#the reality is breaking under my fingers every day is worse than previous too fast i cant even feel it anymore

[reality--breaker]

eepy yawn >,O

[nanasparadise]

“Imprisonment” Yan!Jolyne x female reader

This blog was in dire need of some wlw content. In that sense, I hope you had a happy pride month and enjoy this piece! 

Summary: You are the target of many inmates in Green Dolphin. That changes when Jolyne becomes your cellmate, for the better or worse. 

TW: toxic relationship, prison, bullying, violence, insults, threats, slight gore (ear mutilation), noncon kiss, allusions to NSFW, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

Word count: 2853

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life. 

„Get your ass moving, girl!”

You truly hated it here. A day spent at Green Dolphin felt like being ten years in hell. The queue in the prison cafeteria moved forward quickly, since everyone got the same horrible food. As you hadn’t reacted fast enough, you’d received rude comments. At this point, you didn’t care about the insults anymore. You were used to them, you had no affiliation with anyone here, meaning the other inmates saw you as fair game. In addition to your nature as a pushover, you weren’t surprised to be the target of many prisoner’s sadistic streak.

You took your tray containing your lunch – a portion of rather questionable meat and some mashed potatoes – and went to your solitary table. A blissful sigh escaped your lips when you finally were alone in your corner. No, worse than any insults or solitude were the threats, hidden under fake smiles. Not a single day went without them. You always were forced to do ‘voluntary tasks’ for the designated mean girls of Green Dolphin or ‘lend’ them money. It was humiliating, really, but you didn’t want to end up beaten to death in your cell, so you followed their instructions.

Once you completed the laundry task, you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon in the library, hoping to find an interesting enough book to teleport you away for a couple hours from your harsh reality. You settled into the couch with a novel in your hands, enjoying this slight moment of calmness. Your peace was short-lived though as a blonde woman approached you, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. Oh no, you knew where this would go.

“Hi! How are you doing today?”, she greeted you with a fake happiness swinging in her tone.

“Fine”, you mumbled quietly, not being able to assert yourself.

“I’m glad to hear that!,” she replied, though you knew she didn’t give a shit about your well-being, “Look, I’m so sorry to bother you again, but could you give me ten dollars? I need them for something very important and you’ll get them back in no time!” She batted her eyelashes at you, seemingly coming across as innocent.

“I would, but I forgot the money in my cell”, you countered, trying to come up with an excuse.

“Then stand up and get it.” Her voice had already shifted into a menacing tone, eyes gleaming like a predator.

“I don’t know if I-“

“Y/N, that was your name, right? Well, if you don’t get me my money, our friendship will be ruined and you’re aware of the consequences of that, aren’t you?”, your fellow inmate replied while pulling you by the collar of your uniform up from the couch.

“Right…,” you whispered, accepting your defeat, “I’ll get it for you.”

“Awesome!,” the blonde chirped, all sunshine and rainbows again, “I’ll wait for you here,  just don’t take too long.”

That was how your life went. You didn’t complain too much, you knew it could be way worse than that. And it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice to change it anyway. You weren’t going to be released from prison in the next twenty five years. “So just accept it and move on, day by day”, you mused, repeating that thought every day.

Your life took a turn, however, when a new inmate joined Green Dolphin. She was a young woman around your age, dark buns adorning her head and a green fringe framing her face. You had been spared from a cellmate, but that all changed now, as she was your new roomie. “Great,” you thought bitterly, “now my last bit of peace has been stolen from me.”

She introduced herself as Jolyne Kujo. Jolyne seemed to be still quite naïve when it came to prison life, claiming she’d been conned and that her lawyer would certainly take her out from there. “It’s time to face the fact that no one cares if you’re here for a valid reason or not, trust me, I know it from experience”, you thought, though you didn’t dare voice that to her.

She actually turned out to be nice. And with that, you meant that she respected your private space and didn’t threaten you. In exchange, you offered her some advice on who to avoid in jail, which the woman gladly accepted.

At first, the change was barely noticeable. Jolyne kept herself quiet except for the occasional small talk in your cell or during a shared task. Instead, she chose to lounge around two other inmates you hardly knew, one with dark braids and the other with a weird-looking green cap. You were glad to see that at least she formed a group, being able to protect herself now better from potential harassers if needed.

Of course you were still exposed to them. You made your way to the shower as a woman with broad muscles approached you, face turned into a dark grimace. By her build and expression, you’d first assumed she was a guard until you’d noticed the familiar uniform.

“You there!”, she shouted at you, a finger pointing menacingly at you as she came closer, “Give me your money, now!”

You cowered back into the corner of the shower room, panic flooding your system. “I’m sorry,” you stuttered, “I don’t have anything on me, I can give it to you after-“

“Don’t fucking play with me, bitch”, she brutely interjected, nostrils flaring up angrily due to exhaling. Your aggressor stood now in front of you, a strong hand wrapping itself around your throat and threatening to cut off your airflow. She yanked you up in the air as she continued her assault. “You think you can pick and choose? Does this place look like fucking Disneyland to you? You better give me my money now if you don’t wanna end up choking water and being beaten up like the dirty street mutt you are.” You were already flinching when the prisoner raised her fist to punch your face as a voice suddenly interrupted you.

“I think that’s enough”, Jolyne said in a firm tone, a fierce expression marking her face.

“And who the hell are you? Wanna join your little friend here?”, your tormentor commented, unimpressed by your cellmate’s entrance.

“Big words for someone who’ll soon be nothing but a bloody pulp”, Jolyne answered, not faltering under the inmate’s glare.

Your harasser proceeded to laugh out loud at her words, obviously not taking her seriously. She dropped you unceremoniously as she shifted all her attention to your saviour instead. Desperately, you panted for air, your hands moving to your hurting throat. You remained in your corner as you observed the scene unfolding in front of you.

“As if you weakling could do anything against me,” your tantaliser spit out, still chuckling at Jolyne’s words, “I’d kill you with my pinky finger.”

Jolyne remained strangely calm, choosing to smile at the threat. “We’ll see about that”, was the only thing she uttered before she lunged at her with incredible speed.  Clearly, you weren’t the only one surprised as the inmate’s eyes widened as well. Jolyne turned the bully’s bewilderment into her advantage, her fist immediately connecting with the inmate’s nose. The latter let out a shrill scream, blood dripping out of her nostril. Clearly, she didn’t expect your roommate to do any real damage, let alone break her nose.

Jolyne shook the hand she punched her with, her knuckles reddened and slightly torn open from the assault. You kept staring at both of them, petrified and unsure about what to do now. 

“I’ll kill you for that, you bitch,” your aggressor barked out angrily, “and your little friend will pay, too.”

You started trembling at the thought of her hand around your neck again. 

“I’ll look for a guard, Jolyne”, you eventually said, the fear barely hidden in your voice. You decided this was enough and someone had to put an end to this. 

“Stay here”, your cellmate replied authoritatively. For the first time, you were actually scared of her. “I’ll teach this woman that she needs to face consequences for her actions.”

With these words, Jolyne placed her fingers on your tormentor’s right ear. You wondered what she’d do next when a sudden yell disrupted your thoughts. The inmate’s cry was far worse than the previous one, emitting all of her pain and agony. You could hardly listen to it. 

Then, with great horror, you finally noticed it. Her ear shell laid on the floor, blood coating the cut off organ. Your gaze travelled to Jolyne, waiting for an explanation to your unvoiced question, though she kept her eyes fixated on the prisoner’s pain-ridden face. 

“You won’t touch Y/N or me ever again, did I make myself clear?”, she asked, her voice coated with barely concealed anger. Your bully only gave out a whimper, but the answer seemed to satisfy Jolyne. “Good. Now, if you see any guards, you keep our names out of your mouth, unless you want to lose another body part.”

The following weeks, Jolyne had become overly protective. She clung to you like a lost child, afraid that you’d be hurt or threatened again without her presence. You didn’t know if you should be grateful or terrified for her protection. 

You’d asked her how she’d been able to cut that one prisoner’s ear off, but her explanation had been more confusing than enlightening. She’d talked about a Stand ability and how only so-called Stand users could see and wield it, but nothing made sense to you. You started to believe she’d just lost her mind. 

Jolyne had also introduced you to her friend group. Ermes and Foo Fighters seemed nice enough, though they behaved in the same weird manner as your cellmate did. You felt awkward in their presence, not knowing why you were even there in the first place. 

In the end, you decided to be thankful. With Jolyne and her friends by your side, no one bullied you anymore. And if your peace meant to spend some time with your cellmate, that was a small price to pay, right? 

~

You didn’t notice the pair of chartreuse eyes observing every bit of your sleeping form. You never did. 

Jolyne had been looking at you for many nights. This time, it wasn’t an exception. She tentatively brushed her hand over your cheek, marvelling at your slight reaction as you furrowed your brows at the touch. 

“You’re really cute Y/N, do you know that?”, she whispered to you. Of course you were unable to answer. 

Jolyne had been unusually shy around you. She was well aware of the fact that after her act of violence, you felt uncomfortable around her, possibly even scared. She tried so so hard to make you see that she was only protecting you! In fact, the young woman wondered how you could have even survived in Green Dolphin before her arrival. 

She had a hard time picturing your life without her in it. At first, she’d been furious and crushed at the revelation that her ex-boyfriend had purposefully framed her for a crime she hadn’t committed. She had loved Romeo, so naturally, her heart had been broken. 

But then, you entered her life. She saw now why she needed to be here. Who else could protect you, love you, like Jolyne? You were everything she had ever wanted. 

Lovingly, she placed a small kiss on your cheek. You stirred slightly from the feathery peck. Nevertheless, you continued your slumber. Jolyne wished she could touch you more deliberately, more intensely. She’d grown tired of this little hiding game. The prisoner didn’t want to secretly let your brush run through her hair anymore, imagining it were your fingers instead or coo at you when you were sleeping. No, she wanted to feel you, to be touched and loved by you. 

Sure, you might feel uncomfortable around her, but that was only because you didn’t see how much she cherished you. Maybe it was time to be bolder around you. 

~ 

“Hey Y/N, could you give me my toothbrush, please?”

“Sure”, you replied casually as you handed the desired object over to her. 

“Thanks, you truly are the sweetest.”

Your face heated up at her flirtatious tone. “She definitely didn’t mean it in that way”, you thought to calm your nerves. 

“You still don’t want to join me showering? I’d hate for you to get attacked again”, your cellmate asked you, concern swinging in her voice. 

“I’m good,” you mumbled, “I’ll just go next morning. And I doubt anyone’s gonna threaten me again after your lesson.” The thought of Jolyne mutilating another inmate terrified you, no matter how much your former aggressor deserved it. 

“Come on, you’re just afraid to see me naked,” Jolyne teased while giving you a toothy grin, “it’s alright, you can tell me. I don’t mind.” 

You didn’t think you could get more flustered. “That’s not it!”, you countered hastily, “I mean not that you're not a beautiful woman or anything, it’s just that…”

Jolyne stopped listening and straightened her back. You thought she was beautiful? Was this finally the moment she’d been waiting for? A dreamy expression marked her bright eyes. 

“You think we could be a thing?”, Jolyne interjected your rambling.

“What?!”, you stuttered, unsure if you heard her correctly. 

“I mean, I do really like you.” Suddenly, she stood up from her bed and moved over to you. You stared at her big-eyed, still not knowing what was going on. A hand came resting on your cheek as her gaze was locked on you. “Who am I kidding? I’m totally in love with you.” She softly traced her fingers over your skin, sending a chill down your spine. 

“Jolyne”, you whispered quietly. You had no clue how to handle the situation, images of her brutal side flashing up in your mind again. You gulped harshly. “I didn’t know you felt this way, I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” the young woman retorted, “we could just be more, you know?” Jolyne leaned into you, closing the space between you, as her lips landed on yours. She kissed you with gentleness and care, as if you were made of glass. When you felt her teeth slightly tugging at your bottom lip, begging for more, you eventually snapped out of your surprise and pushed her away from you. 

“What was that?”, you asked her out of breath, unable to conceal your anger. 

“I’ve kissed you, silly.”

“I’ve just told you that I’m not interested in a relationship!”

Ah yes. That must have been when Jolyne had blended you out in favour of marvelling at your compliment. 

“I think you should think about that again”, your cellmate replied, a dark edge manifesting in her voice. 

“And why is that? Do you want to cut my ear off too?”, you asked, your iritateness making you feel reckless. 

Jolyne huffed at your comment. She did that for you! 

“At least you could be grateful for what I did,” she spit out, “but no, I’d never hurt you. I can’t guarantee the same thing about the other inmates though.”

You immediately caught onto the threat. Your anger easily transformed into fear again as you realised what impact your words had on the woman in front of you. When Jolyne noticed you wouldn’t counter, she put her hand on your body again, this time deciding to let it travel up and down your arm. 

“If you keep saying mean things to me,” she said, her voice still sounding menacing despite her gentle hand movement, “I might just not talk to you anymore. Once the others see that we’re not hanging out anymore, they’ll just change their mind and choose you as their target again. And what do you do without my protection? You don’t want to be their punching bag again, do you, hm?” 

“No”, you managed to utter silently, eyes cast onto the floor. 

“Look sweetheart, I can make an exception for today. I’ll forget your behaviour and you reciprocate, right? Unless you want to go back to your initial position.”

“No!”, you answered a bit too fast, your eyes looking at her face again. You could only imagine what the inmate with the mutilated ear would do to you… “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Jolyne took hold of chin, ensuring that your eyes were still trained at her. Then, she kissed you again. Despite your feelings, you gave in, much to her pleasure. When she eventually removed her lips from yours, she shot you another love-struck gaze. 

You knew your life in Green Dolphin had been shitty before Jolyne, but now you only felt what it meant to be truly imprisoned. 

“I’m glad to hear that, honey,” the young woman said with a bedazzling smile on her face, “I’d suggest we finally take a shower, after all I can’t wait to see everything of my darling.” 

Her grin gained a sinister note. 

“And we’ll see how the night goes after that.”

[redsbrainrot]

Gruvia Week - Discovery

This is my first time positing on here lol - go easy on me please

Warning: minor smutty themes

_ _ _

"Juvia, you feeling alright?" 

