#so sick of reading though i’ve been researching shit all weekend

[toasttedbaguels]

03:19 AM and it’s beginning to look like I either have to be awake for over 24 hours OR get a referral on this when i’m fairly certain i can’t do if i wanna pass his year. not sure though.

[julemmaes]

Honey - part three

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre roommates au

A/N: famous last words: I can finish this is in two hours. six hours laters and I feel like I’ve been beaten up by a gang of bigass old faes if you know what I mean.

IT CONTAINS SMUT, not suited for readers under 18

Please be kind I fucking hate my smut, if it’s disgusting just don’t comment on it cause I could hit my head on the wall several times

masterlist

Word count: 7,519

Aelin's scream was like a stab to the brain, "Get up you nasty little bitch!"

"Ace! Why don't you try with sweet Ellie?" retorted Lysandra.

Elide didn't even have the strength to open her eyes or move from the fetal position she was in, curled up with a pillow pushed so hard against her belly that she wouldn't have been surprised if it had somehow damaged her internal organs, "Please leave."

The two didn't seem to hear her.

"Sweet?" Aelin huffed, "But you did see her last night, right?"

Elide opened one eye, seeing that they had both sat down at the end of the bed. She felt the cracks tugging at her eyelid and grunted, pressing her face into the pillow. She wanted to die. And she wanted Manon to come and free her from those two supposed friends who she knew were about to remind her of her misadventures.

"Except for what happened before we left," Aelin winked, placing a hand on her foot. Elide withdrew it, not wanting to feel physical touch of any kind at that moment. "I would have been willing to break up with Rowan so I could get between Kyllian and you, honestly."

Elide grunted again, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I'm begging you girls, you need to get out before I throw up again."

And it was true, she would throw up if they didn't stop talking. Plus, Elide didn't care in the slightest what the drunk her had done. She hated her so much.

Lysandra giggled and she felt it as she climbed between the covers until she was settled next to her on the pillows, "Between her and Lorcan though, no?"

The cry of disgust that erupted from Aelin and the all too loud laugh from the other didn't make Elide register the words right away, but as soon as she realised what they had said, her stomach began to twist and turn, and not like when Lorcan accidentally brushed her hand or when he put his hand on her thigh during movie nights. Oh no.

With a movement she didn't know she had the physical skills to make, she shifted the covers off her body and launched herself into the hallway, slamming her hand against the bathroom door and throwing herself to the floor in front of the toilet before the highly concentrated alcoholic contents in her stomach spilled onto the floor.

As she vomited and Lysandra tied up her hair, massaging her back, Elide felt her heart break slowly. She wanted to turn around, to ask Aelin what had happened, or maybe not. She groaned as another gag shook her body and her eyes filled with tears once more as she puked what could only be alcohol.

"How do you still have stuff in your stomach?" muttered Aelin from outside the bathroom door.

Elide didn't blame her, vomit was disgusting and she was particularly sensitive to the sound of gagging. The only reason Lysandra wasn't the least bit uncomfortable was her younger sister Evangeline, who she had practically raised without anyone's help. Whatever came out of a person's body, their friend had already seen it in all shapes and colours.

Elide cursed herself for thinking such a thing while she was bent over the toilet throwing up, because it pushed her over the edge one more time and a sob wracked her body, "Fuck-" she managed to mutter between spits.

"I thought you weren't going to barf any more after last night," Lys said, continuing to rub her back.

"True," Aelin mumbled a little louder, "did you keep drinking after?"

Elide managed to turn her head towards the door, seeing that her friend was sitting on the floor just outside the bathroom. She grimaced as a gust of air that smelled like vomit reached her nose, "After what?"

"You and Lorcan left after you threw up," Lys explained to her. Elide didn't bother turning towards her, she didn't have the energy, "And you threw up so much Ellie, everywhere. It's weird that you have anything else to reject."

It wasn't weird at all considering the only thing Elide remembered was the amounts of alcohol she had ingested. She'd started just before seven with straight tequila, desperate to see how indifferent people were to the biggest catastrophic problems in human history, and everyone knew she couldn't handle alcohol even in small amounts. But Elide was also known to be the type who could drink for hours without ever feeling sick, if she now found herself bent over the toilet the next morning, it meant she had gone too far.

"I don't remember anything."

"It's okay, don't worry about it," Aelin said and Elide felt a shiver run through her body at the hint of mischief in her voice. She braced herself mentally to hear how much she'd actually whored out the night before, "We're here to fix the memory loss."

Lysandra made a disgusted noise as Elide flushed the toilet and the water stirred underneath them, but she patted her shoulders and pulled herself up, "You need to take a shower first though. Because you smell like death."

"Geez, thanks," Elide murmured as she began to undress.

The grin that appeared on Aelin's face made her hands freeze around the hem of her shirt. The other arched an eyebrow, looking into her eyes, "What? Lorcan is the only one you can flash?"

Elide closed her eyes, bringing her hands to her face and then let go a scream of frustration.

"Exactly."

Oh, god.

"I remember..." Elide scoffed, running her hands through her hair. When her fingers reached the tips, she was horrified to find they were encrusted with what was surely vomit from the night before. "Fuck."

Lysandra snickered beside her, "Why were you so drunk that you didn't realise what you were doing so damn early?"

Elide looked at her, and although she knew the question was only asked to tease her more, there was a note of concern in her tone. Her shoulders sagged a little and she shook her head, starting to undress undisturbed, "I set out to research a few things and the world is a shitty place and there was nothing I could do in the immediate future to save us all so I got drunk."

"Sounds like alcoholism," Aelin joked.

Both Lysandra and Elide laughed, "If you knew what I found out you'd get drunk too," the latter added.

"Send everything my way." the blonde winked at her, and then they went out, leaving her alone to wash away the sins of the night before and letting her mind travel. And Elide's mind travelled far too much as she racked her brains to remember Lorcan's reactions to a naked her.

After her friends had told her everything that had happened the night before. From her taking her clothes off in front of her best friend, to him getting stuck in their bathroom and calling Aelin for help, to her dancing with Kyllian specifically to make her roommate jealous - or so the drunk her seemed to have justified her actions - to Fenrys saving her from what was sure to end up being just casual sex that would only widen the gap between her and Lorcan.

Gap that apparently wasn't as pronounced as she thought.

Aelin and Lysandra had told her about the way he had pushed his way through the crowd and joined Elide on the dance floor. The way they had danced to one of their favourite songs until they had been on the verge of kissing.

Elide had never been so relieved to know that she'd thrown up on someone. And that her plan to attract Lorcan had worked.

She was cooking now, thinking about how bad it would have been for her to find out they'd kissed without having even the slightest recollection of it happening, when the front door opened and the boy who was the object of her dreams walked into the kitchen.

He stopped in the doorway, looking at her with the most emotionless face Elide had ever seen him wear.

"Hello, handsome." she murmured, continuing to cook.

Lorcan stood still in the threshold for a while without saying anything, as if to sort the situation out. Then, without taking his eyes off what she was doing, he took off his jacket and shoes and walked into the kitchen, "How are you feeling?"

Elide had her back to him as she washed some tomatoes, "Just a bit of a headache. I threw up again when I woke up, but other than that I'm fine."

"Did you drink some water? Had breakfast?" he asked her.

Elide shook her head looking at him, "I woke up after noon, Aelin and Lysandra came over." then frowned, "I think it's their fault I threw up."

Lorcan chuckled, "Sure, absolutely." then he gathered his hair into a messy bun and Elide focused on the way the muscles of his biceps tensed every time he pulled on the elastic, "It's not the alcoholic coma from last night at all."

Elide gathered some courage and taking a deep breath, said, "About last night-"

"We don't have to talk about it," Lorcan immediately interrupted her.

She looked up at him, trying not to show any emotion, trying to read his on that sculptural face that remained impassive. Then, seeing the way he was looking at her, she came to a conclusion.

She arched an eyebrow, plastering a grin on her face, "Does this mean you didn't like my tits?"

Lorcan turned red in the face before stuttering, "No. I mean, yes! No, fuck. Shit... I don't know."

Elide chuckled and began to dress their salad, "You've never seen a pair of tits before?" she asked knowing full well how untrue that was.

When she had moved into the flat, both she and he had had their own wild nights out where they brought home a different partner every weekend. On one occasion, Elide had been stunned when she came out of her room and bumped into a girl she had spent the night with a few weeks earlier. The girl had only bid her good morning, winking, before returning to Lorcan's room.

"No, it's not that," he muttered, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So surely you'll have other samples to compare my boobs to and you'll be able to tell me if they're above average," she continued, prolonging this gentle torture.

He sat down, both elbows resting on the table, and rested his chin on his clasped hands. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds, then whispered, "What are you doing?"

"I'm making our lunch," she replied innocently.

She heard him breathe through his nose, "Why are we talking about your tits, I meant?"

"Uh," she smiled, casting him another quick glance, "I didn't think you were so grossed out that you can't even handle a conversation about them."

The frown on his face went deeper and deeper. He remained silent for so long that Elide thought he would never say anything again, that she would never get his thoughts on her breasts, but when she served the salad, sitting down in front of him, he finally spoke.

"It's not that," he repeated, looking away, "they're very nice. Balanced." he began to eat undisturbed and Elide grimaced in amusement, finding a way to keep the conversation going.

"Balanced? What are they? An economic system?"

Lorcan clenched his jaw, setting his fork down on his plate and looking into her face again. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, that she was risking losing her sanity, but she had to know, had to-

"They're perfect and, maybe they are because they're attached to you, but they're probably the most beautiful tits I've ever seen."

Elide's brain shut down. And he seemed to realise it too because the shadow of a smile began to form on his lips.

Lorcan leaned forward on the table and her eyes snapped to his arms. Fingers flexing, interlocking, caught her attention completely. She returned her gaze to his, feeling her body heat up as he resumed speaking. "If I'm going to be completely honest... If you want the details, Elide," the way he said her name made her most intimate part clench around nothing, "I've never seen such nice, small nipples and that pink?" he shut his eyes, moaning as he brought one of the tomatoes to his mouth and wrapped his lips around the fork.

Elide swallowed the mouthful that had been in her mouth for over a minute and nearly choked when he opened his eyes again and they were darker than normal if that was possible.

She looked away, too many feelings building up inside her, but crossed her legs, trying to relieve some of the tension there.

"Wasn't that enough, Ellie?" he asked in a rough voice, biting into an olive, making sure she saw the way his lips closed around it.

She swallowed again, "No, it was fine..." she cleared her throat when it came out too weak, "Thanks for the feedback."

Lorcan let go a throaty chuckle, "The pleasure is all mine."

***

Like every Sunday evening, the whole group had gathered at the twins' house. And that night everyone was there, although Vaughan and Vesta, along with Aedion and Sorrel, had gone out into the back yard a few hours ago and had not yet returned. Elide suspected they'd taken to smoking.

Those left in the house were playing one of the most popular games, "I feel like."

The game had no real objective, other than to embarrass people or get them to confess to extreme or obscene sexual acts. It was simply a matter of drawing a card, reading what it said and giving it to the person you thought had done the closest thing to what was described on the card. The only real rule was that you had to tell the whole story of what happened if the card you were handed told the truth.

Quite often the game would be interrupted because one of the two sides of the various couples would cheat, change the rules and instead of passing it on to the appropriate person, they would pass it on to their partner as an invitation to lock themselves in the first spare room they could find to experiment with what was asked by the game.

The cards could range from as basic things as "I feel like your first time was in a public restroom." to as a bit more hardcore as "I feel like you got fisted in the woods."

And in that moment, Elide had a strong feeling that Rowan and Aelin would soon be going home.

"Oh my fucking god," Rowan muttered as he read the words on the card, turning red from head to toe. He looked up at Aelin, swallowing and making his adam's apple bob, "Where do you even find these games?"

Elide giggled beside him, "There's a girl on the internet who updates the cards every month and puts them up for sale, we take turns to see who has to buy them each time."

"Oh god," he said shaking his head. When he slid the card in Aelin's direction, the girl leaned towards him to leave a soft kiss on his lips and when they broke away they were both smiling. Aelin read what was written on the card and for a second it seemed like the colour drained from her face, but then she blinked and cleared her throat, looking at Rowan with wide eyes.

"Maybe we should go away. To try it out." she murmured, so quietly that only those on the couch with them heard her.

Elide looked up at the boy next to her, or rather, behind her, to see if he was listening, but he seemed lost in thought. He had been absentmindedly stroking her arm since they had settled there, and Elide didn't think she had ever been so relaxed in her life.

She and Lorcan were sitting at one end of the sofa, opposite to Rowan and Aelin, her between his legs and with her back against his chest. Every time one of them laughed, their bodies moved closer together and now she had her head resting on the part of his chest between his neck and shoulder.

She was home.

Fenrys and Connall, across the living room, sitting on the floor, booed.

"You can't pass them all on to her!" complained Lysandra.

Aelin didn't even look at her as she spoke, her eyes always fixed on Rowan's, as if they were having a telepathic conversation, "Lys, shut up."

Her friend gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth.

"I say we vote to kick them out of the room," Asterin said, in exactly the same position she was in, but between her boyfriend's legs. Half the people in the room raised their hands to the sky, making Aelin roll her eyes.

Fenrys nodded, always ready to back Asterin up in whatever situation they were in, "It's starting to smell like Rowaelin in here."

Lorcan chuckled behind her, knocking her forward. And as the others lost themselves in the chatter, Elide shifted her gaze to Manon, who sat in the armchair next to the couch, one hand in Dorian's hair, who sat with his head resting on the armrest.

Her friend's bright eyes sparkled with malice as she arched an eyebrow and gestured to the boy she was practically sitting on. Elide felt her cheeks blush, but smiled naively at her, pretending not to know what she was alluding to. Manon smiled back.

Elide had never spoken openly to her about Lorcan, not in that way at least, but she knew Manon knew - in fact, now that she thought about it, she had never had to do that with anyone. Everyone had been rather quick to catch on that. Everyone except Lorcan.

The hand on her arm stopped, clinging completely against her skin and Elide had to force herself not to look at him, but then he lowered himself onto her and whispered in her ear, "Ellie."

She turned her head just enough to look at him and his lips brushed her cheek, so briefly that she thought she had imagined it. Lorcan had pulled back and was now looking into her eyes, "Your turn."

She blinked and turned towards the others, only realising at that moment that all eyes were on them. She felt her face burn, but she nodded, putting a hand on Lorcan's knee and pushing herself forward, rubbing her ass on the crotch of his trousers. She'd been doing this all night, all night teasing him, just as he was teasing her, brushing the side of the breasts from time to time.

And each time, Lorcan would burst into a coughing fit and move further back, which only gave Elide a chance to grind even harder against him in an attempt to regain the comfortable position they were in before.

As she settled back into her seat, she met Fenrys' gaze, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. She lowered her eyes to the maroon card in her hands quickly, shimming her hips between his legs. Lorcan's hands ended on her shoulders and she looked up at him, batting her eyelids like a fawn.

"Stop moving around so much," he grumbled.

She smiled gently and then took up reading. She hadn't touched alcohol that night, for obvious reasons, but she still found it hard to understand what was written there when Lorcan's fingers began to draw imaginary lines across her bare skin.

"I feel like..." she whispered, her eyes going wide. She looked across the sofa at Rowan.

The friend gave her a chuckle, "I told you they seemed a bit extreme."

I feel like you performed a titjob on someone while being eaten out.

Before she could realise what she was doing, she said, "Can I give myself the card or...?"

Dorian turned a quizzical look on her, "You know you have to-"

Fenrys shrieked something unintelligible, but that stopped Dorian. Manon above them clenched her hands into fists, her eyes half-closed at the sudden commotion, "I haven't killed you yet just because-"

"Yeah yeah, just because of Asterin, I get it," Fenrys replied moving a hand midair, his gaze never leaving Elide's, who in a moment of clarity realised what Dorian was about to say. What the blond said only served to confirm her fear, "But Elide just confessed to doing whatever is written on it and I want to know every detail."

She felt Lorcan stiffen behind her and then Elide realised something else entirely. He must have read what was written on the card.

"So?" pressed Aelin, leaning over Rowan and snatching the card from Elide's hands. She opened her mouth wide with an amused expression, then put on a pout, looking at her boyfriend, "These are the things I sometimes wish you'd be a little more open about."

Rowan arched an eyebrow, reading the card in turn, "We can do those two things at the same time and without anyone else having to see you naked."

Lysandra, next to them, picked up the card, "Oh, Aedion and I did that too. Although it was a normal blowjob, no titty job." she exclaimed happily.

One thing that pleased Elide greatly was the fact that no one in that room would judge her for what she did in the bedroom and who she did it with. Also because there was a high probability that they had done it too.

And slowly the card was passed among all the members of their group and when it reached Fenrys and Asterin, the girl winked at Elide, murmuring a sensual, "I've never done it, but I'm sure it wouldn't hurt." Fenrys winked behind her, intertwining their hands. Asterin's smile only grew wider, before she added, "You have our numbers."

Elide blushed, but smiled anyway, nodding.

Everyone began to talk about the various possibilities, as they did during every turn, and the card finally passed from Dorian and Manon and the two exchanged only a glance before giving the card to Lorcan.

Lorcan who was taking deep breaths one after the other and had his eyes closed. Elide had never seen him so focused in her life. She noticed the way he contracted and relaxed his jaw repeatedly and frowned.

Was he alright?

She ran a finger over his thigh to get his attention, tracing a line from his knee to where his leg touched her hip and Lorcan let go a shuddering breath, opening his eyes slightly and tightening his grip on her shoulders, "I don't think you should do that." his voice so hoarse and deep that Elide felt her stomach knot. She didn't understand what he was referring to.

And then she felt it.

Hard and... thick against her ass.

She opened her eyes wide, pointing them at him, and held her breath. She had to stop herself from opening her mouth in surprise, but she couldn't stop herself when her hips pushed against Lorcan's now obvious erection.

Elide had never been so happy to hear Fenrys' laughter as she was at that moment, because if it hadn't been for the sudden noise, the moans that escaped them both would have been heard all too well and neither of them would have been able to look at anyone else in the room for the rest of their lives.

Lorcan swallowed, breathing through his nostrils, and his gaze fell to her lips. Her eyes did the same and she didn't care that they were among everyone and would have everyone's eyes on them if they did exactly what Elide was thinking, because his lips parted slightly and he whispered her name and she was lost.

Without thinking about it for another second, Elide turned just enough to have her face directly in front of his and closed her eyes, feeling his lips brush hers. She released a breath she didn't know she was holding, "Lorcan,"

And then she kissed him, and it was exactly as she had always dreamed it would be, as his lips moved with hers and they tasted and breathed from each other. A sound that Elide had never made in her life rose up her throat as Lorcan shifted and with a sharp movement of his hips turned her fully towards him and now she was on her knees in front of him, both of them breathing heavily as they looked into each other's eyes.

Someone coughed in the room and she heard Aelin whisper a weak "fucking finally", but Elide didn't give a shit.

She placed her hands on Lorcan's face, tilting his head back so she could reach him better. The second his hands landed on her hips, their lips collided again in a fierce kiss and his tongue found its way into her mouth.

The first touch of their tongues was like having a thousand fireworks explode in her mouth.

"Okay, it's time to join the others," Manon murmured.

Elide heard Fenrys mutter, "Please not on the couch, there are guest rooms upstairs."

Lorcan pulled away from her just enough to see what was going on around them and her hands slid around his neck, ending in his hair as she admired the line of his cheekbones and the way his lashes caressed his skin every time he closed his eyes.

God, he was beautiful.

"Which one can we use?" asked Lorcan as he looked at Fenrys.

Elide's eyes went wide, causing him to turn towards her. She ran a thumb over his lower lip, smirking, "So sure of yourself."

Without missing a beat, Lorcan mimicked her grin and squeezed her hips, "You don't want to?"

Elide smiled, turning towards her friends, stopping to look at Fenrys, "The second on the left right?"

When the owner of the house winked at her, nodding, she stood up, pulling Lorcan with her, who had a confused look on his face, "Why do you know that?"

She had the decency to blush, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs, "You don't want to know."

Lysandra burst out laughing as everyone resumed their seats on the floor or the couch, "You really don't."

Elide tugged at him more insistently, not looking at Lorcan's reaction to those words. She just wanted to get to the room and lock herself in with him.

When she felt his hand settle on her hip and slide down to her ass cheek, where he paused to give it a squeeze, she almost turned and slammed him against the wall just so she could continue kissing him how she needed to.

They arrived in front of the door and she stopped with her fingers on the handle, once inside there would be no stopping. There would be no point of return.

His fingers brushed her cheek and she turned to face him, who now wore a ravenous, excited look, but Elide could see the concern and hesitation in taking the next step, "We don't have to do anything, Ellie."

She nodded, because she knew that was the case, but squeezed his hand to emphasize what he said, "But I want to."

"Good thing, cause the thought of you fucking those two gave me some ideas."

She grinned, placing a hand on his chest, "I wasn't the one doing the titty work, but we can always try."

Lorcan groaned softly at the knowledge of Elide licking another girl and then pushed the door open, backing in and taking his-

Whatever Elide was at that moment to him, it wasn't important.

The only thing that was important was his lips on hers.

The difference in height wasn't making it easy for him, and when he leaned down even further, never breaking the kiss, to run his hands under her knees and pull her up, Elide seemed to understand that right away and, pulling away just enough to jump into his arms, they found themselves on each other in seconds.

Lorcan bit her lower lip, making her moan, and when he moved to her jaw, nipping lightly at her skin, Elide threw her head back, pushing her hips against his and drawing a groan from both of them.

He immediately took the opportunity to latch his lips onto the smooth, quivering skin of her neck, feeling the bed behind his knees and sitting up, letting her straddle him. His hands moved up her legs, caressing her inner thighs, but never really getting close to where she needed him most.

Elide began to grope his chest, grazing the skin of his arms, but never staying in one spot, until Lorcan began to suck at the bare skin between her neck and shoulder and she nudged him slightly.

He quickly pulled away, panting, "What?"

There were too many layers. Keeping her eyes fixed on his, Elide lowered her hands to the hem of her shirt and slipped it off in one swift movement. She smiled smugly when she could finally see Lorcan's reaction to her bare tits.

His eyes were slightly wider than usual and his pupils so dilated that Elide realised that she had never noticed that Lorcan's eye colour was not black, but just a very dark brown. When he looked at her, the words died in her throat.

"I love it when you don't wear a bra," he murmured, reaching up to her and brushing her lips with his, "But I love even more the way you shiver every time I do this."

Elide didn't have a chance to dwell on the way he'd said love, because without her noticing, his hands had found their place on her waist and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out in pleasure when he brushed the sides of her breasts with his thumbs.

He pushed himself further against her, brushing his lips over her ear, "When we're alone and you don't have to hold back, I want you to scream my name." and then he moved quickly, leaving only a light kiss on her shoulder before his lips closed around a sensitive nipple.

With the first sweep of his tongue around the hard bead, Elide whimpered, pushing her hips down against his and making him moan into her chest. She brought her hands into his hair, clenching and pulling each time his teeth bit or scraped the sensitive skin around the nipple.

When he seemed to want to move on to the other breast, Elide shook her head, pulling his hair back to its roots and forcing her mouth against his, making him grunt. She had to feel him.

"Lorcan," she breathed, between kisses, "I need to touch you."

One of her hands slipped between the two of them, palming him through the sweatpants that did little to hide Lorcan's huge boner. He moaned against her chin, "Fuck."

They pulled apart again and when he had stripped off his shirt, Elide didn't waste a moment and pressed her bare chest against his, causing him to fall back onto the mattress.

Lorcan had other ideas though, because in one smooth motion she found herself lying on her back, his gentle weight pressing her against the covers and his bright smile lighting up his face. He left a kiss on her nose, on her lips and then down to the split in the middle of her breasts and her eyes rolled back in her head as a flashback from two nights before appeared in her head, of Lorcan doing the same thing with his eyes as they danced.

"Can I take these off?" he asked her, once he reached her hips where he was leaving kisses light as feathers.

Elide was breathing raggedly, but nodded when she understood he was talking about her leggings. Still keeping her eyes closed, she lifted her hips off the mattress, closing her fists around the covers as her bottoms disappeared along with her socks and the cold air hit her bare skin.

Now only the thin fabric of her black panties separated her from achieving what she wanted.

That and Lorcan's slacks.

"Ellie." she heard him as he came back on top of her, one knee between her legs to keep his balance. She licked her lip, opening her eyes and keeping her gaze fixed on him, on that perfect face.

"Do you have a condom?" she asked in a whisper, as if afraid the answer would be no. She had them, but they were downstairs, in her purse, and she had no desire to leave the room right then.

Lorcan arched an eyebrow, "I'm not having sex with you tonight, Elide."

She frowned, folding her arms under her and propping herself up on her elbows, "What does that mean?"

"That I'm not completely sober," he said, leaning his head towards her chest, keeping his eyes fixed in hers, "And the first time it'll be inside you," he murmured in a rougher voice, placing a light kiss on the nipple he hadn't licked before, "I want it to be at a time when I'm lucid and can remember all the noises and moans you make." and then he gave the same attention to her other breast, pushing her against the mattress one more time, until Elide was a squirming mess under him and deemed his treatment sufficient.

"Now I'm going to slip these off," Lorcan murmured, grazing a finger along the hem of her panties, and Elide shuddered, "and touch you. Here." the same finger slid across her covered folds, starting at her clit and following her slit to her entrance. "Already so wet for me."

Elide thrashed on the bed, moaning softly as he applied a little more pressure, "Stop teasing, we'll have time for that when we get home." she managed to toss out between shaky breaths.

"Understood ma'am." he taunted, grabbing the edges of the thing and pulling it down. The sound that burst from him was completely animalistic and threatened to make Elide come before he even really touched her. "So beautiful." he said, kneeling in front of her.

Lorcan's hands wrapped around her ankles and he pushed her legs up, placing her feet on the edge of the bed, until she was left with her knees bent and her pussy at his full disposal. Elide risked looking down between her legs and her eyes locked into his as he lowered himself onto her and smiled.

The way her chest rose and fell made her tits bounce and Lorcan seemed to appreciate it, but he didn't seem to be planning to do anything. Elide tipped her head back, whispering in a weak voice, "Do something, please."

He laughed and her muscles flexed, clenching around nothing. It was at that moment that she felt him, his breath on the most sensitive part of her body. "I'm going to make you cum so fast you won't have time to count to a hundred."

Lorcan's fingers came off her ankles and went to part her lips, making her feel the warm air of his breathe even more. He parted them until he was satisfied and Elide lowered her gaze just as his tongue made contact with her throbbing core. A rush of pleasure coursed through her body, making her legs tremble, "Lor," she moaned.

"Mh, El," he closed his lips around her clit, pressing his tongue against the pearl over and over, until Elide repeated his name like a prayer, "So good. You taste so good."

Her hands ended up in his hair again, pushing his face against her sex, seeking more. She began to move her hips, following the strokes of his mouth on her, but one of Lorcan's arms slithered around her pelvis and pinned her to the bed, lapping her juices as with his thumb he reached to massage her clit with such precision that Elide knew that whatever she would do on her own in the future, she would never be able to match how he was making her feel.

Elide cried out in pleasure, bringing a hand to her mouth as she felt his tongue thrust into her and an all too familiar warmth build up in the pit of her stomach.

She brought one hand up to massage the nipple he had only kissed and made a choked sound, her hips jerking upwards.

