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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

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Prisoner's Game Pt. 2 (Rowaelin)

Part 1

~Rowan~

Rowan didn't think he'd ever been so pissed off in his life.

The only time that even came close was when he lost his first and only court case, but over the years he'd come to live with that.

This though?

This immature, childish, irritatingly clever woman... he had a feeling he'd carry the rage he felt against her until the day he finally died of it.

Although, if he was honest, his returning move had been a little childish, too.

He'd ordered one of the guards to strip her cell of everything except the chess set. Her mattress, the makeshift knife he shuddered to think she'd had in the same room as him, her pillow.

If she wanted to steal his shit, he'd steal hers, too.

He'd also had the guard move one of his pawns forward on the board.

Not the most creative, but he didn't have many options.

What did you take from a woman who had nothing? How did you punish someone who was already serving the longest punishment available?

The bank had seized her assets when she'd been locked up, and the lease on her apartment had long since run out. She didn't have any personal items with her, didn't seem to even care about anything besides making his life hell.

Case in point, when he got home that night, exhausted from dealing with Aelin and spending a long day at the office, he'd discovered her retaliation.

She'd stolen his bed.

The whole goddamn thing, frame and all.

How she'd managed to get it out of a penthouse condo with security not realizing a thing, he had no idea. He knew from experience it wouldn't even fit through the door.

It'd seemed if she was going to be uncomfortable, so was he.

Steaming with anger, he'd showered and flopped on the couch like an idiot, not even able to sleep thanks to the rage she'd worked him into.

She was completely kicking his ass. From the inside of a jail cell.

He hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep before giving up on even trying. At six, he'd dressed and driven to Whitehorn and Salvaterre, the law firm he was a partner at.

If he couldn't sleep, he'd at least figure out how the hell she was pulling this shit off.

Looking through her folder, he went through her daily schedule, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

Eight am wake-up, breakfast, shower, lunch, yard time, dinner, lights out at nine. Between activities, she worked out in her cell or read a book from the run-down prison library.

In the eight years she'd been in prison, she hadn't had a single visitor. Her cousin Aedion--a playboy Rowan couldn't be paid to associate with--delivered a care package on the first of every month.

Strange, considering nothing of the sort had been in her cell.

She'd been in solitary confinement ever since randomly attacking her cellmate a little over a month ago. She was still allowed yard time and meals with the other prisoners, but she was chained at all times.

Also strange, considering Aelin wasn't the type to do anything randomly.

Rowan watched the security tapes he'd strong armed the guards into giving him, going through the past few days to see how she'd gotten out of her cell to rob him.

He watched as she was escorted to the yard, watched as she ate breakfast and lunch and dinner alone, watched as she put herself through vigorous training in her cell.

Days of footage, and he didn't find anything.

Feeling like a bit of a creep, he watched the nighttime footage of her sleeping, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

She didn't move too much or too little--both of which would indicate it wasn't really her under that thin blanket. There were no attempts to pick the locks in between her wrists and ankles, no digging into the wall behind her toilet.

Nothing.

Which meant someone was helping her.

He could go through the official channels and ask the police for her known connections, but he hadn't reported either of the robberies yet.

Partly because he wanted to deal with her himself, partly because he felt a bit stupid getting robbed from a woman in the most secure prison in the city.

Which means he'd have to go about it a different way.

Grabbing his keys from his desk, he debated how else he could make her miserable, unfortunately finding nothing else he could do to her, no revenge he could get from robbing her tiny little cell.

No, he'd have to try something new.

Maybe he could bribe her into confessing. She didn't have anything right now, but maybe he could give her something to lose.

He'd bring her lunch, force himself to apologize for yelling at her, and just politely ask who her accomplice was.

He thought on it as he rode down the elevator to the garage. It probably wouldn't work, but he didn't know what else to do.

And besides, he knew from experience Aelin didn't respond well to his anger.

Checking his email to make sure he wasn't missing any important meetings, he pressed the button on his car fob, expecting to hear the resounding beep from his designated parking spot.

Except the beep never came.

Slowly looking up, Rowan had to amend his earlier statement.

Now he didn't think he'd ever been so pissed off in his life.

He stormed over to the security booth, hardly refraining from grabbing the man inside and throwing him to the ground.

"Where's my car, Rolland?"

"In your spot, boss," the stout little man replied instantly and surely, snapping his gum and looking at him in confusion. "Haven't seen you drive out yet."

"Yes, exactly. Which is why it's a mystery why it's no longer in it's spot."

Rolland caught up slowly. "You mean... it was stolen? From here? From you?"

Jaw so tight his molars were practically fused together, Rowan growled, "Just let me see the security tapes from this morning."

