. Now that Beca learned how to open up to her, she also managed to freely let go and be true to herself and respond to the DJ.

"I saw you first at the activities fair. I just had that sudden feeling of wanting to get to know you, Becs. I was very fond of you –"

"- so I've heard."

"Shut up, Mitchell! It's my turn to be sappy."

Beca raised both her arms in the air, indicating for the other girl to carry on.

"Seriously though, I meant it when I told you that I think we're gonna be fast friends. True, I failed my Russian Lit twice now but I don't regret it one bit. Maybe a little. But being a Bella makes it worth it. Being here with you, too, if I'm being completely honest. I'm rubbing on you so well, look at you talking about how much I mean to you."

Beca rolled her eyes but found herself nodding in agreement to Chloe's last statement. "Okay, Chloe. I haven't even started yet on how much you mean to me so keep it in your pants, maybe."

"Mitchell, no one's talking about pants here! But I won't say no to you, just so you know." Chloe let out a small giggle and winked which made the brunette throw a little pillow in her direction. "Ow! I didn't think you'd be an aggressive partner," she said, feigning hurt as she rubbed the area in her thigh where the pillow landed.

Beca chuckled to herself and thought, "I can play this game, too." She sat up and faced the older girl.

"I have to learn how to be aggressive in case I get ambushed again in my shower."

"So you're expecting another shower moment, huh? That's good to know." Chloe wriggled her eyebrows which didn't escape Beca's attention.

"Man, Chloe! How are you so good at this?" She let out a pretend frustrated grunt. "Just when I thought I was winning."

They were both silent for a few minutes with the occasional glances they shared with each other. Chloe was back to lying down and reading her book while Beca was just quietly humming to herself, staring at the ceiling. The dead air between them was comfortable, much like how they grew to be with one another's presence.

"Do you think it's weird? Us, I mean. Whatever this is." The brunette's voice was softer than usual as if she didn't mean to say that out loud.

Unfortunately, Chloe heard every word and replied, "You've got to be more specific than that, Beca. As far as I'm concerned, we're both weird in our own way. You're broody most of the time and I'm just here hugging everybody which confuses me because hugging isn't a quirky quality. I've been told I cling a lot though."

"No way," Beca gasped sarcastically. "I wouldn't have known."

Chloe ignored that reply with a shy smile and pressed on, "What is this about?"

The brunette took her time and carefully threaded her words. "Your eyes are blue," she could literally hear Chloe's eye-rolling, "and the reason I'm saying this is because I don't usually look people in the eye. I can't even hold a stare for five seconds! Yet, when we sang Titanium together, remember that? I found myself drowning in your eyes. Was that cheesy? Ew! I mean, I was drawn to you somehow and what could've been an awkward situation suddenly wasn't that awkward at all. You know, until pizza guy showed up."

"Tom."

"Irrelevant." Beca sat up crossed-legged in the middle of her bed. "I like you, Chloe. I don't mean that in a weird way. I just, uhm, you saw me at my worst moments before ICCAs – you know, leaving you guys – during parties when I have too much to drink, after a call with my dad which usually ends up with me being in a bad mood, and other examples which I don't have the time to bring up now. You stick to me though. Knowing that you want to get to know me, as you said so earlier, makes me, I don't know, happy. Happy, yes, is the word I'm looking for. So, thanks."

"Alright, I've been trying to read the same page over and over again. I give up. You have my full attention now." Chloe found a comfortable space between two huge pillows and turned to the other girl. "Beca, I'm sure you know I like you a lot but nothing is weird between us, okay? Remember that one Treble party we went to last year? You drank a little more than you should and practically released your inner beast."

"Oh, no! The one where I said I could walk a tightrope across their pool? In my defence, I made it halfway through before the rope started swaying and I fell."

"Exactly that. I have to leave that party early to help you get home."

"Sorry?"

"No, not really. You were actually funny."

"I'm glad I amuse you, Beale."

"You were also bold at that time. I don't know if you remember but I was helping you get out of your wet clothes and you stopped me. I told you it's nothing I haven't seen before but you just kinda stared back at me."

"Yes, now the memories are flooding back. Thank you so much."

"Do you remember what happened next?"

"I uh," Beca was fumbling with her words, unsure on how to phrase it, "I held your face with both my hands and uhm, I kissed you, uh, on your cheek and said, well I said, maybe next time?"

"That kiss was dangerously close to my mouth. I thought you were gonna go for it."

"Dude, I was drunk! That would have been awful for our first kiss."

"I wouldn't care."

"Dude, just no. Besides, at that time you were with pizza guy. I don't do cheating. My parents divorced because my dad met another woman. I'm so against cheating, just so you know."

"Tom and I were just a thing for like a semester. We weren't together anymore before our ICCA performance."

Beca scratched her temple and flopped back down on her bed. "Oh! I didn't know that."

"Oh is right. Well, maybe you were just thinking of Jesse? Such a loyal girlfriend you are." Chloe tried to be as nonchalant about it as possible but deep inside, she felt that bee sting.

"Jesse? Jesse and I –", she trailed off. She and Jesse shared that kiss after the Bellas performance and she thought they would work out for a while. They tried for 6 months but both of them eventually just accepted the fact that they could only be best friends and not lovers. They have an understanding but sometimes, Beca would forget and still kiss Jesse platonically on the mouth. She got that under control now but she didn't really tell anyone about her status quo with Jesse. She was a free agent but a busy one, with her mixes and her girls. That treble party helped her loosen up a bit.

It would be a great idea to not just tell anyone, including Chloe, that she wasn't seeing anyone at the moment. Right?

Beca was brought out of her reverie when she heard Chloe snap her fingers in front of her. "Whatever. It's not Jesse. Wait, wait a minute. Let me backtrack. You said you wouldn't care."