Lorcan moaned against her, a new sound, different from any he'd made so far, and Elide couldn't help herself. She pulled herself up onto her elbows, continuing to touch herself as he kept sending jolts of pleasure with every thrust of his tongue and every caress of his thumb, and the sight of him eating her out would have been enough to push her over the edge, but the hand wrapped around his thick, throbbing cock pumping relentlessly was the thing that made her eyes roll back and explode as the rope inside her snapped. Her legs gave out, falling over the edge of the bed and finding their place on Lorcan's shoulders.

Her mouth gaped open in a silent scream as her whole body trembled in pleasure as wave after wave surged through her and her back arched so wide she broke away from the bed.

Lorcan didn't stop touching her, but he pulled his mouth away from her, still massaging her clit until Elide was too sensitive and with a groan she tightened a hand around his wrist to push him away. She heard him grunt and then moan, but she didn't have the strength to lower her gaze to what she knew very well was a cumming Lorcan.

She was breathing hard, one hand on her stomach to rest and the other still clasped around his.

Every now and then her body was shaken by a spasm, but she managed to calm down after a few minutes and close her aching legs. She rolled onto her side, letting go of his wrist.

Lorcan was also breathless and kept his forehead pressed against the edge of the bed.

Elide felt a tinge of pain tingle through her heart. She pulled herself up just enough to look into his face, "Lor?"

She reached out a hand towards him, placing it on his shoulder, at which he raised his head and looked at her with bright eyes and an open mouth, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, smiling at him and falling back into the now unmade blankets, "Never been better."

He chuckled deeply, moving from his position on the floor and causing at least two joints in his legs to crack.

The moment Elide saw he'd managed to get at least halfway out of his trousers, her throat went dry. And her brain forgot how to talk when she noticed he wasn't wearing boxers. Elide knew Lorcan often went commando, but seeing it with her own eyes was a different story. Seeing him, was a completely different thing from feeling him against her.

She swallowed. She'd intended to scold him for taking all the fun out of both of them by touching himself, but maybe Elide had overestimated her abilities, because the idea of having to give Lorcan a blowjob when his dick was like this-

"If you keep looking at me like that I'm not sure I can keep the promise I made to myself," he murmured in a serious voice.

Elide looked up at his face and sighed as she saw his eyes as dark as before, just moments before he pulled off his clothes completely and lay down beside her on the other side of the bed.

It didn't take her even half a second to wrap herself around him and press her body against Lorcan's side as he draped an arm around her shoulders.

His fingertips began to trace idle lines on her shoulder as he had done only half an hour before on the couch in front of everyone.

A satisfied and surprised laugh came out of her. Lorcan put his hand under her chin and when she looked up at him he had an equally satisfied smile on his lips. He pushed her head towards his, causing their mouths to collide in a brief kiss that was chaste in comparison to what they had just done and when they broke away, Elide frowned, "I didn't like you touching yourself without giving me a chance to enjoy this in turn."

The corner of Lorcan's mouth turned up, "Sorry honey, but seeing you naked like that on the bed for me has been my dream for a little too long and I was sure I would have come in zero time if I had let you touch me. It would have been embarrassing." he whispered, caressing her cheek.

Elide tried to suppress a smile, failing miserably. She decided to tease him a little, "I thought I heard you say you lasted long in bed, didn't you?"

He chuckled, "You know it's hard to rely on stamina when the girl in question is you."

At those words she felt a particularly strong surge of affection for the boy who had given her one of the most intense orgasms she had ever received and she pushed herself closer against him, making her bare breasts feel against his skin.

Lorcan turned slightly towards her, looking into her face.

He looked so relaxed.

She knew he was.

But there was something that didn't allow her to be one hundred percent.

She fixed her eyes on his, placing a hand on his chest, over his heart. The hand Lorcan had held behind his head until now came to rest on hers, squeezing her fingers tight.

Elide took a shuddering breath, "Now what?"

Lorcan suppressed a yawn, "I guess it's not a problem if we stay here and sleep-"

"No, I'm saying," she interrupted him, looking away, "what do we do now? You and I." then, realizing that question couldn't have been more vague, she closed her eyes, mustering courage, "What are we now?"

"Whatever you want us to be, Ellie," he said softly, starting to stroke her hand, "But I want one thing to be clear. And I'd like you to look at me while I say it."

Elide opened her eyes, lifting her chin slightly so she could see him better, and gave him a small smile, which he immediately returned.

"What is it?"

Lorcan's gaze moved to her lips, before returning to her eyes, "I like you, Elide."

She stopped breathing.

"I really like you and whatever you decide to do with me, I'll respect that, but I also want to say that if you don't want anything exclusive, then this will have been a one night stand and won't happen again."

Although she also wanted exactly the same things, hearing him say them made her chest hurt, because the prospect of not being able to have him again so soon after just finally finding him hurt.

She cleared her throat, nodding, "I like you too." she whispered, noticing his eyes widen a little, "And I don't want you going with any other girls besides me if we decide to continue with this." Lorcan nodded, agreeing with her, then continued, "If you don't want a relationship right away, I can understand that, but know that I do." she felt herself blush as she finally admitted the truth out loud, looking away, "And I know our situation isn't the best with being roommates and all-"

"Our situation is perfect," Lorcan corrected her, moving a strand of hair out of her face.

She looked at him again, seeing him smile.

"Ellie, you're my best friend. The person who knows me the most out of all the people I consider important. We already live together, we won't have to fight over who to stay at every night. We won't have to go on any awkward first dates and the sex seems phenomenal to me," a lump formed in her throat as she tried to keep her breathing regular, but found it difficult when he smiled at her more broadly, "I waited months for you to see that the playlists were all declarations and hoped that after Friday night something would change. For once I won."

Elide figured he was talking about what had happened at the club, but if she was going to be completely honest... "I was the one who showed you my tits twice, letting you know I wanted something more. Don't take all the credit."

Lorcan burst out laughing and it sounded more scratchy than usual, "I'm sorry, you're right."

He kissed her again and again, and held her close as he ran his fingers through her hair and murmured the words to a love song, and before long she fell asleep in his arms, making Lorcan the happiest man in the world.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed, just send an ask or dm me)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @ladywitchling @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @anne-reads @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @simping4bookboisngrls @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @miserablemusings @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @the-regal-warrior​

[lizamango]

Finding You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) 4/?

A/N: Yay I’ve managed to bang out another chapter before I get too busy this weekend. This is seriously the slowest burn fic I have ever written!

Summary: You’ve been one of SHIELD’s top spies for years but what happens when the organisation you’ve put your trust in crumbles and Captain America gives you a mission to help him find his best friend? The last thing you expected to happen was to fall in love with your assignment and become best friends with a witch.

Taglist ~ just comment if you wanna be added

@buckylokisimp​​, @white-wolf-buckaroo​​, @austynparksandpizza, @markandlexies,  @yaszx​

Word Count: 3117​

Masterlist

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~

Warnings: cursing

Chapter Summary: Steve trusts you and you face the Winter Soldier

Chapter 4: IT WAS ALL A LIE

I wake up in a new car with Rogers driving.

“Where are we?” I ask groggily.

“Goin’ back to DC. Goin’ to someone I trust,” he responds keeping his eyes on the road.

“Didn’t realise you had friends. Other than me, of course,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood even though we almost got blown up.

“So we’re friends now, huh?” he says, playing along.

I shrug but it causes a pang in my side and I hiss at the pain.

“You alright?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t have enhanced speedy healing but I’ll cope. Give me an ibuprofen and I’ll be good as new.” I sigh, staring out the window.

“You sure that’s not an act to distract me from the fact you called me Steve and not Rogers or Captain?” he says, teasing.

I roll my eyes dramatically. Of course he picked that up. “Slip of the tongue.”

“Whatever you say… friend. Pal. Buddy,” he chuckles, amused at his own joke. Like a grandpa.

“Oh my gosh, anyone ever tell you you’re really annoying?”

He quiets down and the mood shifts notably. More somber. “Someone did.”

I frown, I thought he didn’t have anyone special… The car comes to a stop and before I could ask for more, even though I know he wouldn’t give it, he gets out of the car.

“Where are we, really?”

“Trust me.” I do.

I follow him up the steps and he knocks on the door. I look around, suspicious and skeptical, the sound of the door opening brings my attention to the owner of the house. Huh, the guy I saw when I first picked the Captain up for that cursed mission.

“Hey, man,” Sam says in shock.

“I’m sorry about this. But we need a place to lay low.”

“Everyone we know is trying to kill us,” I add.

“Not everybody,” he steps aside and Steve and I walk in. “Bathroom’s through that hallway and there’s a spare room right across from it… I’ll go and… make you something to eat. If you guys do that sort of thing.”

I chuckle softly and Steve lets me go wash up first. I splash water in my face and take a breath, something I couldn’t do until now. I stare hard at my reflection and I look as lost and tired as I feel. I find a small towel and take it with me, sitting on the bed and drying off. Steve freshens up next and goes to sit in front of me.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I respond a little too quickly.

“What’s going on?”

“I guess… SHIELD’s been my life for so long. I thought I knew what it was… that it did good, helped people. I thought that everything I did, every mission I filled was the right thing, the good thing. But what if it wasn’t? Whoever gave those orders could have been using me. Using us all. If we’re the bad guys then… the people I’ve… crossed off… they could have been good guys.” I put the towel down and sigh. “I owe you, Rogers.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

“I really thought… HYDRA was gone.”

“Well, yeah so did I, I killed their leader.”

“No… there’s something else.”

I know he’s frowning as he looks at me. “What?”

“I told you about Romanoff’s mission in Odessa… after that I was put undercover. Two years, deep. As a scientist researching the super soldier serum; from Romanoff’s debrief that seemed like the best option for a cover story. We had to find out about these threats that came outta nowhere. HYDRA picked me up. We never even considered them, I didn’t know it was them until later so I told Fury. At first… he thought it was just pockets, ya know? Thugs. People who wanted to take the reputation HYDRA had to scare competition. They had a secret… I kept coming up with nothing in my three-monthly check ins but I felt like I was close. Anyone interested in the serum had to know something, right? Then we found you and… I don’t know, maybe if Fury didn’t pull me out, I would have found the Winter Soldier and Fury wouldn’t be dead.”

“You didn’t know. No one did. These aren’t thugs. They’re organised and have been for a long time to be able to infiltrate SHIELD like they have,” he says sternly.

“If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life, now you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?”

“I would now. You’re not a bad person, Y/N. I can see that, I don’t have to know you that well to know that. And I’m always honest,” he adds, causing a slight smile to appear on my face.

“Well, you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out that killing the Red Skull did nothing to stop HYDRA.”

“Well,” he leans back on the chair. “I guess I just like to have a face to put on the people I’m up against.”

“Breakfast is ready…” Sam says. “If you… eat.”

“I like him,” I say.

“So do I.”

We stand and follow Sam to see the eggs, bacon and toast laid out on the table. “This is so sweet, thank you, Sam.”

He smiles. “I wanna help.” And I know it’s about providing us with a meal.

“We-we can’t ask that of you,” I say, knowing he’s not referring to cooking breakfast for us.

“You don’t have to because I’m offering.”

Steve nods. “Alright.”

“You’re just a civilian, right now,” I object.

“So are you, disgraced SHIELD agent.”

I huff, that’s fair.

Steve updates Sam on what has happened as I eat the breakfast so kindly prepared.

“So, the question is, who at SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike?”

“Pierce,” Steve answers.

“Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world,” I saw before having a bite of buttered toast. Yum.

“But he’s not working alone, Zola’s algorithm was on the Lemurian Star.”

Thinking back, I go through all the names of the hostages on the ship. “So was Jasper Sitwell,” the only field officer on a ship of technicians and scientists.

Steve frowns. “So the question is how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a SHIELD officer in broad daylight?”

“The answer is, you don’t,” Sam says then he places a file on the table.

“What’s this?”

“Call it a resume.”

“Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission. That was you?” I say looking at the picture. “You didn’t say he was a pararescue,” I say to Steve. “I heard they couldn’t bring choppers in because of the RPGs. What did you use? A stealth chute?”

“No. These,” Sam hands us the thicker file.

“I thought you said you were a pilot?” Steve says, surprised.

“I never said pilot.”

I finish my breakfast as they think of a plan to retrieve the… wings. The boys can handle that while I enjoy these eggs and locate Jasper Sitwell.

Steve kicks Sitwell through a rooftop door. “Tell me about Zola’s algorithm.” I follow after Steve, silently.

“Never heard of it,” the traitor says, out of breath and stumbling backwards.

“What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?”

“I was throwing up, I get sea sick.” This smartass. He almost falls back but Steve catches him, grabbing him by his shirt. He calms down and smirks. “Is this little display meant to insinuate that you’re gonna throw me off the roof? Coz it’s really not your style, Rogers.”

“You’re right. It’s not.” Steve smooths Sitwell’s jacket down. “It’s her’s.” He steps aside and I smile, kicking him off the roof as he screams. “Were you on the helicarrier when Barton tried to shoot us down?”

“What?” I say, caught off guard, as I stare down and the falling man.

“You said I had two more guesses.”

I chuckle, remembering what he was talking about. “No, I was on a short vacation by then. One more guess.”

“Where did you go?” he asks out of curiosity.

“Classified.”

“So it was a mission?”

“Classified,” I smirk. “Fine you got it outta me, I was at –“

Sam comes up with a still screaming Jasper who is dropped behind us.

“To be continued,” Steve comments as we approach the agent.

“Zola’s algorithm is a program for choosing Insight’s targets.”

“What targets?”

“You. The TV anchor in Cairo, the Under Secretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa city, Bruce Banner, Hank Pym, anyone who’s a threat to HYDRA. Now… or in the future.”

“The future?” Steve repeats. “How could it know?”

Sitwell chuckles. “How could it not?”

“The 21st century is a digital book,” he stands up, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Zola taught HYDRA how to read it. Zola’s algorithm evaluates people’s past to predict their future.”

“What then?” I ask, frowning.

He looks at me as if he’s noticed what he has revealed. “Pierce is gonna kill me…”

“What then?” I repeat.

“The Insight helicarriers cross people off that list. A few million at a time.”

Well Shit.

We get into a car, dragging Sitwell with us and we drive to the Triskelion.

“Insight launches in 16 hours, we’re cutting this a little close, fellas.”

Steve explains our plan of action which to no one’s surprise, Sitwell objects to. Before he can continue his rant there is a thud on the roof and an arm pulls him out through the car window.

I watch after him, seeing the metal arm of the Winter Soldier grabbing a gun from his holster. Moving fast, I slip through the two front seats and into Rogers’ lap, pulling his head forward to protect him as the Soldier shoots from the back seat to the front. Before the bullets reach us, Steve pulls on the break, causing the Soldier to fall forwards. Grabbing one of the guns, I aim but we get hit by a SHIELD Humvee from behind, causing me to drop the gun and the car to push forward toward the Asset. I fish for the gun, grabbing it as the steering wheel is ripped out of the car and Sam’s hands.

“Shit!”

I shoot after the Asset but he jumps off and onto the Humvee as we glide through the road, no way to control the car. We roll and Steve grabs each of us as we surf on the detached car door. The Soldier launches a bazooka at us but Steve pushes me away as I start running for cover so he takes the shot.

I dodge gunfire and moving cars, jumping off the bridge and using a grappling hook to safely get myself down and run but seeing his shadow, I stop just before the bridge and start shooting until he takes cover. I move to a cable car as the pissed off Asset rains bullets at my previous location. I shoot back and run as the bullets chase me.

As a diversion I record myself speaking on my communicator and play it on loop, placing it behind a row of cars as I take cover. I watch as he rolls a grenade to the source of the sound and it explodes so I jump up, using a car as a step up and kicking him in the face. I wrap my legs around him as I use my retractable steel bracelet to wrap around his neck as a garrotte but he gets his hands through and walks backwards, slamming me against a car. He gets his hands on me and throws to off of him and into another car. Geez. Before he shoots at me I grab an electric disc off my bracelet, throwing it at his arm to temporarily disable it as I run for my life.

“Get out of the way! Get away!” I yell at the panicking civilians then I feel a bullet pierce right through me. Stunned, I stumble backwards, resting on a car. I hear the soldier land not too far from my position and our eyes meet briefly as he aims at me. Steve runs in, giving me a chance to get away. Finally. Fuck me, why did I have to be the one to deal with him? As the two fight, I manage to get a hold of a dropped gun and slowly make my way back to them.

Steve flips the soldier over whose mask falls off as he lands. He turn around and I notice Steve’s stance stiffens.

“Bucky?”

“Who the hell’s Bucky?” the Asset asks. Sam kicks him, sending him flying but he’s too distracted, shaken to go after him. His eyes go wild, confused and lost as he looks at the mask now on the ground. He takes out a gun, aiming for Steve and instead of shooting directly at him I purposely target for behind him.

I recognize the STRIKE team’s vehicles coming for us and there’s no where to run. Agents put handcuffs on me and walk to the their vehicle, doing the same to Steve and Sam, confiscating their weapons and loading us up.

“What happened back there, Steve?” I ask. “Isn’t Bucky… your childhood friend?” I recall from reading the history books. He was the only Howling Commando to give his life in combat and was put on the SHIELD Wall of Valor as an honorary agent.

“It was him. He looked right at me like he didn’t even know me,” he says sadly.

“How is that even possible? It was like 70 years ago,” Sam asks.

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in 1943, Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did, helped Bucky survive the fall.”

“Zola did it to hurt you,” I say. “Using your best friend as their secret weapon, if they ever needed him to fight you. That’s why they chose him to experiment on…”

“Wow, classic evil guy tactic,” Sam comments.

“None of that is your fault, Steve,” I say softly.

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”

“Y/N, you’re bleeding badly,” Sam notices. “We need to get a doctor here. If we don’t put pressure on that wound, she’s gonna bleed out here in the truck.”

The masked agent pulls out an electrified baton, causing Sam to stop talking and jump back. They don’t use it on him though as they flip it in their hand to hit their partner who groans but passes out before he could do anything.

“Ah, that thing was squeezing my brain. Who’s this guy?” Hill removes her helmet.

“Long story,” I whisper. It feels like when I talk it hurts more.

Hill accepts that and uses a laser cutter to cut a hole in the floor and we slip out.

“I have a car waiting,” Hill says. “There are still agents on the right side.”

We arrive at a dam and Steve helps me down from the SUV, allowing me to lean on him as we follow Hill.

“GSW, she’s lost at least a pint,” Hill yells.

“Maybe two,” Sam adds.

“Let me take her!” A doctor I don’t recognize says, meeting us.

“She’ll wanna see him first.” I frown, who could I possibly wanna see right now, apart from a doctor to stitch me up?

Leading us into a room, there was no way I could have expected it. Fucking Fury, of course he’s alive.

“About damn time,” he mumbles then lists all his injuries.

“You’re too stubborn to die,” I say as the doctor sits me down to attend to my gunshot.

“Why all the secrecy?” Steve asks.

“Any attempt on the Director’s life had to look successful,” Maria explains.

“Can’t kill you if you’re already dead. Besides, I didn’t know who to trust.”

“So we just had to get targeted by the Winter Soldier for you to trust us?” I ask.

“I trusted you, that’s why I had you go to the apartment. I knew you’d find the truth, along with Rogers.”

“Well, you’re really gonna hate what we’ve found out,” Steve says.

“Alexander Pierce is the head of HYDRA,” I say, ripping off the band aid.

Fury nods slowly, processing. “That man declined a Nobel Peace Prize. He said that peace wasn’t an achievement. It’s a responsibility,” he scoffs bitterly. “See, it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues.”

“We have to stop the launch,” I say.

“I don’t think the Council is accepting my calls anymore,” Fury states. He opens a briefcase with three drives in it.

“What’s that?” Sam asks.

“Once the helicarriers reach 3,000 feet, they’ll triangulate with Insight satellites, becoming fully weaponized,” Hill briefs.

“We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own,” Fury adds.

“One of two won’t cut it, we need to link all three for this to work. If even one of those ships remains operational, a whole lot of people are gonna die.”

Fury starts on his plan to rebuild SHIELD but Steve has none of it, interrupting. “We’re not just taking down the carriers, Nick. We’re taking down SHIELD.”

“SHIELD had nothing to do with this!” Fury defends.

“You gave me this mission. This is how it ends. SHIELD’s been compromised, you said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.”

“We’re meeting in this cave because I noticed.”

“How many paid the price before you did? You didn’t trust Y/N when she said she was close to something. If she had stayed, you would have realized how important that mission would be. You have to stop underestimating people, Nick. Your enemies as well as your friends.”

“Look, I didn’t know about Barnes.”

“Even if you did, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too? SHIELD, HYDRA… it all goes.”

“He’s right,” Hill agrees.

“And you? You grew up in SHIELD. Trained, educated…” Fury asks me.

I shake my head. “This is the right thing to do. It was all a lie.”

“Well, looks like you’re giving the orders now, Cap.”

I find Steve on the bridge overlooking the water.

“I found the council woman. Hill had a photostatic veil ready for me to use…” I choose not to acknowledge his solemn look until he chose to.

“The other person… the one that called me annoying, was Bucky,” he starts referring to our earlier conversation. “He’s all I had. All I ever had. The day I thought I lost him was the worst day of my life.”

I place a hand on his back. “Do you think you can save him?”

“I have to try. I owe it to him to try.”

“And if you can’t? What if… he doesn’t let you?”

“He will. Suit up, it’s time.” He starts to walk and I frown.

“You’re not fighting in that are you?”

“No. If you’re gonna fight a war, you gotta wear a uniform.”

💖

Thanks for reading! Have a new fic idea but should probably get more of this one done before I start writing two at once but I’m so excited for it 🤩🤩😭

Chapter 5

[captaindodson]

7AM confessions (t.h oneshot)

Synopsis: You just finished working a graveyard shift at your summer job. Just as you’re about to get into your car to leave to sleep the weekend away, a familiar face appears to confront you on what happened. 

Paring: Tom Holland x Gender Neutral!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k+ 

Warnings: Angsty (?), Swearings??

Once your apple watch displayed 7 AM you knew the long week you had was finally over. The assembly line filled with car parts ready for inspection remain still and untouched as everyone switches off with the next group of shift workers who are already coming onto the floor. Luckly, its Friday, so you get to sleep the weekend away and reset your sleep schedule for your last week of shifts before the fall semester starts. You tidy up your small station and when you think you’ve done enough you turn around to leave and then you see your co-worker/work friend Raj approaching. You both wear matching white hard hats, blue gloves, white jackets, dark blue work pants, and brown steal toed boots.

“Hey, how was this morning,” Raj stops a few feet away and raises his hand to fist bump and you happily reciprocate before sliding your hands into your jacket pockets.

“It wasn’t a bad night, Lauren didn’t come in tonight cause she was sick with a stomach bug. Oh I did finally registered for my university courses during my break, and I got so lucky with my extra circulars.The moment I went to register there was only one spot left for the ones I wanted.”

Raj just nods and glances around the work station, inspecting to see you cleaned it to his standard. You notice his wandering eyes but you aren’t bothered by it. You’ve been in that position where you have to work a long eight hours on your feet and the person before you at your assigned station leaves it a mess and you’re stuck cleaning it for the first hour of your shift. So after he finishes inspecting he meets your eyes and nods in approval.

“Oh shit really? I should probably do that sooner rather than later. I’ve been going to university for three years and I almost always forget every time  to register on time,” He replies.

“Don’t you have your final research seminar and reading seminar this year? I thought certain classes had a small capacity?”

“Oh. Well guess what I’m doing during my lunch break,”

You lightly laugh at him as the sound of a warning buzzer echoing through the factory floor goes off. You look around and see that most, if not all of your night shift people are already off the floor and you take this as your cue to leave.

“Anyway, talk to you later Raj,” he gives you small smile in response and steps around you to get started. You make your way off the floor and to your designated locker, providing some of the people from dayshift a warm smile as you walk past them.

You walk through a pair of white double doors which leads into a a bright baby blue hallway which eventually guides you to where the designated bathrooms are with the lockers. When you get to the end of the hall you turn left and head into the female washroom where the you’re met with an empty room. Usually, when everyone’s shift ends they’re rushing to get out (and you’re no exception). You would normally find yourself squeezing by people and dodging elbows trying to get to your locker but today is different. Staying behind for an extra few minutes to talk actually lets you take your time for once. By taking your time it also means the parking lot won’t be backed up as usual and you can drive home without any major delay to sleep your weekend away. That’s the only thing you have to look foreward to, your bed because there is no one at home, no roomates, no pets, no boyfriends, no nothing. The place you were at two months ago was totally different from where you are now. You lived abroad in London with your then boyfriend for six months until you broke it off because you were lost. 

You had to get out because your identity slowly became tightly intertwined with the person you were with. Everything revolved around them and their job and you were going no where in life. Your dreams were pushed to the back of your mind as you stayed in fancy hotel suites, alone waiting for your ex-boyfriend to come back from an exhausted day on set to only desperately try to keep his eyes open when you two watched a movie or went out for a night on the town.

He really did try his best to make your time with him exciting even if he was burn out from working all day. He made small dates in your hotel room feel magical. He had your hotel room decorated in fairy lights and planned a romantic dinner looking over the city you two stayed in. He made love to you in the early hours of the morning to the organy rays of the morning sun. Or another time, when he wasn’t allowed to leave the hotel at all, he took you to the hotel roof to slow dance under the stars to music playing from that headphones you two shared. You’d pay a million dollars to experience these small moments over and over again.

Over a weekend back in London by yourself while Tom had to catch a flight last minute to do film re-shoots in LA, you decided to have a self-care night.  After lighting some candles, ordering take-out, dimming the lights, and scrolling through Netflix to finally find a good-feel show, you finally sit comfortably on the couch and relax. You found a generic rom-com from the 2000’s that looked mildly interesting and even if the plot wasn’t any good you could still get a good laugh about it.

As the movie progresses and the main character struggles to choose between a boy and her dream job you find your mind slowly loosing focus with what is happening on the screen and  reflecting it back into your own life. After a few seconds pondering you realize something,  had no idea what you wanted to do. You were in your early twenties, you were doing school part-time online with a program you liked but you spent most of your time with Tom. Traveling to country to country to join him while he filmed, staying in hotel rooms waiting for him, sometime visiting set when you were allowed too, it was truly an exciting and calming lifestyle.

Even though you believed you finally found the guy that you could spend the rest of your life with, a second family you got along with, a place you could see yourself settling down in, you didn’t have anything for yourself. When you thought you of trying to return to in-class schooling with a larger course load and renting a place for the semester and trying to sustain a long-distant relationship with someone in the limelight, it just stressed you out. You knew it wouldn’t be easy and just seeing how deflated Tom looked when he returned to you after working, you knew the relationship would push him to his limits.

Even after initiate moments you realized how tired and over worked he was. The look in his eyes when he had to leave for work the next morning couldn’t go unnoticed.  You felt your heart squeezing itself and your breathing became heavier. You would never want to cause Tom any pain on your behalf, and you can’t continue to drag your feet with your education because you felt like you . So, you did what you did best, shut someone out and leave. You made up lie about how this relationship wasn’t working on your end, broke it off and flew back to the town where you had been attending school online. Scrambling enough money together to buy a used car and a small studio apartment and apply to as many jobs as you could. You got lucky, that when you were applying that a car factory needed more summer students and they were paying their workers a decent living wage and you just jumped on it. The job helped you get settled but it also helped ignore the small amount of regret you felt. It is too late to turn around now and now you must live with your choices. 

