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queenjunoking · 4 years ago

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Wolf Taming pt 36

CW: Noncon - Pain - Petplay - Drugs - Kidnapping - Manipulation

Sasha

I felt disoriented when I woke up. It took me a few moments to start remembering a few things. There were still a few blank spots in my memory though.

I remembered Z.

I remembered the humiliation and pain she inflicted upon me.

I remembered kicking her ass before she had to cheat.

I remembered that she seemed afraid of something?

But the rest was lost in the cloud for a moment. I tried to open my eyes, but it just made me feel worse. I just tried my best to not vomit as the world spun a bit.

I tried to move, to grab for the bars of the cage to help ground myself, but something was holding my arms crossed behind my back. After a few moments of struggling I gave up trying to get out of whatever it was. Just something else Z had done to me while I was asleep.

I tried to call out, but there was something in my mouth muffling my speech. Some kind of padded bar. I tried to spit it out, but quickly found out it was stuck. I needed to open my eyes and see what was going on. I slowly peeled my eyes open, trying my best to deal with the dizziness as it came.

My heart jumped into my throat. I could see a wooden door in front of me. My vision was much more narrow and limited. There was something on my head that blocked the sides of my vision, only letting me see forward. I tried to stand but I immediately lost my balance and fell. I looked down at my feet and saw some kind of heelless boots strapped to my feet. I tried to kick them off but they wouldn’t budge. They may as well be glued on. I couldn’t see it well, but I could feel a series of leather strapped around my torso. A harness of some sort most likely given the rest of the things I was wearing.

The holes in my memory began to fill in. Z said someone was going to take me away from her. She gave me a drug that would let me sleep away to delay what was going to happen to me. Apparently it had finally worn off.

The wooden door suddenly squeaked open and two women walked in. They looked like rich snobs. They were dressed like they rode horses professionally.

“Good morning Callidora.” Another name. One almost worse than the one I was given by the last sociopath.

“Or evening based on your perspective I guess.” The other one said, holding out a leash and attaching it to a ring on my harness.

“Normally we wait to do this until daytime, but Mistress Eos has left instructions that you are going to be doing your first marathon tonight. Isn’t that exciting?” The first one spoke again, sounding a bit nervous.

The second one gave the harness a tug, trying to pull me out of the room I was in. I dug in the best I could, pulling her back with me.

“A little help?” The second one snapped at the first one.

“Oh, sorry.” The first one grabbed onto the leash and began pulling with the first one.

Neither were very strong, but it was a losing battle. There were no heels on these boots for me to use to dig in. They slowly just pulled me out of the stall. But it gave me time to start formulating a plan.

Once we reached the edge of the room I smiled to myself. They were pulling with all their might. So I went with them and jolted forward. The sudden lack of tension sent them crashing into the ground and they let go of the leash. I took a quick look around and saw that I was in a barn of some kind.

There was an exit not too far away. I bolted as fast as I could towards it. Freedom was so close.

But then someone stood in the way. It was a woman with short black hair. I could see a collar around her neck and cuffs around her wrist. I tried to avoid her, but there was only so fast I could run in these boots. She grabbed the leash trailing behind me and pulled. The force sent me to the ground.

“Ah, Callidora! I’m glad to see you’re awake and so eager to start your run.” She used the leash to forcefully pull me back to my feet. I glared at her and tried to yell at her, but it came out as jumbled nonsense. “Ah, a feisty one. I love that look in your eyes.”

She pulled on the leash, forcing me closer and closer to her until we were face to face. “I especially like watching that spunky light in the eyes of ponies go out as they’re broken in the perfect little racers.”

I did the only thing I could. I pulled my leg back and with all the force I could manage I drove my knee directly into her gut.

After the commotion died down a bit a band in the corner began to play. They were dressed nicely, but on closer inspection you could see their legs chained to the floor. It was an extravagance most members would want to deal with. Performers were difficult to deal with and mistakes could ruin events. It was easier to just shell out the money and pay an actual band to play, but I guess Rayne and Flora never did things the easy way.

I followed Rayne and Flora as they made their way around the room, making sure I was a few behind them rather than being with them. Flora made it a point to interrupt any conversation that seemed particularly active while ignoring the more casual ones. She’d walk up and the group would part for her and shower her with happy birthdays and compliments.

It must be nice to be surrounded by yes men all the time.

After about half an hour of doing this on repeat as we moved from group to group Rayne suddenly spoke up.

“I’ll be back in a moment my pretty peony, I have to check to make sure everything is set up for a bit of fun later.” She gave Flora a kiss and left us alone to go and talk with a woman in a purple dress. I saw the woman in purple smirk and then the two vanished down a hallway.

“So, Z. How are you enjoying the party?” Flora’s voice dragged my attention away from the two.

“It's… different.” It was overwhelming. There were so many people here. They made so much noise. It was louder than the auction house and it was making it difficult to keep my attention on anything in particular. “I’m not used to events like these. The auction house occasionally throws galas but I typically avoided them. Having an event like this be my first one is… well a lot.” I tried to punctuate my statement with a laugh, but it felt more awkward than I thought it would.

“Have you had anything to eat?” She reached out and grabbed a passing maid by her collar and pulled her back. I could see her eyes widen as she tried to stay on her feet and not drop the plates she was carrying.

“I haven’t. I typically don’t eat much.” I probably wouldn’t if I didn’t need it. I had better things to do than cook for myself or sit down for meals.

“I can tell, you really should eat more. You never know when you’ll need that energy.” Flora smiled and picked up a piece of chocolate off the plate and popped it into her mouth. She looked at me and gestured to the plate. “Please, dear, have one. Gold Medal chocolates. They’re unfortunately quite delicious. It’s so unfair that Eos can make these. As much as the world would suffer without them, I do hope her cow kicks the bucket so she can’t profit off of them anymore.”

Those words ate through the noise. I had a job to accomplish here and it was just easier to just do whatever dumb thing she asked of me to keep her from getting upset. I took one off the plate and popped it into my mouth. I wanted to hate it. I didn’t like chocolate. But it was unreasonably good. It seemed unfair that the bitterness I felt didn’t seep into the chocolate.

“Good, isn’t it?” There was an odd smugness in Flora’s voice I didn’t quite understand.

Unfortunately the bitterness seeped out of my mouth. “Unfortunately.”

The food was a gift. An expensive one at that, I was aware these chocolates carried a hefty price tag that I’d never dream of paying. Insulting something like that was very frowned upon.

But Flora just laughed. “Isn’t it? Nothing wrong with being bitter, Z. Not everyone gets what they deserve, for better or worse. Some people, like Eos, get more than they ever deserved to get. Others… well-”

She was cut off when Rayne walked back into the room. “Greetings guests. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves. But let’s not forget what this night is truly about.” Rayne approached Flora, tipped her head up, and kissed her. “It’s about my darling daffodil’s birthday. We’ll be moving to the next room in a moment. We’ll choose a few gifts at random for her to open in front of everyone. We’ll open the rest on our own later on.”

Rayne motioned for the crowd to move into the next room. I followed close behind Flora and Rayne. Was this the entertainment Rayne had been talking about? It was basically a roulette wheel. Having your gift chosen to be opened in front of everyone brought everyone’s attention on you and your gift. If Flora didn’t like it your status could sink. If she did you could probably milk it for some leniency if you asked her for a favor.

I did my best to keep up, but the sea of guests all trying to enter into the other room cut me off from the two. I decided to just stay back and just wait until the crow dissipated before I attempted to catch up.

“Watch it!” I heard a shrill voice call out. I looked into a sea of people and saw a woman with a ponytail chastising the woman in purple I had seen earlier.

“Apologies, Miss Rhiannon. I tripped.” Scout laughed awkwardly. She looked almost as out of place as I did. She cleaned up better than I did, but despite that she didn’t seem to be a high society kind of person.

“Whatever, just get out of my way. If I missed a front row seat I’m going to be pissed.” I could feel my blood boil as she spoke. She wasn’t much better than her aunt. Though at least Eos technically had accomplishments. Rhiannon was just a spoiled brat.

Eventually the crowd thinned enough that I could make my way through. In the front was Flora sitting behind a table. Beside her was a table piled high with presents. There were about 20 chairs set up facing Flora with the rest of the guests standing towards the back. All the spots were filled, but I kept walking towards the front. I didn’t want to get lost in the crowd if I was supposed to still be following the two around.

“Excuse me!” I felt a hand grab my arm as I tried to pass the front row so I could speak to Flora. I looked down at an older man with a greying beard that looked fairly peeved. “There are no spots open. Go to the back with the others, these are the spots for people who matter.”

I narrowed my eyes and was about to say something I was probably going to regret, but I was luckily interrupted by Rayne. “Ah, Z. I was wondering where you ran off too.”

She walked over from the present table and stood in front of me. She glanced down at the man holding my arm and he slowly let go. “You’re right Archibald. These seats are for the people who matter. Z has an epithet and you haven’t accomplished anything in the sixty years you’ve been a member other than sit on the money your parents made.”

“M-master Rayne I don’t think that's a fai-” Rayne didn’t wait for him to finish. Her hand shot out and gripped Archibald around the collar. With ease she pulled him out of his chair and threw him to the ground.

She gestured to the empty seat. “Seat’s just opened up Z.” I took the seat and watched Rayne step over Archibald. “Anyone without a seat stands in the back.”

Archibald turned bright red and walked towards the back. He was livid, but doing anything right now was basically suicide. The crowd in the back had their eyes on him as he joined them. He had lost a lot of face and I had a feeling he would never truly recover from it.

The crowd had quieted down after Archibald got thrown to the ground, but it was silent once Rayne stood beside Flora.

Rayne was about to say something, but Flora interrupted before she could get a word out. “Rayne? I want to open the red present with the purple ribbon.”

Rayne looked through the pile and found the one Flora had requested and placed it on the table in front of her. She carefully undid the ribbon and took the top off the box and peeked inside. She had an unreadable expression as she reached in and pulled out a small black box. She frowned and looked at the name-tag again.

“Virgil? I’m afraid I don’t know what this is.” She frowned at it and looked a bit bored.

I heard him stand up and clear his throat. I turned to look at him along with most of the people in the front rows. “Apologies, Lady Flora. I realize it’s not the most obvious gift. Had I thought I might be lucky enough for my gift to be on display I would have had it all packed in a larger box together.” Rayne cleared her throat, signaling to him to hurry it up. “Uh, right. So that’s part of a device made by a friend of mine. It goes along with a pad to stand on and some… let’s say fun instruments. The box is a camera of sorts. You have someone stand on the pad and turn on the camera. You can record them or even stream it live.”

Flora seemed a bit more interested. “So it’s mostly just a camera. What’s the point of this pad I’ve yet to see?”

“There are instructions for an app you can download that will let you set a pose. Once you press the button the camera knows exactly how the person should be standing and if they aren’t it sends a signal to one of the fun instruments for various effects. The pad helps the camera know how a person should be standing so it doesn’t go off on accident or fail to go off when it should. It also doubles as a pedestal.” Virgil shrugged. “You seem to have a love of still life statues, I thought this might be interesting to you, it would even let you show off some of them in real time if you were ever interested in sharing that with more people.”

Flora smiled at that and carefully placed the camera back in the box. “Thank you Virgil, it’s an interesting gift and I can’t wait to try it out.” He seemed relieved that Flora liked the gift and sat back down. “How about you choose the next one, raindrop? I’d love to see which you’ll pick.” Flora smiled up at Rayne.

“If that’s what you’d like my delightful daisy.” Rayne turned to the present table and examined it for a few moments before choosing a small green box that could fit into the palm of her hand. “Sometimes the best presents come in small boxes.”

“So wise.” Flora laughed a bit and untied the ribbon. She smiled as she opened the box, excited to see what she had been gifted.

But the smile vanished as quickly as it came.

Flora frowned and looked down into the box. No one was speaking before, but the silence became more taut now. A drop of a pin would sound like an explosion. She dropped the top of the small box onto the table and the thud resonated throughout the room. She then turned the box upside down.

“Empty.” She read the tag on the box and then locked eyes with Emerald. “Miss Pluto. I invited you into my home, to a party for the best of the best to mingle and meet. Provided everyone here with the best food and drink money could buy. Did I do something to offend you? What did I do to deserve this at my party?”

The eyes in the room moved off of Flora and over to Emerald. I expected her to be upset, getting called out like this was dangerous for everyone involved. But Emerald wasn’t afraid.

She was angry.

“Lady Flora, I hate to be the one to spoil what is in a gift. They’re supposed to be surprises. But I made my gift. I know you enjoy the many rare and hard to acquire things the Society makes and I know you have been unable to get a hold of a certain kind of flower. My present was a miniature gemstone carved into a purple rose encased in resin so it could be worn around your neck.” Emerald crossed her arms and turned towards the crowd in the back. “Despite my talent I am not ashamed to say it took dozens of attempts to work on something that small and delicate. It’s a priceless piece that ultimately took hundreds of hours of repeated attempts to make. Not only has it been stolen from Lady Flora, it is an insult to me that someone else thinks they should have it.”

“I’d like to believe you, Emerald. I really would.” Emerald turned back around when Flora spoke up. “It sounds like a very lovely and thoughtful gift. You and my beloved raindrop’s family’s are so close. So let’s see if we can find it. No one has left the party yet.” Flora crossed her arms, pouted, and looked up at Rayne. “I want all the guests searched.”

Flora, as always, got what she wanted. A few maids brought in another table and Rayne patted down a few people to start. Once they were cleared Rayne chose a few people she trusted to help search people. A couple people would go up to one of the tables at a time and get patted down. If they were carrying a bag it was emptied onto a table to be sifted through before they could gather their things and stand off to the side.

Despite standing with Flora the entire night, I was patted down before I went to stand behind Flora. Rayne said she was only being fair by including me, though I never thought Rayne would be one to expend effort in the name of fairness.

The process was taking forever. They were making their way through the people who were seated. Almost twenty minutes had passed and only the last row remained at this point. It seemed like a lost cause. What idiot would just hold onto it?

I looked over the crowd standing in the back. None of them dared to look impatient, but I doubt that any of them wanted to be standing there. I managed to catch eyes with Briar who just shrugged at me. This incident was eating into my time to talk to Flora about Sasha.

“Alright.” Rayne sighed. “I guess we have to check the bac-”

She was caught off with a man at the table beside Flora yelling out “ah-ha!” followed by the sound of someone hitting the table.

“Let go of me!” I looked over at the table and saw Rhiannon being held against the table by the man, one hand keeping her head pressed to the table while his other hand kept her arms held behind her back.

“Master Rayne, Lady Flora. On the table.” The man gestured to the table with his head, making sure not to let Rhiannon up.

Flora, Rayne and I looked at the table and saw a small necklace on the table. I heard Flora gasp softly. She was apparently pleased with the newly returned gift. Emerald wasn’t exaggerating. It was a fairly small orb that contained an entire miniature rose that appeared to be chiseled out of some kind of gemstone. The stem and thorns were some green gemstone and the flower was a purple gemstone. The petals were so thin you could almost see through them. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how something like this was made.

Rayne walked over to the table and hooked a finger through the chain and examined the necklace. “Rhiannon? I’m surprised with you. Here I thought our families were friends. Are you not doing your probation with a metal smith, why steal a piece of jewelry made by another family of metal smiths?”

“I wasn’t the one who fucking took it!” Rhiannon screamed as the man struggled to keep her held against the table.

“Then why was it in your bag?” Rayne asked, dangling the necklace in front of her face.

“S-someone must have slipped it in there!” Rhiannon was hyperventilating, struggling to figure out an answer.

Rayne just rolled her eyes. “Someone slipped it in there? You’re saying someone not only had the gall to steal from my beloved buttercup, but they also just decided to slip it into your bag? What do you think their plan was? Steal it back from you later?”

“Y-yes! No! I-I don’t know!” Tears were streaming down her face. “I w-wouldn’t take it! I swear.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.” She turned to the man holding Rhiannon. “I hate to ask a guest for assistance, but since you have her would you take her to our cells in the basement? Unfortunately I’ll have to get the enforcers involved.”

He simply nodded and a maid approached to lead him away. The crowd in the back of the room moved at of the way as the three made their way out. All of their eyes were on Rhiannon.

She continued to cry as she was dragged out of the room, but Rayne couldn’t help but get one last jab in. “Oh, Rhiannon?”

“Y-y-yes?” The man stopped dragging her out of the room for a moment and Rhiannon calmed down, a look of hope on her face.

“I’ll be speaking to the Gia family personally about the status of your probation.” Rayne gave her a smirk as Rhiannon’s eyes widened.

“Y-you can’t do this to me. Please! I didn’t do anything wrong!” Rhiannon’s screams were even louder than before, any pretense of dignity was gone.

“Why are you doing this to me!?” Was the last thing she screamed before she was pulled into the hallway and the door was shut behind her. Her words echoed through the room for a moment before they joined the silence of the crowd.

