#Do I desperately need a six figure salary? Fuck yes

[katarascape]

How goes the job hunt you ask? Backwards, I reply.

[fruitofthemindfarm]

MSAU first story (untitled)

word count 4k

 “What villainous plot have you been hatching, Warlock?” The Dragon snarled, tall and proud despite being tangled in one of Warlock's traps. “No one has seen hide nor hair of you in weeks! Whatever evil you're up to, I won't let you win!”

Warlock sighed and rubbed between his eyes. This was exactly what he'd been looking to avoid. Normally he enjoyed the byplay with his arch-nemesis (and secret crush), but he just really hadn't been up to dealing with it recently. “I'm not hatching any plots, I'm just on hiatus.”

“A likely story.” The superhero sniffs, obviously not believing him. “You terrorize the city on a weekly basis if not more often! Someone as vile as you would never just leave the citizens be!”

Something snapped in Warlock. The last few weeks had been terrible, and he'd been disturbed while trying to finish up the simply insane amount of work his boss had piled on for no fucking reason by this moron stumbling into the traps on his lair, and he was just done with The Dragon and his absurd, bigoted ideas.

He stormed up to the hero and grabbed his face in both hands, leaning in until his nose almost hit The Dragon's. They were much of a height, allowing him to look him straight in the eye. “You fucking listen to me, you ridiculous prat! I don't have time for your fucking nonsense! I have had a terrible couple of months, so I've taken a break from stopping corrupt cops and smuggling out the targets of the mayor's bigoted, DEADLY anti-magic policies! And yes, that's awful of me! Two people that I know of have been incarcerated on ridiculous fake accusations after standing up to Mayor Pendragon's bully-boy, Valiant. Maybe I could have prevented that! But my father fucking died six weeks ago, and I can't get compassionate leave at my job because my boss is an ass and Balinor Dragonlord was never officially acknowledged as my sire on my paperwork so I couldn't be used as a pawn in the anti-magic crusades two decades ago.”

He shuddered and blinked, desperately willing his tears to subside. The Dragon was one of the last people he wanted to cry in front of, surpassed only by the Mayor and Warlock's civilian boss, the Mayor's son Arthur. At least The Dragon held some respect for him. He didn't want to look any more incompetent than he already did in front of those two. He didn't know what they expected after hiring him on as a PA as thanks for having saved Arthur from a magical attack and despite him protesting that he had no experience working as a PA. A job was a job, however, and he had accepted for the sake of their excellent benefits package and salary. Being a supervillain was both expensive and painful, and he couldn't manage what he did as a barista.

He looked to the side, not wanting to hold The Dragon's shocked gaze any longer. He knew the hero had a heart of pure gold, misguided though he was, and sympathy would cause him to crumble. “So now I've got new powers and responsibilities I need to figure out before I hurt someone, and the only people that might be convinced to help me learn are... militant and dangerous. I don't want to help The Priestess take over the city! I think her policies are misguided and as hateful as the Mayor's in their own way. I haven't had a day off in over a month because I'm on salary and my boss has decided I need to do all his work for him, not just assist him like normal. My only support system is my mother, who is currently devastated. None of my friends know I'm Warlock, and none of my villainous associates know enough about my private life for me to be comfortable telling them about my personal troubles. And I just... I need... I just fucking need a break! And maybe you stupid heroes don't take breaks because 'evil never sleeps' or whatever fucking nonsense you say about us, but I've got a bounty on my head that says I fucking CAN take a fucking break, and, and...” He did his best to hold it back, but he could feel the sobs working up his throat.

“Warlock.” The Dragon implored, “Warlock, let me go. Set me free. I promise I won't hurt you. I won't try to take your mask off. Just let me go. Please.”

Warlock raised his eyes back to The Dragon's, tears gathering and his lip wobbling as he took in the intense sincerity in his nemesis' eyes. He looked away again and wrapped his arms around himself, but muttered a magic word under his breath. The Dragon stumbled as his limbs came free from the web he'd been trapped in, but quickly righted himself.

Then wrapped Warlock up in a hug.

Warlock blinked, totally caught off guard. His fingers twitched as The Dragon tucked Warlock's head into his own neck and gently rubbed at his back, crooning softly in his ear to, “Just let it out, it's okay, I've got you, you're not alone...”

Warlock took a deep, shuddering breath before giving in, wrapping his arms around his enemy and letting the tears he'd been holding in for over a month fall.

He wasn't sure how long they stood like that. Maybe only minutes, maybe hours. He sobbed himself hoarse, until his face burned and his eyes were dry. The Dragon just held him and whispered comforting nonsense into his ear. His heart flip-flopped in his chest, and he realized too late that he was officially past crush territory and was irrevocably, inconveniently, completely in love with his arch-enemy, the leader of the Mayor's elite superhero team The Knights.

*

“What is your body count?” The Dragon asked idly, the first words spoken for a long time. Warlock stirred slightly, glancing up at the hero who held him close and was playing with his hair. They'd sunk down to the floor at some point, Warlock sprawled over the hero's lap and still tucked up against his neck.

“Mmhm?” He grunted, trying to get his brain back online.

“I know you're more of a political enemy than anything, and I know you're one of the more merciful foes The Knights fight. It's one of the reasons I... well, I... call dibs on fighting you? I know that sounds childish, but... Valiant is vicious, most of the rest don't think, and... I didn't want anything to happen to you. I still don't, but... I need to know I'm right about this. About you. So.”

Warlock yawned and stretched. “Heroes, villains, or civilians?”

“All?” The Dragon's voice was hesitant now. “I didn't know you had any civilian casualties.”

“Mmm.” He hummed noncommittally. “It was my fault that municipal employee was thrown in jail and almost executed a few months ago. The one they were blaming the plague on? I count that. Poor girl was terrified. I did the magic she was blamed for.”

“Not what I'm talking about.” The Dragon said sharply. “If anyone was to blame for that, I was. I'm the one that arrested her. How many civilians have you actually hurt or killed?”

“Uhh, there's usually people watching us fight that get minor injuries. They don't fucking listen when either of us tell them to get out of the way, they want to catch the fight on video. I've probably destroyed a few livelihoods when fights get out of hand and buildings collapse, but luckily no one's ever been caught inside. And there were a couple serious cases of smoke inhalation when we accidentally set that apartment block on fire the one time. We managed to get everyone out, but I still felt terrible about it.” He wracked his brain. “I think that's it. I'm pretty careful of civilians. They can't help that the Mayor is a power-mad, revenge-obsessed asshole.”

The Dragon's lips twisted like he'd really like to refute that, but he let it slide. Warlock was grateful. He didn't feel up to arguing politics right now.

“And heroes?” He was prompted. Warlock scowled.

“I count law enforcement here. I put Valiant in the hospital once before you intervened. I tied Owain up in a magical net and forgot him for over a day once... I was busy! You were hot on my tail and I needed to move my lair! I've exposed four rings of corrupt cops and wasn't too careful about how I put them down. That one in charge of the human trafficking ring will probably never regain full mental facilities, but I don't feel bad about that. I... wasn't able to save Ewan, nor expose his murderer. I wasn't able to save Pellinor, either. I killed Muirden, which I also don't regret.” He raised his chin, daring The Dragon to hate him for it.

“Those two Knights don't count, either. I was in charge of them, protecting them was my job. And Muirden was discredited upon his death for being a sorcerer and attempting to kill the Mayor. So you've never actually caused intentional harm to anyone on the Mayor's side who wasn't directly involved with unsavoury activities?”

“I punched you off that building.”

“Please. As if I didn't know the magic that caught me before I hit the ground was yours. And I don't think you'd have done it if you hadn't been smuggling Druid children out of the city that night. You've never hit me that hard in any other fight we've had.”

Warlock buried his face back in The Dragon's neck, his ears turning red. “I don't... really want to hit you.”

The Dragon sighed. Warlock felt his hair ruffle, but insisted to himself there was no chance the hearthrob hero had just kissed him, even just on top of his head. “I know. I don't really want to hit you, either.”

He felt the drumming on his ribs and winced, knowing what was coming next. “And... villains?”

Warlock sighed. “... A lot, actually. Several of Priestess's monsters. Arthur Pendragon's girlfriend Sophia and her father. That group of henchmen that took you down three months ago. A half dozen different sorcerers with a grudge against the Mayor, most of whom targeted his children rather than the man himself. The gang that surrounded and almost killed three of The Knights last winter...” He trailed off, trying to think of others. He could feel the tension in the body beneath him. Villains or not, this wasn't going to go well.

“... I can understand most of those, but why on earth would you just randomly murder the girlfriend of the Mayor's son? And her father?” The voice was incredulous, and Warlock shrugged uncomfortably.

“They weren't human. They were evil Fae trapped in mortal bodies. They enchanted and kidnapped Ar... Pendragon Junior, and were in the middle of offering him as a blood sacrifice to restore their standing in the Fae court when I caught up with them. I killed them both, fished him out of the lake, and made sure he got home safely.” He winced, knowing how far-fetched that sounded.

“Is that why I... why he was acting so strangely? And doesn't remember much about it?”

Warlock's lips twisted in a wry grin, remembering himself how difficult it had been to try and talk sense into Arthur. “Why you weren't able to get him to see sense? Yeah, I tried to talk him out of running away with her as well. His eyes swirled red with magic and he just watched as I took a lightning bolt to the chest.” He felt The Dragon's arms tighten around him and patted him comfortingly. “It's okay. I was in my civilian guise, so they didn't think to check and make sure I died. My magic protected me enough that I was able to wake up and go after him. It's probably a lot better that I went after him than you did. All you have is your training and your power suit. Neither would have protected you from them.”

“So you... You know Arthur Pendragon in your civilian guise?” The question had a forced nonchalance, but Warlock cursed himself anyway. The Dragon was still a hero, loyal to Mayor Pendragon and his anti-magic regime. Letting him figure out Warlock was Arthur's hapless assistant Merlin wouldn't end well.

Especially because Merlin had a habit of flirting with him when he'd met the hero in the municipal buildings. It was just easier to do when The Dragon wasn't trying to punch him. He'd even gotten an autograph.

“Nah, just happened to stumble across them while she was casting spells. Bad luck, really. Or good luck, I guess. If I wasn't taking a sketchy short cut because I missed my bus I never would have seen it. And losing his only son to a magical attack really wouldn't improve the Mayor's opinion of us.” Warlock covered, improvising like his life depended on it. He actually wasn't a very good liar, but The Dragon seemed to accept it, if his slow nod was any indication.

“I thought his assistant brought him home?” The hero asked, a little hesitantly. Warlock laughed.

“What, he told you the 'truth' as well?” He asked, thinking furiously. “It'd be suicide to try and break into the Mayor's home for me. A flat in Edmonton was so much easier, and Emrys is in the phone book. I, uh, may have messed with Emrys' memory of meeting me. I don't like doing that, but I didn't want the Mayor to know how close he'd come to losing his son. So I fiddled with his memories until he thought he had run across Pendragon eloping with the girl, knocked him upside the head, and brought him home. Safer all around, really.”

“You fucked with Merlin's head?!?” The Dragon demanded, the words almost hissing out with his anger. Warlock flinched, badly scared by the sudden slide towards violent emotions from the precious man holding him, whom Warlock knew he could never bring himself to actually hurt. Any battle between them like this would go very, very badly for Warlock.

“Just a minor geas!” He insisted, bringing his outside arm up to shield his head instinctively. “I just made him want to forget seeing me at his apartment complex and suggested to him that he'd left to go buy fish and chips for dinner. He filled in the rest of the story himself! I didn't want him to get arrested, after all! It's not his fault I needed someone reliable to drop Pendragon off with!”