"Uh-huh." Chloe jumped up and placed herself next to Beca, attacking her gently on the double bed. She leant in and whispered in the DJ's ear, "It's just a kiss, Beca. I wouldn't hold that against you. What if we graduate and be on our separate ways and you realize you regret not having a taste of this?" The redhead puckered her lips and made a smacking sound with her lips. "That's a lot of years bottling up your emotions. We could just start now."

Beca rolled over and faced Chloe. She squinted her eyes towards the older girl and knitted her brows. "You're so weird."

"Thanks." Chloe pushed herself closer to the smaller girl and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight, Beca."

The brunette buried her face under Chloe's chin and smiled. She was really content with how this night turned out to be. It was just a talk between the two of them but a lot has been said. She didn't think she could say those words again when she wakes up but being sleep-deprived was better than being drunk. Albeit, they seemed to have similar symptoms such as saying things you don't usually say and doing things you usually don't do.

Before she drifted off, she heard Chloe say, "I'm glad we had this conversation."

"Me, too."

#bechloe #beca mitchell #beca effin mitchell #chloe beale #Pitch Perfect #pitch perfect 2 #pitch perfect 3 #fanfic #fanfiction

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justjen523 · 7 years ago

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Hairgasm Part 1

Follow up to “Hairplay” as requested

Rating M

“Z-Zyglavis...” He was hovering over me staring down like he could see right through me. His powerful aura was undeniable and made it hard to look away under his intense gaze. ‘God he’s so beautiful.’ I could barely hold it together, I didn’t want him to see me feeling this vulnerable.

“What’s the matter? Surprised to find yourself in this predicament?” He was smiling so wickedly it sent a shiver through me.

“Is it safe to say that you assumed me to be truly innocent about such things?”

“Errr......” ‘Yes, truth be told that’s EXACTLY what I believed.’

“Come now, you must know better than that. While it is true that I am a god and do not usually require such things I am however, in fact, still a man.” He slowly lowers his body easing onto mine before capturing my wrists and holding them firmly above my head. He brings his face so dangerously close to mine my heart starts pounding practically out of my chest.

“Are you...afraid?” His lips ghost across mine so slowly it’s almost painful how nervous and excited I feel simply at his touch. Unable to verbally answer him I nod my head hesitantly. His eyes sparkle in amusement.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I simply want to.....play.” He pulls back just enough for our eyes to meet and at this proximity I can actually see the stars in his them. ‘Woah.’ This god is different from the other six at the mansion. There’s an intensity that rivals Leon’s yet is uniquely different and equally as nerve wracking.

“W-What do you mean by ‘play’?” I ask nervously. His smile simply widens as he continues to stare into my eyes hypnotizing me with his godly beauty. Rather than reply he pulls one of my wrists to his lips before placing a sensual kiss on my skin while never once looking away. He does the same to each fingertip sending heat coursing through my body at the foreign yet wonderful sensation.

“I’m going to touch you any way and where I please until I am satisfied. Unfortunately for you, you have no choice or say in the matter as this is your punishment for trying to seduce a god.” His words sound aggressive but his expression leads me to believe he means what he said when he promised not to hurt me. I feel conflicted. Should I fight back? Or do I actually really want this? I never thought of him this way before, how could I? I barely know him to be honest. Isn’t this wrong?

“Zyglavis, I...”

“Spread your legs.”

“?! I beg your pardon?!”

“I said, spread....your.....legs.” Using his knee he does the work for me and I at once realize how serious he is about “playing” with me.

“Zyglavis, I...stop.” I say hesitantly sounding unsure and causing him to immediately stop and stare at me incredulously.

“You, a lowly human dare defy me, a god?” Unable to answer to his intensity I blink wordlessly a moment before I find myself once again face to dangerously close face with the icy god of Libra.

“I was going to go easy on you but now, I think perhaps not. It seems you are unaware of your place little human.” Before I could think of a retort he sunk his teeth into the skin near my clavicle eliciting a painful gasp from me. A little more forcefully this time I once again tell him ‘No’ before using the heel of my foot to push him away. For a moment his eyes go wide in sheer surprise and we simply stare at each other.

The way he is observing me tells me he is searching for what I am actually feeling vs what I am saying. I couldn’t give him a solid answer even if I wanted to, I’m at war with my emotions. I want him, I do. My body is begging for his touch but a part of me is afraid. I’ve never done something like this before. Love isn’t a factor in this interaction, it’s purely sexual and I have no idea what to expect when it comes to being physical with a god. Especially one such as Zyglavis. Plus, I seriously have NO idea what his intentions actually are.

This unexpected side of Zyglavis is something I’m quite confident the other gods have never seen. He comes across so militant and strict and while that’s obviously still present even now there’s a sensuality about him I feel drawn to. I cannot lie to myself, I am too curious to see more of this and just what this god is capable of. ‘Alright Zyglavis, I’ll play along. Show me what you have!’

I furrow my brows though a tiny smirk threatens the corner of my mouth as I stare at him with a determined expression.

“Pfft. I see. My this game just became far more exciting wouldn’t you agree?” As he licks his lips I back away across the bed which only serves to entice him more. He crawls toward me on all fours like an animal who’s cornered it’s prey, his long silken strands of hair swaying flawlessly around his face. He may have been feigning innocence earlier but I wonder if that also holds true about those shimmering threads.

Inhumanly quick he has me pinned beneath him once more before I can even see it happen. With his hair hanging so loosely now a section of it pools by my cheek tickling the skin. Unable to use my hands I try and push it out of the way with my cheek. As the silky strands press tautly against my skin I swear I see his eyelashes flutter a tiny bit. Testing my theory I turn and bury my face in the Prussian locks nuzzling it sensually and at once confirm my suspicion.