You shake yourself out of a daze you didn’t realize clouded your mind, and it seems your feet have carried you to the front of your small grey locker. It looks like what all typical high school lockers look except half the size. You raise your hand to the lock to do one full twist to the right, one full twist to the left, and half a twist to the right again and my the lock pops off with a light pull.

You reach in to collect your phone, black spring jacket, dark blue water bottle, then you reach into your jacket pocket to fish out your car keys. You hum in satisfaction when you feel the cool metal of your keys in your pocket. You drape your jacket over your arm as you shut the locker quietly and slide the lock over the hook and push it shut. You proceed to continue to follow the baby blue hallways until you’ve reached the double glass doors of the exit. You push open the glass door and is met with a cool morning breeze also paired with a peach colored sky.

You make your way across the concrete of the parking lot, following the line of different coloured cars parked next to each other, eyes wandering at the different licence plates, soaking up the calmness of the morning sun until you stop dead in your tracks. You look up to see someone leaning on the hood of your car. This person is dressed in some blue jeans, a black hoodie, dark red hat, and it seems they’re just casually looking down and scrolling through their phone unaware of your presence a couple feet away. You think for a minute before speaking, should you just walk back inside and get someone to confront this guy or should you just do it yourself? I mean it is your car in a private parking lot, someone will hear you scream right? After a few seconds go by you just say fuck as the longer you stand here the less time you get to spend sleeping. 

“Ah hem, excuse me you’re leaning on my car. Can you please get off,”

You keep your distance and tightly grip your waterbottle. Just so you have a head start if you need run back into the factory or even defend yourself. Their fingers stop scrolling, but their gaze is still facing downwards, hood and hat hiding their features.

“Uh hello, you need to get out of this parking lot its a private. Ill call security if you don’t move, ”

You shallow nervously as the figure stays still, unresponsive. When it seems like this figure is just going to continue to ignore you they stand up abruptly causing you to jump.

“Hi Y/N,’ An english accent comes out from the hood and your expression changes from fear to dread in seconds. Heart still pumping fast in your chest and you feel yourself getting even more nervous. 

“What are you doing here, Tom”, You cross your arms the best you can and start staring at your feet to avoid eye contact.

“Can’t I come visit my girlfriend after she finishes work,” Tom questions as his foots steps get louder as they get closer.

“I am not your girlfriend remember.  Besides the point, how do you even know where to find me. I haven’t talked to you in two months.”

‘You left without a much of explanation. You said when I came home from LA that this was over because you couldn’t handle this relationship, it stressed you out to much. I thought everything was going good mutually good in all aspects of the relationship, but I guess I was wrong. After months of trying to unravel what I could have possible done wrong, I just had to find you and get the truth of why you left,”

He ignores your question as he bends his knees to try and get a look at your face. Your mind almost speeds up, unable to come up with a good enough half-assed response, you mouth blurts out the truth without much thought.

“I love that you’re able to pursue your dreams, and god Tom I wouldn’t want you to do anything to compromise that. But I want to be able to pursue my dreams too Tom. The only way I can do that is if I leave and doing a long-distant relationship hardly ever works out for anybody! I don’t want you wearing yourself out because of me and being long-distance was going to tear you apart,”

You sniffle away the tears building up in your eyes while focusing on the curves on the concrete.

“Darling, why didn’t you just talk to me? I would and do understand if you want to pursue something on your own. I would never want to settle for anything less.  “

He reaches out a finger to find a place under your chin to lift your head gently so your eyes will meet. You glossy eyes meet his soft, gentle brown eyes and that alone makes you want to cry. You never meant to cause pain to reach those eyes, you just thought you were doing yourselves a favour.

“Baby, we could’ve done this together you know that. We would’ve never survived our first year together if we didn’t talk stuff out. Trying to make a relationship work with a person I’ve loved since our first date is worth the endless amount of stress life causes. Y/N, my darling, I would do anything to make you happy but also stay in my arms forever,”

His soft tone makes your knees weak and that is when the dam of tears breaks from your eyes and they flow down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I-I just thought I was doing the right thing for both of us. I was watching a movie and I started stressing my sell-out and just thinking for myself .I’m sorry I put you through this, I know I can’t turn back time, but please forgive me for causing you any pain because my love for you got me all fucked up, “ You say trying wipe away the salty tears dripping down your face. 

“I’m not mad nor am I upset with you. I’m just glad I can have you back in my life again.”

Tom smiles even bright as he pulls lightly on the hand he has a hold of to drag your body over to his. He embraces you into his warmth and your body curls into him and all you can think is there is no place you’d rather be.

“Now, why don’t we go back to your place and catch up on some sleep huh? Then you can give me tour around your new place and make up for lost time,”

He hums into your hair as you pull back from his embrace to look up, wiping your eyes with your sleeve to look at Tom more clearly.

“Yeah, I’d like that”.

[yehet-me-up]

Frozen North ~ Night Five (final)

PAIRING: Chanyeol x reader

GENRE: Horror/Suspense/SPOOP in general/light romance (because who else would I be?)

WORD COUNT: 3,375

RATING: PG13 (nothing gruesome, but knowing me there will be swearing)

SUMMARY: You run a late night radio show dedicated to telling scary stories and urban legends, the creepier the better. Listeners call in and share their own, creating a small but loyal community of folks like you who love this sort of thing. One night, a man calls in with what sounds like an all-too-real story and before you know it, you’ll do anything to make sure he’s safe.

Frozen North Masterlist

You all sit in silence, staring at Jimmy. The clock on the wall hits midnight but no one makes a move. Faintly, though your headphones, you hear the ad reel kick in. 

Daniel comes into the booth a moment later. He folds his arms, looking haunted but ready for action. 'So, what the fuck do we do now?'

Jimmy spins the laptop so you can see the readout. ‘It was right here, I’m telling you. I’ve got it.’ He points to a large building on the outskirts of campus. ‘When the phone smashed, the signal died. But I’m certain.’ He opens up a new tab and overlays the UW map next to the program. ‘I got it.’

‘Albert Hall,’ you read over his shoulder. 'Why does that sound so familiar?'

Suse and Jimmy exchange a look. 'Let's go find him,' she says, as though it's as simple as that.

Logic wars with your desire to sprint out of the building and decimate anyone standing in your way to save Chanyeol. 'There were bars on whatever he's being held in, guys. And at least two people sick enough to do this. If we charge in there and get hurt, or worse, we won't be much help to him,' you say, chewing on your lower lip anxiously. 'Maybe we could call the police? Report a break in or something and they'd have to go investigate.'

'You're right,' Suse sighs, running a jittery hand through her hair. 'But, also. You know...' She gestures with her hands out the window and then back to the four of you.

'Fuck it.’ You stand up and pull on your jacket, heart racing. 'You're right. We can't wait.' Pulling out your phone, you dial 911.

Without even grabbing your bag you stride out into the hallway, pressing the phone to your ear. Shuffling follows you as Suse, Jimmy, and Daniel grab their coats and turn off the lights.

A female voice comes on the line. '911, what's your emergency?'

You stop in the kitchen and pull open the drawers, grabbing the only weapon you can think of - the long knife amongst the various utensils you all keep there for the odd lunch or dinner you eat at the station. The blade gleams in the moonlight coming through the hall window.

The distress and fear are all too real as they color your tone. 'Please, help me,' you say into the phone in a high voice. 

The dispatcher carries on with business-like efficiency. 'How can I help you, miss?'

Jimmy holds up the screen beside you as you carry on out the front doors into the night. The address flashes in thick red. You head down the hallway and push out the doors into the freezing night. 

'Some guys just took my friend into this building. We were just - we were just walking back from Schultzy's! They came out of nowhere.'

'Are you safe?' she asks. You can hear the clack of her typing in the background.

You feel the wooden handle of the knife in your hand and look at Suse, Jimmy, and Daniel beside you. 'I'm safe. But please, please, hurry.’ You pause to take a dramatic inhale of breath. ‘I think they had a gun.'

Suse smiles and nods at you. You hardly need Jimmy's whispered directions as you all move silently through the sleeping streets to the address listed. Something within you is pulling you towards Chanyeol and you swallow your fear down and keep walking as fast as your legs can carry you.

'I'm putting your address as 800 NE 42nd st, is that correct?'

Silently, you curse and hurry around parked cars. 'No, no I - I ran before they could grab me. It was 4120 11th Ave NE that they took him into. Please, hurry.'

If she thinks it’s strange you have the exact address ready, she doesn’t show it. 'Got it. I'm dispatching units now, please stay on the line while -'

You hang up and shove your phone in your pocket. Picking up the pace, you sprint over sidewalks until you stand outside the abandoned building. While it's clearly part of the row of stone and brick classrooms on the far end of campus, this one looks as though it in particular has fallen into disrepair. The trees lining the street behind you are dwarfed by the three-story rise of the building above.

The sign out front is warped with age. Albert Hall - Psychology Research Center

'Does it say precisely where in the building he is?' You whisper to Jimmy, as though the slightest sound will give you away.

He shakes his head. 'No. But I'm willing to bet it's through a back entrance.' He nods up at the boarded up front doors.

Your group moves around to the right side, closer to the University proper. Just a street away the city pulses with life and lights and noise, students enjoying the start of the weekend. But in this isolated corner, near the freeway. it's unnervingly quiet. The perfect place to lock someone up where no one would find them. In your mind you make a promise to Chanyeol and to yourself that this ends tonight. No matter what you have to do, by morning he'll be free.

The outside of the building is dark, sloping gently down the hill behind it. A gust of wind comes through the trees and you wrap your arms around yourself, careful to keep the knife's edge away. Holding your breath you wait for any sign of life or movement inside, praying you’re not too late. 

'There!' Suse whispers loudly a minute later, pointing to a flash of light in one of the lower windows.

You start moving towards it, blood pounding in your ears. 

Daniel holds your arm gently. 'The police are on their way, shouldn't we wait?'

The fear in your veins is strong, but something pushes you to keep going. 'It's Friday night in the U District, Daniel. I think it might be a while. I can't explain it but, we can't wait.'

He nods grimly and you all carefully pick your way down the slick grass hillside to reach the decidedly not boarded-up back door. Cautiously, you peek inside the darkened glass. Far down the hallway you see another flash of light, followed by a loud crash.

Suse uses the moment to pull open the creaking old door and she heads inside, leading the way. Daniel at the back gently braces it open with a doorstop and motions you all forward. If adrenaline wasn't coursing through your veins you'd take time to be horrified by the shadows in this place.

Your mind runs away with you in the darkness. Though you now believe that the people responsible for Chanyeol's predicament are in fact human and not supernatural, you can't help but wonder. About women in the night with terrifying eyes and wolves that move faster than they should. 

You reach the room where the noise is coming from and lean in to catch snippets of conversation.

'So what are we going to do with him, then?' a female voice says. It's oddly familiar.

The sound of pacing in the background increases. A male voice speaks, muffled at first and then louder. 'You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to this. There was never any other option.'

The woman counters in a contained scream - 'I didn't think you planned on killing him!'

Chanyeol. You clutch the knife tighter in your hand, readying for a fight. Peeking around the edge you see two figures circling each other in the faint light coming from a generator in the corner of the room.

The man turns and your stomach drops. 'Professor Langford?' you whisper to yourself.

He hardly looks like himself. His jacket is discarded on the floor and he holds a shaking, shadowed object in his hand. 'This was the deal. You help me get someone down here. Your silly little radio station gets a story worthy of national attention. And then we reach the end -' 

He walks closer to the light, pressing her against the wall. When his hand raises you see a gun, the barrel going to her forehead. 'I kill him and get my first-hand, up-close, look at what panic does to a community. I’ll finally have a case study worthy of tenure.’

You're so distracted by the fact that your goddamn professor is the one behind all this, you don't even pay attention to who the woman is.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ Suse asks loudly, incredulous, startling you. When you turn you see she's beside you, staring into the room. Arms crossed, ready for war. Suse isn't looking at the man, but at the woman. 'Jennifer?'

'Holy shit,' Daniel says, coming to peek between the two of you. 'Boss, what have you done?'

And holy shit indeed, they're right. The anguish on her face meets the harsh light and it’s aged her several years. Her normally loose blonde hair is braided back and a dark knit cap is pulled over it, but it's absolutely her.

In the startled silence you hear a banging sound against metal. Muted groans come from further into the room and you can just make out a cage in the corner - like a prison cell with thick bars, but slightly bigger. 

He hunches in the shadows, but you'd know him anywhere. For the last week your thoughts have been filled with nothing but him. You want to run to Chanyeol and get him the hell out of here, but the unstable look in the professor's eyes makes you hold your position.

Professor Langord uses the moment to pull Jennifer into his arms, pressing the gun to her forehead once more. The four of you move into the room, surrounding them, blocking the exit. 'Don't come any closer.'

As you stare each other down, other objects in the room come into focus. Noise machines you recognize from the station. Costumes, masks. A large poster is taped to the wall beside you - ice and a frozen lake as far as you can see. 

Disbelief makes you laugh, the sound hollow in the empty room. 'You made it all up?'

Daniel scoffs in disgust. 'You crazy bastard. The cops are on their way. It's over.'

Jennifer sags, shame coloring her features. She raises her hands defensively. 'Paul, stop this. It's over.' She looks at you and your friends. 'I'm so sorry, it - it wasn't supposed to be like this. We're losing our funding this year and we needed the money. I had no idea it would be... this -' she gestures back at Chanyeol and up at the building before lowing her eyes to the floor.

Suse hunkers down for a stand off. 'Let's wait for the cops and then we can resolve all of this.'

The professor makes a noise of distress and points the gun at you instead, shoving Jennifer to the floor. 'No! I'm not going down for this. There's plenty of bullets in here to keep it all quiet.'

He's deranged enough to do it; his hair in wild disarray and a feral hunger in his eyes you've never noticed before. You hold the knife in front of you, stepping around Suse. It’s your fault they all came along and, even if it’s pointless, you’re going to defend them.

With your free hand you shove them all back, behind you. The professor lifts it to be level with your head and terror surges in your veins as you hope to God you can dodge at the right time.

All of a sudden a thunderous bang comes from the corner and the professor turns at the sound. You use the moment, moving without thinking or hesitating. Rushing forward, you reach for his wrist, driving it back against the stone wall. He jerks, nearly losing the gun but maintaining his grip.

He attempts to aim it again, but you're faster. Teeth bared, you lift the knife and hold it to his throat. 'Move and I'll kill you, professor.'

The fight goes out of him, raising his free hand in surrender. You incline your head and call behind you, 'Daniel, grab the gun.'

He does, coming forward and relieving the professor of the weapon. Jimmy appears on your other side, pinning the man's other arm to the wall as well. 'Go get your man, we've got this,' he tells you.

Together they hold him against the wall. Suse flips the light switch and miraculously it still works. She stands guard at the door and watches Jennifer with disgust. Still on the floor, your boss’ knees draw to her chest as she sits upright with her back against the wall. She drops her head into her hands with a groan.

Noise and light spill the hallway, voices calling out. Suse sticks her head out and waves. 'Down here!'

You finally turn to the cage, now fully visible in the light. Chanyeol sits in the corner, his wrists bound in front of him with a length of rope. His wide eyes meet yours emphatically. He tries to speak around the length of fabric in his mouth and you want to sob.

'You're okay, thank God.'

You easily find the key to the enclosure and unlock the door. Dropping to your knees in front of him, you use the knife and cut off his bindings carefully. He reaches up and pulls the material out so he can speak. He's even more ethereal in person - with deep brown eyes, ears that stick out, and a full, pink mouth, he resembles a hero from a fairy tale, even with exhaustion clear on his face.

You can’t help it - you grin and reach for him, instinctually, automatically, before checking the motion. 

Your hands hang in the air and he watches them for a beat before meeting your eyes once more. Faster than you can process he sits up and pulls you against him in a slightly off-center hug. Gripping his arms you steady yourself, face pressing against his neck. The spell is broken and suddenly you accept that he's very real and tangible and here and alive. He smells like the ocean, even down here amongst the old tables and chairs. 

'Thank you,' he says, lips moving against your hair.

For a long moment you hold each other, in this strange and terrifying place, feeling against all odds as though you've finally come home. You want to cry with relief that he's whole. He was so close to you this whole time. You want to hug him tighter and keep him with you, to protect him from the world. Even if it's ridiculous, and though you've never met him before in your life.

But if telling myths and stories of the unknown for so long has taught you anything, it's that nothing is impossible. 'I can't believe you're here,' you say against him.

His hands find your shoulders and he eases you back to look at you, one hand moving into your hair. For a beat he simply drinks you in, amongst the noise and the sound of police in the room he watches you like you're the only person who exists. And then he surprises you completely by pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours.

For long seconds his cold mouth meets your warm one, tasting and teasing and familiarizing himself with you while you hold onto him, believing abruptly that this must all be a dream. But then you join him, reaching for his face and tracing his skin while you sink into the kiss.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. 'Your voice kept me sane in the darkness.' His eyes open and you know exactly what he means. He tilts his head and motions to a small radio on a ledge in the corner 'I'm so glad you finally found me.'

You blush, unable to help yourself as you push his messy hair out of his eyes so you can see him clearly. 'Any time. For now, how about we get out of here?'

He smiles and laughs, the weak sound finding a home in the hollows of your body. Together you stand, gently helping him off the floor. With him leaning heavily against you, still weak from his days of being in this place, you pull out your cell and dial the recent number.

She answers a beat later. 'Have you heard anything?' Yoora asks, voice tight with sadness.

Instead of answering you press the speaker phone button. Chanyeol bends, reading the name you called and smiling at you. Awe lingers in his eyes at the fact that you knew what he needed before he did. 'Sis?'

'Oh my god,' she starts. You hear the sound of things moving in the background. 'Chan? Are you okay?'

He grins, then winces and presses the hand not around your shoulders to his side. 'Not all the way, but I will be.'

Six months later - June

The station is still hot by the time you arrive in the evening; the summer sun clinging to Seattle well on into the evening. You know how the city feels and you want to hold onto the warmth, too.

Jennifer's office is still dark and you pass by it without looking in. Eventually, someone else will take her place. But for now, Daniel says the management is all filling in. Like so many things after a trauma, life carries on as it always has, and some wounds take longer to heal than others.

You hear his voice when you're in the hallway and grin. No matter how quickly you get out of your class or internship or TA duties Chanyeol still manages to beat you here. His exuberant, deep voice jokes with Daniel and when you peek in the door they're both looking at the computer. They’ve been thick as thieves since he helped you walk Chanyeol out of that godawful place and into the ambulance.

He notices you standing in the doorway and grins, the familiar crinkles coming to the corner of his eyes. 'There she is!'

You never know who does it first. If he reaches for you or if you reach for him. Or perhaps you're both drawn to each other like magnets, always reaching. He wraps his arms around you and you sigh, pressing a kiss to his chest.

Daniel makes a dramatic gagging noise and mutters 'get a room' that all three of you know he doesn't mean. Since the incident he's taken on even more of a protective vibe that now extends to Chanyeol as well.

When it’s finally time to start the show you swap out for Suse, hugging her like always. If anything, this has all brought you and her closer and the four of you are inseparable. 

‘Don’t have too much fun tonight,’ she teases, winking as she shuts the door behind her. 

With a laugh you assume your place on the far side of the desk, settling in where you’ve always sat. The headphones are the same. The switchboard of sixteen lines, waiting for people to call in, is the same. But what isn’t the same is the man who settles himself into a mirroring desk opposite you. 

He gives you a lopsided grin that makes is way into your voice as you start the show. 'Hello and welcome back to The Long Night on 107.9 KJWZ Seattle, where the dial might stop, but we don’t. I’m Y/N...'

After the story broke and everyone learned who you are it seemed silly to keep the nickname. The diehard listeners and people who called into the show know you on a deeper level now, and the show doesn't seem to be slowing down in the least. 

When everyone learned about the financial distress of the station, that Jennifer was hiding from everyone, the donations poured in. The thought of having this program, now shared by your boyfriend, gives you a sense of peace amongst all the change in your life.

'And I'm Chanyeol,’ he says. ‘We’ll be your host for the evening. Let’s get weird.' He winks and squeezes your hand beneath the booth.

~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @yeoldontknow​ @enthusiastt​ @itskindofafairything​ @gogh-suck-it​ @nshitae​ @jeons-moonchild​

[xellshun]

Feeding The Beast

I stand firm when supporting one of my favorite quotes: Evil is never born, it is created. All things were once good in the beginning, even Satan.

With the developement of my disorder and my descent into becoming a sociopath came many dark traits that I’ve used countless times to calm my urges and impulses. Most of them are fairly common among those with ASPD. But one quality has always stood above all the others.

My desire to victimize as many women as possible.

This post will focus on this trait rather than HOW it came to be but I will share a little bit of my past just to give you a general idea of it’s origins.

Over the course of the last 7 years I went through 3 very traumatic relationships. But before I did, I was a very kind hearted, ambitious, compassionate person with a huge dream of some day finding the love of my life, building a family, and living out the same fairy tale ending that my parents and their parents had before them. I had this perfect image of how my love life would work out and I based it off of what I watched my family build as I grew up. I grew up with a very close, caring, and loving family. So going into adulthood that’s just how I thought things were supposed to be.

I didn’t realize how fucking wrong I truly was and I was no where near prepared for the 7 year long nightmare I was about to go through...

The first of the three stages was when I lost my first true love - the mother of my beloved son. Not only did I loose her along with all my hopes and dreams of having that fairy tale ending. But I lost her while she was still pregnant with my son... So along with the initial pain, my first experience of pregnancy and my introduction to being a father were stripped from me and left me in a state of mind that pushed me into making my FIRST step down the dark I would eventually get lost in. She was what I would eventually call “The First Heartache”

The second stage happened with my next serious girlfriend. She would not only be my second love but would also end up being the girl who would eventually become extremely abusive. Physically, emotionally, mentally - she tortured me. She ultimately become what I called “The Abuser”

At this point, my disorder was born and rapidly growing. Coupled with emotional distress and a newly developed addiction to drugs and alcohol, my next relationship would only escalate the problems. She was a drinker, a drug user, and eventually a cheater. Her betrayal lead me down a path filled with an unending urge to stay intoxicated to cure the pain. And even though I should have left both her and the last girl, I didn’t. I was constantly trying to fill the void in my heart left by the first girl. But this third girl was no better than the last. She eventually became what I called “The Drunk Cheater”

By this point, my son was 5 years old. My relationship with him and my family was greatly damaged. I had come off my ADHD medication, struggled to stay employed, struggled with money, wrecked and totaled my vehicle, got into trouble with the law, did time in jail, struggled on and off with addiction to both drugs and alcohol, lost many of my friends... And above all else...

I lost myself...

And I forgot the feeling of remorse... Of empathy... And love...

The person I became and am now is the total opposite of who and what I was 7 years ago. Me then and me now wouldn’t even recognize each other if they met...

And thus, the sociopath was born... And within the dark pit of inhumane emotions, impulses, and urges.. The strongest one was my unending thirst for revenge...

And with that, the player mentality became supreme. And with it every aspect of my life would shift, change, and become centered around an unending cycle of chasing women. It started out as me just having fun and enjoying the single life and eventually evolved to what I do now.

So what do I do? For starters, I supress the monster underneath, I go out and I hunt women. I will often create several dating profiles, all of which with the same pictures, the same information about myself, and it has quickly turned into a game of seeing how many women I can sleep with in the shortest amount of time.

People would probably tell me “You sound like every other typical asshole player.” And it’s partially true, but in my mind I am a hunter. But I don’t hunt with the goal to kill (or hurt these women). I hunt with the goal of capturing and retaining them. I go out with my sociopathic mask, looking friendly, nice, and emotional. I play the part of a good honest man who just wants to settle down. For each individual girl I would learn her, everything about her, I would research her and read her like a book. I would figure out exactly what she wants and needs in a partner and I’d become that to the best of my ability. Once they are lured in I deceieve and manipulate every situation. Slowly and pateintly I shift the mood and create a large amount of sexual tension. I never come off as the creep, I never make them uncomfortable, and I always wait for THEM to make the first move. Why? Because it makes me feel powerful. And when we finally reach the point of having sex the sexual side of my sociopathic tendencies comes out. You see, I don’t care about finishing. It’s not what I look forward to and I don’t need to finish to be happy. The only thing that matters is HER pleasure. In those moments of intercourse I do everything in my physical ability to fuck them in every way they fantasize about. The porn star comes out and my one and only goal is to fuck them to the point where they are physically sore and trembling from orgasms. I want them to have issues walking the next day, I want to rearange their insides, and turn their intestines into soup. It almost never fails and this newly found dark skill has increased my body count from a pathetic 5 (my son’s mom) to a body count of 52 as of this last weekend.

But do I stop there and leave them in the dust? Hell no! I keep them around, I drag them around, and am constantly looking for new targets daily. I keep them around for many reasons - sex, money, drugs, alcohol, transportation, parties, new friends... And some times I’ll keep them around and create friendships with them so I always have someone to talk to or hang out with.

This way I am never bored and can always feed whatever hunger comes into my darkened heart...

I have done so many messed up things. Slept with more than one girl in a single day, slept with a new girl every day of the week, fucked a girl and then fucked her best friend. I’ve made women cheat on their boyfriends and then turned around and hung out with their boyfriends. I’ve made wives cheat on their poor unknowing husbands. Some would find out and their wives would leave them for me. Others would simply ask me to never mention it. Do I respect their wishes? Of course! Like I said. I never purposely treat any of these women poorly. I do this so that I can retain my image as a good and normal man. But more often than not, it’s the sex that makes them come back. I can’t tell you how many girls I’ve dicked down. I’ve been with all kinds of girls. Blondes, redheads, burnettes, thick girls, thin girls, small boobs, huge boobs, some who could be porn stars, some who were covered in tattoos and peircings, some were cam girls, some were strippers, some were partiers, drinkers, some were moms, some were church girls, some were younger, some were older... I think the only type of girl I have yet to be with is an Asian... Gunna have to change that...

I’ve been all over the place too. I can’t go to ANY surrounding town from where I live without knowing a girl I’ve fucked there. It’s hard enough when I’m out running errands too, can’t go fucking anywhere without the chance of seeing one of my victims.

All in all, it’s the thrill of the chase, it’s the thrill of knowing what lurks beneath the mask while they remain clueless, it’s the feeling of being so cold and heartless yet have the ability to bring them so many emotions I can’t feel, it’s about giving them the best sex of their lives, it’s about the satisfaction of leashing them along like pets, it’s about POWER and CONTROL. The two fucking things I had so little of when this all started during those 3 toxic and traumatizing relationships.

And in the deepest, darkest corners of my sick mind... In these many moments of deception and manipulation... I trick myself into believing that these poor girls I victimize are my exes.. In an attempt to feel some type or form of revenge to dowse the neverending burning fires of PURE HATRED that have turned my entire world into a place of devastation that is now just as dark as my heart...

For me, women as a whole, are my newly developed drug addiction. When I see them, I don’t see people, I see prey that I can use for whatever benefit I see fit. And if those benefits run out I simply take them to the slaughter house and use them one last time. Rejection doesn’t faze me either. If a single sheep manages to escape my fenced in prison it doesn’t bother me, the herde always consists of between 10-20 women at all times. It’s as easy as a simple hunting trip, which I honestly enjoy. After all, it’s always good to get out every once in a while.

This is what my life has turned into. A never ending sickening cycle of trying to fill in the void within my heart that they left behind those years ago. But in the end that ONE thing that can fill this whole is the one thing I avoid the most - Love...

