#blame the men for not being able to be even SLIGHTLY decent and normal

[lqfiles]

instead of focusing on what member unfollowed him, or making up additional allegations, please just wish the best for the victim who had to endure his torment. please wish the best for all the women in south korea right now with the current uprise in SA crimes as well as chatrooms filled with nonconsensual content. wish the best for the underage girls who have also fallen victim to these crimes by other underaged men. the women who don’t have the courage to come forward and speak about this because of the society they live in.

[tintinwrites]

i have loved you too much | Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x Fem!Reader | Part One

A/N: You guys liked this idea I think so here you are with part one!! Please remember that Reader ends up pregnant from this one night stand and that’s the focus of this series.

Rating: 18+

Warning: This fic is going to deal with pregnancy in the future, please be aware! Naughty words. P in V sex. One-sided Frankie x Reader. Reader yells Frankie’s name I’m warning you bc I was embarrassed just writing it lol. Pining. Meaningless sex wrap it before you tap it please even if you won’t get pregnant protection is IMPORTANT.

Word count: 3,413, apparently!!

Summary: You’re in love with Frankie and it’s the day of his wedding to a woman who is not you. You and a lonely Santiago find solace in each other.

GIF credit: damerondjarin

Tags: Since this is a series, the taglist is OPEN for those who want to read more rather than me tagging everyone from my general taglist. I don’t want to tag people in a bunch of parts who might not be interested, so let me know if you are!

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

Frankie always made your heart flutter.

When you were fifteen and it was your first day of high school in a new town, and your first impression of dropping a bunch of papers in the hallway was not so embarrassing when a young boy in a backwards cap rushed to help you pick them up.

When you were seventeen and your prom date walked out with the girl he really wanted to take who happened to be your best friend of two years’ date, and he awkwardly asked if you wanted to dance to stop you from crying.

When you were eighteen and you were clinging onto him as he was about to go off to join the military, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek and promised to send you letters.

When you read every letter as you sat in your dorm, even as you entered your twenties and the letters became few and far between.

And then, when he came home when you were just shy of twenty-eight, you found out that Frankie could make your heart sink, too.

Like when you ran to hug him and he told you he wanted you to meet someone, and he introduced you to his fiancee.

Or when he announced the wedding date would be in a year and a half from that date.

There was also when you were twenty-nine and he asked you to be his ‘best man’, and asked you to help him pick a few things out.

And now here you were, a few days from thirty years old, and seeing Frankie all dressed up in a tux without a hat on his head made your heart flutter and sink at the same time.

How did he do that?

You were sitting on the arm of a chair that Benny was sitting in, your dress matching the ties and pocket squares that he, Frankie, and the other boys were wearing, as you watched a slightly nervous groom who wasn’t used to big celebrations look at himself in the mirror. You’d been introduced to the other men when they came into town to see Frankie and became fast friends with all of them.

“Why’d she have to choose bow ties? I can barely tie a normal tie,” he joked, trying for the third time to figure out how to tie the fabric.

Will seemed to be the only one who knew how to tie it and he gestured for Benny — who’d been fiddling with his for quite a bit now — to walk over so he could help him.

You stood after watching Frankie for a moment longer and stepped between him and the mirror, taking hold of the bowtie so you could do it up for him. “Can’t believe you’re all grown up.”

He chuckled, leaning over a bit as you tied the bow so he could glance at himself in the mirror again.

“I look like a dork, but you know...she’s worth it. Fuck, I love her.” He didn’t notice the way you looked down, fixing a piece of errant hair that fell from the style his wife-to-be wanted most.

“There you go, sweet Frankie.” It was a name you’d called him since you met him because you’d never met anyone as sweet and gentlemanly as him.

Still hadn’t.

And you’d never met anyone as handsome or as funny or…

“I’ve never worn one of these fuckin’ things,” Santiago grumbled, and you turned your attention to where he’d tied his bowtie into a knot.

“Where would you guys be without me and Will?” You bumped your hip into the man in question as you walked by him to go to Santi. “Come on, let me see it now.” You batted his hands away and grimaced at the tight knot, starting to pull at it delicately.

He watched you closely as you fixed the bowtie and, though your eyes were downcast to focus on the work at hand, he’d seen the tears in them. “You doing okay?”

You looked at him in bemusement for a moment and then you realized that he was rather blurry, and you quickly looked back down as his question made your tears threaten to spill.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just, uh...you know, weddings...so emotional…” You tried to laugh it off with a teary chuckle, hurrying to finish up with the tie so you could step away from him.

He stopped you before you could by pulling his pocket square out and holding it to you.

“Santi, that was perfectly folded!” You’d spent hours with Frankie’s almost wife, helping her with last minute decorations, and the pocket squares needed to be folded in the right design.

She was so nice and you couldn’t blame Frankie for falling for her.

“Sorry, fuck!” Santi hurriedly shoved it back into his breast pocket and did his best to make it look like it did before, but there was no time as the bride’s father knocked on the door to let you all know it was time to head down.

The wedding was being held entirely in a hotel so you left the room you’d booked for changing and headed down to where the ceremony was being held, hooking your arm through Santi’s despite being the best man as there were only two bridesmaids and Frankie requested that his two best friends walk in together.

A hand gently squeezed your side and you looked to see Frankie smiling at you nervously, before he walked down the aisle.

You didn’t think you would be crying again just from walking down the aisle, but all you could think as you looked at the man you loved was that his eyes were looking past you, waiting for the woman he loved.

That woman would never be you.

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

You were always able to tell when Frankie was embarrassed.

And, yes, he was a really sweet guy, but slow dancing in front of all the wedding guests was very clearly embarrassing him.

Though his eyes would flutter to his new wife’s face and he’d look all dreamy, a big, dopey smile forming on his lips at the mere sight of her.

She was beautiful and very kind, and she deserved someone as wonderful as Frankie.

You knew that.

You knew you were being ridiculous with your jealousy over this.

Yet there you sat, your chair turned away from the table so you could watch them, half-smiling and half-crying because they were beautiful and Frankie was officially never going to look at you like that.

A hand holding a glass of champagne blocked your vision and you sat up a little straighter, looking up to see Santi standing there with a gentle smile. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“Oh, yeah, weddings always make me emotional…” It was the same excuse as before as you took the glass from him and forced yourself not to down the whole drink in one sip.

“Mm,” he hummed like he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t press as he grabbed the vacant chair next to you and turned it around to sit.

The song ended and the couple kissed each other sweetly, and you were so occupied with staring at Frankie longingly that you didn’t notice Santi watching them with a bit of sadness in his eyes too.

Frankie smiled at you with more giddiness than you’d ever seen as he walked past, and you quickly reached up to swipe away the tear that fell down your cheek.

Not fast enough; Santi regarded you with realization and then sympathy.

He thought for a long moment, then drank the rest of his own glass of champagne and stood up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Listen, I, uh...I don’t dance, but you’re really pretty tonight and someone should dance with you.”

“Santi…” The song that was playing was slow and you knew he wasn’t the type, but then he was extending his hand to you and you reluctantly took hold of it.

“No complaining if I step on your toes.” He yanked you towards the dance floor and you laughed as you stumbled into him, letting him guide your hand to his shoulder as his moved to your waist.

There was something about swaying with him that was only working up your emotions more and you were breathing deeply, doing your best not to cry, but a few tears started to fall and Santi quickly pressed your head into him to hide it.

Why did it have to hurt so much? Why couldn’t you just not love him?

You really hoped Santi thought you were just sobbing against him because weddings made you cry.

You forced yourself to calm down so he wouldn’t read much into it, just closing your eyes and letting him lead you in a way that was surprisingly decent considering he didn’t seem like the type to dance.

“You okay? You need to step out of the room for a minute?”

“I’m fine. It’s just—”

“Weddings make you emotional?”

“—yep. Yeah.”

You swayed with him silently for a couple moments, your emotional mind with its unrequited love taking the time to really think of how kind it was for him to dance with you, of what he said when he asked you…

You pulled back to look at him. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“That I’m pretty tonight.”

“I mean, yeah, but you’re pretty every night.”

You stared at him for a moment and then you leaned forward to press your lips to his. He stayed still in shock for maybe two seconds before he was eagerly kissing you back, his hands lowering from your waist to your hips.

You blinked at him slowly when you pulled apart, tilting your head slightly. “Would you like to go up to the hotel room with me?”

“I would love that.” He let you take his hand, noticing that you look around as if to make sure no one was watching before you pulled him out of the reception hall.

The walk to the elevator was quiet, but you were on Santi the moment the doors closed, seeking comfort from your broken heart in his lips.

He could make you forget about this.

Even if it was just for ten minutes or so, you wouldn’t think about Frankie for those ten minutes.

You weren’t thinking of Frankie now.

Or how sweet he looked in his tux.

Or how you would never be his, never know what it was to make love to him or come home to him or have a family with him.

Fuck, you were thinking about him, so you quickly reached between Santi’s legs and cupped him through his pants.

“Shit, baby! We’re almost to the right floor and I’m not gonna be scolded again for using the emergency stop for this.” He smirked at your raised eyebrow, but pushed you into the hallway as the doors opened.

The hotel was the first door to the right of the elevator and you had the keycard on you since you were the ‘best man’, sliding it through before pushing open the door as the man behind you hurried you in.

He barely kicked the door shut and then you were kissing again, hands roaming all over each other in search of buttons and zippers to undress each other as fast as possible.

Your dress loosened and was falling off your shoulders when Santi pulled the zipper down, and he sneaked his hands under the fabric both to push it down and to grope your breasts.

You stepped out of your dress, only in panties now since the style didn’t really allow for a bra, and you pulled away with a teasing smile as Santi reached for your breasts with a groan, making your way towards the bed.

The clothes Frankie had worn to the hotel before changing into his tux were on the bed and you paused when your eyes landed on them, thinking of how it wasn’t him you were going to bed with and now it never would be.

Santi opened his mouth to ask you why you stopped, only to see the clothes and know immediately that this had something to do with the way you were staring at Frankie and crying at the reception; he was no idiot, and the more pieces he put together, the more he realized that you thought of him as more than a friend.

He could tell you would probably cry again if you looked at the clothes for too long, so he reached over and shoved them right off the bed.

You blinked, looked over at him, and then let out a laugh before wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his.

He wrapped one arm around you and let his fingers roam over your bare back as he guided you closer to the bed, watching you flop down when the mattress touched the back of your knees.

His bowtie was undone and his tux jacket was unbuttoned by you when you were entering the room, and he quickly took them both off and then started on unbuttoning his shirt. “Your tits are probably the nicest I’ve ever seen.”

“I can tell by just looking at your stupid, beautiful face that I’m going to enjoy the rest.” Your eyes followed his movements until he was letting his shirt fall off his shoulders, showing off a torso that was decently toned from his work.

“Wait until you meet Santiago Jr.” He was sexy enough that naming his penis didn’t make you want to run, laying there with lust in your eyes as you watched him open up his pants.

“Oh,” you gasped out when you saw him spring free, barely acknowledging his lack of underwear as you sat up to admire him.

You’d been with a few men, but you could admit that you’d never seen a dick quite as pleasing as Santi’s; dicks were not pretty and his was...well, it was nice, and you might’ve wanted it in your mouth if you weren’t just trying to forget somebody else.

“I showed you mine…” He cocked an eyebrow, stepping forward at the invitation of your opening legs and slowly running his hands up your thighs, teasing along the hem of your underwear before he started to tug it down.

He groaned at the sight of your pussy and immediately moved between your legs so he could kiss along your inner thighs, but you quickly grabbed onto his hair to pull his head up.

You just shook your head slightly because you wanted to be fucked even though the idea of Santi eating you out was tempting, and you gently guided him up until his hips were nestled between your legs.

Maybe you weren’t letting him use his mouth on you, but he still moved his hand so he could stroke over your clit, wanting to be certain you were wet enough to take him before he tried to put his cock inside you.

You were decently wet just from kissing and thinking about having sex with him, so he merely stroked you until you were squirming and moaning underneath him before he took hold of his cock.

He pressed his tip against your entrance and looked at you for your consent, slowly pushing forward when you nodded and letting his head drop with a moan at the way your cunt stretched to accommodate him. You took every fucking inch like you were made for him and he was able to enter you almost to the hilt, his hips jerking as he let out a low moan.

His cock filled you so well that you were moaning along with him, one of your hands moving to play with and tug at the hair at the nape of his neck which only turned him on more.

“Fuck,” he panted, laughing softly and leaning down to kiss you.

“I know.” You pressed a few kisses to his lips as you enjoyed being full and he enjoyed something so tight hugging around him, then you bucked your hips. “Move for me. Please, Santi.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” He pulled his hips back and then thrust forward again, doing that a few times as you moaned your approval before he found a rhythm that allowed him to rock into you smoothly.

Your legs tightened around his hips as he fucked into you, and you moved your hands so your fingers ran through his curls, ruffling them up a bit when you tugged on them.

This only made him groan and move even faster into you, the springs in the bed started to creak a bit the harder he fucked you.

He was grunting and panting and you were practically mewling each time he’d fuck against your G spot, but one of your hands slid down between your legs to touch yourself.

“Hell no.” He growled, shoving your hand away to replace it with his own so you wouldn’t have to pleasure yourself, rubbing circles on your clit.

Now as Santi was practically pounding into you and offering your clit the stimulation that you needed, your moans were growing into loud cries of ecstasy, your hands moving to press your nails into his shoulders.

Santi only moved his hips harder and faster as he sought out his own orgasm, grunting and groaning with every thrust back into your wet, tight pussy.

You knew that you were going to come by the way your clit tingled and your cunt fluttered around his cock and you could tell that he knew too as he moaned, his fingers keeping their movements on your clit consistent so he could push you into your climax.

You clenched down tight around him before your walls started pulsating on his cock and you screamed out, “Frankie!”

His hips stuttered and he stared down at you for a brief moment, but he didn’t want to embarrass you by making it awkward, and he knew he was just so you could forget about Frankie anyway, and he was so close to coming that he didn’t really care.

He continued thrusting into you as he lost a bit of that rhythm, pushing himself as far inside you as he could go as he came with a loud groan.

The only sound was your panting as he collapsed on top of you and nuzzled against your neck.

You tapped on his arm and he rolled off you, watching as you slid out of bed, redressing like his cum wasn’t still dripping out of you.

“Thanks, Santi. That was...really great,” you said as you pulled your panties on, then you walked over to the door where you put your dress on and stepped into your shoes before you paused, looking over your shoulder. “I’m sorry about the—”

“It’s fine.” He quickly waved off your apology for saying Frankie’s name, but it was still a little awkward, so he moved out of bed to redress himself.

He looked up when he heard the door open and shut, not certain what emotion it was that made him almost sad at how quick and detached that was; maybe the same emotion that made him look at Frankie and his wife with jealousy even though it was thanks to his bouncing from woman to woman that kept him from finding that happiness.

Not that it mattered, really, because he knew this was just a quick fuck and that you had eyes for somebody else, and he couldn’t really say he’d ever thought of you beyond friendship and sex. It wasn’t the fact that it was you that was making him sad, just the fact that this was all he was ever going to be.

You walked away from the hotel room with tears falling down your cheeks because you would never be with Frankie, and you might’ve forgotten about him for a few minutes, but you still said his name as you were having sex with another man.

You enjoyed yourself and you knew being distracted by Santi was only going to make you forget about longing for Frankie for those few minutes, and now you were right back to wanting him as much as you did before. Santi was just a moment of solace. Nothing more than that.

[victoria-daydreams]

Of Vices and Virtues

AN: This story is being crossposted from my Fanfiction account. I figured I might as well post it up here, there’s not enough black!oc X-Men fanfictions to be honest. If anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this story let me know.

Summary: Claudia Walker created the perfect facade she had a simple life, a simple job. There was nothing remarkable about her. Until two men offer her the chance to do something with her powers to stop a war looming on the horizon. In a fight between good and evil, loyalties strain and relationships grow. The world's changing for better and worse, and Claudia is right in the middle of it.

Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men just the OCs in the story.

Trigger warnings: none I can think of

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapter One: The Queen of Hearts

The music started up, with the sultry tango beats of "Whatever Lola Wants" by Sarah Vaughn. Her colorful voice lit like a spark in the air, and with it, the seductive lyrics of the song. The air seemed to crackle as I spun away from my dance partner, but a strong hand ripped me back into his grasp. With glittering eyes I pressed myself against him, his hand tenderly slipping over my back. We side-stepped as the singer continued to croon the audience with her hypnotic lyrics.

"Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets,"

"And silly man, Lola wants you," I sung to the man, who was completely entranced.

He stopped dancing to trace along my curvy figure slowly, extracting a long breath from my lips. He rejoined my hands smoothing his over my fingers. I crossed my left foot seductively in front of the right, while cocking my head mischievously to side. He smiled and placed his right hand dangerously low on my back. Before he could change direction again, I elevated my right foot, kicking it behind me, and situated behind his right leg, coquettishly hooking around his toned calf. I smirked, savoring the attention I was getting from my dance partner and the men who were watching me dance.

The man copied me by kicking his right leg between the middle of my two. He was daring, and he pressed my chest into his.

"I always get what I aim for. And your heart and soul is what I came for,"

The song finished up and I pulled away from him, creating space between us, "You may go now, I've had my fun," I instructed, trailing my index finger up over the man's tie.

He nodded and shuffled off of the dance floor. I made my way off of the dance floor, to order another drink. It was Saturday night, and the nightlife was at its height. I took my seat on the bar stool, signaling for the bartender to pour me another drink. I grabbed my clutch that was hiding underneath the chair and opened it, pulling out a compact mirror.

I looked at my reflection, my eyes were a brilliant almond shape, with dark brown irises that held knowledge and wisdom beyond my years. My lashes were long, dark, and thick. My lips were red with lipstick, but full and perfect. My wide nose curved in a delicate slope and I could clearly see my defined cheekbones. I combed my fingers through my hair making sure that every hair was in place and checking that my makeup hadn't smudged. I snapped my mirror shut and placed back it back into my purse, a sigh escaping me.

I had always known I was different since I was a child. I always felt out of place. I never blamed my parents for that. They loved me and they always did what they thought was the best for me. Well, at least what was good for them I suppose.

It was at the age of eighteen when I left my home, leaving my past in Pennsylvania far behind me. My memories from there were unpleasant, to say the least, and I needed to leave. To start a new life elsewhere, in central New York. Money was never a problem, I had a decent paying job as a psychologist's assistant at a private practice and a well furnished apartment. But I still found myself drinking away my sorrows. At this point in my life, I had to every reason to be happy, but I knew deep down I wasn't. There was always that loneliness, biting at my insides.

Someone cleared their throat next to my ear, something I wasn't all to fond of.

I glanced at them, raising an eyebrow, "Something I can do for you, stranger?" I asked, barely masking my annoyance.

He smiled, and I made a note to admire it. He was pretty handsome it, but he was overly cocky, I could tell by the way he made himself comfortable next to me, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the bar, and getting way too into my personal space. Not to mention he was easily in his mid-forties. I had just turned twenty-two

“Fucking creep, I thought.

"Michael, my name is Michael, Mike for short. You can help me by maybe letting me buy you a drink,"

I raised an eyebrow at this, he moved pretty fast. He must do this all the time to women he thought were drunk. Too bad for him, it took me more than a couple of drinks to have lost my common sense. Pushing my shoulder length, curled black hair out of my face. I faced him to reply as two other men approached, I didn't want any trouble, but the audacity of the man made my blood boil.

"And what do you expect in return for this drink?"

He smiled and leaned in closer to me, placing a hand on my thigh.

"The bastard thought he was in, didn't he?" I thought.

"Well, maybe just a friend," he smirked.

I rolled my eyes and smiled lightly at him, leaning in until our lips barely touched.

"With you? I'd rather watch the grass grow," I replied dryly, eying him up and down, as if he was something I'd find on the bottom of my shoe. "My mama didn't raise me to accept drinks from men I barely know, and my daddy taught me how to break a hand in seven different places, so remove it or I'll do it for you, Mike," I punctuated my sentence by grasping his middle finger in my fist and slowly bending it back, until I heard the pop that let me knew I dislocated it. "Next time I'll break it," I threatened.

"You bitch-" He began, but was interrupted mid-word by me.

"Run along, before I make you gouge out your eyes with a butter knife," I commanded boredly, putting effort into making my words go through the older man's head. The man walked away dutifully and I smirked. "There's a good boy," I cooed, turning away from him and took a sip of my vodka martini.

I heard a chuckle of laughter behind me, causing me to turn around again and examine the new arrivals behind me. The two men who I saw previously were now directly behind me, they appeared to be in their early thirties or late twenties. Despite being slightly tipsy, I couldn't help but gape a little when I properly looked at the two men.

The taller of the two had his thick and muscled arms crossing themselves in front of his broad chest. Clad in a short navy trench coat over a pair of long, black pants and a black turtleneck, his perfectly slicked back hair was the ultimate factor that completed the dangerous, rugged look he was probably going for. He looked like a mafia member, or something.

His icy blue eyes were fixed onto my wandering brown eyes unflinchingly, as a dark brow rose to mock me, to tell me that he had seen me appraising his impressive form. I raised my eyebrow and smirked saucily before I turned my gaze away from the taller man and shifted it to the other one, now standing in front of me.

Unlike Mr. Mafia Man and his dark attire, this man was significantly more professional looking. With his sharp pressed grey blazer jacket, a white button up shirt worn inside, the matching dark grey pants and his polished shoes, this guy pretty much screamed 'successful businessman'. He, along with the other man had sharp masculine features – sharp nose, strong, angular jaw line, and the clearest blue eyes I have ever seen. His eyes were so blue they resembled crystals, and were framed by his dark brows. His short, dark hair was tousled casually.

"Your quite clever," the shorter man complimented, with a thick British accent.

"So I've been told, but I've done nothing tonight that would warrant such a compliment," I replied, looking at the man as I lifted my glass to my lips, taking another sip of my martini.

"I think you have, actually. The song, 'Whatever Lola Wants', it fits you," the man remarked.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion, although I had an inkling to know where this was going, "How so?" I asked curiously, tilting my head slightly.

"Has anyone told you that you have an excellent mutation?" the shorter man asked abruptly, a small smile on his face.

"Mutation? You call every woman you meet a mutant?" I snorted, widening my eyes and let out a chuckle that matched my expression, disbelief. "Wow! This must be the night, where the worst pick-up lines are thrown at me," I drawled, before taking another sip of my drink. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but I am just me. I am normal," I laughed, and the taller man just huffed annoyed.

The shorter man smiled at me, then I noticed that his fingers were pressed onto his temple and he was still looking at me. I frowned at the slight nudge in my head. It didn't hurt, but it was very irritating. I focused on strengthening my shield against the nudges. I felt the nudge grow stronger, it was attacking my shield before it finally gave up and left.

The man looked mildly surprised and my mouth turned into a small frown. I really didn't know why he was surprised. Unless.

Mutant.

I glared angrily at him, "I don't know who the hell you are, but stay out of my head!" I snarled. "You have no right!"

I always thought I was alone, that quickly changed only a couple years ago, but ever since that encounter...well I'm uneasy around other mutants, my own mutation was something I kept to myself, only select people in my family knew about it even.

He put his hands up in surrender, "You're right, my apologies. But how? No one has ever been able to feel me before. Are you a telepath?" he asked, studying me with curiosity shining through his eyes.

"No, I'm just highly aware of myself and those around me," I answered with a slight growl, slamming my glass down on the counter nearly breaking it. "You have your tricks, I have mine," I added, glaring at him.

"My name is Charles Xavier," the man introduced in an irritatingly friendly tone. "And this," he said, gesturing to the other man, "Is Erik Lehnsherr. We're like you. We're different. And we need your help. We are-"

"Is there a private place where we could talk?" Erik interjected hastily in a strong German accent, looking mad and broody, as he looked from one side to the next.

I didn't particularly want to know what, if anything at all, they were to offer. I sat there in silent for a few seconds, first looking at Charles, then at Erik, then back at Charles. If this was a game, it certainly wasn't funny in the least.

"Why should I even try to talk to you two? The first thing Mr. Xavier says to me is that I have a mutation and then he follows that up by trying to intrude my thoughts," I argued. "It has been a long and trying night gentlemen, and I'm over it. So, I'm going to try and scavenge what little fun I can find," I concluded, flashing them a faux smile just as a saxophone moaned through the opening of "I Put a Spell on You" by Screamin' Jay Hawkins.