The guard nodded quickly, eyes nervous as he typed something into the desktop in front of him.

"That's weird," he muttered a moment later, typing faster and sending Rowan a nervous glance.

"What?" he asked, trying to calm himself down with a few of the breathing techniques he'd learned over the years.

"The tapes are gone, but there's... this."

Rolland turned the screen so Rowan could see it, and all the breathing in the world couldn't keep him from slamming a fist into the side of the security shack.

The footage was gone, and on the blank black screen read: Bishop to J7.

He was going to fucking kill her.

~Aelin~

"Enjoy your taxi ride here?" she asked sweetly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs.

Rowan scowled at her as he crossed the small room inmates could use to talk to their lawyers. He yanked the chair across from her out, then threw himself into it. "You are such a pain in my ass."

She just shrugged.

He sat across from her, angry and broody, and for a long time, he just stared at her.

Finally he asked, "Why are you doing this, Aelin?"

"I told you. You locked me up for something I didn't do. I want you to be as miserable as I am. It's simple, petty revenge."

Nothing about it was simple, but that was besides the point.

He was quiet for another moment. "Why now?"

She sighed, but she wasn't upset. Truthfully, she'd been waiting for him to ask that question.

"I want to tell you a story."

He stood up suddenly, face exasperated. "I'm not fucking joking around. And I'm not going to let you waste any more of my time."

He made his way to the door, and his dismissal of her pissed her off enough to say, "Sit down, or your car's going off Whigsby Bridge."

He smiled like he'd won their little game. "So you admit you have it."

"Sure," she said casually, honestly not giving a shit about the car.

His brow furrowed. "You're giving up? Just like that?"

"You're a fucking idiot if you think this is about your car, Rowan. But sure, I admit I know exactly where it, and your bed, and your little dagger are being hidden."

He narrowed his eyes. "This conversation is being recorded, and you just admitted to being an accessory to robbery, so-"

"You aren't going to press charges," she cut him off, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it.

Nasty little prison habit she'd developed, smoking.

Or maybe she just did it because she knew he hated the smell.

"Oh, really?" he asked incredulously, eyeing the cigarette with disdain.

She grinned. "Once you sit and hear my story and realize I'm telling the truth, you're going to feel so guilty you won't even care about the car. Now sit down. I'd hate to see a classic get totaled because you're being stubborn again."

He glared at her, but came back to the table and sat down again.

Then reached over and snatched the cigarette from her lips, putting it out against the steel table top.

She just pulled out another, lighting it with one of her last matches. The irritation on his face made it worth the loss.

He waved a hand as if to say Get on with it.

She'd debated how to tell him this story for a long time. It was long, and messy and not particularly pleasant for her. But she wanted him to know the full thing, so she'd decided to start at the very beginning.

"My parents died when I was four," she began, ignoring his dramatic sigh. "I went into foster care, and as you can imagine, I was a particularly unruly child."

She smiled at the few memories she had. "I stole from the nuns, snuck out of my room at night and ran through the house, set all the clocks back an hour so we could sleep in. Small stuff. But it irritated them, because they couldn't prove it was me."

"Sounds familiar," he grouched, making her grin.

"I was adopted by Arobynn Hamel a year later."

As she'd predicted, his mouth fell open at that.

Arobynn was the known king of the underworld in Rifthold. He had a hand in every aspect of crime, yet no one could do anything about it because he never committed the crime himself.

His name was revered, so much so no one ever dared to cross him.

"But your record says-"

"That I stayed in foster care until I turned eighteen, I know."

Arobynn hated public records and had a deal with someone in the system that he'd take some of the kids off their hands if they kept quiet about it. Illegal as hell, but he wasn't someone you refused without suffering serious consequences.

It was the perfect crime. No one would miss unwanted kids, and it gave the system one less mouth to feed.

"I didn't know it, but he'd been watching me for a while. He... I don't know, saw something in me. Natural, innocent talent he could work with and turn into something different. He adopted me on my fifth birthday. And then he started training me."

"To do what?" Rowan asked, shoulders tensing.

"Everything," she answered with a shaky laugh, taking a long drag from her cigarette. "Stuff I wanted to learn, like how to pick a lock or walk without making sound. But as I got older, he taught me other stuff. Stuff I didn't want to know."

"How to kill," he finished, picking up on her tone.

She nodded, finishing her cigarette and flicking the butt on the floor.

"I was good," she told him quietly, looking down at the table. "By the time I was fifteen, he said I was the best he'd ever had. None of his other... children could beat me in a fight, not even the older ones who had a hundred pounds on me. And I could steal anything and not leave a trace."