Yes, my therapist knows about all of this. It’s great because my therapist is a female so it’s nice to be able to share my stories and brag to a girl who’s job is to help me. She probably thinks I’m a fucking piece of shit and I don’t blame her. But she’s a professional and has to help people like me.

We’ve discussed goals throughout therapy on ways for me to relearn the feelings of empathy, remorse, love, and so on... It’s one of many goals and this is the one I have the most trouble with... Part of me wants to change and go back to being normal. But the other part of me wants to keep doing what I do best because it’s just so much damn fun.

So will this part of me ever change? I think so. I hope so. The only other times I went from being a total man whore to a faithful loving man was every time a girl would come into my life who was strong enough to snap me out of dark ways... So far it’s only happened twice. My body count is at 52 and going up more quickly than ever. I’ve spoken to thousands of women, met hundreds, recieved thousands of numbers, thousands of X rated pictures and videos of these women, I’ve had sex thousands of times, and it’s getting to the point where these women just seem to blur together...

There’s little hope of finding a girl strong enough to pull me from the darkness this time. And honestly, I’m okay with it. I am at a point where the darkness is comforting and feels like home...

So this time around.. Not only does she need to be strong enough to pull me out... She needs to be brave enough to venture into a world of total darkness...

[nazariolahela]

Best Beloved: Chapter 4

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a PM AU I’ve been working on. It’s a bit different than my previous fic series and I’m really excited to try something new. I hope y’all enjoy it. This story is told in dual first-person narrative, from Kaia (F!MC) and Damien’s POV. The first half of this story takes place during Kaia’s freshman year and Damien’s senior year of college. The second half is two years after Kaia graduates. There will be sprinklings of canon in this fic, but we’ll try to step out of the box for the most part. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @burnsoslow​ @lady-calypso​ @irishwhiskys-blog​

Synopsis: What happens when you find yourself crushing on your best friend? For years, Damien and Kaia have been best friends, while secretly harboring feelings for one another. Everything changes one night after a little too much alcohol and years of pent up feelings. Can they control their emotions and salvage their friendship, or will the feelings they hold for one another destroy everything they have?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: Damien struggles with the state of his relationship and Kaia meets Hayden.

Damien

I sat at my cubicle on a Thursday afternoon, putting the finishing touches on the report I needed to write up for my internship. I had landed a Securities and Intelligence Analysis Internship with a local security agency. My duties included collecting, processing, and analyzing, intelligence, and providing assistance to the senior analysts within the agency. If everything went well, they mentioned offering me the opportunity to join the agency full-time. To be honest, though, I had bigger dreams.

I was proofreading my report when my phone went off. I looked at the screen and saw Alana’s name flash across it. I sighed and dragged my hand down my face. She had been blowing up my phone all day with text messages. After the frat party last weekend, we got into an argument about how I “disappeared on her” after our makeout session in the bathroom. I didn’t intend to, but when she stormed off and I lost her in the crowd, I didn’t make much of an effort to go look for her.

I felt like our relationship was going in a different direction than I was hoping. You could blame it on our busy schedules, and her turning down my proposal left a sour taste in my mouth. But as much as I wanted to deny it, I felt like Kaia coming back into my life had a lot to do with it. Feelings I didn’t know I had crept up on me every time she was around. Her touch, the sound of her laugh, and the sweet smell of her shampoo stirred up all these emotions in me. I needed to get them in check before I did something I’d regret.

My phone buzzed again and I groaned and dropped my head to my desk. I should have called her back and smooth things over, but I had to get this report done before I left today. I picked up the phone, and stared at it for a moment, then clicked the lock button and slipped in in my pocket.

A moment later, the research analyst I was paired up with rounded the corner of the cube farm and called out as he approached me. “Nazario. Do you have that research portfolio on current conflicts and security threats?”

I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out the manila envelope, handing it to him. He took the files and peered over my shoulder at my laptop.

“Thanks, man. Looks good so far. When you’re done with this, can you compile the materials from the counterterrorism report?”

“Sure thing, Agent McDaniels. I’ll have that to you shortly.”

He nodded and clapped me on the shoulder before walking off. I signed off on my report and hit “send” then leaned back in my chair with a smile on my face. This internship was easier than I thought it would be.

My phone buzzed in my pocket again. I groaned and pulled it out to see another missed call from Alana. I locked my computer and got up from my desk then made my way into the break room. Tapping my phone against my palm, I took a deep breath and dialed her number. She answered on the first ring.

“What?” she snapped.

“Baby, come on-”

“Don’t ‘baby, come on’ me, Damien. I’ve been trying to reach you all day! I’m sick of you always bailing on me all the damn time. First, you ditch me to go meet with your advisor. Then, you disappear during the frat party last week. And yesterday you fucking bailed on our date to go visit your mom. I know you have shit going on, but so do I. And I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a little reliability from my boyfriend.”

I groaned. We had planned to spend the afternoon together after classes, but Mom called yesterday morning, asking if I was able to come home and help her with something. And like the good son I am, I emailed my professors that I’d be absent, hopped in my car, and made the hour drive home. Now, I had to face the consequences. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d been kind of a lousy boyfriend lately. I wasn’t doing it on purpose, but with everything going on this year, I had to prioritize.  “I know, Alana. I’m sorry.”

“Are you fucking someone else?” she accused.

“What?”

“You heard me. What about that freshman you’ve been hanging around the last few weeks?” she spit out, the venom in her voice leaking through the phone.

Was she serious? I never told her about me and Kaia, so I don’t know where she even got the idea from. Just because Kaia and I had history, didn’t mean that I wanted to sleep with her. Okay, maybe I did, but I sure as shit didn’t act like it around my girlfriend. I dragged my hand down my face, sighing deeply. “Who? Kaia? She’s an old friend from home. I don’t even like her like that.” Lie. “Why would you think that?”

“It would make sense. Look, I know our relationship isn’t perfect, but if you have feelings for someone else, the least you could do is let me know so I’m not wasting my time.”

I yanked the phone away from my ear and mouthed several curse words. After all that we had been through, she had the audacity to say that to me? I pressed the phone back to my ear.  “Excuse me? Did you forget that I fucking PROPOSED to you? And you have the nerve to say I’m wasting your time! What the fuck, Alana?” I growled.

She went quiet on the other end and I had to check to see if she had hung up on me. After several beats, she spoke up. “It’s just...fuck, Damien. I feel like you never want to be around me anymore. Especially since you started hanging around with that Kaia girl. Plus, we're both always so busy, it’s like our relationship got put on the backburner.”

“Alana. If I didn’t want to be with you anymore, I wouldn’t be with you. I get why you’re upset. I do, but you have to understand that I have a life outside of this relationship. This internship is important to me. And my mom’s been having a hard time since my dad passed. I’m sorry for bailing on you, but you can’t go around accusing me of cheating on you every time. This relationship is never going to work if you do.”

“Well, what do you expect me to think, Damien? This new girl pops up out of nowhere, and all of a sudden you’re spending all this time with her,” she huffed.

“We have one class together, Alana. That’s it. We don’t go out to eat or spend time together on the weekends. Other than the frat party, the only time I’ve hung out with her was during our study groups. I’ve had female friends for almost our entire relationship and you’ve never batted an eye over it. Why is this one any different just because I’ve known her since we were kids?”

She sighed. “I really don’t want to talk about this over the phone.”

“I’m at work right now, but I can come over later if you want me to,” I said, tugging at the knot of my tie.

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Damien. I just need time to myself right now. I feel like you’ve been smothering me lately, and I can’t deal with this.”

Jesus, this woman was making my head spin. “I don’t understand. First, you say I’m neglecting you, and now you say I’m smothering you. Which is it?”

“It’s...it’s complicated, Damien. I just don’t know if this relationship is worth it anymore.”

“Babe, what are you saying? Are you saying you want to take a break from us?” My chest tightened as I struggled to say the words.

She paused for what felt like an eternity before answering. “I don’t know, Damien. I’ll call you in a few days,” she said, before hanging up the phone.

I stared at the screen, anger coursing through my veins. I fell back against the refrigerator, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes. My department supervisor entered the break room and saw me leaning against the fridge.

“Hey! Everything alright in here?” she asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, just dealing with some personal stuff. It’s taken care of though,” I replied. I slipped the phone in my pocket and made my way back to my desk. I sat down in my chair, powered up my laptop and opened my school email. I noticed two new emails: one from my advisor and another from Kaia. Jesus, talk about shit timing.

I sighed and opened the one from my professor. It was an outline of the things I needed to do to complete the first half of my internship. I skimmed through it, taking note of all the important parts, then replied that I would have it to her by midterms.

I closed out the email from my professor and hovered the mouse over the one from Kaia. I wasn’t sure if opening it was such a good idea, but a voice told me to do it anyway. I opened up the email and started reading.

Hey Dames!

Here are the notes from yesterday’s lecture. I highlighted everything Prof. Ross said would be on the test. Let me know if you need anything else. :)

- K.

P.S. Hope your mom is doing okay. Tell her hi for me next time you talk to her! 

Of course. I had texted her on the way to Mom’s asking her to take notes for me in class. Sure, I could have asked anyone else in that class, but let’s be real. I wasn’t going to. Any excuse to talk to her, I snatched it up like a dog with a bone. Her email was innocent enough, but just seeing her name pop up on the screen made my heart beat faster. I swallowed the lump in my throat and closed out the email. That must be why Alana was so upset. I sighed deeply and got to work on my next task. After about thirty minutes of struggling to stay focused, I powered down my laptop and walked over to my supervisor’s office.

“Hey! I have an assignment due tomorrow that I need to finish up. Do you mind if I take off?”

She looked up from her computer and nodded. “Sure thing. Just let me sign off on your timesheet and you can be on your way.” I handed her the sheet required for my internship credit hours and she initialed the document, then handed it back to me. “We’ll see you next week,” she replied, then went back to her computer.

I walked back to my desk, packed up my things and headed out. When I got to my car, I dumped my bag in the backseat, then climbed in the driver’s side. Pulling out my phone, I contemplated texting Alana. But after the conversation we had earlier, I decided to let her have her space. She would reach out to me when she was ready to talk. Until then, I had to be patient. Against my better judgment, I texted Kaia.

My breath caught in my throat. Yep, she was definitely flirting with me. Good lords, this girl was going to be the death of me. I’d been fighting feelings for her since my sophomore year of high school. It was easier back then because she was so young, but now that she was older, I was having a hard time keeping my emotions and my dick in check. If I didn’t get this sorted out soon, I was going to completely fuck up both of my relationships. I shook my head, put the car in drive, and headed back to the dorms.

***

Kaia

Sloane, Nadia and I sat in the library Monday afternoon, studying for our Comp class exam. Even though we were only a couple of weeks into the semester, our professor decided this morning that we needed to have a pop quiz on Wednesday and told us to be prepared.

“Ugh, this stuff is so confusing and not at all pertinent to my degree. What is an independent clause anyway?” Nadia whined, holding her phone in one hand.

Sloane leaned over and tapped Nadia’s note sheet. “It’s a clause that has a subject and a verb and can stand alone. Didn’t you learn this stuff in high school?”

“Psh probably. What does that even mean?”

I sighed. “It’s a complete sentence. You’d know that if you were actually reviewing your notes and not texting Steve.”

Nadia rolled her eyes and went back to her phone. “I wish we all had this class together so I could just cheat off your papers.”

Sloane snorted and I rolled my eyes, throwing a ball of wadded up paper at her. “Shut up and study.”

Nadia laughed and grabbed her highlighter, highlighting some sentences on her study guide. “Prepositional phrases are going to be the death of me.”

Ugh, this was so reminiscent of high school. I love my cousin, but she can be a bit flighty. “I’m going to be the death of you if you don’t study your notes, Miss Art Major. Just because this class isn’t,” I held up my index and middle fingers, making air quotes “pertinent to your degree, doesn’t mean you can slack off and not study. What’s going to happen when Steve gets drafted to the NFL and he dumps you for someone smart?”

“Steve would never do that. I’m too cute,” she gasped. Sloane chuckled and went back to her notes.

Ten minutes later, Nadia looked up from her study guide. “So, you guys going to Homecoming?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” I sighed, not looking up as I turned a page in my book.

“I don’t know, it might be kind of fun,” Sloane said, looking up from her study guide.

A grin spread across Nadia’s face. “I agree, Sloane. Plus, there’s so much to do! There’s the parade, the game, the dance. And Delta Sigma Phi is having another party!”

“They have parties every weekend.”

“Not like this,” Nadia retorted. “This one is supposed to be huge.”

I shook my head and went back to studying my notes. The idea of homecoming made me cringe. I only had bad memories of going. Most recently, my junior year. The game was a total blowout (the other team kicked our asses 55-0) and my boyfriend ditched me at the dance for the Homecoming Queen. I didn’t even bother going my senior year because I knew it was going to be a suckfest.

An hour and several chapters into our composition textbooks, Nadia groaned and smacked her head on the table. “I’m hungry, you guys. I say we take a break. My brain hurts.”

I pressed my forefingers to my temple and sighed. Sloane dropped her pencil on the table and removed her glasses, rubbing her eyes. “For once, I agree with Nadia. We could use a coffee break. I’m kind of going cross-eyed over here from reading and re-reading these notes.”

“Fine. I’ll go grab coffee. Who wants what?”

“Ooh. Get me a Strawberry Passion Fruit Boba Tea, please!” Nadia said. “And a banana muffin.”

“I’ll take the caramel almond latte,” Sloane replied.  I nodded and grabbed my purse, making my way to the campus coffee shop. Whoever designed this college to put a coffee shop in the library is a motherloving genius. When I arrived, there was only one person in line in front of me. I perused the menu, trying to decide which caffeinated beverage would give me the boost I needed to power through the last leg of our study session.

When it was my turn, I approached the counter and put in Sloane and Nadia’s orders. The barista asked me if that would be all, and I replied there would be one more drink, but that I was still deciding.

“You should try the Cinnamon Roll mocha. It’s indescribable,” a deep voice behind me suggested. I whipped around and came face-to-face with a tall man with warm brown eyes and jet black hair. His soft pink lips were curled into a friendly smile. It was crazy how suspiciously attractive he was. Was every guy at this school an undercover model or something? He looked familiar and I studied his face, trying to figure out where I knew him from.

“How do you know I’ll like it?” I asked him.

“You seem like the type of girl that likes sweet things,” he winked.

I blushed then turned back to the barista. “I’ll take that.” She nodded and got to work making my drinks. I turned back to the mysterious stranger. “If I don’t like this drink, you have to buy me a new one.”

“That won’t be necessary, because you’ll like it,” he laughed.

I moved over to wait for my drinks as he ordered his. I smirked when I heard him also order the Cinnamon Roll mocha. Okay, guy. I see what you’re up to. As we waited for our drinks, he moved over and grabbed a stirring straw, sticking one end in his mouth. My eyes were automatically drawn to the movement as his tongue swirled around the tip of the straw. He noticed me watching and winked. 

I cleared my throat. “So...um. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look really familiar.”

“I should. We’re in the same College Algebra class.”

I paused, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

“Yeah, you sit in the second row. Let’s just say, I may have checked you out once or twice. No big deal. And since I helped you out with your drink order, you can help me out by telling me your name.”  

I laughed. “It’s Kaia. I knew you looked familiar. And thanks for the suggestion, I guess. We’ll see how you did here in a minute.” He extended his hand and I took it, feeling his warm hand squeeze mine.

“Hi, Kaia. I’m Hayden. And trust me on this. You’re going to be so blown away by this drink, you’ll offer up your firstborn for another one.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a stack of napkins as the barista called my name and slid the tray with my drinks across the counter. I moved to collect them along with Nadia’s muffin. Hayden watched me intently as I picked up the cup marked “CR” and took a tentative sip. When the coffee hit my tongue, my tastebuds were transformed to a new world. He must have seen it by the look on my face because a huge grin spread across his.

“What did I tell you? You love it, don’t you?”

“Okay, okay. You were right on that one. Any more life-changing advice you want to give me?”

“You got something… right…” He reached over and wiped a dribble of the coffee from my chin with his thumb, then brought it to his mouth, sucking the liquid off. My breath caught in my throat at the contact. I quickly composed myself and grabbed my items. As I juggled the drink tray with shaking hands, Hayden swooped in and took it from me.

“Need a little help with that?” he asked.

“Thanks. We’re just sitting over here,” I replied, guiding him over to where Sloane and Nadia were chatting. Nadia’s eyes lit up when she saw us approaching.

“Ooh! Coffee and eye candy,” she squealed, leaping from her seat to take the tray from his hand. “Who is this tall drink of water, Kaia?”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” I eyed her incredulously.

She sat down and handed Slone her drink before taking a sip of her own. “Hey! You can look at the menu as long as you don’t order anything from it. I’m Nadia. And you are?”

I shot her a glare. “Nadia, this is Hayden. He's in my algebra class. Hayden, this is my cousin Nadia and my friend Sloane.” He leaned over the table and shook each of their hands.

“You’re in my American Government class. Do you want to sit with us?” Sloane asked, taking a sip from her coffee.

Hayden looked around the library, like he was waiting for someone, then back to me. “Oh, I don’t want to impose. Looks like you ladies have your own study group going on.”

“Nonsense. Come, have a seat next to my extremely beautiful and extremely single cousin,” Nadia insisted, motioning for Hayden to take the chair next to mine.

“Nadia!” I snapped.

He grinned and sat down, raking his eyes over my body. I blushed as I took the seat next to him. He tugged his backpack from his shoulders and dug around, pulling out a spiral notebook. He then leaned over to see what we were studying. “Well, I don’t have Comp homework, but I guess I can work on my algebra homework.”

I glanced at his notebook and nodded. “I can help you with that when we’re done here.”

He smiled, sending the butterflies in my stomach into overdrive. He had a nice smile. Sloane looked up from her notes and addressed Hayden. “So, what are you majoring in?”

He paused and took a sip of his coffee, eyeing the three of us, then swallowed. “I’m actually majoring in photography.”

“Wow! A fellow art major! How exciting,” Nadia said, extending her hand for a high-five. Hayden laughed and slapped his palm against hers.

“Photography, huh? That sounds exciting! How’d you get into that field?” I asked.

“I joined Yearbook my sophomore year of high school and took pictures for the club, and I just kind of fell in love with it. I started taking pictures for fun and ended placing second in my state’s high school photography competition.”

I placed my elbows on the table and rested my chin in my hands. Listening to him talk about his love for photography made me smile. I wish I was half as passionate about anything as he was about photography.

The four of us settled into a comfortable conversation, neglecting our studying. We talked about our favorite (and not so favorite) professors, which classes we were looking forward to taking the next four years, and which spot in the student union was best for people-watching. We learned that Nadia and Hayden also shared two classes and the same advisor. Another hour had passed when my stomach growled and I looked at my phone to see the time was 5:30 p.m.

“Holy shit, it’s dinner time. You guys wanna go grab a bite?”

“I can’t. Steve gets done with football practice soon, so we’re going out after,” Nadia said.

“I’d love to, but I have a ton of homework I need to get done for my Spanish comp class. Maybe another time.” Sloane said.

I debated texting Damien to ask if he was free, but he sounded really weird when I spoke to him a few days ago, so I let it go. I shrugged and started gathering up my books. Nadia left first, with Sloane taking off shortly after, leaving Hayden and me by ourselves. He shoved the last of his things in his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, then followed me out of the library. We walked through the courtyard toward the dorms, surveying the sun as it slowly set behind the horizon. He stopped walking then turned to me.

“I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward, but would you want to go get a bite to eat sometime?”

I stared down at my shoes, kicking a stray pebble on the pavement. He seemed nice enough. But why was I so hesitant to say yes? I shifted on my feet and looked up at him. “Oh...um...I don’t know.”

He frowned. “Hey, no big deal. I get it. Just thought I’d shoot my shot.”

“No. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that I’m not ready to date yet. I guess I’m still adjusting to the new school year. But if you’re ever up for another study group, let me know.”

He smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Do you want me to walk you to your dorm?”

“Nah. I think I’m okay. I’ll see you in class.”

“You too,” he replied and winked as he made his way to the dorms. I watched him walk away as I stood in the middle of the courtyard. What was wrong with me? This extremely good-looking and nice guy just asked me out, and I shot him down. It’s not like I already had a boyfriend, so why was I acting like a scared little bitch? I briefly considered chasing him down and saying, ‘lol j/k let’s go out sometime,’ but something held me in place. I just couldn’t figure out what it was.

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

Yours, Mine...Ours

Chapter One: Uh-Oh

The cold blows harshly through New York City. It’s nipping temperature lowering steadily while the sun hides behind the thick clouds in the sky. A strong breeze sweeps through the city as Dani steps out of her apartment. It picks her thick curls off her shoulders. A single curl gets caught on her eyelash, a mild spike of painful itching distracting her from her mission. She’s frustrated, her nerves grated to their raw ends. She suspects that aggravation is not going to end soon.

“Detective,” Manuel greets from behind the counter. He spares her a hasty glance before looking back down at the textbook he has on the counter. She has known Manuel since the first week she moved into her apartment. Manuel’s father owns the convenience store as it was passed down from his father to him. Now, Manuel’s father hopes to pass it down to Manuel. Only, Manuel wants to be a teacher. Still, he spends every night, four p.m. to twelve a.m., working the shop. He hates it but his father means more to him than spending the weekend terrorizing the neighborhood with his friends.

Dani needs one thing. Masterfully, she glides along the aisles. She gets a tub of Ben & Jerry’s, brownie bits because it’s been a long and bad day. She deserves the brownie to ice cream ratio. That and, hopefully, Manuel will look over what she’s really here for. 

Pregnancy tests.

Manuel’s hand hovers over the box, his eyes glancing up at her. A silent, quick judgment on how far he can push her on the matter at hand. The matter <i>under</i> his hand. “You good,” he asks, placing both items in the same bag. He hadn’t seen Dani in some time but he knew well enough that she hadn’t been with anyone, seriously, since Estime. Unless, of course, the brownie bits Ben & Jerry’s counts. She’s always had a stable relationship there but it’s a bit one-sided.

Dani sighs heavily and wonders if she should unload her stresses on a seventeen-year-old with enough on his plate. She glances down at his textbook, math problems cover the waxy pages. Nodding, she retrieves the bag from the counter. “I’m good. Are you though? That looks pretty complex.” She motions to the textbook and Manuel’s eyes squint.

He nods, his mind no longer wrapped up on the pregnancy test. “It’s calculus,” he explains with a sigh. The low light of the shop enhancing the bags under their eyes, the tired bloodshot scleras. “It’s driving me crazy,” he adds, frowning down at the textbook. “I’ve got a test tomorrow.”

Dani hums, shaking her head. She doesn’t miss high school. “I’ll leave you to that.” He smiles at her and she feels his eyes on her as she leaves. As she climbs the stairs back to her apartment, she realizes she’s got a test too and for the first time in her life she’s not sure if she wants to pass it or not.

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

She locks her apartment door behind her. Stopping only at the refrigerator to collect a half-finished Gatorade. It had been in the fridge for… well, she’s not sure but she’s hoping it’ll speed this process on rather quickly. 

One line.

She holds the test in one hand, head tilted. “Oh,” she chuckles, but deep down this doesn’t feel right. It feels too easy. “That’s too good to be true.” So, in pajamas, she goes back down to the corner. She buys more tests and more Gatorade, Manuel doesn’t comment. 

“This better work.” She pees on her hand a little and it’s disgusting. Then she thinks about a baby. The amount of pee and poop she’s going to get all over her hands if she’s pregnant. Five minutes pass and two lines show up. She throws the test against the wall. It breaks in half with a satisfying crack.

With her knees drawn to her chest, she sobs into her knees. She loses track of time before she stands back up. Pulling her hair into a loose bun, she drinks another Gatorade, preparing for another test.

Just to be sure.

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

“These are probably better,”  Manuel holds up a bottle of prenatal vitamins. They’re pink, unlike the blue bottle Dani is reading the back of. “I did… some research.” The comment slips right past Dani, she’s caught up more in why there are so many options. She takes the bottle from Manuel and puts in her little basket. “Have you gone to the doctor yet,” he asks.

She frowns, she’d read some blogs. Mostly, she’s looked at corporate women in business breaking down how to hide a baby bump in each trimester. She hadn’t thought about the doctors yet, not once. She can’t help the blush that creeps up her cheeks,” uh no.”

Manuel frowns but doesn’t say anything. 

“So, how’d that test go?” He steps out of the way and allows her better access to the end of the aisle. She needs to pick up healthier snacks, things to keep the babu healthy and a few of the extra ‘baby pounds’ off. 

Manuel grins at her,” about as well as yours.” She ignores his comment and he fills her in. “I got an A- but considering the class is mostly self-taught, I’m counting it as a win.” His proud little smirk melts her heart and she wonders how she’s going to pass the next few months with raging hormones. “How are… your things?”

She elects to ignore his little in tone, the inclination that he’s talking about any one of the hundred problems she has right now. Especially, the ones she told him about while tipsy on box wine three months ago. More so, the one growing in her right now. “I’m fine, Manuel.” Except she’s not. She isn’t going to tell him that though. “Ring me up?”

He looks defeat, probably hoping those raging hormones would loosen her tongue a bit. No such luck.

“Be good,” she says as she leaves him. She rolls her eyes towards the sky, what a little shit.

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

“You okay?” The small tilt of Malcolm’s head gives away that he already knows the right answer. His eyes are stupidly blue and full of compassion and genuine interest. It makes her stomach tie itself into tight little knots. Her chest feeling cracked, nearly broken as her heart races. “You don’t look like you feel well,” he adds.

She doesn’t feel good. Her mother called last night and that call ended in mutual tears and a frustrated goodbye. There’s a box of positive pregnancy tests in her bathroom. Estime won’t pick up her calls and now Malcolm… Well, he’s looking at her with those stupidly, adorable blue eyes all concerned and caring and it’s not helping. “It’s been,” she considers lying. Then she remembers that little head tilt and knows there’s no point. “I’m exhausted and this case isn’t helping.”

He sighs in agreeance, settling himself on the edge of her desk. “Wanna talk about,” he offers but it’s like bait. He’s luring her in, even if he is genuinely interested. A part of her does want to tell him. To unload all this weight she’s carrying but she hasn’t even told her mother about the baby yet. If anything, her mother and JT should know before Malcolm does. 

Right?

She pulls herself to her feet, stuffing her paperwork back into its manilla folder. She glances at him only once, knowing her mouth will come unglued if she looks too long or spares a second glance. Those blue eyes will get to her. Remind her that he cares, that he’s more than willing to let her air her dirty laundry. Why does he have to be so damn charming?

“You okay?” He seems to be asking her that a lot lately. 

“I’ll be right back,” her tight smile doesn’t bid well with him. It… it isn’t right. Dani’s smile makes the skin around her eyes lift and crinkle. It’s contagious to everyone in the room. The corner of the right side of her face always lifts a little higher than the left, crooked. This smile was forced, it wasn’t real.

She comes back from the bathroom ten minutes later. Malcolm notices how ginger she is with her stomach, a hand half raised to protect it. His mind races to fill in the problem, the anxiety and concern eating his own stomach away. She’s not okay and she’s lying. Dani never lies, at least not to him. It’s like, around him, she says every thought that happens to cross her mind. She leans into him, his touches. Of late, she’s silent and avoidant. 

Has he done something?