"What do you know, my favorite song," I added grinning, and shook my head beginning to walk away from the two men, only to be stopped by Erik gripping my arm tightly. I leveled him with an icy stare, "Let go of me right now, or I will make you feel pain that you thought was unimaginable," my voice low and threatening.

"Erik..." Charles called warningly.

Erik loosened his grip, freeing my arm slightly, but he made it clear I wasn't going anywhere, "We know you know exactly what you are, and we know what you're capable of. Stop playing coy with us," Erik stated coldly.

"Two strange white men walk into a bar, approach a black woman and accuses her of being a mutant. Forgive me, but you expect me not to find that a bit suspicious," I sassed, before yanking my arm completely out of his grip. I spotted a booth occupied by two men and I walked towards the two men, I gently grasped their chins and looked them in the eyes. "Due to your undying love for me, you two are going to give up your seats," I demanded, manipulating their desires so they reflected my own wishes.

"Of course," one man said eagerly, sliding out of his seat.

"Your wish is my command," the other man stated, getting out of his seat as well.

"Hmm, I know," I smiled, lightly laughing. "Now leave me be," I commanded, shooing them away and the two men nodded their heads and kissed the back of my hands before their departure.

I looked over to Erik and Charles, to see Erik roll his eyes in annoyance and huff before he whispered something to Charles, whose expression was unreadable. Charles and Erik sat in the seat across from me, Erik sat a stiff as a board while Charles seemed relaxed.

I interlocked my fingers together, "Ah, now that is how a gentlemen should behave. I think you should learn from them, Mr. Lehnsherr," I suggested my lips curving into a smirk.

Erik scowled at me, "You never told us your name," he remarked irritated.

"You never asked, Mr. Lehnsherr. Maybe if Mr. Xavier, greeted me properly, you would know," I countered, looking between the two men. "Although, something tells me that you two already know," I added, arching my brow and leaning forward.

"Miss...Claudia Walker, am I right?" Charles asked.

I quickly glanced at Erik and it seemed like he had one eye concentrated on me whilst the other was focused at the crowd in the club.

I focused back on Charles, "You would be correct," I replied, lapsing back into an easy lean. "How exactly did you two find me?" I asked curiously.

"Well, I was in Cerebro-" Charles began.

"Cerebro?" I interjected, scrunching my eyebrows together in confusion.

"It's a machine that helps me locate people like us," Charles explained, he was way too excited to answer my question. He was almost bubbling with excitement. "I was surprised to find you. Your signature was so strong, powerful, which intrigued me. I quickly got your coordinates and here we are," Charles finished happily.

"You certainly didn't make it easy," Erik mentioned, in a slight annoyed tone.

"Hardly, you two are here now aren't you?" I questioned, my tone was playful and I could tell that it was grating Erik's nerves.

"Really? So my eyes weren't playing tricks on me yesterday?" he questioned, as he leaned forward slightly.

"Depends on what you saw," I quipped, a small smile beginning to show.

"I saw you start that brawl. The way your hand curled and your eyes narrowed, you made that skinny man kick the fat, bald one in his groin," Erik remarked, his own mouth curving as he smirked. "You nearly got us entangled in that predicament," he added, looking at me with his piercing eyes.

Not looking away I smiled dangerously, "Yeah that was me," I admitted with a shrug. "I had an inkling that was someone was following me yesterday, I just didn't know it was you two. Whoops," I commented, my voice dripping with sarcasm and shrugged my shoulders again.

"Well, speaking of powers, you know my power. And we would very much like to know all about yours, Miss Walker," Charles started.

"Please, call me Claudia," I started. "I'll demonstrate my powers, but Mr. Grumpy over there has to show me his first," I proposed, flicking my chin out, motioning towards Erik.

Erik's eyes met were now fully focused on me again and I returned his stare.

Charles smiled and leaned forward, his elbows on the table, "Erik has the ability to manipulate metal,"

I narrowed my eyes at Erik and he glared at me in return. He would be very powerful, even with the tiniest bit of metal he would be able to kill someone with the flick of his hand.

"What's that old phrase again?" I asked aloud, tilting my head up as if I was pondering the question. "Oh, that's right. Seeing is believing," I finished, looking back at Erik, raising my eyebrow in challenge.

Erik raised his eyebrows as well, before focusing his eyes on the cutlery in front of him. Nothing happened for a while before they started shaking and eventually they lifted off the table. My eyebrows raised as I stared at the floating knives and forks.

"Do you believe now?" Erik asked, and I could see a ghost of a smirk.

"Well, I'll be damned," I gasped smirking, as I watched the utensils gracefully land back on the table.

"There you go," Erik said. "We showed you ours, now show us yours,"

I sat up in my seat and reached a hand across the table and turned it palm up, "Mr. Xavier, would you be so kind to give me your hand?" I asked.

"Call me Charles, please," Charles replied, sliding his own hand into mine without a moment's hesitation, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Erik grimace.

"You’re too trusting by half, Charles," Erik commented, shaking his head.

I closed my fingers gently around Charles', and slowly a broad, blissful smile stretched across his face as I channeled sensations of contentment into him.

"An empath," he breathed. "My, that's...mmm, that's lovely," Charles laughed, I smirked as I slid my hand back across the table, and Charles took a moment to compose himself.

"Want to see something else?" I asked grinning.

"Yes, please!" Charles exclaimed, grinning back excitedly.

I focused my gaze on one of the knives on table, and narrowed my eyes in concentration. A purple aura surrounded the knife as it raised itself off of the table and floated in mid-air and I maneuvered it to have the blade facing Erik as Charles watched, fascinated at the display I was putting on.

"Remarkable," Charles breathed.

"You’re telekinetic," Erik stated boredly, snatching the knife out of the air by the handle.

"I am," I replied, looking at Erik. "Now, you two are going to tell me why I've been performing tricks like I'm in some circus show," I demanded, glancing between the two men in front of me.

Charles laughed, "You have amazing gifts, a mutation, an ability. Erik and I are recruiting people to help us and in the process you get to learn how to control your powers,"

"Recruiting?" I asked confused, looking at them suspiciously. "For what?"

"That is what we're here to talk to you about," Charles said, sensing the sudden guarded tone in my voice. His eyes held mine in an intense stare. "A war is upon us, Claudia,"

"Yes, I know. The one between the Soviets and America, everyone knows that," I stated, now leaning back into my seat. My mind was reeling at where the conversation was going. Charles nodded firmly. "But what has that got to do with mutants? Or me, more specifically?"

"One of the agents at the CIA discovered a plot, the spark that lit the fire for the nuclear war," This time, it was Erik that had spoken. His soft yet gruff voice flooded into my ears with its tough resonance. "She had gone undercover to see one of the American Colonel's getting pressured into installing missiles into Turkey. That was the first step to angering the Soviets, and they are planning to retaliate. From what she had described, it had been a mutant who was threatening the Colonel,"

"A mutant?" I questioned. "But why?"

"We have no idea as of yet," Charles offered, leaning back into his seat as well.

It was obvious to me that Charles was troubled by the fact that a fellow mutant would want to start a war between two powerful nations.

"Well, do you know who the mastermind is behind all of this?" I asked again, raising an eyebrow.

"Sebastian Shaw," Erik spat, the venom clear in his words. A frown was etched deep into his forehead and his eyes were glaring at the coffee table, as though willing it to break under the hatred burning in his cold blue orbs.

By the way I could sense the hatred coming from Erik's emotions, he was an enemy. A big one.

"So that's why you're recruiting people? Like me?" I asked.

"We're planning to stop Shaw before he could escalate this conflict any further. He has got his own army of mutants to help him," Charles replied. "We need ours," Charles finished.

I ran my hand down my face, closing my eyes and breathed out deeply. This was not how I planned my night going, these two men walk up to me, telling me how they are like me and need my help to prevent World War III. This was a lot for me to take in, in such a short period of time. I mentally made two lists, negative and positive. Positive points: Learn to hone my powers, meet other people like me and this was probably the only chance for me to fit in and have something. Negative points: This could be a trap and if it wasn't a trap my powers could probably kill someone else.

"Give this a chance," Charles' voice urged gently, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I opened my eyes and staring at the two men, Charles and Erik staring back at me. Charles looked at me patiently and Erik looked like as though he had just proven something to Charles.

I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and took a deep breath, "While this sounds very dire and adventurous, I can't," I answered shaking my head. "Why should I come? I have a perfectly good life right now, with a decent paying job. I don't want to be involved in any war,"

"What?" Erik started, raising an eyebrow. "You don't just charm your way out of everything?" Erik asked mockingly.

I looked at Erik pointedly and glared, "No, actually. Having everything handed to you, makes life quite boring," I retorted.

"We've already spoken to your boss about it," Charles chimed in. "He's willing to grant you an indefinite period of leave from work. Or at least until the whole thing is over," he explained.

"He agreed?" I balked, thinking back to the measly, overweight doctor who had many a times refused to grant me my annual break, unless I used my powers on him.

Charles smiled, "The words 'government' and 'CIA' can be very convincing in situations such as these,"

"He must think me to be some criminal or spy now," I muttered more to myself, before scowling up at the two when I realized what they had done. "You guys move fast. What if I didn't want to join your little team?"

"You'll get your job back," Charles shrugged his shoulders. "Your boss wouldn't even remember meeting anyone by the names of Charles Xavier or Erik Lehnsherr," He tapped his fingers against his temple with a proud smile.

"How convenient, but even if I agree to join you, my life will never be the same. I will be ostracized even more than I already am," I reasoned.

"You don't think the public will accept you?" Charles questioned.

"Charles, please tell me that you’re not this naive?" I asked back. "I don't know how you folks do it across the sea. But Charles, look at me, I am a black woman in America, I'm barely accepted now and I live in the northern part of America. Why would they accept me? Black people are being murdered for the color of their skin since this country was founded. People in the past have been killed for being different. Just look what happened with the Jews and Hitler," I pointed out.

I could feel Erik's mind radiating with anger. I frowned and when I looked up and saw Erik's face. He looked like he stuck in between an inner battle with himself.

"I think humans will accept us sooner or later," Charles stated optimistically.

"Perhaps, that remains to be seen. They don't even accept humans with a different skin color," I countered. Momentarily, a silence fell over us before I spoke up and broke it. "Just to be clear, this isn't some sort of a trap? You two aren't trying to experiment on me?" I asked in a serious tone. "And the CIA and African-Americans do not have the best history, so promise me that they won't try to assassinate me and label me as some black radical," I added.

Charles looked slightly amused, but shook his head, "No, we won't hurt you and the CIA won't hurt you, I promise," Charles reassured, and I nodded then stood up.

I was probably going to regret this.

"I'll...help you guys," I began.

"Thank you, Claudia," Charles interjected gently.

"But, let's be clear that doesn't mean I trust you. We've only just met," I explained, glancing at the two of them.

"Completely understandable, Claudia," Charles replied, nodding his head.

"One more condition, if you want my help," I stated, and Erik scoffed and I glared at him.

"This should be interesting," Erik drawled.

I looked back at Charles, "You have to promise me, if I occasionally let my mental shield down, you will not look inside my mind," I demanded.

Charles looked quite stunned, "Of course. But can I ask, how can you block me out? You're not a telepath,"

My gaze hardened again, "I once knew someone who was,"

Chapter Two: Division X

[kayluh1915]

Ice Cream Cake

Pairing(s): Pedro Pascal/Female Reader

Words: 3,233

Warnings: None

Pedro (in collaboration with your mother) throws you a party for your birthday, but not for the reason you originally thought.

DISCLAIMER!

So, the beautiful Maggie ( @221bshrlocked ) was talking here on Tumblr about an age gap between reader and Pedro and I am HERE👏🏻FOR👏🏻 IT👏🏻 so expect more of this because she's got me hooked. Blame her... when she gets back from her break! I originally planned for this to be FILTHY, but no matter how many times I tried to work it in, it just didn't fit. So, have some fluff instead! Maybe next time, you filthy whores.

This works as a stand-alone, but I do consider it to be in the same universe as Beautiful People. It isn't necessary in the slightest to read that before this, but it is available if you would like to give it a read.

As always, comments are welcomed and encouraged.

You can also follow me on Twitter if you'd like. My life is boring, but I try.

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

It’s a warm summer evening. The frogs are croaking, the fireflies are starting to come out, and the crickets are singing as the sun began to dip over the horizon of the mountain. The perfect kind of evening for bonfires, camping, or even some late swimming. All great ways to spend a gorgeous evening. Far better than being pressed up against the glass of the local community center… in your opinion at least. However, for the sweaty fangirls, the chance of even getting a glimpse of your boyfriend was by far the better option.

“Such heathens.” Your mamaw said, rolling her eyes at the crowd outside. “They should show some dignity.”

“You were young too, Mom. Cut’em a break.” You Mom replied, carrying a plate of homemade peanut butter rolls.

“Well, I’d like to think I’d have more respect than to stare and lust over a local's boyfriend on her birthday, famous or not. He ain’t even here yet for cryin’ out loud!” You reached for one of the treats while your Mom was occupied, quickly stuffing it in your mouth. It was just as delicious as always.

“You should call for more security. If they’re like this when the man ain’t even here, I’d hate to see em’ when he does. Someone’s gonna get hurt.” Your Mom thought for a moment, looking back to the crowd outside that had somehow doubled in just that short amount of time alone.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll get on the phone and let the- Honey, don’t eat all of your aunt Judy’s PB rolls!” Your Mom scolded you once she noticed your stuffed cheeks.

“I dunno what you’re talking about.” You replied, mouth still full.

“It’s the bee’s birthday, Annie. Leave er’lone.”

“Then you can explain to the guests why there’s no rolls left.” The door suddenly opened, the overwhelming chatter from outside piercing the otherwise calm atmosphere of the community center and startling the three of you. You worried for a split second that maybe one of the fangirls had gone rouge and got past the guards or that one of the guests arrived way too early, but it was just your best friend, Emily… thank God.

“Damn, you’d think there was a celebrity nearby or something.” She joked, pointing her thumb back towards the door.

“There isn’t.” Emily’s smirk morphed into pure confusion.

“Whaddya mean? I thought he was supposed to be here around four?”

“Last second table read. Set him back a few hours.” She nodded in understanding, stealing one of the peanut butter rolls from the plate your mom was still carrying. She was about to protest but decided to take the damn treats into the ballroom so they would quit getting swiped in the first place. Even then she had your brother to worry about.

“Well, come on. We gotta go get you all dolled up for your man.” You looked towards the crowd, the mere idea of walking past all of those people green with envy making you nervous. Security guards or not.

“W-we can’t escape out of the back, can we?”

“Nope, they’re lined up back there too. I tired.” You threw your head back with a groan.

“Fuck.”

“There’s security out there, honey. They’ll protect you.” You mamaw said.

“Yeah, c’mon. You don’t wanna start your party in a ratty t-shirt and some jeans, do you?”

Honestly, you didn’t care.

When Pedro asked you what you wanted to do for your 25th birthday, you answered with the what you normally did. Stay home, do nothing, treat yourself to an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen, and maybe have Emily come over.

“When’s the last time you’ve done something special for your birthday?” He’d asked.

‘It’s been years. I’m not the party type and I never have the money to do what I actually want. Even a DQ cake is a decent amount of cash for me.” He paused for a moment, obviously thinking.

“... What have you actually wanted to do?” You immediately knew what he was up to.

“Nope! Don’t even think about it! It’s way too much money. Seriously, a DQ cake at home with you is more than enough.” It wasn’t his idea of spoiling you on your birthday, but he agreed. If that’s really what you wanted, then he’d give it to you. Whether you knew it or not, he’d give you the world if he could.

When you and Pedro visited your mother one weekend, she had asked you the same question. Before you could get out the answer you had given Pedro, she'd already replied with her own.

“You know, you haven’t had a proper party in years. We should throw you one.” You tried again to intervene, but Pedro stepped in.

“I’ll help in any way I can. Mi Abeja deserves something special for her birthday.”

So much for your private DQ cake celebration.

You weren’t ungrateful or anything. In fact, you really didn’t mind it. A day of dancing and good food sounded great and you were thankful to have someone like Pedro that was able to give you that. However, seeing all these people stepping on each other just to get one glimpse of the man you love made you long for that DQ cake.

“Pedro’s tee and jeans are fine.” You answered, Emily clicking her tongue at you and grabbing ahold of your arm. She dragged you towards the door and waved to your Mamaw.

“Be back in about two hours.”

Thankfully, you made it to Emily’s car without a scratch, taking in a huge deep breath once you shut the passenger door.

You wanted to choke her.

____________________

Your hairstylist released the last lock of your hair from the curling wand with a whistle.

“Lookin’ good, cutie! Pedro’s gonna faint when he sees you.” She exclaimed, spinning you around so you could take a look at your freshly styled hair. You cupped the curls framing your face and shook it out a little. Not even you could deny how much you loved being dolled up even if it hadn’t been your idea.

“Thanks, Jo. I love it.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” You got up from the chair and walked over to your couch, picking up the gift box Pedro had given you last week. He’d told you to wear it to your party, but not to open it until then.

“Well, open it! Let’s see what he picked out for you.” Emily exclaimed, obviously more excited about it than you were. Even Jo was peeking over as she got her stuff together.

You pulled the ribbon until it fell slack, placing the box back down on your couch to take the lid off. After fishing through a sea of tissue paper, you finally saw it. A black knee-length dress decorated with beautiful roses and daisies and a pair of black heels that had their own blossom.

“Ooooo! How pretty!” Jo cooed, adorning the dress.

“Man, he has a good eye,” Emily added. “That’s beautiful.” You looked over at her with a crooked eyebrow.

“Did you think he couldn’t match colors or something?”

“No, I’m just saying that men usually suck at stuff like this, but he did great.”

After everything was done, you stepped in front of your full-body mirror to take a look at yourself. You hated to admit it, but you actually looked pretty good. Your hair was curled and framed your face nicely as the dress Pedro had got you hugged your body perfectly. You even liked the heels which was a shock. You hated heels, but he had managed to find a pair that weren’t that tall so your feet wouldn’t hurt. It was a very sweet gesture, but you'd still be taking them off before the night was over.

“Shit!” Emily cursed. “Yeah you’re beautiful bitch, we gotta go. You’re going to be late for your own party!” You got back in her car as fast as possible, the heels slowing you down slightly. Despite that, you managed to make it in time, the security guards redirecting you to the upstairs entrance.

“Pedro’s here and they’ve gone wild. You’ll have to go in where the guests come through. There's more of us up there.” Emily complained mildly about having to park farther than she’d like, but you weren’t really paying much attention to her. Since the guard had told you that your boyfriend was finally here, the only thing you could really focus on was getting to him.

You made your way down the stairs slowly but as fast as possible, trying to avoid using the handrails since the decorators had worked so hard on making them look nice. Suddenly, you heard the crowd gathered outside scream, distracting you from your slow descent. You’re glad they did because at the bottom of the staircase stood the man you couldn’t wait to get to, everything but him going out of focus.

He was wearing a maroon button-down tucked into a pair of black dress pants. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing his toned forearms as the black tie sat crooked around his neck. His hair was also slicked back, a few curls defying the gel and coming down to rest on his forehead. His brown eyes were crinkled, his blinding smile causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach almost as much as the trimmed facial hair that framed his jawline.

You continued to make your way down, now using the previously avoided handrails so you could go faster. When you got to the last two steps, he held his hand out for you to take. You gladly did, his calloused hand so large and warm compared to yours. You giggled when the dork pressed a light kiss to your knuckle.

“Are you my Jack for the night?” You teased, earning a snorted laugh from him.

“Nah. Just always wanted to do that. Didn’t think I’d get my chance tonight.” He made sure you came down the last two steps safely, you immediately wrapping your arms around him as soon as your heels touched the tiled floor. You laid your head on his shoulder with a content sigh, Pedro returning the hug as soon as you initiated it, his strong arms holding you tight as he pressed tender kisses to your temple.

“Missed you...” You said quietly, loud enough only for him to hear.

He parted with you ever so slightly to kiss you properly, his lips melding with yours so perfectly that you never wanted to come up for air.

“Alright, alright, break it up you two!” Your dad said, the only thing that saved you from being lost in his lips for the rest of the evening. “C’mon, everyone’s been waitin’ to see ya.” You looked back up at Pedro, smiling wide as soon as you saw that he was staring.

“Stop it.” You laugh. He laughs too, pressing another kiss to the side of your forehead.

“I can’t help it. Mi Abeja looks so pretty tonight.” You reached up to his tie to fix it for him, your eyes focusing on the poorly tied knot that he’d obviously done himself.

“Save it. We have to go greet the family before they blow a gasket.” You said, patting his chest once his tie was finished. He stood next to you and put his hand on the small of your back, gesturing towards the ballroom with his free one.

“Lead the way, honey.”

____________________

The party was well underway by now, the bass of the music thumping hard in your chest as you ate your second piece of birthday cake. It was no DQ ice cream cake, but you couldn’t deny that your aunt Judy could bake.

After the cake was cut, the DJ started playing music, inviting everyone out to the dancefloor. Pedro asked if you wanted to go dance but you turned him down.

“Not yet. I’ll join you once I get my fix on cake.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he left to join your brother and a few of your cousins who were already “cutting the rug” you guessed.

You watched as Pedro loosened up, him and your brother dancing so rediculously that you couldn't help but laugh.

Whether Pedro wanted to believe it or not, he was quickly becoming a Hollywood golden boy. He more than deserved it, but the pressure of it all got to him sometimes and you were ecstatic to see him relaxed for a change.

He’d long discarded his tie, the hair gel barely holding back his curls that started to drape over his eyes that were crinkled up from smiling.

The song they were dancing to ended with one last thud from the bass, the DJ grabbing the mic as soon as it stopped.

“Alright folks, now we’re going to sllooww things down to allow the birthday girl to share a special dance with her love.” You looked up mid-bite of cake, not expecting to be singled out like that.

Pedro walked over to you, offering his hand as the slow song began to play. You quickly swallowed the bite of cake and wiped your mouth off with a napkin, placing your hand in his and allowing him to lead you to the dance floor.

He placed his large hands on your hips, pulling you close and laying his forehead atop of yours as your snaked your arms around his neck. You swayed with him for a bit, the flash of your mom’s camera vaguely registering in your mind, but you didn’t care. It all fades to nothing when you’re with him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said, his mocha gaze full of adoration when he lifted his head away to look at you.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Even for an old man?” You snickered.

“So nice that any other old man could never compare.” He breathed a laugh through his nose, his crooked smile doing things to you.

You continued to sway to the song, Pedro spinning you around a few times before you settled back into your rhythm. You laid your head on his shoulder after a bit, allowing him to fully take the lead. One of his hands left your hip to come up and hold the back of your head as he pressed gentle pecks atop your head.

“I love you so much.” You smiled on his shoulder, one of your own hands tangling into his dark curls.

“I love you too.”

____________________

Later that night, you and Pedro laid quietly on your bed, his arms tightly wrapped around you as you watched TV together. It was super late and you both were exhausted, but neither of you wanted to sleep. You were quickly losing the battle, however. Your eyes starting to droop as Pedro played with your hair.

“Don’t tell me you’re tapping out already.” He teased, his voice pulling you from the edge.

“M’sorry. S’been a long day.” You felt his chest vibrate with a chuckle, his mustache tickling your cheek as he pressed a kiss to it.

“I had one more gift for you, but I guess it can wait until morning.” Despite how tired you were, you were curious as to what he could have up his sleeve and couldn't resist looking at him over your shoulder.

“What is it?” He laughed.

“Awake now, are we?” He teased, rising up from the sheets with you and getting up. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

It took him longer than you expected and he made quite a bit of noise, but it was well worth it.

He watched your eyes light up with happiness as soon as your gaze landed on the piece of DQ ice cream cake he was holding in his right hand, a single lit candle atop of it. He was also holding a blue gift box with a white bow, but you were more focused on the frozen treat at the moment.

“Aww, Pedro…” You cooed as he set the cake down in front of you with a kiss.

“Happy birthday, my sweet Abeja.” You blew the candle out and licked the ice cream off the bottom, setting it aside and digging into the slice. You groaned at the taste, the mattress shifting as Pedro sat back down next to you.

“Good?” You nodded.

“It’s DQ ice cream cake. How could it be bad?” He let you enjoy your treat, your attention suddenly shifting to the gift box he’d sat down. You pointed your fork at it.

“What’s that?” You asked with your mouthful. Pedro looked to the box and picked it up, gesturing for you to take it.