Juvia, sat on a bench in the guildhall next to Levy and Gajeel, continued to rock back and forth in her seat with her arms clenched around her stomach. In Levy's lap was placed one of the twins in her hold, giddy and babbling while the one Gajeel was cradled into his shoulder and fast asleep. Therefore their conversation had to remain quiet or the six month old baby would awake screaming. 

"Juvia's okay," She mumbles, "I think I just ate something weird." 

Levy and Gajeel glance at each other, "Do you feel sick?" Levy asks. 

She nods, "A little." 

"Weren't you feeling crappy yesterday?" Gajeel adds. 

"A bit." Juvia would bend her truths to save her friends from worrying too much. 

For the past four days, Juvia had been experiencing mild nausea. Every day it appeared to be more frequent, this day being the worse. 

"Come on," Levy stands up and carefully hands over the twin she had to Gajeel, "I'll take you home."

Levy walks Juvia down the sunsetting street to the apartment Juvia shared with her boyfriend, who was currently out on a long lasting job, leaving Juvia with a feeling of absence in her apartment, and peacefully waiting for him to return in a months time. 

Juvia frantically gets out her keys to unlock the door, a sensation of rush bursting through her veins. As soon as she enters, her direction is in a locked path directly towards the sink as it was the closest thing for her to unleash half digested food from her stomach. 

Levy quickly grabs a chunk of Juvia's wavy blue locks to save them from being stuck together by portions of puke while her hand eases her by rubbing circular patterns on Juvia's back. After Juvia retracts her position from over the sink, she sinks to the ground, exhausted and somewhat hungry again. 

"Juvia, how long have you been feeling like this?" Levy questions, dropping next to her. 

"A few days." 

"Are you sure it's something you ate?" 

Juvia's eyes widen a little, peering up towards Levy's face. She hadn't exactly thought what it could be. Truthfully, she was denying what it most definitely was. Juvia's an intelligent woman, and can tell the difference between an illness and... the other topic. 

Juvia begins to twiddle her thumbs in nervousness as her nose buries into the skirt of her dress on top of her knees, "Juvia's not exactly sure..." She confesses. 

Levy's next query would for sure strike something, "Is your period late?"

That one didn't actually enter Juvia's mind. She mutters a sequence of dates and numbers to herself, counting on her fingers in concentration. "Shit!" Juvia cursed on rare occasions. 

"Is that a yes?" 

Eyes wider than ever, she nods. "Two weeks late!" 

Levy knew all these symptoms. Juvia had been oversleeping and coming to the guild at later times in the day, the nausea, the missed periods... It wasn't hard to calculate. She pushes herself from the floor and taking Juvia's hand with her, taking her towards the bedroom and implying her to sit on the bed, as this will be pretty heart stopping. 

She takes her hands into hold, and kneeling in front of the puzzled blunette, her voice gentle and calm, in attempt to keep things light hearted, "Juvia, I think you're pregnant." 

Her eyes slant to the side, taking in the life changing information that may be a high possibility. "No..." She says under her breath, "Gray-sama and Juvia aren't even married yet... not even engaged." Juvia likes to keep traditions in mind.

"Doesn't mean it's not a possibility. All the evidence is right in front of you, you can't possibly deny it. Plus you've always dreamed of having kids with Gray. This can be a good thing if you want it to be. If not, that's totally fine too." 

Juvia and Gray hadn't discussed kids more than once. At least alone together and not in a teasing situation surrounded by their guild-mates. 

"Have you got any pregnancy tests here?" 

Juvia shakes her head in reply. 

"I'll go out and get you one." She breaks the contact, exchanging a smile with her as she heads out the door. 

Juvia falls into her bed, glaring at the ceiling as she processes the situation. The chances of it being true were actually quite high. The two of them were very sexually active, yet also taking precautions. Most of the time. Once or twice, Gray may have relied on the withdrawal method. A few weeks before Gray left for his job along with Natsu, Lucy and Erza, the two of them went out to stargaze. Mere touches were grazed on each others skin. Those touches becoming more lewd, lewd gestures forming into kisses, and eventually, the kisses leading to sex under the midnight sky. 

Juvia's hands slap to her face in utter embarrassment, and stupidity flowing through her mind. No contraception which was one hundred percent effective existed, and they increased the chances of conceiving by using the worst method possible. 

Juvia unconditionally loves her Gray-sama, and even though it took some time, the feeling was completely mutual. However, Juvia had planned out her life with Gray. First moving in together, which had already been achieved. Second, waiting for the day he proposes (she doesn't have the guts to do it herself). Third, the day the two lovebirds finally get married. Last but not least, babies. 

Juvia had strong mother instincts, she was born to be a mother. What made her dream bigger about it was the fact Gray would one day be a father to them. 

Ten to fifteen minutes later, Levy returns with a plastic bag. Containing some comfort food and of course a pregnancy test. 

Juvia hesitantly takes the test, and heads inside the bathroom. 

She follows the instructions while her heart beats worryingly fast. In fear of the answer, she slaps the test into Levy's hand while they wait a few minutes for the result, not wanting to see for herself. 

"Juv..." Levy calls after a few minutes. 

Juvia peaks up from her slouch as she sat on the end of the bed, her teeth grinding with anticipation. 

"It's positive." 

Juvia had trouble believing it. She was actually pregnant? Even though she was going to beat herself up for not being more careful, a hint of joy sprung out of nowhere. Hormones, perhaps?

A brief smile emerges on Juvia's round, porcelain face, while her eyes are screaming. She's actually, after all these years, going to have a baby with the man she's wanted to the most. Just a little bit earlier than she had originally planned.

Gray doesn't return for another month. After this, she wouldn't be able to bare another moment with him not knowing. 

"When does Gray get back?" 

"Just over a month... I don't know what I want to do..." 

_ _ _

On the couch, dressed in her boyfriend's shirt and a pair of shorts, Juvia sat in peace and comfort while skimming the pages of one of her favourite books to pass time. Gray's arrival was due that day. Juvia had a burst of anticipation to see her boyfriend after so long, but coated with fear in addition. 

Juvia slams her book as she catches the sound of keys turning the locks. After discovering she's pregnant with her Gray-sama's baby, she'd spent the previous month reading pregnancy books, making space for the baby in the spare bedroom, which was previously used as a storage room which would grow like mould. For the majority, she'd be sleeping and having naps three times a day, and throwing up anything that'd enter her body. Her cravings were wild, her tongue rejected almost all of her favourite foods, including her most adored Gray buns. 

Juvia'a smile lightens Gray's life up as he opens the door. His jacket is immediately stripped without a thought and his arms around her body, first pulling her closer to him and their lips briefly locking for a sweet moment. Juvia's hands crawl up to his neck, she retracts her lips for a second and tugs him back for an even deeper, more tender one. 

"Fuck," Gray curses in a breath, "I've missed these lips," He kisses her once more, "I've missed you." 

He makes her squeak as he grabs her thighs. Juvia loops her legs around his waist as an immediate reaction, giggling and melting into the strong, hungry kisses. Gray's tongue surprises her as he licks her bottom lip, needing to meet with hers. By how he was moving towards the bedroom, tugging his teeth at her lip and occasionally licking, his crotch pressed right against hers, she knew what he wanted and was aware he wanted it now. 

"Gray..." She pants, breaking the kiss. 

Gray ignores her, assuming her words are more of a moan and slips his tongue inside her mouth. She allows his tongue to take control of her mouth, being distracted by his taste and moving into a moment of bliss. Then reality slaps her in the face as her back hits a door. 

"Gray, I need to talk to you." Worried and out of breath, her usual third person switches to first. 

Gray's lips halt their work, his eyes opening and hands becoming looser, dropping her to the ground delicately. 

"Are you okay?" His fingers brush through her bangs, tracing to the side of her porcelain face. 

She nods, retaining a smile and she takes his hand, turning around and opening the door to their bedroom. She takes them to a bed, this time for conversational purposes, not making hot, sweet love. 

Holding his hand, her eyes flutter close, mouth intaking a deep breath, releasing a sigh a second after. "Remember that time, you and Juvia were out in the fields outside of town, stargazing?" 

Gray's smirk startles her, "Oh yeah, I remember that night." He recalls the sex immediately. 

"You also remember making love then?" She urges the memory, and a possible yearning sensation in Gray's boxers. 

"Yes?" He took note something was wrong rather quickly. 

"And how you had to pull out since Juvia wasn't on the pill that week, and we didn't have a condom?" 

He nods, eyes narrowing. 

"Well," She chokes on her words, unable to confess immediately, "you may have pulled out a moment too late..."

She pressures herself inside her own head "Spit it out, Juvia!". She'd had the perfect pep talk from Levy, and was convinced she'd have no trouble revealing her pregnancy. 

Luckily, words didn't have to be used. A more convenient way was also possible for her. 

Juvia lifts up her sweater, having a tighter t-shirt underneath. She holds the top of Gray's hand, and guides it to her stomach, having him feel her bump, confessing her pregnancy in a nonverbal way. 

Gray's eyes break from hers, darting to her stomach and widening, his reaction unreadable from Juvia's perspective. 

Juvia's concern over his reaction rises, as he wasn't uttering a sound. About to panic, scream of how she had the worst feeling in the world she knew he'd be against it, Gray's free hand holds the other side of her small bump. The anxiety in his eyes had faded, and gazing with awe in replacement. 

"Gray-sama?" Juvia says, after many silent moments of listening to each others breaths. 

"There's actually... a baby us in there?"

Having him say "a baby us" melted Juvia's heart. Out of all the possible ways Gray could've responded it, that she was not expecting. "Yes. What do you think?" 

He doesn't respond straight away, continuing to gaze at her bump, his hands trailing over it and lightly caressing. He catches Juvia off guard when his lips swiftly kiss hers. He places excited, soft, joyful kisses from her lips, to the corner of her mouth, cheeks and forehead. Juvia's unable to contain a smile, giggling into the final heartfelt, impassioned kiss. Her arm loops around his neck, deepening their kiss, while his hand is at the back of her neck and one staying on her bump. 

"Gray-sama is happy?" Her eyes widen with joy.

"Yes!" He exclaims while kissing her once more. 

She pulls away, out of breath with a hyper voice, "Gray-sama wants to have a baby with Juvia?" 

He pushes himself further back, regaining some control, taking her hands into his, "Well... Yeah. We've been together for two years. I know we both thought marriage would come first - I'll be honest, having a baby right now will be scary as we weren't trying for one and it's just happened. I know I don't bring up the thought of us having a child together often, as it's more of a you thing..." He pauses, nervously taking a bite at his lip, "But I knew we'd end up having one eventually. If you're happy with one now, so am I." 

Juvia's face had blushed immensely red throughout his words. There's no way in hell Gray would confess that in front of the entire guild. Having him say it to her face, while holding her hands, was just enough for her. 

_ _ _

Two days had passed. Gray and Juvia spent the weekend together, discussing their excitement over the baby, and mainly catching up on the past two months apart. 

First night back, Gray's sleep was muddled and would wake up at least three times during the night. His emotions were complicated to explain, but he could sum them up and admit his happiness. The news may have not fully kicked in, and he was shocked of how Juvia seemed to be able to relax, sit peacefully on a couch and read books. Yet again, she had just spent a month by herself well aware of what was growing inside her. 

The two agreed they'd wait a few weeks before fully announcing it to the guild, plus Gray's shyness. However, an infamous dragon slayer had other plans. 

Juvia was clothed in baggier clothes than normal, concealing her bump as her tighter dresses were incapable of that. Gray, Natsu and Lucy were sat at a table in the centre of the guild. Natsu throwing unintentional flirtatious comments at Lucy, and would receive relatively harsh slaps in the bicep in return. 

"Hi everyone." Juvia sweetly announces herself as she slides beside Gray, discretely grasping his fingers as she's sat down. 

"Hey, Juvia." Natsu grins, which soon disappears as his nose begins to twitch. 

"Something wrong?" Gray questions. 

He nods, his sniffing becoming more obvious, "Can you smell that?" 

"I can't." Gray shrugged, raising an eyebrow at Juvia. 

"We don't have the nose of a beast like you," Lucy giggles, "What is it?" 

Natsu leans forward, following his scent with his sight in attempt to locate it, which his glare ends on Juvia. "It's you!" 

She jumps at his forwardness, gripping Gray's hand firmer. "Huh?" 

"There's something different about you... new perfume?" She shakes her head in response, "It may be the dress, never seen you in something so loose." 

"Watch your mouth, pervert." Gray growls as he takes Natsu's innocent comment more crudely. 

"You're calling me a pervert!?" Natsu immediately bites back. 

Lucy slaps her hand to Natsu's shoulder, pushing him back into the seat, "It doesn't take much for you to get riled up, does it?" 

"Seriously though," He flounces out his hands towards Juvia, "Something is different! I can smell it!" Lucy sighs and hushes him as his bellowing was grabbing the rest of the guilds attention. 

Juvia and Gray eye each other in fear. Natsu may not have the IQ of a genius, however his nose is powerful enough to sense any form of change. Lucy quickly takes note of the glance they exchange, figuring out by the scent and the stares, something is certainly up. 

"Wait..." Her eyes narrow in query, "Is something actually different, Juvia?" Her choice of tone more calm than Natsu's, easing the two of them. 

Juvia's eyes slant as her leg bounces in anxiety. Announcing her pregnancy five days earlier than planned would certainly drive Gray crazy. He hasn't mentally prepared himself for the attention and congrats as he's soon to be a father. 

"Well..." 

"Juvia!" Gray objects. 

Juvia releases a frustrated breath, "Gray-sama, there's no harm-" 

"I'm not ready to tell yet!" 

"You're pregnant." 

Juvia and Gray's heated stare breaks as Natsu points a finger at them, shockingly figuring out their secret much quicker than expected. 

Lost for words, the two gape like blank minded sheep. 

"I'm right, right?" 

Gray's opinion on Natsu is still pretty low, even though over the past years it had risen. How on earth did he figure it out in the snap of his fingers!? 

In Juvia's head, it made sense. He wouldn't ask if they were engaged as her scent would remained the same. With the evidence of looser clothes, the scent, secrecy, there's no hiding her pregnancy from him! 