“She was twenty-four,” Edrisa hands them the paperwork. The killer had brutally torn apart a young woman, defiling her in such a way that made her unrecognizable. Leaving Edrisa to put her back together and take hair follicles to give their young victim a name. “Her name was Samantha Hinegrad,” Edrisa hands Gil a picture so he can pin it to their board. “She was a mother of two.”

The sudden paleness of Dani’s features all makes sense. The wrist she keeps pressed to her lower stomach, the long bathroom breaks, and the near gag at lunch when JT reheated eggs. “You’re pregnant,” the words leave his mouth softly. It’s still an accusation and they all know who at. 

All eyes turn to Dani, her paler getting suddenly worse. “W-What?” 

They both stutter. JT’s face is a cloud of mixed emotion, aggravation and confusion. It makes Malcolm uneasy, suddenly thrown off. It does the same to Dani. She stands too quickly, her stomach hurting and she knows another bout of morning sickness is washing over her.

She’s hurt, too. Naive hope had left her to believe she could do this on her own. She could keep it her little secret. It would be easy, she coached herself each morning. Just as easy as getting knocked up in the first place. Then, she had to put up her tighter fitting t-shirts, a perfect little bump protruding from her favorite. Each week, was a little harder than the one before. 

Then there was the morning sickness. That was new to this week and whoever dubbed it ‘morning’ sickness was a cruel, mistaken bastard. 

Her chair falls over as she rushes to the bathroom. She falls to her knees, hard. Nothing comes up because she hasn’t eaten since this morning. She threw up what little of the bagel she could get down. Miserable, she leans against the toilet. Letting the cool porcelain touch the bare skin where her shirt has risen up.

“Here,” warmth. Something warm is pressed into her palm and she realizes its a heating pad. A hand eases it’s way around her torso, pressing it to her stomach. The room smells of Irish Spring and fruit. Malcolm. “Have you eaten?” She allows him to pull her away from the toilet, leaning back against his boney chest instead. She shakes her head. 

He hums thoughtfully. His sensitive stomach finally coming in handy for something. “Let’s get you off the floor, yeah?” He eases her up, bearing her weight as her knees tremble underneath her. “How about some Gatorade and saltines?”

She nods her head, resigning herself to being taken care of. 

“You okay?” Gil and JT are waiting just outside the doors. She wonders if they fought over who would come in to check on her. When neither step forward to peel her away from Malcolm’s side, she has her answer. 

Malcolm mumbles something but her attention is split. She only feels the deep rattle of his voice in his chest. “Alright,” he leads her to her chair not moving away until she’s completely settled. “Saltines and Gatorade, you need or want anything else?”

 As he looks at her, crouched down on his knees she has to force her tears at bay. She can’t do this alone, she realizes. She doesn’t have to either. Malcolm smiles at her as he rises back to his feet, heading for his coat to head out into the cold, for her. JT and Gil keep nearby too, sparing her glances and small smiles. 

She’s got a family. Her baby will have one too. 

(When you could have posted this nearly three hours ago but instead have a tiny meltdown because you retook the Myers Briggs and went from an ENTP to an ENFP)

[hardforbenhardy]

somebody to love | rogerxreader

summary: roger fucking taylor. the boy in your biology class. the boy you’ve had a crush on for years. the boy who doesn’t know you exist. has recognised your existence. 

warnings: swearing, drinking, references to sex and stripping

word count: 4.0k

the first chapter of my upcoming fanfic! i’ve been working on this for a while, and it’s still not finished so i’m not sure how often i’ll update, but i’m planning on having a taglist for it so if people do like it, they can be alerted of when it comes out (if you want to be added, just pm me or send in a request!) i’m immensely proud of it and i think it’s some of my best writing - a lot of research went into it so i’m happy with the outcome so far and i hope you will be too. enjoy!! :)

There truly was no worse day than a Saturday.

I know, I know - but Saturday's are the best! There's no school, no work, you can sit around and chill all day, or go out clubbing with all your friends; maybe even pull a dude or two...

That may be the case for every single other person in the world, disincluding you. You see, your life is a little different to the usual person. Most people do spend their weekends sitting around, or going out with their friends, pulling girls and guys every night. You, on the other hand, spend it studying and working. You can safely say that taking a BSc in Biology at North East London Polytechnic was maybe the biggest mistake of your life yet. Don't get yourself wrong, you am good at it. In fact, you’re top of my class - you just struggle to balance all the studying with your job and family life.

Hence why you are sat at your dinner table, surrounded by a sea of glossy biology textbooks which contain much more information than your brain is willing to retain at this point. The words had began twisting in your eyes, no longer forming sentences but rather just squiggles on a page. Your pretty sure you have read the same page 3 times in the past hour, all information going through one ear and straight out the other. What the fuck was a bacteriophage? Or what about it being icosahedral or filamentous? And what was the difference between the lytic stage and the lysogenic stage? At this point, those weren't even words. Okay, so maybe you have been sitting here since 11 this morning, it now being 7 in the evening, but this was your standard Saturday. Having work every weekday in the evenings - 7:30pm until 3:00am - with your classes then starting as early as 9:00 on certain days, you didn't exactly have enough time to study on weekdays. Sleep was practically nonexistent for you by now, you were lucky to even get in 4 hours a night. Unfortunately for you, work also existed on Saturdays. You are probably thinking why don't you study on Sundays? Well, because Sundays were family days - you’d have to travel 3 hours to see your Ma and Pa, who would tell you how proud they were of you, doing a BSc in a subject that would get you far, and having a solid job that brought income for the whole family. Granted, they had absolutely no idea what your job actually was - and it isn't something they will ever know - but you don't really have a choice. You need to pay for your accommodation somehow, and contribute to the families bills after your father got fired from his job and went into severe debt. Therefore, it was a job you resorted to. In fact, you have work in 30 minutes, and here you are - trying to cram in a chapter's worth of course content for a test you had on Monday, surviving on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

You felt your arms begin to weaken under the weight of your head as you placed it into your palms, your eyes beginning to flutter shut as you gradually dozed off, the lack of sleep taking it's revenge. It wasn't until the loud, boisterous voice of your roommate interrupted the silence.

"Y/N, darling, have you seen my- Oh, love, what on earth is this disaster?" He cringed, sitting opposite you on the table, as you frantically sifted through the mound of worksheets for one in particular. "Look, darling, you need to sort this out. You look like you've been dragged through the bushes and back - you have work in 26 minutes and you are not even dressed!"

"Wow, thanks Freddie. Look, I don't really have a choice - if I don't have this topic nailed, I may just fail my exam, and then what? My life rides on this Fred, and I'm completely and utterly fucked if I fail." you wearily ranted, a yawn escaping your lips, which certainly didn't go unnoticed by Fred, as he placed a fresh mug of coffee in front of you - unbeknownst it was your fourth one tonight.

"Y/N, don't be so dramatic - there is only room in this flat for one hysterical queen, and I'm afraid I took that role many years ago. There is absolutely no way that you, Y/N M/N L/N, could ever fail a biology exam - you are the top of your class, and as much as you deny it, you know this content like the back of your hand. Look, I'll prove it - what is a bacteriophage, and what are the three possible shapes?"

"It's a virus which can infect and kill bacteria - the capsid of a bacteriophage can be icosahedral, filamentous, or head-tail in shape." The words simply rolled off your tongue, as you kept my focus on the textbook in front of you.

"Told you so, bet you were questioning in your head just 5 minutes ago what the fuck a bacteriophage is, and all that other shit you just said. I know you like the back of my hand, darling - you underestimate yourself far too much. Now put the fucking books away and get ready for work!" He nagged, taking a long sip of the glass of champagne he had acquired out of nowhere - typical Freddie. You didn't even respond, just simply rolled your eyes before rising to your feet to head upstairs. Freddie knew how much you hated your job, it was not exactly one praised by society. You’re what people would call an exotic dancer - or more commonly known as a stripper. It wasn't an occupation you asked for, it was rather one that was simply opened at a rather opportune moment for you. You can safely say yoinwill be taking the chance to quit as soon as you get your degree and can move on, but you’re stuck with it for the time being. You hate it on multiple levels - the feeling of having multiple older men's gaze set on your body, as if you were some kind of object, their minds wandering to all the things they could do to you if given the chance - it wasn't exactly a nice feeling. It is truly disgusting the amount of times you have been called a whore, slut, slag, floozie, tart, or prostitute - the list is ultimately endless at this point. What is even funnier is that it tends to be these same people who then turn up to your showings later on in the evening, indulging in your performance like every other male in the club. To make it worse, people often tell you you’re lucky to have guy's attention all the time - as if you should be proud of the fact that you have a body and face admirable by men. You always thought that was complete and utter bullshit - why the fuck should a guys validation make youbody and face suddenly attractive? Thankfully, most of the men who came to the club tended to be a little older than yourself - meaning there was never any guys from the university, or even better your class, who would come by. The only person who actually knows your truth is Freddie - who even though he did disapprove of it, would always try to cheer you up and make you feel more confident about it. You see, Freddie is extremely overprotective of you, he treats you like his little sister - he always wants you out of harm's way, always makes sure you were eating and getting at least 5 hours of sleep each night, always lends you money in your most desperate times of need, and opened his home to you the night you met him. It's funny actually - you remember that night so extremely vividly. He had come along to one of your performances, and ended up bumping into you backstage - you engaged in a conversation which lasted nearly the whole night, and before you knew it, it was 2am. He asked to walk you home, to which you simply had to reply with the fact you didn't have one and you were just planning on crashing on the couch in your dressing room. Of course, Freddie being Freddie invited you back to stay with him - any other person would be immediately cautious of the request, but at this point you had nothing to lose. And here you are, a month later and you were now living with him. He was basically the best roommate you could ask for.

The club is like a second home, or house - you wouldn't consider it very homely. Although the case was rare, if there was ever a point you couldn't stay at Freddie's, they allow you to sleep on the couch in the dressing room. Thankfully, your colleagues and the manager are all extremely nice people, it is more the visitors who get on your nerves and made you sick to the stomach. Basically a majority of the other girls you work with are in the same position than you; they are either college students just trying to pay off debt, or teenage mothers whose boyfriends left them after finding out they were pregnant who were trying to finance their child - everyone had their own individual story but in a way, you were all similar. Like you said, it is a second home to you, so when you stepped inside for the 6th time this week, it felt no different. The strong smell of booze and drugs no longer hit you like a brick, but rather became a second nature to your brain. The booming music, blaring at top volume from speakers which were scattered in nearly every crevice of the room, had become the norm for your eardrums - which realistically is bad for your health, but you didn’t think that's the thing that'll kill you at this point. The masses of men crowded around tables no longer made your stomach churn, now it just became the same old same old. You weren’t actually on stage until 8:00 tonight, so you don't know why they had you in half an hour early - you had already finished your makeup and got dressed. You leant against the bar, downing the first of what would be many complimentary drinks you would receive over the night - as much as you hated the job, it did have it's benefits. Free booze was probably the best thing to come out of it, when men would buy you drinks in hopes of getting you in their bed - all of them being nearly twice your age, they were never successful, but it was fun to watch 'em try. They would often strike up a conversation with you, the topic of which was always him, meaning you’d stand there responding with simple nods and the occasional burst of laughter - your mind in a completely different world of its own, usually a world of worry and anxiety of failing your exams.

"So, where is it you work? I could definitely see you working in an office or as a lawyer, I can imagine you would look very professional in a pantsuit, or even on the front cover of Vogue, you certainly have the body" The man, who had now situated himself beside you, practically purred. Was he seriously asking where you worked? What an imbecile. The whole ordeal is making you sick to your stomach, earning an eye roll in an instant - though you thought you’d play along to see where exactly he was going to go with this.

"Well, you wouldn't be interested in my life..." you laughed lightly, slowly and seductively inching closer to him. "But... I'm interested in yours. Tell me, where is it you're from, I love your accent."

"Oh, well I'm sure that isn't true, but I was actually born and bred in Italy - I moved here a few years ago, but thankfully I never lost the accent; it's a great tool for getting the girls in bed - especially the incredibly tempting ones such as yourself." He purred down your ear, you felt his breath on your neck and yourblood suddenly ran cold, as he placed his hand against the curve of your spine. Tempting?

You laughed under your breath in utter disbelief, your blood began to boil - how can someone be so small minded and narcissistic, yet spend their weeks in a strip club. "So you think I'm tempting?"

"Obviously, I mean you're super sexy and you really turn me on." He winked, and you stared at him incredulously.

"Well, you wanna know what I find incredibly tempting about you?" - he didn't speak, just simply nodded as he took a large gulp, as if he was intimidated by you. You moved closer, so that your hand was now placed against his inner thigh, and raised to your tiptoes - "There's just a deep pit burning in me, it's almost irresistible - just the thought of it is alone is so extremely enticing. I just have this immense desire to..." you whisper seductively in his ear, right as you ram your knee between his legs, making him cry out in a yell of pain and fall to his knees. " Do that." you grinned, before grasping the drink from the counter and gradually pouring it onto his head, the alcohol seeping through the thin material of his shirt, surely leaving him in a satisfying discomfort for the rest of the night, as if the hit to the balls wasn't enough. "And that"

"What the fuck? You fucking bitch!" He screamed, his voice going higher than you ever thought a man's voice could go, probably a side effect of his now undoubtedly swollen and painful misters.

You didn't respond, simply sashaying away as you raised my middle finger in his direction. You must say, after months of working in this club, you have practically become immune to the disease you like to call men. They just don't turn you on anymore. Don't get yourself wrong, not all men are like that - for example, Freddie is undoubtedly one of the sweetest human beings to walk this earth - but it seems like the men you’re surrounded by are basically parasites. Probably just a side effect of working in the hornets' nest, all kinds of trouble was stirred up in this building, it pretty much became the second (less sexual) form of entertainment for the customers. And you guess it's just your luck, because now it's your calltime. Your favourite time of the night - not. You entered the door, sighing a little. Come on, Y/N, you got this girl, just a little while longer and you can be back in the comfort of your bed. You always have to give yourself a little pep talk as you walk towards the door of what was, in a way, the gateway into Hell. That's if hell was a strip bar full of cheap and sleazy, lest we forget to mention mostly married men. All staring at you like food on a silver platter. It is quite frankly, disgusting. The walkway this week had silky, white curtains that the dancers usually appear through; as if to give the 'illusion' of us being 'angels appearing through the veil of the heavens'. You called bullshit on that one, that's also partly the reason your outfit was made up of a satin white robe, covering your lacy white lingerie. They also recently decided that the dancers should dust themselves with gold glitter before going onstage - thinking it might make you seem a little more angelic. Of course it doesn't, but you couldn’t lie - you looked incredible; the insubstantial underwear hugs your body in all the right places, yet still leaving little to the imagination; and the shimmer of gold across your chest only accentuating it more as the bright lights radiates your skin; your long locks flowing down your back, swinging with every step you took as you saunter onto the stage. Sudden cheers and whistles erupted from the crowd, the oh so familiar sound permeating the room with energy and excitement. The noise only increased as you little by little slid the satin piece down your shoulders to reveal the straps of the two-piece underneath, letting it slide down your body completely and pool around your feet on the floor. Usually, you would feel comfortable on stage, the fact you were borderlining nudity wouldn't phase youbone bit; but something felt different tonight. You have the same audience, the same form of outfit, same routine - but something feels strange, out of place, and you can't quite decipher it. You brush it off, knowing it's probably just nerves, and continue with your set - swaying around the stage, showing off your assets from every angle; and that's where you saw him.

Hidden in the corner of the room, he sat in a dimly lit spot making him barely visible thanks to the broken light which had been smashed a few days ago in a drunken bar fight. Perching forward in a lounge chair, he continually lifted the lit cigarette that was resting between his middle and index fingers towards his rosy lips, taking long drags every few seconds. As his golden, scraggly-but-still-well-groomed locks were clinging to the sides of his face, you notice his steel blue gaze dancing over your body as he scans you up and down.

Roger Fucking Taylor.

The same Roger that was in your biology class. The same Roger that was constantly trying to one up you and be the top of the class (unsuccessful in his attempts of course). The same Roger that you had had a crush on since you the course. The same Roger that didn't even know you existed. He had never been partnered with you, never spoken to you, never even looked in your direction. When you first entered the course, you had heard all about Rogers, how do I put this nicely, reputation with the ladies - making youbinstantly cringe at the utter disrespect of some of the things he had apparently done with them. But after a few weeks, you couldn't help but be drawn to him - he has an undeniable charm that he probably doesn't even know he's using half of the time, he is incredibly intelligent, and it is indisputable that he is the human form of the Greek God, Adonis, himself. You hate yourself for feeling this way, you always attempt to push it down as you know it'll do you no good in the long run. Like I said, Roger is known for his wild adventures with the women; and you weren’t one to participate in the activities of said adventures. Having a job as a stripper, people expect me to be extremely confident and out there, a lively socialite who is the life of the party, always being the centre of attention. I am, in fact, the complete opposite. When I'm not at work, I'm exceedingly reserved and introverted - I have one friend, Freddie; I only ever contribute to class when asked a question, other than that I sat at the back taking my own notes; I spend any spare time I have at home watching tv or reading a book. Therefore, I know I have a 0.00001% chance of Roger even acknowledging my existence - which I am fine with. I accepted my defeat months ago. And now, he's sat here watching me dance around, practically naked.

After finishing my set, I pace off stage- praying to Jesus that Roger didn't recognise it was me. He barely even notices me in lessons - surely he doesn't know me. What if he does though? What if he goes around school telling all his friends that I'm a fucking stripper? I'd be well and truly fucked - and not in the good way. I have never left the club faster than I did tonight, throwing on my clothes and fleeing through the backstage exit. My head is pacing, as clouds of worry and thought occupy the space - how am I ever going to face Roger again? What if he tells people? What if he is disgusted by me? I can feel my hand shaking as I try to unlock the apartment door, in which I throw open and slam behind me.

"Home so early, darling?" I could hear Freddie's voice from the living room shouting through, before the loud pop of the champagne bottle in his hand - presumably his second tonight. I threw my bag to the side before storming into the room and slumping down next to Freddie on the couch, releasing a large sigh.

"Yeah, work wasn't great" I groaned, noticing Freddie gesturing for me to take the bottle in his hand, to which I took a big swig in response; making Freddie chuckle.

"When is your work ever great? What's wrong, love?" He raised from the couch to grab himself a glass, knowing I'm not giving up this wine bottle as easily as he hoped.

"As you know, a majority of the men we get at the club are at least twice my age. Well, you remember Roger Taylor right?" I mumbled, focusing my attention to Freddie's glass which he held out in front of me, pouring the liquid in slowly as to not spill it all over the both of us.

"From your class? The one you have an undeniable love for? Yeah, I know him. What did he do?"

"Well, he turned up. He was sat in the back of the room. What am I to do Fred? What if he tells people that my job is basically prostitution? My life will be ruined. Not only that, but now my crush has seen me borderline naked, and prancing around the stage like some kind of... well, stripper" I cringed at the thought, it sounded a little stupid. Surely, I'd want my crush to see how good looking I can be? Not one bit.

"Oh god, what on earth was he doing there? Sounds like you have a bit of blackmailing yourself - Roger Taylor in a strip club-"

"Is exactly where I'd expect to find him if I'm being honest Fred - you know what he's like. I'd be surprised if it wasn't a place he visited everyday" I chimed in, I'm not lying. He is exactly the type of cocky, arrogant little shit who would find bliss in a strip club.

"Look, everything will be fine - you have two options, darling. You can either avoid him for the rest of your life, hoping he doesn't share the secret and ultimately ruin your life forever. Or you can fucking own it, and strut into school tomorrow like you are the shit and give Roger a piece of your mind - it's up to you, but I'm rooting for the second" Fred explained, trying reason with the one person he would never be able to reason with. I am quite stubborn when I want to be, and now is one of those occasions. "Now get to sleep, if you are home this early you should take advantage of it. Oh, do you have the money for rent?"

"Shit. Fuck. Fred I'm so sorry - I left in such a rush that I forgot to pick it up. I'll pay you Monday? I'm so sorry" I frettered, eyes widening at the realisation I not only couldn't pay Freddie, but I also can't pay my parents when I go down tomorrow.

"Darling, it's fine - I'll give you this week free of charge. You deserve it with all your hard work!"

Mouthing a small 'thank you', I smiled and nodded before slumping upstairs to my bedroom. As I reached my bed, I noticed all my biology books, which were previously scattered across the living room table, all stacked in the order of importance for the exam on Monday. I grinned to myself at Freddie's attempt of helping me study, although I know he only did it because he hates when I leave my books around the apartment. I can barely sleep, my eyes are refusing to close and my mind wanders back to Roger with every attempt of rest. I can't help but agonise over the situation; knowing something was going to go wrong and my life was going to be ruined.

[mss4msu]

Call Me Doctor. (Steve’s Chapter 9)

Summary: Fresh out of graduate school, you had somehow landed a spot in the faculty of a prestigious university. The small anthropology department has too many faculty and too few offices; sharing an office does not go as you expected.

Pairing: Professor!Steve x Professor!Reader 

Words: 4295

Warnings: Language and ANGST

A/N: Another chapter, another false deadline promise. I’m sorry for how late this has come out. I got dumped at the beginning of July and have had a lot to deal with since then as my ex and I lived together and I had to get him off the lease, figure out how to afford the apartment on my own (but I got a new job so I will be able to!), and start getting my apartment clean of him. But here’s a chapter. 

IMPORTANT: THIS IS WRITTEN FROM STEVE’S PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THIS DEPICTS STEVE’S VIEW FROM CHAPTER 9 OF CALL ME DOCTOR!!

Catch Up On the Story Here

“Oh, shit,” James muttered. “We should say something to her right?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve said, his face revealing the defeat he felt. “I doubt she would trust anything I said to her now anyway.”

“We can’t just let her go out with that snake,” James flopped down into a seat next to Steve. 

“No, we can’t. But do you really think she’d believe the truth about him if I told her?”

“Probably not...shit.”

Yup,” Steve began to pack up his things, “but I have a class to teach right now. Let’s get dinner tonight and figure it out.”

“Sure, I’ll be at your place at 7. I’ll grab some takeout?” 

“Yeah, sounds good,” Steve replied, leaving the library. 

Steve spent his class unable to concentrate on what he was lecturing, his mind too preoccupied on (Y/N)’s weekend plans. He finished his class early, something he had never done before, and sped home. He tried to busy himself with work, but he couldn’t stop thinking about (Y/N). 

James let himself into Steve’s apartment and found him pacing the living room.

“Alright, I brought pad thai, pineapple fried rice, and drunken noodles. I thought that might keep you from having to get actually drunk tonight.”

“Very funny,” James responded without smiling, “I don’t plan on drinking for quite a while after last weekend.”

“So what’s our game plan?” James asked as he opened up the takeout containers on the table. 

“I don’t know,” Steve slumped into a chair at the table, grabbing a fork. 

“Well that isn’t helpful,” James said before shoving a forkful of noodles into his mouth, “So we don’t think she’ll believe the truth,” James sat back thinking, “What about doing something about his tenure? Can we try to get it canceled so he has to move away? Who runs that department? Heimdall?”

“Yeah, Heimdall just became chair two years ago. I sat on a selection committee with him last year and I think I formed a good enough connection with him that he’ll listen and help out.”

“So you think he could actually do something?”

“We would have to have a reason for him. I doubt they would just fire him and I’m not sure how much I can affect their decision on his tenure in general, but I think I could convince them to at least force him to turn in book chapters sooner? I could say that the University was pressing for me to get a new book out right away, and see if anyone in that department had something they’re already working on that could take its place. It would definitely be a favor though. But that added work might mean that Loki would have to cancel the date.”

“That could work? Seems like a valid enough reason to me.”

“Should I email him or call him? Would a text work? We need to get this to him as soon as possible.”

“Is he the kind of guy who actually checks his email on the weekends?” “Yeah he is,” Steve said, pulling out his phone and typing furiously, “I’ll do that and if that doesn’t work we’ll go to Plan B?”

“What’s Plan B?” James asked, stopping his fork before it reached his mouth.

“I don’t know yet,” Steve replied, finally taking a moment to eat. 

The two men sat in silence as they ate, both thinking about the situation. After they had finished eating, the chime of Steve’s phone broke their silence. 

“It’s from Heimdall!” Steve’s heart was racing as he opened the email and read it aloud. 

“Dear Steve,

I would be happy to help out with the book deadline situation. One of our faculty, Loki Laufeyson is currently up for tenure and working on a book. I’ll let him know immediately that he needs to adjust his schedule and get things submitted faster than originally intended. 

Best,

H”

“Yes!” James exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Would it be weird if I texted (Y/N) to check?”

“Yes, it probably would be,” Steve replied, although he wanted to reach out to her too. 

The two men spent the rest of the night trying to put the situation out of their minds. After James left, when Steve got into bed, he tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. As much as he tried not to, he kept thinking of last weekend. If it hadn’t been for his drunken stupidity, (Y/N) would never had agreed to go out with Loki in the first place.

After a sleepless night, Steve awoke late on Saturday already in a bad mood. He went about his day unable to concentrate on anything as he was too busy picturing the date (Y/N) was going on the next day. He hadn’t heard anything else from Heimdall, which he hoped meant that Plan A worked. As he sat on the couch watching a movie Saturday night, trying to relax just a bit, his phone vibrated. He grabbed it quickly and thought he was going to vomit after reading the message.

Nice try, smart guy. A change in deadline isn’t going to keep me away from (Y/N). Good luck finding something that will. 

Steve immediately took a screenshot and sent it to James. Less than 30 seconds after hitting send his phone was ringing. 

“What the fuck??” James yelled through the phone. 

“That about sums up how I feel,” Steve said, defeat in his voice.

“We have to think of something else to stop him.”

“What if I just beat him up? Would that solve it?”

“Do you want (Y/N) to hate you forever?” James asked. 

Steve let out a long sigh, “You’re right. Shit.”

“What if I told her the truth?” 

“She would probably think I made something up about him and told you to tell her and then she would just end up hating you too.” 

“Damn,” James said, followed by a few minutes of silence. “God, it just makes me sick to think that lying, cheating bastard is going out with (Y/N).”    

“Me too,” Steve replied, his stomach in knots. 

“Ok, I’m going to text him something.”

“James, what are you going to text him that he will listen to?”

“I don’t know, I’ll invite him out or to work on a project or something...I’ll think of something, but I know he doesn’t hate me like he hates you, so maybe it’ll work.”

“Ok, tell me how it goes,” Steve sighed before hanging up.

An hour later Steve’s phone began to vibrate uncontrollably. He unlocked the phone and found screenshots from James.

Hey, Loki! It’s James. I’m working on a new research project about the potential of Russian spies using Nordic religious terms and concepts as code. I’m hoping to really kick this project into gear so I can have something to publish by Spring. I would really like to consult you on this project as I know you have a vested interest in part of the topic. Could we meet up tomorrow and I could get some of your expertise? 

James, as interesting as this topic seems to be, doing a quick google search I have found no reason for the two topics, those being Russian spies and Nordic religion, to be connected. I would need more information before I consider changing my schedule for you. 

I’ve found information on Russians using random phrases, like “The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west,” and I’m wondering if there are “pagan” religious connotations to them. For example, I’ve talked to (Y/N) and she said that the Egyptians made connections between colors and directions, so could that be something that this code uses? So they aren’t necessarily coming right out with the religious affiliations, but I’m wondering if that was the inspiration for them. 

You talked to (Y/N) about it already?

Yes I did. So are you willing to meet tomorrow?