He felt the chest under him expand with deliberately deep breaths. Warlock held his own breath until The Dragon finally released a heavy sigh and patted at Warlock's hair again. “Okay. I understand. You didn't really have much of a choice. And you're right, the Mayor would have had Merlin arrested and interrogated if he'd known Merlin had spoken to you at all. None of us want that.”

Warlock chewed on his lip, but in the end couldn't resist tilting his head back to meet The Dragon's bright blue eyes. “You seem awfully fond of Emrys...” He hedged, incapable of convincing himself not to use this opportunity to find out what the hero thought of his own alter ego.

The Dragon turned his head, a blush blooming over his cheekbones. “He's... cute. Adorable and earnest and hardworking and loyal. I've met him a few times at the municipal offices. He doesn't deserve to get caught up in a battle that has nothing to do with him.”

This battle has everything to do with him, Warlock thought, trying hard not to focus on the irony of that comment. It was a good thing that The Dragon thought Merlin Emrys didn't have any stake in the magic war. Warlock couldn't afford for any of The Knights to figure out his secret identity, let alone their leader. He forced a smile to his lips and levity into his tone. “Sounds like someone has a bit of a cruuuush,” Warlock sing-songed, desperately ignoring the way his heart beat double-time at the very suggestion that the superhero he was in love with might, maybe, sort of like him back.

“I do not!” The Dragon insisted, pushing Warlock off of his lap suddenly enough that the slighter man went sprawling, a sharp cry escaping him as he crashed into the cement floor.

Warlock's eyes filled again at the throbbing ache in his shoulder as he rolled onto his back. He ignored the superhero that crouched above him, as well as the litany of apologies rolling off his lips. Warlock waved the man off before pushing himself to sitting with his good arm. The Dragon crowded up against him for support, but he took little notice of it. Instead he prodded at his shoulder carefully, then started rotating it to test for mobility. Finally he turned his irritated gaze back on the still-apologizing hero next to him, pinning him with an icy glare.

“I'd appreciate it if you'd stop touching me.” He bit out, enunciating each word carefully and clearly. “Obviously you cannot be trusted to have basic conversation without resorting to violence, and I have no interest in dealing with that tonight.”

The Dragon hung his head, his blonde hair covering the embarrassed flush colouring in his cheeks, but gamely moved back as requested. “I really am sorry. I didn't mean to knock you over. I just... You were teasing me like some of the Knights do, and I kind of... forgot myself?”

Warlock raised an imperious eyebrow. “If your compatriots tease you about your crush on this Merlin,” He gave his own name a mocking twist, ragging on the fond way The Dragon had spoken it, “As well, perhaps it would behoove you to quit denying it.”

The hero's ears darkened, and his embarrassment was clear in his tone. “They... uh, don't tease me about him. Lancelot and Owain tease me about... well, about you. We have to be careful, though. First of the Knights or no, Fa... Mayor Pendragon would string me up by my ankles and leave me to rot if he knew,” The head tucked even closer into The Dragon's bright red mech suit, but his voice actually steadied and became stronger, the man's innate bravery ringing forth as he dropped this utter bomb, “That I'm in love with you.”

Warlock stared at him, totally poleaxed, while The Dragon continued on. “And Merlin's adorable, he is, and I really want to protect him from everything bad, but... But you're you, and...”

“A wanted criminal and a dirty, cheating magic user?” Warlock supplied, dry as the desert, and The Dragon's head snapped up, his blue eyes blazing with righteous anger.

“Don't you dare speak of yourself that way!” He insisted, voice fervent. “You're brave, compassionate, clever, determined, cheerful, and honestly seem to have the best interests of ALL of Camelot's residents at heart. I was already certain you'd never intentionally hurt a civilian or seriously injured a non-corrupt law enforcement officer, and you confirmed that for me today. You've also admitted to having done as much-if not actually more!- to protect the Mayor and his family as I have! Magic user or no, you're easily one of the best men I've ever met, so don't you dare say anything disparaging about yourself!”

Warlock just gaped at him, unable to even get over his shock enough to close his mouth.

“And yes,” The Dragon drawled, crawling back towards Warlock with a slink that Warlock knew he'd be seeing again in his dreams, “Merlin is sweet. He's always got an encouraging word for me when I need it, he puts up with my terrible behaviour when I'm overwhelmed, and he's helped me keep up with my daily life without complaint while I dropped everything to search for you this last month, but he's not you. And I... I've loved you since before I'd ever met him.”

Black spots swam across Warlock's vision as the second bombshell of the night dropped. Merlin Emrys had only met The Dragon three times, all of them during work hours and never when The Dragon was anything less than perfectly composed. The man who Merlin encouraged, supported, and had adulted for for a month was his boss, Arthur Pendragon.

“I'm really sorry I hurt you.” The Dragon-Arthur-continued, looking at Warlock with guileless blue eyes. “I didn't mean to. I've just... had to keep this such a secret for so long that I... reacted without thinking.” He let out a shaky laugh, and Warlock sucked in a desperate breath. “I wasn't planning on telling you about this. I'm sorry. I don't mean to put you on the spot. And... and we're enemies. I understand you probably don't think very highly of me. You're kind to everyone. I just... I've been so worried since you disappeared, I thought maybe you'd been captured...” He chuckled at himself, “I've been beyond useless this last month. I've been desperate to find you. So when you implied I liked someone else, I... reacted. Badly. And then I told you my secret, and, and...”

He was cut off suddenly, causing Warlock to realize he'd leaned in and kissed him. It was short, chaste kiss, but Warlock had never felt so stunned after any previous one in his life. “I love you, too.” He breathed, pulling away. “I... maybe haven't kept my activities as quiet as I used to. I'd been operating in secret for months before that first fight with you, but then... I wanted to see more of you.” He gave a huffy, self-depreciating laugh of his own. “It was basically love at first sight for me. And it was always you that came and fought me, and I just... couldn't help myself.”

The Dragon looked like all his dreams had come true, his whole face lighting up as he stared at Warlock in awe. Warlock blushed and looked down, tracing arcane sigils on his leg with a restless finger. “I know it's terrible timing... we can't really be together when I'm a fugitive and you're first among the law-keepers, but... But it won't be forever. Eventually this war will be over, and we can... we can meet without masks, in the open.”

The Dragon tangled their fingers together, then brought Warlock's hand up to his mouth and softly kissed the back of his hand. “We can. We will. And in the meantime,” He gave Warlock a sly grin full of mischief, “Well, it's not like you don't have somewhat of a reputation for... misplacing Knights you've captured. So long as they get me back eventually, a couple hours here and there won't raise any eyebrows...”

Warlock couldn't help it. He tossed his head back and laughed until his sides hurt. “And how long,” He wheezed out after regaining some of measure of control over his breathing, “Until you're noticed missing tonight?”

“I have a day job,” The Dragon replied unconcernedly, slinking over Warlock with intent. “I do have to put in an appearance sometime tomorrow, though I could put that off until noon without anyone making too much of a fuss so long as I call in first. My work is flexible.” His fingers caressed Warlock's cheek softly. “So, hours...”

Bonus coda

“So why are you called The Dragon when all the rest of the Knights are named after King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table?” Warlock asked, running his fingers idly through blonde hair.

The man in his arms laughed. “Because I was the first.” He said simply. “There were no Knights yet when I got my power suit. Pellinor, Lancelot, and Valiant were all recruited at the same time and the Mayor... well, he's pretty proud of his last name. He decided to make it a theme. I... ah... I refused. Said I'd already had my codename for months and wasn't changing it now. I pointed out that this kept me distinct from the men I lead, and that he'd already named his son Arthur.”

[missblanchette]

Hippocratic Oath [3/4]

Series: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Jinguji Jakurai/Kannonzaka Doppo; Hifumi is Best Wingman

Rating: PG for language

Summary: The fact of the matter was that a relationship between a doctor and a patient was unethical. Sooner or later, one of them had to speak up about it. (Or: Jakurai and Doppo work out their Feelings™.)

Words: 3020

Notes: Communication is had and baby steps are made between our boys, wahoo

ko-fi // Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | You can read this on AO3! Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy! (*＾▽＾)／

Ch 3: Salary-man’s Session

Doppo was never big on SNS or anything of that sort, but the amount of staring at the screen he'd done this past week was enough to make up for his entire lifetime. In fact, his manager had called him out in front of everyone for slacking off, complaining that "these damn youngin's never take their eyes off their cell phones" (never mind that Doppo had been working through his lunch break). Regardless of how he wanted to die on the spot, he was still alive and stuck in a constant cycle of opening his email or the other apps he had Jakurai on, typing a message, and deleting it; open, type, delete; open, type, delete.

Groaning, Doppo tossed his phone to the side. His laptop laid on the coffee table with his sales reports unfinished and some variety show playing on the TV droned on and on. At least in the office, his boss and coworkers kept him busy by dumping shit on him. Ironic, that after all he'd complained about his job, all he wanted to do now was work. He didn't even have Hifumi here today since he left earlier for his fishing trip. With Jakurai. Something he only remembered because Hifumi had sent him a selfie of the two of them and their catches.

Burying his face in his hands, Doppo sank as far into the sofa as he could, hoping that it would suck him into the void. It did not.

No matter how much Doppo tried to distract himself, his thoughts would always fall back to Jakurai. But in order to cut off any romantic feelings he'd deluded himself into having, he'd have to stop thinking about him. But telling himself to stop thinking about him lead to thinking about him again. And again. And again. And again.

The front door swung open, giving him a small reprieve.

"Doppo! I'm ho~me!"

"Welcome back," Doppo said, voice muffled from behind his hands.

"Doppo-chin, don't tell me you've been sitting on the couch the whole day," Hifumi chided, accompanied by the rustling of his fishing gear.

"Not like I have anything better to do."

"You could've gone fishing with me and Dr. Jakurai!"

Doppo choked on his saliva. "D-Don't be stupid. I don't know how to fish."

"Eh, but didn't you say you wanted to go before?"

"That -- That was before. I changed my mind."

"Aw, don't be like that, Doppo-chin. You could always learn! Y'know, Doc wasn't all that great at first but now he's totes a pro." The zippers on Hifumi's backpack clinked to the beat of his footsteps, the tune ending as he plopped next to him on the couch. Pulling Doppo's hands off his face, Hifumi held onto them. "He could, like, teach you."

Squirming in his grasp, Doppo looked to the floor. "He's got other stuff to do."

"Nah, I think he'd be really happy to show you."

"Drop it," Doppo hissed between his teeth.

"Doppo-chin~" Hifumi drew his name out with a whine. "You really need to be more honest with your feelings."

Doppo squinted at him. "Huh?"

"Why didn't you tell me you and Dr. Jakurai were a thing?"

"What?!" Blood running cold, Doppo's breath caught stuck in his throat. Hifumi grinned, a glint in his eyes. "Where did you -- I never -- Dr. Jinguji, he -- We -- W-We are not a thing!"

"Doc told me what happened and you like him, too, don't you? That makes you guys a thing!"

"I do not like him!"

"Then why are you so upset?"

Doppo gnashed his teeth together, the thoughts he'd been running from rushing back like a tsunami. He tried to tear his grip from Hifumi, but he'd always been the stronger of them.

"I shouldn't like him," Doppo said, barely above a whisper.

"You have every right to like him."

"He's my doctor."

"I mean, isn't there like a kink for that?"

"Oh my God, Hifumi --"

"Well, if you're not into that, find another doctor!"

Recalling Jakurai's confession, Doppo bit his lip. That'd been the exact proposition Jakurai had used to breach the matter. While it sounded like a simple solution, it couldn't be that easy to solve a complex aspect of their relationship. Things were never that simple, Doppo told himself; simple things merely hid bigger problems. Doppo tasted iron on his tongue.