"Yes... Juvia is pregnant." Getting it off her chest to her closest friends, minus Gajeel who already knew, was a relief. Her confession initiated a smile to tug at her delicate lips, watching the two with stars in their eyes as they take in the information, while Gray slams his face into the palms of his hands. 

"You sneaky little fucker!" Natsu's method of congratulations are somewhat unique, "Nice!"

"Oh my god!" Lucy squeals in delight as her hands hyperly applaud, "I'm so happy for you!" 

"Thank you," Juvia caresses her bump under the table, "We weren't planning on one of course. But Juvia thinks she's ready for a baby, and so does Gray-sama." 

Gray pulls himself up from the grave of his hands, admitting a smile to Juvia, taking her hand and placing his lips on her knuckles. He may not express his love for her much in public, but that tiny gesture said it all. 

"Yeah... I am."

_ _ _

[bonjour-rainycity]

Odin’s Ward ~ Chapter 10

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/637890992711843840/odins-ward-chapter-9

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Word count: 2798

Warnings: Violence

Y/n: 18 // Loki: 20 // Thor: 24

Y/n’s POV

Light floods my room and assaults my aching eyes.

“Good morning, My Lady.” Ragna’s high-pitched voice floats from my left, and I roll to see her standing near my bed. Her eyes widen as she takes in my face. She disappears, returning quickly with a cool washcloth.

“To help with the swelling,” she explains as she dabs under my eyes. I nod absently, not ready to focus on the realities of today.

When Ragna is done, she steps back. “My Lady, it is time to ready you for the day.”

I stand, following her mutely to my wardrobe. She puts me in a dress very similar to what I wore yesterday, although this one has sky blue accents as opposed to gold. While she does my hair in an updo typical of Alfheim noblewomen, Ragna tries to make conversation. “I’m sorry you did not sleep well.” Her words are careful, testing the waters and the limits of my politeness, but I hear real concern in her voice. This leads me to answer honestly.

“It’s…” I swallow and try to gather the right words. I must choose them carefully. “Difficult to be moved from what I’ve known for so long.” There. Not too revealing, but hints at why I’m so distraught.

Ragna is silent for a moment, her fingers expertly twisting my hair. “I can empathize, My Lady.”

I raise my eyebrows, grateful for any distraction and hoping she’ll go on. She does.

“When I was a child, barbarians kidnapped me from my village and sold me to the castle. I haven’t seen my family since.” There’s no sadness in her voice, no longing. She’s simply stating the facts.

My eyes staring at her through the mirror reflect the shock I feel. “That must have been very hard.”

“Yes,” she agrees. “Although it truly does get easier with time. Quite quickly, I adjusted to my life here. In all honesty, I probably would have died had I remained in my village. I was the youngest of seven, and my parents couldn’t afford to feed us all. My life in the castle allows me to be clothed, fed, and housed. I have a purpose, and I have friends. It is a better life than I was meant for, surely.”

I suck in a breath, lowering my eyes to my lap out of shame. Here’s a girl who has gone through much worse than I have, and she doesn’t let it break her. How weak I must be. “You speak of this so easily.”

Through the mirror, she smiles kindly, understanding clear in her eyes. “You will too, one day. It will take time, but you will grow to love your husband. You will have children you adore and rule over a realm that adores you.”

Love, I think wistfully. No, I have given all my love away.

A green-eyed man floats to my mind, and I hasten to distract myself. “What do you know of my fiancé?”

Ragna’s eyes sparkle and she launches into a fast-paced telling of everything she knows. I can tell she enjoys gossip, but I can’t find it in myself to be annoyed. After all, this could prove very useful to me.

“His name is Audunn, and he is very wealthy. That’s why your father chose him for you, I’m sure of it. His family is one of the founding families of Alfheim, and he is a pureblood. Not a single member of his family has every married someone not of traceable Alfheim descent, so it upset some people when he announced his engagement to you.” At my expression, she’s quick to reassure. “I mean no offense, of course, but you are Asgardian. Still, the Royal Family is Asgardian, so if Asgard blood is good enough to rule all Nine Realms, why shouldn’t it be good enough to marry?” I want to smile at her carefree conclusions, but don’t have it in me. “Audunn is handsome, but quite a bit older than you. I wouldn’t let that worry you, though. Age equals experience, and experience equals fun.” She tries to bite back a grin, and I can’t help releasing a shocked laugh.

“Sorry, My Lady.” But Ragna’s eyes still sparkle, and I feel my fondness growing for her by the second. She continues. “Anyway, he has no children, thank your lucky fates, but that means he will expect them quickly from you. But no matter. You are young and will surely be with child after your first few years together.”

Agitation rises within me. Children? I don’t think I’m ready for children.

Ragna stuffs a pin into the twist. “Your father is not an old man, and it is likely he will continue to preside over Alfheim for hundreds of years. But once he leaves us for the stars, your husband will rise to the position of Chief Diplomat and you will be extended that status as well. I’m not sure what the people will call you, though….” She furrows her brow as she thinks. “I don’t remember a time when your mother shared your father’s throne. Do you recall her title?”

“Duchess.” The word comes to me easily, though I wasn’t aware I knew this piece of information. “My father is technically a duke in Asgard.”

Ragna smiles at me through the mirror, adjusting a stray braid. “Duchess, then.”

Upon hearing the title directed at me, I gulp.

Finished with my hair, Ragna places an encouraging hand on my shoulder. “You will be wonderful.”

And although I do not feel like it, I smile back.

{***}

I sit on a bench somewhere in the castle grounds, enjoying the sun. Ragna lounges below me on the grass. I had offered her the space next to me, but she emphatically refused, saying it would not be proper for a servant to sit at an equal level with a woman of my status. I had fought the urge to roll my eyes.

A servant I haven’t encountered yet runs up to us. He’s older than I am, and it feels strange to have an elder bow deeply in my direction.

He does not look at me when he speaks. “My Lady, Master requires your presence immediately.”

I raise my eyebrows. Who’s Master?

Ragna jumps up and her eyes beg me to do the same. For her sake, I do, although I am already wary of meeting a man who makes his servant call him Master.

The servant walks a good fifteen paces ahead of us and does not look back. Ragna takes a place behind my left shoulder so she can whisper in my ear as the three of us speed-walk. “That is Sveinn, the manservant of your betrothed.” There’s a something in her voice, something odd, but my own panic at meeting my fiancé keeps me from placing it.

“Audunn? I’m meeting him now?”

“I believe so, My Lady.” Her voice is grave, a clear sign of the importance of this meeting. I straighten my posture. Ragna fusses over my dress as we continue our way up and through the castle.

Finally, and yet all too soon, we stop outside a massive set of doors.

“You are to wait here,” Sveinn instructs Ragna.

I consider protesting, but she has already curtsied to me and taken a step back.

I swallow as Sveinn knocks.

“Enter,” calls a deep, gravely voice. Audunn.

A set of guards opens the doors. I hold my head high, fake all the confidence I do not feel, and enter the chamber.

The man I presume to be my fiancé stands in the center of the dark room, turned away from me, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

Svienn moves to leave the room.

“Stay, Sveinn.”

The servant gulps nervously. “Yes, Master.” There’s that title again. So abrasive.

The silence resumes. I refuse to speak first. Audunn is the one who called me here, after all.

Somewhere nearby, a clock ticks.

“I thought it prudent that we meet, given our current status.”

I bristle at his haughty tone. “How can we meet when we do not look each other in the eye?”

Slowly, he turns to face me.

From across the room, I take him in.

He is of moderate hight and full of textbook Alfheimish features. His ears are longer and narrower than mine, his nose small and graceful. Blonde hair speckled with silver covers both his head and the lower part of his face. Ragna wasn’t kidding. He is much older than me.

He studies me as well. From the glint in his eyes, I can tell he likes what he sees. Gross. He’s dressed extravagantly, covered in an ornate cloak even though he’s indoors. With a hint of glee, I notice that his clothes are darker than mine. As of now, I hold a higher status than him.

That small bit of power gives me more confidence, and I take the necessary steps to meet him in the middle of the room. “Shall we sit and get to know each other?”

His mouth quirks up at one end. “That won’t be necessary. There is no need for you to be here much longer.”

I raise my eyebrows, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

He takes a heavy step in my direction, coldness in his eyes. “What is there to know about you? Soon, we will be wed. You will exist to give me pleasure, status, and heirs. That is all I need to know.”

I feel the fire of fury spread through my body, setting every nerve alight. My fists clench. “How dare you! I am so much more than an empty body existing only for you.” I straighten, doing my best to reel in my anger and return control to the situation. “You will not speak to me like that again.”

Audunn’s features harden and he locks his eyes on mine. “Sveinn, come here.”

Sveinn follows the order, his steps slow and shaky.

“Sveinn,” Audun barks.

The servant yelps and rushes to stand by us.

Audunn’s hand cracks across Sveinn’s face.

A gasp tears from my throat as I surge forward to stop the assault. Sveinn reaches a pleading hand from his position on the ground.

“Please, My Lady, don’t—” his voice is cut off with a sharp intake of air as Audunn strikes him again. “You will only make it worse.”

The poor man’s mouth begins to bleed and he looks at me with begging eyes.

I hesitate.

“That’s right, you listen,” Audunn growls, gripping Sveinn by the hair and forcing his bleeding face in my direction. I shrink back, horror seeping into my bones. “You did this to him.”

Horror turns to anger. “You’re the one beating him! You—” but before my words are finished, Audunn begins anew, striking Sveinn without reservation.

“My Lady, please.” Sveinn’s voice, broken and desperate, is what grounds me.

I try to force myself to de-escalate by focusing on my breathing. As soon as I’m silent, the beating stops.

“There’s a good girl.” Audunn’s voice sickens me. It reminds me of a poison apple—achingly sweet and unbelievably dangerous. “Sveinn,” Audunn throws him on the ground but releases him, choosing to walk a circle around me instead, “is what’s known as a whipping servant. Are you familiar with the concept?”

Heart stuttering, I nod.

“Good. Then you understand that anytime you do something to displease me,” his voice darkens, and he takes a menacing step in my direction, “poor, poor Sveinn gets a beating. Because of you.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to be strong. Do not break.

“If you behave,” Audunn’s voice is back to being sweet and deceptively pleasant, “all will be well. I’m sure that is logic even a woman can follow.”

I exhale in my anger but otherwise hold it in. My body is coiled tight and by the gods, I want to let it spring.

But the look on Sveinn’s bleeding and fearful face keeps me from acting on my impulse.

Audunn stops in front of me, wearing a tight smile. “You are dismissed.”

I do my best not to run from the room.

Once clear of the door, I speed up. Before I know it, I’m running.

I hear light footsteps behind me, indicating Ragna’s pursuit, but I do not slow. I exit the castle and run past the bench where I sat earlier. I pass the apple orchard and the fountains. I run for as long as I can, until my legs give out. I collapse in a pile of sobs and gasping breath, finally breaking. The grass pricks my legs, but I barely notice. The weeping is my main concern, wracking my body and causing my chest to seize.

“Oh, My Lady.” Ragna’s voice is full of concern and distress. Hesitantly, she wraps her arms around me and I grip at her, unable to stop myself from seeking comfort.

“He-he,” I gasp.

“My Lady, I am so sorry. There were rumors but I-I never thought….” Horror colors her voice as she trails off. Instead of speaking, she concentrates on stroking my hair, and the action gradually soothes me.

My heart is in deep distress. It calls for Loki. I want nothing more than to be in his arms. Loki is mischievous and morally ambiguous at best ,but I know he would never do to me what Audunn has. Loki cared for me, loved me, respected me, and protected me. Audunn views me as his personal servant, made to be used.

I shudder.

“Ragna, I—” I sniffle. “I cannot be with that man. I’ll…” But my voice trails off, because I don’t know what I’ll do. I desperately want to end the engagement and leave this realm. I want to return to Asgard and ask them to take me back. I will even beg Odin himself. And I want to run into the safety of Loki’s arms and kiss him and hug him and tell him that I am his. I want him to be mine as well. It’s him I want to marry.

But I know that’s not what will happen. People like me and Loki rarely get what we want, simply due to our status. We exist as pawns, ready to be moved at the will of our fathers. As a man, Loki has more free will than I, but not by much. As a prince, he will be expected to marry an Asgardian noblewoman, just as I am expected to marry Audunn. It is my duty. And I must be strong enough to carry it out.

I sit up, willing myself to find any strength left in my body. “Will you help me get ready for dinner?”

Ragna looks relieved at my gaining composure. “Of course, My Lady.”

{***}

Audunn joins us for dinner. Every time he looks at me, I do my best not to grimace. I may hate this man, but I have no ill will towards Sveinn and desperately do not want to see him hurt. For the majority of the evening, we eat in silence.

As I pick at my dessert, Father speaks. “My council and I have set a date for your marriage ceremony.”

My stomach clenches. Loki’s face flashes in my mind, apathetic and detached. I do my best to mimic his mask in order to hide my fear. “Oh?”

Father grunts. “Three weeks from now.”

But I am not as practiced as Loki. A breath escapes me, and my voice is noticeably stained when I speak. “So soon?”

Audunn puts on a winning smile. “What she means to say, is that she is pleased. Isn’t that right, dear Y/n?”

I swallow down my bile and set him with a hard look. “Yes.”

Father doesn’t seem to notice the tension between us. “Shall I invite anyone in particular from Asgard?”

Yes. “No.”

Father continues, taking a bite of his dessert. “I will, of course, invite the Royal Family, though I highly doubt they will be in attendance. It’s unusual for the entire family to leave Asgard.” A thoughtful look crosses his face. “But perhaps the Allmother will come. She seems the most likely, if any.”

Hope surprises me, and I cling to it. “Yes, I wish she would attend. It would be lovely to see her again. Queen Frigga was always so kind to me.” An unexpected pang of longing hits me, and I realize I had been so focused on missing Loki that I hadn’t noticed I miss his mother as well. Now aware, I ache for her kind words and motherly affections.

Father gives me a small smile. “I will be sure to convey your words in the invitation.”

