#so day to day shes her normal coy self

[leviiackrman]

"I don't feel in control sometimes. After all... I have someone else's thoughts in my head."

more edits || character page || x.x

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[zweiginator]

yes !! art feeling left out of the whole patrick-tashi and her roommate thing that he only found out about because patrick of course told him and he's so fucking jealous because he always had the biggest crush on reader ...

yes yes YES!

imagining patrick and tashi go out with art one day. art is crossing his fingers hoping you'll be there but you aren't. you had gone home for the weekend.

and he notices how weird tashi and patrick are acting. they're much more cuddly and happy-go-lucky. weird, because they normally are way more argumentative with each other, more hotheaded. not that they had a bad relationship--that was just them.

"you guys seem--happy." art says. they are at their favorite pizza place.

"all three of us won our matches, why wouldn't we be?" tashi looks confused; she takes a sip of her water.

"i mean like, generally. not that that's bad--just curious."

patrick shrugs. does this stupid little smirk that drives art mad. like he's trying to be coy but also wants to let you know that something big definitely happened.

so he and patrick do their tug-of-war. patrick lets on that he has news, art asks him to tell him. patrick says no, no, i can't. art ends up begging until patrick decides he will be a good friend and let him in on the secret.

he looks at tashi. who clearly doesn't want patrick to tell art, but she rolls her eyes and says go ahead.

"we've been--" patrick pauses. for dramatic effect or just to gather his thoughts--art doesn't know. "fooling around with y/n."

art's face drops. "like tashi's roommate?" he has so many questions. "what do you mean, fooling around? we?"

"i dunno." patrick shrugs. "she's inexperienced so we are showing her the ropes, i guess. not a big deal."

"so you're having-" art lowers his voice. "threesomes?"

"no. i wouldn't consider it a threesome at all."

patrick explains the dynamic. art shouldn't be asking about this, and realistically, they shouldn't be delving into all this with a third party--but they can't help it. they like the novelty of it all. how taboo it is. and patrick loves to one-up art. to peacock.

so art listens to how patrick ate your pussy. patrick goes into everything in such intricate detail. art almost shatters his glass when tashi and patrick explain how they taught her how to suck cock.

"jesus christ." is all art can say. it's not like it makes him respect you less, but he is jealous. he has been right there, a close friend of tashi and patrick's for years, close enough for you to grasp onto him--for years. and you choose patrick. a tale as old as time.

"you okay, artie?" tashi asks. she reaches over the table to touch art's hand.

patrick knows that look on art's face. that seething yet boyish anger that permeates his features. makes him look livid and like a dejected, abandoned little puppy all at once. patrick has only seen that look during situations when art is fucking infuriated. when they were little, it happened when art dropped his ice cream cone. then it became commonplace when art lost a tennis match. and from his adolescence and into early adulthood patrick had only seen it one time--when patrick went on a date with a girl he liked.

but that was a date. an innocuous date to a shitty movie. they never kissed and they never saw each other again. so this look was menacing, it had a bite to it.

but art felt stupid being upset. he had never told anyone about his crush; it felt easier that way, when he was inevitably let down. but patrick had everything--the tennis skills, the wealthy family, the pretty, perfect girlfriend that everyone on campus wanted. it felt like a fucking kick to the stomach to art that he got you too. and of course, to patrick, you were just another notch in his belt.

"fuck." patrick feels awful. he knows how art gets with crushes. idealizes them, let them suffocate his thoughts, self-sabotage, rinse, repeat. he rests his head in his hands. "dude, i didn't know. i'm sorry."

tashi interjects. "what am i missing?"

"art has a crush on her."

"why didn't you tell us we could've-"

art interrupts tashi. "well it's too late now.

"hear me out." nothing good patrick has ever said has started with those words. but art listens. "join us for a lesson."

"do you fucking hear yourself patrick?" art crumples a napkin, throws it on his plate. "i just told you i like this girl--who you're not even romantically involved in beyond corrupting her--and you're saying oh, i can share her with you. like, fuck off."

"will you just listen?"

"no, i won't." he gets up, fumbles with his car keys. "fuck you guys. all you do is think about yourselves. you have these weird fantasies of like, dominating everyone you know. all your relationships have an awkward fucking hierarchy. like, have you ever thought of just being normal? having normal relationships with people? whatever you're doing with her--isn't normal. it's fucking manipulative. and we all know that anything you guys can't manipulate isn't worth your fucking time. so i'll just leave now."

(angsty cliffhanger for dramatic effect)

[miniwheat77]

Slut. (Stepdad!Graves x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, age gap (gap is up to you), slurs, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cheating, virginity loss, virgin!reader, NO MINORS!

“It’s only for a couple months. It’s not ideal for me but she’s really going through it.”

He sighs, crossing his arms as he looks at your mom. “What exactly is she going through? And you know I’ll never say no to that.” He laughs. Your mom sighs. “She broke up with her boyfriend and I guess he started spreading a rumor around their campus and the other college kids really started laying into her. So she’s just taking a break for a while and needs a place to stay.”

He nods his head. “That’s fine. It would be a lot easier if I had ever met the girl.” He laughs. “Yeah. You know how it is though. With her dad and us getting married like 6 months into knowing each other. She didn’t want to be around.” She sighs. “I get it.” He nods. “So when does she come around?” He asks. “She’ll be in tomorrow.”

Phillip nods his head, sipping on his coffee.

This was going to be eventful.

———

It’s about three in the afternoon the following day when your car rolls into the driveway and you’re not exactly what he’d expected. You knock at the door and you seem quiet and shy as your mom opens the door. When you step inside, he stands up and really takes in your appearance. You’re gorgeous but you don’t look anything like your mom which makes him think you take after your dad. He’s never met him, so he’ll never know.

Your eyes are soft yet piercing at the same time and your hair frames your face. You’re beautiful. He gives a smile and introduces himself, shaking your hand. “Hi. I’m Phillip, it’s nice to finally meet you.” You smile up at him, eyes avoiding eye contact.

Your mom shows you up to a spare room, and this is going to be his life now. Once she finishes showing you the room, you’re up there unpacking for a while.

“She.. is different.” Your mom opens up to Phillip later on in the night. They’re getting ready for bed. You’ve been in your room for a few hours now, it’s been nothing but silent.

“What do you mean?”

“She just.. she’s so quiet and coy now. And that was never like her before. When she went off to college I thought for sure she was going to be kicked out within the first week.” She sighs. “I’m sure she’s just growing up.” He shrugs. “No.. it’s definitely not that. Whatever those kids did to her there.. it really messed her up.” Your mom seems distraught.

“Look, I’m sure she’ll be fine. Give it a couple months and I’m sure she’ll be back to her normal self in no time.” He smiles.

———

You don’t spend much time around them. You spend hours and hours in your room or out of the house. They don’t pry too much because you’re an adult after all. It’s almost like you’re not even there. Which is ideal, he imagines. But it’s weird.

During your first week, your mom learns she has to go on a business trip for training a couple hours away, which makes Phillip nervous. She imagines it’ll be good time for the both of you to bond, asks him to take you out to dinner and try to get you to open up. He doesn’t know how to feel but says he’ll try. Although he doesn’t think he actually will. He doesn’t want to bother you.

When she leaves, he takes it as an opportunity.

He invites you down for dinner of course, and for a couple of days, you actually do join him. One of these times he chooses to corner you.

“So. What brought you home from college? Your mom said there was something about a boy.” He sees the way you tense up, and get worried. He shouldn’t have come on so strong. “I.. sorry. That was rude of me. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want, your mom is just really worried about you.” He mumbles.

You swallow hard and look down at the table in front of you. “Uh..” you hesitate. “Well. I had a boyfriend and some stuff happened. And when we first got together I was young and stupid and sent him pictures I shouldn’t have and when we broke up, he sent them around to people and they spread to most of the people at my college. So they were just..” you swallow hard. “Calling me names. Like a slut and whatever.” You breathe. “Didn’t your mom ever have that talk with you? To not send stuff like that around?” He asks. You look up at him. “No?”

He looks confused. “Really?”

“I.. don’t want to be that person, but my mom was never there for me.”

He’s confused. Your mom had made it seem like she was such an active part of your life, hearing this was foreign. “I had no idea. She made it sound like you two were really close.”

You shake your head. “No.. she struggled with alcohol so I lived with my dad. And he wasn’t always the greatest. So no.. nobody really taught me much. But I found out. Unfortunately it was the hard way.” You mumble. “I was reluctant to come here but.. I appreciate you giving me a place to stay Phillip. You seem like a good guy.” You smile, only locking eyes with him for a couple seconds before excusing yourself from the table. He wonders why your mom would lie about being a good mother.

It’s a couple days later when Phillip royally fucks up.

He’s got a couple friends over, he tells you about it before he invites them. You obviously say it’s his house he can do whatever he wants.

They’ve been over a few hours now, they’re watching football and drinking beer. Maybe he’d had a little too much to drink.

He goes to put some laundry away because he hears the dryer beeping that the clothes are done. He knows how pissed your mom will be if he forgets to do laundry while she’s out.

He’s passing by the kitchen to run the clean clothes into the living room, dropping articles of clothing as he walks. He sets them down on the couch to deal with later. He’s too drunk to care about it. He picks up the other clothes he dropped and throws them onto the pile, than sits down. He picks up his beer again, but one of his friends notices something on top of the pile of clothes.

He tucks his finger under the lacy panties, lifting it up. He moves it back and fourth. “This your wife’s?” He chuckles. Phillip laughs. “Nah, not a chance in hell.”

“Must belong to that sexy little step daughter of yours than, ah?”

Phillip scoffs, shaking his head. Groaning when his friend throws them on him.

“Y/N! Come here!” He yells. It startles you in your room and you stand up in a hurry, making your way down the stairs and into the living room. You’re worried it’s something serious but when you step into the living room, you freeze when all eyes are on you. “These belong to you?” He smirks. Raising up the pair of panties that must’ve gotten mixed up in your laundry. “Uh- y-yes.“ you hesitate. He tosses them at you. You catch them. “Maybe you should be more careful about where you’re leaving things like that, yeah? I mean I know people already call you a slut but you don’t want to start acting like one here too.” He smirks. Your heart falls right into your stomach and he can see the pain fill your doe eyes as you look back at him.

“Y-yes sir.” You swallow the lump in your throat. Turning away and rushing back up the stairs, hearing his friends laugh at you as you hurry away. Tears fill your eyes and you barely hold them back until the door is closed.

The moment it’s latched and locked, tears spill over your eyelids.

You were so stupid to get yourself into this situation.

———

Phillip wakes up on the couch, his head is pounding.

He’s still in his clothes from the day before and he groans out. His eyes glances over to the pile of unfolded laundry, his friends have all left. He sits up, trying to remember any of the events that happened the night before. Something feels off. He rubs his eyes, groaning as he stands up from the couch.

He stands up, starting to clean up the mess they’d made the day before. Walking into the kitchen to dig out an energy drink he’d left in there. Once he’s got all the trash, bottles, and dishes up. He makes his way to the pile of laundry. He starts to fold them, stacking them up and when his fingers glide over the lace hem of a tank top, he freezes.

His blood runs cold when the memories come flooding in all at once.

His friend picking up the panties, him calling you downstairs. What he had said to you. He drops the clothes and hurries up the stairs, he needed to apologize immediately.

He knocks at your door, but doesn’t get an answer. “Y/N?” He asks. He hopes you’re inside.

No reply. He tries the door handle and to his surprise, it opens up.

You’re not inside anywhere. But he sees your duffel bag is half packed again. He notices some of your items laid out on your bed, including your phone. Along with a ripped makeup bag. That must be where you went. To get a new one.

To continue to pack your things again.

So you could leave.

Phillip feels like the biggest prick in the world, why would he have even said that to you? What the hell was wrong with him?

He wonders why you’d left your phone.

He wanders in and picks it up, opening it up. He’s surprised when there’s no passcode on it. He opens it right up and he knows it’s not his place to be going through it, but he does.

He goes right to your messages, he wonders if you told your mom about what he had said. He doesn’t see her conversation for a few names down. The first messages he notices are from someone named Dylan. He remembers hearing about him before, thinking he must be your old boyfriend. He opens up the chat which makes him realize this was a mistake.

There’s about a hundred messages of him calling you names. All kinds of names under the sun, most of them being along the lines of a slut or whore. He sees the photos you had sent when you first met him in college. The photos make him sick, your face isn’t in them and they’re not entirely nude. That doesn’t change anything. He backs out of the conversation and sees many others from people you were going to college with. They’re harassing you nonstop and you even receive a few messages while he’s going through it. All slurs.

He goes to the conversation you’d had with your mom. And what he finds, he’s not too happy with.

He finds out that this has been going on for far longer than he thought, and that your mom had actually turned you down for the first few months. Saying that her and Phillip had no room for you and that you’d just have to tough it out, and before that. She had only messaged you maybe twice on your birthdays the few years previously. Other than that, nothing.

It makes Phillip realize the kind of mom she’d really been to you. And that you hadn’t made any of it up. That she really was an absent mom.

“What are you doing?”

You startle him. He quickly closes your phone, standing up from where he had sat on your bed. “I- I just-“ he takes a deep breath. “I came up here to see if you were here.” He starts. You cross your arms, avoiding his gaze. “Listen.. what I said last night Y/N. I was being a fucking idiot and I was just-“

“It’s fine.” You interrupt him. “It’s not fine. What I did was so fucked up, and I’m so sorry Y/N.” He sighs. “And.. this?” He holds up your phone. “It’s mine until further notice.”

“What?” Your eyes widen. “Listen to me.” He sighs. “What’s in this phone? Is a crime. And you and I are going to go on a road trip so that I can take care of this for you. Understand?”

“I don’t need you to do that.” You avoid his eyes. “Of course you don’t. But I’m going to. So please. If you’ll bring your bag with a change of clothes. We’re leaving in 15.” He sighs. Passing you to leave.

Your college was a few hours away.

When he comes back a few minutes later, your bag is packed. “Listen, Phillip. I’m going to go stay with a couple friends a few hours away. I don’t want to do any of this anymore-“

He shakes his head. “Listen sweetheart. I know you’re not mine, but I’m not letting this go. We’re taking care of this. Now come on.” He nods his head for you to follow him. You sigh. He grasps your duffel bag, carrying it down the stairs and out to his truck, making sure to lock the door behind the both of you. He doesn’t tell your mom where he’s going, to be honest he’s kind of pissed at her anyways.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you don’t deserve this. And these fucking assholes that are sending you this shit deserve some repercussions for the way they’re acting.”

“You.. do realize you said exactly what they’re saying about me… right?”

The words sting a bit. “I don’t think that about you. I was just.. being stupid.” He sighs.

The entire car ride is mostly silent.

He’s the one who finally breaks the silence. “The photos. How old were you when you sent them to him?” He asks. You shrug. “I don’t know. Eighteen or something.”

“Did you have sex with him?”

You turn to look at him. “No!” Your eyes are wide. “So why’d you send the pictures?”

“Because he wouldn’t leave me alone.” You sigh. “I don’t understand why they’re calling you a slut if you literally sent your boyfriend photos. Personally.” He sighs. He picks up his energy drink from the cup holder and takes a drink.

“I’m just as stumped as you, cause I’ve never even had sex.” You mumble.

He presses the breaks a little too hard, sputtering on the drink. He coughs violently, seeing you look at him in surprise. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You’re a virgin?”

“Uh… yeah.” You mumble.

“Jesus H- ugh.” He growls.

“Y/N. I’m sorry sweetheart.” He sighs. “I feel so much worse now knowing that. I mean.. Jesus Christ.”

The rest of the drive is quiet, mostly him wiping the energy drink off of himself and his steering wheel.

You reach the campus after those 3 long hours and he pulls up. It’s the middle of the day.

As you approach the doors to the entrance, you’re getting so many stares. “Phillip…” you mumble. “I know. Just keep walking okay?” He mumbles, pulling you closer to him. He’s wearing his military attire, everything but the vest and head gear. It has his name and branch on the front. He’s official.

You sigh. He walks inside, walking right up to the front desk. You’re following close behind him. “Y/N. Back so soon?” She smiles. “Yeah, actually I was wondering who I would speak to about some issues she’s been having with some of the other students.” Phillip talks for you. “Oh.. uh. Right this way.” She smiles. She leads the both of you into the office of someone very important, you can tell by the sheer size of the office. You feel like a little girl following her dad in so he can scold the principal.

“Hi. Take a seat. How can I help you?” He smiles.

“Ah, so you’re the person I’m looking for.” Phillip smiles. “So.. to make a long story short, Y/N and her boyfriend split up and he got mad. So he leaked some photos that she had sent him, that’s not really my issue. I’ll pursue further legal action with him. But a couple of other students who don’t know Y/N managed to get her phone number and have been nonstop harassing her since it happened. I have her phone here.” He slides it over to him. “What.. uh. I’m sorry.” He pauses. “What do you want me to do exactly?”

“Y/N, sweetheart. Will you step out into the hallway for a moment please?” Phillip smiles. You nod your head, standing up and exiting through the door. You take a seat in the chair just outside the door.

“I don’t think we’ve met. My name is Phillip Graves. More specifically Commander Phillip Graves. And I really hope this meeting goes the correct way because if it doesn’t, there will be hell to pay. You have their names and phone numbers and I expect this to be taken care of before I sue the holy hell out of this place, and with my standing, I will not lose. Do I make myself clear?”

The man gulps on the other side of the table. Realizing the severity of the situation he’s in. “Y-yeah. Of course. I’ll get them taken care of, may I write down their names and phone numbers?”

“Of course. And before you deal with Dylan, I’d like to speak with him myself, thank you. It was nice meeting you.” He smiles, reaching his hand across his desk for a very firm handshake. Once he’s done taking down their numbers, Phillip exits the office. He smiles when he sees you and helps you up from your chair, leading you out. “Let’s go find a hotel room for the night, yeah?” He smiles.

He leads you back out the school. Walking as if he hasn’t just raised hell in there.

———

Phillip has your phone in hand. He’s sent Dylan a text. It’s wrong of course. How he’s pretending to be you.

Hey. Can we please meet up and talk?

Phillip is sitting about a block away from the bus stop, where he’d asked him to meet. He sees him approaching, once he reaches it, he sits down on the bench. He looks around for you, not seeing you. This is when Phillip goes in for the kill. He makes his way toward the bus stop, Dylan sees him and gets uneasy.

“You must be Dylan.”

“What is this?” He asks, standing up from the bench. He’s trying to look tough.

“I’m Phillip.” He smiles. “What’s going on?”

“I’m Y/N’s step dad.”

He scoffs. “What, the military freak? She sent you?” He turns just slightly to walk away. “She’s probably fucking you too huh? Slut.”

Phillip swings and hits Dylan with a right hook, sending him back. Before he can hit the ground, he steadies him by grabbing his shoulder and punching him in the stomach as hard as he can. He hears Dylan cough and sputter.

“I saw the messages you’ve sent her. Along with your little friends.” He yanks him up by the back of his collar.

“Now listen to me, yeah?” Phillip is seething. “You’re gonna leave Y/N alone. If I see even one message from you or any of your friends, I will bury you and your mom won’t even know where to begin looking. You better spread the word. You leave her alone or so help me god…” he breathes. He’s pissed. “Okay! Okay- please just let me go!” He breathes. Phillip takes one last swing and knocks him back. His back hitting the ground with a thud. He shakes the pain out of his fist. “I hope you remember this the next time you want to leak nude photos of someone.”

Phillip walks away. Leaving him there on the ground.

———

The following day, he gets the call that at least 7 students have been expelled entirely from the college. Including Dylan. An announcement being made about a zero tolerance for bullying and harassment. It’s going to save your college experience from there on out.

He’s got a hold of your phone for now, and you notice as he drives home that his knuckles are completely torn to shreds. It makes you think that maybe when he’d gone out to get ice the night before, that maybe he wasn’t really getting any ice.

You’re not sure what the feeling is in your gut. His tight white t-shirt and blue jeans. His split knuckles from what you hope was him beating the holy hell out of dylan and how you would’ve loved to have seen it for yourself. Your step dad pummeling him.