"He's our leader."

"Yeah, and?" Hifumi said, wiping the blood from his lips. "Wouldn't that be cute, two members of the same group dating?! Hey, that'd boost Matenrou's popularity, wouldn't it?"

Or rip them to shreds, Doppo thought, remembering how crazy the women of Chuuoku had been. He shivered as he put that memory away. It'd be better to play it safe rather than act upon his false feelings. No need to worry about upsetting anyone that way, no need to stress about getting into trouble.

"He's... I..."

Ear turned towards him as if his excuses couldn't reach him, Hifumi leaned in. Doppo heaved a sigh, his nostrils flaring as he shut his eyes.

"I'm... I'm not good enough for him!"

A small gasp. Hifumi squeezed his hands and tugged him closer.

"Doppo-chin, that's not true --"

"It is!" Gathering the strength to shove Hifumi off, Doppo backed off to the far side of the sofa and brought his knees to his chest. "I'm fucking desperate, I only like him because he's nice to me. I have nothing to offer him besides my goddamn rap skills and even then those are crap at best. It won't be long until he realizes just how shitty I am and hates me, so why bother?!"  

Doppo panted as soon as he finished speaking, all the words spilling out quickly like a rap -- the battle between his heart and his mind, the stage his own self. He'd found solace in Jakurai, but good things rarely lasted. As much as he wanted to be with Jakurai, as much as he wanted to be by Jakurai's side, he'd have to stop anything from happening before what they had could be ruined.

A few seconds passed and Hifumi crawled over to join him, but not too closely. He placed a hand on his shoulder, which Doppo didn't swat away.

"Doppo, Doc cares a lot about you."

"He's a doctor, he's supposed to care for everyone."

"Okay, yeah, but. He's like completely head over heels for you."

Doppo gave him a look.

"He's always telling me to invite you on our fishing trips --"

"He's just being nice."

"-- and he's always asking about you. Y'know, today he kept zoning out because he was thinking about you~"

"I --" Doppo sputtered, the tips of his ears growing warm. "T-That can't be true."

"Oh, but it is~ He told me he lo~ves you and that he doesn't know what to do about it. Can you believe that? Dr. Jakurai not knowing what to do? You've swept him off his feet, Doppo-chin!"

Doppo hid his face behind his knees. "You don't have to say it like that..."

"Yes, I do, because it's true~" Hifumi said as he wrapped an arm around him, rocking the both of them side-to-side. "So, y'see, he likes you just like you like him. And if you both like each other, there's nothing wrong with giving it a shot! No 'but's or 'what if's!" The swaying motion stopped. Then, softly: "It's what you deserve, Doppo-chin."

Letting Hifumi's words sink in, Doppo swallowed hard. It’d been a week, six days to be precise, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Jakurai had actual feelings for him. That being the case, he couldn't accept more than what he was worth --  especially if it meant he'd be dragging down the one whom he cherished; pathetic he may be, but he refused to taint Jakurai as well. Yet, hearing all of Hifumi's counterpoints aloud made him stop and reconsider.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to pursue a relationship. Maybe things wouldn't crumble at his touch. Maybe he and Jakurai could work out. All these "maybe"s but not one definite outcome. Reconciling his heart and his mind was certainly a long way to go.

Doppo inhaled sharply.

"I'm going out," he said as he pulled himself out of Hifumi's hold.

"What? Why?"

"I need a drink." He stepped over Hifumi's fishing rod and rushed to the door.

"There's beer in the fridge."

His shoes were already on. "Fresh air, then."

"Doppo!" Hifumi hung over the couch, throwing something that hit him square in the chest. Yelping, he barely caught it before it dropped to the floor. His cell phone. "Don't stay out too late, okay? Come back safe, because I'm gonna make a super yummy dinner!"

Glancing at his phone then to Hifumi, Doppo nodded. "Sure."

And he was off.

As busy as the streets of Shinjuku were, nobody would bother him and that was exactly how Doppo liked it. He was free to wander as he pleased, listlessly and languidly, letting his feet guide him about the city. By the time he came back to his senses, the sun had dipped behind the skyscrapers and the pack of people had waned down. A quick look at his phone told him he'd been out for about an hour and Hifumi had sent him a message, but it remained unread once he realized where he was.

Shinjuku Central Hospital -- a familiar sight but the last thing he wanted to see. Leaning against the wall, Doppo huffed both out of frustration and exhaustion. He'd blame habit, but he always took the train to get here. Go figure that he'd end up at the one place he associated with Jakurai.

There was nothing for him at the hospital tonight, though, save for a reminder of his current predicament. Still, Doppo couldn’t bring himself to leave. This was very place where he'd met Jakurai so many months ago out of pure chance, the very place where Jakurai had invited him to share all his issues and worries with him, the very place where he'd grown to respect and admire Jakurai.

Absentmindedly, Doppo began hitting his head against the wall. Not enough to seriously injure himself, but enough to create a steady, rhythmic pounding against his thoughts. Every time he began to think that pursuing his desires was okay, the voices in the back of his mind grew louder and louder -- screaming at him, yelling at him, shaming him for what he wanted. Both his heart and his mind fought each other with such intensity that he wondered if it'd be easier to drop dead.

"Doppo-kun?"

His stomach dropped at the sound of that familiar, low voice. Doppo whipped around at breakneck speed, the very man he'd been dreading and hoping to see looking at him with a concerned expression.

"D-Dr. Jinguji?! What are you doing here?" Just as the question left his mouth, Doppo slapped his already numb forehead. "I mean, it being your day off and all..."

"I was called in for an emergency, but I believe I should be asking you the same thing. Oh, your mouth --" Belatedly did Doppo remember he'd bitten his lip to the point of bleeding earlier. Jakurai's fingertips hovered above his lips, and Doppo braced himself for the touch that never came. "Are you all right?" Jakurai asked, pulling his hand away after a moment's hesitation. Doppo's shoulders sagged.

"I'm fine, don't worry. I was... er, I was taking a walk."

"You live quite a ways from here," Jakurai said, amusement in his tone.

"I needed a long walk." A pause. "A really long walk."

"I see. Would you like a drive home?"

"No, you don't have to, I'll --" Doppo patted his pockets, only to realize he'd left his Suica card at home. Dammit. "-- I'll walk back. I need the exercise anyways."

"It’s good to be active, but it’ll get dark soon. I don't mind taking you."

"It's okay, Doctor, sorry for taking up your time. Um, bye."

Without waiting for a response, Doppo hurried along. He came to a standstill, however, as he reached the end of the block and Hifumi's words rang throughout his mind once more. While he'd been avoiding his dilemma, thinking it'd go away eventually, perhaps he needed to take a direct approach instead. Turning, he saw Jakurai standing where he left him.

Technically, Jakurai was still his doctor. Surely one more round of consultation wouldn't hurt. Sheepishly, Doppo jogged back.

"Actually, Dr. Jinguji, can I talk to you about something? As a patient, I mean."

Jakurai raised an eyebrow, but that gave way to the warm smile and gentle gaze that Doppo adored.

"Of course, Doppo-kun. What seems to be the problem?"

An orthodox session for an intricate matter. He'd never had an appointment take place outside of Jakurai's office, or outside the hospital on that fact, nor had one while in his pajamas. Likewise, Jakurai wore a down vest rather than his lab coat and the evening breeze blew his lavender locks all over his face. Despite it all, hearing Jakurai follow their usual dialogue calmed his nerves.

"Well, it's not about me per se, it's about a friend. Not Hifumi." No doubt Jakurai could see right through him, but he made no comment on it.

"What about your friend?" he asked, resting his left hand against his face in its usual pose.

"He's going through a bit of a crisis with this guy.” An understatement, really, but he continued on. "It's not actually a problem with the guy, it's more with himself. You see, this guy told him he had feelings for him, but I -- my friend isn't sure what to do because he thinks he doesn't deserve this guy. He... my friend feels like he only likes this guy because this guy's helped him so much."

Compared to all the shitty things in his life, Doppo could only count the good things on a single hand and Jakurai was definitely one of them. Medical treatment, an outlet, an opportunity to change the world -- to change himself; Jakurai had given him all that and more. As bleak as life had been before, Jakurai helped him see that someone like him was capable of doing something worthwhile. Even if he sacrificed everything, gave all that he could to him, nothing could possibly equal what Jakurai had done for him. He yearned, nevertheless, for his affection, for his tenderness. Would it really be so wrong to allow himself this one grace in his miserable existence?

"It's not that he doesn't like this guy, he just thinks that he won't be able to make him happy. He doesn't want this guy to make a mistake by being with him. I... guess I would like to hear what you have to say? Because I've been stressed out trying to help him through it."

Jakurai's eyelids fluttered closed as he let out a hum, drowning out the distant cars racing down the streets. The sun had set as Doppo had been talking, the street lamps that lined the block becoming the stars that filled the night sky. As if the heavens itself, their light framed Jakurai in an ethereal blue and he stood before him like an angel. Never had Doppo felt so at peace while waiting.  

"Your friend sounds hard on himself, no?" Jakurai spoke up.

"Haha, yeah..."

"But I understand where he's coming from, it's a difficult position to be in. Nonetheless, I think his worries are simply that: worries. Does this man make him happy?"

Doppo nodded a little too enthusiastically. "Very much, but he's scared he'll mess everything up."

"Relationships are quite daunting, aren't they? But relationships require those involved to trust each other, after all. If this man and your friend share mutual feelings, they will be able to work things out no matter how much he doubts himself."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes," Jakurai said, not missing a beat. His eyes met Doppo's. "Love can be scary -- terrifying, even -- but that fear is something you can overcome if you're both willing to try."

Somehow, they'd ended up mere centimeters away from each other, but neither of them made the move to close the gap between them. The clamor of the city and the dissonance within Doppo's self became but an afterthought as Jakurai's azure gaze bore into his -- an azure that enveloped him in a sea of serenity and warmth. Closer and closer, his fingers inched towards Jakurai's hand and it was only when he felt his phone buzzing that Doppo remembered himself.

"I'll tell my friend that," Doppo said, ducking down and scratching his head. Hastily, he checked his phone to see that Hifumi had sent him another text. He ignored it. "Thank you for the advice, Dr. Jinguji, you always know what to say."

Coughing into his hand, Jakurai stood back with what Doppo could've sworn was pink dusting his cheeks. "It's no problem, Doppo-kun, I'm happy to help whenever possible. I hope your friend is able to work something out."

"Me, too..." He trailed off, unsure of where to go from there. A part of him wanted to stay with Jakurai for the rest of the night; the other part could only handle so much excitement for one day. "I... guess I should get going now. I think Hifumi might be getting worried," he said, pointing at his phone.

"Ah, I suppose it’s getting late. Are you sure you don't want a ride back?"

"Thanks for offering, but yes, I'm sure."

Taking a small step towards him, Jakurai opened his mouth but no words came out. Then, he shook his head, a smile adorning his face.

"Very well. Let me know once you've gotten home?"

"I will," Doppo said, bidding him good night with a wave.

Slowly, carefully, Doppo forced himself away from Jakurai, but he did so with a lighter heart and a clearer mind. For once, his chest thumped with exhilaration rather than rattled in trepidation.