“Nmmm.” Before he can say another word I take a section into my mouth and let my tongue gently run across the entire area causing him to inhale sharply. Increasing the force of his hands on my wrists I try not to smile knowing what this knowledge is doing to him. He no longer has the upper hand, god or not and he knows it.

Shaking his hair free from my grasp without letting go of my wrists his body pulls up away from mine but he remains above me.

“You. It seems I haven’t made myself clear. Perhaps you have failed to understand your position.”

“Oh no not at all. I understand perfectly Zyglavis. Perhaps it is you who have failed to really see the entire situation in the first place.” A smug smile spreads across my face as his expression of surprise deepens.

“And what would that be?” He asks his brows furrowing in frustration.

“It seems you failed to see how much I actually want for you to punish me.” A fierce blush covers his cheeks as he blinks at me wide-eyed like I just said something incomprehensible.

“Y-You want me to punish you?” There is no longer even a hint of anything that previously made this god terrifying to me. Right now he is utterly adorable and so vulnerable looking I can’t believe this is the same god from ten minutes ago.

“Yes Zyglavis. I love the way it feels when you touch me.” I confess only further reddening his already cherry colored cheeks. He says nothing in return for several moments but is clearly deep in thought.

“I was unaware you possessed such...boldness. I admit I am no longer sure how to proceed.” Unable to take anymore of the adorableness that was currently Zyglavis I decide to go for it. Leaning up I press a chaste kiss to his lips before lying back down and seeing how he reacts. For a moment he seems shocked and unable to respond but that doesn’t last long.

Without a word he suddenly crushes his mouth to mine kissing me deeply and passionately practically melting me into the bed. As he starts kissing along my jaw and neck he releases my wrists allowing me to wrap my arms around him and pull him closer.

“Mmmm Zyglavis.” I purr in a heady tone as he kisses and sucks the skin near my throat and causing a rush of desire between my legs.

“It is forbidden for our kind to lay with yours. However, I am finding it impossible to control my desires. I want you, all of you. Will you give yourself to me?” I nod slightly nervous at the realization of what’s about to happen.

“You’ve nothing to fear, I will love you so thoroughly you will think of nothing else.” His touch becomes inhumanly sensual as he caresses my skin instantly making my body obey his every command. He kisses along my jawline as his hands traverse the curves of my body before gently pulling his teeth along my ear. He’s barely begun and already I’m drowning in his ecstasy.

(Visual Inspiration)

#star crossed myth #scm #scm zyglavis #zyglavis #scm smut

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recovering-and-healing · 8 years ago

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LEARN TO LOVE YOURSELF FIRST

Love, respect and acceptance are very important in any healthy relationship…and I’m not only talking about your relationships with other people, I also mean your relationship with your very own, precious self.

Some tips:

1 - Make some extra effort every day

Make sure to do things that make you feel more confident, things that boost your self esteem. For example, making a homemade facial treatment, a beautiful makeup, dressing up, or doing something that makes you happy can help you look and feel a lot more confident. Remember, you dress up for yourself and not in order to impress someone… purely for your own happiness! This type of attitude will shift your perspective. By taking a good care of yourself – you show yourself love…

2 - Take a bath with rose petals wearing tiara

It’s a great way to relax and enjoy the moment. While taking a bath, think about all things you love about yourself. You will feel a lot more positive and happy about yourself!

3 - Spoil yourself once in a while

Make sure to regularly treat yourself with something pleasant, for example, buy the most delicious cake, lighten up some candles and take a moment to enjoy it, or go to shop and, finally, buy that beautiful outfit or luxurious lipstick that you’ve always wanted to get, but never thought you were worth it. You are worth it! Do things that bring pleasure, enjoyment and happiness into your life, spoil yourself once in a while!

4 - Start admiring your uniqueness

There is something about you that is unique only to you! Start admiring those things that make you “you”. Do you like wearing mismatching socks? Do you love eating ice cream together with meat balls? Or, probably, you just adore adding ketchup everywhere? Alll these little special things add up to your uniqueness! Embrace, admire and accept them, like this you will start loving yourself more…

5 - Learn to accept and love your appearance

If you want somebody to love and adore you, you need to start seeing (and admiring) your own beauty too! Don’t wait till someone tells you that you’re pretty. Learn to accept and love yourself totally, love yourself just as you are. All the features that you have are absolutely unique to you: your nose shape, your hair, your freckles, your beasts’ size…Learn to fall in love with yourself and you will see the whole world fall in love with you…

6 - Do what you love and follow your passion

It’s very important to find out what you love and start getting busy doing it. It doesn’t matter, if someone tells you that you can’t! Ignore those discouraging voices and start following your dream. Doing what you love will, definitely, add up to your sense of happiness, self worth and self love!

7 - Music and dancing

Listening to new types of music, dancing around and enjoying it with your whole being will help increase your level of happiness and make you love and enjoy yourself even more!

8 - Start wearing vibrant colors

The world already has enough of grey and dark colors to it! Wearing something bright, colorful and beautiful will add sparkle of joy into your life; it’s been proven scientifically that colors have psychological impact on our mood!

9 - What other people think about you is their own business

Stop worrying about other people’s opinions…what they think is, totally, up to them! What really matters is what do you think about yourself…

10 - Find some inspiration

Find inspiring stories and role models to follow. It will give you extra motivation to move toward the accomplishment of your goals and dreams, making you love yourself and believe in yourself more! Life is only what you make out of it, therefore, aim for the best, set yourself enormous goals, be bold, be daring; always remember, you are the captain of your ship!