You can’t help but clench your thighs together. What were you thinking?

“You know.. I know you’re not mine. And I don’t have any kids. But if you ever need anything at all, don’t be afraid to ask. I don’t have all the answers but I grew up with sisters and I know some stuff.” He looks at you. You turn to look at him.

Your eyes shine under the sun. Your doe eyes looking up at him.

He gets a feeling in his gut that he can’t shake. He shouldn’t be feeling like this.

“Thank you, Phillip. But I’ll be alright. If I ever need anything, I’ll be sure to ask.” You smile.

He smiles. “I think I’ve learned my lesson.” You mumble. He sighs. “Hey. This wasn’t supposed to be a lesson. It’s not your fault that people are assholes.” You giggle. “Besides. Your mom is supposed to be there to help you with this kind’ve thing.” You shrug. “Yeah.. unfortunately I don’t have that.” You mumble. “She’ll always be the victim, you know?” You turn to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“No matter what story. Who was the aggressor, it doesn’t matter if she’s said the most unkind things in the world. She’ll always play the victim.” You rest your arm on the center console. He sighs. “Yeah. I’m realizing that.”

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to marry someone you just met?” You smirk. “Uh yeah. Actually she did. It’s not her fault I didn’t listen.” He laughs, nudging you with his elbow. You laugh. You liked Phillip. He was a good man.

When he’s not drinking anyways.

———

“It was nice of you to do that for her Phillip, but she’s a big girl. She can fight her own battles.”

They’re the first words out of your mom’s mouth, and it really gets under his skin. He didn’t tell her everything. Not about how he’d beat up Dylan or threatened to sue if actions weren’t taken.

“You know. When I went through her phone, I saw the messages between the both of you.” He pauses. Taking in a deep breath. “I have to say I was pretty shocked. I only saw a couple happy birthday messages. Not “how are you?” Not “when are you going to visit?” No “I miss you” nothing.” He looks at her. She pauses, turning to look at him. “What are you saying?”

“It’s just weird. You made yourself out to be this super supportive mom who was always there for her daughter. And you turned her down for months while this was going on. And for what? Nothing?”

She groans. “Phillip. Are we really going to do this? Sometimes I just don’t have the mental capacity to deal with Y/N. She’s an adult.”

He shakes his head. “You make it seem like she doesn’t handle her own issues. When to me, it seems like she’s been fighting her own battles her whole life. No thanks to you.”

When the words leave his mouth, she’s fuming. “You know, I knew this was going to happen when I told her she could stay here.” She growls. “What are you talking about?” He’s confused. “She ruins everything. She’s like a tornado, everywhere she goes she ruins everything.” He scoffs. “This isn’t her fault.” He shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.” He mumbles. She starts gathering her items into a small bag. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to stay with a friend for tonight. I can’t deal with this.”

He laughs. “I’m starting to think you’re not who you say you are.”

Those words make her pause.

She looks up at him.

“I want a divorce.” She blurts the words out before she can even process them herself.

“You got it, honey.”

This only pisses her off further, she picks the bag up and leaves.

You’re coming up the stairs as she’s going down them, slamming right into her. “Oh- sorry mom!” You step to the side. “You should be sorry. You ruin everything.”

He hears this, going down the stairs. She rushes down them, you follow after her. “What? What’s going on?”

“You ruin everything. You’ve been here a week and you’ve already destroyed my marriage. If you weren’t a slut, we wouldn’t even be doing this!” Your eyes widen at her words. She slams the door behind herself. He groans. “Look.. she’s just mad alright? She doesn’t mean it.” He sighs. “What happened?”

“I just.. we got into a fight.” He sighs. “Everything will be fine by tomorrow alright? I’m gonna go after her.”

And just like that, you’re alone.

You sigh.

As much as you hated it, she was right.

You ruined absolutely everything you crossed paths with. You only met Phillip a week ago and things have already changed so much.

Every single person around you called you names. When you didn’t do anything to deserve it. You made your way up the stairs and gathered all of your belongings. Shoving everything into that same duffel bag, once again. You made sure you had all of it, tidying up the room. Neater than the way you found it. You made your way downstairs and out to your car, throwing the bag in the back seat and climbing into the front. You know there’s a lake across town, it’s dark and probably not the best idea, but you drive there anyways. You park in the parking lot and lock your car behind you, making your way out onto the dock. Sitting down and letting your feet dangle just above the water. You wish Phillip hadn’t taken your phone.

Phillip follows your mom, wondering where she’ll end up. He has a good feeling where she’s going isn’t going to be good.

He sees her pull into the driveway, a man coming out onto the front porch. Greeting her with a hug. He wonders who it is, until she leans in for a kiss.

He drives past, circling the block to get back to you. He can’t save his marriage but he can save his relationship with you. Step daughter or not, he cares about you. He sees your car is gone, rushing inside to see that all of your things are gone. He’s defeated. He would just have to look for you.

He leaves the house, making sure to lock the door behind himself. He would take care of everything later. He just needs to get to you.

He doesn’t know where to look. He doesn’t know if you’ll get a hotel, so he drives past a few. But doesn’t see your car. He’s about to give up when he passes by the sign, that the lake is only 10 miles out. It’s a shot in the dark, but he takes it anyways. Those 10 miles feel like hours, and when he sees your car in the parking lot, relief flows over him.

He parks next to your car, climbing out. He doesn’t see you inside. Wondering where you’ve gone, when he sees your shadow on the dock.

He makes his way out to you, slow. He doesn’t want to startle you.

“Shouldn’t be out this late.” He mumbles.

You don’t move. “Nowhere else in the world to go.” You sigh. He moves to sit next to you. “Why are you here?” You turn to him. “Well. You’re upset, and I care about you.”

“My mom was upset too.”

“Yeah well. She’s preoccupied. Getting comforted by another guy.” Your eyes widen.

“I’m sorry..” you breathe. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.” He laughs.

“I should’ve never come here.”

He laughs. “I’m glad you did. Because you might’ve just saved me a lot of wasted time.” He smiles. “You know.. what she said to you..” he sighs. “It’s not true. You’re not a slut.” You look down at your hands. “I’ve heard it so much these last few months.” You laugh. “I swear, people just hate me. She’s right, I do ruin everything. I don’t know why. I try so hard to fit in and please people. But I always fall short. Sometimes I wonder if the world would be better off if I was dead.”

He shakes his head. “No. It wouldn’t,”

He swallows hard. “Honestly, I think you’d be so much better off if you just told people to fuck off every once in a while.”

You turn to look at him. “I’m serious. You can’t please everyone, if people can’t be nice to you, or like you for you, they can fuck off.” You can’t help but laugh. “You’re a good girl. You’re nice, you’re funny. You’re fucking stunning. I mean seriously, people are lucky to have you around and it’s not your fault that they choose to ignore it.”

“You’re so full of shit.” You laugh.

He laughs, shaking his head. “You gave no idea. That stupid boyfriend of yours really fucked up. He fucking fumbled a good girl. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’ll regret it.”

“Judging by your knuckles, I think he’ll regret it sooner than later.” You glance in his direction. He doesn’t see you very well but he can. He snorts. “Asshole had it coming.”

“I think you’re a good person, Phillip. I think that my mom didn’t know what she had.” You look up at him. “You might’ve implied I was a slut but at least you weren’t sober when you said it.” You look away. He sighs. “Yeah, I wish I could throw a punch at myself every once in a while.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s not true. I was being a prick.” He sighs.

You snort. "Of course it's true. Virgins can't be sluts." You laugh. He can feel crimson creeping up his cheeks at your comment.

He raises his feet up onto the dock, untying his shoes and sliding them off. Taking his socks off. “What are you doing?” You ask. “It’s hot tonight. Gonna test the water out.” He smirks. He tugs his shirt off, you can see how toned he is. With his job, he’s really fit. You turn away, swallowing hard. He slides into the water, a slight gasp leaving his lips. “You’re crazy.” You laugh. He takes in a sharp breath. "It's not bad. Get in." He smiles. "No way!" You shake your head. "Oh come on. It's no bad once you get used to it." He laughs. He's moving his hand back and fourth to keep himself afloat. You shake your head. "Is this even allowed?" You ask. "Course it is. People do it all the time." You shake your head. “Get in or I’m gonna splash you.” He smirks. “No!” You stand up, backing away from the edge of the dock. “Oh come on, I’m not actually gonna do it.” He laughs. He lowers himself down into the water, disappearing under the surface for a minute before coming back out. He shakes his now soaked hair. You can feel that same weird feeling building in your gut.

He makes you feel so weird, feelings you’ve never felt before.

“Don’t make me a loner sweetheart.” He pouts.

You roll your eyes reaching for your shoes. He laughs, “Atta girl.”

You swallow hard, trying not to go stiff at his words. Once you have your shoes off, you slide your foot into the water. He’ right, it’s not so bad. You slide in, when the water engulfs you, you let out a gasp. He laughs at you. “There we go! See? Not so bad.” He laughs.

“Uh.. Phillip?” You ask. Noticing headlights in the distance. They’re pulling into the parking lot. “Well. That’s not good.” He laughs. “What?” You look nervous. “I thought you said this was okay?” You ask. “Uhhh. Yeah. I lied. Come here!” He grasps your shirt, tugging you along. “Deep breath.” He goes under the water, pulling you underneath the dock, you can barely see through the cracks of them. You hear the tires of the car on the asphalt. He presses his fingers to his lips to silently shush you. You look him in the eyes, looking up at the dock. You hear a car door slam. “Are you sure it’s his truck?”

“Yes!” She shrieks. “And her car!” It’s your mom. How did they know you were here?”

“Look. Let’s just go alright? We’ll come back into town tomorrow and deal with it. The wood of the dock creaks above you. She’s walking out onto it. “Where are they?” She growls. “I saw his truck drive by when you got to my house earlier. He slowed down.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Maybe he knows. Thats why he came here.”

She sighs. “Whatever. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” She growls. “Let’s go.”

They’re leaving town, that’s how she seen his truck. He notices something out of the corner of his eye, something falling into the water beside the dock. Something cloth. “Shit.” He hears the man mumble. He grasps hold of you, pulling you into him. Clamping a hand over your mouth to stop the gasp. He leans over the edge of the dock to grab it. Phillip takes a deep breath when he hears their footsteps leaving. Their car doors close and he hears them driving away.

“Shit.. that was close.” He laughs. He draws his hand away, moving away from you. He slides out from under the dock and you follow after him. “Can I ask you something?” You mumble. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Does losing your virginity hurt as bad as everyone says it does?” His eyes widen slightly at your question.

He clears his throat. “Uh.. well.” He swallows hard. “It hurts for women, it doesn’t hurt for guys. But… I think the experience is different depending on the person.” Phillip knows the bare minimum. “Some people tear and bleed and others just.. stretch and it’s just uncomfortable for a minute.” You nod your head. “What does it feel like?” You look up at him. Arms swaying back and forth in the water to keep yourself afloat. “It’s really good. I mean- after the first time for you obviously. It will feel better.” He mumbles. “But the way it feels is unmatched. I can’t even compare it to anything because it’s good.” He shrugs. “Have you not ever… tried for yourself?”

Your eyes widen, shaking your head. “No- no. I don’t even know where to begin.” You mumble. He laughs. “Well. Sex is better than anything you can do for yourself but it still feels good.”

You haven’t noticed, but he’s crept closer. The water pushes him into you slightly.

The tension is thick in the air, and Phillip doesn’t miss the way your eyes glow in the moonlight. That look in your eyes. You had it when he was driving you back from your campus.

“What’s got you so curious?” He moves even closer. “I don’t know.” You mumble. “Just.. with everything going on.” You laugh. Shaking your head. “You don’t have to be in a rush just because of what some assholes say to you.”

“Yeah- I know that. There’s just this one asshole who kind’ve changed my whole life around in like a week of knowing him.” He smirks. “Ohhh. It’s like that?” His smile is sly and it makes you roll your eyes. “Hey- Cmere.” He reaches out. His hand slides around your hip and you stiffen up. “No need to be nervous, wrap your legs are me. I’ll hold you up.” He draws you even closer and you don’t miss the way you rest on him. You wrap your legs around his back, the way your body presses up against his has you shivering. “Cold?”

You nod your head. “Little bit.” You mumble. “You know you’ve changed my life a lot too.” He laughs. “You made me realize what a mistake I’ve made.” You laugh. “Those weren’t my intentions.” You mumble. “No, but it was needed. And honestly because of you, I think it was worth it. Cause you’re a sweet girl.” He laughs. You look down. “Thank you.”

“I don’t know why people don’t see what I see.” He mumbles. “What do you mean?”

“Just.. everyone is so mean to you. I just don’t get it because you’re so sweet.” He mumbles. You stare at him, eyes burning into his.

He’s right. Everyone is mean to you. Your own mom is worse than anyone else.

And that’s why you’re here with her husband and she’s off with some other guy. She doesn’t deserve Phillip. And the way he’s looking at you, maybe it’s time you were selfish.

You run your tongue over your bottom lip. You can feel him getting hard from where your center meets his. You lower your hand, sliding it between the both of you, gliding up the expanse of his erection and he gulps. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t-“

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, feeling him groan into your lips as you press your hand into him. His jeans are wet and they stick to him. Hugging him. “Shit-“ he hisses. His teeth are gritted as you rub your hand over him, palming him. “This isn’t a good idea.” He breathes. “No, it’s a horrible idea.” You breathe. He tugs you closer, your center pressing up against his hard cock. He can feel you melt into him. Shit, you’re into this.

You hold onto him tight, grinding your hips up into him. Whining out at the friction you feel against your nub. It’s minimal but it’s enough to drive you crazy.

He kisses you again.

He’s got a hand on the back of your neck, you can hear the water moving.

He’s moving you to shore.

It’s tough to walk out of the water, his legs feel like jello. He doesn’t even get you all the way to shore before he’s laying you down on the gravel shore. You don’t care how dirty you’ll be. Or how the rocks dig into you. His lips seem to be the only warm thing about him. His hands are cold as they pin your wrists above your head. He hovers over you, kissing you like he’s never kissed a woman before. He’s animalistic almost.

“Phillip-“ you pant. “Yeah?”

“I want you to fuck me.” You mewl, eyes nearly glowing as you look up at him. “But… you’re a-“

“I don’t care.” You breathe. “Are you sure?” He’s breathless too.

You nod your head and he’s so blinded by the lust that he feels for you, he doesn’t need your reassurance. It’s a struggle to get his cock through the zipper on his jeans. They’re sticking to him because they’re so wet. His cock is rock hard, blushing red even though neither of you can see it. You could feel him through his jeans earlier, he’s definitely going to hurt you. But you want him to.

You’re thankful you had shorts on, he pulls them to the side with ease. Spit isn’t lube but it’s all he’s got. And he’s not going to miss this opportunity. You’re here, and you’re ready for him. The moon is disappearing and the sun is starting to rise. It’s that late?

He sits up on his knees, spitting between the both of you. The glob of his saliva makes you jump, it’s warm on your opening. He uses the tip of his cock to slick up your entrance. Pressing the tip between your folds. You gasp, sitting up slightly. “S’alright darling.” He leans back slightly. “You wanna watch?” He breathes. He’s turned on, a different side of Phillip you hadn’t seen before, obviously. His heart thumps in his chest and his eyes are glossed over. Lips and cheeks blushing a shade of pink. Somehow you can still see it. The glare of the remaining moonlight off of the water seems to help. You can’t see well but can see his cock sliding into you.

You wince as he slides further into you, watching him disappear. You gasp as he bottoms out, his thighs press against yours and he’s resting his hands on them. “Shit. You’re doing so good. You’re taking me so well.” He breathes. He slides back, thrusting back in. You hiss, jumping slightly. “It’s okay. I know you’re hurting but you’re doing so good.” He pushes your thighs further apart. He starts slow, hips moving slow into you. Letting you get used to him stretching you out. He picks up the pace as you get used to him. Pretty soon, you’re panting as he fucks into you.

When you’re used to him, you wiggle your hips lower and raise your thighs up, holding them. You wrap your arms under the bends of your knees and give him complete access to your pussy. It’s sexy, and he moves closer, raising himself up and fucking into you at a much faster pace. He can feel your walls throbbing around him and you’re letting out small sounds. It worries him for a second but than you let out a gasp as he adjusts, and just like that’s he’s found it. That sweet spot.

He’ll have you falling apart in no time.

He grits his teeth, stopping to readjust and line himself back up with that spot inside of you. When he finds it again, he fucks you hard. Snapping your hips into yours, cock pressing right up against that spot.

It’s wet from your clothes and the squelch from him sliding into your wet hole is loud. You’re getting louder, moans uncontrollable as he ruins you. Abusing the sweet spot inside of you. You’re tight around him, dragging an orgasm out of him faster than ever before. This is by far the best sex Phillip has ever had. But as the sun rises, he knows there will be other people showing up for a day on the lake. “Phillip!” You gasp. Your thighs shake and your bottom lip quivers. “I know baby- I know it’s a lot. Just relax.” He breathes. He looks down at you, water dripping from his nose and the tips of his hair as he looks down at you. You shake as he keeps hitting that spot, right on. Over and over. You’re not going to last.

You cry out when you cum, and he doesn’t even stop you. Doesn’t quiet you or hush you. He lets you cry for him, nearly sobbing as your high washes over you. The cold water splashing over your feet is what brings you back down, tears spilling from your eyes. He overstimulates you as he keeps going. Harder than before as he uses you to cum. He’s nearly growling, his grip on you is tight and bruising and he can’t keep it together, eyes rolling back as he cums. Your eyes widen, he’s not wearing a condom and he doesn’t pull out. His warm cum fills you up, and he fucks you through his high before he halts his thrusts.

“Fuck- fuck.” He sighs. His chest rises and falls, heart pounding in his chest. His cock is sensitive and pulsing from his orgasm. “Sorry- I got too into it.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You sigh.

“I got too carried away. You okay?” He asks. You nod your head. “I feel like such an asshole.” He laughs, he tucks himself away, adjusting your shorts for you. “I should’ve checked more. Did I hurt you?” He helps you up. “No- no I’m okay.” You laugh. Your legs are shaky as you stand there and he feels bad. This probably isn’t how you wanted to lose your virginity. “Hey. Meet me back at the house okay? Let me take care of you.” He breathes. You nod your head. Trying to hide your gasp when you feel his warmth spilling out between your thighs.

“I’ll run and get you something for that too..” he sighs. “I can do that before we meet back at the house, I have clothes inside my car.” You mumble. “You sure?” You nod your head. You make the awkward walk back to your cars. You get inside and he closes your door for you, moving toward his truck. You tell him when he leaves you’ll change your clothes really quickly in the back seat. He nods his head. “I’ll have the shower ready for you. You’re freezing.” He laughs. You smile.

He gets inside his truck and pulls out of the parking lot, and when his truck is gone, you hurry to change your clothes. When you have dry clothes on, you hesitate.

You think about not getting anything.

If you were such a slut, maybe you shouldn’t. Your mom thinks you’re so bad. Maybe you should get knocked up by her husband and see how she feels.

You shake your head. You shouldn’t.

You throw the car into drive, biting back a smirk as you feel his slick between your thighs still. You can’t help but stare at the shoreline where you’d lost your virginity as you pull out of the parking lot. Your head is buzzing, skin seeming hot where he’d touched you.

You’d have to decide on your way home. Should you stop at a store or not?

[eanul-rmbl]

Hypnos x reader modern au headcanon/imagine where he thinks she and zagreus are dating and it's this whole puppy princess/jessie's girl (mostly puppy princess tho; hot freaks forever, babyyyy) scenario.

what up fellow hypnos enthusiasts, i am coping ;)

wc: 500+

.

.

(Megaera ship has already long sailed and crashed.)

• When they first meet, he thinks she's cute.