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 31 - EDM - Dumb and Dumber

3-2 OT Win

Dumb and Dumber is an iconic movie. It was one of three enormously popular movies the great Jim Carrey made in 1994. There is this one scene where Lloyd (Carrey) and Harry (Jeff Daniels) are at luck’s end, on the run from the law and literally hundreds of miles off course. They had even lost their ride, the 1984 Ford Econoline van dressed up as a dog. The two titular heroes are split up and Harry is walking down a desolate prairie road when Lloyd rides up behind him on the smallest of motorized scooters. Harry utters the legendary memeable line: “Just when I think you couldn’t possibly get any dumber… you do something like this… AND TOTALLY REDEEM YOURSELF!” Okay, so I don’t recommend that movie if your faint of heart or squeamish but it’s a classic my dad beat every line of into me. I could recite that film to you. The Buffalo Sabres found themselves in exactly the position to make me utter such a line for such a situation. After outright losing to the Calgary Flames on Thursday, the easiest win out of the NHL Clubs in Alberta and British Columbia simply by virtue of the standings, they put up an entertaining but frustrating show in Vancouver that saw Tyler Myers remind us of old days before an OT loss that was ultimately just not good enough. Like Dumb and Dumber stupid crap like Tyler Myers’s two points, or a Milan Lucic goal or an Eichel OT winner essentially getting iced by a separate penalty comes up to make your jaw drop. All the while the lack of a desperately needed roster move is forcing the coach to rotate in and out players and tank the value of Colin Miller who now is apparently on the trade block (WE WANT YOU TO TRADE A D-MAN, BUT NOT THAT ONE)! This game came with the dumb plot element of Casey Mittelstadt getting healthy scratched for Evan Rodrigues. In the Dumb and Dumber analogy I’m trying to figure out who the headless parrot is. Either way the little scooter comes humming down the highway late on a Sunday night when you think the road trip has tanked all hopes for the resurrection of this Sabres Season. Then it happens: “…you do something like this… AND TOTALLY REDEEM YOURSELF!”

The Dumb and Dumber analogy felt so right. The trials of this insane road trip and the team they fully beat is the best of them: the Edmonton Oilers! This Eichel v. McDavid thing has gotten old hasn’t it? Nobody really cares for that narrative in a league bursting at the seems with hot young talent. Nonetheless I’m bringing it up. McDavid was kept quiet on the scoresheet, you know who wasn’t? CAPTAIN JAMES JACK EICHEL OF NORTH CHELMSFORD, MASSACHUSETTS! Ok, so it was a secondary assist on the OT game winner BUT BY GOLLY THE STREAK CONTINUES! WATCH OUT NASHVILLE, WATCH OUT ST.LOUIS, YOUR BANNERS AND TROPHIES WON’T HELP YOU NOW! Yeah, so this game was 90% confused Santas wailing on each other at Santa Con. There was not a notable name on the scoresheet but there was four goals in regulation. The first was Kyle Okposo, somehow on a real roll now, tipping in a shot originating with Marco Scandella four minutes in. With that the GLO line, somehow the most consistent line on this team in this version of Dumb and Dumber, drew first blood. This game was excellently matched as all of the top lines seemed to cancel each other out. That’s shocking for me to see written on this page because I woke up this morning not worried about the Baltimore Ravens or the challenges of my Master’s Project; no I woke up fearing Connor McDavid. The guy is an animal and four years in Edmonton has turned him into a Liam Neeson movie villain all grizzled and hairy with nothing to lose.

Well the dumb part of this game was nothing went the way you expected it… well except the powerplay: that’s dumb, it still sucks ass. Did the Sabres give up juicy chances for the Oilers when they were in fact on the powerplay? Dumb gets dumber and Jimmy Vesey and Rasmus Asplund come flying into the Oilers zone shortly after the home team got a great chance in the other end. Asplund’s shot didn’t go and who finds the rebound? Johan Larsson. How about that? He tucks it in five hole on Mike Smith with a just abhorrent level of disrespect. So as fun as that weird dumb shit was it is followed by just enough expected malaise this team has gotten us used to. They don’t score again in regulation. The Edmonton Oilers come back and dominate the shots battle in the second period. They climb all the way back; they don’t call 2-0 the most dangerous lead in hockey for nothing. The Sabres sure as hell aren’t bucking that trend against a team not from New Jersey. Like we’ve been seeing so much since the end of October really, the Sabres completely devalue possession. They dump the puck in. They slow down the passes because they like to pretend scoring effects don’t come for everyone. They drop the puck in dangerous places and so many offensive zone turnovers turn into scoring opportunities for the other team. That’s exactly what happened when Riley Sheahan got the puck in the neutral zone and took it all the way in past Linus Ullmark to cut the lead in half. What a pretty first goal as an Oiler, eh? Want to get mad? It seems to be all the rage on Sabres twitter right now. Here it is: Zach Bogosian single handedly gave Edmonton all their powerplay chances in the second period. Oh you bet! On the second installment of that shit saga Joakim Nygard tips in a Darnell Nurse shot to even it up. Goodbye lead! Hardly knew you. I should’ve warned you the Sabres aren’t a safe place for leads.

By dumb luck that score line remained through the third period. No goals for the rest of regulation and I had a feeling we’d see poor possession come into play in 3-on-3 OT play. It just felt like we were due for one of the three headed monster on the Oilers to eat us alive. Here comes the redemption: the Sabres possessed the puck for the 1:13 of OT we did get. Bucked trend. Jack Eichel paraded the puck all the way around the offensive zone not taking a shot before laying it off to Marcus Johansson on one side of the Edmonton net who pitched it to Colin Miller on the other side. In the press box no more, out for Jake McCabe’s sake no more, trade asset for a not sexy Alex Galchenyuk no more please! Colin Miller slams it into Mike Smith’s pads, and it trickles in for the Game-Winning Overtime Goal! You lose two games you should have won and then you go AND TOTALLY REDEEM YOURSELVES! SABRES WIN 3-2 IN OVERTIME! And you bet that secondary assist was Jack mother fucking Eichel! You bet! You thought the Bills would be your source of joy today and… well that was a good guess, but No, it was the Sabres who won their game! Surprise assholes!

Okay so the problems are still there. We’re still going to need y’all to win more than about three games a month. We’re going to need you to make a trade, a smart one preferably, involving a defenseman of salary. We’re going to need more than 50% of the points out of a soft(er) road trip. But funny thing: right after Miller scored the OT winner Dan Dunleavy said something curious: “The Sabres get the much needed two points here out of Edmonton!” All points in the standings matter in the unfun language of the hockey world but the Sabres were in a playoff spot before this game. Say what you will about the last three games, what was so especially needed about these two points? Dunleavy will never admit it, but these two points were for us angry, cynical fans. We needed some holiday cheer in all this dumbness. Two points out of Western Canada is ugh. Three out of six? It’s only half but its enough to get us down off the ledge a little. We’re going to need some patience this win saved against St. Louis and Nashville. It will be an interesting week, especially if Jason Botterill makes yet another trade with his hockey daddy Jim Rutherford in Pittsburgh. Like, comment and share this blog because you bet I’ll be writing that up when it happens. Get those sleigh bells ring ging gingalin’ because December has some more surprises, painful and fun, in store for us! I can just feel it after how this road trip went! Let’s Go Buffalo!

Thanks for Reading.

P.S. But yes, I didn’t forget. I said I’d look like a clown if I predicted four points out of this trip, impossible after the Vancouver loss, and then see the Sabres get two points out of Connor McDavid and the Oilers. I am in fact the clown here. What balloon animal do you want?

[caedmonfaith]

Reckless Endangerment

Summary:  Rose Tyler's smile was a drug, and he was addicted. Like any addict, he'd do anything to get his fix.

12/Rose, rated M for swearing (like, a lot of swearing) and eventual smut, chapter 1 rated T. for @timepetalsprompts​ weekly prompt. Fanart by the amazing and talented @rishidiams​

Written after a sequel to China Rose was requested. 

Beta’s by RishiDiams and @tenroseforeverandever - thank you!

World’s biggest ‘thank you’s to the ladies of Leather Fetish - @beth51276, @rishidiams, @wipedcleanbysummer - for putting up with my endless fixation on this project. <3

Chapter 1

16 December, 2016

He sat in his office, staring at the two small boxes, trying to figure out how he found himself in this position. He had no idea what had possessed him.

Well, that was a lie. He knew exactly what had possessed him. It was the same thing that possessed him every time he saw it. He was a powerful man, but Rose Tyler’s smile was his weakness, and he wanted to see it all the time. Preferably directed at him. That was terribly unlikely, though.

Ian Docherty was a bastard.

That wasn’t an insult to his character, merely a descriptor. One he didn’t mind, just as he didn’t mind his nickname, ‘the Oncoming Storm’. He was well aware of the fact that he was a bastard and made no apologies for that fact. As a Queen’s Counsel to the Crown Court, a barrister and a litigator, being an arsehole was a vital part of his makeup, necessary to his career.

But Ian had his soft spots, too.

When he’d first heard nearly eleven months ago that Sarah Jane wanted to take on a new pupil, he’d rolled his eyes. The nine partners in the firm - three senior and six junior - had been called on to vote whether or not to bring this person in. The ‘Smith’ of Stewart, Docherty, and Smith, Sarah Jane, had a habit of taking young prospective solicitors under her wing. Though he’d always scoffed at his friend and partner, even he had to admit that she had a knack for picking out exceptionally talented solicitors-to-be. More than half had been hired on permanently by the firm at the end of their pupilage year.

Still, he had no patience for them fumbling around with wide doe eyes and searching for the spare fucking copy paper and all of the other trappings of new hires. Leave that shit to someone else, thanks ever so.

It had been clear to Ian that Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, the other senior partner besides himself and Sarah Jane, was in favor of hiring this Rose Tyler, and the junior partners would vote as they felt prudent, which was to say that they wouldn’t be voting against the senior partners.

Ian had known it was a losing battle and he’d backed down into a ‘yea’ vote, but not before making his position clear: “I don’t give a fuck. Just don’t expect me to be leading this chit around by the fucking hand, alright?”

Alistair had chuckled and assured him that nobody expected any such thing, then instructed Sarah Jane to bring the girl in to meet the partners of her new workplace.

Rose had come in, looking as shy as they all did, but absolutely gorgeous. Blonde, with a wide, lush mouth, generous curves, and topaz eyes, she’d arrested his attention from the moment he’d seen her.

He’d shaken his head to clear it. So what? She was gorgeous, yes, but he was forty-five years old. He’d had his head turned by a woman before, more than once.

Then she’d given the room a shy smile, and that’s when it happened. On 26 January, 2016, Rose Tyler smiled, and Ian Docherty discovered that he had a weakness big enough to drive a lorry through.

One would think that over the course of nearly a year, an infatuation would fade away into nothing. Ian’s, however, did no such thing.

Rose worked under Sarah Jane, so despite the fact that her cubicle was only five yards away from his office door, he never had any real reason to speak with her. She was very punctual, coming in early most days, and he always missed her in the car park. She never seemed to work on any of his cases the way past pupils had, so that wasn’t an excuse. He had run into her in the break room once or twice, but there was always a red-haired girl with her and he wasn’t able to say more than ‘hello’.

Still, he was a barrister, a damned good one, and he had learned things about Rose Tyler. He’d learned that she’d grown up on a council estate, and had worked herself to the bone to put herself through law school. He’d learned that she liked ethnic food, particularly Italian and Indian. He’d learned that she lived alone and didn’t have a boyfriend. He’d learned that her favorite color was yellow. He’d learned that she kept herself healthy: she ran a couple times a week and she had a yoga class on Wednesday and a spin class on Saturday mornings. And he’d learned that while she wasn’t averse to the occasional night out of drinks with friends, she preferred to spend her evenings quietly, at home.

Ian had been hoping that somewhere in everything he’d learned, he’d find something that was a complete turn-off and would put an end to this...crush he seemed to have on her. But he hadn’t. Everything he’d learned only added to his opinion that she was the ideal woman.

Everyone else in the firm seemed to agree: everybody loved Rose. She was universally adored and hailed as being kind, funny, sweet, and talented. Nothing he’d seen suggested otherwise.