11 - Self respect

Not only self love and self acceptance are important, so is also self respect. Make sure you always totally respect yourself and never accept anything less from anyone else! The sense of self worth, self love and self respect will help you also show more respect, kindness and love toward others.

12 - Spend time in nature

Whether it is walking on the beach, swimming in the ocean, or hiking in the mountains, interaction with nature seems to have a positive effect on humans. The sounds, smells, and sights of the great outdoors appear to have an amazing stress-reducing capacity. Research shows that spending time with nature can decrease feelings of depression, increase self-esteem, decrease tense feelings, help us to be more caring, less aggressive and violent, be less likely to procrastinate, and better able to work through problems.

Source: BBC

#self care #recovery #depression #anxiety #april autism month #abuse recovery #bipolar recovery #bpd recovery #eating disorder recovery #ocd recovery #ocdc recovery #ptsd recovery #trauma recovery #self respect #nature #music and dancing #love yourself #you are unique

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chimchimchoo · 7 years ago

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Sightless :: 10

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 1,487

Pair: Yoongi x Jimin

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)

“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.

Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.

But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”

A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.

JIMIN

“We found you a donor, Mr. Park. The documents are signed and prepared. We can schedule you for a surgery next month. All we need is the okay from you.”

“I’ll do it!” Jimin didn’t waste a minute to respond. “I’ll do it Doctor Oh!”

“That’s the spirit, I’ll call you back to set up an appointment to go over the details of it. Have a great day Mr. Park.”

“Thank you so much, thank you!” Jimin bowed multiple times with the phone in his hand, trying to show his gratitude although he knew the doctor wouldn’t see it through the device.

“What happened?” Yoongi suddenly asked as Jimin hung up the phone with the biggest smile.

“I got a donor, it’s official! They can set up the surgery next month!”

“Are you serious?” Yoongi gasped, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“I’m getting my sight back! It’s actually happening. Oh my god, I’m going to be able to-“ He was suddenly interrupted when he felt a pair of lips slam against his.

Shocked at first, Jimin froze for a few seconds before he closed his eyes, melting into his touch. Their bodies pressed together, Yoongi’s lips melded into his. They were so warm and a little chapped, but it was exactly as Jimin imagined. He had grazed his fingers across his lips far too many times when identifying Yoongi’s face, never had he thought he would get to kiss them, but he desperately wished so. Uncertain of what Yoongi would have said about it, Jimin just kept it buried deep in the back of his thoughts.

It was gentle at first, but then Jimin felt the desperation grow in Yoongi. Suddenly pushed against the wall behind him, Yoongi’s kiss grew deeper, as if he had been holding it in all this time. His hands moved from Jimin’s shoulders to his flushed cheeks as Jimin wrapped his arms around his torso.

The world melted away from them, all things seem to have come to a halt. Nothing mattered to two at the moment. Just the sensation of their skin touching and the intimacy that hung in the air between them was enough.

Before they got too carried away, Jimin tilted his head back against the wall, gasping. He heard heavy breaths fill the air as they were nose to nose. The butterflies tickled inside of his stomach, the muscles in his body went numb and his legs turned into jelly.

Jimin couldn’t see Yoongi, he couldn’t figure out what he was possibly thinking. Was he smiling? Frowning? Was this a terrible idea? Was it a good one?

Based on a light, satisfied laugh he heard just now, Jimin confirmed it. It was most definitely a good idea.

“Should we tell your friends that it’s official this time?” Yoongi asked, his thumb gently stroking Jimin’s cheek.

“We should, but that can be dealt with later. My mind is a bit distracted right now.” Jimin could bet a million bucks that Yoongi had a smirk on his face as he giggled, his eyes turning into those usual crescents whenever he was happy.

Jimin tilted his head upwards and met with Yoongi’s lips again, but this time, with his help, he finally aimed right. Yoongi slung an arm around Jimin’s waist as their lips locked, the longing of Yoongi’s touch that was pushed in the back of his mind was finding it’s way to the surface.

His senses were on fire, the heat of the kiss taking over his thoughts. He expected Yoongi to be the rough type, but to his surprise, he was actually so gentle, so careful as if Jimin could break under his touch.

“I don’t think you understand how long I’ve waited for that.” Jimin said quietly after their lips parted to catch their breath. He could sense Yoongi smiling again, Jimin’s fingers gently caressing his cheek.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

They stood in silence, small giggles filling the air every now and then as they took in the moment.

But within a few minutes, Yoongi’s hands grew cold and clammy as Jimin felt him let go and back away, cold air filling the space between them. Was he regretting it now? “Yoongi, what is it?” His heart dropped into his stomach, scared that he may have done something wrong.

“Uh, nothing.” He heard uncertainty in his voice. “We should get back to work, we made a deal. When the phone dies, break is over.”

Frowning, Jimin didn’t know how to respond to his sudden demeanor. Although it was technically Jimin who initiated the kiss in his first place, Yoongi was the one who took it another step further. It wasn't fair of him to grow distant all of the sudden.

“Yoongi, if this is about-”

“It’s not, don’t worry. I just have a lot on my mind. Come on, we need to finish this.” Jimin heard Yoongi pat a hand on the piano bench, gesturing to come back.

Biting his lip, the usual nervous habit, he returned to the piano, running his fingers along the smooth keys. As he played random notes, he heard Yoongi aggressively scribbling on paper, trying his best to figure out what he was possibly thinking.

For the rest of that day, unless had to do with the final and editing the composition, neither of them had spoken a word, leaving a heavy atmosphere in the room.

----------

“Now, you’ll need to go 24 hours without food or drinks, water is acceptable. You will also feel drowsy with some frequent headaches the next few days afterwards. That is completely normal. It’s going to be overwhelming at first, to be able to see everything.” The doctor instructed, piling papers in front of the two boys that sat at the desk.