His eyes didn't show an ounce of doubt, and she didn't know how to feel about it. But she kept going anyway.

"I was his favorite. I was his best asset, and I didn't care about anything that would compromise me. I lost my parents, and despite how much he wanted me to, I never loved him. I had no weaknesses. Except Sam."

"Another of his students?" Rowan asked, and it wasn't lost on her he said students instead of children.

She nodded. "We were adopted around the same time, grew up together. He was a year older, and whenever I had a problem, he was the one I'd turn to. He was good to me, and by the time I was seventeen, not a small part of me loved him."

Aelin broke off and took a deep breath, wishing she had another cigarette and trying to figure out how to put into words how much he'd meant to her.

"Was?" Rowan asked, so softly and quietly and understandingly that she was reminded of the man he'd once been, the one she'd loved.

Shaking her head to clear it, she said, "He made a mistake. He went on a job; he was supposed to break into one of the underground casino's owned by Arobynn's competitor and memorize the ledger, but he got caught. It was messy and horrible and stupid, and the owner wanted blood. Arobynn promised he'd kill Sam as retribution."

Rowan's eyes widened, almost like he hadn't realized how brutally she'd been raised until that moment.

"I begged him not to. Sam had saved me and helped me so many times that I couldn't not do the same for him. I told him I'd do anything."

She studied her hands, regret and guilt thick on her skin. "Arobynn said if I took ten of the jobs Sam was supposed to do, he wouldn't kill him. I thought they'd be similar to the one he'd messed up on, small break-ins or robberies. So I accepted."

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she batted it away as she continued, "The second I shook his hand, Tern--another of Arobynn's--shot Sam in the head."

Rowan's face blanched so quickly, she thought he might pass out.

He started to say something, but she spoke faster. "I... snapped. I killed Tern, tried to kill Arobynn. You called me a murderer, and that's true. I am, and I don't regret it. Tern was a sadistic bastard, and I'm glad he's dead. And one day, I'll kill Arobynn for what he did."

Rowan shook his head, confusion and shock and something similar to pity in his eyes. "Why didn't you leave, run away?"

She leveled a look at him. "I didn't exactly have a choice, Rowan. My punishment for Tern lasted for over a year."

There was a long pause.

"Punishment?" he asked in a breathless voice that made something in her chest hurt.

She looked at the table again, skin pebbling at the memory of that year. "He locked me in a cell in the basement, in the dark. Once a month he'd come in to ask if I knew someone named Sam. It took me ten months to get confused, another three to say no."

Still not meeting his eyes, she looked at his hands, noticing they were clenched so tightly the knuckles were white. And a part of her, buried under all the rage and resentment and sadness, warmed at the thought that he was... he was angry for her.

"It took me a long time after to figure out what was real and what wasn't. But Arobynn never let me forget our deal. And right before I met you, he told me the first job."

"What were the jobs?"

Aelin looked back up at that, the air thick between them as she said, "You already know."

"The murders."

She nodded, somehow managing to keep her spine straight despite the feeling of a hundred pound weight being lifted from her shoulders.

He at least knows why now, she thought to herself.

It was one of the things that had bothered her over the years. That he didn't know why she'd done what he thought she'd done. That he thought she'd.. wanted to do it.

He was silent for a long time, just watching her with a carefully emotionless face. "Thank you for telling me that," he said eventually. "I never could understand why."

Then he stood and walked to the door again, and it was only when his hand was on the handle she spoke again. "You asked why I'm doing this, and why I'm doing it now."

He opened the door but paused. Waited.

"It's because I tried to tell you this all those years ago, and you didn't care. You just assumed I was guilty because the evidence looked like it."

She spoke around the lump in her throat. "I told you I didn't kill those people, Rowan, and you didn't even care."

He spun around, slamming the door so hard it rattled, and in a split second, he was in front of her. A hand on the table, the other on her chair, he leaned down and got in her face.

He was so angry, so unbelievably enraged she couldn't believe it. He was angry?

"I didn't care? I didn't fucking care, that's what you think? Watching you get dragged away in cuffs was the worst moment of my life, and you think I didn't fucking care?"

Shock hit her like a bucket of ice water.

That moment was crystal clear in her mind, and she couldn't put what he was saying with what she knew.

He'd watched her with that same expressionless face, with cold eyes that had haunted her ever since.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he wasn't done.

"I fucked loved you! I thought you were the love of my life, Aelin. I begged you to tell me something that would help, tell me anything. But you didn't! You just kept saying you were innocent; you didn't give me anything to actually work with."

"I-"

"I found that stupid fucking list five days before I reported it, did you know that?"

She shook her head, because she hadn't.