Not that any of that made a difference in the situation. She was laughably out of his league. Rose was young and beautiful; a bright spot in everyone’s day. He, meanwhile, was - well, he was not. He was old, crotchety, bad-tempered, and had earned his nickname. Not to mention she was his subordinate - and a pupil to boot. She wasn’t just out of his league, she was off-limits.

But oh, how he lived for her smiles. He didn’t catch them often but when he did, they brightened him. He could live off the memory of one of her smiles for days, but like an addict, he craved more. He could never get enough. Rose Tyler’s happiness was his drug.

When his assistant, Clara, had approached him with the idea of a staff Christmas lunch and gift exchange, he’d waved his hand dismissively. Sure. Whatever. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with assprints on the fucking copier this way. And it would be easy to make himself scarce. Brilliant.

When he’d heard that the gift exchange would be a Secret Santa and that Clara was organizing it, he was a bit more interested. Not that he’d actually put his name in a hat for something so inane, of course. He’d already be receiving a plethora of stupid gifts he never asked for: boxes of candy, coffee blends, asinine shit like that. No, ta, he wouldn’t be signing up to get more. Utterly fucking ridiculous, that.

But if Rose would be participating...well, that would make things a bit different. He couldn’t outright buy her a gift for a multitude of reasons - not the least of which was that she may not appreciate a gift from him. Surely she could have any man she wanted. A besotted old barrister twenty years her senior would hold zero appeal.

And yet...if he were to give her something under the cover of being her Secret Santa, something she really wanted, something anonymous, she may smile. And even if that smile wasn’t directed at him (why would she ever smile at him?), it would be for him. He understood the difference, and he’d have the satisfaction of knowing that he’d put it there. That he’d been able to make Rose Tyler happy.

Close enough. He’d take it. The knowledge that he’d made her happy would be enough.

When Clara had left the large bucket on the corner of her desk for everyone to drop their names and a short list of things they liked, he’d smirked. When she’d gone to lunch and left the bucket unguarded, he’d snuck out and pilfered Rose’s name.

Name: Rose Tyler Likes: I like coffee, chocolate covered cherries, comfy socks, scented lotion (no vanilla, please) and reading.

She sounded even more like the perfect woman than she had before. He detested vanilla and loved to read. He’d suspected, of course, that she was the epitome of what an ideal woman should be, but now there was evidence.

But those were the kinds of things one would expect to get at a holiday party. Nothing there was good enough. He wanted to make her day, her week. He wanted to really make her happy.

So he took to slinking around the bullpen outside his office often, but not so often as to arouse suspicion. He made up bullshit excuses to be there and eavesdropped on his employees, learning much more than he’d ever wanted to know about them and their lives. The red haired girl that was always around Rose had just married a little over a month ago, and her honeymoon in Majorca had been ‘magical’. Some young bloke - Adam something, he thought - enjoyed bragging about how clever he was and how attractive that was to women, though he stopped just short of talking about actual conquests. Ian desperately wanted to take the boy down a peg, but resisted.

Finally, just as he was about to give up, he got the information he’d been angling for.

“Of course, it’ll never happen,” Rose was saying from the other side of the cubicle wall. He waited. “I’ll never find it, and I’d never be able to afford it if I did.”

“And it’s just the butter dish you need?” came another female voice, probably the redhead.

“Yeah, and the creamer bowl. It was my grandmother’s set, but I broke the creamer bowl when I was little and the butter dish is just...gone. You know?”

“What’d it look like?”

“Oh, it was nothing special, I don’t suppose.” Rose sounded...wistful. Sad. That would never do. “The pattern is white with pink and yellow flowers on it. It’s called ‘old country roses’. Not very original, eh?”

The two women laughed, and he jotted the pattern name down on his hand as well as the required dishes, all in an unreadable shorthand in case he was stopped along the way. Then he turned on his heel and marched back to his office.

Money was no object to Ian; his salary was quite large and he had more than enough saved up to live comfortably for the rest of his life. He could afford the dishes, whatever they cost. And it would be worth it. It would all be worth it for that smile that lit up her whole face and the knowledge that he put it there.

So he went to his office and found the dishes online without too much trouble. They were sold by a company that specialized in replacing lost or broken pieces of china. He purchased them, paid for the expedited shipping, printed out the receipt, and sat back in his chair. She’d love it, and he would be a hero - even if nobody knew it but him.

He stared now - two weeks later and the day of the party - at the two boxes on his desk and sent up a prayer that this wouldn’t explode in his face.

~*~O~*~

Ian had originally planned to be anywhere but at the office during the Christmas party, but the memory of Rose Tyler’s smile and the knowledge that she may be wearing it today because of him was too big a lure.

Everyone in the office was visibly shocked when he put in his appearance, piling his plate with sub-par nibbles the firm had apparently paid for and doing his damndest to seem pleasant and festive by making small talk with the partners and his subordinates. He even managed to join in a conversation that Rose was a part of, though she seemed shy with him around. The knowledge frustrated him greatly.

After an interminable amount of time, the gift exchange was announced. Clara shot him a worried look, saying she was concerned because he’d be left out, but he plastered a smile on and assured her, honestly, that he had more than enough gifts on his desk and for her not to worry about it. He did elect, though, not to join the circle of chairs that had formed, opting instead to lean against a partition across from Rose and watch the annual exchange go down.

The gifts exchanged were the typical idiotic bullshit of the same type he was sure were resting on his desk: boxes of chocolates, mugs full of powdered hot cocoa mix, calendars, etc. There was the occasional thoughtful gift: a pair of movie tickets, a picture frame to the red-haired woman, but on the whole it was stupid shit. Typical. Predictable.

Then Rose’s bag was handed to her. Ian stiffened, his back going ramrod straight while he did his best to look unaffected. She raised and lowered the bag into her hand a couple of times and beamed, remarking on the weight. His heart pounded wildly in his ears.

Setting the gift in her lap, she pulled out the tissue paper and exclaimed, laughing. “Chocolate covered cherries!” A few of the people in the group laughed with her - Rose’s laugh was contagious - and she opened the box and popped one into her mouth, closing her eyes in bliss when she bit down.

He clenched his fists at his sides, but made no other move.

She reached into the bag again.

“What’s this? Looks like two boxes...” She pulled one out and popped the little strip of tape that held it closed. When it opened, she gasped.

“What is it?” the redhead asked.

“It’s the butter dish! The one I was telling you about! Oh, you shouldn’t have!” She threw her arms around her friend’s neck and squeezed.

“I didn’t!” she protested, puzzled, patting Rose on the back until she sat up. “Donna was my Secret Santa recipient.”

Rose cast a confused look at her, then at Donna who confirmed with a nod. Donna sat right in front of where Ian was standing, and he prayed that Rose wouldn’t look at him. He didn’t think he was that good an actor.

“What else is in it?” Rose’s friend asked, peering over the edge of the bag. “You said there were two boxes.”

Rose lay the butter dish box carefully in her lap, then reached in for the other box. Popping the tape on that one with a guarded look, she melted into tears when she saw what was inside.

“It’s the creamer bowl! Oh, I love it so much!”

The redhead leaned to the side and threw one arm around her, giving her a hug while Rose sniffled. Then she looked up. “Which one of you did this? I can’t - which of you was it?”

Everyone, including him, shrugged, and she looked a bit exasperated, but happy.

“Thank you so much, whoever you are. This means...this means the world to me, and I love you for it.”

Her smile was bright, the biggest he’d ever seen, and his heart stopped at her words. Maybe he should -

No. She was happy, and that was all he had wanted. All he did want. And he was...yes. Looking at her smile, he was happy, too.

He hung around for the rest of the gift exchange for appearance’s sake, sneaking glances to where Rose sat, still smiling, then he slipped off as soon as he was able.

It had gone better than he’d expected, he reflected as he left. She’d been truly delighted, and he rejoiced in the knowledge that he’d made her day.

He’d made Rose Tyler smile. He’d done it.

He felt like a hero and allowed himself a large, genuine smile as he turned and walked back to his office, closing the door behind him. Rose had been so happy with his gift that she’d cried. Real tears! He threaded his fingers behind his head and kicked his feet up on his desk, grinning at the ceiling.

Clara knocked at the door and he called for her to come in, smiling at her when she did. She had been his paralegal for five years and, for the last five months, she’d also been his personal assistant. She was young, beautiful, and capable, absolutely invaluable to him, and he regarded her as something of a friend. It was very rare that he asked her for information that she didn’t either know or have right on hand, and she wasn’t afraid of his towering temper the way others were. She knew when to stay out of his way and how to let his insults roll off her back, because he never really meant them. Yes, Clara was a godsend, and he’d gladly double her salary to keep her.

“Ian? Do you want a plate of nibbles to take home?”

He waved her off. “No, Clara, thank you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, a half smile on her lips, and stepped into his office fully. “What’s with you?”

“What do you mean, what’s with me?”

“You said thank you. You’re being…pleasant.”

“Can’t a man be in a good mood?”

She snorted. “Not you.”

“Why, Clara Oswald. I feel positively discriminated against.”

“Now you’re joking?” She crossed her arms and cocked one hip to the side. “Something’s going on.”

He rolled his eyes. “Nothing’s going on. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fine then, keep your secrets,” she said dismissively, then walked over to his desk to pick up the files he was finished with. “See if I care.”

Ian grinned at her, couldn’t help it. He was too damned pleased to do anything else.

“That’s awfully fucking kind of you, Clara, letting me be happy.” She gave him a withering look that just made him smile brighter.

“Ms. Smith is out of the office starting Monday. She’ll be back on January second.”

“Good for Sarah Jane.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “I’m just giving you a heads up in case she comes by and asks you to cover her cases while she’s out of town or something.”

“Duly noted. Anything else?”

“No...unless you want to tell me what has you so chipper?”

Ian waved his hand and gave her his usual dismissal. “Go away, Clara.”

She grinned mischievously and left his office, the large stack of files in one arm. Ian stared at the door for a few minutes after she left, contemplating what she’d said.

Sarah Jane was Rose’s pupil supervisor, meaning that Rose worked on her cases, and the cases that Rose had on her own were supervised by her. They were required, by nature of the pupilage, to work together closely until Rose received her practicing certificate at the end of her year as a pupil.

But if Sarah Jane was out of town, that would leave Rose unsupervised. He didn’t think for a second that someone as talented and bright as Rose would need any real supervision, but if he could talk Sarah Jane into leaving her cases with him…

He shot from his chair and strode to Sarah Jane’s office without much more thought. As was his custom, he opened her door and went right in.

“Ian,” Sarah Jane greeted him from behind her desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I understand you’re going out of town for the holidays.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I’m leaving tomorrow and will be gone until New Year’s Eve.”

“Who’s covering your caseload in that time?”

“Craig Owens.”

“Give it to me,” he said. “Owens is a fucking idiot. You don’t want him to bollocks something up while you’re gone.”

“I don’t think he’s going to bollocks anything up while I’m gone,” she said, a little tartly. “He is a partner in this law firm -”

“A junior partner.”

“ - and he is perfectly qualified to handle whatever may arise in those two weeks.”

“Do you really want to risk it? Especially with the Orestes Milton case?”

“There is nothing scheduled on the Milton case until February. There’s nothing scheduled on any of my cases until after I get back, which is why I feel secure leaving them in Owens’ care.”

Ian ground his teeth. It was out of character for him to be asking for the cases and he knew it. Pressing the issue might make her suspicious as to his motives, and he couldn’t afford that. It could be a disaster. But -

“Besides,” Sarah Jane interrupted his train of thought, “if I gave you my case files, I’d have to hand my pupil over to you as well, and I can’t do that. You’d scare the hell out of the poor girl, and she’d never come back.”