I guess so. However, I am busy at 2pm and likely will continue to be preoccupied through the rest of the night.

Oh, shoot. I was actually thinking 2:00 would be perfect. I have a meeting with Natasha at 1:00 to go over the spy aspect and was hoping to be able to stack the meetings. 

Well that’s too bad. I could meet in the morning, but otherwise you will have to wait. 

Are you sure there isn’t a chance you could meet at 2:00? That would really be ideal for the project.

No. I will not miss the things I already have planned for you. 

What if I asked Nat to switch times? Could you meet at 1 instead? 

That would be cutting it close.  

I’d be happy to include you as an author on it to compensate you for your time.

Fine. I will meet you at 1:00 on campus. But this meeting can not go for more than an hour.

Loki, thank you so much for making the time to help me with this project. I’ll meet you in my office on campus at 1:00pm. See you tomorrow!

Steve’s phone rang just as he finished reading the text messages. 

“So, seems like a good plan right? I’m going to have him come to the office and then hopefully make the meeting go long so that he has to stay longer than he wanted to. And then won’t be there for the date!” James said with glee in his voice. 

“God I hope so.”

“And if he’s late, I bet (Y/N) will hate him.” 

Steve’s hopes were rising for the first time since he had first kissed (Y/N), “Buck, thank you for this.” 

“I want you to know that, as much as I love you, I’m not just doing this for you, Steve. (Y/N) is a fantastic woman and she deserves so much better than Loki. She deserves someone who won’t lie to her, cheat on her, lie to her again, make it all seem like it was her fault, and then ruin her career. You definitely made an ass of yourself and her in that bar, but I know you wouldn’t do any of that shit to her.”

“Wow, thanks, just when I was feeling a bit better you had to bring me back down.”

“Sorry man, but I have to be real with you.”

“Yep, sure.”

“Steve, we’re at Plan B. You don’t think we’ll need a Plan C do you?”

“If your plan doesn’t work, I’ll go talk to him.”

“Does that really sound like a safe and productive option?”

“Buck, if your plan doesn’t work, I’m afraid it will be the only option we have left.”

After a long pause James whispered, “Fuck.”

“I feel the same way. Hopefully it won’t come to Plan C.”

“I’ll keep you posted about tomorrow’s progress, just in case. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.”

The pounding of Steve’s heart was the only thing to break the silence after James hung up the phone. He got ready for bed and flopped down on top of the covers. He just lay there, thinking and worrying. 

Steve didn’t remember having falling asleep when he awoke Sunday morning. His neck was stiff from the angle he had slept at and he had struggle sitting up from the pain. He reached around for his phone but couldn’t find it. With panic setting in, he forced his neck to bend so he could check the floor. He picked up his phone and found it to be dead, which only increased his panic. He hastily plugged it in, and started pacing the floor, his heart thumping painfully in his chest as he waited for the phone to turn back on. As soon as he saw the screen light up he raced to his phone, holding it until it turned on. The phone finally booted up and Steve hastily unlocked it. 

It’s only 8am, he thought to himself. There’s no reason why I should have any messages yet. 

After 5 minutes of waiting and staring at the phone with no new notifications aside from a few emails, he decided there were no updates that he needed to worry about. His breathing finally started to slow down and he relaxed into bed. He scrolled through the new emails, none of which demanded replies, feeling his eyelids getting heavier with each sentence he read. He dozed off with his phone still in his hand. 

Steve awoke to a buzzing on his chest. By instinct he silenced his phone, letting out a big yawn as he groggily rubbed his eyes. He picked his phone up and turned the screen on. He instantly felt sick as he read the messages on his screen. 

Steve, Loki just got here and I think it’s gonna go well (Sent 1:00pm)

Ok, I severely misjudged this. I’ve already excused myself to the bathroom to try to kill time but I think he might be on to me. I don’t know how much longer I can keep him (Sent 1:32pm)

STEVE THE MEETING IS ALMOST OVER AND I CANT STALL HIM AND HES LEAVING TO GO TO (Y/N)’S AND YOU NEED TO STEP IN AND WE HAVE TO GO TO PLAN C (Sent 1:43pm)

STEVE HE HAS LEFT AND I COULDNT KEEP HIM AND YOU NEED TO STEP IN. WHY THE FUCK ARENT YOU ANSWERING (Sent 1:47pm)

In addition to the texts, Steve also had 5 missed calls. He looked at the time and realized he had less than 10 minutes to get to (Y/N)’s to hopefully cut Loki off before he got there. Luckily he was still in his clothes from the day before. He quickly got out of bed and ran through his apartment finding his keys, wallet, and helmet before racing out the door. He quickly jumped onto his bike and wove his way in and out of cars to get to (Y/N)’s apartment. He got to the front door with 3 minutes to spare before 2pm. Just as he was getting off his bike he saw Loki walking up the street. He took a deep breath, and walked up to the front door, standing in front of it like a club bouncer. 

“Loki,” he huffed as the other man walked up to him. 

“Steve. I wondered if I would run into you today,” Loki replied with a sly smirk twisting his lip upwards.

“We both know why I’m here.”

“Because you came to admit defeat to a real man?” Loki sneered. 

“Is there one coming?” Steve asked snidely.

“Funny,” Loki said without cracking a smile, “I’m going to need you to get out of my way now.”

“Oh really? And what are you going to do about it if I don’t?” Steve puffed out his chest. 

Loki walked up to Steve until there was just an inch between them. Although Loki had height over Steve, Steve had more muscle. 

“I am warning you one last time. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” Loki spat. 

“No.”

No sooner had Loki pushed Steve on the shoulder than Steve had grabbed his wrist and spun him so Loki’s hand was flush with his own neck. Holding Loki’s arm in a compromising position, Steve shoved him up against the apartment building, keeping him from having an exit.

“I have no problem breaking your arm right now,” Steve hissed into Loki’s ear. 

“Go ahead, tough guy. Let’s see who (Y/N) chooses if you do so.”

“Stay away from her.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“Loki. I swear to God, you better stay away from her.”

“Good thing I don’t believe in your puny God.”

Steve tightened his pull on Loki’s arm, causing a yelp from Loki.

“Fine, fine, I’ll go,” Loki said with defeat.

Steve loosened his grip on Loki’s arm, “And where will you be going?”

“On my date!” Loki exclaimed as he took advantage of Steve’s lack of grip and broke free, spinning around and punching him in the face. 

Steve was knocked backwards and just barely grabbed the end of Loki’s shirt as he ran for the door. He didn’t get a strong enough grip on the shirt tails, and Loki made it to the door and called the intercom to (Y/N)’s apartment before Steve could stop him. 

“Hello?” (Y/N)’s voice rang through the intercom, causing Steve’s stomach to flip. 

“(Y/N), apologies for my tardiness,” Loki replied giving Steve a wink and a smirk, “Are you still wanting to go out?”

“Of course!” She replied with an excitement in her voice that made Steve feel sick, “Be right down.”

“Better luck next time, Stevie,” Loki spat. 

Steve growled and got on his bike, walking it forward so he could be concealed behind a minivan parked on the street. Moments later he heard a door open. He watched through the windows of the van as (Y/N) came out the door, a huge grin on her face as she met Loki.

“(Y/N)! Again, my deepest apologies. I was held up,” Loki cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt, trying to smooth it out from where Steve had rumpled it. 

“Well you’re here now, so all is forgiven,” she smiled at him. 

“Really? Just like that? Well perfect! Shall we?” Loki asked, nodding ahead. 

“Love to,” she replied.

Loki took her hand and tucked it through and around his arm before guiding her forwards toward the main strip of shops and restaurants. Steve felt absolutely nauseous watching the events before him. He slowly walked his motorcycle down the street, creating a safe distance between himself and Loki and (Y/N) where they wouldn’t see him, but he could still hear them. 

“So, I thought we could go to three different cafes today and get drinks at one and pastries at the others,” he said, loosening up. 

“Sounds perfect,” she said, enjoying the warmth he gave off as you walked arm-in-arm. 

Steve followed them, silently, for a few blocks, pausing behind cars when Loki would look around for him. He was incredibly thankful that there wasn’t any traffic so that he could continue on with what had now become Plan D. 

When they stopped at a cafe, Steve watched as Loki held the door open for (Y/N). He waited a few minutes before parking his bike and going in after them. He quickly grabbed a newspaper from a rack near the door and walked straight to the bathroom as he saw (Y/N) in line, staring at the menu board. After they walked to their table, Steve hastily ordered a coffee to not raise suspicions.

Steve found a seat far enough away from them that he could observe, but kept the newspaper up so that he could be concealed. Although he couldn’t hear their conversations, (Y/N)’s laugh would ring through the shop. Every time he heard it, his stomach lurched. They talked for what felt like eons. Steve had reread the newspaper 8 times when he heard them walk past him, discussing where they were going next. After hearing the door shut, he put down his paper and watched the direction they left. He waited a few moments and then followed them out, trying to keep a safe distance.

When they got to another cafe, Steve repeated the same process. He waited until they were walking away with their own drinks before he ordered. He then found a table of his own near them and resumed his reading of the paper. Steve couldn’t help but slightly drop the newspaper and watch her walk away when she went to the bathroom. The hair on the back of his neck rose, as he felt like she had seen him too. He removed himself a little farther from where they had been sitting when she was in the bathroom and pulled out his phone, concealing it with the newspaper. 

Wrap this shit up, Loki.

Or what?

Or I will talk to your Department Chair and ensure you have a new reason to leave.

Ha, yeah right. What are they gonna do? Give me a deadline of tomorrow for a chapter?

A few people owe me favors, so yes, maybe they will.

The shop was quiet enough that he could hear (Y/N) asking Loki if something was wrong. Steve slipped his phone into his pocket and waited for a moment to step in. Steve watched as Loki hurried (Y/N) out of the cafe, but quickly pulled the newspaper up as Loki began looking around for him. 

Steve repeated his previous actions from the last two cafes when he went to the final one. He felt a fire building inside of him when he realized Loki had taken (Y/N) to his own personal favorite coffee shop. He watched through the window as (Y/N) looked around the shop with wonder and excitement, which made the anger inside of him grow. He wanted to have been the one to bring her here. He should be the one with her right now. Once he saw that they were getting their drinks he went inside and snapped out an order to the waitress, his anger getting the better of him. He apologized when they gave him his coffee and he found a seat to resume his watch. 

Steve sat closer to them at this cafe than he had at the others. He listened in to their conversations, the anger causing the heat to grow in him as he listened to (Y/N)’s enjoyment at being there with Loki. He couldn’t help himself, he pulled out his phone and texted Loki. 

Alright, you son of a bitch. What is it going to take to get you away from her.

He listened as Loki exclaimed about the vibration of his phone and (Y/N) excused herself to the bathroom. Steve held the newspaper up as (Y/N) walked past him, but was afraid she would become suspicious as his hands were shaking with anger and causing the newspaper to slightly move. His phone buzzed on the table before him. 

Nothing you say or do will keep me from her, Steve. I win, you lose. Get over it.

Steve had never felt more angry in his entire life. Nothing with Sharon had ever pushed him to such an anger as this. Knowing that Loki, the man who had stolen his own brother, Thor’s, girlfriend from him, dated her for a month, and then cheated on her with James’s girlfriend, and then turned the blame on Thor and James for not being enough for the women, to the point where James had a breakdown that almost caused for removal from his job due to him skipping classes and missing deadlines, was out with (Y/N) and she was actually enjoying herself had brought Steve to his breaking point. Hearing Loki laugh with her was the final straw. Steve crumpled up his newspaper and threw it to the floor. He stood up and walked towards Loki and (Y/N).

(Y/N) looked up at him and dropped her cup, which smashed into pieces as soon as it hit the floor. 

“Steve?” (Y/N) asked with confusion in her voice.

“Steven,” Loki softly said with panic in his voice. 

Seeing the show that Loki was putting on with (Y/N) just pushed Steve even further over the edge of anger. He took a moment to think and put the right words together to not raise suspicion with (Y/N). 

“Loki, any word on tenure?” he growled out, narrowing his eyes.

“None that I would tell you,” Loki spit back, puffing out his chest.

“And none that you’ll receive,” Steve said,  with an evil smirk.

“Steve, what the fuck?! Have you been following us?” She demanded. 

“I have far better things to do than spend an afternoon off following two dimwits around coffee shops,” Steve replied, the reflection of the fire from the fireplace dancing in his eyes embodying the fire he felt within himself.

Loki sarcastically laughed in response.

“Let’s just go, Loki,” (Y/N) said, offering her hand to pull Loki up from the couch, “He isn’t worth it,” She spit at Steve. 

“Gladly,” Loki replied, taking her hand.

Loki walked over to Steve with (Y/N)’s hand held tightly in his, “Rogers, if you ever threaten me again, I will take this up with the Dean and I don’t think she would be too happy to hear of it.”

Steve just growled in reply, unable to think of anything else he could say that wouldn’t get him into even more trouble with (Y/N) than he was sure he was already in. Steve didn’t bother following them. As soon as they left the anger seemed to leave his body and he was left feeling sick, sad, and lost. It was as though his heart had been crushed and stomped on by (Y/N). He felt terrible that she had been the victim of his anger once again, but even more awful that Loki was the one to pick her up.  

He slowly walked out of the cafe, apologizing quietly to the baristas for causing a scene. He trudged to his motorcycle and drove himself straight to James’s. He didn’t want to be alone. He fumbled with his keys and got himself into the apartment building. He knocked on James’s door and waited for his friend to open it. 

“Steve? What happened?” James asked after opening the door, his face falling as he looked his friend up and down. 

“We lost,” Steve choked out before entering the apartment, slumping onto the couch, and crying. 

CHAPTER TEN

Tag Lists:

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[cards-onthetable]

the strangest autumn

Note: This fluffy little Joble oneshot is meant to be read in the context of @ontherockswithsalt‘s penthouse universe. the names Cavatappi (Cav) and Tripoline (Trip) are hypothetical pasta placeholders in this hypothetical future scenario in which everything is hypothetical and nothing is real okay? Okay.

***

“Ughhh, when are we gonna be there?”

In the passenger seat, Noble suppresses a laugh at our five-year-old’s dramatic groan, leaving me to glance at Cav’s eyes in the rear view mirror and answer him. “We were in the car a lot longer yesterday and you didn’t complain once.”

“You said this was gonna be short!” He counters.

“It is! We’re like… ten minutes away.”

“Ten minutes is looooong!”

“Look out the window and tell us when you see the pumpkin signs,” Noble suggests. “That means we’re really close.”

“This thing better be worth the hype,” I mutter, low so the boys can't hear.

“It’ll be great once we actually—“

A loud wail from our three-year-old’s car seat cuts him off. “Hey, leave your brother alone,” I warn. 

“Every trip we take, you’re all negative about it until we get there and you have a great time,” Noble tells me. “Just relax and have fun, okay?”

“Not every trip we take--”

“Yeah, pretty much. You’re always too worried about having everything be perfect. But it doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be us.” His arm nudges mine on the center console. “The boys will have fun, we’ll have fun, we’ll be exhausted by the time we get home, it’s all part of the experience.”

“Well the experience of everything changing at the last minute is not my favorite.”

“Oh so you’d rather hang out with Ben and Scott than be alone with your own husband—“ he teases.

The mention of our friends catches Cav’s attention and he excitedly pipes up, “Is Cleo gonna be there?”

“Nice work,” I tell Noble as he explains again, “No buddy, remember? Cleo is sick so she had to stay home.”

I think that’s what has me on edge this weekend. Scott’s the one who did the heavy lifting as far as planning this little weekend getaway. He and Ben brought their daughter Cleo to this fall festival last year, back when Noble and I were just starting the process to become foster parents, and I’m pretty sure this damn trip was like, their number one priority the second Cav and Trip moved in with Noble and me. Seriously, Scott booked the Airbnb back in March.

So I couldn’t help but feel a little anxious about having to suddenly do all my own research when Scott and Ben bowed out because of Cleo’s strep throat. I was all ready to postpone until next weekend, or maybe cancel altogether. But they, and Noble, insisted we stick to our plans. They’re even still covering their half of the cabin. So I didn’t have much choice.

“I see the pumpkin sign!” Cav shouts a few minutes later, and sure enough a giant, bright orange wooden pumpkin alerts us that the Parker Farm Fall Festival is one mile ahead.

“Are you excited?” I ask, an appropriate amount of conjured enthusiasm in my voice.

Both boys shout proof back at me.

“Trip, are you gonna pick out a pumpkin?” Cav says. “Your very own pumpkin?”

“I want a pumpkin!” Trip replies.

“Well guess what, Papa said we both get to pick out a pumpkin!”

Cav’s habit of speaking to his little brother like that—like Trip is still a little baby who doesn’t understand anything that’s going on, like it’s Cav’s job to explain it—usually gets on my nerves but I manage to ignore it as I roll past bored teenage attendants who direct me to the next open spot in the field full of parked cars.

“We’re here!” Noble announces. “Be careful boys, we’re in a parking lot…”

Stepping out into the crisp morning air, a deep cleansing breath helps to ease that lingering tension in my gut. In my frantic, last minute research of this fall festival, I read about all the events and activities to make a mental list of everything I thought we’d all enjoy. But I know Noble’s right, I need to relax and let the day unfold organically.

It’s not about checking boxes and rushing from place to place to cover every activity that caught my eye. Hell, Cav and Trip would probably be thrilled to spend the entire damn day on the moonbounces. It’ll be a fun, memorable weekend even if we don’t make it to every single attraction.

“Is there snacks here? Can we get popcorn?” Cav chatters across the parking lot. “Can we get a pumpkin that weighs a million pounds? Are we gonna see the inside? The slimy stuff…?”

“Snacks, yes. Popcorn, we’ll see. Million pound pumpkin, only if Papa carries it to the car,” I reply.

“Nuh-uh,” Noble tells him. “I’m the brains of this operation. Daddy’s the brawn.”

“What’s brawn?”

“Brawn means big, strong muscles.”

“I have big strong muscles!” Cav brings his fists up in a flex, nearly whacking the woman in front of us in line. “I’m the brawn.”

“Hey, son, watch out for other people,” Noble warns.

“Are you going to carry a million pound pumpkin to the car?” I ask Cav.

“I carry the pumpkin!” Trip insists.

“You’ll both get to carry a pumpkin.”

“Next in line?”

Noble and I usher the boys to the painted plywood booth. “Two adults and two kids,” Noble says.

“He’s three, is he free?” I wonder, swinging Trip up onto my hip.

“Sorry, just two and under. Do you want one-day admission or weekend passes? That includes the hot air balloon launch tomorrow.”

“We’ll do the whole weekend.”

While Noble pays, I manage to get green paper wristbands onto both boys and myself. Then we emerge from the gateway into the wide, dead grass expanse of the pumpkin patch.

“Whoa it’s a—!”

Cav is already barreling forward as I turn to Noble, his face a reflection of my own caught somewhere between amusement and shock. “Did he just—?”

“What did you say, Cav?” I call.

“It’s a bitch! Dad! Take a picture!”

“It’s a witch,” I insist. “A witch is… a magical woman. Bitch is not a nice word. We don’t ever say that, okay?”

I’m sure he’s not listening to me as he poses next to the wooden board painted with a cartoon witch, cat, and frog with open ovals where their faces should be. “No buddy, you have to go behind it and put your face in the hole…” I try to explain.

“Cav, Cav. Come here.” Noble tugs him by the arm and they disappear around the back of the photo prop with Trip. A second later their heads appear in the face holes and I snap a couple of quick pictures.

“I wanna see!” Trip shouts, while behind him Cav takes off in some other direction. Noble catches my eye with a happy, goofball smirk before chasing after him and I can’t help the little laugh that escapes me.

The kids’ enthusiasm is contagious and Noble and I just follow their lead. Within the first hour we hit up a moonbounce, climb on a display tractor and a huge pile of hay bales, take a detour to the line of port-o-potties, and convince the boys to ride down the giant homemade hill slides on our laps. And they don’t let us pass any of those painted photo-op boards without stopping for more pictures.

It’s been hard, parenting Cav and Trip, in ways we didn’t quite expect. Adding two preschoolers to our family certainly took some adjustment but we were pretty well prepared for those challenges, at least as much as first-time parents can be. The part that nobody warned us about was the inevitable drama of foster care — the constant scrutiny, the arbitrary demands, the frustration of sharing kids who feel like ours with another parent whose questionable decisions drag them, and us, down all kinds of unpredictable roads.

But here, away from the relentless bustle of the city, all that feels far away — almost like a whole different life. Here it’s just us, a normal family having normal fun, nobody looking over our shoulders. Standing next to my husband, who looks all casual and innocent in jeans and a thick, dark orange cardigan like he doesn’t know what he does to me. Watching our kids squeal in delight, free and uncontained and totally fascinated by the open space and the fresh air and the pit filled with dried corn kernels that will surely find their way back to our house like a thousand unwanted souvenirs.

No obligations, no real agenda — a strange feeling, entirely unfamiliar. Just this warm, overwhelming affection blooming in my chest against the chilly air as our younger son clambers back to us from across the corn kernel sandbox.

“Daddy! I wanna ride the train!” Trip announces, pointing at the tractor dragging a chain of little orange cars behind it.

I agree easily. “Alright, let’s go ride the train. Cav!”

“No, not the train!” Cav whines. “I want to do the big one with the big tractor where there’s ghosts!”

“We’ll do that too, the big hayride. After this, though, come on.”

Noble turns to me a moment later, a knowing grin on his face as the boys rumble away on the train. “Having fun yet?”

“I suppose,” I offer my easy answer as I try for another picture of the train.

His teasing elbow digs into my side. “Give me a break, you love this shit.”

“This? Having fun with them? Sure. But the port-o-potty situation here...”

He cracks up, throwing his head back with that whole-body laugh of his that never fails to charm me. “Okay, god, I’ll handle the next bathroom break. But come on. This is amazing.”

“It is,” I acquiesce with a chuckle. “Oh, but look. We’ve got to make them keep their heads up in those picture boards. Every single one, they’re looking down at themselves.”

Flipping through my phone, he sees what I’m talking about — all these pictures of the tops of the boys’ heads sticking through face holes as they look down at their painted corn cob or scarecrow or superhero bodies.

“It’s a difficult concept, clearly,” Noble laughs. “And hey, if my choices are looking up at you or looking down at my off-brand Superman six-pack, I’d probably choose the six-pack too.”

“I don’t need anyone to paint me fake abs. I’ve got the real thing.” I smack my hand against my stomach for emphasis, a quiet thump over my zipped hoodie. “Which you could too if you cut down on the pancakes and bacon—”

“Hey, okay, some ass-flavored green smoothie might be good enough for you in the morning but I’m not sending my kids to school without a real breakfast.”

“Yes, right, you’re father of the year,” I tease. “With the dad-bod to go with it.”

“Hey!” He drops his shoulder and checks me sideways, knocking me off balance a couple of steps until I grab his arm to steady myself. “Not even close. And like, I didn’t hear you complaining yesterday morning…”

“This is a family place, dude,” I warn.

“Where’d you even learn the term dad-bod?” He scoffs. “Like you’re all young and hip or something. Old man.”

I straighten my shoulders set my narrowed gaze on him. “Old man? That’s not what you were saying yesterday morning—”

“Look who’s back!” Noble interrupts loudly as the train rolls to a stop in front of us. “Did you have fun, guys?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Cav shrugs like he’s too cool for this toddler train business. But the smile he’s failing to hide gives him away.

“Papa, I want popcorn!” Trip shouts.

“Yeah, popcorn!”

“Okay, let’s go find popcorn,” Noble agrees. As soon as he sets Trip down he’s running off with his brother, leaving the two of us to scramble quickly behind.

Our pace doesn’t seem to slow down for the rest of the day as Noble and I chase the boys around the property — moonbounces again, the petting zoo, a near-meltdown from Trip at the face painting booth, the big hayride that Cav insists on even though the sound effects that come from the bedsheet ghosts in the trees along the route freak him out. But the boys are still going strong and it’s my and Noble’s own exhaustion that finally makes us herd them to the expansive pile of choose-your-own pumpkins so we can accomplish that task and head back to the cabin for the night.

“There’s a million pumpkins!” Cav exclaims, his brown eyes wide in the waning fall sunlight. “I’m gonna get the biggest one.”

“Better get to work then, dude,” Noble tells him. “Climb on up there, go ahead.”

While Cav navigates his way to the middle of the pumpkin pile, Trip doesn’t make it past the first pumpkins he sees. “I want this one!” He shouts every time he tries to pick up a nice average-sized squash before it proves too heavy for him and he moves on to another one. I trail behind him, paying no attention to Noble and Cav climbing away in search of the biggest pumpkin they can find — which turns out to be a mistake.

“Daddy! Dad, me and Papa found the best pumpkin! It’s huuuuge!”

It takes me a second to follow Cav’s voice and then I scoop up Trip around his middle, tearing him away from his latest pumpkin of choice to reach his brother in the middle of the pile.

Noble stands on one foot with the other propped on their prize like he’s conquered it. “Look, Daddy, Cav found the one.”

“Oh he did, huh?” I pass Trip to Noble and circle to evaluate the pumpkin from all angles. “That’s a really big pumpkin, bud. I don’t know if we can even get it out of this pile to buy it.”

“Yes we can!” Cav insists. “I’ll help—” he squats, braced against nearby pumpkins, and tries to grip but his little arms barely reach halfway around this beast. He grunts and carries on with genuine effort but after an amusing moment he gives up with a sigh. “I think you gotta get it, Dad.”

“Cav, buddy, I don’t think…”

“Please?” He whines. “I want this one!”

“He wants this one!” Noble echoes.

“Then you pick it up,” I mutter at him under my breath.

Noble bounces Trip in the air and catches him. “My hands are full. It’s all you, boss.”

My dumbass husband — of course he’s over here acting like we can totally bring this thing home, he can’t say no to these kids. And I’m left to bring everyone back down to earth.

“It’s just too big—”

“Just use your muscles, Dad!” Cav insists, and dammit, I find myself humoring him too.

“Oh, geez. Alright, I’ll try. Watch out.”

Crouching, I act like I’m finding a good grip. But this thing must weigh sixty or seventy pounds, and with other pumpkins piled around it there’s no easy way for me to heave it out of here.

“I’m sorry, Cav,” I announce. “You’re going to have to choose another one. Something normal sized.”

“No, this one!”

“We can’t—”

“Please? Papa said!”

“Papa said we’d ask Daddy, and Daddy says no,” Noble interjects.

God, except for Trip losing it a little at the feeling of a paintbrush on his face — a disaster that was easily averted — we’ve had such a good day. But now Cav is nearing tantrum territory and I’m not sure anything short of this impossible pumpkin will make him happy.

I reach over and take Trip from Noble. “This is your mess,” I tell him over Cav’s indignant whining. “Come on Trip, we’ll go find you a little pumpkin.”

By now Cav has plopped his butt on a nearby pumpkin, arms crossed, facing away from us so we can’t see his classic grumpy pout. I let Trip loose with a bunch of other toddlers at an outer pile of smaller pumpkins, keeping one eye on him and one on Noble as he crouches next to Cav. Before long they get up and start perusing again. Cav still doesn’t look thrilled, but at least he seems to be moving on.

Trip is still jumping happily from small pumpkin to small pumpkin when Cav and Noble find us, a nice, reasonable, medium-sized pumpkin in Noble’s arms. “We’ve reached an agreement,” he announces. “Instead of one giant pumpkin — one medium pumpkin and one small pumpkin.”