The semester had come to an end, Yoongi and Jimin successfully turned in their projects and treated themselves to drinks that night, celebrating the finishing of the first half of their school year.

The incident from earlier wasn’t spoken of afterwards. The two moved on with their life like nothing had ever happened, but mentally, Jimin questioned his actions over and over. It was the only thing on his mind ever since then. Dare he say he grew even more attracted to him? Longing for more of his touch? To just do nothing but be next to him? Laugh at his lousy attempts at jokes? To gently touch his face and try, try his very best to paint a picture of what he looked like in his mind.

There was only a week left until his big surgery, Jimin dragged Yoongi along to his appointment to discuss the smaller details of it. Each day that passed by, Jimin grew more nervous, yet excited. He thought of all the things he was going to do once he was able to see. One of them was dancing, without a doubt.

“Keep these papers in a file, or somewhere safe when you get home. These are the official documents and signatures from everyone. You’ll need to hold onto these in case anything were to come up.”

“Thank you Doctor Oh. I cannot express my appreciation.”

“I’m glad you look forward to it on a bright note. Anyhow, your surgery will be on Saturday, December 20th. It’ll be early in the morning, but you’ll be able to get plenty of rest in your room during the day.”

Jimin’s smile faltered, but then grinned even wider with a confident nod. Concluding their meeting, Yoongi and Jimin stood, giving him a quick bow before leaving his office.

Clutching onto the small stack of papers tightly in one hand and the white cane in the other, he followed Yoongi through the hall of the hospital, mazing their way to the elevator.

When they got inside of the metallic cubicle, just the two of them, Jimin turned until he was sure he faced him. “Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“Will you go with me?” Jimin suddenly asked with hope. “I want you to be the first one I see when I wake up.”

“Jimin, I don’t know, I-”

“Please? Do it for me? Please. It’s on a Saturday, I don’t want to spend that day without you. I know it probably makes you nervous. But I’m serious, I’m probably going to tell you you’re the most perfect human being ever when I see you, because I know you are.”

Yoongi was silent for a moment, a strange tension hanging in the air. “I’ll come.” There was the strangest hesitation, a distant feeling in his voice that Jimin questioned, but he quickly brushed it off. Just the fact Yoongi was going to be there made Jimin more than happy.

“Thank you.” He smiled as the elevator doors opened to the hospital lounge bustling with nurses and patients.

With all that set into place, there was only t-minus seven days until the operation.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #yoongi x jimin #yoonmin #fluff #angst #bts imagine #yoongi fanfiction #allifanfic #jimin fanfiction #sightless #blind!jimin #jimin #yoongi

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richmegavideo · 6 years ago

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‘Barry’ Review: Season 2 Builds a Brilliant Black Comedy That Earns Its Darkness

In the oft-overlapping world of prestige TV, a common solution to the sophomore slump is to go darker. Some programs take this literally, like “Ozark” with its muddy visual template, while others lean into the more painful themes from Season 1, like “13 Reasons Why” and its redundant circling of teen suicide. After all, one of the best ways to hide a bad case of writers’ block — or otherwise mask the qualitative decline of a formerly strong show — is to make it hard to watch. Who would dare criticize something so bold, so important, so sad?

Well, “Barry” Season 2 is harder to watch. It’s darker, more intense, and seems to tick off many of the warning signs listed above. Yet just as its original premise is the kind of pitch that shouldn’t play — but does, and does oh so very well — so too is its second season a brilliant paradox. For every step co-creators Alec Berg and Bill Hader take deeper into Barry’s haunted past, the growing shadows only provide sharper edges for the HBO series’ cutting comedy. If “Barry” played it safe during parts of Season 1, it’s not anymore. The darkness and light play perfectly off each other, creating yet another fascinating and hilarious season, and one determined to be true to its own twisted identity.

Related:‘Barry’ First Trailer: TV’s Favorite Hitman Works on His Memoirs in Season 2

So far, “Barry” gives every indication it will slide further and further into the daunting corners of its lead character’s psyche, as the first three episodes force the hitman-turned-actor to confront long-repressed sides of himself. Barry (Hader), who may have earned the nickname “Baz” during the break (captions will have to confirm the mumbly dialogue) has made a few key changes to distance himself from his old life. He’s not accepting contract gigs anymore. Instead, he’s working for lululemon alongside his acting class friend, Sasha (Kirby Howell-Baptiste), hocking stretchy pants and branded hats while practicing his accent work.

Anthony Carrigan in “Barry”

Isabella Vosmikova/HBO

Speaking of, he’s doubled down on acting, throwing himself wholeheartedly into the class and preparing a show with his fellow thespians-in-training. Barry’s even taken on a bit of a leadership role in the studio. He’s far less timid and much more confidant, on stage and off. There’s only one problem: Gene (Henry Winkler) doesn’t feel like teaching anymore; not since his girlfriend Janice (Paula Newsome) went missing. The police aren’t exactly giving up, but the charismatic acting instructor sure seems to be, and his whole class is down in the dumps because of it.

Related:Hidden Among All the Familiar WGA TV Winners: Hope For Offbeat Shows

What’s a killer to do? Barry, having lived around death most of his adult life, is unfazed by Moss’ disappearance and Gene’s heartache, even though he’s ultimately responsible for both. Hader and Berg dodge the details of what happened after that Season 1 cliffhanger, when Barry and Janice exchanged gunfire and only the hitman returned to Gene’s cabin in the woods. But their fuzzy details aren’t for fear of engagement: Barry’s avoidance can only last so long — of Janice, of NoHo Hank (breakout Anthony Carrigan), of his past — and the initial Season 2 episodes find internal and external forces demanding the assassin to recognize his true feelings about his past. What is it about Barry that led him to turn to killing in the first place?