“I’m not that bad,” he muttered, knowing it was a lie even as he said it. He was that bad, if not worse.

She just burst out laughing. “You think you’re not that bad? Really, Ian? You made a judge cry!”

“That’s not...that’s not what fucking happened,” he protested feebly. It had always served his purpose for people to believe that was the case, so he’d never corrected anyone until now. He was suddenly wishing that he had.

Sarah Jane didn’t answer, just mopped her eyes and stood, dropping files in her briefcase. “I appreciate the offer, Ian, but Owens will handle everything. He’s got instructions to call me if anything major comes up, but I’ve been planning this trip for almost a year. Nothing is going to come up.”

“I hope you’re right.” Inspiration struck him then. “Why don’t you have him let me know if he has a problem, instead of bothering you on your holiday?”

She stopped what she was doing and peered at him. “Why is this so important to you?”

Fuck. Time to backpedal.

“It’s not. I just want you to have a decent fucking holiday. Seems you deserve it, yeah?”

She didn’t look convinced, but nodded anyway. “Alright. I’ll tell him if there’s an emergency to talk to you first. Provided he isn’t terrified. But I doubt he’ll have a need to.”

“Fantastic,” he muttered.

“Have a happy Christmas, Ian,” Sarah Jane said, and Ian recognized it for the dismissal it was.

“Happy Christmas to you, too.” He threw one hand up in farewell and walked back to his office with considerably less bounce than he’d had when he left.

Once there, he flopped into his chair and started scheming. Try as he might, he couldn’t come up with a legitimate reason to start a conversation with Rose Tyler. But the concept of talking to her had taken root now and wouldn’t let go.

“You alright there, boss?”

Clara startled him when she walked into his office and dropped a pile of fresh files on his desk.

“What’s this?” he asked, ignoring her question and flipping open the top file.

“It’s the Orson depositions. Thought you might like to go over them this weekend.”

“There’s nothing I’d like fucking better,” he muttered, glancing over the first page and scowling, then closing it and lying back in his chair, dragging his hands down his face.

“Cheer up, Ian,” Clara admonished him as she walked out. “You were in a good mood twenty minutes ago. It must have been a good day until then.”

She left and Ian was left sitting in his office alone. Clara was right. It had been a very good day until he’d been denied an excuse to talk to Rose. But that wasn’t the end of the world, he decided. He’d get another chance. The universe owed him one. Something would happen that would give him the opportunity to speak with her. He had no idea what, nor what he would say when that opportunity arose, but he’d cross that bridge when he got there.

He just needed to be patient.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #65

“i couldn’t take my eyes off her, but that’s not what i took off that night.”