• Her eyes squinted and crinkled with laughter

• She looked at so many things like they're worth the world, like they've enthralled her

• And she’s enthralled him

• After a while, he notices how she treats him

• She laughs with him, not at him

• She makes her own jokes to make him laugh, too; to cheer him up

• When he made a self-deprecating joke, she was worried for him.

• She takes him seriously

• Soon after, he grows anxious.

• He sees that she laughs with Zagreus,

• That the two of them aren't shy to touch (she punches him in laughter, friends do that kind of stuff (he doesn't realize that))

• You don't just ask two people if they're dating

• One day, he even sees them together at the place he works (they're shopping for a gift for Than (he doesn't know that))

• He feels terrible

• But then she smiles at him, jokes with him, and he finds himself soaking it all up

• By the time the two of them leave, he grinning to himself sighing

• It's tearing him apart when he feels her fingers brush against his

• He feels electrified.

• He turns to see her smiling with those squinted, crinkled eyes and that friendly (or perhaps mirthful?) expression of hers that hasn't changed

• His heart leaps, but then he sees Zagreus a little ways behind then, grinning with Thanatos, and he pulls away

• She's confused.

• She thought he liked her back,

• She felt how he'd lean ever so slightly in her direction

• She'd caught him staring at her, with a grin and a quip ready at hand

• She remembered how their fingers brushed the other day; remembered the sparks and fireworks ignited from a single touch

• Goodness, he was so precious

• His hair looked like sheep's wool

• His face was kissed in starry freckles

• His voice could lull her to sleep every night; soft as a whisper, gentle as a lullaby

• She covered her face in her hands and hair.

• She'll ask Zagreus about this later.

(She never ends up Zagreus)

• One day, Hypnos hears something about Zagreus and Thanatos dating, when he talks to Megaera about how terrible he's feeling for advice

• Megaera feels it's like it's weird to ask her, considering both her relationships (Zagreus and Hypnos) didn't work out (she's got a situationship with Dusa right now (“tf you talking about, girl? what about Dusa????” “h- what?” “what?”))

• But anyway she's all “isn't Zagreus dating Thanatos?”

• Huh.

• Huh?

• HUH???????

• When he asks Zagreus about it, it's that Hades game dialogue

• Woah. Really?

• Really.

• Woaaaah…..

• Zagreus asks about her and Hypnos

• Hypnos is all “whaaaaat? thats craaaaazy, hahaha…”

• They're talking as normal, her and him.

• Joking back and forth

• The only difference was the lack of touching; no pats on the back or shoulder, no fingers lightly brushing against each other, no coy gazes at each other

• But, this time, Hypnos lightly brushes their fingers

• She stops.

• (she’s inwardly like “hhhhhhhhhh keep it together, keepittogether!!!!!!!!!!! hhhhhĥhhhhh)

• Hes like “would you kiss the homies goonight”

• And she's like “hhhhhhhhhhwho's the homies”

• And he gives her this look

• And

• ....Yeah.. :)

[ladyhallen]

A Lovely Morning

Harry had never given any thought to art.

She’d once or twice thought about the museum tours she’d had as a preschooler in the muggle world, and then the occasional painting she would pass with the thought of, “Wow, that’s really pretty.” She hadn’t thought about making art, with words or with images, until she saw Fon under the light of dawn.

Usually, she slept until Fon woke her with sweet kisses and coaxed her to sit down. He’d comb her hair and that, along with the gentle circles he’d press on her lower back, was enough to wake her up. It was more effective than coffee and a hell lot more effective than tea.

By some sorcery, she’d woken up a scant few minutes after Fon that day. He’d gone out to do his usual calisthenics, naked save for the pair of silk trousers and slipping on his cloth slippers. Harry had wanted to roll back to bed when she’d seen the absolute lack of sunlight, but something urged her to get up.

And by Merlin, was she glad she’d gotten up.

She hadn’t ever really thought of human bodies as beautiful. She could objectively say one person had nice arms or a pretty interesting eye color. But in a magical world where anything interesting was usually because they had an inhuman ancestor, she didn’t place much value in looks. She’d seen incredibly beautiful people and knew that the stories they had were more interesting than their faces.

While Fon’s face had drawn her in, she fell in love with his calm rationality and the way he could lay out an argument without shouting.

And while she and Fon had lain with each other for upwards to two months and she’d seen him naked in the hot springs more times than she can count, seeing him exercise was different.

There was an economy to his movements. It was clean and confident, nothing wasted as he moved his limbs and his body in twists and turns. Then he did a slow upward stroke that flexed his back muscles, making her tummy clench and Harry bit back a gasp. When he folded over, hugging his knees for five seconds, Harry clutched the doorway at the way it made his ass flex.

“Good morning, Harry,” he greeted her, flipping over on a handstand with his braided hair coiled around his neck. “This is a nice surprise.”

Morgana bless him and his intense focus. He didn’t notice that she was about to faint from her face going so red. Harry was so glad.

“Good morning,” she said, not at all strangled and sounding like a normal person. She checked for drool. “I have no idea what woke me.”

He then did a move that she knew, a downward dog that was just one hundred percent showing off right now. He wasn’t even sweating!

Harry wished, very fervently, that she knew how to write poetry. Or to draw. Poems should be written about the way the faintest light of dawn brushed across Fon’s muscles. Art should be drawn about that beautiful face closed in concentration, at the play of light and dark over his cheekbones. Instead, she was stuck admiring him with no way to immortalize the moment. Harry cursed her past self for thinking of art as boring.

Unwittingly, she whispered, “Full many a glorious morning have I seen,” A quiet whisper that should not be heard, except Fon had excellent hearing.

He fell out of his pose with a blush. “Harry!” he exclaimed, flustered.

This man. Harry had heard him say the dirtiest things. She’d shared a naked bath with him. She had done a lot of unspeakable things to him and with him. Fon was unfazed and coy, the teasing man.

But recite poetry and he blushed!

Harry had to laugh. “You should see dawn’s light touch you, Fon. It almost makes me jealous, the way it caresses you,” she mused, raking her eyes over his bare torso.

Fon rushed to kiss her, shutting her up.

But Harry realized, as she clutched at his shoulders when he carried her in his arms that yes, she can write poetry. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just heartfelt. Fon clearly appreciated it.

This was how sonnets were made, she mused, exchanging sweet kisses with him. Then he lay her down and Harry forgot to think of anything at all.

[clatoera]

Picket Fence is Sharp as Knives Chapter 7: They Got No Idea About Me And You

Heyyyy Besties. Long time no see. March was rough. It's been rough. But tell a friend to tell a friend she's baaack.

Title from t swift Dress. I almost used a chappell roan lyric but I have committed so hard to the t swift bit I couldnt do it.

ao3

masterpost

It is the long awaited cashbaria chapter, featuring a scene of them during the 74th games and then a post war follow up of them! I specifically need to mention and notice my friends @bodyelectric77my go to cashbaria queen and @kentwells who has had MANY many conversations about these things with me. They write the Cashbaria that I read so please check them both out!!! I don't think @ohhowwehavefallen even uses tumblr anymore but at this point she gets tagged in any post I make ever so..hello bestie.

I am not a cashbaria writer and I hope I did them justice in this fic. It was a LOT of fun. I had wanted to get it up earlier this week for Sapphic Visibility day along with @bodyelectric77 because it's funny they have similar vibes of sapphics being blatantly visible but the people closest to them being absolutely oblivious. Thank you my friend, you're incredible, your writing inspires me.

Alright. Lets rock this bitch.

“Mmm…think they’ve noticed yet?”  

As the voice comes from behind her, Enobaria can’t help the coy smile that etches it’s way on to her face. She doesn’t even need to turn to face the source, as she is hit with the combined smell of vanilla and honey and something floral that is just uniquely Cashmere. If the scent alone weren’t enough, the flurry of blonde curls that leak over her upper arm as a familiar face rests on her shoulder, with lithe hands wrapping around her waist would be the dead giveaway that it is her girlfriend. 

Well, her girlfriend, or someone with a very creative death wish.

“Noticed what? That they’re trying to fit four people on a couch made to fit two?” Enobaria muses, bringing her hand up to rest her fingertips along Cashmere’s cheek bone. “I know Cato thinks he needs to live inside of Clove, but it’s a little nauseating to watch.”

It isn’t even Enobaria’s style, this blatant display of hands-on skin and kisses on cheeks, but it wasn’t like she was ashamed of such. It was dangerous, to give the president any further leverage to dangle above either of them. It wasn’t public and it wasn’t secret, but a third undefinable thing. The kind of thing that was open to their safest friends—Brutus, Gloss, Finnick, Johanna and such—and on a need-to-know basis with all the others.  That group of safest friends would of course include Cato and Clove, if they ever figured it out that is.

Still. They are mostly alone, doing what District Two called “mentor mentoring” but what Enobaria and Brutus so affectionately call babysitting. It was just the right time of day, when the action died down, and victors were either slipping off to self soothe (medicate) or prepare for whatever the evening presented in terms of sponsors and clientele. 

And honestly, if anyone needed babysitting to ensure they actually learned how to mentor, it was Cato and Clove.

“They’re just excited to be together!” Cashmere assured, settling into the space between Enobaria and the bar, wrapping her other arm around her to pull her fully into a hug from behind her. “They’re kids, they’re just having fun. You knowwhat I’m talking about them noticing, ‘Baria. Have they noticed this.” To emphasize, she kisses along her jawline, but keeps her eyeline trained on the four young victors loudly taunting each other on the couch. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought they were just normal teenagers, up too late and laughing loud enough that their parents would be down to yell at them at any minute. 

Unfortunately, they were not normal kids, and they were barely raised by their parents at all. They were raised by combinations of victors, trainers, and violence in various combinations. 

The four of them, practically on top of each other, mocking other teenagers as they screamed on television, was somehow as close to normal as they were ever going to be. 

Enobaria lets out a little sigh as she leans into Cashmere’s affection, before she gives a little shake of her head. “I mean it. It’s like they don’t notice anyone but each other. They probably don’t even realize they aren’t alone on the couch.”

“And they were going to go into the games together? That would have been a real PR disaster for District Two, you know.” Cashmere teases, before she slips around from behind Enobaria to the side of her, before slipping one of her legs on top of the other woman’s knees and nearly sitting right in her lap. 

“You’re telling me. It would have been an absolute nightmare. We used to think they were this perfect pair, they just understood each other so well. Yeah, it could have been hard when it came down to the final two but nothing they couldn’t handle. But then…you know, they thought they were so good at sneaking around, but they’re fucking idiots. They didn’t talk to anyone else. One was always missing from their bed. They were great together, apparently a little too great. It was a liability to send them in together. I know I was afraid of what we would pull out of that arena in whichever won.” Enobaria took the opportunity to be the one holding Cashmere now, resting her head against the blonde’s. “Sometimes I wish we had done it, though. He’s fucking infuriating. It’s gross to watch them.”

“Oh, you don’t mean that, Enobaria. They’re cute together. They’re happy, and they get to be openly happy. Unlike the rest of us. I’d kill for that. So would Finnick…and Glimmer too.”

“They don’t even know how lucky they are.” It does not need to be said what luck Enobaria was referring to. By some miracle there was never any demand for the two of them, no clients to be at the beck and call of. It was probably becauseof each other, and for that, Enobaria really was thankful for their mutual survival. 

That was not something she was prepared to explain to Clove quite yet. 

“You busy tonight?” Enobaria slides in, intentionally sliding in vague phrasing due to the risk of ever listening walls.

She feels Cashmere physically sag in her arms, practically collapsing the lines of her body to press flush against her. “The usual. The gamemakers get bored at this point in the games until things spice up.”

Enobaria tenses at the phrasing. It was clear what (and more importantly, who) was going to be spicing things up for the gamemakers tonight. She gently scratches her nails over the pale forearms she holds in her hands, drawing little swirling patterns with the very tip of her index finger. “Gloss and Glimmer too?”

“Gloss is with Finnick. Glimmer’s got the fullest schedule of all of us tonight.” Cashmere feels the coolness in her voice at the statement, and if someone didn’t know her, they may even mistake it for jealousy over her little sister’s popularity. Little did they know the layer of self-loathing that overtook Cashmere and Gloss both, anytime the schedule of Glimmer’s nightly roster of abusers was sent over.

“What’s going on with your sister and Marbles up there?” Enobaria took the opportunity to ask, cocking her head just slightly as she watches the two victors opposite Cato and Clove, and from where she’s standing, Glimmer may as well be curled up in the lap of her own fellow District One victor. “It’s like career victor inbreeding these days.  Cato and Clove…Shimmer and Sparkles up there…Finnick and crazy Cresta…”

“I’m not sure. She never told us something was happening with them. They’ve been friends for a long time. He’s sweet to her. She hasn’t told me anything specific, though, and I’m sure she would if they were together.” Cash sticks her hand out blindly to the side, grabbing the glass off the bar that Enobaria had been drinking before Cashmere slid into her arms. It’s always easier, to deal with those bored clients, with a little bit of a sedative in her system. She doesn’t even get more than a sip before she shutters, harshly reminded that District Two does not believe in mixers. Instead, she taunts Enobaria gently, “Would we be part of Victor inbreeding then, Baria?” 

“Absolutely not. We can’t actually accidentally breed. Besides. We’re not from the same district, we’re adding diversity to the Victor gene pool.” Enobaria teases in response but raises a playful eyebrow. “You think Glimmer would just...tell you? Remind me again how she found out about us?”

“Oh, Enobaria that’s not important- “

“No, I like to hear it.”

Cashmere’s eyeroll was nearly audible as she let out an annoyed sigh. “She noticed I changed my nail shape for the first time in ten years.”

“And why did you change your nails?”

Enobaria grins, watching the flush actually flood Cashmere’s neck and trail up to her face. “You know why, you aren’t being funny!”

“I know. I just like how you get all flustered about it.” Enobaria squeezes her arm playfully, before she leans up to kiss right under her ear. “And I appreciate the consideration.”

“Enobaria!” Cashmere huffs, twisting in her arms before crossing her own over her chest. “So, they didn’t notice youdon’t have your little razor nails?”

“Baby, I don’t think Clove knows you can even paint nails, let alone notices the shape.”

“You practically raised her. I remember you coming to the Capitol that one weekend when we were young and asking me how to teach her how to throw, oh it was so cute, Baria. She knows you so well, she has to notice something!” At the mention of them, nearly ten years ago, she wriggles back into Enobaria’s embrace warmly. “That’s how I knew there was some love in that scary District Two Victor shell, the notorious Enobaria asking how to teach a little girl the proper technique. Not just a little girl at training, but one you actually cared about!”

“Exactly. I spent the most time with her. You’ve been part of my life almost as long as she’d be able to remember. I’ve always been just like this.” Enobaria sighs, before she brings her hand up to run through the very end of Cash’s curls. “I actually don’t think she’s ever once considered I may actually like…yeah. I don’t think that’s crossed her mind.” 

“Mmhmm, were you kissing pretty blonde girls in your lap back in District Two?” Cash teases, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders, beyond testing the limits of how far she could go before any of those damn kids noticed. “Cato seems like he knew his way around the girls his age, you mean he never even made a comment about it?”

“Cash, you are literally on top of me, and he hasn’t noticed. He isn’t the most observant career boy you’ll ever meet. He actually was so obsessed with Clove, he wasn’t that hard to keep off other girls. I just wanted to keep him off of— and out of—Clove. Besides. I don’t think he knows that girls...can be with girls. That might break his fragile little brain.”

Cashmere throws her head back in a genuine laugh that should have pulled the attention of the whole room. Somehow, the four of them are so in their own little word they don’t even bat an eye. 

Thank God all four of them weren’t in the games together. They’d never pay enough attention to their surroundings for any single one of them to come out a winner.

“What do you mean? He doesn’t know girls can like girls?” 

“His only two modes are kill and Clove. We’re lucky he remembers to breathe. Or unlucky, depending on the day.”

“Are you going to tell them then?” Cash teases. It’s evident that Enobaria isn’t hiding anything from Clove. They are truly just not observant enough to notice anything but themselves.

As if to emphasize they are truly paying no attention to the girls in the back of the room, Clove can be heard making some snide remark as she gets off of Cato’s lap, reaching down into the fruit bowl on the glass coffee table in front of them. At the same time, they watch as Glimmer shifts to the side so Marvel climbs out from under her. He walks to one end of the room before Clove takes her hand full of something they cannot yet identify to the other. 

Enobaria and Cashmere watching in a shared sense of amusement and confusion as Clove quite literally starts throwing, with unyielding precision, something small directly into Marvel’s mouth. 

“Are those...?” Cashmere muses, tilting her head in bemusement, an inquisitive expression on her face. 

“I think they’re grapes?” Enobaria confirms.

Enobaria laughs, actually openly laughs, when Marvel lets out a sharp yelp as he gets absolutely drilled in the eye by a little green fruit. 

“Clove! What the hell, I thought you don’t miss!” Marvel whines, bringing his hand to cover his stinging left eye. 

“I don’t.” Clove reminds with a smug smirk on her face.  

Cashmere audibly sighs, burying her face in the lengths of Enobaria’s hair at her neck. “…you know what, on second thought, maybe they should figure it out themselves.” 

______________________________________________________________________

There are approximately fifty steps between Clove’s front door and Enobaria’s. Forty-four if you walked fast, sixty if you took your time. It’s not a hard path to cross, even in a District Two blizzard.

It is a miserable trek, however, when someone else’s child is screaming at you the entire walk.

“I know, I know, you miss your mother that we just saw fifteen seconds ago.” Enobaria mumbles, practically slamming her front door shut behind her the second she is fully inside. The heartbroken mumbles of ‘mama’ coming from the one-year-old, with his teary blue eyes staring at the door like his mother would walk in and rescue him at any moment, give Enobaria a sense of Déjà vu she wishes all too well she didn’t know how to place.  For all he looked like his father—and by god Cato may as well have cloned himself— there evidently was some of his mother in him, too. “I’m not going to steal you forever kid, trust me. I know you’d live inside her if you could, but unfortunately for you so would your dad.”

She kicks her shoes off, fully intending to lay on the couch for the next few hours, hoping to lull the boy to sleep until Clove would be back to collect him after…wherever the hell they were going. 

She had tried to pay attention to Clove’s plans for the night. It isn’t her fault that Clove made such a clingy little thing that cried any time he was out of her arms.

“Alright, buddy, lets just stop with the sad eyes, if you go to sleep, she’ll be back when you wake up—” When she makes that promise of a returning mother, she is at least sure a liar will not be made of her this time.

As soon as Enobaria goes to sit with him, she hears some sort of chatter elsewhere in the house. The sound of a hairdryer pairs with the voices, and immediately she knows Cash must be singing to herself or something as she does her hair.

“Oh, Aunt Cash will be so excited to see you.” She is drawn to the sound she shifts him from her shoulder to lower on her hip, his endless babbles of mama nearly blending into the background now. 

As soon as she reaches the top of her stairs, she hooks the right to the bedroom, as the sound of the dryer gets louder and louder. Smiling to herself, she nudges the door open with her foot. “Hey baby, I didn’t know you were coming home yet, I brought—”

Enobaria is stunned to silence as she is greeted by not one, not two, but three blonde girls sitting on the bathroom floor looking up at her. The baby, too, even stops his incessant babbling to stare at Cashmere and the girls.

Cash sits, with her back to the bathtub, hair dryer in her hand, and a little blonde toddler sitting cross legged on each of her knees. She flicks the dryer off with a wide smile on her face, looking up at Enobaria. 

One of the twins steals the first greeting, big green eyes blinking up at her and the sweetest little smile on her face when she sees her. She pushes off of Cashmere’s knee, to close the distance between herself and her other aunt. “Hiiiiii Aun-ie Baria! We’re visit-in your house!!” 

Enobaria softens, leaning down to scoop up the little girl with her free arm. It had become surprisingly easy to tell the twins apart once they got a little bigger, and from personality alone she knew who she was talking to at any time.