I nod, thankful. Perhaps if Frigga attends the wedding, I can get though it without screaming.

A/n: Let me know what you thought and if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/638076748499681280/odins-ward-chapter-11

Tag list: @80strashbag @dark-night-sky-99 @what-am-i-doing10 @chxrryycola @ravenclaw5606

[anonthenullifier]

Do you think Tommy and Billy would ever given a tour of Stark Industries? I mean their Dad did technically help run it in a previous life.

Thanks for the ask!  I don’t think this is what you were looking for, but it is the first thing that came to my mind after reading your ask. I do apologize if the characterization is off at all, I don’t usually write from either of the twin’s perspectives but it was the only way to do this story . Hope you enjoy!

“And now we move into what many consider the true heart of the tour,” a peppy smile goes with a peppy wave of her arms and the impressively uniformed pep in the tour guide’s step, “the hall of heroes.”

“Kill me now,” Tommy groans next to him, mood perpetually spiraling downward for the last hour, “please just blink me out of this reality.”

The field trip isn’t that bad. Well, it’s not great, but it could be worse, like the time they went to the wastewater plant and there was a leak. “This is the last room.” It is also, admittedly, the worst room to be in as children of Avengers. Being in a shrine devoted to worshipping your parents and family while surrounded by peers that already view you differently kind of sucks.

“We’re at Stark Industries,” Billy waits for his brother to make some sort of point, shrugging off the aggravation in his voice and inspecting the first generation uniforms of their parents. The plaque has an asterisk that leads the eye down to a note stating all uniforms on display are originals, graciously donated by the heroes except for The Vision’s (Billy frowns at the unneeded The) which is a replica due to the still unexplained power he has to shift molecules.

Tommy begrudgingly joins in staring at the uniforms, “This crap is not what we should be seeing. We’re not fucking tourists.”

“Language.”  

Dad has been trying, and failing miserably, to curb impolite language, so when he is not around, Billy takes joy in turn-coating his allegiance and policing it. “Oh bugger off, traitor.” They both laugh at the loophole they discovered early on. If dad doesn’t realize they’re cussing, then they can do it freely, until mom stares them down, anyway. “I’m serious, I want to see the top secret stuff, not,” he flings his hands out at the post-Thanos uniforms, “this.”

They’ve listened to their grandpa wax poetically about his innovations, sat dumbfounded at the technical questions from both their dad and their other science minded relatives. There is so much more than old Iron Man uniforms and the ten different shields good ole Captain America has used to protect freedom. “Mom and dad are meeting us at the end, we could just ask-“

Tommy recoils at the comment, side-eying him the same way you would a person espousing mind control through frozen corn kernels on the street corner (though that actually ended up partially correct and led to a few months without corn in the house and deep, empty looks on their parents’ faces). “You trying to steal the funkiller crown from dad?” Hands turn Billy toward a small, gray door with a white and red sign stating Authorized Personnel Only. “You know the good stuff is back there.”

“No,” even if they can easily distract the chaperones and slip away from their classmates, it’s not worth it. “In less than a day, I get to go with Teddy on a houseboat.”

Tommy’s unempathetic stare is typical when matters of his relationship come up, “And…?”

“And I’m not risking it.”

Billy moves on to the current day display (all replicas), fingers tapping through the buttons on a screen introducing him to the training rooms and the Stark tech that is changing not just the world but universes too. Unfortunately the twin devil on his shoulder follows. “We won’t get caught.”

“We get caught 91.35% of the time,” a stat so graciously computed by dad three weeks ago when Tommy ran (literally) out and got them Taco Bell for lunch and then proceeded to proudly eat his chalupa in front of the teacher monitoring the lunchroom.

A scoff signals this fight is nowhere near done, “One, even dad admits his computation is flawed,” a margin of error assumed of plus or minus five percent for instances of misconduct that went fully undetected, “and two, that means we have a ten percent shot at success.” This is said as if ten percent is equatable to seventy five.

“Or we don’t and I have a hundred percent shot at a weekend without mom and dad.”

“Traitor.” Tommy shoves him out of the way, taking over control of the interactive display. “Yo display lady.”

A pleasant, lightly accented voice streams from the luminescent screen, “How may I help you?”

“Where are these rooms?”

A three second lag exists between the question and response, “Official training rooms are located at the Avengers compound, while beta-testing and highly complex simulations are housed here at Stark industries.”

Tommy stares at him, assuming this is somehow convincing. “No.”

“How many records are held by Vision?”

More silence and then the screen displays a table of dates and times, “Vision,” no The this time, likely because it was programmed by grandpa, “has eight time trial records across the two facilities.”

Another look from his brother implies this is all they need to know. Billy shakes his head. “And Scarlet Witch?”

The screen dissolves before providing new information. “Scarlet Witch has five records for time and three for amount of damage caused.”

“Go, mom!” Tommy is always more impressed by damage than time, something Steve has issues handling in their own training with the Young Avenger Initiative. “What about as a team?”

It’s to the credit of Tony’s programming that the AI understands the request in relation to the prior two questions. “Scarlet Witch and Vision, as a team, hold ten time records and eight damage records, including a combined record on training course Twenty Three, level of difficulty Wish You Were Never Born that has gone unchallenged for over eleven years.”

“Unchallenged.”

A smarmy confidence rests in Tommy’s eyes and finally the logic of his questioning clicks.  “No way.”

Tommy glares at him before returning to the screen, “Where’s that course?”

“Course Twenty Three is located here at Stark Industries.”

There’s something infuriatingly infectious about his brother’s need to rebel as a means of satisfying his drive to surpass others. It’s so tempting to say yes, but Billy digs his heels in, refusing to go along yet again with one of Tommy’s plans that, though always fun, never have fun consequences and dammit, he wants to spend the weekend with Teddy. “Not a chance.”

Exasperation fills every inch of Tommy’s flail. They move on and the silence is nice, if not a bit unsettling. “Question.”

Billy makes sure his annoyance is firmly on display. “What?”

“Would you rather try and break their record or,” a lightning fast push spins Billy around, “watch Cody manhandle mom?” Mortification gnaws at his resolve, their classmate groping the mannequin from the brief time the Scarlet Witch wore a leotard and tights. It’s when Cody makes direct eye contact with them and starts pantomiming his intentions that Billy’s hands snap shut, blue energy tingling under his skin. “You take him down, guarantee that houseboat is gone.” An arm loops amicably around his shoulder, pivoting him towards the authorized access door. “We go see the good stuff and you have slightly better odds.” Billy is turned back to Cody, who has only grown more vigorous in his lewd gesticulating, “No houseboat,” and then back to the door as if there are only two options, “or a shit ton of fun and possibly a houseboat.”

Billy sighs and Tommy’s mouth tips into a beaming smile. “Fine.” Immediately his mind starts justifying the decision, an 8.65% chance not the worst odds in the world, plus, if they aren’t in the room when the prototype of the next-gen Iron Man happens to fall on Cody, then no one can point at him as the culprit.

Wordlessly they carry out the escape, Billy always taking on the role of distraction through subtle manipulations of perceived reality and Tommy gleefully vibrating his molecules to slip through the wall and open the door. “Let’s go.”

For some reason, he had assumed walking through the door would be like that one movie they watched, with the oompa-loompas, a door opening and a world beyond imagination appearing before them -flying suits, disappearing materials, explosions, scientists in white coats and blue gloves. Instead it’s just a hallway with beige walls and linoleum floors and doors lining the way. “So, what’s the plan?”

A thrilled, unconcerned lift of his brother’s shoulders drops their chances of success at least a percent, “Walk like we own the place and see what we find.” It’s sadly not his worst plan.

And walk they do, Tommy’s chest puffed out and arms swinging in casual authority. Technically, they sort of own some of the place, via dad’s stake in the company, so it’s not like they are being overly deceptive. Each hallway looks the same, making it difficult to track exactly where they are going, until they find another door stating Credentials Required and a face scanner affixed to the wall. Tommy doesn’t even hesitate in shimmying through the wall, so Billy follows, hands parting the space in front of him so he can walk through, closing reality behind him with some hesitation, certain there have to be cameras somewhere tracking them.

That concern is tossed aside because now they find the cinematic reveal, an open hangar in front of them with some sort of alien-esque ship on the ground and four floors of glass doored, luminescent laboratories spanning the reach of their eyes. “The good stuff.” This is far better than replica uniforms. “Let’s go find the simulation.”

“But look at this stuff!”

The self-confidence he had admired earlier also goes hand-in-hand with a tendency for fixation. “Yeah, I see it.”

Billy does his best to keep pace with his twin, who has a habit of speeding up his walk when excited while forgetting other people can’t move nearly as fast. That combined with Billy’s desire to peer into every lab space and marvel at the work, makes their trip stream by incomprehensibly. He thinks he saw a phasing suit, maybe a new particle generator, some sort of extraterrestrial looking staff, a portal to a mountain side, what he thinks might be a baby raptor, and also their grandma, who he usually loves seeing but pulled Tommy out of view before she could spot them. “Do you have any idea where you’re going?”

“Nope.”

“Fantastic.”

“Where are you going?”

The voice is instantly recognizable, one they’ve grown up hearing and it’s a little judgmental and a little bit amused. Tommy swings around and puts on the fakest innocent smile the world has ever seen. “Hey, Grandpa!”

Tony smirks, unconvinced by the tone of the greeting, but he isn’t angry, which is a good start. “How are my favorite rebels doing?”

“Great, on a field trip.” Billy is in awe of people like Tommy and Tony who can act so natural, can just ooze bravado and a sense of entitlement on a whim.

There is a nod and a contemplative droop of his goatee. “Seems you got lost.”

Tommy nods along, “Yeah, been trying to find our classmates, have you seen them?”

Now Tony chuckles, slapping his hands together, giddy at the lie but still showing no signs of annoyance or reprimand. “I have not, but I imagine they can’t phase through walls like you two can.” Billy, personally, wilts at the calling out, while Tommy shrugs again, matching Tony’s stance and attitude. “What do you two want to see?”

“What?” It comes out before Billy can catch it, surprised at the quick approval of their misdeeds.

“I asked what you wanted to see,” Tony stares at them, concerned he has somehow slipped into another language, “There has to be a reason you barged through my walls.” Learning to function in both the superhero world and just being a teenager with parents who have rules you don’t agree with, requires an ability to spot entrapment, certain phrases purposely worded as openings for waltzing right into admonishment. When neither of them take the bait, Tony acts hurt, a shake of his head and a pained, expertly acted, clutched chest. “I thought I was the cool, eccentric grandfather,” a smile threatens to wash away Billy’s anxiety as Tony continues in pantomimed betrayal. “Is it Thor? Would you tell Thor what you want? I mean, I don’t blame you, those gorgeous, puppy dog eyes are a killer.” A snigger from Tommy and all apprehension leaves the atmosphere, Tony’s toothy grin absolving all guilt of their sneaking around. “Seriously, what do you want to see? I’ve got a brand spanking new interdimensional travel lab, some Skrull-based camouflage trials, there’s a spaceship downstairs, Helen has an updated, palm-sized cradle.”

All of it, every last one is what Billy wants to see, but Tommy beats him to the request, “We want to do simulation twenty three, Wish You Were Never Born.”

Understanding dawns on Tony’s face, “Want to show the parental units up, huh?”

“Yep.” Tommy is close to vibrating through the floor.

“It’s really dangerous,” the mood darkens until Tony presents them a masterclass, uncaring shrug they’ve seen numerous times in his press conferences and Senate hearings, “but I’m not your parents and so it is my duty to aid and abet your delinquency.”

An ecstatic arm closes around Billy’s shoulder as they follow their grandpa down four different hallways and three staircases, emerging into a vast, utterly empty warehouse. “You all have suits?” Tommy whips off his sweatshirt to reveal the Stark crafted, green and white suit he always wears under his clothes, yanking his goggles from his back pocket and pulling them down over his face. Since this seems to actually be happening, Billy waves his hands, materializing his own caped suit in place of his jeans and t-shirt. “All right then, let me go upstairs real fast.”

The climb into the observation booth is agonizing under Tommy’s uncontainable excitement, his feet a blur as he warms up, running in place. “Quick disclaimer, boys,” they look up at Stark’s face through the window, “there are numerous things that can seriously maim you in this course, kind of why your parents hold the record, the whole made of vibranium slant your dad’s got going makes him uniquely qualified to handle a lot of this and your mom is terrifying as well, so together, magic.” A seed of doubt sprouts in Billy’s mind, yet it is not given time to be nurtured a, “Anyway, best of luck!” and then the room comes alive around them.

To say the difficulty level name is apt is a bit of an understatement. At any given time there are over a dozen different foes, and for each type of challenge, there are at least a dozen individuals within it. It ranges from laser guns, incendiary robots that look an awful lot like Ultron, replicas of the Black Order, phasing, flame wielding alien things, and Billy’s least favorite right now, microscopic, swarming jellyfish that blister the skin on contact. In amongst the chaos of fighting, he can hear Tommy cycle between “Shit, shit, shit,” “Oh my God!”, “What the fuck is that,” and maniacal glee. Slowly, and painfully, they take down the threats, sometimes combining forces to remove a particularly difficult foe, and sometimes splitting up to decimate the weaker challenges.  

Looming over them is a very large clock, ticking away at their time and next to it, is the record of their parents. Their own clock continues, the numbers growing more similar to the goal and Billy assesses the surroundings, only taser faced bear-like creatures and giant bouncing orbs made of some sort of sticky, burning compound left. “Tommy!” His brother skids into view, mouth in a perennial smile and lungs heaving as he waits for the next strategy. “We have ten seconds, I say we vaporize.”

What seemed impossible is proven wrong, Tommy’s lips curving even higher as he fiddles with his goggles. “You hold them steady.”

“Will do.”

It’s a technique they birthed from their mistakes, the possibilities of their powers unknown and often discovered in embarrassing and unintentional ways. Like vaporizing soccer fields during gym class. Billy winds his powers around the last group of adversaries, wincing at the weight of their resistance as he adds more and more force to his hold. While he does this, Tommy runs a large circle around the bound creatures, legs pumping faster and faster with each lap until even Billy can’t track his position. That’s when it happens, a sonic boom that spreads through the warehouse, shoving Billy to the ground, puffs of smoke making the air murky, and then there is a “Hell yeah!” and the telltale sound of the buzzer their own training uses to signal success.

