#I was angrily typing it and working with a word salad

[leconcombrerit]

A warm hug to Non, or when are we going to stop demanding perfection from victims

It's been forever since I thought about making this post but I've finally decided to write the goddamn thing.

Three disclaimers : one, I haven't yet managed to get past the first third of episode 9, so this whole thing is based on episodes 1-8 at best. Two, I'll block on sight again if I see victim blaming on this post. Finally, I'm by no means an expert on the subject. It's complex, I might get things wrong and I'll have to oversimplify at times for clarity and brevity's sake, please don't kill me for it. It's probably gonna be long enough as it is. I've tried my best to organize my thoughts in a way that would make sense, but. Well. I hope it does.

Trigger warning for mention of suicide, bullying, grooming, sexual assault, rape

Non started as the poor little baby everyone wanted to protect -both the audience and Jin ; for all the shit he got after filming Non and Keng, there are a lot of parallels to draw between him and the audience. Then the dreaded episode 7 happened and all hell broke loose. I won't include screenshots of the disgusting things I read from some viewers about Non, but Jin's reaction is pretty telling already.

The easy explanation would be that he's mad Non isn't returning his feelings, but I think it has more to do with Non not fitting his 'good victim' role anymore. There's sadness on his face, but the dominants are anger and betrayal. Non tries to regain agency and gets crucified for it.

So what's a good victim ?

Non, basically

If you want an examplary blueprint of what society defines as a good victim and survivor, someone worth justice, defending and loving, just take a look at Non. I broke it down in four marks that need to be checked :

-Innocence : none of the person's action prompted the abuse -Moral high ground : the person has values and displays kindness -Helplessness : the person cannot do anything about the situation they're stuck in -Accepting to be saved : self-explanatory. The person has to accept the help that's offered to them, traditionally by a love interest

Non is abused for being poor, something he's not responsible for. He's hardworking, honest, passionate about the things he loves and commits to his engagements. He's kind when talking with Jin. He's resilient in the face of the gang's bullying. None of what he could do or say would make it stop, neither can he help owing Por for a camera he hasn't broken nor get out of Tee's pyramid scheme. His mental illness only increases this impression of vulnerability. Jin doesn't have all these elements, but he's got more than enough to paint a very similar picture of Non as the audience.

As for accepting help, Jin repeatedly offers some -and Non finally lets him in during their conversation on the rooftop. What Jin offers may be little but it's still help ; Non smiles and even gives Jin a shove -what I think is the only time he initiates contact with Jin at all.

"Thank you so much, Jin, for helping me all along." "It's alright, I'm glad to. I just want to see you smile again, Non."

The audience gets even more of Non being happy and grateful to be saved : he calls his "♥" contact for help multiple times, smiles at the reminder to take his meds and, later on, clings to Phee for dear life after trying to kill himself. He doesn't fight him, he doesn't reach for the scattered pills. Hell, even accepting Tee's offer to make money could count as Non agreeing to be saved by everyone around him.

Non checks all the marks. Everyone in the audience is rooting for him, the other boys can all go get impaled on a branch, and Jin looks at him like he hung and lit all the stars in the sky.

Speaking of the other boys...

Tee and Por victims as well but don't get the same amount of sympathy, if any. Tee isn't responsible for being stuck in a criminal environment and can't get out of it ; no one has offered help, so he gets a pass. But he's been shown to be selfish, opportunist, often cowardly and sometimes gratuitously cruel.

As for Por, it's even worse : every actions he takes seems to confirm his dad's opinion of him. The only mark he ticks is accepting to be saved by his mother, which looks very bad taken on its own. I made a post about Por not too long ago if you want more.

The only way for them to redeem themselves and go from 'horrible people who should die' to 'maybe they don't suck they're my poor little meow meows' is penitence. Take Por ; he's the archetype of the rich son who gets abused by his dad and suffers from having so much money. Just like Kang in Dangerous Romance, or Tanthai in Laws of Attraction. Tee ? I don't have names from the top of my head, but he's that hardened jaded guy stuck in a mafiosi network who has to learn to love and be loved again (enters White). Yet the audience learnt to root for these characters.

Basically, nothing is set in stone. Your status as a good or bad victim can shift depending on your actions and the way they're framed. The usual narrative is to get those characters to grow into the acceptable victim pattern. DFF however is going for reverse development (Non, Jin) or stagnation (Por, Tee, Fluke). It makes for gritty yet very realistic storylines ; and while I'm the first to yell that the masked figures should get their ass stat, I also recognize that there's much more complexity to them than this. Except Top. I have yet to come up with a good explanation for what they're doing with Top, but I will at some point.

How did Non fall from grace if he's such a good example ?

Three points : Phee, the paradox of the demand for Non to seek agency but not too much, and his inacceptable betrayal.

Phee as a magnifying factor

I love this kid to bits but Phee's appearance in the flashbacks concurs with Non's flawless image being torn to shreds for a reason. He's a good, strong and caring person who loves and tries to protect Non -something the audience has wanted to do for weeks ; so we all gathered behind Phee and made him our emissary, carrying out the impossible task outsiders to the series' world couldn't : saving Non.

Since Phee voices the questions and concerns of the audience, we are Phee to an extent. Betraying Phee means betraying the hope and love and care the audience has for Non. Phee is the series' moral compass by that point. I'm sure you see where I'm going with this. If not, consider it's a surprise tool that will help us later. When Phee gets hurt by Non or decides he'd be better off lost and dead.

For the record, in this poll Phee gets even fewer votes than White

Seek agency, but not too much

Discontent starts to rise with the helplessness point first as viewers start to question why Non doesn't ditch the group. Why he's putting himself through such trouble. Non changes from being subjected to others' action to being the subject in a grammatical sense. Yet Non has hiw own reasons to stay (how much does the movie mean to him ? How many hours and sleepless nights on the script ? How long would it take for him to find another chance to get enough funding ? How big of a dream is it for him ?). It's the first occurence of the audience claiming to know best what's good for Non.

Complaints quiet down when Non does try to leave for good only to be stopped by Jin. We saw him try, we saw him fail, he really couldn't leave so he's off the hook.

Jin also makes sure Non remains a perfect victim by bringing him back into the group. I'm not accusing Jin of trying to make Non suffer on purpose ; he's a good guy at heart, come fight me to death on this hill. But the only way for him to exist in Non's life is to remain a savior of sorts. If Non leaves, there's nothing to save him from. Which brings us to my next point.

Non must try to solve things by himself, sure. But not too much. Because when you thrash to regain control of your life, you might break a few things in the process. Especially if you have to wrest it away from well-intentioned but firm hands.

He rejected Jin's offers to help numerous times. He looked anything but thrilled when Phee put himself in danger to clear his name. He refused to change schools at first, only to begrudgingly agree when Phee insisted. This insistence is the heart of the matter : Phee is sure he knows best, so he bulldozes through Non's objections and hesitation : he doesn't consult him before asking his dad for help, he speaks in his place when Non doesn't answer his proposal, he puts the bracelet on his wrist. He asks him if he's taken his meds, just in case.

Phee has the audience's benediction in doing so. Part of it stems from our knowledge of future events : we know it's going to end bad for Non. We know he has to get the fuck out. We know whatever decision he makes will be a bad one. Kids and teenagers as a whole are often deemed unable, or not mature enough to make informed decisions anyway. Just look at Non's mother telling him to prioritize his studies so he can go abroad like his brother. Multiply it tenfold for people with mental illnesses ; they get babied on a daily basis. So Non cannot, I can't emphasize it enough, cannot do anything.

All of the above end with Phee getting his way. Non can't win against him, so he chooses to lie instead.

Aside from willing to be in charge of his own life, Non's refusal to let Phee help is also rooted in love and fear. While Phee would offer him an easy way out as he did for the bank accounts, it would most likely only be easy for Non and put Phee in danger. Both their survivals are held in that curt 'no'.

He's already straight up refused help, and now he loses the moral highground by lying (to his perfect holy savior Phee of all people). From here on out, any action he takes will be his -which is what Non wanted ; it's his life, and he won't be a bystander in it. But it also means that he jumped off the pedestal he'd been put on to land on thin ice.

And guess what, Non is a multi-dimentional character in a difficult situation who weighs more than a poor little damsel in distress. Of course said ice cracks. And the Non hate train gets started.

The betrayal

Lying and refusing help to go get it from the worst place he could have had was bad enough. But sleeping with his teacher while he had a boyfriend (Phee, for heaven's sake) ? Unforgivable. Cheating is the BL equivalent of every cardinal sin, the worst of the worst, and no matter the circumstances you'll get roasted for it.

And yet there are circumstances. One, especially, and it's called motherfucking grooming. I won't elaborate on this point cause I've done it over and over already, but Non was groomed by an adult. Does he see things that way ? Probably not. In his mind he's in control of the situation. He can lie to Phee about it because there's no reason for it to backfire. He does what he has to if he wants to save himself, using he one weapon he has : his body. It's cheating, but cheating in a game rigged for you to lose.

Society has two opinions about sex. It's either holy or gross. Take Jin, for instance.

See the look on his face. He's heartbroken, he's sad, he'll live through it. Witnessing Non having sex with his teacher when he has a boyfriend ? Now that's another story. That's a betrayal.

A betrayal of what, exactly ?

Of this goddamn image Jin had painted of Non. The same the audience was given to see prior to these events : Non was perfect and loveable and worth defending, an innocent, pure, helpless baby in need of saving. So when the illusion shatters in what society and especially BL culture hold as the worst action possible, people feel fooled. Stupid, if you will. And they turn their hatred to Non. Non lied to us ! He pretended to be good, dear god, to think I loved such filth ! My heart is so dirty now, ew.

But Non didn't lie. He lied to Phee, but that's it. Everything else was expectations and assumptions. Fail to meet them and suddenly everything is your fault. It's Non's fault for refusing to be dragged along in his own life anymore, Non's fault for lying in order to get some control, Non's fault for lying again not to lose Phee when caught by surprise, Non's fault for listening to Jin, Non's fault for resorting to use his only weapon to get out of a situation he was cornered in, Non's fault for being tricked into thinking any of the decisions he made regarding Keng were his own, Non's fault for everything.

He wanted to claim his life back and made a mistake, yes. He doubled-down on it when he realized it was too much for him to handle. He clung to it and did his best to keep it together. He dared not to be the perfect victim he was supposed to be ; to try when everyone knew he was bound to fail. And you know what, sometimes there's stuff that's someone's fault, consequences they didn't foresee, things they said, slips and falls, and they're still victims, just as much as they were before.

I believe that dealing with his debt himself is as important to Non as finishing the movie is. He's ready to be used and abused (by Keng in the former, the group for the latter) and to break his own heart, values, pride and sanity. He's the most resilient and dedicated character in the show to me.

But the world doesn't necessarily see it that way. So when Non realizes the mess he's made of everything, he fights Keng (who represents his desperate and violent search for complete independence) to reach for the bracelet he got from Phee. He wants help. He needs it. But he's not a victim anymore and any help is denied.

Both Phee and Jin later manage to reconcile their broken image of Non with the man he actually is. Too late to save him, but they still did. I have a hunch that things would have been different if Phee had beat up Keng and taken a crying Non in his arms, holding him tight while whispering none of it was his fault. But our moral compass fucked up, like the hurt kid he is.

What some people did by blaming and hating on Non is closer to the hateful comments he got on the video than Phee or Jin's reactions. They're far worse.

That's the big takeout. What if we stopped stigmatizing or idealizing sex ? What if we stopped demanding perfection and so-called purity for someone's trauma and status as a human being not to be negated ?

Anyway, here's a hug to Non and every victim who live in the paralyzing fear of a single slip. You can make mistakes just like the rest of us. You don't owe anyone perfection.

I'll end this rant on a bright, happy smile. I don't see a good ending for Non, but god knows he'd deserve it.

[peachyteabuck]

do you think about me now and then / fallon carrington x reader

summary: you and fallon have a very specific type of routine

a commission for @devillskettle

pairing: fallon carrington x reader

words: 1226

trigger warnings: FWB, fingering, strap riding, orgasm, angst if you squint?, 

Reading is hard.

You’ve been trying to finish this book for weeks. It’s not as though it’s not good! It’s fantastic, it’s been recommended to you by so many people…and yet, here you are on a wintery Friday night, tucked into the world’s most comfortable recliner, with the world’s most comfortable blanket, and the world’s most comfortable three-sizes-too-large hoodie and underwear that’s seen you through three apartments, four girlfriends, and your summer obsession with audio porn.

Here you are, in the perfect conditions to finish this fucking book…and yet here you are, scrolling through Instagram as you stalk yet another person you graduated college with who just got married.

You’re soon glad you’re looking at your phone, though, because your droomscrolling is rudely interrupting by someone calling. Luckily, It may be someone who can make this night a little better.

“Hey, Fallon,” you try to ignore the flutter in your chest. Neither you nor Fallon were looking for a relationship (work always came first, despite your differences the both of you could agree with that). Still, the oil former-baronness has never left you dissatisfied, and you liked to think the arrangement you two had outlined one fateful spring night benefitted each of you. “What can I do for you this fine evening?”

You can hear her huff angrily, and you’re sure she’s already rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

And…?

“I’ll be at your place in thirty. Food is already ordered. Have a glass of red prepared for me when I get there.”

You smile. It’s been a tough week, something about mergers and lawyers and the HR department. You’re not really sure, you work in accounting at a different media company, but from the whispers on Slack and the texts from Fallon…it has not been her easiest week. But her call comes as no surprise—this little ritual of yours, the food, the wine, the sex…It had become an easy way for the both of you to blow off steam. It was a good, simple relationship between people who had signed enough NDAs to know what to keep private. Like a Secretary of State to her therapist, the both of you understand the nature of insider trading and the risks it poses to both of your careers.

Still, nothing was illegal about vague, wine-induced gossiping. And so vague, wine-induced gossip you two did.

Food arrives only a few minutes before Fallon does, the woman letting herself in as you plate what you know to be her order (Caeser salad, light dressing, with a medium-well steak). You hadn’t started on the win yet, though, and so she poured two glasses of a too-expensive red.

“So,” you smile just a little, a bit sadistic in how cute Fallon is when she’s annoyed. “How was work?”

Soon, both of you are full. It’s the nice kind of full that has you sleepy, content, almost drunk (that could also be the few glasses of wine you’d consumed as Fallon ranted about having to fire another assistant and HR fucking up payroll again). Her hand rests on your thigh, under the blanket but over your sweatpants. Some cheesy TV show the both of you had watched several times over plays lowly in the background, but all you can think about is the feeling of her thumb rubbing back and forth.

Fallon never seems to notice the little things she does—now, the thumb; other times, the way she buys you lunch when you don’t text her during your mandatory lunch break. The way she offers trip ideas when you haven’t taken PTO in a while. How she cares for you in her own specific way, even if that way is hidden behind eight layers of obfuscation.

“What are you thinking about?” her words cut through your high-speed train of thought easily as a knife through room-temperature butter.

“Spreadsheets,” you answer.

She snorts. “I’ve been able to tell when you’re lying since before grad school.”

You snort. “Nothing worth talking about.”

Fallon rolls her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “Whatever.” A beat. She looks you up and down, in that slow, predatory way lions scan injured zebras. “You want to go to bed?”

Both of you are creatures of habit, and so this is always how it starts. It’s a dance, a wonderful ballet, that begins with the same opening number. A disrobing behind closed doors, changing into comfy clothes and taking off jewelry. Your bed, perfectly made as always, makes itself a stage as you displace well-loved Squishmallows while Fallon scoffs about how childish they are. She tucks herself into your chest, using your forearm as a pillow, while you read on your tablet and she rubs those small circles on your tummy. You stay like that, pressed against each other, until she decides to shift herself upwards, so her breath fans across your neck. You’ll pretend to ignore her, until she nuzzles her nose just under your ear, leaving a little kiss on your neck.

Then you smile, not looking at her. She likes this dance, even if she won’t admit it. “You want something?”

Fallon hmms, her hand moving higher and higher until she’s tracing just under your breasts. “Maybe.”

That’s another thing about Fallon—she likes it when you make the first move for her. “Hmm,” you pretend to consider your options. It is then, silently, that you go in for the kill, placing your tablet to the side before shifting down to kiss her ever so lightly. Her lips are soft, always soft from her oils and scrubs and constant attention to her appearance. “This what you want?”

She furrows her brow, an adorable shade of frustration washing over her face. She’s a slow and careful predator, until something she wants is just within reach. What comes next is not a surprise, but certainly isn’t unwelcome—she climbs atop of you, abandoning any sort of subtlety as she tangles her fingers with yours and kisses you with her pillowy lips.

You know there won’t be much talking after this—moaning and begging and teasing, sure, but certainly no talking. It’s easy to follow the choreography you two had performed so many times before, dancers in each other’s arms as clothes come off and skin becomes bruised from teeth and hands. It’ll all be hidden tomorrow, but for now, both of you remain bare to the other in every way that matters.

Being with Fallon is easy in the best way; the way pleasure washes over you as she presses her fingers into you as easy as rain hits ones skin if they find themselves trapped in a thunderstorm. The only choice you have to make is to be present, to feel your fingers tangle into sheets and in her hair. To feel her tongue press against the most sensitive part of you and hum as you gasp your ever-approaching climax.

It’s a similar kind of easy to push her onto her back, to mount her while she grips your hips.

“You’re gorgeous,” she says, breathy and barely above a whisper. “Literally so gorgeous.”

All you can do is fuck yourself up and down the toy and let the heat from your abdomen travel up to your chest and cheeks. This¸ you think, as she rubs her thumb over your clit. This, is where you belong.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

🌎 CULTURAL DIFFERENCES 🌍

Prompt: Y/N and Baron decide to take a big step in their relationship and moving in together. Everything seems to go pretty smoothly for them, until they bump into some little (and sometimes fun) cultural differences.

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Baron Corbin x Reader

Warnings: Apart from some cultural beliefs and cursing, nothing really.

Notes: I wanted to go smooth with my first fic with this giant teddy bear as a character. This little story is all based on my own country cultural beliefs. I’ve heard all of this ever since I was a little girl ok? None of this was made up! It’s written in both Y/N’s and Baron’s POV. Each scene is isolated, they do not complete each other. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Y/N, can you please explain to me why in the hell do you need all of this?” He lifts up my perfectly organized (and not so small) jewelry box

“Babe, please put that down. You’ll take all of my stuff out of order” I say as I’m finishing doing my hair

He places the box down and start to dig through the drawers.

“Jesus, babe! Did you robbed a bank to buy all of these?” He’s incredibly amused by the amount of different shapes and sizes pieces.

“Don’t let your eyes fool ya, Corbin” I laugh “Only the ones on the first drawer to the left are real”

He takes a silver thick chain with small discreet rhinestones on it and stares at the piece of jewelry.

“Oh, those are nice” I say “You can borrow ‘em if you’d like”

He looks at me “I would prefer to borrow these instead” He lifted up a golden bracelet with colorful rhinestones shaped as butterflies “What do you think? Should I wear these to work? Do you think they’ll match my outfit?” He playfully places the bracelet on top of his t-shirt, obviously mocking me, since I do the same thing when I ask his opinion.

“Shut up Corbin!” I laughed

“Why do you need so much bracelets, earrings, hoops, necklaces and rings?” He says

I look at him defiantly “Why do you need so many watches, cigars, vintage lighters and expensive cars?” I crook one eyebrow at him

“Touché, princess. My excuse is because I can, yours?” He playfully smirks

“Because that’s who I am! I grew up surrounded by women full of jewelry, lipstick and these” I show him my long nails as I stick my tongue out just like a child would

“I like those” He pointed at my nails “They feel real good when you pair them up with sweet moans begging me to go harder” He gives me one of his cocky smirks

“You’re so full of yourself” I defeatedly say

.....................…..............................................

“Hey baby girl, what you’re up to? WOW something smells really good in here”

“Oh hi” I look at Baron as he entered the kitchen “Thanks! I’m making dinner” I smile

“Oh yeah?!” He lifts a lid from one of the saucepans “What you’re cooking?”

“Nothing crazy, just a simple regular dinner. White rice, beans, some meat with potato and carrots, broccoli and cauliflower for salad. Plus milk pudding for desert, the same one my grandma always made”

“And that’s your idea of ‘simple dinner’?” He asks amused

“It is simple”

“When you said simple I thought you‘ve meant, meat and some bread or something like that” He vaguely said

“That’s like a snack, not proper dinner Baron”.

“It’s pretty common to have that for dinner you know”

I look at him in disbelief “If I ever suggested that as a dinner option back in my family’s house I would’ve been told to shut up and eat my goddamn vegetables! A proper meal isn’t a proper meal if it doesn’t have rice and beans.”

He laughs “Do you need me to get the beans for you?”

“Do you have it?” I gasp in shock

“Of course” He goes and opens one of the upper kitchen cabinets taking out a can of beans “Here” He hand it to me

My eyes widened “Please don’t tell me you eat this crap!” As I shake the can in front of his face

“What’s wrong with it?” He asks offended

“Everything Baron! If it comes in a can is not good for you! I’m talking about cooking dried beans, real beans. Not this pathetic excuse for a bean”.

“They taste the same Y/N”

“Have you ever eaten freshly cooked beans?” I ask defiantly

“No, but-“

“Then you have no right of opinion on this debate!” I huffed and he rolled his eyes

......................................................................

“What in the actual fuck?” I say as I got up from the bed.

I followed the very loud music coming from downstairs in the living room to find Y/N in some skimpy clothes, barefoot with her hair up in a bun singing and dancing to whatever rhythm that was. I go to the radio and turn the music down. Making her look behind.

“Oh you’re awake” She smiles fondly

“How could I not be with this deafening loud music? What are you doing?”

“It’s Saturday babe” She says as if that was supposed to mean something

“Yeah I know! It’s also fucking 8 a.m. and my day off! I would like to still be asleep!” I say angrily

“But it’s Saturday” She says again

“And what’s that suppose to mean Y/N?”