Rayne twirled the necklace around her finger before she turned around and approached Flora. She unclasped the necklace and carefully put it around Flora’s neck before tilting her head up and giving her a deep, passionate kiss.

After the uncomfortably long kiss they parted stared into each other's eyes for a moment before Rayne turned around to address the crowd.

“So, how about we enjoy dessert before the cops arrive?”

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doc-pickles · 4 years ago

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it’s nothing funny just to talk (p.2)

What happens when you text that random number graffitied on a bathroom stall in your favorite bar? Jo Wilson is about to find out. - In which Bar Princess and Doctor Evil Spawn meet via text.

Saturday 12:09 PM

you know what might be worse than pyramid schemes?

bridal showers

this is horrendous

Same woman you were drinking in solidarity to?

obviously, I have like four friends

I thought teachers were like outgoing and bubbly?

oh hell no, socializing is not my cup of tea

one of the other bridesmaids just asked who i was texting so I told her jack the ripper

Oh you couldn’t even give me a good one

i’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that

My day off and the weekend finally coincide, which means I’m not leaving my couch all day.

I wish I were you this shower is gonna kill me

teachers on the weekend are a fun sight to see

You’re not partaking this time?

no i’m DD

it’s for the best, I did throw up on my shoes last weekend

How crazy is a bridal shower that you need a DD?

there’s a mimosa bar and they’re already playing never have I ever

the mother of the groom is starting something with the mother of the bride

I gotta deal with this

Saturday 3:11 PM

I deserve bottle of wine for all of the shit I dealt with today

I never wanna be a maid of honor ever again

Maybe we should rename you Maid of Dishonor?

wooooooow

I throw up on my shoes ONE TIME

How’d the battle of the mothers go?

oh it was horrendous

groom is from a rich family and bride grew up on a farm… you know how it goes

Doesn’t sound fun. Glad you made it out.

barely

how’s your day off going

Amazing. I get to watch baseball and sit on the couch with a bag of chips and a beer. I’m living the dream.

I envy you

they’re making us go out again

Do you get to drink during this escapade?

yes thank god

manhattan or moscow mule?

A whiskey drinker? You might be the perfect woman.

don’t try to butter me up, i’ve never even met you in person

We can change that.

Saturday 6:14 PM

Do you think birds have dreams?

I thought I was supposed to get drunk

You were talking too long. And I’m not drunk.

I can’t think of another reason why you’d ask me about bird dreams

You’re a teacher. I was curios.

i’m not a bird specialist

personally I do not think that birds can dream

I’m telling them you said that.

the birds?

Yes. They deserve to know the truth.

have you just been sitting on the couch drinking beer all day?

did you even eat

Yeah I had pizza for lunch

what about dinner?

It’s not dinner time yet.

dude it’s 6

Oh shit really?

Hahaha that explains it

psh and you said I was bad when I was drunk

you’re freaking Snow White

Is this ebcause I asked about the birds

yes it is

I gotta go, Maggie says i’m not netting the quota for fun

Maggie sounds like a buzzkill

she’s the assistant principal, i’m scared she’ll fire me if I don’t listen

jk… kinda

Saturday 12:32 AM

Incoming Voice Call

“Jo! Put the phone down! You should not be calling anyone right now!”

“Hello?”

“Doctor Evil Spawn! I’m so glad you picked up.”

“Are you drunk now?”

“Noooo….. maybe. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Hi princess.”

“Your voice is nice. It’s a good voice, it’s sexy and I like it.”

“You’re kinda crazy, you know that?”

“Josephine Wilson! Give me the phone!”

“Woah who full named you? They sound angry.”

“That’s Maggie, she’s trying to get me to go home. I can’t go home Maggie, I’m talking to a hot doctor! And he has a sexy voice!”

“You’ve never even seen me, you don’t know if I’m hot.”

“I’m judging off your sexy voice and what few characteristics I know about you. I’d be shocked if you weren’t hot.”

“You have too much faith in me.”

“I have to go, Maggie is dragging me out of the bar. Byeeee hot doctor!”

“Goodnight princess, don’t throw up on your shoes this time.”

Sunday 9:58 AM

How’re your shoes looking?

Sunday 11:22 AM

You’re still dead? I mean you did call me half past midnight… but I thought you’d be up by now.

Sunday 1:46 PM

Are you embarrassed because of what you said on the phone? Frankly I found it endearing.

Sunday 3:18 PM

As a doctor, I’m advising you to drink more fluids and get food in your system. Maybe a banana. It’ll make you feel less shitty, trust me.

Sunday 6:17 PM

Hope you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere.

Monday 7:23 AM

oh my god I am so sorry

I dropped my phone in Maggie’s car and I just got it back

wait you were worried about me weren’t you

Well you fell off the face of the earth… so yeah.

awwww well it’s nice to know that someone would notice if I was kidnapped and murdered

Didn’t you say I was the one that would kidnap and murder you?

yes but i’m having a change of heart

Is it because of my sexy voice?

I was kinda hoping I didn’t say that out loud

whoops

I told you I found it endearing.

flattery will get you everywhere

gotta go, class is lining up and they’re already screaming

I’ll pray for you.

Monday 8:08 PM

dude the thai place on 7th across from old navy?

amazing

i’m in heaven

Oh so we’ve reached the stage of giving each other food recommendations?

obviously

this is a serious relationship

Chinese place across from Joe’s Bar has the best egg rolls. Perfect drunchies.

i’ve never been to joe’s

I live right around the corner from there

So we’re neighbors then? I’m off of Fullerton.

I guess we are

that’s exciting, i bet i’ve seen you at the grocery store

Bold of you to assume I make it to the grocery store.

honestly same

I usually guilt steph or izzie into it

You’re the chaotic good of the group aren’t you?

obviously

I keep things balanced

what’re you doing?

On a break, almost done for the night. I have to round on post ops and then I’m done.

nice!!! did you get anything fun today?

Not really just surgeries I could do in my sleep.

typical monday’s

I have to go, we have a field trip tomorrow and i’m not emotionally prepared

Oof. Have fun, don’t die.

who the hell ends texts like that?

A doctor. Obviously. Night princess.

goodnight Snow White

Tuesday 12:18 PM

whoever decided to bring 42 fourth graders to the science discovery museum should be fired

Isn’t that you?

maybe

maybe not

It was totally you. How about a deal?

deal with an internet stranger?

fine but if I die i’m gonna be pissed

How about I drop off a bottle of wine on your porch on my way to work? I work the night shift again.

hmmmm I don’t think i’m supposed to give my address to strangers

but i’m pretty sure if you were going to kill me you would’ve done it by now

See you’re getting the hang of it.

okay i’ll give you my address

but if there’s a bomb we’re going to have words

If there’s a bomb you’ll be dead.

Tuesday 4:54 PM

red wine AND egg rolls?

if I didn’t know better i’d think you’re trying to woo me

I think I need to meet you before we can say that.

thank you!!!

my roomies are teasing me about taking wine from a stranger

You’re welcome. And I’m not a stranger. I know your name and where you live.

aaaaand way to make things creepy

BTW your blonde roommate was checking out my ass.

hahahahaha that’s izzie for you

she has a boyfriend don’t worry

I wasn’t too concerned about her, just thought you might want to beat her up or something.

intentionally trying to start a cat fight? classy

she says you’re “super dreamy” so that’s a plus

Glad to know I passed the checkpoint. Does this mean I get to meet you now?

maybe maybe not

we have learned one good thing though

And what’s that?

even if you are a serial killer, you have a good taste in wine and your attractive

i’ll die happy

Tuesday 7:32 AM

If I never work another overnight again it’ll be too soon.

yeah you’ve been working a lot of those

wtf is up with that

I lost a bet with Arizona.

oof that doesn’t sound fun

at least I have nice stable working hours

summers off

i’m living the dream

Why do you do that?

do what?

Send forty texts. There’s a button to put in a period and start a new sentence. In the same text.

you really do text like a 60 year old

I’m sophisticated, obviously.

I know we’ve never met but I need a favor

Oof. After I dropped off wine for you?

the favor includes free food and alcohol

I’m listening…

that wedding i’m in is next weekend

and I don’t have a date :-)

I wish I could, I’m going out of town.

booooo

it’s okay, after i’m done being a brides bitch my weekend will open up

i’ll also be done with school for year

So I can take you out on a proper date? Instead of texting you all day?

you do realize that you’re texting a girl who found your number at 11 pm while shit faced in a bar right

That’s always how I pictured meeting the woman of my dreams.

oh shut up

I suppose i’ll go on a date with you, man I know nothing about

I’m Alex, I’m 27 and I don’t think pineapple belongs on pizza

deal breaker sorry

pineapple + pizza = deliciousness

Well at least you know more about me.

that I do

jo, 25, who’s favorite color is purple and eats cinnamon toast for breakfast everyday, has to go educate the tiny humans

talk to you later old man

Oh come on you’re two years younger!

Tuesday 1:26 PM

have you ever had to hot glue rhinestones to candle votives

because I am

and I hate it

WTF is a votive?

those tiny little glass things you put a candle into

Oh. Why are you bedazzling them?

wedding prep

today is a half day so bridezilla has us crafting for her

Are all of you brides bitches teachers?

yes

it’s hell

you try to talk about your class and all you hear about is peonies and roses and baby’s breath

I’m glad I’m a dude then.

ha! you better be

oh my god, she’s gone psycho

if I don’t text she took my phone

Don’t die, I’m looking forward to our date.

Tuesday 7:17 PM

RIP Jo, Avid Cinnamon Toast Eater

Killed by Her Insane Bride Friend

I made it out!!!!

barely

Nice, I’ve heard a rabid bridezilla is hard to escape.

it was the worst

but she let me go when I told her I had to finish putting in grades for the year

(I finished last night)

I for one am proud of you. That’s badass.

lol i’ll keep that in mind

thursday is our last day before freedom

I think I might get shit faced as soon as I leave work

I support it wholeheartedly.

good because you’ll probably get more bar princess texts

Or if I’m lucky a phone call where you call me sexy again.

hey hey I didn’t call you sexy

I called your voice sexy

there’s a difference

Oh sorry, I don’t know how I overlooked that.

mhm sure

tomorrow is crazy hair day

Does this mean I get to see a picture of you? Because I’m definitely interested in seeing what you do with this spirit day thing.

i’ll save it for when we meet

I’m determined not to see you until our date

Suit yourself. Gotta go remove stitches.

oooohh how exhilarating!!

Wednesday 9:42 AM

How goes the crazy hair?

oh just dandy

half my hair is pink

You seem like the type to be able to pull of pink hair. Plus it’s pretty rad.

you’re too kind

I bribed the kids with cookies and a movie

i’m totally winning today

I just took out an appendix, I think I win.

just saying I don’t think that our jobs are comparable

but taking out an appendix sounds cool

Not as cool as cookies though.

I have a bunch left over

should I drop them on your doorstep?

Only if you want to. I wouldn’t say no to a good cookie. I’m here till 5.

i’ll stop by after work!!

we have another half day

Sweet. I’m glad you’re the one that found my number.

Wednesday 12:56 PM

Dude. George says you look like an adorable preschooler.

I FORGOT I HAD MY HAIR LIKE THIS

he was very understanding

Rave reviews on your “kindness and beautiful eyes”

oh my god

I have to die now

He might’ve mentioned your ass too. I’m painting a beautiful mental picture.

oh lord

brb gotta wash out this stupid hair dye

maybe bang my head against the shower wall

Oooh tell me more. I love a dirty shower fantasy.

oh booo

you’re not even trying anymore

Wednesday 5:55 PM

remember the titans is on tv

and it’s really good

in case you didn’t know

That movie is 20 years old, of course I know it’s good.

well clearly I didn’t

i didn’t have cable growing up

Oh neither did I, I just stole it from the neighbors.

that’s pretty bad ass for a kid

Had to keep my siblings entertained. You know how it is.

nope i’m an only child

That sounds like a dream. I have two younger siblings and they’re both a pain in the ass.

if you knew the half of it you’d be begging to trade places with me

I’m looking forward to hearing all of it.

Thursday 11:53 AM

FREEDOM!!!!!!

I AM FREE!!!!

HALLELUJAH!!!!!

I’m assuming school is out?

Y E S

$20 says I can sneak out of here without bridezilla roping me into a stupid arts and crafts project

I hope so, I’m enjoying talking to you today.

aren’t you at work??

Nope. Today is my day off.

and you’re not watching baseball and drinking beer?

It’s not even noon yet.

time is an illusion

it’s shots o clock somewhere or whatever they say

I’m now learning that the only cultural education you have is the Backstreet Boys. I think our second date will have to be a movie marathon.

already planning our second date?

ambitious

I like it

My conversation is fairly limited if I can’t drop a pop culture reference or two during the day.

I can see your points and i’m willing to sit myself down and watch the classics

okay gotta sneak past bridezilla… wish me luck

Good luck

Thursday 4:35 PM

Pork shoulder, corn, and potatoes all on the grill.

i’m jealous

I can’t cook to save my life

thank god we’re going out tonight

To celebrate finally breaking free for the summer?

exactly!! steph and izzie decided we needed to go to a club after dinner

i’ve never been to one before

Overpriced drinks and random guys grinding up on you all night. Not the best experience.

oh so random guys grind on you when you go out?

Shut up.

hahahaha

I’ve never even been to a club before. Not my scene. I just live with women so I know these things.

well i’ll update you on the happenings

let you know if I have to pay $20 for a drink

who’s grinding on my ass

you know normal everyday things

Woah woah woah.

what??

are you jealous??

I’m just saying if you’re gonna be shaking your ass, you might as well get random guys to buy you overpriced drinks.

you’re making some very good points

Of course I am. By the way, George wants me to tell you that you have a very shakeable ass so you should be taking in free drinks.

great I have to go die again

brb gonna drOWN MYSELF IN THE SHOWER

Thursday 10:38 PM

good news

i’ve secured three free drinks and a round of shots for all six of us

this ass is making money baby

I’ve created a monster. Who else is there?

steph, izzie, april, maggie, and levi

You brought the whole staff out didn’t you?

yes and I’m quite skilled at getting them drunk

You’re three drinks in and still texting correctly?

I think I danced it all off

need more fireball

And that’s another thing. Who willingly shoots Fireball?

me bitch

Ohh I love it when you call me names.

mmm i’m sure you do

okay i’m gonna go get more drinks

wish me luck

Good luck, I’m sure your ass will take in more than enough.

Thursday 11:57 PM

Incoming Voice Call

“Helloo?”

“Hi, it’s me.”

“I can afford caller ID, I knew it was you.”

“Were you sleeping?”

“No, I was about to head upstairs but I’m not tired.”

“Oh good. I just got home.”

“You sound tired. Did you have fun?”

“It was nice, Steph went home with some guy she met and Izzie went to her boyfriends so I’m home alone.”

“So you decided to call me?”

“I missed your voice, I told you that you have a nice voice.”

“You said that I have a sexy voice.”

“Oh shut up. I wanted to call before I went to sleep.”

“You’ve grown fond of me haven't you?”

“If you’re gonna say it like a weirdo then yes… I have grown fond of you, Snow White.”

“I guess I can say the same about you Bar Princess. Are you yawning over there?”

“Just a little bit, but I like talking to you.”

“It’s midnight, I wouldn’t blame you for falling asleep.”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep, I wanna keep talking to you.”

“How about I tell you the story of the time I was bridesman and I had to go to a bachelorette party?”

“Okay I’m listening…”

Friday 10:15 AM

I feel like a teenager

who the hell falls asleep on the phone

i’m in a bad rom com aren't I

Your snoring is really cute.

oh christ

well at least I didn’t take body shots off a male stripper

I was really hoping you’d be asleep before I got to that part.

oh nooo I remember that very clearly

i’ll be filing that away for blackmail

Rude. I guess I’ll save your snoring in that file too.

touché, I like the way you play the game

I’m an experienced player. Gotta go scrub in on a fundoplication.

have fun!!!

Friday 2:41 PM

I got bored and googled a fundoplication

that’s some crazy stuff, you’re kind of a badass

Easy peasy, all in a day's work.

nooo that’s amazing stuff!!

i’m in my classroom scraping gum and glitter off of the desks

Well you’re the reason people become doctors so I'd say you’re pretty important too.

awww you’re still trying to impress me

it’s a good look on you

I’m trying to be a gentleman. Maybe I’ll bring up your puke shoes just to be an asshole.

you know what even the mention of that can’t bring down my good mood

do you think I could get in trouble for drinking wine in my classroom?

Well there’s no kids around so… no. But I like the rebellious attitude you have towards the situation.

if i’m gonna sit in a classroom with no AC and scrape boogers off desks all day then I deserve some damn wine

You’re right and you should say it.

I DESERVE MY WINE I EARNED IT

oh shit maggie is outside i’m so fired

Hey you got her free shots last night, she should be thankful.

you know what you’re right

oh shit it’s bridezilla

Run.

whew

forgot we have our final dress fitting tomorrow

i’m not dead yet

Oh good. I kinda don’t want the first time I see you to be your funeral.

hahaha very funny

gotta go, we have to do this stupid year end meeting

I hate it here

Have fun, and remember don’t stab yourself with a pen!