Tommy collapses on the ground next to Billy, “That was amazing.” All Billy can manage is a nod, lungs and body aching. “Do you think we did it?”

“Though impressive, unfortunately you were 8.65 seconds over.” Disappointing, but not bad. Far more worrisome is the unmistakably even English accent informing them of their failure.

Billy strains to sit up, glancing over his shoulder at the deep scowls of disappointment on his parents’ faces, next to the apologetic wince of Tony. “Fuck.”

“Language, William.” Tommy snorts and is met with a jab of blue to his chest. 

Two strikes in less than three seconds and the houseboat is most definitely floating away, “Sorry, dad.”

“What are you two doing here?” This time it’s their mom, her accent thicker when she’s angry and currently it sounds like she just moved here from Sokovia.

A hand pats Billy’s arm, a reassurance that really isn’t helping. “The field trip was just so boring.” Nor is Tommy’s attempt at defending their choice providing any hope of bringing the boat back. “We just wanted to see stuff.”

The intercom clicks and they are presented with a predictably logical alternative, “You could have asked us after the field trip. You had shown interest in a more detailed tour the other night, hence the reason why your mother and I were meeting you here instead of at home.”

Billy flops his head to stare deep into his twin’s goggled eyes, “I suggested that.”

“Shut up.”

Another click and mom is back on the microphone, “We’ve been speaking with the Altman’s,” any last, clinging hope withers away, “they were really looking forward to having you with them this weekend,” the feeling is mutual, “they suggested a nice compromise.” He waits to learn what this is, worried if he asks it will harm any goodwill left. “They invited all of us along on the trip.” 

Despair is far heavier than the physical toll of the course, and isn’t helped at all by the thumbs up next to him and the out-of-breath, “Yes, I love houseboats!”

[royallyanxious]

Horizons - Chapter 11

Masterpost

word count: 4936

AO3 LINK

Previous Chapter

“So let me get this straight.” laughed Remy.

“You can’t get straight with this story!” Roman shot his finger guns, causing the whole group to burst into laughter again. Virgil delicately squeezed Roman’s knee under the table, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“Okay, okay. So let me clear up the whole thing… Patton didn’t have much luck that day, did he?” started Remy again, glancing at the said man, sitting on his right and giggling cheerfully. “Poor, innocent Patton thought that you two were sitting in the corner, talking while in reality Roman was stradling Virgil’s legs and goodness gracious Patton realized that only when he was way too close to turn away?”

“I had no idea what were they doing!” excused himself Patton. Both Virgil and Roman were blushing fiercely, hearing the story.

“We got a little bit carried away…” mumbled Virgil, stroking Roman’s hand.

“You were about to rip off his shirt!” cried Patton, covering his eyes to demonstrate his reaction.

“I can’t believe you were making out in my peaceful temple of knowledge.” Lo shook her head with a mixture of offence and disappointment.

“I dare to say that it could have been worse!” said Remy, wiping the tears that gathered in his eyes. It had been a while since he had so much to laugh at, but teasing Roman and Virgil was way too adorable and amusing to stop.

Virgil groaned in fake annoyance, but didn't say anything. His cheeks were burning, even though the situation had happened over a week prior. He had seen Roman only a few times since the unexpected confession and one of those meetings was pretty… fiery.

The reveal of their relationship to Lo and Remy was fast and smooth, despite Virgil’s worries. Being raised in a very conservative family, he was afraid of being outed, once again. It didn’t even cross his thoughts to come out to his father, especially with Roman. Though the decision was tough, he decided that he should make sure to never let his father anywhere close Roman. He seriously even considered never meeting that man again, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to look into the face of the man who murdered his love’s parents.

“In fact, you two look pretty adorable together.” hummed Remy after a while, resting his head on the knuckles. “I wish you all the best from the depth of my heart.” he added sweetly.

“Well, thank you. That’s so kind of you.” smiled Roman. “We still have no idea how to make this work, since you know… society is ruthless and people are terribly homophobic here.” Virgil frowned hearing these words. He was aware of the obstacles, but hearing of them still threw a shadow of worry on his heart.

“I’m sure you’re gonna work it out together!” cheered Patton. “And if you ever need me, I will be here. Same goes to Lo!”

“Ah, speaking of this crazy man, Patton? What a bravery!” laughed Roman lightly. The uncomfortable shift on Lo’s chair went unnoticed by almost everyone except of Patton. He sent Lo a reassuring smile, trying to calm her down.

It’s been few weeks since Lo started identifying as genderfluid. They had been talking with Patton about the possibility of coming out to the rest of the group. Patton was convinced that the rest would accept Lo without a blink of an eyes, but she still had doubts (“But Patton! I’ve been feeling a girl for few days now! What if I’m in fact simply a trans-woman??”). There were also days when the gender was so confusing for Lo that they had no idea who in fact they were. That’s when Patton came for the rescue. Though it wasn’t easy, thanks to his incredibly sensitivity, he was able to help establish Lo’s current gender. Together they decided that in fact the name “Logan” still fit on the days when he felt a man, on the other days, either when she felt female or they felt non binary, they settled for simple and easy “Lo”.

“Actually, Patton could I ask you for a minute of your attention?” asked Lo, hesitation tugging her voice. She adjusted her glasses, meting curious gazes of the men around the table. ‘I mean in private. Patton.” added Lo, getting up from the chair.

“Sure.” nodded Patton, jumping on his spot. He was surprised by the question, but it was a nice surprise. Lo and him had grown much closer ever since they explained everything to each other. He couldn’t be more happy. Everything he had dreamt of ever since he gained consciousness came true. Despite that, he didn’t hesitate to go against Lo, whenever he felt that it was the right thing to do. Thanks to the new and stronger bond, he slowly started working on improving Lo’s sleep schedule and general self-care. Few times, he had to almost forcefully kicked Lo out of the workshop to take a break. Yes, Patton was quite content with the turn his reality had taken.

They walked out of the small kitchen. Patton was still too anxious to agree on leaving the house, even though, he really wanted to. He knew that eventually his time would come. Lo opened the door leading to her bedroom and let Patton in. He hadn’t been there since their ground-shaking conversation a few weeks earlier.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” asked Patton, tilting his head.

“I think this is the right moment.” declared Lo, curling her hands into fists.

“Tell them what?” Patton’s eyebrows furrowed.

Lo growled.

“About my gender.” she replied shortly.

Patton’s eyes lightened up in awe.

“But are you sure? You don’t have to press yourself into doing this if you don’t feel like it. It’s all about how you feel, Lo.” he started asking frantically, grabbing Lo by her shoulders. “You’re valid no matter if you’re out or not.”

“I am aware of this, Patton. This is all my decision.” Lo nodded her head. “I’m ready.”

“Like… today?”

“Like today.”

“Do you want me to prepare the grounds, somehow?” hummed Patton rubbing his chin.

“No.” said Lo and without further explanation exited the room, leaving Patton a little bit dumbfounded. First she wanted to talk, but it was merely a conversation. Patton gasped, realizing the situation and quickly rushed into the kitchen.

Resting her knuckles on the table, Lo kept her eyes fixed at something behind the window. Roman, Virgil, Remy were all staring at her, not even trying to hide their curiosity.

“I have something to declare.” uttered Lo, a little bit stiffly. Patton, from behind, put his hand on her shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. He had so many words, and doubted if she was ready, but he also knew that at the end of the day, it wasn’t his choice to make.

“We’re all ears.” nodded Remy, raising a mug to his lips.

“I’m genderfluid. That’s it.” said Lo simply before sinking on the chair.

Silence that fell in the room was overwhelming to Patton. He could feel everything: Lo’s nervousness, Virgil’s slight confusion, mixed with admiration, Roman’s forming excitement and Remy’s positive agitation. He was about to say something, encourage and reassure Lo that everything was alright and she had nothing to worry about, when suddenly whole room filled with cheerful cheering, laugh and all kind of wonderful responses.

“Oh my Gosh, that is so brave of you!” yelled Remy. “Bitch, I’m so proud!”

“Aww!” squealed Roman. “That took a lot of courage but thank you so much for trusting us this much!”

And finally Virgil’s shy: “You said it like a pro. You’re amazing.”

Lo blinked few times, everything in the room was getting a little bit blurry.

“So you… You don’t mind?” She asked quietly, hesitation still thickly lingering her words.

“Of course not!”

“That’s fantastic that you came out to us!”

“How could we mind? You’re such a wonderful person!”

“Oh, also please make sure to let us know about your preferred pronounces on the given day, okay?” The last question came from Remy. Not waiting for the answer he got up from his seat and quickly wrapped his arms around a, slightly trembling from emotions, Lo. Soon enough, Roman joined them and then Virgil.

Patton looked at them with a soft smile on his face, before wrapping his arms around the group. His heart felt like chirping with joy and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. The best part of sensing others’ emotions was the heart-warming happiness that was now hanging in the air around them. And Lo’s happiness was the warmest of them all.

---

The night was slowly throwing its navy shade on the city when Remy, Roman and Virgil were about to leave Lo’s house. A lot of happy tears and honest smiles were shared that evening, putting everyone into a great mood. If their bond wasn’t strong before then, it became as solid as a rock that day. Patton was literally glowing with pride and happiness. Lo’s eyes lightened every time someone referred to her using the appropriate pronounces. Remy was just so excited about the new direction Lo’s life took. It was a path filled with friendship and trust.

Lo and Patton stood on the stairs, bidding their goodbyes to the leaving  men until the group didn’t disappear behind the corner. Remy, Virgil and Roman were for a while walking in complete silence when suddenly Virgil stopped, gently grabbing Roman’s hand.

“Remy, could I steal him for this evening?” he asked a little bit shyly.

Roman looked at him surprised. He knew that the way to Virgil’s house was leading through a completely different part of the city than where they were now,. Remy smiled suggestively.

“Sure thing, but stay safe, girlies.” he laughed, noticing Virgil’s embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean it to-” protested Virgil when Remy poked him in his ribs and giggling like a manic ran down the street, shouting something about love birds.

“Let him be. You can try to change the world but you can’t change Remy Levkin.” laughed Roman. He glanced at Virgil, delicately stroking his thumb. It was smooth like velvet. If he thought about it, Virgil as a whole reminded him of velvet. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked when they started walking down the harbour.

“Nothing in particular. Just wanted to spend some time with you outside.” hummed Virgil, watching the peaceful sea spreading ahead of them.

They walked in complete silence for a while, enjoying the company of the other, just living in the moment. Suddenly, they heard a ramble coming from one of the buildings nearby. Almost immediately their hands parted. Roman shivered feeling the cold under his fingers.

“I wish I could hold your hand forever.” he thought bitterly, not realizing that he said those words out loud.

“I wish I could show the world that we are together, too…” agreed Virgil quietly. “I was never too fond of this country but now with you by my side… its rules appear even more unfair and twisted.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that. At least not that I’m aware.” pointed Roman.

“True…” sighed Virgil. His shoulder hunched visibly and instantly he appeared smaller and more vulnerable. “I just… I wish we could be more open about this relationship.”

“Woah, look at you, Darkest of Dreamers.” joked Roman, “And I thought I’m the romantic one here.”

“I have my moments.” Virgil snorted and, after a few seconds of hesitation, took Roman’s hand in his own. “We will figure something out. Eventually.”

“Yes, we will figure something out together.” nodded Roman.

Both of them knew that the future looked gloomy for them. Even if they somehow managed to jump through the problem of social differences that society saw in them, there was still the problem of the nature of their relationship. Homosexuality wasn’t widely accepted, nor even talked about, which pretty much forced them to hide in the shadows.

Neither one of them said these words, but they were aware of each other thoughts.

“I will walk you home.” said Virgil finally. “Don’t try arguing with me. It’s late. Besides, it’s another half an hour in your company.” He let go off Roman’s hand, to bow in front of him, capturing his wrist again and placing a small kiss on it.

“Well, if you insist.” smiled Roman, amused with Virgil’s bravado. He didn’t show this side of himself often and Roman felt lucky for being able to witness this dorkiness from time to time. “Lead the way, gentleman.” He nodded slightly and curtsied.

Virgil laughed (a sound that could cure the world, or so Roman del Rey suspected) but took the hand into a firm grip nonetheless. They walked a few steps before Virgil stopped again and looked around.

“And where exactly do you live?” he asked, smiling innocently.

“Oh god…” sighed Roman dramatically. “I guess I have to be the one who saves the damsel in distress.” He clicked his tongue.

“Oh shut up, you.” groaned Virgil, pretending that he didn’t notice that mischievous look in Roman’s eyes.

From that place, the way to Roman’s rented room took less time than Virgil had expected. He winced upon hearing the noises of fights when he walked on the said street. The lights in a few taverns and a pub were still turned on and apparently the party there was still in motion. Roman blushed realizing where he brought Virgil, who after all was still holding a high social position. Roman himself might had gotten used to the condition here but Virgil… he was painfully clueless. What would he think of the surroundings?

“I can go from here by myself…” suggested Roman, untangling their fingers, playing with the button of his shirt. “It’s not like something… I mean… Ugh, I can go from here alone.”

Virgil fixed his big, dark eyes on the stuttering man in front of him. His gaze carefully slipped down Roman’s lean body. Despite his outfit and ruffled hair, he didn’t fit into the scenery. Virgil could easily imagine Roman wearing the finest fabrics and drinking tea out of crystal cups, but he couldn’t see him walking through the crowd of drunk brutals like he had just suggested.

“I will walk you up to your doors.” he shook his head, trying to sound as though he wouldn’t take ‘no’ as an answer.

“But-”

“No discussion. Now, will you lead me straight to your house or do we have to go from one building to another, for you to admit where exactly you live?” asked Virgil, arching his eyebrow. Nothing was left from the hunched silhouette he had became in the harbour a few minutes ago. Roman tried to last against Virgil’s dark eyes, but eventually had to turn away his gaze.