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” You gave him shifty eyes, setting your fork down to take the box out of his hands. You took the bow off and set it aside, lifting the lid off the box quickly. You froze when you saw what was inside.

Laying atop white tissue paper sat your passport and a Mickey Mouse ear hat. You slowly took the hat into your hands, only just now noticing the sticky note that was stuck on the other side. It read:

“To DisneyWorld we will go for your special day, to create memories that will forever stay.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until Pedro reached up to wipe a tear off of your cheek.

“How… how did yo-”

“I asked your mom. She said that you’ve always wanted to spend your birthday at Disney but never had the money. I knew you wouldn’t go if I told you about it ahead of time, so your Mom and I worked together to throw you a party so you wouldn’t be suspicious.”

There was no way you could accept something this huge from him. It had to cost him a fortune… weeks of his schedule.

“What ab-”

“Shhh.” He shushed. “None of that. You deserve this, Abeja. You work so hard and barely get anything. Please, let me spoil you just this once.” You wanted to turn it down, the guilt of not helping him pay for it eating you up. Though you knew he was under contract with Disney in the first place and more than had enough money to pay for it, you still didn't want him to think that you were trying to mooch.

However, the look of pure nervousness and adoration on his face melted all of that guilt away.

You sat the hat down and reached for him, hugging him tightly as more tears fell down your cheeks.

“...Thank you.” Pedro let out a breath of air you didn’t know he was holding, his arms hugging you back tenfold.

“No amount of money is worth more than this. I promise you that, honey. You’re worth so much more.”

You ended up falling asleep wrapped in his embrace, the day finally catching up with you. Pedro gently laid down, making sure not to wake you as he situated you to lay atop his chest while he laid on his back. You stirred as he pulled the blanket over the both of you, but didn’t rouse any more after that.

He reached over and turned the TV off with the remote and switched off your lamp, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before drifting off right behind you.

[doyelikehaggis]

it’s time for the dreaded s6 finale emotions

*strong regret in projecting onto ryan as much as i do because this episode h u r t s*

tyler being the one to invite ryan along?? g a e

“can’t send a man to his doom without getting drunk first” he’s trying so hard to fit in. poor bastard. and not calling the others out for excluding him? you can just tell he’s trying so hard not to ruin it for everyone, and nobody even gives a shit. and then of course he eventually snaps, he’s just spent over an hour having to watch everyone have a great time and forget about him, and then alex suddenly expects him to have bought mike a gift, and they fucking tell him to stop being so selfish and god those fucking assholes

god the conversation where may-li tells charlie about her grandad. it’s so beautifully acted, emily burnett sells the denial perfectly, it just,, ow

this episode is hard to watch when you have really strong empathy and project onto both ryan and charlie. h e l p

wow charlie really just delivered a baby in a car in the middle of the woods huh. i keep forgetting how absolutely badass that is

you know what absolutely kills me is the vague suicide subtext to ryan running away. take that goddamn phone conversation out of context and that’s what it is and that’s the worst part of all of this. and chloe saying that he’s left a note and that “i think he’s really gone for good”. o u c h

the fact that NOBODY EVEN NOTICES RYAN’S GONE EXCEPT MIKE AND CHLOE. even tyler doesn’t fucking notice. and then everyone cares more that mike’s gone to find him than that ryan even left in the first place. but we’re not meant to think about that because tracy’s here and everything’s absolutely fine right. this episode is murdering me can you tell

lily complaining about men on that facebook post. bit fruity of her, i must say *‘a day in the past’ flashbacks*

i havent watched my mum tracy beaker yet but i really need answers on how it fits timeline-wise into the tsotb/tbr/tdg canon

the fact that chloe isn’t even wrong when she says everyone would hate ryan even more if they found out mike isn’t there ‘because of him’ (read: because he quite literally had a breakdown and ran away and mike, being the only decent person in this goddamn show, went after him)

ah yes tracy, care worker of the year, really just said ‘your problems don’t fucking matter, forget that anything’s wrong because mike is getting married’. i love tracy but wow that is not the thing you say in this circumstance and the only reason it worked was because he felt bad about the cake and whatnot

this episode has such an all over the place tone. they really just went from mike freaking out to fiona figuring out he’s gone to a damn slo-mo shot of tracy and mike on a bike while ryan sprints behind them.

oh my god i forgot bailey was in this episode!! i hate him (affectionate)

this goddamn episode is so full of emotions i almost threw up oops. anyway it absolutely kills me that ryan looks like he’s about to cry pretty much the entire time. that poor kid. and then chloe really just pulls a tee and apparently loses all empathy towards him huh. love chloe but wow

i don’t think we get a chance to read what ryan wrote in that note? but i kinda wish we did. could’ve given some extra insight into everything

i have no idea if any of this is coherent, or how much of it is an actual analysis and how much is me projecting but oh well, this episode(s) is a fucking emotional trainwreck, what can you do

Oh god. I'm not prepared.

*valid regret to have, that sad queer kid with anger issues and insecurities experience hurts real bad*

Yes!! Once again proving that Tyler is the only one in the DG who actually cared about Ryan and wanted to be around him. He was pissed at Alex for not inviting Ryan like he was initally supposed to, and then took it upon himself to make Ryan feel included anyway.

That scene really pisses me off, because Alex really is going after him. You can tell, he won't let Ryan make a single joke without trying to be snarky about it, and then he purposefully tries to humiliate Ryan because he knows that Ryan couldn't possibly have known to bring a gift.

Oh yeah, I can barely ever rewatch the first part of the wedding for all of these reasons, but especially for Charlie finding out about her grandad. Emily really is way too good of an actor, that's why it's so painful.

I relate way too much to the strong empathy and projection, that shit hurts so bad.

Yeah!! Charlie did that!! Honestly, credit to her because I would not have been as calm as she was on a normal day if I had to deliver a baby in a car in the middle of nowhere, never mind after everything she had been through that day.

Okay, so you found a way to make Ryan's whole storyline of those episodes hurt way more than it already did. Thanks for that. But you are right, it does have that vague subtext to it. If this wasn't a children's show, I would've actually been worried that's where they were going to go with his storyline.

It does suck that nobody really noticed or cared that Ryan wasn't there. I wish even Tyler had shown a bit more concern, but I suppose they've only got enough time in an episode for so much.

That was definitely one of Lily's fruitiest moments, and that's saying a lot because of the aforementioned "a day in the past" flashbacks. Honestly, all of her scenes with Carmen and some with Tee are always fruity, there's nothing else to it.

Okay, so, I can kind of answer that one. My Mum Tracy Beaker definitely carries on from The Story of Tracy Beaker since it involves clips of it when Tracy sees Justine. However, it's only really connected to tbr/tdg canon through vague hints. Like, Tracy has a published book called "Who Cares?" and there's a mention of her being an ex careworker, and she wears a "T" necklace but it's slightly different from the one that she wears in the wedding episode. So, we know there are subtle references to TBR through these background details that are really just glossed over. There is a weird little moment when Tracy's daughter tells Justine that Tracy wrote a book, but Justine should already know that considering it was a big part of their reunion in Tracy Beaker Returns. At best, we can at least assume that everything that happened in TBR is canon for My Mum Tracy Beaker. I feel like, if we want to be able to make the timeline for the wedding add up with My Mum Tracy Beaker, we'd have to assume that Tracy hadn't already had Jess during the wedding. Since the wedding takes place around 2018, and Jess is 10, My Mum Tracy Beaker would have to be set in 2028 at the very least, and that would have to mean that Tracy had Jess the same year as the wedding. Either that, or she did already have Jess but just... never mentioned her because she was staying with Cam.

It really does kill me that Chloe was right about that, because you'd think at least some of them would have some sort of sympathy for Ryan. I wish Tyler did. Honestly, he had a genuine breakdown and ran away, and no one cared except Mike. Great family they are.

Yeah, that was not Tracy's best moment, but... that's just Tracy. She doesn't think, she acts on what she believes to be the best solution in that very moment. She was never exactly an aware winning care worker in all fairness skjdashd but Ryan definitely needed to hear something other than that.

I could barely be sad or stress during that episode specifically because of how chaotic it was, and ESPECIALLY because of that slow-mo that had no right being so damn hilarious.

SHFKDASJDLK "I hate him (affectionate)" well at least I'm glad the (affectionate) is there lmao. But I was screaming when I realized Baily (and Liam) were there, I was so happy!!

Oh yeah, Ryan looked so upset, he was absolutely blaming himself so badly. There was no need for Chloe to come in there "wish you'd run away for real" like fuck off. I love her. But fuck off.

I don't recall actually seeing the contents of the note now that you mention it.

Yeah, don't worry, I'm not sure most of my reply to it is coherent either. But those are episodes are some of the most fun to analyse because Drama and Angst.

[heavenlysan]

Cruel Love [4]

Mafialeader!San | Detective!Reader | Soulmates | Choi San x female reader | NSFW | Explicit language? |

Words: 2,494

Chapters:

1 | 2 | 3

(Y/N's POV)

Through all my life I've been always treated like garbage but tonight… what a fucking night. What a fucking exhausting ugly night. I was kicked in the ribs and slapped on the face I haven't felt so humiliated in a long time if this whole fake identity is gonna keep me feeling this way I don't know what I'm gonna do and for how long I'll be able to keep it, I admit that it could've been worse but it wasn't and that was thanks to Choi San.

At least the way back home was in complete silence this man Wooyoung didn't say much he just gave me his jacket to cover my legs and after dropping me off at home he just waved goodbye and disappeared.

I decided to take a long bath and a shower after that mess. Being around men and being treated like meat and just like shit in general definitely made me upset. But then there was Choi San, his behaviour confused completely an old man got shot by him and then the same old man apologised to him and then the owner he called him Mister and I swear his hold felt shaky he was scared of him too. But to me he was a completely different man he didn't seem scary he was… a gentleman.

My old phone started ringing I tried to reach for it as it kept ringing and vibrating but when I finally got it whoever was calling hung up. I looked at the screen to see who it was. It was Irene. But I didn't call her back because I didn't feel like talking to people right now the exhaustion was draining me completely and I just wanted to sleep.

I dropped on the bed to try to sleep but the only thing on my head was Choi San. If he is a cold blooded murderer the big head of a Mafia and a most wanted why was he so nice and even charming? And why was he so nice to me.

As I kept moving and rolling on my bed to find a good position to sleep I abruptly got up remembering that I forgot to put on all the artefacts that were given to me to record my first meeting with Choi San. I fucked up big time. If I didn't die at the bar I'm surely going to die when the moment to give all my reports to Irene comes.

"You think somebody is going to love you? You really think that? just look at you you're nothing an animal has more value than you do. You're ugly and you don't behave like a normal human being. If someone ever shows affection to you is only gonna be out of pity." I look around and I'm in a big empty room the lights are pretty dim and across the room there's that man laughing hysterically at me, the room feels extremely cold and I'm shivering and crying, as I try to hug myself to make myself warmer I realise that I'm tied up in chair. Why? "y/n you're still pretty naive if you could only be smart enough people would consider adopting you" he laughs "But you're ugly and stupid and that's why you're still here and you'll always be here" The lights go off but they come back on in seconds but now I'm no longer tied up and the man is now dead in front of me. And then I hear in the distance "RUN"

I wake up abruptly when I hear there's someone knocking on the door. I get up to open the door and before opening I check the clock it's 10am? When did I sleep so much?

I look through the peephole and I fall on my butt. What is he doing here? He knocks harder after the noise I made by falling down and I'm unable to comprehend what's going on why is Choi San at my door?

"I'm coming" I run to hide all the papers and my old phone under the mattress making sure this place doesn't look like a detective is living here. And I try to look a little bit decent before opening the door.

I shyly open the door "Hey"

He looks so well dressed he's wearing all black and his shirt is unbuttoned just enough to expose a little bit of chest.

"Hi" He says with a smile on his face, "I'm sorry, I hope you don't mind, Wooyoung told me where you live, I just wanted to make sure you were alright"

"Oh you didn't have to, everything's alright after he dropped me off I just went to sleep" I say awkwardly and then I remember that we're still on the door "Shit I'm sorry you wanna come in? I can make you some coffee" He smiles again and just enters.

"You have a nice place" he says and I get so embarrassed because all my normal clothes and my fake ones are all scattered around.

"I'm sorry for the mess let's stay in the kitchen please"

I'm doing a terrible job I'm supposed to be a confident and sexy woman but instead I'm being my normal awkward self, he's gonna find out that I'm a detective and he's most likely going to kill me.

"Don't worry about that princess I don't mind, it's making you blush and you look adorable"

I don't even want to answer that "So how do you like your coffee?"

"Black is alright" He sits and stares at me.

I try to analyze him he's staring at me but it's not the way my boss stares at me or they way Dylan does or the way any other man has ever stared at me. His stare feels… Kind and just different and Choi San keeps confusing me. I snap back when I get embarrassed and turn around breaking our staring contest.

"By the way, it's good that you're here your friend gave me a jacket last night you can take it with you" I say still not looking at him.

"That was my jacket, before you got on your car I gave it to him for you, your dress looked like it was making you uncomfortable"

"Oh" I genuinely don't know how to keep the conversation going I turn around to face him and he smiles really big… he has dimples, beautiful ones "Thanks and thanks for everything last night" I give him his coffee and I sit down next to him.

He sips the coffee and looks back at me "You were new right?"

"Yeah it was my first day there"

"No no I mean new as a…" He tries to find a better word than prostitute.

"A prostitute"

"A sex worker"

"It's the same thing but yes I'm new why?" I try to figure out where this is going to.

"It's nothing princess" He smiles and flips back his hair "I just knew it the moment I saw you"

And then I laugh not so much since I don't want to offend him "Then I probably looked lost"

"Not exactly princess you looked fierce like you weren't up to let anyone touch you and if someone even dared to you'd probably jump on them, you have this gaze that amazed me"

I look at him almost confused and lost. Choi San what do you mean with that and why did you have to appear here. I know that he's lying just to make me feel better about myself If I had looked fierce like he said nobody would've touch me but two men did.

"But anyways, another reason I'm here is because last night I paid for your services" He looks at me and I freeze completely he wants to have sex? As in right now? If he tries something what am I gonna do? I realise that I probably look like a fool when he starts laughing.

"What things are you imagining in your head? I'm not here to have sex princess I want to take you out for dinner"

"Dinner?"

"Yes" He puts a single piece of my hair behind my ear.

He is so close I can see every detail of his face he has a mole close to his eye and I must admit Choi San is extremely good looking and I kind of want to punch him in the face for that nobody should be that handsome.

"I'll go" I say and he opens his eyes not believing what I just said I give him a shy smile and he does the same.

He finishes his coffee and gets up to the door "I'll come back tonight to pick you up at 7pm" he gently holds my chin and I thoughtlessly hold my breath. "I'll see you later princess" And then he walks away.

I close the door and I drop on the floor holding my legs astonished not knowing what just happened confused it's not even the word to describe what I'm feeling right now what am I even feeling right now?

My old phone starts ringing and it brings me back to this dimension.

"Hello?"

"Miss y/ln, it's Irene I called you yesterday but there was no answer everything went alright? We don't expect you to meet Choi San right away that would be impossible he's definitely unreachable but we'll get ther…"

"I met him" There's a silence on the phone

"You what? You recorded everything right? That's crucial for this investigation"

Fuck

"No I didn't" I pause and I close my eyes with fear "I forgot to put on the mic"

There's another silence. She's pissed.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that, today you're completely free I want an extremely detailed report I told you this is important and you're not in the place to fuck this up"

"I'm actually not free I'm seeing him again tonight"

"That is not possible we've been trying to get slightly close to him for the last 2 years and you got this close in one night? There is no way" She pauses "You had sex with him didn't you? After all you're pretending to be a prostitute I guess you played too well your new role"

Her words are hurtful and I take a moment to absorb what she just said.

"Okay I want the report tomorrow morning" Before I speak she ends the call.

No I did not have sex with him you stupid bitch. "you played too well your new role" that was disrespectful and so unprofessional just because she has a higher position than I do more money than I do and more in general than I do doesn't give her the right to talk to me like this.

I get in the shower and after that I quickly grab something to eat if I'm gonna be busy with Choi San and I have to send my report in the morning I need to start writing now.

Choi San

…

Hours pass and absolutely nothing comes to my mind what should I even write? Choi San is a charming man that respects women? They would laugh at me. I can't write about him shooting a man it would be just like the people that tried to report him we have no evidence without evidence we're back to zero I don't know who's the man that he shot to have him as the victim so that's not really an option besides that man looked frightened he didn't even want to make eye contact with Choi San I'm pretty sure he would deny everything or blame someone else.

There's a knock on the door is that him? No way it's still too early and I look like trash. I see through the peephole and there's a delivery guy. He probably has the wrong address but I open the door anyway.

"Hello package for y/n" Says the delivery man.

What?

"You have the wrong y/n then, I didn't order it"

"No ma'am I got specific instructions to send it exactly here just sign here please" Oh shit I don't have a fake signature, I improvise one and the man gives me a big red box I say thanks and I close the door.

I've watched a lot of movies and I just know that this is from him but this can't be good a mysterious box out of the blue is a big red flag, he totally found out about the real me and he probably sent a snake, a deadly one to kill me. I stare for too long at the box across the room he was too nice to be real it was just a facade.

After over thinking for too long I grow a pair and I slowly open the box there's thin paper covering whatever it's inside but thankfully there's no sign of a snake I remove all the paper. It's a dress and at the bottom of the box there's a card.

Just a little something for tonight you can wear this or whatever you want, I know you'll look beautiful regardless of what you choose

San

Wait… I take a few steps back not believing what I'm seeing. I jump on the bed and I put a pillow on my face and I let out a big and loud scream. First of all what the fuck.

I get up again and I hold the dress pressed against my body in front of a mirror it's a beautiful tight black dress with long sleeves and exposed shoulders. It's so pretty and it isn't too short and that's such a relief it's the perfect length for me.

It's 6pm he'll be here in an hour so I have to hurry up. I put on the dress and must say I don't look bad at all it fits so well it's as if it was designed just for me I check tutorials on the Internet to do my makeup no the one I'd usually wear to work or any other simple day but something more fitting to the occasion. I look at myself in the mirror I feel weird in all this since I don't think I've ever looked like this but I feel confident and happy with myself.

I look up to the clock and I apparently took too much time on my appearance it's almost 7pm and he'll be here any moment now. I run back to the room opening the briefcase and search for the artefacts to actually record my meeting with Choi San this time I grab the mic and the mini camera that look like earrings and I put them on.

I hear a soft knock on the door and I stare at myself one last time on the mirror and I turn on both the mic and the camera before finally opening.

Oh shit

[drivingsideways]

thoughts on episode 28-29, spoilers under the cut

well, after a long time, I got two episodes in a row that I actually enjoyed quite a lot! Mostly because the drama spent the time on inner palace drama and not so much on court politics, though of course, plot wise, they were inter-related! 

In random order of things:

- The “subplot” of Xia Song and Jia got some unexpected screen time. I always liked these two schemy, corrupt characters and their relationship, and this episode we get the other side of Jia’s “I tried to commit suicide when he married that woman” line; turns out our crafty, moderately competent, not very good looking Comissioner Xia is also deeply in love with her??? He wrote the loveliest song for/about her!! (A song she sings in one of the early episodes, about lovers parting!) And he loves her for who she is, including that she sent her niece to his household, in a petty act of spite/ revenge, which was apparently the last straw for his wife? Like the unexpected bitter-sweetness of their relationship really came for my heart!!! I half wished Jia had left the palace when the Emperor told her that he would grant the separation, but not allow Xia Song to marry again and that he’d be sent away. On the other hand, given who she is, why would she? She’s ruthlessly pragmatic and probably realizes that Xia Song’s love for her might not outlast the ignominy of exile and poverty! But I think the decision does hurt , and I doubt we’ve seen the last of this couple! I’m kind of secretly rooting for them in my heart!! I want them to survive this clusterfuck of a world that is palace politics!!!

- Unexpected fallout of domestic drama is- more domestic drama, but within the palace walls! How much did I love that He’er goes to war against Zhang Bihan??? Like, bitch you thought????? I also loved the scenes later with He’er and Danshu- where He’er admits that (a) her daughter is more important to her than the emperor and (b) that in fact, she feels closer to Danshu than the Empress.  I feel deeply sorry for He’er, though He’er herself doesn’t seem to feel unhappy except for Bihan’s drama? Like she was barely 15 when she made that decision to enter the palace- and despite the Empress Dowager warning her, the Empress Dowager didn’t really attempt to  dissuade her either, I think. But these many years later, you can’t help wish she’d not made that decision; she was clearly someone who’d have been happier in a more normal domestic arrangement. That said, He’er showing some fire in these two episodes was a welcome change, especially when you also see how her attitude toward the Emperor has also undergone a slight change.

- Speaking of people whose feelings about the Emperor are changing- surprise, Zhang Bihan is beginning have mixed feelings about him too- he’s no longer the “ideal man” in her life, whom she must possess- instead, his whims and fancies are even more real as a threat to her and her child now. Bihan beginning to  listen to Jia and play the smart game is also a good change, though I do feel her character has been irreparably damaged by the careless writing from the start. 

- And speaking of people whose feelings about the Emperor AREN’T changing- oh, Danshu. On the one hand, I feel like this stasis is bad writing? Because I’m frankly *tired * of women pining after asshole men until one day, miraculously, their quiet devotion gets “rewarded” when the asshole “realizes” their worth. Fuck that noise. 

On the other hand, I do feel that deep loyalty and stubborn holding on to an ideal despite the hurt it causes her, is also very Danshu? Like you see that in the way she went ahead with the marriage to the Daoist dude; and re: Zhao Zhen, she fell in love with the idea of him much before she fell in love with him, and the two aren’t really separable now. And the more he fails to live up to that ideal, the less she’s able to admit it to herself, because to do that would be to destroy everything she’s given her entire life to, and the last years since her marriage(7?10? I’ve lost track) in particular.  It would be admitting that the hurt goes deeper than just being in love unrequited; it would mean admitting that the man in her idealistic heart does not exist. Hence- the always finding excuses for him, even for his grossest excesses, and I’m not even talking about the personal hurts. Yes, he sent ten thousand men to their death , but he just made a mistake, and he’s so deeply sorry, and even when he exhibits some self-awareness of that (when he admits that the decision was driven in part by his desire to be remembered as great), even when he does that, she’s more inclined to forgive him than not. She cannot, like the audience, take a dispassionate look at him and say “Alright he’s a fairly decent ruler, but he’s an absolute disaster of a human being!!”  Like that’s probably the cultural/philosophical ethos of the time too working on her, because the Emperor was the nation, and the nation was everything? At least for someone from her particular family and social class, and her own ambitions to serve that ideal. 

It makes me wonder if there’s ever going to be a point of no return for her? What would it take to crush that idea of him in her head completely? What would he have to do? We already know it’s nothing against her personally that would do the trick- she’s swallowed his insults and neglect for years and years. If the break comes, I suspect it has to be something where he acts in an unjustifiable  way to someone else- perhaps Huaiji or Huirou or (hehehe) Maoze- something that irreparably damages his image in her eyes as a kind and good and benevolent ruler. But I don’t know if it will ever happen in the drama. Historically speaking, they never separated. Which is fine, but I would also be super interested in a story where Danshu slowly changes into someone who’s comfortable to take power for herself ( and not necessarily as an end in itself, but as a means to an end?), rather than serve, as the scales fall from her eyes.  Again history says, she was practically forced to retire from her position as regent after Renzong’s death. I don’t know if the drama will go there- more likely it’ll stop a little after his death, and the establishment of her as regent and Zongshi as emperor. 

Anyways, at this point, I’ve more or less accepted that *my * happy ending for Danshu in canon would basically be her surviving Emperor Fucklord and being surrounded by people to love and admire her, and no longer having to play second fiddle to a man she’s ten times better than. 

- In Emperor Fucklord update- he gets really angry with Maoze in a way that’s not totally explicable? As a result he both gives Maoze a promotion while simultaneously sending Maoze away from him; later, when he finds out that Dong Qiuhe was hired by Maoze, I think he’s already, in his mind using it to justify his angry reaction to Maoze’s telling him that he’d failed to report Xia Song’s affair with Jia to him. Perhaps Emperor Fucklord is so angry because he feels that the whole scandal could have been avoided if Maoze had kept him informed; perhaps he feels that giving Maoze more leeway not fully in accordance with usual conventions is against the principle he was preaching to Huaiji just before- the need to control even “personal kindness” because it could lead to indiscipline and overturning of the stable social order. RULES ARE GOOD, is Emperor Fucklord’s new mantra, after spending half his life thus far blaming every woman in sight for following rules! Perhaps it’s the retreat of a ruler who’s been badly hurt by the debacle of the war, perhaps it’s just the usual thing where people become more conservative as they get older? Whatever it is, I foresee some immediate pain for Maoze and the Empress as they navigate this more rigid version of him coupled with his paranoia. 