 “Hello Miss Stella,” It was always a little shocking, claiming Cashmere’s nieces as her own, and it was almost unsettling at times how much they looked like they could be Cashmere’s girls. Still, they’re sweet kids and they’re cute as hell. It is shockingly easy to love them. “How did you end up here in our other house! It’s a long way from your house…”

“Uh you told me that we were babysitting today, Enobaria.” Cashmere reminds her as if it is obvious. She shifts Aurelia to sit between her legs as she reaches over and grabs a curling iron off the tile floor beside her. 

“Yeah, Cash, I was watching him.” Enobaria nods her head towards the little blond boy, who’s resolved to resting his head on her shoulder. At least he had finally stopped crying—

and hey, she gets it, she likes to look at Cash too. “You just... brought the girls on the train and didn’t think to like... mention that?” 

“Oh, it’s not a big deal! They were excited to come see our other house, huh sunshine?” Cash waves off, before she brushes through her niece’s long baby soft hair with her fingers one time before she takes the curling iron to a small section. Aurelia sits so uncharacteristically still for a two and a half year old, clearly well trained on how to have her hair done. 

“How did you even end up with them today?” Enobaria decides her best course of action is to just join Cashmere on the floor, and kicks the door shut behind her. She presses against the wood with her back, sliding down while still holding both the toddlers in her arms without missing a beat. “aren’t they kind of little for your to be heating up their hair like that?”

“It’s the second Wednesday of the month!” She explains as if that means anything, carefully placing the hot iron out of reach before reaching for a handful of pink ribbon which she ties around the little half ponytail she makes on her niece’s head. “Don’t be silly honey, I used heat protectant on it! They like to feel pretty!”

“Does that mean something to me that it’s second Wednesday?” 

“It’s nail day, Enobaria. Second and Fourth Wednesdays are nail days. Stella, show Auntie Baria your nails!” Cashmere instructs, and Stella does stick out her little hand towards Enobaria’s face. Enobaria, to her credit, does give an appreciative glance at the incredibly tiny pink nails. “I think they’re all doing something together, Glim said she’ll be in Two anyway to pick them up tonight. Like I said, I thought we were already babysitting them, and Glimmer didn’t correct me so...”

Aurelia is the one who pushes off of Cash next, little blonde curls bouncing as she half runs across the room. She settles herself between the two children Enobaria already holds, reaching out her own little pink nails to grab the baby’s hand. “Hiiii baby.”

“Look at you, covered in career babies.” Cash teases, her hand over her heart playfully. “Come here Stells, it’s your turn.” She cocks her head as Stella does as she’s asked, and Aurelia shifts to take her place with Enobaria. “How old is he? Is he one yet?”

“Yeah, well, remember when I called it Career Victor inbreeding? This is what I meant.” Enobaria teases playfully, glancing down at the baby who was finally, somehow, done with his crying. Now, he just stared at the twins with wide blue eyes, fascinated by the shimmering gold ribbons on the middle of their dresses. “Mmm… he’ll be one I think next month. It’s soon.”

“He’s just so freaking big. He’s like... twin sized and they’re nearly three.” She mumbles, taking a few moments just to hold Stella in her lap rather than go straight for her hair.  “Oh, come on, Enobaria, at least they’re cute! They’re so worth it. And we get to give them back at the end of the day, that’s the best part.”

“Of course he’s huge, his dad is a mammoth.” Enobaria reminds, gently prying his hands off of Aurelia’s tulle skirt that he had managed to lean forward to grab. “They are pretty cute kids; I’ll give them that. Even if this one looks like his dad.”

“Poor Clove, he’s practically bigger than her. That had to hurt...” Cashmere mumbles, going back to her task of brushing through Stella’s soft hair. 

“….Cash?”

“Yeah, baby?” She replies absently, spritzing Stella’s hair before going in with the curling iron. 

“…we are watching all the kids. All their parents are alone right now.”

“Yeah, and? I think they were doing something tonight?”

“Yeah, probably each other!” Enobaria nearly hisses.

“Oh, relax Enobaria! They aren’t doing that! Aren’t they all together?”

Enobaria half whispers, glancing between the two little blond kids she held and the one in Cashmere’s lap. “They won’t be together all night. We are not watching a fourth one, Cash. I draw the line at a fourth. How did we end up watching three children who do not belong to us?” 

Cashmere tries to stifle her giggle, failing miserably as she reminds her, “we didn’t pay enough attention when babysitting their parents.”

[goroaix]

Heavenly rains submerge: the heart wilts

Lee Hoseok x Fem Reader x Lee Ten

Superhero/abilities AU. Angst and slowburn with a happy ending

Explicit gore and depictions of violence; dementia mention; self endangerment

23k as of chapter 1/3

『 One might argue that there is little difference between a hero and a civilian: bravery, hubris, perhaps loyalty. Could a Ren breathe in this foul odour, tolerate how his words - once prophetic - were now nothing more than heresay? Could a civilian listen to inaudible whispers, feel the sting of his teeth breaking skin? Did it really matter when it all bled into one? 』

A two for one deal on broccoli, or another pack of prime rib?

This was the decision currently plaguing Hoseok’s mind as he stood in the middle of the fresh meat aisle, eyes glossing over the red cuts of beef that lay on the shelf in neat patterns - the dates and times letting him know that they had been stocked less than an hour ago.

Ugh.

If he bought the broccoli, he’d be getting his vitamins in, as well as his five a day. Yet his gaze wandered back to the pristine cuts. They were lean, the fat cap minimal and it was the perfect size to last a few dinners.

Pick me, it called.

Choose me, it begged.

Love m-

“Are you okay?”

Hoseok turned his head, ears quickly becoming warm as he cleared his throat into his fist. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at his own mundane musings. “I’m fine. You?”

“You’re staring at the beef,” his friend said, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she regarded him. “In a way that’s not normal.” She added.

“Is there a normal way to stare at beef?” Came Hoseok’s quick rebuttal but, of course, he was no match for her.

“Yes, and you’re not doing that. It seems like lust.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It’s like she purposely found the most outrageous thing to say even in the most normal of situations. How could someone look at beef with lust of all things?

The scoff that escaped him came from deep within his chest, punctuated by his arms crossing over his chest. “Should you be saying these things to a customer?”

“Depends,” she replied, tapping her name tag out of habit and he read it despite himself - counting out each syllable in his head, “does the customer want discounted sirloin?”

Now she was talking, and it wasn’t nonsense for once. “You have some? I was looking earlier and I couldn’t find anything.”

Her smile was coy, not quite at its full potential but he knew exactly what she was thinking. “Not in plain sight. You know that Seojun guy?”

“The one who drank your peach tea?” Hoseok asked, vaguely recalling this name and character from one of her abundant stories about her coworkers.

“Yeah. Him”-she looked around for a moment- “he hid some to take to his family when his shift was over. But fuck those kids, you know? They don’t need three sirloins, especially not when their daddy is a thief.”

“...Right.” No matter how hard he tried to school his expression into something serious, he just couldn’t. “How much is it?

“You’re not going to tell me how immoral that is?”

“He was immoral first. Two sirloins is enough to feed the family.”

Her smile widened and held up her finger, motioning him to wait before she disappeare around a corner that was definitely not in the meat aisle. Had Seojun hidden it in another freezer section? What a cheeky man! He thought.

For a few minutes, he was left to stand there with one hand on the shopping trolley and the other on his hip. This store was one he visited frequently because of how close it was to his place, and also that he could weasel his way into various discounts using his friend’s employee status. It was also big enough that he never needed to go anywhere else after. He was all too familiar with the plain white walls and different aisles.

Then, she came back with a deliciously large slab of meat and a pretty yellow sticker that said exactly what he needed it to: reduced.

“Here you go.”

It was handed over, cradled in Hoseok’s arms before he set it down tenderly into the trolley with her watching his every move. “Thank you. I was stuck between broccoli or more meat.”

“No problem, but, um, why not just get both? The broccoli has a deal on.”

“I want to stay on budget,” he replied, shrugging and she suddenly laughed, confusing him. “What’s funny?”

“The budget fits two cuts of beef but not broccoli?”

The red on his ears returned tenfold. “I have vegetables at home.”

“Mm. That's what they all say.”

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Hoseok asked, tempted to push his trolley towards her and see if he could run it over her croc's covered feet. He decided against it. “One that doesn’t involve judging my shopping?”

“No, actually. This is customer service.” She moved to the shelves, picking up an item that was in the wrong place and moving it over. “Come here, it makes it look like I’m helping you with something.”

Hoseok obliged - but not without an eyeroll.

“How much protein do you have in a day?”

“Around 200-300g depending on the day, why? You interested in building muscle?"

“Kind of. I think my days of eating pudding for breakfast are over,” she mused, looking at the gravy sachet in her hand before putting it away.

The constant background noise of the freezers filled the air, humming quietly behind them as an elderly woman shuffled past them in the aisles. For a moment, she peered at both of them before turning away to examine the poultry. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a little sweet treat in the morning. You look pretty healthy as you are, anyway.”

“Maybe right now, but I don’t think my arteries will thank me for it in the future.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “you’re right. If you need any help with a meal plan, just let me know and I’ll help you out.”

At this, she smiled, a hand moving to the end of the trolly with her fingers wrapping around the metal hatching. “I’d ask for your workout routine, but I think I’d collapse from heart failure.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Your bicep is the size of a newborn. But, yeah, if it’s not too much trouble?”

Even if it was a little bit of trouble, Hoseok would have readily and willingly drafted out a fitness plan for her - if she asked, of course.

She let go of the trolley. “Okay, I need to go now. I can feel my manager getting pissed at me for taking too long. I’ll talk to you later?”

He nodded. “We’ll talk later. When do you finish?”

“In 5 hours. I started an hour ago.”

“They reduced your hours again?”

This time, her expression was more like a grimace than anything humorous, her nod stilted and rather annoyed. Don’t ask me about it right now, it said, and Hoseok was wise enough to heed that warning.

“Okay, bye.” He nodded his head, reversing out of the aisle with his tolley.

“Bye bye.”

And, just as he left the aisle, he saw someone approaching her, their head of shaggy black hair glistening under the phospholorescent lights and their voices falling just short of his ears.

Hoseok turned away, ready to pay for his items and get out of there.

Read the rest on AO3

[hannahmanderr]

💘 whats the Sam/Paulina ship name

okay but you're actually psychic bc I was literally already working on something that fit this perfectly so thank you for giving me an excuse to finish it hehe

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

Ardent Amethyst no. 4 (AO3)

A conversation about lipstick ends far more differently than Sam could've expected.

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

If Sam could just wear her normal makeup to school, she wouldn’t have even had this problem in the first place.

“But noooo,” she grumbled as she twisted the cap back onto her eyeliner. “Dad’s running for city council, and how dare his daughter be seen in public wearing anything that’s not cookie-cutter perfect little white girl.”

She didn’t mind that he was campaigning, if only because it gave her an excuse and a leg up in trying to help get some better legislation passed in town, but her mom forcing her to ‘always look the part’ was beginning to get tiresome.

“It’s Amity Park. It’s not like he’s running for president.” She tossed the eyeliner back into her makeup bag and pulled out her lipstick. This one was a darker purple than her usual, close to an eggplant color instead of a lavender, but it was quickly becoming her favorite. A name that referenced her favorite gemstone was almost enough to automatically win her over.

Plus it was dark. Which meant it would piss off her mom even more. Always a bonus.

She leaned over the bathroom sink to bring her reflection closer. The girls’ bathroom in the science wing definitely wasn’t her first choice of staging area, but this one had pretty decent lighting, plus the added bonus of it being out of the way enough that she wasn’t constantly being bothered by other girls bustling in and out and gossiping and trying to do their own makeup.

Yep. Peaceful. Just the way she liked it.

Carefully, she began rubbing the lipstick on. It was an art that had taken her months to perfect, but she had it down pat by this point. 

If there was one thing she could agree on with the A-list girls, it was the beauty and fun of putting makeup on. If only they had any sense of individuality to go along with it.

She rubbed her lips together to try and cover any bare or uneven spots, but the job had already been done very well, if she did say so herself. 

A thought occurred to her as she examined her reflection. Danny had complimented this color the other day. Did that mean he liked it better than the old one? Should she keep wearing this one more? Would it catch his attention, or would he be his normal, clueless self? Could she -

The door to the bathroom banged open, and she flinched. Something in her chest seized up as Paulina of all people rounded the corner. Of course she would come and ruin a decent makeup session. It just had to be her of all people.

Odd that she wasn’t with her posse though. She’d always been under the impression that the popular girls moved to and from the bathrooms like the pack of hyenas they were.

She fumbled with her makeup bag. No sense sharing the same room with a girl like Paulina for longer than necessary. She’d pretty much finished anyway.

“What’s the rush?”

Sam whipped her head around. Paulina stood behind her, hands on her hips, wearing a coy smirk. The kind of pose that just screamed “I’m better than you and I know it.”

It made her blood light on fire.

“I was just wrapping up,” she said, pouring as much ice into her words as she physically could. “Figured it’d be rude of me to intrude on the queen bee’s oh-so-important bathroom time.”

The smirk stayed glued to Paulina’s face. “Well it’s nice to finally hear you recognizing my status. Were you doing your makeup just now?” She nodded at the makeup bag in Sam’s grip.

“No, Paulina, I thought I’d just come in and stand here holding a bag full of hot air for a little while. Not that you don’t already do a good enough job of it.”

That finally made Paulina’s lips turn down, and Sam resisted the urge to grin in triumph. Paulina sighed. “So rude. And here I was about to tell you how pretty of a color that is.”

Okay. That was unexpected. “Really?”

“Yeah.” The other girl started stalking towards her, slow and catlike. “I was gonna ask if I could get a little bit of it.”

Sam’s alarm bells started ringing, and her heart began to pump a little faster as she tried to back away from Paulina only to be met by the sink. “Then you can get your own,” she snapped, trying to keep any indication of intimidation out of her voice. She would not back down from Paulina like this. Just because she was bracing her arms on the sink and leaning backwards over it didn’t mean she was backing down.

“I don’t think you get it. I want to try it now.”

“What do you - mmph!” Sam’s words were cut short as Paulina leaned into her and connected their lips together. For a moment, she could only stand there, frozen, as Paulina kissed her in the middle of the school bathroom.

Finally, her senses came back to her. Sam shoved the other girl off her. “What the hell was that?” she growled, but the effect was ruined by her breathlessness.

Paulina ignored her, instead checking out her own reflection in the mirror. The corners of her now purple-tinted lips curled upward. “What do you know? It is a good color on me too.” 

Without another word, she sauntered out of the bathroom, leaving a speechless Sam standing alone.

She blinked once, twice before turning to see where her lipstick had rubbed off on Paulina. Finally, she managed to break herself out of her stupor enough to grab a paper towel and wet it.

She wiped at her lips vigorously, quickly staining the wet towel purple. Hopefully Danny would still like her old lavender color, because she would never be able to wear this one again without wanting to throw up. A shame too. She’d really liked this color.

And honestly, it hadn’t looked half bad on Paulina either.

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

Tiffanie pounced on Paulina the moment she emerged back into the hallway. “So?” she asked, practically bouncing up and down. “Did you do it? Did she hate it?”

Paulina shook her head to try and break herself out of her haze. “Huh? Oh. Yeah, I did it.”

“OMG, yes!” Tiffanie squealed. “That ought to knock her down a few pegs! And the best part is she can’t tell anyone! Who’s gonna believe her when she tells people you kissed her, one of the biggest freaks in school?”

Something in Paulina’s heart wrenched sideways, but she couldn’t put words to it. 

It wasn’t pleasant.

Tiffanie dug in her bag. “Here.” She offered Paulina a ten dollar bill. “You’ve way more than earned this, girl.”

Paulina stared at the cash for a long moment, trying to figure out why her stomach wouldn’t quit doing acrobatics. A little voice in the back of her head was pestering her, telling her something wasn’t right about all this.

And why did it feel like her heart was reaching out for something it couldn’t grasp?

Finally, she shook her head. “Keep it,” she said, gently pushing Tiffanie’s hand away and laughing weakly. “Taking down a - a loser like her is reward enough, you know?”

“True that! You sure though? I told you I’d give it to you if you did. I really don’t mind.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.” Paulina tried to shoot her with the same smile that melted the heart of just about every boy in school. “I already got what I wanted.”

Tiffanie just shrugged. “If you say so. Oh, by the way,” she said, putting the money back in her bag and digging for something else. She pulled a tissue out. “Here. You still have a little freak on you, if you catch my drift.”

“... Oh. Right.” Paulina gingerly took the tissue and, with Tiffanie watching her, gently dabbed the purple lipstick off of her mouth. 

Satisfied, Tiffanie nodded and began to walk off. “Star and Ashley are gonna love hearing about this. Shame though. That really wasn’t a half-bad color for you,” she said, still half-laughing to herself.

Paulina followed close behind, unable to tear her eyes from the purple imprints on the tissue. Carefully, making sure Tiffanie couldn’t see, she folded the tissue neatly and put it in her pocket.

Maybe she’d hang on to it just a little longer.

[madsworld15]

Part 4 of my Asexual Spectrum AU fic (QAF)

January

Over the next few weeks, Justin only saw Brian at the diner a handful of times. Each time they avoided each other like the plague. Of course, Justin tried to avoid going out, considering they shared a mutual friend in Emmett. But Emmett wouldn’t hear anything of it and forced Justin to participate in trips to Woody’s or Babylon. Justin needn’t have worried, though. Brian was never there when Justin did go.

About fifteen days after their kiss – no, Justin was not counting – Emmett came into the diner during one of Justin’s rare breakfast shifts. He was all smiles and bouncing with excitement. He clapped his hands as he sat down at the counter and ordered two donuts.

“What are you doing this afternoon?” Emmett’s tone was full of wonder and sunshine. Justin grinned at his new friend and shook his head.

“Do I want to know what you have up your sleeve?” The blonde raised one of his eyebrows and placed a plate with the donuts down in front of the slightly older man.

Emmett’s ensemble today teetered on the edge of being too loud. He had on a tight, hot pink long-sleeved number and a pair of pink floral pants to match. 

“A lady never reveals her secrets.” Emmett gave a coy smile and winked. He cut a piece of the donut and pierced it with his fork before he continued. “Actually, the Gay and Lesbian Center is having a fundraiser planning meeting this afternoon. They want to do an art show next month, and I figured you’re gay and an artist, so you are perfect to participate in the committee.”

“An art show? Are they still looking for artist participation?” Justin asked, wholly intrigued now.

“No idea,” Emmett tapped his pointer finger on the counter and added, “But you can ask them at the meeting this afternoon.”

Justin rolled his eyes and then agreed to attend the meeting alongside Emmett. If Emmett wasn’t so wholesome and sweet with a wicked sense of humor, Justin doubted the man would be able to get Justin to do half the things he did.

A few hours later, Justin walked down Liberty Avenue in the opposite direction than he normally went. As he walked, he pulled a navy cable knit sweater over the t-shirt he’d worn all morning at the diner. He didn’t want to arrive at this meeting looking gross and disheveled. After all, he’d been raised to always present his best self, especially when doing volunteer work. Upon arriving at the GLC, he immediately spotted Emmett and Ted. The two were talking to a couple of women he didn’t recognize. One was petite with short reddish brown hair, while the other was a bit taller with gorgeous blonde hair just past her shoulders. The blonde woman was holding an infant in her arms. 

Justin approached the group with a smile. 

“Hey, Em. Ted.” He nodded and gave each man a small wave.

“Oh! Justin! You have to meet Melanie and Lindsay. They are friends of ours who just had a baby a few months ago. Which is why you’ve never seen them before.” Emmett excitedly introduced the petite woman and then the blonde.

“That, and we don’t go to Woody’s or Babylon. And we rarely eat at the diner.” The petite one, Mel said with a snark that could rival Brian’s. Justin shook the thought of the other man out of his head.

“Oh, Justin, you must be the artist Emmett keeps gushing to me about. He said you were a bit shy about your work, so he wasn’t sure if you’d come to help out.” The blonde turned so Justin could see her more clearly. When she did, he noticed the baby in her arms.

“OH! You are Gus’ moms! I met him a few weeks ago at the diner. Debbie was holding him while Brian did some work.” Justin cooed at the baby and gave him some smiles to see if he would respond.