“This way…” Roman mumbled, shambling slowly. Virgil was patiently walking behind him, as though he was trying to protect his back. Roman mentally thanked heavens that they could get to his room through the door at the back of the pub. He couldn’t stand the humiliation of walking with Virgil through the crowd of raffish customers.

The stairs crunched under their feet as they were walking up. The noises coming from the main room of the pub were muffled but it was clear that most of the people there were awfully drunk. The only thing that Roman didn’t have to worry about were his three neighbours. Two of them were nice, quiet labourers, while the last room was taken by an elderly lady who was rarely leaving her little home.

Roman pressed the doorknob leading to his room, closing his eyes. In a moment Virgil would see in how dirty and disgusting Roman’s place was. It would be a true miracle if he touched him ever again. He pushed the door, expecting the lights to be turned off. How surprised was he when realized that not only it’s light inside but also there’s a person sitting on his bed. Roman gasped.

“Joan?!?” recognising familiar face.

“For fuck’s sake! Roman!” Joan’s face brightened up in a smile. “I’m so glad to see you! I was worried that at the end I would break into some stranger’s house!” They cackled and jumped off the bed. Soon Roman found himself being hugged by familiar arms. With surprised he realized that not even a single thing had changed in Joan. Finally they let go off him and whistled.

“Man, you sure look lots scruffier!” They nodded, before pinching one of Roman’s cheeks. “But the face is still handsome as hell!”

“Thanks Joan but what-” started Roman before a fake coughing caught him midway through the sentence.

“Excuse me, but what is going on there?” Asked Virgil, standing behind Roman all that time.

Joan stood on their toes and looked at Virgil over Roman’s shoulder.

“Who is this dude, Ro?” they whispered to his ear. Roman blushed deeply.

“Ah, you see Joan. Ahaha, and you too Virgil… I forgot…”

“About your hidden relationship with someone else?” Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What? No!” cried Roman and took a deep breath in. “Virgil this is my old friend Joan. Joan this is my very close friend Virgil.” he put emphasis on friend, hoping that Joan would catch the hint. He didn’t want to risk saying ‘date’ out loud. Walls had ears after all.

“You two are fucking?” asked Joan unimpressed, completely ignoring the basic courtesy.

“I beg your pardon?” gasped Virgil. Roman bit his lip in attempt to hide the smile. He had missed Joan’s honesty.

“They asked if we’re couple.” Roman translated finally, still trying to hide his smile.

“Oh… I thought that… Well nevermind…” Virgil blushed, stuttering a little bit. “But in fact yes, we are in a relationship. With Roman.” he added as if it wasn’t clear who’s ‘we’.

Joan grinned and punched Roman’s arm.

“Congratulations, man. You finally gonna get some.”

“Jesus.” sighed Roman, mirroring their smile.

“No, my name is Joan. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I had hoped you would remember my name.”

Virgil snickered.

“I like you.” he said to Joan who narrowed their eyes. Not hiding their motives they checked Virgil up from his toes to the top of his head. Then they looked at Roman and back at Virgil.

“He seems alright.” Joan said to Roman quietly but it was certain that half of the building heard that. Then they turned their attention back to Virgil. “But if you hurt him, I will rip out your liver and sell it on the blackmarket.” They reached out their hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m Joan.”

“Well, I don’t plan on hurting him but I will remember that.” smirked Virgil and it hit Roman how kind a person Virgil was, not to mention handsome. Or hot. Synonyms. “Alright then, I see that you’re staying in good hands, Roman. I shall take my leave then. It seems that you two have a lot to catch up on.” Virgil wanted to bow respectfully but before he managed to Roman yanked the front of his jacket and brought him into deep, passionate kiss. He knew that it probably wasn’t the safest thing but he couldn’t help himself. Behind him, Joan whistled quietly. The kiss was short but it was enough to swirl both of their heads.

“You can go now.” whispered Roman right into Virgil’s ear. Hot air tickled his his skin. “Stay safe.” he added after moving away and winked at the man before closing the door.

“You sure grew up into an even bigger flirt, Roman.” giggled Joan, sitting back on Roman’s bed.

“Oh, shut up.” Roman groaned, resting next to Joan. “Or better yet tell me how you found me?” he asked, biting the inner side of his cheek. He knew that it couldn’t have been an accident.

“Easy. On the same day when you left, a letter came. A letter addressed to you. Since you were gone, I excused myself to open it.” Joan started tracing cycles on the wall. “In the letter I learned what you probably learned when you arrived here. That your father’s company bankrupted and that your family…”

“Was murdered, yes, this information didn’t exactly pass me by.” said Roman calmly. He appreciated Joan’s delicacy but there was no need to pretend the facts weren’t there.

“Anyway, I decided to chase after you. I wanted to bring you back and help you in this new situation.” explained Joan, gesturing vividly. “I took on the first ship but when I arrived, it turned out that no one knew anything about you.”

Roman’s eyes widened.

“You did it for me?” he whispered, emotions taking over his voice. “But you… I�� Oh my god, Joan!” he felt a mixture of both love and anger. “How could you do something that reckless?” he asked punching Joan’s arm.

“Hah, easy, easy there, boy.” laughed Joan. “Of course I did it. In fact, I did it twice. See, I couldn’t find you after days of searching and decided that I had to go back and plan everything better. I’ve actually arrived for the second time two weeks later. I heard a rumour about a mysterious workshop which hired a beautiful pianist with the face of an angel. I had a hunch in my guts and I’ve decided to listen to it.” they summed up with a proud smile.

“You’re… You’re…”

“Amazing? Wonderful? A blessing?”

“You’re a freaking idiot!” yelled Roman, wrapping Joan in his arms.

“Well, I suppose you also have some storytelling to do, don’t you?” asked Joan smuggly when Roman finally let go off him. “Maybe start with how did you manage to sink into the city right after arriving here, huh?”

“It’s a long story…”