"Exactly. You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he growled, eyes flashing. "I spent five days investigating it myself, trying to make sense of why you'd know those names. After your arrest, I spent two weeks trying to find anything, a single piece of evidence, that said it wasn't you. And after the trial, I spent another two months trying to poke holes in my own goddamn case."

He slammed a hand into the table. "I did everything I fucking could! I was desperate for it not to be you. I argued my case so your lawyer could plead circumstantial evidence. I put you on the stand so you could say anything you wanted. I went for life sentences instead of the death penalty to give you time to actually tell me what the hell was going on!"

She was breathing heavily, heart breaking and reforming over and over again at what he was saying, what he was implying.

"I didn't assume shit," he said in a low voice, so close they shared air. "You didn't tell me anything."

Aelin's voice trembled as she croaked, "I tried."

He shook his head, letting out a breath of amusement. "No, you didn't. If this past week has proven anything, it's that you don't try to do anything, you do it. You didn't tell me anything, Aelin. You're still not telling me anything."

"I'm telling you to look again! I'm telling you you didn't look hard enough, because I left breadcrumbs only you could find, breadcrumbs that explain everything."

"Stop playing games with me!" he shouted, eyes flashing with a fresh wave of anger. "It's been eight years! Stop holding onto whatever secret you're holding onto and just tell me!"

Gods, she wanted to.

He was the one person she couldn't trust with this secret, this stupid, most important secret, and yet he was the also the one person she wanted to tell it to.

She opened her mouth to tell him, but what came out was, "I didn't kill them, Rowan. I promise I didn't kill them. I can't... I can't tell you anything else."

"Jesus, Aelin," he spat, pushing off the table and turning to leave.

"Just look into it," she called after him, fingers digging into the table to resist the urge to try and follow him. "I promise you can figure everything out, and you'll understand everything. Please."

She knew why, after all this time, it was so important for him to know the truth when that hadn't been her original plan.

It was because she'd spent eight years believing he hadn't tried, believing she hadn't been a good enough person for him to even look into the possibility it wasn't her.

And maybe it was because he was once again leaving her, or maybe it was because she felt like she was in that courtroom again, begging him to believe her, or maybe it was because of something she didn't even understand yet.

Regardless of the reason, she found herself saying, "I loved you, too, you know."

He looked at her with sad eyes that she was sure mirrored her own and shook his head. "Not enough, apparently."

"You don't believe that," she argued, shaking her head and trying to keep the building emotions down.

"If you'd loved me, you would've told me. You would've given me the proof, whatever breadcrumbs you're talking about. You wouldn't have let me watch them take you away."

"Rowan-"

"You wouldn't have thought, for a second, that I didn't try to fight for you. And you sure as hell wouldn't have waited eight years to do whatever it is you're trying to do."

"I had to," she whispered, even as she knew it wouldn't be enough.

She shook with the effort to not tell him everything, but even after all he'd told her and how everything had changed, she just couldn't. Not yet.

He stood at the door, watching her with those eyes she'd once thought looked like the most beautiful emeralds. "Sometimes I think about it, you know. What life would be like if I hadn't tried to fix your sink in the middle of the night."

She smiled sadly. "Me too."

Rowan shook his head, gaze taking in her face like he thought he'd never see her again.

He thought it was over now, she realized. He thought that now she knew he hadn't given up on her immediately, now that she'd told him the story she'd wanted to tell him, that it was over and she'd give up.

"Look again," she whispered. "You know I didn't do it. It's why you're here, why you kept looking after the trial ended. You know I wouldn't."

"Goodbye, Aelin," he said instead, not telling her any of the things she really wanted to hear.

It wasn't until the door shut behind him she finally let herself cry.

She'd told herself that it didn't matter; that in a month the truth would come out and everything would be normal again.

She'd told herself she was only messing with Rowan for revenge, not because she wanted to see him again or test that he'd find the clues she'd left for him.

She'd told herself this was just a game.