“Yeah because medium plus small is like a big one,” Cav explains.

“Oh-kay,” I agree. “Sounds like a plan. Go ahead and pick a little one so we can go back to the cabin and watch a movie before bed.”

“Trip, you gotta go get your medium pumpkin so you have a medium one and a small one,” I hear Cav say.

“I think Trip is happy with his little one,” Noble calls before I can ask him exactly how many pumpkins we’ll be buying today.

“Couldn’t stick to the plan, could you?” I muse.

Balancing Cav’s pumpkin on one hip, he finds my hand with his free one and squeezes. “Hey, okay, the kid’s hardly seen a real pumpkin before, much less carved one—”

“I know, I know. I’m glad they have you around to make sure they get those experiences. We just need to, you know, be a little realistic.”

“And I’m glad we’ve got you to be realistic for us,” he murmurs. “Because fuck, I was not excited about carrying that beast home up three flights of stairs—”

“Shut up, you would’ve made me do it anyway,” I scoff.

“I would’ve… helped…”

“Liar.”

“I would have!” He insists.

“You’re a dirty liar,” I shoot back.

“I don’t know about liar, but that dirty part—”

“Oh god,” I cackle, leaning into him before I take the pumpkin he’s been holding. “Keep it in your pants, huh? And go help your son. That pumpkin’s about to knock him over.”

***

“Are they down?”

“Didn’t wake up at all,” Noble assures me. “Perfect transfers. I’m magical. Like a witch.”

“Oh good. Here you go.” I push a drink towards him across the counter and he takes it as he returns to the couch to turn off the Disney movie that the boys just fell asleep watching.

“This is okay,” he muses.

“Just okay? Is it not strong enough?” I take another inquisitorial sip of my own margarita.

“No, no, it’s pretty good. It’s just not, like, Ben’s Paloma good.”

I let out an incredulous laugh as I realize he’s just teasing. “Oh yeah? So you wish Ben and Scott hadn’t bailed, hmm?”

“It’d be fun if they were here,” he says. “We could play poker and I’d have some actual competition—”

“Oh!” I call out, a hand coming up to my chest like he’s wounded me. “They make better drinks, they play better cards…”

“They’d’ve let us bring home that huge pumpkin,” Noble adds.

“You’re as bad as the kids,” I tell him.

“It was an awesome pumpkin!”

“Well you know what—” I finish straightening up the small kitchen and grab my drink to join him. “I’m glad they’re not here.”

“That so?”

“Mhmm. Because if they were here, and we were playing poker and trying to carve some huge-ass pumpkin, then we’d be pretty busy.”

“Busy?” He stretches back against the couch cushions, propping one arm across the top as his gaze wanders openly down my grey t-shirt.

“Busy,” I repeat. “Too busy for this—”

Leaving my drink on the rustic end table, I smoothly drop to his lap, my knees settling on either side. With my hands free I’m quickly all over him, fingers turning his head up to meet my lips while my opposite palm slides down between us.

“Mmm, god, I’m never too busy for this.”

I shut him up with a hard, insistent kiss. He wastes no time reaching under my t-shirt, his hands a cold contrast against my skin after holding his icy glass, pushing the fabric up my torso until I duck out of it. As soon as I do, he steals the leverage I have over him and swoops me sideways, following quickly on top of me where I land on my back. My fists are in his hair, squeezing hard so I don’t make too much noise as he works biting kisses down to my shoulder.

Just as his touch trails lower, a suspicious noise from down the hallway stops us both short.

“I thought you said they were asl—”

“They were,” he insists. “Shh.”

Listening again, we’re met with only silence.

“Must've been the wind,” I conclude.

He pushes his weight off of me, sitting up on his knees. “Still. Does the bedroom door lock…?”

“I didn’t notice.”

“Let’s hope.”

I reach a hand up and he grabs my wrist, heaving me up off the couch. “What if it doesn’t?” I wonder.

“Well then.” He slides a hand into the waistband of my gym shorts, where he snaps the elastic against my skin. “I guess you’ll just have to stay quiet, won’t you?”

[misstinfoilhat]

The Boy in the Belfry Pt. 11, a Bungo Stray Dogs fic.

I might not be able to update this weekend, but you can read the whole story here. I’ve rewritten some parts for tumblr, nothing major. --- The door to the cool, tiled room opened and a familiar face appeared in the opening. A small streak of light shone on the battered face of the young teenager who sat, cradling himself on the floor.

Dazai's worried face snapped up as Mori entered the room. A twitchy but relieved smile became visible on the teens face in recognition, and Mori smiled back. Something seemed off though. Something in Mori's eyes.

Regret? Maybe even sorrow?

Dazai's faint smile morphed into a scream, as another dog was released into the room. ---

Mori stood expressionless and watched their prisoner. He had been fading in and out of consciousness since they arrived. The lack of smart remarks and smirks from his former apprentice was unnerving, to say the least. It was as if he was looking at the broken ten-year-old who he had saved from the very same man he now had returned him to, so many years ago.

Abducting him from the hospital had been easier than expected. As soon as The Babysitters Club had dispatched, he seemingly had free range. It turned out that there weren't many safety precautions there at all. Mori had walked in, wearing his old white coat and been assumed to be a doctor at the hospital. The elderly receptionist had not hesitated when giving up the room number, and he had walked in, injected the sleeping ADA agent with a mild tranquilizer, unhooked him from any tubes and wires and walked out of there with him in a wheelchair.

It was so easy that it almost felt anticlimactic. It only made him happy that the Port Mafia had their own medical wing, with a large staff and all the facilities necessary to treat any kind of sickness or injury.

The Armed Detective Agency clearly needed to step up their game.

The preacher himself was a big disappointment too. The large and intimidating figure was reduced to nothing more than a hunchbacked old man, who was clearly a little out of touch with reality and completely insane.

At the moment he was downstairs at the altar, switching between preaching and speaking in tongues to an imaginary congregation.

Mori chuckled. He had never in his life believed in any God.

Calmly, he walked towards Dazai, silently assessing his injuries and how much time he had left, if left in this hopeless state.

He reminisced about the first time he had seen Dazai. He passed the old church at random on his way to a mission, while a Sunday service had just finished. The preacher had stood grand and stoic, shaking every single hand as the crowd of people passed on their way out. Behind him stood a boy with half of his face covered in bandages, leaning heavily on crutches.

His black suit made him transparent with the dark walls of the church as he stood, terrified of meeting anyone's gaze. Almost invisible, to anyone but Mori.

To Mori, he shone bright like a firefly in the night. A forsaken soul, a fractured mind and an unforgivable sinner. He was perfect.

Mori asked around about the strange pair. It appeared that this preacher was well known in the more extremist Christian societies of the city at the time. The ones who longed and grasped at something or anything to save them and prove their faith. They would believe anything they were told (or in this case, shown, which further fueled the preacher's narcissism).

This was also the reason no one knew his actual name. In his everyday life, he had taken the name Gen'emon Tsushima (1), and he called Dazai, Shuji (2). But, he wanted to be known simply as the preacher. The Preacher. The one and only. He could show them God, but in his own mind, he probably was the man himself. There was no one registered by the names Gen’emon and Shuji Tsushima in Yokohama- not much research needed to find that out. The Preacher would only call Dazai by his real name whenever he was 'performing', an act that was exclusive and very expensive.

From that point forward, the arrangements had been easy, and Mori had manipulated the situation to seem like any other of the preacher's… gigs. 

The fact that the boy's mind had turned on his father was simply a very lucky coincidence.

Mori sighed and looked at the loosening bandages on Dazai's forearms. Every single day of Dazai's life was sketched onto his body in scars.

The leader of the Port Mafia scoffed as an ominous smile came to show on his lips.

---

“What has Skindiana Bones done this time?” sneered an aggravated Chuuya as he answered the phone.

“I might borrow that sometime,” Kunikida mumbled as he waited for the rest of the agency to get seated into the cars.

“Shut your face or tell me what's going on.”

“I wish I could, but I don't really know. Dazai disappeared from the hospital again sometime during the night.”

“I'm shocked,” he said nonchalantly, “but, I haven't heard anything from the bonehead.”

“We're going to The Shinja church right now, we've looked everywhere else.”

Kunikida waited for a reply. When it didn't come any, he continued.

“I thought you might like to know, in case you want to tag along.”

Another silent moment, before an exasperated sigh, was heard from the other end.

“Fine!” and a short 'fuck' was heard as the connection cut.

---

Chuuya wasted no time as he ran to his motorcycle. It was faster and made it easier to pass all the slowpokes on the road. He wondered if he should have told them that Dazai's father was back, but he had no idea how much they already knew. There was no time to explain.

Before starting his bike he suddenly remembered something. Another curse was whispered, as he ran back in to the house and retrieved a bag that he tucked safely in the compartment under the seat before he got on the bike and raced through the morning streets, feeling the fresh puddles of rainwater splash onto his calfs as he headed for that place that made his blood freeze. He just prayed (nonono, no way) hoped it hadn't gotten out of hand.

---

In a different part of town, two more vehicles were speeding towards the Shinja Church. There was no way to know what they would see when they arrived. Atsushi sat in the back of Kunikida's car with Kyouka, as he usually did. Restless legs shook while worried eyes looked out the windows and no one spoke.

Ranpo sat in the passenger seat up front, while Kunikda was driving. Yosano drove the other car, with Kenji and Tanizaki.

They had to park their cars across the street at a parking lot. While they all ushered out of the vehicles, a red and black motorcycle spun past them, and the redheaded driver threw his helmet to the curb and ran to the fence that embraced the dilapidated building.

“Chuuya!” Kunikida yelled as the ran across the road.

The gate was once again chained up, and the short man furiously shook the gate before he started climbing. Kunikida quickly pulled out his notebook and drew some boltcutters that he used to clip the lock.

The gate creaked open with the startled mafia executive on top of it, clinging to it desperately while it slid to the side.

“Patience, my friend,” Kenji smiled as they entered the property.

Chuuya gnarled something inaudible as he jumped off. Kunikida looked ready to open the door, but Chuuya fled up the few steps and stopped him.

“Wait,” he gasped. Kunikida looked confused at him, as Chuuya let go of his tight grip of the tall man's arm.

“The doors were bolted shut the last time we were here,” he said quietly. “There has definitely been someone in here since then. If it's...” how much should he actually tell them?

“Dazai's father?” Ranpo blurted out. Chuuya threw him a skeptical look.

“Do you already know?” he asked.

“No, we don't. It was an educated guess,” Ranpo explained, looking a bit ashamed.

“Well, you're probably right. And if this is in fact what is going on, Dazai might be in very real danger,” Chuuya explained. “Mori might be in there too. The leader of the Port Mafia.”

“Why haven't you told us this befo-” Kunikida's nostrils dilated and his cheeks flushed, but he got interrupted by a dangerous stare from the small man.

“Not the time, sunshine!” Chuuya sneered. “We need to get a move on.”

Chuuya had second thoughts, 'Shit, shit, shit, he's gonna hate me, he's gonna destroy me, completely obliviate me, he's gonna kill me...'

But, he was already here. And Dazai was in there.

He positioned himself to open the doors, and looked at the others, receiving a nod in return. They were ready.

The doors groaned loudly as they opened, and a deranged voice roamed through the voluminous room.

“Shower me in your light! I am nothing but a pawn. Please, listen to a sinners chagrin!”

The lights flickered, and the purple fog returned for the first time in twelve years.

Mori stood by the wall in the sanctuary, looking over to their newest arrivals with a satisfied grin.

Further down at the crossing, Dazai sat slumped on the stairs. He had been discarded of his hospital clothes and lay nearly bare except for the boxer shorts and bandages, half-conscious.

A couple of feet from him, stood The Preacher with his hands reached out and eyes closed as the dark haze engulfed his son's body once again.

Dazai's weak body trembled, from fear or from pain. Maybe both. The convolutions he was far too familiar with had started, turned more violent and soon he lay limp on his side.

The earth stood still. No sound, no light, no movement, no nothing.

Until suddenly Dazai arched his broken back with a loud gasp, as the blackened fog exited from his mouth and transformed to an apparition in front of him.

The newly entered crowd stood paralyzed, watching the unbelievable sight. 

Not only was this an ability that none of them had ever seen or heard of, but it worked on Dazai. The shock was even bigger as the apparition turned more and more recognizable.

Even Mori was stunned.

It was Dazai.

[bulletdove]

if u could change anything about aoaf what would u change?

AAAA this is such a good ask, thank you, i spent Way Too Fucking Long on this

(disclaimer: i don’t exactly support RPF, but i think it’s fine to consume it critically. it’s part of fandom, whether we like it or not. and fandom is an area of academic interest for me, so... you can’t understand something without researching it. yeehaw.) 

so here’s AOAF: the extended cut. ideally part of a critical edition, because i have academic aspirations.

AOAF stands on its own really well as original fiction, because it didn’t get into heavy speculation and based itself off of “what if”. but the plot was more emotionally loaded than the characters were, i think? (so as far as RPF goes, it’s not that scandalous or ethically dubious.). extended cut would be an Original Fiction type of deal, the same basis as the original one but taking the characters in a different direction and obviously renaming them

the ship plot was good, but that’s extremely Fic (which is a draw of the genre, but also seriously limits the development of non-romantic relationships) so that’d be changed. more family interactions in the present that aren’t for the sole purpose of advancing the ghostf*cking plot, flashbacks to frank and his mom and frank and ray and frank and dewees. other friends hanging out, getting to know mikey. (i need to do a reread, but ray and bob and co. weren’t really that memorable...)

higher stakes. the kidnapping scene fell flat because you knew nothing was going to happen, mikey couldn’t die because he’s mikey, all that stuff. higher stakes for the dead character, too - i need to do a reread, but plausible risk of permadeath would help intensify things.

mikey subplot is of utmost importance. barely anybody who writes RPF seems to know what to do with him as a “character” - since his public persona is/was awkward, super quiet, but still super well-liked? and nobody really wants to figure out the why and how for a minor character, since he always ends up being a minor character - but i’d like some in-depth exploration. bringing out the parallels and differences between him and frank, the dead kid and the maybe-dying kid (assuming heightened stakes), and having them hang out more, is something i’d really like.

i’d have mikey and frank be friends, but also butt heads a lot and rub each other the wrong way - mikey’s a kid and he’s terrified of dying, doesn’t want his mom and gerard and his friends back home to go on without him, wants to explore this freaky town that feels like it’s breathing down his neck [it’s creepy, but he has a good feeling about it], wants to get the chance to be a kid again but also doesn’t want to die before he has the chance to grow up, and keeps having these freaky dreams about a marching band dressed in black. frank has (mostly) made his peace with being dead, thinks his family and friends have moved on without him and been pretty okay, wanted to get the fuck out and grow up but not sell out (gay punk rights), and he knows everything about this shithole and hates that it kind of feels like home. he’s a perpetual kid who knows he can’t grow up until he leaves; mikey’s too grown up already but he’s younger and moodier and both more and less at peace with life and death. they have a lot in common, but they can seriously butt heads.

i’d give mikey a heightened awareness of the supernatural, more mobility (definitely an ill-advised wander through the woods or three), and have him and frank have weird effects on each other.

i liked the sense of weird-hazy-small town that exists out of time, and not wanting to be there but also not really being able to leave (in different ways - frank’s literally trapped, the ways are just waiting and don’t know how long they’ll be stuck there, and their estimates keep changing.) deliberately developing that by having the teenage characters thinking about college and stuff or mrs. way thinking about plans for when they move away again and finding that those plans don’t feel pressing, that they might end up there forever, and maybe that might be liveable? (there’s definitely something wrong with that town, and it’s not just frank) good shit, more emotional depth, frank freaks out but they don’t know he’s a ghost at that point and don’t get it, fuck yeah

a more complicated plotline. more subplots. i think bringing in a different mystery than frank would make it more of a traditionally Literary work, and bring out unexplored dimensions in the characters and the worldbuilding. this time maybe it’d be donna? things around town are pretty strange, the police department is definitely corrupt, her kids keep vanishing in and out of the woods and not telling her the whole truth, gothic etc etc. haven’t thought that part out very much, tbh.

more character depth and development for gerard - AOAF would be the perfect time for him, a depressed kid with a sick brother and dead ghostfriend, to get really fucked up about life and death and his relationship to them, and stop feeling like an early death is some kind of romantic inevitability and realize oh god he really doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want mikey to die it’s not fair, frank being a ghost is cool on the surface but really it’s just awful, and is it really fair for him to be dreaming about his plans for after he graduates when frank is trapped here forever, and mikey might be too? (could bring this in in the kidnapping bit, idk. and some late-night chats with donna.)

more explanation of Why Frank Is The Way He Is. more flashbacks, more backstory, more insight into how he has seriously mixed feelings about his undeath and is trying to be okay with being trapped in the woods forever but really fucking isn’t but also feels like him and the water washing over his bones run at the same frequency - it’s part of him, but he wants more. more detail about that part.

ray and frank interactions. frank looking in on ray’s family, years later.

frank exploring more of the town than the woods - he has to have stood at the edge of the woods and stared as far as he could, he must have been curious, he must have wanted to know what was going on. he gets out of the woods, runs around town, is proud of it for changing and getting kinda-sorta-better? in parts? but hates it for moving on without him. 

better ghost mechanics - i really disliked how it felt so easy and handwaved. blegh. the tree-phone was cute tho...  (frank would gain mobility in degrees, not all at once, i think. and there would be side effects. more thought needed.)

the epilogue/sequel/whatever was cute, i wouldn’t change that except to make gerard’s eventual successful career a bit more ambiguous - and maybe mikey would die instead of your suggestion of gerard dying, i think that could work maybe. might be between the main plot and the epilogue, though.

showing more of frank’s unlife, and more of the other ghosts - absolute must. mikey spends a weekend at home, sneaks out, sees a dog in the woods that isn’t there, dreams about guitar lessons. 

i swear there was other stuff that i talked about with you but i don’t remember... i didn’t mean to make this a whole Manifesto but i’m trying to get everything in in detail sfdklkfsdl rip

slower development of the romance plot, slower realization that frank is a ghost (but less over-the-top oblivious gerard), more developed main and side characters, more side characters (this story was a dudefest! where are the girls.), making the ending feel less contrived (all of their friends are suddenly there, and everything is okay? it needed a more drawn-out conclusion)

this wasn’t supposed to be this long, or take this much time >.

[hochksuzaci1984-blog]

And if there are any hardcore finance nerds, this shit is being funded primarily from the Sovereign Bank (China EXIM Bank). In the Sri Lanka situation, the bank extended a huge loan to the Sri Lanka, when they couldn be paid back, there was a huge debt for equity exchange. What really fucked up, is that the other Big 5 (China Construction Bank, Agricultural Bank of China, China Communications Bank, Industrial and Commercial Bank of China and Bank of China) are all extending similar loans to infrastructure projects. Right, I am sick of these leeches, you know, the real ones though. Like governemnt subsidies to farmers, Walmart, Target, and all these billion dollar companies. Yet people complain about Joe Schmoe getting EBT even though that has a positive 양구출장샵 retrun on investment for the government. Things such as "stand out" features are rare, and sells don depend on "stand out" features, but on advertizing. If LG for example had posters all over the world like Huawei and Samsung have, believe me, they would sell 200$ phone as an 1000$ one. Just get an average camera and you have your sells. All good advice from everyone, but I will say that having friends in a new city takes time, whether it coworkers, meetups or other. When I moved here I had 3 friends from college, and during the first few months if they weren around for the weekend. Well then I guess I wasn going to be doing too much. I am interested in many different subjects as you will soon tell by my hubs. I enjoy writing, I find it therapeutic to write down what is going on in my head. I just hope you enjoy reading it! I am a beautician/nail tech, have travelled the world, and have met a lot of interesting people along the way.. Lemon Juice is a Natural Beauty ProductI enjoy the tart taste of lemon in 양구출장샵 sweet lemonade, and when the lemon tree in my back yard began to show promises of future lemons, I thought it was time to figure out what I would do with all those lemons. I started doing a little research and discovered some pleasantly interesting facts about the lemon juice used in my lemonade. Many of the uses help maintain a healthy body and skin.. Human GI is unique because it too powerful to be contained reliably and seeps into controls and that why you have the relatively high, 1 out of 10, case for genuine good. Humans can go above that, you effectively need cyborgs with the animal side removed and replaced with electronics serving our own goals to have more good. And it is a Borg actually Conjoiner Nest from Rev Space, ie. Are especially picky in this market. They want a gorgeous home so they can show the pictures to their friends back home and make them jealous. They tend to like homes that look as close to new as possible. It's always ultimately a personal choice! I think even people like me who do have a strong opinion shouldn't be pressuring others, and I'm really sorry you've experienced that sincerely, that sucks and it's no wonder you took away a bad impression. Although I've been very open about how I feel here because of the topic of the thread, I don't normally go around telling people I think they should go cf. Imo the best approach is to recommend genuinely good cf products (that both cf/vegan and "omni" shoppers like) when someone is openly asking for suggestions, without pushing an agenda unless there's specifically an interest in discussing it.

[creamypudding]

Personal ailments

It has not been the best week. Not by a long-shot. And there isn’t a clear ending in sight just yet either. It all started the weekend before the one that just went. I was getting a really bad wax build up in both ears. But during a hair washing session on Sunday my left ear became totally blocked. I started digging at it and figured I could home-remedy this and use an over-the-counter wax dissolver and started using it on Monday. I then went to the drs office on the Thursday before going home, to have the doc inform me it wasn't soft enough to be flushed and I needed to let it sit for an hour minimum and come back next Monday to see him.

That was disappointing.

Thursday evening my partner came home saying he had a scratchy throat. We thought it's probably just him being overworked. I told him not to bother sleeping in the spare bedroom.

That night potato came to visit and I couldn't be bothered putting him back to his own bed, so I brought him into our bedroom.

The next morning, my partner woke up saying he was feeling hot. Sure enough, he had a fever. I moved out of the master bedroom with potato quicksmart, taking all the things I needed and bunkered down in potato's bedroom and put my other stuff in the main bathroom.

We still didn't think too much of my partners ailements, but we were a bit cautious with my partner isolating in the front of the house, between two different rooms, while I was in the back, in my home office that Friday. He started getting a headache and that's when shit became real. The PCR test came back positive Saturday morning.

I was supposed to get my 4th booster shot that Saturday but wasn't sure if I should still bother. Would it help? Make things worse? Did it matter? I went ahead anyway after checking with the pharmacist. I got Moderna. So far I've had three different ones and I gotta say Pfizer gave me the least (also read 'none') side effects. Moderna’s given me inflamed lymph nodes on my neck, but that's ok I guess.  It might also have given me a fever and aches but as you will soon see, I cannot pinpoint an exact cause for reasons.

So, from Saturday morning onward I got in a groove of bringing my partner breakfast, lunch, and dinner as he self-isolated in the master bedroom, while I also juggled our small fry's demands and needs for attention. We started building a paper mache dinosaur which is still a work in progress - being up to the painting stage now. On Saturday evening, Potato was walking around the house, looking for me while I was having a shower, and he wandered into the Death Zone (the master bedroom). Then potato started coughing on Sunday. A real tiny dry cough that he's had in the past. I gave him some antihistamines and we went to bed for the night, although my ear was starting to get hellishly tender and painful over that weekend. I had been picking at the wax, which was coming out. I actually got my hearing back and thought I might not need to go back to the dr’s. But then all my work came undone and I couldn't hear anything anymore in my left ear, Sunday evening. I started running a low-grade temperature Sunday evening. I was fatigued and sore. I wasn’t sure if it was the vaccine, the ear, or heck, possibly even COVID. On top of all these things, my period also decided to finally come, so the aches and fatigue could even have been because of that. There were too many options to narrow down.

My ear was the worst thing, though. I was freaking out, wondering if I had overused the spray because the shell of my ear was feeling dry. So I used olive oil to soak my ear instead, after having done research on safe alternative methods to sprays and drops.

Monday morning came. Potato's cough got worse and he ran a fever. He got COVID and needed to definitely stay at home, even though I was feeling horribly sick and wanted nothing more than to send him away to get looked after by someone else. I thought maybe my olive oil thing had fucked me over even more. I couldn’t wait until the afternoon to see the previous weeks doc, so I hurried over there in the morning, before work started. The doc I saw finally flushed out my ear. He got the tiniest kernel of wax out because I did an awesome job of picking the rest out and my hearing came rushing back. I hadn't heard that clearly in... I don't recall. It suddenly became obvious how clogged my right ear was because it sounded dull on that side. The dr said that the wax expanding is probs what made my left ear sore, though it was probbaly all the picking I did at it that irritated the skin and infected it. He told me to come back on Wednesday so he could have a look to see if there was an infection, and flush out the right side if I soak it in the wax removal stuff for the next few days. I was happy. And this was just yesterday. I could hear. Yeah, my ear fucking caned, but I could hear. It was the best thing.

It was short-lived.

By evening my ear became mega painful and my hearing went again after I had washed my hair because it was manky AF. I swear, I avoided getting water in the left ear. Instead, I definitely know I got some in the right ear, which made my hearing worse on that side.

During the night, I start getting another fever and my ear was pulsing and throbbing and fuck me, did it hurt. I still couldn’t rule out COVID, but this seemed more of an ear related issue making me feel just awful. I wanted to get my right ear cleared out but with my left being useless the last thing I wanted was to soften the wax on the right side and have no hearing in both ears. So I didn’t spray my right ear, and I’m still considering not doing it until the left has been resolved.

As you can see, a lot was happening. Potato is sick. My partner is sick, though his COVID has been mild, and he’s basically over the symptoms now but is still testing positive, so he is staying put in the Death Zone until Thursday.

I’ve been having to single parent the shit out of the household while also doing my job, which was thankfully quiet on Monday. And I thought I could handle the team meeting I had coming up the following day, and maybe even see some clients, though I decided to cancel all face to face appointments I had booked in for Wednesday and Thursday, thinking I could pull off half-days working from home, and save some of my sick leave because who knows when COVID will strike me down. But I was so sick last night. Fever, ear ache, jaw pain, fatigue. I’ve been popping pain meds at night to give me enough respite to get me back to sleep. I woke up this morning with the fever gone. But I decided I would call in sick to work for that day. Potato was burning up. I took a home test for COVID, came up negative, and went out to get pain meds for my spud as what we had was expired. He did not like the flavour. -__- I decided I couldn’t live with this ear ache any longer and my right ear was also getting more waxy and hard to hear out of, so I went to the dr’s office again to demand I get some ear drops, while also planning on getting a different flavor of meds for the spud while I was at the other pharmacy.

I was driving, enjoying the peace and sunshine and music when everything really became overwhelming. Being the sole person to look after everything: cooking, cleaning, working, looking after a sick child, and having to tend to my partner, while I have my own pains and sickness going on, is hard. I started to cry. It was too much. Being away from home, away from needing to be ‘on’ gave me the breathing space to feel how ‘too much’ it all was. And the tears made my ears clog even more, which made me cry more.

I pulled myself together for a bit but ended up crying again at the drs as I was telling him I need medicine. It was great how little he knew how to handle someone crying, telling me that ‘life is hard’. Clearly, no training in how to talk to someone in distress. But I appreciated the offered tissues nonetheless.

I got medicine for myself as well as for the spud that he did actually swallow. My ear pain has reduced, even with two doses of the ear drops. And at worst I’m running a really low-grade fever occasionally. My hearing returned for a second a bit earlier today and I can feel stuff shifting in my ear, so there is hope it’s gonna get better and clear up quickly. But I also think my ear hole is closing up with swelling. I can’t even stick my pinky nail in there. But that will hopefully resolve soon. As long as the medication can still get in there it should be okay, right? After my cry, I decided I couldn’t be Super Woman and took the rest of the week off, which is also why I needed to get to the dr, so I could get a certificate.