Saturday 8:13 AM

WHAT A BEAUTIFUL MORNING

I wanna die

bridezilla is making us jog

and she took away my donuts

Saturday 9:53 AM

Jesus Christ. You need new friends.

honestly she’s not that bad when she’s not stressing over this wedding

she’s crying because she has a pimple

Oof that’s a tough run. Unfortunately, I have to spend the day out on a boat.

boohoo I don’t not feel bad for you

unless like… you have some childhood trauma from a boat

Nope. I get to relax and drink beer all day long.

yeah well then screw you

I have to try my stupid dress on and go to a stupid lunch and I CAN’T EVEN HAVE DONUTS

Aren’t you at home?

yes, steph invited everyone here since we have the space

why?

Check your porch.

YOU BROUGHT ME DONUTS?!

you’re my favorite

thank you thank you thank you

You’re welcome, I’m happy to be of service.

ohhhh I might just kiss you when we finally meet

I wouldn’t say no to that.

okay I gotta go hide in the closet and eat my donuts

thank you for thinking of me!!

It’s all I ever do.

Saturday 2:16 PM

How goes the dress trying on?

it was good!! mine fits and we have a beautiful bride on our hands

Good. I’m glad your day is getting better. I think I’m getting a sunburn.

you better not

that shit is dangerous

go find sunscreen

Now you’re concerned about me huh?

always

did you put the sunscreen on

Yes because I knew you’d spontaneously implode if I didn’t.

good

I didn’t want to you to burst into flames sitting in the sun

As a doctor, I can tell you that most likely would not be what happened.

now we have to sit through a boring ass lunch

it’s what the mother of the groom insists on

Is she paying for it though? …. yes

Well then stop complaining.

okay okay fine

hey quick question

which fork do i stab myself with

Go order a steak and drink an expensive glass of wine.

Saturday 10:39 PM

Incoming Voice Call

“Well well well, how the tables have turned.” “Bar Priiiiiincessss.” “Oh my god. This is so going in the blackmail file.”

“No don’t do that. If Jo finds out I was singing to another girl she’ll be mad.” “And why don’t you want Jo to be mad at you?” “Because I want to kiss her. And hug her. And see her face.”

“Well do I have a surprise for you.” “Oh I love surprises!”

“Jo and Bar Princess are the same person. I’m Jo.” “Holy crap! NO way!”

“Yes way, isn’t that crazy?”

“Can you tell Jo that she’s the nicest person I’ve ever met.” “I will relay the message. Jo is going to bed now though. Goodnight Alex.” “Good night Bar Princess, I miss you!”

#jolex #jolex fanfic #jolex fan fiction #jo karev #jo wilson #jo wilson karev #alex karev #alternate universe #jolex fic #jo x alex #greys anatomy #greys fanfic #INFJTT

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acharlatan · 5 years ago

Photo

TASK // 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔩𝔶𝔰𝔦𝔰

Full name: Jackson Sawyer Raemers Pronunciation: Jac-sun, S aw-y uh r, Ray-m uh rs Nickname(s): Jackson often prefers nicknames to his full name, anything in the name of making a situation more informal. Jack, Jacky, Jackson of a bitch, he’s open to creativity. Birthdate: 11th of November 1990 Age: 29 Zodiac: Saggitarius,

Strengths: Generous, idealistic, great sense of humour Weaknesses: Promises more than can deliver, very impatient, will say anything no matter how undiplomatic Sagittarius likes: Freedom, travel, philosophy, being outdoors Sagittarius dislikes: Clingy people, being constrained, off-the-wall theories, details

Gender: Male Pronouns: He/Him Romantic orientation: Heterosexual Sexual orientation: Heterosexual Nationality: American Ethnicity: Caucasian Current location: Miami Living conditions: Motel rooms, Jackson currently resides in a motel room shared with Derek, a cat and a large dog. He’s never been too attached to a place and moves around quite often from one place to another. The goal in Miami is to find an apartment with a garden for Bella (The doberman)

Background

Birthplace: Phoenix, AZ Hometown: Phoenix, AZ Social Class: Lower., Jackson has never had money and so the vacancy of it in his bank account is nothing he’d ever raised a brow towards. Being thrifty to make ends meet is in his DNA. Educational achievements: Graduated high school Father: Jackson Raemers ✝ Mother: Marilyn Johnson Sibling(s): None Birth order: There can only be one Pets: 6 month old doberman named Bella Previous relationships: He dated Neve Kaplan for 2 years, and everyone is more than aware that it was Neve who cut it off and Jackson had to run and buy a dog to distract himself from the heartbreak. Arrests: 2 Prison time: 3 years in a confined medical programme created for felonious mutants with powers that could be useful for creating new pharmaceuticals.

Occupation & Income

Current occupation: Gambling and stealing Dream occupation: Stunt double Past job(s): Taco Bell employee as a teenager, a mechanic in a garage before stealing the best car in that place and heading west. Spending habits: Money smart, only spends on what he needs and doesn’t let is dictate him. He probably spends more money on his dog than himself. In debt?: No, but that doesn’t mean he’s exactly stable either. His account dips from being secure to overdrafted from week to week. Most valuable possession: A wristwatch bought for him by Neve that’s worth more than he could afford.

Skills & Abilities

Physical strength: Above Average Speed: Average Intelligence: Average Accuracy: Average Agility: Below Average Stamina: Above Average Teamwork: Works very well in a team, he likes having orders and things to do. He’s a better follower than a leader. Talents: Survival knowledge, fixing things, stealing, identity theft, being a simp Shortcomings: Clumsiness, impatient, occasionally very immoral. Languages spoken: English, gibberish Drive?: Yes Jump-start a car?: Yes Change a flat tyre?: Yes Ride a bicycle?: Yes Swim?: Yes Play an instrument?: No Play chess?: No Braid hair?: No Tie a tie?: Yes Pick a lock?: Yes Cook?: Yes

Physical Appearance & Characteristics

Faceclaim: Casey Deidrick Eye colour: Brown Hair colour: Dark brown Hair type/style/length: Always kept short and maintainable. He’ll buzz it out of boredom every now and again, it’s really his beard that he puts all of his attention into. Glasses/contacts?: No Dominant hand: Right Height: 6ft 5 Weight: 194lbs Build: Muscular and lean. He’s mostly legs if i’m honest. Exercise habits: Daily runs and weight training every other day Skin tone: Fair Tattoos:

Torso; upper- Roman numerals of fast and furious’s first release date on his collarbone, moth on sternum, doberman on the left side of his abs, questionable DIY sun with sunglasses the size of a quarter on his ribs

Arms; full-body skeleton on his bicep, lucky dice, snake, joker card and distorted smiley face smoking a cigarette all dotted around the lower arm, all on his left arm.

Legs; dancing frog in a grass skirt that’s drinking beer on the top of his thigh, burning match stick near his ankle, Bon Jovi quote spelt incorrectly above his knee, a glass half full the back of his thigh, grim reaper on a skateboard his shin, all on the right leg

Back; Arrow through compass central, magic 8 ball lower left hand side, large peony left hand shoulder blade

Misc; Neve’s name on the inside of his lip, ‘angel’ and ‘devil’ script on his shoulders

Piercings: None Marks/scars: Small scar going down from the front of his hairline just touching onto his forehead, skateboard accident when he was younger. Clothing style: Tacky, short-sleeve button-up shirts worn open over plain tshirts, comfy denim jackets, graphic tshirts, jeans, all black converse or boots. He’ll wear anything he’s given for free or got a good deal on at goodwill. Jewellery: None Allergies: Shellfish Diet: Clean eating most of the time, cheat days go hard. Jackson’s weakness is anything the has been deep fried and served with BBQ sauce. Physical ailments: None

Psychology

MBTI type: ENTP Enneagram type: Type 6, the loyalist Moral Alignment: Chaotic neutral Temperament: Sanguine Element: Fire Emotional stability: Stable Introvert or Extrovert? Somewhere in the middle Obsession(s): None Compulsion(s): None Phobia(s): Bugs, small places Addiction(s): Nicotine, adrenaline Drug use: None Alcohol use: A lot, he’ll drink when he’s upset, he’ll drink when he’s happy. It’s something that he knows would always be there for him but does his best to not abuse it. Prone to violence?: Only if provoked Prone to crying?: No, not if anyone is looking anyway Believe in love at first sight?: Yes

Mannerisms

Accent: Southwestern Speech quirks: Rambling, going off topic Hobbies: Driving, skateboarding, cooking Habits: Impulsive decisions, smoking Nervous ticks: Stutter, scratching the back of his neck Drives/motivations: Fun, liberation Fears: Fear of being unworthy Sense of humour?: Dad humour Do they curse often?: Yes

Favorites

Animal: Any dog Beverage: Cherry cola Book: Into the Wild Colour: Red Food: Onion rings Flower: Peonies Gem: Topaz Mode of transportation: Chevrolet Scent: Oranges Sport: American football Weather: Sunny Vacation destination: California, Lake Tahoe

Attitudes

Greatest dream: Total freedom and owning a red mustang. His dreams change weekly, next time you ask he’ll be wishing for a tesla. Greatest fear: Isolation from others, being left alone or losing everyone Most at ease when: Driving late at night blasting Fleetwood Mac with all the windows rolled down Least as ease when: Speaking to someone with authority or having to do something precisely Worst possible thing that could happen: People favouring his power over his own identity Biggest achievement: Making 20k in one night at a casino and donating most of it to Mutant orphanages and rehabilitation clinics. Biggest regret: Bon Jovi tattoo on his leg spelt ‘Jon Bovi’

#mrtask #( about )#( musings )

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michael-langdon-appreciation · 6 years ago

Note

When are we getting part six of the runaway saga I’m honestly dyingggggg

You wanted Part 6 my love? Here it is and the bombs are dropping. No Jim in this one because…the Reign of Michael is beginning. 😈

Michael stares Duncan down, using the distance between them to dramatic effect. Duncan waits calmly, clasping his hands in front of him. The lights flicker and Michael has to remember to breathe, to not cause a scene in the middle of the hospital.

Duncan watches the lights returns to normal, ‘How dramatic.’

‘Fuck you.’ Michael hisses, ‘Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.’

‘Yeah.’ Duncan’s lip curls, ‘Well fuck you too. I knew you weren’t going to like it, but I was done being smothered by you Michael.’

That throws him, ‘Smothered?’ Michael repeats, and the dagger is twisted even further in his gut. ’When did I ever-’

‘You always have.’ Duncan’s pacing back and forth, ‘Ever since you saved me you’ve been obsessed with controlling me, Michael. I have no life, no freedom outside of you. Your Cooperative, your foursome, your clutches.’

Michael’s teeth sinks down into his lip to stop himself from screaming, ‘You know I can tell when you’re lying to me.’ He bites the words out evenly, ‘You love them. All of them.’

‘Yeah I do, despite how I shouldn’t.’ Duncan checks his watch, ‘But you’re fucking toxic Michael. I knew nothing else but you in the beginning. I didn’t know love was anything more than power plays, tactical moves and dominating your opponent and you encouraged that. You hooked yourself into every fibre of me and polluted my mind that I should be so grateful to have you because who else was there for me? Jim showed me that love isn’t about that. It can be doing nothing, it can be gentle, kind without needing to fucking own someone. I don’t have an identity that isn’t you and I had to try and regain some of myself back. Do you know how hard that was? People thought I was dead cause I went silent after coming outta prison. I had to grovel to get back in with my Uncle after everything, had to sweet talk Annette for days-’

‘YOU HAD NO ONE.’ Michael thunders, ’NO ONE GAVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU.’ The lights waver again, but Michael couldn’t care less anymore. ‘I made you into the man you are today. You’d be nothing without me, an ex-con working some shit job.’

‘Look, Michael. I never wanted to hurt you.’ Duncan’s about-facing, ‘In the beginning I thought I could spend some time with Jim at the new apartment, then introduce you and Y/N when we were comfortable. When I was feeling like me again.’

The words burn at Michael’s ears, ’So Jim has, what? Made you remember who you are? He’s fixed what I couldn’t? Restored you?’

‘No.’ Duncan searches for a literal way out. His eyes rove from one end of the corridor to the other, ‘I felt…free with him.’

His magic rears before Michael can control it. His eyes have rolled into the back of his head and the world is a blur. There’s a thud and Duncan’s slammed against the door to Jim’s room. His feet dangle off the floor, Michael’s magic levitating him higher and higher, ‘Michael!’ Duncan thunders, but the fear is evident in his voice.

Michael lets him drop at once. The hand he has stretched out before him is shaking and suddenly he can’t speak. He hasn’t lost control like that. Not since…the Butchery.

Duncan staggers wildly, his limbs flailing, ‘What the fuck?’ He roars, ‘Magic? Michael?’

‘You deserve it,’ Michael keeps his voice even.

But Duncan’s striding over to Michael, shoving his chest up against his. ‘We’re in a hospital, you could hurt someone.’

‘You’ve hurt me!’

There’s a horrible silence, one that has Michael slamming his fist against the nearby vending machine. It feels even worse than slipping up with his magic, because Michael never admits his emotions easily. He’s the collected one, the voice of reason. He’s the one the others turn to when all is lost and a long time ago, that used to include Duncan Shepherd.

‘Michael. I didn’t-‘

Jim’s door opens. Y/N ventures outside, ‘What the hell is going on?’ She hisses, ‘You two can wage war anywhere but here.’

Duncan throws Michael a hostile look, ‘Apologies. Didn’t mean to get flung against a door today.’

‘Yeah, well.’ Y/N runs a hand through her hair, ‘We deserve it.’

He caught sight of it the moment he laid eyes on her again. The mark, the evidence of Y/N’s time with Duncan marred on her skin. His claim on her soul. Michael’s feet carry him forwards and Y/N remains stock still. She maintains his eye contact, something Michael is secretly commending her for. His fingers push her hair aside, revealing the mark, Michael running his fingertips over it. ‘You slept with him?’

She takes in a breath, but remains firm. ‘Yes.’

At least she didn’t deny it, ‘Why?’

‘It just…happened.’ Y/N catches Michael’s wandering fingers in her own, ‘And I’m so sorry, Michael.’

Her eyes slide to Duncan who’s just watching from the sidelines, ‘It was a spur of the moment thing.’ He offers, but Michael knows better.

‘Peonies?’ He keeps his voice light, ‘Y/N’s favourite?’

He’s so satisfied when Duncan is momentarily silenced. Michael cups either side of Y/N’s face and pulls her into him. She can’t stop him, he moves too fast and crushes their lips together, holding Y/N in place. Her hands rise to extract him, but Michael’s moved away from her before Y/N even has time to react properly. She steps forward, her eyes dazed and wanton from his display of dominance. Michael runs his finger down her lips and then slinks towards Duncan. Michael seizes him and pushes his lips onto Duncan’s, claiming the man right in front of Y/N. Michael can hear her intake of breath, enough to impassion him further as Duncan succumbs to Michael. With Duncan however, Michael leaves his lips nearby, ‘You won’t touch her again.’ He orders, Michael’s voice a murmur. ‘Neither of you will.’

Duncan backs away from him, his eyes wide, ‘You can’t stop us.’

Michael’s already turning away from him, back to Y/N. ‘See to Jim, Duncan. That is who you are here for after all. Tend to your Beach Boy.’ His hand latches onto Y/N’s wrist, but she doesn’t fight him. Both Y/N and Duncan can taste the danger in the air, Michael’s coolness far more sinister than his magic. Michael’s hand finds the back of Y/N’s hair as he presses one gentle kiss to her forehead, ‘Don’t think I won’t fight for you.’

‘You can’t just take her.’

Michael makes sure to send Duncan his sweetest smile, ‘Do you really want to find out what I’ll do if you stop me?’

Michael’s darkness overflows the moment you cross the threshold of your house. He slams the door shut himself, preferring to use his magic to charm you right towards him. He holds his arms open, ‘What’s wrong, darling? You just have to come to me?’

‘Michael?’ You caution, as your arms wind around his neck.

His fingers latch into your hair and yanks your head back. His nose nudges over the hickey, ‘Fucking slut.’ You whimper, trying to break free of his spell but Michael has you right where he wants you, ‘Letting him mark what’s mine.’

‘I didn’t.’ You manage to get it out, but Michael cuts you off.

‘Didn’t mean to let him cum inside you?’ Michael’s voice is laced with sarcasm as he licks a stripe over the hickey, ‘His dick slipped inside huh?’

You know he could end you for it, but you can’t stand the lies anymore. ‘I didn’t let Duncan mark me.’

Michael freezes, his lips still hovering over your neck. You wait for him to put the pieces together, ‘Jim.’

It isn’t good. Not when Michael’s voice dips into a low growl like that, ‘He caught me off guard.’

‘Fucked off guard, bitten off guard.’ Michael’s voice is lethally light, but his face comes back into view. ‘You stupid girl.’