- The contrast between Emperor Fucklord’s embrace of convention and tradition just as Huirou, in her innocence, is questioning everything is nicely done, and sets the stage for their future conflicts. 

- I like the Huirou/Huaiji friendship; her unknowing poking at his wounds, and her immediate regret when she sees that he’s hurting. I also really like that it’s essentially her friendship with him that’s setting her on the path of questioning a lot of shit that passes for “tradition”. She’s too young to know it or feel it as keenly now, but as a noble woman, she’s only a few steps higher in practice, than the eunuch. And I don’t doubt that it’s partly that kinship which will drive their relationship forward. 

The only thing slightly uncomfortable for me is that knowing these two are meant to be a couple in the future shadows all the current (non sexual/romantic!) interaction, and with the age difference between them, it’s just- weird. Perhaps if I hadn’t known their future trajectory, it would be easier. I should clarify it’s nothing inappropriate in their writing- it’s just the foreknowledge fucks it up for me. 

Anyways, the one thing I didn’t get in these two episodes was any direct interaction between Maoze + Danshu and that is unacceptable!!!!! Why am I even watching this except for them???!!!! PFFFT. 

[xillveart]

Ancient Soul

Time Travel, Quirkless, Feudal Japan AU

“Your soul does not belong here.” Those were words you never thought that you would hear. Now, thrown into the past in feudal Japan, you must find a way to survive, all while struggling to avoid the growing feelings for one hot-headed war general. War, romance, death and love drive you forward, to find the place where your soul truly belongs.

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Want to start from be beginning? Check the Ancient Soul tag. New chapters released every Wednesday as long as schedule permits.

Genre: Romance / Angst Story Rating: Explicit | Adult Themes, Sex, Death, Depictions of Violence, Alcohol

Chapter 7: A Cell

Chapter Rating: Teen | Cursing Words:  2986

The number of stairs that you had to climb to reach Lord Yagi’s chambers was more than you had ever climbed in your entire life. You lost count of how many flights you took, but your freshly cleaned body once again felt sticky with sweat and your legs felt like they would give out on you at any moment. You were so tired, but you barely had time to get dressed in clean clothing before Bakugou was trying to pull you away to meet the Lord of this castle. You hadn’t expected to get any rest first, but you so wished for it, especially by the time you reached the level of the castle that was your destination. 

“You do not speak unless you are spoken to,” Bakugou growled at you, looking you over as if to judge your appearance. “You will answer every question with truth. More than that, you will not gawk at the physical state of my Lord, or I will have you punished. Understand?” 

Although you were confused at what he meant, you nodded, nervously fiddling with the sleeve of your fresh kimono. With that, Bakugou gestured for the guard to open the door, which he did without another moment's hesitation. You followed Bakugou inside, and though you tried to keep your head down, you couldn’t help but look around at the exquisite decor and architecture. It was so beautiful that you barely heard the slightly weary and gentle voice speaking with Bakugou, though your attention was finally pulled to them with Bakugou’s harsh response. 

“I’m here to address our Lord, not you, Deku!” 

“Kacchan, please--” A man that was obviously level with Bakugou in status held up his hands in defense, though his expression was stern on his freckled face. With wild green hair, he hardly seemed like the warrior type, especially with how timidly he talked. “-- You know that you have to go through me first. No matter what you think, I am the Chief now--” 

“I don’t care. You hold no say in what I’ve come to talk about, so talking to you is pointless!” 

“I think talking to me about this prisoner isn’t pointless--” 

“I said let me through-!” 

“That’s enough!” 

A deep but weak voice boomed through the room, making you flinch and cower down into yourself a bit. Both men were silenced as well, quickly turning their heads to look further into the room. You hadn’t even noticed the frail-looking man that sat at a large throne-like seat, his clothing nearly swallowing him. Now that you gazed upon the sunken-in eyes and hollow cheeks, you understood what Bakugou had meant about Lord Yagi’s physical appearance. He was a mess of a man, seemingly on the verge of death at any moment. His yellow hair was unkempt, but you assumed that was just from lack of health and not from personal preference. Still, it was made clear to you that both younger men respected him greatly, as they followed his command for silence without even a huff of annoyance. 

“Young Bakugou, what is it that you wanted to discuss with me?” The harsh authority in Lord Yagi’s voice was no longer present, and he instead sounded like a kind and gentle man. Giving this ‘Deku’ one last glare, Bakugou approached the end of the stairs that led up to the throne, instantly getting down onto both knees to bow deeply to the floor. 

“My Lord, I have brought this woman to present to you. I believe she could be of great benefit to us.” 

“How so?” Lord Yagi’s gaze moved to you, instantly making your stomach bubble nervously. Quickly as to not make eye contact that could be considered disrespectful, you kept your head bowed and awaited instruction. “She seems like an ordinary woman to me. What is so special about her?” 

Bakugou rose to his feet, giving a sharp motion with his hand for you to approach. Timidly, you came up to stand beside him, keeping your eyes locked on the brilliant red cloth beneath your feet that covered the cold wooden floor. “We found her during our return, out by Shōshitsu Shrine.” You were surprised to hear Bakugou call it by the name you knew it in the modern world, and you assumed it had been known for its oddities for centuries. “I believe that she has special abilities that could help us.” 

“Abilities? Young Bakugou,” Lord Yagi’s voice seemed weary, as if he were unsure of what to do with this prospect. “Such things are dangerous.” 

“It’s nothing physical. She can accurately predict the future. I saw it happen, as did everyone in my party.” 

Silence fell over the room, and you couldn’t help but bite down on the inside of your cheek. It sounded absolutely ridiculous, but that must have been how he saw what you had done. Technically, it was true. You knew what was going to happen, for the most part, and could give your input to the best of your ability. The whole thing still just seemed like a mess, and the sigh that escaped Lord Yagi’s lips only confirmed to you that he thought the same.

The sickly man shifted a bit in his seat, though you still didn’t have the confidence to look up at him. “And how did she do this?” 

“She told us that there would be an ambush at Silver River, and there was. She also predicted our victory.” 

“Young Bakugou, for someone so intelligent, it seems odd to me that you would fall for such a farce.” 

“Huh?” Bakugou’s voice wavered a bit in confusion, and you could physically feel his confidence dwindling. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s obvious that she already knew it was going to happen because she knew about it. That’s the only logical explanation.” Lord Yagi stood, prompting you to glance up for just a moment to see him make his way down the stairs. You were surprised to see that he moved with a decent amount of ease, though that didn’t stop you from being anxious about his approach. “And she only guessed that you would win. It was just a way to keep herself inconspicuous.”  

Bakugou gave a small cough to clear his throat. “It didn’t seem like that to any of us on the road, My Lord. She is constantly talking about odd things, and she was dressed in these.. rags that I had never seen before. Myself and the others who were with me all believe she has powers of some sort.” 

“It’s impossible for me to believe that without seeing proof of it myself.” Coming to a stop in front of you, Lord Yagi finally addressed you directly. “What is your name, miss?” 

“U-Uhm… it’s [F/n] [L/n], Lord Yagi.” You bowed deeply at the waist, trying to control the trembling of your body. With a gesture of his hand, you stood back up straight, though you didn’t look up at him just yet. “It’s an honor to be in your presence.” 

“How polite. You don’t seem… dangerous or threatening in any way. It truly is a surprise that you have been able to trick my General.” 

“I assure you, I haven’t tricked anyone. I… I am no spy or enemy.” 

“I’ll have to beg your forgiveness on the fact that I cannot believe you. Many women these days know how to act innocent and foolish when they have ulterior motives.” Lord Yagi turned his attention back to Bakugou, who was waiting silently to be spoken to. “Young Bakugou, this isn’t safe. I cannot trust her without proof.” 

“But My Lord, I’ve seen it--” 

“And you, along with Young Midoriya, are someone I trust beyond all others. But this is dangerous. She could be in league with the enemy.” 

“I do not think so, I truly think we could use her!” 

“Fine.” Lord Yagi sighed, obviously too exhausted to spend too much energy on such an argument. “If you wish for her to be here, then she will be under your charge until she can be trusted. I will allow that. But… I find this whole situation to be in very poor taste, Young Bakugou. A very unwise decision…” With that, he began walking towards the green-haired man, whom you assumed to be the person he called Midoriya. “We have to look over some charts now. I expect a report of your battle within the week. For now, I leave you to deal with your prisoner.” 

As Lord Yagi and Midoriya vanished through a sliding door into a different room, you were left alone with Bakugou. His stiffness and silence worried you, so finding your strength, you turned your gaze up to look at him. A chill ran down your spine at the intensity of his glare that was locked onto you, the fire that normally adorned his gaze now turned to ice. You knew why. He had just humiliated himself, all because of you and your ‘powers’. He had wanted so badly to be looked upon by his Lord with respect and praise, but he got the opposite. 

“You made me look a fool.” 

“M-me?” You brought a hand up to your chest, glowering up at him. “How did I do that? I was barely even talked to, how is it my fault?” 

“Shut up, you Demon wench.” 

“I am not a demon! You don’t think that humiliated me, too? I don’t deserve to be treated like I’m some- some damn filthy prisoner! You trusted me enough to keep me unbound, even in front of your Lord, so what’s your deal?!” Your exhaustion had your patience dwindled to nothing, and the fact that he was blaming his failure on you had you at wit’s end. There was nothing you had done that warranted being treated like the enemy or with suspicion, and after all this time, you had expected more trust. “If you don’t want me, then give me a horse, and I’ll go try to find my way home!” 

“No! You’re staying here under my charge!” 

“To do what? Sit around until I wither away or until you think you can use me? I’m not an item, I’m a person!” 

“I don’t give a shit what you are,” Bakugou growled at you, making your confidence shrink down into nothing. You were intimidated by him, and although you knew you were in the right, his stature and power over your life made you quickly realize that it would be best to keep your mouth shut. “You are going to live in this palace, watched every moment and if you even think about stepping one foot out of the gates I will have you locked away.” He pointed a finger towards the entrance, to which you silently followed command and made your way in that direction. 

Frustrated, your eyes were burning with tears, yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to say or do anything about it. You had no means of escape or help, so you knew that all you could do was roll with it all and see what happens. Perhaps, there would be a chance for you to prove your ‘powers’ to Lord Yagi, which would probably increase your status or at least give you more leniency. The first chance I get, I’m going to do a prediction. I can’t let it slip past me, but I have a feeling that Bakugou won’t be coming to me for anything… I’ll have to catch them when they’re having a conversation. Just like before. 

Lost in your thoughts about what to do with yourself, you didn’t notice Tsuyu until you nearly rammed into her. Jerking yourself to a stop, you stuttered an apology, though it was quickly smothered by Bakugou’s voice as he addressed his subordinate. 

“As discussed, you will watch her. Let me know immediately of anything suspicious.” His voice almost sounded… strained, as if he were trying to hold back whatever emotion he was struggling with. You felt both angered by his attitude and sorry for him, as he had gone through a very rough couple of days. Though, the little voice in the back of your mind told you that, just maybe, he deserved it for how awful he had been to you. That little voice brought a strong sense of guilt to your stomach, however, knowing that it hadn’t been all bad. You knew that there must be a good man beneath the wall of shit he had built around himself. If there were others following him, with so much respect and obedience, then there must be more than ranking influencing them. You could see it on Tsuyu’s face, a slight furrow of her brow preceding a deep bow. 

“As you wish. I will keep you informed daily.” 

Without another word, Bakugou left you both, vanishing behind the building before you could even look back at him again. Finally out of his presence, you gave a heavy sigh, looking at Tsuyu as she stood up straight. “He’s really pissed at me…” 

Tsuyu nodded, beginning to lead you forward. “I assume it did not go as expected with Lord Yagi. He is a very… educated man, not to say Bakugou isn’t, but there is a difference there. It’s more of a… level-headedness, one which Bakugou lacks. It can cause him to be quite frustrated when he is corrected or when he realizes that he was wrong. He will calm down.” 

“So… you think he doesn’t believe I can predict the future anymore?” 

“Oh no, I don’t mean that at all. There is something odd about you for sure, Miss. And what you did at Silver River was astonishing. You have something uncanny about you, but only time will tell what it truly is.” 

“I think… Lord Yagi made him feel like it was a mistake to bring me. Like his ambitions about whatever he wanted to do were wrong.” 

“Perhaps.” Tsuyu stopped, carefully sliding open a wall panel. “I cannot say for sure since I wasn’t there. I will say this, though. You should keep all that happens to you and your thoughts to yourself. I may not be the only one listening.” 

Frown crossing your lips, you nodded, glancing into the dimly lit room. “I’m sorry, you’re just so easy to talk to.” 

Tsuyu nodded, a small smile of her own crossing her lips. “I suppose that’s what can make me so dangerous. I make you feel a little too comfortable.” Although it didn’t seem like her words were meant to be menacing, it still reminded you that she was some type of assassin, and probably had a blade that the ready beneath her kimono sleeve. “I had fresh clothing brought for you for in the morning and we will have a servant come to take your dirty clothes to wash them daily. This will be your quarters until it is seen fit to move you to a more spacious area.” 

“Ah, I like the small size…” You walked into the room after leaving your sandals at the entrance. The tatami flooring creaked a bit under your feet, and you felt relieved to be back in some sort of civilization. “I lived in a very small room before. I wouldn’t know what to do with more space. Though this is more…” Your voice trailed off a bit at the negative thoughts, your eyes moving to the traditional futon bed that rested near the middle of the room. 

“Don’t think of it as a cell, Miss.” Tsuyu finished your thought for you, surprising you a bit at how well she could assume your thoughts. “This is your home now, and you can travel the palace as you wish with me as your guide. It will take some time for you to be happy here and gain the trust of others, but I believe that you’ll find a way.” 

Feeling the burning tears return to your eyes, you sniffled a bit, reaching up to wipe your eyes with the back of our sleeve. “Thank you, Tsuyu…” 

“Please, call me Tsu.” With a gentle smile, Tsuyu took hold of the door again, preparing to shut it. “Goodnight, Miss. I will be here in the morning.” 

“You’re not gonna camp out all night?” 

“Oh, no. I have to sleep too!” Tsuyu gave a soft laugh, nodding towards her left. “No, there will be guards here. You’re safe. Now, get some sleep.” The doors slid closed with a soft tick, leaving you alone in silence and dim light. 

Taking a deep, trembling breath, you took a moment to remove all your clothing except for the white robe that was your final layer. Keeping it tied, you knelt beside the futon, pulling back the thick blanket that covered it and adjusting the tiny head pillow. Although it wasn’t what you were used to, it was heaven compared to the hard and bumpy ground outside, and you felt a huge sense of relaxation when you finally laid down. Though, now that you were finally alone for the first time since this horrible catastrophe, you began to feel a wave of emotion crash over you. 

At this rate, you would never see anyone you loved ever again. Your parents, family, friends or even your beloved cat. They were surely grieving heavily for you by now, searching everywhere in the woods around that horrible shrine. You could only hope that no one would come across the same fox that had cursed you, so that they wouldn’t suffer the same or even a worse fate. You were now just a memory to them, as they were to you, and that ripped at your already wounded heart. 

Turning over on your side, you hid your face into the pillow as you sobbed, pulling the blanket up to completely cover your head. 

And this night, too, would become nothing but a memory.

[maple-leafing]

Ammuntion (Mitch Marner x Reader)

Request: None...This comes straight from me. Honestly I just felt like writing something for Mitch. This was one of the suggestions I asked for though

Summary: You and Mitch don’t get along. You’re like oil and water, clashing constantly and harshly. Can you find a way to fix your non existent friendship and tell each other how you really feel?

Player: Mitch Marner

Team: Toronto Maple Leafs

Word Count: 2321

Disclaimer: I mean no disrespect to the players that I am writing for and everything is purely fictional. None of the gifs I use are my own.

A/n: So I’ve never written for Mitchy, and I have no clue how that happened but.......there is always a first time for everything! This piece is also inspired by the song Ammunition by Krewella, so listening to that might help or make the reading experience better!

“Are you serious? You’re truly being serious?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

You and Mitch, if you could even call him that...(it’s not like you’re really on a first name basis) had been arguing back and forth for the past 20 minutes about something so petty it was almost as if you were arguing just for the thrill of arguing.

“Asshole.” You spat angrily as Mitch made a comment about how what you were wearing wasn’t girly enough. Even though you knew he said it just to rile you up, it still didn’t sit well with you. Although, it’s not like you even cared what he thought.

“Bitch.” He retorted.

“Is that supposed to scare me?” You asked mockingly. “Oh no, Mitch Marner thinks I’m a bitch, call the fucking police.” At this point he’d done just enough to almost push you over the edge, and if he didn’t stop soon, he’d quickly realize how wrong he was to pick a fight with you.

“(Y/n). I don’t just think you’re a bitch.” Venom seeped through his tone while his lips remained in a tight line, demonstrating his anger further. “I know you’re a bitch.”

“Guys.” Auston shouted momentarily gaining your attention away from the man whose very presence made you want to hurt someone, (specifically him, but when Mitch was around, you weren’t so sensible) “Cut it out. This is supposed to be a relaxing night off before the season starts, just friends hanging out with friends.”

“Friends...right. Just remind me why you invited her?” Mitch glared icily in your direction.

“Mitch.” Morgan interrupted, quickly becoming tired of his teammate’s attitude.

Taking Morgan’s choice to speak as an opportunity to leave the room, you did. Freddie’s condo was decently sized, but your favourite part about hanging out at his place, was being able to escape to his patio. It wasn’t large, but it was just enough for you to get some fresh air, clear your mind of anything and everything, especially Mitch Marner.

There were many people stacked into Freddie’s condo that surely, you thought, no one would miss you. All the guys that could make it, and their wives or girlfriends had come to this hang out to celebrate the start of the season. You were neither a wife, nor a girlfriend of a player, but you were, are, Auston’s close friend.

As you looked up at the dark, seemingly starless sky, and moved to the edge of the patio, choosing to tilt your head downwards, gaining a glance at the city view, you began to think about when it all went wrong. You have no idea what caused Mitch to hate you as much as he does. At first you thought maybe he was jealous that you were closer with Auston than he was, but quickly you realized, after months of being around the Canadian, that wasn’t the reason.

Mitch was an infectious person. Every person you’d ever talked to that had been in the presence of Mitch Marner, only spoke about how amazing he is, how happy he is. If you’re being honest, you’d never seen that before, and god did you want to. You wanted to be his friend, but he’d made it more than clear that he didn’t want to be yours. The only reason you’d chosen to act the way you do around him, was because he had started it. To you, it had started as a charade. If he was acting like he hated you, you were going to do the same, but now, you weren’t so sure. You never wanted to hate Mitch, and you’re not sure you ever truly will, but the more he decides to go out of his way to personally insult you, the less you remember why you wanted to be his friend in the first place.

/////

“I just don’t understand why you’re such an asshole with her.” Auston’s voice was steady but there was a hint of annoyance to it. It slightly bounced off the narrow corridor that lead to Freddie’s bedroom that Auston had pulled Mitch into. It was easy to tell both men were trying to keep their voices hushed. “I can’t even blame her for being the way she is towards you because at least in the beginning, she tried.”

“What? So now you’re taking her side?” Mitch’s eyes focused on his teammate with an intensity and an arrogance that Auston had never seen from him before.

“Of course I’m taking her side. She’s my best friend.”

“You know what?” Mitch glared, arms spread, turning to make his way out towards the living room, “Screw you.”

Anger coursed through his veins. All of this had started from him trying to conceal his feelings. The moment he saw you, Mitch knew it was better to separate himself from you than to let himself get close. So he did the only thing he thought reasonable, teach himself to hate you more than he’d ever hated another human being, in hopes it would turn the butterflies in his stomach to nothing.

Mitch had known from the second Auston introduced the two of you that this wasn’t a normal ‘crush’ that would go away. All the crushes he had had before, had never felt like that. It was the typical, boy likes girl, so boy teases girl. He knew it was wrong, and stupid, but at this point, he was too far in. The damage had been done, and he was sure you hated his guts.

As he wandered towards the balcony to get some air, he caught a glimpse of your silhouette. Your face rested in your hands as you stared out at the sky looking immersed in deep thoughts. He tried to move his body, tried to turn away, but it was as if his conscience had told his legs it was time to apologize, and suddenly, he was moving towards you.

“You come out here to think too?”

Your head snapped up. That voice.....it had to be Mitch. You sighed internally knowing that your alone time was now over and in a few minutes, you’d likely be yelling and angry. It was like a pattern for the two of you that you could never escape. He was the ammunition that you need to set you off, and you were his.

“Yeah.” Your voice was solemn and broken. You had yet to turn and face him, not wanting to actually believe he was there. “So if you’re here to make more offhand comments about how I look, or how much of a bitch I am, I’ll get my stuff and leave.”

“I’m actually here to apologize.”

You’d never heard those words come out of his mouth. Apologize was not a word you thought belonged in his vocabulary, and yet, you turned to face him.

“I’m not sure you’re talking to the right person.” You spoke quietly. “Not once have you made an attempt to apologize. Why start now?” You knew you owed him the same, and you were, are, sorry for the way you acted, but in this moment, you’re too shocked (and slightly irritated) to give him that. Even if he gave you the grandest apology ever recorded, it was in your nature to be stubborn....to push him away.

“I’ve been a dick.” Mitch took a step closer to you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “Auston helped me realize that, and I’m sorry.”

Your heart so badly wanted you to tell him you really liked him. Deep down you knew you could never hate him, but was it safe to accept his apology? By doing so, you’d be letting him in, and you didn’t know if you could let yourself be vulnerable. Especially not with him.

“No.” You decided. “I’m not going to accept your half assed, poor excuse of an apology.” You took a step towards him, trying to turn the momentum onto your side.

“I-I don’t, I’m sorry.” You let out a sarcastic laugh as he looked for the right words to say. You gathered that he thought you would eat his apology up, and you based on the look of surprise that crossed his features, you thought right. He wasn’t expecting you to deny him.

“Since the day I met you, you’ve treated me like absolute shit, like I wasn’t good enough to be able to be in your presence. And I don’t know why!” Your voice was louder now, just like you’d predicted it would be. “For months, I tried to be your friend. I comforted you after losses, I told Auston it was okay that you tag along with us every single time we were doing something together because I knew you were having a rough time, and I knew you needed someone to be there for you. I’m truly sorry that you’re life went to shit when your girlfriend broke up with you, but if you think a simple apology is enough for the way you made me feel about myself, than you’re made up of more bullshit than I thought you were. I shouldn’t have to try to be good enough for you and I sure as hell shouldn’t have to feel like I’m not good enough for you.”

The young leaf’s face contorted from shock, to anger. “That’s so rich coming from you. I’m trying to apologize and you’re throwing it back in my face like an ungrateful child.”

“Oh, you’re calling me a child?”

“I could call you a lot worse.” He spat, pushing the sleeves of his sweatshirt up.

“You’re such an asshole, you know that?” You craned your neck in annoyance, wanting this night to be over. Maybe if you closed your eyes, you’d wake up and this would all have been a bad dream......nope. “God, to think I ever liked you.”

You liked him? Mitch couldn’t find a way to process the possibility that maybe, all along, you had liked him back, but he couldn’t turn back now. You’d already outright dismissed his apology as some kind of joke, and he’d taken that as his opportunity to act like a douche bag, yet again. Internally, Mitch felt broken. Any chance he’d had a telling you he reciprocated your feelings had dissipated.

“You liked me?” Something in his voice had changed. His posture dipped lightly and his appearance became less arrogant. You thought for a moment he was scared, but maybe you were wrong, because almost as soon as a look of fear flashed in his eyes, it was gone.

You hadn’t meant to say anything and you hadn’t meant to give him any more ammuniton. Because that’s just what he needed, more of a reason to taunt you. “I did, but I’m starting to think I was very wrong.”

Brushing passed him harshly, you left Mitch standing alone on the balcony. He didn’t try to follow you, too in shock after your confession. Heading straight for the door, pushing though all the people that still remained at Freddie’s place, you ran into Auston.