It's been an absolute misery over here.

And it continues to be because I don't know if I can escape COVID. I feel a bit gross in the back of my throat now. There is a funky taste back there. Like I'm congested. But that could be discharge from my ear as well. I think it’s probably discharge. My eustachian tube is fucked. I’m sure that’s what’s making it feel like I’ve got a marble stuck between my jaw joint. It’s all swollen and feels and sounds crunchy when I chew or press on it. I may need to go back to the dr before the recommended 5 days and ask for oral medication. Or maybe massaging and heat packs will help, since that seems to ease up the tight ball enough for me to consume food. I did also just now find a handy video of massage techniques, which I think I’ll practice three times a day to go along with my medicinal application. I want my partner out of ISO. I want my spud to be well again, and soon. Can I avoid catching COVID? I’m walking around with a mask on, washing my hands after I touch the tray I serve my partner his meals on, or after I touch the spud to check his temperature. It will be a miracle if I manage to not catch it, especially as I have a small child who doesn't wear a mask (and when he does he doesn't put it over his nose) nor does he cover his coughs on any real consistent basis. I don’t want to get COVID, especially not while I’m battling this other shit. I don’t want to get it at all, and it’s the biggest stress because if I get it I can’t get medical attention for this ear issue. It would suck to get through this week, only to have to take next week off because of COVID.

I miss my partner. It breaks my heart to not be able to cuddle my spud when he wants to cuddle. I hate leaving him in front of the TV all day, but I can’t be in the same room as him the entire time. So I’m up and down a lot coz he calls me. Which is another reason I gotta get my ears fixed. I can barely hear shit. It comes in handy, but not when you are the one who has to look after the spud. His dad can come out. If there is an emergency, he would come out, esp as he and potato have COVID. I just gotta vacate the premises, back to my ‘hopefully’ COVID-free spare bedroom. But that’s for emergencies. Which, thankfully, aren’t happening. 

I honestly deserve a spa retreat just for myself over a weekend, where it’s just me, a nice bath, and my laptop to write fics on. I may make that happen yet.

[eldritchsurveys]

o27.

// Random Survey Questions // By: @x-hallie-x // What was the last thing you spent a lot of time thinking about? >> Keahi, my Watcher (player character) in the Pillars of Eternity series. I was just imagining the differences between em in the first game and em in the second game, and also imagining em being sexy-flirtatious with Xoti (a character in the second game), because I’m a thot.

What do you think about astrology/the zodiac? If you used to believe/not believe in it, what changed your mind? >> I think astrology is neat. I used to hate it because all I knew about it were people saying that Geminis are two-faced and manipulative and all this other shit, and I got tired of hearing insults about me based on some arbitrary star shit (as I thought at the time). But one of my friends got me into astrology by telling me about the cool shit like natal charts and gradually I got into it. Now I’m like “don’t talk to me unless you did your birth chart ;D ;D” (honestly it’s just FUN and I really relate to what my own birth chart tells me, and I’m not going to let fun-sucking people ruin it for me).

What is one conspiracy you believe in? Or one you think is total crap? >> I don’t know... I don’t really believe in any, per se, like whole-heartedly. I just think a lot of them are interesting. I also don’t know much about any, because I never did much research into them. The geo-engineering thing sounded interesting to me because that reminds me of terraforming in science fiction and stuff, and also the X-Files-esque idea of alien conspiracies as coverups for more insidious experiments and what not? That’s pretty cool. I just think conspiracies are cool from a, like... storytelling perspective, if that makes sense.

Where was the last place you traveled to and what did you do/who did you go with? >> I went to Chicago for my birthday weekend at the end of May, with Sparrow. I went to the Shedd Aquarium, the Adler Planetarium, and the Museum of Science and Industry, and Navy Pier, and I also ate a lot of food and drank a lot of cocktails. And I got to meet my friend Loki in person after being mutuals for years! It was great.

Where was the last place you didn’t want to go but had to anyway? >> I can’t remember.

If you could be doing anything right now, what would it be? >> I mean, I’m pretty happy doing what I’m doing right now, and I don’t want to poke at that too hard and make myself dissatisfied for no reason.

What made you pick up the last book you read? Are you glad you did? >> The last book I finished was Dune Messiah, and I picked it up because I’d read the first book and wanted to keep going. Yeah, I’m glad, it’s an interesting series.

When was the last time you yelled/screamed and why? >> I don’t remember, I rarely do that.

Why is your greatest fear your greatest fear? >> I’m not sure. I think I went todash one too many times and I came back with a set of anxieties as a souvenir. I never used to get all up in my brain about death, in fact I never understood people who were anxious about it at all. And now it’s my thing. I don’t like it, but I guess I have to live with it, and I’m doing my shitting best.

What was the last big decision you made? Do you think you made the right choice? >> I’m not sure? I have a hard time remembering stuff like this.

If you could have any animal as a pet (in a magic universe where wild animals can be tame or something!) what animal would you choose? >> A DRAGON. A WHOLE ASS DRAGON. Fuck it.

What Hogwarts house are you in? What do you think about the “stereotypes” regarding your house? >> I’m a Slytherclaw! I used to get annoyed at unnecessarily negative Slytherin stereotypes but like... meh, whatever. The whole House system is based on stereotypes in the first place, so that’s to be expected. 

What is your favorite song to sing? How about dance to? Do the DO to? >> I’m going to pick random favourites since I don’t have just ONE favourite anything, haha. To sing: Some Time Ago... by Dethklok To dance to: This Corrosion by Sisters of Mercy To get freaknasty to: Some Kind of Stranger by Sisters of Mercy

What is something you want to do, but you don’t think you’ll ever be able to? >> I’d like to live in a community, like a real community where people know and support one another, and share things, and look out for each other’s children, and make you feel like you belong to them. I just... I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever have that.

Have you ever given something up for another person? >> Sure, I mean, I can’t think of any examples right off the top of my head, but I’m pretty sure that’s happened before.

What was wrong with you the last time you felt sick? >> Drank too much, probably.

What is something about your personality that you hope never changes? >> I hope I’m always curious about things and eager to learn.

If you could be famous/known for something, what would you want it to be? >> I really don’t know.

Do you prefer to watch movies with other people or by yourself? >> I like watching movies with other people! But sometimes people’s movie rules don’t match up with mine (like, I don’t mind people talking during movies unless they’re really deep ones and I need to concentrate... but a lot of people don’t want any talking at all, and that’s too much for me). And sometimes people are like... just no fun to watch movies with, you know the kind of person, where they complain about everything or say “that looks so fake lol” or stuff like that? Buzzkills. Fuck that. But! other than that, sure, I like to watch with other people. It’s fun.

What, if anything, are you trying to change about yourself? >> I’m not really trying to change anything, more trying to adapt to myself and be kinder and more patient to myself. Trying to live by example, yanno. And also I’m just tired of struggling with myself, lmao.

How would you describe your soul (old, young, wise, like some sort of animal, flower, etc)? >> I’m a Singularity! The infinite fathomless unknown core of a supermassive black hole, which could be anything from a single point of pure light to a silent void to an entire universe in its own right. The fact that we (humanity) don’t know what’s inside of a black hole makes it an infinity of possibilities (and I think that’s what it is anyway, not just ONE THING or THIS OTHER THING, but all things -- the Prim, the primordial soup, taking shapes when observed but otherwise purely infinite), and that’s me!

Where were you when you first listened to your favorite song? Did it become a favorite immediately or later on? >> Hmm... well, I know I was in New Orleans when I first heard Volbeat’s A Broken Man and the Dawn, which is one of my favourite songs. It did become a favourite immediately.

When was the last time you were embarrassed? >> I don’t remember. It’s not something that sticks, which is what I tell myself when I do get embarrassed -- I’m literally going to forget about it in a day, so no point dwelling on it. ...I think that’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, though. If I don’t dwell on it, then I don’t form memory anchors, which is why I forget about it in a day. Ha! Brain: HACKED

When was the last time you felt especially good about yourself? >> Probably either the last time Hallie said something nice about me :’) or the last time Can Calah said something about his observations of me over time.

What was the last thing you ate? Would you have preferred something else? If so, what? >> I ate a veggie burger with spinach on it, and sweet maui onion chips. Also, it took me like four tries just now to remember how to spell “maui”, for some reason, lmfao. And nah, I was cool with that.

The last time you drank alcohol, what were you doing/who were you with? >> I drank a glass of Rosé yesterday because it was World Rosé Day. That’s an improvement, because usually I just drink the bottle lmfao but nope, just that one glass, and it took me like 2 hours to finish it! This is going better than I expected. I have decided not to drink again until Wednesday (because Wednesday, yanno), and I already set out what I’m going to drink that day and I’m not going to deviate from it. If you want to help hold me accountable, here’s what I chose: one (1) bottle of Backwoods Bastard and one (1) glass of 1000 Stories wine. That’s my limit! Anyway, back to the actual question -- I was just hanging out at home with Sparrow tumblin’ and watching Parts Unknown.

What kind of a drunk are you? >> A... talkative one? A giggly one? A maudlin one, oftentimes. I know the big thing is that people drink to forget their emotional stuff, but I drink to access it.

What’s the most fun you’ve ever had on a drug/trip? >> Oh, man, I don’t even know. There have been a lot of fun trips. So many. One time we took dex and went walking around the Upper West Side and ran into this band performing on the street and they said if you give them a word they’ll make up a song about it on the spot and Sigma said “otters” and Crystal said “threesomes” and so they made up a song about otter threesomes. I’ve seen and felt so much of the pure ridiculous amazingness of NYC while tripping that I can’t even process it all.

What’s the most dangerous or risky thing you’ve ever done? Did you enjoy it or regret it? >> I guess the times I’ve shipped myself across state lines to live with people I’d met online and never before seen in person until then. Like, you know, you hear the horror stories. But nothing close to that has ever happened to me.

From how far up have you fallen/jumped before? >> I threw myself down a flight of stairs once. On purpose. I was also todash, so. (I was completely fine after, physically. Yeah, I don’t know how, either.)

Other than this survey, what was the last thing to get on your nerves? >> THIS SURVEY IS BOMB WHAT DO YOU MEAN Uh... hmm. I don’t remember. :/a

What was the last thing to make you laugh? >> I don’t remember but I also just thought about BZONKED and started laughing again.

What is an inside joke you have between you and a friend/etc? >> Well there’s BZONKED and HOT GATORADE and also hey Hallie remember skagit... >:3

What was the last new thing you learned? >> I don’t remember.

How would you describe your blog content? Do you only reblog specific things or does anything go? >> My personal blog is just... stuff I love, I guess, and stuff I care about. But like, there’s stuff I love that I have other blogs for, specifically -- oedonvevo is for memes and shitposts and fandom overflow (stuff that I like but don’t necessarily want to clog my main blog with); and oedon is for my RPG fandom stuff, my OCs and headcanons; and fuzzbones is for cute shit. And this, of course, is for surveys.

When was the last time you left somewhere for forever (or at least don’t plan on returning)? >> I guess when I moved out of New York two years ago.

What is the most destructive thing you’ve done? >> I’m not sure.

What was the last big decision you made? Do you think you made the right choice? >> Psst this one’s a repeat question! ;D

What video game are you playing now? Do you prefer to play alone or with others/multiplayer games/online games? >> I’m playing like 48479837 at once, tbh. Nah, actually, right now I have World of Warcraft, Elder Scrolls Online, Final Fantasy XIV, Guild Wars 2, Pillars of Eternity, and Mass Effect Andromeda (which I feel like I’m NEVER going to finish) going. I also have save files on Torchlight II, Skyrim, Oblivion, Torment: Tides of Numenera, and a couple of others that I sometimes go back and poke around on. I just really love my video games, lmao. And I prefer to play by myself, because I have a low sense of confidence in my ability to play well with others. But as you can see, I also play four different MMOs, so I’m slowly learning how to get over my lack of confidence and just... ignore the assholes and look for the friendly people.

What was the last thing you found? >> MY SANITY yeah just kidding that’s still lost and I ain’t lookin for it

When will you be going out again and where? >> I’m not sure, actually.

Do you prefer to stay at home or do you like to be out and about? Where are your favorite places to go? >> I love to go out and about, but I... really don’t like where I live, unfortunately, so it’s a real downer. I spend a lot of time beating myself up about it, and I’m trying to stop, but you know... old habits. Also, like, I’m used to living in a big city, a big multicultural city, lived in one for most of my adult life, and it’s a hard adjustment, still. I don’t know how to meet people or do things here, nothing makes sense to me. And I feel culturally alienated as fuck. So, you know. I mostly just stay home. :/

Generally (or specificially, hell idc) what would you like your dream life to look like? >> I don’t really have a dream life, I just know I would like to live in a city again -- ideally New Orleans. And I want to have meatspace friends along with my internet friends! And I want to have money to travel.

When was the last time something about your life changed drastically/what happened? >> I guess the biggest recent change is getting back with Hallie, although like... you know how sometimes a big change happens and it should feel more strange, but it... isn’t? Like, I don’t want to diminish how big of a thing this is, but it also kind of just feels... comfortable enough that it doesn’t shake up my life a whole lot. There are things to adjust to, but they’re not like SUPER HARD OMG adjustments or anything, in fact they’re probably pretty helpful to my growth as a person, so I’m cool with them.

What is one talent you wish you had? What about one you are working on? >> Hmm. I’m not sure. I like the skills I have. :3 I guess I’m constantly working on my gaming skills, and I tend to think that I’m not improving but if you look back over the past 6 or so years, I have definitely improved. I can’t even deny that to myself. So that’s good!

What makes you feel “not good enough”? >> Thinking about employment.

What was the last thing you quit? >> I didn’t quit drinking, but I quit drinking the way I was drinking. 

What is one drug you want to try? With who/where? >> Shrooms, but I’m also... well, you know, after all the going-todash and whatnot, I’m understandably anxious about it. But I’d like to try it with a friend who is experienced with them and will do them with me, and a friend who will be sober and kinda just looking out for us (me especially lmao). That would be the ideal situation.

Has any movie totally freaked you out? What’s the craziest movie you’ve ever watched? >> District 9 did, but that was because I had been up for 4 days straight and my understanding of reality was starting to shit itself anyway. The craziest movie I’ve seen is probably Antichrist, or A Serbian Film, for two different reasons. The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus was also pretty wild, and so was Mirrormask. And let’s not discount Sunshine...

What is something you don’t like to do alone? >> Drugs.

What about something you only like to do alone (like, something besides the expected things)? >> I’m not sure. It’s really just the expected things. Most things I don’t like to do with just anyone, but that doesn’t mean I only want to do them by myself, either.

What is something you find difficult that many others do not? >> Employment.

When was the last time you smiled and why? >> I don’t remember. I don’t really notice when I do, all the time.

Do you like to help people? How about animals? Which would you rather help, if it applies? >> I guess so, yeah. Like, it’s not a huge impulse of mine or anything, but generally I’d prefer to be helpful than to be apathetic or hurtful. Although sometimes those other two things happen too, since I’m... a whole person and not just an archetype of one. Anyway, I’m probably biased towards humans, because... I am one, I guess. I don’t know. I like animals and I respect them, but what little affective empathy I have is reserved for people. It’s not an infinite resource, unfortunately. 

What was the last thing you wasted? >> I don’t remember. Probably water, like running the faucet or something.

What was your last purchase?  >> The two Zeal & Ardor albums off Amazon!

As an adult, what is the most & least you’ve weighed? >> 145, I’d say, and 110.

Who was the last person to leave your life and what caused this to happen, if anything? >> Sigma. It’s... well, it really is a long story, and I’m guessing it’ll get told in pieces over the course of survey-taking, but telling it in one shot is nigh impossible. There’s a lot of fucking shit to unpack.

What was the last compliment you recieved? Insult? >> The last compliment... probably from Hallie, in a survey, haha. I don’t remember the last insult.

What did you order at the last restaurant you went to? >> The last place I ordered food at was Wendy’s and I got a chicken sandwich and fries.

When you are sad/etc, what kinds of things help you feel less shitty? >> Funny/cute TV shows, music, stuffed animals (stim therapy in general, like wrapping up in a blanket or finding a way to pressure-stim or doing repetitive motion), people doing silly shit or memes (that depends, though, sometimes it doesn’t get through to me but sometimes it does!), sitting outside on a sunny quiet day for a little bit, watching animals doing animal things, eating a good food (especially if someone brought it for me).

What’s the latest you’ve stayed up this past week? Latest you slept in? >> I haven’t stayed up late at all! I’ve been going to bed at midnight and it’s been working pretty well so far. The latest I’ve slept was to about 10a but that was also because I got woken up in the middle of my sleep so my REM cycle and shit was all thrown off.

Is there anything you feel like you have to do every single day or its not complete? >> Hmm... a survey ;D lmao I don’t know

What was the last chore you did? >> I don’t remember.

What is causing the most stress/anxiety in your life right now? Will this situation end/resolve soon? >> Nothing specific, just like... feelings of personal doom and stuff like that, nothing logical, just... todash leftovers, I guess. I hope it resolves soon, but I’m afraid I might just have to... live like this. :T I wonder if there’s a like... chill anti-anxiety med I can take sometimes or something.

When you think about outer space, what thoughts/feelings come to mind? >> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What is the most immature thing you do (or laugh at)? >> I laugh at stupid sex jokes all the time. Like, the stupider the better. “hurr hurr bone” that sort of thing.

Have you ever intentionally hurt someone? >> Yeah. I’m a sadist and I’ve known at least one masochist, soooo.... ;p But if you mean like.... in a mean nonconsensual way, maybe? I don’t remember any specific times, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t ever.

What was the last lie you told? Did anyone notice? Did you feel bad? >> I don’t remember. I don’t really have much use for lies. 

When was the last time you went to the doctor? >> February or so.

Have you ever been in therapy? If so, what did you think of the experiences? >> Yes, and now I’ve got all this NEW trauma to unpack! THANKS, THERAPY!!!

What kinds of clothing do you like to wear? >> Oh, a bunch. I just don’t feel like... comfortable in everything, you know? Like even stuff I like! I like it on other people, or I like it in the store, but when I put it on it’s just Wrong. I’m either the wrong height or the wrong weight or my features don’t fit the look or I’m too ungainly in it or... I don’t know. Meh.

What is something you like that no one else you know likes too? >> I mean, I know a lot of people (online lol), so... yeah, I don’t think there’s anything like this.

What is something you don’t like that everyone seems to like? >> Napoleon Dynamite. I just didn’t like it, but it’s not like... a big deal or anything. Sometimes you just don’t like things. I just think it’s funny that I can’t think of anyone else who doesn’t like it.

Do you judge other people based on the foods they eat? >> Nah. Life is short, brah. Eat up (or don’t? hehe).

Do you follow a particular diet/meal-plan/ethic? >> No, I think the closest thing to a “diet” that I’d like to follow is the Mediterranean diet, but that’s because I love Mediterranean food and the whole food culture and everything. It’s really just about what makes me feel good to eat, what I enjoy seeing on a plate, what just speaks to me, and that’s it.

Are you involved in politics or do you tend to avoid them? Is there a reason for this? >> I tend to avoid them, because I don’t know shit about shit and while I care about specific things (like, I think I should be able to live without facing violence because of some aspect of my identity, yanno), I don’t.... I don’t really have enough rage to like... be an activist or anything. I support people who are fighting for these things! I just... it’s not my thing. And actual politics, like who’s in government? I just assume they’re all corrupt -- not because they’re bad people, but because they’re caught in this sticky web of a system where you’re forced to be ruthless and conniving and two-faced and like... after a while it becomes normal for you. I would hate to be a politician, because no matter how you start out, you either end up dying or living long enough to see yourself become the villain. That’s just how it is. :c

What is a subject you tend to avoid with other people, for whatever reason? >> Religion. Because inevitably someone’s going to start talking about how all religion is bad, and then I’ll have to leave. (But like, my friends and SOs are fine! I actually love talking about religion with people that are into it the way I am, like it’s a big special interest of mine and I am so excited when I run into people who enjoy talking about religion and culture and mythology and how important it all is to being human. I even like talking to people who have become disillusioned with organised religion and have ideas about how they’d like it to be, or even just people who have the same religious traumas I have and are trying to cope. But like... well, you know. Some People, lmao. Can’t talk about shit with them.)

When was the last time you changed your mind about something? What made things change? >> I don’t remember, but listen, I’m a Gemini, I change my mind all the time.

If there was a colony on Mars and you could actually feasibly go live there, would you want to? >> HELL YEAH WTF THAT’D BE DOPE AS SHIT but like can I have dual citizenship because I also love Earth and I wouldn’t want to leave it forever-forever :’(

What kinds of things make you homesick, or do you get homesick very much? >> Photos of Jackson Square or the Mississippi River, zydeco music, certain foods and smells, a bag of Zapp’s from Potbelly, Purple Haze beer, certain songs in my library... and yeah, I get homesick all the time. It’s a real problem.

What is the longest (or most involved) thing you’ve ever written? >> I wrote a story that’s still up on deviantART, called Once Thought Damned, and it’s basically really derivative of the kind of books I was into back then (paranormal erotic romance), but I also still really love those characters and the stories I was trying to tell in my fumbling “haven’t found my voice yet” sort of way, and I still think about them all the time. But yeah, I think it’s... at least 50k words long, and took me a few years to finish. So I’m proud of that.

If you could choose, would you be yourself or someone else? >> I don’t know what it’s like to be anyone but me, so how could I choose? Hell, selfhood is weird enough as it is without this question messin me up xD

What is something you really like - it could be anything - just gush! >> Oh, I would gush, but also I need to conserve my energy, this is a long survey! ;D

What about something you just can’t stand, a pet peeve, a resentment, etc? >> I really don’t like when people make fun of people for being excited about things. It doesn’t matter what the thing is. I just... I really don’t like that. You don’t have to like whatever it is, but just... don’t fucking piss on their parade, okay? No one asked for your downer ass opinion anyway.

What is the highest elevation you’ve been to? >> I don’t know! I guess it was probably someplace in Colorado, though.

What do you think of love? >> I think it’s fascinating. I think I don’t understand it most of the time, and that’s okay too. I think sometimes that love is the exact nature of the willful force that shapes reality. I think it’s something science should leave to the poets and mystics, although science never will, because that’s the nature of science, and that’s... actually okay, too.

What is one food you used to like but no longer do? >> Cosmic Brownies. I used to eat them a lot because they’re cheap and calorie-dense and when you’re on food stamps that’s pretty great. But... god. GOD. I could gag just thinking about them, now.

How would you describe your eating habits? >> I don’t know that I can! I try to eat as well as possible but I also try not to give into neurosis about it (that uh... orthorexia? is that what it’s called? that’s a hole that’s really fuckin easy to fall into). I try to enjoy what I eat. I try to go for variety and colour and fun arrangements and weird combinations. I try to show love for myself by eating things that make me feel good.

Do you prefer to live with others or by yourself? Why is this? >> I prefer to live with others because I’m crazy, and I spiral downwards really quickly by myself. I depend on others to keep me grounded, because I’m not exactly fully... In Reality(tm). I also have a lot of, uh... like, weird autistic issues like the idea of cleaning bathrooms making me want to scream and claw my skin off, so it’s nice to live with someone who doesn’t have those issues and is willing to do it for me. Also, I literally cannot afford to live by myself, so, you know.

What scares you about getting older? >> The idea of infirmity isn’t a fun one. I’ve been spoiled by having a healthy body all these years, the idea of the slow decline is therefore unnerving. But I think I can handle that, realistically, I just... fear(tm). Also, of course, I’m afraid I’ll never stop being anxious about death. I want to know that I’ll have enough time to come to terms with it.

What is one thing you find attractive? >> Vulnerability. (Which is probably at the root of a lot of my kinks, like desperation and shit.)

Who did you last tell a secret to? Or just sensitive info? >> lmao I told Hallie who the person was that I had a crush on but didn’t want to mention in the survey I’d taken. :p

What kind of blogs do you follow? >> Man I follow almost 900 blogs, I don’t even know where to begin. (I used to follow around 1200, so that’s actually a conservative number for me.)

Have you made any good friends online? How long have you known them? >> Sure, I suppose I could say that. I’ve had some mutuals for anywhere from 6 months to like 4+ years. And there’s Elle, who I’ve known since my VF days, so since 2009. Almost ten years!

What is something really weird/embarrassing that you’ve done? >> I tried to use one of those menstrual cup things once and then I couldn’t get it out and I had a meltdown in the bathroom and Sigma had to come take it out for me. That’s the first thing that came to mind, lmao. I fucking hate those things with a violent passion and I will never use one again.

What about something you’ve done that sounds too wild to believe? >> I had a one-night stand with Aur-elio Vol/taire. (I put the slash and dash in to keep his name out of searches, lmao.)

What does it mean to you to trust someone? >> I guess that I give them the tools to hurt me with the faith that they won’t use those tools in that way (not intentionally anyway -- so I also have the faith that if they do hurt me, it’s probably unintentional and I should at least give them a chance to explain themselves). Or something like that.

What was the last thing you drank? >> Water.

What’s the weather doing where you are? >> It’s cool and cloudy.

What was the last thing to go completely wrong? >> Oh man I tried to make this fuckin flapjack cup microwave thing last week sometime and I put water in it instead of milk by accident and it just came out so bad. (It says water OR milk but let me tell you, it means JUST MILK, anything else is GROSS)

What kinds of things do you like to talk about? >> I can’t think of too many things I don’t like to talk about. I just don’t like to talk about some things with just anyone.

What was the last thing someone made fun of you for? >> I don’t remember. Probably Sparrow making fun of me for being a thirsty binch.

Name a book or movie from childhood that holds a special place in your heart? >> The Phantom Tollbooth.

What are some of your favorite words/word meanings? >> My mind is starting to melt lmao I don’t want to think this hard

When was the last time you procrastinated something? >> I procrastinated vacuuming and then I just straight up forgot to do it at all.

What mood/attitude do you tend to have when taking surveys, or does it vary? >> Usually I’m just... chill, like I usually am.

Has another survey-taker ever bitched you out for one of your answers?  >> Probably, in the past when the survey-taking crowd was a little more incestuous.

Have you ever bitched anyone out for theirs? >> No, that’s just rude.

How did you celebrate the most recent holiday? >> I don’t celebrate Memorial Day lmao fuck that it was MY BIRTHDAY and THAT’S IT

How does your birthday make you feel? >> Pretty good, usually.

How would you describe your relationship with your parents? Has it always been this way? >> I never knew my mother (she tried to visit a few times but she didn’t seem to want to know who I was, really, and I’m pretty sure at least one of those visits was just a ploy to try to get back in bed with my dad or something), and my relationship with my father has been tempestuous and not entirely great at times because he was not very compassionate and I was a seething bundle of traumas and emotional neglect but I still love and appreciate him. Unfortunately I’ve lost contact with him and I don’t know how to regain it, so that’s that, I guess.

What is the longest amount of time you’ve spent alone (or mostly alone, since this is the age of the internet and all, hah)? >> I’m not sure. I mean, I lived alone for almost a year (2009) with minimal outside contact and that was... hell... but like... normally I’m never alone for that long.

What was the last thing you asked for help with?  >> I don’t remember. But I finished this survey! It was very good. c: