#also noone is supposed to be standing 8 hours a day what the fuck

[brakish-tea]

I think in order to get rid of programmed and/or internalized abelism in society, we need to get rid of capitalism. Abled people don't want to lose their invincibility complex because that they don't want to have to rely on others or need a support network. And that isolation is something that I think results from capitalism. Like if we understood more widely that we are all interconnected and need to help each other then I think disability would stop being so scary for newly or newly discovered disabled folk and would be less stigmatized as 'weakness' by abelists. It wouldn't fix the problem but I think it would help.

[takoichigo]

I woke up at 8:30 PM today.

I didn't really sleep last night, caught a couple of hours between like 10 and noon, but I had to get up at noon and gather my laundry because a friend's mom volunteered to do it for me. I haven't really been able to do it myself in about a month.

I took a shower today too. I didn't get one before my appointment Monday because I overslept and I haven't otherwise left the house since last Thursday, which I think was the last time I showered. Don't get it twisted, I sit in the tub multiple times a day to relieve my pain that still isn't under control, but my hair...

...I have been losing it. A lot of it. Not all of it, and it doesn't hurt like I've heard it can with chemo. But colon cancer chemo isn't supposed to make all your hair fall out, it'll just "thin". It was already thin to begin with. I haven't looked in the mirror in a week, I'm kind of afraid I have bald spots. It's also much too long so I always just have it piled in a bun on my head (also to keep it out of the water when I'm in the tub).

I went off topic. Anyway. Showered. My laundry was picked up. Laid down and tried to watch some Red Dwarf. Made it through a couple episodes before I conked out. Slept from about 2:30 to 8:30. Woke up at 4, took my medicine, immediately fell back asleep. My bed has no sheets on it, I had to send the ones that were on it to be washed because my AC went out a few weeks ago and I've just sweated so much into them that they were stiff.

I'm not sure if I just was comfy because I'd showered and felt clean, or that I was not lying on a stiff sheet that smelled like B.O., or that only my daytime meds do enough for the pain that I can actually sleep, but I was out cold.

I guess I'm just nocturnal now. I hate this, I take meds at 11:00 PM to *help me sleep* and they fucking don't do anything in the face of the pain I'm in. I'm in the tub right now because the pain flared up and I couldn't lie there.

But I sent all my sheets and towels to be washed...which means I'm air drying when I get out I guess before I try to go back to bed. With no sheets on it. Not that I'm going to sleep. I'll sleep tomorrow during the day and be woken up by phone calls and texts and shit. Because y'know. Normal people hours. My laundry will be here in a few hours, she said she'd drop it off in the morning for me. I'm hoping I'm not asleep when she comes.

I can't do anything anymore. Especially at night, when the pain is the worst. So being nocturnal does nothing for me. Just being up out of bed is really tiring really fast.

But things are getting better I guess. The tumor has shrunk. The levels of the cancer indicator in my blood have gone way down (though they're still too high for a normal person). Blood count is too low, still, it's worse than it was before but I guess still not bad enough for a transfusion. No wonder I've been nearly passing out when I stand up.

I don't know what normal is anymore. I don't go out and do anything, I just...lie in bed. My car is still broken. I couldn't drive if I wanted to anyway... I'm way too weak and shaky, and sitting is almost always painful. Road bumps are god-awful. I've been playing Stardew Valley again because it feels like I'm accomplishing something. I've hit walls I don't want to deal with in almost every other game I have. Which sucks, but...why do I need to stress myself out over it?

My friends are really busy. I haven't seen much of them lately, and the one just always seems like I'm stressing him out when I do see him. The other one just got a new job and blanks out and freezes when I'm upset around him, which happens pretty often, because it's super easy to upset me. Usually just the pain will do it, but also, everything I'm going through is either terrifying or frustrating. I upset another friend the last time they visited, because they hadn't seen me so weak. Everyone keeps saying they're sorry I'm going through this. I hate hearing it. I don't want my friends to be sad or upset around me. I don't want to cause them to be stressed out. It's already so hard to ask for help as it is.

I don't really know why I'm writing this post. Honestly it just feels like I haven't talked to anyone in so long that's had enough time to listen. And probably no one will see this. Which is kind of okay. I feel like I'm just whining anyway.

[midnightsnyx]

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 6

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child. 

a/n: well... here it is lol 2(or 3?) weeks late. sorry for the wait, this chapter was just a bitch to write and every time i thought i was done, i wasn’t happy with it & i didn’t wanna post just for the sake of posting. but i stayed up until 2 a.m. to finish this, so technically it is sunday so im posting on schedule lol

im not sure how many parts are left to this story, maybe two or three + an epilogue but i haven’t decided yet. 

also, this gif made me feel things 😂

word count: 2.1k (i wish they were longer too but im doing the best i can😩)

warnings: none other than a couple swear words

Part 6

29 weeks

“What are you doing?”

“Researching how to murder someone and get away with it.” You mutter, typing where to buy a tiger in Google.

Becca gives you a wary look and sits next to you. “Everything okay?”

“No!” You groan in frustration, tossing your phone on the coffee table. “Matthew is driving me insane.”

She frowns. “Is he being an ass?”

“He’s being nice. Too nice.” You grumble, ignoring when Becca chuckles. “It’s like he’s trying to make up for missing the doctor’s appointment even though I told him I forgive him.”

Becca raises an eyebrow at you and you try to ignore her pointed look. “Do you though?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask defensively.

“You’re different around him now and I’m sure he’s noticed. It’s like you don’t trust him.”

You start to deny her accusation but stop to think about it. Were you more cautious around Matt lately? You certainly didn’t let yourself depend on him for things that you had been before, too afraid that he would let you down. You wanted to, but there was a nagging voice in the back of your mind reminding you that he’s let you down before and there’s always a chance he will again.

It’s as if Becca can read your mind because she shrugs. “You should be honest with him.”

However, something you’ve learned recently is that too much honestly can get you in trouble.

. . .

Sending Matt a text that said we need to talk, probably wasn’t the best approach because it took him approximately fifteen minutes to show up at your apartment and his is a half hour drive away from yours.

So his windblown hair and wide eyes really weren’t a surprise when you opened your front door.

“So, I think I should have worded that text a little better.”

“You think?” He huffs, walking past you when you step aside. He doesn’t even bother to take his shoes or jacket off, walking straight to the living room and turning to look at you.

“I’m sorry. For whatever I did.” He says and you groan.

“That’s the problem! Stop being sorry for things. It’s driving me nuts.”

He frowns and looks at you in confusion. “So… you don’t want me to be sorry for things?”

“I don’t want you to not be sorry for things, I just want you to stop being sorry for everything. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells around me.”

“I’m just trying to make-”

“Make up for missing the appointment.” you say, finishing his sentence. “I know.” your hand falls to your stomach and you sigh. “We’re going to be parents in less than three months. We need to start trusting each other.”

Matt slowly walks over to you and reaches out for your hand which you let him hold. His thumb rubs across the back of it and he nods.

“You’re right.”

You grin and lightly punch his shoulder with your free hand. “Of course I am. When am I ever wrong?”

He smiles, pulling you in for a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You ignore the way it makes your heart race because the last thing you need right now is your feelings for him to get even more confusing when you’re both finally on the same page.

Things are good now and you can’t risk messing it up.

. . .

31 weeks

He’s like a kid in a candy store, you’ve realized as you follow Matt around buy buy BABY. He has two carts, one already stocked full of things and the other slowly being filled. You stopped keeping count of how much everything costed an hour ago because the number started to make you queasy.

“He has enough clothes, Matty.” You whine, taking note of how Matt trips over his feet when you call him by that nickname. “and he’ll grow out of them before he even gets a chance to wear them.”

“Last one, I swear.” He says, holding up an outfit. “C’mon, how fucking cute is he going to look in this?”

“If his first word is a swear word, I’m going to kill you.” You mutter, taking the outfit from him and tossing it in the cart. Matt just grins and rests a hand on your stomach, hoping the baby will kick.

“How’s Joey?”

“Grayson is doing just fine.”

“We’re never going to come to an agreement on a name, are we?” he asks and you smile sweetly.

“Nope.”

He laughs and starts walking towards the checkouts.

“Did my mom tell you that they’re coming to visit?” He asks and you nod, recalling your conversation with Chantal. She’d called you first to make sure you were okay with the entire Tkachuk clan showing up. She knows how stressful pregnancy is and didn’t want to overwhelm you.

But you were ecstatic when she asked if it was okay for them to visit. You’ve grown to depend on her for any pregnancy questions over the past seven months and even when you needed some regular advice for everyday things, you sometimes texted her.

“Yeah, it’s Wednesday, right?”

Matt nods, smiling politely at the cashier as he starts loading every thing on the conveyor belt. You can tell that she’s a hockey fan by the way her eyes light up when she recognizes who he is.

“I’ve been meaning to ask if you can pick them up from the airport?” He asks, catching you off guard. “Their plane lands around noon and I won’t be back until later that night and I don’t really want them to have to take a cab.”

You’re a little surprised that he’s asking you to do this instead of paying someone or asking a close friend to do it instead. It’s an odd feeling, realizing that he trusts you with his family.

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You tell him and his smile warms you to the bone.

. . .

You show up to the airport forty-five minutes early because you can’t decide if you should wait in the SUV for Matt’s family, or meet them in the airport. Would it be weird to wait for them inside like you would with your own friends or family? You double check your phone to make sure that Matt did tell them it was you picking them up because how weird would it be if they were expecting him only to find you waiting.

You’re definitely over thinking it but you find yourself standing at the gates when their plane lands.

Chantal is the first person you see and her face lights up and she scurries over to you, pulling you in for a soft hug.

“Oh, look at you!” She gushes, taking your hands in hers and holding you at arms length. “You’re glowing.”

Glowing isn’t exactly the word you would use because as much as you tried to look nice to pick them up, you’re still seven months pregnant, sweating because of the jacket you have on and most definitely are wearing odd shoes because you can no longer see your feet and Matt wasn’t here to check for you.

But you blush nonetheless, letting Keith, Taryn, and Brady hug you before starting to walk to baggage claim.

“Thank you for picking us up.” Chantal says and you smile.

“It’s nothing,” you say, brushing it off. “You’ve done a lot for me.”

“Anything I can do to help. I know how hard it is being pregnant with your man travelling a lot.”

You want to correct her when she calls Matt your man, but you don’t want to be impolite so you just nod.

“Speaking of your man,” Brady says in a teasing voice, “what time does he get in, again?”

“Around 8.” You say, ignoring the teasing tone and changing the subject to ask Taryn how school is going. You know you’ll hear more comments about the nature of your relationship with Matt from his brother but for now, you chat with Taryn and Chantal about plans for the baby.

. . .

Matt gave you a key to his apartment when you both realized that you spent more time at his these days then you did at your own so you don’t miss the knowing looks Chantal and Keith share when you use your key to unlock Matt’s apartment. You know they can tell it’s your key and not Matt’s because he painted it your favourite colour when he gave it to you.

“So do we get a sneak peak of the nursery?” Taryn asks hopefully and you nod, gesturing for her to follow you. Matt turned one of the guest rooms in to the nursery in his apartment. You haven’t done anything with yours yet because you and Matt were starting to wonder if after the baby is born, at least for a little while, the two of you should just live together. It would certainly make things much easier.

“It’s beautiful.” Chantal says, and you can see her eyes watering a little.

“We’re going to put up letters spelling his name above the crib.”

“Oh yeah, have you guys decided on a name yet?” Keith asks, testing the sturdiness of the crib by wiggling it a little.

“No.” You mutter. “We can’t agree on anything.”

“You’ll find something you both love eventually.” Chantal reassures you. “Now, please tell me my son has food in his fridge, because I’m going to cook dinner.”

You grin, realizing that she too knows how bad Matt is at keeping his fridge stocked. Before you started spending so much time here, you would be lucky if he had eggs in the fridge.

. . .

Matt arrives home just as dinner is cooked and you get to witness what a typical Tkachuk night must look like. There’s lots of chirps thrown but you can tell how close this family is and how much they care about each other. Especially when it comes to Matt and his mom and sister. He treats them like gold and it warms your heart to see it.

After dinner, you volunteer to clean up and you’re surprised when Keith offers to help. You’ve only spoken to him a few times before today and you don’t feel as close to him as you do with Chantal so it’s quiet while the two of you clear up the dishes.

Keith breaks the silence after a couple minutes, turning to look at you.

“I know Matthew can be a handful… but don’t give up on him, okay?”

You’re surprised to hear this coming from Keith because you were truthfully expecting Taryn or Brady to say something about it. Every time you and Matthew touched or spoke to each other, you noticed the knowing looks and soft smiles from the other Tkachuk family members.

It was like they knew something that neither you nor Matthew did.

You’re not sure what exactly to say so you just nod.

“I won’t.” You promise, realizing that you truly mean it.

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 13)

Chapter 13

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 2,206

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

(Okay, this woman is way too glamorous, but it was the closest I could find to the dress and general physical appearance)

              As Christmas grew closer, Catalina wondered if she should visit her mother more and more. This was the first time being away from her so long, but her mother never said anything about buying her a plane ticket, and Catalina most certainly couldn’t afford one. She was also nervous about travelling alone, now that two more people had gone missing.

               But before she had to worry about Christmas, she had her first official date with Jungkook to worry about. They were both broke and extremely busy with final exams and work. But as soon as Christmas break began, both of their schedules opened up. Catalina wanted to be the one to ask him out first, so she invited him over for a movie night one night, getting ahold of a nice bottle of wine ahead of time. The movie she chose was C.H.U.D., a perfectly mediocre film that wouldn’t distract them from each other. Once the movie was set up, all Catalina had to do was wait.

               She made herself comfortable on her bed, still just a mattress on the ground, and pulled out her phone. She ended up just swiping back and forth on her home screen, glancing at the front door constantly. Jungkook had her only spare key, so he should be walking in any moment. She opened Twitter, scrolled down her feed without reading anything, then glanced at the door again. She opened her messages and read a text from her mom. Something about keeping pepper spray on her and being careful walking alone. Another glance at the door.

               She closed all her apps and set her phone down with a deep sigh. She needed to get a handle on herself.

               The sound of a key rattling and the front door opening made Catalina leap from her bed. Jungkook stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him. Snow was dusted in his hair and on his shoulders, which melted as he toed off his boots and took his coat off.

               “Hey,” Catalina greeted him as she approached. “How are the roads?”

               She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight before he could answer.

               “They weren’t bad, but I walked here,” he said, pulling her close with his arms around her waist. Catalina leaned back and kissed him, threading her fingers into his hair. She froze.

               “What…” she mumbled against his lips, combing through his hair and feeling the freshly shaved sides underneath. She felt him smile.

               “Do you like it?” he asked. Catalina pulled away further and pushed his long hair away from his face, eyeing the undercut that definitely wasn’t there the last time she saw him.

               “H- you…” Catalina let out a strangled sound before clearing her throat. Then she whispered, “It’s fucking sexy.”

               He laughed and kissed her hard, her hands back in his hair, and one of his hands finding its way up her back under her shirt.

               Catalina groaned and said, “We need to stop before I ruin my plans for tonight.”

               “Oh?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

               “Yes. We have a movie to watch,” she said, pulling him over to her mattress, where her laptop was set up with the movie ready to play. They got settled and she pressed play on the movie, pouring two glasses of wine. A few minutes into the movie, Jungkook turned to Catalina and said, “Was your plan really to just watch this movie? Because it kind of sucks.”

               “No,” said Catalina. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out to dinner with me this week sometime. I was thinking De Luca’s.”

               “You’re gonna wine and dine me?” he asked, his big eyes softening. Catalina nodded. “Of course! I’ve never been to that place before, but I hear it’s amazing. I’d love to go with you.”

               Catalina couldn’t contain the smile that took over her face.

               “And then after dinner,” Catalina continued. “You’ll drive me home since I don’t have a car-“

               Jungkook laughed.

               “And I’ll kiss you goodnight before you leave,” she finished.

               “All proper,” he said. Catalina nodded. “And then on our second date, when I wine and dine you, I’ll drive you home, because I have a car and you don’t, and I’ll kiss you goodnight-“

               “And then you’ll come inside with me and I’ll sit right here, just like this,” Catalina interrupted, getting up to straddle his thighs. “And then I’ll tug on your hair like this…”        

               She gripped his hair tight and gave it a good tug, pulling his head to the side. He let out a moan before clamping his mouth shut, his breathing getting quicker. Catalina leaned down so that her lips were just barely touching his neck.

               “Because you make pretty sounds when I pull your hair,” Catalina continued. “And then…who knows what will happen?”

               She got off his lap and returned to her spot cuddled up to his side.

               “But I’ll do all that stuff after our second date,” she said. “Because I know we’re both not into casual sex, and fucking after the first date is tacky.”

               “You’re evil,” he said, his voice breathy but a smile on his face. Catalina giggled and cuddled closer.

               “You love it,” she said. “I mean, in the meantime, we can just make out. Because this movie does kind of suck.”

               “Is that why you chose it?” Jungkook asked, raising an eyebrow. Catalina couldn’t get enough of him doing that, it was so sexy.

               “Maybe,” she said, pulling him down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

               Catalina was being chased again. She was too slow, her feel dragging and her body not responding to her commands. Namjoon was above ground, if she could get to him, he’d protect her. She made it to the tunnel and the metal ground clanged under her feet. Too loud, too loud! But she couldn’t slow down or else they’d catch her. She looked behind her. Jungkook was supposed to be following her, but he wasn’t there.

“Don’t stop now, kitty,” Jungkook’s voice echoed in the tunnel. “They’re going to eat you if you stop moving.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

              She rarely got mail, unless it was bills or brochures from the college, so when Catalina saw an envelope sealed with a wax seal in her mailbox, she ran as fast as she could up to her apartment to read it.

               She dumped the rest of her mail on the kitchen counter and tore the letter open. The paper inside was yellowed with age, but heavy and high quality. It was an invitation, from Taehyung, to a Christmas party at the mansion. The party was a week before Christmas, so Catalina still had some time to figure out what she was going to wear. She didn’t bring anything fancy with her when she moved, so she would need buy something.

               Before the party, she went shopping with Jimin and Hoseok, both of whom also needed outfits. Catalina ended up buying a long, red dress. It was backless with long sleeves, tight fitting to her figure with a wide collar that left room for a necklace. A long slit in the skirt up the back almost reached the dip in the back. When she tried it on at the mall, the boys said that “it was sexy and Jungkook has a thing for red.” Hoseok told her not to buy a necklace because he had something for her to wear.

               Anyway, she was excited to show it off. The party was going to start at eight in the evening, but Jungkook drove Catalina and Jimin to the mansion around noon. They hung out, helped decorate the house, and then a few hours before the party was to start, they all went to separate rooms to get themselves ready.

               Catalina was just finishing up her makeup in one of the guest rooms and getting ready to put her dress on when a knock came at the door. She opened it to find Hoseok standing outside.

               “May I come in?” he asked.

               “Sure,” said Catalina, stepping aside for him. He walked in and handed her a velvet rectangular box. “Is this it?”

               He nodded.

               “It’s from my mom,” said Hoseok. “I saw her a few days ago and told her about you and Jimin and Jungkook. She said you could borrow this for the party.”

               “Your mom lives around here?” Catalina asked. She never thought about Hoseok’s family. She supposed she should have assumed some of his relatives were still alive, since he wasn’t actually that old. She wondered if his mother knew he was a vampire, but she figured his mother would have to. Hoseok wouldn’t have aged in many years.

               “Yeah, after my dad died, she moved here to spend more time with me,” said Hoseok. Catalina opened the box. A pearl necklace shone back at her.

               “Oh my goodness,” she whispered. “Is she sure?”

               Hoseok nodded.

               “Tell her thank you for me,” said Catalina.

               “You can tell her yourself,” said Hoseok. “She’ll be at the party tonight. My sister will be here too.”

               With that, he left Catalina to finish getting ready. As much as she found Hoseok to be mysterious and even suspicious sometimes despite his sunny personality, Catalina was looking forward to meeting his mother and sister. Maybe they could give some insight on the secretive dancer.

               Catalina’s normally long, dark wavy hair was curled into smooth ringlets. She twisted it up into an updo as best she could with hanging strands. She fastened her hair in the back with a jeweled clip. Her hosiery was tight and uncomfortable, but when she put her dress on, it made her body look smooth and seamless, her matching red lingerie properly hidden. The pearl necklace completed the look and Catalina couldn’t stop looking at herself in the full-length mirror. Her dark curls framed her face, which was made up to make her dark eyes look bigger and sharper. Her makeup was light, just enough to make her bronze skin look flawless. The dress accentuated all her curves, and she could barely see her back in the mirror, but the dip came down dangerously low. The lace sleeves didn’t keep her warm, but they were delicate and elegant.

               Catalina couldn’t wait to show off her dress, and she couldn’t wait to see the boys in their suits.

               When Catalina came downstairs, Jin and Jimmy K had arrived and were in the foyer making conversation with Namjoon, along with a handsome stranger. All of them stopped talking to stare at her. She felt her face heat up. Jimmy K approached and held out a hand as she came down the last few steps.

               “You look incredible,” he said.

               “Jimmy K, I’m not at this party alone,” she said with a smirk.

               “I know,” he said. “Save me a dance though, would you?”

               “Sure,” said Catalina. “Where’s Jungkook?”

               “He was still getting ready, last I checked,” said Namjoon. “He should be down any minute.”

               Catalina looked at the stranger and Namjoon jumped in to introduce her.

               “Catalina, this is Dr. Vera Carlisle,” he said. “She’s a professor at the university I used to teach at.”

               Dr. Carlisle smiled and shook hands with Catalina. She had short, styled hair and was wearing a smart suit. Namjoon leaned in to say quietly, “Dr. Carlisle is the one who helps us get blood from the blood bank.”

               “Isn’t that like, taking blood away from patients who need it?” Catalina asked.

               “We have a lot of volunteers who give blood for exactly these situations,” said Dr. Carlisle. “There’s a bit of a community around the vampire life and, not surprisingly, people are infatuated with it.”

               Catalina had so many more questions, but at that moment, everyone looked to the staircase. Catalina followed their gazes and she let out a gasp. She couldn’t believe how good Jungkook looked. He seemed to be coming down the stairs in slow motion, at least that’s how Catalina saw it. His suit was black with red accents, and instead of a tie, he wore delicate gold chains looped under the collar. His hair was slicked back, revealing the shaved undercut and he might have even been wearing a slight amount of makeup around his eyes, making them a bit darker than usual. Catalina let go of the breath she was holding when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

               “Guk, you look…” Catalina couldn’t even find the right word. “I love…this is…”

               Jungkook smiled at her and said, “You too, Cat.”

               He let Catalina take his hand and pull him closer. They were alone in the foyer now, so Catalina had no reservations about leaning in and placing a kiss on his neck, right under his ear. Her red lipstick left a kiss-shaped stain on his skin.

               “So that everyone here will know who you belong to,” said Catalina.

              Jungkook’s face was bright red and he sounded breathless as he said, “You should just get a collar for me next time.”

              Catalina raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t expecting that response, but she found herself dwelling on the thought for the rest of the night.

.

.

.

[bongugourokishima33]

Look So Good | Bakugou Katsuki

A/N: I hope you liked my first post! I promise I’ll be more descriptive and tag better, new format so I’m still trying to figure out how to properly use Tumblr :p  

Warning: Sensual dancing, bakugou’s a dancer?! 

Summary: You were always someone Bakuogu wanted but could never get, after messing around a few times, he finally understood how to speak your language, and soon you will be his~

Word Count: 1,917

“Ooh, you be lookin' so good, I've been keepin' my cool, I be actin' brand new wit' ya-” 

Your hands slid up your legs sensually as you were bent over, slowly lifting up to the beat. Rolling your upper part matching the rhythm, watching yourself in the mirror of the dance studio. 

“Ooh, you be lookin' so good, I be actin' brand new, I've been keepin' my cool wit' ya, hey.”

Pausing the music for better concentration, you thought of your next move that would flow perfectly with this chorus. considering you had a competition coming up next month you wanted to win, so this dance had to be perfect 

“Why don’t we take a break.” Kirishima said sitting on the floor covered in sweat as he held the water bottle in his right, and a hand towel in his left. 

“Shima this is important to me, it needs to be perfect.” You groaned trying to catch your breath as you placed your hands on your hips. Kirishima wasn’t just your voluntary dance partner but also one of your best friends. He knows how important this is to you, but considering how you guys have been at this since 8 o’clock this morning, he’s pooped. 

“Y/N, It’s already noon, I’m starving.” He whined chugging the water until the bottle was half empty. 

“Just help me fix this and then we can go eat, I don’t like these moves but I don’t know what to do.” You huffed thoroughly frustrated at how you didn’t like this one part of the dance. 

“I’m not good at dance stuff, I’m only this good because you taught me.” He laughed getting up after placing the stuff on the ground beside him and walked up to your side taking in a deep breath. 

“Okay, well it’s a duet... it’s supposed to be powerful and sexual right?” You nodded staring at him through the mirror as you watched him stand behind you. 

“Well I saw this in a video on youtube, but we can slow it down and make it more sensual.” He placed his hand on your back. 

“When you bend down, and move your hand up your leg-.” You did what he said, as his hand stayed on your back. 

“Come up slowly, I’ll move m hand here- and then you move this way-.” After another painful hour of trying out a different move for this chorus you both agreed that you liked the new idea better and called it a day and grabbed your stuff leaving the studio. 

Dancing was a passion of yours that was something you wanted to be more than a hero, even though your quirk was something to be classified hero material. To obey your parents wishes you went to UA for them, but still try your best to continue your passionate love for dance. 

“Don’t worry Y/N, were gonna win!” Kirishima cheered as we walked into the dorms, seeing some of your classmates hanging out in the lounge are. Your eyes landed on crimson eyes that stared daggers back at yours. 

“You’re late, damn it I’m starving!” Bakugou roared walking up to him with his hands in his pockets. 

“Sorry man, Y/N made me stay longer.” He laughed scratching the back of his head. 

“I should have just ate with out you.” He grumbled glancing at you one more time, scanning you from head to toe. He made your skin tingle and your heart skip a beat. Besides his nasty attitude Bakugou was someone you considered your type, he’s sexy, incredibly strong and smart. 

“Don’t tell me you were struggling with dancing?!” He scoffed, his tone seeping into a condescending one. You glared at him, walking away before he opened up his mouth to say stuff that could piss you off about dancing. He always teased you, acting like he could do anything close to the stuff you do. 

“Ha, did I piss the little princess off?” A smirk formed against Bakugou’s lips making you stop dead in your tracks, turning on your heels to meet the ash blondes grin. 

“You think dancing is easy?” You rose a brow trying to hold back your scoff. 

“I don’t think it’s easy, I know it is.” Nibbling on your bottom lip to hold back the words you wanna say to him you glanced at Kirishima who sighed shaking his head, staying out of it. 

“Alright if you think it’s so easy then why don’t you try dancing Kirishima’s part in my dance routine.” The boost of confidence you got from within spilled out as you got closer but the closer you got the more you realized how much taller he was from you as he glared at your bravery. 

“Bring it you damn extra.” His malicious expression. 

You weren’t an amateur you were considered a performer, a top dancer form the studio you go to. Trying not to let his snarky remarks reheat the fire in your belly you headed to your room to clean up and change. 

~ 

“Wow that was amazing guy! Kirishima I didn’t know you could dance!” Mina cheered, along with Ochaco and Toru. 

“Ah. thanks guys haha.” Smiling bashfully at their comment, Kirishima looked at you with a smirk of confidence, knowing that they were going to wow the judges at the competition. 

“Why did you guys come!” Annoyed Bakugou glared at the group as they shrugged. 

“I wanted to see Y/N’s dance, they have been working for weeks on it I mean that was just incredible.” Toru said gushing over how hot it was resting on Jiro who was controlling the music. 

“Awh, are you scared of a little crowd? Or scared that there will be an audience watching to see that what I just did wasn’t luck but skill.” You used the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead. Knowing that you should be careful how far you push his buttons, you ignored your subconscious and continued to pick and poke at him. 

Bakugou was too prideful to back down from a challenge regardless of the situation, and considering he started it he definitely wasn’t backing down, he was going to make you eat those words, and then some. 

The way you moved your body made it impossible to peel his eyes away, how toned and smooth your legs looked as you touched them, and lifted them showing off your flexibility. The way he saw your chest heaving up and down when you were catching your breath, a thin layer of sweat coating your chest as your tank top hugged your body tightly.

How your can pop your back out and make your ass, your voluptuous back side poke out and jiggle. It drove him crazy, but it wasn’t the first time he’s seen you move like that, remembering back to days the two of you slipped away somewhere quiet and had a little fun. You were fucking beautiful, a goddess with moves so tranquil and alluring he could watch you on repeat all day. 

Getting up without any hesitation he walked up to you shoving Kirishima over, everyone shocked that he accepted the challenge. Walking over to everyone he took the phone from Jiro smiling letting her know she got it.  

Pulling you closer to himself, Bakugou placed his hands on your side, your back facing everyone. ‘Zshhoom’ the sound of your heart racing never being this close to him but a few times in your dreams when you stayed up all night thinking about him. 

“Alright Bakugou let’s see if you were watching carefully.” Yelled Kirishima as he got the music ready. 

“There’s no way you memorized all of that.” You said baffled at how confident he was. 

“Wanna bet.” He mumbled in your ear pulling you closer initiating for you to wrap your arms around his neck, getting into the starting pose you had earlier. You stared up at him, feeling nervous that there was an slight chance he would win, but there was no way, it was impossible, I mean you knew he was incredible, he had talent for cooking, he could fight, and he knew how to play the drums but dancing wasn’t like any of those. 

“You’re on.” Licking your lips in regret as the words slipped out your mouth like the wind does through trees. He smirked scanning your body one last time, before licking his lips. He didn’t have to say what the conditions were, you already knew them, it was the same like long before, part of you out of excitement hoped he would win, but your competitive side pushed those lewd thoughts away once the music started played. 

“Ooh, you be lookin' so good, I've been keepin' my cool, I be actin' brand new wit' ya”

Slowly moving your hips to the beat, you felt his hands quide you as you went down slightly then came back up, hr spun you around placing his hand on your back. 

“Ooh, you be lookin' so good, I be actin' brand new, I've been keepin' my cool wit' ya, hey”

Bending forward, as you stuck your leg out to the side, you ran your hand up your leg slowly coming back up, swaying your back side gently against him. After bringing you back up he ran his hands up your side, raising your arms in the process. 

“Top down, let me look in your eyes, (Get you somebody to roll the dice with), I know every second of yours is all mine, Get you somebody you don't think twice with)”

Dropping down into the slips once Bakugou held your hands in his, he helped lowered you with ease. Before everyone was watching excited, but now everyone’s eyes were watching your every movement with Bakugou. The tension and passion that came from you both like you two were the only ones in the room made everyone’s jaw drop to the performance. 

Pulling you back up, he move in sync with you as you both were in rhythm hitting each move perfectly in time with the beat. The song was coming to the last chorus, only being almost two minutes long. 

“I know what to do with my love if it's right, (Get you somebody to roll the dice with)”

Gripping your perfectly sculpted body into his hands, he lifted you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist, his palms laying flat against your back lowering you as you bent backwards, both of you dipping low to the beat. slipping off him to finish with one leg in the air as he held it up the song cut. 

“Omg that was even better than the first time!” Mina gasped. 

“Yeah talk about passion!” Toru giggled looking at Kirishima. 

“You need to be more passionate like that, and you will totally win for sure!” Kirishima sighed but listened to the feedback anyways. 

“Hold on are we just going to ignore the fact that Bakugou can dance!?” Jiro exclaimed taken back by what she just saw. 

Letting your leg down slowly he whispered into your ear swiftly before moving away from you, and even though he spoke quietly you heard him loud and clear. 

“Looks like I won kitten, you better be in my fucking room before I do.” Melting away at his tone you nodded smiling softly to yourself as he headed over to Kirishima, he was giving you a few minutes to get a head starts. 

[btsslowburnfic]

Born to Be Yours-Chapter 2

Series Summary:  For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

Chapter Summary: A second meeting and an awkward car ride

Find Chapter one here

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

About an hour later the men were all dressed and headed to the conference room to meet with the production team they would be working with for the next few days. Jin Walked over to Namjoon, “I hear you got some exciting news this morning.”

“It’s not exciting for me. Please don’t bring it up.” Namjoon said grumpily.

“You won’t hold out for long,” Jin grins, “Soon you’ll be like me.”

“Whatever,”

“Is your arm ok?” Jimin had been walking on Namjoon’s other side and noticed him holding his left wrist.

“It’s just a little sore. I probably hurt it when I shut the door too hard earlier.”

They arrived in the lobby looking for their Producer to introduce them to the Production Unit for this city.

“Excuse me, sir?” the hotel concierge called over.

They all looked over as the man walked towards them, “You sir, the one who came sprinting through earlier?”

Namjoon blushed and he could hear the other guys laughing at him, “Yes, that’s me.”

“A young woman dropped these off for you,” he handed him the pens he had dropped earlier in the day with a note attached. He was tempted to just toss it in the trash but instead, he held his breath as he opened it away from the prying eyes of his teammates.

TO MY SOULMATE (A haiku) You are an asshole.

You broke my wrist, you asshole

Here are your dumb pens.

---[Y/N]

Namjoon blushed furiously

“Is that from her? What does it say?” JHope appeared from nowhere over his shoulder.

“She says I’m an asshole,” Namjoon folded up the note and stuck it in his pocket and put the pens in his bag.

JHope cackles and claps his hands. “I love her. Seriously. If you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”

Namjoon glares at him, “No dating my soulmate. No dating anybody.”

“Guys, knock it off,” they hear Jin say as they see their Producer walking in with the on-site unit.

“Oh God. Jin, stand in front of me,” Namjoon tries badly to hide behind the other tall man.

Jin looks perplexed as Namjoon acts like a crazy person.

The Big Hit Producer walks over, “Gentlemen, this is our production team here. We have our principal director, choreographer, assistant director, and videographer,” he gestures to the team of four he is standing with.

“Gina Roman,” the Principal director introduces herself. “Clearly Rafael is our videographer,” the guy holding the camera gives a small wave. “Xavier is our main choreographer and [Y/N] is the Assistant Director.”  You and Xavier wave, a smirk crosses your face as you see the floppy hair and pouty lips of the asshole who knocked you down this morning. He is actually still trying to hide from you and is doing a terrible job. It is almost adorable. Almost. You were still very irritated and had told Xavier all about your fucked up morning. Huh. So your soulmate is in this band from another country. Interesting.

“Namjoon? Translate for us please.” Jimin politely requests. BTS usually had one with them, but they wouldn’t be arriving until after lunch. Namjoon pretended like he didn’t hear him. Jin shoved Namjoon out from behind him, “Translate you idiot”

Namjoon made eye contact with [Y/N], his cheeks flushing bright red. “Of course, sorry.” He translated the greeting for the team, “Let’s head to the conference room.”

“Why are you being so weird?” Suga asked on the walk to the conference room.

“It’s been a weird day, ok. It’s not every day you meet your soulmate.”

“And attack them. And run away from them.” Suga adds.

Namjoon sighs. Can he go back to this morning and wake up from this?

The two teams enter the conference room. Your cellphone rings, “Gina, it’s Robert, I’ll be in in just a minute.” you answer the phone and shut the  door behind you.

“We are so excited to have you here!” Gina begins speaking. “Would you like us to wait on the translator?”

“No thank you, I don’t mind,” Namjoon replies instantly calmer now that you have left. His wrist is still very achy and he finds himself holding it.

"There's been a bit of a problem with the practice space we were supposed to use but we are working on sorting that out now."

"Oh?” The Big Hit producer makes a concerned sound. “We can’t practice in the performance space?”

“Not until tomorrow unfortunately. It turns out the venue was already double booked. The others are bigger names, no offence. We are working on getting a new space worked out for you. We took the backup dancers there this morning to see if it would work for them.”

The guys were very concerned at not being able to practice where they would be performing.

“Why did they fly us out here if they didn’t even have the practice space ready?” Yoongi asks flatly

“We’ll just have to make the most of it I guess.” Jimin says.

At this moment, you enter the room. Namjoon instantly notices you are wearing a wrist splint on your left hand. You take your phone and place it on the table.

“Alright. The backup dancers were good to go. Robert says we can use his studio all day today and tomorrow night.”  you say, pleased that the back up plan has come through. “Also, the translator is here early. I asked him to wait just outside.”

“Excellent work, [y/n].” Gina compliments you. “And the space already blocked?”

“Yes, I walked it this morning. They just need Xavier and the guys to go over and check everything. After that we will get you guys all blocked and then we can rehearse. If you want, we can break for lunch and then head over there. Xavier and I should go and run it a few times before you guys get there,” you say.

“So to review the schedules: we are rehearsing at Robert’s tonight with just the group. I will run through it with back ups tomorrow while they do their press interviews. Then we will run it with them and backup dancers tomorrow night. We will have access to the awards venue Saturday at noon. Our practice time is 1-2 and then we can have them delivered to hair and make-up by 2:30 saturday.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Gina says, “Does this work for you all?”

Namjoon takes a minute to summarize what’s going on. “Yes,” Namjoon responds for the group. “I’d like to head on over there as well.”

“Great,  I’ll grab the translator.  [Y/N] and Xavier please take RM over there with you”

Namjoon’s face grows pale as he realizes what he has inadvertently signed himself up for. Fuck. He can’t say anything now or he’ll seem unprofessional.

You are borderline irritated and also feeling almost sorry for this poor jackass who clearly wants to get the hell away from you and also do his job well.

“Great, let’s go,” you pick your phone up off the table, Xavier follows you and Namjoon brings up the rear.

Ride to the studio

“I’m driving.” Xavier declares as you all walk out to the parking garage.”RM right?” He asks.

“Yes sir, nice to meet you.”

“I love your guys’ music and dance moves. They are seriously amazing. I was so excited when I found out I was learning your choreography and getting to work with you. Thank you for this opportunity.” He gushes to RM.

 You had done a basic amount of research on the group, but honestly you worked with so many music groups they started to run together for you. Some were well known, others less so. It was your job to coordinate on site back-up dancers, the choreographer, the venue, and make sure everything was where it was supposed to be when it was supposed to be. You quickly google “RM” on your cellphone for a quick overview and find “RM aka Kim Namjoon” and scan the info.

“[Y/N] I owe you big for picking me for this project.” Xavier smiles at you. “What’s wrong babe?”

You look up and sigh, there is no way you are telling him that this is the guy who literally ran into you this morning and caused you to sprain your wrist and who ran away from you. Xavier was super pissed on your behalf just an hour earlier. Now he was unknowingly smitten with the guy. You would wait and tell him after the show.  

“I’m just tired and my wrist hurts,” you respond, holding up the splint. Namjoon looks away, is he blushing? “You can take the front seat,” you offer to him as you throw your bag and body into the back of the Prius.

“Are you sure that’s all? You are never tired. ” Xavier responds as he buckles his seatbelt.

“Yeah, I was up at 4 to try and negotiate the space with Robert, blocked the room at 5. Taught Pilates at 6 and 7. Ran the videography and sound check at 8:30 with Rafael. Went for a jog. Got my wrist smashed. Went to the clinic to get a splint, and then met you guys..” You finally breathe after listing out what a fucking day you’ve had. “And It’s only noon. Stop and get coffee on the way please,” you tell Xavier.

“Damn girl. I still can’t believe you literally ran into your soulmate and he ran away from you.” Xavier remarked with a grin on his face. Holy shit, things were about to get really awkward. Part of you wanted to see your soulmate uncomfortable. Acting like he was too cool for all this stuff. You still weren’t sure what his deal was. “It is kind of hilarious though,” he starts laughing.

“Is my life a joke to you?” you respond dramatically. Namjoon awkwardly chokes on his own spit.

“Oh please. I’m sure you’ll find him again. Was he hot?”

“Meh, he was ok looking,” you lie. This guy was super hot. “I mean, from what I could tell. He had a hat on and of course, it was very blurry as he was sprinting away from me.”

Xavier cackles.”Only you babe. When I met Joe it was like a romantic movie. Seriously. Yours is more of a romantic comedy.”

“No. I think it’s more a dark comedy or action movie based on this morning. Maybe a documentary on a dumpster fire” you respond, searching RM’s face. He has giant sunglasses on and is looking out the window pretending to not be listening.

“Sorry. This is super unprofessional. I apologize,” he directs this at RM. “[Y/N] and I have been working together for five years, I honestly don’t even think about what’s coming out of my mouth when I’m with her and she’s had a bananas day. Haven’t you honey? She met her soulmate this morning and he literally ran into her and then ran away.”

“Yeah. It’s been a rough day;" you indulge Xavier,"I mean, what kind of person shoves their soulmate to the ground and then sprints away?” you ask the car. Silence hangs in the air. You are having your desired effect.  

Xavier says to you in spanish that he thinks you two are making RM uncomfortable and you should switch back to work. As much as you hate it, you agree. You two are technically at work. You switch back to English.

“How did you manage to snag the studio from Robert? Don’t they usually hold classes all day?” Xavier asks you.

“Two things: he and his wife take ballroom dance at our studio on Wednesday nights.”

“You don’t teach ballroom,” Xavier interrupts.

“No, but I do check on the clients to make sure their classes are going well. They are very happy with Clarissa.”

“Look at you, you little networker. Going for Gina’s job?” God Xavier was such a gossip.

“Nope. And don’t interrupt me you brat,” you jokingly fluff his hair from behind,  “Part 2 his daughter is a huge fan. I told him they could stop by during rehearsal as long as they left their phones at the front desk.” you smile triumphantly.

“I think you accidentally already took Gina’s job but didn’t tell her and didn’t take the pay raise,” Xavier turns into the coffee shop parking lot. You shrug your shoulders. “I like my job. I have way more flexibility to still teach classes. GIna’s job is 9-5 AND hopefully we will get a tour bid this summer,”

“True true.” he parks. You hand him the company card,

“Grab me a fruit cup and the usual, iced. What would you like?” you ask Namjoon.

“Just some water is fine,”

“You got it,” Xavier takes the card and runs inside.

Namjoon sits stiffly trying to ignore the fact that he has been left in the car with his soulmate. He takes off his sunglasses and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I was being serious earlier. What kind of person does the shit you did this morning?” you lean forward from the backseat.

“You already know. I’m an asshole.” he turns and gives you a cold glare. Damn.

“Huh. Ok. Awesome.” you respond. You really weren’t expecting that.  You get back to your phone. “By the way you owe me like $900 asshole.”

“Pardon?” he responds.

“$200 for the clinic and $700 for the classes I’m having to sub out because you broke my fucking arm.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “You are dramatic. Nice poem by the way.”

“Thank you. It came so effortlessly as I was inspired by my muse,”

Namoon turns around irritated. “I just wanted to go out and buy pens!”

“I just wanted to go out for a jog. And by the way, I made sure you got those pens mister! Because I am NOT an asshole,”

Namjoon opened his mouth to respond but didn’t have anything to say to that because you were right. The car was silent for a few minutes. “Thanks for the pens.” he said quietly.

“Your wrist hurts.” you say, observing him cradling his left arm.

“It does. I shut a door too hard this morning,”

You click your tongue, “Is that why you think it hurts? Man you are deep in denial darling. Your wrist hurts because you hurt my wrist. That’s part of how this whole thing works.”

“What are you talking about?” He asks, irritated.

“....are you serious right now? I googled you real quick and you’re supposed to be the smart one.” you scoff.

“Who’s the asshole now?” he retorts.

“Fair enough. That was a little mean. But, now that we have met, we are going to experience each other’s pain. Whenever Xavier is sick, Joe gets sick. When Xavier is sad, Joe can tell. Even when they’re not  together. Were your parents soulmates?”

“Yes.” Namjoon thinks about this. He hadn’t asked his parents about any of this stuff because he didn’t care, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. “Shit.”

“Yeah. So I mean I’m glad your wrist hurts because Karma, but I just thought you should know. Please be careful with your body. I teach fitness classes as my main income and I need my job.”

Namjoon sits there for a minute taking all of this in. He had worked so hard for this to not happen. Dammit. He didn’t want anything like this.

Xavier came back to the car and distributed coffee and water. The rest of the ride to the studio was mostly silent other than Xavier randomly asking RM questions about the other band members. Apparently he was a huge fan. RM was super nice and friendly to Xavier, much to your annoyance. What had you done to deserve the asshole version? I mean, you had written him a mean haiku, but that was after he was rude to you. You sulk in the back seat while answering emails one handed. NEXT CHAPTER

[wheresmynaya]

Lopez’s 8 Ch.8 | Brittana

Also available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & below the cut!

It’s the first Monday of May and the sun is just barely peeking up over the horizon when Brittany slips back into the loft after a morning run and a quick stop at the corner café. Everyone’s still sound asleep aside from Emma who is preparing to spend the day with Rachel Berry. She’s nothing but nerves as she packs her things and she’s so focused on her task that she doesn’t even notice Brittany approach her.

“Morning,” Brittany greets.

Despite Brittany’s softness, Emma jumps at the unexpected sound.

“Sorry,” Brittany smiles apologetically, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Emma laughs nervously and goes back to packing, “That’s alright. Just got caught up in my thoughts, I suppose. You’re up early, didn’t think I’d see anyone before I left.”

“Running helps me focus,” Brittany shrugs before extending her hand. She has been holding two takeaway cups and offers one of them to Emma, “Here. I got this for you.”

“Oh, that’s very thoughtful but I don’t drink coffee,” Emma declines politely, “It gives me the jitters.”

Brittany smiles, “It’s tea. Lemongrass and ginger, I saw you drinking some the other day.”

Emma’s shoulders ease and she gives Brittany a genuine smile as she accepts the drink, “That’s perfect, thank you.”

“It’s cool,” Brittany returns the smile, “I figured you could use it. It’s going to be a big day.”

“So…I see you and Santana have fixed things,” Emma comments as she takes a sip of her tea, “Or rather, I hear you and Santana have fixed things.”

Brittany blushes, “Yeah, we have.”

Emma smiles proudly, “I’m glad. I didn’t really care for how dicey it was getting there for a second.”

“Neither,” Brittany nods, “We’re working on it though. Sorry if we made things awkward.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just happy you two are figuring it out,” Emma winks before letting out a sigh, “Well, I should get going. Rachel has a pretty rigorous morning routine and she insists that I am there for it all.”

“Of course,” Brittany chuckles, “I’ll see you later then. Good luck!”

Emma bows her head before wheeling away her belongings.

\\

When Brittany pokes her head into her room, she’s pleased to see Santana’s still sound asleep. The brunette has gravitated towards Brittany’s side of the bed and she hugs Brittany’s pillow to her chest. It makes Brittany smile as she tiptoes in, closing the door gently behind her, and settles on the edge of the bed.

When it dips, Santana let’s out a hum and stretches a hand for Brittany. The blonde takes it and places a gentle kiss atop it once she sinks down a little lower. She manages to pull her pillow away from Santana’s hold with one hand – the other is still holding onto a takeaway cup – and let’s the sleepy con artist cuddle into her side instead.

“Mornin’ San,” Brittany whispers as she caresses Santana’s bare shoulder. Her fingers trail down between Santana’s shoulder blades, tracing the smooth skin there.

Santana lets out a mumble and snuggles in closer.

“You gonna wake up?” Brittany whispers again, coaxing Santana from her slumber. She can tell by the subtle movements and sleepy sounds that Santana’s starting to awaken.

“Do I have to?” Santana asks groggily.

Brittany chuckles lightly at the question. This version of Santana is probably one of her favorites – all soft and sleepy, with her voice doing that sexy raspy thing. God, she’s so in love with this woman. If it wasn’t Game Day for them, Brittany would totally strip down and lie in bed with her all day.

“Yeah, you have to,” Brittany says and trails her fingers up over Santana’s hipbone, “Come on, I brought you a coffee. Don’t want it to get cold, do you?”

“You brought me coffee?” Santana asks and she sounds a little more awake now. She rolls a little and looks up at Brittany for the first time that morning.

Brittany can’t help but give her a goofy grin. To think they almost didn’t make it, look at them now. It’s almost like those past few days didn’t even happen. It obviously did because they’re more aware now, but they have so easily fallen right back into their rhythm as if no time had passed.

“I did,” Brittany answers and holds the cup in front of her.

Santana lights up even more and slowly pushes to sit up so that she can take the cup in her hands. She can already smell the roasted goodness and hums at the scent.

“You’re the best,” Santana says before taking a sip. Once she finishes, she leans in to kiss Brittany’s soft lips, “Thank you.”

“Big day today, thought we’d start it off right,” Brittany replies coolly.

Santana just smiles as she settles into Brittany’s side and sips her coffee slow. She has missed starting off her mornings like this and she’s so happy that she gets to do it all over again tomorrow. She never considered herself a morning person, but with Brittany? She might just change her mind.

A few minutes go by of them just sitting comfortably in each other’s silence when Brittany speaks up again.

“You ready for today?” She asks.

Santana smirks and downs the rest of her coffee, “I was born ready. What about you?”

“Totally,” Brittany mirrors her with a cocky grin, “We’ll be just fine.”

\\

Noon;

“We are not fine!” Brittany says as she briskly crosses the common area to where Santana and Quinn are standing. There’s an edge to her voice and it instantly raises a couple red flags for Santana.

“What?” Quinn questions, “What’s wrong?”

“Look,” Brittany holds out her phone and swipes to play a video she received from Emma minutes ago.

Santana and Quinn lean in and watch as a guard uses some type of key to unlock the Toussaint’s clasp. When the video finishes, the three of them exchange looks of surprise: they had no idea the necklace needed a key.

“Mercedes,” Santana calls out as she walks towards the hacker, “Can you bring this video up on your computer? We’re going to need a better look at this thing.”

The four of them watch as Mercedes plays the video over and over again trying to figure out how they can fix this in time. The more time that passes without finding a solution, the more frustrated Santana becomes.

“Fuck,” Santana mutters as she begins to pace, “A fucking key? Who does that? Who unlocks a necklace with a damn key? It’s ridiculous.”

“Must be a thing when the necklace is worth millions,” Quinn replies. She’s still studying the video along with Mercedes while Brittany tries to get Santana to quit pacing.

“You’re making me nervous,” Brittany chastises Santana lightly. She takes a hold of Santana’s shoulders and runs her palms down the woman’s arms, “Relax. We’re professionals, we can come up with something.”

“I’ve got it!” Mercedes blurts out suddenly. Santana and Brittany rush to her sides as she begins to explain, “I’ve got a friend that messes with this kind of stuff. I can give her a call and see what she can do?”

Santana relaxes, “Make the call.”

\\

Within ten minutes, Mercedes manages to enlist a friend who can confidently replicate the mechanism and have it finished within an hour. Santana’s so damn happy she nearly hugs the woman with all her strength.

“Okay great,” Santana nods, “That gives Tina just enough time to make her adjustments. Thank you, Mercedes.”

Mercedes just lifts her shoulder casually, “That’s nothin’. Someone will need to meet up with her though.”

“I can do it,” Brittany answers, “I have to pick up the catering van anyway.”

“And the food truck?” Santana questions.

Brittany shakes her head, “That one’s already organized. They’re going to park it so Mercedes and I will be set for later.”

Santana lets out a sigh of relief. She didn’t need this kind of scare so early in the day, but maybe now that it’s out of the way it’ll be smooth sailing from here.

\\

Brittany’s out in the garage preparing to head off when Santana enters. She’s hugging her arms to her chest in that special way that let’s Brittany know she’s nervous about something.

“What are you doing out here?” Brittany asks. She’s straddling her bike and has got her helmet in her hands, “I thought you and Quinn were working on something?”

“She’ll be fine without me for a few minutes,” Santana shrugs as she closes the distance, “I just wanted to speak with you, just us.”

Brittany smirks and looks around the room, “You know, we don’t always have to talk in the garage. There are other places too.”

Santana relaxes a little at the joke, “Yeah, I know. You’re just always out here when I want you.”

Brittany softens and watches how Santana lingers just a few feet away.

“Come over here,” Brittany nods until Santana’s close enough to pull in, “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing crazy,” Santana replies as she wraps her arms around Brittany’s shoulders. The leather of Brittany’s jacket is cool against Santana’s skin, “I wanted to say good luck. I’ve been trying to think of something that’s more profound than that, but I’m not really getting anywhere.”

“I’m just going to pick something up,” Brittany chuckles, “I’ll be back.”

“I’m meaning for tonight,” Santana explains with a timid smile, “By the time you get back, we’ll be starting and I might not have the chance to say it. You know, with it just being us, and I wanted to have a moment before everything happens.”

Brittany swoons and her cheeks feel hot all of a sudden. This is Santana trying to open herself up to Brittany, to put her heart out there even if it’s only something small. It makes Brittany’s heart feel so full to see Santana already putting in the effort she always knew the brunette was capable of.

“I love you,” Brittany sighs because she can’t really think of any other words she wants to say right now, “Like so much.”

It’s Santana’s turn to swoon, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead she leans in for a kiss. It’s slow and she can feel Brittany’s tongue running against her bottom lip while her arm wraps around Santana’s waist as they press even closer together.

It starts to heat up even more, but thankfully Brittany’s helmet acts as a barrier between them before they could get entirely distracted. When they finally pull away, Santana’s lips are swollen and Brittany’s got a dazed look in her eye.

Santana takes in a breath and pats Brittany’s thigh, “Good luck, Britt.”

“Short and sweet,” Brittany smirks, “Just like you.”

“Hey,” Santana fakes a glare.

“It was a compliment,” Brittany teases.

“Right,” Santana says with her eyes narrowed, “Well good luck. I love you.”

Brittany only winks as she slips into her helmet, “Thanks, but you don’t need luck when you’re this good.”

Santana shakes her head although she can’t help but smile at how suave Brittany can be.

“You be careful on that thing,” Santana warns as Brittany starts up the motorcycle.

“You got it, babe!” Brittany calls out before slapping down her visor and riding off.

Santana just watches until she’s out of view, never growing weary of how hot Brittany looks in that leather jacket. It’s just what she needs to get her through the next hour.

\\

Mid-afternoon;

The crew – consisting of everyone minus Emma – is dressed in blank pants and tops with black beanies snug on most of their heads.

“Why are we all dressed like cat burglars?” Tina points out as she lugs a heavy case across the garage to store in the catering van Brittany returned with.

Sugar sits atop one of the cases and inspects her nails, “For the aesthetic, obviously. Everyone looks good in black.”

Tina just rolls her eyes as she fails to lift the case she’s pulling into the van, “Are you going to help or would you rather watch me struggle?”

Sugar quirks a brow and smiles mischievously, “You really want me to answer that?”

Santana walks by with Brittany and slaps at the back of her head, “Go help her, Sugar.”

The pickpocket let’s out a dramatic sigh and kicks off of the case to do as she’s told. Brittany just chuckles at the two while they walk over to Mercedes and Quinn.

“Got everything?” Santana asks Mercedes. The hacker has a few cases of her own ready to load into the van resting by her feet.

She nods, “Yeah. Should be easy enough to get set up. Got the other cases you asked for over here too.”

“Great,” Santana smiles and looks to Brittany, “Can you help them? I’ll trying wrangle those two over there so we can get a move on.”

“You got it, boss!” Brittany replies eagerly and gets to work with Quinn and Mercedes.

\\

A moment later, they’re all piling into the van and Brittany hops into the driver seat. It’s a tight fit to get five women seated in the back, but they manage to squeeze in. Soon Quinn is passing out earpieces for everyone and once they’re is situated, Quinn runs through a sound check.

“Mercedes?”

“Check.”

“Santana?”

“Check.”

“Sugar?”

“Hey girl hey!”

“Tina?”

“Check.”

“Britt?”

“Check.”

“Okay, great!” Quinn nods before she leans forward a little so that she can see Santana. They exchange satisfied smiles before sitting back in their spots to continue on with the drive in silence.

Santana can feel the buzz of excitement and anticipation as they get closer to their first destination. It’s one of Santana’s favorite feelings when it comes to a heist. The feeling just rattles her bones and fills her entire being up with pure adrenaline. She might’ve had a few moments here and there so far when the nerves almost took over, but that’s what keeps her focused.

She was made for this.

\\

“Alright kiddos, first stop,” Brittany calls out from the front seat as she parks just around the corner from the Met entrance.

Sugar, Tina and Quinn slowly make their way out of the van with Tina’s case of tools. They also have their own bags slung over their shoulders concealing their uniforms and a change of clothes for later.

“Let us know how you go,” Santana says to Quinn as Tina and Sugar begin to make their way to the staff entrance.

Quinn nods, “See you guys soon.”

Santana only nods too before Quinn’s shutting the door behind her.

\\

The next stop is Santana’s and Brittany’s a little worried about the choice as she pulls up to the destination.

“A public restroom?” Brittany questions then she’s twisting around in her seat to spot Santana, “In a park no less? I can get you a hotel room instead?”

Santana chuckles as she prepares to exit the van, “You know everything’s fully booked. Besides, it’s only a short walk to the Met from here.”

“You’re going to walk there too?” Mercedes asks out of disbelief.

“Can I just do me? Damn,” Santana huffs.

Brittany only laughs, “This area looks sketchy. Can I drop you off somewhere else?”

Santana brushes her off, “I’ll be fine, Britt. Remember, I’ve done time. I wish someone would try me out here.”

“San…”

“Britt…” Santana mimics before she softens, “I’ll be fine. I promise.”  

“Alright,” Brittany relents with a sigh.

Happy with her response, Santana makes her way out of the van with her bag. She comes around to the driver’s side window and waits for Brittany to roll it down.

“Can I get a kiss before I go?” Santana asks super sweetly.

“You think you have to ask?” Brittany giggles and leans down so they can share a quick one through the window.

“Okay, get going. I’ll see you in a bit,” Santana waves.

Brittany just winks, “See ya.”

\\

Dusk;

Everyone’s had enough time now to get changed and into position. Quinn and Sugar are just finishing up with the service briefing for the staff working tonight’s dinner. Tina’s set up her work station in the staff bathroom off of the kitchen. Brittany and Mercedes are on stand by in the food truck with Mercedes’ equipment all up and running.

And Santana’s applying her final coat of lipstick.

Everything has led up to this moment and she’s anxious to see how it all will play out, because no matter how prepared you are, anything can happen. She takes one more steadying breath before she taps at her ear piece.

“Countdown’s on,” Santana points out first with one last check of the time.

It’s just after six so Emma should be arriving soon to the Met with Rachel and Dani. With everyone else deep in their covers now, Santana doesn’t hear a response but she knows they’re listening.

“So we made it, almost. I just want to start off by saying the nerves are normal. If they weren’t there, I’d be worried because these jobs don’t work without them. The nerves remind us that we really fucking want to pull this off and we will,” Santana starts off.

She’s watching her reflection as she finishes her make up and it’s almost like she’s talking to herself if it weren’t for the others’ in her ear. This pep talk is for everyone, including herself. She caps her lipstick and goes for her mascara next.

“Don’t worry about getting locked up either. It’s not so bad and I’ve still got a few connections on the inside so if all else fails, you’ll all be taken care of,” She pauses for a moment and shakes her head at her own honesty, “But no one’s getting locked up because we’re professionals and we’re ready for anything.”

From the food truck, Brittany smirks at Santana’s slip up. She can hear in her words that Santana’s trying her best to be professional. Afterall, this is her job and she has been the mastermind behind the entire thing so far.

Brittany’s proud of her though, she loves to see this kind of growth in Santana.

Santana clears her throat and continues, “These last three weeks have been one hell of a ride, huh? We were on such a tight schedule and you all really uprooted yourselves to be here. I want to thank all of you for sticking around long enough to see this through. You’ve all worked very hard for this so whatever happens tonight, I just want everyone to remember why we’re doing this.”

With her clipboard in hand, Quinn stares down at her list and nods. She’s not reading what it says but instead she’s listening to Santana’s words and thinks about her daughter, her family.

Tina too, thinks about her family and their business and what this money can mean for them.

“It’s not for me and it’s not even for you,” Santana adds, “It’s for all the little kids out there that dream one day of becoming a badass criminal.”

Surrounded by a bunch of nerds in waiter uniforms, Sugar grins proudly. She’s the youngest of Lopez’s crew so Santana’s words really resonate with her. She’s been a pickpocket for as long as she can remember and she fills with pride that she’s living out this dream.

“We’re doing this for them,” Santana says earnestly, “We’re doing this for the children.”

\\

Mercedes quirks her brow and turns to Brittany, “Did she just say this is for the children?”

Brittany chuckles, “Yeah, she did.”

Mercedes shakes her head and swivels back to her screens, “That was not what I was expecting her to say.”

“Santana’s full of surprises,” Brittany replies through her smile, “You get used to it.”

\\

The entrance of the Met is cluttered with the chatter of celebrities being interviewed by news outlets and the bright flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras. Santana hangs back a little when she catches sight of Emma, Rachel and Dani just ahead of her followed by the two guards looking after the Toussaint.

Santana can see that Dani’s changed her hair color once again – a deep brunette – while Emma fusses over Rachel’s train as they ascend the steps. She keeps her facial expression neutral as she follows at a safe distance until she’s stopped to be checked in. She gains entrance easily thanks to Quinn and continues to keep her eye on the three as they head towards the exhibits.

\\

Inside the dining area, Quinn’s as cool as a cucumber. She’s flipping through the pages of her clipboard and double checking all the seating arrangements so that everything’s perfect. Oddly enough, her job at Vogue is sort of a perfect fit for someone as organized as her.  

She glances up in Santana’s direction as she walks by the corridor and gives her a subtle nod before tapping at her earpiece.

“We can begin seating the guests,” She says so that those around her and the team in her ear can hear.

“I’m about to see so many famous people,” Sugar responds and they can just hear her chaotic excitement.

“Please don’t break character,” Quinn warns as she walks towards the dining room entrance.

“I’m not making any promises,” Sugar replies.

“Sugar!” Santana whisper scolds.

“Chill, I was joking. Lighten up people, you’re stressing me out,” Sugar groans and soon she’s entering the dining area as poised as ever.

Quinn catches sight of the pickpocket too and gives her a subtle nod, “Okay, bring them in.”  

\\

“Okay thank you. Enjoy!” Brittany says a bit too sweetly to another customer. She’s dressed in her chef whites with her hair tied up in a neat bun and she’s using the tongs she’s holding to wave goodbye.

From the other end of the food truck, Mercedes chuckles, “Why don’t you just put up the closed sign?”

Brittany just shrugs and goes to prep a plate of tots for them to share, “I’ve always wanted a food truck. Actually, I’ve always wanted an ice cream truck. Ice cream truck owners just seem so happy all the time.”

“Well I know what you’re using your share of the money for,” Mercedes jokes before turning back to watch the screens. She’s got eyes on everyone, but nothing too crazy is going down just yet.

Emma, Rachel Berry and Dani are slowly moving through the exhibits while Santana tails them. Across the venue, Quinn lingers around the host desk as guests begin to file in. Sugar’s there too with a bottle of sparkling wine, she wanders around the space filling glasses and offering top-ups.

“How’s it looking?” Brittany asks a moment later and slides a plate of tots between them.

Mercedes swipes one and pops it into her mouth, “Fancy as hell, but we’re good. Some of the guests are starting to be seated.”

“Sweet,” Brittany smiles and starts to untie her apron, “I’m going to head in then and check on Tina. Starters will probably go out in the next thirty.”

“Cool,” Mercedes nods, “See you in a bit.”

Brittany nods too and goes to fist bump Mercedes before she makes her way out of the truck.

\\

Near the exit of the exhibit Emma, Rachel and Dani were just in, Santana lingers by the archway that leads into the dining area. She doesn’t actually have a place setting, so she hangs out near the bar and keeps her champagne flute close to her mouth to conceal her moving lips.

“They just left the exhibit,” Santana alerts the group with a subtle press to her earpiece.

Quinn looks up from her task and spots the three being guided to their table by another hostess. She begins to make her way over, “I’ve got eyes on her. She’s being seated now.”

“I’m coming by for arrival drinks,” Sugar says next and soon the pickpocket appears. There’s a quickness to her step as she approaches and begins to fill everyone’s glass.

“Britt, you can go on Rachel’s appetizer in fifteen,” Quinn instructs.

\\

In the kitchen, it’s a mad house and there are bodies everywhere rushing to get dishes plated in time. Tina’s hidden away where all the other kitchen hands stay washing up and doing prep work. She keeps her head down though and waits for her signal.

Brittany stands off to the side too in her own section of the kitchen dedicated to special dietary requirements, watching everyone’s movements like a hawk while she listens to the others talk about what’s happening in the dining room. When she hears Quinn call her out, Brittany nods and checks her pocket for the bottle she’s meant to use on Rachel’s appetizer.

“Heard,” Brittany mutters before stepping up to the pass and calling out, “Ready on the vegan for table four!”

“Yes chef,” The line calls out in return.

Brittany smirks at the robotic response; one of the perks about this job is that she can be so many different things: a chef, a small business owner, a con artist. The possibilities are endless!

Minutes later, several dishes are brought to the pass. Brittany inspects them all and it really looks like she knows what she’s doing as she wipes away the chefs’ fingerprints left on the sides of the plates. There are a couple more finishing touches here and there including a few drops from the bottle Brittany had in her pocket into Rachel Berry’s vegan butternut squash soup.

She feels a little bad for what the star is about to go through, but it’s only a fleeting thought before she’s calling out, “Service please!”

Soon waitstaff enter and the dishes are on their way. Once they’re out of sight and Brittany’s sure no one’s looking, she presses at her earpiece, “Alright ladies, soup’s on.”

\\

Emma sits rigidly next to Rachel Berry as she goes on and on about the projects she’s currently working on. The designer’s close to running off and hiding by the bar for the rest of the evening when an elegant bowl of soup is placed in front of Rachel.

Without an earpiece of her own, Emma has been pretty out of the loop so she can only guess where they are in the heist. But when the plate of soup is set down, Emma knows they’re deep in this now. She watches with bated breath as Rachel dips her spoon in and takes a huge mouthful. It’s a little disgusting to watch, especially paired with the obscene noises she’s making at the taste.

She could’ve gone her whole life without hearing Rachel Berry moan.

“God, this is incredibly delicious!” Rachel commends dramatically.

The rest of the guests at the table – including Dani – look somewhat uncomfortable as Rachel’s the only one with an appetizer for the moment. She takes another spoonful and hums in delight.

“I haven’t eaten anything all day,” Rachel sighs with her mouth full, “I must’ve forgotten, you know how long it takes to get prepared for these kind of events.”

Dani forces a smile, “Right.”

Rachel sees Dani’s failed attempt to mask her discomfort and pauses, “I’d offer you some, but I know you aren’t vegan as well and not everyone is accustomed to the taste of vegan food.”

“It’s just squash soup,” Emma says with the shake of her head before she realizes she said those words aloud instead of keeping them to herself.

Rachel shoots her a glare, “It isn’t just anything. Substitutes were used, sacrifices had to be made in order to preserve the lives of many. I’m a hero for what I do.”

Emma blushes, “Of course. I apologize.”

“Well,” Dani starts off with a flirty smile, “I happen to think your veganism is sexy.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. You know what else I think is sexy?”

Rachel’s attention is swiftly stolen as Dani starts to whisper more. Emma tries to focus on anything else but them while Rachel laughs like a giddy school girl between bites of soup.

\\

From offsides, Quinn catches Emma’s eye before closing the distance to the table to see how far Rachel is into her soup. She can just barely see the bottom of the dish and smirks.

“She’s nearly finished with the soup,” Quinn tells the crew, “T-Minus fifteen minutes.”

Sugar nods upon hearing the update and sets down her wine bottle in order to make her way towards the restrooms.

She moves quickly, only momentarily distracted by famous people twice, before she’s entering the bathroom. She’s surprised to see so many celebrities huddled in there taking mirror selfies and wonders if Santana would be mad if she happened to photobomb a couple of these. She decides against though, she’s on the job.

With everyone so distracted with themselves, Sugar starts to lock each stall door from the inside…only allowing to far stall to be left unlocked.

\\

Fifteen Minutes Later;

“And I completely choked!” Rachel shrieks.

“No!” The guest next to Dani gasps.

“It’s true. It never happened to me before,” Rachel tells the table. She’s mid story about some audition she went for early on in her career when her stomach gurgles.

Emma actually hears it and goes to touch Rachel’s shoulder, “You okay?”

Rachel forces a smile and brushes off the feeling, “Of course, it’s nothing. Anyway, where was I? Oh, I managed to – “

This time Rachel burps and everyone at the table looks to Rachel half out of disgust, half out of worry. Emma subtly scoots her chair further away because the sounds coming out of Rachel do not sound pretty.

Dani’s probably the only one genuinely concerned as she leans in, “You sure you’re alr – “

This time Rachel gags and shoots up from her seat. She’s looking a shade of pale green but before anyone can tend to her, she gags again and takes off towards the restrooms.

\\

Santana waits at the bar for a refill when the sound of Mercedes’ voice fills her ear.

“And she’s on the move, ladies!” Mercedes alerts them from the food truck, “Sugar, she’s coming to you.”

Santana looks towards the entrance that leads into the dining room just as Rachel rushes out. Just behind her, Santana can see the two guards running to her aid.

Or rather, to keep their eyes on the Toussaint. She doubts they care about wearer of the actual necklace.

“I see her,” Santana notes as she takes her newly filled glasses and heads towards the restrooms too. She gets there just as Rachel is slamming against the door and pushing her way inside before she hurls.

Two steps behind her are the broad-shouldered guards, but Santana cuts their path and begins pointing up at the sign hanging over the door.

“No way! I’m not letting you pervs in there,” Santana huffs, “This is the ladies’ room, yours is just there.”

“Miss, please. Move!” One guard demands but Santana is stuck in her spot.

“You’re going to have to carry me off, you’re not getting by. Trying to sneak a peek at the women in there, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Santana argues, shoving the men back with her free hand while she tries hard to not spill her champagne.

The guards eventually give up and instead stay posted just a few feet away from the restroom doors to wait for Rachel’s exit. Santana stays there too, careful to stand just outside of the blind spot’s edge so that she’s conveniently on camera for all to see.

Every so often the two guards glare her way and she gives it right back.

\\

Inside the bathroom, Rachel stumbles into the last stall and drops to her knees before the toilet. Everything’s a blur; all she manages to focus on is aiming for the bowl. She feels so incredibly sick, she’s never felt anything like it before. Rachel’s skin feels clammy, her stomach is all in a twist and the nauseous feeling just won’t let up. The only thing that makes her feel any better is hurling.

Sugar appears out of the stall next to Rachel. Her nose is scrunched at the sounds the star is making, “This is so gross.”

“Quickly Sugar,” Mercedes warns, “Santana, you’re right on the edge of the blind spot. Stay right there. Quinn, ten seconds.”

Sugar nods and goes in after Rachel, “Oh no, you’re really barfing your guts out. You good?”

Rachel can vaguely hear someone come in the stall after her and soon a hand is rubbing gently at her back. It feels kind of nice and for a moment, she wonders if it’s Dani coming to check on her. She’s too preoccupied with throwing up to turn around and check though.

“You’re doing great,” Sugar prompts and just as Rachel heaves one more time, she’s able to unlock the necklace and quickly stuff it in her pocket.

Once she has it in her possession, Sugar makes her way out of the restroom.

\\

From her spot by the restroom door, Santana sees the busboy Quinn got moving approaching with his tray. She begins counting down in her head and glancing towards the door for Sugar’s exit.

3…2…1

Just as the door opens, Santana accidentally bumps into the incoming busboy who then swivels around just in time for Sugar to smoothly plant the necklace on his tray. It happens quick and the two guards are none the wiser.

“And he’s out of here! Everyone’s still in the dark,” Mercedes cheers as the busboy heads off to the kitchen.

Santana and Sugar share a smirk before Sugar slips into the men’s restroom to hide. Santana just takes a slow sip of her champagne, loving how the evening is progressing according to plan.

\\

In the kitchen, Brittany smiles proudly to herself then looks over to Tina who’s smiling back. They both look expectantly to the door, anxiously awaiting the busboy’s arrival. It’s meant to only take thirty seconds at the max for him to arrive, but it’s now verging on four minutes and he’s still nowhere to be found.

It puts Brittany on edge and she quickly presses at her earpiece, “Yo, where is this guy?”

From her spot by the bar, Santana straightens, “What do you mean?”

“No one’s come in yet,” Brittany explains. She keeps staring at the double doors as if she’s willing it to open and for this guy to come strolling through already.

In the food truck, Mercedes checks the cameras and instantly spots the busboy with another staff member chatting in the hall. She rolls her eyes at his behavior and goes to alert the team, “He’s in the hallway with some other kid.”

Santana tightens her grip on her glass, “Quinn, go kick his ass. He’s wasting time.”

From the dining room, Quinn nods and begins to quickly walk towards the hallway. When she gets near, she can already hear their voices from behind the door. She steels herself and slips on her bitch-face before slamming the door open.

“What the hell is going on here?” She snaps and the two busboys instantly look mortified, “Your job is to clear, not stand back here and chat. What’s the matter with you two? Move it! Let’s go.”

The two boys quicken their paces and get back to work with a renewed urgency while Quinn let’s out a relieved sigh.

“Good work,” Santana compliments, “Glad your mom-voice could be of some use.”

“Poor Beth,” Brittany teases too.

Quinn rolls her eyes at them both, “Shut up.” Then she glances up at the camera she knows Mercedes is bound to be watching and gives it a little wave before heading back to the dining area.

\\

Soon the busboy enters the kitchen and heads towards the dishwashing area to unload his tray.

“Hi, can you bring that tray here?” Tina asks before the guy can start to unload. He looks at her oddly before shrugging and bringing the tray over, “Thank you. I just love washing dishes by hand.”

“Sure,” He says dismissively before heading back out to the floor.

Tina dumps everything into the sink of soapy water and then feels around for the necklace. Although the sink is full of other dishes and utensils, the feel of the Toussaint is hard to miss. She lifts the weighty necklace from the soapy water and goes to rinse it off. It sparkles beautifully, even under the fluorescent bulbs of the kitchen.

“Oh my God, I’m holding 150 million dollars worth of diamonds,” Tina gasps.

“Stay focused,” Santana warns.

“Sorry, okay,” Tina takes a steadying breath before slipping the necklace in her pocket. She looks around at the other kitchen hands, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

No one even gives her a second look before Tina rushes to the staff bathroom. Inside the small stall, Tina pulls out her tools she concealed earlier and sets off in dividing the necklace.

\\

Back by the restroom Santana has been watching, she finally spots Rachel exit.

“Wow, that was such an experience,” Rachel sighs. She’s looking like a sweaty, disheveled mess but there is something noticeably different about her appearance: her neck is completely bare.

The two guards turn to her and gape.

“What?” Rachel frowns, “Why are you looking at me like that? Is it my make up? I tried to – “

“Move!” The guards demand and rush for the ladies’ restroom.

Rachel’s looking scandalized, as if a 150 million dollar necklace is more important than her well-being? It’s unheard of and she can’t wait to tell Cartier about their guards’ lack of empathy and compassion.

Fortunately for Rachel, Dani has been waiting off to the side for her to return. Dani approaches her looking rather worried and for a moment there, Rachel wonders if she had been waiting there all this time. Rachel hasn’t known Dani long, but she’s charming and attractive and the tabloids just love spouting rumors about their relationship. If Dani’s lucky, Rachel might just keep her around.

“Hey, are you okay?” Dani asks and Rachel is so relieved that someone finally cares that she almost died in there.

“Yes, thank you for asking,” Rachel smiles appreciatively.

Dani smirks, “Oh course. You had me worried. What’s going on with the guards?”

Rachel rolls her eyes at their mention, “Apparently the necklace is missing.”

Dani’s eyes drift down to Rachel’s neck and back up to meet her eyes, “Oh yeah, so it is.”

Suddenly the guards are exiting the restroom. Their facial features are harder than before while they talk amongst each other in a hushed tone It’s not looking good at all.

“Did you find it?” Rachel questions when the guards still haven’t gone over for an update.

They shake their heads and one of the guards steps forward, “We’re going to have to shut this place down so we can do a proper search.”

“What?” Rachel gasps, “Over a necklace? Is it really that serious?”

“Yes, it is extremely serious,” The guard nods.

Dani scoffs, “Well, I didn’t take it so can we just get back to dinner?”

Rachel and the guards look at Dani like she has two heads before the guards are waving her off.

“No. We can’t,” One guard replies and taps at his earpiece, “We’re going to seal the exits.”

“Oh my God,” Rachel groans, “This is unbelievable.”

The guards don’t really pay her any attention as they begin to herd the guests towards the front of the Met.

\\

From the food truck, Mercedes watches on with a careful eye as zones of the Met begin to filter out. At each exit, several guards are posted in order to check everyone individually for the Toussaint.

“Okay, everyone’s being moved to the entrance. Exits are being sealed now,” Mercedes alerts the team.

From the staff bathroom, Tina let’s out a shaky breath. She’s working diligently to break up the necklace but it’s probably her sloppiest work yet considering the time restraint. Regardless, she keeps her head down and stays focused as she keeps an ear out for Mercedes’ updates.

Within minutes, police and news vans are pulling up outside of the Met. It’s a flurry of police officers and camera crews wanting to get the first crack at this breaking story. Mercedes becomes giddy at watching all the chaos unfold from the safety of the food truck.

“Oh hell, it’s really going down out here! News vans and police have rolled up,” Mercedes adds.

\\

Santana is blending into the crowd as it starts to move towards the exit, but she tries her best to hang back and wait for her signal.

“How’s it looking on your side, Q?” She asks.

From the dining room, Quinn scans the area and looks over to the exit where guards are scanning everyone.

“They’re about halfway through in here,” Quinn says then glances over to Rachel’s table where the star sits with Dani and two guards, “Rachel’s still getting questioned too.”

At the table, the guard asking the questions sits stiffly before Rachel and asks, “You didn’t talk to anyone once you were headed for the bathroom?”

Rachel lets out an aggravated huff. She doesn’t know how many times she has to repeat herself. She’s recounted her journey several times already and it wasn’t anything special. She felt sick, she got up from the table, power-walked to the restroom and put her head in a toilet.

“Miss Berry, please. This information is very important,” The guard presses further.

Not one to mask her annoyance, Rachel rolls her eyes and says, “Like I said, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to converse with anyone. In case you didn’t notice, I was rather ill. I went from this table straight to the bathroom.”

\\

Back in the kitchen, Brittany anxiously awaits her signal. The guards have yet to come and clear out the kitchen and it’s important that Brittany’s out of there before that happens. When she checks the time again, she grimaces.

Time is running out!

There’s this energy and excitement coursing through Brittany’ body and she’s just itching to get the ball rolling already, but as time ticks away worry starts to chip away at her excitement. It’s becoming harder to keep her cool – usually she’s the most level-headed during a job – the longer she waits, but then suddenly there’s some static in her ear.

“Test. Test. You two hear me?” Mercedes asks.

Brittany’s never been so relieved to hear her voice and quickly replies, “Check.”

“Check,” Santana replies too. She has been evading the guards while she also waited for Mercedes.

“Okay. We’re secure. I’ve got eyes on the others so you’re free to move into position,” Mercedes instructs. This next part of the job only takes a select few to complete, so Mercedes patches them through to a private channel for the time being.

“Ready, Britt?” Santana asks.

Brittany beams with her infamous Pierce smile, “Whenever you are.”

“I’ll get into position,” Santana tells her.

Brittany nods and whips off her apron before tossing it on the counter. She heads over to area where Tina was once washing dishes and finds a slender man humming to himself in the corner while he scrubs at a pan. He’s tapping his foot to the rhythm as Brittany approaches.

She chuckles and goes to pat his shoulder, “Let’s go, Chang, it’s showtime.”

Mike Chang, former Olympic gymnast and personal friend of Brittany’s, spins on the spot and his bright smile matches the blonde’s. They’ve been in contact ever since Santana clued her in on this particular part of the job. When she had asked Brittany if she knew of anyone who was super flexible and down for a little thievery, Mike was Brittany’s first pick.

Mike quickly dries his hands on his apron before whipping it off as well, “Man, I’m relieved. My fingers were getting all pruney.”

Brittany scrunches her nose at the look of his hands, “Washing dishes is the worst.”

“Seriously,” Mike agrees before following Brittany as she retrieves their special cart.

With Mike at Brittany’s side, the two begin to make their way towards their destination. Most were too concerned with complaining about the evening’s interruption and making their ways towards the checkpoint to notice them sneak by the dining room. They kept up with their swift pace until they spotted Santana lingering by the entrance of their intended target.

“Wow Santana, you look…” Brittany couldn’t find a word worthy enough to describe the woman who stood before her. The hair, the makeup, the dress…everything about Santana was jaw dropping. It made Brittany’s outfit of chef whites seem so inadequate next to her.

Santana blushed at the compliment and tried to hide her coy smile behind her champagne flute. She knows she looks good and she has received compliments all night from strangers, but it does something different to her when they come from Brittany. With Brittany, she’s heard it all but the blonde’s flirty words never seem to lose its effect.

“No time for sweet talking, Britt,” Santana chastises lightly.

Brittany smirks, “There’s always time, especially when you look like that.”

From behind them, Mike looks at the two fondly. Like Quinn, he has also worked with Santana and Brittany on and off throughout the years. He’s also well aware of their little…dance.

“Hey Chang,” Santana finally tears her eyes away long enough to spot the gymnast lingering behind Brittany.

He bows his head politely, “Miss Lopez. You’re looking sharp.”

“Thank you. Well you two better get in there,” Santana replies with a nod to the exhibit.

Mike and Brittany give her a resolute nod and head inside, but not before Brittany steals a quick kiss from Santana.

\\

Once Brittany and Mike are in, everything becomes way more real for them. They’re surrounded by the crown jewels of eight different royal families and they’re going to nab them all.

Brittany’s quick to set up their cover. She pulls out a twenty foot selfie stick from the cart then attaches her phone to it before positioning it in before the exhibit’s camera. Mike’s already shedding his baggy chef pants and grey t-shirt covered in patches of drying dishwater to reveal the all black leotard he’s been wearing underneath. While Brittany moves on to unload the suspension system from the cart, Mike clips into his harness and shrugs on a backpack.

They both finish up around the same time and when Brittany spots his outfit, she smiles.

“You look like Catwoman,” Brittany points out then pauses to wonder, “Or Catman? Is there a Catman?”

Mike shrugs and adjusts his night vision goggles, “I have no idea, but I’m about to feel very Catwoman-like.”

Brittany nods and turns him around to load the suspension system into his backpack. Once everything is secure, she gives him a pat on the shoulder and he’s off. All Brittany can do is watch as Mike uses his height and agility to make it up onto the rafters. Brittany’s never not impressed by Mike’s fluid movements, he makes the most difficult of tasks look so easy!

Mike continues to stay focused as he moves along, careful to avoid the sensors as he goes and pray that he doesn’t make a wrong move and plummet into the moat below. Once he gets into position, he removes the suspension system from his backpack and begins to set it up. Brittany watches from below for a moment until she’s confident that he has everything under control up there.

When she’s satisfied, she heads back over to their cart and starts unloading waterproof bags containing replicas Tina made before. Brittany also unloads the small toy submarine she picked up the night before and sets it in the water. She attaches the first bag of replica jewelry and uses the toy sub’s remote controls to tow it in Mike’s direction.

It’s perfect time because Mike gets the suspension system online and begins his descent just as the bag of jewels arrives below. From there, it’s a simple switcheroo that they just have to repeat until they’ve wiped the entire exhibit.  

\\

Outside the exhibit, Santana has already had to redirect a guard’s attention. Luckily, she was able to smooth talk her way around it but she doubts she’ll be able to do that again. She keeps an eye on the time and tries to refrain from pestering Brittany and Mike.

“How we looking out there, Mercedes?” Santana asks instead. She hasn’t heard an update since this part of the job began, but she supposes that’s a good sign.

“Still on the hunt. We’re all good,” Mercedes replies almost instantly.

It’s a relief and she waits a few more minutes before she checks in with Brittany, “What about you, Britt?”

“Making great time. So glad Mike was free to do this. I’m flexible but not like this,” Brittany says and it makes Santana smirk.

“I beg to differ,” Santana flirts.

“Gross,” Mercedes feigns a gag.

Santana’s in mid laugh when another guard comes appears. Her smile quickly drops, “Fuck. Someone’s coming. Stand by.”

\\

The sound of slight panic in Santana’s voice has Brittany rushing to store the stolen jewels. Mike’s too far away for her to talk to, so she can only hope that he can feel the sudden tension and pick up the pace. They’re on the last display now which happens to be one large piece instead of several smaller ones so that’s at least a little good news.

In a matter of minutes, Brittany’s packing away the final bag and Mike’s ascending to the rafters to get packed up.

“Okay, we’re wrapping up now,” Brittany says.

Mike joins her a moment later and wipes the sweat from his brow, “That was fun.”

“Looked like it,” Brittany replies as she shuts the doors to the cart, “Now let’s bounce.”

\\

While Mike and Brittany retreat with the cart to the catering van and Santana hides herself away in a janitor’s closet to avoid the guards, Mercedes patches everyone back through to the main channel as she scans the cameras.

Santana’s safe. Quinn, Sugar and Emma are safe. Brittany and Mike are safe. Tina’s –

“Oh shit,” Mercedes gasps then presses to her earpiece, “Someone’s in the kitchen.”

From the staff restroom Tina whisper-yells, “What?! I’m not finished yet.”

Mercedes watches the man inspect the recently cleared kitchen. His movements are slow and methodical, “Tina, he’s right there.”

Tina shakes her head. Her hands remain steady although her heart rate spikes, “Just a few more minutes.”

From the janitor’s closest, Santana hangs on every word between the two but she knows when they’re pressing their luck.

“You’re out of time, Tina,” Santana warns.

Mercedes watches the guard cross the room. It looks like he has his eyes on the restroom door, “Guys…he’s close, just by the door.”

“Fuck,” Santana curses and she’s quick to think, “Q? Where are you now?”

Quinn lingers by the water in the dining room and replies, “The moat. What’s happening?”

“You have to pull it out of the water,” Santana instructs.

Quinn pauses, “What? That wasn’t the plan.”

“It doesn’t matter! Just do it, pull it out of the water. Hurry!” Santana urges.

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” Quinn replies and hastily lifts her dress to reveal the replica Toussaint hanging off of her thing by a garter. She makes a show of retrieving from the water and lifts it high as she calls out to the guards, “I found it!”

Guards rush to her in an instant to inspect it with Rachel and Dani close behind. With a once over, the guard radios in to the rest of his team, “We’ve found it.”

Mercedes watches the guard in the kitchen retreat without another look, “You’re good, Tina. He’s gone.”

From the Janitor’s closet, Santana slumps against the wall in relief, “Fuck. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”

“You and me both,” Mercedes replies with a light chuckle.

\\

Soon after the guards retrieve the necklace, the lockdown on the venue is lifted.

“Alright Sugar, you can move,” Mercedes instructs, “The lockdown is lifted.”

Sugar slips out from the men’s room and adjusts her blazer before heading towards the kitchen to meet with Tina. Santana exits the closet too and rejoins the rest of the guests while Mercedes goes to get changed into her evening dress.

\\

Sugar’s one of the first people to return to the kitchen and she beelines it for the staff restroom where Tina is just finishing up on the Toussaint pieces.

“Wow, that’s a lot of bling,” Sugar gasps and she’s almost star-struck as she reaches out to touch.

“Careful of the glue,” Tina warns before she takes it upon herself to load Sugar’s pockets with the new pieces of jewelry.

Sugar’s pockets are heavy and it makes her feel a little giddy that she’s basically wearing 150 million dollars worth of jewels, like she’s allowed to do it this time without fear of Santana scolding her. She thinks back to her leader’s pep talk from before about little kids dreaming about being criminals and she straightens up a little taller, because what she’s doing…it’s history in the making.

Once Sugar heads off, Tina leaves to get changed into her evening dress too now that her part of the job is over.

\\

Out around the venue, Sugar begins to distribute the jewelry amongst the team. First its Quinn then Mercedes – now all glammed up in a beautiful red dress – followed by a drop off to Emma and ending with Santana. All smooth handovers and nothing is suspected. Once Sugar has distributed everything, she slips away to get changed too.

Meanwhile out in a parking garage, Brittany has just finished stowing the catering van and the cart of jewels. Now she slips into her helmet and mounts her motorcycle, heading for a place to get gussied up like the others.

\\

Back inside, Santana lets the weight of the jewelry weight heavily in her palm while she keeps her eye on Dani who returns to the bar for another drink. Santana takes the brief moment to reflect on the past, their past. It wasn’t very long and it might’ve been a little bit of whirlwind, but she supposes it’s time to really look her pain in the eye and acknowledge it. Like Brittany said before, she doesn’t always have to pretend to be so tough. She can take a moment to honor her pain and how Dani hurt her.

And Santana does. She watches as Dani flirts with the bartender and smiles that same smug, shit-eating grin that once hooked her too. She takes in the expensive, designer suit Dani wears and wonders if it was the money they acquired together that paid for it. She remembers being in that interrogation room, remaining tight-lipped and loyal until she got word that Dani had cracked. She remembers feeling heartbroken. Not because she was in love with Dani, but because her trust was obliterated by Dani’s betrayal.

When Santana looks at Dani now, she just shakes her head. To think that she could ever get away with hurting Santana like that and not pay a price? She must’ve not known Santana at all to begin with. What Santana’s about to do now, it’s more than just payback. It’s more than just being petty or cruel.

This is for her.

So Santana makes her move. With a well-timed bump and avoidance of Dani’s eye, Santana manages to slip her piece of the Toussaint into Dani’s blazer pocket. When she feels it fall to the bottom of Dani’s pocket, it’s like the final piece of a puzzle sinking into place. It’s a great feeling and she disappears into the crowd of guests with the most proudest of smirks on her face.

Now, all there is left to do is enjoy the rest of their night. The entire team looks drop dead gorgeous, especially donning their new, custom-made jewelry.

\\

With spending most of her night amongst the guests and their pretentious attitudes, Santana doesn’t really want to hang around any longer than she has to. Instead, she slips away and heads out into the night. She might have just a slight buzz going – an open bar can do that – but she’s coherent enough to read a watch. When she checks hers, she frowns at the time.

She glances down the street then looks the other way and her frown deepens: Brittany’s late.

Or so Santana thought.

Brittany steps out from behind the food truck parked across the street and her eyes instantly find Santana’s. She’s dressed in a shimmering green suit and there’s this swagger to her step as she crosses that Santana can only sum up to being completely Brittany. There’s this lopsided grin filling her face too and Santana can’t help but mirror it as she nears.  

“Wow,” Santana breathes out once Brittany stands before her. Brown eyes rake up Brittany’s frame and it’s like Santana’s words fumble to land with grace, “You look…”

“Better than your ex?” Brittany supplies with a smirk. She can spot the telltale signs of Santana beginning to short circuit and she supposes it’s only fair considering Santana also left her kind of speechless earlier by the exhibit.

Santana chuckles and tugs Brittany in by her waist, “Way better.”

Brittany molds into Santana’s embrace easily and glances at the woman’s hairline, “The blonde surprised me. You really committed to the part.”

“Thought I’d switch it up,” Santana shrugs, “You like it?”

“I do,” Brittany beams before glancing down Santana’s cleavage, “I like this dress even better.”

“Yeah?” Santana asks, her tone growing husky at the hungry look in Brittany’s eye.

“Mhmm..” Brittany hums, “But I think I rather see you out of – “

“Dear Lord, Sweet Baby Jesus. Don’t finish that sentence,” Mercedes’ voice rings out startling the woman, “Take out your damn earpieces!”

Santana and Brittany laugh as they pull apart and send off their apologies before taking them out. While Santana stores them in her purse, she looks to Brittany and asks, “What took you so long before? I thought something happened.”

Brittany quirks a brow and goes to tease her with a poke to Santana’s side, “Were you worried about me? That’s cute.”

“No,” Santana blushes as she bats away Brittany’s hand, “I was just wondering. You’re never late.”

Brittany teasing grin turns mischievous as she lowers her voice enough to send a shiver down Santana’s spine, “You really wanna know?”

“Uh-huh,” Santana hums almost entranced. She watches Brittany lick her lips and she’s suddenly so aware of how long its been since she’s felt them on her skin.

“I slashed Dani’s tires after I parked the van,” Brittany admits slyly, “At least, I think it was Dani’s tires. I’m not one hundred percent sure but it still felt good.”

Santana bites her lip, “That’s so hot.”

“You think so? I thought about just taking it for a joyride and maybe parking it on a different level so she’d never be able to find it but that would be too time consuming,” Brittany explains before setting her hand on Santana’s hip, “I didn’t want to keep my girl waiting too long.”

Santana swoons and she can’t tell whether it’s because of Brittany’s suave ways or the fact that she was out slashing her ex’s tires in her honor or maybe it’s because they just finished up a huge part of the heist and everything went so smoothly. Her body is all a buzz, but she becomes more aware of the familiar throb.

“God,” Santana just about moans, “I’m so turned on right now.”

Brittany knows. She knew it the instant she uttered the words slashed Dani’s tires that Santana would become all hot and bothered.

“You and this thing with crime,” Brittany jokes, “It really gets you going, huh?”

Santana can only smirk, “Sex after a successful job is kind of tradition, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t take long before Santana’s pushing Brittany up against a streetlight and kissing her way along Brittany’s jawline. It’s about as public as they’ve ever been – not that it’s an issue – but it’s something new and that excites them both even more so.  

“But what about the Gala?” Brittany pouts half-heartedly, “Don’t you want to go inside?”

“I can think of somewhere else I’d rather be,” Santana replies smoothly.

Really, that’s all Brittany needs to hear before she’s relenting. She can scam her way into some other famous party another time, because right now all she wants to do is fulfill every dirty little tradition she and Santana has.

“You’re right,” Brittany mumbles against Santana’s lips. She places one last kiss there before nudging her away, “Let’s grab some champagne and churros while we’re at it!”

“Really go all out,” Santana jokes.

“Hell yeah!” Brittany beams and then the two of them are sauntering down the block hand in hand just coasting on that euphoric high of a job well done.

[captawesomesauce]

Thoughts at 11pm...

How long does it take to get an apt or small house... and furnish it???

As you know W got a job!!!!... that’s the good news....

The bad news is... W got a job.. over there!!!!!

By over there, I mean about an hour and a half away. 

So while the position is partially remote, it’ll involve a training period of having to go into the office every day, and since she doesn’t drive, that means I have to take her. 

Now my choices are

Drive the hour and a half there and hour and a half back... and then do it again 8 hrs later racking up the time, miles and gas on the car

Drive there and find a place to sit in the shade for 8 hrs and then drive back.

The first thing is possible but hell because of my health and headaches and other issues. I just don’t do well driving that much, especially day in/day out. Especially having to drive through downtown, past a major airport, and a bunch of interchanges in morning and evening traffic. - There is a longer route that is easier that I might do... it’s only 5 miles difference ... so 10 miles more each day... but... might be worth it. 

The 2nd is... well... 109-113 degrees in the shade. and because of my health, even though i’m vaxxed, it’s not safe for me to hang out at a McD’s or library. Also my meds are basically diuretics and laxatives... I spend most of my life in a bathroom.... how am I supposed to sit there for 10-12 hrs a day (with drive time) in the hot sun, hydrate, and not die? 

Times like this an RV would be nice! 

We’re going to have to get an apt or small house asap .... there’s just no other way around it. W doesn’t drive. So that’s a non-starter and there’s no public transpo option. 

So I’ll be getting up at 5am I guess! No more snuggles and sleep ins till noon... no more staying up till 4am talking... 

Fuck I hate capitalism.

But, it’s a good paying job, and that’s not been easy to come by recently, and it’s in her field and title which is what she needs to advance later, so I’ll suck it up, wake up early, drive even on my bad days, and do everything in my ability to love and support her :) 

and that’s where we stand for now....

[joshslater]

The Reformatory

A rewrite of jd07201990′s swimmer story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

T -1

Dear diary or however you are supposed to start.

So tomorrow is the big day. Dad and I are sleeping at a Holiday Inn at the other side of the state. Well, I'm obviously not sleeping. How could I? So I thought I should start a journal of some sort to document this experience.

Some background. Two months ago I was in a fight with Mark Samberg on the football team. It had gotten pretty bad between the football schmucks and us swimmers. The jockheads were constantly harassing us, calling us fags and prissy boys. It happened often and was getting boring. As the captain of the swim team I asked Mark to knock it off and get his players in line. Idiot as he is he tried to knock me out instead, and I lost it. In our scramble I managed to knock him down and was about to kick him in the shin when he shifted and instead I connected with his knee. Apparently it fractured. He'll be able to walk and even run, but he'll not be able to play again for years, so he lost his Scholarship.

His family sued everyone they could. Me, the school, the swim coach. In the end all the lawyers sat down in a room with a local judge and came up with something they all could agree to. Mark gets some study assistance to get his grades up, the school had this quickly brushed under the carpet, and could pretend I was never student there. Me not graduating wasn’t really a blow, as my college fund now went to pay for Mark’s education, as compensation. They were rich enough to afford it anyway, but they wanted to see punishment. I get the honor to spend the next 180 days at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where I will "participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs". They can tack on some extra days for bad behavior without going back to the judge, but essentially I get 6 months at bad boy camp for standing up to bullies.

What will I do there? No idea. The website talks a lot about work ethics and responsibility and working together with the local community. Sounds like labor camp to me. I'll guess we'll know tomorrow. But first we have to visit the hospital for a check up. My first day in prison will mostly not be in prison!

Day 1, Monday

We started with a checkup at the hospital, and man did they do a thorough job. Our appointment was at 10, but before that I had to fill out a form with 100 questions. The doctor spent more than 30 minutes doing the most extensive check I've ever had. Not only that, but after the check we had to go to the sample lab to draw blood, and finally I had a CT scan at noon. After that, and a quick lunch, we drove to the actual reformation center, which was in a smaller town 2 hours away.

It's an old boarding school building that they've turned into this "Reformation Center", and it clearly looks more like a prison than a school. Just a heap of two story brick and concrete buildings out in nowhere. Not much of security, but then everyone was there "voluntarily", meaning that we all had a proper punishment waiting for us if we left. I hugged dad goodbye and was shown to Mr. Kerwin’s office by the entrance guard.

Mr. Kerwin was a lean, ripped man in his forties that oozed military discipline. He explained that he was responsible for my rehabilitation and that he wouldn't start soft. He would give me a packed schedule, and if I didn't pull my weight he would add more days for "noncompliance". If I didn't like it I could run back to judge Stephenson and ask to start over in juvie.

Perhaps that would be better, because the schedule he showed me was totally insane.

4:30-5:00  Breakfast 5:00-8:00  Exercise pass 1 8:00-12:00 Work pass 1 12:00-12:30 Lunch 12:30-14:30 School 14:30-17:30 Work pass 2 17:30-18:00 Dinner 18:00-21:00 Exercise pass 2 21:30       Lights out

He explained that my breakfast, lunch and dinner would be pre-portioned and I was required to eat all of it. The exercise passes would be lead by himself or one of the assistants. Again, I would have to follow every instruction. The work passes were done at local businesses that wanted an extra hand, and changed depending on demand. The school passes were done as a group on whatever subject Mr. Reed selected.

Next he ordered me to get naked and place all my clothes on top of my bag and move to the other side of the room. Having done so he pointed at a stack of clothes on the table and told me to pick my size and get dressed. I quickly dressed in one of the track suits from the table. There was a baseball cap also, which confused me, but was told that it was instead of sunglasses when working outdoor.

With that I was given a rule book to study and was led by an assistant to my room where a dinner was waiting. Turkey, rice, water. I was reminded of lights out at 21:30 and wake up at 4:30. The assistant left and locked the door. 10 minutes later he came back with my journal book and pen, and told me that they'll keep the rest for now.

Having eaten the dinner and having three hours (I'm almost sure 21:30 is 9:30 PM) to kill before the lights go out I'm now summarizing the day. I'm sitting in something very similar to a prison cell. Bed, toilet, sink. Everything is clean, though somewhat worn. Looking into the mirror is kind of depressing though. I look like some jailed gang member.

It's kind of weird that I haven't met any of the other inmates, sorry students, here. I saw some of them while coming in, but perhaps this is their kind of hazing, or they do an official presentation tomorrow. Anyway, I should study the rule book and go to bed, since I didn't sleep much last night.

Day 2, Tuesday

So much to write about, so little time. I might have to split this into several entries since lights out is in 20 minutes.

I was awaken at 4:30 and given a tray with a large bowl of porridge and berries and some chalky smoothie or shake or whatever to drink. After that an assistant lead me to the gym room where we went over various machines, mainly for cardio. Elliptical, bike, treadmill. Weird thing was that it was only us two in the room during all three hours.

Sweaty and a bit tired I was then taken outside to a bus where some of the other boys where chilling. Apparently everyone else had breakfast between 7 and 8. They had no idea why I didn't join them there. The bus then drove around town and the driver announced who should exit where. My group of four people exited at a farm before town, only about 5 minutes away. I don't know exactly since I haven't been given my watch back.

There we spent hours just moving hay. Don't they know about tractors? Sweaty, itchy, tired and hungry we were then picked up and driven back. At lunch was the first time I saw the real common area. To my surprise there were more boys there than had been on the bus.

Everyone else could pick what they wanted from what was served, but I was given a ready tray with an heap of salmon and pasta. I was starving though, so it wasn't a problem to eat it all. I didn't have much time to talk, but the guys at my table were nice. Somewhat rough, as could be expected. Apparently you were chosen for the different work assignments, and if you were not picked you stayed at the center for sports or craft or similar things.

After Lunch followed a session with Mr. Reed. The first boring hour was on English grammar and the second boring hour on US geography. I aced the quizz getting all 50 states and state capitols right, so I didn't learn anything new after that. Then Mr. Reed announced who had work assignments, and I was again selected.

This time I and Troy were dropped off at a different farm where we spent almost three hours helping with fencing. Mainly carry posts and sawing them to length.

For dinner I had some meatballs with roasted sweet potatoes while everyone else had meatballs with tomato sauce. Mr. Kerwin picked me up and led me to the gym. Unlike the morning session this was all about weight training. Most of it was on finding my limits for different exercises while Mr. Kerwin pointed out how I could improve my form. You could tell that this was what he liked to do, and encouraged me to push a bit further. Once we were done I had a bottle of post workout mix of some sort and a very quick shower before rushing back to my room.

Here's the thing. My room is on a different floor than the other guys. Also, my schedule appears to be different and much more rigid than the rest of the guys. I also

Day 3, Wednesday

I couldn't finish the last entry before they cut the light. My entire body is in pain right now. I woke up like that, and it didn't go away all day. Same schedule as yesterday, but different tasks and different dishes. The assistant really pushed today during the morning session, so I was exhausted already at the bus. Planting bushes at the city park all morning didn't help. I got some rest during Reeds rehash of elementary math. Then back to doing fences, and top it all off with weight training. I asked Mr. Kerwin about the schedule and why it was so different from everyone else’s. He said that everyone's schedule is individual and that he'll adjust mine as needed.

One more weird thing before I fall to sleep. Everyone else is using their normal clothes. I haven't gotten mine back yet.

Day 4, Thursday

FUCK! I was back on moving hay today again, with Sam, Trevor and Rick. I'm still hurting like hell and Rick is one lazy motherfucker, so old fart Farmer Joe decided to complain. The end result is that I am getting 2 days added for noncompliance. Sam, Trevor and Rick got nothing. WTF!

Day 5, Friday

We were carrying merchandise all morning and Troy heckled me on how I got more days because of the piece of shit Rick. But he then said that it was a weird coincidence that every work shift I've been on has been the toughest one.

Instead of going to class I met with the doctor from the hospital who made a visit. He asked me about how I felt, where I was sore etc. Then he gave me an injection which he said would ease things for me. I didn't feel much different, but I was getting really sleepy getting back to Mr. Reeds class, but it might just be that everything he did was too simple and boring.

Apparently while I had a check up Troy had shared his theory about me being a work magnet, so there were some groans from the guys placed in my group. God damn fence work again.

Man, I'm tired. I was tired even before Mr. Kerwin gave me the toughest weight pass ever. Fuck, I'm tired.

Day 6, Saturday

So the weekend schedule is different. There is still a morning work pass, basically only used by the local farmers. But the afternoon is free both on Saturdays and Sundays. Conditions and terms applies, apparently. Since I haven't done any cleaning or dishes all week (how could I?), I'm assigned washing clothes, sheets etc. Man, how much better it is to carry laundry than hay. Best job assignment all week. Lots of downtime. Only real drawback is all the humidity. It’s steamy AF here.

Still fucking 3h workout pass in the morning and evening. The other boys were pretty vocal in mocking me on my way to the gym.

Day 7, Sunday

So the day started out as any other so far. Woke up sore. Breakfast alone and 3 hour gym session. There are no work passes outside LARC on Sundays, so I was hit with cleaning, together with Kyle G. and Rick. Rick ghosted after like three minutes, but KG did a solid work. It took us all the time til lunch though to finish it.

Then my first free couple of hours all week. It’s insane. The other guys were low key avoiding me, so I did what Mr. Kerwin had suggested and had a walk in the forest. It was actually kind of nice, and for some weird reason I didn’t feel like sitting still.

Day 8, Monday

Same shit again. Mr. Kerwin gave me a shot in the arm this evening. Apparently I’ll have one each Monday from now on. Whatever.

Also I found out today that the others don’t have formal lights out. I’m on my own floor so they can lock me up and cut the power. What the fuck?

Day 9, Tuesday

That fucker Rick slacked off again, taunting me about another two days. Ha! I got 10. Mostly for kicking him in the teeth. They locked me in my room, so I had lunch there and sat in this boring ass cell during class and work. Fuck, I don’t know what’s worse. I had to do some body weight exercises to keep sane. Fuck this shit.

Back again. I still got to have my evening workout. Kerwin was pushing harder than ever. The order of exercises was different too. Apparently to make the major muscles tired so smaller muscle groups then get to work. Or something. I don’t give a shit.

Day 11, Thursday

They fucking work now, don’t they the little shits. They know I ruined someones career to get here and another one for slacking off. They better pull there weight

Day 14, Sunday

I think I’ll stick to just write on Sundays. There is only half an hour from evening gym to lights out, so there isn’t much time for writing. I’ve even skipped shower a few times. It’s not like it matters when you start every fucking day getting soaked with cardio. Not like there are any girls around to impress either. Sunday has a different vibe tho. Cleaning, running in the forest and taking a long shower.

Starts and ends with fucking gym time though.

Day 21, Sunday

I really fucking like the forest runs. Its like you don’t have to think and can just run wherever and grab whatever and smash whatever. Fucking love it

Day 28, Sunday

Yay! A full fucking month!

It’s crazy though how much stronger I’m. I have gone up one size larger track suite and 2 sizes larger sneakers. Working hard to make me the best I guess.

Day 42, Sunday

guess i forgot about writing last week. i think the monday shots make me angry or something because last week fucked up someone else on tuesday. at least they all give me fucking respect at least.

Day 92, Monday

i dont give a shit abot reeds borin ass lessons and they fuckin repeat on a loop or some shit. today he was back on gramr and the states. i most time dont fill out his shit but wanted to do it again today. fucking aced most of the states. not so good on the capitols tho

Day 203, Sunday

only 2 weeks left tomorrow lol then im gonna yeet the fuck outta here !!!! adios motherfuckas

Mr. Kerwin enters the room, carrying a folder, and walks behind his desk, not even looking at me. I am sitting in his precious fucking antique chair I pulled from the corner. He’s sitting his ass down, rifles through the papers in the folder and starts to read from one of them.

“John Hamlin agrees to 180 days of rehabilitation training at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where he will participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs, with a possible extension of 30 days for noncompliance and a possible extension of 60 days for infractions as described by the Juvenile Rehabilitation Act (JuRA), section 1103 (b).”

He looks up at me. It sounded like easy shit when I said yes to it. I thought half a year in a bad boy summer camp, or worst case something like prison, but that would have been miles better than this fucking non-stop hard labor shit. And 180 days was a fucking joke. They never fucking intended that to be the actual time. Have someone else slack off and the slap another 2 days to the time. Kick a chair to pieces, 5 days. Punch a guy for being a cunt, 10 days. I’m close to having another fucking outburst again. It must be all that fucking shit they put in the food or shakes or whatever. I fight it. I don’t want to show any emotion in front of him. I don’t think he buys my shit.

“There is another document in the agreement that you haven’t heard. This one between Mark and judge Andrews.”

He pulls out another paper from the folder and read it.

“The state hereby directs Mark Samberg, or person(s) by him so designated, to design and oversee the rehabilitation program of John Hamlin to be administrated at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center. This includes physical exercises, physical therapy, education, consoling, dietary plan and medication, as long as it fulfills the positive development criteria (Appendix D), is within the available services at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center (Appendix A) and within the given budget (Appendix C). Additional services require external financing and approval from the Reformation Center management (Appendix B).”

That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why the hell had the judge put Mark in charge of my schedule? I understand why he’d want to make the experience suck as much as fucking possible for me, by why had everyone agreed to it? Kerwin looks at me as if he can read an open book.

“You are wondering what has happened to you. What was the meaning of all this? Stand up.”

I jump to my feet. There are still weeks he can add to my time here, and I don’t want to give him any fucking reason to add some shit.

“Stand with your feet as close together as you can.”

He’s never asked me to do that before. I can easily tap me feet together, but I can’t really stand still with my feet right next to each other for long. What the fuck is this bullshit? My thighs are too massive for that.

“Sit down again.”

He leans back and watches me with a bemused smirk.

“Imagine that you’d been away from swimming half a year. Even if you kept in shape it would take you months to be back in good enough technique to clear the swim team tryouts. But you have not kept in shape, have you? You have a completely new shape.”

The blood is draining from my face. I understand where this is going.

“With your upper body build you can physically really only do butterfly strokes properly, but if you can’t bring your feet together the leg kick will just be a wild thrashing of water. You swimming medley would be a hilarious joke. We haven’t even talked about you almost doubling in weight, and how much more oxygen you would need to swim. Sure, you are much stronger now, but old you would swim circles around new you. And that is of course the point. If Mark couldn’t have his sports career, he didn’t want you to have yours either. And the judge agreed.”

I’m surprised that the chair doesn’t break, as hard as I’m squeezing it. I’m boiling with fucking rage. I have to really focus to not to act on it.

“Now the judge specifically set out that this transformation couldn’t be punishment in itself, but rather that you were trained in a way that just wasn’t optimal for swimming. We may have gone a bit overboard with the body building to leave you many options though. You’ll obviously never be competitive in anything with speed or agility, like football or boxing. The metabolic conditioning, hormone treatment and gene therapy have far to long lasting effects to change you back from where you are now. You could try wrestling or weight lifting though, unless you mind showing your erection through spandex.”

“What the fuck?”, I said, as much as a general question to all the things he’d said. What does metabolic conditioning mean? Gene therapy? Erections?

“The medical regimen that Marks family found for you kind of put the feet on both the gas and the break at the same time. It forces the body to grow a lot at the same time as we try to stop it, so it has to try even harder. By injecting stem cells with the right CRISPR-modified DNA we could get rapid, major and long lasting changes. Well, I say we, but all I did was to make sure you kept to the exercise regimen, for a little cash on the side… Surely you didn’t think you got larger feet and dick from eating much and working hard?”

I don’t understand exactly what they done to me, but the result is pretty fucking clear. There was no way I would swim competitively ever again, if I could even fucking swim at all now. I would come out of here looking like a fucking balloon animal muscle jock, and shedding the muscles back to where I were would take shitloads of years.

“The hormone treatment finished two weeks ago and last blood sample shows that your natural hormone levels will keep you muscled and pumped probably well into your forties. So this morning I also cut you off from all suppressive medication as well. That is going to spike your hormone levels and mess quite a bit with you, so we need to see just how badly fucked up you are before we can release you.”

“The good doctor say that you’ll be more irritable and have more excess energy than before. Both something you can work on with regular, hard exercise. But I want to see where you really are at now, so starting today you’ll have no required gym time and labor passes. You can wake up when you want, eat what you want and do what you want.”

“You said erections?”, I asked.

“Yeah, the suppression medication should have kept you limp. You haven’t jacked off while here, have you? Well, you heard what I said about gas and break and compensation. Your body has been pumping massive amounts of hormones into your blood, and will continue to do so. But now that you don’t have the suppressives anymore you should expect to be horny for the next decade or two. You’ll be nothing but a lumbering muscle dildo.”

There’s a crack somewhere inside the wood of the armrest. Fucking fourteen more days, I have to remind myself. Don’t fuck any shit up before then. If I let go of the chair I’m quite positive I will knock him the fuck out. Fourteen fucking more shit days.

[irene-sadler]

Sir Reynard and the Red Knight

notes: 1. here's a (relatively) short n' interesting discussion of the history of the St. Bartholomew Day Fair in London, which was held roughly annually from sometime in the 12th century to sometime in the 19th century. I casually yanked some ideas (ull find this thing about rabbits casually mentioned with no explanation in the source) from events that took place at this specific festival to apply to my much much smaller Winter Solstice Fair held in Rivia.

translating any irl medieval holiday/fair/feast into a fantasy setting is a lil tricky b/c 95 percent of what happens and what makes them so interesting (to me anyway) is tied up in and totally inseperable from medieval Christian religious expression. however, when a lot of my source material was written (usually several hundred years ago bc public domain ebooks) there were still some weird obviously pre-Christian traditions in common use in parts of England. more on this next chapter b/c some of them are fuckin bizarre and so ofc I ganked them.

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8.

The next day dawned cold, but the blue cast to the sky promised clear weather. The Queen had long since collected a list of names from a page, and sat scribbling figures and notes in the margins as she considered the best way to arrange forty contestants into equitable matches. Isbel proved unsurprisingly unhelpful; the Baroness, however, offered advice on the matter in a slightly imperious tone:

    “There’s no way to match these names up, by perceived skill, and if you try there will be hurt feelings. Random selection won’t answer, either; my suggestion is to choose from whoever is standing around when we arrive and let them sort themselves out as best they can after.”

    Meve shuffled the papers a moment, admitted to herself that she had no better ideas, and nodded grudgingly.

    “Yes, you’re probably right. First come, first served it is, then. Here, look after these,” she said, handing the papers over to the older woman, “I have to go; the Mayor will be wanting something from me within the hour and I’ve other matters to attend to, first.”

    She left the Baroness and Isbel eyeing each other suspiciously over their breakfasts and strode rapidly away to the stables. Reynard’s horse, dozing alone in his stall, greeted her with polite disinterest; she spotted a light flickering from inside a little storage room nearby, where she found his owner carefully examining his armor under Pug and Gaspar’s vacant stares. Reynard smiled tightly at her, Gaspar glowered from under his unkempt hair, and Pug sketched a lazy gesture resembling a salute.

    “Anything to report?” she asked them all, in a slightly falsely cheerful tone. Reynard glanced at Gaspar, who eyed Pug, who squinted up at the Queen through her single eye.

    “Well, someone came in after midnight rung, but we put an end t’ his fucking skulking, quick,” she explained, then pointed at a few dark spots on the dirt floor. “And you can see the blood right there.”

    “So you can,” Meve said, not at all displeased. “Don’t suppose you managed to get a look at the culprit?”

    Pug shook her head, then, considering a moment, noted, “A tall bastard, whoever. Gaspar got ‘im right in th’ ankle from the shadows.”

    “Tall, with a limp,” the Queen considered.

    Gaspar hesitated, and brushed his hand against his own pox-scarred face, glancing at Pug.

    “Might’ve had a beard, also,” she translated.  “Hard t’ say anything else.”

    “Better than nothing at all to go on. Where’s Gascon?”

    Reynard shook his head. Gaspar glanced at Pug again; she chewed her right thumbnail and shrugged idly.

    “Don’t know,” she said, cooly studying the dried blood on the floor; a breathless page then hustled in, bowed to all present - Pug croaked a laugh at him - and announced that the Mayor requested the Queen’s presence, urgently.

    “What, already?” she asked. “All right; tell him I’ll be along shortly. You two can go as well,” she added, to the brigands, “Thank you for your assistance, and tell the Duke to report to me the moment you next see him.”

    “As for you,” she added quickly to Reynard, as soon as the room cleared out, “In case I don’t see you later - “

    He put his helm down wordlessly, stepped across the few feet between them, and kissed her; she took her time pulling away, despite the city government’s looming crisis, and said, “Good luck, not that you need it; I look forward to your victory.”

    “Yes, thank you,” he said, somewhat embarrassed, “I’ll do my best.”

      An hour later, the event was already underway. The brilliant sun pulled a faint fog from the frozen ground, and flashed on the armor of the first two contestants as they met with a resounding crash.

    “Coll, and Bohault,” Giselle reported; they had put her in charge of keeping track of the course of the jousts, and she accordingly drew a bold check in red ink beside Bohault. The Queen nodded her congratulations to the man, who returned her notice with an answering, professional jerk of his head. The next contestants were familiar, as well, and the third set strangers, not unexpectedly; twenty rounds had to be got through, and some of the names on the list had a distinctly foreign flavor. One such man, called Devyn, provided the judges’ first opportunity to deliberate, as he and John Kimborne knocked each other down in the same moment.

    “Sir Kimborne’s a proper knight, which ought to count for something,” Meve said, “And that sweep with the lance on his opponent’s part was, I believe, not quite legal, which is no doubt why he was unseated.”

    “It’s hardly Devyn’s fault that he’s from Novigrad, which doubtless is why he didn’t know not to do that,” Giselle said, smiling encouragingly at the young man. “Also, I think he is well, you know, handsome, for a foreigner.”

    “Yes, I’m sure you do,” the Baroness said, rolling her eyes. By unspoken consent, she reigned as their chief; accordingly, when she pointed impatiently at the knight, her decision was accepted without further comment and the contest carried on. They made good time under her able command, assisted by the timely appearance of mulled wine and sandwiches at midmorning. The names and men rolled by, ticked off in red; they made it past the unpronounceably named Sicg Sicgurdssen, a group of brothers whose names all began with with same letters, Ethan, who put the third and final of the brothers down and received a brilliant smile from Giselle in reward, and as, the Baroness and Queen grew bored and were chatting idly about the relative merits of different styles of tilting helms, Sir Holt, who won his match easily. The Queen eyed him darkly and then abruptly lost interest in side conversation as Reynard appeared, defeated a man named Hall in a few passes, and departed again. The Baroness accepted the sudden silence with faint amusement.

    “Nolda,” Giselle read, next, “And Sir Eres. That’s the knight, there. Who is Nolda?”

    Meve cracked a surprised, but pleased, smile, pointed across the field, where a lanky woman in well-used armor stood apart from the other contestants and said, pleased, “That is Nolda; she was an Aedirnian defector, fought for us in Angren. I hadn’t known she was still here in Rivia; I thought she’d have gone back home.” The Baroness squinted at the woman, with a thoughtful air. Sir Eres scowled at his opponent, glanced hopefully toward the judges, found no leniency in their stony stares, shut his visor and rode to his place. The match lasted all of ten seconds: Nolda held her lance left-handed, at an odd diagonal angle, and then at the last moment straightened it, smacked her opponent’s spear aside with a sweep of her shield, and knocked him away. The Baroness hummed thoughtfully under her breath.      

    “Unusual tactic, but not, I as far as I know, illegal,” Meve commented. Giselle shrugged and crossed out Sir Eres’ name, as the knight picked himself up and stalked angrily toward the judges.

    “It may not answer a second time, but it certainly took him by surprise,” the Baroness said, agreeably, and added, to the clearly disgruntled man, “What’s the problem?”

    The problem was that Sir Eres was a sore loser, Giselle supposed; Meve privately suspected it had as much to do with Nolda herself than it did with his defeat at her hands, but if he was hoping for sympathy he found none. The Baroness turned him away with a few blunt phrases and the contest continued.

    By noon, they had only three names left. Giselle read them off in a doubtful voice: Brossard, Gaheris, Saban. They sent a page to find out where the absentees had got to, and took a break. Giselle hurried off into the crowd with a promise to return in due time, and Meve and the Baroness settled into a debate of the various methods of arranging the second round and soon arrived at a prospective bracket. The page returned, indicated a short, bearded warrior on a sturdy horse, said, “The dwarf, there, is Saban; as for the Duke, nobody seems to know where he might be found, and the squire Gaheris is injured and can’t fight.”

    “I suppose, under the circumstances, that we could simply advance Saban to the second round,” the Queen remarked, frowning at the news of Gascon’s absence, as Giselle came running, slightly flustered. “You’re late,” she added, to the younger woman. Giselle flushed and looked apologetic.

    “Someone had let a bunch of rabbits out into the street, and a crowd of boys was chasing ‘em,” she explained, and then, spotting something on the field, abandoned the tale and gasped, “Look!”

    Meve turned and smiled as she was finally proved right: a man in black armor, mounted on a black horse, sat at the farther end of the barriers. He slowly pointed his lance at Saban, who turned to stare at the judges, baffled. Meve shrugged at him, which he seemed to take for permission; he pulled his helmet on briskly and kicked his horse toward the appointed starting position without delay.

    Saban rode well, but it was obvious that he was an amateur; the black knight unseated him in their first pass without apparent effort. He stood, collected his lost helmet from the ground, picked a clod of dirt out of the visor, and shrugged pragmatically. Meve squinted at the departing black knight’s back, and said, “Well, that was - quite interesting. On to the next round, I suppose. Who is it, Giselle?”

    It was Bohault and the unfortunate Ethan, who stood no chance against the veteran; he received another, slightly less congratulatory smile from Giselle, who then drew a second mark beside the soldier’s name.

    “So,” Meve said to the Baroness, conversationally, watching the next combat with a fine appearance of attention, “Care to make a prediction on the winner, yet?”

    “Of this match? Sir Brewes,” the older woman replied promptly; the knight in question was unseated by his opponent a half minute later. Meve smiled smugly at the winner.

    “Nolda seems to be doing well for herself, doesn’t she? - but I meant overall, in general.”

    “Ah. Well, Sir Odo, Sir Kimborne, perhaps Sir Holt if should he get lucky with his matchups -”

    “What about that black knight?”

    “Oh, him? Well, it’s hard to say, for sure.”

    The conversation paused again as Count Odo made his second appearance, against Sicg, the knight from Skellige. The Count won his second match far more quickly than he had his first. Meve, knowing from long experience that he had been studying the competition for most of the last round, to prepare himself, was unsurprised.

    “Although,” the Baroness continued thoughtfully, as he rode away, “I have seen a black knight fight at a recent tourney, I can’t say as it’s the same one who’s here today. Armor can be changed, but this one doesn’t seem to have the same style, at all. However, he does seem familiar, but they all do after near thirty-five years of watching them in tournaments. Almost all, at least.”

    Meve was growing used to the older woman’s subtle hints, and therefore was sure she’d caught a significant note in her comments. She thought back to the tournament, suddenly recalled the Baroness’s parting behavior with a frown, and re-evaluated her previous assumption: perhaps, after all, there was no confusion about herself and Gascon, and - she realized with mild annoyance - the Baroness had figured out the true reason for her absences, one way or another, but said nothing about it at the time. The same gleam of a secret joke was in the other woman’s eye when she looked away from the field, where Sir Holt was riding away from yet another victory. Meve stared at her, momentarily at a loss. The Baroness smiled slightly and looked back to the lists.

    “So,” the Queen asked, deciding it was best to not to inquire further, “Who do you think it could be, this time?”

    “I’m not sure; I’ll need more time to consider the matter,” the Baroness said, as the black knight returned, last of the pack again, and lined up against Sir Orlac, who had been lingering about as if waiting for him.

    “They’ve fought before,” Meve said, remembering suddenly. “Sir Orlac received an unexpected cold bath, as I recall.”

    Sir Orlac took his second defeat and stood up, swearing loudly at the black knight’s back.

    “At least he didn’t get wet, this time,” she added.

    “What a fall,” Giselle said, “Do you think he’s hurt?”

    The knight was limping slightly, but Meve shrugged dismissively and said, “Oh, no. He’ll be fine. Anyway, who do we have left?”

    Giselle held up the list; the Queen glanced at the six names remaining, nodded, and signaled to the herald.

      “This is going well,” she reflected, after watching Nolda defeat Bohault, to acclaim from the growing audience. “Perhaps I should do it again, next year, but with fewer participants, so it doesn’t take all day.”

    “Hm,” the Baroness said noncommittally, and then, during the next fight, “I do believe I like Sir Kimborne’s chances to win out; what do you think, young lady?”

    Giselle considered.

    “Well, the black knight’s very mysterious; it would be interesting if he won, like a ballad.”

    Nobody bothered to ask Meve for her opinion, but she took no notice, as she was closely watching the knight in question and Sir Holt ride onto the field. The black knight sat dead still on the nearer side, but the red knight passed him and approached the judges, scowling. The Baroness addressed him, in a tone that rivaled Meve’s for arrogance:

    “What’s th’ issue, sir?”

    “I don’t want to fight this - this fellow,” he said, sulkily. “It ain’t proper.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Well, for one, he might not even be a knight; it could be anyone under all that armor - any man at all, or a woman, even, for that matter.”

    “Heard this sort o’ thing before, a hundred time,” Giselle said quietly to Meve, “He’s chicken.”

    “I heard that,” the knight growled. Giselle blinked innocently at him.

    “Well, your other option is Sir Kimborne,” the Baroness said, growing slightly annoyed. Sir Holt opened his mouth, then closed it with an uneasy frown, obviously unsatisfied by the alternative offer.

    “Didn’t this same knight defeat you, a month or two ago? I would think you’d want to avenge your loss,” the Queen noted, idly. He scowled at the reminder, clearly inclined to argue further. The Baroness turned a hostile glare on him; he thought better of it and rode away, muttering, to take his place by the barricade.

    “What an ass,” Meve said.

    The knights completed a pass, to no avail on either side.

    “Didn’t your man Odo duel him, lately?” the Baroness said. “Can’t say I blame him, now, though I thought his behavior uncharacteristically impulsive at the time. Watch and see if the red knight don’t overcommit on this next run.”

    He did, badly; instead of his usual hesitation, he drove in a rush. Meve suspected he had lost his temper. The black knight took the attack on his shield and turned it away.

    “Yes, well, next time I’ll leave you to deal with him instead,” Meve remarked. “It seems to be more effective.”

    Sir Holt took his third run far more cautiously; his usual hesitation returned, and Meve glanced downward to hide a malicious smile as the black knight took advantage, aimed true, and knocked his opponent down hard.

    “I have five sons,” the Baroness replied, flatly. “Th’ egos of these fool knights can’t compare.”

    Gaheris limped heavily onto the field and collected Sir Holt; Meve looked from him to the black knight, who appeared to be watching the squire closely, a slight frown crossing her face. Giselle, meanwhile, made a bold red mark through the loser’s name and said, “It’s Sir Odo and Sir Kimborne, now.”

    It was a fight that the Baroness watched approvingly, making comments to Giselle, as Meve was, again, distinctly uninterested in conversation. The Count finally wore his opponent down from sheer weariness after half a dozen passes, drawing a pleased smile from the Queen. They then broke off for ten minutes, reckoning it was only fair to let their last three knights have a rest before the end. The judges spent the time in conference, deciding how to arrange their semi-finals; the no-shows had ruined their early arrangements, leaving them with an odd number of contestants. The Baroness eventually ruled that Sir Odo, being the senior knight, should be given a free round, and Nolda and the stranger would go against each other, as a result. Meve squinted at her.

    “Have you really not figured the black knight out, yet?”

    “Oh,” she said, mysteriously, “I think that by the time we’re done, we’ll know who he is, one way or another.”

      The black knight, however, did not appear when summoned along with the other two, leaving Nolda sitting alone at the barricades. Reynard, after a while, offered to go against her, on the chance that the third contestant would turn up very late to fight the last match; Nolda agreed, somewhat reluctantly. The Baroness overruled them, claiming that there was no knowing whether their third party would actually appear. The contestants therefore settled in to wait, Reynard with a distant frown and Nolda looking moderately suspicious of the sudden delay. The crowd chattered in the background, bored and uncertain of the future prospects for its entertainment.

    “How long are we going to wait?” Giselle asked, five minutes later; the black knight had failed to show.

    “Damn him,” Meve snarled quietly, “I planned this blasted event to flush him out, and he still somehow slipped away through my fingers. What now?”

    Giselle stared at her; the Baroness sighed and said, “Well, th’ only thing we can do is declare the match forfeit; Nolda will just have to fight Sir Odo, gods help her.”

    The contestants were summoned and the plan explained to them. Nolda did not seem overly relieved at being spared the black knight, probably due to being confronted with the Count as a result. He himself appeared mildly perturbed by the unusual situation, glanced at Meve’s tense smile, and said nothing.

    “I don’t know as it’s necessary that the Count should go against me now,” Nolda said doubtfully, “To tell the truth, I’m only here because Captain Bohault - he’s my husband - said could do better than me at this game, which I’ve proved he can’t.”

    “That you have,” the Queen said, mildly amused despite herself, “But the contest has to be won by someone. If you’re intending to spare Sir Reynard a fall on account of his age, I assure you there’s no need.”

    Nolda, who appeared to be roughly the same age as the knight, frowned, apparently unsure whether the Queen was joking. Sir Reynard’s expression turned mildly pained, but he did not roll his eyes at her.

    “I have no objections,” he said, stiffly. Nolda shrugged and said, “Well, I’m game, then.”

    “Good,” the Baroness said, “We’ll start in twenty minutes.”

    The combatants rode down to opposite sides of the field, where Reynard sat on his horse, exchanging a few words with his squire. Nolda stood at her horse’s head, deep in conversation with Bohault; the occasional audible phrase and the cavalryman’s complicated hand gestures suggested a strategy session was underway. Meve struggled to appear neutral, if she couldn’t manage anything else, despite her continued irritation at the black knight’s disappearance. The effort became supremely more difficult as, from behind and under the stands, a familiar voice whispered, “Meve! I mean, Your Majesty! I need t’ talk to you.”

    She turned, slowly, forced a casual tone, and said, “Ah, Duke Brossard. I’m glad you’ve decided to join us at last.”

[olionheartedgirlo]

I Will Possess Your Heart / Part 10

Well well well...my first foray into writing in almost 4 years? Glad to be back I think. I hope I haven’t lost my touch.

Enjoy everyone!

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“You want me to teach you how to be human?” You echoed, your brow furrowing as you pulled away to look at his whole face.

“Yes.”

“But why?”

“The humans I am doing business with are not very trusting of me and I believe that if I adopt some traits that are familiar to them they will let their guards down.” Sehun brushed a strand of hair out of your face absentmindedly, his eyes glossy with a far away look.

“Sehun.” You tried to draw his attention back to you, unsuccessfully. “Sehun,” You turn his face towards you. “It’s not a big deal. I will help you.”

“Thank you.” He lightly brushes his lips over your cheek again, sending a wave of tingles through your body.

“This is the perfect time for the first lesson then.” You got up, grabbing his hand awkwardly to stand him up beside you.

“Already?”

“Yes, already.” You sigh and he stares at you. You do it again trying to get him to understand. “Sehun, you need to sigh. When you’re exasperated, tired, relieved. There is literally almost no situation where sighing doesn’t make you look human.”

“Just a sigh?” He cocks his eyebrow.

“If you’re doubting my expertise you can find a new teacher.” You say, feigning curtness, you start to turn towards the door.

“No wait.” Sehun grabs your wrist to keep you near him. His grip on you is strong, it doesn’t hurt but it makes you feel a certain way you can’t put your finger on.

Fear?

His eyes are dark, nearly completely black when you look up at him. Only for a moment though and after that moment is gone it is like it never happened, but the feeling lingered subtly.

He stands straight, hands at his sides and takes a breath in, letting it out in a funny, exaggerated manner. When you don’t say anything he does it again. You have spent so much time around vampires for the last 500 years that you didn’t realize how accustomed you were to people not moving. Yes, your family all worked at maintaining their natural human traits to blend in with society, but very few vampires felt the same way, leaving you to be the odd one out.

“No, no, stop.” You shake your hands in front of you to exaggerate your need for him to stop. “That doesn’t look natural at all. You don’t have to take in air like you are going to blow up a balloon. See, just like this,” You take in a light breath through your nose, smelling Sehun’s cologne in the process. “Just a little bit.”

Sehun’s eyes flashed again, startling you.

“Maybe that’s enough for tonight.” You say, taking a step back. “You’re probably tired from traveling so much. You should rest.” He clears his throat, subconsciously testing out another human trait.

“I suppose you are right.” He agrees hesitantly. “I may lay down for an hour or so.”

“Have a good rest, Sehun.”

He walks you to the door of his room and you take in the carvings the oak, avoiding eye contact.

“________,” He steps in front of you, practically forcing you to look at him. “Goodnight.”

Sehun leans down to give you a kiss, but as he is about to touch his lips to yours you turn your head, his lips catching the corner of your mouth.

“I’ll see you later.” You slip around him.

Once you were outside of his room alone you felt like you could finally think straight, although you didn’t know what exactly to think about what happened in Sehun’s room. You really thought that things would be different. But nothing was different. He was still hot and cold and you had no idea why.

Why did he want you to come on this trip with him?

Maybe you shouldn’t go with him.

———

An hour turned out to be a day. You didn’t see Sehun again until the next day, and to pass the time you had joined Jongin again, pushing your confusion away and trading it for more first person shooter games.

A knock sounded on Jongin’s door and you both looked up in unison. People were vary rarely roaming around the halls this close to noon. Though no one slept for a full 8 hours, everyone seemed to take the day as their alone time, opting to stay in their chambers to rest mentally.  

“Come in.” He grumbled, annoyed at having been interrupted when he was so close to winning. He threw the controller behind him on the bed, cracking his knuckles.

Sehun stepped into the room, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he took in the mess. The boxes the tv and xbox came in where still on the floor, styrofoam and plastic packaging littered around them. Empty blood bags were also around, straws poking out, some had the dried remains of blood on the floor around them. His eyes finally came to settle on you and Jongin sitting together on his bed, the sheets pulled askew, making it look like you were doing more than just playing video games.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He says curtly to me. “Can we talk?”

“Um, sure.” You get up of the bed, handing your controller to Jongin. “Don’t exit out of the game. I’ll be back to kick your butt soon.” You force yourself to laugh, even though the pit of your stomach was feeling like a brick was weighing it down with nerves.

Sehun held the door open for you and you walked past him carefully.

“Clean this place up. It looks fucking disgusting.” He practically spit the words at Jongin and you flinch.

Sehun’s hand goes to your back leading you towards his room. His hand doesn’t feel soft on your back like it did at the party. Today it feels hard, like cement pressing into your lower back, cold and unfeeling.

Once the door is closed behind the two of you he separates himself from you, moving to sit in front of the fireplace.

“Are you going to come with me on my trip?” He asks, the fire’s glow in his eyes mesmerizing you.

“I told you that I would.” You answered cautiously.

“I just want to make sure. My behaviour has been less that ideal and I want to make sure it is what you really want.”

You were starting to get more than just confused now. You were starting to get angry.

“If you know that you have been acting childishly, why don’t you just stop and act like a normal person?” You question sharply. You straightened your shoulders. Sehun is just a person after all. Why shouldn’t you stand tall and question him as you would anyone else? Because you love him? That is all the more reason to question his decisions. His decisions now effect you more than anyone else.

“I don’t know how to stop myself.” He answers simply.

“Well that isn’t good enough.” Your hands are balled into fists at your sides to keep yourself from shaking.”I have waited for weeks for you to come home, while you’ve been all over the place, barely ever speaking to me, and now you’re here and it’s like…this. A disaster.”

He stays quiet, looking down at his shoes.

“What is this Sehun? I told you how I feel and you’ve told me you love me, but this is all just games. And I’m tired of it. You might not think 523 years is enough, but I am tired of being lonely and scared. I want peace and if this isn’t going to be it then I don’t want it. No matter how much I want you. I don’t want it to be like this.” You pause to see if he will speak. He doesn’t. “In case it wasn’t clear, I will not be accompanying you on your trip. And if you can’t figure out what you want and how you want this relation-whatever this is to work I would like to take this time to remind you that I will not stand idly by and watch things happen to me.”

You had to admit that it felt good to get all of that off of your chest. The feeling of all of this being a game even though you have both expressed your feelings was worrying to you.

“I understand.”

“That’s all you have to say? That you understand? How about some kind of explanation?” Your shoulder slouched forward. You felt so defeated by everything. You had only spent a few days actually with Sehun and it seems like most of that time was riddled with confusion and misunderstandings.

Is it really supposed to be this hard?

“I don’t know what else I can say. You are right.” He didn’t move to get up, instead motioning for you to sit with him. “Please sit with me…I’d-I would like to try to explain myself.”

You moved slowly to the sofa, sitting next to him but careful not to touch him.

“I don’t want to make excuses for myself. That isn’t my intention in telling you all of this…” He shifted, running his hand through his hair “I have been struggling significantly with how to go about things. I have been alone for over eight hundred years so this is very new to me. I don’t know how to be with someone, especially someone I care so deeply about. I don’t want to ruin things with you. I don’t think I could live with myself if that were to happen.”

When Sehun was telling you was all very touching. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise, but you didn’t want to play mind games so it was important to you that he tell you the truth.

“Thank you for being honest with me.” You took his hand in yours. Having him becoming more vulnerable with you was finally allowing you to let go of some of your nerves. “I know it’s scary. I’m scared too. I don’t want to mess this up either. But we need to just be normal and show one another our true selves so that we can actually have some kind of relationship. I don’t even know what that is for us.”

Sehun leaned forward, kissing you firmly on the lips. It took you by surprise. This was the first time you felt like he was really kissing you. Everything else had been light and sweet. But this time it felt like so much more than that.

“So…where do we start?” He asked, resting his hand on your knee.

“I have an idea."

———

“I can’t believe you’ve never really watched movies.” You sighed out for the tenth time.

“I have seen some movies.” He retorts defensively. “I know that Jongin must have told you what happened when he first got a television. That situation was enough to make anyone not want to get too attached to a television.”

“But there are so many amazing things to watch. It can be so much more than just a mindless waist of time. Take tonight, for instance, we will use this as an opportunity for some research into how to have a normal relationship.”

“This is silly.” Sehun commented under his breath.

“No it isn’t. I have learned most of what I know about humans today from movies and tv shows and you all think I am human. So, listen to me when I say this is a good idea.”

“Okay, so what do we do? We just sit here and watch?” Sehun moved uncomfortably on the sofa,

“No.” Be bold, you thought. “We are going to watch from the bed.”

“From the bed? But the couch is fine.”

“You wanted to learn to be human right?” You asked. “Think of this as killing two birds with one stone. Now, go get your pyjamas on.”

As Sehun got up, you also went to get ready. You looked through your drawers, trying to find something cute to wear, but nothing seemed right. You settled on a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, after all, he had seen you in that combination before.

When you walked back into his room you closed the door quietly behind you. As you turned the corner you could see him, standing in the large walk in closet, wearing a pair of nicely fitting sweatpants and no shirt. It was the first time you had seen him like that and it took your breath away.

“Hi.” You say, not wanting to feel like you were secretly watching him. “I like your pyjamas.” You smile bashfully, tucking your loose hair behind your ear.

“I am just looking for a shirt to wear.”

“Do you usually wear a shirt to bed?”

“Um-no.” His hand, reaching for the shelf, falls back to his side.

“Just wear what you will be comfortable in. I am.” You tracked his eyes as he took in your appearance, his eyes moving slowly up your bare legs.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Sehun.”

You turned, getting the movie ready before walking over to Sehun’s extremely large and lavish bed. When you arrived, you thought that your room was amazingly over the top, but Sehun’s room was on another level and his bed was like the cherry on top. It was impossibly large, with blood red silk sheets and massive down pillows.

You ran you hand over the soft, luscious fabric, grabbing the edge of the blankets to pull them back, aware of Sehun watching you. You sat on the right side of the bed, pulling the blankets back up over you.

“Get in.” You instruct him gently.

You watch him walk over to the other side of the bed, pulling the sheets back in a calculating way before sitting stiffly down.

“So we just sit like this and watch the movie?” He asked.

“Kind of.” You crawl over to him. Sitting so your arms are touching. “We can start like this and get more comfortable as we watch.”

“O-Okay.”

You start the movie, leaning back once the opening credits start, the comfort of something familiar helping you to relax. You lean on Sehun with your full body weight, conflicting feelings of relaxation and excitement waging war inside of you. His smell calmed you, but the sight of him in something other than a suit, sweatpants with no shirt on, lit a fire within you that you weren’t sure if you were ready to act on.

“You are much bolder tonight than you usually are.” He states with a slight smirk on his face. “It is very interesting to see parts of you that I didn’t know existed. But…I guess I should have remembered though. When you were human you were very outspoken.” His head tips back to rest against the headboard. “Why did you change that about yourself?”

Pulling away from him you stiffen, the sound of the movie fading away into the background.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I just meant…Before you were changed you seemed to be so bright. I remember you very clearly at that dance. You were running around with your friends, dancing, laughing loudly, joking with everyone. You were very clearly different, and everyone loved you all the more for it.” He pauses for a moment, treading lightly. “I still see that in you sometimes, when you are reading, or doing things with Jongin, or Chanyeol. But you are never like that with me.”

“I-I’m sorry…It’s hard to be like that with most vampires. A lot of people outside of my family find it threatening that I can act so convincingly. And because of everything that is going on with the war, it just doesn’t feel right to be acting so care free.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me.” He whispers. “I can be fun like Jongin too…I think.”

“Then why don’t you have fun?”

“I know what my parents expect of me. I’m the oldest son and I have to be able to take over for my father.”

“You’re father will be around forever-”

“If something happens to him in this war it will all be on me.”

“You have Jongin, he will help you.”

“He can’t handle it. We’ve tried before…giving him responsibility. He doesn’t deal with it well.” Sehun shakes his head, rubbing his eyes before continuing to speak. “He dealt with so much when we were human and when I was changed and things fell to me, Jongin finally was able to have some freedom.”

“Well, I’d like to show you that you can have some freedom too. I know that you have a lot on your plate with everything and I want to make sure that I can be your escape from that. I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You could never be a burden to me.” He’s turned to face you.

You lean in towards Sehun, looking down at his chest before bridging the gap between your lips and his. The kiss was solid and warm, dissolving the doubts you had been carrying with you since you’d arrived at their home. His hand travelled up your arm on it’s way to stroke your cheek.

He pulled away, slowly opening his eyes.

“I would like to learn to have more fun.”

[riot-in-reverie]

Villainous Neighbors pt 2.

tags: @queen-of-glass @jamesxdaisy @b00kworm @jurdanhell @cardan-greenbriar-tcp

theres a question at the bottom that would really help the fanfic. 

tell me if you prefer this POV or the one i did in part one, 1st or 3rd person

i’m sorry  if this isn’t that good....

pictures will be posted separately as always.

warnings: threats and subtle signs of abuse

Chapter 2

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz

Jude sleepily opened her eyes not able to ignore the constant buzzing of her phone on the bedside. She blindly threw her hand out searching for the source of the horrid noise. Once her hand closed around her phone she opened it was blinded by the brightness.

 Buzz. Buzz.

 Blinking quickly she opened text messages and bolted upright in bed. How could she have forgotten. Looking down at her phone was 8 messages from Dain and more coming 

Dain: "Hey"

Dain: "Where have you been"

Dain: "Can you call me?"

Dain: "Jude. Call me"

Dain: "Its late are you okay"

Dain: “You better be at home"

Dain: "Good morning"

Dain: "Can you hang out today" 

Dain: "Are you up?"

Dain: "Wake up babe"

I frantically typed out a good morning whitch in seconds he replied 

Dain: "Good afternoon. It's Noon but that's okay how are you?"

Jude: "I'm good" 

Dain: "Where were you last night?"

I couldn't tell him about the fights. He didn't know and wouldn't let me continue if he knew. The problem was I was slowly running out of excuses and they were getting more and more far fetched.

Jude: "I was on a late night walk. Didn't want my phone on me"

Dain: "You should always have your phone on you" 

Jude: "I didn't want it to disturb me"

Dain: "What if something happened"

Nothing would have happened but I couldn't tell him that. 

Jude: "Oh I should probably get breakfast and stuff. Text you later!" 

I threw the blankets to the side and slid off the bed. There was no part of my body that wasn't sore or just plain hurting. As I walked to my closet I noticed a big bruise on my upper thigh that must have manifested overnight. I'd have to find something to cover that up. I found a long dark forest green shirt that I styled with a tie in the front. I honestly thought about just wearing that to be scandalous but I put on some ripped jeans so I wouldn't get arrested. I decided to leave my hair down today. I was downstairs by 12:15

I was in a rush. I had wanted to get to work by 11. I do own my own shop but I want to open at a decent time and I've already slept through my alarm. Now I was very late and was snapping at Taryn to get a move on. Taryn often accompanies me to work just to leave after about 15 minutes. 

"Lets fucking go. I have customers"

"Okay okay. Let me get my shoes on!"

I groaned and just went outside, she could catch up. The shop was in town so the walk took a bit but Taryn refused to ride on my motorcycle. Why didn't she wake me up then I wouldn't be so snappy or so rushed. 

I heard rapid footsteps behind me and looked back over my shoulder to see Taryn hurrying to catch up. I see her purple, no lavender (as I was corrected earlier) dress waves slightly in the wind. I’ll laugh at her if she gets into a fight. That dress will do absolutely no good in a battle of any sorts. Honestly I don’t know how people get us confused. I know we're twins but honestly I would never wear something like that. She seems to like it though so I don’t mention it.

We chatted idly about things of no importance and eventually we arrived at my shop. 

In crude cursive letters above a quaint shop said "Jude's Tattoos" Not the most creative name but Vivi said she thought it had a nice ring to it and no one had complained so far. 

Taryn turned to me and said "I'll see you later have fun at work" before walking past the shop. I didn't bother waving. I unlocked the door and went inside the small chimes of the door making me smile. I turned on the lights and the room illuminated in a nice subtle glow. There was the small waiting room in the front with the black fuzzy couch and two neon colored chairs. Some random magazines were laid out on the round wooden table in between them. Behind that was the desk that divided the front from the back workspace. I went to the back where all my supplies were set up. Around the back and on the desk one could find some of my personal stuff. I sometimes kept things here when I forgot to take them home, was too lazy, or maybe I purposely kept them here who knows. I sat down on my swivel desk chair and noticed a lipstick bottle. I popped it open to see if it was what I think it was and sure enough hidden in it was a blade. Perfect for some stealthy stabbing. Maybe I should take that home today? Eh, I could think about it later. I tossed it aside and looked at my customers for today. Only one that was supposed to come at 4.

Cardan Greenbriar who's unsure what he wants as of now.

Well I guess I got some time to kill. I moved over to the couch and pulled out my phone.

Cardan POV

"No threats huh?" 

Cardan said to himself as he completed the ransomware program on Mr. Smith's company. He pushed away from his computer smiling brightly. In about an hour he'd call and state his demands. He stood up nearly falling down again after he had been sitting so long. Once he got used to standing again he stretched and looked at the time. It was about 2 that means he'd call at  2:30 or 3. Then he had about 1 hour before he got his tattoo at a new place his friend had recommended. He still had to figure out exactly what he wanted. He had a rough idea but not exactly. He could work on that or maybe he could talk to some more companies. 

He walked upstairs still trying to roughly plan his day when he noticed himself in the mirror. Now Cardan took a lot of pride in his appearance and right now he could barely recognize himself. His hair was all over the place, his makeup smeared, bags under his eyes, and his silk pajamas were crinkled. He might have to dedicate an hour to his routine instead of the usual thirty minutes. 

He looked in his closet and pulled out a dark blue oxford shirt that he put on and tucked up the sleeves. He put on black pants with a belt that was more meant for  style than practical use and started brushing out his hair. He parted it to the left so it covered his left ear leaving his right ear for his beautiful dangling earring. He slid his rings on and added some subtle touches to his makeup. He thought he looked casual yet a bit dramatic and that worked perfectly fine for him. 

It was about 2:35 by this time and he decided to call Mr. Smith. He dialed the number on the business card that he had on his desk. After a few rings he answered with an exasperated voice "Hello how may I…"

"Hello Mr. Smith"

"Cardan?" His exasperation turning to surprise 

"Mr. Greenbriar if you please. Yes well I was wondering if you had reconsidered what you said yesterday."

"Why would I do that?"

"Just considering your circumstances at the moment"

"And how do you know about that?" 

"How do you think?" He said with a mocking tone

"You did it. Why?" Surprise and bewilderment were quite obvious in his voice.

"Because I want to be paid. It's really not that hard to understand. I don't get paid and you get punished."

"We are already working on taking it down" Cardan could tell he tried to say this with confidence but his voice wavered 

"You know it will take you too long. You will lose to many customers in that time. Quit fooling around" 

There was a long silence and Cardan was starting to think he might have hung up when his voice came through

"Okay. No more than what we were paying you though"

"Now was that so hard? Remember that I am a very valuable asset but I can also make very bad things happen. To you or to others. Alright I hope you have a lovely day" 

Cardan hung up and started to disable the program. Soon enough it was gone and Mr. Smith was under Cardan control. 

It was about 3 now and Cardan didn't know what to do. He could get Starbucks? He could text Locke? He could just go early? There was a jewelry store near the tattoo shop that his friend worked at. He could go there. He decided that was the best idea and got into the car to drive to "Atlantis Jewelry" but not before getting a coffee for the both of them. 

Cardan walked through the store door and among the glass display cases that held jewels and necklaces that glittered when the sun hit them through the perfectly aligned windows. He walked up to the front to the person who was stationed there 

"Yeah Hi I'm looking for Narcissa. She works here" 

The attendant held up a finger as in to say wait right here than went to the back. Cardan waited there coffees in hand until Narcissa came out and stretched over the counter to give Cardan a kiss on the cheek 

"Cardan! How have you been!"

"Hey. I've been good. I brought you a coffee" he handed the coffee that had whipped cream to her

"Thanks so much I definitely needed this." 

Cardan just nodded. 

"So what have you been up to?" She asked after she had taken a long sip from her drink. 

Cardan shrugged "not much is different. My neighbors moved out so now there's just an empty house next to me but other than that everything is the same. What about you?" 

"Oh well my mom went on a trip so I'm all alone for awhile which is kinda nice. My boyfriend broke up with me. I got a promotion. That tattoo shop opened across the street. It drives my manager crazy."

She started to go onto the next thing but Cardan stopped her 

"What's wrong with the tattoo shop" He didn't want to go to a faulty tattoo shop "who runs it?" 

"Just this girl" She said waving her hand dismissively "it's the music that bothers us. It's very loud" 

"Oh. That's it?" 

Apparently  that was the wrong choice of words. She glared at him "No that's not it. It scares our customers away!"

"Oh sorry. Enjoy your coffee. I'll see you later okay?"

"Yeah we should hang out soon”

"Definitely" Cardan said as he stepped out the door.

Cardan wandered a bit before going into the tattoo shop. His first thought was that it was very nice and that he liked it. The second was that he thought it was very unprofessional to be sleeping on the job. This thought came to him as he looked at what he assumed to be the owner laying down fast asleep on the couch in the front area. He wondered if he should leave and come back later but by the looks of it this girl wasn't waking up any time soon so he might as well wake her up. He walked over and tapped on her shoulder 

"Darling?"

He shook her a bit and she rolled over looking up at him. He waved slightly

"I hate to bother you but I'm supposed to be getting a tattoo" 

The girl's face went from shock, embarrassment, to frustration in the span of 5 seconds. 

"Ugh Hello welcome to Judes tattoos I'm Jude" 

"I figured" 

"And you are?" She said sitting up and flipping her hair back.

"Oh I'm Cardan" 

"Yea the boy who doesn't know what he wants" 

This girl wasn't very professional at all. He wondered how long this place would stay in business. 

"Thats me…"

"Okay. Well come on in to the back and we'll get everything worked out" 

She started walking and Cardan followed behind her wondering if this had been a good idea. It had been his friend Locke who had texted and recommended this place so that already made it suspicious and Narcissa wasn’t a big fan of the store… Was it too late to bail? On the other hand this place was somewhat new and as a bonus this girl was stunningly beautiful and he had been interested in a tattoo so why not.

He just had to hope this Jude woman wouldn't ruin his life.

ideas for his tattoo? 

[yamithediaperdork]

Trails of a bully (A malcore story)

The following story while being about malcore, is not the malcore from silly little god nor Malcore's lost bet. there's a multiverse of Malcore's out there folks, and it's best not to over think it. Malcore was a bully, A true blue grade 8 and 14 year old bully and he loved every second of it. He was one of the shortest kids at axmaina jr high but made up with it with a willingness to fight dirty, a nasty streak a mile wide, a friend who was a green belt in karate, and a big for his age friend. anytime malcore did find himself at risk of getting beat up he was quick to holler for a teacher and could cry at the drop of the dime, making him more then just a little loathed around the school, and made sure anyone who stuck around the school during lunch hour tried to avoid him and his friends. Today's target was a sixth grader who was about the same size as malcore and named Justin, and who had actually called malcore out for a showdown. Malcore wasn't worried though as he showed up, with Josh and his karate skills to the left of him and Jacob and his freakish power to the right. They had made it a goal to make every sixth grade boy cry at least ONCE this year and Justin was the last hold out and malcore was looking forward to settling this once and for all. with his dirty blond hair and green eyes Justin had a look most of the girls called handsome, as opposed to malcore who brown hair and brown eyes and MAYBE a hint of baby fat got him called 'cute' or 'adorable'..hardly things you wanted to hear in grade nine. the stupid blond smirked as malcore strolled up with his crew and it made Malcore hate his stupid handsome face even more. "About time you showed up. I was starting to think you got scared and wet yourself." Justin teased. Malcore stopped and glared at that insult, a blush coming to his cheeks. 'does..does he know..no it's just stupid banter' The bully thought and growled. "Awfully big words coming from a dead twerp." Malcore said, trying to sound tough but his voice came out as more of a squeak. The gathered kids from the other assorted grades laughed and Malcore's cheeks were burning now. "Awww did I touch a nerve there? or does baby need his diapies changed?" Justin asked in a mocking baby tone. "Oh that is IT! I'm gonna fucking enjoy this!" Malcore growled and rushed over tackling Justin down to the ground and started to wail away on the little shit as hard as he could. Josh and Jacob cheered him on as he bloodied the nose of the little shit but then Justin caught Malcore's next punch and held it with ease. "You have you're fun diaper baby? every dog gets one bite and that was yours." Justin said before grabbing malcore but the front of his red shirt tossing him off of him with seeming ease. Malcore yelped as he landed face first into a pile of dirt and got up spit the resulting mud out of his mouth and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "You think you're hot shit!?" Malcore practically screamed, though in his rage his voice had gone even higher and he sounded like a toddler having a fit, as least in tone. "Your in for it now! Jacob! Josh! FUCK THIS BITCH UP!" As soon as he called for them his trusty sidekick started towards Justin, Jacob glaring at the other students daring any of them to get involved. Justin didn't look worried however and actually just tsked and took out his smart phone and smiled at Malcore. "Call them off baby Malcore, or I press play." Justin said. Malcore tilted his head to the side and squinted to make out the video, then his eyes went wide as he recognized the location and the woman in the video. "J-Josh! Jacob! Hold off!" He quickly cried out. The two lackey's paused and exchanged confused looked, but the pair shrugged and halted. "That's better." Justin said and laughed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "wouldn't want everyone to see what IIIII saw last night at walmart would you Malcore?" "Fucking just delete that video and I'll leave you alone." Malcore said, teeth clenched but he had panic in his eyes. "what the fuck is on that video?" Josh asked malcore, confused now. there were a few cries from the crowd, they wanted to know as well and Justin smirked and wagged his eyebrows. "I dunno.. Mayyybe I'll play it for everyone..but only if Jacob and Josh promise not to lay a finger on me." Justin said and turned to the only two real threats. "G-Guys!! W-who's side are you on? Mine or this little dipshits!" Malcore yelped. "...well Justin wasn't the one who ate all my snack cakes.." josh said and turned to Jacob. "and Justin hasn't borrowed any video games from me and still not returned them 4 months later." Jacob added. "I-I'll Get you all the snack cakes you want and I'll even give you one of my games!" Malcore pleaded, dropping to his knees now, both hands together as he begged. "Jesus, what the hell is in that video?" Josh asked with a smirk. "I-I'll tell you both later, just Pleasssse I need you now!" seeing the big fearsome bully begging on his knees and looking ready to cry had the rest of the gathered crowd laughing and malcore knew he was done as a bully as they took pictures, but it STILL wouldn't be as bad as it could be if that little shit head played that video. "Jeeeze..I don't wanna listen to a toddler have a tantrum.. I'll delete the video from my phone malcore..but i have it on my home computer still. I'll Let you off the hook for now, But you'll be getting a special e-mail from me tonight..so be paying attention crybaby." Justin said and true to his word the video was gone. After the noon hour display, Jacob and Josh had only loosely hung around Malcore, who told them he'd tell them about what was on the video after school at his his house. Still the fear and semi respect Malcore had held was gone and he had a new nickname before the day was out of 'crybaby' and was powerless to do anything about it but whine to the teachers. (which he had only done once, and his english teacher, with malcore standing by him at the front of the class had scolded the class for making fun of someone just because his small size meant he might cry a little easier and told malcore he was free to cry if he felt the need.) Finally with the day over malcore was walking home with his best buddies and trying to put it all behind him. "So I'm thinking, we sneak into the little pukes house and just make him delete that shit off his computer. you guys with me?" Malcore asked, while they were stopped at a 7 11 picking up the snack cakes he had promised Josh and getting them all drinks. "yeahhh no. that shit is illegal you dork." Josh said. "and remember to get the small Slurpee, you end up having to piss every five minutes when you get the big gulp." Jacob reminded him. Grumbling and huffing the squirt payed for the snacks and the drinks and sucked on his in moody silence for the rest of the walk towards his house. Seeing his mom's car in the driveway Malcore signed in relief, there was NO way she'd let Jacob and Josh stay too long since she always insisted on spending at least a hour of mommy-son time with malcore when she got off early from work and if he delayed long enough he wouldn't have to tell his buds just what had been on the video. "Hey mom, I'm home!" Malcore called out to her as the three came in but before he could follow up with that his friend were with him her voice rang out from the kitchen. "Oh good! I went back to the store today sweetie and made sure to get you the princess diapers that you wanted, after that fit you threw last night when all they had were the spaceman ones. I know how much you like being a little princess before bed." his mom called out. She came around the corner and saw Malcore just standing there, Mouth hung open and cheeks burning red and then noticed Josh and Jacob ALSO standing there. "M-Mom!" Malcore squeaked out finally as she gave a sheepish chuckle. "ahhh..whoops." she said and rubbed the back of her head. "Princess." Jacob said, grinning ear to ear. "Diapers!?" Josh finished and then both started to laugh. "You boys stop that this instant!" Malcore's mom scolded the boys, who tried, they really did try to stop laughing. "It's not Malcore's fault he's started bed wetting again and if he wants to be a cute little sissy butt at night!" she added. "MOM! NOT HELPING!" Malcore shrieked as his friends started laughing again and then to make matted worse there was a hissing sound then Malcore's crotch felt warm and.. "oh dear..You boys made him so upset he wet himself! get out of here, both of you and don't think I won't be calling your parents!" Malcore's mom scolded them and then other two boys left, having more then a fair idea of what the video would of been. It had been 7:30ish the night before, when Justin saw Malcore as the little bully made his way into Walmart tugging and pulling on his mom's arm and telling her to hurry up. he'd been there to go and get a new game and was on his way out, but the sight of malcore acting like a little kid eager to get a new toy interested him, and if nothing else the footage would be funny to show off as he took out his smart phone and started to record. "Settle down malcore, it's not like there wouldn't be any left!" His mom was scolding him, but with a chuckle in her voice. "That's what you said lassst time and you were suppose to get them on your way home from work! then you made me do homework and I had to let you kick my butt in video games for a hour before we could come so hurry uppp!" the bully whined. Anyone who'd of heard him would of thought it was a toddler whining but clearly Malcore's mother was just amused by the fit and let him drag her as fast as he could. "oh you let me kick your butt huh? I'll have to remember that and try EXTRA hard next mommy and son time." she teased but they got to the aisle that malcore wanted and as Justin panned the phone up, he realized it was the incontinence aisle. "oh, this is gonna be good." Justin said for the benefit of the video. sneaking up to film them from a little bit of a distance, Justin was still able to catch Malcore breaking away from his mother and running down to a spot  in the aisle looking excited..then looking on disbelief. "I TOLD YOU WE SHOULD OF COME SOONER!" the pint sized bully screamed and started to have a royal fit, screaming and plopping onto his butt, kicking and pounding his fists on the floor as his mother rushed over. "Oh dear, they're out of the princess diapers -again-?" She asked, knelled down and trying to sooth the brat. "YES! A-AND I TOLD YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN AND NOW I CAN'T BE A PRETTY PRINCESS AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULTTTT!" Malcore screamed then -actually- broke down in tears and started to sob. The icing on the cake was when Malcore's mother took a large -pink- pacifier out of her purse and popped it in the sobbing boys mouth and he started to suckle on it. Justin got one last shot of Malcore's mom picking him up and patting his back as the big baby whimpered before ducking away to hide. After his friends had left and Mommy had gotten malcore all cleaned up and into one of his thick pink diapers (with little crowns and scepters and the word PRINCESS in white cursive on the butt) he still seemed to be caught between his usual happy little sissy self and totally miserable. "You don't understand mommy!" he whined as she helped him into his high chair for some milk and cookies. "They're gonna tell everyone!" "well if they do that then their not very good friends! You just have your snack princess and Mommy will make a few phone calls." She said and walked off, leaving Malcore to think about just HOW doomed he was, and he STILL had whatever his stupid little e-mail thing from Justin was gonna be to put up with. "This can not get ANY worse!" the little dork whined softly before chowing down on his cookies. 

Part 2

Malcore finished off the last of his cookies and squirmed in the high chair. something that normally brought the little shorty so much pleasure and fun was gonna ruin him tomorrow and it was giving him a icky tummy. when mommy came back from making her calls and saw him, looking grumpy with chocolate smears on his face and his chin resting on his hand, she came over and gave her special little guy a hug. "it's gonna be OK Malcore, I made sure to call your friends parents, and let them know what a couple of bullies they are! I'm not sure I want you to hang out with them anymore either if their gonna be so rude to my little princess." she added. Malcore gulped, this was NOT good news like his mommy hoped it would be. If Jacob and Josh got in trouble over him then there was NO way they'd have his back tomorrow, and if mom started to ban them from hanging out with him.. "B-But Mommmm!" Malcore started, doing his best whinny sissy voice. "They're still my friends! I'm sure we can work this out! S-so you should call their parents back and-" His mom smiled and cut him off with a big hug as she lifted him out of his highchair. "You're just SUCH a sweetheart! more worried about your friends then yourself even after they made you cry! That's why I spoil you so much!" she coo'ed.   Malcore gave a weak smile back, and decided that since he was so totally doomed he might as well enjoy tonight before he became a super duper laughing stock. Waiting for his mom to wipe his face clean with a washcloth, Malcore finally spoke up. "Ummm can we do a super duper extended Mommy son time t'day? Pleassssse?" He asked, having been sat on the counter as she washed his face and now giving her Bambi eyes. "heh, of course Princess. you know I can't say no to that face!" As Josh walked in the door of his house his dad was waiting for him, and looking mad. "What's this I hear about you bullying your poor little friend Malcore and making him wet his pants?!" His dad asked, looking pissed. Josh gulped, if there was ONE thing his father hated above anything else, it was a bully and Josh knew he'd been risking a lot with helping out Malcore all this time, but the rush of power and the rewards had been just too sweet to pass up. "W-Well see, It's not exactly like tha-" Josh tried to explain, but found himself getting grabbed by the ear and getting lead over to a corner of the room that Josh hadn't had to visit in a few years now, that his little brother ended up in at least once a week, the spanking corner. "Dad NO! Wait! I can explain!" Josh yelped, the though of his old man tanning his cheeks making the green belt  weak in the knees and ironically his own bladder was awfully full. "I talked with Malcore's mother, and she told me how you drove her poor boy to tears after he had a accident, and you made fun of him for needing bedtime diapers!" Josh's dad said. The tone in his voice made it clear that for him that was good enough and he took a seat on the spanking stool and pulled josh over his lap. Ignoring Josh's pleas for mercy he tugged down the poor boys pants and undies just as Josh's little brother Jet walked into the room, drinking from a juice box and with a puzzled look on his face. that turned into delight as he realized that Joshie was gonna be the one getting a tanning, not his 8 year old butt for a change. "uh-oh. what did Joshie do daddy?" the little brat asked, a BIG grin on his face. Josh had after all watched HIM get spanked with a huge smirk on his face lots of times so fair was fair! "He was the one thing I told you boys NEVER to be, a Bully!" Dad said and then brought his hand down on Josh's backside. As Josh howled in pain and begged for mercy, he only made it about 5 spanks in before he lost control of his bladder and drenched his fathers lap which ended the spanking, but didn't do him any favors. "Maye Malcore isn't the only one who needs diapers." His dad said while Jet giggled like crazy. "DADDY NO!" Josh whimpered, turning pale. As Jacob entered his house his grandmother was waiting for him, and the semi giant gulped having a good idea what this was about. "Do you know I just got a call from Malcore's mother?" She asked, looking less then pleased. "I...may of heard something about her threatening to call, yes." Jacob said and gulped nervously. "And so you know what she told me?" "I..May have a vague idea about what may of been said." Jacob said, trying to hedge his bets. His grandmother raised a eyebrow, then took a seat in her laz-y-boy chair and motioned for him to plop his butt on the footstool in front of her. "well let me hear YOUR version of what went down, I'll compare it with what I was told, and we'll go on from there." she said. Jacob gulped and took the seat. "well Ok. Soo we got back to Malcore's after stopping at sev for slurpee's and snacks an-" "who paid for the slurpees and snacks?" His grandmother asked, cutting him off. "I know for a fact you don't have any money right now after getting a advance on your allowance till next month." "Er..well..Malcore treated us." Jacob said and had a sinking feeling as he watched her frown a little.  "A-Anyways.. as we got back to Malcore's place, well..OK.. it turned he wears diapers to bed grandma! and not just diapers, but princess ones, and he apparently had a HUGE fit over not being able to get them the night before! Like, how was I NOT suppose to laugh! I'm only human!" "And then malcore wet himself, and you and Josh laughed even more at the poor pint sized friend who had treated you to slurppes and snacks." Grandma said. "...Well when you put it like that I'm kind of a dick." Jacob said. "Quite right. so now that we agree that you were a dick, guess who's going to be going and getting all dressed up for the rest of the day, and will be coming straight home after school for the next two weeks to be my little grand daughter Jenny?" Jacob whimpered and groaned, his grandmother didn't bother trying to spank him since he had such a high pain tolerance but knew what a macho image of himself he had. So instead of a spanking she liked to invoke what she called petticoat punishment which mean she dressed Jacob up in pretty dresses and panties, and put bows in his hair and made the giant squirm like crazy. "M-Me grandma." Jacob whimpered, looking ready to cry. "Awww, it's ok Jenny. if you wanna cry, go ahead. better now then when I get your makeup on." and with that the giant did start to sob but let himself be lead upstairs. Justin was on cloud nine as he finished up making the special audio trance files and putting them to the video he still had of Malcore's little fit.   there was just NO WAY that the little sissy would be able to fight the effects of this hypnotic video and tomorrow he was gonna go from being known as crybaby malcore to a much more humiliating nick name. such was the power of the video that Justin himself had made sure to wear ear plugs AND headphones (not plugged in of course) with the sound turned off on his computer just to make sure he didn't end up programing himself. He should do ONE final check on the program, but he had already watched the video enough and checked the markers to be sure and popped it onto YouTube as a private video, only available via linkage and then e-mailed Malcore the link and a message. "Ok Princess, Your gonna watch this movie 10 times with the volume on max, while sucking on your pacifier then go to bed. I'll be able to keep track of the views and I'll know if you watched it less then 10. but if you wanna watch it MORE then that, heh, go ahead. If you've been a good little baby butt then I'll let this all go away tomorrow, if not, I make the video public. YOUR choice diaper baby." With the message sent Justin closed his browser and despite it being only 6ish, he felt oddly tired. Blaming it on staring at the screen for too long he went over to his bed and laid down for a quick power nap, when his parents came in to check on him, to see if he wanted to go out for ice cream half a hour later, they both had to chuckle, their so called big boy was sucking on his thumb and hugging one of his pillows to his chest, drooling up a storm. After playing video games with mommy for as long as he could get away with, and having pizza and pop for supper, Malcore had his by then soggy diapers changed and had taken a bubble bath then was re-diapered and went off to his room to do his homework before his 9 pm bedtime. Malcore was in his favorite princess PJ top and tried to calm himself, already having his paci in his mouth as he crinkled away in his chair as he logged onto his e-mail account. true to his word, there was the e-mail from Justin and Malcore whimpered then opened the e-mail. As he read the message and opened the link malcore smiled behind his paci, if this was all that stupid head Justin could come up with then malcore was mostly in the home free, at least on THAT end of things. 'I'll hafa suck up to Josh and Jacob tomorrow and try and make up for getting them in trouble...but man, just watch a video ten times? piece of cake!' Malcore thought with a giggle. The little sissy started to bounce up and down in his chair, his diapers crinkling big time and bobbing his head from side to side as he got his headphones plugged and and clicked on the video to start it. It was just his little fit at the mall with some weird music in the back round, and some flashy stuff popping up in the video that made him feel a little silly. refreshing the link, he watched it again and felt himself feeling a little, weird. like, he was SUPER getting into the video to the extent he wasn't noticing his tummy was making weird noises. By the fourth watch his tummy was cramping but that was OK, Malcore could wait out his tummy troubles, he was a good little sissy who wanted to watch his new favorite video. As he watched it for the sixth time he was rocking back and forth, trying not to make oopise poopises in his diapies, but he was also wonder if Justin would be super nice and leave this totally awesome video up, Malcore super de duper loved it! As he started the video for the tenth time malcore slid out of his chair and pushed it back, and braced himself on the computer desk as he started to video. He suckled his paci in time to the music and with a dopey smile behind his pacifier grunted and unloaded into the set of his pretty princess diapers like a good little sissy. it was just so silly now to widdle Malcore that he had only been wearing his princess diapies and just wetting them when they were clearly made for him to be a stinky little princess! he'd hafa give Justin a big smooch on the cheek for helping him understand all of that even as his poor diapers drooped down and the room filled up with a stinky smell. as the video finished, Malcore giggled and took his head phones off and closed the tab, then waddled over to bed with his smelly load making him have to do the cowboy walk and crawled into bed, snuggling into his tiger stuffie and going strait to sleep. After soaking his dad's lap Josh had been forced to stand in the corner, his nose on a target on the wall with his pants and undies around his ankles. Jet had been told to watch him and make sure he stayed in the corner while daddy went to the store to pick up something and Josh had a sinking feeling in his gut he knew exactly what it was. "Geez 'big brother'..you know I get spanked lots but I don't wet myself!" Jet smirked, clearly loving ever second of his brothers torment and knowing that Josh couldn't do a damn thing without making it worse. "I..I had a full bladder ok!?" Josh grumbled, almost glad to have a excuse not to have to look at his gloating little brother. "You know if you had told dad you had to pee, he'd of stopped and let you use the bathroom right? he just adds three swats." Jet laughed. Josh SHOULD of known that but in his blind panic he'd forgotten all about that rule and groaned. "whatever, just means -I- get to be the big brother tonight." Jet giggled but hushed up. the little brat knew better then to tease Joshie without permission from daddy and risk being labeled a bully. "Alright Joshie. I've had time to think about it, and I've worked out the rest of your punishment." Daddy said as he came in, carrying two bags from the drug store. "you can pull away from the punishment corner now." he added. As Josh pulled away he had to fight back a sob, there in daddies hands was TWO packs of diapers, and a baby bottle and a pacifier. "I think going to bed every night till these diapers run out like your friend has to will teach you not to make fun of those with potty issues, since clearly your not immune to a wetting accident yourself. for today, you'll be spending the rest of the day diapered, and be making use of the pacifier and the baby bottles. with the amount of diapers I brought you should be outta of them in about a month or so, but if I think you need more time in diapers you WILL be padded after school and I'll be buying anther pack. do I make myself clear?" Daddy asked. Josh sniffled and fresh tears flowed down his cheeks, but he nodded. "and Jet, before you think about picking on your new baby brother, just remember they have diapers in your size too little man." "Y-yes daddy!" After that Josh had been diapered and denied any pants, with a pacifier popped in his mouth (and a warning not to remove it without permission from Daddy or Jet) He then had to go and clean up his accident out of the naughty corner. After that it was homework time for the boys, with Jet as normal finishing first and going off to claim the tv. Josh naturally found it had to focus on his homework given his attire but Daddy was understanding and helped him a little. With his homework done he was allowed to go and watch cartoons with Jet, but was handed a baby bottle loaded with apple juice to drink while Jet was sipping on a coke. Thirsty as he was Josh suckled from the bottle, cheeks burning red but Jet wisely didn't say anything. At suppertime Josh's food had been cut up for him, and he was given a baby fork to use, though he was thankfully too big to fit in Jet's old highchair so daddy hadn't even bothered. Daddy was nice in that he didn't make Josh USE the diaper, all he had to do was tug on his or jet's arm and get permission. went it came time for bed daddy decided the old diaper looked a little beat up, but still was good so just taped anther diaper over the current one and tucked Josh into bed, a full hour before Jet. As the green belt laid there, diapered, sucking on a pacifier, and mortified.. he swore to himself he was gonna take this out on Malcore the next day before finally drifting off to sleep. About 15 minutes after he conked out though Jet would sneak into his room, with a bowl of warm water.. Jacob whined loudly as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was wearing a pair of white knee high socks and a pair of pink panties, not that you could even see the panties (thank god!) Because he was in a light yellow sundress with a white flower print that came down to just above his knees. He had a yellow bow pinned in his hair and was wearing a black pair of Mary Jane's, and his grandmother was waiting for him to get the last of his tears out before she put on his makeup. "You know Jacob, I almost wish you'd misbehave a little more often. you just look so CUTE as Jenny!" the old lady teased and smirked, dabbing at his cheeks with a Kleenex. "P-Please no Make up grandma." 'Jenny' pleaded, sniffling. "I-It's too much already!" the poor bully whimpered. "Well I'll let you decide." His grandmother said and Jacob gulped at the evil smile on her face. There was no doubt where Jacob got his evil creative ideas when it came to making a target whimper. "You can let me get the make up on you and then we can go and watch some tv.. OR you can go make up free and then go and mow the lawn, the grass IS getting a little long." Jacob whined big time at that, he had just mowed the lawn on Sunday and there was no way it needed anther go already! Still given his choices the not so little sissy forced a smile on his face. "M-Make me cute grandma." he said in his best girl voice, all while vowing vengeance on Malcore tomorrow.

[samcro-girl]

Taken

(Chibs x reader)

Requested by : @band--psycho , Hey! Can I have a Chibs x reader imagine where the reader is a really shy, quiet person and doesn’t really fit in with the club, but when she gets kidnapped the guys (especially chibs) realise how much they care for her, if that makes any sense.

A/N; thanks for the great request, hope this is what you wanted. The timeline is a bit messed up because I can’t remember everything that happend :)

—

Being a office worker at the TM had to be one of the strangest jobs around, especially seeing as you were the complete opposite of the leather wearing bikers and the needy croweaters. The fast pace and the loud atmosphere of the club were completely different to the things that you were comfortable with. But a job is a job and it wasn’t too bad, the boys only sometimes bothered you to invite you to the parties , or in Tigs case, into his dorm. The only one who you didn’t mind bothering you was Chibs, because let’s be honest, you could listen to that accent all day. The conversation between the two of you could last for hours if uninterrupted, talking about anything and everything.

“Gem, I’m all done here so I’m going to head home for the night, if that’s all right?” you say to Gemma while leaning on the frame of the office door. “Ok sweetie, thanks for the extra time you did today, all of the paperwork was drowning me.” Gemma replied with a tight lip smile, turning her head from the computer to you. “ Yeah of course, happy to help. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “What time?” Gemma asked jokingly. “8:30, just like always.” You reply with a small smile , “Goodnight Gemma.” “Goodnight Y/N.”

Walking out of the office and towards the few cars that were still at the garage you spotted a certain biker who was sat on the bench by the boxing ring. Chibs stepped off of the table, and dropped his cigarette as he sauntered towards you, crushing it beneath his boot.

“Ya know lass, if your going home this late you should probably have someone with ye, just in case somthin’ happens.” Chibs said with a smile leaning in the side of your car.

“Chibs, it’s not even dark yet, I think I’ll be ok.” You reply with a smile, trying not to get caught staring at his handsome face.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll see ya tomorrow then?” “Bright and early. ‘Night Chibs.” You say while opening the door to your car and getting in. “Goodnight, love” Chibs responded at your window, standing back to make sure his feet weren’t rolled over. With a little wave to Chibs and the others who had just exited the club house, you made your way home.

After you rolled into your parking space and parked the car you picked up your bag from the front seat and walked up to your front door. It was unlocked. “Huh..that’s weird.” You whisper under your breath, you were sure you locked it before leaving to TM this morning. Cautiously, you walked into your house and quietly set down your bag on the kitchen table. “Sorry about this,” a voice with an Irish accent said before ramming the butt if his gun into the back of your head, making everything go dark.

—Time skip, next morning—. Third person POV

“It’s 9:15 god dammit! Where is she?” Gemma shouted to Chucky, who was in the office, as she was standing outside waiting for Y/N’s car to turn up. “I dunno Gem , maybe all our crazy shit made the girl run for the hills.” Tig said while cleaning his hands in a rag after working on a car. “ Very funny Tiggy, she’s not that stupid,” Gemma replied. “ She’s never been late, not even when she was sick.” “ Aww is Gemma worried for the office nerd, how sweet.” Tig said sarcasticly, with an over-the-top pout on his face.

“Chibs! Come here a minute.” Gemma shouted across the yard.

“Yes darlin’ , what can I do for ye?” Chibs asked Gemma. “Could you go check up on Y/N please, just see what’s going on.” Gemma said at the same time as checking the computer to write down Y/N’s address. “Yeah ok. Tiggy you’re with me.” Chibs replied, taking the address from Gemma and walking over to his bike.

“ Alright, brother.” Tig answers, also mounting his bike.

The ride to Y/N’s house was short and the boys immediately noticed that the front door was wide open. They looked at each other and pulled out their guns from their waistbands and pointed them towards the door. Chibs entered the house first, slowly making his way towards the kitchen, while Tig headed towards the bedrooms. Chibs’ eyes were instantly drawn to what looked like an abnormal note stuck to the fridge. ‘Sorry about this boys, if your reading this it means we have your girl.’ His heart stopped. ‘All we want is for you to pay the 150k for the guns and you’ll get the girl back. You have until Wednesday noon. Call the number when your ready.’ He grabbed the note and flipped it over seeing Galen’s phone number. “No no no, SHITE!” Chibs shouted, dropping his gun on the counter to hit the cupboard door with both hands, enough times for it to brake. “Whoa brother, what’s going on?” Tig asked, walking into the kitchen, gun still raised. Chibs don’t say anything, he just handed Tig the note and slumped into one of the kitchen chairs. “Jesus Christ.” Tig sighed. “How are we supposed to get 150 thousand in one day?” “I don’t know if we can.” Chibs replied, “But I swear to God if they hurt her, I’ll kill the lot of ‘em,” anger lacing his voice.

“Wait , why would they take Y/N? She isn’t a member or an old lady so why her?” Tig asked Chibs, who don’t respond. “Chibs?” Tig said whilst squatting in front of the Scotsman. Chibs looked up at Tig and tensed his jaw, tears glistening in his eyes, “They’re doing it to hurt me.” He said, voice thick with emotion, not making eye contact, “They must have been watching for a while and figured out that.. that I...”.

“That you what? Chibs?” Tig replied softly, looking at Chibs in confusion. “That I care for the lass, properly.” Chibs almost whispered, finally meeting Tigs eye. “ We’re gonna get her back brother” Tig said; trying to hide the fear and sadness that he felt. “We have to.” He added, pulling Chibs up from his seat and into a hug.

—— At Church——

“What are we waiting for, we know we can’t get the money so let’s go get her back by force!” Chibs almost screamed at Clay, slamming his hand on the table.

“We can’t, if we did that it would start a war that we wouldn’t win,” Clay replied, taking a drag of his cigar, “ We need to get that money before they do some shit to the girl.”

Chibs hung his head low and stared at the same spot on the table. “I have to get her back, I need to make sure she’s ok,” Chibs muttered, just loud enough for the boys to hear.

“And we will brother, we all want her safe.” Jax said in a comforting voice. “If we pool all our money we got and add the spare from Caracara, what? 120k. That leaves us 30 short.”

“What about TM? No money there?” Bobby asked Clay. “No, we used it to buy the new truck,” he answered. “What about that stock of meds, it must be worth at least 30k right?” Tig said.

“It’s got street value but it’s gotta be sold in bulk or it’s worthless. The problem is finding a buyer.” Juice answered, fiddling with his rings.

“What are you waiting for? Find us a buyer!” Clay shouted, banging the gavel against the table.

—— Time skip meet with Irish—— Y/N POV

“Please let me go, I swear I don’t know anything! Please!” You shout for what seems like the hundredth time, wrestling with the rope, which tied your hands behind your back and to the sides of the chair they sat you on. Your head snapped to the side with the force of the Irishman’s backhand, adding the the pain you felt almost everywhere. “Shut the fuck up girl! That’s the last time I’m gonna tell you! I don’t give two shites what you know or don’t know,this isn’t about you! Christ!” the man screamed, raising his hand to his forehead. You stayed quiet eventhough your mind was racing. What did he mean ‘I don’t care what you know’? What other reason could you be here for? Another man entered the room talking on his phone, “You really think I wouldn’t keep good on my word? Now that really hurts my feelings, Filip.” You sat up, filled with hope at the mention of Chibs. “It’s the Irishman’s code..... Yeah your girls here but if you don’t get the money then I can’t guarantee she’ll be this pretty when you next see her.” He’s stroked your cheek and thrust the phone next to your mouth, “ Go on, tell them that your alive.” “Hello?” You said. “Y/N? Y/N! Darlin’ are you ok?!” The panicked voice if Chibs rang through the speaker. “Yes! Yes I’m ok but I’m scared Chibs..... I don’t understand why this is happening! What’s going on?” You say, relief but confusion evident in your voice. “Y/N lassie, everything is going to be ok, I promise. We’re coming to get ur now alright? I’ll explain everything later. Just do why they say, alright. Don’t give them a reason to hurt you pl.....” The phone was ripped away, back to Galen’s ear. “ That’s enough talking I think, don’t you.” He said into the phone while staring at you. “ See you in a minute Filip.” He hung up and walked out of the room.

The roar of the crews motorcycles had never been a more welcome sound to your ears. You were stood at the behind the doors of some old warehouse, arms still tied behind your back. One of Galen’s men was holding you to his side with one hand on your arm, gun in the other. You watched through a crack in the doors as the boys parked their bikes and got off, walking to form a line in front of the Irish. “ Again, I really am sorry to have had to have done this, I just didn’t see another way of this working out.” Galen said to Clay.

“Cut the shite , we got your money, where’s the girl?” Chibs said, his voice cold.

“The money first.” Galen replied looking at the Scotsman. Juice dropped a bag at the Irishman’s feet, “Here, 150 thousand just like you asked.” Juice said.

Galen whispered something into the man next to him’s ear. The man turned and started to walk towards you in the warehouse. He opens the doors and grabbed you roughly and pushed you in front of him towards the crew. Your eyes immediately me Chibs’ , tears coming his eyes when he saw the state you were in. The Irishman cut your ties and pushed you into Chibs’ arms, yours instantly wrapping around his waist, burying you head into his shoulder. He just hugged you back and whispered, “I’m so sorry, this is my fault” into your hair. You looked up at him, confusion spreading across your face, “ How is it your fault?” You asked.

“They did this to ye because they know I love ya lass.”

You don’t respond, you just reached around his shoulders to bring his lips to yours, passionately kissing him with him responding by placing his hands on either side of your face. When he pulled back and raised an eyebrow you said, “ I love you, too.”

[shurisneakers]

espresso [8]

Summary: In which your best friend’s brother begins to set you up on dates when you mention that you haven’t been in a relationship in years, but things don’t go as expected.

Warning: swearing, angst (????), pining lol

A/N: surprise bitches i’m back but will disappear soon again for months at a time this is my entry for the exuberant @viktordrago‘s writing challenge (it took me like 20 minutes to find you kumi i2g) thank you to the best beta @samingtonwilson love u and our cinema boi  the fact that i had to fuckin gif this myself shows how desperate i am

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous part- Part 7 || Espresso Masterlist

Everyone has probably met that one person who is very different from the rest. Someone so profoundly boring, you had no idea you’d rather watch a tap faucet drip for eight hours straight than to ever be within a feet of them breathing.

That would be Vision.  

Vision talked like he had a thesaurus up his ass, smelled like mothballs, and had ideals much too similar to a less-funny, almost less-human Dwight Schrute.

“Hey birthday boy,” you excitedly hushed into the phone at midnight.

“Hey there,” he replied softly so you could nearly feel him smile through the phone.

“How does one more lap around the sun feel?”

“More or less the same. Hold on.” He paused for a second. “Yup, I feel normal.”

“You’re a bore, Bucky Barnes. You’re supposed to be excited or something,” you could hear Nat and Clint giggling about something in the room adjacent to the kitchen where you’d snuck to call Bucky.

“It’s just another day, my dude.”

“It’s your birthday!” you protested, filling up a glass of water and bringing it to your lips.

“Meh.”

“What do you have planned?”

“First off, bold of you to assume I thought I’d live this long to actually plan something,” he snorted and you could hear papers shift under him.

“How edgy.”

“Secondly, I’m sleeping till noon and I’m seeing you today,” He cleared his throat. “You all, I mean. The group.”

“Sounds ideal.” You took a large gulp of water before leaning on the counter.

“What about you?”

“Currently; an all nighter with Nat and Clint to complete assignments.” your eyes flitted to the doorway which you realized had gone quiet. You narrowed your eyes. “Other than that, I got nothing else to do other than your birthday thing.”

“Oh yeah, funny story by the way,” he laughed nervously. “I forgot to remind you that your next date is today.”

“Bucky I still don’t get it,” you straightened up immediately. “Today’s your birthday, why would you set me up today?”

“You’re busy through next week and then you have midterms after that,” he defended himself weekly. “And besides, relax. He said it’s an afternoon thing. He’ll drop you off before it starts.”

“Who is it?” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Jarvis; also known as Vision.”

You were silent for a moment as his name registered in your mind. “Why have you forsaken me this way?”

“Just give the guy a chance,” he chuckled, before yawning. “And remember, be at my place by five.”

He checked his rearview mirror again before turning his head back to the road.

You didn’t know if he was doing this on purpose, but he was driving at the slowest imaginable speed and you thought you’d reach the café faster if you just got out and walked.

He also happened to speak as slowly as he drove. “Can’t take my eyes off the road, you know. Road safety is a number one priority.”

“The world simply would not turn without capable drivers like you,” you murmured, sinking back into the seat that smelt vaguely of hospital-grade disinfectant.

The chances of you dying in an accident with him as a driver was much smaller than you dying of old age in his car.

He didn’t speak, a look of concentration as he made a turn at the curb, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“I thought Vision and Wanda were a thing,” Nat remarked, peering over your shoulder and into your phone when Bucky texted you. Regardless of the content of said text, you smiled anyway when you saw it was from him leading her to completely invade your privacy.

It was just a stupid meme anyway- something that he thought would be an apt goodnight message.

“Wanda doesn’t even remember him.“

“Ouch,” Clint winced from beside you. “That’s gotta hurt the dude in the feelings.”

“Assuming he has more of an emotional quotient than a potted plant,” you muttered grabbing your pencil from under Clint’s hand.

The three of you had assignments due next week, which you decided to do together over many cups of coffee and energy drinks.

“I’m gonna fail this stupid fuckin’ thing. We had to do a meta-analysis of this stupid novel and all I’ve done is watch the fucking movie,” Nat groaned, burying her head in the sheets right by your leg. “I can’t believe I paid a school thousands of dollars, which I don’t have, just to write a meta-analysis, which I haven’t done.”

“Get up, c’mon. You can do this,” you said, nudging her with your foot. She swatted it away, choosing to lie there.

“Nat, I’m too broke to make it rain at the strip club you’ll work at if you drop out. Come on. Let’s get this grade.” Clint rolled his eyes, prodding at her with his pencil.

“You’re so mean, Clit. I’d never invite you to my place of strip anyway.” She raised her head to pout at him but rolled over nonetheless to sit up straight.

“Strip club. And I told you to stop calling me Clit.”

“Whatever.”

As you pulled into the coffee shop eight hours later, you reached over to open the car door only to have him damn near hiss at you.

You reeled back in surprise, watching him shake his head vehemently and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“It’s dangerous out there, especially with those zero-traction shoes. Over 17,000 people die annually because of slipping and falling. Twenty percent to thirty percent of people who slip and fall will suffer injuries like hip fractures, or head injuries.”

”Zero to a hundred real quick, my friend,” you stated, nevertheless not moving. “I know it may not seem like much to you, but I do know how to walk. Been getting enough practice all my life.”

“This is a matter of life and death, Y/N. What if you slip on the sidewalk and crack your skull open? I’d be the one who would have to account to the officers about the lack of awareness when it comes to winter treading and it wasn’t fun the last time it happened,” he said, all in one breath, his head moving side to side furiously.

You stared at him, unable to form any words. Absolutely nothing.

He got out of the car, one foot at a time before slowly standing up and assessing his surroundings. Finally, he took one step forward before pausing and doing it again until he finally reached the other side of the car to open your door.

Wonderful.

“Be careful, don’t jump out too fast,” he commented, holding his hand out to you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“It was made very clear to ensure your safety at all times. James was very, very–“ he looked like he struggled to find the words “—fastidious about it.”

“Oh?”

“Say, Y/N, why exactly is Barnes setting you up with such… specimens?”

“He asked if I needed help in finding someone ‘dateable’. I agreed.”

“Your reasoning being?”

“Why not?”

“Excellent logic.”

“I was bored, Clint. He looked like he genuinely wanted to help.”

“Why didn’t he just set you up with himself?” Clint twirled his highlighter around his fingers. “He missed a great opportunity to pull the greatest plot twist of the century.”

“I really don’t think-“

“It’s probably not the best plot twist. He’s making it pretty obvious with the whole intense staring and heart eyes and writing on your cup thing.”

“Okay, first of all, there is no heart eyes or intense staring or- wait, what writing on my cup thing?” you caught yourself mid-sentence.

“Clint!” Nat hissed, glaring at him.

Clint looked between Nat and you for a few seconds before letting out the most apathetic and monotone, “Oops.”

“You just ruined it, you shit-eating fuck hammer. Bucky’s going to kill us both and then himself when he finds out.”

The place Vis took you was actually decent. It was the nicer of the two coffee shops in town, the other one being where Bucky worked. Still, something was missing and soon you felt yourself missing the chipped tables and fake plants of the other joint. You liked it much more than the pristine white walls and cold plush chairs here.

“Can we get a table for two? Preferably away from the noise-“

You glanced around to pinpoint what noise exactly he was talking about but came up blank.

There were two people in the shop.

“-And away from the sunlight?”

It was cloudy outside.

“Also, could you reduce the heat, please? It’s rather suffocating.”

It was winter.

“Do y’all have tables in the restroom?” you asked blankly.

He blinked at you, expressionless, “The restroom is a goldmine for germs and particles of fecal matter. Surely you know that, Y/N.”

“I just- it was a-“ you sighed. “Okay.”

The waitress however was a sweetheart, and you made a mental note to leave her a good tip before you left. She led you to a quiet corner, meeting all of Vis’ demands before leaving you alone with the menu.

“I think I’ll just go with an Americano.” Lord knows you needed it after last night.

Vision let out a tsk of disinterest, eyes scanning over the card tediously.

“Coffee can damage your liver, increase your risk of osteoporosis, and increased blood pressure. Especially the concentrated form in espresso shots.”

“Oh bother, well, I’ll just have to take that chance.“

“I prefer tea; rich in oxidizing properties. It’s also a wonderful material for composting,” he continued, ignoring your statement. He snapped the card shut, smiling knowingly at you.

The both of you gave your orders before returning back to the non-existent conversation at hand.  Vision chose to keep his hands on the table in front of him. It felt like he was about to give you The Talk. He looked straight into your eyes, never faltering or looking away.

“So,” you dragged out the word, pressing your lips together when he didn’t respond or shift his stare. “What’s u-“

“Do you compost?” he asked suddenly, not breaking eye contact.

“Compost?”

“Yes.”

“I would, but I can’t-post.” You grinned at him, expecting a laugh or at least a groan.

“I compost,” he said stoically.

“That’s great, Vis. What else do you-“ you tried to veer the conversation in some other direction because you had a very good idea of where this was heading.

“I have my own compost. Have you tried making one of your own?” he asked simply. “It’s very simple.”

“I gotta say, buddy, I’m not wildly passionate about it right now.”

“Do you want me to tell you how to make one?”

You blinked at him. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you.”

You screamed internally, smiling at him nonetheless.

It was 4:40. You’d be out of there soon enough.

“Why would you tell her that?!”

“What the hell are you both talking about?” you demanded, shoving your things aside and sitting up straight.

“How would I know she didn’t know?” he ignored you, instead answering to Nat, who was beginning to look somewhat like an angry parrot.

“Jesus Christ, will someone just tell me what don’t I know before I start throwing hands?”

“The shit James writes on your to-go cup every time you show up at his workplace.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you nearly shouted to match their volume.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen them! They’re so glaringly obvious, he might as well be sticking neon signs declaring his love on them.”

“I have never seen any of what you’re talking about except the ‘Mario’ he writes.”

“That’s only one side. Haven’t you seen the other?”

“No! Why would I?”

“He writes really cute messages on them,” Nat said quietly. “Some of them are normal stuff, like “I hope you have a really beautiful day” the others are like small bits of poetry that I think he writes.”

You stayed quiet, trying to absorb this information as much as possible.

“It was pretty clear that he didn’t want any of us-“ she glared at Clint who finally looked a bit guilty –“to tell you.”

“I genuinely thought you knew. He’s been doing it for months now.”

“I didn’t,” you muttered, sinking back. “That explains the weird thing he does whenever I throw away one of the cups.

“You what?!” Nat screeched, leaping to her knees. “Why would you throw them away?!”

“Hey, I didn’t know!” you defended yourself, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I literally found out about them thirty seconds ago.”

“Can you imagine how shitty he feels?”

“Now’s a good time to stop.”

“Just watching the girl you love throw away things you’ve made an effort to make?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“And that would be intimidating if you were… well, intimidating.”

“So once you finish one layer, you move onto the next and so on and so forth.” Vision stirred his cup for what seemed like the twentieth time and at that point, it was much more interesting than the shit coming out of his mouth.

He had been speaking for composting for what felt like a good hour, not allowing you to get a word in sideways about any topic that would be infinitely more interesting than this.

“Y/N, did you hear what I said?”

“What?” you jerked your head when you heard your name. “Oh, yeah.”

“Did you like a part in particular?”

Fuck.

“Loved the part about the… layers.”

“Layers are really the key to this whole thing, if you don’t have enough-“

“You know what has layers?” you said quickly, sitting up straight. “Onions. Ogres are like onions. What is your favorite movie?” if you had to hear him speak about soil and manure one more time, you were going to drown yourself in your tears right then and there.

You could feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, but you didn’t bother answering it before putting it on silent, feeling like you at least owed him basic etiquette.

“I’m not done,” he said blankly, “Now, as I was saying, layers really bring out the-“

You bring your hand down on the table a little too harshly but quickly cover it up with a smile. His voice faltered slightly before pausing when you looked at him expectantly.

“I don’t have a favorite movie. I think they’re all too dependent on suspension of disbelief. There is no true realism. None of them truly cater to what I want.”

“You’re a film major.” “So I can make films that capture the true essence of-“ he inhaled deeply before gesturing with his hands “—everything.”

The same waitress from before asked you if you wanted a refill, to which you agreed, Vision doing the same. You fiddled around with your cup in silence for a while, not knowing how to continue.

“Do you want to hear my idea for a script?”

“Sure.”

“It starts with a twenty minute shot of the ocean. Just lets you get into the tone of the movie. Then the next shot is of a horse stable. Then the next is of a wilted meadow. Then an opening door. Then an unruly bed. Then-“

“That sounds great, but what’s it about, Vis?” you emphasized, hoping to speed things up.

“I’m getting there, but please remember this desire for narrative has been fed to you. Without narrative, we truly push away from the comfort films provide and embrace a reflection of the world around us,” he insisted. “The next shot is a branch. Then a towel. Then-“

You nearly banged your head on the table.

“A church. A running tap, just to introduce motion, you know, to get things moving-“

“You need to make a move. Tell him you know about the cups.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

It was 4am and all of you had collective taken a break from whatever it is that you were doing around thirty minutes ago and were now just laying there, waiting for the caffeine rush to wear off.

“Why not?”

“Why do you care so much, Clint?” you asked, slightly irritated.

He moved his hands to rest on his abdomen. “I don’t. It’s just agonizing to watch.”

“Don’t watch then.”

“Fine I’ll date him then. I’ll get him to write me love letters too.”

“Go for it,” you snorted, shaking your head.

“Maybe I will. I’ll ask him out today, just watch me.”

“Don’t let him break your heart, babe,” Nat encouraged him.

“He’d have to reject me to do that.”

“Why on earth would he ever do that?” she poked at his cheek, watching him grumble and shove her away.

“I think he and Dot are a thing,” you said suddenly, facing the ceiling.

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t look too invested.”

“They hang out a lot now, did you know?” you continued, ignoring Clint.

“You should ask him. Set the record straight.”

“I think I’ll keep all my feelings to myself and then die, thanks.”

“Just tell him, man. It’ll make your life much simpler,” he rolled onto his stomach to look at you. “Sweetheart, I love you, but all this pining isn’t helping either of you. Tell him, and if he likes you back, great. If he doesn’t, well, at least you’ll know, right?”

“That’s easy to say, but try doing it yourself.”

“Oh I did. The first one rejected me straight out, and it fucking sucked balls, but I could move on. Sometimes it’s better to take that chance.”

You were silent. You couldn’t believe you were actually considering what he’d said.

“Alright fine, here’s the deal. If I can gather the guts to ask out Bucky, you’ll have to do it too.” Clint held out his hand for a handshake and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Fuck outta here. You’d do it without any regrets.”

“True, but you look like you need a push and I’m offering you one.”

“I appreciate it Clint, but it’s never going to happen. I’d rather choke.”

“I’m not gonna force you, but just think about it. It’s all about a leap of faith.”

The three of you remained in silence before Nat broke it, giggling to herself.

“Are you going to ask him out though?”

“Hell, maybe I will. Five o’clock, right?” Clint looked at his watch.

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna do it, watch me.”

Five.

Five.

Five.

Fuck.

You suddenly broke out of your train of thought and scrambled for your phone, interrupting Vision’s marvelous idea for an Oscar winning script.

Your heart stopped beating altogether.

It was nearly 6:30 and there were nearly twenty unread messages and around ten missed calls illuminating your notification bar.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cursed steadily before standing up, your chair scraping against the floor behind you.

“Is something wrong?” Vision asked delicately, still clearly immersed in his thoughts.

“We need to leave now.” You pulled out enough cash to pay for your share, tugging your jacket back on hurriedly. “Now.”

“Why?”

“I’m late. I’m really, really late and we need to go now.” You had no idea that much time had gone by, scolding yourself for not keeping track of how long you were there.

“Alright, but are you-“

“Now, Vision.” You glared daggers at him until he relented, paying his amount and walking to the entrance at his own pace while you were nearly running.

From Becca:

Where are you???

From Becca:

We’re waiting for you to cut his cake

From Steve:

Hey, are you on your way?

From Becca:

McFucking Dot is here why tf is she here who invited her and why is she so touchy with bucky

From Nat:

I swear to god if you’re off making out w/ that boy instead of being here

From Wanda:

hey, we just cut the cake without you, hope you don’t mind. Where are you??

From Becca:

Someone “”””””accidentally””””” spilled their drink on dotzilla she’s all wet now

From Becca:

I can say with 80% accuracy that it wasn’t me

From Nat:

Becca just spilt her drink on Dot what the hell

From Clint:

Dot just left the room to go change because this dumbass turd just poured beer over her. now’s my chance

From Becca:

Yo where tf are you

From Nat:

We’re just sitting around, watching a movie. Are you showing up?? Why aren’t you answering our calls? Is everything okay?

From Becca:

Clint just asked out Bucky wtf sdjhgdkjfhgkdjfhg

From Clint:

I asked him out. he rejected me. I think I’m gonna keep trying

From Nat:

Clit’s bribing Bucky into saying yes

From Clint:

He said no im leaving this bullshit party

From Becca:

I just told Bucky you’ll be running late are you even showing up where are you

From Bucky:

Date going well? Hope you’re safe. Saving you a piece of cake 🍰

“Can you drive a little faster, please?” you urged him, furiously responding to everyone’s texts as quickly as you could.

“I’m already going as fast as I can,” he replied, driving at almost half the speed limit.

“Sweet Jesus,” you breathed out, running your hands through your hair. “Alright Vis, detour. Drop me off at this address.”

__

You didn’t wait to catch your breath as you ran up three flights of stairs to his dorm room, hands repeatedly slapping against the door.

A minute later it swung open, revealing a slightly panicked Bucky.

“What the-“

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so fucking sorry. I lost track of time and I didn’t even realize, it was entirely-“

“Woah, hey- hey it’s okay. It’s okay. ” He opened the door wider, a mix of confusion and concern on his face. “Take a second to catch your breath.”

As you did, you noticed he was wearing a black t-shirt that had no business looking that good, grey sweatpants, and his hair was pulled into a half bun, having grown longer due to months of not trimming it. He looked beautiful.

You took a moment off of staring at his stupidly attractive face, and beyond his shoulder into his dorm. You could see the empty beer cans littering his living room, the clear signs of a party.

“Everyone left?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah, just a few minutes ago.”

“Shit, Bucky-“ You sighed, frustration evident in your voice, feeling your heart sink. “I never meant to miss this, I promise.”

“I know you didn’t, don’t worry. I see you almost everyday, Y/N, it’s definitely okay to miss one evening.” He laughed lightly, shifting his weight to his other shoulder.

“It’s your birthday.”

“Like I said, it’s just another day.” He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s nothing too big.”

Stop staring at his fucking chest.

“I bought you something,” you blurted out, tightening your grip on your bag. “A birthday present, I mean. I bought you a gift. For your birthday.”

Stop mumbling, you big oaf.

“Y/N,” he complained, “We talked about this. You didn’t have to-“

“It’s a journal,” you interrupted him, scrambling through the contents of your backpack to find it. “Each page has a question. 365 days, 365 questions. I mean, theoretically, it doesn’t work for leap years but, you know, this coming year isn’t one and I-”

You finally grabbed hold of the brown, leather bound book, pulling it out with ease and holding it out to him.  He looked back at you without a word.

“And I know how much you like writing, I just thought it’d be nice to look back on how much you change or how much your thoughts change over the year.” You pushed it forward gently, urging him to take it. He held onto it silently, running his fingers along the pages before flipping open to the first page.

You keep records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them. If you want to Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education, it’s history.

You watched him read it, his eyes widening slightly once he realized where the excerpt was from.

“That’s- that’s from-”

“The Catcher in the Rye. Yeah.” You shifted uncomfortably when he fell silent again, staring at you without a word.

Great.

“I know it’s stupid and nowhere near anything you’ve gotten me and I can get you something else-”

“I love it.” The look in his eyes made you want to melt. “So fucking much.”

“Really?” You couldn’t hide the surprise from your voice.

“It’s probably one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever given me.”

“There are some really stupid questions in there, like about memes and stuff because I thought you’d like it, but the rest are relatively normal.”

“It’s absolutely perfect.” He blew a few strands out of his face, letting his hands fall to his side. He opened his mouth to say something else but instead he shut it again.

It was probably the silence that ensues that made your fight or flight instincts take over because the next thing you realized is that you had both your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug, earning a small ‘woah’ from him.

It took him about a second but he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in closer, if that was even possible, dropping his forehead into crook of your shoulder. He smelt of fresh laundry and cinnamon and you couldn’t help the breath that escaped your lips. You could feel his breath tingling your neck and the warmth he exuded seeping in through your sweater. It reminded you of home.

You unwillingly pulled back, stuffing your hands back into your pockets awkwardly. “Happy birthday, James.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, biting his lip. “I, uh, saved you a piece of cake.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Finally he shook himself out of whatever he was thinking, moving and holding open the door invitingly. “Do you- uh- do you want some?”

Just tell him you like him, for the love of God.

“James I-“

“Bucky? Do you know where the tissues- oh hey Y/N!” There was no mistaking who walked out from Bucky’s bathroom. Bucky whipped his head around, confused, before who it was registered in his mind and he turned to look at you again.

“Hey Dot.”

“We missed you today,” she chirped, approaching the doorway, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Yeah, me too.” Something was amiss about her before you finally caught on.

She was wearing his shirt.

Oh.

“Um, I better get going.” You swallowed. It felt like you were missing something crucial. Why would she be wearing his shirt at his place?

“Wait, I thought-“ he furrowed his eyebrows, straightening up.

“It’s getting pretty late, I gotta go.” You half-smiled, pointing behind you to the setting sun. “Maybe some other time.”

“At least let me drop you back. Let me just grab my keys-“ he turned around, ready to walk back into his apartment.

“It’s okay,” you interrupted him, taking a step back. “I could use the fresh air.”

“It’ll be dark out soon.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured him, continuing to walk backward before waving at him. “I’ll catch you later, Buck. Bye Dot.”

“Y/N-“ he tried again but you just waved again before spinning on your heel and walking off, waiting till you were out of eyesight before fumbling for your phone and calling Nat to come pick you up from his dorm because sure, you may be feeling like shit, but that didn’t mean you were going to walk home in the middle of winter, alone.

Leap of faith, my ass, you thought.

Leap off a fucking cliff was more like it.

Part 9

[rainythefox]

Nightfall (Ch.8)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling upon dark secrets. She can't call the law; Wesker is the law, and she can't tell Chris. She is trapped...Claire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill.

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Chapter 8: Know When to Lie

Claire turned the keys to the ignition off in the truck and got out. Morning rush was particularly slow and busy on her way back from the police station after dropping off Chris. Even with the freshly salted and bulldozed roads, there was still an accident. The younger Redfield sibling was just happy to be back home. She needed peace and quiet to figure out her next move in this life or death chess game. She was, at the very least, happy to see that the sun had finally come out after days of gloomy cloud coverage.

Hello big, bright yellow ball in the sky, you feel so nice!

If it hadn’t been so nippy from the morning chill, she would’ve stayed outside to bask in it. Sighing, Claire unlocked Chris’s house and went inside. She hung up her parka and Chris’s keys and went into the kitchen to get a bottled water. She paused, brows furrowing as she noticed the small, colorful piece of paper stuck on the counter top in an obvious place. She froze reaching for the refrigerator handle, staring at the elegant handwriting on the note. It definitely wasn’t hers and it definitely wasn’t Chris’s.

Her heart began beating faster as a chill ran over her. Someone’s been in the house…

Swallowing, Claire slowly reached over and picked up the note and read it. Raccoon Park, Angel Statue, Noon. Come alone.

Claire read it over and over again. She didn’t recognize the penmanship. Questions raced through her mind. Who wrote this? What did they want? Was this a trap? But the note wouldn’t answer any of these. The handwriting looked feminine, but that didn’t mean that Wesker didn’t put it here on purpose to trick her.

Claire grabbed her gun and searched the house. Nothing was out of place. She was all alone here. Whoever broke into the house to plant the note was a master at stealth. After confirming the house was safe, Claire went back to the kitchen. She wondered all morning whether she should go or not. She couldn’t risk it being a trap of some sort, whether by Wesker or someone else. But what if it was someone who could help her? Why risk losing that opportunity? If she went, Claire would have to play this smart and cool. She wouldn’t know what she would be getting into at that point.

Once she finally made up her mind that she would meet this mysterious note writer, Claire got ready. The morning hours dragged by excruciating slow it seemed like. She ignored any second guessing or stress attempting to get under her skin and stayed resolved. She drove to Raccoon Park and arrived a little early. After sitting in the truck for a few minutes, preparing herself for whatever could happen, she grabbed her gun and got out.

She locked the truck and stuffed the keys in her pocket. Her gun was in the inside pocket of her parka; snug, secure, hidden. She shook more from nerves than the icy cold outside but fixed her scarf anyway. She walked through the park, heading for the angel statue mentioned in the note. There was only one such statue in the large park in northern Raccoon City.

The park was covered in snow, trees bare, not even a single crispy leaf left on a branch. The winter gave a certain beauty to the park, but it also added an air of solace. In spring and summer, the park looked quite different. Very few people were out here in the cold, even with the sun out. Claire passed a couple walking their dog, and the basketball and tennis courts were empty. Even the playground equipment was left forgotten, accumulating snow from the night before. The plaza and fountain, too, were devoid of most life.

Because of the bare trees, Claire could see Raccoon General Hospital just across the street. The sound of traffic could be heard faintly, but the cawing crows and skittering squirrels were closer. When she passed over the bridge of Circular River, the river that cut through Raccoon City, she knew she was getting close to the angel statue.

She found it near the entrance to the cemetery in the back of the big park. The lonely angel statue was old, tarnished and cracked. A few icicles dangled off of the angel, its shoulders and extended wings draped with snow. The forlorn, soulless face stared down at Claire, unmoving and vigilant.

DONG!!!

Claire jumped, spinning as crows took to the sky with raucous caws. Saint Michael Clock Tower had just hit noon next door to the hospital. The twelve loud, hollow dongs echoed across the park. The final chime died away, swept away by icy wind. Claire stepped closer to the statue. She had made it on time, but no one was around. 

Sighing, Claire looked up at the angel. She felt so isolated and alone. It wasn’t even a week ago that she was here with Chris and Jill ice-skating on the other side of the park, oblivious to the evils of Albert Wesker. If only she hadn’t gone to the mountain trails the following morning, she would still be oblivious…and safe. She asked the statue silently…why? But the angel, melting snow streaming down her face like tears, did not answer her.

“Devils are attracted to angels, didn’t you know?”

Claire’s heart leapt to her throat, and she turned, hand going to the hidden gun in her coat. A woman approached her slowly, large sunglasses hiding most of her beautiful, ivory face. She had dark hair that shone like raven feathers and wore a black mink coat, a scarf, and a red dress with leggings and fur-lined boots. She looked like she had just stepped out of a fashion show, a model out on an afternoon stroll. Claire kept her cool. She didn’t recognize the lady at all, but something told her she needed to watch herself.

The woman’s red lips quirked. “And you’ve caught the interest of the worst devil of all, little angel.”

“Who are you?” Claire asked.

“Shh, we can’t talk here,” she answered. “Follow me.”

Claire didn’t budge as the mysterious woman took a few steps towards the cemetery. She paused, looking over her shoulder, pulling away her sunglasses to reveal honey-brown eyes and long lashes. “You coming, Claire? Don’t worry, you won’t need to use that gun in your pocket.”

Claire was intrigued but confused. She cautiously followed the woman into Circular River Cemetery. They walked the recently salted paths through the silent, empty graveyard. The numerous headstones came in all shapes and sizes, all covered in softening snow under the glare of the sun. The sound of water dripping from melting snow could be heard. Crows perched in the twisted, bare branches of the trees watched them closely. The two women finally stopped in front of a large, fancy granite headstone taller than them and shaped like a cross.

The woman looked Claire over, thinking to herself. The college student did the same to her, trying to figure out who she was.

“So? Who are you? What do you want with me?” Claire demanded.

“That’s not important. Tell me what happened between you and Albert.”

“Why? What are you going to do to me?”

The mysterious woman sighed. “Relax, Claire. I’m not here to kill you or get you into more trouble. I’m trying to understand what’s going on.”

Claire shook her head, standing her ground. “Sorry, lady, but I’ve been having a real hard time trusting people lately.”

“For good reason, it sounds like.” The raven-haired beauty chuckled. Her smile soon faded. “Alright, it’s only fair, I suppose. I’m Ada Wong.”

Claire stepped away from her, shocked. Ada must’ve read her expression, and slipped her sunglasses inside her pocket. “You’ve heard of me. How much do you know?”

“Annette Birkin mentioned you…that’s all I know, I swear.”

Ada raised an eyebrow. “So…Albert and the Birkins? Aren’t you getting tangled in quite the web? Tell me what happened between you and Albert.”

Claire’s shoulders sagged. “Fine…I was out running on the Arklay Hiking Trails and stumbled upon him and William Birkin murdering this poor guy.”

“Ned Finley. Trust me, he wasn’t a great guy. Regardless…you were caught by Albert?”

Claire nodded. “Blackmailed me. Said if I don’t stay quiet, he will kill me and my brother.”

“Your brother is a STARS officer, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“How did you meet Annette then?” Ada inquired, still looking Claire over as though she was trying to figure her out.

“Well, I tried going to Chief Irons, thinking he could help me. But he was in on it too, and he made William take me down into this underground facility run by Umbrella. I met Annette there.”

“Oh, boy…And Albert arrived there to get you?”

Claire didn’t like where this was going. “Y-Yeah…but he hid me from this Colonel Sergei guy first.”

Ada’s brows furrowed, lips quirking. “Albert…playing hide and seek with the Colonel over a college girl? What do you have planned?”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, it’s just that you are quite different from his other…victims. When Albert gets control over someone, they’re usually pawns with certain knowledge or skills he can use for his own agenda. Innocent people like you, however...well, they’re usually killed...if they’re lucky. So the million dollar question here is…why you?"

Claire glared at her. “I’ve been asking myself that same question. But you know what? I don’t really give a fuck anymore, I just want out. I want my life back to normal and I want my brother safe! What is your part in all of this anyway?”

“Well, I’m suppose to dispose of you, for one.” Ada held up a hand when Claire reached for her hidden gun. “But killing innocent people just isn’t my style. I avoid it if all possible. So, I guess that leaves my part with determining what Albert wants with you.”

Claire snorted and crossed her arms. “Yeah, let me know if you figure that out.”

Ada nodded. “I will. But you must promise me something, Claire, or both of us will be in dire straits.”

“What is it?’

“You cannot tell anyone you met me, especially Albert, and you need to stay out of trouble with him. Do as he says and don’t try to expose him. Just be a perfect little angel for that devil.”

“You’re crazy. I’m not gonna be his plaything!”

Ada softly laughed. “You kinda already are. And unfortunately, if you want your brother to live, you’ll have to play the part for awhile. At least until I figure out what he is planning. Albert isn’t the only danger, Claire. There are other people who may find out about you, and you and your brother will be dead no matter what then. At least use Albert’s leash on you to your advantage, he is obviously protecting you for a reason. Fighting him will only make him decide you aren’t worth the risk.”

She made a good point. Claire thought back to the whole situation with Colonel Sergei in NEST. “Fine, I promise, but only if you help me out of this mess.”

“That’s easier said than done. Until we figure out what Albert wants with you, I won’t be of much help. But I’ll do what I can.”

Claire was surprised in her answer. “Really? Even though you and Wesker are friends? Even though you work for Umbrella, too?”

“Albert and I are not friends, allies on occasion, but mostly we just use each other,” Ada answered with a frown. “As far as Umbrella goes, they aren’t the only one I work for, and it depends on my interests at the time on who I support.”

Claire knew she wasn’t going to get a better answer than that. It looked like she was going to have to put her faith into this mysterious woman, despite the warnings she received from the Birkins. Then again, she couldn’t trust their word either.

“Okay…I’ll do my best to stay out of trouble.”

Ada nodded. “Good. I’ll see what I can find out in the meantime. I’ll get in contact with you soon. I’ll leave here first. Wait five minutes before leaving after me in case we are being watched.”

The beautiful woman turned and started heading out of the cemetery, but only managed a few steps before Claire called out at her. “Is it true…did you beat Wesker at his own game?”

Ada was quiet at first, deciding her words carefully. “There’s more than winning or losing, Claire. I may have gotten the upper hand on him once, but the sacrifice I made to do so wasn’t worth it in the end. And I am still paying for it. It’s best to not play a game of chess with the Devil, because even if you win, you’ll still lose.”

Claire barely nodded, disappointed. Ada left the cemetery after that without even looking back. Claire remained by the large cross headstone, thinking over what just happened. She almost felt overwhelmed, her life was getting too risky, too complicated. She longed to return to the old ways being oblivious and safe. Ada may surprisingly be her best hope now, but Claire felt it in her bones that she still couldn’t completely trust the woman.

The younger Redfield sibling sighed, feeling a headache coming on. I need a coffee…

Ada spent the next few hours after talking to the Redfield girl watching Wesker’s movements. He seemed consistently busy with STARS and so felt it was safe to corner William when he was least expecting it. If Ada was able to get William away from Wesker and Annette, he would probably talk, at least with her. She was persuasive enough. William didn’t trust her completely, but they did get along. 

Wesker being out of the picture long enough wasn’t a problem, so long as he was at the RPD. Annette was a different story. She did not like Ada and didn’t trust her at all. Ada hated dealing with her. And so when she found out that Annette was leaving NEST to go pick up their daughter Sherry, Ada took the risk and slipped into the subterranean base right behind her.

She knew if Wesker hadn’t already caught on to her snooping around that this would do it. Not just because of William, whether he stayed quiet or not, but because there was no reason for her to be down in NEST in the first place.

Ada got her Visitor’s wristband from the front desk with a special “All Access” chip courtesy of Lord Spencer and Sergei. With Annette out of the way, Ada’s stroll through NEST was a piece of cake. Most people knew who she was and didn’t bother her. The agent made her way to the West Section where she knew William would be. She arrived to his personal laboratory after stepping through the decontamination chamber. Ada wasn’t surprised that even her “All Access” wristband wouldn’t allow her entry.

Ada looked over her shoulder, making sure no one was around and pulled out her EMF Visualizer. She hacked the door and it slid open without a problem. She stepped inside and the door closed right behind her. The laboratory was large, clean, and a little disorganized and well-used. There were quite a few computers and operating tables. There was even a small living area with a bed, a closet, and a full bathroom and a kitchenette.

The lab was quiet except for the faint humming of the computers, incubators, and various other machinery. The most distinct sound, however, was that of William standing over his computer typing away. He had his thinking face on, and didn’t even bother looking up. Ada wasn’t sure if he just didn’t hear her or assumed she was Annette, as only the Birkins and a select few were allowed in here. It was humorous to watch for a moment, his mind racing calculations and solutions at an impressive rate. If there was anyone smarter than Wesker as far as virology and pathology went, it was definitely this man before her.

William changed his posture, putting more weight on his left foot as he paused in his typing to look down at some notes, chewing on his lip. Ada heard his pager go off a couple of times but the genius didn’t bother fetching it. Ada quietly approached, her eyes scanning over the computer screen, expecting to see intricate notes on Golgotha, the G-Virus, that he was always working on. Instead, she saw an interesting title with a few head-scratching terms. Project W? Surely you can do better than name a project after yourself, Will…

“Prototype Virus? What’s that?”

William jumped out of his skin, whirling around and blocking the computer screen with his body. His hand felt for the keyboard and he exited out of the program he was in. “Jesus Christ! What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Relax!” Ada laughed. “Geez, you’re jumpy.”

“Well, damn straight I am, you’re not supposed to be here!”

Ada put a finger to her lips, winking at him. He breathed heavily, still half-panicked. Ada ran her fingers delicately up his chest, leaning in close. William gulped, leaning back even further into his desk. Ada rubbed his shoulders, caressed her hands up his neck and the man almost melted in her fingers.

“Is that better, Will?” Ada asked seductively.

His throat was dry. “You…you should leave, Ada. Seriously.”

Ada pulled him away from the computer. “I won’t stay long. Promise. Help a girl out?”

Ada slipped out of her coat and laid it over a nearby chair. William’s eye twitched, and he tried to back away, but Ada grabbed his wrists. “I just have a few questions, handsome, and then I’m out of your hair.”

A strangled sound came from William’s throat. “No…Ada…you don’t understand.”

Ada was sure her flirtations would quickly melt William, but he wasn’t budging. Barely. Just as she saw William gulp, his eyes darting to the laboratory door, her gut churned. She backed away. He was trying to warn her. Shit, he knows…

When the door to William’s laboratory slid open with a chime, Ada inwardly shuddered. She saw William’s puppy-dog look of an apology and moved away from her. Ada took a deep breath and gathered herself as the sound of boot steps filled the laboratory. The crispy static of a walky-talky buzzed in her nerves, but Ada slyly smiled and turned around.

“Albert…just who I was looking for.”

Wesker wore his STARS Captain uniform. She saw the buzzing radio on his hip, as well as the gleaming holstered Samurai Edge that has killed many an unfortunate soul. He didn’t have his headset on, but his shades were there as usual. William didn’t say a word, eyes flicking between them and shivering like a nervous, small dog.

“Ms. Wong. Fancy seeing you all the way down here. What brings you to the heart of William’s domain?”

Ada smiled innocently. “Business.”

A faint chuckle escaped Wesker’s lips, echoing softly in the laboratory and making his friend a little sweaty.

“Really?” Wesker sounded intrigued. “Are you here to kill William?”

“No.”

“Are you here to steal his research and sell it to the two other companies you spy for?”

Ada flinched, but kept a straight face. “No.”

There was that devious smile that she both loved and hated. “Then you are not here on business, are you?”

“You’d be surprised, actually.”

“Oh? Do enlighten me, Ada.”

William couldn’t take the pressure, bursting out just beside them. “I gotta get some coffee! Do you guys want coffee? Of course you do! Everybody wants coffee!”

He beelined for the exit, but Wesker snatched his shirt and slammed him into the nearby wall. “Aww c’mon, Al! I didn’t say shit!”

“You forgot to ask our lovely lady here if she wants sugar or creamer,” Wesker said with a half-glare.

“Black is fine, Will, thanks,” Ada answered without taking her eyes off Wesker.

William eagerly nodded. Wesker let him go. The Golgotha researcher practically dematerialized he left so fast. Ada and Wesker glared at each other. Ada was going to have to play this cool. She regretted not sending him a coded message earlier. She should’ve known he would’ve caught onto her fast.

“I’m waiting,” Wesker growled. The man may have had unlimited patience, but he hated waiting longer than he needed to.

At this point, honesty would be her best bet here…with a few white lies. “Sergei’s asked me to investigate a strange matter. He thinks you didn’t kill a witness…a girl named Claire Redfield.” She smiled flirtatiously at him. “Lucky for you, I’m on your side. So, tell me the truth, Albert. What’s going on exactly?”

Wesker remained collected, just as he always did, even under pressure. “Is that right? What makes him assume that I haven’t disposed of her already?”

Ada cocked her head with a cute smile. “Do you really think he would tell me that much?”

Wesker chuckled. That was a good sign. “A valid point. But you already knew Ms. Redfield wasn’t dead, did you Ada?”

Ada’s heart skipped but she remained impassive. The possibility that Albert knew of her meeting with Claire in the park was slim. She couldn’t expose herself. After all, every interaction with Wesker was a test of wills, a game of calculation and strategy.

With a seductive smile, she pulled in just a little closer to the Devil. She tiptoed two fingers up his chest playfully. “Why do you say that, Albert? I actually had no clue, but thanks for confirming that she is, in fact, still alive.”

Wesker wasn’t fazed. “What will you tell Sergei?”

The agent shrugged. “Depends. What purpose does Claire have to you? She’s a nobody…a college student. It isn’t possible she could benefit you in any way.”

“Who said I was using her?”

“You use everyone to your own advantage. Even your best friend.”

His lips barely quirked. “In that case, I see many ways that Ms. Redfield could benefit me.”

“What are they?”

“Why should I enlighten you?”

“Just to satiate my curiosity. Do you want my help getting Sergei off your back or not?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Ms. Wong. Besides, I look forward to luring Sergei where I want him. And Ms. Redfield could act as leverage in the process.”

He’s not going to reveal anything. Let it go, Ada…Best to stop while you’re ahead…

“Fine. I’ll get Sergei off your back for now, but seriously Albert you’re going to have to throw me a bone here because I cannot keep him at bay for long.”

“Sure you can, Ada,” Wesker purred with a leer. “After all, it is in your best interest that I stick around, is it not?”

She glared at him. “Maybe so. But it is also in your best interest that I stick around as well.”

“Touché,” Wesker chuckled.

“You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Isn’t that what we always say?”

“You want a bone? Then how about this…Let’s just say that if I can utilize Claire Redfield in the way that I want, better…opportunities will arise for the both of us.”

That caught her interest. It was distinctly vague, but it was the only kind of answer she would receive for now. And Ada wasn’t even sure how much of it she could trust, considering the source. All she knew was that it sounded as though Claire was going to be a pawn for one of Wesker’s power plays. Which meant she would most likely end up dead in the end. Poor girl. Ada actually liked her.

“What’s the matter? Bone too small?”

Ada softly laughed. “Nah, just too many splinters to chew on. It just sucks for the poor girl, is all.”

Just as the laboratory door slid open again, Wesker smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of Claire.”

Ada thought that was a strange thing for him to say, even if he was joking. She didn’t have time to dwell on it though as William entered with a tray holding three cups of steaming coffee. He grinned at them, looking a lot more composed, and Ada wondered if it wasn’t just the tension between her and Wesker that had made him so jumpy, but the mysterious “Prototype Virus” she caught him working on.

“Did I miss the uncomfortable conversation that I aimed to avoid?” William asked.

Ada laughed. “Yes Will, you did. Good job.”

“Thank God!”

After Ada left the laboratory, William brought up the video feed of the security footage and watched her make it halfway across NEST before feeling better. William sighed in relief but when his eyes caught Wesker’s hard glare behind his sunglasses, he shrunk a little. Shades or no shades, expression or no expression, the Golgotha researcher could read his partner like a book. After all, they had known each other since they were kids.

“Hey. Don’t give me that look. You knew before me,” William huffed.

Wesker folded his arms. “You really should pay more attention to your surroundings, Will. She hacked her way right into this laboratory and you were alone.”

“Awww. I love it when you care. Thanks, bud! I mean you’re right though.” William tapped his chin in thought. “Maybe I should start requiring her to go through a metal detector or have a full body search when she visits NEST.”

His friend shook his head. “You’re an idiot sometimes.”

“Don’t be a dick. I’ve been up for 33 hours.”

Wesker snagged him by the shirt again, the power in one arm almost lifting his friend right off the floor. William covered his face. “Not the face! It’s still sore from Claire! I told you, I didn’t say shit to her!”

Wesker sighed. “You sure are paranoid today.” The STARS Captain brushed William’s shirt off and fixed his tie for him. “I honestly don’t care whether you disclosed anything to her or not.”

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing allowing a mole like her to live. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and I like her and everything, but I can’t risk my research.”

“Relax. She’s an asset. You don’t have to worry about her. At least for now.”

“Even as she’s snooping around for Sergei? If he finds out about all we’ve done…”

“It’s in Ada’s best interest to help me over help the Colonel. Trust me.”

William made a face. “I hate when you say that. It gives me anxiety.”

“Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?”

“No, but your ploys often put me in stressful situations, regardless.”

Wesker chuckled. “You exaggerate, my friend. I do no such thing.”

The Golgotha creator folded his arms with a skeptical look. “Oh yeah? Then why are you here?”

“I need you to relay a message to the Redfield girl.”

William tossed his arms in the air. “Ya see?! Exaggerate my ass, Al!”

Wesker shrugged, frowning. “I suppose you're right. Perhaps you shouldn’t relay the message. Perhaps I should dispose of her instead.”

“Yes, my thoughts exactly!”

The STARS Captain rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But then…there goes my plan to lure Roth out into the open and identify who he is collaborating with. Such a shame. I guess the Ashfords will get away with stealing our research.”

William’s face fell and he soon glared at Wesker. “I fucking hate it when you do that. Fine, whatever, what’s the message?”

Wesker clapped William on the shoulder so hard, the sleep-deprived scientist half-crumpled with a yelp. “That’s the spirit, Will.”

William rubbed his shoulder with a grimace. “Yeah…sure, bud. So, what do I need to tell her?”

The faint smirk that rose on Wesker’s lips reminded him of the Devil. There were times when William thought they were one and the same.

“It’s true, he really said that!”

Jill laughed. “Holy shit. He really has it out for you, doesn’t he?”

Chris shrugged. “I don’t have a damn clue what I did to him. I’m only an asshole to him after he’s been an asshole first.”

“Somebody probably just pissed in his cornflakes as usual. Although, the other day, I did hear Marty say he walked by Irons' office while he was talking with the Captain and all he could hear was screaming and cussing and then it got real quiet.”

“Twenty bucks says Wesker told him off. He doesn’t like him anymore than we do. He seriously doesn’t take any of Irons’ shit. I don’t know how he gets away with it sometimes. I just hope it wasn’t about me. I haven’t talked to the Chief all week.”

Jill turned down the next road in her car. The snowy suburban neighborhood was quiet and didn’t have much traffic. “Wouldn’t be the first time that Wesker raised hell with the Chief over his treatment of you or any of us for that matter. I wouldn’t worry about it. No telling what it was. Those two bump heads all the time. More than likely Irons was already pissed at someone else and just decided to take it out on you. Since he hates your guts anyways.”

Chris snorted. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” He frowned, looking over at his partner as she turned down the road to Chris’s house. “You sure you’re gonna be alright tonight?”

Jill glanced at him with a lop-sided smile, reaching over and smacking his shoulder. “I’ve worked double shifts just as much as you have, Redfield. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I know. Just looking out for you.”

Jill’s cheeks flushed. “Thanks, partner. But seriously! How are you going to get any work done tomorrow without me, Barry, or Wesker around? I feel sorry for Enrico having to deal with you, Forest, and Joseph. At least we know Brad and Richard will stay out of trouble.”

“What? We’ll get plenty of work done, thank you very much!”

“Wesker, Barry, and I made bets on who Enrico will flog first.”

“Haha, real funny. And it will be Forest of course…or Joseph. Eh, doesn’t matter. When you’re not there with me, the days are never as good.” Chris quickly cleared his throat, cheeks burning and stumbled on his next words. “A-And if Claire hadn’t have here, I would’ve totally gone with Barry and Robert to the gun convention in Norton.”

“Oh so Robert is able to go? Will Emma be staying the night with Moira and Polly?”

Chris nodded. “Yeah, apparently Kathy’s going to-”

He stopped mid-sentence, seeing his house coming up, but something was off about it. Chris’s heart twisted. His truck was in the driveway, which meant Claire should’ve been home. The house looked fine. But what caught his eye was the fancy, silver BMW parked at the curb in front of his house. That’s gotta be the same BMW that Ralph was talking about!

“Who’s that?” Jill asked.

“Pull over!”

“Huh?”

“Pull over here.”

Confused, Jill did as she was told, pulling her Mustang over to park beside the curb just down from the house on the opposite side of the road. She turned the car off, looking over at her best friend as he stared unblinking at the house.

“What’s going on?”

“You know how I was telling you Claire’s been acting kinda weird? Well, Ralph told me he saw her get out of a BMW after Claire had told me she drove the truck around yesterday. This has to be the same car!”

“Maybe it’s a friend of hers?” Jill suggested. “I can’t picture Claire outright lying to you.”

“Me neither, but there’s something…off about this.”

“Are you sure? It could be harmless and you’re just taking your protective brother instincts too far. It’s happened before.”

Chris thinned his lips. “I just want to make sure!”

His partner nodded, and they waited patiently in the car, keeping an eye on Chris’s house and the parked BMW in front of it. Nearly ten minutes of watching and waiting, Chris growing more restless by the minute, the front door finally opened. Chris leaned forward, trying to get a better look. He scowled, feeling a heavy weight drop in his gut. The blond man was tall, slim, and a bit older, in his thirties Chris was sure. And just like Ralph had said, this guy looked like he was a doctor of some sort by how he was dressed.

The stranger didn’t stick around. He went straight to his car, unlocking it with a keyless fob, the BMW chirping faintly, and got in. He drove off quickly, a little over the speed limit, and Chris turned in his seat to read the car’s license plate as it left.

Got it…

Chris logged the license plate number away. He could look it up tomorrow at work and do some further investigating into this whole -

“Christopher Lloyd Redfield, stop scheming.”

The STARS sharpshooter snapped his head towards his partner. “What?!”

“Don’t deny it. I know that look. You better not jump the gun on this just because it’s Claire. Talk to her first. There’s probably a logical explanation for all of this.”

Jill had on her “mom glare” the guys often joked about, but was actually kinda scary. Chris nodded enthusiastically, raising his hands and clearing the squeak from his voice. “Alright, alright. Sheesh!”

Jill slugged his shoulder for good measure and turned the car on. She drove the rest of the way to the house and pulled into the driveway.

Chris rubbed his arm. “Damn you’re mean sometimes.”

Snickering, Jill put the car in park and turned to him. “Oh, whatever. You know I’m right.”

“Well, duh, but you didn’t have to mom glare me and call me Christopher.”

She shrugged with a heartfelt smile. “Just getting my point across. I’m protective of Claire too, but she is an adult. And you two clash all the time over your…over protectiveness. You taught Claire how to protect herself. She’s strong and smart. Got a good head on her shoulders.”

“I know that! I just can’t help it!”

Jill touched his arm. “I know. And it looked to me that Claire could’ve pummeled that guy easily.” When Chris snorted a laugh, Jill squeezed his bicep. “See? You agree. Now…talk to her first and go from there.”

“Will do,” Chris said and put his hand over hers on his arm. “Thanks, partner.”

He opened the door. Jill playfully glared at him. “Try not to get in trouble without me there tomorrow, alright?”

Chris flashed her a smirk and winked. “No promises.”

Jill rolled her eyes and backed out of the driveway. Chris waved goodbye and walked to the front door, eager to get out of the cold. He paused as he opened the door, a strange feeling coming over him, one he knew. He turned and looked out to the street, the neighboring houses sitting quietly. Except for the sound of a barking dog the next street over, the neighborhood was peaceful. Normal. But he sure did feel like he was being watched for a moment.

Shrugging it off, the older Redfield sibling entered the house. He found Claire folding laundry in the living room. She didn’t look up, dazed and deep in thought. Chris cleared his throat and she snapped to, smiling his way. She continued folding laundry effortlessly as she greeted him.

“Chris! Hey! Didn’t hear you come in. How was work?”

“Hectic,” Chris replied, trying to gauge her behavior. “How’d your day go?”

She looked away from him to focus on matching socks. “Boring. Just stayed here all day and did some chores for you. You’re welcome.”

Chris smiled, though it was weak. “Thanks, Sis. But you didn’t have to.”

“I know. I just get bored sometimes. Your turn to cook though. Just saying.”

Chris chuckled. “Alright. I guess I can do that. How’s the hand?”

“Much better!”

Chris scratched the back of his head, unsure how to proceed. Claire wasn’t going to say anything. He could tell something was bothering her. His sister was oddly distracted as of late. And Chris had a feeling it had to do with whoever the man in the BMW was.

“So uh, I saw a man leave here just earlier. Who was he?” He tried his best to sound plainly curious, but he knew his sister would read right through him.

He swore he saw her wince, but she just smiled and sat the socks down and reached for another shirt. “What, worried I’m bringing boyfriends into your house, big brother?”

“Is he a boyfriend?” Chris tried not to panic.

Claire rolled her eyes. “Of course not. He’s just a friend.”

“What did he want?”

The glare he received from his sister told Chris he wouldn’t be getting anymore details anytime soon. “Just let it go, Chris. It wasn’t what you think it was. I’d rather not get into an argument over something so stupid.”

His sister reacted just like she normally would in such a case. But Chris couldn’t help but feel that something was still amiss. He let it go for now, but he knew he would have to start watching Claire closely. 

He gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Sis. Long day. What say you and me go grab some grub instead? Too tired to cook.”

Claire accepted with her own smile. “Sure, Bro. Sounds good.”

He sensed her relief to have dropped the subject. Chris would look up the man’s license plate tomorrow…just to be safe. What are you hiding, Claire?