“Brian had Gus at the diner?!” Mel asked; she looked about ready to spit fire. “Why did Brian have Gus, Lindsay?”

“It was the weekend you went to Miami, and I had to work. I distinctly remember telling you about it.” Lindsay appeared unfazed by Mel’s reaction.

Justin bit his lip and cowered back a bit. He hadn’t meant to cause a problem. Just as he was beating himself up for opening his mouth at all, Lindsay turned to him with kind eyes.

“I’m so glad you’ve met Gus already. Isn’t he just the sweetest?” 

“I honestly don’t know.” Justin chuckled. “He’s a baby. I only saw him for a brief moment.”

“Well, trust me, he is.” Lindsay smiled, and for some reason, much like with Debbie, Justin felt safe.

“So, tell me more about the art that you do.” Lindsay officially switched gears, and Justin let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“I do a lot of sketching and still life right now. Occasionally I experiment with colors and brush strokes on bigger canvas’. But that’s only when I can afford them.” Justin loved talking about his art. Soon he and Lindsay delved into a conversation about the merits of lead pencil vs. charcoal when making sketches and still lifes.

He hadn’t felt this invigorated by art in a very long time. Sure, his classes were great, teaching him a lot about the history of art forms and allowing him to explore the various classic forms. But he hadn’t felt truly inspired in months. Not since his father put the axe down, forcing Justin to prioritize surviving over creating.

“What year are you in school?” Mel asked, having calmed down from her previous Brian-related ire.

“I’m a freshman at PIFA,” Justin replied with his signature smile.

“Wow. That’s impressive.”

“My father wanted me to go to Dartmouth, but I chose PIFA. So, he cut me off. Well, that and the whole gay thing.” Justin shrugged. Over the last few months, he’d become more comfortable admitting his parents' shortcomings. The people who frequented Liberty Avenue understood and never judged.

“What about your mother? Does she support your artistic aspirations?” Lindsay asked, gazing down at Gus.

“She does, but she also doesn’t know how she feels about me being gay. So, she sticks by my father.”

“Well, they are both missing out on a wonderful person.” Emmett cut in with his own two cents. It was something he said to Justin anytime the teen got a bit wistful about his parents.

“Hanging out with Emmett and the gang, I’m sure you’ve managed to meet half of gay Pittsburgh by now.” Mel chuckled and took Gus from Lindsay.

Justin just laughed and shook his head while Emmett laughed and responded.

“Not hardly. I’m lucky if I can drag this kid out of his apartment more than one time a week. At Woody’s, he nurses like 2 drinks over the span of a few hours and never pays attention to any of the guys cruising him. IF I can manage to convince him to join us at Babylon, he dances but goes home alone.”

“I’m just not focused on casual sex. It creates a mess and hurt feelings, which I don’t have time for.” Justin shrugged off Emmett’s pointed look.

“I still don’t believe you. I think you secretly have a boyfriend that you aren’t telling us about. No 18-year-old can pass up sex as much as you do.” Emmett pulled Justin under his arm and squeezed him close.

“I’m just not interested.” Justin shrugged and made a point to pay attention to the two people at the front of the room who had finally stood up to get everyone’s attention.

The subject was dropped, but Justin knew he needed to come up with something better to say soon, or else it would lead to more questions. Emmett was fine with Justin being who he was and not participating in the scene, but at what point will others bother him about it? Maybe saying I have a boyfriend isn’t such a bad idea.

By the end of the meeting, Justin had put his name down to provide a handful of artwork pieces for the fundraiser. He was excited for more people to see some of the work he’d been honing since starting at PIFA. However, his excitement was nothing on Emmett’s. The whole walk back to Justin’s apartment Emmett was stopping random people on the sidewalk to tell them his friend was going to be featured in an art show. Most people would’ve been embarrassed, but Justin loved it. It showed him that someone besides himself cared about his creativity.

*****

February

The day before the GLC Art Show, Justin emailed his teachers, letting them know he was sick and wouldn’t be able to attend classes. It was a Friday, so he only had 2 classes to worry about, and both of them were practicals versus lectures. He had already gotten Friday and Saturday off at the diner; it would be tight for a couple of weeks because of it. But this art show meant the world to him.

Daphne even staved off her classes for the day so she could help him set up his art at the gallery. He had five pieces that he’d submitted for review, and they had all been approved. The first was a sketch he’d done of the diner during a graveyard shift; at the counter was an exhausted Debbie leaning on her hand, her elbow propping her up. The next piece was a charcoal of his little sister Molly dancing in her summer recital, the last event he’d been allowed to go to as part of his family. There were also two still lifes that Justin had drawn of the coffee pots at the diner and the display of cereal boxes above them. 

Finally, the one drawing in his collection that he was most nervous about, the one that he was sure would reveal his innermost emotions. It depicted a moment from a few weeks ago when Brian had been at the diner late at night with Gus, the night they had kissed for the first time. Justin had been such a mess after that he’d gone home and immediately drawn Brian at the counter feeding Gus. He managed to capture every detail, from Brian’s tired but loving gaze down to the worn look of the diner counter and stools. At first, Justin hadn’t wanted to put it in the show, not wanting to part with it, but then he decided that this drawing, most of all, spoke of who he was now.

They were almost done framing each piece when Lindsay showed up to volunteer. She had Gus with her in his carrier. He was decked out in a cute pair of baby overalls and a green plaid underneath. On his feet were the cutest pair of tan boots Justin had ever seen. For all he knew about babies, Justin was quickly becoming enamored with this one. He was such a calm, quiet child and loved all the attention everyone gave him. Justin knew the moment Daphne flipped over the drawing of Brian because he heard Lindsay gasp.

“Oh, Justin! It’s beautiful.” She held the frame in her hands, studying it. Her eyes stopped on Brian long enough for Justin to realize that she, too, like everyone else, was enamored with the man. It was more than just looking at the man who made having a child possible. No, Lindsay was in love with him.

“Thank you.” Justin stood up from where he’d been squatting to entertain Gus, “That night was…interesting.” 

He shared a glance with Daphne, who imperceptively shook her head. She was right. It wasn’t the time to divulge that particular secret. 

“I’m sure seeing Brian take care of a baby was entertaining, to say the least.” Lindsay chuckled and then handed the framed drawing back to Daphne. The two friends hugged Lindsay goodbye, and the older woman went over the see what she could do to assist some of the other artists.

Once she was out of earshot, Daphne let out the breath she had apparently been holding. “Justin, you can’t tell her about what happened that night. Especially considering you haven’t even spoken to Brian about it yet.”

“I wasn’t going to. I barely know her. Honestly, the most I was going to say was Brian was great with Gus from what I saw.” Justin rolled his eyes at his oldest friend. Honestly, does she really think that I’m going to talk about the kiss with a practical stranger?

“Anyway, I told Emmett I would meet him for lunch at that taco shop a few blocks away. You wanna join us?” Justin hung the last of his art on the wall and gave Daphne a look.

“Nah. I should go back to the apartment and study for my chem final.” Daphne gave Justin a hug.

“Oh, please. We both know you are going to IM that cute guy from your lab. What was his name? Eric?” Justin playfully jabbed at Daphne, and she reciprocated by putting her arm around his shoulder and pulling him against her.

“Derek? And, no. I won’t be IMing him.” Daphne gave a devilish grin and left the GLC. Justin knew she had been lying, but he didn’t care. It was great to see her this happy. She’d given up a lot in the past few months to make sure Justin felt safe and secure.

He walked the few blocks to meet Emmett in silence. His mind wandered back to that night five weeks ago. He had definitely enjoyed kissing Brian. It had electrified him in a way he wasn’t used to feeling. If Justin were being honest with himself, he’d admit that he wanted to do it again. But he also knew that Brian was probably the most promiscuous person he knew. It wasn’t fair to him, and it definitely wasn’t fair to Brian to pursue whatever it was that was happening between them.

Justin arrived at the taco shop to find that Emmett was already there and snacking away on a couple of fish tacos. Justin approached the counter and ordered a couple of chicken ones for himself. Once the man on the other side handed him the food, he went and sat down next to Emmett. 

“Hey, Em. How’s work going?” Justin asked with a smile before taking a bite of his taco.

“It’s going. People are still buying the tackiest of clothes. The biggest tragedy is that I have to ignore it completely and sell the items to them.” Emmett waved his hands around in emphasis.

“I would not like to have your job. Dealing with impatient, rude queens at the diner is bad enough.”

“Speaking of bitchy queens.” Emmett started a mischievous glint in his eyes. Justin gulped. He knew exactly where this was going.

“I have no idea what you mean.” He responded evasively.

“Oh, honey. Everyone on Liberty Avenue who has eyes can see it.” Emmett began. He turned and forced Justin to do the same so that they were looking into each other’s eyes. “For months now, I have kept my mouth shut, but it’s killing me, so I have to ask. What the hell is going on with you and Brian? Is he why you avoid every opportunity I throw your way to have sex with randoms?”

Justin finished his first taco and was well into his second one before he found the right words to say in response. Luckily, Emmett backed off and gave him the chance to collect himself.

“First of all, I’m not interested in sex. That’s why I won’t take any of the guys you suggest home with me. I legitimately don’t care one way or the other.” Justin took a deep breath and paused before he continued. 

“Secondly, there is nothing going on between me and Brian. We are on complete opposite ends of the gay experience spectrum, and besides, he annoys the shit out of me.”

“Bullshit!” Emmett exclaimed immediately after Justin stopped talking. “Not about the sex; we can come back to that part. I mean about you and Brian.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint.” Justin started, but Emmett cut him off.

“I have known that man for many years now. He never shows an interest in anyone unless they are practically begging him to have sex with them right there. Brian Kinney is a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type. And yet, with you…” Emmett trailed off. Justin could tell his friend didn’t quite have the words to explain it.

“It’s like when my Uncle Mel was raising cattle. Every new calf born, once they were weaned, he immediately put it to pasture to mature and grow enough to sell it for a profit. That is until one of the calves had trouble being born. Then, my uncle, well, he started to care about that little guy, and so when it was strong enough and should’ve been sent out to pasture, my Uncle Mel refused.” Emmett looked expectantly at Justin, but the blonde was even more lost than before.

“Did you just liken me to a cow?” Justin stared at the Southern queen.

“You missed the point entirely.” Emmett jumped up dramatically, went over to the counter to order another taco, and then came back in a huff. “I meant that Brian doesn’t get attached. Ever. Half the time, I’m certain he doesn’t even like me or Ted. But you’re different.”

“I don’t know what you’re seeing, Emmett, but the Brian I see is a conceited, selfish prick.” Justin avoided the obvious times Brian hadn’t been a dick.

“Then explain what happened that night at Babylon? Or the fact that he was nice to you that one day at the diner, and you freaked out. Brian followed you. When he came back, he said it was because he needed to change his order, but I wasn’t born yesterday, and I’m not an idiot.” 

Justin didn’t respond. Instead, he stared at his hands and avoided Emmett’s piercing, all-knowing eyes.

“And don’t tell me there isn’t something going on. For the last five weeks, Brian has refused to join us at the diner. He claims it’s because he’s busy at work. But, on the nights I mention you are coming with me to Woody’s or Babylon, he avoids those places too.” Emmett grabbed Justin’s hands in his, forcing the blonde to look up. “Spill.”

Justin sighed. He knew he wasn’t going to get out of this uncomfortable situation. “Fine, a few weeks ago, Brian came into the diner while he was on Gus duty. He had brought some work along with him, and I helped him with the ad he couldn’t figure out.” The teen paused only to have Emmett motion him to continue. The man was rapt with attention, hanging onto Justin’s every word.

“He was still there when my shift ended. I was trying to leave with Daphne when he stopped me outside on the sidewalk. We talked briefly, and then he kissed me.” Justin shrugged. To him, this wasn’t earth-shattering, but to Emmett, it was as if Christmas had come early.

“Are you kidding me?! Baby! This is huge.”

“Huh? It was just a kiss.” Justin shrugged.

“Brian only kisses people, who aren’t Michael, when he’s having sex with them.” Emmett replied, then quickly added, “Don’t ask me how I know this.”

Justin snorted. “Well, we definitely weren’t having sex.”

“Exactly my point. Brian kissed you despite not having sex with you. AND he protected you at Babylon that one night.”

Justin still couldn’t see how any of this news was worthy of a ticker tape parade, as Emmett seemed to be making it.

“Sunshine. Brian must care about you. If he’s going around trying to save you from unwanted advances and kissing you. This is huge. Just trust me.”

“That’s nice. It doesn’t mean anything to me. I’m still not interested in having sex. And Brian isn’t interested in being, in his words, some married couple.” Justin got up to throw out his trash.

Emmett followed him, and the two friends started to walk back toward the GLC. They moved in companionable silence until they were halfway there. Then Emmett finally spoke up. His voice was serious.

“Joking aside, Brian has walls up because of his family. He doesn’t put those walls down for anyone. But something tells me that right before he kissed you, he gave you a peak inside. You need to talk to him. Give him a chance.”

“I can’t,” Justin admitted with a sad sigh.

“Why not?”

“Because I may never be interested in sex, and his whole identity centers on it. We would never work.”

Emmett reached out and stopped Justin in his tracks. He urged the blonde to turn and face him completely before he spoke once more.

“Talk to him. I know Debbie and Ted make him out to be completely unreasonable. But I know underneath his defense mechanisms beats the heart of a man who just wants to be understood. I’m just saying, give him a chance.”

Justin nodded, and the two set off toward the GLC once more.

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Seven: Beginning of the End

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: language, Mickey being a dick, (again, shocker) a little angst, a little fluff, phone call, (yes it’s a warning) confession of feelings.

The smut is COMING I PROMISE! We’re getting there, just slowly. As I’ve said before I’m putting a lot into this fic and for it to work out the way it’s going to, there’s a fuck ton of twists and turns. But we are progressing I swear. Mickey is really going to ruin Dahlia (in more ways than one)

Thank you to the wonderful @bisexual-horror-fan for beta and editing this for me! I love how much you love them and see just so fucking awesome at helping me bring the fic to live. Love and appreciate you so so much dude!!!

@lizey-thornberry as you wanted to be tagged :)

As it turns out, Mickey was right. Things couldn’t just go back to normal after I made the stupid and monumental decision to kiss him. I don’t know why I thought that they would, or could. Maybe because I never had before, I hadn’t realized the impact the small action of pressing my lips to his would have, the ripple effect it would cause outward like throwing a stone into a pond.

Talking about it with Sidney in my dorm room the next day like we were a couple of fourteen-year-olds, I was met with a reaction I hadn’t expected. The words, “I kissed Mickey” left my lips, and then I felt her warm arms throw themselves around my neck as she pulled me to her, taking me a little by surprise. Sid was very similar to me in some ways, not huge on casual physical contact, but I suppose being with Derek was beginning to coax her into it. The change wasn’t unwelcome. Happiness looks good on Sidney, she looks best with a smile on her face and warm in her eyes.

I laughed, a little surprised, moving my hands to rest on her back as she pulled away, her infectious grin lighting up her face, “Look at you!” She said, dropping her arms back to her side, the beginning of the question slips out quickly, “Was that your first-“

I respond even quicker, “Yeah, it was. I mean, I don’t think Paul Miller in the fifth grade really counts.” I said with a nearly coy smile.

“Oh no, I saw that “kiss,” it definitely does not count. So what made you do it?” She pressed, pulling her legs up to sit crossed legged on my bed. I had no morning classes, so Mickey hadn’t met me with his usual coffee and a bagel, and for a brief moment I had a passing thought of how weird that was, he didn’t know my schedule that well. I did have a class twenty minutes from then, but I knew he had his film class with Randy at the same time. The thought abandoned me as I sat with Sid, blushing furiously as I recounted the experience.

“I don’t know, I mean, I guess it just felt right?” I looked down at my hands, twisting one of the rings on my fingers around and around as I spoke, “He was just being so… Mickey. But not in the way I’m used to. He was asking me if I’d ever look at him in a romantic kind of way. I guess I realized that I was starting to look at him like that, so I kissed him.” I shook my head, loose hair cascading around my shoulders as I did so, groaning a little, “It was stupid, right? I’m not ready!”

“Dahlia, you won’t know till you try.” Sidney’s friendly brown eyes looked at me as her hand found mine with a reassuring squeeze, she offered up in a show of comfort, “Maybe someone like him is exactly what you need right now?”

I furrowed my eyebrows at her, my head tilting a little to the side as I asked, “What do you mean?”

Sid hesitated for a moment, teeth sinking into her bottom lip before she let out a small sigh and answered me, “You’ve been through a lot, D. I know you’re only just getting back to your old self, but you have to admit, he’s been a big part of that,”

I opened my mouth to object, but she shook her head at me once, making me immediately clamp my lips together when I took in her serious expression, “You can’t deny it, we’ve all noticed it. When you’re around him, you get the light in your eyes we haven’t seen in, God, forever!” Sidney’s hands squeezed mine again as she bent her head down to catch my eye, “Would trying it really be the worst thing in the world?”

“I-“ I mouthed words, but nothing came out as my brain churned.

Would it?

There was no denying I was attracted to him, but so was half the student fucking body. He’d also fucked half of that same half of the student body, and I knew myself well enough to know I didn’t just want to be another notch in his bedpost. I had no idea if he really cared about me, or if this whole thing was just another game to him. I didn’t want to be a toy, I didn’t want to just be viewed as something for fun, to be played with and then be discarded when he was done.

I thought of the way he looked at me, friends didn’t look at friends like that. It was like he knew me, more than I knew him. He looked at me as if I was something to fucking eat, and it was almost too intoxicating.

I thought of the way his lips felt on mine, how right it felt, how he tasted and smelled, how his fingers dug into my hips and traced my spine. It felt so right, but there was something else behind it. A kind of urgency that at that moment I could quite put my finger on.

“All of this is moot if you don’t like him.” Sidney interrupted my train of thought, making me blink a couple of times and glance up at her. She was standing in front of me, I didn’t even notice her hands let go of mine or her standing up and putting her jacket on, “Just think about it, alright?”

I nodded my head, and she smiled down at me before giving a goodbye, a casual wave over her shoulder upon her exiting my dorm room, leaving me sat crossed legged on my bed staring at the door long after it clicked shut.

She was right, when was she not? I knew I liked him. But I had no idea if he liked me.

Fuck, I felt like I was in middle school all over again.

I groaned, falling back against my pillow and placing my arms across my face, squeezing my eyes until I saw spots behind my lids.

Then my phone rang.

I sighed, pulling my arms from my face and grabbing my shitty cell from my bedside table and flipping it open without looking at the name with a, “Hello?”

No answer, just the subtle, quiet sound of breathing at the end of the line.

I frowned, pulling the phone from my ear and glancing at the name.

Unknown Caller.

I pressed the phone back to my ear, propping up and asking more clearly, “Hello?”

The line went dead.

“Weird.” I muttered, tossing the phone back on the bedside table, forcing myself to stand up to start making my way to class.

The phone rang again, making me jump with a small gasp as I hesitantly picked it up.

I felt relieved as I saw Mickey’s name lighting up the small screen, answering him happily enough with, “I told you I don’t like getting calls.”

“Well, hello to you too, Dahl.” I could tell he had a smile on his face judging by his tone, and I couldn’t help one from spreading across mine, “What are you doing right now?”

I glanced at my watch before responding, “I’ve got class.”

His voice came through the receiver undeniably tinged with mirth, “Wanna ditch? Or are you too scared?”

He sounded so teasing, as if the words themselves were curling inside my ears, beckoning me to come out, and play. I rolled my eyes, scoffing slightly as I defend myself. “Christ, how much of a square do you think I am?”

Next he was explaining his line of thinking, “Sorry, I automatically assume you're a prude when it comes to your education as well as your lack of sex life.”

“Ouch.” I laughed, not even really feeling slightly hurt by his taunting comment. That was just the kind of guy he was.

“But seriously, I think we have stuff we need to talk about. Meet me outside your building?”