Darrell Britt-Gibson, Sarah Goldberg, D’Arcy Carden, and Henry Winkler in “Barry”

Isabella Vosmikova/HBO

On the one hand, he’s got his innocent-to-the-point-of-oblivious fellow actors. Their detachment from reality is captured in Barry’s new roommates casually ignoring their debts to Barry’s girlfriend, Sally (Sarah Goldberg), only playing the part of a partner instead of actually being one. She can’t see the difference, but Barry is starting to notice. Meanwhile, he’s got a slew of Chechen mobsters held off only by Hank’s word. They deal in extreme consequences, life or death, and don’t bother with the small stuff. If Barry pisses off his roommates, they might passive aggressively pout. If he pisses off Hank, he might get killed.

Stuck between these worlds — or, more specifically, wanting one while refusing to acknowledge he’s more at home in the other — Barry is a gripping character to study. He can easily recognize right and wrong, but as Gene drives him to “find his truth,” Barry edges toward accepting some very dark shit. The laughs come in fierce bursts of tension-popping one-liners and silly, unexpected transitions. “Barry” is deft at finding the right moments for jokes, and it’s amazing how many they’re able to pepper in through the well-rounded cast.

As far as black comedies go, the concept of finding big laughs in tough situations is nothing new: The most biting gags often grow from the gloomiest corners of the soul, but what Hader and Berg are doing with “Barry” isn’t focused on sharpening their fangs; they’re not setting up laughs through Barry’s descent, so much as they’re using them to coax us into analyzing one of television’s more challenging perspectives. Their interest lies in their lead, and so does the audience’s. Barry Berkman is on the verge of becoming the next Walter White, and “Barry” could very well go the “Breaking Bad” route if it wants to — that’s how dark the series is getting, and it’s not a front. It’s really, really good. Get ready.

Grade: A-

“Barry” Season 2 premieres Sunday, March 31 at 10 p.m. ET on HBO.

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janetgannon · 8 years ago

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R2AK Update: Pure & Wild and Big Broderna go 1, 2, but the race isn’t over

UPDATE, 9:45 p.m. 6/15/17:

After 750 miles it boiled down to two sets of brothers from opposite coasts.

Accomplished sailors with great boats win races. But R2AK is about so much more than the top finishers. As gales rake the Inside Passage with the remaining R2AKers strung up and down the coast, there are still a couple of weeks left in this event. Consider that most teams are currently hunkered down waiting for the front to pass. Except for Karl Kruger on his paddleboard. He’s been on the move. When it was blowing 25-35 knots and prudent mariners were being prudent, he was hitting nearly 7 knots in Johnstone Strait. On a paddleboard!

And the high school kids (and one dad). They are on the move as well, but in a boat that is as uncomfortable as it can be. The dad deserves a great father’s day this weekend. But he knows he’s already got it.

After the gale lifts, though, there is still plenty of cheering left for great teams. Who will be the first solo R2Aker this year? Will Karl really make Ketchikan on his paddleboard? Who will get the $10K boat buy back? How many teams will Sistership pass? Are there bold moves left for the high schoolers on North2Alaska? What about Rod Price and his single paddle? Will Kristen and Elena carrying ‘flat Dan’ retain their cheerfulness and get all the way to Ketchikan? Will West Coast Wild Ones in their old ODay 27 beat Ketch Me If You Can?

Everyone on the course finds their own race. Against others, against the elements, or against themselves. Find your racers. Cheer them on. And take the spirit of R2AK and make it your own.

Hit the refresh button on the tracker often. It’s all yet to unfold.

UPDATE, 2:30 p.m. 6/15/17:

The Three Sheets Northwest crew was absolutely glued to the tracker and Facebook updates as Team Pure & Wild/Freeburd and Team Big Broderna battled to the finish in Ketchikan just moments ago. A huge congratulations goes out to the Burd brothers on Pure & Wild for taking number 1 — what a race! Wow.

And our hats go off to Team Big Broderna for giving them an epic run. Enjoy those steak knives, boys. You earned ’em!

UPDATE, 8:15 a.m. 6/15/17:

Well, it looks like a two horse race at this point, folks. The question is, who will snag the 10 grand and who will take home the steak knives?

Team Pure & Wild/Freeburd and Team Big Broderna are neck and neck near the BC – Alaska border and will finish today.

It’s gonna be a tight finish in Ketchikan! Click the tracker image to follow live.

For reasons yet unknown, Team Bad Kitty is holed up and out of contention for the first two slots. And don’t expect a lot of movement from the rest of the fleet as gales will rake the Inside Passage throughout the day.

UPDATE, Noon 6/14/17:

The R2AK playing field grows. Click on the image to view the tracker live.

The course now strings along from Nanaimo to Bella Bella. As of noon on Wednesday, there’s much to report. On the northern front, the brothers Burd on Pure & Wild have cleared the Bella Bella checkpoint and were cruising at 13 knots. Big Broderna and Bad Kitty are coming up on the checkpoint at about 7 knots. Lots of twists and turns ahead, but the focus now may be more on the steak knives. Strong southerlies are in the forecast – hold on!!

On the southern front, Sistership has re-engaged the race after repairing their centerboard. They are in it and it’ll be interesting to see just how many boats they can pick off as they find their own race north.

By my count, I have 30 boats actively racing now.

Aside from the top 3, Ketch me if you can is in 4th, with Team 3 and ½ Aussies in 5th but docked at Port McNeil.

There’s quite a gap to 6th, with West Coast Wild Ones still sailing up Johnstone strait and Roger Mann in 7th doggedly following.