“Hey. Are you alright?” He could see the tears running down your face as you tried to look away from him. Auston pulled open Freddie’s front door, grabbing his coat and car keys, and tugged you out with him. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Auston didn’t believe a word of what you were saying. “Come on. I’m at least taking you home. We’ll talk on the way.”

You didn’t say a word in the car. You were too upset to, but you did crack when you had gotten back to your apartment, sitting on your couch next to your best friend, him waiting for you to tell him what had happened.

“We got into another fight.” You finally spoke. “And it was worse than usual.”

“What?” Auston looked confused but realization dawned on him.

“Mitch.” You clarified even though you knew he’d figured it out. “I yelled at him, really really yelled at him. I’d never been so angry with him before and I just snapped. I didn’t mean to but I told him I’d liked him and he looked like I’d just run him over.”

“What happened next?” Auston asked cautiously, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I left. Then I found you, and, here we are.” You gestured between the two of you sitting on your sofa. Tears began to form in your eyes again as you thought back to how you’d left that conversation with Mitch. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a terrible friend. I really tried to not come between the two of you and all I did was hurt you.”

“No. This is not your fault.” Auston soothed. “This is definitely not your fault. I’ve told Mitch that I choose you, and I’ll continue to choose you, because you’re my best friend.”

“Thank you Aus.” You murmed sleepily.

As you leaned your head on Auston’s shoulder, slowly falling asleep as he comforted you, Mitch was back at Freddie’s regretting his decisions from the night. He knew he should have continued with his apology, and tried to prove that he wanted to make amends with you as opposed to arguing with you over something you were right about. He had been an absolute ass, but he couldn’t help but losing his temper with you. He couldn’t control the feeling that came with being around you. After all, you were the ammunition that lit him like a moth to a flame. He’d just hoped he hadn’t hurt you to the point where you wouldn’t talk to him again, though it was clear to him it was what he deserved. Staring up at the night sky, Mitch knew what he wanted and what he neeed to do. He needed to give you the apology you truly deserved, and hopefully, the confession that would show you how much he truly cared. How much you are truly, his ammunition.

[ndrv3haven]

This is my submission dedicated to @kibasniper for @danganevents valentines fic exchange. Sorry I was a little late, some things came up. It’s my first time writing for this pairing, and I hope you like it!

It was a relatively decent day for Kaede Akamatsu. At school, they had to pair up for a project and she got a good partner for once… or so she thought.

Tenko Chabashira was walking besides her, complaining about their male classmates’ behavior. She often had the tendency to look down on men and be highly critical of every little thing they did… Then again, she also had this ‘little’ infatuation for girls, specifically Himiko which scared Kaede a bit; but when she found herself side by side with her she noticed that Tenko was a much more pleasant company than she would have expected. They made small chat about all sorts of things, the blonde being especially careful to not mention the opposite gender.

It proved to be fairly easy, since the discussion was mainly about Neo-Aikido and how people tend to often misunderstand its importance. Soon enough, the conversation shifted onto her achievements and love for the arts, Kaede listening low key amazed; firstly, because of the awards in question and how unbelievable they were compared to her own, and secondly because how immersed she seemed to be. It was as if everything else ceased to exist, and that fact reminded her once again how unusual her classmates could sometimes be.

“Kaede, what do you think? Would you be able to train with me someday?” She didn’t know how their talk got to that point since she wasn’t fully paying attention, but the question slightly baffled her.

“Um… Of course! Though I’m not familiar at all with Aikido, so I’m not that good…”

“Woaah!! You actually said yes?! I mean, I really didn’t expect you to! Every time I would ask Himiko she’d always say it’d be too tiring for her…” There she goes again with Himiko. She was all over her every single moment of the day, and Kaede was questioning why that wasn’t the case at the moment.

“Speaking of Himiko, why didn’t you pair up with her for the project?”

“…She didn’t want to.”

“Oh…” the silence that followed was more saddening than awkward, since Tenko slumped in her posture and looked like a dejected little puppy. Not that she could be blamed for that, as her crush didn’t hesitate to reject her, it seemed.

“But that doesn’t matter!! I mean, you just told me you’d be willing to train! So that makes me really happy, you didn’t ask anything bad!!!” her sudden reaction and exclamation points startled Kaede a bit, but managed to shrug it off by offering her a slightly nervous smile. Out of nowhere, she got an idea that might help break the ice for the project.

“Say, wouldn’t it be a good idea to hang out somewhere before we start? I have a place in mind-“

“OOOOH!! We could have a picnic! My house is close by, I happen to have sandwiches and everything we need prepared!!” …She wasn’t going to ask further. But it would be fairly easy to guess why she’d keep a huge amount of food available with Himiko around.

As Tenko said, walking to her home didn’t take too long; not only that, but she also eagerly invited Kaede inside. It was common courtesy, yet she still felt a little out of place since her and Tenko hadn’t really spoken that much. The interior was decorated normally, a thing one wouldn’t quite expect from the Ultimate Aikido Master. Of course, there were some martial arts motifs lying around.

With a quick ‘I’ll be right back’ the slightly shorter girl disappeared into the kitchen, swiftly returning with two decently sized lunch boxes. When meeting Kaede’s gaze, she offered her a wide smile, excitement visible in her eyes. “But there’s no picnic without a picnic mat!” Apparently she had one… lying right on the couch??

“T-Tenko… Did you actually prepare everything knowing you’ll get paired up with someone and… ask them to have a picnic?”

“O-o-o-of course not!!!! This just happened to be random, see?? I didn’t even know what kind of sandwiches you like, so I totally wasn’t prepared for this!!” at this point, her face was clearly redder than usual and nervous droplets of sweat dripped from her chin which surprised the blonde a bit since it was such an unusual sight. But then, it finally clicked.

“…You got this ready for Himiko, didn’t you?”

“W-what, no!!! I mean, not that I wouldn’t want to, but no!!” her lightning fast response gave Kaede all she needed to know.

“Look… It’s okay. Even if Himiko didn’t want to hang out with you, which I’m not really sure why,” oh, she definitely knew why “you don’t have to pretend you’re happier than you actually are. It’s alright to be sad from time to time.”

“B-but… but…” Slouching in her posture, she let out a sigh and avoided the other’s eyes. “I just don’t understand… What did I do wrong…? Himiko and Angie always hang out, and… they leave me out all the time!! But maybe… maybe I really am annoying Himiko, there’s no way she can be possibly wrong!!”

“No, that’s not true! I’m sure she needs a little more time to get used to you, but you really aren’t annoying. It’s actually the opposite, since you’re so energetic you tend to rub off on others, and that’s a good thing!”

“But I must surely be bothering you right now! Instead of having a picnic, I’m just wasting your time with my excessive whining…”

“I don’t know how exactly I can convince you otherwise, but… wait, I have an idea. Since we have all weekend to finish our projects, why don’t we go hang out with Himiko and Angie? We could even have a picnic together, since you’ve prepared quite a bit of food and it’d be a shame if we wasted it. What do you say?” Kaede eagerly waited for a response, while Tenko didn’t hesitate to show her reluctance. After an incredibly short amount of time, she gave in, letting her elation take over.

“YES!! And it won’t be only me and Himiko, so that way… but are you sure you want to? I don’t want to involve you in my problems because you felt that you had no choice…”

“Look, this is my choice. I may not have spoken too much with either of them, but that’s why we could try hanging out! It doesn’t hurt to get to know each other better, and this is also a good opportunity for Himiko to warm up to you!” she tried to convey her excitement into speech, yet there were some things better left to Tenko and her seemingly limitless energy. “…of course, I do like picnics too, so…” mumbling, she smiled bashfully.

Letting her emotions out, she gleefully grabbed Kaede’s hands and thanked her, while also reminding her of how she’ll make sure the picnic would be enjoyable for all. A quick call was all it needed to convince Angie, who took it upon herself to carry Himiko along. It would be no easy task, but something assured Kaede they'd show up; she couldn't quite tell what that something was, though.

Trying to lower Tenko's eagerness to sprint out the door turned out to be a difficult challenge. Soon enough, she calmed down and walked besides Kaede as calm as she could... which was definitely not that.

Soon enough, they made it to the park where Angie, Himiko and Atua apparently, waited for them. Laying the mat and readying the sandwiches faster than one would say "nyeh", Tenko just couldn't contain herself. Kaede mostly just sat and watched, steering the conversation from men whenever she could. The food was amazing, even Atua praised them from wherever he was, according to Angie. Himiko grinned slightly while slowly munching on hers, and that meant the world to Tenko.

A few minutes of small chat turned into hours, and meaningless words took the form of secrets and confessions. The evening's rays of sun highlighted the small group of girls, giving the shortest one a headache. The rest answered to her complaints and parted, hurrying to their respective homes as it had gotten quite late. The gentle smiling Kaede and the overexcited Tenko once again found themselves walking besides each other. This time though, there were things that needed to be said.

"Kaede, thank you so much!! I really wouldn't have gone through with this idea alone, how can I possibly repay you?!"

"Geez, Tenko... You're talking as if I did something actually meaningful; instead I just hung out with my friends, no big deal."

"Aaahhh, you're too kind! I certainly don't deserve someone as good or pretty as you..."

"P-pretty?? I wouldn't really say that... "

"It's true!! And spending this day with you... has made me realize something." It was hard to believe Tenko actually used a serious tone, and by the looks of it she even attempted to look Kaede in the eyes, but immediately failed and avoided her gaze, wearing a thoughtful expression.

"I've realized there are people other than Himiko... and that, maybe, I didn't like her as much as I thought... What I mean is... Waaaah, I can't say it!" her face was tomato colored, and her nervousness made itself visible with her seemingly quivering lower lip.

"It's okay. I'm sure you'll be able to say it someday. You're strong, and I believe in you!" it was more than obvious what she was meaning to confess, yet Kaede was thankful she couldn't do it. She was not quite sure of her feelings for Tenko, and she didn't know how her vague answer would affect the other. Fortunately, Tenko reacted well to her encouragement and nodded; her motivated self back once again.

Of course, maybe with a little more time, she'd consider other options as well.

[drizzyoneshots]

Drake Short: Undercover Part Nine

Drake

I felt very uneasy being in this house knowing there was a chance someone had an eye on me. I just knew there was something off about the way Chris had been keeping his eye on me and Marshall, listening in on our conversation. He had no reason to do that, I didn't like the idea of someone creeping around. I suddenly wondered about every other conversation I’d had in this house and whether he had been listening in on those too. I wondered if that was how these people always seemed to know our next move. I didn't say anything to Marshall when I noticed Chris. I didn't want to worry him if it ended up being nothing. I didn't want to make him question someone he trusted if there was no need to. No reason to start something where there might not be anything. I questioned if he would even believe me when I first brought it up. Chris had been around a lot longer than I had. I knew Marshall trusted me but I wasn't sure if he would be willing to believe me if I didn’t have more to offer him than a suspicion. But deep down I know something about this just wasn't right.

“Baby, are you okay,” Miracle asked as she stepped into my bathroom. I looked at her in the mirror, noticing I was just standing there with the towel around my waist after I had gotten out of the shower. I had hoped taking a shower would help me to relax a little and try to think clearly about what was going on but really I just got even more stuck in my own head than I was before.

“I’m alright babe,” I assured her. I wanted to tell her the truth. I really wanted to be done with all the lying. I thought once I was finally done with the FBI that I would be able to be totally honest with her from that point on. But I also didn't want to scare her. I didn't want her to worry. I never wanted her to feel unsafe here in her own home. This was the only place she really felt like nothing could touch her. The man who had broke in had already taken some of that. I wasn't willing to take the rest of it. I wanted her to keep what was left of her peace of mind. But I needed to keep her safe.

“Drake...I can't tell you're in your head about something. Please. Talk to me,” She begged as she reached out and touched my back. I felt the familiar tug of guilt in stomach again. I really thought I had been done with that feeling. Maybe there would always be something for me to feel guilty about.

“I’m just trying to figure out who could ever want to hurt someone as good as you,” I said quietly as I looked at her reflection in the mirror. To an extent, that was true. Even if it was Chris, he wasn't who we thought he was, that much was obvious. Clearly he was working for someone else, someone who didn't have our best interests in mind. I felt even more uneasy when I thought about the fact that he and I weren't as different as I would have liked. I did the exact same thing I was right here judging him for doing. I had worked right under Marshall’s nose collecting information for someone who's entire goal was to take him down. Sure the motive was different. I had come in here thinking I was doing the greater good, I came to the Watts’ house thinking I was helping to take a horrible man off the street and save lives. I wondered if Chris or whoever was behind this thought they were doing the right thing too. I wondered if he thought this was what was best. Because I knew first hand that sometimes you don't always know what’s best. We all have our own morals and our own motives, I wondered if he thought he was right too. I felt my skin crawl at the thought of me and Chris being anything alike. I tried to think about the ways we weren't alike. I never would've let someone who was innocent get hurt. Even when I was still one hundred percent into my investigation of Marshall, I never would have let his daughter get hurt as collateral damage. Even before my crush on her. That just wasn't something I did. Innocent people didn't deserve to be hurt. But I found myself thinking about the emotional ways I was willing to hurt her. I never would have harmed a hair on her head but I came here fully prepared to take the one piece of family she had left and make sure she had to look at him across a metal table in a prison visitation room for the rest of his life. I sucked in a deep breath, telling myself I was different back then. I had a distorted view of how things really were, I thought everything was so fucking black and white. I thought people were either good or they were bad. But now I knew better. Men like Marshall, and even me, we straddled the line of right and wrong. We did the best we could to be decent men to those who deserved us but we would fight to death to protect the people we loved. I looked at the woman I loved more than anything on this Earth as she studied my face in the mirror. I saw how worried she looked, how concerned she was about whatever was running through my mind right now. I watched as her eyes dropped to my naked torso, at first I felt a surge of male pride at her checking out my toned stomach but then I realized what she was looking at. She was staring at the wound on my stomach that was finally beginning to heal. She was staring at the spot where I had taken a bullet for her. I saw a flash of guilt in her eyes and I immediately got out of my own head, I needed to make her feel better now. She needed me to reassure her.

“Hey,” I called out quietly. She raised her eyebrows at me. I could tell she was waiting for me to say something.

“I’d do it again, a thousand times if I had to. You know that, right,” I asked. She shook her head at me.

“I don't think I can watch that happen a thousand more times. I thought...I thought you were gone Drake,” She said, her voice cracking like she was about to cry. Neither of us had talked in too much detail about what had happened that day. I didn't want to upset her or make her relive it but I knew I needed to say something. I turned around so I was finally face to face with her instead of just looking at her in the mirror.

“Baby you know I love you, you know I want to stay with you for a long, long time. I swear I do. But if I died protecting you, I would have zero regrets. No matter what happens or when, if something ever happens to me while I’m trying to keep you safe, then I don’t want you to ever feel an ounce of guilt about that,” I said, looking straight into her eyes so she knew I was serious. I knew we still weren’t in the clear with all this shit and there was always a chance things could go wrong again. I never wanted her to blame herself if something happened to me.

“I just...I’ve let myself dream up all these things for us and I couldn’t stand the idea that you might not be here to do them with me. I don't want to do this with anyone else. It’s you, Drake. It’s always going to be you,” She said as tears started dripping down her face. I held her face in my hands and wiped her tears away with my thumbs.

“I’m right here Miracle. They didn't take me from you. I’m right here,” I reminded her. She held my hands on her face, just like she had did when I was laying on her bed, falling into a deep sleep from the gushing wound in my stomach.

“I just want to be done with all this. I want all this to be over so we can move on and really live our life,” She said through her tears. I noticed the way she said “life” instead of “lives”, like we both were living the same life now. I smiled a little at that, even though she probably didn't even notice she said it.

“I’m gonna do everything I can to put an end to this as soon as possible. Everything is gonna be back to normal before you know it baby,” I assured her I shifted on my feet uncomfortably, trying to find a way to stand where the slowly healing wound in my abdomen didn't hurt. I hadn't stood for more than a few minutes since before I got shot, but the doctor said that would take time.

“You should sit down, come on,” Miracle said, noticing how uncomfortable I was. I didn't bother fighting her this time, I just let her take me by the hand and lead me to the bed. I sat down gently, wincing slightly at my torso moved. I positioned myself so I was sitting up with my back against the headboard.

“Come here,” I whispered, motioning for her to get in bed with me. She crawled onto the bed, and honestly I had some very, very, dirty thoughts cross my mind as she did. If it weren't for the pain in my torso, I could have showed her just how much I really did love her. But I knew that would probably just lead to me popping my stitches open and neither of us needed that. I didn't want to have to be so cautious the first time I was with her, I wanted to show her that I was the only man she was ever going to need ever again. So I would have to wait. Miracle curled up into my side, laying her head on my chest. I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her as close to me as possible and rubbing her lower back gently.

“So you wanna have my babies, huh,” I asked with a smirk, thinking back to what she had told me that day I was shot. She told me about wanting to marry me, wanting to carry my children. I had been thinking of that when I slipped away. I had thought about a little boy with her eyes and my smile. Or a little girl who had the same attitude that Miracle had, one that would make me roll my eyes and smile at the same time. I thought about standing at the end of the aisle while her father walked her to me, dressed all in white. I thought about promising in front of God and everyone that I would love her every single second of the rest of my life, and meaning it more than I had ever meant anything. I thought about her meeting my mother for the first time. I wasn't sure how that was going to go, considering my mom knew all about my FBI career. But still, I hadn't focused on that, I had focused on the fact that I knew my mother would adore her. Miracle was every single thing she told me I should look for in a woman and then some. I knew she would love her the second she saw how much I did.

“Of course I do. I mean, if you want those things too,” She said, suddenly sounding a little self conscious like maybe she wasn't sure. I laughed quietly.

“You think there’s a shot in hell that I don’t,” I asked. There was no way she didn't see how much I loved her, how much I wanted her to be my last everything.

“I think you do. I know you said you did when you got shot but sometimes people get carried away in the heat of the moment. There’s nothing wrong if you’re not sure just yet. Most people don't decide someone is the person they're meant to be with this soon,” She rambled quickly, like she was trying to get the words out as fast as she could. She had never questioned where I stood on our relationship before, she never seemed to wonder if I was all in or not. I couldn’t figure out why she was now.

“You're right, sometimes people get caught up in the moment. Some people might say something they normally wouldn't when they think they might die. I’m sure some men would tell you that you were everything to them even if you weren’t, because they were scared and wanted to feel that connection one last time. But I’m not most men. I never want you to question anything I ever tell you about how I feel about you ever again, I mean it Miracle. I don't care if I’m laying on my death bed, you're everything baby. It’s you. It’s always going to be you. I wouldn't have said those things if I didn't mean them. I meant them long before some dickhead shot me in the stomach. If you want me to marry you right now to prove it, just say the word,” I said, not an ounce of joking in my voice. I would have married her right then and there if she decided she wanted that. I would have done anything on Earth for her. She smiled at me, her chin now resting on my chest while she looked up at me.

“Is that a proposal,” She asked with a small laugh. I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Do you want it to be,” I asked, wanting her to see that I was dead serious.

“My dream wedding doesn't involve my husband with a bandaged up bullet wound. So I guess we’ll just have to wait,” She said, still smiling up at me. I felt the warmth spread throughout my chest. This was the first time she had referred to me as her husband in any sense. It was a word I could get used to, a word I wanted to get used to. I picked up her hand and brought it to my lips, kissing her ring finger gently. I made a mental note to put a ring on that finger as soon as I could. Maybe it was fast but fuck, she clearly was it for me. I had left a job that had been my whole life before her, because I couldn’t stand the idea of lying to her any more or potentially hurting her. I had given up my whole life basically, and I would do it a million more times for her. I was never the kind of guy who was like this with women, I never lost myself in the relationship. I never let a relationship define me. But this from the jump had felt like so much more than anything I had ever known. This was the woman I was meant to spend forever with.

...

“Drake? Is something on your mind,” Marshall asked as we sat in his office. He had brought me in here to talk about new security enhancements he wanted to make to his property, but I felt myself getting distracted. I felt like I had to keep Chris in my sights these days, subtly of course. Now that I was finally mostly healed up, I was able to leave the confines of my bedroom and be around a little more. But I still couldn’t make it obvious that I was keeping an eye out for him. I didn't want to tip him off before I had anything to actually prove what I thought. But I noticed that he seemed a little off lately, like he was watching his back because he was paranoid about something. He was looking over his shoulder, literally.

“Nah, I’m good,” I said with a nod. He looked me directly in the eye for a second before he spoke.

“Do you think I got to where I am by not being able to tell when someone’s got something else going on in their head,” He asked. I sighed deeply, knowing he was right. That’s why I had always been so nervous about him finding out about me and Miracle when we first got together, he could read almost anyone like a fucking book. It was almost freaky. Which is why I was so surprised that Chris might actually be successfully keeping something from him. I shook myself from the thought, not trying to get ahead of myself. I had to remember that Chris might actually have done nothing wrong. He could have something else going on that was causing him to act a little off, I didn't know that guy’s life.

“It’s nothing. I’ve just been really in my own head trying to figure all this stuff out,” I said with a shrug, feeding him the same lie I had fed his daughter a few days before. I just wasn't ready to tell anyone about Chris, not until I knew for sure. He nodded.

“I know the feeling, but we’re gonna do this. You were right, we can figure this out. We just have to find the missing piece, there’s got to be something that we haven't thought of yet,” He said, his eyebrows furrowing together while he was deep in thought. His phone rang and I stood up, taking that as my cue to leave. He nodded to me as I left the room. I stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind me as I did. I felt my whole body tense when I saw Chris hurrying around the corner away from the office. I followed him, officially sick of whatever the hell was going on. This was twice now that I had caught Chris listening to a conversation he had no business being involved him. I caught up to him in the living room, where he was sitting trying to act like I hadn't just seen him in the hallway.

“What the hell is your deal,” I asked, trying not to lose my patience with him.

“What are you talking about man,” He asked.

“I’ve seen you creeping around here listening in on me and Marshall talking more than once. With everything going on lately, you can see why I might be a little suspicious for me,” I said, trying to keep my voice low so neither him or Miracle heard me. I didn't want to worry them, not yet.

“You really think I’m the one who's a rat? Out of everyone here? I’ve been around a hell of a lot longer than you Drake,” He said as he stood up from his seat. I could tell he was getting defensive about this whole thing.

“Don’t play like I’m a rat. We both know that's bullshit,” I said through my clenched jaw. The whole rat thing was proving to be a very touchy subject for me but I knew that I was more loyal to the Watts family now than any of these people ever had been.

“You wanna sit all high and mighty now, running around as Marshall’s right hand man all of the sudden even though everyone else has been watching his back a lot longer than you have. But all of the sudden who you are, acting like the son he never had and why? Because you took a bullet for Miracle all because you're sticking your dick in her,” He asked. I felt my hands ball into fists.

“Watch your fucking mouth when you talk about her,” I warned him, sucking in a deep breath to try and control my temper. It wouldn't bother me a bit to beat the fuck out of this guy simply because he had tried to downplay my feelings for Miracle but I tried to remind myself that nothing was gonna get solved by that. He just chuckled and shook his head at me.

“Always trying to play Captain Save A Hoe, it’s incredible,” He said, still laughing. That’s when I really lost it. I lunged at him, sending my fist to his face. I don't think he really expected me to get mad enough to hit him, I normally had a lot more control than that. But the second he started talking about Miracle my rage was a ticking time bomb. Within a few seconds I had him on the ground under me and we were both sending fists flying. I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back.

“Drake stop,” Marshall ordered me as he pulled me off Chris and pushed me across the room so we were separated. I saw Miracle standing at the bottom of the stairs looking confused.

“What the hell is going on,” Miracle asked as she walked further into the room, making her way towards me.

“Ask your boy, he's the one who just came at me out of nowhere,” Chris said as he got up off the floor and wiped the blood from his nose on his sleeve. I opened my mouth to defend myself but Marshall spoke over me.

“I heard exactly what you said before he hit you so don’t you fucking dare,” He said as he stood between me and Chris.

“Sir, I...” Chris tried to explain himself but Marshall wasn't having any of that.

“Get out,” He ordered. Chris looked surprised and Miracle had the same look on her face.

“What,” He stuttered out.