You bite back your emotions. Michael’s humiliation is working and you know you deserve every barb he’s slinging your way, ‘I’m so sorry, Mi-‘

‘Get on the bed.’

That you didn’t expect, ‘Wha?’

Your feet move of their own accord, traipsing towards the bedroom. You try to turn to look at the Antichrist, but you’re stripping your clothes off along the way, leaving a trail for Michael to follow. Your cheeks burn as you plant your face down into the bed. Michael’s got you in your underwear and your ass sticks up for his pleasure. You can’t see him, but you know he’s in the bedroom with you, ‘What are you…doing?’ You ask, ‘Magic is-’

‘Forbidden? Banned?’

You know any confirmation will end with pain so you clamp your mouth shut. The wait is torturous and you can feel yourself clenching up at what Michael could have planned. He could cane you, hurt you, fuck you without any prep. Then, a warm hand slides over your right bum cheek, just stroking over your flesh, ‘I thought you would understand how badly I wanted to make us work.’ His palm makes contact with your flesh, a sharp sting vibrating all the way up your body. ‘I thought you of all people knew the depths of my love.’

‘I do.’

Another slap, this time hard enough to make you whimper. Michael soothes it though with his warm touch, ‘Clearly you do not understand that my intention with you, Y/N is the endgame. If Jim and Duncan want to ruin us, break us and then fuck off they are welcome to. My issue lies in when they try to take you from me.’

‘You love Duncan most.’ You say, unable to help yourself. ‘I saw how you snatched your phone up every time it flashed. Desperate for a text off him.’ Your cheek earns you another spank and you let your cry escape freely. ‘Michael!’

His hand is there again rubbing over the red handprint your sure is blooming, ‘I loved you all.’ Then there’s fingers inching down your underwear, sliding in-between your folds to make sure you’re already wet.

You are. You always are when it comes to Michael, your dominant, your first love.

Shame ripples inside from how easily he’d turned you on, how he’s right. You’re a slut for all three of them, but Michael knows exactly how to twist you round his fingers, pulling your strings taught till you are dancing for him. ‘What are you going to do?’

Michael turns you over himself, letting the magical hold release itself. He yanks your legs apart, sliding up between them. His hands slide up your stomach, slow and sensual, Michael’s eyes never leaving yours.

He pauses, his eyes falling to your stomach. You watch him, but Michael’s attention isn’t remotely on you. He’s fixated on your stomach and just when you’re about to call him out for his new kink, he leans down, pressing his ear to your belly.

You….can’t be.

Michael’s head rolls to catch your eyes, ‘You are.’ He confirms, ‘I can feel it. Hear it.’

Tears prick at your eyes, because you’re on the pill. ‘I was so careful with that,’ You whisper, staring down at your stomach. Michael’s ringed fingers have moved to hold your stomach as his fingers fan out. You watch him listen, feel almost communicate with the little baby. ‘Who’s?’

‘Jims. You’re too far along to be Duncan’s and if it was me, we’d definitely know already.’

You don’t quite know what Michael means by that, ‘How…far along am I?’

‘Roughly two months.’

The world crashes down around your shoulders, ‘You knew, before now. Didn’t you?’ Michael’s second hesitation is all you need. You toss a pillow at him, ‘Fuck you!’

‘I knew you didn’t want a child.’ Michael says quickly, ‘I was…fucking jealous. Furious, Y/N.’

You climb off the bed, heading for the door. ‘So what? You just take away all my symptoms? My morning sickness?’ You inspect your stomach, ‘I’m hardly showing, what is it some kind of sick magic? A ritual to your dad to keep hiding it?’

Michael flies after you, catching you by the shoulders. ‘Yes, I alleviated your symptoms Y/N. But that’s all. I didn’t want you to have to handle it till you were supported. Till this was straightened out.’

You twist your shoulders out of his grasp, ‘No Michael, you couldn’t stand the idea that it was Jim’s and not yours.’ Michael falls motionless and you take your chance to head back into the living room, picking up your discarded clothes as you go.

‘Where are you going?’ Michael demands, ‘You’re in no fit state to go anywhere.’

‘DO NOT.’ You jab a finger into his chest when Michael blocks your way. ‘You are done deciding things for me. I’m done with all of you.’

You try to move, but once again your feet are stuck, ‘MICHAEL LANGDON.’

Michael moves towards you again, ’I don’t care.’ He says, ‘I will be the one that is here for you. Always. You think Duncan’s gonna stick around now there’s a child on the way? You think Jim’s ready to be a father?’

The tears are welling because Michael’s right. None of you should be raising a child, but if you’d had to pick a father you had always wanted it to be Michael. He was the natural fit, the leader of you all. You put your head in your hands, ‘I’m not ready to be a Mom, Michael. Everything is such a mess.’ You peer at him through your fingers, ‘God, I’m such a-’

Michael just pulls you into his arms, ‘Y/N, you didn’t know.’

You let him hold you. What else can you do. Betrayal is still lancing like knives inside you, but you have to believe Michael’s intentions were right, however misguided. Neither of you know how long you remain standing together, you wrapped securely in Michael’s arms. You take a deep breath and a wave of calm rolls over you, ‘I’m…pregnant.’

You can feel Michael’s nod, ‘You will be an incredible Mommy, Y/N.’

It sounds so wrong.

‘We have to tell them.’ You say, ‘Jim and Duncan. They have a right to know.’

‘They do.’ Michael’s hands slide down to take your hands, ‘And what they choose to do after that is on them. Not me, I’ve kept you protected from now and I don’t intend to stop that. I love you, Y/N. I’ll be it’s father, if I have to.’

‘Michael, that isn’t your responsibility.’

‘I will gladly undertake it.’ His lips press against your forehead, ‘But I want exclusivity, Y/N. No more fucking around. There’s just me.’

‘If Jim wants to be in his child’s life we have to let him.’ The words feel so foreign, like you’re stuck in a movie. ‘I won’t do that to him and he’s still in hospital.’

A glint flashes in Michael’s eyes, ‘You won’t let him go, will you?’

You frown, ‘What?’ But Michael isn’t looking at you anymore.

‘Either of them.’

‘Michael, I thought you loved all of us.’

He’s pushing you back towards the sofa, guiding you with a firm hand, ‘I still do.’ He declares, ‘But I won’t take any risks now. It’s time I had a taste of what I want. I’ve been good, I’ve been patient. It’s my turn now.’

You drop onto the sofa and Michael’s prowling right above you. His hair tickles your face, his eyes nearly black. Michael’s vow hangs in the air as his fingers dip back into the waistband of your panties, ’What are you going to do?’

He presses a lazy kiss to your inner thigh, but his eyes are obsidian. Michael’s tongue pokes out as his eyes drag all over you, ’If that baby can’t be solely mine, Y/N. Then I’ll just have to fuck a new one in it’s place.’

TAGGING: @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul @langdonsinferno @pastel-cloudz @misslanabananaa @lovelykhaleesiii napping-is-my-favorite @tickled–pinkmoodpoisoning @lvngdvns @ccodyfernn @asstichrist @yourkingcodyfern @langdonsdemon @satcnas @russianspacegeckosexparty @rosy-pugs @luxuryglitterhoe @langdonsoceaneyes @sodanova @petersfern-fics @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sassylangdon @confettucini @sammythankyou @wroteclassicaly @Sloppy-Wrist @Langdonalien @alexcornerblog @sevenwondr @queencocoakimmie @sojournmichael @langdonsdemon @satcnas kinlovecody @kylosbabe @americanhorrorstudies @xxpixiefromdixiexx @elenareginaauditore @dadddysprincessss @gremlinkween @readsalot73 @astir-bread @i-will-die-for-jim-mason @ms-mead @mega-combusken @hanhanxx @kahhlo @thelangdoncooperative @sojournmichael @langdonsrapture @ritualmichael @cryptid-coalition @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26@infernal-langdon @jim-mason2 @duncandimension @dark-jim @jimmlangdon @xtheinevitableprophecyx @moontheweirdpan @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown @bbyduncan @divinelangdon @theladynymph @xlangdons-evilbabygirlx

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laurasmith2002 · 5 years ago

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Final Piece.

The project i chose to develop was the colour and shape because it was the one i most enjoyed and felt i could go the furthest with, i wanted to keep the botanical elements but also add some others such as body positivity and something food related because a lot of people struggle with this at the moment because of the media and how they portray bodies and how we should be.

For the colour and shape project i made and A-Z set of modern botanicals so for this project i made an A-Z of chocolate bars so i could spell out anything in the same styles as the chocolates so i chose “be yourself” because i feel this captures how most people think they can’t be and i believe it would inspire people to do so, i played around with the idea of body image and wether or not to have a face in my images, i decided against this because people wear makeup like a mask or shield to hide their true self, which is where the idea of hiding the face with the flowers came from because, everybody thinks flowers have a natural beauty which the majority of people want or do not think they have; i came up with a few ideas by playing around with primary images and different medias i eventually settled on Sharpies, coloured pencils, fineliners and watercolours because they all seemed to work best together to get the effect i wanted.

I chose to use Peonies, Anemones and Daisies because they come in a variety of colours which i could make contrast or work together in this piece the blues and pinks are subtle colours but work well with the skin tones, my favourite part of the flowers is how i was able to create different tones within the flowers, i blended some with blues and purples and the others with green because they both worked well with the blue and makes it look more interesting to a viewer rather than everything being the same; i did the same with the peonies one is paired with pink and red and the other with pink and purple.

I wanted to have a strong difference between all the flowers which is why i chose three which had such different qualities the daisies are white and have lots of intricate details, the peonies are big and bold but have such nice curves to the leaves and the anemones have lots of variety of the two lots of petals and colours.

I chose to do the flowers with coloured pencil because i am able to create lots of depth and shading more detailed than with watercolours because the would have mixed and gone a muddy sort of colour.

If i was going to do this again however i would maybe use watercolours as a base and work on top with pencil because i would have a solid base rather than it being patchy.

The peony is my favourite part of my piece because i think it stands out with it having good shading and colours also i think this flower is a statement because of its sheer size and colours which would draw attention to this piece.

The reason i chose to use black as the writing colour is because it is so bold but works well against the figures and flowers, if i would have used colour i think it would have looked very overpowering and busy with it already having pinks and blues from the flowers.

The writing is made up of text from chocolate bars.

B- Bounty

E-Eclairs

Y- Yorkie

O- Oreo

U- UFO’S

R- Rolo’s

S- Snickers

L- Lion bar

F- Fudge

I did this because chocolate is demonised in diet culture and it shouldn’t be i think this links to body image because people assume if you are bigger than average that you eat unhealthy or that they you need to hide similary to how i hid my figures behind the flowers as sheilds.

Altogether i really enjoyed creating this piece and think it works well as a whole with all the colours and shapes i created through lots of media and line work; the layers work well i think because of the shading and tones; also the colours balance out because i chose not to use a strong colour next to a lighter one i wanted them to be similar hues so it would work.

The flowers symbolise natural beauty and envy because everyone wants it; the “ugly” hidden by beauty.

The figures symbolise insecurites and body image issues because everyone wants to be Perfect but believes they aren’t in a lot of cases; they could also portray the media is a bad light for showing unrealistic standards which nobody should conform to.

The quote is like a freedom from all the negatives and is showing that you being you is amazing and nobody should tell you otherwise and you shouldn’t think otherwise either.

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sparklinggnome · 6 years ago

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Winterfest part 2

While the kids were out playing Misty had gotten started with the grandma for that evening. There was a lot of things that needed to be done. And since this was her first time preparing it herself she also had the freedom to choose from thousands, if not millions of recipes online. But she was confident that she could execute the courses that she had decided on. She had gotten pretty good at cooking after all. She also prepared some cookies that they could eat later during the evening when opening presents. She was rushing back and forth in the house, putting up the last decorations and placing out the gifts that she had bought under the tree. She really wanted to create a perfect holidays for her children. Something they would cherish and always remember.

The clock was ticking and things were going pretty well for Misty. She was pretty much finished with the last preparations for the grandmeal when Peony and Guava came back inside. They had rose cheeks from being out in the cold and running around. Peony came up to her mother and hugged her.

“I love you, mom! And I love Winterfest!” “Aw, I love you too, Peony.” Misty answered and felt her heart warming, even if Peony’s hug was a little cold and wet from melting snow. “Did you have fun outside?” “Yes! We built a snowpal and then we played. The snowpal is a Queen and our house is her castle.” Guava started to tell Misty about what he and Peony had imagined. “And Guava was an evil wizard who wanted to take the castle to become King, and I was the Queens daughter, but I also knew magic so I tried to defend the castle.” Misty laughed lovingly and was quite amazed by how vivid their imagination was. She walked over to the window and had a look at the snowpal. “I’m glad you had so much fun, and the snowqueen looks really nice! But now I think you should get changed into your Winterfest outfits that we picked out last night.

They all changed into their ‘formal’ clothes. Misty was sporting a white skirt and an ‘Ugly’ Winterfest sweater. Both Guava and Peony was wearing knitted clothes. All three of they had a theme of blue, as that also was the colour they had decorated with. After changing Peony stayed in her and Guava’s room and played doctor for a little while.

Guava on the other hand went out into the kitchen to show off how he looked to his mother. When he did this he noticed something he hadn't before. There was presents laying under the tree.

“Wow, mom! Look at all the presents!” he shouted excitingly. It was hard not to throw himself over them to start opening them, but he resisted. “When do we get to open them?” “That’s going to have to wait for a little while, sweetie. After we’ve had dinner we can open the presents.” “Oh... But that so long to go...” “I promise you that it will go pretty quick. Heath is going to be here soon, and we can play some board games together, have some fun!” Misty assured her son. After a little while Peony tired of playing and went out into the kitchen again. She went over to her mother and looked at her outfit. “You look really nice mom. Your earrings makes me happy!” Misty bent down and wiggled the earrings with her fingers. It was small snowpals with blue hats. “Thank you sweetie. You’re looking really pretty too! Do you want to take a picture together?” Peony did want that, so Misty handed her phone to her daughter and let her take a picture of them.

Not long there after, there was a knock on the door. “Heath!” both Guava and Peony shouted happily and ran to open the door. They welcomed him with a hug. “Oh, hello you two! Happy Winterfest! Is it you that has built the snowpals outside? They’re looking awesome!” “I made one myself, and one we made together.” Guava explained, proudly. Misty came over and gave Heath a kiss. “Happy Winterfest, darling. Welcome here. I’m so glad you could celebrate with us. And so are these two, as you can see.” “Thank you for inviting me, I’ve really been looking forward to it.”

It was still pretty early in the day, around 14 o’clock. Misty threw together some sandwiches and then they all sat down to play some boardgames. Around 15 o’clock it was starting to get dark outside and Misty decided it was time to light the Winterfest tree. So they gathered around it. It was very nice, and Heath hade complimented it a few times as well. “Are you ready?” Misty asked her children. “Yes! I wanna see the sparkling lights!”

But there wasn't any sparkling lights... Instead there was a lot of sparking, something malfunctioned and the tree caught fire. “Oh, shit!” shouted Misty, not thinking of the word she was using. Heath quickly gathered the kids and took them outside. His quick action made Misty collect herself and she grabbed the fire extinguisher and started spraying.

She managed to put out the fire, but the tree couldn't be saved, and unfortunately a lot of the gifts went up in the flames too. Misty felt defeated. She had tried so hard to make everything perfect and then disaster broke out. She sat down, resting her face in her hands. Heath and the kids came in. Guava and Peony were really sad that their wonderful tree was gone, and also the presents. They both started sobbing a little bit, not jus because of the things that were lost, but also because the fire had scared them. And now they saw how hard their mother was taking it. Heath put his hands on Misty’s shoulders and massaged her. “It could’ve been a lot worse Misty. But you saved your family and you saved your house. No one is hurt, and that is the important thing.” he said lovingly and kissed the back of her head. “I know... I just.. I tried so hard to do all this, and now it’s just gone. It’s all ruined.” Heath shook his head as he had come up with a plan. “No, it’s not all ruined. I can fix this, a little. Just... Just wait here. Sit down and watch something funny, try to calm down.” He turned the the kids and crouched down to their level. “It’s okay Peony and Guava. Remember that you all have each other, and presents isn't everything. It’s a shame they’re gone, but it’s just things. And remember, Father Winter is going to come.”

And with those words, he opened the front door and left.

<-Previous III Next->

#ts4 #sims4 #berrypastelrainbowcy #ts4challenge #meringue legacy #misty meringue #guava meringue #peony meringue #heath bastille #winterfest #fire #gen 1

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casskaykingston · 6 years ago

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meet the parents:

TAGGING → @amytaylcr LOCATION → The Big House, Kingston Ranch B & B grounds TIMEFRAME → Tuesday, January 8th

The last time Cass had brought a girl home to Momma he'd been seventeen. Floofy haired and cocky, with bright blue eyes every junior girl and younger swooned at when they were flashed his way, but he had only had eyes for one - Kiera, the light in his life then, his only high school girlfriend that had meant something to him. Meant the world. But that was then and this was now, and there was no Kiera on his arm. No girl. No, there was a woman, a woman with dimples that Cass would do anything to see appear and eyes that now held his whole world.