Having no business in 8th place, but holding it after last night’s incredibly daring move through Seymour Narrows is North2Alaska. Most of Johnstone Strait is in front of them, but early mornings, late nights, guile and skill have this aluminum sharpie moving much faster than it logically should. Despite my misgivings, the team reports the event itself was mostly uneventful. “Minimal tide rips and perfect wind.” They rushed through within 10 minutes and achieved 12 knots, the fastest the old Johnny (for Johnny Horton) has ever gone. The team went on to say it was a strategic move to get ahead of the other teams holed up in Campbell River. Well played, sirs.

About 15 nautical miles behind and closing are 6 boats in close proximity. In an order that is likely to change, in 9th to 14th place are PT Watercraft, Global, Away Team, Triceratops, Nomadica, and the SeaScape 27, Willpower.

All the above teams are past Seymour Narrows. Seymour is ebbing right now – flowing the right direction, but with strong currents. Slack is just after three this afternoon, then the window closes with peak flood at 6:31 followed by another slack at 10 p.m.

In 15th through 19th position are five teams all at the same marina in Campbell River. Sailpro Racing (after some questionable navigation approaching Cape Mudge last night), team Kelp (after what must have been an incredibly long day yesterday!), Rush Aweigh, Adventourists, and new arrival just a few minutes ago, Karl Kruger on his standup paddleboard (Heart of Gold). All these teams could avail themselves of the afternoon slack.

Speaking of Adventourists, they tried to sneak away (their own admission) in the dead of night to get the benefit of the strong ebb around midnight and just as they were about to leave a random fellow on the dock called their attention to a missing rudder pin. No steering could have been catastrophic in the strong current. It’s likely Gizmo has an angel looking over her.

Four teams are just below Campbell River. Matt Prius and Grace B are well within range of the afternoon slack and there’s an outside chance that Rod Price and Freya could make it as well.

The other 7 teams are out of the Gulf Islands but still south of Comox. It’s really great to see Sistership back in it and charging north. It’s not the situation they had hoped for, but they’re back in and it will be fun to cheer them on. Adversity can bring out the best in the best.

A final note, Kairos has turned around. The technical issues were apparently insurmountable.

UPDATE, 7 a.m. 6/14/17:

Local knowledge defined. Team North2Alaska transited Seymour Narrows at peak ebb at 0045 hours. Dudes!

They’re going to remember this night for the rest of their lives. Four guys fresh out of high school and a dad. But the dad is a commercial fisherman who has done the Inside Passage hundreds of times according to an article in the PT Leader.

Team North2Alaska at the start in Port Townsend.

At the front of the pack, the Burd Brothers (Team Pure & Wild) remain in first and are nearing the checkpoint at Bella Bella. Team Broderna jumped into second and Team Bad Kitty is clawing its way north in third. The rest of the pack can basically split into two sections, those who have transited Seymour Narrows and, well, those who have not.

Here’s a great weather brief from our friends at Sailish.com.

UPDATE, 9 p.m. 6/13/17:

Some news at the front of the pack. The Burd brothers, in the lead, left Malcolm Island to port and went up through George Passage. Bad Kitty, in second, appeared to gamble, leaving Malcolm Island to starboard and went through Broughton Strait. Big Broderna, in third, followed the Burd Brothers. As of 2100 Tuesday night, it appears the gamble didn’t work. Bad Kitty is now in third and Big Broderna is in second trying to reel in the Burd Brothers. They’re all at the top of Vancouver Island with a lot of water ahead of them, so one can’t get too confident or disappointed.

Team 3 and ½ Aussies is alone in 4th place about midway in Johnstone Strait and Ketch me if you can is in 5th starting their run at Johnstone.

Five teams above the Narrows but slack is 9:19 with six teams at Campbell River with more arriving shortly. Two of those six, Roger Mann on Discovery and West Coast Wild Ones, appear poised to take advantage of the evening slack. The others may wait until either the 3:51 a.m. slack or perhaps the 8:58 slack. Between the evening slack and the 3:51 slack the current is moving in the right direction, but with strong eddies and whirlpools. Arriving near peak current last night, the Burd brothers faced a choice. Wait and watch their lead diminish or go for it. I’m not privy to their deliberation, but their description was great:

They recalled the entry into the narrows as the “darkest of dark you can imagine and nearly max current”. Fading wind, little steerage but they were prepared – hatch covers, Ocean Rodeo suits, headlamps, and deck vests on. As they entered “the gut of the narrows” they could hear, but not see, breaking waves. “Here we go!” they thought. Only to find that the breaking waves were really a school of 30 to 40 porpoises. I suspect they were Pacific Whitesided Dolphins, but in any case the porpoises/dolphins played with their bow and made an already memorable trip that much more memorable.

The next 10 hours or so will be great to watch on who makes what decision. I suspect the 8:58 slack will be a busy one for R2AK, although the aggressive may try earlier.

Pear Shaped Racing has formally retired and Team Kairos is having some issues with their row cruiser and trying to make repairs.

Sistership hit some rocks exiting Active Pass and has posted some heartbreaking posts. Their centerboard is jammed in the up position and they were just towed back to Nanaimo. They’ll need to be hauled out of the water and then make the decision whether or not to carry on and go for Ketchikan. It’s tough watching the live posts they’ve made — the disappointment is palpable. I’m hoping they go for it as they can still find their race picking off the slower craft. They’ve got a good boat and a good crew.

If there’s a most improved boat, team Kelp had a good day. Would have been better had they gotten up a little earlier the past few days (ahem:).

More on the smaller human powered boats later – they are holding their own and the North2Alaska guys are really making a fine accounting of themselves.

As this missive closes, I’m thinking about Roger Mann, alone in his boat, making the 9 p.m. slack. He’s not going to get much sleep tonight.