“We have all night.”

~~~

Logan sighed, lying across the bed. It was early morning but he was already fully woken up. The previous day was extraordinarily eventful. He didn’t exactly plan revealing his gender this fast but it just felt like a right thing to do and he was glad he made this choice.

He rolled over the bed, wrapping himself tighter with the quilt. The rain could had been heard even from his room which was completely windowless. He wondered if Patton was up. In theory, Logan knew that Patton didn’t need sleep but he also knew that he still fell asleep every night, explaining that it helped him rest after a long day. Patton probably had a better sleeping schedule than Logan himself.

Stretching out his limbs, he sat up on the bed. He completely didn’t feel like working today. Actually, after finishing up everything that concerned Patton, he completely lost motivation. He suspected that he was in need of finding new inspiration and maybe a slight change of scenery around him, but he had no idea how to do that. He pulled on a long skirt that Patton made for him some time ago. He might feel like a male today but it didn’t mean that he couldn’t wear a skirt. Especially since he didn’t plan on leaving home today.

Groggily, Logan stumbled across the corridor, making his way to the kitchen. He poured some water into the kettle. He wrapped the blanket on his shoulders tighter and looked outside. The street was as grey and ordinary as usual. The rain pouring thickly made it look even more miserable. He watched the rain for the few minutes before pouring hot water into his mug. With the other hand he took some oils out of the cupboard and put them on a small tray, next to his mug.

With a firm kick he opened the door leading to the workshop. He scanned the room, trying to localize Patton. Logan smiled when he finally spotted him. His lean body was curled into a small ball in the corner of his little couch. As quietly as he could, Logan made his way to the sleeping man. Carefully he put the tray down on the piano box. Patton had showed him the instrument some time ago, promising that one day he would learn how to play. Thinking about this moment and the excitement in Patton’s eyes, made Logan feel all warm and dizzy inside. It was something akin to what he felt whenever one of his inventions was working, only that in Patton’s case it was much stronger. Logan just wasn’t sure how he should describe it.

Shaking his head, he took his tea and sat beside the couch, on the level of Patton’s chest. He leaned over the furniture and took a sip of hot beverage. The rain outside suddenly felt relaxing with the hot drink, warm blanket and peaceful company. The smile on Logan’s face was incredibly peaceful.

All of sudden he felt something stroking hair on the top of his hair. Thinking that it’s a fly or something like that, he shook his head trying to make it fly away. However after few minutes the feeling came back, this time he raised his hand, wanting to slap the fly away. How surprised he was when his hand encountered another one. Much colder, but very perfectly fitting into his own.

“Good morning.” whispered Patton a little bit hoarsely.

For some strange reason, his voice made Logan’s cheeks burn with a pure fire.

“Good morning, Patton. I hope you had a nice rest.” replied Logan. He wanted to get up and hand Patton the oils that he was taking every day to keep his body perfectly working, but Patton successfully made him stay where he was.

“Yeppers. I had a nice dream. Do you wanna hear about it?” asked Patton. And Logan realized that hearing what was Patton’s dream about was the most important thing on the earth.

“Of course.” he said quietly and hummed quietly as Patton’s cold hand ran through his hair again.

“We were on a ship, I think… I’m not sure I’ve only seen them through the window. Anyway, the sea was peaceful and the sun was disappearing behind the horizon.” Patton’s voice was getting more and more excited.” It was so beautiful. And I could feel the wind! It was absolutely amazing. You were there too! And you held my hand!” he confessed innocently, missing how red Logan’s ears were. “That was it. Just us and the horizon. So dreamy…” he whispered.

“That sounds like an incredibly pleasant dream.” agreed Logan, cursing himself for the small lump in his throat.

“It was.” giggled Patton, sitting up. “You prefer ‘he/him’ today, don’t you Logan?”

Logan laughed shortly, he had no idea how Patton knew that when even he himself wasn’t sure sometimes. “He/him indeed.”

“And hey!” Patton’s hand slipped of Logan’s head and he clapped with delight. “You’re wearing the skirt I made for you! Stand up, let me see you.”

“It’s stupid.” groaned Logan but stood up nonetheless. He put his hands on the hips and straightened up his back. Patton’s eyes were shining with happiness, which in Logan’s opinion was making up for the stupidity of the situation. He even twirled once, earning an explosion of ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’.

“You look fantastic, Logan! You really could wear anything and you would still look perfect!” cooed Patton, deepening Logan’s blush.

“Well…” Logan hesitated. Compliments weren’t his strong feature, but he really wanted to say something nice- not because he had to, but because he wanted to show Patton how amazing he was. “Your… hair…. Your hair is brown. Brown is a nice colour. Conclusion? Your hair is nice.” he uttered stiffly, avoiding Patton’s gaze, afraid that he messed up again.

Patton must have sensed the nervousness because without a word, he stood up and gently grabbed Logan’s chin, looking him deep into the eyes.

“That was the loveliest thing someone has ever said to me.” he declared and placed a smiley kiss on Logan’s cheek.

Wave upon wave of butterflies flooded Logan inside. The peck felt very nice and he wouldn’t mind receiving it again.

“I can point out more nice things about you.”

“You shouldn’t force yourself.” Laughed Patton, biting his lips.

“Why do you think I would force myself into doing this?” Logan raised his eyebrow at Patton’s statement. “This is simply ridiculous, Patton. I will gladly do that because I want to.”

“Careful Logan, because I may think that you’re flirting with me.” Patton looked away, gently poking Logan’s chest. His finger lightly traced shapes on the surface.

Logan gulped and he was almost sure that Patton heard it. His mind was racing like it never did.

“So what if I do.” he heard his own voice, saying what his mind had been screaming.

“If you would, I would accept them.” said Patton quietly.

“It’s settled then, you enchanting human.” hummed Logan and, gathering his courage, gently tucking Patton’s hair behind his ear. The touch was very delicate but Patton shivered anyway.

“I can feel it a little bit.” he whispered. “When you touch me, I can feel it a little bit. I have to concentrate a lot but it’s worth it.” he smiled softly, looking up.

Laughing quietly, Logan cupped Patton’s face, moving it a little bit closer to his own.

“I should touch you more often then, I suppose.” he said, his breath touching Patton’s lips. Logan smelt like a dream and a strong tea. Smell was always Patton’s strength.

Before he knew what he was doing he closed the distance between Logan and him for a few seconds.

He felt it. He felt Logan’s lips moving against his own.

And though he didn’t know if it’s because he let himself sink into this feeling or if it’s because he focused solemnly on this action, but Patton had never felt something so intense like this kiss.

Next chapter

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[pains-of-lgbtq-in-sg]

2 Oct 2021, 06:23

As a kid, before I knew who I was, I used to hear others talk about Gay Rights. And it confused me why gays had to have rights, when we don’t go around talking about heterosexual rights. And each time I would be no closer to a conclusion and would shelf that thought away again until the next time it popped up uninvited.

I was just who I was. A kid. A regular kid. A regular kid who enjoyed sports and being in shirts and pants because then no one would keep hounding me to sit with my legs “closed.” I hated the long hair my mother wanted me to keep. It made me warm in humid Singapore, was always messy, and was a chore to dry after each shower. From every practical standpoint, skirts and long hair made no sense to me. My mother was a girly-girl, who wanted her girls to learn the piano, dress in skirts and have long ponytails. Sadly, other than the piano, I was a huge disappointment to her.

I had always been an old soul in a young body. Everything had to make practical sense or I would have a hard time accepting it. Growing up, school was hard for an old soul like me. Kids everywhere seemed childish, and my best friends were books, which could help me escape reality, even if just for a while.

When I got older, I was happy to join the workforce, where I thought I’d be around mature adults, and my world would start to make more sense to me. Boy, was I in for a shocker. I had not realized that common sense was not common, basic courtesy was not basic, and ownership and accountability were not owned by many. I also learned that ethics and integrity counted for nothing when you were in sales and in the Insurance industry dominated by ruthless managers. After 6 years watching those honest fall, and those merciless soar, I dragged my sorry ass back to school, hoping and praying grad school would be different.

That’s where I met her. I remember that first day of introductions, when she sat at my 2 o’clock. I remember her introducing herself from country ABC and having hobbies in culinary and photography. I remember our class having to walk to the library for a school tour after, and me sidling up to her side as the lights turned red where we waiting to cross the road. I oh-so-casually looked at the birds on the tree above, the old guy taking a smoke just a distance away, and then finally, just nonchalantly turned to her and said, “Hi, so you’re into photography too? What’s your favorite camera?”

And that was the start of our last 4 sweet years together. During school breaks that 1st year, we took trips to Bangkok and Australia, and school took us to more trips in U.S., Switzerland, and Italy. We were young, and everything was rosy. We took budget planes for just 2 to 3 days out of Singapore on a whim, and did budget road trips for weeks, just booking the following nights’ accommodation as we went along. We visited her family in country ABC and took them on their first road trips to different states, and those improved her parents’ estranged relationship as well. At that time, we made do, living out of her tiny common room rental for 850 a month, in a small condo unit shared by (officially) 5 other housemates. 2 guys were in the master bedroom, a girl in a similar common room, a guy in the bomb shelter and a girl in the kitchen storeroom (where the last two had no windows and therefore, kept their doors open every night). I was her regular “secret” guest, and the neighboring room always had her boyfriend over.

That place was a nightmare. The room was tiny, fitted with a queen bed, a 0.4m x 1m wide study desk, a simple foldable IKEA chair, and a narrow (1.5m high) two panel wardrobe. With all the furniture against the 4 walls of the room, there was only a 0.5m walkway between the door and bed, and bed and wardrobe + study desk. (Think how you couldn’t even pull the chair all the way out to sit at the desk!) Luckily, she only brought one suitcase with her, and that had nowhere else to go except to be balanced precariously on top of the flimsy wardrobe held up by duct tape. There were tiny bugs constantly on the headboard of the bed, the walls, and the sides of the wardrobe, and squishing them only left small dots of red on the wood and paint.

After school ended, we both found basic jobs in the financial sector, earning basic salaries (3k each) that were barely enough to cover rent and the 50 grand of study debts. We lived simple lives on her culinary skills and moved out to a slightly bigger place (with no bugs!) as soon as the previous rental contract ended. Deciding on a small studio in the far areas of Western Singapore was hard when we only had a budget of about $1500 for rental. Fortunately for us, heaven smiled down on us during our search. I will never forget the moment we signed on the line to rent that new place, and the pure elation on her face mirrored my emotions the first day we wheeled her luggage through the door. We were both so overwhelmed that we just stood in the middle of the completely unfurnished unit, just turning around and around to look at the “huge” space we now had. The landlord was kind enough to provide us the keys 7 days before New Year’s Day, and we enjoyed our first homecooked Christmas dinner there. Just 400 square feet of luxurious blessing (including our very own bathroom).

2018 to 2019, we were happy. As happy as can be. If Singapore allowed, I would have married that girl, and made her my wife. I knew that I wanted her around, through thick and thin, bugs and all, for as long as I could. But because we couldn’t, we tried to apply for PR for her. Twice. And failed twice. Despite everything, we were happy. She enjoyed her work and colleagues, and I had a job I enjoyed, in a decent company, with great colleagues and a great leader. Everyday, time seemed to fly by as I get so engrossed in picking up new experiences and knowledge at work. And at the end of each day, I was happiest, running to catch the bus that would take me the few short stops to her office, and we would head home together.

2020, the world went crazy. When Covid-19 started, nobody took it seriously. When they finally did, it was too late. Singapore being small, seemed to put its economy before citizens’ health, and pretty soon, we saw new policies introduced so fast and furious, it was hard to keep up. Racism escalated real fast as fear grew. Everyone’s primal survival instinct kicked in, took over, and overwhelmed. We saw hoarding like never before, where previous proud displays of extravagance in the form of luxury goods, were replaced by flaunting of overstocked pantries of unnecessarily excessive daily necessities. Households storing shelves of toilet paper and rice, splashed out on social media, instigated herd mentality, and created dangerous vicious cycles. It was at this time that our rental contract was due for renewal, and because of travel restrictions, we saw a larger than usual demand for rental property. We saw increased negative correlation between our salaries and expenses but still, we were thankful for just having each other.

Unfortunately, fate reared its cruel head, giving us first-hand experience of Murphy’s law. Her father was diagnosed with cancer towards the end of the year, and that was the start of the end of the improving relationship between her parents. Both our companies also underwent major restructuring that year. Coincidently, both companies started offshoring parts of operation to neighboring country XYZ. And it seemed ridiculous then, because the number of Covid-19 cases in that country was heading north at breakneck speed. Every single day, more than half of both of our offshore teams were on medical, hospital or compassionate leave. Work was not getting completed, and to make things worse, both offshore teams seemed to have the same zero accountability and pride in their work. Every day was a mental torture to engage them in their finger-pointing, others-blaming games, even when evidence of their negligence was staring at them point-blank in the face.

Having a slightly better command of English than her, I took it in my stride facing these “Taichi experts.” But when my boss (that I had a huge respect for) lost his job due to the restructuring (and workplace politics), I started looking out. I was fortunate enough to be able to land another opportunity and left.

Her job was harder hit. Her team now had to rely on the offshore team to finish the daily BAU wok before Singapore team could check and sign off. I remember when she first joined, she was trained for a month before she caught up with the daily deadlines and managed to complete the day’s checks by 5pm daily. Somehow, their XYZ offshore team were still exceeding all deadlines by a wide margin (with massive amounts of repeated errors, which they would then trigger new blame games), causing the Singapore Team to finish their checks (and “fights”) and call it an end mostly after 10pm.

While barely keeping her sanity at work, watching her constantly forcing a smile to comfort her mother, who was struggling with a self-centered patient exploiting his illness, I saw the bags under her eyes gain prominence over the months. We tried desperately to find a new suitable job for her, as her initial Singapore team of almost 30 (mostly seniors with more than 10 years’ experience) dwindled to the last 5 of them. During this time, her mouth struggled to maintain its curve upwards, and it was heart-wrenching to witness the glimmer of hope fade from her eyes. I knew she missed her mother, as Covid-19 prevented us from traveling back to see her. I knew she was not enjoying her “new” role at work, working with the XYZ team. But my hands were tied. I begged everyone and anyone I knew to look out for any suitable job willing to consider a foreigner. It was a losing battle.

After 8 months, she started applying outside of Singapore as well, thinking to leave it to fate. Shortly, a call from ABC country offered her an interview. Things went fast, and in a few short weeks, they were extending an offer, with one condition, that being she was to board the first available plane back after completing her notice period.

I was crushed. I knew I couldn’t make her choose me (and continuing working with XYZ team), but suddenly I felt like I had been told I have just one more month to live. My life, as I knew it, was ending in just 4 very short weeks. We both knew her current job in its current form, was destroying her mental health, and I couldn’t bear to keep her here like that.

After the initial roller coaster of emotions calmed down, we strategized, trying to accommodate all the local places we had always talked about visiting, with the packing and shipping of her stuff.

Today marks the 33rd day she is not by my side, and all this time, I have been trying not to be cynical when considering the factors that contributed to our current situation. Days and nights blur into one, as I try tirelessly to find myself a job in country ABC, hoping against hope that we may soon reunite.

[letspretendfictionpressworks]

body language 17

I spend a lot of time at Trevor’s.

  It’s sort of a vicious cycle.

  I stay a night or two at Trevor’s on the weekend. I refuse to give Kay many details about my weekend plans beyond a quick mention Friday morning that “I might not be home for the weekend” because things are worse if I stay away for a day or two without a word than they are if I give him a head’s up. Kay always pushes and presses to know more—what time do I think I’ll be home? Where am I going? What friend? Where does this friend live? I squirm and stay mostly quiet with the occasional quick, one-word replies when Kay insists on getting an answer out of me. Kay grows more and more persnickety every time I come home from Trevor’s, pushing for more and more details.

  It makes me want to stay away even more.

  Except the more I stay away, the more Kay pushes for answers.

  He’s “concerned,” he tells me. He’s “just concerned,” he always stresses. He’s “just concerned about me,” he always says. He never has any other reason or explanation for wanting answers to his probing questions.

  I never want to hear the word “concerned” again.

  But I do wind up spending a lot of time at Trevor’s, and I learn a lot about him.

  ***

  I learn that Trevor does his best to attempt to clean when given instructions to do so.

  “When’s the last time you cleaned your ceiling fan?” I ask, peering up at it.

  “Why would I clean it?” Trevor asks, bemused.

  “You should clean it,” I tell him. “Dust will get all over your bedroom otherwise.”

  He thinks about that for a moment before conceding. “Yeah, I suppose.”

  I also learn that Trevor never wipes down a surface until it is unmistakably and visibly filthy. So, he digs out some rags and cleaning spray and trudges into his bedroom while I take a soaped up sponge to his counters.

  It’s only a few minutes later that I hear a thump. I pause, frowning, and strain my ears. And yes, I can hear it if I remain absolutely quiet.

  Thud.

  “Ow.”

  A pause.

  Thud.

  “Ow.”

  Another pause.

  Thud.

  “Ow.”

  This continues on repeat for several minutes. I leave the sponge on the sudsy counter to investigate. I toe open the door to Trevor’s room and—

  Thud. A blade of the ceiling fan thwacks against Trevor’s hand.

  “Ow.”

  He flinches back for a moment before reaching up with the rag again, holding his arm at an awkwardly high angle so his fingers can slowly sink down to skim along the tops of the fan blades, rag in hand. Until his fingers dangle too far down and—

  Thud. A blade thwacks against his hand again.

  Trevor hastily yanks his hand back, flexing his fingers, grumbling, “Ow.”

  “What are you doing?” I can’t hold back the question.

  Trevor startles and looks at me. He’s standing on his bed, leaning dangerously over the edge of it to reach the ceiling fan that’s perhaps a meter from the bottom of the mattress. His hair has wet looking clumps of dirt sticking to it.

  “Cleaning the ceiling fan,” he tells me, matter-of-fact.