As bumpy as the earlier road had been, they were together now, dating, actually doing the thing they'd been dancing around for so long. He'd helped her into the drivers seat of her car before getting into the passenger, leaning one big muscled grey clad arm on the window as he looked at her. Amelia Taylor, the woman he'd fought so hard for. He may have been throwing his all into their battles, but it was Amy who'd lain down the weapons and come to him, and he was grateful for it every day. Grateful that he'd been able to prove to her that yes - they'd be good together. And they really were. "It's a little odd that this isn't your first time meeting my parents." The bearded man's deep voice rumbles in the interior of her car as they enter the ranches grounds. "You've met them both before. And you know Greer."

Sticking the key into the engine, Amy turned the ignition on, the car rumbling to life outside of Cass’s place where she picked him up. A dinner with his parents shouldn’t have made her nervous as much as it did— after all, she knew his entire family for a long while now— but the knots that twisted her insides remained. This was the first time she was doing this, needing to impress someone who didn’t know her that well. Back in high school, with Brooks, it was different: the Sullivans, their first-door neighbors, knew her almost as well as her own parents did. When she and Brooks started dating it came as no surprise or awkwardness to either families. With Cass, though, the road had been bumpier, and the prize all the more rewarding for it, but she still wondered how much his family knew. About her, about the role she’d played in his accident back in September. Turning onto the main road, she glanced at Cass and nodded.

“It’s a bit weird, yeah. But at the same time, they know me as Amy Taylor, Aubrey’s sister. Now they’re getting to know Amy Taylor, Cass’s girlfriend. Not the same person, you know,” she pointed out with a smile. “Think they’ll approve?”

Amy Taylor, Cass's girlfriend. He couldn't help the fluid warmth of the smile that slid between golden scruff as she said that, his non leaning hand busy spinning his keys round his fingers. Yes, it had been a tough journey, but none of it mattered now. None of mattered when Cass got to call her his and hold her in his arms, and dream about a future with her that she hesitantly saw too. Plus, he was sort of really into the possession situation of her being "Cass'ss girlfriend" now, so he was pretty happy. "Momma already loves you." He chuckles, brushing a hand over his mustache before gazing out the window again. "She's a bit frowny that she hasn't been able to corner you completely one on one yet, but that gets to change tonight. You know Greer already, Bailey couldn't make it and to be honest? I don't give a flying fuck what my dad thinks. His opinion doesn't matter." Despite the vehemence in the blonde man's tone, the very fact that he still called the man 'dad' indicated the depth of his feelings towards him, even with everything that had gone down.

“Corner me? Am I going to get the third degree?” She wondered with a nervous chuckle. It didn’t quite fit what she knew about Olivia Kingston, but logic was the furthest thing from her mind right now. Cass went on to list the other family members who will or won’t be present at dinner and Amy chanced a look at him, chewing on her lip. “Okay, so other than your—“ she started to say father but thought better of the asshole that stood in for that role in Cass’s life, even if Cass himself couldn’t stop calling him ‘dad.’ “Other than CK, I’ve mostly been accepted into the family, and I shouldn’t worry? Even if Greer and I have been on unsteady grounds for a while now?” She questioned, following the road ahead.

"Oh no, not the third degree. It's just...been a long time since I brought a girl home and she's really really excited about that. If I actually knew the specifics of why she wants to corner you, I'd tell you, but I'm often not privileged enough to get her thought process. But I can tell you it's nothing to worry about." The lights of The Big House swell as they near it, and Cass fights down a sudden unsure feeling in his gut, nothing to do with the woman he was bringing home but more about the father they were nearing. He'd successfully been avoiding him for months now, dodging his phone calls and going to the big house to see anyone but his mom and his mom only. That in addition to them spending time in Florida for the holidays, this was the first time he'd be seeing CK in a long while, and he wasn't just bringing himself, he was bringing Amy, who he cared so much about. If he so much as breathed a disparaging thought in Amy's direction, Cass was out of there and taking Amy with him, dinner be damned. His father was only allowed one victim. "She's a stubborn one, my sister. Gets it into her head that one version of the story is the way it is, and upholds that version against all others." He sighs with a slight massage to his forehead, though a grin does crack its way onto her face. "It'll even out with her, I promise. But yes. Look, bottom line is, you have Momma on your side. She's just excited that I might not end up alone forever."

"See, telling me not to worry in the same sentence when you inform me your mother wants to corner me?" The question, rhetorical in nature, slipped past her lips along with a chuckle. "Not the vote of confidence I'm looking for, you know." Signaling to no one in particular, she turned away from the main road and started toward the grand mansion bathed in lights ahead. Despite the colder weather, the green shrubs persisted, and gave the place a warmer feeling than you'd expect at this time of the year. Slowing down as they came closer up along the driveway, Amy realized it's been a while since she's been at the house. The ranch? Sure. Cass's place? Her second home by now. But the big house? It's been a while since those walls had surrounded her, she mused, parking in one of the spaces on the side of the house and killing the engine. "You're telling me," she smiled and turned to look at him. The belt unfastened and freedom of movement reinstated, she shifted a little more and cupped his cheek. "You were never going to end up alone forever. I'm just glad I wasn't too late to get you myself." Leaning in, she dropped a tender kiss on his lips. "Now let's go get me cornered, shall we?"

He unbuckles his seatbelt at the same time as hers, turning to memorize her visage for a second in his head. Fall of brunette hair, check. Bright hazel eyes, check. That smile Cass so loved to see, framed with hinted dimples the man would probably kill to make appear. His heart melted, just the slightest bit, when she cups his face in her name, presses a kiss to his lips, saying all the things that'd make a mans chest puff with pride, and the oldest Kingston was no exception. "I'm happy it was you." He murmurs simply through full lips, tucking a piece of Amy's hair behind her ear. "And yes, lets go get this over with."

Offering her his arm when they'd both gotten out of the car and locked it, and they ascend the steps of the big porch as a unit. A knock from Cass's work roughened hand on the door and it swings open immediately, indicating that maybe the answeree had been spying from the window. Olivia Kingston, large smile wreathing her face and blue eyes so like Cass's own glowing with excitement, is the person who answers the door, wearing a white button down tucked into a flared jean skirt, beautiful despite her wrinkles and effortlessly exuding motherliness and a wildflower scented perfume. "Amelia Taylor! And my baby boy, come in, come in." She coos immediately in her Southern drawl, shooing them into the house with her hands and closing the door behind them. The second that's down, Olivia throws welcoming arms around Amy and hugs her tight, a sigh of utter happiness leaving Olivia's mouth. "I just wanna thank you so, so much for datin' my son. Now let me take a look at you." She stands back, draws worn blue eyes down Amy's body in an assessing, but still soft manner, and beams once again. "You've grown into such a beautiful woman, dear! I remember when you'd come by the house with your lil sister. But oh, we won't talk about that," Olivia flaps her hands in dismissal. "Tonight's about you two. Dinner is ready whenever y'all want it, C.K. is already at the table."

With one arm linked with Cass's and the other holding a bouquet of vibrant, coral peonies, Amy walked up the front steps with her boyfriend who wasted no time in knocking on the door. Barely affording her a moment to straighten her rust colored skirt, the front door swung open to reveal Olivia Kingston, youthful and warm just as Amy had always remembered her, regardless of the years that have passed. "Mrs. Kingston," Amy greeted, having decided that to call her Olivia was something she'd earn and not just assume, a warm smile curving her lips. No sooner than they found themselves inside did Amy have a pair of strong and soft arms wrap around her frame and envelop her in an embrace. A chuckle parted her lips as she stole a glance at Cass and her own arms wrapped around the woman. "Nothing to thank me for, it's a pleasure, really," she assured, a blush creeping up her neck and her cheeks as Olivia scanned her approvingly. Head bowed to hide the slight rush of embarrassment, Amy regained her senses soon enough. "Oh, I've brought these for you," she recalled the bouquet in her arms and passed it over to Olivia, looking for Cass's hand to hold. "I don't want to make anyone wait so we can start dinner right away, if you'd like."

He couldn't have helped the smile that spread across his face when he saw his mom hug Amy any more than Cass could've helped his feelings for Amy. Seeing her with someone who he loved so much, made what they were doing, in some ways, even more real. And he liked the way it felt. Olivia distracted by the prettiness of the bouquet, he laced his fingers with his girlfriends, tugged her to him to press a kiss to his forehead. His heart was full, having her here, even with C.K's ominous presence and the fragile civility between Greer and Amy. No matter the amount of bad memories he had here, it was still home, and he'd had some pretty great ones here too. There was the couch his mom had taught him how to read before going to school. There was the staircase he, Bailey, and Greer had raced up so many times. There was the kitchen he'd started every morning in for countless years.

"-these are just the most lovely things." Olivia finishes with a happy breath, and takes the lead, walking briskly into the kitchen and cutting through the living room. "Follow me, dears.!" Twenty or so steps, ones that take that happiness Cass had just held and replaced it with uncomfortable lead, and they reach the dining room. Homey, with curtains on the windows and a sideboard, gorgeous mahogany and chairs that were both tasteful and very comfortable with classic wood accents. At the head, C.K. - a sight that makes Cass remember this is probably the first time Amy's seen him in years and with the behind the scenes knowledge of him she now had. Disappointed stare and hard blue eyes boring down into the two of them, Cass turns his own to his girlfriend.

The bouquet received approval from Olivia, thank god. Russell and Janey raised her right and made sure she'd never go to a friend's house empty-handed. Especially not when that friend was a boy in every sense of that word. Uncertainty bowed before a radiant smile as Cass pulled her into his side to lay a kiss on her forehead, drawing the corners of her lips further apart. Whatever happened tonight, however things unraveled─ and there were quite a few bumps in the road between Greer and CK and everything Amy knew about his treatment of his son─ she'd have Cass there to be her rock, her support. They could tackle anything, right? They've fought off ghosts of Amy's past, how hard could this be? They followed Olivia into the dining room, Amy stealing glances along the way. The house was a little different than what she remembered it, but then time would bring about some changes, always. She tried not to dwell on them too much, especially when they reached the dining table at the head of which sat CK in a wheelchair, looking at his son and his girlfriend as if they were rats a stray cat dragged in. Discomfort tingled in the soles of her feet, and Amy gave Cass's hand a squeeze to make sure he remembered he wasn't there alone and that they could leave at any point, repercussions be damned. "Good evening, sir," she started, as politely as she could when she frothed with anger at the man for all the ways in which he cut her man down. "Thank you for having me over," she said, glancing between the three Kingstons present as Olivia busied herself with adjusting the bouquet in a vase.

C.K. and Cass's girlfriends over the years had had an odd relationship. In his teens, with the few girls he dated for months at a time before finding Kiera, they'd visited his house. Had dinner there. Met his family. C.K. had usually not given them much but icy politeness, retreating to his office once dinner was over. He reserved his snide and hurtful comment for after Cass handed whichever girl it was into the car. With Kiera, he'd been more outspoken. She'd come from a good family, one CK respected, and often wondered aloud why she was with "a drivenless slacker of a son". She grew to hate him for Cass's sake, but was never anything but sugar sweet to his sour face. None of his girlfriend's in New York met his family of course, and he hadn't dated anyone seriously in Wilmington since his return. That is, not since Amy.

This time, it was different. She wasn't the older sister of one of Greer's best friends, coming to pick her up. This was Cass's girlfriend, the person he was seriously interested in, meeting his family. Meeting C.K., dirty blonde hair with streaked of grey pushed back from his face, blue eyes that told you he had looked and found you lacking. "So this is the woman my son's tricked into being with him. Tell us if you're being held against your will, Liv and I will save you." Finally come C.K.'s words, joking with a razor sharp undercurrent. Cass's hand tightens for a moment around Amy's, his smile frozen a bit in place.

"Dad. She's here of her own volition, I swear."

"Whatever you say, son." The last word crackles with distaste as it leaves his father's mouth, and C.K. moves on, holds up a hand to shake hers, gaze unrelenting. "Forgive me. I was raised to be a gentleman, but extenuating circumstances have stopped me from standing."

Standing there, looking at CK, it’s hard not to notice the similarities between father and son. The dirty blonde hair they both have for one thing, although Cass’s looks softer and fuller, whereas CK’s seems dry and peppered with grays. The hard set of jaws, the high cheekbones, they’re all something the two men have in common, clearly placing them in the same lineage. While the color of their eyes seems to be a running theme in the entire family, Amy easily realized Cass earned his vibrant, soft blues from his mother, the warmth and the emotion that shine in them had nothing to do with the hardness of his father’s eyes. And that was where the similarities ended, for though the framework seemed to fit, what was inside differed greatly. A heart of gold, forgiving and endless as the sky, was what beat inside her man’s chest, but when she looked at CK all she could see was a cold stone where the muscle was supposed to be. His joke, a deprecating jab at his eldest, didn’t humor Amy whatsoever despite the twinge of lips she gave him, a twinge that would have turned into a scowl had she not stopped it.“

No tricking was necessary, I assure you,” she added after Cass, returning the squeeze of his hand, knowing just how much each lash of the verbal whip hurt him. “If anything, your son is the one who had been tricked.” She added as she stepped forward to shake CK’s hand. The strokes that leave most people with impaired strength in their hands seemed to avoid CK, his hold as solid and cold as his exterior promised, but she caught the wind of a surprise in his hard eyes when she returned it with just as much force. “Of course,” she said with a slight smile that bordered on polite. “I’ve heard about your ill fortune. It’s good that you have so many great people in your life to lean on.”

Along with their coldness, C.K.'s gaze was as always calculating and unimpressed, pinpointing your weaknesses if he was not a fan of you. Cass's had long since been catalogued, his worry about being a good enough man, about self worth, about the ranch all targets C.K. could hit successfully every time. Amy, however, he did not know, and didn't know whether or not she was friend or foe. He makes a noise in agreement to her terms, eyes narrowing as she squeezes his hand back with some strength. "Good men often have good people around them. I couldn't be more grateful for my daughters and my lovely wife." Cruel as he may be, there is a deep love in his eyes when C.K. looks at Olivia, evidence all over his face. For her part, unawares of it all, bustles from the kitchen to the table getting food, looking up and motioning to Amy. "Dear, could you help me get the rest of the dinner? And Cassidy, honey, could you go get your sister? She's on a phone call outside." She might not stop C.K. from saying his hurtful words, but Olivia was becoming adept at giving Cass escape routes, and he nods to her in agreement.

"Okay Momma. Baby, I'll be right back." He tells Amy, sure that she could handle herself with his mom.

A lump formed in Amy's throat as CK wasted no time in disparaging his son and rendering Cass and all his efforts worthless in his father's eyes. Anger began to simmer, the quiet fire Cass started when he told her the truth about his relationship with his father, and Amy had to wonder if she'd make it through dinner without causing a scene if this was how it was going to start. "Oh, of course, it takes a village," she said with a polite, too sweet a smile perched on her lips. Of course it took a village when you were a hard, heartless man who refused to acknowledge just how great a man his son was. "And honestly, Mrs. Kingston, the house still looks amazing, you take such great care of it. And the ranch..." she let out an impressed breath, unable to stop herself from pushing for Cass and giving him the recognition he deserved. "It's flourishing. and so, so beautiful. You can tell it's in the family and cared for with love," she smiled brightly at Cass, just as Olivia gave them both errands to do in order to avoid further unpleasantness.

"Of course, put me to work, I'm here to help," Amy nodded her head and gave a reassuring smile to Cass before he ducked out of the dining room to get Greer, and Amy headed to the kitchen with Olivia.

A humph is all that C.K. uses to respond to Amy's glowing words on the ranch, something that sounds suspiciously like "I built this place, little girl" being coughed into his hand before he takes a sip of his water glass on the table. They leave him behind, however, when they set off to do what Olivia asks.

Cass finds Greer laughing, on the phone with a man the oldest Kingston doesn't know and doesn't really care to, tapping her on the shoulder. She turns, sees that it's him, and gives him a big hug, though her honey brown eyes give him a worried once over that's been a staple of their greetings since his accident. "Dinners ready." He whispers to her, touching her arm. "And be nice to Amy. I can't have Dad and you making this worse than it has to be." After making affronted noises, one hand over the speaker on her phone, Greer rolls her eyes and agrees, and Cass nods, casting a gaze at the sky to collect himself before heading back in, the twinkling stars a good balm to his spirit.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Olivia takes the opening she so adeptly maneuvered and proceeds to do the thing Cass said she would do - which was, corner Amy in the kitchen with hungry eyes. "First of all honey please stop with the Mrs. Kingston nonsense," she flaps her hands in dismissal "Olivia will be just fine. And you can call Cass's daddy C.K., he doesn't care too much. Now. I need you to tell me everything about how you got together with my son and convinced him to give me at least a chance of having a daughter-in-law and grandbabies because Cassidy won't tell me a lick of anything and I'm dyin' here!" Olivia clasps her hands together and pouts, her position of sadness bringing to mind easily her sons own dramatics. "Take pity on a momma who hasn't seen her son seriously with anyone in over ten years. Please?"