“Saturday is the official house cleaning day, love” She speaks slowly as if she was talking to a child “Would you like to take the bedrooms and bathrooms or the living and dining room plus the kitchen?” She smiled

“Are you fucking kidding me Y/N? I would like to sleep! Sleep until fucking noon damn it! Official house cleaning day my ass” I scream as I make my way back to the bedroom slamming the door.

......................................................................

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING BARON?” She yelled

“Jesus fuck, you scared me! I’m cleaning as you can see” I say as I grab another piece of paper towel to clean the oven

“With paper towels?! Do you plan to bankrupt us and kill the environment too?”

“And what am I supposed to use to clean it?” I ask impatiently

She reaches one of the lower drawers and take a piece of one of her old shirts from it and hand it to me.

I just stare at her confused. She sighs before saying

“You use this to clean it, after you’re done you’ll wash it, put down to dry and once is dried you’ll store it back in the drawer again for future cleaning uses! That’ll save money and prevent more trees to get killed so you can clean your oven! Do I have to teach you everything babe?” She throws her hands in the air “Unbelievable” As she lefts me with a puzzled look on my face.

......................................................................

“Baron love, have you seen my purse?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve put it in there” He points to his side of the bed as he continues with his eyes glued to his video game.

“Ok, than- Baron!” I run towards my purse, snatching it quickly from the floor “Why did you put my purse on the floor?”

“Baby, where was I suppose to put it?”

“Not on the floor! I would like to keep my money you know?!” I huffed

“And what does your purse being on the floor has to do with you keeping your money?”

“EVERYTHING! You should know that placing your purse or wallet on the floor makes your money vanish”

“WHAT? Y/N, I’m sorry but that makes zero sense princess!”

“Shut up Corbin, you know nothing!”

......................................................................

“Baron, can you get the broom for me please?” I ask as he passed by me

“Yeah, sure”

He comes back with the broom on his hand “Here, I’ll help you” As he swiped the floor

“Thank you, my love”

A few minutes after I felt the biggest fear of my life becoming true

“Oh, sorry kitten...Are you ok?”

“Baron” I whisper “Please tell me that I’m getting delusional and you didn’t swipe my feet just now”

“Yeah I did, but-“ I raised my hand for him to stop talking

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks

“Yes you did. In fact, I’m never gonna get married now thanks to you!”

“What?” He chuckled “Please don’t tell me that this is one more of your crazy superstitions?” He’s full on laughing now

“Stop laughing dumb ass! It’s not funny and you should respect those things you know?!” I say annoyed

“Whatever you say babe” He dries his tears of laughter

......................................................................

“For God’s sake what is this awful smell?” I ask to myself as I entered the living room door “Y/N?”

She didn’t answer me. I decided to go on a hunt for my own woman inside my house, when I heard some mumbling

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Shhhh Baron, don’t interrupt me!”

“What on earth is this cursed smell?” I ask ignoring her

“It’s sage and some herbs” She whispers

“I’ve had a bad dream, so this will keep all of the bad juju out of here!” She says

“You know that will-“ As soon as I was about to remind her of the smoke alarm the little prick showed himself

“Oh fuck! I forgot about that, damn it! Shut up you evil little thing!” She says as she steps on the couch and wave her hands at it “Baron! Don’t just stand there, do something boy! Go get me a piece of cloth of something like that!” As she frantically waves her hands to prevent the smoke from going to the alarm

......................................................................

“Good morning kitten” I lean down to peck her lips

“Good morning handsome” She smiles “Coffee?”

“Yes, please”

She fills one mug with black coffee and give it to me

“Thanks baby” I take a gulp “You know, I’ve had this crazy dream last night”

“Oh yeah? About what, love?”

“There was this monkey and a deer. I was chasing them or something, I don’t know it was just so weird” I look at Y/N to find her typing ferociously on her phone

“Is everything ok, kitten?”

“Sure babe! I’m just texting my sister to mark me some numbers at the loteria”

“Why?”

“Because of your dream Baron! The monkey and the deer. They have a number at the loteria so who knows? Maybe we’ll gain some money at it to save it up?”

“But we don’t need money” I look at her almost laughing

“Still” She raises her eyebrows

......................................................................

“Yeah?” I scream

*Is she really gonna make me go down there?* I sighed

“Yeah baby girl?” I ask as I open the door

“What?” She asks confused

“What do you want babe? You were calling me” I say

“No I wasn’t!”

“Yes you were Y/N, I was in the bedroom unpacking and I heard you clearly call for me two times”

“Baron, I swear on my mother’s life I did not called for you” She whispers, all the blood drained out from her face

“Oh, then I guess I misheard it”

“When you heard someone call for you, did you answered out loud?” She asks with fear in her eyes

“Well yeah! I thought you were the one who was calling me in the first place!”

She stood up from her office chair grabbing a small glass bottle with some water in it. She toss some of the water on her then on me

“What the fuck babe? What’s that?” I ask slightly angry

“Holy water! You heard something call for you with my voice, and you answered! Babe that is a bad omen, that means something evil is walking around here...Oh my God” She gasps in shock “Xander! We gotta bless him with some holy water too, we gotta protect him Baron! Oh no my poor baby Xander” She runs through the the hallway screaming for Xander.

Soon after she returns with Xander by her side. “He’s good now, thank God!” She reaches for her desk’s drawer again and grabbed a spray bottle “C’mon Baron, we’ve got to spray holy water in all of the doors and windows so it will scare away whatever that thing that called for you was” She lives her office again with the spray bottle in hand and a faithful Xander by her side.

God, why on earth did I decided to move in with that woman? She drives me crazy! But I would be lying if I said she wasn’t fun...

[wannawritefast]

Whiplash: Ch. 2- The Proposition

A/N: Thanks for the lovely words of encouragement, you guys! I’m so glad you like it! This is a REALLY long fic that I am nowhere near finished with yet. But I finish classes this week so I should be able to bang the rest of it out.

Pt. 1

Pairing: Gwilym Lee!Brian May x Reader

Warnings: None... mild language, mentions of Stupid Men

You were running out of time. To be fair, you were far too busy to even pay any mind to the challenge you made with your brother, despite him reminding you every time you called home. Maybe you figured that if you didn’t think about it, it would just go away.

Even though Brian didn’t primarily practice astrophysics, you still took time to stay close friends and support him at his gigs when you could. The two of you got lunch on a regular basis. He was easily one of the people that knew you best in the whole world. Not to mention, Brian had pulled you away from projects more than a few times when you were dangerously close to a mental and emotional breakdown; all these years later, he was still your best friend.

“Brian,” you said, blowing on a spoonful of your soup. What James had said got to you more than you cared to admit. You shouldn’t have let it bug you so much but it did. And you had to know, “do you think I’m a pathetic stick in the mud?”

Brian coughed on his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Of course not! Why would you say something like that?” His hazel eyes twinkled.

You shrugged brushing it aside, trying to dismiss how much your brother’s criticisms had bothered you during that fateful dinner. “I don’t know…” You couldn't seem to look up at him. “It was just something James said-”

Brian put his hand up and rolled his eyes at the mention of your sibling. “I’m going to stop you right there.” It wasn’t the first time you had brought up an insecurity planted by your brother with him. “Why do you still listen to that prick?” Brian questioned. “He’s still living with your parents, yeah?”

“Just moved from his bedroom to the basement actually last week.” You explained.

“Ah… moving on up. Or rather down.” Brian joked. You laughed. “I’m serious though. James has no right to criticize you. And I don’t understand why he would. You’re successful! He should be proud. I know I am.”

Your heart swelled and you flushed a little at his words. You tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “I suppose he just isn’t very fond of me most times,” you laughed humorlessly.

“Well, I suppose he’s also fairly daft too.” You laughed for real this time. Brian joined in on the laughter. He pointed his fork angrily. “Seriously, his abuse has gone on long enough. Don’t listen to him.” You gave him a small grateful smile. “If it eases your mind, think of it this way: if I thought you were a stick in the mud, do you think I’d be friends with you?”

“Well… no,” you answered. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Would my dashing good looks not win you over enough, May?”

“You’ve got me there. Those eyes are trouble.” You suppressed the blush forming on your face and continued eating your lunch.

There was a comfortable silence that settled between the two of you for a few moments. “I cut you off there. Was there anything else he said?” Brian asked out of the blue.

“Well… not exactly,” You replied.

“How do you mean?” He lowered his utensil in suspicion. You swore he had a sixth sense for this kind of stuff.

“I may or may not have gotten myself into a stupid wager with him.”

He tilted his head ever so slightly like he knew it was going to bad. God, he was scary. Brian took a quick bite of his salad, before setting it down again, “What kind of wager?”

You were going to be sick. The more you thought about it the stupider it sounded. You took a deep breath and twisted the spoon in your fingers. You had literally been losing sleep over the stupid bet you made with James. He would never let you live it down if you didn’t follow through with your end and you were too bloody tired of him and his digs.

“It’s… uh. It’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s stupid.”

“It doesn’t seem very stupid to you,” Brian defended. “You actually look like you’re going to pass out.” He sat up a little straighter. “Are you okay?”

“I…” The frustration that plagued you earlier reappeared and was joined by serious fatigue from work and stress from the challenge. “It’s kind of embarrassing actually.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen you get basic math incorrect and you’ve been utterly mental after drinks on multiple occasions. It can’t be worse than anything I have seen already.”

You took a deep breath. “Basically my dad, brother, and grandfather were having a go at me for not being in a relationship and then Donna chimed in saying I’m in a relationship when I’m not because James took a comment too far and now my family thinks I have a boyfriend and I have to bring a fake one home for Christmas to prove James wrong and not be an utter disappointment to them for once and I can’t find anyone to date me for real so how could I possibly find one person who would pretend to?

“That sounded even more insane coming out of my mouth.” Brian looked at you with a blank expression for a moment, attempting to process what you had just word vomited. You awkwardly ate another spoonful and laughed through it. You had no idea what in the bloody hell you were going to do.

“So you have to find someone to fake date you for the holidays while you visit your family so they’ll be off your arse?” Brian asked. His fork sat limply in his hand.

“Precisely, yeah,” you answered.

And then it clicked. There it was. Your opportunity. By what divine intervention it was opened was beyond you. You quite literally stared it down in its hazel eyes. You couldn't ask that of Brian… could you?

“On a semi-related note-” you set down your spoon and steepled your fingers contemplatively “-what are your plans for the holidays?”

Brian visibly gulped. “I know what you’re going to ask me.”

“And?” You raised your eyebrows hopefully. Please say yes… 

“Really? Why on earth would you choose me?” Brian countered. “I’m, and I’ve said this before, a bloody idiot.”

“Because I know you and you know me and it would be so easy,” you answered. Why you hadn’t thought of Brian before was beyond you…

“I’m telling you, Y/n. You could do so much better than this buffoon.” Brian took a drink of water but sustained eye contact. “You need someone proper. Like a lawyer or something.”

“Bri, I want you!” you defended. Brian’s expression changed to startled. It was true… to an extent. Oh, goodness. You cleared your throat. “Besides… who’s to say you’re not proper. You’ve studied astrophysics. AND if you’re so worried about being proper, I don’t need someone proper. I just need someone who can pass as a significant other for two weeks and you’re perfect.”

“But I’m in a bloody rock band. I’ll disappoint them. I’m not really the type to bring home to mum and dad,” his voice was oddly brittle.

“Brian, of course you are,” you scolded. “You’re charming. They’ll love you.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Yes, they will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you!” You set down your utensils. “And why aren’t you taking your own advice?”

He furrowed his brows. “What advice?”

“Remember when I had that mental breakdown at university when working on one of my first deadlines for my thesis?” You looked down at your lap sheepishly.

Brian shook his head and let out an amused quick chuckle before meeting your eyes. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Do you remember what you told me?”

Brian hummed to himself attempting to recollect his interaction. “‘It’s late. You’re gonna go bonkers doing all that work.’”

“No… Yes, but not that.”

“‘Brian May looks like an anthropomorphic poodle.’”

“True but no. Do you usually talk in the third person?”

“Brian does not wish to comment.”

“Bri,” you resisted the urge to laugh, “do you remember?”

He let out a huff. “‘Fuck them.’”

“And?”

“And… ‘don’t worry about what you think they’ll think.’”

“And if you’re worried about what they’ll think truthfully,” you reasoned, “why aren’t you taking your own advice?”

“Because!... Because it’s different this time!”

You crossed your arms and sat back. “And why is that?”

“Because you’re right, dammit,” he laughed and you joined in. “I hate when you’re right.”

“I don’t,” you quipped.

“Yeah, I know.”

You suddenly felt guilty. Like you were forcing Brian’s hand. Like you were pressuring him to help you. You took a deep breath and picked up your spoon once more. “Look, Brian. I don’t mean to push you. If you don't want to do it, you don’t have to. I understand. I’ll just get my ego in check and-”

“I’ll do it,” Brian answered.

“You’ll do it?” Your jaw dropped and your grip on your utensil faltered a little as well.

He nodded with a soft smile. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“My god, Brian, you’re brilliant! Why the sudden change of heart?” You stopped yourself as Brian opened his mouth to respond. “Wait! Don’t answer that. Thank you! Thank you!”

You stood up abruptly, not caring how crazy you looked. You were simply overcome with relief. You all but knocked Brian out of his chair with the hug you gave him. He warned you gently to be careful as you walked back to your seat.

“We’ll do Christmas at yours and I suppose New Year’s at mine, that is if you want to come,” Brian elaborated. “I’m sure my parents won’t mind me bringing a girl home.” He chuckled nervously.

“I have no words to thank you enough,” you urged. “Seriously. Thank you.” Your brother was going to eat his words and your dad was going to not scold you anymore and your grandfather was going to get off of your arse about great-grandchildren.

Brian shook his head. “Don’t thank me,” he brushed aside. “You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.”

[heyyouwiththeassbutt]

The Christmas Gift (Part 1)

Summary - Christmas with your super-soldier friends had become a tradition. Until one of them can't make it and everything changes, thanks to an early Christmas present. Part 1 of 2.

Pairing - Steve Roger x Reader

Warning - Major smut in future chapter and just a little bit in this chapter. Dubious consent (kinda sorta sex pollen??). Cursing. If I’ve missed anything, please let me know!

Word Count - 3,536

A/N - Part one of my two-part Christmas fic challenge. All mistakes are my own. Feedback is greatly needed and appreciated.

-----------

December 24th, 2019

10:21

"This had better be important." You huffed out, the grave tone of your voice more than a hint that you had been deep in sleep before your phone had begun to ring. The laugh on the other end of the phone had been far too bright and airy for this early in the morning. "Just calling to let you know I've landed, Doll. Grabbing a cab and should be there within half an hour." Steve's words bounced around your head for a few seconds before you sighed and pushed yourself into an upright position on your far too comfortable bed.  For the last four years, you had welcomed the famous Steve Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes into your home for Christmas. It had been an offhanded comment about how you spent Christmas by yourself since you couldn't get the time off work to travel home to your folks, but you were more than happy when you opened your front door that first Christmas Eve to see your two closest friends, arms filled with bags of Christmas food and gifts.  You were a lowly techie within the Stark tower, but after crossing paths with the boys only a few times, they'd taken you under their wings and your friendship with them became one of the most important things in your life. Throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of comfy shorts, you listened as Steve told you about their most recent mission, how he had worried it was going to last over the Christmas period, and how Sam had threatened to murder Bucky twice, just for being Bucky. "I'll talk to him when you get here, he needs to learn how to talk to Sam like a regular human." You laughed softly as you left your room and headed for the kitchen to throw on a pot of coffee.  Silence greeted you at the end of the line. "Stevie? Have I lost you?"  "No... I'm still here. Did Buck not tell you?"  "Tell me what?" "He's, ah, he's not coming this year." 

10:59 Steve was leaning against your kitchen counter, sipping on a cup of coffee as you angrily paced back and forth. It wasn't even that he wasn't coming that had bothered you, it was that he hadn't even told you. "It's just downright rude. I bought a turkey! And that bread sauce he likes!" You groaned out, sitting at the kitchen island, a pout on your lips.  Steve nodded, a small smile on his face as he looked up from his coffee cup, "If it makes you feel better, I like bread sauce too."  You rolled your eyes, but a smile settled on your face. At least Steve was still there. You'd make sure to text Bucky your annoyance later, but for now, you focused on the fact your friend was here for the first time in months.  Things had been crazy for a long time, between Steve and Buckys missions and the new project Tony had you working on, you'd missed far too many of your usual catch-up coffees and late-night movie marathons with your friends. It was almost a sense of relief that flooded you at having your friend back. You hopped down from the chair and walked over to him, a grin on your face, "What ya get me for Christmas?"  Steves smile faded and he shook his head, pointing a finger at you accusingly, "No. You do this every year, I'm keeping it a secret until tomorrow."  Your pout returned as you wrapped your arms around his waist, his large hand resting on your hip and your chin resting on his chest, looking up at him through your lashes, "Please Stevie? You know I hate waiting..."  There was a long pause where neither of you spoke, just looking at each other. Steve stood still, one hand clutching the coffee cup, the other frozen on your hip. You peered up at him questioningly before he seemed to pull himself out of whatever he had been thinking of and cleared his throat, removing his hand from you and setting down the coffee cup. He moved out of your reach as he muttered that he needed the bathroom, vanishing down the hallway. You stared after him. That was new. 

14:33 Elf was playing on the TV as you and Steve relaxed on the couch, him laying halfway across it as you lay with your legs across his.  This morning's weirdness had faded, but it still stuck in your mind. You had always been affectionate with the boys, and them you. It wouldn't have been unusual to find the three of you cuddling in your bed after they failed to get you out of bed on one of their visits, you pulling them down onto the comfy mattress until you all found yourselves drifting back to sleep.  It had become normal for you to hug each other for extended periods after a long, stressful day when you just needed the touch of another person.  Steves odd behavior this morning had confused you. It probably didn't seem that strange to anyone else, but you couldn't get past the knowledge that if you'd done the same thing when Bucky was there, Steve would have probably grabbed you into a hug, trapping your arms as Bucky snuck up behind you, tickling you until you were squealing and relenting that your gift could stay a surprise.  You had missed most of the movie as your brain worked a mile a minute. Maybe Bucky was the reason it had been weird. Steve was a gentleman. It was possible he didn't think it right to be showing you that effection when the two of you were alone. Come to think of it, you couldn't really remember a time when you and Steve had spent much time together alone.  A small squeeze on your ankle brought you back to the present, your gaze shot to Steve as you blinked slowly.  He was watching you with a smile on his face, "I asked if you wanted lunch, Doll." You hadn't realized how hungry you were until he said it, having only had a slice of buttered toast this morning.  "Food sounds good, I have lasagne in the fridge, made it special." You grinned as you swung your legs off the couch and made your way to the kitchen. Steve paused the movie and followed you, him lifting plates out of the cupboard as you switched on the oven to reheat the food.  You fell into your familiar pattern, talking about nothing in particular as you grated extra cheese for the top of the lasagna and Steve started on the salad. By the time the oven had pre-heated and the dish was in, you were in the middle of a light-hearted debate about why Bucky had canceled on your Christmas tradition. It reminded you that you still hadn't texted him and you grabbed your phone from where you had abandoned it on the kitchen counter earlier. You lent over the counter, your elbows braced on it as you began to type a seething text message. You were vaguely aware that Steve stood behind you, reading over your shoulder as you crafted your message. Hello Bucky, if that even is your real name. I don't feel that I even know you anymore. Not only did you not let me know you wouldn't be coming this year, but you also didn't tell Stevie that you hadn't told me. I'm not mad, Bucky. I'm just disappointed. P.S. Steve is utterly devastated to be without you, and has a notion that you have in fact canceled as you are so in love with him that you cannot stand to be with him another holiday without letting your true feelings be known, but it is fine, as we all know you wanna fuc- Steve grabbed the phone from your hands as you dissolved into giggles. He held you tight by the waist as he began to delete the message, you struggling in his arms as you attempt to reach for the phone. "Don't delete it, please, it's my masterpiece! He needs to know, Stevie!" You were still laughing as you struggled against him, your back pressed tightly to his body as he held the phone out of your reach, a grin on his face.  He deleted the message and looked down at you, redness on your cheeks from your fit of laughter and the strain of attempting to free yourself from his grip. He froze again. You almost tumbled to the ground as he released you, turning to check on the lasagna and leaving you unsteady on your feet as you stared at his back. 

19:12 Your phone buzzed as you received a text. As per your tradition, you were mid-way through putting the last of the decorations on the tree. Your tree had been up from the 15th, but you had only put the lights on, leaving the decorations until you were all together.  "Could you see who that is?" You called over to Steve, who stood by the fireplace, fastening the golden tinsel to the mantel.  He lifted your phone from the table in front of him and laughed softly before he read it aloud, "Sorry to miss Christmas, babe, duty calls. Steve has a present from me in his bag, you can open it whenever you want. Love, Buck."  You rolled your eyes, then jumped up and rushed over to Steve, your eyes bright, "So I do get to find out what my present is?"  Steve shrugged as he headed towards the hallway where he'd left his things, "I didn't know he'd put anything in my bag."  "Some super-soldier you are." You joked as you followed after him.  After a few minutes of Steve looking through his bags, he pulls out a small, box. He hands it over to you and you smile smugly before the smile fades and you bite your lip. "What if its a trick and he's going to shout at me for opening it before Christmas?"  "I won't tell if you won't." Steve laughed, his eyes on the present, as curious as you are.  You shrug and pull open the lid, pausing as you look at the sachet inside, labeled in Buckys' handwriting, 'Super special hot chocolate for my super special best friends'. You laughed softly and showed Steve what was inside the box. He lifts it out, an eyebrow raised as he reads it. He lifts out a second sachet that you hadn't seen, this one filled with mini marshmallows. The three of you always had hot chocolate on Christmas Eve, but you did find it slightly odd that this was what he'd given you. Shaking off the strange feeling, you put the sachets in the kitchen, sending off a quick thank you message along with a few confused emojis to Bucky before you went back to decorating the tree.