Fuck, he wanted to initiate that conversation? That, I didn’t expect.

I mumbled something about being down in a few minutes before hanging up, looking in my absent roommates floor length mirror and quickly combing my hair with my fingers, thanking the lord I had washed it last night, quickly tying a bandana around my head.

Passable, I decided with a shrug.

I quickly locked my door behind me as I left, leaving the building, and there he was, looking unfairly attractive but dressed, so simply, it made me want to bite his head off. Did the fucker know how good he looked without even trying? It’s maddening.

“Hey.” He remarked with a smile, his less than subtle once over not going amiss.

“Hi.” I suddenly felt shy, diverting my eyes down to the ground. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d basically thrown myself at this guy yesterday, and now I couldn’t even look him in the eye?

He said as much, eyebrows arching slightly as he asked, “You good? Feeling a little shy, are we?” His tone was teasing yet again, and I scoffed, forcing myself to meet his eye.

“No. Shut up, why am I ditching class?” I quickly changed the subject, maintaining casual eye contact. Well, as casual as I could muster without giving into the fact that all I wanted to do was kiss his stupid fucking lips again.

He seemed to already know that, a smile making the corners of his mouth tug up at my very obvious attempt to divert the conversation, “I want to take you somewhere.” He spoke lightly, holding his hand out for me to take.

I looked down at his outreached hand blankly, my own eyebrows raising a fraction as I asked hesitantly, “Where, exactly?”

He sighs with a nod, “Ah right, you don’t do ominous, I forgot.”

Fucking asshole.

“Library. It’s pretty dead right now because almost everyone has class around this time, so we can talk there.” His hand reached down and grabbed mine as he spoke, intertwining our fingers together, and I felt that jolt of electricity spark the moment we made contact. I tried not to show it, act like the sensation didn’t claw its way up my arm, shoot through my bloodstream and settle in my chest.

Was I crazy? Did he feel it too?

He tugged me alongside him, his winning smile lighting up his face. God, he was beautiful. I couldn’t help but look up at him as I walked alongside him.

His eyes were still bright as ever, with somewhat of a wicked gleam lurking below the deep surface of his light brown irises, and they just looked so… Inviting. He glanced down at me for a moment, his eyebrows raising a hair as he took in my clearly admiring expression. “What?” He asked with a laugh as we neared the entrance of the library. I tore my eyes away, looking at the double doors in front of me instead as I muttered, “Nothing, nothing.”

With another chuckle, he pushed the doors of the library open with one hand, still gripping mine in the other as he hauled me along with him between one of the many stacks of books and shelves.

I loved libraries. The smell of the old books and crisp paper, how quiet it was. It was like an escape, one you actively want to lose yourself in the same way you can and do lose yourself in the pages of a book.

Mickey’s hand released mine as he sat down, crossing his legs and leaning against the back wall between the stacks, gesturing next to him for me to sit down. I obliged, settling down beside him and resting my hands in my lap. He was right, of course. It was deserted, not a student, a professor or even the librarian in sight. It was quiet, comforting. I could only hear Mickey’s light breathing beside me before he spoke, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

“You want to talk about yesterday?”

I shrugged my shoulders timidly, not wanting to meet his gaze that I knew was concentrated on my face.

“Do you?” I asked, keeping my voice as soft and quiet as his was.

“I do. You took me a little by surprise, didn’t know you had it in you. You don’t seem like that kind of person who just-“

“I’m not shy or anything.” I interrupted him, suddenly feeling a little defensive, “It was stupid, I know. But honestly? I’m not upset I did it.” I made myself look at him, watching as his expression shifted to one of subtle surprise as he asked in mild disbelief, “You’re not?”

I shook my head, moving my arm to prop my elbow on my knees, so I could rest my face in my hand as I looked up at him, “I’m not. I know that may come as a surprise to you because you see me as shy, but I thought about it a lot last night, and I’m glad I did it.”

He was quiet for a moment, this time him dragging his gaze from me to stare blankly at the wall far ahead of him. His full lips pursed slightly, clearly deep in thought, before he asked, “Why?”

“Why am I glad?” He nodded once, still not looking at me. I knew how I felt, I knew I had to tell him. I’d spent too long as an emotionless zombie and just surviving rather than living. As both Sidney and Randy had pointed out, he was the only person that’s been able to reignite the fire I used to have, to make me feel like a person again. I couldn’t deny I had feelings for him, that was pointless. I was sick of playing pretend, acting like I didn’t. What was the use in pretending like I just wanted him to be a friend?

I knew there was always the chance he didn’t feel the same way, but it really didn’t bother me. I had to do what I never did and just shoot my shot because I knew that if I didn’t, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. In hindsight, maybe it would have been better for me if I just kept my mouth shut. But alas, I opened my mouth and said it. Six words that were going to change the trajectory of literally everything.

“Because I have feelings for you.”

There was no taking them back once it was all out there. This head practically snapped in my direction as soon as the words were out of my mouth and his jaw seemed to relax slightly, his eyes boring into my face.

“Feelings? Come on, Dahl.” He didn’t say it in a rude or snarky kind of way. His tone was off slightly however, a slight edge to the words as though it was almost a warning.

I ignored the hidden tone, dropping my hand from my face and turning to face him properly, looking him dead in the eyes. “I’m not the kind of person who throws myself at people, but you… You’re just…” I couldn’t find the words as I watched his expression soften, the hard brown in his eyes switching to something I could only describe as melting chocolate. I felt his hand gently touch my cheek and I leaned into it slightly, eyes fluttering closed.

“Feelings.” He whispered it, so quietly I wasn’t even sure he’d really said it, as if he can’t believe it. He must have known there was something going on here, but this was not what he’d been expecting, clearly.

My eyes stayed closed as I felt his lips gently brush mine, soft as a feather and just so… Careful. Like he was afraid he’d break me.

I hummed, light, an involuntary reaction without a melody as I felt his lips against mine a little more firmly before he pulled back, making my eyes open and look at him confused.

“You can’t have feelings for me.” He sounded sad and his face completely gave him away. He looked tormented by something in his own head, his head shaking from side to side, “You were right with what you said last night. You don’t know me.”

“But I know enough.” I insisted.

He laughed a humourless laugh, his hand moving to run across his hair as he continued shaking his head, “You really don’t, Dahlia. If you did, there's no way you’d have feelings for me.” He said the word feelings as though it disgusted him.

Fuck, this guy switched up fast. I decided to match his energy.

“What the fuck is your problem, Mickey? You make me skip class, drag me to the deserted fucking library to talk about what happened last night and what, now you’re mocking me for being honest with you?”

“I’m not mocking you, Dahlia. I’m stating a fact.” He rolled his eyes, refusing to look at me.

“I asked you if we could pretend like it never happened, if we could be just friends. You’re the one who said we could never be “just friends.”. Fuck.” I stuck my fingers up in air quotations as I spoke, feeling stupid and naive. Of course, he didn’t want me, why would he? The whore that was Mickey Altieri sluts around campus, why the hell would he want to start slumming it with the resident freak?

He speaks and it is so annoying and thoroughly him, “I was gonna tell you if you want to fuck, we can fuck. But I don’t do… That shit.”

I laugh bitterly and bite out, “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t want ‘that shit’ with you now anyway. God, you’re an asshole, you know that?”

He didn’t speak, eyes still staring down at his clenched fists and his brows furrowed.

“Whatever, I don’t need this shit, especially not from you. Bye, Mickey.” I moved to stand up but felt his large hand grip my bicep tightly, keeping me beside him on the floor. “Get the fuck off me.” I snapped, struggling, but his grip hardened, refusing to let me move.

He speaks louder than he has all afternoon, louder than he should in a library. “Can you just let me explain? I don’t do relationships, Dahlia. I never have. Like, come on! Do I seem like that kind of guy interested in monogamy to you?”

He had a point.

“I fuck, I leave. It’s a habit that I don’t think I know how to break. But you. You fucking get to me and I absolutely hate it.” The words are genuine, and he seems so upset that they are, like he wished that they weren’t true.

I stopped struggling, pausing to look at him in confusion as he continued talking.

“I know I’ll hurt you eventually, and I don’t want to do that. Really, you have no fucking idea how much I don’t want to do that. I’m giving you an out.”

“I don’t want an out, you stupid asshole.” I snapped, frowning at him as his lips twitched in a slight smile at my choice of words. Dick. “You don’t know that you’ll do any of that unless you try. How fulfilling is it, screwing without purpose? Banging and ditching over and over?”

“Very. Very fulfilling, maybe you should try it. That’s all I can offer you.” His smile widened as he took in my expression, clearly feeling me waver just slightly before I shook my head.

“I’m not fucking you just to fuck you, Mick.” I insisted, hoping I’d reach him.

He sighed, he’s falling back against the wall behind him as he finally let my arm go, but I didn’t move. He had some kind of spell over me, I didn’t want to go anywhere.

“So you’ll only let me fuck you if I’m dating you, huh? How long into it can I, a week?”

I scoffed, shaking my head no.

He asked next, tone hopeful, smile small, looking over at me through the corner of his eye, “Week and a half?”

“When the moment is right, maybe.” I told him, my own smile lurking on the corners of my mouth.

“And I can’t fuck other people in the meantime?” He asked with an honest curiosity.

“No.” I say firmly.

He looked thoughtful for a second, his eyes scanning over me in the way I once hated, but now was growing to love. I liked the way he looked at me like I was something to eat, and it honestly made me want to force him to wait even longer before he could touch me.

“Fine.” He said quietly. I pretended not to hear, cupping my ear and leaning toward him with a sly, “Hm? What was that?”

He laughed, grabbing my hand and pulling me close to him, adjusting himself against the wall, so he was face to face with me as he said, with the most beautiful smile I’d ever fucking seen on his face, “I said fine, let’s try it. Let’s date.”

CHAPTER EIGHT HERE

[alicewhitesblog]

Short Story by © Alice White

"What did happened to Betty Monroe?"

Were often asked around the coffee machine at TransCorp where she worked.

"Who?" Or "Oh yeah, her" were the most popular answers to that question. And before anyone could elaborate further, another topic of conversation would bloom and soon Betty was again forgotten about.

If Betty Monroe had been there that day she would have been pleased of the anonymity she managed to uphold. She wasn't good in crowds, nor socialising in general. Preferring the company of her books. Her ideal vacation was somewhere with a bookshop, library and plenty of coffee shops.

Unfortunately, for her this solitude was going to be literally 'the death of her'.

The last day of Betty Monroe started normally, she got out of bed at 06:30, showered, dressed had her usual breakfast of cereal, toast and orange juice. Brushed her teeth, grabbed her jacket and bag and headed for the train station.

The platform was no more busy than usual and she waited patiently for her train. It was during this period that she had the feeling that she was being watched. Slowly turning from side to side Betty tried to see if anyone was looking at her. But all of the other passengers were just starring straight ahead.

She was about to do the same, when her eye caught the sight of a man on the opposite platform smiling at her. Now self-conscious Betty tried to hide amongst the crowd. But she couldn't help but stare at the stranger. He was tall, dressed totally in black and oddly wearing a top hat! Betty allowed herself a coy smile, thinking how funny he looked. Reminding her of the child catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

All thoughts of him soon disappeared when the train finally arrived.

Betty climbed onboard the train, entered a carriage and found an empty seat. Settled down, she produced her book from her bag and continued from where she left off.

It was halfway through her journey that the feeling of being watched came upon her again. Boldly this time she purposely looked about her to see who was starring. To her horror it was the same man from the platform!

She spontaneous gave a shriek, grabbing everyone in the carriage attention. Wide-eyed and her mouth even wider, she immediately clapped her hand over the gaping hole.

"Are you alright ma'am?" Someone asked.

But all Betty could do was have her eyes fixed on the stranger. Laughing now, he got out of his seat and made his way towards her.

Betty was oblivious to the concerns of the passengers around her. She watched as he seemingly walked through the passengers now only feet away from her.

With his Cheshire Cat grin, Betty noticed his teeth were thin and pointed like sharp needles. Also his skin was translucent grey. Like he had been pulled out of a black and white movie.

"Hello Betty. So, you want to be alone do you?" And before she could respond, he touched her hand.

Immediately her colour began to drain out of her and into the stranger. Soon it was her that had the appearance of monochrome. Once the transfer of colour was completed. The focus of well-being switched to the stranger, as if it was he that had been in destress. All attention now was away from Betty.

The stranger thanked everyone for their concern and went back to his seat, looking in the direction of where Betty would have stood.

Betty leapt up from her seat and made her way over to the stranger. "Who are you and what have you done to me!" She cried out. But the stranger either was ignoring her or he genuinely now didn't see her.

The train eventually stopped and decanted it's passengers. Betty, soon lost the stranger in the crowd. Still in shock, she blindly followed the travelling hurd out of the station. Not knowing what to do next, she followed her instincts and headed for the office.

Once inside the reception, Betty retrieved her pass from her bag and made to swipe her way through the turnstile. Instead of the green light that opened the turnstile. She was met with a red light and an audible alarm. Embarrassed, she turned to make her apology, but people seem to walk through her not noticing she was in the way or that she set the alarm off.

Betty walked close behind a member of staff and gained entrance to the building. She had the same problem trying to catch the elevator. Nothing worked for her and people stopped paying her attention. It was as if she simply didn't exist!

The final act of despair came when approaching her desk she saw it had been taken by someone else.

"Excuse me. I sit here."

No answer.

"I said I sit here!" Betty now more animated.

"Ah!" Said a voice behind her.

Betty turned to see her boss.

"Mr Jackson, thank heavens, look this person..."

Betty stopped talking. It was clear Mr Jackson was not listening or looking at her.

"How are you settling in Mrs Wilde?"

"Fine, however, there still seems to be some personal items left in the drawer from the previous employee."

Betty now looked into the open drawer.

"Yes, that's my stuff..."

"Oh right, I get them removed and sent on to the next of kin. Oh what was her name again. Murray, Martin. Sounds awful but I can't remember her now."

Betty screamed a scream that nobody would hear. Eventually, people would remember her again all be it fleeting. They would say, whatever did happen to Betty Monroe?

[female-buckets]

Peace and Balance in Uncasville

Bonner’s first season with Connecticut took place in the bubble due to COVID-19. The Sun went 10-12, but were competitive in the playoffs, impressive considering that Jonquel Jones opted out due to health concerns (2nd team All-WNBA in 2019 when the Sun made a run to the Finals).

The bubble was about growth for the Sun on the court, and growth off the court for DeWanna and first time teammate, now fiancé, Alyssa Thomas.

“It was literally nothing to do there (the bubble) but spend time together, we were there like three months, every day together, so that just became our normal routine. And now, when we’re here (Connecticut), you just add two crazies (DeWanna’s twins, Cali and Demi) to the bunch…we were both just at a place in our lives when we met where it was like, ‘OK, we’re gonna make this work,'” says Bonner.

Erica was in the bubble with the Dream and Lynx, witnessing their growth together in all facets.

“They started off kind of coy and shy around one another,” Erica said. “As time went on, they became this dynamic duo.”

They’d never played together in the W or overseas. Thomas had a strong impression of DeWanna’s game already before she joined her team, but DeWanna was taken aback by Thomas. She knew she was good, but acquired an even better appreciation during their first practice together.

“I literally told her when I first got here, Damn, I didn’t know you were that good…I legit looked at her one day and was like, ‘I’m sorry, I owe you an apology,'” says Bonner.

On the court, the pair are demonstrative, they’re expressive, playing the game with the same fiery passion and spirit. They could not be further from their on-court personas the second they leave the hardwood.

They’re both quiet and reserved, self-described as homebodies. DeWanna is more outward with jokes and a bubbly attitude while Alyssa has a drier sense of humor.

The competitive fire they share on the court is arguably as intense off of it; board games are a battle, they’ll race one another to stop signs, even in-game they’ll have competitions for who can get the most steals in a given game. Alyssa owns anything strategic, so anytime DB steals a game or a hand of cards, Alyssa never hears the end of it.

They bump heads, often because of something that took place on court or in practice.

“Nine times out of 10 it’s because of something Alyssa did,” says DeWanna.

Their relationship has a yin and yang balance; AT is the more vocal leader who is always going to point out a mistake and show a teachable moment, where as DB is described by most of her teammates as the mom of the Sun. She’s going to walk up and put her arm around you, listen to you, give you words of encouragement. There’s an equilibrium created by their polarity in leadership styles.

“Her energy is just special,” says Thomas.

“No matter the situation, she brings people joy, she brings me joy.”

Thomas is routinely inspired by her fiancé and her ability to be a star on the court while remaining such a present mother off of it.

“It’s a full time job outside of basketball… early mornings, late nights, waking up in the middle of the night,” Thomas said. “What she’s able to do with them and then perform… I’m in awe watching her.”

Cali and Demi split time half and half with their mother Candice Dupree in Texas, and the other half with DeWanna in Connecticut.

“When they’re here, it is literally non-stop,” says DeWanna laughing and looking around behind her. Cali and Demi are drawing on a whiteboard after begging for markers.

“For instance, yesterday, game day, I wake up and I’m attentive to them. Alyssa’s sister is here to help watch them so I don’t bring them to shootaround… it’s very eventful, I come back from shootaround and play with them and take a nap on the floor… wake up to go to the game, then we don’t get to sleep til about midnight, because once we hit the door, it’s ‘Watch me Mom, play with me, let’s do this!’ It’s very busy, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

When she’s overseas, she’ll facetime the girls before and after games. Any opportunity to be present for her daughters is essential to her.

Connecticut isn’t for everyone. But, Bonner and Thomas have both fallen in love with it for similar reasons. They appreciate the peace that comes with living in one of the smaller markets in the league. Bonner says that she’ll force herself to go out with teammates on the road occasionally, but the second they’re back in Uncasville, “finally, I’m at peace.”

[chaoticbard]

It was unsettling to see Haarlep guised as Raphael. It was like walking next to a ghost, one that might decide to exact revenge upon her for what she'd done. Regardless, Alaara schooled her posture and expression right up to the point they were in Raphael's old room. Only then did she drop her act. Thank the Gods she wasn't alone; she had her campmates to support her.

It was to her luck that Haarlep dropped the new look and went back to his normal self before plopping himself down for a rest. In its own weird way, it was a relief if not a comfort to see the incubus lounging over the entirety of the mattress. She'd take that any day.

Alaara moved toward the bath, running her hand through its waters. They were indeed warm, likely kept so by fire, either magic or a simple stove piping heat under it. Taking Haarlep up on the offer, she stripped herself of her garments save her underwear, gently placing her clothing next to the bath's edge. She then slipped in and let out a sigh of contentment as the water began to soothe her body, which she realized then and only then had been aching terribly.

"I could get used to this," she murmured, resting her horns on the bath's edge. "Maybe I shall if we save the world and end up heroes."

"I'm surprised at you, Haarlep. You've gone several minutes without any coy remarks directed at any of us."

The dragonborn had tight lips, but he'd known that already. For all he could tease, he knew it had its limits unless he wanted to be kicked out of this little party. Right now, he was enjoying him far too much for that! He had two options. He could stay here and live in somewhat luxury, or he could go back to Cania, where he would only have devils to deal with, and sometimes... they were far too stiff. Here, he could break the rules all he liked, so long as he wasn't actively killing anyone.

Soon enough, he knew Mephistopheles would call upon him or even summon him, but for now, the Archdevil likely had other things on his mind other than one little incubus.

He hummed in thought, but knew that this conversation was far too deep for someone with the likes of him. He was no compassionate lover, Haarlep was anything but. Instead, they walked and collection their camp buddies and headed into the city until they reached Sharess' Caress and Haarlep made himself known to the patrons with Raphael's familiar face once more. Of course, they knew it wasn't him, they were used to the incubus spending his time there, lazing about and messing with the patrons.

Opening the door to the Devil's Den, Haarlep took a big breath in, the scent of pepper still lingering. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and stepped inside. "Here, my dear. The best the house has to offer." Because Raphael always got the best.