Naively, Amy let the brief conversation with CK derail her thoughts of being cornered by Cass's mom, so she was a little surprised when they got into the kitchen where everything awaited, ready to be served. The help she enlisted Amy for was nothing but a ruse, and panic flashed white and hot through her as Olivia turned around with eyes gleaming with joy and curiosity. "Olivia, okay," she accepted with a chuckle, finding it strange to call her Mrs. Kingston but not wanting to seem impolite even if it made her feel like she was a teenager. As for CK, however, she wasn't sure if she could roll his name over her lips but she promised herself she'd at least try. Time to ponder that, though, was short-lived as a flush painted Amy's cheeks pink. A daughter in law and grandbabies were so far away from where Cass and Amy were, even if it didn't surprise her that it was exactly where Olivia's mind went. After all, she had no doubt Janey, Russell and Candice were all celebrating the fact that Amy had found someone to be with, too. "Oh, I don't know if I should tell you everything, it doesn't make me look all that great," she admitted with a nervous chuckle, tucking her hands into the pockets of her skirt. "And in the end, I think it was him who convinced me I could be someone's daughter in law someday, not the other way around. You've raised an incredible man, Olivia, and any woman would be so lucky to have him. I have no idea how he was still single when we crossed paths again."

Amy's words demurring to speak of the intricacies of her and Cass's relationship has the opposite affect and just causes Olivia's intense curiosity to flare up more. She mentally resolves to go into town that very next day and visit her friends, to spin the gossip wheel and discover as much about their relationship as she can, but for now settles on clasping Amy’s hands in her own. They're soft, and warm, but a bit tough from so many years working in a kitchen. "Oh, I know that. Cass is the best of my children, but don't tell the other two that." Olivia adds with a wink, smile bright and welcoming. "He carries a deep sadness in him that many women don't care to look into. They just want his pretty face - the one I made, thank you very much." She briefly preens. " - and don't want the man underneath. Not when they discover his soul isn't as whole and peachy keen as they thought his muscles would be." Olivia snorts, unimpressed. "No matter the why of being single, just be happy you snatched him up when you did. I know I am. Now we can talk more about this later, can you grab that pan of Mac and cheese? I'll just get this pitcher and we'll be all good." Grasping the aforementioned kitchen item she bustles to the dining room, where Greer sails in through the other door, Cass following.

Curiosity shone brighter in Olivia's eyes, unsettling Amy with concerns of whether she would learn the full story of how the two of them got together, and if so what she'd think of Amy then. The rocky path to their relationship had been paved with Amy's less than stellar moments, and she worried that if Olivia learned just how Amy hurt Cass... Well, let's just say she'd lose the allegiance of the single Kingston where she still had it, other than Cass. Warm hands pull her back from the what-ifs rising in her mind, and she beamed a smile and nodded her head. There was no doubt in what she was saying now, Cass was the best of their children in Amy's, albeit biased, mind, too. "Your secret's safe with me," she promised, her expression growing even more affectionate as Olivia spoke about the darkness Cass harbored. "Does it make me sound terrible if I say that darkness is what I love most about him? He'd be perfect without it, and now... he's just perfectly imperfect. And I'm elated and counting my blessings every day that I snatched him up," she confessed with a chuckle, reaching for the pan Olivia had instructed her to grab, and following her out of the kitchen in time to meet Greer and Cass trailing behind. "Hi, Greer," Amy greeted awkwardly, thankful for the full hands that gave her an excuse to avoid the even more awkwardness of juggling the decision of whether to hug, wave or stand as far away as possible.

After a dinner that, while having some low parts, didn't go as badly as it could've been, Olivia pronounces Amy her new favorite person and praises Cass for getting such a catch. She recruits Greer and Cass to help with the dishes, though the tall blonde is very unwilling to do so. After hearing C.K. bring Brooks, a source of pain for Amy and contention for Cass himself, anger at his father for someone other than himself had taken root in his chest. He couldn't say no to his Momma however (Cass had been raised better than that) and shoots Amy a look before leaving the room. "Amy, would you like a tour of the house?" CK says suddenly, adept hands wheeling his chair around to face her, away from the table. The intentions he has do not swim in his gaze as he waits for her answer. "I may be on wheels, but I can still give a house tour."

There were highs and there were lows over the course of the delicious meal Olivia had prepared for them. Greer and Amy did their best to be civil with each other, although the moment CK brought up Brooks into the equation, the brunette’s eyes wandered to her once-friend, recalling the harsh words Greer had used against Amy that day, the knife still in her back twisting with it. She had grown more accustomed to talking about Brooks and having his name brought up, but there’s heartlessness in the way CK does it that clues Amy into where Greer had gotten that talent in the first place. Calming the worried looks Cass throws her way, Amy pushes through dinner like a trooper, putting her best smiles on and charming Olivia by the end of the meal. It couldn’t hurt, especially if the woman would learn about Cass and Amy’s beginnings, and Amy liked Olivia enough to want to keep her on her side. The three of them shuffled into the kitchen to clean up, leaving Amy in uncomfortable silence with CK, that is, until he wheeled away from the table and offered a tour of the house. Cautious, Amy watched closely for any signs of ulterior motives but either there were none or he hid them well, and Amy was no sucker. Still, not wanting to be unnecessarily rude, she accepted the offer.

“I would love one. I don’t think I’ve ever moved past the kitchen and the living room, to be honest,” she admitted as she got up from her seat and stood by CK to let him know he should lead the way.

C.K. may have been skilled enough to hide whatever end game he'd been going for, but that had more to do with Amy's lack of experience with him. If it had been Cass he'd asked, the tall blonde would've made some excuse immediately. He knew when dark times were ahead for him, and would never forget the many faces of his demon. Aside from the Brooks comment though, he hadn't said anything worse to his girlfriend, as he didn't know her well enough yet to stab at her weaknesses. Hopefully, not enough to be cruel, Cass thinks to himself, a slight raincloud over his head as he starts to wash the dishes that're in the sink, Greer and Olivia chatting while they pack up the food, scrape the plates, and clean out the dishwasher. There's a snide remark from Greer that Olivia shushes with another Amy endorsement, and Cass resolves himself to be happy with at least his mother being a fan.

All the while, C.K. wheeled out of the dining room with Amy at his side, lackadaisically motioning to the foyer, the living room, passing the large middle staircase as they head to the back of the house, on the other side from the kitchen and towards C.K.'s office. It is there that he stops his motions and turns his gaze towards Amelia. "I need you to tell me what you're doing with my son."

Although C.K. disguised the walk as a tour of the house, there was no real interest in showing off the rooms they passed, merely naming them as he wheeled ahead and made sure Amy tagged along. Once they've passed the staircase, the doubts Amy's had since saying yes came true, and she knew there was more to this "tour" than C.K. had pretended to be. Patient and quiet, though, Amy sticks to his side and lets things progress the way he wanted them to as the voices from the kitchen become more and more distant. "I'm sorry?" She wondered, genuinely puzzled when he swivels around in his chair to face her and pose his question. A question she could have expected from a worried father to his daughter's boyfriend, but coming from C.K., Amy doubted they were well-intentioned. "I'm not following. I'm dating your son, seeing what future we can have together."

Arms relatively toned for his age and clothed in thick light green button down fold over C.K.'s chest as he looks at her, hardness in the set of his mouth and the hues of his eyes. Though his hair has grown longer now than in his youth, beard full and evidence of handsomeness in his face and form, its evident that this man has no such beauty inside. The years and the hatred he's had festering within him has made its way to the surface in ways that his obvious love for his wife and daughter do not. "My son, as loathe as I am to call him that, is a disappointment. A disgrace. He lets down anyone who ever depends on him, can't do simple things right. And, he's a pushover, and a let down. The only thing he has going for him is the face his momma gave him and his last name. What the hell are you doing with him? You're pretty. Smart. He's going to drag you down. Get out now while you can. I'm sure you can find better than a weak man."

Bitterness. Years of holding grudges. A hard hatred that turned the man into a stone statue─ beautiful, yet cold. Impossible to feel. Amy sees all that as CK crosses his arms on his chest and takes a long, hard look at her, his eyes scrutinizing every line of her face and body, and weighing them on invisible scales against what he's already got on Cass. And somehow, in his opinion, the scales tipped to Amy's favor, the sheer lunacy of which drew a humorless, disbelieving laugh from her mouth. "Excuse me?" She questioned, and though Cass had prepared her and told her of all the harsh words he's had to endure from the man over the years, they still stupefy her momentarily. "You know, I'm aware it is your roof that we are under now, and so help me god I am about to break every single rule of behavior my parents have instilled in me, but how on earth can you think that about your son, that extraordinary man out there?" Her voice rose in volume, a crescendo of anger that started in the soles of her feet and gained momentum as it rose to wrap her heart in red. "If you've bothered to look at him and get to know him beyond your judgments, you would see all the ways in which he is better than me, than you, than all of us combined."

"Extraordinary? That's a word will should never be applied to my son, who I'm sure is known as Cassidy Kay Kingston the lesser." C.K. nearly spit off, fire so like Cass's own lighting in his eyes. After making his son so miserable all these years, many of his girlfriends had not confronted him to his face about his treatment of his son, despite the man believing he was firmly in the right. And having it be Amy, but a girl in C.K.'s wizened eyes, the poisoned guns came out. "Whatever talents he's got with his dick, don't let it sway you. You'll wake up one day stuck in a life you don't want and you could've avoided it if you listened to me now. The man can barely run a business, let alone attempt to lead a family." C.K. insists, belief in every word. "I know him better than you ever will, little girl. As much as he's let me down, that's still my son and I'll know him better than you ever will. He will never be ENOUGH for you, because not enough of anything. Look past your anger and see the truth. I'm trying to save you."

The poison and the conviction in his words break Amy's heart, but the red hot anger hardens the cracks and sends the shards splintering towards the man in the wheelchair. Maybe for the first time, she thought he was lucky to be stuck in them, because it was the only thing keeping Amy from poking a finger at his chest and resorting to violence. "Known to whom like that, because no one in the entire world has a bad opinion of him, other than you. But you'd think the world is wrong and you're not, wouldn't you?" She questioned with a shake of her head, folding her arms on her chest to hide the trembling, a grimace of fury on her features. "You are blind to everything that's in front of your eyes, and the poison you have running through your veins instead of blood nearly tore him apart, nearly tore your entire family apart. He runs this business better than you ever had, and that's without any support from his father or anyone else. He holds your entire world on his shoulders, and still he just wants to make you proud─ not because he's weak but because he has heart, something that couldn't be said of you," she went on a tangent, unsure where to start her thoughts and if she could finish them. "You don't know me, you don't know anything about me, you just assume I'm better than him because you refuse to see the man that he's become no thanks to you. I don't need your saving, the only one who needs saving is you─ and from yourself and your bitter, small soul that cannot possibly fathom how wrong you are."

"Bitter? Small?" C.K. borderline roared, the tensions and words between heightening in volume. If this continued, they would soon call the presence of the others in the home, gain the company and awareness of others. So convinced and set in his ways was Cass's father than her words meant nothing, told him of a delusion she'd wrapped herself in in order to protect herself from Cass's true colors. "The world is a fucked up place, little girl, and often wrong. And in my home you'd do well to respect my knowledge of that which you do not know.. I didn't do jack shit to my family, it's his incompetence that led to his accident. And you, I heard. How dare you point fingers at me when you are a major cause of the accident that caused so much strife in my home? If me pushing him to be better has torn up his soul, as you so say, that's on him. If he'd been made of stronger stuff, maybe he could've kept his shit together, but I can't change anyone that drastically - even if it is to finally make him a man. Heart?" C.K. scoffs, venom. "The man has too much. It's made him soft."

She struck a nerve, Amy thought, good. Of course, the boiling anger that put tremors in hands that were normally steady, and turned her knees to half-jello wasn't the best case scenario, but they were aware of the risks when they set up the dinner in the first place. "All due respect, even if you don't deserve a lot of it from me, I know more about how fucked up the world is than you do," she shook her head, the bitterness in her throat forcing its way out through a laugh. "And I have no problem leaving your home right now and never setting foot back here again, but not until I've said my peace,"she promised, ignoring the sting that being called up for the role she played in Cass's miseries gave her. She'd make it up to him and him only, there was no one else she should be proving herself or apologizing to, especially not the father who never appreciated the amazing son he had, and always wished for a replacement, an improvement.

"That wasn't the worst strife in your home, and believe me, I've had the blanks filled in for me. I don't know what happened to you that made you so cold and so hard on a boy that never deserved it, but you'd better use the time you have left to consider if you've ever been truly fair to him. Pull the wool from your eyes and see him for what he really is, and then maybe, just maybe, you won't die a bitter, lonely man. Yes, you have your daughters and your wife and they love you dearly, but you could have so much more. You could have a son, and grandchildren someday, but at the rate you're going... They won't even know your name if you live long enough to see them. And honestly? I feel sorry for you, I pity you because you've missed out on an entire lifetime worth with this man that is so much more than you ever will be, no matter how much you prize your legacy. You are poorer for not knowing him and not letting him into your heart. Maybe then it wouldn't be as cold and hard as it is now."

"How old are you? Around Cass's age I suppose, so early thirties, though your face looks older." He says snidely, eyes narrowed into slits. "You couldn't dream of the shit I've seen. The sacrifices I've had to make for my family - my, family, to be clear. You've been here for ten seconds and you presume to tell me about my son, about all the harm I've supposedly done to him. Yes, please, take your ass out of my house as soon as possible, and God forgive me for trying to do you a favor." C.K. spits, face darkening as his temper rises. "In the beginning, it wasn't about deserve, Amelia Taylor. It was about pushing him, to work harder, do better. I tried to stop him, but he showed his true character when he left and I can never trust that boy again. I have been fair to him, fairer than you'll ever know, because you're not a part of this fucking family and you know nothing, little girl. Nothing. I have a son, regretfully, though really, how could I feel bad about missing out on his kids? It's the one blessing he's given me that he hasn't had them yet, and you don't look the type to ever give him one. Or am I wrong?" Cass's father jeers, his confidence in himself looming above his actual wheelchaired form. "I am poorer for the injury he has done to my legacy. Don't get it twisted. And now I see that clearly, you're too far gone for me to help. You've found something to willingly love in my disappointment of a son, and for your stupidity in doing that you deserve him. I hope you two are very happy together."

Funny how people always assume life has to do with age. That you've only earned the right to boast about your miseries when you've had enough years. As if tragedy and misery ever cared about how young one is. Amy's had her fair share: the sudden divorce of her parents, death of a loved one, depression that stretched over into decades, addiction, rehab, med school that was a hell in and of itself─ cutthroat and filled with more tragedies that someone like Amy felt as if they were her own. And here was CK, high and mighty in his wheelchair as if it were a throne, assuming to know who she is and what she's been through. For someone so old and wise, he had no idea of the way the world worked beyond the ranch and Wilmington.

"And you couldn't imagine what I've been through , not just seen. So don't presume to know anything about me," she warned, her voice an icy calm in the storm raging around them. There was no seeing reason with this man, no way he could ever acknowledge his mistakes, a lifetime of them at that, so Amy shook her head. "You use your age as some bargaining chip, but what good is it when you're still as dead set in your ways as if you were a toddler?" The question was rhetorical, and she had no time to elaborate more as he spat more of his insults in her face, seemingly rising out of the chair with each one, until she felt small and looked down on. Her heart broke as she already knew that Cass would learn from his father's mistakes and be everything the man was not, everything he wanted his father to be, and the fact that CK couldn't see that... It was his loss, she'd decided.

"You are so wrong, in so many things, but why should I bother to try and make you see the light? You're nobody to me, even if your son is my everything. And you know, I may not be part of this family, but he is, and I am part of his life, and you will never ever make him feel insufficient and worthless as long as I'm around. I might be too far gone for him, but I'm a better person because of it, because of him. I wish the same could be said of you."

A fury cold and fierce raged in C.K.'s eyes at Amy's last words, lips curling immediately to hurl more barbed words solely meant to drag down. This, this man using his words to tear people down, was what Cass had been dealing with for about twenty some years give or take, and the reason for his six year absence had never been clearer. Of course, he couldn't have for seen his return, the business that had become his life and the woman who'd own his heart, and hadn't known it would only heighten the abuse. Whatever it was that would've been said was interrupted by an arrival - Cass, bearded face stormy and tight, mile long strides eating up the distance between him and Amy the moment he saw her, arm looping protective and strong around her waist. From the positions of each person it was clear an argument had been had, the air sizzling with tension and fury.

"Dad. What the fuck did you say to her?" Cass asks angrily, wishing desperately he'd come earlier, protected Amy from what he'd experienced.

"Boy. Don't curse. Your mother wouldn't be very proud of you." C.K. grits out, head tilted in an unimpressed fashion.