“If you want to talk about my daughter, or someone who was willing to take two bullets for her like that, you can go. I don’t care how long you’ve been around, Chris. Time does not measure someone’s loyalty. Clearly,” He said sternly. I smiled slightly. But I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

“Loyalty? You want to talk about loyalty? You think Drake is everyone’s fucking hero but I bet you didn’t know he used to be an FBI agent and that’s the whole reason he came here,” He said before he turned and headed out of the room, and towards the front door. I saw the look of horror on both Marshall and Miracle’s faces. Oh fuck. This was bad.

[strangershield]

When They Met

Pairings: Grant Ward x reader

Request:

Warnings: slight language?

A/N: Again this is set in season one (pre HYDRA). For this one I tried a different perspective but I didn’t realize this made the reader female until I was halfway through so I’m sorry, I try to keep my reader inserts open to everyone and this wasn’t my intention. Nevertheless I hope you like it!

-

The hallway was cold, no visible sign of life. His breath was the only thing that could be heard, each intake of breath sounding like a distant canon. Ward cursed himself. Why did he breathe so loudly? He reached the end of the hallway and located the steel door. Kicking it open, Ward found a small square room that was vacant apart from a single desk and chair. He entered and inspected his surroundings more closely. Surely there was a clue in here somewhere. After all, this was the spot. Sighing he took one last look around the room and prepared to call his partner.

“YES!” The voice in his ear roared.

“Shit!” Ward exclaimed, wincing as his ear starting ringing. He cradled his ear and focused on letting his heart rate return to normal.

“Sorry.” (Y/N)’s voice came through, this time at a reasonable volume.

He kept silent, wanting to make sure his annoyance was conveyed, before his curiosity got the better of him.

“Was it the final duel?”

“He did it, he actually did it. Like Voldemort’s death was weird whose idea was it for him to dissolve? But Harry my precious boy did it.” She spoke quickly, as if her thoughts might escape if she didn’t voice them as soon as they entered her mind. Ward smiled at her and felt reassured knowing no one could see it. He didn’t understand why she was so obsessed with characters in movies and books but he found these moments of her freaking out adorable. He couldn’t find her adorable though, how could he when he had never met her. Yes, over the past two years the two of them had done every mission together but she was always somewhere safe and hidden, only ever the voice in his ear. He was always out in the middle of danger, usually alone. It was somewhat comforting to have someone with him at all times, even if they were just a voice in an earpiece. If he was being honest Ward would even admit that he preferred it to having a partner in the field. He didn’t have to worry about someone else getting injured or getting in his way. All he had to focus on was himself. She helped, of course. It had been a rocky beginning as Ward had already declined three previous communication agents, calling them annoying and irritating (as well as some other inappropriate names). Then (Y/N) was given the position and they clicked. He was hesitant as she was new at the time and hadn’t had much experience. Ward expected her to be naive and clumsy. In fact, he hoped she would be as he would finally be able to prove that he didn’t need someone watching over him. But he was wrong. She was nervous and naive, yes, but also confident and smart. Very smart. (Y/N) saved his life on their first assignment together and she didn’t even blink (well, he assumed that she didn’t blink as she continued talking about the difference between fairies and pixies). He was impressed by her, and the two made an unconventional bond. They knew everything about each other yet knew nothing at the same time. It was strange knowing that they could have seen each other before and not have realized, yet they have their voices memorized.

“Okay, talk to me.” She said, voice direct and hard. She was concentrating purely on him now, and Ward would be lying if he didn’t admit that he liked it.

He walked around the room as he spoke, “There’s nothing here.”

“Nothing?”

He nodded and realized she couldn’t see him. Stupid. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Ward heard the distant sound of typing in his ear as he stood alone in the room of concrete and stainless steel. The mission was a failure, or their source was corrupted. Who was the source anyway?

“Boom, you lie.”

“What?”

“Walk over to the back wall and stand in the right corner. Now push the area of wall twenty centimeters to your left.”

Ward did as he was told and, as soon as he pressed the section of the wall, it clicked like a button, revealing a rectangle draw underneath with a single USB. The files.

“You did it.”

“You say it like you doubted me? Come on sweetheart, it’s been two years!”

“Okay I get it you’re a genius.” Ward muttered but smiled. He really liked her. Carefully he placed the drive into a pocket and lifted his gun, ready to leave.

“Oh, and I am not a fan of sweetheart.”

She sighed. “I’ll add it to the list.”

-

Ward hadn’t been into the field for a week and he missed (Y/N). Everyday he hoped Coulson would call him up to his office for a mission but it never happened. In fact, he was only ever called upon to tell him of Skye’s progress. Ward also knew it was (Y/N)’s birthday soon and wanted to at least wish her a happy birthday. Birthdays and other occasions were discussed between them but only casually. The first time (Y/N) only told him because he was on a mission on her birthday. The next year she told him the date, and he wrote it down as soon as he got home. This year he had the date and didn’t need reminding. He did however need her. That wasn’t the only reason why he wanted to speak to her. He missed her. A lot. He missed her nerdy references and her intelligence. He missed the way she made him smile, even if no one else ever saw. Ward was mindlessly organizing files, thinking of (Y/N), when Coulson called a team meeting. Once they had all assembled he revealed that they would be going to the Hub on Tuesday to attend some meetings and install updates to the helicarrier. After they were dismissed Skye approached him, one eyebrow raised.

“You seem uncharacteristically happy.”

“What?”

“I think I saw a hint of a smirk. Why are you so happy to visit the Hub?”

“I’m not.” Ward replied. It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t happy. He was beaming. Tuesday was (Y/N)’s birthday and it was only two days away. In two days he would finally see her again. He approached his room, still internally grinning, when the realization kicked in. He would see her in two days. Actually see her. She would be a person, not just a voice in his ear. Suddenly he felt squeamish and light headed. He wasn’t ready. He needed her, but he wasn’t ready. What if he stuffed it up and ruined her birthday? What if they didn’t get along? Hell, what if she hated him? It was too much to process. He sat on his bed but not before slamming his hand against the wall. He couldn’t stuff this up. He needed this. He needed (Y/N).

-

Everyone looked around the Hub in awe, apart from May who had been several times. Coulson had been here before too, but he still looked as if he was seeing it for the first time. Ward hoped he didn’t appear out of character or that his nervousness could pass as excitement. He appeared pale today and agitated, constantly moving. He almost screamed when something hit his shoulder. Almost.

“Going okay?” Skye asked after she lightly punched his shoulder. “You seem weird.”

Ward scoffed. “Weird?”

Skye was about to continue when Jemma pulled her away to show her something as Fitz hurried after them. Ward let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Maybe he couldn’t do this. He didn’t even know if it would happen. Clenching his fist to prevent himself from punching a wall he wandered around the institution in hopes of finding decent coffee. It wouldn’t calm his nerves but it was a distraction at least. The Hub was spacious but crowded, seas of women and men running around in suits and office attire. As Ward walked around he had enough space to keep to himself and ignore everyone. The inner workings of SHIELD with its hectic, organized chaos used to excite him. In fact, it still does. However, today it was just another obstacle keeping him from her, more faces that could belong to her. Finally Ward found what appeared to be a break room equipped with a fridge, some chairs and a pot of coffee. He carefully poured the liquid into a styrofoam cup, hoping it was still warm, and tasted it. He grimaced slightly. Bitter and lukewarm but drinkable. Ward left the room and rejoined the crowd as he wondered why there wasn’t a coffee chain cafe in the Hub yet. As he walked he checked the time and saw he still had an hour until his first meeting. One hour to find her, or more likely one hour to procrastinate about finding her. He decided to enter the next hallway which opened with a sharp and narrow corner. When he turned a woman was centimeters away from him. She let out a surprised gasp as Ward did the same, dropping his coffee in the process. The brown liquid stained the white floors and splashed their legs. Thankfully it wasn’t hot. Mentally Ward cursed himself.

“I am so sorry.” He apologized, staring at the spilt coffee. How was he one of SHIELD’s top field agents when he was so clumsy. The woman smiled sincerely, her eyes almost guilty. Her eyes were beautiful and clear, which Ward noticed as he tried to figure out why she felt bad. It was his fault, not hers. Maybe she was one of those lovely people who take the blame anyway.

“Oh please it’s fine, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She explained.

Ward prepared one final apology when it hit him. He knew her. She seemed so familiar, from her comforting nature to her soothing voice...

Her voice. Ward looked at her more clearly now and wondered if she had figured it out.

“It’s you?” He stuttered.

She looked confused until she registered his voice and everything began to fall into place.

“Ward.” She muttered, just as Ward said her name.

The pair stared at each other as the overwhelming truth of the current situation rested heavily between them. After years of communication, mindless nonsense and comforting words, they were finally face to face. For a relationship that was built on communication it seemed appropriate to assume that they would have no trouble talking face to face. Yet they both remained silent. No words would come to Ward’s mind, nothing perfect or even messy and wrong. Nothing. (Y/N) felt the same as she stared at the famous Grant Ward. Her Grant Ward. As well as speechless, Ward was blown away by her beauty. He knew her voice was like honey, smooth and sweet and just right. Yet seeing her was something else. Everything from her hair to her clothing was perfect to him. He didn’t care about her slightly messy hair or the stain on her top. The coffee was forgotten about, left lying on the floor as they tried to start a conversation. A word. Anything. (Y/N) was the first to break the trance as she felt the now cold liquid seep through her pants and stick to her legs. “This isn’t what I imagined saying to you the first time we met but should we clean this up?”

Ward looked to where she gestured, the split coffee, and he was snapped back to reality.

“Oh right, yes definitely. Sorry.”

With some napkins and tissues they managed to clean up the spill. Well, Ward did anyway.

“I can help.” She protested.

“I know, but it is your birthday.” Ward smiled. She blushed but tried to help anyway. When the mess was taken care of (Y/N) looked at Ward again and took advantage of the situation.

“Since you ruined your first, would you like another cup of coffee?”

Ward smiled again (this was becoming an increasing pattern around her). “I’d like that, but you may have to lead the way. It’s been a while since I’ve been here.”

“Well, it’ll be our normal then. I’ll continue to tell you what to do.”

Ward laughed before he put out his hand. (Y/N) raised an eyebrow and shook it cautiously.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/N).”

“You too, Ward. You too.”

“Oh, and happy birthday.” He quickly added, hoping it was better late than never. She laughed and took his hand, her cheeks slowly turning rosy pink.

“Let’s go my love.”

My love. He could get used to that.

[mayfriend]

19 be a hater pls :^D

Oh, I love being a hater, tysm <3

Idk if they're popular still, but when I was in school everyone kept on talking about Uglies by Scott Westerfield, and I figured huh, must be a pretty good book. NOPE. Go straight to (literary) jail, do not collect £200, do not pass go. I can see what he was trying to achieve with the whole 'beauty isn't important' angle, but it just came across very preachy and seemed to insist that anyone who cares more than 'normal' amount about their appearance is shallow, and doing the dance so many authors do when trying to undercut western patriarchal norms where they end up blaming women for wanting to be pretty in a society where they're point blank told that's what makes them worth something. If you want this done well (even if it's aimed at a slightly younger audience), try Jennifer Murdley's Toad by Bruce Coville.

All The Bright Places by Jennifer Niven. Now, before you get your pitchforks out: I think she again had a pretty good basis for a story idea. Finch and Violet are well defined, original characters and the end point is the strength of the story. But getting to the end... god, this book was a drag. I'm sorry, it was. The pacing was all over the place, it felt like Niven was just making the same point about life bring both difficult and precious over and over and over again in the same way, and didn't trust her readers not to need their hands held the whole way. Also, as a pet peeve, 're-MARKEY-able' is not that clever of a pun that it needs to be thrown about every other page.

My mum bought me The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton quite a few years ago now, and I still haven't been able to make it further than the first chapter. Apparently its very good but I just can't persist through the dull beginning.

I made the critical mistake of buying Nikita Gill's poetry book, Fierce Fairytales & Other Stories to Stir Your Soul, after seeing it for dirt cheap in a charity shop. Dear GOD do I know why it was cheap now. I've recently gotten into the habit of putting my name and the year into new books I start, because I like the thought that in the future someone might see it and have a moment of connection, but legit I want to rub my name out of this one so nobody knows I owned it, however briefly. It's that bad. I vaguely knew her name (mainly through searching for content for webs), and I'd seen a few lines of her poetry online that weren't awful, so I foolishly assumed that in order to publish a book it would need to have, you know, decent fucking content. I cannot actually express in words how bad it is. I couldn't force myself through the latter half - foolishly, I persevered at first because I thought there had to be something in there worth the cost of the paper and the ink, but no. No there is not. And again!! The IDEAS aren't bad!! People are updating fairy tales all the time!! But its just so lazy. There's drawings that I'd charitably say are just above the level of a thirteen year old girl doodling during English, a poem about Cinderella (at least I think it was Cinderella, but I don't hate myself enough to go and double check) that I shit you not referred to a fidget spinner, and the most boring rhymes and brain-dead interpretations of fairy tale characters you've ever seen. It's apparent meant to be 'feminist' fairytales but, deadass, they're just. They're just about Disney characters. Don't believe me?? Exhibits A to G (because it turns out I do hate myself enough to scan for the worst bits so you can all suffer as I suffered):

unLIkE moSt MeN oF hIs TImE, hE waS pROGreSsiVE

Like... my good bitch, half of that is written in the most jarring structure, unappealing sentences and awkward wording imaginable, and the other half is Disney™. Oh, the sea-witch is ample bodied, is she? 'Jafar' the Sultan's most trusted advisor was a poor boy come from nothing, huh? Cinderella's mother l i t e r a l l y told her "have courage and be kind", hm? Those motherfuckers will sue, and I kind of hope they do in order to get this refuse off the shelves.

There are more, but I got sidetracked (I couldn't find the fidget spinner line but I swear to you it's in there) and I need to go scream into a pillow or something after reminding myself about that godawful poetry book.

[darling-cas]

Whatever It Takes: Chapter 4

ACOTAR Figure Skating AU

Summary: Nesta firmly believes that if you want something, you have to work your ass off for it. And she wants a National title attached to her name. But when her coach decides that a change in discipline is what Nesta needs, she’s far from impressed. Now, instead of training as a ladies single skater, she has to switch gears and skate as a pairs skater. And her partner? Someone she can’t stand. Non other than cocky, flirtatious, former Men’s skater Cassian. Edited by: @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

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Azirel kept his eyes down low, trained on the floor.

He didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone. Because if he did, they would see his face. And he would have to deal with the confusion and pity in their eyes.

He didn’t want their pity. Not one bit.

Azriel stood at the very end of the counter with his hands pushed deep in the pockets of his jacket. It was pretty early in the morning - just after seven. The local coffee shop was in the middle of its morning rush.

Azriel kept his eyes downcast as he glanced around the room. Elders, business people, students, families - an abundance of different people were gathered in the small shop. Normally, Azriel would have gone through the drive-thru to grab his black coffee on his way to school. But that morning, with the rain coming down in sheets, it was much quicker to just go inside.

“Extra large, black.”

He stepped forward, giving the young man behind the counter a quick nod of thanks as he handed Az his coffee, then turned on his heel. He made his way towards the door, pulling up his hood as he went, keeping his eyes down the whole time.

A mix of wind and rain slapped him in the face the moment he opened the door, the dainty bell ringing above him as he went.

Keys gripped tightly in one hand and coffee in the other, Azriel ran across the parking lot to his car. Water splashed against his legs as rain bounced off of his back. By the time he reached his car, he was already soaked.

He was half in the car when he heard a vehicle pull up next to him and the sound of his name being called over the downpour of rain.

“Az!”

Squinting against the water in his eyes, Azriel glanced over his shoulder. Elain pulled up next to him in her old car, the window down just enough for him to hear her call his name. When he met her gaze, she smiled slightly, beckoning for him to join her in the beat-up Ford Focus.

Damn him. Damn him straight to hell. Even after the hockey game over a week ago, he still couldn't bring himself to stay away from her.

He’d somehow been able to stay away for the past week. Between school, work, and hockey practice, it actually hadn’t been that hard. But at that moment, there was no escaping her. Even if he wanted to.

Giving her his own barely visible smile, Azriel stepped out of his car. He only really had a few minutes until he had to leave in order to be on time for class. But he could make time for Elain. He owed her that much. Especially after what had happened at the hockey game.

Yes, he could give her a few minutes. If for no reason other than to tell her how sorry he truly was.

“Sorry for making you step back out into the rain.” Elain reached forward to turn up the heat. She looked up to shoot him an apologetic smile, but it hadn’t even fully form on her lips before it fell again.

Azriel looked away from her, turning to watch the rain beat down on the windshield. But he knew it was too late. She had already seen his face. She had already seen the fading purple bruise on his left cheek, the cut from his split lip, the slit above his eyebrow. All given to him by Lucien.

“At least he looks worse,” Rhys said to him that night, as Azriel held an icepack to his cheek.

“Good thing we taught you how to throw a decent punch all those years ago,” Cassian added. “But maybe we should have focused more on blocking.”

Azirel would have glared at them both if his face hadn’t hurt so much.

Elain cleared her throat, also looking out the windshield. “How long are you suspended for?”

“For the next two games.” Azriel’s voice was low. “Same as him.”

In his opinion, he’d been let off easy. Fighting in hockey was basically encouraged. But only if you were fighting with the other team. Not with your own team.

Once the fight finally broke up that night, after God only knew how long, both Azriel and Lucien were thrown off of the ice. They sat out the rest of the game and the Royals had won 1-0. Then they had to sat around some more after the game while Coach yelled at them until he was blue in the face. Which lead to them being informed that they had a two-game suspension.

Azriel figured it would have been longer if the first Championship game didn’t just so happen to take place right after the next two games.

Elain nodded, taking a sip of her own coffee. Azriel realized she must have used the drive-thru.

Now it was Azriel’s turn to clear his throat. “I’m surprised to see you this early, seeing as you love your sleep so much.”

“I had to drop Nesta off at practice.” Elain toyed with the lid of her cup as she spoke. “Plus… I had to meet with the board of executives.”

Azriel couldn't help but glance over at her, raising an eyebrow. “Oh?”

He watched as Elain nodded, biting her bottom lip softly. A few beats of silence passed by. The only sound was that of the rain beating off of the hood of the car, before Elain slowly lifted her gaze.

“I decided not to go back to skating.”

Azriel blinked in surprise. He knew Elain had been thinking about it for a while now, about whether or not she would take another year off. He just didn’t know why - Elain hadn’t shared that with anyone. Even Nesta, as far as he knew. But the way she spoke, the tone in her voice, made it sound like she wasn’t going back… ever.

“How do you feel about that?” Azriel asked, for a lack of anything else to say.

“Not as bad as I thought I would, honestly.” Elain shrugged her small shoulders. Then she lifted her gaze, and those stunning brown eyes met his. “But I actually wanted to ask you something. That's why I stopped you.”

Azirel took a long slow sip of his coffee. He could feel Elain’s eyes on his face, tracing over his cuts and bruises. But he refused to look away. So he simply nodded.

Elain brought her drink to her lips again before speaking, her gaze looking back out the windshield.

“What happened at the hockey game?”

Azriel honestly should have expected the question, yet he couldn't help but still be taken aback.

Elain’s gaze finally landed on him again when Azriel didn’t speak right away.

“Lucien… he won’t tell me.”

“Why?” The word was out of his month before Azriel could stop it.

Elain simply shook her head, hair flying. “It’s… a long story. But things between us are… different lately. Nothing’s happened. But it’s just…” She trailed off, taking a minute to draw in a deep breath before speaking. “I know he threw the first punch. I just need to know why. I really need to know. I - What happened?”

Azriel turned back to the windshield, watching the drops of water run down the clear surface. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts, to figure out what to say. But really, even that wasn't enough.

Lucien aside, Azriel couldn't tell Elain what the fight was about. What provoked it. If he told her that the fight was essential about her, she’d be crushed. She didn’t have the fire that Nesta and Feyre had. No, her strength was her giant heart, her softness. He knew that she would blame no one but herself. And Azriel couldn't put that on her, not when she already seemed like she was dealing with so much.

So he didn’t say anything.

A minute passed by. Then another. And another. Before Elain’s eyes locked with his.

Realization was what Azriel saw first in those eyes. Then a flash of anger. Then devastation and heartache took over completely.

Azriel felt his heart shatter into a million small unfixable pieces.

Elain bit her lip, slowly nodding her head. The hurt wasn’t just in her eyes anymore. It had taken over her entire face.

And he knew why. He understood where all the hurt was coming from.

Ever since they were fifteen, ever since they had met, Azriel had never kept anything from Elain. She was the one person he could tell everything to. Things he couldn't even tell Rhys and Cassian. And Azriel was the one person she could go to for anything.

But he would standing by his decision. No matter how much it hurt them both.

“I need to get going,” Elain spoke up after a long while, not meeting Azriel’s gaze.

He nodded slowly, gripping his coffee cup and letting out a sigh before opening the door. It was only when he was standing outside, back in the pouring rain, that he realized he never said the one thing he truly needed to say. Whether she would understand why or not.

“Elain.” Azriel spun around, holding the door open. But she didn’t meet his gaze as he spoke her name. “I’m really sorry about all this.”

Elain simply nodded, once again biting her lip. Azriel wasn’t even sure she was listening to him at that point. Maybe he deserved it though.

Without another word between them, Azriel closed the door and stepped back. Elain moved out of the parking spot not seconds later.

He knew he should get back in his car. He knew he should suck it up. He knew he should get to class. But Azriel couldn't force himself to move.

He simply stood there, the sky crying above him. But he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the rain or that he was soaked to the bone.

No, he stayed where he was, watching as Elain drove out of the parking lot. And he stood there long after she was gone, the image of her sorrow-filled eyes never leaving him, forever burned in his memory.

Sorrow-filled eyes, all because of him.

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

With every day that passed, Nesta realized more and more how utterly insane Coach Carver actually was.

Did he honestly truly believe that switching to pairs skating less than a month before competition season started, was going to work? Because it seemed to Nesta like the whole thing was a waste of fucking time. She could have been working on her triple loop, busting her ass off, pushing towards that National title in ladies singles. Not getting dropped on the hard ice every five seconds.

She was good. Better than good, actually. One of the best in the country. Even without the National title to her name. Nesta knew that. She fed off of it. The fact that everyone knew who she was before she had even won a title - it’s what drove her. Every year, she knew she had to do better than the last. She pushed boundaries. She did what others would deem impossible.

It apparently wasn’t uncommon for skaters to switch from singles to pairs. People actually did it all the time. But one night, Nesta had decided to see exactly what her odds of success were. Even if she normally did what others couldn't, she just had to know.

What she found made her furious.

Tons of skaters switched from singles to pairs, but almost each and every one of them took a year off to practice. To learn the elements, to perfect them.

They didn’t do all of that in just under two fucking months.

Nesat went to bed that night seeing red.

“Again.” Coach Carver’s voice was emotionless. He stood off to the side, hands in his pockets, face almost bored.

Nesta grinded her teeth. Her irritation was written all over her face. They’d been stuck on that one jump all day. Nesta just wanted to move on, start working on perfecting the routine.

A routine that she hated with a passion. A routine that she and Cassian had to skate together in about two weeks.

Standing next to her, Cassian took in a breath, eyes closed for a moment, face paler than normal.

The first time she’d seen him like that at their first practice, looking virtually sick, she was worried. But only for herself, she thought. Because he was supposed to throw her in the air. She didn’t want to break her leg because Cassian looked ready to pass out.

But over the past few weeks, she realized he always acted that way around Coach Carver. He always squirmed under his gaze, always kept his distance, and hardly spoke back.

The thought brought Nesta the slightest bit of satisfaction.

Who would have thought the mighty Cassian Guerrero would be scared of Coach Carver?

Without meeting her eyes, Cassian grabbed Nesta’s hand. Silently, the two skated up the ice.

There never was much talking between them when they were working on an element. A problem Coach Carver demanded they fix.

“How do you expect to connect on the ice when you can’t even mumble two words to each other?”

Nesta didn’t want to talk to Cassian though. Skating together was bad enough, she didn’t want to actually carry out a conversation with him. Besides, when Cassian did talk to her, it was all flirty jokes and smug smiles. He pushed her buttons to the point where she almost wanted to make it impossible for him to have children someday. Every time he said something to her, she knew he was teasing, playing, challenging her to bite back.

Aside from the night of the hockey game.

The words cut through Nesta so fast, so suddenly, it felt like a physical blow.

She tried to push them away, tried not to think about them as she squeezed Cassian’s hand tightly. So tightly that she almost thought she’d break it. But he didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at her as they flipped backward, setting up their lutz twist lift.