22:35 Throwing the empty Chinese takeaway containers into the trash, you stretched your hands above your head, your back making a satisfying cracking noise after several hours of laying awkwardly on the couch watching movies with Steve. Your gaze fell on the sachets on the kitchen counter and you smiled softly.  "Wanna see if this hot chocolate is poisoned?" You called to Steve as you pulled the milk and whipped cream from the fridge.  He answered in an affirmative grunt which made you laugh. You were pretty sure your laziness was rubbing off on him. Three minutes later, you handed him his mug, adorned with whipped cream, marshmallows and a drizzle of chocolate sauce you'd remembered at the last second. He smiled up at you as he took it, settling his free hand on your lower leg as you once again stretched your legs across his.  Falling into a comfortable silence, you took a drink of the hot chocolate and went back to watching whatever movie Steve had put on.

23:07 You felt weird. It wasn't a bad feeling, just... strange.  Peering down at your empty mug, you couldn't stop a hint of worry from creeping into your mind.  The thought wouldn't leave you as you tried your hardest to focus on the movie. It only lasted a few minutes, before you couldn't stand it and leaned over to the coffee table and lifting your phone. Quickly tapping to call Bucky, you became aware of Steve's hand running gently up and down your bare leg.  "Opened your present yet?" Bucky's voice in your ear pulled you back from a sudden, wandering thought that had thrown your mind into overdrive.  Clearing your throat, you tried to keep your tone even, "Yeah, we just drank it... Thank you. So, um, what made it so 'Super Special'?"  Steve made eye contact with you as Bucky laughed. You knew from how close he was, Steve would have been able to hear him even without his super hearing. "Just a little something I picked up on a mission. Did you like it?" "It was nice. What kind of something?" The hand Steve was running up and down your leg was extremely distracting, so much so that you had to ask Bucky to repeat what he'd said. He laughed again and you could hear the smirk in his voice, "You'll find out soon enough, Babe. Happy Christmas."  Just like that, the line went dead and you found yourself staring at the darkened screen. You looked at Steve and shrugged, setting your phone back on the coffee table as you tried to put your attention back to the television. His hand was warm on your lower thigh as Steve turned his gaze back to the movie. You felt him shift slightly, straightening a little bit as his other hand came to one of your socked feet, gently massaging the sole of your foot. Steve had given you a foot rub before. It had been nice, relaxing. This time felt less relaxing and you felt your cheeks heat up as his thumb dragged gently across the skin of your thigh.  You stayed that way for a few minutes, almost stuck still as your eyes wandered to his hand. Trying to keep your breath even, you made eye contact with him.  His gaze was searing, the blue of his eyes almost hidden by the deep black of his pupils.  Within seconds, he had pulled you onto him, straddling his thick thighs as your breath caught in your throat. You wondered as he looked up at you if your pupils were as blown as his.  You didn't have much time to think about it as his hand went to the back of your neck, pulling you down into a searing kiss.  Body pressed tightly against his, your hands landed on his shoulders, pulling him somehow even closer. His hand on your neck gripped tighter as his other arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place.  The kiss deepened, your body alight as his tongue brushed across your lips, seeking permission. You weren't ashamed to say you moaned as you allowed him access, your tounges battling for dominance and if it didn't feel so good, you might have relented to him.  You ground yourself down on him, your body working of its own accord as he let out a hiss, breaking the kiss and dropping his head to pant across your throat, dropping kisses and sucking on the skin there as he did.  Small gasps left your lips as you continued to grind against him. He was hard and ready pressed against your core through his jeans and your shorts.  You whimpered as he pulled away from your neck, annoyance on your face as his hand on your waist gripped you harder, stilling your movements.  Guilt washed across his face as his forehead lent against yours, his eyes still blown black and his lips swollen from your kiss.  Leaning in to catch those full lips again, he made a noise deep in his throat as he kissed you back, softer than the first time. It was over too quickly as he pulled away,  "Stevie, please." You could hear the whine in your voice as you begged. You peppered kisses across his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, all while he stayed silent, his eyes closed tightly as he seemed to be having an internal battle with himself. His hand came up to your cheek, pushing you just far enough away that he could look into your eyes. "You don't want this, Doll. Bucky put something in the hot chocolate. You aren't... We aren't ourselves right now." The words wouldn't register in your brain. You didn't understand. Your gaze dropped to his chest as you bit your lip.  "Do you not want me, Steve?"  He growled again, low and frustrated, "You know I do. I want you so badly. But you aren't thinking straight."  "I am thinking straight, I want you," you argued, tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks as you were met with a furious wave of rejection, "I'll be so good for you, Steve, I promise." Steve's hand on your waist tightened as he threw his head back, looking to the ceiling and blowing out a long breath. You could tell he was fighting his want, and you used it to your advantage and you rolled your hips on him again.  All at once, you were lifted off of him and set on the sofa as Steve stood. Steve was pacing across the room, his hands running through his blonde hair as his t-shirt lifted just enough to catch a glimpse of the deep V of his stomach. Your mouth watered, even more so when you saw the pronounced bulge in his jeans.   Staying silent, you sat there, watching him, waiting for him to make up your mind, but there was a voice in your head telling you how much you needed him that was quickly taking over all other thought.  Stilling, Steve looked at you as he pulled his mobile from the back pocket of his jeans. You didn't need to see the screen to know who he was dialing as he lifted the phone to his ear. 

23:49 Steve had been out of the room for at least 10 minutes, and you were fighting the overwhelming desire to seek him out. 

You sat on the couch, your kneeling with your feet under you as you had been when he left, you hadn't moved an inch.

The ache between your legs was more than uncomfortable and you knew if he didn't come back soon there was a very real possibility that he'd come back to you with your fingers rubbing at your swollen clit. 

As your will power was starting to fade even more so, he marched into the room, his face unreadable as he stopped not even a foot in front of you. 

You longed to reach out and touch him but he held a hand out to stop you as if he could read your thoughts.

"I spoke to Bucky." You nod in understanding, focused on the curve of his plush lips.

"He said that it's temporary, it'll be gone by morning." He continued. "What does it do?" Your voice shook slightly as Steve stood above you. So close, but you knew if you reached out he wouldn't let you touch him. An exasperated sigh left him as he ran his hand through his hair, "It doesn't matter. He's not even 100% certain." 

Tilting your head, you read the lie on his face. You'd gotten good at telling when Steve was lying, having learned his tell after many evenings of Poker with your boys.  He looked down at you and knew he was caught, your eyebrow raised as you said nothing, but continued to stare him down.  "He said... It was a desire thing. Unlocks... something or allows something. It was hard to focus on what he was saying."  Looking at the bulge still prominent in his jeans in front of you, you fought the urge to smirk. Yeah, you were sure it was hard.  "Is that enough proof?" You said slowly, now pulling yourself up to stand in the small space in front of him. He made no attempt to move back and for the first time, you thought about how he must be feeling the same way that you did. But he had stopped it. What a gentleman.  "Proof?" He swallowed. "If it... unlocks or allows... something... It has to be something you feel already, right? Is that not enough proof I desire you, Stevie?"  The resolve on his face was slowly dissolving as he looked down at you.  "I want you, Stevie. Please."  Just like that, his hands were on your ass as he lifted you into his arms, your arms and legs wrapping around him as you crashed your lips to each others.  You were vaguely aware Steve was walking, the two of you somewhere, but you honestly didn't care where so long as his lips stayed on yours.

[greekowl87]

Angst 5 and/or 10 I’m craving some angst

“I can't believe you did this, how could you?” / “This, us, was a fucking mistake and I should have known the second things went further than planned.”

A/N: I love me some good, old-fashioned angsts. Diana fueled angsts are my bread and butter so I thought I would try my hand at it. Again. So set around ‘Two Sons.’ I suck at smut so sorry if it sounds dumb :( And I apologize for it sound rushed. No beta. I just wanted to get this idea out while it was in my head. @today-in-fic @suitablyaggrieved @improlificinsarcasm @baronessblixen

On the bottom of the world in winter sunlight, Mulder gambled and won the thousand to one odds. He had found Scully in the maze of an alien ship, given her the vaccine, and somehow, they still escaped with their lives. Except, when they arrived back in D.C., they still didn’t have their old office back. The events in Dallas resulted in them being relegated to the bullpen where they were stuck doing background checks.

Mulder was certain, that despite the dire situation, Scully would have been transferred to Quantico either by the higher-ups or of her own accord. But each day he dragged himself to the office, she was sitting right behind him in the bullpen performing endless background checks. And things remained glacial between them; cold and frigid and unlikely to change anytime soon.

But he sensed it; they both did. They wanted to change. Whatever was left unspoken in the hallway of his Alexandria apartment before that blasted bee ruined everything hung in the air between them. You don’t go around professing that the person is their one and five billion without meaning it. But the tension between was palpable.

This Monday was no different.

Scully was already at her desk that morning when Mulder came in. He smiled and offered her a paper bag proudly. “What is that?” She arched her eyebrow. “A peace offering?”

“Breakfast. I stopped by the bakery you like so much in Old Town and picked it up on my way in.”

She took it cautiously. “What do you want?”

“What makes you say that?”

“No catch.” 

She took the offered pastry wearily. “Thank you, Mulder.”

“I actually wanted to see if you wanted to come over tonight,” he said slowly.

“Why?”

Mulder sat in his chair and choose his next words carefully. “No reason. Maybe watch a movie, enjoy a six-pack of Shiner Bock…discuss what I told you in the hallway.” He looked down at his hands. “I want there to be an us,” he finished.

“Mulder, not here,” she whispered sharply. She averted her gaze to focus on her computer.

“Scully, come on. We both can’t dance around what happened.”

Mulder watched her body language as she sighed and barely nodded. “Tonight. Seven. I’ll be there.”

He recognized the need for her control; if she at least came to his place, she could also choose to escape back to her Georgetown apartment if she wanted. He would take it. “Sounds great. I could order takeout? Italian?”

“Just pizza, Mulder,” she whispered. “Pizza and beer.”

He smiled and turned his chair around. Victory.

*****

The morning progressed agonizingly. Neither Mulder nor Scully was able to break away from the phone and the endless background checks. By eleven Mulder wrote, ‘I’m going to get something from the vending machine. Want your usual?,’ on a post-it note. Scully nodded shortly and mouthed ‘Thank you.’ “No, ma’am. I would never insinuate that. It’s a regular question,” she said softly.

Mulder smiled. A trained medical doctor who could easily leave the FBI and pursue a career in medicine choose to stay and with him no less. She really was his one and five billion. He got up and padded his back pocket for his wallet. Scully slammed the phone down angrily. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t remember my own background checks being so nasty,” she told him. “The woman basically called me a bitch and hung up on me!”

“Well, forget about it. Do you want a Butterfinger instead of the M&Ms?”

“No. I get that stuck in my teeth. Milky Way?”

“You got it,” he laughed. “Be back.”

“Thank you, Mulder.”

He was truly blessed with her. As he made his way to the vending machine, debating what to get for himself, a soft voice called, “Fox!”

He stopped dead in his tracks. No one called him that except one: Diana. He turned and gave a feeble smile. “Hi, Diana.”

“What are doing down here?”

Mulder awkwardly gestured to the vending machine. “Grabbing something to eat for Scully and me. Doing those background checks is hard work.”

Something changed in her demeanor. Diana stood taller, straightening her back so that her chest (and breasts) jutted out slightly. Mulder took a step back automatically, unused to someone else sharing his space beside Scully. “Well, if you are free today, I was wondering if you wanted to catch up over your lunch break down in the cafeteria today?”

Mulder was quiet for a second briefly thinking about Scully. He wasn’t stupid; he knew there was some tension between his partner and ex-wife. But Diana could be trusted. She had been there at the beginning. He understood that. Scully’s suspicion was in the wrong place. “Um, give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you there.”

Diana smiled and squeezed his arm affectionately. “See you in fifteen.”

Mulder quickly got his wallet and bought Scully’s candy bar. He walked back to his desk and deposited the candy bar on her desk and grabbed his jacket. She arched an eyebrow in surprise and put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “Where are you going?”

“Ran into an old friend that is only here for a day. Gonna have lunch with them.” One little white lie couldn’t hurt. “I’ll be back at one. Don’t worry, we’re still on for tonight.”

“Mushrooms and green peppers?”

“And pineapple for me.”

She wrinkled her nose with a smile. “Have fun.”

God, Scully could torture him with her little quirks.

*****

Despite the Milky Way Mulder had gifted her at 11 that morning, by noon, Scully’s stomach was grumbling. She eyed the clock as the bigger hand hovered at 12:02. She was entitled to her lunch break and didn’t have to worry about it since she no longer worked out in the field. Scully typed a few quick things out before she grabbed her card and headed down to the Hoover’s employee cafeteria. 

Her stomach continued to grumble and turn as she took the elevator to the first floor. Scully decided against her yogurt and bee pollen and wondered what healthy options she had. She checked the menu and decided on a Cobb salad before she proceeded into the line to get her lunch. Her mind was fluttering around the meeting with Mulder that evening. Were they going to finish that conversation? Her blood rushed with excitement.

As Scully went through the motions to purchase her Cobb salad, she clenched her lunch tray when she saw Mulder laughing with Diana.

Diana.

Scully prided herself in not trying to cast judgment, blame her Catholic upbringing. But she couldn’t help it. It was something about Diana that crawled under her skin. Then she saw Mulder laughing, grasping her hand as she leaned against his shoulder laughing too. Then there was the hand holding. What did it for her was the chaste kiss on the cheek that Diana did and Mulder didn’t stop it. Her blood crawled, growing icey. Suddenly, Scully’s appetite was lost and she dumped the contents of her lost lunch in the trash can wastefully. Scully wondered if she was dumping her lunch or her baggage regarding her potential relationship with Mulder.

*****

Mulder smiled at Scully as he came back from lunch. “Hey, Scully,” he greeted.

“Mulder.”

It was the change in her tone that caught him off guard. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure?”

“Peachy, Mulder.” She looked up from her work. “I can’t make it tonight. My mom called. I’ll be in Bethesda tonight.”

Mulder did a double-take. “What about our plans?”

Scully didn’t look at him as she replied, “Maybe next time.”

Mulder sat down at his desk. What had gotten into her? “What about our plans?”

“I can’t tonight, Mulder. Maybe next time.”

Mulder frowned as she avoided him completely for the rest of the at.

*****

Scully’s apartment was her refuge. It was her domicile, her kingdom; it was all in her control. As soon as five o’clock hit, Scully quickly left and took the Metro back home to her apartment leaving a puzzled Mulder behind. As soon as she locked her door that evening, she dropped her briefcase by the door, kicked off her heels, and immediately went to their bedroom, changed into black leggings and an FBI gray sweatshirt and collapsed on her overstuffed couch and flipped it to HGTV. Let her be dissolved in fixing and flipping houses rather than fixing her relationship with Mulder.

*****

Mulder knew she took the Metro that day but instead of going straight home, he sat in his car, watching her apartment building before the light in her living room turned on. He downed a miniature he had gotten at a Virginia ABC store. Liquid courage. He took a deep breath, locked his car, and marched to her apartment door.

She pulled it open before he could knock.

“I saw your car,” she answered. She stood aside so he could enter. “What is it that you want?”

“I thought we had a date tonight.”

“We had no date,” she answered cooly.

Mulder scoffed accusingly. “I can’t believe you did this, how could you?”

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

She went to her fridge and dug out a bottle of white wine.

“So my mere presence drives you to drink?” He snapped.

“You’re being selfish. No. What I saw at lunch did it for me.”

Oh, Scully was ready to scorch and burn everything between them. “Lunch?”

“Diana.” She cast her typical questioning left eyebrow before pouring her own glass. “Want some?”

“Sure you won’t burn it?”

“Quit being an asshole.”

She pulled down a second glass and poured some wine into it as well. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

Mulder took the full glass wearily as sipped the pinot grigio. “You aren’t helping.”

“I’m mad.” She gestured between the glasses. “This doesn’t help but at this point, I’m sick of your shit and backtracking.”

“What the fuck, Scully,” he asked.

Mulder was still standing in the doorway with a glass of wine. He groaned and set it aside. He stormed toward her couch as she sat down and crossed her legs. Scully murmured, “What the fuck indeed.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She sighed and pinched her brow. “This, us, was a fucking mistake and I should have known the second things went further than planned.”

“What further things?”

“Beer? Talking? The hallway?”

“You aren’t making sense.”

Scully stared at him, narrowed her eyes and huffed. “You fucking kissed her, Mulder. Don’t give me bullshit lines that I’m your one and five billion when you’re off kissing other women.” She set down the glass of wine on the table with a thud. “If you want there to be an us, Mulder then come clean with me.” She stood up. Even without her heels, she was a giant. “I will fight for us but I won’t do it unless you’re all in too.”

Mulder eyed the glass of wine enticingly. “Diana is my ex-wife.”

“She’s your what?”

Fuck it. He downed the wine in one gulp. It numbed him briefly against Scully’s verbal assault.

“And you didn’t think that was important to mention?”

“Scully…”

She was on her feet now, pacing like a shark. “Don’t.   Mulder, I’m pissed. You’re dragging me along for months, pretending that I’m the only thing that matters and then boom, out to lunch with your ex.”

Mulder found himself floundering, stuck in the moment. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to be honest with me, Mulder. What happened to trust no one???”

“I trust you,” he defended.

“Trusted. Past tense,” she shouted. 

Mulder was stunned. “Scully…”

“There is no us!” She continued. “You know I don’t trust her. I don’t like her but go around strutting with her.”

“Scully, she’s my ex-wife. She was there when I got the x-files.”

“And I was just assigned.” She scoffed. “I get it, Mulder. Loud and clear. You can leave.”

“I’m not leaving, Scully.”

“Mulder, leave. Please.”

“I’m not.” In frustration, Mulder stormed across her living room and grabbed her. He tried to use all his expertise to put his feeling into his body language. A kiss. They were both breathless. “I’m not leaving, Scully. There’s you and you only.”

Scully was dumbstruck. The power of their kiss paralyzed her. “How can I believe you?”

What followed was a hurricane of clothes being removed and six years of tensions being resolved. On her overstuffed couch with all the lights on, in Georgetown, of all places, The tv was playing something that seemed irrelevant to what had just perspired. Mulder coiled around her bare body and pulled her afghan closer. “I got to admit.” He kissed the back of her ear soothingly. “Your couch might be more comfortable than mine.”

“Hmm…” she hummed.

From literally tearing out their throats to post-coitus, neither could complain. “You know, I meant what I said in that hallway, Scully.”

She turned to face him and gripped him tightly. He felt himself tighten with pleasure (or was it fear?). “Say it.”

“Diana is the past. We’re the future.”

“Again.”

“Diana is the past. We’re the future.”

After a moment, Scully released him. He nuzzled her hair. “Satisfied?”

“I will be once we go to bed. I hate sleeping on this couch.”

“Even with the company?”

“The bed is better with the company.”

“Where does this leave us?”

“To be determined?”

“Better than a no.”

For the moment, all anger was forgotten and they could move forward, even if for a moment into her bedroom. And of course, the pizza was forgotten.

[kasdeyathebitterwoman]

A Ninja Warrior Love Story - Part 4

Time for a little backstory on Lily! This time around, we get to meet Ray and Eleanor as well as learn a little more about Lily’s past. I hope you all enjoy this story! Let me know if you’d like to be included in the tag list for other chapters!

taglist:

@maeleeme

Word Count: 2,039

CW: confrontation; hard-conversations

For the first time in almost 2 years, Lily had nightmares about Carter. They started Friday night after Henry left and now, on Sunday morning, she woke with a start. Sweat beading on her forehead, her heart beating fast and loud in her chest. She sat up in bed, sucking air in as deeply as her lungs would allow. She pulled her knees up to her chest and sat like that for a while, ruminating and attempting to calm herself down. Carter was in New York, thousands of miles away from her.

A notification from her phone pulled her back to reality. She reached out for her phone, opening it to find a message from Henry.

Good morning, Lily :) Attached to the message was a picture of Kal dozing in Henry’s hotel room. Another message followed.

Will we see you at the gym this morning? Lily stared incredulously at the message. The image of Henry and Celeste making out in her bar was fresh in her mind. It brought a sudden wave of anger, frustration, insecurity, and annoyance to the surface. She huffed as she responded.

No, I’m busy. If you need any help, why don’t you just ask Celeste? She hit send and immediately regretted it. She was never the best at controlling her temper, but after her situation with Carter, that fuse shortened even more. Shaking her head, Lily dropped her phone on the bed and climbed out. She busied herself around the apartment, picking things up, setting them down, moving things around only to put them back as they were. She was aimlessly working because she didn’t want to look at her phone. She didn’t want to talk to Henry. He was a distraction, a mistake. A beautiful, handsome, mistake.

After a while, she decided to go shower before leaving for Ray and Eleanors. Every Sunday for the last few years, Lily went to Ray and Eleanor Burton’s for a late lunch/early dinner. This was their tradition and her way of paying respect to the people that took her in after college. They were there to help her pick up the pieces after her dad sold everything and disappeared. The two themselves were pillars of the community. Ray owned and operated the barbershop for as long as she could remember and Eleanor was a cafeteria lady in their school district for over 40-years. Lily wasn’t the only kid they helped though. Unfortunately, the two couldn’t have kids of their own, so they helped everyone else. They helped Lily, her best friend Mar, and several other kids over the years. Lily was the only one still in town, so she felt obligated to pay her respects.

Done with her shower, Lily dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans and started getting her things together to leave. She grabbed her phone from the bed and it buzzed, indicating a new message. She checked and was unsurprised to see it was from Henry. She decided to ignore it and instead, make a call to her uncle Travis. Travis was her mom’s brother. He was helping Lily and her dad pay for the rehab hospital her dad was currently in. Lily dialed his number. The phone rang three times before going to voice mail. She sighed as she waited for the beep.