have you ever wanted to travel to germany?   i have, yes.  if we happen to be blessed with quite a good income, i'd really like to do that once i have children, go on a big family trip to germany.  i'd need to brush up on my german, though! is marijuana legal for "recreational use" where you live? also what is your opinion on the recent legalization of marijuana in certain states?   i don't think it is... but the whole legalization shit is stupid.  you will never convince me that marijuana isn't dangerous.  don't legalize dangerous shit. do you usually have bad symptoms around "that time of the month"?   i'd say i'm luckier than most, now that i've been on the pill.  i get mild cramps, headaches, and i usually break out a bit. how do you feel about being called sweetie/dear/honey/etc.?   i'd have no problem with it.  jason never called me any of those listed though, just "love," which was my favorite anyway. do you have your national flag hanged up anywhere outside your house?   no, we don't. would you ever go to japan?   omg yes!! have you ever been in a choir?
   i was in the church, yes. have you ever had a speech impediment?   i stutter pretty badly. give out your phone number over the internet?    i have to VERY few people. what do people usually think your ethnicity is?   it's pretty obvious i'm caucasian. how do you feel about people using graphic images as a scare tactic to promote their beliefs? (i.e.: peta, abortion…)   do it.  DO IT.  it may be "too much" for someone, but that's how you initiate action, sometimes.  now i mean if you're going to show something ludicrously morbid or something, sure, censor that, please.  some things truly are too much. do you think gender neutral bathrooms are a good idea?   i'm neutral. how about the transgender bathroom business? you know exactly what i'm talking about.   HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA TUMBLR WOULD FUCKING CLOSE MY ACCOUNT IF I SAID ONE WORD ABOUT THIS MATTER. what are some of your favorite websites for online shopping?   rebel's market makes me moist. do you think it’s fair that people are able to make a reasonable salary and live comfortable lives just by making youtube videos?   not in the slightest.  they're entertainers.  just like singers, comedians, etc... inspired by an event at my school: why do you think there’s so much girl-on-girl hate in our culture?   because the country's homophobic. do you have a nice yard? if so, do you spend a lot of time outside in it? if not, where do you go when you want to relax outdoors on nice days?   there's nothing special about it.  and there's nowhere for me to relax if i wanna go outside.  we have no chairs outside or whatever. is there a group of friends that you used to hang out with but no longer do? why don’t you hang out anymore and how do you feel about them now?   i'll admit i was a loose "member" of the gothic/emo/scene/metalheads/whatever clique in high school.  because i identified most with them.  like we all sat together at lunch and such.  it was hilarious, actually; overlooking the cafeteria, there'd just be this big splotch of black. xD  i didn't "know" everyone in the group, just names, just select people.  i miss a good number of them.  we just had this... weird, underlying connection that said "hey, you're like me." how many siblings does your significant other or crush have?   he has one older brother. what is the movie that you have waited the longest for/which film do you remember anticipating the most/are still anticipating?   WHERE THE FUCK IS "THE INCREDIBLES II" do you have any ideas for a story or movie you’re planning to write or you’d write if you got the time/had the talent? please share a synopsis!   i had plenty of story ideas as a kid, but none i never fully went through, except one.  i don't feel like sharing, mostly because i barely remember it. what is something that an interested guy/girl could comment about you, that would make you instantly open to them (e.g., “that book you’re reading is from my favorite author”)?   i wouldn't just magically say "OKAY I TRUST YOU," but it would in fact entice me to trust you easier.  probably if you mentioned being a gmm fan. do you refer to yourself by any sort of fan nickname (belieber, little monster, etc.)?   mythical beast, motherfucker! \m/ do you ever just get lazy and give up on your friendships?   no.  if you think you're going to "get lazy" with a friendship, omg, just fuck off. if you are single, even if you are normally happily single, are there certain specific things you witness that make you wish you were in a relationship (e.g., people getting engaged)?   honestly, i constantly wish i was.  that sounds very desperate and... easy-to-get-ish, but i'm not lying about myself on my own blog.  single life is very lonely to me personally.  i think almost every human seeks knowing someone is interested in them in that sense and will always be there. out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? do you use it for more than one site?   my name almost everywhere is "ozzkat," which i really like, as it combines two of my favorite things. are there any cities near you that you’re afraid to go to because of the crime rate or its other bad reputations?   fuck sharpsburg.  where i grew up. do you grandparents ever judge you or stick their heads in your business? if not, is there someone else in your life you dread seeing because of their unwanted input?   my maternal grandmother is... ugh.  she's very closed-minded about important issues; like she only JUST recently opened up her mind to mental illnesses because of some drama in my family transpiring.  so for a long time, my illnesses were invalid to her.  last time i saw her though, we got along quite well. have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)?   ha ha omg just a few days back i spent all day with colleen and chels looking up tats, pinning all those i wanted on pinterest! if you ever think about getting married, what are some aspects of the wedding that you would like to see in a non-traditional manner (e.g., a different color dress or “partners” over “husband” and “wife”)?   well first, i do not want a church wedding, and i'm sliiightly considering a black dress to go with the gothic theme i'm hoping for. do you ask for other people's opinions often? on what subjects do you like to get the opinions or advice of others?   yes, i love asking for other people's opinions, mainly when i'm about to make a controversial decision.  god bless the few friends i have that've always been there to give me advice when i need it. what are you religious views or your thoughts on religion in general? how long did it take you to develop them? are you still confused or trying to figure out your religious views?   i am a creationist christian, meaning i do not believe in evolution, but natural selection, as they go in opposite directions.  this is a VERY fascinating subject and i'd love to give anyone curious a link to the blog post that instilled this belief in me.  i also believe the world was not created in six literal days, but rather the "days" stood for junctures of time.  i'm not sure which christian denomination that is.  i was raised a catholic, so i've literally always believed in god, but i turned to christianity alone in high school i think, as well as creationism when my former best friend mini exposed me to it.  i am not confused in my religion, no.  i'm quite confident in it. are you a rule follower? do you get angry if other people break the rules? can you remember a time that you have broken a rule?   it depends on the rule, really.  ex. i won't kill a person, but i'll download a song illegally.  all depends on what it is, if i support the rule, or if it's legally punishable, honestly. what songwriter do you consider to be one of the best lyricists?   CRADLE OF FILTH AND OTEP OMG SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY have you ever cried from physical pain?   as an adult?  yeah.  i fucking sobbed when i was getting my cyst emptied. what do you like best about taking surveys? do you use them to discuss current events in your personal life?   i like that they give me a chance to just... vent.  i get to talk about my life, yes, and i at least believe i can do it without being lectured. do you feel comfortable being about people your own age? do you feel like you "fit in" with people your age? in general, do you like spending time with people older or younger than yourself?   i feel... inferior to most people my age, honestly.  i don't think i fit in because i do far more unimpressive things compared to most people of my age group.  i'm not in school, i have no job, i'm not traveling to europe, i'm not married, i'm not raising a kid... i just don't feel like i belong.  simultaneously though, i like hanging out with people older than me because they're usually more mature. have you ever read more than one book at once? do you do this often?   i'm sure i have for school, but i don't do that anymore.  i don't read period. what is your favorite book series, and what is your favorite book out of that series?   ha ha omg i was MAD into the "warriors" (you know, the cat books) series in middle school through some of high school.  maybe even in elementary, i don't remember.  i don't have a favorite book in the series though, i think. who do you think reads these?   *shrugs*  i've seen my surveys taken before by people (easy to tell when everything's lower-cased and long as fuck lmao), so i guess they may read some of my answers while adding in their own.  some random tumblr users find them too, probably. can you change the oil on a car?   i cannot. the first time you discovered power:   ... i don't want to go into much detail on this, because after i thought about this question for a minute or so, i realized i have only ever felt power in a sexual situation.  i'm such a submissive person and just don't experience feeling powerful.  after thinking just now, i think me being such the sexual tease i am has to do with feeling powerful.  this is... really wrong, but i enjoyed the anticipatory knowing that jason wanted me a certain way, and because he's a man with respect, i had the say whether he could have me or not.  please do not confuse this for me saying i was controlling with my ex-boyfriend, i was incredibly submissive to him in general, but i felt in control in some sense.  for once. SCARIEST video game monster?   but... i've played so many horror games!!  uhhhh... well, i HATED the regenerators in "resident evil 4."  that fucking smile was horrifying.  hmmm... i also really hate/love the keeper/boxhead from "the evil within" bECAUSE OF HIS FUCKING WALK/JOG.  THAT thing storming towards you like that?  NO THANKS!  the one monster, however, that i think would frighten me the most in real life would be the clickers from "the last of us."  fuck those things.  they're disgusting and horrid. something someone said or did that you found extremely attractive:   well i mean, tons of things.  the thing that i believe affected me the most though was probably the time jason, in a whisper, called me his wife while we were "doing things."  he started out so afraid of commitment, and to hear him call me that in such a confident-sounding whisper, it meant... a lot.  but well.  he's gone now. something you've done that someone at least seemed to FIND extremely attractive:   lmaaoooo i'm open af on tumblr but the thing i've ever done i think jason found the most attractive, i shall not repeat.  i promise, you'd thank me. the farthest distance you would travel now to be with someone you desire:   for jason?  i'd go to the other end of the planet. what you dislike most about having a committed relationship:   i mean, i guess after you've been with someone so long, you're afraid of leaving the person even when necessary for your health.  if you're in a healthy relationship though, there's nothing i can really think of to complain about... your sexiest feature:   ... can hands be sexy?  because they're the only thing i like lmao the physical feature for which you are most often complimented:   my hair, def. a place where you have always wanted to make love:   ... a church fucking murder me the most perverted situation you have ever been in:   LOLOLOL LET'S NOT the first time you achieved orgasm:   i never have, but i think i got like agonizingly close once and had a panic attack because i didn't understand what was going on.  yes, i am truly that pathetic lmao. a person you regret sleeping with:   no one. a person you regret not sleeping with:   first i don't regret literally sleeping with jason, but i'm assuming in this context, you mean "having sex with."  in that case, jason. a fantastic kisser you have known:   only ever kissed jason, and i am QUITE sure there's no one i'll meet who'll be better.  like ffs he only had one partner before me and certain things he did with me he didn't with his ex, yet he always seemed to know what to do...? the book, song, or movie title that best describes your sexuality:   uhhh.  idk? you have a great amount of guilt regarding:   practically sexting my former best friend's boyfriend when i was like 12.  and i was the one who got them together. a moment in your life when your emotions froze and you felt absolutely nothing:   when jason told me he was talking to dillon about our relationship in a negative context... i knew. you are haunted by the memory of:   everyone knows by now. one of your most peaceful moments:   lying with jason on the trampoline, looking up at the stars... a sickness or disease you fear:   more than anything?  alzheimer's/dementia.  i can't forget.  i can't.  i don't care how tragic my life's been, i don't want to fucking forget. a reason for which you would seriously contemplate suicide:   if jason died.  i'd more than consider it. your greatest fear about marriage:   divorce.  marriage is supposed to be for forever; i don't want to marry the wrong person. what's your mood right this minute?   i'm actually... okay-ish.  for once in my life.  i'm talking to my friend jax about a private subject, and it's opening my mind to some possibilities about certain things.  i feel like a weight's crumbling from my shoulders. ever had an internal worm?   NONONONONONONONONO PLEASE GOD NEVER THEY TERRIFY ME FUCK THAT have you ever been in a lighthouse?   no, but i'd love to. :< do you find that you have a certain meal you eat every time you go to certain restaurants?   i always get the same meal when i go to any restaurant. you have the option to have sex right now. do you do it?   only if it's with jason, yeah. would you ever lie to someone to make them feel good about themselves?   depends on the subject. do any medical problems run in your family?   OHHH GOD HERE GOES.  let's see.  heart disease, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, cancer, depression, anxiety, bipolarity, and i can absolutely guarantee i'm forgetting some... something you really want right now?   i'd rather not say. have you cuddled with someone you weren’t dating?   i have not. how long have you been using tumblr?   not even a year yet. what was the last pill you took?   idk.  i take my morning pills in bulk. where was the last place you got completely wasted?   i've never been completely wasted. describe god:   i'd... rather not with how life is right now. your most spiritual moment:   i still believe i had a dream once sent to me by god.  when i was much younger, i had a dream that i walked outside onto my front porch, and two geese, one white, one black, flew in sync with each other to perch before me.  they morphed into my grandfather, who smiled at me, and my former cat midnight, who meowed.  i really do feel like this was god reminding me my loved ones will always watch over me, because the feeling it gave me, it was holy. how you picture the end of the world:   the biblical definition, i guess.  pretty much everything that can go wrong, goes wrong.  it sounds terrifying. do you feel that most wars started because of religious conflicts?   i am honestly not knowledgeable about aaaall the wars in our history to determine this answer fairly.  i do, however, believe a good majority are related to religion. does life exist on other planets?   no.  speaking of "life on other planets," isn't it funny how a trace of water on mars is called life, but an unborn fetus isn't?? do you believe we are descendants of adam and eve?   yes, i do. the first step toward resolving poverty:   hunny, i wish i could tell you.  there are a LOT of factors to this. the worst crime against humanity:   hm.  i honestly don't know what i consider the worst.  i'll think about that and come back to this question if i think of anything. the minimum punishment for those who molest children should be:   fucking kill them. your most beautiful childhood memory of your parents:   probably something regarding fishing... your most horrifying childhood memory of your parents:   hearing my mom screaming in ashley's room, calling her a slut, a whore, worrying i'd be in ashley's place some day... a friend you would name as a godparent to your child:   if we're even still friends then... colleen. the moment you are most ashamed of:   i've told this story enough times.  it's the same moment i'm most embarrassed of. someone who shared this moment with you:   um.  his name is joel. what do you think of people who have fake relationship statuses (like married to their best friend) on facebook?   i mean it's whatever, but it may be frustrating if you wanna know if that person is really in a relationship without asking. if your employer looked at your facebook page, do you think they'd fire you?   lmao after seeing i'm conservative, i'm sure. do you wish facebook had a "dislike" button or would that cause too many arguments?   i'm neutral.  i see both sides. who's your favorite band? how long have they been your favorite?   ozzy and metallica have been two of favorites since middle school started, and the others, i don't really remember.  my most recent favorite band tho is a day to remember, who i've liked for a bit over a year now. do you get annoyed when people try to get you to like their music, even though you've told them before that it's just not your thing?   that's never really happened to me.  now, i've been told my music is pretty much devil music and is nothing about depression, death, and despair because my best friend's fucking ignorant, but she hasn't tried to control the kind of music i like exactly. last concert you were at? was it good?   alice cooper, and it was EPIC.  it was storming and we were all soaking wet outside.  he did that illusion where his head gets chopped off by a guillotine, which was REALLY cool.  towards the end, huge balls were being passed through the crowd and he sang a rendition of "another brick in the wall" by pink floyd and it was just.  holy shit it was badass. who was your favorite band in elementary school? do you still listen to them?   it was probably green day, and yeah, i love them. looking at your appearance alone, would people be surprised to learn that you listen to the music that you do (ex. do you dress goth but listen to country)?   it's pretty obvious what i listen to. pro-gay rights or anti-gay rights?   i am for rights towards certain parts of the LGBTQ+ community.  i'm sorry to tell you, but i sincerely believe there are... certain sexual/gender-oriented decisions... that are not "real."  i won't go into detail on tumblr because it's a liberal parade and frankly i don't feel like hearing it. separation of church and state or no?   DEPENDS DEPENDS DEPENDS.  it REALLY depends on the very unique situation. prayer in school, yay or nay?   you'd best let a child pray to themselves in school. free healthcare (like in canada), good or bad?   make it free, yes. using the word "slut" against women--okay or not okay?   against a woman who deserves it?  sure.  before every fucking reader gets triggered, a slut is merely defined as a feminine character who has multiple sexual partners without much commitment.  ummm, last time i checked, there are women who do JUST that???  it's just a fact???  i'm white.  you can call me white without fucking offending me.  same thing for a "slut," i'd merely be stating a fact about you.  people have made such a big fucking deal out of this word. if you were pregnant, how long would you wait to write something about it on facebook?   OH BOY IT'D BE QUICK.  probably right after my husband knew, really!  i've already got pregnancy announcements planned!  i want to make a really creative pregnancy announcement photograph with my hubby, those are like... my favorite pictures ever. (: when you're on a first date with someone, do you like it when they ASK if they can kiss you?   i'm not really into the idea of a first date kiss, but yeah, i think i'd appreciate being asked. in your opinion, is omitting some of the truth the same thing is lying?   hm.  i do believe i- well... i don't know.  it depends on what you say, i guess, but in general, you're not lying yet...? what's your favorite kind of lip piercing? (monroe, labret, snakebites, etc.)   vertical labret!!!  i really like these because i feel it enunciates the symmetry of your face. what's the most annoying "type" of drunk person?   well i mean, this is far more repulsive than annoying, but angry drunks. at what time in your life were you happiest? if it was in the past, would you want to go back and relive it, though still knowing all the things you know now? if you had the option, would you choose (if it’s in the present) or have chosen to stay here/there forever and never learn anything new?   the whole time i was dating jason.  the first one or two years were the best.  but would i go back there, knowing what i do now?  no.  i can't.  there's no way i could. when is the right time to start having sex with someone you’ve become romantically interested in?   honestly this is the same thing as a question i answered earlier today about when to consider getting engaged.  time doesn't really determine this, but rather the intensity of the bond created.  in general again though, i'd personally wait about a year, i suppose, to ensure you're both very serious about these feelings. if you honestly heard the voice of god talking to you, would you tell anyone? how would you tell them? (i.e., "Conversations with god" is a result of the author claiming to have heard god’s voice loud and clear, but some people would have gone packing to the mental institution, and others would have told their church… etc.)   i would hate that, honestly.  i don't wanna be hearing voices, regardless of who you are.  but i do believe i'd tell my mom, but probably only her. have your parents ever told you that you couldn’t hang out with a certain someone?   that i couldn't, no, that they didn't recommend it, yes. could you forgive a boyfriend or friend who physically hurt you?   LMAO NOPE BYE FAM do you take care of your friends when they’re sick?   the only person i've ever truly taken care of when sick was jason when he had bronchitis. do you own any real diamonds or other expensive jewelry?   i don't think so. has anyone ever gave you jewelry as a present?   mhmm. do you like diamonds or gemstones better?   other gemstones, def. silver or gold?   gold.  i find it prettier and i can't wear silver anyway, i'm allergic. what kind of soda is your favorite?   mountain dew, shamefully. do you use any acne products?   not anymore. what do you take when you have an upset stomach?   peptobismol do you get angry when people criticize your taste in music, or do you just shrug it off?   when people say they don't like it, not at all, but if you're gonna straight-up criticize it like it's "bad" or "wrong" or something...?  i won't get angry, but definitely annoyed.  i find it aesthetically pleasing.  you find your music aesthetically pleasing.  shut the fuck up. have you ever smoked?   i have not.

[askdaizyduque]

Inside Out

It was sometime past midnight that humid Monday in Orlando the one place she vowed never to return. Eve Munro held the final pose. Steady and strong as a marble sculpture. Exactly as choreographed. Precisely on her mark. The International Dinner Experience wasn’t unlike the many theaters she performed in since she was five years old. Wooden floor, bulky forest green curtains, footlights, tree stands in the wings, scrims, spot lights in the balcony, one on either side of an impressively equipped sound and lighting board and the musicians’ loft. Ordinary, the theater watched scores of performers come and go over the years. It held secrets and dreams galore. The place seemed innocuous but soon and unplanned it would become a vehicle to the place of questions with no answers.

If Eve stood there much longer she would know exactly how many seats it held including dimensions. Christ almighty. She waited for the dance captain to speak up so she could relax her position for God’s sake. Her left foot hurt like a bitch and her back was angry from overuse. Not one to project less than iron like tenacity she slowly softened her diaphragm and took a deep breath. For fuck’s sake, she thought, what’s the deal?

Without moving and through her smile she asked, “Am I there? Can I?”

Luanne Brooks, the long time dance captain of the only dinner theatre in town, laughed, “Oh I’m sorry sweetie. Of course. Look at you. Gettin’ it on the first run.” She was a southern talking long legged brunette. Not much to look at but had the goods to sing and dance in the show as well as a daytime shows at a local theme park revue. “I was in a daze just fer a second. Yer really good.” Her genuine smile faded and she looked down and most crucial Eve saw.