She'd told herself all sorts of things that turned out to be lies.

~~~

Part 3

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my-emotional-self · 3 years

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Toxic Love Chapter 4

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing. But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story! I apologize in advance!

The three of you gathered around the kitchen island and ate the pizza. Well, more like Steve and Bucky inhaled a whole pizza each while you ate two slices. The pizza was delicious, probably the best you’d ever had and your stomach was grateful for the yumminess.

“Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself Y/N?” Bucky asked as he licked the grease off his lips.

“What do you want to know?” you replied.

“Let’s start with your family and where you grew up.”

You shrugged as you wiped your fingers with a napkin. “There isn’t really much to say. I grew up in a small town in the Midwest. Both my parents died when I was a teenager. I never knew my grandparents and I was an only child, same with my parents, so I don’t have any other family. I moved here when I was 20,” you stated honestly. Well, mostly at least. Yes, it was true both of your parents died, but how they died was tragic. They both committed suicide. First your mother, then your father one year later. As far back as you could research, mental health issues unfortunately ran in your family and that was including you. But you weren’t ready to open up that old wound yet. You were on medication to help it and that was that. Luckily the dosing you were on worked well and you could only hope you wouldn’t need to adjust your medications anytime soon.

“We know how you feel doll. Obviously all of our family is gone too. But we can make a new family with the three of us,” Bucky stated as he wrapped his metal arm around your shoulders. You liked the sound of that. The three of you becoming your own family. It sounded nice.

You gave Bucky a wide smile, mirroring his. “What have your past relationships looked like?” Steve announced from the other side of you.

This was something you had been debating on bringing up. If you weren’t going to tell them about your mental health issues just yet, you didn’t want to lie and be dishonest about John as well. Taking a deep breath, you held it in for five seconds before releasing it. “I’ve only been in one relationship before. His name was John, John Smith. He’s in prison right now.”

From the corner of your eye you could see Steve clench his fist; his knuckles cracking in the process. “What happened?” he growled out.

“He…he umm. Well, he hit me,” you said, almost as quiet as a mouse but you knew both men had super hearing and they damn well heard you.

Steve slammed his fist on the granite countertop making you flinch.

“Steve!” Bucky barked at him in anger. “You’re not making this situation any better right now. Calm the fuck down and let her talk.” Bucky soothed his arm up and down your back. “Go ahead doll. We’re listening.”

Nodding, you began to speak again. “Things were great in the beginning. He seemed like everything I could have ever asked for in a man. I didn’t know if or when I would ever meet the two of you so I decided to live my life and date him. The first six months were a whirlwind of romance. He was the most charming man I had ever met. But then things took a turn when I moved in with him. I was ready to have sex yet, but he was sick of waiting. That first night I moved in, he…he raped me.”

This time you saw Bucky’s right hand clench on the table in front of you while Steve knocked his chair over as he stood up, pacing the kitchen. “Go on doll,” Bucky urged, trying to keep the anger out of his voice as best he could for you.

“That was just the first time. He umm, he did it again for weeks. I wanted to leave, I really did. But he was rich and he had security around the house. I knew I couldn’t just up and leave. Finally, when he demanded I quit my job, I stood up to him and told him no. That was the first time he hit me. That continued for months. I was ready to give up on myself.”

“What happened next huh? How did he end up in prison?” Steve demanded as he leaned over the counter, staring at you with those piercing eyes.

“I got lucky,” you replied. “We were out shopping one day. He felt bad for the wrist he broke the night before so he took me shopping. One of the sales ladies escorted me into a fitting room and I slipped her a note letting her know what was going on. I stayed in the fitting room for as long as possible. And then I heard them. The police. The sales lady called the police for me and they took him away. He’s been locked up ever since.”

Closing your eyes, you let the tears slip down your cheek. “You were so brave,” Bucky cooed as you felt his lips on the top of your head.

“Look at me Y/N,” Steve demanded yet again and that deep feeling to please him was happening again. You snapped your head up and looked directly into his eyes. “That will never happen in this relationship. Do you understand me?” You simply nodded. “Bucky and I would never hurt you like that. Ever. You have our word.” As soon as he finished talking, he stormed out of the kitchen and down the hallway to where you only assumed was his room.

“Just give him a minute to cool off sweetheart,” Bucky spoke in your ear. “Stevie gets pent up sometimes and he has a lot on his plate. He may seem like it, but he’s not mad at you. I promise.”

You collapsed into Bucky’s chest and softy sobbed. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders and you were relieved to have told them about John. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that doll. That will never happen to you again. We won’t let anything like that happen.”

It couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes later when Steve emerged from his room. “How about we go down and show you the communal kitchen and living room. Give you a little tour. What do you say?”

A small smile broke across your face. “I’d like that very much.”

As the elevators opened to the communal floor, you jaw dropped. If you thought Steve and Bucky’s apartment was big, this was ten times the size. Not only were there ample more couches, the television was bigger and there was a large dining table big enough to sit at least twenty people.

“Holy crap,” you exclaimed in awe.

“Yeah, Tony likes to go big if you couldn’t already tell,” Steve joked.

“You think?” you quipped back, earning a smirk from Steve.

The entire space was void of anyone except the three of you as Steve pulled you further into the living room. He explained that the group tries to do a movie night at least once a week. “To make things as fair as possible, Tony pulls a name out of a hat to see who gets to pick the movie that night,” Bucky said.

“Yeah but it doesn’t really work. There is still always complaining and bitching from everyone else. Mainly Clint,” Steve chimed in.

It made you giggle, genuinely giggle and it felt good. That hadn’t happened in quite some time.

Steve and Bucky guided you towards the hallway, explaining that these were the ‘hobby rooms’ of everyone and their soulmates. Steve opened the door to the one at the end of the all on right left side.

“This will be your room. You can make it anything you want. But I’m going to guess this will be your game room where you work.”

“That would be correct,” you answered as you turned on the light. The room was very decent sized and you would have no problem fitting all of your gamer stuff in here. Hell, there would be a lot of room left over and you were quickly trying to think what else you could fit in here.

“C’mon. Let’s go back to our floor and we can show you your room up there.”

On the elevator ride back to their apartment, Steve and Bucky explained who all lived in the tower and who their soulmates were. Tony and Pepper were soulmates together, along with Bruce. Bruce was best friends with Tony and more of a brother figure to Pepper. Then there was Natasha, Clint and Darcy Lewis and they were all in an intimate relationship together. Lastly, there was Thor and Jane but they didn’t stay in the tower too much as they spent most of their time on Asgard.

Steve stopped in front of your door. It was across the hall from Bucky’s and right next door to Steve’s.

“Go ahead and open it,” Steve said with a smile. “Just place your hand over the screen.”

Taking a deep breath, you did as he said and placed your hand, palm down, on the digital screen where there would normally have been a doorknob. With a soft click, the door opened for you and you walked into your new place. It was nothing like what you were thinking. You were honestly just guessing it would be a bedroom, but no, this was an entire apartment.

Straight ahead was a decent sized kitchen. There was dark cherry wood cabinet with black granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. To the left is what you would assume would be the living room, however it was completely bare of any furniture. As you continued to move through the apartment you found that the bedroom was all the way in the back. It was a very nice sized master bedroom with the biggest walk in closet and on suite bathroom you had ever seen.

“What do you think?” Bucky asked as he came up behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“It’s big,” you replied with a chuckle.

“I’m going to have Tony’s interior designer email you. Give him examples and ideas of what you would like and she will make it happen. Don’t worry about prices. This is Tony’s gift to you.”

Your eyes grew wide at his statement. “Are you sure?”

“Yes sweetheart,” Steve replied as he slipped his hand in yours. “We want the best for you. Whatever you want this new home of yours to look like, then so be it. We will make it happen for you.”