He leant down to touch the water, feeling it was warm. "Perfect. They have done well." But it was the bed that Haarlep walked to. The bed that Raphael had never actually shared himself with. He'd not been there to seduce people, he'd been there to make deals with them. Either way, he'd slept in it, and it still held that scent, even if the sheets had been washed and scrubbed. It lingered there, Haarlep's keen senses picking it up, and he flopped onto it, wings spread out as he pressed himself into them.

"Please do try the bath," he said, voice muffled in the sheets and pillows as he rubbed himself on the bed like a cat.

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter LXXIII: Barkdust

I seldom worried about how I acted or what made up who I was. It was fun to think about it. Interesting, even. That is, if I ever wished to think about it. But I never did.

It didn’t worry me whether I was too kind or not kind enough, or whether I was my “best self” (whatever that could ever look like). No, as long as I acted in a manner which felt right to me, I had no need to think or worry about such things.

That said, I did worry about others. More specifically, my wife, Vesuvius (more commonly known as Ves, or sometimes referred to as ‘hothead’), and our newest guest, Rachel.

Who was Rachel?

Someone who shivered often, complained of being cold, had a mysterious past, and a soft voice. She was tall, muscular, short haired, and lazy. She alternated between nervous fidgeting and a stone-faced seriousness. Sometimes, she would sneer with her soft voice, and a snide tone would take over. Other times, when she was serious, her voice would lower and become deeper and richer.

There were many quirks and oddities to dissect, but none of those really mattered. When you were reading that description, you may have thought something like: “gee, doesn’t that all sound familiar? Almost as if…”

Yes. You would be correct. Or rather, I would be correct. Or Ves would be correct, if she were to connect the dots.

Sorry. I shouldn’t even blame her so much. I know why she’s been treating things as normal. I should too, right? Rachel was Rachel, after all. It didn’t matter what other names she may have had in the past. If they both wished to move on, I should respect that…

...is what I would say if “Rachel” wasn’t dropping hints left and right for Ves to pick up like it was some identity-based scavenger hunt.

That she was being so coy led me to believe, too, that it was indeed her and not Remora, nor some other perfectly coincidental stranger. Of course, by ‘her’, I meant...well, you know. I shouldn’t have to say it.

“Hey Rachel,” I greeted while she was out in the humid heat of late spring weather, with the perfect cloudy day and almost scorching levels of heat. She had been trimming some of the branches of shrubbery around the garden (Ves put her up to the task, and she must have decided she had nothing better to do, because she agreed to it). She wore no gloves, and didn’t seem to mind such things as blisters, bruises, or the like. As I approached her, she shivered and her motions with the trimmer was unsteady at best.

“Brr…” She muttered, before turning around to greet me, “hey...uh...Juniper. Have you come to share some of your body heat with me?”

“Do you really think I would do that?” I shook my head.

“No,” she hung her head low and her movements turned more steady, as she concentrated on trimming, “I know you’re faithful to your wife. I shouldn’t joke like that. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not it,” I crossed my arms, “as it so happens, I am quite warm already, and if I were to press myself against you, I might overheat.”

“Ah, that’s true. You are hot. That is a fact. But I’m cold, so maybe if we…”

“Have you noticed that you’re sweating?” I pointed out. She wore a thick, red puffy jacket and a brown stocking cap. From under the cap, sweat ran down the sides of her face. She didn’t wipe it off or anything, and just let it drip off her chin as she worked.

“Ah. This must be thermal equilibrium, don’t you think? I have heard that sweat is the body’s way of cooling itself. Thermal equilibrium. That is also why I offered for you to press yourself against me, as it would benefit both of us. I would warm up, and you would cool. Of course, I may have ulterior motives, as one with such a request tends to have. That said, I wonder, then, why one’s body may also break out into cold sweats. Do you know?”

“I don’t. My brother’s a doctor, though. He might know.”

“Right. You have a brother. You may have mentioned that before.”

“I haven’t,” I almost felt like smirking, as those two words should have been enough to catch her in a trap.

“You haven’t? That’s fine as well. Maybe you just strike me as the type to have a brother. Does that make sense?”

I was dumbfounded. That weasel. That arctic weasel. That East Siberian Stoat (the only arctic weasel I was familiar with).

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t,” I replied in the most exhausted tone I could muster. “Do you need a towel or something? How about some water? I don’t want you to dehydrate or pass out in the sun. Neither of those sound pleasant.”

“Is that a risk?” She asked.

“One cannot be too cautious out in nature.”

Rachel bent down set down the trimmer on the soft soil beside the shrub. As she stood back up, she let out a soft sigh.

“I get it,” her voice darkened. In a strange sense, it was the tone of voice of hers that I loved the most. It wasn’t that I thought her serious tone was more ‘true’ than her nervous or joking tone, but rather that when she switched to that tone, it seemed like she was in control of whatever situation she happened to be in.

“You’re thinking how it’s all in my head, aren’t you?” She continued.

I shook my head.

“There’s nothing wrong with thinking that. It’s a sunny day. I’m sweating. It doesn’t take much to put two and two together, and while it’s true that a day can be sunny without necessitating warmth, I’m inclined to believe you when you say you’re quite warm already. You are Juniper, after all, someone who has no reason to lie.”

She faced me with stiff expression; creased brow, straight lips, and an intense glare. I no longer noticed her shivering, but if I had a better grasp of myself, I wouldn’t be surprised to find that I was the one shivering. At that moment, too, even if I was shivering (quivering or quaking, more like), I felt a certain warmth spread through my legs, and it became clear that I was facing the other way Rachel could be ‘cold’: her demeanor.

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed out.

“Why? You were trying to help. You have done nothing wrong. I am aware that my condition is most likely psychological. Either through anxiety or some other reason I cannot fathom. In fact, I cannot fathom why I would have any psychological conditions, either, but here we are. That said, I cannot simply ‘turn off’ this condition, and it still feels just as real to me as you the warm temperature must feel to you.”

“O-Of course.”

“But since you offered, yes, I would like some water. With ice, please. I find water with ice tends to warm me up, even just a little. A towel, too, would be nice. Since you offered. Please.”

“Right away, ma’am!” I blurted before running off, my heart racing alongside me.

Once back inside, I ran over to the sink and splashed water over my face.

Why am I letting her get to me? I thought, I’m the one who should be in control. I tamed Ves, after all, so there’s no reason why I can’t tame Rachel, too.

Maybe ‘tame’ was the wrong word, but I ask: did it really matter what the right word was?

When it comes to the woman Ves claimed to have moved on from, my own thoughts on her are rather threadbare. What I mean is, we met during the incident three years ago, and the sum total of my interactions with her probably amounted to 15 minutes at most. Compare that with the two or three days Ves knew her for and it’s really no wonder why Ves feels a closer connection with her while for me it was just a matter of ‘oh yeah, the weird stalker lady. I remember her.’

Pair that with the fact that Ves never had difficulty forming connections or bonds with others. She’d disagree, of course, and even say something like, “but Juniper’s much nicer, who wouldn’t like Juniper at first sight?’

I wouldn’t disagree that my wife could be a real asshole sometimes, but she also had a habit of underselling her own kindness. And sure, she had poor posture, often gazed down with a sullen expression, and tends to be cautious and avoid eye contact around new people. Just a few of the hallmarks that would make forming connections difficult.

Yet I bet if she were to walk into a public library, she’d walk out with five new friends made. Meanwhile, I just go into a library, check out a how-to manual, and walk out with knowledge in my hand. Sure, I can be friendly with anyone who talks to me first but I don’t think I have this aura about me that makes people want to come up to me. I don’t just get strangers going “hey Juniper, can I have your autograph?” Well, truth be told, that’s never happened with Ves, either. Oh, jeez. What was I going on about again?

Ah. Right. The ghost. The thing that won’t leave. Capital ‘R’.

My assessment of you-know-who was that she was troubled and lonely. I get that it was never in the cards for us to be friends, given what role she played in our lives, even though I would have accepted her were it an option. I’m sure that’s what Ves would rather have happened as well.

Still, that final scene, on that rooftop…

To say she didn’t leave an impression on me would have been a lie. But given the lack of screen time between us compared to the screen time that Ves and her shared coupled with the fact that I was dealing with a minor case of possession, meant that it was never going to be a strong impression. My memories of the time are intact, but just a little hazy when it comes to the details.

I just remember Ves going off to fight her on a rooftop. I was concerned, so ran into the skyscraper they were fighting atop and raced up the stairs. I remember shoving past office workers and security guards alike.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” One demanded.

I can’t recall what I said, but I remember it not being a hassle to get past them.

Even still, there were several flights, and I wasn’t exactly ‘in shape,’ so it comes at no surprise that it took me several minutes to get up there, and by the time I did, the fight was already finished.

Ves was upset, in a panic and trying to keep our tormentor alive. But for me, seeing the face of the one lying down and bleeding out, all I thought was:

She looks satisfied. She must be at peace.

I truly must have thought that her dying was what she wanted. If I was a little more rational (or maybe less rational, and a little more human) I would have tried to keep her alive as well. But given my condition at the time, I didn’t see it right to interfere.

No, there was more to that as well.

It wasn’t just “she seems happy. Let’s let her rest in peace.”

Perhaps in a cruel sense, I felt relief.

Relief for Ves and I. The kind of relief where you just finished a making a toy robot and it didn’t fall apart as soon as you picked it up. Or the kind of relief where you just got done with a chore that you’ve been putting off and now you can use that chore as an excuse to relax for the rest of the day.

Yes. Just like that.

The ordeal was behind us. Our lives could go back to normal. Maybe it would take time for us to heal, but at least we would no longer have to worry about being pursued any longer.

Ah, if only things worked that way.

With the faucet still on, I got the red hand towel wet, then grabbed a glass from the nearest cupboard, tossed in some ice from the freezer, and filled the glass with water. Now all I had to do was deliver the goods.

As I turned to walk out of the kitchen, I heard the front door swing open and slam into the wall. I ran out and saw Rachel standing in the doorway.

“Your...your towel!” I blurted out and threw it at her. She caught it in one hand.

She wrapped it around the back of her neck, then grinned.

“Thanks! I figured I did about all I could with those shrubs, so now I’m back inside,” she explained, and without hesitation, snatched the glass of water out of my hand and chugged it down. It only took a few gulps for that thing to go empty and the ice to jingle around. As if triumphant in her drink, she let out a mighty belch.

“Right. Excuse you, then,” I muttered.

“Sorry. I’ve never been very good with manners. On that note, may I please get a refill? For some reason, I get thirsty standing next to you.”

“Then maybe you should take a step back?” I suggested.

“I don’t think that will help much. See, I also get thirsty thinking about you.”

“Think about other things.”

“Oh, believe me, I try. Somehow my thoughts always return to you.”

“Just like you returned,” I muttered.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing, ha ha!” I scratched my pigtails and laughed.

Rachel shrugged and walked past me. I turned and watched as she poured herself another glass of water and chugged it down again.

At least she was acclimating well. That was important, right?

Ves walked out from the bedroom and yawned. She just woke up from an afternoon nap, that scamp. I knew the routine: whenever Ves woke up from an afternoon nap, the first thing she did was go into the kitchen and grab a pear. Since we didn’t have a pear tree, it was up to me to buy pears from the grocery store and keep us well stocked.

As she approached the kitchen, Ves caught sight of Rachel and I caught sight of both of them staring into each other’s eyes. It was quite creepy, especially as Rachel broke the gaze to stare into my eyes. Like, pick someone’s attention to focus on and stick with them!

“Hey Rachel. I’ve been giving it some thought, and while I’m still going to get high sometimes just for the hell of it, would you be okay if I confided in you from time to time?” Ves asked.

“Sure. As long as you don’t expect me to listen,” Rachel shrugged.

My jaw ought to have dropped, but it didn’t. I held it in place. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hold it together for long, and soon it came tumbling down, along with a flood of shock:

“What?! But you usually confide stuff with me!”

Ves and Rachel both turned and stared in my directions. My fists were balled up and my face turned into a ripe tomato. Sure, it may have been out of character for me, but I’d argue Ves hasn’t been in character since Rachel showed up.

“Hun, I’ll still come to you. It just helps having another person to talk to sometimes. Especially as I’m no longer seeing a therapist and I don’t have any other friends.”

“Haa…” I sighed and wiped away a tear from my eye, “sorry. I guess I just got worked up.”

“Is everything okay?” She asked.

“Yeah. It’s just that...I don’t know…” It wasn’t like me not to say how I was feeling. Doubly so that I was jealous. I couldn’t believe it. I was acting like a baby. Me. When usually I was so composed and friendly, and instead I was reduced to…

A warm sensation reached my cheek. I glanced over and saw Ves’s palm on my cheek. She used her index finger to stroke along near my ear.

I closed my eyes and purred while smiling.

It was like our personalities had swapped, and I was panicking over the littlest of things and getting jealous and losing my cool. But if our personalities had swapped, that just meant she was there to ease me back into a peaceful state.

“This is a big adjustment for me too. I know we can get through this. We’re both strong, aren’t we?” Ves asked in a soothing voice.

I nodded and felt weak. She really didn’t have to do much to please me.

“Right. This is awkward. You two are having a moment. I’m going to my room,” Rachel announced and the shock made the two of us break away and take a step back.

We watched Rachel walk into the guest room, something she hadn’t done since arriving here. Well, at least we had some semblance of privacy again.

“Hehe, sorry. Guess I’ve been stressing more than I thought I would. It’s not like we haven’t had guests, even surprise guests before.”

“It’s okay,” Ves reassured me, “this guest seems different somehow, wouldn’t you say? I suppose we’ve both not been ourselves.”

“Yeah…”

“If you ever get too stressed, feel free to take a rip from my bong,” she offered, but I scoffed at such an idea.

“Sorry, I know you enjoy it, and it makes you happy, but I just can’t stand the smell or the taste. Plus I’m not a fan of coughing. I don’t think any of the loopy effects are enough to justify the parts that peeve me,” I explained. “I’ll probably just tinker around in my workshop tonight to relieve stress.”

“Masturbation’s always an option as well,” Ves suggested.

“I much prefer when you get me off. Besides, for me, building things is a form of masturbation.”

We both laughed.

“I guess I can see that. Just like how I feel ecstatic whenever I visit the greenhouse,” Ves added.

As it turns out, I had other plans that night. Plans that didn’t involve tinkering or masturbation of any kind.

No, my plan for the night was a form of sleuthing: detective Juniper, on the case. This time, I was determined to catch Rachel and get her to slip up. No more of this dancing around the issue. I’d have her wrapped around my finger by the time the night was over.

After we made love and Ves passed out, I sat up and read from the current book I was on, ‘Hotwiring Cars For Dummies’. It was quite informative, and once I was done reading it, all that was left to do was apply what I learned in real life. Maybe next time I went to the grocery store…

I took off Ves’s reading glasses and set them on the nightstand. They always made my head hurt when I wore them, but I found it easier to read with them on, so there was that trade-off. After squinting and shaking my head, I slipped on a tie-dye t-shirt from the dresser and slipped on some slippers. I wasn’t actually planning on going outside, but I had to look the part.

(If I was planning on going outside, I would have slipped on a sweater. It gets pretty chilly at night)

As soon as I opened the door, I saw Rachel sat up on the couch, wrapped in several blankets.

“Juniper!” Rachel turned and called out with a grin. Her face lit up so bright I was surprised that alone wasn’t enough to warm her up.

“So excited you can’t sleep, huh?” I asked.

“I hardly ever sleep. I’m just happy to see you.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because...you’re Juniper.”

I smiled and shook my head.

“I swear, I don’t understand you…”

“I don’t understand, myself,” Rachel looked down and admitted. “I went from being someone who thought she didn’t need anyone around to someone happy to be in the company of you and Ves. It’s like I’m not my old self when I’m around you two, but I also don’t mind this.”

Maybe I’ve been too hard on her, was my initial thought. But then when I remembered just who was saying all that, my thoughts changed to, of course she would say something like that.

“Well, I think it’s important to have human connection. I’m glad we’ve had such an impact on you.”

She raised her head back up. She didn’t so much have a grin, but rather a gentle, almost warm smile.

I think I get what Ves sees in her. No matter how troublesome she is, she’s quite charming as well. Oh, god damn it.

Then, as if hearing my thoughts and wishing to raise the stakes, she sat straight up and the blankets covering her slid off to reveal her topless and covered in scars.

There was no getting around it: she was beautiful. All her scars formed a pretty pattern, and no matter where she got each one, they only served to make her more attractive. I especially like how three of her scars sort of formed what looked like a slanted smiley face. Those were the scars just under her right breast, for the record. Then there were the scars on the left side, near her back, which kind of formed the shape of a giraffe.

To say nothing of her muscles and how cute her small breasts were, aah...I was getting distracted. Ves and I walked around the house topless plenty of times. On certain occasions, we’d even walk around naked. This should have been no big deal.

“Well, when in Rome…” I laughed and slid my shirt off as well.

“I don’t get it. We’re not in Rome.”

“Ves is part Italian, but that’s irrelevant.”

“Then why mention Rome?”

I chuckled.

“You know, you’re a strange one. But that’s not a bad thing. It’s what I like about you,” I wondered if it was just the late night euphoria talking or if I was genuinely happy to be around her.

“You like me?” Rachel asked and I thought I caught a faint hint of a blush.

What did I come out here for again? I asked myself. The atmosphere was intoxicating.

“Of course. I have no reason to lie to you.”

“You really are the real Juniper, aren’t you?” She asked.

I didn’t understand what she meant, but that was just enough to break the spell and refocus my energy on the mission at hand.

“Just as you’re the real you, aren’t you?” I smirked.

“Well, of course…”

“Hey, Rachel. What do you know about assassins?” I asked in a sly voice. But if anything, I imagined myself in an interrogation room with Rachel seated in a chair in the corner and bound with rope.

What kind of fantasies am I having? Sheesh.

"Not much. Historically, I believe the name originates from the Nizari Isma'ili State founded by Hassan-i Sabbah. The people of that state were known as 'hashashin' later referred to as 'assassin'. They were a religious nation formed when Hassan, appalled by the religious oppression at Alamut fortress, devised a plan to seize Alamut from its lord. He and his followers did this by disguising themselves as teachers in the fortress and gaining support from the guards within. By the time all support was in Hassan's favor, they spared the lord of the fortress's life under condition that the lord stepped down. This covert capture was done without the need for violence or loss of life, and more fortress captures were done using the same strategy. Later on, the assassins would take the lives of political opponents and they were even feared by the crusaders. This form of political murder was dubbed 'assassination'. Nowadays, the targeted killing of anyone often gets called an assassination. As for hired killers, which often gets conflated with assassin, that's usually only something you see in mafia fiction, as actual hitmen are more of a hoax than anything else. Needless to say, I don't think any actual assassins exist nowadays."

“That’s...a lot,” I remarked. I was surprised she managed to say all that in one breath, let alone the fact that she didn’t shiver once while speaking.

“Well, you asked what I knew. I answered.”

“That I did.”

Some of what she said actually sounded interesting. I should try to remember this little history lesson. Never mind that. She still hasn’t fessed up.

“You know, the reason I asked if you met Remora before was because I met her once too. Do you know what she told me?”

“Not a clue.”

“She told me she was an assassin.”

I bluffed. She never told me that. But there was no way Rachel could know that.

Rachel blinked once. So it wasn’t like I could say she didn’t bat an eyelash, but still, her lack of shock was astounding.

“Of course. Sounds like something an idiot would say.”

“What?”

“No actual assassin would admit to being one, would they? Doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose? Whatever. It’s all fiction, anyway.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” I wasn’t ready to give up.

“Why? Are you one?” She asked.

I leaned back. She almost had me on the ropes, but I decided to play along.

“Maybe I am,” I smirked.

“I guess I have no choice. Do what you want with me. I accept my fate.”

I blinked. Not once, not twice, not even three times. It was more like 30 blinks in rapid succession.

“I’m...sorry. I lied to you. I’m not an assassin,” she really left me stifled.

“I forgive you. A lie like that is harmless. Unlike being an actual assassin, which probably isn’t harmless. Is that why you can’t get to sleep? Because you’re having scary thoughts like that?” She asked.