Nesta cleared her head as best as she could. But it was hard when Cassian’s hands came to rest on her hips. She could feel the heat from them burning through her clothes, setting her skin aflame. She drove her toepick into the ice, jumping into the air as Cassian threw her at the same time.

Coach Carver had been right when he said it would be easier for them to learn pairs because they’d both been skating for a long while. At first, all the jumps and lifts had been simple. The press lift, hand-to-hand lifts, swan lift - they were all fairly easy. Until they had started adding footwork, or changing positions mid-air, or doing difficult dismounts. Until they had started learning the harder lifts, the ones they had to put more trust in.

The twist lift was one of said jumps.

Nesta pulled in tight, rotating through the air - One… Two… Two and a half...

Cassian’s hands grabbed her as she came down, resting on her ribs.

She would have rather had him drop her.

She held her landing position as Cassian’s hand found hers once again - was there always so much fucking hand holding in pairs? - her face in pure rage.

“Fuck’s sake,” she hissed, coming to a stop. “This is never going to fucking work.”

“Not with that attitude.”

Nesta’s razor-sharp gaze cut to Cassian. His stunning hazel eyes sparkled at her, like a warm cup of tea during a cold winter's morning. Those damn lips were pulled up in the corners. Was his smile always crooked? Or was it just his smirk? Why did she fucking care?

Her skin flushed when she suddenly realized they were still holding hands. But she kept her gaze locked with his, never one to back down from a challenge.

Despite herself, her mind traveled back to that night at the hockey game. The night she saw Tomas for the first time in a while. And she hated how angry he still made her. She hated that he still had any effect on her. But most of all, she hated how she still felt the need to lock up tight, like a snake ready to pounce, whenever he was around.

All she could think about was him, all she saw was Tomas. Then, Tomas was suddenly replaced with Cassian. Cassian and his open, raw, genuinely sincere gaze. It was a gaze Nesta had never seen directed at her before, a look she never thought she’d see on Cassian’s face. It struck her deeper then she wanted to admit. It stuck with her longer then she would have liked. Yet, she found herself clinging to that one look, that one memory, in the darkest of nights.

And that fucking terrified her. And irritated her beyond belief.

Neither of them had mentioned it since it happened. And Nesta didn’t have any plans to bring it up anytime soon.

As if she’d been burned, Nesta ripped her hand out of Cassian’s. Her brows were drawn tightly together, fire racing in her veins. Cassian’s smile simply grew wider. But there was something there - an underlying emotion in his eyes that Nesta couldn't really place.

She played it off as stress, because as much as he tried to hid it, Nesta knew Cassian was just as stressed about the practices as she was.

“I’m not sure if you’re both aware of this, Ms. Archeron -” Coach Carver's face floated towards them, still emotionless - “But you’re supposed to do three rotations in the air. And Mr. Guerrero, you’re suppose to catch her at her hips.”

“We know.” Nesta spoke through clenched teeth. She watched as Cassian paled slightly next to her.

Coach Carver simply raised an eyebrow at them as they skated towards him. “There how come you have yet to do either of those things? Remember, this is your opening jump. It sets the tone for the whole routine.”

“We. Know.” Nesta was sure she was going to break her jaw if she clenched it any tighter.

“Then start acting like you want to win.” Coach Carver’s tone was matter-of-fact, as though he was talking about the weather, and not the potential and of their skating careers. “Trust each other. Hell, speak to each other. I don’t know if you realize this, Ms. Archeron, but you’re going up against your sister and Mr. Knight. Both of whom-”

“We’ll give it another try, sir.”

Part of Nesta was aware of Cassian speaking. Shocked even, that he actually had the nerve to cut Coach Carver off. But the rest Nesta was too damn pissed at that moment.

She was very aware of the fact that she was going against Feyre and Rhys - two of the most connected people in the world. Current National titleholders. Hoping to be World titleholders by the end of the season. She didn’t need fucking reminding, thank you very much.

A beat of silence passed over them, and Coach Carver waved them off. Nesta grabbed Cassian’s hand, gripping it tightly. She felt him give her hand a small squeeze, her skin burning against his. But she didn’t so much as look at him. She simply focused on the ice, on the moves she had memorized. She let her hate, her anger, her irritation, and her passion feed her as they picked up speed.

That was how the rest of the practice passed by. They practiced the twist lift over and over again. Sometimes it seemed like they were actually getting somewhere. Then they would take three steps backward again.

By the end of the practice, they had landed the lift somewhat well only once. And Nesta’s irritation level was through the roof.

She was hoping to talk to Coach Carver after practice. She wanted to rip his throat out for putting her through it all. For making her pick between skating pairs or not skating at all. But when the time was up, he simply gave them a nod and hardly spoke two words before leaving the ice himself.

Nesta cursed him to hell as she untied her skates more aggressively than she needed to.

They needed to practice more. That would definitely help them out. As much as she didn’t want to spend any more time with Cassian than necessary, she could deal with it for the time being if it lead to her National title. There was no way out of it at that point. So if hitting the gym and doing off-ice practices with Cassian would get her that title, she’d suck it up for at least the season and do it.

Besides, maybe then they’d form whatever magical connection Coach Carver wanted them to form.

The Feyre-and-Rhys connection.

Nesta snorted out loud at the thought.

She quickly got to work on the other skate, untying it before pulling it off her foot. She quickly got ready and hurried off, rushing to catch Cassian before he left so she could tell him they were having an extra practice that night.

The guys’ dressing room was right across from the one the girls used. Therefore, Nesta simply lent against the wall, listening to the Zamboni clean the ice. The sounds of junior hockey players filled the air, drifting over her from where they stood on the other side of the rink.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait that long. The dressing room door opened and Cassian came strolling out. His bag was pulled over his shoulder, cell phone in hand as he typed away on the screen.

“We need to practice more,” Nesta said in a way of greeting, stepping away from the wall.

Cassian stopped mid-step. His gaze slowly lifted from his phone before he took his time looking her up and down. Nesta couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine as a sly smile started to form on his lips.

“Come again?”

“Today’s practice was terrible.” Nesta couldn't help but roll her eyes as she explained. “All of our practices have been terrible. Therefore, the only way to make sure we’re actually ready for Regionals is to have more practice.”

She felt like she was talking to a damn five-year-old.

“Is this your way of saying you want to spend more time with me, sweetheart?” The smile on Cassian’s face grew.

“This is my way of saying I want a National title,” she snapped back. “And it seems like the only way I’m getting it now is if I work with you.”

“You’re so kind to me.”

“So, tonight,” Nesta continued on, ignoring him. “The ice is free from seven to eight. We’ll have our extra practice then. And after that we’ll figure out when all the others will be. Plus gym time and off-ice training.”

Cassian crossed his massive arms over his chest. He raised an eyebrow at her, that ever-present smirk on his lips. “How do you know the ice is free tonight?”

Nesta crossed her own arms. “I always know when the ice is free.”

“Of course you do.” A rumbling chuckle left Cassian’s lips as he glanced down at his phone again. “Sadly, I already have plans tonight. So I won’t actually be able to make our little date.”

“What do you mean you have plans?” Nesta’s blood was slowly starting to boil.

“With everyone,” he said, as if she knew who everyone was. And sadly, she did. “We’re going to Rita’s for drinks.”

“We have a routine to perfect in just two weeks.” Nesta had to clench her jaw to stop from yelling.

“And I have a beer waiting for me,” Cassian said, finally looking up at her. “You can come if you’d like. Your sister is going to be there.”

“We have to practice.” How did he not understand that?

Cassian simple waved her off. “We already train seven days a week, usually twice a day. I think we'll be fine.”

“You think we’ll be fine?” Nesta was finding it harder and harder to control her voice. “Our routine is a mess! We haven’t perfected half our jumps. We still need to work on our-”

“And one practice isn’t going to make that big of a difference.” Cassian hoisted his bag farther up his shoulder. “Relaxing outside of skating is sometimes the best practice of all, Nes.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You sure you don’t want to come?” Cassian typed one last message on his phone before placing it in his pocket. “It’ll be fun.”

“I’m not coming,” Nesta snapped, blood racing.

But Cassian simply flashed her a smile. He gave a little shrug of his shoulders before turning on his heel and starting for the door.

He couldn't be serious. Nesta wanted nothing more than to throw something at that big head of his. Did he not realize how important it all was? How serious? Did it just not matter to him that they were competing in just over two weeks? Did he even want a National title? Because like Nesta, he had yet to win one. But Nesta honestly didn’t know if he even truly cared.

With her blood thumping in her ears, Nesta gripped the strap of her bag tightly. Her eyes were glaring daggers at Cassian. However, it was what he said next that had her actually planning his murder.

He had stopped at the main doors of the rink. His eyes locked with hers, and the electrical charge that went through her was undeniable.

“You know, there’s more to life than just skating, Nes.” Cassian’s voice was deep, Nesta’s burning gaze never leaving his. “It might do you some good to actually do something fun once in a while.”

The howling wind and freezing rain drifted into the rink as Cassian pulled open the door. He walked outside, leaving Nesta standing there alone before she could say a single word.  

[linssikeittomies]

The Place Between Here An There - Chapter 2: Ship Of Fools

Masterpost     AO3

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8   Chapter 9  Chapter 9(cont’d)

Ugh, Alfred is so hard to write! His POVs are all Thing happens, thing happens, thing happens, he has a thought, thing happens… Ivan’s POV is more like Thing happens, he has a thought about the thing, that reminds him of past thing, thing happens… And Alfred has too many non-plot-important friends, but leaving them out feels even more wrong because he’s a people person first and foremost. He does get more thinkey later, but at this point of the story he doesn’t really worry about anything so he doesn’t have too many thoughts floating around his brain. His parts feel like such filler orz Try and bear with me orz I got so sick of looking at this mess and not being able to write it the way I wanted to so I decided to screw it and let it be, filler-y and bad and all.

–

“Morning, sunshine!” a happy voice greeted Ivan right as he stirred. The grating cheeriness revealed the identity of the perpetrator before Ivan even opened his eyes. The act only confirmed that the annoying idiot was grinning from ear to ear. Seeing that his bedmate was somewhat awake encouraged the American to rise up on his elbows to peer down with an excited look. So he was near-sighted, since he hadn’t put on his glasses.

“Dobroye utro”, Ivan muttered, not sure if he was glad to see Alfred or not. The novelty of being treated like a normal human being was fading quickly now that he wasn’t allowed to wake up at his own pace. “Are you really a cop?” Alfred queried with badly contained glee, leaning in closer with his morning breath. With a grimace Ivan turned his head slightly, and Alfred seemed to get the hint. “Yes, a detective.” “Man, that’s so cool! I applied to the academy a few years back, but I had speeding tickets, and the air force didn’t want me for some reason so I’m still-“ Probably a store clerk. Maybe a cleaner. Likely living on his parents’ money. “- a fireman and it’s great ‘cause I’m saving lives and all, but man, cops! I love cops!” Yeah, right. This infuriating loser seemed barely literate. Pro wrestling would suit him much better: prancing around in embarrassing clothes yelling cringey lines, and no one would notice if he got brain damage. Claiming he actually did important work was the most bold-faced lie Ivan had heard in his life. “But how in the hell did you get in? Did you kill all the other applicants?” “How rude. I was never linked to those cases.” Alfred pretended to be struck dumb, and clutched his pearls like a scandalized granny. “I was hoping you’d claim to be the paragon of justice, but you just ran with it! How am I supposed to make fun of you with that attitude?” he laughed as he sat up, dragging the covers up with him and then letting them fall off his shoulders. The move revealed his toned chest and subtle six-pack again. Ivan contemplated taking a spied look between his legs, but decided against it. His senses were returning slowly, but the insecurity had already creeped in almost full swing. He pretended to be cold and wrapped the covers more tightly around him. “It’s not an attitude. It’s the truth.” Alfred laughed and told Ivan to dress his ugly ass, he was making pancakes. Ivan was not one to say no to a free meal, and the company only left something to desire.

Even if waking up next to someone was a questionable joy, having someone to eat breakfast with was undoubtedly pleasant. Much time had passed since the last time Ivan had a discussion at the table. They used to be common in the old days, and the siblings especially had been practically glued together, but then the thing happened and everything went to hell. Their family dynamics never got back to normal, even after 19 years of stability and moving halfway across the globe. It had no longer felt natural – one was missing and one became an outsider. It was almost more distracting to have his sisters in the same table than eating alone. But with Alfred there was no history so he couldn’t be reminded of anything, and as a result he found himself genuinely enjoying the moment. “Well, ya just don’t look the part, yannow? Think Magnum PI! Ya need a square jaw and a cool baritone voice and a great mustache.” “So what kind of cop do I look like?” “Hmmmm…” Alfred hummed and held an exaggeratedly long pause, took a bite off his pancakes, chewed and then shrugged. “I dunno, the kind who negs decent people and takes advantage of drunk guys?” Ivan shrugged nonchalantly.  “Guilty as charged”, he agreed. He doubted Alfred had actually been all that drunk by the time they left the restaurant, and the stumble had been a conspiracy to make Ivan take him home. He still had trouble imagining Katyushka scheming like this, because she had always been the most honest and straightforward of the family. Her saintly nature must have come from a distant ancestor. “So are you gonna go and brag to all your friends about how you finally scored with a conscious person?” “I hesitate to call someone with your level of brain activity conscious.” “But you will brag to all your friends?” “I don’t have friends”, Ivan’s mouth said with brutal honesty before his brain could shut it up. His breath got stuck in his throat as he waited for inevitable pitying look. It always happened. He could be as terrifying as he wanted, the second anyone learned about his sorry excuse of a social life they suddenly saw him a charity case, defective, helpless… Nothing could be further from the truth, but nothing would convince the hypocrites  that Ivan didn’t need anyone, people were only in the way, and he didn’t care for backstabbing gold diggers or emotional leeches. Jones was a person, Ivan had no use for him. God spared him just this once. Alfred, oblivious to anything but a jackhammer to the skull, missed his slip completely and continued with the friendly hostility. “Small wonder, with your personality.” Ivan was well aware of his flaws, but could do nothing to change them. His path had formed in front him on its own on that day and there were no side roads. He wasn’t like Jones, who had a say in what happened to him. He had no business commenting on what he knew nothing about, but spoken like a true American, he felt the need to police everyone else and just flap his mouth hole to make noise for the sake of it. And he had such a grating voice, too. Ivan wanted to get out of this apartment yesterday. “More coffee?” “Yes, please.” Watching Jones stuff his face with pancakes made Ivan wonder what he even found appealing about the glutton at this point. He was a slob with terrible table manners who loved putting people down. That answered the question of why he hadn’t gotten laid in ages, at least. He should get drunk more often, it seemed to better his odds. “Do you have the day off?” Ivan asked. He almost regretted it, since Jones didn’t bother swallowing his half-eaten pancakes, choosing instead to spit soggy crumbs all over the table. Ivan quickly lifted his coffee off it. Jones failed to take the hint, as expected. “Yeah, but my cousin’s coming over. I’ll have to kick you out by noon.” Ivan hadn’t been planning to stay after breakfast. He hadn’t planned to stay the night. Having to leave in a few hours was no problem for him. And even if he had been free to stay as long as he wanted, which was not a single minute by the way, he was a busy man. He had things to do. Plans to review. He wouldn’t stay even if Jones begged to blow him. “I’ll be gone before that.” Jones smirked coyly, for reasons unknown to Ivan. “Do you wear the uniform?” Ah, he was one who loved a man in uniform. Ivan could hardly blame him, he himself couldn’t resist a suit with a tie. Wonderful toys they were, so versatile, never failed to make him want to pull. He’d like to put one on Jones, for so many reasons. “Only for special occasions.” Ivan would have liked to have a newspaper at the table. The absence of one didn’t exactly surprise Ivan, Jones didn’t strike him as the type to read, even magazines. It was excusable – in his line of work it wasn’t important to know what had went on during the night. For Ivan, it was both a necessary evil and a questionable joy. Not knowing the latest updates when he walked into the office was considered bad work morale, and that’s where news apps really came in handy. A newspaper, after all, first had to go into print, and then be delivered. While all that happened, ten new things had unfolded. It was still nice to have a physical page in his hands, feel the crinkle. They were easily stored. Ivan had a whole bookcase dedicated to newspaper and magazine clippings: cold cases, cases he’d worked on, PD bashings, survival stories, true crime articles… Lately he had taken to throwing out some of the older things to make room for all the Baton killer related articles. 7 confirmed victims, 5 suspected, and that was only after a year and half of activity. Despite what you heard in popular media, it was actually quite rare for a serial killer to have more than 4 victims per year. Reporters liked to play up the numbers, speculating at least a dozen victims, but even more than that they liked blaming the police department for not catching the raving lunatic. Their words, not his – from the evidence and bodies it was clear as day the Baton killer was not crazy. Yes, he never bothered hiding the bodies well, but there was never any evidence left. Every body was cleaned thoroughly after the act to dispose of any DNA evidence, there was never a glimpse of him in security footage, no one ever reported seeing someone who didn’t belong… It takes meticulous planning and a clear mind to do something that carefully. The police weren’t even completely sure they were dealing with a male killer – the only reason to suspect that was that among the victims were two large men who had last been seen in gay bars, and an unopened condom left on the body of one female who had been reported to be fiercely faithful to her clean husband. Ivan didn’t like not knowing things. He got anxious when he couldn’t be sure. It should have been common courtesy to have one paper at the table. “A suit, then?” Ivan shook his head. He preferred wearing his everyday clothes to work, because they made him look just a bit less intimidating. A suit was a double-edged sword: on one hand, it tended to make people more nervous and slip up, but on the other, it isolated him further. Normal human interactions were few and far between for Ivan, so he cherished every single one. This was why he liked dealing with the the deaf: they couldn’t tell the disparity between his voice and stature, so they assumed he was just a normal, large man. In this Alfred resembled them. The bad thing about Jones was that he was insufferable. Ivan had a hunch Jones would be difficult with the authorities, just for the sake of being difficult. “Betcha you’d look hot in one”, Alfred said, winking. Ivan didn’t agree. He didn’t think he looked hot in most clothes. He still muttered a thank you because he wasn’t on the mood to argue.

~¨:.:¨~

Jeez, this guy was just too cute! No adult man should be allowed to have such an adorable face! The way he shyly blushed and averted his eyes to the side combined with his huge stature did something incredibly pleasant to Al. It was getting the best of two worlds. He tended to go for the big, tough guys, but enjoyed the odd twink every now and then, and here he had two for the price of one! Moving to the big city really was the best damn decision he had made in his life. Rural Kentucky just didn’t have these types. “Unlike you, no doubt”, Ivan answered weakly, and Al grinned again. He couldn’t explain why he liked exchanging insults so much. He did it all the time with Arthur, too, but the Brit always got pissed too quickly. Mattie’s game was too strong, so Al no longer did it with him. But now he had a new playmate! One that liked the game just as much! He hadn’t had this much fun since last night, and with any luck he might be able to convince the Russian babe for round two of that, as well! Maybe one day he could bring the insult game to bed? “Yeah, but I look good naked”, Al shot back. Ivan rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee again. “You get cross-eyed when you take off your glasses.” “Do not! Take that back, fatso!” With a teasing smile Ivan raised his gun again. “And you smell terrible. Have you showered in the last three days?” “Didn’t bother you last night.” “I had a momentary lapse of standards. The culture must be damaging my brain.” Aaahhh, that accent! That was paradise, right there! Ivan really had everything: looks, personality, huge body, huge dick… He should marry the guy before he wriggled away. The way to a man’s heart goes through his stomach, right? “Sure you don’t want pancakes?” Alfred confirmed. He was almost offended Ivan had refused them the first time. While his weren’t as divine as Mattie’s, they could still make a man moan in pleasure. Pancakes were the one food he never made from instant mix or in a microwave. “I am sure.” Al pouted and poured some more syrup on his stack. Fine, be that way!Vodka had probably ruined his tastebuds anyway, so he couldn’t appreciate the pancakes if he wanted to. Ivan gulped down the last of his coffee and got up. “Leaving already?” “I have work. Thank you for the coffee.” Work on Sunday? What kind of breakthrough had they had in whatever case Ivan was working on? Detectives usually only worked weekdays 9 to 5. “No prob. See ya ‘round!” Ivan scoffed as he put on his coat. He was wearing three layers, and it wasn’t even that cold yet. Guess he was just always cold, if he needed two sweaters even indoors. “No one would want to see you again. You are a headache on feet.” Al laughed. A lot of people commented on his loud voice, usually telling him to turn it down a notch. He just didn’t have an indoor voice and he got excited so easily. “And my ears are ringing from listening to you squeaking”, he joked back. He wondered why Ivan decided to use such a weird voice. Obviously he had a much deeper natural pitch, but it hadn’t come out much even last night. He sounded like a prepubescent boy. It added to his cute image, but couldn’t have been easy to produce. Maybe it was an effect of growing up with two high-pitched sisters? “Are you the youngest?” “The youngest what?” Ivan asked, voice muffled from the pale pink scarf. Another cute quirk, didn’t fit his towering height and wide shoulders at all. “Sibling. Katie’s the oldest, right?” “Yes. Katyusha is four years older and Natasha is five years younger.” “Really? You and Natalie look the same age. Do you look young or does she look old?” “It could be a little bit of both.” Ivan had his hand on the knob, but hesitated. Al tilted his head questioningly, and Ivan reached a decision. He dug out a pen from his pocket, but couldn’t find paper, so he wrote his number on the wall instead. “Call me if you want to go drinking sometime.” “After you ruin my fucking wall?! In your dreams!” Ivan gave an infuriating little smirk and closed the door after him. Damn that Russki and his adorable ways. How long should Al wait before he called?  The same day would be needy and a little creepy, but he didn’t want to wait two days! Agh, this was just like that one time in Montana! Or, Christ, Tex! He couldn’t handle another bi-curious cutie deciding he wanted to stick to women! The guy was just too much fun, Al really liked just hanging out with him, not that he minded the afterhours, either… After wolfing down his seventh pancake Al did his morning pushups and jog. Artie had been right in that age would eventually catch up with him and he’d need to work harder to stay in shape. With his steady diet of junk food it was really a miracle he was so fit. Musta been good genes. Pissed Artie off to no end. Speaking of, he should clean up the place. Neither of them was looking forward to Mister Cleanliness nagging about Al’s housekeeping skills. It didn’t really even matter, no one in the history in the world had died of a few shirts on the floor, or a few weeks’ dust, or a messy closet, and penicillin had been discovered in dirty dishes. And so what if there was some food gone bad in the fridge, they were in closed containers, the bugs weren’t about to strongarm open the lids. Ehh, Artie was still three hours away, he had time. He could play some Mortal Kombat first. He needed to practice Kenshi’s fatalities anyway. And while he was on the sofa anyway, he might as well try out that GTA swing glitch! Oldie but goodie.

Knock knock. “Who’s there?” Just kidding, Al already knew it was Artie. His British cousin was the only person in the world who knocked when there was a perfectly good doorbell. “It’s me.” “Me who?” “Arthur, you bloody twat! Open up!” Sigh, ol’ Artie never played along. All he laughed at was that Monty Python show. Poor guy, he’d die an early death thanks to never laughing. Al threw the controller on the couch and got up to get the door. Yikes, those eyebrows were still a shock every time. “I swear you grow like twenty new hairs every time I see you!” Al commented, earning an irritated sigh from his cousin. After 17 years he didn’t need to ask what Al meant by that. “And you accumulate more and trash in your place. Three copies of Die Hard 2?” Artie whined looking at the living room table. Well, at least he wasn’t bitching about the dirty coffee cups and plates on the kitchen table. He should be a maid, he was so great at whining about pointless stuff. After setting his luggage in a corner, Artie made a show of placing the Xbox controller on the coffee table and making himself at home on the couch, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. “Never again!” he announced. “This baby screamed the whole flight and my neighbour spilled his orange juice all over my trousers.” Seeing Al eyeing his perfectly dry pants, he explained. “I changed in the airport toilet.” “Wanna throw them in the washing machine?” “Go ahead.” Artie’s suitcases were works of art. He knew just the way to tightroll everything and exactly how much of any given thing was needed, then filled every square inch so perfectly it looked like a Tetris high score. Speaking of Tetris! “Hey, Artie! Guess who scored with a cop last night?” “Alfred, please! I don’t want to hear about your sex life!” “But he was so great! So tall and cool and burly and cute! And I got his number!” Artie gave him a confused look from under his arm. “Burly and cute? That’s a combination you don’t hear often.” “I know! But it was awesome! God, I wish I had a photo to show you, he was just perfect! He’s a detective!” Artie lifted his feet off the couch to let Al plop down next to him. “He acted all cool and aloof and then blushed when I said he’d look hot in a suit! It was adorable!” Al knew he was gushing like a teenage girl about her latest celebrity crush but he couldn’t help it! This was the single greatest thing that had happened to him since… since he first got laid, basically! “And he’s a cop! I’ve never seen a cop like him! He wrote his number on the wall”, Al helpfully pointed at the number scratched on the wall paper. The wince on Artie’s face was great. “You two seem like you would get along swell”, he muttered. “I know! He’s not at all uptight like you are!” “It’s called being a functioning adult! You git!” “A functioning adult would have brought me Cadbury creme eggs!” “The last time I did you thought I was flirting with you!” Oh right, it had been the day before Valentine’s and Artie had been blushing for some reason.