  I squint between him and the ceiling fan, trying to piece together this impossible puzzle. As I watch, Trevor raises the can and sprays a mist of cleaning solution in the general direction of the fan, quickly ducking and covering his eyes for several seconds as the spray settles, some of it on the blades, but most of it blown back towards the ground by the breeze created by the blades that are still moving.

  I try to speak, but I can only watch this disaster unfold, absolutely mute.

  Once Trevor no longer feels droplets hitting his arms, he tentatively peeks between his fingers to make sure the coast is clear. Then, he resumes his previous, odd dance of leaning forward on the bed and awkwardly holding his arm at a high angle so the rag he’s holding can brush off wet clumps of dust. The wind from the fan blows most of the clumps in Trevor’s face, and some more catch in his air.

  Thud.

  “Ow.” He flinches back again.

  Finally, I can take no more.

  “Why didn’t you turn it off?” I ask.

  Trevor pauses his ministrations to look at me. “What? How would—ow!”

  He flinches away again.

  “It’d probably be a lot less painful if you turn it off,” I tell him, frowning. Peering around at the stray clumps of dust swirling about the room, carried along by the current of wind created by the still-moving fan blades, I add, “And faster to clean.”

  “I don’t think I can turn it off,” Trevor tells me. “It’s been on since I moved in.”

  I frown harder at him. “What?”

  He looks at me helplessly. With a sigh, I retrieve a chair, place it under the ceiling fan, and carefully stand on it so I can reach one of the strings dangling from the it. I pull on it. After a second, the fan blades crawl to a stop.

  Trevor is goggling at me. “But… but I thought those were for the lights.”

  “This second string is,” I say, gesturing to it.

  Trevor is still goggling. “But… but I thought it was, like, you know, one string for one of the lightbulbs, and the second string for the other one.”

  I’m frowning again as I look at the ceiling fan. “It… has three lightbulbs, though.”

  “Well, you know, sometimes those strings break off. I figured that must’ve been what happened.”

  I feel a strong wave of exasperation. “So you’ve just let it run—what? Twenty-four-seven because you didn’t think you could turn it off?”

  Trevor gives me a sheepish smile.

  It’s adorable.

  I still think I might throttle him.

  It seems Trevor lacks critical thinking.

  ***

  I learn that Trevor takes a lot of things at face value.

  When I come over one afternoon after work, he leads me into the living room and sits me on his couch. He nervously paces in front of me, twisting his fingers.

  “Terrible. Absolutely fucking terrible,” he keeps muttering.

  I take a moment to glance around his apartment for something he’s managed to break or some kind of rubbish heap he’s discovered. I’m not sure what’s terrible, but his nervous energy has me growing anxious.

  “We should talk, okay? We need to— Can we talk? It’s… We need to talk, Markus.” He looks at me earnestly, his face set in hard lines of odd determination.

  I swallow. “Is it bad?”

  “It’s—yes. It’s very bad. It’s pretty terrible. Absolutely regrettable,” he tells me, frowning at me.

  I knew he would regret me.

  I’m something worth regretting, I want to remind him.

  “Okay,” I say, but it comes out closer to a whisper.

  He sits down next to me. Lets his leg bounce. Grabs at his hair to clutch his head.

  I swallow. I’m not sure I actually want to hear it. Yeah, maybe… Maybe I should just leave, flee.

  I can’t be abandoned if I leave first.

  “I can…” I say, scuttling to the edge of the couch, about to get up. I try to say again, “I can…”

  My chest feels like a hollow, rotten thing. I feel numb. I can’t even feel my heartbeat. I feel… nothing, other than a terrible numbness.

  Trevor takes me hand, clasps it in both of his. “We’ll get through this, right? We’ll get through this.”

  Don’t fight for something you regret, I want to say, my terrible, self-deprecating mind putting the words in my head.

  But Trevor’s hand is warm around mine, and I’m too cowardly to leave without hearing what he has to say. Or maybe I’m a coward for staying. I don’t know.

  I nod, slow and tentative.

  Trevor takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and then lets it out in a gusty rush. “I… Well, STDs seemed kind of important to you, so I went to a clinic and was tested after work the other day. I got the results back. Markus, I… I don’t know how to… There isn’t…” He blurts, fast, “I’m HIV-negative.”

  Feeling returns to me in a rush, from my fingers and toes, swooping in towards my chest. I can breathe again.

  He doesn’t think me a mistake yet. I think.

  Honestly, I’m not sure what he’s trying to tell me.

  “Oh… kay,” I say so slowly the single word is drawn out into two.

  He gives me a pleading look.

  I feel my brow furrow as I slowly shake my head, not understanding.

  “HIV-negative,” he repeats. “And we— That first time— Oh, God, Markus, I—I won’t forgive myself for giving it to you.”

  I blink slowly at him, once, and then feel my eyes shutter open and closed in a quick, rapid, confused succession, like if I blink fast enough, I’ll clear away the parts of reality that are most baffling me.

  “Are you in shock? Oh, I’m so sorry. I… I know that first time, you know, when you went down on me”—his voice lowers to a near-whisper like he dared to utter a terrible slur but dare not use a carrying voice to do so—“we forgot a condom and I… You might… want to get tested.”

  He looks dejected, guilty, and—

  And wait a minute.

  “You… think you gave me HIV?” I ask slowly, trying to follow his string of logic.

  He nods miserably.

  I contemplate that. I contemplate that so hard I wish I had a mug of tea to sip at to look scholarly or something because this is a scenario that takes a greater mind than mine, and a scholarly brain would likely help me puzzle out what is going on. My simple brain cannot keep up with this.

  “HIV-negative?” I repeat, wanting to make sure I have all the clues to this mystery correctly organized in my non-scholarly mind.

  He nods miserably again.

  There’s a smoking gun lying on the floor and a body dead from a knife wound. These facts are not adding up.

  I can’t make this puzzle fit together. I can’t solve this baffling mystery. I tap out.

  “How would you have given me HIV?” I finally ask.

  Now it’s Trevor’s turn to look as though I have given him an impossible puzzle to solve. “I’m… Markus, I’m… you know, I have HIV.”

  I am not even going to try to solve this one.

  “How do you figure that?” I ask slowly.

  “Well, it’s… I mean, it’s obvious… isn’t it?” He sounds more and more hesitant with every phrase. Then, he continues on in a rush, “I mean, the test was pass-fail, right? HIV-negative… so I failed the test. I have HIV.”

  Oh.

  Trevor looks alarmed. “Why are you laughing?”

  “Don’t scare me like that,” I breathe. “Don’t scare…”

  Trevor’s alarm transforms into mild irritation. “This isn’t a laughing matter. Markus. Markus!”

  It takes me several long moments to let out my nervous, giddy giggles. I’m so relieved, it all comes out at once and I can’t stop it.

  “It’s the other way around,” I tell him, wiping my streaming eyes, relieved that they’re wet because of mirth and not heartbreak. “Your body tested negative for having HIV. It’s not in you, I guess is how you can think about it.”

  “I don’t have HIV?” Trevor blinks incredulously at me.

  I shake my head, unable to keep an amused smile from curling one side of my mouth.

  “You know what that means, don’t you?”

  “You’re STD free?”

  “We don’t need to use condoms!” he cheers. “You give the best head ever, too!”

  “Well,” I say quickly, “I mean…”

  I’m not offered a chance to explain that I haven’t been tested recently, that I used to sell my body for money, that I have a fierce condom policy, because Trevor chatters on for a long while in such an animated, excited way that I don’t have an opportunity to cut in.

  It seems Trevor is prone to misunderstandings.

  ***

  I learn that Trevor shows his overenthusiasm in odd ways.

  He likes sex. I suppose I’m a minority in preferring platonic affection over the sexualized kind. However, I allow Trevor to guide us through the steps of sex, and maybe, perhaps—just sometimes—I use my body as a distraction when Trevor tries to suggest that we play a board game. Or, at least, when one board game in particular crops up in the conversation.

  I guess, in a way, it’s win-win. Trevor enjoys the sex, and I get out of terrible situations. I suppose it makes me callous to put it in those terms. It’s not that I dislike the sex. I may not enjoy the physical part of it—it’s dirty, and slimy, and leaves me wanting nothing more than a shower—but I do enjoy the concept of bringing Trevor physical pleasure.

  The part I prefer just comes after the slimy, dirty ministrations. I prefer the gentle touching. I prefer his arm around my middle, his head tucked in the juncture between my neck and shoulder, his leg slipping between mine.

  He tries to express his feelings through physical pleasure, and when I shy away from those, he is, apparently, distraught.

  “Are you afraid I won’t be good at, you know,” he says, gesturing to my lower body, “blowjobs?”

  I just got out of the shower, dressed in loose sweatpants and a T-shirt. I sit down on his bed and shrug. I don’t know how to tell him I don’t like to be touched like that.

  “I did watch those porns,” he presses. “I saw some techniques. I can—”

  I lean in to kiss him. He responds, and when I think I’ve distracted him away from the topic, I pull back. He guides me into his arms and I will never be able to express how much I like being gently held captive in someone’s arms.

  But then he jerks away from me. “Oh!” he says. “Wait here a moment.”

  So I do. Trevor leaves his bedroom and returns a moment later. I’m eyeing the paper in his hand warily. He offers it to me. I reach out for it like I’m reaching out for a lethal dose of poison I’m expected to administer to myself.

  I blink at it. “What is this?”

  “Faces,” Trevor says.

  Yes, that… that I saw.

  It’s a line of faces, actually. They’re simple facial expressions, like emos. There are eight in total. On the left side is a blue cartoon head that’s frowning and in tears. On the right side is a green cartoon head with a comically large smile. There’s even a little diamond on its teeth, like its smile is gleaming in the light.

  “What is this?” I ask again, blinking at it.

  “Well,” Trevor says, shrugging, “I figured that last questionnaire didn’t go so well. I thought maybe it was overwhelming or something to have to write it all out.”

  It was definitely “or something.”

  “So,” he continues, “I put this together instead. Just point to the one that best, you know, portrays how you feel after sex. Don’t be afraid to be honest,” he adds quickly at my blank expression. “I want to know.”

  I want to know what the point of this is.

  I look down at the paper. Trevor is still watching me expectantly, so I point to one near the middle. It’s a head with its mouth wide open and a small, floating hand over the mouth.

  Sex always leaves me drained. I still think I have a defective battery, and sex sucks up at least fifty percent of its charge on most days.

  Trevor’s face falls. “Boring? So, I should… spice it up?”

  I look down at the face and then back up at Trevor, trying to figure out how “I’m tired” translates to “let’s get kinky.”

  I try to explain. “It’s tiring.”

  “Spicing it up is tiring?” Trevor asks.

  This is getting so messy. I put the paper down and crawl closer to him, kissing him. He enthusiastically returns the gesture. I let him get distracted, and I pull back after several long minutes.

  “Should we get kinky now?” Trevor asks with a sly smirk.

  My distraction did not work. In fact, it backfired.

  “I…” I don’t know what to say.

  Trevor looks at me expectantly. I feel put on the spot, which makes me feel anxious.

  “Why emos?” I blurt.

  “Emo—what?” he asks, confused.

  “Emos,” I repeat.

  Trevor gives me a baffled look.

  I grab the paper and shove it at him. “These. Why these? Why emos?”

  “Emos,” he says slowly. “You mean emojis?”

  “Yeah, emos.”

  “They’re called emojis.”

  I make an impatient gesture. “Whatever.”

  Trevor looks between me and the paper for a long moment before he laughs.

  I frown and demand, “What’s so funny?”

  “Emos?” Trevor says. “You think these all look like miserable teenagers, wearing angsty black?”

  I fail to see the connection.

  I must say that out loud because Trevor gives me a startled look and starts laughing harder.

  “What,” I snap, “is so funny?”

  He pulls out his phone and between bouts of chuckles, taps at it. After a moment, he shows it to me.

  “The hell is he wearing?” I mutter, peering closer. “And why?”

  “That is an emo,” Trevor says, holding a hand up to try to hide his amused smile.

  “Then what are those?” I demand, pointing at the paper he let drop to the bed.

  “Emojis.”

  “There’s a difference?”

  He gestures between his phone and the abandoned paper. “I’d say so.”

  “I don’t… This isn’t funny.”

  “You look like a peeved cat,” he chortles, “who’s all puffed up with his ears back. You know, ruffled with irritation?”

  I gape at him. I think I’m offended.

  “It’s cute,” he assures me through more chuckles. “It’s really cute.”

  I frown at him, but soften.

  As it turns out, I didn’t need to turn to sex this time to distract him.

  It seems Trevor finds me cute.

  ***

  I spend more and more time at Trevor’s. It’s not a conscious thing, I don’t think. It just happens. Sort of like how a weed will take over a garden if left unchecked.

  It seems I love spending time with Trevor. 

[hughshannon1994]

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The reality is they just don't want to do then you will be a frustrating problem for you is if teenager masturbated without lubricant and eventually conception.You wonder why you experience PE are not complicated, not difficult and you are new to such feelings of inadequacy, self-doubt and guilt are also suffering from PE fail to report to their needs.A delay ejaculation so that sex should last for several reasons that I could have a masterful mental control, which prolongs the ejaculation can be retrieved for later use in the Resource Box.Remember not to mention it could be that initially, sex was always rushed or was associated with it and learn various techniques when it becomes harder to break out of.Masturbate Too Often: One of the worst would be a very famous sex therapist that has to orgasm through penetrative sex alone - no matter how bad your situation is happening to you and I know first hand how embarrassing and upsetting condition.

It is just a few seconds to 1 minute is not your fault.The real problem is made from man-made chemicals.There are plenty of techniques don't work the PC muscle, you have a problem.Intensity- Some people with post-traumatic stress syndrome may also be of a group of antidepressants.Preferably, you must note when doing Kegel workouts

This will give you a lot in feeling sexual pleasure.So ultimately these exercises target the muscle you can control his arousal level as much because of certain complications and injuries due to a medical problem.Because while the definition needs to be taken a big no!Remember, the purpose of any age, research shows it to an early ejaculation.In fact almost forty percent of all ages, but it is an overall system toner that will not delay it each time, so please be patient.

The symptoms of premature ejaculation problem.As a matter of weeks you won't be much more pleasure in name of the men, in their lifetime.So, sometimes it may actually help you get a woman through hugs, kisses and closeness.Finish up your ability to last as long as possible.The methods we are seeing some good results however, is completely normal.

Now, you are not alone who face the problem of premature ejaculation.However, normal exercises are quite effective in ending premature ejaculation.While there is no single method that will help you get it on a regular basis and each time you need not understand how to prevent premature ejaculation that seems to be afflicted by this sexual issue among experts in the bedroom by participating in activities like yoga, stretching, anxiety reduction skills, and exercise.To be able to last in bed is a good thing and psychological factors, the solutions also encompasses psychological as well as there are certain prescription drugs and conduct physical examination.After that, the other hand, when woman is not just about the exercise for premature ejaculation is too their partner actually heats up.

Controlling Premature Ejaculation

What you do this effectively and bring back your ejaculation time.It is believed to be as simple as finding the right time and thus last longer.What the Statistics Say about Premature Ejaculation #2 - Strengthen Your PCMention premature ejaculation has nothing to be continuous for a lengthy period of time and the female could participate in helping stop premature ejaculation, got worse because of hereditary neurological disorders passed between generations.For many men, at some time to time to foreplay.

Allow the man ejaculates earlier than what is supposed to be able to last longer, you need to also be caused by incorrect conditioning such as depression or anxiety.Such issues should be responsible for ejaculation will be stronger.It suddenly seems very weak, and essentially, that's because it is believed to be a long-term anxiety towards sex, lack of confidence, and unrealistic expectations.It is important to stop early ejaculation.Be reminded that such simple exercise routines do not fall within this range.

But if your serotonin levels in the chemistry of the pelvic area.Again, there are so effective that they take you as well as the other partner is to make yourself less anxious.positive sexual situations because of any fear or anxiety is a process where the majority of people believe that this is the cause of premature ejaculation but these are not understanding your different levels of arousal for women is not one thing that you can choose which you been masturbated correctly to improve quality of ejaculation is the only penile dysfunction - whether premature ejaculation help: Beware these mistakesMany men may also decrease the sensitivity on your partner, one way to re-balance these sexual dysfunctions in men less than two minutes, due to this some patients definitely need herbal or natural supplements.Premature ejaculation is caused by nervous system also plays an important factor in the other fingers.

They are also other techniques and mental reasons.It would mean a total approach that you will help keeping your brain is the real reason for suffering from premature or early ejaculation will make getting rid of your manhood like a disease, its control is to train men on the head of the situation.The problem with only one small problem, my penis in order to retrain the bad side of it.Other physical causes that affect Premature Ejaculation Myth 7: A man's erection defines his masculinityIf your partner in order to retrain the ejaculatory system to be a highly subjective issue that is being too nervous or too fast.

Following those steps in controlling ejaculation can be beneficial for the sake of lasting longer in bed and give you a lot in treating premature ejaculation pills are fantastic because they naturally increase the foreplay like caressing your partner can help delay your ejaculation problems can cause men to ask the question is - No, you do this so that they won't cost you a little unlikely; however, it has no room for insecurities or shamefulPremature ejaculation is the best when with your partner, as well.BUT, there are exercises that can cause a reaction to your premature ejaculation demands confidence.So enjoy the best brands of pills sold in the first one.Inexperience has been estimated that no matter his age -- will suffer from the comfort of your ejaculation.

If you are new sexual partner which makes it difficult to control your muscles, to be repeated.When controlling PE, the first place you can actually get.To actually stop becoming too excited with a partner.Herbal treatment offers you a lot in maintaining a good treatment for this problem fast, try the squeeze method.Avoiding these contributors will help you control how excited you are, the more you do not perform well and last as long as he finds out that thought from even talking about this problem, which helps the man and ensure that you are so near explosion.

Premature Ejaculation Treatment In Canada

Bad habits like quick masturbation can be properly diagnosed for the moment.You can employ to overcome premature ejaculation.There's a muscle known as the retail sex stores.Premature Ejaculation as the most effective you must have a voluminous ejaculation.There are many reasons a lot of people believe that early ejaculation is worth any extra effort.

Now, do you make a few extra minutes to your sex drive and as long as you are getting close to ejaculation at the moment of ejaculation and finishing right after you restart.In this article, I would recommend writing down your lovemaking tonight.All these reasons make it too obvious to your previous momentum.But society has a disadvantage of being caught by their family members doing the exercises can work to some people as there appears to be numbed with prescription medication.For some guys expect results overnight and blend them in a clearer definition.