“I just might. Maybe if I slept beside you tonight, I won’t have such thoughts.”

“You mean…? But what would Ves think if she saw us?” Rachel gasped.

“I doubt she’d mind. It’s just sleeping. But you’re right that she’d get lonely. Maybe you should come into bed with Ves and I?”

Rachel’s eyes shifted around. She must have been evaluating her options.

“I...guess...if you don’t mind my shivering.”

“It’s cold at night, anyway. Remember what you said earlier about sharing body heat?”

“But the couch is pretty small. Are you sure we can both fit?”

“We’ll make it work.”

I stepped over behind where she sat and curled against the cushion. I pulled Rachel down and spread the blankets over us.

It felt hasty. On impulse. Really, my reasons for doing so were flimsy at best. What did I have to gain other than wrapping my arms around her wide torso and pressing myself against her back?

Needless to say, that’s exactly what I did.

Also needless to say, she shivered.

“Um. Are you sure you’re comfortable?” She asked.

“Mm...yeah. You’re quite warm,” I admitted. It was true. No matter how much she didn’t think so, feeling her up close was like hugging the bottom of a laptop while a game was running, if that bottom of a laptop was soft and fleshy and breathed brisk breaths close to my ear.

I wasn’t making it sound sexy, was I?

I was expecting her to refute the ‘warm’ statement, but she didn’t.

“I can feel your b...breasts on my back,” she muttered.

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked.

She didn’t answer after that, and I felt a sudden wave of tiredness wash over me.

I really don’t know how I’ll explain this to Ves. I went from being jealous of Rachel to sleeping next to her. Some hypocrite of a wife I turned out to be.

In the morning, my head felt heavy and full of hot air. When I pulled myself up, I stared with dull eyes.

The TV, which never seemed to get turned on, stared back at me. What didn’t stare back at me was Rachel, who wasn’t anywhere I could see her.

I, however, was still covered in the mass of several blankets.

“Oh, good morning, hun,” Ves’s tired, half-yawn voice, with just a sprinkle of softness mixed in greeted me. I turned and saw her in the dining room, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand.

“Ugh…” I groaned and rubbed my head, “good morning.”

“Rough night?” She asked.

“Something like that.”

“Rachel told me you came out last night and wanted to try sleeping on the couch, so she went to sleep in the guest room and give you some space,” Ves explained.

That was a total lie, but...I guess she was trying to cover for me?

“Where is she?” I asked.

“In the kitchen,” Rachel’s voice answered with her mouth full of...something. Rachel walked out and had a loaf of garlic bread in her hand and a big chunk bitten out of it.

“Isn’t that the garlic bread I made for all of us to share?” I asked.

“Well, I haven’t eaten all of it yet,” Rachel set the loaf down.

I grumbled and stumbled my way off the couch and over to the dining room table where garlic bread awaited.

“Would you like some tea, dear?” Ves offered.

“Black, please.”

I wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but that morning in particular, I needed the caffeine.

Ves went up to pour me a cup, and while she went at that, I broke off a piece of the garlic bread.

“No more for you. That’s plenty, missy,” I scolded Rachel. She whimpered, but I ignored her.

After she poured me a cup and sat back down, Rachel sat down as well. She had a sullen look on her face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She looked in my direction and gave a slight smile.

“I’m just trying to figure out how this day will go,” she said, “I still can’t believe I get to live here.”

The emphasis on “live” sent a chill down my spine.

Ves took a sip of her tea. I could smell the flowery aroma from where I sat as the steam wafted through the air. If I had to take a guess, it was probably jasmine tea.

“Say, Vesuvius, do you ever get the feeling that we met before? Perhaps in a past life? It’s just that I can’t shake the feeling of familiarity between us,” Rachel rasped with that wicked smile. That was when I noticed that she didn’t have any tea next to her. Actually, that wasn’t so unusual.

“Yeah, actually,” Ves set down her cup and smiled while turning her attention to the floor. It wasn’t such a pleasant smile, or at least I didn’t think so. “You remind me of someone.”

“Oh? Who?” Rachel leaned in.

“She was someone I didn’t know for very long, but I felt immense guilt over what happened to her.”

“Wow. That heavy?”

Is Ves going to do it? Will she finally say the name of the person who impacted both of our lives three years ago?

“Yeah,” Ves continued, “her name was Gardenia. She was an older woman, and she lived isolated surrounded by a field of poisonous plants. I was a runaway when she took me in, and she taught me all about various flora. But, the ones who hunted me down found where I was staying and while I managed to get away, they shot her down. Even now I can’t help but blame myself for her death.”

Wait. Gardenia? Who?

“Her death wasn’t your fault!” Rachel’s words shook as she shouted out and pounded her fist upon the table. The table shook as well, but that was less important, as the table was poorly assembled to begin with.

“I know, it’s just…”

“No one’s death is your fault! Not hers, not mine, not anyone’s!” She just about spat out.

“Yours?” Ves looked up, confused.

“Never mind that,” Rachel waved her hand away. “The point is, these people you met died. That’s their business. It shouldn’t be your problem. You’re not the one who killed them.”

“Well, that’s nice of you to say, but I think I have killed someone before…”

“So what? Who hasn’t killed someone once or twice?”

I raised my hand.

“I’ve never killed anyone,” I chimed in.

“And that’s why we love you,” Rachel relaxed her brow and nodded to me before returning to a scowl in Ves’s direction. “My life is my own. If I die, that’s on me. If others die, that’s on them. I wouldn’t ask you to carry that burden.”

Ves looked like she was about to burst into tears. I couldn’t blame her. If I went through the things she had and got told off by a familiar stranger, I’d probably be wailing already.

“It’s me, Ves. I’m here,” Rachel laid her arms on the table and lowered her voice to an icy chill as she smiled slightly.

“But who are you?” Vesuvius asked, and tears began to stream from her eyes.

I got up and dabbed her eyes with a cloth.

“That’s for you to figure out. I think I’ve said enough. All this talk about death is making me want to feed chickens,” Rachel announced and walked out the door.

I had many things I wanted to say. Like how bold that was. How close she was to almost spilling the truth. But tending to Vesuvius was a little more important at the moment.

“Deep breaths,” I whispered.

She took a couple of deep breaths while I wiped away the tears.

She grabbed my arm with her own and pulled me closer to her. Taking the cue, I held onto her tight.

“Why am I so confused?” She pouted.

“Because she’s a confusing woman,” I said.

“I just don’t want to fail with her.”

What if your suspicion ended up being correct? I wanted to ask her, but didn’t.

“Failure happens. I know you’re doing your best,” is what I ended up saying instead.

She rested her head against my chest and I stroked her hair. We must have basked in that moment for at least ten minutes before breaking away.

I would have let it last longer, but I had to confront the one guilty of bringing my wife to tears. The one who was most likely still in the barn.

I slipped my t-shirt back on which had been conveniently laying on the floor and rushed out into the barn.

What’s the big idea? Out of all the ways she could have come forward with the truth, she chose...no, never mind that. What about the fact that the truth still wasn’t out in the open? How long was this going to keep going on for where we all tiptoe between attraction and mourning? It’s getting out of hand.

I stomped my feet as I stormed into the barn. She was still standing there, hunched over.

“Okay. I’ll ask again: what do you want with us?” I demanded.

Rachel stood straight up and turned toward me. Her face carried an icy stare.

“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice darkened like that of a howling snowstorm.

“That thing with Gardenia. She never told me that before, but she trusts you, a stranger. I don’t usually get jealous, but maybe it’s because she’s never taken interest in anyone else, besides one person in particular. And you know what? I was fine with her obsessing over that person, because I know how bad losing that person affected her. But that person wasn’t Gardenia.”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit. Ves loves you. I didn’t come with the intention of separating the two of you.”

“I know she loves me. But I think she has a crush on you, too.”

Rachel sighed.

“This is terrible…” She bemoaned. “I’ve been wanting to get your attention this whole time but instead I’ve only gotten her more into me while I’ve made you mad at me.”

“That’s not true. I quite liked last night. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

I shook my head. Yes, it was a lovely time, even if she didn’t seem all that comfortable. But that wasn’t what I wanted to say.

“...You never answered the question: what do you want with us?”

Her mouth opened, as if to gasp, but no sound came out. She closed her mouth, and when she opened again, she said:

“I know I have no right to be in your presence. I never wished to stir up any bad feelings with either of you. But even still, I wanted to see you both again.”

My eyes stung and turned misty. Guess it was my turn. Because she really did admit it, didn’t she? The thing I’ve been waiting for this whole time.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Who?” She asked in turn with a sly smile.

“That all depends: what do you want me to call you?”

With that, I walked out of the barn. There was still a whole day ahead of us.

[cat3ch1sm]

💚| not gonna lie this black butler fic is entirely self-indulgent😃 but i hope y'all enjoy anyway lol, i have had this scenario in my head for ages.

🌵| anyways idk what to put for the summary??? ig it kinda sucks lol, it's literally just a messy drabble where you and sebastian are basically arguing with ciel while dancing

🍈| also i don't know the first thing about waltzing. or dancing at all💔

🍀| fem!reader (who is ciel's butler along w sebastian) and sfw! enjoy and ily<33

"Look, I'm simply not a dancer. That's all there is to it."

"There's no such thing as 'not a dancer,' master- if you'd only show an interest in your formal lessons long enough to learn something..."

You, Sebastian Michaelis, and Ciel Phantomhive were standing in the dimly lit ballroom, the candles on the chandelier above . It was already fairly late and outside it was dark and stormy, the rain pounding against the large, extravagant windows of the dance hall. Normally, you and Sebastian would have already put Ciel to bed- but there was a ball the next day, and the stubborn young Earl simply refused to learn to dance. He showed no interest in the lessons given to him by his instructor, and did not spend any time practicing- so you and Sebastian had been forced to take the matter into your own hands. Ciel was to dance with his betrothed, Elizabeth, and neither of you wanted to put up with the girl's whining when she discovered Ciel had no clue how to show her a good time on the dance floor.

"Well, then what an honor it is to be the first. I regret not being able to make my fiancee happy, but I just can't seem to get it. I don't believe I was born with the right feet for dancing." Ciel folded his arms across his chest adamantly, staring with a displeased expression down at the glossy marble floor.

You sighed, a little exasperated from having been at this for at least an hour with no luck. "My Lord, you have yet to even give the dance a try. Really, it's quite simple, much more so than some other routines you've had to learn in the past. Actually, you don't even need to learn a specific routine- the goal at present is to make your lady happy."

"Yes, that is correct- and pardon me, young master, but you will look quite foolish not knowing how to dance at your own ball. It is imperative your reputation not be tarnished, is it not?" Sebastian queried brightly, his words firm but his tone jovial.

"I don't deny either of your claims- but I can't do this overnight," Ciel muttered, rapping his cane on the ground impatiently. Then, offhandedly, he added, "If you two are so determined to have me dance, why don't you show me something yourselves?"

The remark was not lost on either of you, and taking it as any other request from your master, the two of you straightened up instantly and moved toward one another, assuming the base waltzing position- Sebastian's arm around your waist, your other hand in his suspended in the air, arms stretched out. Ciel's eye darted upward, and he narrowed it suspiciously, eyeing you and Sebastian cautiously.

"What are you two doing now?" he questioned, his tone begrudgingly curious although wary.

You nor Sebastian reacted, still remaining in your position. "Did you not ask us to show you something ourselves?" you asked, small smile on your lips as you peered down at the boy from over Sebastian's shoulder. "We are only adhering to your words."

"Wha- that wasn't an actual request!" Ciel sputtered, gaping at the two of you with appall. "What will you even dance to? There's no one with music prepared."

Now it was Sebastian who turned, gazing at Ciel slyly out of the outer corner of his eye. "Of course, my Lord- but a real dancer needs not music one can truly hear." With that, he turned back around to face you, fixing you with his usual coy grin before nodding once.

As you and Sebastian began to dance, movements fluid and quick around the dance floor, you glanced at Ciel over Sebastian's shoulder. "To be completely honest, it isn't even necessary to learn the dance in it's entirety- your objective should be to make your lady happy. It won't look good if Lady Elizabeth is displeased."

Ciel only made a face, and you only smiled wryly as you and Sebastian continued to go through the dance, waltzing to nothing but silence.

"I'm sorry I can't please my Lady properly," Ciel griped, still watching the two of you with impatience. "Hmph- even she knows I can't dance."

Sebastian smiled his usual calm smile and lifted you up by the waist while you put your hands on his shoulders as he spun you around in the air before letting you down. Ciel grimaced as the demon butler twirled you around once more before dipping you to the ground. "Master, perhaps it would do you some good to practice rather than complain." His tone was amicable as he spoke, and you nodded in Ciel's direction, who continued to pout as he begrudgingly watched you both dance. You continued on in silence for a while, the rain pouring outside- and abruptly, a damp breeze came through the mansion, extinguishing around half of the candles on the chandelier hanging above the ballroom. However, the sudden dimming of the room did not deter you nor Sebastian as you this time dipped him to the ground before continuing to glide around the room, movements creative and fluid but controlled.

"What kind of dance routine is this, anyway?" Ciel questioned, his tone agitated. "Do you both really expect me to do this with Lizzie? That's impossible."

"Sire- you've been held at gunpoint, survived the fire in which you were orphaned, and taken down countless enemies- but somehow, a dance is a trivial matter?" You chuckled lightly. "Don't be so closed-minded, Master... if you would only try..."

"I have tried," Ciel replied curtly, rapping his cane against the floor impatiently. "It seems to be the one thing I don't excel at first thing." Then, under his breath to himself: "It's a bit irritating, really..."

"Then-" Sebastian held you by the waist as he spun you around the floor -"why don't you join us?" Following the offer, a startling clap of thunder sounded outside, and lightning lit the entire sky white for a split second. You and Sebastian remained unruffled, casually continuing to dance with the storm raging outside the window.

"Goodness." Ciel shook his head before straightening up, his cane tapping gently on the floor. "You two are insufferable. I'll be going to bed now- don't bother coming after me. It seems you are already occupied." And with a few more raps of his cane, Ciel was gone.

Sebastian's eyes followed Ciel as his silhouette faded. "What a shame," he remarked absently. "But I believe he did request we not follow him, hm?"

"An order is an order," you replied stoically, and you and Sebastian danced well into the night, long after the clouds had cleared.

[msookyspooky]

I have re-watched the lost boys and I'm about to make it ✨everybody's problem✨

Perhaps you could make a star like s.o for sev or a star like person joining the hooker clan? 👀

Oooh I like this! I wouldn't mind an entire crossover actually (Hooker Clan makes there way to Santa Carla and run into David's group or Michael gets turned by Mae instead of Caleb and Caleb follows Star after his family goes on vacation and David fucks with him etc) maybe one day! I'd love to make this a whole one shot but for now this'll do.

I know this is supposed to be a 'Star like person' but I'm using Star herself as the face claim/insert.

Funny thing is, Jami Gertz and Bill Paxton were a couple in Twister so seeing them together in that movie (Even if it didn't last) doesn't make Star x Severen feel that far fetched to me! Or someone like her at least! For now, we'll do a Star inspired reader instead of Star herself.

Anyways useless facts over lets get to it-

Star inspired Reader x Severen • If Caleb stayed • At a County Fair/Carnival/Boardwalk at Night (Could even be the Boardwalk in Santa Carlo)

- The way your skirt shimmered as you practically glided around the crowd, the mysterious aura that surrounded you as you made your way through the lit up attractions and huge crowds all by your lonesome self instantly made inhuman eyes stare at you from the shadows. You stuck out among all the other people there like a sore thumb. A wild, free spirited, ethereal vibe about you that drew them in as a target for the night.

- I actually think Mae turned you or Homer. Severen may think you're breathtaking but he's not one to turn just anybody. Jesse definitely wouldn't. DB maybe but unlikely. Caleb would by accident but Mae is usually there to prevent that. I actually think either Homer turned you pretended to be a lost kid, eager to replace Mae and you fell for it like the gentle soul you were...Or...Mae saw a kinship in you. You're just so effortlessly cool and carefree and you're near her age and she deeply wants a friendship with you much like she impulsively wanted a relationship with Caleb.

- They won your trust when Mae or Homer introduced you to their family once you 'found them' at the carnival. They were intimidating but also...Intriguing people. Severen didn't hesitate to shoot you a coy smirk and crack a flirty joke as if he already knew you, Jesse didn't pay you much mind and DB asked you very personal questions "Where are your folks? Who's pickin you up, sugar? Did you come with anyone?" She was so disarmingly motherly despite her gruff exterior you felt inclind to tell her as you all walked through the crowds together. Caleb seemed the most quiet and the most apprehensive while Mae tried sharing cotton candy with him. Homer was very outgoing with you. After all, he seemed like a sweet 12 yr old kid. They were addictive. Doing crazy things that screamed fun, acting like they owned the night, they felt familiar yet dangerous all at the same time.

- You couldn't help it when Mae invited you to go look at a fortune teller booth alone together on the outskirts or when Homer begged you to stay and ride some rides with him. That he knew a really great one but you had to follow a shortcut.

- You were bit, you ran away from them scared to death but you swore every turn one of them was there. Severen finally nabbed you behind the funhouse. You were dragged to an unoccupied trailer as you realized everyone were definitely not normal. They argued amongst each other, blaming Mae or Homer for turning you but it was ultimately decided to let you stay...You didn't have much say so in the matter.

- Star was a half vampire in Lost Boys something I don't think Jesse would be as lenient about as David was. You being like Star; free spirited, whimsical, kind hearted, protective (especially of animals and kids like she was Laddie) but also fun loving and adventurous (She had FUN on the back of David's bike! She joined their group for a reason even if the reason wasn't entirely her choice; she was lured in by them) had you both fitting in and not fitting into the Hooker Clan. You were like Mae however you were much more...Fun! You may not lead the fun but you were right alongside them for the fun while she tended to hang back or go off alone with Caleb. You both bonded though, enjoying the night and dancing together under the moonlight just because.

- Severen surprisingly took an interest in you. You were the opposite of him. Your quiet and relaxed demeanor just made you more interesting to him. You felt an attraction to him bc he's just so infectious with his high spirit and thrill seeking personality.

- Eventually you kill but only if it's a 'bad' person. A punk hurting animals, a pos following women at night, someone bullying little kids or a bigot hurting those different than them etc. Jesse truly doesn't give a shit as long as you kill to feed and don't slow them down. You definitely argue with them whenever they get some younger person or defenseless older person and if it's a child; you are up in arms with them. It definitely causes conflict but Jesse secretly respects you standing up to him and standing your ground just like Star didn't hesitate to scold the entire group over Michael. He won't admit it but he'll make a choice to try and not get crying scared children to 'keep you from bellyaching'.

- You actually showed them a thing or two. Easily going into crowds of teens and young people, having fun and dancing around. Camouflaging yourself among humans easily. Jesse and DB both weren't ones to mingle among prey. Homer tried but usually hated being nice to people that thought he was a kid. Mae and Caleb were like a more awkward version of Jesse and Mae, they didn't fit in with the crowds...That's where Severen came in. You and him easily made your way through party crowds to scout out prey. Dancing together, snatching a drink here and there, him doing daredevil shit bc he just can't control himself and you just grin and cheer him on.

- You and Severen complimented each other in a yin and yang sort of way.

- You made him trinkets you crafted into pins or bracelets; that had him smitten with you. In turn, he got you anything you might like on his nightly walks. An antique bottle, vintage jewelry, anything sparkly you could wear just to name a few examples.

- You aren't one to fight people unless you're really pushed in a corner so anytime anyone calls you a 'hippie freak' or leers at you; Severen is your guard dog ready to fight for you.

- Jesse and DB find it comical the big bad Severen Van Sickle got with a whimsical, free spirited, mildmannered s/o that wears long sparkly skirts paired with his leather jacket (or a spar) regularly.

- It's never dull with you and Severen. Either his dragging you along on an adventure or you're grounding him by laying under the Stars together.