~~~

That night as you lay in bed after spending time with Steve and Bucky, you couldn’t help but frown. Things had seemed to be going much better tonight than they did when you first met them two days ago. Now, you had to pack up your apartment and move. You weren’t really nervous about that part, hell, you were looking forward to it. But then it meant things were starting to get real. When things start to get intimate with them, would you be able to let yourself go and do that? Would things be vanilla in the bedroom? Would you be able to tell them that because the only sexual experiences you’ve ever had was being raped, that you could now only get yourself off on violent fantasies of being raped, or tied up, or choked? Fuck, what was wrong with you?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #dark!steve rogers #dark! steve rogers

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blueishblue · 3 years

Text

Chris and Ashley were on Couples Therapy Podcasts and there were some horrible stuff about PTS-Glee (their words not mine, I would say P-Glee-SD though) but also some awww moments and most of all I’m just grateful Chris is sharing tidbits about his life (even bad stuff).

You can listen to it here.

More details in the cut if you don’t have 1 hour to listen:

He talked about the crazy Klaine/CC stans and what they did to sabotage his relationship with Will. I was horrified at these because I knew Chris and Will were being harassed but I didn’t know how. Some of these things included:

Cyberbullying on Twitter

They got Will’s email and signed him to a bunch of stuff, illegal stuff even, including a cheating website for straight people and tweeted Chris about it

They shut down his blog

They emailed Will’s boss with lies about him, trying to get him fired

They sent boxes of hair to Will’s family with threatening notes

These things drove Chris nuts and that’s why he was (is) so protective of Will and their relationship. Will had to go private on all his accounts. I can’t imagine how horrified he must have been. I’m surprised Chris didn’t talk about his stalker(s) that allegedly made him move out of his first house.

Worse, the stans “never stopped” (I’m not surprised, I still see Klaine/CC stans commenting on his Insta pictures even now) but calmed down after Glee ended. Chris received lots of apology letters which surprised Ashley.

There were some cute moments between Ashley and Chris though. They talked about how they met and became fast friends on Glee set. Ashley was like a mama to baby Chris (she even joked a little about not letting him go to people’s houses and having a traumatic MeToo story and I was horrified again because Jesus is anyone safe??). And I’m just so grateful for Ashley’s existence because she made Chris’ life so much better and she gave us all the Colfer content when we were starving for them.