“Uh, hey Uncle Travis, it’s me. Lily. I hope you’re doing well. I just wanted to let you know I was going to see my dad next week, so I’ll have an update for you. If you want, I can text it since you always seem to be busy. Anyway, I hope you, Margot, and the kids are doing okay. Bye.” She hung up the phone and somehow felt worse than she did before. Burying the pain, she tossed her phone in her bag and marching out to her truck.

On the way to the other house, Lily argued with herself, going back and forth as to why Henry was bad news. She huffed and puffed as she came up with fake arguments and more. Even still, by the time she had pulled up to Ray and Eleanors, she couldn’t resist. She pulled her phone out of her bag to see if Henry had responded. He had.

Oh, okay…Lily have I done something to upset you? Once again, she stared incredulously at her phone. Would did he think he was? Lily snapped her jaw shut and angrily typed out a response.

You think, Henry? I watched you make out and then leave with Celeste the other night. Do what you want, but don’t lead me on in the process. With a final huff, Lily turned her phone on silent, tossed it in her bag, and went straight into the house. The smell of chicken fried steak immediately hit her and calmed her down. Eleanor almost always cooked the same thing each week and Lily didn’t mind at all. The sound of her footsteps must have been loud enough, because Ray’s head popped out from around the corner of the kitchen. A wide grin stretched across his face.

“Hey kid,” he said, joy evident in his voice. The rest of him walked around the corner and toward Lily, embracing her in a bear hug. She breathed in his typical smell of mint and musk. She smiled.

“Hey Ray,” she replied into his chest. He leaned back and pushed her away from him gently so he could look at her.

“You look good kid,” he said. Lily smiled. He always said this every time he saw her. The two walked to the kitchen together where Eleanor was working away making food. “Ellie, Lily is here,” Ray said. Lily could hear the pride in his voice. It brought a pain to her chest that she couldn’t identify. Ellie turned around and smiled brightly at the sight of Lily.

“Oh, Lily you’re here!” she exclaimed. She moved Lily quickly and embraced her in a tight hug. Eleanor was a beautiful woman of 60 with a head of white-blonde hair, hooded brown eyes, and rosy cheeks even at this age. She had a smile that made Lily ache and feel comforted at the same time. Lily hugged Eleanor back.

“Can I help with anything Ellie?” Lily asked. Eleanor bobbed her head.

“You sure can. You can get started on the salad, dear,” Eleanor gestured to the pile of salad fixings on the counter and Lily got started. Everyone worked in silence before Ray finally finished what he was doing and left to go watch the television while he waited for the girls to finish. It was during this time that Eleanor took her opportunity to quietly ask Lily about her dad and her uncle.

“So Lily, how’s your dad?” she asked. Lily grimaced and didn’t look up from what she was doing.

“He’s fine, I think,” Lily responded. “I’m going to see him next week.” Eleanor’s head bobbed.

“Good, good,” she said. The steaks sizzled in the pans and Lily focused on that instead of what she wanted to say. “And your Uncle Travis?” she asked. Lily took in a deep breath.

“I called him today, but he didn’t pick up. I’ll call him again after I go see my dad,” she said. Eleanor didn’t say anything and Lily snuck a glance in her direction. She could see the distress all of this caused her and it broke Lily’s heart. It wasn’t her burden to bear and yet she still carried it as if it were. Taking her own deep breath, Lily watched as Eleanor steadied herself for her next response.

“Well, we’ll just see how things go, won’t we?” she replied. Lily smiled lightly, unsure of how to respond. They worked again in silence until it was time to eat. Everyone piled around the Burton’s kitchen table and dug into the meal in front of them. Once everyone had a plate full of food and had eaten some did Eleanor start questioning Lily again.

“So Lily, how are things at the gym?” she asked. Lily smiled, appreciative that Eleanor supported her though she didn’t fully understand what it was she did.

“Things are good. I’m actually helping Donovan train some actors for a movie,” Lily replied. Eleanor smiled wide.

“Well that sounds exciting!” she exclaimed, taking a bite of her own chicken fried steak. Lily smiled warmly at her.

“Are you still working at that bar?” Ray asked between bites. Lily was hoping to avoid that question.

“Yes, I am,” she said, not looking him in the eye. He gruffed and Eleanor sighed.

“I don’t like the idea of you working in that bar,” she said.

“I know, but Loraine needs the help and I need the extra income,” Lily replied.

“You could have asked us,” Ray said, the pain not hidden from his voice at all. Lily’s shoulders sagged a little.

“I’m saving up the money so I can go see Mar,” Lily tried to explain. “I wouldn’t ask you to pay for something that you can’t enjoy as well.” Lily watched as Ray processed this information. When he was seemingly satisfied with her answer, he went back to eating. Everyone finished their plates and Lily got up to start cleaning up. She cleaned all the dishes. While she did that, Eleanor packed up several Tupperware containers for her to take back home. Ray watched closely.

“Ellie, save some for me at least!” he exclaimed as she worked. Ellie constantly shushed him and did what she wanted. Lily smiled to herself listening to the exchange. She loved the easy banter the two had. When they were done, they waved Lily off as she drove back to her tiny apartment.

Back home, Lily stuffed her food into her fridge, planning out what to eat over the next few days. She grabbed an armful of laundry and got started on that before settling down to start her guiltiest of guilty pleasures The Masked Singer. It was right as she was getting comfortable when she remembered her phone and Henry. Quickly, she grabbed her phone to find a missed call and two missed messages from him. A little surprised, Lily read the messages first.

Are you available to talk? Can I call you?

You’re not available or you’re avoiding me. Either way, it’s justified, I suppose. Please call me back.

Lily sighed and clicked on the voicemail. Henry’s English accent filled your ear and made your heartache.

“Lily, please call me back. We need to talk about what has happened. You likely won’t believe me but,” he paused. “I wasn’t, I’m not trying to lead you on. Please call me back.” Lily slumped back into her couch as she thought about everything he had said. He was right, she didn’t believe him. She had learned to never trust only someone’s word, but she wanted to. She desperately wanted to believe him because something about him seemed different. She hit dial and waited for Henry to pick up, almost hoping that he wouldn’t.

“Hello?” he asked when his end picked up. For a moment Lily panicked. “Hello?” he asked again.

“Henry,” Lily said and she heard an intake of breath on the other end.

“Lily,” he breathed. Her name said by him made her heartache. “You called me back.” he said.

“Yes, I did,” she said. “But only to tell you that you aren’t obligated to give me a reason. If you like Celeste or just want to sleep with her, that’s fine. I don’t care. Just leave me out of it.” She heard Henry sigh loudly.

“I don’t, no, Lily,” Henry stumbled over his words. “I don’t like Celeste. I don’t want to sleep with her, fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Can I meet you somewhere? Can we talk about this? In person?” he asked. Lily checked the time.

“Not tonight, I have laundry and other chores to get done,” she replied. “Would you be willing to meet me tomorrow for lunch?” she asked.

“Yes,” Henry said quickly. “Tell me where and I’ll be there.” there was an excitement in his voice. It was faint, but it was there. It stirred something in Lily that she didn’t understand.

[petersasteria]

Princess - T.H. AU // 1

Pairing: Tom x Reader

Words: 1.3k words

*This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

“Holland, where’s my coffee?!” Margaret Jones, the CEO of Regalia, shouts outside her office as she looks around for her British intern.

“Hello? Ms. Jones?” a man from her bluetooth headset says. Margaret pinches the bridge of her nose due to being stressed and tired. “Yes, Michael. I’m still here. Just keep talking and pitch your ideas.” Margaret says.

“Okay. Since your fashion line is JUST about clothes, why not make a line of shoes?” Michael asks.

“That’s brilliant, Michael. I’m afraid I can’t focus right now, because I need my fucking coffee and my fucking intern isn’t here yet!” Margaret scream. She’s not mad at Michael; she’s mad because she hasn’t had her daily dose of a venti iced coffee from Starbucks.

Everyone outside her office is scared to go near her, so they just scramble around to get their own work done. But ‘where’s the Holland she’s been looking for?’ you may ask.

He’s on his way to work. Thomas Stanley Holland is a 23 year old British man who’s working in New York City as an intern at Regalia. Now, he’s late due to the long line at Starbucks...he also woke up late.

He dashes inside the building and runs to catch the elevator with its doors about to close. “I’m gonna make it. I’m gonna make it. I’m gonna make it.” he chants to himself quietly.

Thankfully, he makes it and presses the 20th floor. “Yeah, I made it!” he cheers a little too loud causing everyone in the elevator to look at him strangely. He embarrassingly looks down whilst holding the still very cold iced coffee.

A minute or so later, he arrives at the 20th floor. He turns left and pulls open the glass door with his free hand. “Good morning!” he smiles at the receptionist.

The receptionist is a man named Giovanni Eastwood. He’s the same age as Tom and he’s the first man who was ever hired at Regalia. He helped Tom when Tom was hired as an intern. He showed Tom around and how to work stuff there and he even told Tom who to avoid, who to not mess with, and who to befriend.

Giovanni is also openly gay. He lives with Kurt Cameron, his boyfriend of 3 years.

“Hey, T! Margaret is in a mood today, because you’re late.” Giovanni rolls his eyes as he types something on his laptop. “I’ll talk to you on our lunch break so that Margaret doesn’t chop your head off.”

Tom chuckles and runs to where Margaret is. Margaret crosses her arms as soon as Tom comes into view her her venti iced coffee. “It’s nice of you to finally arrive, Mr. Holland.” Margaret angrily says as she takes her coffee from Tom.

“Yes, I’m so sorry for being late. I--” Tom gets cut off by Margaret, waving her hand in front of his face as a sign to shut up.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. You’re already here and that’s better than not showing up for no reason. I want you to follow me in my office, because I have things for you to do.” 

With that, they enter the office and Tom closes the door. He just stands in the middle of the office as he adjusts his average sized messenger bag. Margaret pulls out a folder from her drawer and hands it to Tom, “I want 5 copies for each page. Bring them to me in Meeting Room A. I have a meeting there in a minute. After that, take everyone’s order for food and drinks. We’ll be there for awhile. Then, you may take your lunch break and after that, get back to work which is cleaning my office. Just fix the files on my desk, vacuum clean the floor, and just clean the whole damn place. I want it spotless.”

Tom inhales deeply and nods slowly. “Alright. Off you go.” Margaret says and Tom is already doing his 1st task.

He goes to the area where the photocopier is and starts photocopying. He wastes no time in doing so and before he knew it, He was done. He quickly arranged everything before heading to Meeting Room A. He looked through the glass door and Margaret motions for him to come in.

He comes in and smiles at everyone before handing out the copies Margaret asked him to do.

“Tell Tom what you’d like for lunch, because we’ll be staying here for awhile. Tom, I’ll have a croissant.” Margaret says as she looks at her colleagues.

“I’ll have a chicken sandwich from McDonald’s.”

“Make that two.” 

“I’ll have a burrito from Taco Bell.” 

“I’ll just have a salad.” 

“And I’ll just have a lasagna.” 

Tom nods as he jots everyone’s orders down and he quickly leaves to buy everything for them. Margaret pays him back at the end of the day and he’ll be getting his salary at the end of the day as well.

-

It’s finally his lunch break and he eats lunch with Giovanni at Central Park which is near the building. They sit on a bench and start to eat.

“So, how’re you and Kurt?” Tom asks, starting a conversation as he takes a bite of his sandwich from Subway.

Giovanni smiles at him and flashes him his left hand, “We’re finally engaged!”

Tom looks at him with wide eyes and he looks at Giovanni’s left hand and sure enough, there’s a pretty engagement ring sitting on his left ring finger. Tom swallows his food before pulling Giovanni in for a hug, “Congratulations!!”

Giovanni hugs back and thanks him. They pull away with the smiles on their face never leaving. Kurt and Giovanni have treated Tom like he’s family. They invite Tom over for dinner sometimes when they’ve cooked food for more than two people and Tom really likes their company.

“So, you’ve been living here in NYC for almost a year now. How are you liking it so far?” Giovanni asks.

“I like it here! People are also really fast just like in London... maybe because it’s a busy city. I’m also starting to like my apartment. I’ve been decorating it the way I like.” Tom proudly says.

“That’s great! What furniture are you lacking?” Giovanni asks again, taking a bite of his potato salad that Kurt made for him.

“Hmm... I need a bed. Don’t get me wrong-- my couch is really comfy, but I really need a bed. Other than that, everything is alright.” Tom answers.

“You know what? I just realized that I’ve never given you a house warming present. Kurt and I will buy you your bed tonight. Just pick one that you like and we’ll pay for it.” Giovanni says.

“Oh, that’s too much.” Tom says in shock.

“It’s alright! It’s a gift and you can’t turn it down.” Giovanni smiles.

-

After work, Kurt picks up Giovanni and Tom so that they could buy Tom his bed. Giovanni texted Kurt earlier after their lunch break and agreed that buying Tom a bed will be a nice house warming present.

“You guys didn’t really have to, but thank you.” Tom says gratefully as he looks around for the perfect bed.

“It’s no problem! You’ve been so nice to us and we thought we’d give back.” Kurt says and Giovanni agrees.

After an hour of looking, Tom finally finds the perfect bed. He looks at the price and just walks away.

“Tom, did you like that one?” Kurt asks. Tom only nods.

“How much was it?” Giovanni asks.

“It’s really expensive. I’ll find another one, though.” Tom says with a genuine smile on his face.

“I told you that you could pick one that you like and if you like that bed, we’ll buy it for you.” Giovanni says.

“Yup.” Kurt chuckles.

With that, they bought the bed and it’ll be delivered tomorrow. Tom is excited and thanks the two men who bought it for him. They even drove him to his apartment. Tom gets out of the car, thanks them again, and waves them goodbye.

He goes inside and unlocks the door to his apartment before locking it. He gets ready for bed and turns on the tv as he gets comfy on his couch. After 2 hours of watching, he drifts off into a deep sleep.

* * * *

-not proofread-

Reblog if you liked it and tell me what you think so far on my ask! :)

Love you all xx

TAG LIST: @sweetdespairbarnes @whores-ocean @loxbbg @the-surviving-revolutionist @thewinchesterchronicles @iamanerdnot @aiianovna

[acklest]

A preview of Chapter 9 of Anything and Everything All at Once (The first 8 chapters on AO3), Wincest (but none in this preview), Sam POV, WIP. 

Words: 1,431

2003 and the Escape Velocity

Palo Alto, CA October 2003

“We’re going to Gstaad for the holidays. Again.” Brady rolled his eyes as if he was griping about a trip to the DMV. With his fork, he quarantined three olives to an unused corner of his niçoise salad, then took a cautious bite and grimaced, theatrically allowing his plastic fork to drop into the container just before he forced it closed. “I specifically said no olives and not to salt the greens. Why did I think eating on campus was a good idea?"

Sam wasn't even sure what was in his container. He thought he was ordering a salad, but it was actually mostly thin pasta. It also had more goat cheese than he thought was really necessary, which was any amount whatsoever.

Since a service-related rant from Brady could last for an hour, he ignored the question and hoped that his vague recollection about rich kids and Gstaad was correct. "I thought you liked skiing."

“Oh, I love skiing.” Brady pushed the plastic container away and wiped at his mouth with a napkin. “But this is theatre, Sam: Strings of tasteful white lights twinkling from the boughs of an eastern white pine that wasn't bothering anyone. The carefully tended fireplace. The flattering golden light that doesn't appear to have any source. The mulled cider that has either too much or too little Calvados. Five course meals served with brute-force cheer as only Germans can provide. Everyone politely overlooks the fact that my mother has been blitzed on vodka and Valium since the second day. Then it's time for the annual family portrait, for which our clothes were selected in advance to comply with a color palette that was agreed-upon the month before that. It was almost thrown into chaos this year by a controversial last-minute change from dove gray to a slightly softer dove gray. So a holiday in Gstaad is mostly just me standing around in an expensive sweater wishing I was skiing, but too drunk to do so.” He raised his mineral water imperiously. "Gesegnete Weihnachten!"

Too many times Sam had blown his scholarship cover by going wide-eyed at these stories. Not that Brady gave a shit, but still. Yachts, second homes, elite prep schools, brushes with celebrities? He might as well be reading The Great Gatsby.

As Brady explained it, there were three types of rich kids: Kids who grew up with easy access to a yacht, kids whose parents owned the yacht, and kids whose parents sold them that yacht so they could get a better one.

"Swap out yachts for horses, same thing."

Brady was the second type.

To his surprise, most of the rich kids here weren't eager to really show it off. They wore jeans and random t-shirts just like Sam did, theirs just weren't from Target. Their German-engineered cars were never more than two years old and in flawless working order, but not as showy as he would've expected. Half were fiercely competitive and the other half pretended not to care, with no in-between. But they stumbled into their first morning classes just as confused as Sam.

Then there was Brady, who thought subtlety indicated a lack of imagination.

Noticing the time on his watch, Sam collected the book from his last class from the table and stood. “Thanks for lunch, man. I have an art history exam in two days, and I can’t even tell you what happened in the last class, so I’d better get going.”

“Vasquez or Gray?” Brady asked.

He winced preemptively. "Barksdale."

“The serpent queen?” Brady intoned, horrified. “I had her for Intro to Greek Art as a freshman and I only lasted two sessions before I dropped it to get something else. Good luck.”

Sam clapped his shoulder as he walked away. "I'll need it."

When he got back to the dorm, Jerome, their dread-locked RA, slowed down in mid-jog to block him. Sam had yet to see Jerome actually walk anywhere, like he only had one speed. Maybe on speed. “Mack’s looking for you. Seems more pissed than usual."

He groaned inwardly at the mention of his roommate. “Did he say what about?”

Jerome shrugged. “If he did, I wasn’t paying attention. Just letting you know so you can brace yourself before you walk in.”

Sam thanked him, but Jerome was already out of earshot.

As he pushed open the door, Mack rose angrily from his bed. “Finally! Look, I told you I had to sleep today because the bus for Sacramento leaves at three this afternoon. And there's a damn phone somewhere that's been going off all morning. It's gone off like twenty --”

The ringtone of his old LG, which loudly mimicked the bells of an analogue phone, made the room go white around him. His hearing faded out for a second and his mouth tasted like metal.

“Twenty-one,” Mack amended angrily.

Sam went down on his knees and started digging around under the bed. Books that he wasn’t able to resell were shoved one way, binders and notebooks from past classes were shoved the other, until he saw the blue shoe box next to the electrical outlet. The red light that blinked to indicate missed calls played against the underside of the box spring.

A puff of dust rose up as he pulled the box forward, roughly separating the phone from its charger. More dust went up his nose as he flipped open the phone.

As if the muscles required to say it had atrophied from disuse, Sam's first attempt at the name failed to produce any sound at all, but his voice worked on the second try. "Dean?"

“Don’t hang up.”

That would've been his first impulse, but from the sound of his voice, Dad wasn't pulling his usual Gunny Highway shit.

In no universe was this good news.

The metallic taste in Sam's mouth intensified. It felt like his teeth were coated with it. From the floor, he waved his hand dismissively at Mack, who lingered curiously. He thought of a couple of cutting things to say ("better talk fast then"), but that wasn't what came out. "Is Dean okay?"

Was that weary laugh offended? “I hope so. How fast can you get to San Jose?”

It'd been two years and he was out of practice with Dad's condensed bursts of information, no extraneous syllables. “What?”

“San Jose, Sam. How fast?"

“An hour or so,” Sam answered faintly. “Dean’s in San Jose?”

“At a hospital on Forest Avenue, O’Connor.”

His chest tightened with panic. “Is he –”

“I don’t know,” Dad interrupted. “I could barely get them to confirm he was even there. You still have your old IDs?”

They were in the same box where he’d been keeping his old phone.

“Sam! You still got your old IDs?”

Right, nodding didn't work over the phone. “Yeah.”

“I told them that I was calling his cousin, Paul Di’Anno, and that you would be up there to see him. Please tell me you still have that one.”

Sam tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and rifled through some personal records, class schedules, and dust bunnies before finding them. He quickly removed the rubber band and started thumbing through them. Phil Lanzon, Dave Brock, William McCafferty and --

He let the rest fall back into the box. “Got it.”

“Get up there as fast as you can. He’s under the name Terence Butler. If he can stand up, walk him out. I'm in West Virginia, there's no way I'll make it in time."

“In time for what?”

"I just found out a fresh felony warrant's been issued outta Nebraska as of this morning, blow back from a job we did there back in June. That ID's burned, and if what happened to him was bad --"

"The hospital has to report it."

"And I don't know if he had his gun on him when they brought him in or how fast the San Jose PD is gonna run the ID.” He could practically see Dad rubbing his hand down his face. “Sam, I'm sorry to ask, but I need your help.”

Did that hurt? Sounds like it hurt.

Sam bit it back just in time. "But what do I --"

He heard the beep of the call ending and pulled the phone away from his ear to snap it closed.

But what do I say to him?

Dad wouldn’t have been able to answer that one anyway.

Mack still hovered nearby, looking more intrigued than actually concerned. “Everything okay?”

Sam stood up and dusted himself off. "I need your car."

[lizacstuff]

Roswell NM FanFic: Swooping Hearts (Max/Liz)

Description: Liz does some soul-searching about her feelings for Max, and Max confronts the truth, each at the prompting of a friend. Canon compliant, takes place in the 6 weeks between Barely Breathing (1x08) and Songs of Texas (1x09). Echo.

Note:   I bought that Liz was ready to move forward with Max in Songs of Texas (1x09) but here are a couple of “missing scenes,” conversations with Kyle and Michael, that might have taken place during the 6 weeks prior to help get the characters were they were at the beginning of that episode.

Read on AO3

Max felt a rush of nervous energy as he wound his way through the hospital on the way to the lab. That feeling was nothing new when he was anticipating seeing Liz, but he was pleased to perceive no light flickers in his path. Maybe his control was getting better. Once he was outside the lab door, he paused before entering. Day by day, week by week, things had gotten progressively better between him and Liz. It had been four weeks since Isobel had entered the pod and these days when Liz looked at him it wasn’t with suspicion or anger, no these days it seemed she mostly felt a sort of awkward sympathy towards him. Which was a step up, but not exactly ideal. He knew he didn’t deserve ideal, he also knew they didn’t deserve the amount of work she was putting in to cure Isobel. What she was doing, how hard she was working to help people who had hurt her... it was just another thing about Liz Ortecho that awed him.