The sound of footsteps echoing as someone─ rushed, heavier than any woman in the house was─ approached them. Even before she saw his legs diminishing the distance that separated them, Amy knew it was Cass and breathed out a sigh of relief. Not because she was afraid of going further into the argument with his father, but because she feared she'd cross a line, too. Like Greer had when she defended her brother, Amy wondered if she had done the same, ruined something beyond repair? For a twisted second, she thought Cass would take his father's side─ as if that would ever happen. His arm wraps around her back and hand rests on her waist, and Amy feels the anger sizzling out of her, leaving through her pores as she covers his hand with hers and turns around to stroke his cheek gently. "It's okay, babe. Everything's fine," she assured with quiet confidence. "We were just having a small disagreement." The last thing she wanted was to deepen the conflict that ran between the two men, especially in front of Olivia. Amy itches to say something about how pride has nothing to do with cursing and how Olivia wouldn't be affected by that, but something holds her back. "Maybe we should go?"

The touch of her hand sends a tiny wave of calm flowing through his system, though years of conditioned fear and hurt could never be erased so easily. Amy gave Cass strength, strength that he desperately needed though anger on her behalf could keep him running for as long as required to pay back whatever pain she'd received tenfold. The backs of soft fingers brush along his whiskered cheek and the tallest and oldest Kingston son turns his head just enough so that they just glance onto his full lips. Hearing C.K. call him boy, however, still incited a powerful and immediate reaction, an imperceptible shrinking that dictated how much power the word had coming from his father. Though he was still glaring, he'd taken a step back with Amy in tow, mouth drawn into a tight, stressed line. "Yeah. Yeah we can leave. Momma says to drop by at any time," he says slowly, smoothing a hand down the curve of her waist partly to assure her and partly to ground himself.

"You should go. And don't bring her back." C.K. barks out without formality, arms folded again, blue eyes sharp enough to cut. "You've chosen an opinionated woman there, son. I'm not sure you're man enough to handle her."

Rage ballooned in his chest so fast his mind could barely keep up, red winking in his vision. His hand had to have tightened on Amy's waist so much there could be bruises - they'd see later. As Cass had for countless years, his broken heart reined in the anger and replaced it with feelings of inadequacy so strong another crack appeared in her heart. "My girlfriend doesn't need to be handled, sir. Give Greer my love. C'mon Amy, lets go." He pushes open the door and ushers Amy out in front of him, slamming the door behind him. He keeps it all inside until they get into her car, and he asks her to start driving. Once they're out of the visual range of the Big House, Cass spreads his legs a bit so he can prop his elbows up and them, and runs his hands through his hair and over his face, shoulder slumping something mightily. "I'm sorry, Amelia." Finally come the blonde man's words, face shrouded as he massages his temples. "I should've have - I shouldn't have left you alone with him....what did he say?"

It's the little things, she realized as she watched CK tear Cass down with a single word. It's not just calling him names or insulting him, it's the tone that he uses, the genuine disappointment that underlies every syllable and that is entirely misplaced. Amy's heart aches at the thought of Cass having to endure that, when he was younger and more promising to the man, and now that he's older, having met expectations beyond those anyone's put on him, save for the father that will never be satisfied. Though the open invitation from Olivia warms her heart, she only scoffs quietly when CK warns not to bring her around again, as if she needed him to voice that particular thought, but no matter. Cass reacts faster than she has a chance to even get offended, still aching for the man whose fingers bite into her flesh with more force than even their hard lovemaking called for, and she winces a little in pain but keeps it to herself. She misses the chance to thank Olivia for the dinner, and simply gives CK a look as they pass him by in silence, going straight for the car parked on the side of the house. She can feel him fuming, hurt and anger and desperate need for approval all swirling through all of his six and then some inches, and she keeps any comments to herself though she wants nothing more than to hold him and tell him she's sorry for all that he's had to endure, and to remind him that he wouldn't have to go it alone anymore.

Instead, she obliges his plea to just start driving and gets them as far away from there as possible. The Big House grew smaller in the rear mirrors as she drove away, and only when its brilliant lights faded entirely did Cass finally move, exhaustion and pain clear in every twitch of his muscles as he combed his fingers through his thick hair and sank into himself, apologizing. Amy decided then was a good a time as any, stopped the car by the side of the road, a leitmotif in their relationship, and turned the ignition off even if the headlights remained on to warn any coming cars.

"Hey," she started and unbuckled her seat belt, turning in her seat to face him better. "Hey, baby," she repeated, taking hold of his chin to force his eyes to lock with hers. "This isn't your fault. You've got nothing to apologize for, you hear me? What he said... It doesn't matter. You matter," she touched his chest where his heart beat with the limp of an injured animal. "We matter," the hand moved to her own heart this time. "You came just in time, though, because one more word about you and I was going to shove him out of that chair. Nobody talks about my man like that," she shook her head adamantly, framing his face with gentle hands. "Whatever he said, I only want you more, I only care about you more, even if it's us against the world."

He's not expecting to feel the car pull over, for her to turn off the ignition and face him. Dealing with his father always made him feel like David facing Goliath, insurmountable odds before him as instead of using his fists, C.K. used his words. A look, a sneer, a pointed ignoring of his presence. Everything geared towards making Cass feel small, disappointing, and insignificant. His spirit, so big and bright and wonderful in his youth, had suffered countless beatings, so many so that in the man he became held scars on that very soul. Though his father never laid a hand on him, the emotional trauma he cause would probably never full go away.

Cass unbuckles his seatbelt with shaky fingers, turning to face her with a vulnerable, unsure look in his blue eyes and he would probably be ashamed of if he could see. This had been Amy's first time facing down C.K., after all, and he hadn't stood tall. Worry clenched at his heart deep inside, sure she'd be disappointed in him , even as she said her pet name for him in a way that caressed the syllables and took a hold of his chin. You matter. We matter. Emotion surges, and his throat closes up, swallowing hard. "I would've liked to have seen that," Cass finally says softly in his deep voice, hand coming up to wrap loosely around her wrist as she frames his face with her hands. "I don't deserve you. I love you so much." Murmurs come out, the corner of one lip threatening to twitch up. Blue hues close as he presses his face into her hands, gives a slow slide. "Are you sure? You can always nope out if you want, I won't hold you back." Forced lightheartedness rings in every word, a front to the emotions he truly felt.

Fear saturated those gorgeous blue eyes, his pupils swimming in an ocean of insecurities his own father had placed upon him. Olivia spoke about the darkness in Cass, but Amy wasn't sure if that was the right term, not when he was looking at her like an animal caught in a trap, waiting to be released or the other, less appealing option. Her decision had been made, however, a while ago when she showed up on his doorstep that night, asking for forgiveness and a second chance. They bared their souls to each other that night, flaws and all, and it was those flaws that Amy has been falling in love with steadily since that day. Or maybe not so steadily, as her heart leapt with a fierceness unknown to her, to defend and protect the man in front of her. "I would've liked to have done it," she admitted matter-of-factly, a quick smile brushing over her lips as his hands wrapped around her wrists, held onto the promises she was making him. "That's my line," she said with a small, sad smile, leaning in to rest her forehead against his. "And believe me when I tell you, you deserve the world. Whatever he's been trying to make you think, you deserve the world and more, Cassidy. And if I can give you just a piece of it and make you happy, then I'm a lucky girl," she whispered softly, tenderly, her thumbs caressing the sharp lines of his cheekbones. "After all this time, all that we've been through, you think a bitter old man is gonna make me give up on you? On us? I'm in all the way, babe. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

Yes, Amy had had some issues when they'd first re-met again after so many years, but if Cass was being honest....so had he. His issues were shoved down so deep he it wasn't until he'd encountered her, made him feel that way, it brought out his other emotions as well. Combined with C.K.'s ever heightening cruelty, it was no wonder he'd reached a breaking part and had to work on himself. Having Amy with him, loving him as he loved her, only strengthened him, an emotional bond that he hadn't known how much he needed til he had it. A slight nose nuzzle accompanies the pressing of her forehead against his, and Cass takes another deep breath, the calm lilt of her words soothing the beat of his heart. Everything she said were things that he'd only recently begun to believe, but hearing her say them got him just that bit closer. Despite his own doubts about himself, he did have faith in the two of them, in this woman who'd changed the direction of his life. "You make me happier than you'll ever know, Amelia." A deep chuckle settles in the air between them after she sweeps her fingers against his scruffy cheeks. "Good. Thank you. I want to keep you around for as long as you're willing to stay." Cass hesitates for a second, but if he can't ask her who can he ask? He doesn't trust anyone as much as her. "You don't think anything he says is true?"

Their noses bumped in the small space left between them, and Amy smiled as she felt him breathe out the tensions that had kept his heartbeats unsteady. She could almost feel it leave his chest, and knew that it hadn’t completely undone the damage his father had been doing for most of his life, but she made a scratch on the surface at the very least. She had to begin somewhere. The smile only deepened when he admitted the happiness being with her brought him, and a golden warmth spread through her chest lazily, saturating her insides. The glow of it, however, dampened by the question that left his lips, and the urge to turn the car back on and drive back to give CK more of her thoughts is almost too strong to overcome. Almost. “I don’t. He’s an old, bitter and hurt man who can’t see past himself, past the flaws he thinks you have. You’re a flawed man, honey, like all of us, it’s the curse of the living, but nothing he puts on you carries any real weight. Your heart is your best quality, your hands could carry mountains if they had to, and your dedication is unmatched, even by your father who thinks he’s somehow better than you. He’s not. And the ranch isn’t his greatest accomplishment— you are. Or you would be if he had been any different to you. The beautiful, kind man you are today, the man that I love? He’s amazing, and he’s got nothing to do with this image CK has of you.”

Some part of Cass was clear headed enough to admit there were truths in what Amy was saying. C.K. wasn't a young man, made even older by the rotten core he'd held for so long. Bitter he was for sure, unhappy about events in his life he couldn't control. And he was hurt...hurt by his own son. Whether or not C.K. had a basis for his hurt ass feelings, Cass realized no boy deserved that, not from any adult or person and certainly not by his own father, a man who was supposed to uplift and love his child. Not systematically and ritualistically tear down his self confidence. "Carry mountains?" He teases, the tone of his voice lighter than it had been in a couple hours, since seeing his father again. A light flares up within the cage of his ribs, something bright and strong that the blonde man can hold onto. "His opinion still matters. I know it shouldn't, but it does. He shouldn't. I shouldn't care. But hearing you say you believe in me..." Cass says slowly, aforementioned large hands reaching up to grasp both of her hands and pull them from his face, curling them into little fists so he can brush slightly scratchy kisses on her knuckles. "Is enough."

"I know. We wouldn't be sitting in a car by the side of the road if it didn't matter," she pointed out with a half-smile, thinking about it. How deep his desire to prove himself to a father who never saw him for what he was ran. How strong the need for approval. And it wasn't a sign of Cass's weakness that he couldn't move past that─ it was a sign of his strength that he still cared, somewhere deep down, about the man that had inflicted such verbal abuse on him that any lesser man would have turned to the same outlet of hatred as CK did. And for that reason alone the golden glow returned. "And I know you shouldn't care, but the fact that you do makes you the man that you are, and I don't know if I've told you this, Cassidy Kingston, but I kinda like you. I'm head over heels in love with you, even." Soft smile spread across her features as bearded lips tickled her knuckles. "Do we need more time, or can I get us home now?"

She might not have spent over thirty years with C.K., experienced the lash of his words or the crippling of the self worth he'd inflicted, but Amy got it. She understood. And she believed in him. Relief, swift and fierce, soars through his chest, and his fingers briefly tighten on hers, thankful it hid the temporary tremor there. The smile that she gave him when Cass kissed her knuckles only added to that feeling, an easing up of the self doubt he carried so much more when he'd had a brush with his father. "We can go back." He rumbles out, kissing her hands once more. "But promise me you won't let him get you alone again. For my sake."

His face lit up with something gentler and brighter than the shadow of doubt that had darkened his features, and Amy let out a heavy breath. If she had dissuaded even the tiniest bit of the self-criticism CK caused, then she would count the night a victory. She stole one last stroke of cheek covered in short, thick hairs, and turned the ignition back on. "I'll do my best to avoid him. For your sake, and his own. There's no telling how much out of control I'll get if he ever tries to talk to me like that again," she warned, turning on the empty road that wound its way towards Cass's house on the remote end of the property.

#para #para: amy #para: meet the parents #tw: mentions of verbal/emotional abuse #ft. ck #ck sucks #we all wish we had girlfriends as great as amy #ft. olivia #ft. greer #self para #( wildfire lies and humiliation ; c.k. )

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paganchristian · 4 years ago

Photo

I’m remembering the scent of these nasturtiums that I grew from seed, and their beautiful colors, so brilliantly fiery. A pack of seeds, from Dollar General, 25 cents or was it 50? And a bunch of pansies bought at this special nursery where we lived, ruffled, most beautiful bicolors of pastel and dark purple and maroon, yellow and pale storm blue. And their scent was amazing, as were the hyacinths so heavenly a scent. The heirloom rose was almost like a fruity berry scent but lasted one year before it soon began to waste away in our humid climate, and the peony the same. The tuberose and the flowering tobacco were my favorite of flower scents, except that the tuberose was so overpowering that it started to make me feel ill. Nicotiana, flowering woodland tobacco, is said to be intoxicating in fragrance, and I agree, ... ahh..

Anyway, as I sit and smell the grass mown sweet smell and the herbs drifting from my patio, I am here today, without any particular fragrant flowers yet this year. But the wifi is picking up outside the house and I am just sitting here, instead of petting the cat who has become more like the average cat, in a short time, just sitting nearby after a little bit of petting and playing, but then not as active or interactive, just a pleasant presence. But my daughter, ever-attentive, wants to spend the whole evening here with the cat and really I don’t think I mind. Everything is peaceful when you can just be so calm and the whole world about you is just serene, country life, is it numbing, too simple, too easy to be happy? To ignore pressing concerns in ignorant bliss and in soothing ease and pleasure? But before i had my daughter, the same things didn’t cheer me. It was pure numbness to the point of depressive emptiness and futility, meaninglessness.

So,... I guess that numb feeling would return again when she is grown and I’m alone one day again, with my husband, it would return unless I learn the ways that my daughter seems to cheer me up and am able to cheer myself the same. Is it the same, can it be the same, if you’re actually an extrovert instead of the extreme introvert you had to learn to act like, but never really was happy with that? What will it be like when my husband and I are alone? Or is there another way, besides being a crazy cat lady all alone with my cats, and cats, though I love them, won’t be enough company for the deprived and starved extroversion in me?

And maybe I could be like those families all over the world, in many other parts of the world, where the children don’t move out when they grow up and maybe that is the answer, if my daughter is really happy to do that, but maybe. Or maybe my family member will grow close to me.

Or maybe I’ll make friends, but making friends feels like more and more of a distant dream that I don’t know if I’ll ever stumble on the luck of finding a really good friend, and if I did then what save it from the same tarnished hollowness or the false, draining polite numb emptiness that my friendships became or the final insulting drifting thoughtlessly without a warning away from what was for many years the deepest love, or meaningless misunderstandings to show that they forgot what we once shared and so clearly discussed and agreed so perfectly,... what once was the height of closeness. So I then feel, I thought you knew me, but you aren’t the same anyway. So any friendship has that potential. The more I see and learn and know the more likely it seems most friendships could become that way in time with me because I’m too different. I don’t fit in any of the comfortable predictable roles in most anyone’s lives so I just get displaced in time.

But with my daughter, that feels so much safer. I just have to teach her all that she needs in life before she is too old and grows beyond my influence anymore. Then she will keep those things close to heart all her life and we’ll be close all our lives together. And I have to just protect her from ill influences, until she is old enough to see for herself and judge well. I really think most children and most teenagers and most young adults for that matter are led astray and hurt so much by ill influences, even all the way up into their perhaps mid twenties, perhaps even later, because though we are expected to be grown up and think and figure out things for ourselves when we’re in our twenties and 30s, it’s not so easy after all. But, it’s not to say parents could teach their kids better, because if they knew better themselves it’s often still hard to teach, if you even have the time and energy for it. But with my daughter, I feel like maybe I could teach her so much to help her. I am weird, my life has been weird, and I’ve had all this time to learn, think out and write out so many things and I hope that it could help her a lot, so I’ll see, I guess, when the time comes.

But I really feel anyway that most young adults really suffer because of all they don’t know and understand and choose wrong, ignorantly, maybe up till their 30s or beyond often. Especially if life is hard on us, or we have unusual difficulties that no one taught us to deal with. But maturity for everyone is not as thorough and well-formed by then as people seem to think. We generally cope well enough, so to speak. But not necessarily so very well.

So many causalities can occur because of the foolishness that we take on in these not so mature times of our lives. I know that there is only so far I can go or so long before I will have to let my daughter have more freedom but I actually thing that in many ways, I can protect her even into her early twenties, maybe beyond, while still letting her have a healthy life and social opportunities and so on. I won’t be controlling or anything, but just guiding, if she also agrees.

And I would have liked this for myself, really, I think, when I was that age, because if my mom had been so close and such a good friend to me as my daughter and I are, then I think I would have willingly learned all that I want to teach my daughter, and I would have willingly went along with the guidance and carefulness that I would advise my daughter to have about the world, about romance, about friends, and other things.

But what happened to me was a much more average life, in which I was trying to find romance, find a religion or spiritual path, find my career, find myself, cure my depression (bipolar, which I didn’t know then), anxiety, existential angst, despair, find self-worth, find purpose, heal the gaping despair and confusion and meaninglessness I felt, feel I mattered, feel people wanted and liked me and that I had a place and meaning in the world, and feel safe, feel I had a future, get away from parents who really didn’t want me around and felt I was a problem, ending up marrying quite young, because it was better than the other alternative, and felt hopeful, a soulmate, who I’d been with (off again on again) for a few years,... even though I was too naïve to see that the relationship was full of warning signs of the abuse that would later unfold.

Oh well, life is life. I have learned a lot. I hope I can teach my daughter a better path than what I had to take. I have so much I can see to teach my daughter, to learn for myself to be a happy crazy cat lady, or crazy cat family, too, lol, but not just that. Happy spiritual person, happy introvert by necessity not choice, happy artist, and all these things that I can be and my daughter is and we already are but are learning more and more to be and as time goes on I think we will be really well settled into this humble, simple and joyful, but calm life of depth and yet childlike mindful ease, work but not overwork, rest but not laziness, play but not too much escapism, spirituality but not being too detached from reality and the present world and other people. And I can share those things with my relative too.

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thrashff · 7 years ago

Text

P.A. (Part 3)

Title: P.A. (Personal Assistant)

(Part 3/?)

Part 2 | Part 4

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader (AU)

Word count: 3,200~

Synopsis: Y/N is stuck in a dead-end job, conflicted between pursuing her music career as a producer and her social anxiety. In a tight spot for money, she takes on a new, well-paying job that she desperately needs as Personal Assistant to the cold and emotionally distant Namjoon, an up and coming rap artist. (Cameos from the rest of the Bangtan boys)

A/N: Did anyone want some more BestFriend!Yoongi? Some shirtless Namjoon? No? Just me? Okay then.

It’s Saturday night, and you and Yoongi have decided to stay in.

“You’re late,” he accuses as you enter his apartment with your copy of the key.

You roll your eyes and drop the boxes of pizza on the kitchen counter. “I forgot to bring his Majesty Namjoon his meals for tomorrow.” You shrug off your jacket and hang it on the peg behind the door, kicking off your boots at the same time. “You know, you can have pizza delivered instead of making me go get it.”

“Pizza delivery always leaves some of the toppings on the box cover,” he complains. “Bring it over, will you?”

You roll your eyes and grab the boxes, bringing them with you to the living room, where he’s playing a video game. “You’re a lazy asshole.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he responds, not even removing his eyes from the screen.

“Just reminding you, in case I haven’t said it today.”

You open a box and take a slice, holding it in front of his face so that he can take a bite before taking one of your own. Using this method, the both of you eat through the first pizza as you quietly watch him play. Afterwards you get up to get your drinks, slipping a straw into his so he can drink without having to pause, and you stretch out on the sofa, resting your head on his lap as you browse your social media accounts.

“How was your first week?” Yoongi finally asks, having reached a checkpoint.

You glance at the screen to check his progress, and then shrug. “He’s an ice king and kind of harsh,” you confess. “But a job is a job, and he could be worse, I guess.”

“It’s funny,” he says, finally putting the controller down and opening the second box. “He’s only like that around you. I mean, he’s a perfectionist in the studio and pretty authoritative, but he’s a total goofball during down time,”

“Wait,” you say, pulling yourself up into a seated position. “You’ve been working with him?”

“Yeah,” he answers, mouth full of food. “I was ahead of schedule on my EP, and he asked me to produce one of the songs on the album.”

“And you like working with him?” you ask incredulously, and your best friend looks at you weirdly, nodding slowly. “Ugh!” you complain, whacking him in the arm with one of the throw pillows. “He’s an automaton! He’s not human! And all he raps about are chicks and how big his dick is!”

“Freedom of speech,” he says, dodging your attack. “What’s your point?”

You glare at him. “You’re supposed to be on my side, you know,”

“Yoongi is only on Yoongi’s side. Do you not know this yet?” he points out.

“You’re terrible and I hate you,” you tell him—something that is quickly becoming a mantra. You hope that if you say it enough times he’ll disappear, like an evil spirit or a bad dream.

“Stop pouting,” he complains. “It was just an observation.”

You hold the pillow you used to smack him close to your chest. “Maybe he just doesn’t like me,” you mumble into the fabric.

Yoongi nods enthusiastically. “That’s probably it. You are butt fucking ugly. Maybe he doesn’t like your face.”

You snap and jump on him, digging a knee into his ribcage and wrestling him down. “My face is a work of art, you asshole! I’ll show you ‘butt fucking ugly’!”

He raises his fingers in a cross at you, twisting to get off the couch and away. “Y/N! Don’t come near me, you animal! You haven’t gotten your rabies shot yet! Get back! Get back!”

You bare your teeth at him in a snarl, and chase him around the apartment until you both collapse on the bed in laughter. The quick game of cat and mouse leaves both of you panting, and he closes his eyes, blinding reaching out and patting the closest body part he can reach—which just so happens to be your face.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Someday they’ll invent technology that will make you as pretty as me,” he tries to say soothingly.

You make a face and stick your tongue out, making him quickly retract his offending appendage. “Yeah, and when that day comes, I’ll have to apologize to the entire population.”

“Why do you hate me so much?” he whines, maneuvering so that he’s lying next to you. He loops an arm around yours, curling slightly to embrace it like a pillow. His chin settles into the crook of your shoulder, and you automatically tilt your head so that your own chin rests on top of his. “All I do is tell you the truth.”

“Sometimes I just… sometimes I don’t wanna hear it, Suga,” you say wearily, reverting to your childhood nickname for him.

He swings a leg over yours, knowing the weight comforts you. A comfortable silence stretches between you, until he quietly says, “Jimin asked me why you dance so well.”

You blink at the ceiling. “I didn’t mean for him to find out,” you say.

“I know, Ducky.” It’s an annoying nickname, brought on in high school when he likened your dancing to a duck’s waddle, but it’s grown on you over the years. A hand reaches up and tugs at a lock of your hair. “How’s your back?”

“I still get shooting pains when I’m standing too long,” you answer honestly. “But it didn’t hurt after dancing with Jimin, so maybe it’s getting used to movement again.”

“You should dance more often,” he states.

“And you should write better verses.”

“You should get plastic surgery.”

“You should brush your teeth.”

“You should give me a massage.”

“You should stop drinking so much.”

“You should admit you find Namjoon attractive.”

“You should SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

You aren’t an idiot, you remind yourself in the days that follow. Of course Namjoon is attractive. Every girl in the building is probably already part of his fanclub, and he naturally commands the attention of every room he enters no matter who’s already in it. He’s tall and lean and exceptionally handsome in an off-kilter kind of way—the kind of face and presence that’s difficult to forget even if you try. More often than not you even find yourself jealous of his sense of style, admiring the way he puts his outfits together and complaining to yourself that God just really isn’t fair.

But more than his physical appearance and in spite of yourself, you start to pay more attention to how he interacts with everyone else in the studio. You notice that he always makes the receptionist in the front office laugh when he greets her in the morning, and that he gives the security guard in the lobby a special handshake whenever he sees him. He grows close to Director Bang very quickly, and the other producers he’s consulted with all seem to respect him.

You also notice that he breaks almost everything he comes into contact with—everything from doorknobs to his own glasses, like he doesn’t realize his own strength, or like he lowkey gets excited so easily that his usually graceful movements become brash.

Even when you’re busy, you find yourself noting even his smaller habits, like how he chews on his bottom lip when he’s anxious, or that he subconsciously wears thumb holes into all of his sweaters. In fact, the only time you don’t watch him is during the times you can’t—when he’s holed up in the studio working, or when he leaves to go home.

Yoongi reports, even though you never really ask, that his album is coming together quickly. Whenever he brings up your “boss,” you stare at him blankly to make it clear that you don’t care and simply return to whatever it was you were doing before he started talking.

The days breeze by, and you fall into a comfortable routine. It gets to the point where you can tell what kind of tea he needs in the mornings just by how he’s dressed—he wears black or grey when he’s frustrated or bored, so you give him White Peony to help soothe his nerves; accents of color (usually pink) when he’s in a good mood, so you give him Tie Guan Yin to help keep help sustain it; earth tones when he’s in a fit of melancholy, so you make him Earl Grey to help ground him.

You begin to read his body language and mood shifts so well that he’s stopped telling you what to get him for lunch, and actually allows you to choose for him. He’s as cold and dismissive to you as ever, but over time and continued exposure, you both begin to ease into each other’s presence like it’s a natural part of your day. He slowly begins to trust you more, giving you more and more responsibility in the planning of his debut, and things finally begin to look up.

“Namjoon,” you call, swiping the keycard that lets you into his apartment. “I’m here!”

A quick look around shows you that he isn’t in the kitchen or living room, so you sigh and set down the bag of food on the counter.

“Namjoon?” you call again, slipping your bag off your shoulder and hanging it on the peg he’s assigned you.

“I’m in here!” he calls from the bedroom-turned-home-studio, and you sigh and swipe the extra-large chai latte he requested from the kitchen and make your way over.

“Fuck!” you exclaim, freezing in the doorway at the sight of him standing shirtless in front of his closet. Your mouth falls open in shock, and you gape at him stupidly for a few seconds, trying and failing not to stare at his abs or perfectly toned arms.

“What do you think you’re doing, Y/N?” he exclaims, his voice an octave higher than normal as he pulls the shirt he’s holding closer to his chest, as though to protect his dignity.

The question finally forces you from your shocked state, and your hand automatically snaps up to cover your now-shut eyes with a painful whack. “Ouch!” you complain, rubbing your forehead as you shove his drink in front of you blindly. “When you called I thought you meant you wanted me to bring this to you!” you explain in a rush, feeling your cheeks burn.

Against your will your knees lock together awkwardly, as though it will help alleviate the sudden pool of tension in your lower belly. It’s been a while since you’ve had sex, granted, but holy sex-cuts, seeing a man’s body shouldn’t have this effect on you, let alone his. He’s your boss, you berate yourself furiously. What if he fires you for this?

You hear the rustle of fabric, and sense him walking across the carpeted floor in socked feet closer to you. He takes the drink from you, his fingers grazing yours ever-so-slightly. “I’m decent now,” he informs you, having seemingly recovered from his initial surprise, and you drop your hand but keep your eyes on the floor.

“Sorry,” you mumble before you turn around and march out of the doorway and back to the kitchen, where you place his breakfast burrito on a plate and set it on the counter with his usual condiments. He isn’t far behind you, sipping his drink, looking completely unflustered. If anything, he now looks mildly entertained by your reaction.

“I have those mood boards you wanted me to print,” you tell him as he takes a seat on the barstool across from you.

He nods. “Could you set them up in the living room? I want to see them laid out by concept.”

You mumble an affirmative and head into the adjoining room, glad for the slight reprieve from his presence, if only to collect yourself and will your cheeks to stop burning. You set up the boards as he requested, all possible pegs for his album. He finishes his breakfast quickly and joins you, studying them intently.

“What do you think?” he suddenly asks, making you startle. It’s the first time he’s ever asked you for your opinion, and you blink at him slowly, wondering how, after a very long month, he still manages to surprise you.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering how honestly you should answer him before deciding fuck it, the worst he can do is dismiss your opinion, seeing as how you just survived seeing him shirtless and managed to keep your job.

“Well,” you begin tentatively, and point to the first set of pegs. “This one clearly thrives on a lot of old-school hiphop references, but is it really relevant now? I mean, most of the people who listen to your music probably aren’t even old enough to know what you’re referencing, or that it’s meant to be an homage,”

You glance at him, but he’s just nodding, a hand in the pocket of his jeans as he presses the edge of his paper coffee cup to his mouth. “Go on,” he hums.

You turn to the second set and shake your head. “This one is the complete opposite, like someone took a grade schooler’s idea of the year 2000 and wrapped it in tin foil. And I don’t mean in a cool, TLC circa No Scrubs kind of way,”

“Too much Sisqo, not enough Tupac?” he jokes, and it surprises a genuine laugh from you.

“I don’t think anyone but him can rock the metallic silver lipstick, no offense,” you return, and he chuckles.

“And the last one?” he prompts.

“It’s pretty,” you say, after a few moments.

“Pretty?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow.

You grimace. “Yeah, but that’s all it is. It’s missing something, an edge. Something that makes it more than just aesthetically pleasing.” Your eyes dart back to him, all black fabric and lean lines in the soft morning sun filtering in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. “What are you planning to call your album, anyway?”

He returns your gaze, and you straighten your posture at the scrutinizing look in his eyes. “Rap Monster,” he finally answers.

“Rap Monster?” you repeat.

“Yeah, you know, because I am a rap monster. My old StormSound handle used to be ‘rapmon’,” he explains.

Your brain spasms, unable to come up with a reply to that. Instead you say, “Then what these concepts is missing is grit. None of them have that feral, street-smart quality that your verses have.”

“You’ve listened to my songs?”

You shrug, crossing your arms in front of your chest protectively because something about the question suddenly seems too personal. “Just your informal online releases, not a lot of what you’ve been working on for the debut,” you admit. Unable to stop yourself, you add, “I’m more than just a pretty face, you know,” in what you hope is a joking manner, remembering what he told Yoongi and Director Bang the first time you met.

All he says is “hmm,” and you try to brush off your annoyance at his nonchalance.

“So what you’re saying is it should be gritty,” he confirms.

“I’m suggesting,” you say carefully, “that it should be an honest visual representation of the music. All the best hiphop albums have been about things that are real—sex, love, politics, struggle and strife. None of these-” you gesture at the boards. “-reflect any of those things. They don’t reflect your music, and they don’t reflect who you are.”

“Who I am?” he repeats.

“When you started out, how did you imagine yourself as an artist?” you ask him.

He chuckles at that, and runs a hand through his hair, turning away from you. You try not to stare at his throat as he takes another sip of his drink, mulling over the question.

“To be honest, I’ve been dreaming about making it big since I was 9 years old. I imagined myself walking everywhere with a giant spotlight on me, finally standing out of the crowd. Special, you know? Worthy.” He says the last part in a low voice; so low that you can barely hear him, as if he expects you to make fun of him.

Surprising yourself, you don’t make a comment about it being vain. His words are so sincere and the expression on his face is so painfully fucking human that it makes your chest contract.

“Then the album art should be exactly that,” you nod.

He lets out a bark of sudden laughter and turns abruptly back to face you, his eyes widening at the resolute expression on your face. His surprise at your words doesn’t last long, because he quickly schools his features into a neutral expression and takes a long sip of his drink. “I’ll think about it,” he finally says. “Make sure the samples I asked for are loaded onto the blue hard drive at Studio C. I’ll be in at 11.”

Recognizing the dismissal, you nod and make your way to the front door, retrieving your bag as you go. You’re halfway out when he calls out to you again.

“And Y/N?”

“Yes, Namjoon?” you respond, turning around, your hand on the knob, ready to leave.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, but even though his expression looks indifferent, the corners of his eyes are crinkled up, and you know that he’s smiling inside.

Your limbs go numb at the sight, and all you can do is nod.

You let out a long breath when you finally find yourself alone in the elevator, a stupid smile on your face and feeling, surprisingly enough, like your first actual conversation wasn’t a complete disaster.

The camaraderie between you and Namjoon, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. Within a few days he’s back to being an actual, real-life monster instead of a rapping one; berating you for imaginary infractions and acting disappointed with every decision you make. Your reserve of patience is quickly running dry, and even though you hate bitching about things, you find yourself ranting to Yoongi more and more often.

Even though he just shakes his head at you and ignores you for the most part, you feel better for having gotten it off your chest. You also find yourself sneaking into the dance studios more and more often, finding that the only healthy way you can vent out your frustration is through dance.

Saltwater is the cure for everything, you think, remembering one of your favorite quotes. Sweat, tears, and the sea.

Sadly, a visit to the beach was unimaginable on your schedule, and the only tears you want to see are of Namjoon’s suffering, so you start to dance harder and harder, pushing your body to do things you’ve been afraid to try since the doctors declared you physically fit again.

The only bright side to the situation is that thanks to the income that being Namjoon’s babysitter affords you, you’re finally able to pay off your loan from your parents and are even able to take classes again. And because you’re always looking for ways to work off stress, you find yourself writing and making more music than before.

On the day that you do your weekly groceries and can afford food healthier than instant noodles, you feel so overwhelmed you want to cry.

It’s the first time in years that you finally feel like your life is back on track.

To Be Continued

#BTS #BTS fanfiction #BTS imagine #namjoon #rapmon #rapmonster

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