The host said Chris was a very guarded person and “had a hard time letting people in” and he was like Yep. Absolutely. That’s me. and I laughed because duh. He also said he didn’t talk about his struggles because he wanted to be a strong symbol for the kids. A woman tried to smack him at a movie theater (I think that’s what he said? I’m not a native speaker so please correct me if I heard things wrong) and he just said it was nothing, I received death threats and was called antichrist on the news. Like. Jesus.

There were some personal stuff about Ashley too, like how she grew up and her dating life. At one point Chris signed Ashley to Farmersonly.com and even paid for the first month’s subscription. The things rich people buy are weird.

Chris and Will get mistaken for each other all the time. Boyfriends twins is a real thing. They both stutter.

Chris is into home decoration and Ashley thinks he has great style. From what we’ve seen in his photos, I’d second that.

At the second part of the podcast they listened to the fans’ questions and gave them dating advices, and Chris told a woman who just got dumped to buy furniture. This boy and his nerdiness Is2g.

To a couple who suffered from a noisy neighbor, he suggested slipping complaint letters in different handwriting and stationaries under the neighbor’s door to make it look like lots of people complained. I swear I will fight the next person who thinks Chris/Kurt is a cinnamon roll who can do no wrong. Chris can be the pettiest person in the world, or did you forget he sent his classmate to walk in cow shit because he bullied him?

He got so confused by the last caller and what happened to the bedsheets. I couldn’t catch the full story because they spoke too fast all at once but I loved it.

Overall it was really nice to hear Chris share things about his life even though some of them were terrible. I still wish Chris would share more about his life with Will and they would be able to be all-over-your-face public about their relationship someday because we hear so little about Will (except for how crazy Chris is about him ;) ).

Oh and at the beginning he promptly forgot the word “exclude” exist and said “disclude” with his utmost confidence. Disclude. New York Times best-selling author guys. He should send like 50% of his royalties to the person who invented autocorrection because his entire writing career must rely on autocorrection and editors.

#chris colfer #couples therapy podcast #ashley fink #glee #some of the things Ashley said were disturbing #I'm so glad Chris had Ash to protect him

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sturchling · 4 years

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Can you do a damianette prompt where it is a class,Adrien, Lila salt except for chloe,nino,Alix, Kim and juleka and when Lila is revealed have her go berserk and try to kill Marinette but Damian stops her please? And if you are too busy let me know and I won’t ask you about when

Here you go! Hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

Marinette was fed up with her class. Almost everyone had fallen for Lila’s lies. Lila had managed to gain their trust since she had threatened Marinette. After that, she started planting seeds of doubt about Marinette with the class. Even Adrien, who knew that Lila was a liar, turned on Marinette. He was never cruel to her like the rest of the class, but he never stood up for her. He left her to fend for herself; he didn’t have her back like he promised. It wasn’t long before her threat became reality. Now most of the class had turned on Marinette and the friends she had left. Now, the only people who believed her were Chloe, Nino, Alix, Kim and Juleka.

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

Nino had realized that Lila was lying when Lila started saying mean things about Marinette. Nino had known Marinette since they were five and Marinette didn’t have a mean bone in her body. Marinette would never bully anyone, not even Lila. She had never gone after Chloe, and Chloe had been so cruel to her, so why would Marinette just start harassing Lila. Kim figured it out the same way, since he had also known Marinette for a really long time.

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

Alix figured it out, when Lila said she knew a really popular skater youtuber. Lila had thought it was safe to lie about them, because they kept their face hidden, and you couldn’t really tell who they were. But Lila hadn’t seen their face reveal video from a few months back. Alix decided to ask a few questions, to see if she was telling the truth, since Marinette was so insistent Lila was a liar. Alix had thought that if Lila got the questions right, then she could prove to Marinette that Lila wasn’t a liar. But instead of describing the youtuber correctly, Lila got everything wrong. Alix knew then that Lila was nothing but a liar and started hanging out with Marinette again.

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

Juleka had figured it out easily. Lila had accidently lied about Juleka herself. After the Reflekdoll incident, Juleka had kept modeling for Marinette, under the condition that she could wear a mask. The mask helped Juleka with the anxiety she felt while modeling, and Marinette was more than willing to accommodate her. Right as Lila started to try and turn everyone against Marinette, Juleka was looking at the new photos Marinette had just posted to her website. Juleka couldn’t believe how awesome they turned out. Lila saw Juleka admiring the photos and told her, “I didn’t know you were a fan of that model! I could introduce you two! We are very close, like best friends! I was the one who helped her get her career started.” Juleka just nodded her head, and Lila walked away, not realizing she had just revealed herself to Juleka.