However, to be fair, pretty much everything about Liz Ortecho awed him.

When Max finally did push open the door of the lab, neither Michael nor Liz stirred from their work, each was too engrossed in their respective tasks. He cleared his throat.

The sound startled Liz, and she looked up quickly, searching for the source. When her eyes found Max, she felt a familiar sensation. If she’d been asked to explain the sensation, she’d have said it was as if her heart dropped into her stomach and then did a full somersault before swooping back into place. It was something that occurred most times when she saw him and it was disconcerting to say the least. Especially because of the cage she had proudly built around said heart. The walls of that cage were supposed to protect against this type of thing.

Since he’d come back to town, the ‘swoop’ had been accompanied by a variety of emotions, affection, lust, terror, anger, suspicion, regret, empathy and sympathy to name a few. She’d felt more, more emotions, more of everything, since returning to Roswell than she probably had for the entirety of the last ten years combined. Against her will, the walls had slowly started to come down; it was a lot to handle.

Their gazes locked for a moment. These days there was such a sadness to his eyes and seeing it there now, she felt a tightening in her gut, as if something had ratcheted up the pressure on her one more notch. She had to find a cure, and soon.

Finally, Michael interrupted the silence. “Max, what’re you doing here?”

“Uh...” What was he doing here? Looking at Liz sometimes had the effect of making him lose his train of thought. He shook his head as if trying to jog himself back into reality. Food. Right, that’s why he was there. He raised up his arm and revealed two take-out bags. “Dinner. I stopped by the Crashdown, I thought you two could use some sustenance.”

“Yes,” Michael said gratefully, and then held up his hand. One of the bags flew directly from Max’s hand toward his own.

Just then, the door opened again and Kyle strode into the lab as the bag hit Michael’s hand. He surveyed the group and said with forced joviality, “It’s a party in here.”

Michael rolled his eyes as he came over to stand next to Max as if lining up against the other man. He replied sardonically, “It was a party, then you showed up.”

Kyle looked a little taken aback at the open animosity. Over the last month when he’d interacted with Max, they’d been cordial. Max was grateful for his help, Michael not so much and Kyle could not figure out why. His best guess was that Michael had aligned himself with Max over the so-called love triangle that involved Max, Liz and himself. However, since it had been well over a month since he’d had anything to do with Liz romantically and since Max didn’t appear to be holding a grudge, that didn’t quite seem to explain it. “Good evening to you, too, Guerin.”

Michael ignored him and looked to Max. “I need to go collect another sample. You wanna give me a ride and...” he gestured with the bag of food, “I’ll eat on the way?”

“Sure,” Max said, carefully keeping any disappointment he felt out of his voice. It’s not that he’d planned to stay long, but he would have liked to, at least, have a chance to talk to Liz, even if just for a minute. Instead, he caught Liz’s eye once more and held up the take-out bag to indicate it was hers, before resting it on a nearby desk.

Liz watched him turn to leave, feeling oddly bereft. She hadn’t seen much of him since they’d started working in earnest on a cure for Isobel. He’d stop by occasionally to bring pizza or burritos or check on their progress, but he never stayed more than a few minutes. Despite the number of times she’d told herself that distance from him was best, and how disconcerting she found the heart ‘swoop’ when she did see him, she found herself wishing he would stay. When he was almost out the door she called, “Bye Max. Thanks for dinner.”

Max looked back with a half-smile and waved before the door whooshed close behind him.

“Did I interrupt something?” Kyle asked as he came over to Liz’s workspace.

Liz shook her head in answer, looked down at her notebook where she’d been keeping records and then slammed down her safety goggles. “Maldita sea!” she muttered angrily.

Startled, Kyle asked, “What’s wrong?”

Liz let out a long and frustrated sigh. “Another failure, I’m never going to get this.”

Kyle studied her a second and then moved so he was standing right next to her. “You know, Liz, you don’t have to do this. You’re killing yourself trying to find a cure for-” Kyle stopped himself, he’d been about to say ‘our sister,’ he mentally course-corrected and continued, “your sister’s murderer. It’s not worth you making yourself crazy or running yourself into the ground.”

Once again, she shook her head dismissively, but didn’t meet his eye as she said, “I’m not.”

“You are,” Kyle insisted. “You do your regular lab work during the day and then you stay all night working for the aliens.”

“I’m not working for them.” Liz replied a bit defensively. She hopped off her stool, walked over to the desk and picked up the take-out bag Max had left. It was the least he could do, but the gesture still warmed her heart. She reached in to the familiar bag, pulled out a salad and smiled. From the tag, she could tell it was a Solar System Shrimp Salad, special ordered with edamame instead of croutons, and Intergalactic Vinaigrette instead of the Mars Rover Honey Mustard that usually came with it.

She wondered if Max knew her exact order from the one other time he’d gotten take out from the Crashdown for them, or if he’d relied on her father’s expertise. Then she remembered her dad was off tonight. It was all Max.

As Liz prepared to eat, Kyle looked around the lab appraisingly. “Seriously, you’re eating dinner at 8pm at work. You should go home and get some rest. You can come back tomorrow.”

Liz speared a shrimp with her fork and then looked at him. “You don’t understand.”

Kyle frowned with resignation and then slumped down in a chair a few feet away from her. “I think I do. It’s Evans.”

xXx

“You know,” said Max as he climbed into the driver’s side of his jeep, “You should be a little nicer to Kyle. He’s one of two humans who know our secret and he’s helping with Isobel.”

“I hate that guy,” Michael muttered as he settled himself in the passenger seat.

Max glanced over him as he pulled out of the parking spot and then realization dawned. “A-ha!” Kyle had generally been a bully in high school, but Max suddenly remembered who his favorite target had been.

Before Max could elaborate on that revelation, Michael hurriedly said, “Despite him knowing we’re not human, I don’t know why you’re so friendly towards him; he’d like nothing better than to marry Liz and take her off to some suburban track house and have 2.5 kids and a dog.”

Max grimaced with revulsion, he couldn’t help but picture it and it sent a frisson of anger through him. The overhead light blinked on and off, and then sparks flew from it before it extinguished.

“So I take it you don’t like that idea.” Michael emphasized the word ‘don’t’ with a rough laugh.

The other man swallowed the very large lump that had taken up residence in his throat, when he spoke his voice took on an even more gravely quality than usual. “It’s none of my business. I want Liz to be happy, and I know it’s not going to be with me.”

Michael shook his head but smiled. “Max Evans, always the martyr.”

“I’m not being a martyr,” Max shot back roughly.

“What would you call it then?”

Max was silent for several long moments before he let out a long sigh and said, “Respecting her wishes. She told me we weren’t meant to be together.”

“Really?” Michael asked with genuine surprise. Of the two of them, currently he was the one spending a lot more time with Liz and that admission surprised him. Not that Michael and Liz had bared their souls to one another, they hadn’t, but whenever Max came around or was mentioned in conversation it seemed to him that something ‘sparked’ in her. Not the way Max literally sparked over her, but something in her eyes and general demeanor. He had sort of assumed that they would find their way to one another once this crisis with Isobel was over. Just like Michael hoped that he would find his way back to a certain someone, if he only found the right opportunity.

Max kept his eyes on the road, but nodded with resignation. “She told me the day we put Isobel in the pod. Those exact words, ‘you and I weren’t meant to be together.’” Max recited the words that had played in his mind a hundred times over the last month, each one a gut punch. He shook his head as if to clear it before adding, “Not that I blame her. In her shoes, I don’t think I could get over what we did.”

Michael let that sink in and the two rode in silence as Michael ate his burger. Maybe it was true; maybe they weren’t meant to be together, and maybe it was bigger than Max and Liz. Maybe humans and aliens just didn’t mix. Maybe none of them was meant to be with a human. That thought left him with a pit in his stomach and he was unable to eat the last bit of burger. He balled up the greasy paper and shoved it back in the bag.

However, all things considered, he had to admit that Liz had taken the news about aliens very well. Kyle too. They knew the secret, and were still helping to cure Isobel. Plus they hadn’t turned them in to any secret government alien-hunting organizations. Yet. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if certain humans found out about them, if a certain human found out about him. If Liz could work so hard to save one of them, after what they’d done, then... Michael’s train of thought stopped cold and it dawned on him: Max didn’t know.

There was something very important that Max didn’t understand at all.

He shifted in his seat to face him, “You know why she’s working so hard to cure Isobel, don’t you?”

“What?” Max’s mind had clearly wandered in the few minutes of silence. Then he seemed to remember the thread of the conversation. “Oh, well, that’s because she’s a good person, infinitely better than any of us.” His voice held quiet conviction.

“Well, I won’t argue with you there.” Michael acknowledged the truth of the statement. “You’re right, Liz Ortecho is a good person, but that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

Michael blew out a breath in disbelief; Max could be so smart, but so thick at the same time. “She’s doing it for you.”

Max felt his heart lift at the words. He glanced over at Michael who was watching him. Michael nodded at him with a knowing expression, as if to reinforce what he’d just said.

Then reality settled in. “No,” Max replied decisively before continuing, “That’s a nice thought, but Liz is decent. She would help find a cure no matter what.”

Michael tipped his head to the side as if acknowledging the truth of that, but Max didn’t see it because his eyes were on the road. “Probably, but she wouldn’t be working late every night, last week she practically slept in the lab in order to keep her eye on one of the trials. That, Max, she’s doing for you.”

Max shook his head. It’s not that he didn’t want to believe it, he did, but it just didn’t line-up with what he knew. What he knew was that he’d been involved in the thing that had hurt Liz most. He couldn't forgive himself, there was no way he could expect her to forgive him.

Undeterred by Max’s skepticism, Michael continued, “When Isobel injected herself with the poison, Liz was overwhelmed, she was feeling guilty, she couldn’t pull it together and figure out what to do, do you know what she needed?”

Max’s eyes didn’t leave the road, he also didn’t breathe, he just gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“She needed motivation, she needed to stop thinking about finding a cure for her sister’s murderer, and she needed to start thinking about finding a cure for YOUR sister. Bringing you in to the equation is what allowed her to focus and start work on a solution and now that is where her single-minded dedication and determination is coming from. You. She cares about you.”

Max glanced over at him, as if he wanted to check his sincerity.

“It’s true, Max,” Michael reassured. “When we’re working and we hit a road block, you’re the reason she doesn’t give up and finds a way around it. When we hit a dead end, you’re the reason she finds another path and when we discover the well is dry, you’re the reason she digs a new one and keeps going.”

Max was stunned. He really had been chalking up her help entirely to her character, plus a little guilt and a lot of scientific curiosity. The fact that he might also be a factor floored him. “Really?” his voice held equal parts skepticism and wonder.

Michael just laughed. “Open your eyes, Max. If you were a little more observant you’ll see the truth of what I’m saying.”

Max let that sit for a beat; Liz cared about him. Even if it wasn’t enough and she never fully forgave him, it was something. He allowed himself to feel a moment of lightness, he’d experienced so few since Isobel had gone into the pod... then he glanced over at Michael and smirked. “How about this for observant, I know you don’t like Kyle because he was an ass to Alex Manes in high school.”

“How did...” Michael’s voice trailed off.

Max answered with a teasing tone to his voice, “I was the one standing next to you on prom night, remember?”

Michael was silent for a minute as he let that sink in. “Yeah,” Michael’s mouth finally curved into a half-smile and then he turned to, lightly, punch his alien brother on the arm. It was nice to be back on good terms with Max, more than nice, he’d missed him. “You were.”

xXx

After Kyle dropped Max’s name, Liz didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to, the truth of what he said was written clear across her face. Liz transferred her attention back to her salad and took a bite.

“Soooo...” Kyle studied her intently. “You’re just completely over him lying to you and covering up Rosa’s murder for ten years?”

“I didn’t say I was over it,” Liz said defiantly.

“Why are you killing yourself then? Look, I’m not saying you should give up or stop searching for a cure, but you don’t need to spend every waking minute on it.”

“You don’t understand,” she repeated and then put down her fork and met his gaze. “I can’t... I can’t live with him in this kind of pain. I have to fix it.”

“His pain?” Kyle said incredulously.

“Kyle...”

“No seriously, Liz. You’re worried about his pain? After what he did to you, what he did to Rosa?”

Liz looked to the ceiling and blinked hard several times, trying to stem the heat she felt building behind her eyes. She took a deep breath before transferring her focus back to her dinner.

“How can you even think of forgiving him?” Kyle asked. However, as he watched the emotions play across her face realization slowly dawned. “Good god, Liz, you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

His words hit her like bullets, and Liz felt an overwhelming urge to run. To jump out of her chair without a word and take off down the hall; away from this room, away from Kyle’s questions, away from truth. She did not want to have this conversation. However, she didn’t run, instead she transferred her gaze back to her salad, the salad Max had brought for her and found a chunk of tomato with her fork.

She managed to say, “That’s ridiculous,” before taking a bite of salad. Kyle couldn’t see the ‘swoop’ her heart did, out of its cage, every time she saw Max, could he?

“It’s not, though, is it?”

“I barely know him,” Liz lied, cutting him off before he could say more. The truth was that she did know Max, faults and all, but she feared that he didn’t really know her. She was a hot mess, an imposter going through life with a professional façade, an air of togetherness that she didn’t feel. The façade designed so that no one could see through it, not her father, not her boss, not Kyle or Alex or Maria, and certainly not the man who... well, the man in question. The man in question had her on a pedestal, it was one of the many reasons it would never work between them, no matter how they thought they felt about one another.

Kyle watched the play of emotions cross her face and realized it was worse than he’d thought. “Listen, it’s obvious you’re... conflicted, but his pain is not your problem. I get that he’s cut up about his sister but-”

“It is my problem,” Liz replied softly. “I caused it. Max and Isobel share a psychic bond, apparently have their whole lives, now it’s gone, sort of. I made the thing that did that and now Max is... alone, really alone for the first time and I can’t stand it. I can’t stand that I’m the one who did that to him.”

Liz shivered, despite her sweater and lab coat. She felt exposed at the admissions she’d made. She hadn’t even admitted to herself why she was working so hard. It’s as if she’d had a tacit agreement with her psyche not to think too deeply about it, but now, thanks to Kyle, all of it was coming out.

Kyle let a few moments of silence pass, and when he finally spoke, his voice held both kindness and the very real concern he felt over Liz becoming so obviously attached to an... alien. “Look, Liz, I don’t want to upset you, but I also don’t want you to get hurt. It’s... it’s just important to remember that we know so little about them.”

“I know.” Liz said the heat returning to her voice as she dropped her fork and finally met Kyle’s gaze. “You think I don’t know that?” Now she stood, abandoning her salad, and started pacing around the room. “You think I don’t know that it’s crazy... that this whole thing is crazy? I know it’s crazy, Kyle.” She shoved one hand into her hair and then grabbed a fistful of it in frustration. “I’m here at ground zero of this whole situation, using my job as a scientist and my access to a lab to research alien antidotes. Its nuts. And, yes, it’s a little overwhelming to find out that a boy I grew up with, that I’ve known for 20 years, someone I almost ran away with after high school is an alien. And it’s even more overwhelming to find out that his sister murdered-”

Kyle had been listening, but he couldn’t stop himself from interrupting. He asked incredulously, “Wait... you almost ran away with him after high school?”

Liz who was breathless after her rant, shot him an awkward look that was tinged with pity, but she didn’t pull punches. “Yes. I feel like... I forgot that. Or it was fuzzy for years, but since I got back to town it’s been slowly coming back to me and now the memory is clear as day. I remember how I felt, how happy I was. We made plans; he was going to go on the road trip with me. We were going to kiss at the ocean... and the Grand Canyon.” Her voice was wistful as she said it.

Kyle grunted at the idea of his high school girlfriend taking off with the likes of Max Evans only weeks after they broke up. However, he was an adult now, time had passed, so he put his ego away and mustered as much objectivity as he could. “That’s all well and good, I guess, but it doesn’t change what they did, what he did.”

“I know.” Liz said, shaking her head. “You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I’m conflicted about this? All of this?” She gestured to the lab at large and then sat back down as if deflated. “But if I’ve learned anything the last few weeks, studying his biology, studying them, I know exactly what it would mean for certain people I’ve run across in the scientific community to get their hands on what we’re doing. Max is not wrong when he tells me they are all alone here. They are alone. If people knew they existed, their lives would be over. When it all happened they were teenagers, they were terrified; they had no one who could help. Isobel has no memory of it... and I do truly believe Max had no idea what the consequences of his actions that night would be for me and my family.”

Kyle grimaced. “So, it’s okay that he lied to you?”

“No,” Liz said sharply as she felt the stab of pain in her gut when she remembered the betrayal she’d felt when he’d done his best to throw sand in her eyes. “That’s actually harder to forgive. I wanted to trust him, with everything I had I wanted to trust him, and it turns out I was right not to, he was lying.”

“But you’re still doing this.”

Liz shrugged helpless and searched for an answer. Why was she doing this? “You might find it hard to believe, and maybe I’m a fool, but deep down I believe he’s...” What? What did Liz believe about Max Evans? Then it all suddenly made sense, why she was doing this, who he was as a person, deep-down. “I believe he’s good.”

The revelation shook her, but in her gut, she knew it was true. Max Evans was good, maybe his actions hadn’t always been, when he’d acted out of terror and desperation, but just as she knew in her bones she was safe with him, she knew at his core, he was good. She could feel it.

She stood again, time to get back to work. “And he’s in pain so I need to get back to work. Michael will be back soon with the sample and I need to prep for it.”

Kyle waited a beat, and then when it became clear the conversation was over he stood and said, “Well then I’ll leave you to it.”

At that, Liz looked up and then called, “Wait, Kyle.” He paused in the doorway and looked back to her. At almost any point in the last decade, having such an emotionally open conversation would have exhausted Liz, if she’d even stuck around for it, but now she felt better. Unburdened, focused and most surprising she felt clearer on her complicated feelings for Max and the entire situation. “Thanks, uh, I think that helped.”

He nodded once in acknowledgement and then left the room as Liz, more determined than ever, set about finding a cure for Isobel, and a way to stop Max’s pain.

The End.

[raphpanda21]

Karma’s a Bitch

Minthe sat at her desk angrily stabbing her store bought salad. Hades was ignoring her. She had texted him with no response. That hadn’t made her angry though. What made her angry was when she finally caved and decided to call him he screened her call after two rings sending it straight to voice mail. The reality of the situation was that Minthe was finally getting a taste of her own medicine and she wasn’t a fan. As much as she hated to admit it perhaps Hecate was right and she would have to figure out someway to get back in his good graces regarding the fleabag situation. As if the furries themselves had heard her disparaging thoughts retribution came swiftly as her fork found its mark. Stabbing an overripe cherry tomato it squirted out hitting her work blouse a few stray seeds sliding down the now ruined silk blouses front.

Minthe took a deep calming breath counting to ten in her mind as she stood picked up what was left of the salad and carried it to the break room. She tossed the remains in the bin with a little more force than was necessary. Heading back to her desk she logged everything off before grabbing her coat and purse. She was done. This day had been an absolute shit show and the tomato was the the cherry on top.

She needed advice from a pro as much as her pride hurt to admit it. Making her way downstairs she pressed three on her speed dial and waited.

Thetis: Hey Bitch, calling me before clocking out time it must be serious .

Minthe: Cut the crap Thetis I called cause I needed some advice.

Thetis: Really? Well I don’t give anything for free soooo?

Minthe: You are such a bitch. Fine I will buy you those heels you have been whining about on fatesbook.

Thetis: Deal, so what have you done now? I thought you had just weasled back into his favor.

Minthe: Uggh, he is just being sensitive. His stupid dog has run off probably just chasing some tail but he flipped out when I told him that.

Thetis: Ah, you know sometimes it amazes me how you have made it this far. When it comes to the wife, the family , or the pets you need to remember these things. You never bring up the wife when he is with you because he is coming to you to get away from her. Only talk about family if he brings it up period! Then last but not least, always I repeat always be as into the pets as he is. If he hates them you hate them and vice versa.

Minthe: Well fuck! This isn’t something I can really fix with some crocodile tears is it?

Thetis: Nope you are going to have to get off that fat ass of yours and put in some work this time. I suggest print off a ton of flyers and find him. Sure you know you could care less but your actions will imply otherwise.

Minthe sighed knowing Thetis was right but not really having the desire or energy to traipse around to find a dog that would most likely eat her given the chance. Seeing a copy shop across the street it seemed her destination was set. Checking to make sure the road was clear she jaywalked across the street to the copy shop.

Minthe: Fine, but I am not going anywhere until I go home and change. I ruined my favorite blouse because of all of this .

Thetis: You do you, but my advice is the more disheveled you look in this situation the better. Gives you that concerned upset look that you are oh so terrible at faking. Any look would be better than your usual polished ice queen gimmick.

Minthe: Whatever whore, I have to go. Try not to get replaced you are getting to be a rather old model after all.

Minthe hangs up before Thetis can come back with a nasty comment. Going to fatesbook app on her cell she pulled up Hades page quickly scrolling through his photos until she found a decent one of Cerberus. Walking to the counter she slid the phone across to the clerk.

Minthe: I need you to make 200 Lost dog flyers with this mutts photo.

Store clerk: Sure thing just write down the contact number and if there is a reward what it will be.

The clerk slides a pad and pen towards Minthe. Minthe’s ears flattened back with annoyance. Damn she hadn’t thought about what Hades might pay to get this mutt back. Seeing the clerk waiting she grabbed the pen and pad and scribbled down Hades number writing beneath it reward offered upon safe return.

Minthe: I will let him negotiate the terms. How long will this take?

The clerk took the pad and quickly began to type the information into his screen before he picked up her cell and sent the photo to the stores email. Done with the cell he slid it back to her

Store Clerk: About 5 - 8 mins. How would you like to pay?