They cleaned up the place together. Artie tried to cook “as a reward”, which would have been about as much of a reward as a death penalty. Al insisted he wouldn’t make a guest cook, so they went out for dinner, even though Artie hardly counted as a guest. He was rarely over, thanks to the ocean between them, but the guy was as much family as Mattie. Every time he stayed at Al’s place it was like a roommate coming home. Artie didn’t buy the excuse, as he never did, and claimed Al needed a good English dinner in him just once and would never go back, as he always did. This was routine for them. Everything about Artie was familiar. He had gone through a few phases in his teens and early twenties, but ever since becoming a premature grandpa the only thing that changed were his clothes. He was as stagnant as Mattie. “You gonna go see Mattie after dropping by our folks?” “I don’t have time”, Artie said. “I only have three days left and I couldn’t get a ticket. I’ll see him on Christmas.” It was something of a tradition for the whole extended family to gather at Mattie’s place on Christmas, since he was one of the few who didn’t switch apartments every year. Not everyone could make it at the same time, some stayed for a few days before Christmas and some dropped in to say hi on Christmas Day. Al always stayed in the guest room, but the sheer number of relatives forced the large majority to stay in hotels. Artie got a mattress on the floor the years his pervert husband stayed home. They had learned from the first time. “Francis is still working out his schedule so I’m not sure if he can make it.” “Good! He’s already got a hubby, he shouldn’t hit on Mattie!” Francis was an okay guy most of the time, but you better not let your guard down or you’d find his hands down your pants. How Artie hadn’t dumped his cheating ass was something Al would never understand. If he ever started going steady, he wouldn’t forgive a single stray ogle. Luckily Ivan didn’t seem like the type to cheat, since it had taken him so long to even realize Al had been hitting on him from the first sentence he had said to him. It didn’t look like the guy had much of a sex drive. “And he better stay the hell away from my date, too!” “Your date? Weren’t you single just a few hours ago?” “I’m talking about that cop!” Artie made a face, but Al couldn’t figure out what he had said wrong this time. “Al, you only met the guy yesterday, and now you’re bringing him to Canada for Christmas?” “No! I mean, I could, I think we really clicked and I’m of course awesome so he totally wouldn’t say no.” Another face, more concerned than exasperated this time. “Oh come on Artie, be a little more happy for me wontcha?” “I am, it’s just that – you’ve been hurt before, because you get so into it far too early.” Right, Tex. But this was different from Tex! Ivan was completely comfortable being with men! He wouldn’t pull the same “incompatible” stunt he had! Ivan and Al went so well together, they liked the same things, they understood each other, and talking was so easy between them. Talking with Tex had sometimes been like pulling teeth. “I’ll be fine! I’m a grown man! And it’s just for fun – I just meant I wouldn’t object to getting serious if he wants to.” “Well – good luck”, Artie muttered. “Thanks!”

The next morning Al woke up to a horrible smell drifting from the kitchen. Not the worst Artie had ever caused, but it still made his eyes water. The sentiment was nice, but Artie just didn’t get that his breakfast would be put to better use in torture chambers. They did the usual song and dance – Artie claiming his cooking was great and Al just didn’t understand the fine undertones of British cuisine, and Al dumping his portion in the garbage and frying a healthy dose of bacon. Then they went sightseeing, since this was Artie’s first time in this city – the last time he had been living in Waynesburg. He’d leave tomorrow while Al was at work, so they had to make the day nice, since they would next see each other on Christmas. Granted, they talked daily but it still felt important to part on friendly terms. The one time they hadn’t, Artie had cut all contact with Al for 5 years. It didn’t matter that it had been over a decade ago, that before and after they were thick as thieves. So the next morning Al let his cousin make breakfast, bravely swallowed one bite and washed it down with half a gallon of Coke, and finished with three sunny side ups. Artie insisted his “baked beans”, that is, a sad, dry heap of something bumpy, and black pudding were delicious and nutritious. That might have been the case with store-bought “pudding” that had no business being called pudding, if the ingredient’s weren’t so god damn gross to begin with. “It’s an acquired taste, that’s for sure”, Al muttered in response. How Artie was capable of swallowing his own hellish productions was a mystery for the ages. He was married to a master chef and still lived in a delusional world where his own cooking wouldn’t be censored in daytime TV. Al left the Brit to shovel his indescribable “consumables” alone, and 15 minutes later arrived at the station. “Morning, guys!” “Morning”, greeted a chorus. A slow night, then, if so many were at the station. José made space for Al at the table and they went over the incidents of the last shift. A couple car crashes, two kitchen fires, one false alarm. Such a big city and so few incidents, that couldn’t last. Today would have to be busy. Stu dug out the playing cards after the last shift went home. They were starting the second round of poker when duty called the first time – a false alarm from an old folks’ home, something had spilled on the stove and triggered the alarm. One of the nurses made eyes at Stu, who never wasted a chance to flirt with a pretty face. “Way to keep it professional, Stu”, Jack sighed back in the truck. Jack was a forty-year old virgin. Word on the street was he’d never had a single girlfriend, or boyfriend, and that was why he was so frustrated. He spent most of his free time exercising and fishing. “I just made her day”, Stu argued proudly. He never went beyond flirting, as far as Al knew – the man worshiped his wife. His phone memory was 90% pictures of her. That reminded Al - should he have called Ivan yesterday? Al knew he wouldn’t mind being contacted the next morning, but Artie did keep telling him he was the most socially clueless bloke in the world, so maybe he shouldn’t trust his own judgment? Why hadn’t he asked Artie yesterday? The old man might not have been in the game for a decade, but he had to still have some memories from his single days! “Hey Jack, suppose you gave your number to a girl. Wouldja think she was desperate if she called you the next day?” Jack sighed exasperatedly, like he always did when Al asked him for relationship advice. “I don’t know. I never know anything you ask! Think whatever you think.” “I just wanna make sure! ‘Cause I don’t wanna drive away a good guy by being creepy.” “You’ll drive him away by being obnoxious”, Jack snapped. “Can we please concentrate on work instead of your sex life?” “I’d rather not think about all the dick my coworker is sucking, either”, Stu commented from behind the wheel. Had it been anyone else, Al would have punched them. Stu was chill, he just had a crass sense of humor and no brain-to-mouth filter. “Honestly though, wait until next evening but not longer. You’ll want to seem interested.” Shit, so was it already too late?! A day and a half had already passed! And the station was still ten minutes away! Had he already screwed up his chance? Jeez, stay cool, man! Ivan was totally into him, if anything he’d be overjoyed Al had remembered him! Yeah, that sounded much better. Al could salvage this. Right when they got to the station he’d call. Riiiiight… nnnnnnnnnoooooooooow! “I need to make a call!” he yelled and sprinted for the relative peace of the locker room.

~¨:.:¨~

Ivan was in no mood for solicitors right now. Staring at files and security footage for hours on end was soul-sucking work enough without some young hopeful desperately begging him to buy just this one amazing supplement that comes free with this subscription of these seven home improvement magazines only for 19.99 per month! Ivan never had problems hanging up on them immediately but that didn’t take away the reminder of outside life. For now, the only place that was supposed to exist was this sleazy alley with dismal lighting where one frame in a week’s worth might or might not reveal that Richard Boyarin had walked by it at some point during his vacation. Incredibly important work. Ivan frowned at the screen. It was a number he didn’t have saved on his phone. That was no news, he had a total of eight numbers in there. Two were his sisters’, one his boss’, one his partner’s, one for the station front desk, three for delivery food. He suddenly had the irrationally hopeful thought that it might be Alfred. Absurd as the notion was, it was tempting. And Toris clearly wanted him to silence the ringing, so why not try his luck? Anything would be better than trying to distinguish the black pixels from the other, slightly less black pixels. Fully prepared to be disappointed, Ivan answered as harshly as he could. “Alyo?” ”Hey Vanya, it’s Alfred!” Thoroughly shocked, but altogether pleased, Ivan felt an unexpectedly honest smile forming on his face, and casually insulted Alfred’s pronunciation. “Oh screw you, I did fine. You free tomorrow night?” Alfred’s nasal voice asked, completely carefree and smiling widely. Typical American, but at least Alfred’s smile wasn’t deceitful. He smiled because he was happy, not because he needed a good tip to pay his bills. Ivan was free, and had the feeling he would even make himself free if he hadn’t been. But the idiot didn’t need to know that, his ego was bloated enough already. “Hmm…” Pausing as if to check his calendar, Ivan lifted a finger to his lips at the nervously disapproving Toris. There was never any evidence in the Baton killer’s cases anyway. Of course not a single hair, spit drop or footprint had been found in this one either, which was the whole reason they had been forced to turn to these good as useless security tapes. The only thing ever found were the bodies, and that they had already analyzed to Hell and back, and of course it had revealed nothing new. Why pour over the same old evidence, hour after countless hour without any breaks? There would be a new victim, perhaps soon, even, there had been a long break between the last two. Then they could actually work. “Yes, I have a few hours after seven.” It wouldn’t do to look too eager. Ivan Braginski did not chase after men. “Great! Wanna go out? Rocker’s has a party celebrating the owner’s daughter’s birthday so they’ll have free booze! See you there at eight!” It better not be punch. “I suppose. What’s the address?” “It’s right next to orthodox church, you’ll find it!” If he found the church. Ivan rarely paid attention to places of worship, and then only to avoid them. Well, he would just Google the place later. Couldn’t be too many Orthodox churches in a city like this. He wondered if Alfred suggested the place because he thought Ivan had an inclination towards the Eastern church. “And hey, you never showed me your badge”, Alfred whined. An adult man, so fixated on badges, how cute. “You didn’t ask.” “Well show it to me tomorrow! You’ll love it”, Alfred said, wiggling his eyebrows so hard they almost rode the electronic waves to Ivan’s desk. He truly did like cops. Alfred was delightfully childish in a way that was funny for a few hours, but no one could take for more than a day at a time. One could only imagine how he had been as an actual child. Ten times as bad, or exactly the same? Maybe some boys never did grow up, as they say. “Only If you promise to stop whining.” “I promise nothing! Come onnnn, I’ll show ya my hose…” Again the eyebrows wiggled and Ivan almost snickered. Such a strange person. How old was he? He had looked a bit younger than Ivan, so maybe thirty or late twenties? A good age, young enough to enjoy fun but not young enough go overboard, old enough to understand life but not old enough to be weary of it. “Well in that case. Will you show me how it works?” “Oh, I’ll show you all right, and let you try…” This time Ivan did snort. “Tone down the eyebrows and I might take up your offer”, he chuckled, making Toris tilt his head in confusion. It couldn’t be that odd to hear Ivan laugh, could it? Surely he had done it in his partner’s presence before. “Eyebrows?” Alfred asked and the eyebrows stopped wiggling. He must have done it instinctively so he didn’t even pick up on it. Ivan wouldn’t be surprised – Alfred hardly seemed the perceptive type. The only things he could think about were probably sex, cheetos and beer. “You want me to pluck ‘em? They’re kinda thin already…” “Nevermind. Just make sure to impress me and you’ll get something good in return”, Ivan smirked, whirling around on his office chair. “Ivan –“ Toris attempted, but a quick hushing from Ivan silenced him and made him go back to studying the badly pixellated security footage. “Oh, do you have company?” “Just my partner. We’re going through some evidence.” Thank you, Toris. Live a little, nerd. “Jeez, you should have said you were at work. Tell me all about it later! Seven at Rocker’s! Bye!” “Bye.” With a heavy sigh Ivan put his phone back in his pocket. Security footage was easily the most mind-numbing part of police work, even worse than paper work, and in homicide investigation it contrasted so badly with the actual interesting part it felt ten times more tedious than in any other department. “Toris, you wouldn’t mind getting me a coffee?” Toris silently nodded and scurried off. The diminutive Lithuanian was an interesting mix of courage and nerves: on the job he wouldn’t flinch even when a gun was pointed at him, but whenever he was alone with his partner, he became a fidgety mess. Brilliant man, great at his job, but very meek. He had joined the force three years before Ivan, and was also that same three years older. They had been partnered seven months ago, after Ivan’s then-partner had been crippled on duty when they had been chasing a suspect. Tragic story, really. She would have survived the car crash with minor injuries, had a freak malfunction not made her gun fire inside the car and lodge the bullet in her spine. One of the finest of the force, she had been. Dedicated, smart.

--

You might have noticed that Ivan goes back and forth with Alfred and Jones – that’s on purpose. He uses Jones whenever he wants to maintain some distance, and Alfred when he forgets to despise all of humanity. Oh Ivan, you’re not nearly as misanthropic as you tell yourself!

Dobroye utro(Дoбрoе утрo): Good morning Alyo( Алё): Hello

Chapter name comes from Ship of Fools by World party. I should probably mention that the song lyrics have nothing to do with the chapter contents, I choose them purely by title. Also the symbolism mostly only makes sense to me:D Don’t mind if you don’t get what I’m going for.

[kote-the-inn-keeper]

“You son of a bitch!”

Glass shattered loudly, cutting through the loud brawling in the main room of the inn. Chairs and tables screamed across the wood floors before toppling and crashing over, some cracking and breaking. Bottles and cups hit the floor, splintering and clanking before rolling through the thunderous shuffling of bodies. Shouting and screaming was booming, nearly echoing off the thick and wide room as the fight continued, several men in and others trying to pull apart the fight. None the less, alcohol and blood were a present smell over the wood polish and firewood that was there normally.

The inn was not silent. It was anything but.

“What? Can’t handle seeing me in person?” Kote chuckled snidely, unlike himself. A heavily sour smirk came to his face, cutting the line of blood dribbling down from his nose and down his chin. “Maybe I shoulda ha--” He was cut off with another punch to the face and slammed into the bar instead of the bottles.

A rally of shouting and cursing followed from usual patrons at the stranger, trying to rip them off of their kind and humble innkeeper they ‘knew’ so well. But, the attacker never let go, gripping the red head’s shirt and apron tighter with one hand, the other struggling to get out of two men’s grasps to get another punch in. 

“You know what you did! And now I know you’re here! You’re done for!” 

The innkeeper grit his teeth, letting out a grunt like snarl from behind clenched teeth. He could taste blood down the back of his throat, bruises already tender and coloring on his skin, and fingers tingling with a sensation he hadn’t had in so many years. Managing to get his hands up from being braced against the bar, Kote grabbed the hand holding onto him, throwing the other one up and trying to jam his fingers into the assailants eye.

With a scream, they let go to shook their head out, barely managing to look up and un-cup their hand from their slightly damaged eye to have the innkeepers fist slam into their gut. 

“Kote what he hell--!?”

“Who is this bastard!?”

“Kote, sir--!”

A flurry of similar shouts and questions followed as Kote grunted and hip threw the bastard as hard as he could. While he had been aiming for the floor, the attacker ended up on, over, and then off the bar, shattering a bar stool or two on his ass over tea kettle way down to the floor proper. More shouts of surprise and confusion were thrown to the air, shuffling and debate on what to do.

The innkeeper spat on the floor and wiped his sleeve across his bloody nose, blowing loose strands of messy red hair from his eyes as he maneuvered over the bar easy enough. Landing hard on his feet next to the attacker, who was slowly getting to their feet, Kote glared. “You come into my inn, in the middle of a fucking rush, and try to pick a fight!? Of all decent times, you couldn’t have picked a damn worse one.”

“Not like anything you did had perfect fuckin’ timing either. Bloodless.” They spat, staggering and cracking their neck.

With such a title thrown around, the inn went quiet for a half moment, before whispers erupted and a bit of snide laughter. Him? Bloodless? The Kvothe bloodless? He was an innkeeper, and clearly bleeding! If an innkeeper could be Kvothe the Bloodless then half of them were immediately in line for the thrown! What a dumb thought, it was clear they were drunk and just picking fights -- at least, so everyone there thought.

Kote’s blood ran cold, eyes widening for a small moment, before narrowing once more. “Oh, so it’s someone from then. I see.” He mumbled carefully, trying to remember faces and names

The attacker looked furious, “You don’t even have the decency to remember people who you screwed over?! You coward. You low life, two faced, terror!” 

“Is that all you have to say? If it is, I have to clean up your mess here and get back to work. I don’t care to associate with people like you, nor do I bother to remember simple jackasses.” Kote replied, trying to keep his slowly waning temper. His hands tingled, the feeling crawling from his fingertips to his palms to his wrists. No, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

They swung out at him again, only to find open air. But just once. While Kote had been an experienced fighter years ago, he was out of practice and slow now, so the kick to the knee sent him nearly toppling. Taking the opportunity, the attacker shifted their feet, turned their hips, and forcefully flat footed kicked Kote in the chest and at and upturned table.

Hitting the table, the innkeeper shouted in pain and crumpled, back crashing into one of the cross supports and shoulder hit just right to have his arm go numb for a moment. Grasping at his knee, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to stand quick enough before the next hit, gritting his teeth and managing to look up just in time to get a boot to the face. His head cracked against the wood floor, meeting spilled ale and shattered glass. His ears rang and the world spun for a moment, the smell of alcohol almost wanting to make him throw up and the sharp pain in the side of his face the only thing keeping him grounded from blacking out.

Several locals pulled Kote up to his feet by his shoulders and arms, holding him up steady as he tried to get himself together again. While others held back the attacker and shoved them as far to the other side of the room as they could mange against someone more skilled than themselves. 

“You’ll pay for what you’ve fucking done! Do you hear me?! All of this is your fault, you coward! How dare you hide in such a shitty place with such a shitty fucking excuse of a name!”

Kote blinked slowly and lifted his head, hair partially obscuring his vision and one eye kept shut to keep glass from entering his eye. “Coward?” He asked, “Can’t you people call me something else? I’ve heard more of that word from myself than the likes of you.”

“You piece of shit! How dare you claim to be a hero! Look at all you’ve destroyed and ruined!!”

“This guy is bat shit!” Aaron, the smith boy, hollered above all the other ruckus. Which, got everyone else in the room to agree and shout about how they were out of their damn mind and too drunk to be there anymore.

Though, it all fell silent. Almost as silent as it always was, if the attacker hadn’t been the only one stomping about and struggling still.

Spitting out blood from his mouth, Kote blinked slowly again and looked up to see Bast had arrived to the inn once more. He stood at the main door, alone, and silent. His presence was that of a human, as always around so many people. But what caused everyone to go quiet wasn’t his presence necessarily. His demeanor and the very aura he gave off caused everyone to go silent. It was cold and violent, like a storm. Louder than any shouting that could have gone on without saying or making a noise. It was cut throat and dry, suffocating and ripping away and all possible pride and ego from a man’s words just by the look on his face.

Well, and blade in his hands.

“All of you. Out. NOW.” The fae demanded, voice easily carrying through the crowd and overpowering the thrashing and snapping individual trying to carry on the fight. “The inn is now closed and no one is allowed back in here for two days time.”

“But--” Someone tried.

Bast’s gaze flickered to the one speaking immediately, locking eyes and staring. “Did. I. Stutter? I said, everyone out. Now.” Walking into the inn slowly, his steps were soft and heard for once. As though he were stepping harder than usual on purpose to make his point. “I will start picking who leaves first by my own hand if you don’t all leave now.”

No one moved, and the attacker even stopped to watch the strange man enter and threaten so many people at once. 

Bast stopped behind the table Kote was propped partially against, lifting the sword and pointing the tip at the first person near by. “Maple,” and continued to point to each one with each word, “Maypole catch and carry. Ash and ember. Elderberry.” The sword ended up pointed at someone he and Kote knew rather well, but a wicked, toothy smile passed his face none the less. “Oh, what a shame.”

“Bast.” Kote snapped, side eyeing him.

Giving a sigh, the fae settled for lifting the sword above his head. With proper inhuman strength, he cut down against the table, wedging the sword too far down into it for anyone human to do. “Next verse, this is going to be someone’s body; may your petty Tehlu have mercy on your poorly atoned fucking souls.” He threatened.

As soon as the last words left, everyone scattered. Rightfully so, since their lives were on the line proper. Those who were nearest him scrambled for the back door through the kitchen, others closer to the door shoved over others to get out first and down the road as fast as they could get. The inn was cleared out in seconds. Including the person who had started the whole fight got away. 

But, not before Bast could get a good look at their face and the direction they were going...

Once everyone had cleared, Bast left the lodged sword in the table and grabbed onto Kote, holding him upright and immediately moving his bright hair and picking glass from his face. 

“Bast, you-- argh!” Kote tried to argue, only stopped by glass tearing his face more as it was messed with.

“I don’t care. They will forget about it in less than a week. You humans blame everything on drinking and being excited.” The fae argued sharply, continuing to work. His eyes were still bright blue, like a cloudless spring day and clean water. A clear sign he was still not grounded and ready to break someone measly human in half if need be. 

Kote grunted and tried to shift his weight, knee giving out from the blow it received earlier and nearly dropping. If Bast hadn’t had an arm around his waist and holding him tight enough to keep still, he would have eaten more glass. 

Bast grumbled under his breath silently, picking glass from his friend and mentor’s face, trying to be tender and gentle. Thankfully he had nimble fingers, so it was no issue to get even the smaller bits out. “I’ll repair the table, and have the carpenter replace some of the chairs for being here tonight. He won’t argue. If I tell his wife he was in a brawl, she’ll make him do that, and some for free. And I’ll have --”

“Stop, stop, stop. Stop.” Kote nearly begged, exhausted and already having a hard enough time processing his own thoughts.

“What happened here? Who did this?” Bast pressed, glancing around to finally see the whole extent of the damage. Most of the tables had some form of damage, chairs as well. The floor and bartop was littered in cups, plates, glass, and food. The racks behind the bar were mostly empty, bottles either shattered or cracked on the floor, or about to roll off their shelves to join the others. There was blood splatter here and there as well, though shifting with the flows of alcohol leaking about.

Kote shook his head and grunted in pain, closing his eyes tightly for a moment with his throbbing headache. “I don’t want to talk about it... Just...”

“Reshi--”

“I don’t--”

“KVOTHE.” Bast snapped, holding him tighter and grabbing his face with his free hand. Making Kote look at him, Bast took a deep breath and spoke again, more quietly. “Tell me. What. Happened. Please.”

Kote grimaced and hissed as he was squeezed and made to look at Bast. Everything hurt, he was tired, and he just wanted to sleep. He wanted to lay down and remember to ignore the world. “...Someone came in... claiming they knew me. Things got out of hand and they decided the best course of action was to beat what they wanted to hear out of me.”

“I can clearly see that much. Did you know them?”

“Not that I can remember... And I remember things well enough. So it had to be someone connected to someone else or I’ve forgotten.” Kote explained, speaking and breathing more evenly as time went on. Less light headed and the tingling away, he felt like he was going to pass out instead of do something reckless.

Bast was quiet for a long moment, before nodding. “Right. Well, I’ll get all this fixed up in the next few days. I promise. You aren’t going to do anything but keep in your room and rest -- after I patch you up, okay? Everything is going to be fine. They won’t come back here after that.” 

Kote gave a half chuckle, “Neither would I. You nearly chopped a table in half with a sword, Bast. I’d shit myself and pray to Tehlu as well that you never look at me.”

The fae gave a proud smile, “Well, someone has to be able to keep strangers in line. And I don’t see you even able to keep one from fighting you.”

“Ha, ha, ha. You’re lucky I didn’t put beets into dinner...”

“Yes, yes I am. Let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. I’ll clean this up after you’re settled.” Bast replied, looping his arm around Kote in a more supporting manner for walking instead of holding as he helped the innkeeper hobble upstairs and to his room.