UPDATE, 9 a.m. 6/13/17:

Team Pure & Wild/Freeburd, Team Bad Kitty and Team Big Broderna are building a lead in Johnstone Strait. Click on the image to view tracker live.

The overall picture hasn’t changed much, but the Burd brothers didn’t wait for slack and took Seymour Narrows on shortly after midnight. Bad Kitty and Big Broderna also got through the checkpoint at Campbell River and are through the Narrows. The Burd brothers hold roughly a 15 nautical mile lead over Bad Kitty, slightly less than what they had leading up to Campbell River. The wind is blowing and they’ve got an adverse current at present.

Roger Mann was up early as were the boys in North2Alaska and Matt Prius in Viz Reporter.

A quick note on North2Alaska: When I was in Port Townsend, I looked at this boat. It’s a high school project, a home made welded aluminum sharpie. Their oars appeared to be crude affairs so heavy they were counter balanced with zincs. The unstayed masts wobbled and the thought of five souls aboard (four teenagers just graduated from high school plus one dad), made me shudder. Privately I didn’t give them much of a shot to make it to Victoria much less Ketchikan. There’s still a lot of water between them and Ketchikan, but they have put in long days and the last two mornings beat the sun up getting underway. Ahead of some faster, more capable boats, these guys are bring their A game and then some. This morning they left Lasqueti Island and are headed north. In any case, my earlier assessment of their chances was flat wrong. And being wrong on something like this makes me very happy as it’s exactly that type of performance by young people that provides hope for the future.

Team Sistership took an odd turn last night, getting out of the strait and pulled into French Creek. No movement yet this morning. Hope all is well with them. The rest of the field is scattered throughout Georgia Strait.

It’s another day for R2AK!

Original Post, 9:30 p.m. 6/12/17:

Screen shot of the race tracker at 9:32 p.m. Click on the image to view the tracker live.

R2AK is off and running. Similar to the start at Port Townsend, the Victoria re-start was in calm weather. Unlike the Port Townsend start, the forecasted calm wind was supposed to last all day.

Unfortunately, when the racers took off from Victoria Harbour at high noon on Sunday it was marred by a collision between a powerboat and team Oaracle. The powerboat came up behind the rowers and caused some damage, but fortunately no injuries. Clearly the overtaking and hence burdened vessel, the powerboat’s operator yelled at the rowers and reportedly took off — the equivalent of an aquatic hit and run.

Just days before, the Port Townsend to Victoria race was really two races. Or, more candidly, a race then a fight for survival. The predicted heavy wind arrive and, in the words of Jake Beattie, “went from zero to 50 as if it had something to prove.” For a full recap of that leg, Jake’s writing is well worth a read.

As of this writing, Monday afternoon, Team Pure and Wild/Freeburd, with the brothers Burd ( Tripp, Chris and Trevor) are opening up a commanding lead, charging up the Strait of Georgia despite hitting something hard last night. Overnight and earlier into the morning Pear Shaped Racing had been giving them competition, but a log strike at 8 knots sent them into Nanaimo for inspection.

The Burd brothers vessel has a nice combination of fast sailing, an effective propulsion system (Pedal powered) and three athletic young men as crew. They can deal with calms, they can deal with wind and they don’t have to stop. They were the first sailboat to arrive in Victoria, arriving just minutes before Pear Shaped Racing, PT Watercraft and Bad Kitty. All fast boats, but the log strike certainly impacted the Pear Shaped team and PT Watercraft has a crew of one, who will need to sleep. Bad Kitty and Big Broderna are sure to provide some competition, but it’s setting up to have the Burd brothers get through Seymour Narrows a slack or two before their nearest rival. They’re aiming for the slack around 2000 hours tonight.

Of the three paddleboarders, Karl Kruger is showing how it’s done. He was up early this morning and moving – currently the first of the primarily human powered craft. Following close behind is Rod Price in his canoe (looks like a kayak with training wheels, but he’s got a single sided paddle and technically it’s a canoe) and Viz Reporter (Matt Prius). All three opted to avoid Dodd Narrows and went through False Narrows shortly after noon. The other two paddle boarders, Luke Burritt and Edrogan Kirac with ‘Stoked on Fuel” have been at Van Isle Marina all morning but got underway shortly after noon and opted to go through Sansum narrows. So far, all the other teams going up the inside opted to take Trincomali Channel.

Roger Mann opted for open water and surprisingly is ahead of larger boats with larger crews. If he slept at all last night, it wasn’t for very long.

The rest of the fleet is split between ‘inside’ and ‘outside’ with the larger cats and tri’s headed outside and the primarily human powered craft going inside through the Gulf Islands. For the smaller teams unable to go 24 hours a day, the length of their day will make a difference. The Port Townsend high school boys were up and at it early this morning as were many of the teams. Some chose to sleep in. As we’ve seen before, the cumulative effect of those different habits will string out the fleet over the next week.

Some of the teams did a hybrid approach, going up the inside, but escaping the Gulf Islands through one of the passes. Kelp and Sistership opted for Active pass, and North2Alaska and Adventourists took Porlier Pass.

Speaking of what’s coming next, it’s wind. There’s a strong wind warning in Johnstone Strait later today, tonight and tomorrow. Thursday will be 25 – 35, but out of the southeast. From personal experience in a small boat with less than a foot of freeboard, Johnstone Strait can be brutal, but at least it’ll be a following sea on Thursday. The wind will pick up in Georgia Strait as well, making up for the earlier easy time for the human powered craft. Look for the racers to spread out. Some will take advantage of the wind and charge forward, others will try and avoid the wind respecting their vessels and perhaps their own limitations. This isn’t really a race. But then again, it is.