Minthe was already absorbed in her phone trying to locate Hades cell signal. It wasn’t creepy that she had engaged a phone tracker on him. It was a security measure.

Minthe: Just charge it to the Corporate account.

The clerk glanced at her employee badge and shrugged entering the payment information and moving back to the printer.

Finally his cell pinged a tower. He wasn’t terribly far away yet. It looked like he was only about 5 neighborhoods over from his own which actually placed him closer to her current location. Going back to her apps she quickly pulled up her Charioteer app and arranged for a pickup.

Less then ten minutes later she was in the car flyers in hand and headed Hades way. Looking at herself in the driver rearview mirror she remembered Thetis’ words. Disheveled is better. Setting aside the flyers she reached up and quickly rustled up her hair making it look unkempt as if she had been running our caught in a maelstrom. Regarding herself in the mirror she frowned. It didn’t look enough to her despite what Thetis said. Maybe a little ruined mascara would give it the real effect. Tilting her head back Minthe willed herself to cry. It took a few minutes but soon they were flowing leaving her eyes nice and puffy and with just a hint of running mascara. Cutting off her tears she smiled at the effect in the mirror .

Minthe: Perfection.

Minthe might have thought she looked perfect for the role she was about to play but her driver was genuinely worried he had picked up another loon. Why were the hot ones always crazy? The Gods were cruel.

[jinterlude]

Two Faced (Ch.2)

↳ gif header is made by © @softjeon. Please don’t try and steal it and make it your own.

➵ Pairing(s): Gang!Jungkook x Female!OC & Gang!Mark Lee x Female!OC x Gang!Seokjin

➵ Genre(s):  College!AU, Mafia/Gang!AU, Angst, Romance, Friendship, Humor, Love Triangle & Slight-Fluff

➵ Warning(s): None for this chapter

➵ Words: 4.9K

➵ Co-writer: @softjeon

➵ Summary: Two girls. Two gangs. One craved absolute control over the city of Seoul. While, the other simply craved sleep and good grades. Now, what do these two ladies have in common? Simple. They have nothing in common—or so they think. Everyone knows the saying, “never judge a book by its cover”, so maybe there is something more to these two than meets the eye…especially when one of them is suddenly thrown into the underground life. Loyalties will be tested. Romance will blossom. Yup. Sounds like an average college day…

« Previously | Next Time »

Chapter 2 - Being Watched

A few days later, Sumin barely slept a wink. The dark undertones that decorated her eyes. The tiny bags that formed on her under eyelid. Honestly, it appeared as if she had went without rest for months. Why?

Well…

It was all because of her damn roommate.

Ever since she saw Sowon sneak out the window late at night, so many questions swarmed Sumin’s mind. More specifically, questions about Sowon’s well-being haunted her to the point that she couldn’t get a good night’s rest knowing that her mysterious roommate was out there doing God knows what.

Maybe something happened to her...or maybe she’s doing something that she wasn’t supposed to do.

Honestly, Sumin’s nearly at the point of developing like a conspiracy theory board, just so she could figure out what in the Hell was Sowon up to—especially—around midnight.

Currently, on the hunt for Sowon, Sumin walked down the brick pathway, silently admiring the trees and how the leaves would slightly shake from the wind.

Her eyes scanned every direction, slowly losing hope as the minutes rolled by.

“Where could you be, you stubborn woman?” The aggravated woman muttered to herself as she continued her journey.

On the other side of campus was where Sowon remained hidden. Not because she feared her cute little roommate’s wrath but because she wanted to spend a little one-on-one with her lover. Forcing to hide because of a rising, rivalry gang sucked, but she understood why her members demanded that she posed as a college student.

Their leaders safety was their number one priority...

“Thank you,” Sowon mumbled, as she put her arms around the man she called her boyfriend.

“I got you, babe,” Jungkook caught her chin and kissed her, a kiss meant to reassure her that she could count on him. As he’d hoped, she gripped the front of his leather jacket fiercely, dragging him against her as she kissed him back, pouring all the worry and love into it. To say that everything has been quite a mess in her life lately, would have been an understatement for Sowon—but at least she had her boys and Jungkook. He locked his arm around her back and kissed her hard and deep. He absolutely loved the feeling of her body against his, of the way she was leaning on him for comfort and strength. He pressed a kiss to her hair, when his gaze locked onto another girl. One that he wasn’t familiar with yet seemed like she knew Sowon with the way she stomped right over to them. Jungkook let go of his girlfriend, leaning back against his motorbike as he squeezed Sowon’s butt once, earning an eye roll from her.

“Go and study, baby girl,” Jungkook teased her and before Sowon could say anything back, Sumin’s voice was already scolding her only a few steps away.

“Calm down, sunshine,” She said and swung her arm around the younger girl, “Let’s go and get to our lecture…”

“…it’s over…you missed it! It’s lunch time now!” Sumin mumbled angrily, wanting answers to why the other girl had sneaked out of the window and not come back. She had been staying awake almost the whole night, waiting for her. 

Curse her caring nature…

“Oh well, then let’s go and eat something,” Sowon said happily and rubbed her belly, “I’m hungry anyways.”

Sumin gawked; anger bubbled within the pit of her stomach. If she was bold, she would strangle her roommate for not only missing classes but keeping her up for the entire night. She could not stress the importance of getting full night's sleep. Sleep was considered to be wonderful brain food. If her brain hadn’t gotten its much needed fuel, she would be failing all her classes and more than likely act like Sowon.

Now, that was a disturbing thought.

“Fine...we can get food, but you are going to your next lecture!” Sumin shouted, stomping away from the big-breasted woman.

Sowon snorted, finding the younger girl quite hilarious. Though, it just occurred to her that Sumin knew what and where her next lecture was. What made that thought funnier was that she never told Sumin her “schedule”.

Yup. Her roomie kept piquing her interests.

“And how do you know what and where my next lecture is?” Sowon questioned, smirking.

Sumin, unbothered to glance over her shoulder, answered,

“I just do!”

Sowon laughed. Not because of Sumin’s short answer but because of what happened next. Sumin collided into someone causing the poor girl to trip over her feet and fall flat on her ass.

“Oh shit. Are you okay?” asked the person, not knowing that certain lady was merely a few feet away.

A faint groan escaped her lips as she debated whether to remain on the sidewalk or suck up her pride and get up. Right now, she wanted to remain lying down and pray that someone steps on her.

“This is why you need me, my little innocent ray of sunshine!” shouted her roommate as she jogged up to her side. Sowon then kneeled beside her and offered a hand.

“No. This is why I don’t need you.” said Sumin, emphasizing a certain word.

Sowon rolled her eyes. Though, as she did, she caught glimpse of a certain pretty boy that so happened to be also a member of her gang. The fuck was Seokjin doing here?

Quickly shaking off the feeling of familiarity, Sowon feigned ignorance and ignored the man. She stood up and pulled Sumin with her, much to the girl’s dismay.

“I think you almost tore my arm out of its socket…” Sumin muttered as she rubbed her shoulder.

Sowon only smiled, shooting her a playful yet flirtatious wink.

Looking over her shoulder, she furrowed her brows at Seokjin, mouthing the words that could mean something like “the fuck are you doing here?” but Seokjin didn’t even care and kept a few feet away.

Sowon turned her attention back to Sumin, “So…what about some late night studies tonight, huh? We could get us some coffee and see for how long we can stay upright on our chairs in the library, sounds like fun, right?”

Eyeing Seokjin, who sat himself a few tables away from the two, Sowon bit into the sandwich she had bought herself, not caring about any etiquette, as she leaned her arm over her leg, that she had put up on the chair.

“We could meet up after seminars and shit,” The older girl said with a mouth full off food, reaching for her cup of coffee right after.

Sowon had absolutely no interest in studying, but with Sumin around, no one would expect anything, if she would do some of her business right there. Taehyung had wanted to inform her about the whereabouts of some certain gang anyway. And no one would suspect anything there. In the library—between shelves and an endless amount of boring books.

“So, what do you say? Want to do some power studying?” She asked in a questioning tone as she silently berated herself for not coming up with something more convincing.

Sumin hummed in response, playing with the few pieces she had left of her grilled chicken salad.

“I guess I can use a change of scenery! Besides, my mom always told me that the best place to get your school work done is at the library.” Sumin said, agreeing to Sowon’s idea.

Sowon scoffed yet she had a playful smile painted on her lips.

“Do you always do what mommy dearest says?” She teased before taking a sip of her coffee

“Not all the time…” muttered Sumin as she held her drink to her lips. The straw rested nicely against her bottom lip.

“I find that hard to believe, but alright.” Sowon shrugged as she glanced around the dining hall. In doing so, she had instantly picked up on not one, not two, but three familiar faces. What the fuck?

“It’s true! One time, I typed up my four-page essay just two days before the due date. My mom says to never leave your work until the very last minute.”

“Ooh….what a naughty girl you are.”

Now carrying a bunch of books about famous court cases, Sumin continued to struggle; her arms trembled from the combined weight of the seven books she carried. Tiny groans escaped her lips as she tried her hardest to maneuver between the people, that apparently thought it was a good idea to stand in the aisle way. 

Faint, “excuse me”, came out of her lips as she successfully pushed past her fellow students. The gap between her study table and her body decreased with each step. Sumin saw the light at the end of the tunnel as her arms were milliseconds from giving up.

“Come on...you can do it...almost there…” She groaned as she hurried her little shuffles.

Unfortunately, her books weren’t cooperating. Just as she increased her pace, the organized tiny tower of books began to topple slightly.

Not wanting to create a huge ruckus, Sumin thought to pick up her pace even more. However, before even taking two steps towards her table, two of the books toppled over. The height of the fall would be enough to create a loud bang, echoing throughout the silent library.

Great...she was bound to be kicked out...might even be banned…

Sumin instantly shut her eyes; a few whines left her lips. She embraced herself for the thunderous bang from the impact and being scolded by the librarian.

Seconds passed and there was no loud bang.

Instead, she heard a voice. The same voice she had heard hours earlier.

“I believe this belongs to you, Miss.”

Her eyes trailed up, examining the features of the person who saved her from being eternally banned from the library.

“Thank you so much...um...” She said softly, not wanting to disrupt the students who had their noses buried deep in their books.

“Seokjin, and it’s no problem,” He replied; the softness in his tone matched hers. His intense gaze bore into her innocent ones. He took note of how hypnotic her doe-like eyes were. “Say...has anyone told you that you are incredibly beautiful, and that your smile gives me princess-like vibes...um...” Seokjin added, flashing her his signature smile.

The sudden compliment caught the poor girl off guard. Her cheeks instantly heated up, no longer dawning the signature rosy hue. Her mind became a muddled mess. She couldn’t come up with any coherent sentences.

This alluring, intrigued smirk slowly formed on the handsome man’s face. He had grown used to leaving both men and women a mindless zombie just by flashing a sweet smile, but how Sumin behaved, it was definitely a new one.

Wanting to be nice, he decided to give the nervous woman a few more minutes to come up with a response before he resumed flirting with her.

Whether it meant something or not had yet to be determined.

Just as the time limit was about to expire, the little lady spoke,

“Sumin, and I’m no princess,” She shifted her eyes towards Sowon’s direction and then back to Seokjin, “But you, sir, are quite handsome enough to be a prince.” She finished.

Seokjin chuckled and simply shook his head.

“Well, if I’m a prince, then that means I would need a princess so…” He took a step close, closing the gap between their bodies, “Mind being mine?” He whispered; his tone dripped with charisma and alluringness.

“Mind stop following me?” Sowon stepped up from behind and threw an arm around her roommate, “Why are you so obsessed with me? Ugh.” She took some of the books out of Sumin’s hand and turned around, walking into the opposite direction. “C’mon Sumin, we don’t want to be seen with obsessed lovers with tiny dicks anyways,” Sowon said happily, skipping ahead while she could feel the stare from Seokjin piercing right through her back. She would probably will be lectured by him later on how she was always ruining his chances with girls, wanting her to stay quiet—but where was the fun in that?

As she was dragged away from the handsome stranger, Sumin couldn’t help but peek over her shoulder. Her gaze locked with his; her soften stare contrasted his currently irritated ones. Feeling her stare onto his, Seokjin switched focus and lightened his stare. A warm smile formed on his face as he playfully winked at the innocent lady.

This short, soft squeak emitted from her lips as Sumin once again blushed from the sudden flirtatious act. Not wanting him to see her blush for the nth time this afternoon, Sumin swiftly turned away and tried to focus on what her friendly roommate babbled about—keyword tried.

“He’s bad news, little sunshine.” Sumin heard Sowon say, “We dated for like a couple weeks and in those few weeks, he always already telling me that he loved me and all that jazz.” Sowon finished, releasing her hold on Sumin’s shoulder.

Sumin couldn’t help but gasp with wide eyes as she placed her hill of books on the table; finally, giving her arms a much needed break.

Sowon nodded, gently forcing her studious roomie to her chair.

“Yup…” She trailed on, taking the time to walk over to her seat, “Here’s a piece of advice for you, if the guy or girl, I don’t judge, starts saying “I love you”, and the two of you haven’t even been dating for very long, it’s time to cut them loose.” She said, using her fingers to form a pair of scissors and cut the air.

This time it was Sumin’s turn to nod as she opened one of her many law books, keeping eye contact with Sowon.

“Good,” Sowon then propped her feet up on the table, “Now, wake me up when you’re done being a good noodle. I’m going to take advantage of the peace and quiet to catch up on some sleep.” She kindly stated, closing her eyes and finding a comfortable position.

Sumin couldn’t help but frown at Sowon’s disrespectful behavior, there was nothing she could do about it. Sowon seemed like the type to take any warnings that she received with a grain of salt. She simply did not care.

With a heavy sigh, as she shook her head, Sumin got out her favorite pair of headphones and scrolled through her many playlists until she found the one that said, “when studying at the library”. She lowered the volume, not wanting others to hear a muffled version of her songs, before pressing “shuffle”.

A soft hum escaped her lips as Sumin began jotting down some notes, making sure to cover every single topic about the case studies.

Now, while Sumin did that, Sowon had other plans. She honestly did not plan on taking a nap while the little sunshine studied. No. She had some important matters to attend.

Sowon peeked one eye opened and swiftly yet silently removed her feet off the table. Once again, Sumin’s absolute focus played to Sowon’s favor.

The gang leader waited a few more seconds, not wanting to seem suspicious to Sumin, before getting up. For added measure, she silently gestured towards the direction of Philosophy section of the library. Sumin nodded briefly before focusing her attention on her book once more.

Sowon smiled but soon dropped it once her back was turned towards Sumin.

“Alright...now where are you fellas hiding…?” She said softly with a cunning smirk painted on her gorgeous face.

Walking into the library a little deeper, it almost seemed like the bookshelves were slowly closing in on Sowon. The girl stopped for a second, looking over her shoulder, when suddenly someone jumped her from the side, his hand wrapped around her neck, pushing her up the shelf.

“Oh, hello Jinnie,” She said happily, knowing that he wouldn’t harm her, “That’s not how you say hello to your favorite leader.” Booping his nose, she continued her blinding smile, while the boy in front of her was almost hissing the next words.

“Why are you so fucking annoying?” Seokjin said as he instantly released his rough hold on Sowon, who then rolled her head around once, loosening up the muscles in her neck, “What did you tell the girl this time? Why can’t you let me get one fucking girl…just one!”

“Because you can’t keep it in your pants,” Sowon shrugged her shoulders and got out a book from the shelf to look at it nonchalantly. Pursing her lips, she quickly placed it back. Way too boring for her liking.

“And I want you to find a real girl…Sumin is too pure for you!” The leader said and leaned back against the shelf, “I won’t let you ruin her…so now, tell me...Where the fuck are the rest?! And did you get any new information on NCT! They are fucking getting on my nerves since they attacked us at the harbor. I don’t want to hide here forever. It’s getting fucking annoying.”

“You’ve been here for only a few days, Sowon!” Seokjin rolled his eyes, earning a slap from Sowon on his arm, “It’s crowded enough here, they wouldn’t come here. You’re safe until we know what’s really going on with the loser club.”

Sowon gawked, feeling a tad offended by his choice of words. Was this gorgeous fool seriously suggesting that she remained hidden, especially for her own safety?

That’s cute…

She’s the leader of the most infamous gang in South Korea, and to make it even more entertaining, Seokjin worked for her. Not the other way around.

With a devilish smirk, Sowon pushed herself off the bookcase and patted him on the shoulder.

“Well, you and the rest of the guys better hurry and find out because I’m getting bored, and I’m pretty damn sure that you don’t want me to get personally involved.” She whispered; the warmth from her breath lightly fanned Seokjin’s ear.

Seokjin’s body couldn’t help but shiver. A reaction that any men would do whenever came to his boss. She just had that type of affect. Seductive yet deadly. Two of the most dangerous traits that a women could have.

“You got it, boss…” He muttered as his line of focus followed Sowon, watching her hips sway back and forth. A soft scoff escaped his lips as he noticed every single men snap their heads towards her direction, secretly admiring her second best feature.

“Now, where’s my favorite princess…?” He thought with an amusing grin as he searched the library. Just because Sowon told him that Sumin was too pure for him, it didn’t mean that he would give up. After all, he always wanted to corrupt a sweet little angel.

Back with Sumin, her arms were going into overdrive. She flipped through every single book, looking for a specific court case. Her brows furrowed. Tiny crinkles formed on her forehead. Soft profanities escaped her lips as she searched and searched.

Where was that damn case?

Then, it hit her. As if someone drove a truck filled with bricks straight into her petite body.

Sumin hurriedly pushed away the books, and just as she reached out for the one she needed the most, she gasped. Her heart rate increased in speed. Her eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. Her breathing grew sporadic.

Who was this person that currently sat in front of her?

She quickly pushed down her headphones to the point that they now hung nicely around her neck.

“Uh...hi…?” Sumin said in a questioning tone. What? Just because she was scared, didn’t mean that she could forget her manners.

The intruder simply stared at her; his cold gaze pierced hers. It was if he tried to murder her with his gaze alone.

The person continued to stare with an emotionless expression written all over his face.

The more he stared, the more Sumin grew confused. The more she became confused, the more she became uncomfortable.

“So...um...what brings you to the library?” She asked with a nervous smile, trying to make small talk.

The unknown person simply looked at her. His mouth remained shut.

Well…

Until a certain roomie came into the picture.

“I honestly can’t leave you alone for more than ten minutes. Can I, little miss sunshine?” both Sumin and the stranger heard. The gang leader cocked her head to the side when she noticed who was sitting right in front of her roommate.

Why was everyone here?

Was anyone even taking care of the headquarters right now?

Sowon sighed inwardly, knowing that her boys were always a little lost and confused without her. Well, at least she could always count on her boyfriend. Standing right behind Yoongi, who focused his gaze back onto Sumin, staring at her coldly, she allowed her hands to rest on his shoulders.

“That’s Yoongi,” She introduced the other, “Don’t worry, he won’t flirt with you like ‘small dick’ Jin over there did. So don’t be scared.” Sowon winked at her playfully, loving the confused expression on her friends face.

“Since when do you leave little Jiminie alone, hm?” The leader directed the question at Yoongi, who shrugged his shoulders, seemingly uncaring, when Sowon knew exactly how much the other meant to him.

“So, did you learn something new already?” Sowon said when she didn’t get an answer from Yoongi. Her voice had been a little too loud as she earned herself a glare from the librarian. Leaning in a little more, Sowon let one of her hands glide down Yoongi’s chest. She had noticed the small chain around his neck. Yoongi never wore necklaces. He hated them.

Sowon’s eyes were focused on Sumin’s, while the rather innocent girl was gulping against the lump in her throat as she watched her dip down her hand in Yoongi’s shirt—who was still staring at her. How could she? Why did she? Didn’t she have a boyfriend? To say Sumin was utterly confused would have been an understatement.

Using the little confusion of Sumin where she tried to focus back on her book, Sowon wrapped her hand around a key that settled on Yoongi’s chest. With a quick tug it was off his neck and in her grip.

“Thanks, babe,” She whispered and ruffled the other’s hair, when out of the corner of her eyes, Sowon could see Seokjin appearing again, his eyes solely focused on Sumin. Oh, no….

It wasn’t the last time either, Seokjin was suddenly around a lot. Sowon saw him on her way to classes, in the library and basically everywhere she was with Sumin. Not because Seokjin wanted to protect his leader, but because of her roommate. If something happened he probably saved her first, and then...maybe...just maybe...if she got lucky….then Sowon would be saved. She laughed inwardly, imagining the scene in her mind. Not that she needed any saving.

What interested Sowon was that it was rare for the elder member of her little gang to be this smitten—practically obsessed—over someone he barely met. However, once Seokjin had found something he liked, he would never give up until he has claimed it. What made the journey even more exciting for him was that since he had noticed that Sowon would do anything and everything to protect her innocent little roommate, it merely aroused him. Not sexually, but something else. It stimulated his senses to know that Sowon had stopped every single of his attempts at contacting Sumin.

Oh, well…at least he got to keep a watchful eye on her...

Later that night, Sowon embraced Jungkook; her hold on him tightened as if she was afraid that he would leave. Almost every night Sowon sneaked out of the room again, most of the time through the window, meeting up with Jungkook somewhere. She just couldn’t stand to be apart for him for too long. Tracing the line’s of each tattoo on his arm, the features of his face, She could stare into his eyes forever.

“Did you get some more information?” Sowon sighed and leaned her head onto Jungkook’s chest, who had made himself comfortable, leaning against the brick wall. The wind was howling around them, making the woman scoot a little closer to seek the warmth of her boyfriend, but not before whining about the gun that made it uncomfortable to sneak closer to him. With a laugh, Jungkook took it out from his holster and placed it aside. He wouldn’t go anywhere without it.

“Yeah, we did,” Jungkook finally spoke up, playing mindlessly with her hair, “But they are good....we still don’t know how their leader looks like. They keep him hidden so well.”

“Maybe he’s just super ugly….” Sowon suggested with this snarky tone. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Jungkook said with a low chuckle, “We’re close. I can feel it.”

A sight of content left her lips as Sowon snuggled in Jungkook’s chest. Honestly, she wanted their intimate moment to last just a while longer. However, she looked at the bright side. The moment they put an end to NCT, the sooner she could return to the underworld life.

It was quite exhausting pretending to be a goody two-shoes all the fucking time...

Now climbing back through the window, Sowon sneaked under the covers of her bed quietly. Turning towards Sumin, she watched her roommate snore quietly, mumbling something in her sleep. A smile formed at the gang leader’s lips. It wouldn’t be too long until she had to say goodbye again.

A few hours later, Sowon, currently putting her hair up as she walked over to her bed, smiled. Why? Well, it’s because that she rarely got enough sleep due to these nightly tours that she had taken upon herself to do. As she neared the bed, she took the opportunity to literally jump into it. She was truly ecstatic to finally rest her tired body. She pulled up the covers, slowly embracing the comfortable warmth that it had to offer. She quickly found a good sleeping position as she closed her eyes. She relaxed both her body and mind.

Just as she felt the sleep slowly take control, she was suddenly shook awake by her roommate. Or...well… Sumin tried, because the second she touched Sowon, the other girl jumped up, switched her around, swung an arm around her neck to keep her in place. It took her a little while, being still half asleep, to notice that Sumin was trying to fight her grip.

“Oh, fuck,” Sowon exclaimed, “You can’t scare me like this!”

Sumin continued to squirm under Sowon’s iron grip. How was it possible that this woman was incredibly strong? She’s started to think that there was more to her roommate…

“I didn’t mean to! I just heard some strange noises outside, and I thought that maybe a burglar decided to choose our room as his or her target and—” Before she could continue her rambling, Sowon covered Sumin’s mouth with her free hand and told her to be quiet.

“I will let you go, but you have to stay here, got it?” Sowon demanded, keeping her eyes fixated on the window. She went full alert.

Being unable to talk, Sumin nodded as she breathed heavily through her nose. Sowon smiled and released her hold on Sumin’s arms.

“Good girl. Now, wait here. I’m going to check it out.” Sowon said quietly, patting Sumin on the head.

Sumin swatted Sowon’s hand away, though, was too late since Sowon was already out of reach.

Sowon quietly stepped towards the window; her hand gripped her phone tightly, ready to call for backup just in case things go south.

As she neared the window, Sowon crouched down, making sure her body was out of view. She continued her journey until her left hand touched the ledge. She slowly stood up, but her other half still remained in the crouched position.

The second her eyes stared out, Sowon smiled. This familiar gleam twinkled in her eye.

However, how was she going to sneak out? Sumin was now awake and a bit scared out of her mind.

Sowon glanced over her shoulder, establishing eye contact with Sumin briefly, before looking at her boys.

She focused her attention onto Jungkook and mouthed, “I’ll be right there.”

Even though he was on the first floor, and the dorm room was on the third floor, he got the jist of what his woman said. Having a great bond came in handy sometimes…

With a sigh of relief, Sowon stood up and dusted off the dirt of her pajama pants. The one time she actually did not plan on sneaking out.

Sumin eyed Sowon with nothing but curiosity. Her mind flooded with endless questions. Like, “who was outside?”

“Okay, I’m going to go out there.” Sowon said vaguely, alarming Sumin, as she quickly changed clothes. There was no way in Hell that she was going to sneak out in a loose top and pajama pants.

Minutes later, Sowon emerged. Now dawning black leather pants, biker boots, and a dark purple shirt, she walked back to the window, winking at Sumin as she glided past her.

Sumin’s mouth slightly parted but soon closed again. Her eyes followed Sowon’s movement as she once again opened her mouth to say something but soon closed it. It was if she wanted to tell her roomie to not leave since there could be dangerous people lingering around to prey on innocent women. Yet little did she know. Little...did...she...know…

Without a second thought, Sumin latched onto Sowon’s arm, just as the more confident woman had one foot out the window—literally.

Sowon’s brow cocked up as her eyes trailed down to Sumin’s hands.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t let you leave!”

A/N: Hi everyone! What did you guys think of this update?  I think Sumin is slowly having an inkling as to why Sowon sneaks out a lot, but knowing Sowon, she probably already has a lie concocted to deflect Sumin and her questions lol Also, what do you guys think of the appearance of BTS? :) I would’ve been startled if Yoongi were to do the same to me. Just throwing that out there. 

Anyway, stay tune for more updates and one crazy adventure! In regards to Our Second Chance, I will update that story when I can and/or feel the motivation to do so. Please be patient with me! ^^

Don’t forget to leave a comment/like/reblog/and an ask in mine or Jey’s inbox! We love hearing your thoughts!

- Kim

[cecilspeaks]

130 - A Story About Us

This is a story about us, said the man in the radio. And we were pleased, because we always wanted to hear about ourselves on the radio. Welcome to Night Vale. 

This is a story about us. We live in trailers out near the car lot, next to the house where the angels reside. We live in homes near a poorly secured library, hiding and shivering, fearing an escape. We live in apartments below heavy-footed neighbors. We live on streets, removing ourselves from a world that refuses to learn how to love us.

At night, we can see the red light blinking on and off on top of the radio tower. A tiny flurry of human activity against the implacable backdrop of stars and void. We sit out on the steps of our trailer, on the balcony of our apartment, on a bench in Mission Grove Park, on a tree swing in our yard. With our backs to the brightness of the moon, watching the radio tower for hours. But only sometimes. Mostly we do other things. This is a story about us.

We eat together in the Moonlite All-Nite Diner. One of us is philanthropist Thomas Charles Fleming, who once caught a hog and showed it to a local radio host, who happened to find hogs adorable, and just wanted to pet one and speak in high-pitched voices to it, and name it Gary or Dolores, and listen to its snorting breaths I order to feel alive. Especially on that particular day, where that radio host’s intern forgot to buy coffee. Anything to start the day with a charge.

Thomas Charles sits in the Moonlite All-Nite eating his skirt steak, and he begins to choke. We are alarmed, because we feel empathy. Selfish, selfish empathy. We feel our own necks (cease) up. We hold our hands to our own throats gently, choreographed mimickry, a moder dance around the themes of mortality, as Thomas Charles heaves forward gasping, his eyes bulging. We look to the OSHA-mandated choking assistance poster near the cash register. We begin to recite the instructions to each other and demonstrate the moves required to complete this life-saving (--) [0:04:34].

One of us, dinosaur expert Joel Eisenberg, stands and wraps his thin arms around Thomas Charles. Joel pulls his hands into a central fist under the victim’s sternum. Joel yanks his hand back and up, and we shout, “Harder!” and some of us shout, “Softer!” Thomas Charles thinks of the new Night Vale botanic gardens he created. His mind wanders to the pride he felt opening this cultural institution, and secretly, the guilt he feels about the frightening people he partnered with to fund it.

He knows he must warn us, but does not know about what, exactly. In dying, we often find that the lists of what must be done evaporate, and there is nothing left to be done, and there never was. Needing to do this was an illusion we built to keep ourselves busy.

We panic in our efforts to free Thomas Charles’ esophagus. One of us, Laura, a waitress in the diner, breaks off a heavy branch that is growing out of her hip, and begins poking Thomas Charles in the chest. We frantically fumble for our phones typing in “Heimlich Maneuver”, all unsure how to spell it. Some of us saying, “It’s H-I-E”, others saying, “H-E-I”, one of us even saying, “Manoeuver has an O in it somewhere, I’m sure of it”. We find an article headlined “Save a Choking Victim with One Surprising Move”, but become frustrated by the amount of pop-up windows.

Thomas Charles grabs a pen and a napkin and scrawles a single word. We argue about what exactly it says. “Maybe he wrote ‘swan pups’”, we say. “That’s not a word,” we reply. “What about ‘sound-roos’?” we interject as we stare at ourselves wondering who would think that made any sense. “You know, like children’s pyjamas made from audio frequencies,” one of us says. “It could work,” that same one says to the quiet room, then continuing: “as a technology startup, like an app on your phone that makes…” before trailing off, running out of words to protect the judgmental silence. “Oh it’s a great idea,” we all agree in order to ameliorate the situation. And we pat Thomas George on the back to congratulate him on his multimillion dollar idea of audio-only children’s sleepware. We think for a moment that it is this companionable swat of the choking man’s ribs that will finally free the steak from his throat. We have read enough short stories to know that this is a sensible narrative resolution, requiring an unforeseen solution to an impossible problem. And given that we are hearing our story on the radio, we know that this is the perfect culmination of a tale about a collective we, a coming together, a climactic comradery.

But it does not work. Thomas Charles sinks to his knees, eyes wet and resolved. In the commotion of choking hazards, clickbait, and startup dreams, we fail to notice two men who have entered the diner. One is not tall. One is not short. They are not part of us, so we know that this story is not about them. The one who is not short moves Joel Eisenberg aside and then grabs Thomas Charles’ shoulders. The one who is not tall punches Thomas Charles in the stomach, as a piece of beef shoomps out of his mouth, a rope of spit and a soft weeze tailing it. the piece of unchewed meat arcs perfectly into a waste basket, and we cheer. These strangers saved a man we barely knew. Thomas Charles inhales loudly and finally shouts, “It says ‘stone crops’. Stone crops!” “Shut up,” says the man who is not tall. “Come outside,” says the man who is not short. “Please,” Thomas Charles pleads. “I’m sorry I told them about stone crops.” “Everyone is sorry you did that,” says the not-short man. “This is not how I wanted to spend my day,” says the not-tall man. We hear the radio describe two men of indistinct heights, walking another man out of the Moonlite All-Nite. We hear the man on the radio describe a muffled pop of a handgun from the parking lot, the slamming of a trunk, and the fading Doppler effect of a vehicle speeding away.

We sit in our booths, poking hashbrowns with spoons, imagining we heard a car backfiring instead. We leave the diner and find a blood stain on the asphalt by our truck, or our sedan, or our motorcycle, and we pretend it is a spilled drink.

Let’s have a look at the Community Calendar. Last Saturday at noon, we all went to the Botanic Gardens, for the opening of the new exhibit called (Sedum Fields). One of us who is a dosent at the gardens named Halla Darwish, explained to us that these succulent plants are excellent for private gardens, as they are affordable, easy to maintain, beautiful, and require little water. Sedum are often referred to as “stone crops”, Halla tells us before it means anything. She then thanked Thomas George Fleming and an anonymous benefactor for funding the Botanic Gardens.

On Monday, we attended an emergency press conference at the site of City Hall, where no mayor currently presides. Before an empty mic, reporters asked questions and then tried to transcribe the occasional sounds of wind and crickets onto their notepads. One of us, Pamela Winchell, uncharacteristically tamped down her usual bluster and allowed someone else to speak for her, in this case the incidental sounds of nature.

On Tuesday, we took a longer than usual lunch break to go look again at the Sedum Fields exhibit at the Botanic Gardens, and we saw the sunny summer blooms, which are elongated pink tubes billowing at the top, looking ready to burst. But in the middle, there are asymmetrical bulges, like small crouching humans inside. A dosent who was not Halla Darwish, and who was not any of us, and who was neither tall nor short, told us to look at another plant. These were not for us. As we got back into our vehicles, cranberry spinach salads with sesame vinaigrette only half eaten, we caught a glimpse of this new dosent plucking the unopened blooms and placing them gently into crates. We heard one of us on the radio say this aloud, as we scattered back to our desks and counters and warehouses and trucks and kitchen.

This has been… a… oops. That was last week’s Community Calendar. Well, this has been Community History.

Disturbed by the presence of the men who carry crates, who possibly kill philanthropist hog catchers, and who hurry us through our garden visits, we anxiously eat our daily meals. Absent-mindedly do our jobs and mutter angrily during showers about our own inaction in the face of brutality by those who are not us. “We are people of action. This is a story about us,” we say aloud in unison from our couches. We stand and walk and look at each other in the streets and join hands. We join hands and sing. We sing “Angel is a Centerfold”, because some of us had just attended a minor league baseball game and could not rid themselves of the sexist earworm. We walk past the Scrublands and the Sand Wastes to the edge of the desert, and we surround a cargo truck filled with crates. There are two men, neither tall nor short. They do not move.

One of us, who is a sheriff named Sam, places the men under arrest for the murder of Thomas Charles Fleming. The man who is not tall says, “He was not the man you thought he was.” The man who is not short says, “Do they still have HBO in the abandoned mine shaft out of town?” “This is not a story about you,” we shout. “This is a story about us.” Sam places the two handcuffed men into a white police car with “Undercover Police” with bold lettering across the sides, and a stylized rhinoceros holding a night stick painted on the hood. We turn to each other and celebrate with smiles and eye contact. Diane Crayton tells Nazr al-Mujaheed: “We saved our town.” Nazr groans and does not respond. He has talked little in recent months. Susan Willman tells Simone Rigideaux: “What a happy ending.” Amber Akini tells Wilson Levy: “This is a better world now, Wilson. For our son.” She pats her belly, and Wilson begins to cry. Steve Carlsberg, who can sometimes be a killjoy, but whose intuition is not often wrong, says: “Look! The truck!”

We look at the truck. “This is not a story about a truck,” we say, as six-foot-long pink blooms burst from tiny crates. They stumble and squirm, like humans swaddled in plastic wrap, toward us, under a clear predictable afternoon sky and in the face of terror.

The last thing on our minds is the weather.

[“Space and Time” by Joseph Fink]

The protagonist of a story must have agency, must use their skills against their antagonist. This is a story about us, and so we actively confront our predicament.

Nilanjana Sikdar attempts to communicate with the beings. They make no noise. Pamela Winchells shouts at them through a bullhorn, but they do not react. Josh Crayton changes his physical form into a great white shark, but they show no fear. And he finds it hard to breathe on land, so changes back into a hummingbird. Henrietta Bell throws her co-worker, Sarah Sultan, who is a fist-sized river rock, at the creatures but they do not flinch. 16-year-old Tamika Flynn loads a crossbow with an explosive-tipped arrow, and we question our lackadaisical weapons laws in this state.

Overwhelmed, we back against each other, surrounded by the writhing featureless beasts. A flower monster reaches out, its arms stretching, elastic under the petals and touches former mayor Dana Cardinal. Another touches Harrison Kip, and another touches Leann Hart, just as she reaches for the hatchet she keeps in a waste holster.

The top of the flower opens up, and inside it is you. Yes, specifically you. We all recall many years ago, there once was a story about you, right here on this radio station. Now your eyes are open, but empty. Your face swollen and teeth shattered in places. Part of your right ear is gone. And we remember you died in that story. We all felt bad. But here you are, again, inside a flower, staring crooked and blank at our screaming faces. Another flower opens, and another broken face of someone who once lived in Night Vale. And another, and another. And as the last flower opens, the face of Thomas Charles Fleming emerges, his head split right where his hair once parted. This lips in the final hiss of an S, like a man whose last word was “stone crops”.

Sheriff Sam returns with the two men and releases them from their handcuffs, ordering them to take those monstrosities away from here and then come back to be arrested. The men gently lift each writhing bloom into the back of the cargo truck. They say nothing. We ask: “Who are you?” They say nothing. “What are these crates?” They say nothing. “These are people you have killed.” They pause briefly, but say nothing. “Are the crates always filled with bodies which are also flowers?” The men shake their heads no. The man who is not short says, “We are only doing our job.” “And what is your job?” we ask. “We handle the crates,” says the one who is not tall. “Are you hiring?” says Trish Hidge, who recently lost her job at City Hall. “The Botanic Gardens are closed to the public,” the not-short man says. “It is better that no one involve themselves with this,” the not-tall man says. They climb into the truck and drive away with their broken crates and human flowers.

We look at each other, relieved to know we completed another day, alive and together, but bereft of solutions or answer. “We have defeated gods!” we say. “And dragons!” we say. “And librarians!” we say. “And despotic corporate overlords!” we say and kind of high five each other about that one in particular. “But these men,” Missy Wilkes says. “Maintenance men,” Leann Hart says, already writing a story in her head. “Mafia,” Sheriff Sam suggests. “They’re kind of cute,” Michelle Nguyen says, as her girlfriend Maureen nods in agreement. “Not everyone gets to know everything,” we tell ourselves. “We have limitations,” we say, stumbling upon a new truth. “And when we know what we cannot know, we can believe whatever we want.” “Flower mafia,” Sheriff Sam insists. “Cancer is actually more inexplicable and frightening than those men,” Lorelai Alvarez says from great and terrible experience. And we sigh and, yeah, collectively nod. Culminating in a town-wide understanding that we not only touched the sky, but pushed against it. We know more about what we cannot know, and we are less afraid, even if we are still quite afraid. But in a productive, positive way. Like knowing not to put hornets in your mouth. We learned this, all together. Tough luck about you, though. Hope you’re doing OK at the gardens, I mean it didn’t look like you were, but we do wish you the best.

We walk to our homes, turn on our radios and hide. And we listen to a familiar voice say: “This has been a story about us.”

And we are pleased, because we always wanted to hear about ourselves on the radio.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Anything is a piñata if you hit it hard enough.

[hashtagyourshirt]

im not sure if youre still doing prompts but if you are then maybe a supercorp au where they broke up to protect one another (dumb) but that doesnt stop the ugly feelings of jealousy when they see someone else flirting with the other. so i guess how they each handle their jealousy and maybe how they move forward from it??

It’d been one month since Supergirl and Lena called it quits on their relationship. Not because they wanted to, not because they didn’t burn with desire every single moment they were around each. No. The broke up to protect each other. 

What was hardest for Kara to handle, apart from not being able to be the one with Lena, was having to help her through her break up with Supergirl. That was another reason Kara felt it best for Supergirl and Lena to break up their short lived romance: Kara didn’t know how to tell Lena the truth.  

So here she was, on her way to meet Lena for lunch, not doubt to console her friend while she talks about her break up with Supergirl again. 

At least Kara was certain Lena wasn’t over her. 

She waved a silent hello to Lena, who was on the phone at her desk, when Kara walked into the L Corp office. She dropped the bag of take out from Noonan’s (one cob salad without egg, dressing on the side for Lena, and a double order of the “Heart Attack Burger” with extra cheese fries and a sticky bun for Kara) on the coffee table near the pair’s favorite spot: the couch. 

Kara took her time pulling each item out of the bag as she tried to not listen in to Lena’s conversation. 

“Yes,” Lena chirped, smiling but clearly trying to end the conversation. “I think an investment from the Kane family would certainly change the way the public views L Corp. Yes. Yes. Great, drinks at 8 sounds perfect. Goodbye.” Lena hung up her desk phone, finally turning to Kara with a wide smile. “Sorry about that,” she offered as she made her way to Kara and their lunch. 

“No worries,” Kara replied, offering her own small smile. “I uh,” she readjusted her glasses, “couldn’t help but over hear you making some big plans tonight?” 

Lena smiled deviously. “Mmm,” she mused. “With Kate Kane, heiress to the Kane fortune.”

“Heiress,” Kara scoffed. “Not really your type, huh.”

“Well,” Lena said, leaning back against the couch. “She did attend West Point, top of her class. Now she’s a private investigator, when she’s not working on her music.”

Kara furrowed her brow angrily at this. Lena is moving on? With some beautiful, rich, strong tough gal type! 

“Wow,” Kara breathed, taking a fry to buy some time. “She sounds…wow,” she huffed, chowing down on another fry. 

“Kara,” Lena drawled. “Are you jealous?” Lena’s smile spread wide across her face. 

Kara reddened, shoving an entire fist full of cheese fries in her mouth with little to no grace. “Wah? Mo.” Kara swallowed thickly. “Why would you think I’m jealous?” 

They made unwavering eye contact for what felt like the first time since Supergirl and Lena had broken up. God, she’s so beautiful. 

“It’d be okay if you were,” Lena practically breathed. 

Kara breath caught in her throat. Before she knew what she was doing, she was moving forward, bringing her lips to meet Lena’s. She felt Lena melt against her, moving her lips slowly against Kara’s. 

Kara pulled away, already muttering her apologies. “I’m so sorry, Lena. I don’t know what came over me.” She made to stand, but was caught by Lena’s hand on her arm. 

“Don’t apologize,” Lena whispered. Kara turned to Lena, still in Lena’s delicate grasp. “God, I’ve missed you, Kara.” Lena brought her free hand to Kara’s glasses, pulling them off and dropping them on the table next to them where their meals sat forgotten. 

“You know?” Kara questioned, wanting to fidget with the frames no longer on her face. 

Lena nodded. “I do. It didn’t take long to figure out after Supergirl and I, after we broke up,” she swallowed, and took both of Kara’s hands in her own now. “I just put the pieces together, and once I did, I realized how amazingly stupid I was to let you go.”

Kara’s heart was thudding in her chest at Lena’s words. She’d missed Lena so much, but thought she was doing the right thing by ending things, especially since Lena didn’t know her true identity. But now that Lena knew everything, Kara was at an utter loss for any reason why they shouldn’t be together now. 

“Lena,” she dared, gripping Lena’s hands back. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I’m sorry that I ended things. I knew I shouldn’t have hurt you so much. God, I hurt so much–” 

Kara’s rambling was cut off by Lena’s lips back on hers. Kara deepened the kiss instantly, wrapping her arms around Lena, pulling her impossibly close. 

They broke apart for air after what felt like several lifetimes, resting their foreheads against each other. 

“I am never letting you go again, Lena,” Kara breathed, running her fingers through Lena’s hair, needing to feel all of her to make up for lost time. 

“You better not,” Lena teased relishing in the feeling of Kara on her skin again. “Take us home.”

“You read my mind,” Kara said with a smile shining in her eyes. “Go grab your things and I’ll fly us.” With a quick kiss, they separated so Lena could grab her cell phone. She clicked out two texts: one to Jess, letting her know that she was leaving for the day and is not to be disturbed, and one to Kate Kane.

Lena: It worked! 

Kate Kane: Glad I could help.

With that, Lena nearly ran into Kara’s arms on her balcony and they took off in the air towards Kara’s apartment, where they planned to spend the long weekend making up for lost time between them. 

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 041 [The Bakugo Family]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,984

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“So raise your glass if you are wrong in all the right ways. All my underdogs, we will never be never be anything but loud. And nitty-gritty, dirty little freaks, won’t you come on and raise your glass.” P!nk, “Raise Your Glass”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

Momo glanced at me with a nervous smile as we walked down the hallway. “Do you know what agency you’re gonna choose?”

I went to reply but stopped myself. If I tell her that I don’t know any of these heroes, it might raise too many questions that I’m too lazy to make up lies to. “Not a fucking clue. What about you?”

“I’m thinking about choosing Uwabami. She sent me an offer.”

“She sounds like a fucking thot, but ‘kay.”

She chuckled. “You always speak your mind. I like that about you.”

“Most people hate it. Just ask Aizawa.”

“Do you mind… if I call you Jen?”

“Eh?” I looked at her in surprise. Why is she askin’ me that? It’s not like I asked her if I could use her first name. I just did it because her last name gives me a fucking headache.

“S-Sorry!” She apologized, waving her hands frantically. “It’s totally okay if you don’t want me to!”

“I don’t mind. I was just surprised you asked.”

“Oh, I see!” Her face brightened and she clapped her hands together. “Thank you!” I don’t really get why it made her so happy, but I sent her a smile, listening to her talk about various things as we made our way into the cafeteria to get our food before sitting down at a deserted table near the center of the room. “I’m planning on going shopping this weekend, would you like to come with me?”

“Ew,” My nose wrinkled as I stabbed a chicken nugget with my fork. Yes, I am a literal child. “I hate shopping. Especially for clothes.”

Her smile faltered, a bead of sweat rolling down her cheek. “A-Ah, I thought so, but I wanted to ask. What do you like, then? We’ve been classmates for a while, but… I don’t really know anything about you.”

“Tacos,” I responded instantly.

“That’s the one thing I definitely know,” she laughed. “Other than tacos?”

I scratched my cheek thoughtfully. What do I like? “Let’s see… Dr. Pepper is pretty dope. Cats are adorable as fuck. Video Games are fun, especially racing games. And, uhh… that’s it, I guess.”

She frowned, cupping her chin. “That’s not much to work with… I suppose I could ask father to turn guest room G into a gaming room.”

My eye twitched, the chicken nugget falling from my fork. Oh, honey, no no no. Momo, don’t tell me… you’re a rich bitch?! Well, I guess she doesn’t really act like one, though. At least I don’t get any Regina George vibes from her. Oh wait, maybe that’s why Reggian is so bitchy because his name is Regina. Heh, get rekt.

Momo continued to ramble on, clearly excited about the idea of a new project where she gets to design a gaming room. She also mentioned something about a cat cafe, but she was back to the game room before I could interject my thoughts. Well, as long as she’s happy, I guess.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Hmm? Who the fuck would be texting me right now? If Toshi or Zawa needed something, they know where I am. Maybe it’s that lazy ass Katsuki. Oh, no, he’s on the other side of the room yelling at Kirishima about something. Curious, I pulled the phone from my pocket, holding it under the table so I didn’t offend Momo. It was a new message from an unknown number. I wonder how wrong this can go.

✉ ‘If you want to learn the truth about your mother, choose Caraphernelia’s Hero Agency.’

My eyes narrowed. Because that’s not suspicious as fuck is it? I replied, ‘Who tf is this?’

✉ ‘I’m an old friend of your mother :)’

I scoffed quietly. This has to be a prank, right? It doesn’t seem like something Tosh or Zawa would do though, and Katsuki is the only other one that knows about my mom…

✉ ‘I can tell you all of her deepest, darkest secrets, one even All Might doesn’t know~ After all, some things a girl can only tell to her female friends, you know?’

✉ ‘You do want to learn about your mother and who you are… right?’

“Jen, is something wrong? You look kind of pale…” Momo frowned, reaching her hand out for my forehead. “You don’t have a fever,”

“Ah, yeah…” A bead of sweat rolled down my cheek as I stood up, clearing my throat. “I’m feeling a bit, uhh, closed in so I’m gonna get some fresh air.”

“Do you want me to accompany you?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Finish eating, I’ll see ya in a bit.” I smiled, patting her shoulder before dumping my tray and heading from the room. Man~ what the fuck is with this shit? I don’t have the mental capacity to make my own decisions. Pretty sure I proved that multiple times in my life.

Like that one time when a rat got into my house when I was a kid. The neighbor’s cat followed it inside, still have no fucking idea how, and it had the poor thing cornered. Now, being an animal sympathizer, naturally my dumbass picked it up barehanded and got the shit bit out of my hand. Blood everywhere. Gramps was not happy.

Then there was the whole code name picking thing. That didn’t go over too well, but it’s not my fucking fault. Decisions are hard.

I rubbed my head in frustration. I do want to know more about my mom, though. I feel like… it’ll give me some closure or some shit. Right now, it kinda feels like the puzzle of my life up to this point is missing some pieces that can only be filled in with more info about her. What if this bitch actually knows why my mom decided to become a hero? What about my dad? Does this bitch have any idea who he might be?

I knew I would regret this, but before my brain could question my idiotic decision, I typed my reply, ‘I’ll do it.’

The dots appeared on the screen, indicating that a message was being typed. A minute passed by. Two. Five. My eye twitched. If this bitch don’t –

✉ ‘Is a burger a salad? What about cereal, is it a soup? Is cake really just a lasagna?’

What the fuck kinda drugs is this bitch taking?! This is why you don’t lick mushrooms, kids. Or frogs. Please don’t lick frogs.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Oi, tiger.”

I glanced over my shoulder, pausing just outside the school gate. “Yo, Katsuki~”

He didn’t stop walking, his shoulder bumping into mine as he passed by. “You’re coming over for dinner tonight.”

“Pretty sure I’m not,” I stuffed my hands into my pockets as I followed after him. “Pops says I’m not allowed to eat at stranger’s houses anymore.”

He ignored me, a scowl on his face. “My old hag won’t stop bitching at me about meeting you. I mentioned you one fucking time when you cheated at Needy Speedy and she won’t let it the fuck go.”

“I did not cheat, you just suck,” I responded. ��And that honestly sounds like a you problem, so~ good luck with that.”

“My dad is making you tac -”

“Why the fuck didn’t you start with that, bro?” I threw my arm around his shoulder with a grin, feeling my stomach growling at the thought.

“You’re fucking pathetic,” he deadpanned.

“Oh? Are we stating the obvious now? I love that game! My turn – you’re part chihuahua.”

“I’m not a fucking dog, you bitch!!”

I winched, pulling away and rubbing my poor ear. “I think my ear is bleeding…”

“Good!”

“You’re paying for my medical bills, chief.”

“Like hell I am! Go to hell!”

“I visit hell every summer. It’s a bit too warm for my tastes, but the people are pleasant.”

Katsuki groaned, slamming his hand to his face. “I hate you so goddamn much.”

“Love you, too, buddy.”

“Do not say that around my old hag! She’ll get the wrong idea!”

“Sure, sure.”

We finally arrived at his house and stepped inside, kicking our shoes off inside the doorway. Within seconds, a woman’s voice echoed throughout the house, sounding quite angry. “Damn it, Katsuki!! I told you to clean your room before you left for school this morning!” A woman rounded the corner and I swear on Wade Wilson, this woman looked like someone copy and pasted Katsuki but made him older and gave him tits. “Your teacher also called and told me that you didn’t choose a hero name yet! Knowing you, you probably chose something stupid and it got rejected!”

“Hah?! It wasn’t stupid, it was fucking brilliant!”

“Don’t you raise your voi -! Oh, hello.” Her voice immediately softened when her vermillion eyes landed on me, a bright smile replacing the annoyed expression. “I never thought I’d live to see the day my idiot son brought a friend home!” She clapped her hands together.

“I only brought her because you wouldn’t stop bitching about it!”

She grabbed the top of his head and forcefully shoved him down. “Don’t be rude! Introduce us!”

“You have mouths, don’t cha? Introduce your damn self, you hag!”

I laughed. Bro, watching these two go at it is like watching a pomeranian and a chihuahua barking at each other and slapping their paws on the ground! This is comedy feckin’ gold right here. I should film this… I can’t believe Katsuki is such a momma’s boy. This is perfect fucking blackmail, yo. “I’m Jen Winchester, Katsuki’s classmate, and best friend. I’m also the one that always beats him at video games.”

“You don’t beat me at shit!” He snapped angrily. “And don’t go declaring yourself my best friend, dumbass!”

Her eyes shined brightly. “It’s so nice to meet you, my name is Mitsuki Bakugo, Katsuki’s mother. Please come in, make yourself at home!”

I followed her into the living room, setting my bag down on the floor in front of the couch before sitting down. There were two brown couches facing each other, with a coffee table between them. Reminds me of the lounges at school.

“Do you drink tea?”

Katsuki scoffed, falling onto the couch across from me. “This dumbass only drinks cold tea.”

“Stop being rude, you little shit!” She snapped angrily before smiling at me. “I’ll bring you some iced tea, then!”

I waited until she was out of sight before turning to the blonde with a grin. “Your mom is cool as fuck.”

His eyes narrowed. “Do not tell her that, her head is big enough as it is.”

“Pretty sure that’s you, but okay.”

She returned a few moments later holding a tray in one hand and a large book in the other. Setting the tray down on the table, she set a glass of iced tea in front of me before giving herself and her son a cup of steaming tea. She settled down beside me, the navy blue book on her lap. The words ‘Photo Album’ was printed in gold, bold lettering in the top right corner.

Katsuki groaned at the sight of it. “Why the fuck are you like this?!”

“Because I’m your mother! It’s my job as a parent to embarrass my son.” She chirped happily before opening the book. “It’s nice to finally have someone to show these to!”

The first two pages contained pictures of her at the hospital, looking tired and sweaty, her skin glowing as she looked down at the newborn baby in her arms with a proud look on her face.

“Even as a newborn, he had a shitty look on his face.” She informed me with a smile. “The nurse was worried that we had given him a lemon!”

I laughed at that. “Gotta hand it to ’em, he’s consistent if nothing else.”

“That’s true!” She continued to flip through the pages, showing me pictures from his first few years of life. Pictures of him in the sandbox, him at the beach, him wearing an All Might onesie – oh my fucking god that’s adorable. I noticed a couple pictures of him and Izuku, but I chose not to comment on them.

My eyes fell on one image in particular. It was him and Zuku in the park playing soccer together. They looked around three or four years old and they looked… happy together. My brow furrowed as I took in their innocent expressions. From this picture, they look like they were pretty good friends back then. I know people grow apart, but… is it really that simple? I know Zuku still cares about Katsuki, but does he feel the same way somewhere deep down?

“This one was taken the day his quirk manifested. He started to act so smugly after that.” She pointed to a picture of Katsuki standing outside his preschool, small explosions appearing in his palm. He definitely looked smug in that picture. “Oh and look at this one! He had just gotten this All Might figure and bath bomb and he wanted to try them out. So cute, don’t you think?”

“D-Don’t fucking show her that!” Katsuki jumped up, throwing his hands over the page, his cheeks and ears turning red.

She scowled at him. “And why not? A best friend should know these things!”

“S-She’s not my best friend, you damn hag!”

“You’re going to hurt her feelings! Apologize!”

“I’d rather die!”

“That can be arranged!!”

I watched them argue back and forth, sipping my tea in amusement. The front door opened and closed, followed by a soft-spoken male voice, “I’m back.” A kind-looking man with spikey brown hair and eyes framed by black, square glasses stepped into the living room, several plastic bags in his hands.

Mitsuki smiled brightly, setting the album on the table before approaching him and taking the bags from his left hand. “This is my husband, Masaru.”

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled, rubbing his free hand on his jeans before holding it out to me.

I stood up, slipping my hand into his. “You, too. My name’s Jen Winchester, Katsuki’s classmate.”

Katsuki’s vermillion eyes snapped to me and narrowed, but he remained quiet, now sitting on top of the photo album.

“You’re staying for dinner, right?” Masaru questioned softly. “Katsuki said you love tacos, so we’ll be having them for dinner.”

I instantly nodded with a wide grin. “Yes, thank you for having me!”

He chuckled, sending me a closed-eye smile before following his wife into the kitchen.

Katsuki’s still glaring at me. “What did I do this time?”

He grunted, folding his arms over his chest. “You didn’t introduce yourself as my best friend, idiot.”

“Oh, you’re right. Lemme fix that,” I started toward the kitchen but he grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me backward with a groan.

“Get your fucking bag, we’re going upstairs before she gets the second album.”

“There’s a second album?”

“There’s ten…”

“Oh lawd,” I did as he asked, following him up the stairs and into his room, which was pretty basic surprisingly. A double bed sat against the back wall under the window, while a desk sat against the left wall, holding some books and a laptop. Various weights and dumbells littered the floor on the right, and several pieces of dirty clothes were scattered across the room. “Katsuki, why is there a sock on the ceiling fan?”

“I threw it at the old hag and it missed.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you don’t play basketball, huh.”

“Fuck off.”

Directly to the right of the door was a flat-screen TV with a gaming system and a stack of games that were tilted slightly to the left. In the center of the room was a low, square table.

“It’s actually not as messy as I figured it would be,” I commented, plopping down onto his bed and grabbing the remote off the bedside table.

He rolled his eyes, flopping down at the table with his back to the bed. “Did you choose yet?”

I paused my channel flipping, glancing at him as he looked over his offers. “Actually, yeah.” Pulling my phone from my pocket, I pulled up the messages and rested the device on his shoulder.

He was quiet as he read them, but then his face twisted into a scowl. “You’re such a dumbass. You’re not fucking choosing this bitch, it’s obvious it’s a scam.”

“I mean, probably.” I scratched my cheek, ignoring his look. “But if there’s a small chance it’s not, I can finally get answers, ya know?”

“Or you could fucking die.”

I grinned, leaning forward to poke his cheek. “D’aww, does Katsuki care about me~?”

He smacked my hand away and turned his head, but the tips of his ears were turning pink. “As if! I don’t give a fuck what you do!”

“What about you? Who are you choosing?” I hummed.

“The number four hero, Best Jeanist.” He grinned. “I’m gonna use him to reach the top!”

“Best Jeanist? The fuck is wrong with you people and your shitty hero names?”

His eyes narrowed. “My fucking names were great!”

I chuckled, raising the remote again only to pause as something caught my attention. I upped the volume on the TV and the news anchor’s voice filled the room, “Just a few days earlier, pro hero Ingenium was left mortally wounded after facing off against the infamous hero killer in Hosu city. To date, the hero killer has killed seventeen pro heroes and left twenty-three hurt beyond recovery. His current whereabouts are unknown, but police are -”

I muted the TV, swallowing hard. “O-Oi, ain’t Ingenium Iida’s older brother?”

“Yeah…” he breathed out, his wide eyes meeting mine.

“The hero killer… Stain…”

“He’s the one that killed your mom, didn’t he?”

“That’s what I was told, yeah.” I muttered. “This explains why Iida’s been acting so fucking weird. I think Izuku is right to be worried…”

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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[dcbbw]

WIP Wednesday (11/20/19)

Thanks for the tags @ao719​ and @sirbeepsalot​! 

In addition to my WIP list (I may be down to 20 fics/WIPs there), 4 Riams, Driam, and Drake x Hana, I am also working on the fics below. Everything is subject to change...they are WIPs, after all. :) 

Cold Heat (It will eventually be foursome smut)

Liam’s eyes glanced over at Drake, frustration and a touch of wonder in them. Drake, so tall and brooding and….sexy. His denim shirt had a couple of the top buttons undone, offering a peek of muscled skin and hints of curly chest hair.

“I’m in”, Riley replied, her eyes still on Liam. Liam’s eyes snapped back to Riley.

“Where are you going?” Liam asked curiously.

“To find some food! We’re going to raid the kitchen, and then the wine cellar.” Drake answered briefly.

Liam wore a look of confusion. “Was dinner insufficient in some way?” He looked around at the trio.

“That bitch didn’t feed us. The three of us had to split a bowl of lukewarm soup!” The words burst angrily from Hana.

“The Duchess would do no such thing. All of the sponsoring houses know that they need to show hospitality to all of the participants!” Liam protested.

“Look, the entire court knows by now Liv is creaming her panties to suck your dick and have your babies. Tonight, she proved she was snobbish and desperate. Fuck her and fuck Lythikos. We’re getting our dinner and our wine. With or without her permission. You can stand here and defend her ass, or you can join us.”

Drake began walking away from the group, headed to the exit. With one last look at Liam and Riley, Hana quickly followed him.

It was just Liam and Riley left. Riley arched an eyebrow as a smirk curved her lip.

“Have a good evening, Your Highness.” She slipped out of her heels and ran after her friends.

Getting Well (Maxwell x Kiara)

Kiara burrowed herself under her bedcovers. She was home, sick. She wasn’t sure if she just had a really bad cold or the flu; all she knew was she felt like death. Kiara had a fever, but was constantly chilly. Her throat was so sore it felt raw. She had congestion from her head to her chest. She had a terrible cough, and horrible coughing spells.

She was home alone, except for staff. Her parents were in Geneva for a Summit Council meeting and her brother, Ezekiel had taken Penelope out for a date night. Kiara had just found the perfect spot in her bed when there was a knock on her bedroom door. She rolled her eyes at the intrusion. It’s probably staff checking on me.

“Come in”, she croaked weakly.

The door opened slowly, almost hesitantly. Kiara kept the covers over her head; she couldn’t muster the energy to move. She waited for her visitor to announce themselves, certain it was the majordomo, Eduardo.

“Ki?” The voice was uncertain.

Kiara’s bleary eyes flew open. Maxwell! What is HE doing here? I feel like shit and look even worse. He can’t see me like this!

Gobble Gobble (A Thanksgiving Collective) 

Dralivia

“What do you miss most about America?” Olivia asked as her tongue licked his nipple.

Drake chuckled softly before Olivia’s tongue elicited a moan from him. “You act as if I came from America yesterday. You do know I have been in Cordonia most of my life?”

“Still, there must be something or even some things you miss about it.” Olivia wrapped her arms around Drake’s waist.

Drake’s arm was draped around Olivia’s shoulder; his fingers traced light circles on her upper arm. The firelight basked him in a warm glow. He looked golden in the semi-darkness. He pursed his lips as he thought.

“Hmmmm…I guess I miss American holidays the most. Especially 4th of July and Thanksgiving.”

“Tell me about them”, Olivia requested in a soft voice. The warmth from both the fireplace and Drake’s body was making her drowsy.

Laxwell

“I need food to keep her attention!” Maxwell protested. “Betty loves food. And reptiles and scorpions.”

Liam looked at Maxwell, an expression of disbelief on his face. “Fresh out of scorpions and reptiles”, he said sarcastically.

“We can just sit here until she falls asleep. It’s almost time for her nap.” Max stretched out on the bed, his head falling back against the pillows.

Liam was still watching Betty suspiciously. “Can she climb up here?”

“Naw, the dais makes the bed too high for her.”  Maxwell pulled out his phone. He scrolled some, then spoke.

“Did you know today is American Thanksgiving?”

“Why would I know that?” Liam inched up on the bed; Betty followed him, her eyes never leaving his.  

Betty screeched. Liam jumped.

“We should celebrate!” Maxwell declared.

“We’re not American, and we should’ve known about the holiday we don’t celebrate but you suddenly want to celebrate long before now. It involves lots of food, which requires preparation.”

“It’s just as well, I guess. You know Bigfoot comes out on Thanksgiving night.”

Riam

She sat down to review her menu; Liam kissing her temple before handing her a glass of water tore her eyes away from the paper. She leaned her body into his, her head resting briefly against his upper arm. He felt strong and warm; she felt blessed to be the one allowed to lean on him.

Liam read over her shoulder, his eyes widening in surprise and darkening in disappointment at the menu: fried shrimp, crab cakes, turkey, ham, dressing, homemade gravy, potato salad, candied sweet potatoes, green beans, corn on the cob, and biscuits. Desserts were a variety of pies, and a devil’s food cake, Riley’s favorite.

“That’s…that’s a lot!” he exclaimed. “And very…American.”

“That’s nothing! And what do you expect from an American holiday except American food?”

“I thought we could incorporate some traditional Cordonian dishes….”

“Those godawful sour potatoes or that fish stew you love that I can’t stand?” Riley fussed. “This is my custom, Liam! My tradition! You do what you want with yours.”

“Riley….” Liam began. He was quickly interrupted.                          

“You know what? Get out of my kitchen! RIGHT NOW! Go find someone to play with while I take care of dinner.” Riley pointed her finger towards the door.

With a sigh of defeat, the King went in search of Maxwell as his Queen and ladies of staff prepped and cooked away.

DC AU Gang (8 years ago)

Riley watched the exchange with jealousy and resignation. When she first saw Liam two years ago, her heart had leapt into her throat. She had never seen a man as gorgeous as Liam; he put models and actors to shame. Or maybe not. Riley’s taste in men sometimes left some things to be desired. But in Riley’s eyes, Liam was perfect: tall, dark hair, beautiful features, humorous, kind, intelligent….Riley could write a list for days about his Liam qualities.

Which is why she knew she would never stand a chance with him. She was tall, curvy with some chubbiness, her hair didn’t flow down her back. She could be loud and brash and didn’t dumb herself down. Men like Liam…..they wanted the exact opposite of Riley Brooks.

So Riley didn’t even try with Liam. She kept everything neutral and friendly, keeping her interest in him at bay. They were friends, and she wanted to keep that at least. One thing about Riley Brooks, she knew to stay in her lane.

But now, watching him flirt with Teresa…..she wanted to be more than friends. She wanted Liam to flirt with her, she wanted Liam to lift his lips in that smirk while looking at her.

Why are you thinking this way about Liam? You know you aren’t his type! How much wine have you had to drink, girl? Maybe you need to call up Keith for a booty call.

What are you guys working on @hopefulmoonobject​ @boneandfur​ @janezillow​ @msjr0119​ @texaskitten30​ @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​