“Shit. Seriously I’m not getting hired,” she thought. Eve was exhausted and had to pee like the time she drank four Budweisers in one hour. As she bent to unbuckle her shoe the awkward look on Luanne’s face made Eve feel anxious. The athletic, slender performer plopped and sat on her butt. Certain her voice sounded desperate she controlled the words, “Any notes? How was the section with the leaps?” She needed this gig. The move from Miami was one month ago exactly and so far she only taught some ballet classes plus the evil six o’clock in the morning aerobics classes and two more of those bastards a day five days a week. She freaking hated them putting on the happy you can do it face for the overweight, uncoordinated and sometimes lazy students who ran out of breath after five minutes, but hey money gets tight when the salary gap is widened and there was Dawson, her eight year old daughter, to care for. Eve had to work. She wiped the sweat from her chest onto the pullover wrapped at her waist. She cleansed her lungs and deliberately procrastinated what needed to be done next. Like hundreds of times before she pulled back the foot section of her tights and picked at moist medical tape. Her pinky toe was broken, again, the third time to be exact. Admittedly she was a klutz off stage because, as instructed for many years, she did not look down when walking. Seemed her last toe was always getting cracked against a piece of furniture or what not. Earlier before rehearsal she wrapped pinky and the next toe together for some stability. The tape rubbed the bare skin raw and blisters popped up. Blood on the bandage was no surprise. “Oh shit. Ow ow ow.” she did it quickly dragging some skin along with the tape. Her almond shaped blue eyes

focused on Luanne’s expression as she reached over for her dance bag in the wings.

Luanne looked at Eve and as habit she massaged the back of her neck and said, “It was great. Kurt wasn’t fibbin’ about you. Better than a rodeo horse riding queen’s barrel contest breakin’ a speed record.” She laughed but it sounded fake. “Hey how ‘bout a break? It’s gettin’ late. Want some water? Oh do ya’ have any questions?”

Eve used her bag’s shoulder strap to slide it across the stage closer to her. She felt around until she found the bottle. After a decent gulp she said, “Thanks but I brought my own water.” Damn. Loss of patience yielded sarcasm so she quickly softened her tone. “I do. But right now all I want is to know is if I’m getting cast in the show?”

“Oh golly. Silly me. Of course. Kurt told us how good ya’ are. Yer goin’ on the schedule for this weekend. I hope that’s okay sweetie. And we still have the costume fitting. It’s two shows a night. Seven thirty and nine forty-five.”

There was the neck rubbing again and repetitive knuckle cracking. Eve ignored that and clapped, “Thank you. Thank you.” A wave of relief and gratitude lightened any doubts allowing her body to relax a bit. “I can’t wait to tell Kurt. Yes. Yes. He’s going to be happy. You made my whole day. Maybe you can put in a good word for me where you and Kurt work. You’ve seen I learn choreography like that,” she snapped her fingers and showed her first genuine smile all evening. Eve’s at rest face made her look mean so she took care when meeting potential employers not to come off as a bitch. Either way she was beautiful with a pleasing heart shaped face and good skin which proved an asset in her career. Many friends confessed when they first met Eve they were standoffish but once they took the time to get to know her they found she was funny as hell and quick with comebacks. Even Kurt treaded lightly around Eve when they met seven years earlier.

Kurt Lansing was Eve’s husband. He too was a dancer but lacked the definitive drive for perfection Eve had. They loved their careers and each other. He was Eve’s knight in shining armor when he rescued her from the previous abusive husband. They were carefree show biz gypsies relocating every six months or so, depending on contracts. Eve loved Kurt with her whole being.

As Kurt would say, “We’ve got the perfect family.”

Three peas in a pod doing what they loved and making great friends along the way. Eve and Kurt were sometimes cast as partners. They practiced at home and rehearsed lifts in the pool with Dawson there enjoying the water show.

Eve did not dance only because she liked to. She danced to breath life into her soul. Or maybe visa versa but each time she made an entrance onstage she felt a vital energy surface. Sensual overflow. When partnering she fit with Kurt’s body perfectly and brought a vibrancy to the choreography. Rhythm, movement and two melting into one, was a turn on. Sometimes she felt guilty that she found the secret sensuality of dance because it happened with almost any partner. Once a show closed it’s run though any fantasies disappeared with it.

They projected the perfect ideation of family. Except for that one time. The time she learned about Kurt fucking her girlfriend, a chorus girl in the Freeport show. Tanya and Eve shared a spot in the dressing room, trading stories, applying show make-up and styling their wigs every night. Eve considered Tanya her best friend. Sadly, Tanya’s husband Miguel came along for that run and certainly was affected by their marital treason. Eve still struggled with the reality of the debacle. The worst of it for her besides the thoughts of her husband’s dick inside Tanya’s slut vagina or elsewhere was her naivety. Eve was not not a jealous woman. She genuinely trusted Kurt. Once out in the open though she was obviously the last to learn of the grand love affair. From time to time she’d torture herself with mental rewind of how many times she must’ve have been labeled as the ultimate jack ass. Fool. Court jester, dumb blonde. Tanya the cast and crew, everyone of them betrayed Eve. Maybe not with malice but then negligence. Someone could’ve warned her, left an anonymous note, anything. Eve came to find out those two had been with each other for months.

Confession night it was pitchblack. Eve remembers walking alone during a torrential June downpour with no destination in mind. How many movies showed similar cliche scenes? No matter. She never bought into the boo hoos or fear the characters were meant to portray. Too melodramatic. What was the purpose? She found out that night for herself at least. The affair made her feel dirty, used, trashy and stupid. At one point she cried so much there was no difference of tears and rain. Running didn’t make a difference. Her hopes the rain could wash away the truth and take with it the immoral filth she believed infected her. It felt like she had a contagion and no one would get close to her again. Eve stopped and raised her face to the sky mouth wide open. She kept on her journey to nowhere, staggering, stumbling on the uneven pavement. Then came the devil of insecurity. Which she, in a way, welcomed. It was better than the burning wound of emotional betrayal. What did she or didn’t she do to cause this? Silent promises bounced around inside her head. Vows she would fix it. She would fix herself and become the dream wife. Her mental list included cooking more often. No limitations on sex or anything Kurt desired in the bedroom. It was her goal to please Kurt at any cost. A new look. Makeup and hair styled on her one day off.

Sad. A lone figure in the dark. Soggy sagging sweatpants and a tank top heavy from the drenching hung from her frame, barefoot. She postured like a pathetic beaten dog. Eve pulled at her hair over and over. Somehow it felt good. At least it was tangible. Better than invisible emotional torture. What? No. The burning pain on her feet made her look them over and sure enough they were sliced in several places. A fallen tree filled in for a chair and she rested on it’s dried, rough bark, relieved the dramatics were easing. By now the rain was trickling and she had no more tears. Not even left- overs to bring out if necessary. The fog of irrational thoughts cleared as Eve played back some more tropical island happenings. Bad idea.

A good portion of the show’s cast lived in a cluster of rental homes on stilts next to a private lagoon. Eve and Kurt were in House 3. Directly across from them lived Tanya and Miguel. A large swimming pool sat smack in the middle of the circle of houses. There were numerous barbecues, parties and bonfire get togethers. Fun.

Infidelity is not stagnant therefore it’s roving energy finds unintended victims and witnesses. The truth is, infidelity doesn’t have to happen. Simple. Finish one project before taking on a new one. Sure there will be sadness. But sadness vs lies and betrayal, Eve would choose any day.

That was over with though. She told Kurt that was his one chance to be a piece of shit and if he ever did it again she was gone. She quickly dismissed the cheating and put it aside. Eve decided to just enjoy this good news.

The two dancers headed to the stairs. Luanne turned off the stage work lights. Immediate change of surroundings. Eve spent her life backstage yet was terrified of dark empty theaters. She glanced up at a spot light and with it’s canvas cover draped over, it resembled a ghostly figure from any one of the scary movies Eve loved. She swiveled to change the view and scared herself more with the myriad of shadows and set pieces lurking. Staring back she picked up her pace still wearing only one shoe.

Luanne led the way and not fast enough for Eve’s bladder. Midway up she stopped, turned and looked into Eve’s eyes. She let her dark brown hair down and shook her head. “You seem like a such... a nice such a nice person. Lordy we don’t know each other. But you deserve to hear the truth.” She struggled to form a sentence, “You, he oh golly damn. Kurt and Gwen are not only co-workers and they’re not friends. They’re havin’ an affair.”

Eve nearly fell backward down the stairs when Luanne hugged her close for an uncomfortable length of time. Eve felt paralyzed and empty. What should she say? Thank you? Are you sure? Does Gwen’s husband know? How about, can you please help me get this knife out of my heart, find a bucket for me to puke in, become steady legs instead of my shaking ones, and last can you glue my life back together and we’ll just leave the last part out?

Luanne’s face paled and a vertical worry line formed as her eyebrows grew taught. “Honey I gotta skedaddle. I’ll call ya’ with the schedule. Good job tonight. Drive safely.” She couldn’t get out the stage door fast enough.

Eve , twenty-seven years old a mother, a wife, an accomplished dancer, actor, model so many fucking things but what fucking good was she? The dance bag dropped with a thud. Eve sat and took off her other shoe dropped it as if it was too heavy and cradled herself. She put her head on her knees and slowly took her bandana from her short blonde hair. Several minutes passed only her breathing interrupted the silence.Without a sign of intention Eve ran to the stage hit the light switch, turned on the music and danced. Turning, kicking, swaying, writhing, slithering, jumping. Eve kept dancing. Her lungs begged for mercy but she didn’t offer any. When the music went silent her movements became peculiar for a classically trained ballerina. No coordination or technique as if against her will, controlled by an invisible force. Not dance. It was more like a desperate search. Up stage, down stage from one side to the other. Much like aged films of asylum patients searching halls for their minds. She finished front and dead center of the stage’s apron. Her lungs on fire for all she knew. The agony and anguish came from the inside out of Eve’s body.

Eve sensed a misalignment in the marriage lately. Probably stress from a new home and a new job. Kurt mentioned Gwen’s name at least three times last week. Pink flag, but it furled in the back of Eve’s mind. He insisted she and Gwen should become friends and p

Eve would really like her a lot. Red flag. Eve flat out dismissed common sense for fairy tales and ignored her intuition. Two nights ago she and Kurt went to a party where Eve talked with other singers and dancers, had a drink and mingled. She started to enjoy herself but it didn’t last long. She turned the corner into the kitchen where perfect timing made Eve watched Gwen bend over to open the oven door and Kurt smacked her on the ass, Their immature giggles proved that was not the first time they’d played together. Eve’s stomach did a somersault and the horrific feeling of humiliation, abandonment and betrayal endured from his last affair awoke from slumber. Eve found it impossible to rationalize the pain of love. Her thoughts were incoherent. Eve Munro had lived some life already, but her naive ego never expected adultery. It was more likely she’d grow a new pinky toe than be cheated on. Not in her plans. Foolish it never came to mind.

She stood center stage. The stage. The stage was a sacred place for Eve where she felt safe and wanted. Dancing for an audience was her high. She had dabbled with drugs but wasn’t for her. Nothing brought ecstasy to her core like dancing. She fell to her knees. The sounds she made were like hiccups but lower in her belly. Soon she was crying then dry heaving. Thoughts of Dawson filled her mind and she feared her reaction was a deadly seizure. She rolled onto her back, pounded her fists on the floor. She wanted out of her skin. Shed it all. Start new. Her grief backed off and gave in to sleep. When she woke the epiphany that true life held the real demons was clear. For the first time Eve welcomed the darkness and walked amongst the shadows with determination.

Eve understood what was ahead of her. She turned the lights off. Now nothing scared or hurt her as deeply as the ugly lies tossed her way from Kurt. Eve’s empty darkened heart erased the fears of dark theaters that ran wild in her imagination. Eve loved the stage more than yesterday because the stage loved her. The stage never betrayed but waited patiently for her next entrance.