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

Chloe had known all along. Despite what others thought of her, she wasn’t an idiot. She knew how to spot a liar. While Chloe and Marinette weren’t especially close, the two girls had called a truce. Chloe was now focused on messing with Lila. Chloe did end up apologizing to Marinette for how cruel she had been, in an effort to be more like a hero in her personal life. Chloe wouldn’t call Marinette her friend, but they did get along better now, than they ever had before.

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

About two months before, Mrs. Bustier’s class had done a pen pal project. They were each paired with a student somewhere in America. These students had registered with the pen pal organization, and could be from anywhere in America. Marinette had been partnered with Damian Wayne in Gotham. Bruce had signed Damian up for the program, hoping it might help Damian act more his age, while still being comfortable with the activity. Letter writing seemed like something Damian might enjoy, and Bruce hoped that who ever Damian was paired with would help him loosen up. Damian begrudgingly agreed to participate in this, thinking that he would loathe every minute of this asinine endeavor. However, he was very wrong about that.

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

Damian and Marinette kept talking to each other, even after the project ended. They started texting and emailing to keep in closer contact. Then they started skyping, so they could finally see each other ‘face to face’. Eventually, Damian decided that he wanted to date Marinette. But he didn’t want to ask her over text, that seemed incredibly immature. So, he planned to surprise Marinette by visiting her in France. It was hard to keep the secret from her, but soon Damian had arrived in Paris and was going to finally see his angel in person. He dropped his stuff at the hotel, and left to pick Marinette up from school. Little did he know, he would also meet the girl that had been tormenting his angel for several months. And that he would be the catalyst for Lila’s downfall.

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

Marinette was ready for the day to be done. Lila had not stopped talking yet, and kept coming up with more and more lies. Though Marinette and her friends did get a giggle out of one of her stories. Lila had been saying that she was very close with the Wayne family in Gotham for several days now. Today, she decided to raise the stakes by saying she was in a relationship with Damian. When Lila referred to Damian as ‘Damiboo’ Marinette and her friends almost died laughing. Just imagining the look on Damian’s face if he ever heard that nickname was enough to make them erupt into a new round of laughter. But of course, this drew Lila’s ire and Lila switched gears, talking about how Damian had comforted her all last night after Marinette apparently sent very mean messages to Lila. Marinette just rolled her eyes, and ignored the glares the class sent her for the rest of the morning. By lunch time Marinette was fed up, and decided to go have lunch at home to escape Lila, if only for an hour. But when she got to the steps outside, she saw Damian waiting at the top of the front staircase smiling at her.

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

“Damian!” Marinette rushed up to him and hugged him tightly. She couldn’t believe he was here! Damian chuckled, “Hello angel.” Marinette blushed a bit at the pet name and asked, “What are you doing here?” Before Damian could answer, Marinette heard the liar’s voice from behind her. “Marinette? Who is this?” Damian took a step forward, “I’m Damian and who are you?” Lila batted her eyes, apparently forgetting her supposed boyfriend, and tried flirting with Damian. “My name is Lila. It is nice to meet you. I should probably warn you; Marinette can be a bit of a bully. She has been harassing me for months. All because she is jealous of me.” Damian was furious, he automatically knew that this girl must be the liar that Marinette had vented to him about. “Why would Marinette be jealous of you. She is amazing, and already has a successful career with her designing. Regardless, Marinette isn’t that kind of person.” Damian saw the anger enter the liar’s eyes, but Lila pasted a fake smile on her face, “She is jealous of me for a lot of reasons, but one of the newest reasons is because of my boyfriend, Damian Wayne. She is mad that I have such a wonderful boyfriend, while she is alone.” With that, Lila had set in motion, the end of her lying career.

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

Damian glared at the liar, while Marinette and her friends started laughing again. Lila had just lied about Damian Wayne to Damian Wayne. This was going to be an amazing show. Lila glared at the group, wondering what they were laughing about, when Damian started speaking again. By now a small crowd, mainly made up of Mrs. Bustier’s class had gathered and heard what Damian said, “It is not possible for you to be dating Damian Wayne.” Lila grew furious, forgetting to mask her rage and snapped, “How could you possibly know who Damian Wayne is dating.” Damian smirked at the liar, “I know that, because I am Damian Wayne. I have never met you before today. But my angel here has told me a lot about you. How you lie with every breath and turned the class against her.” Lila was horrified, she could see everything crashing down around her. Grasping at anything she could to try and save her tower of lies she said, “What proof do you have that you are him. You are probably some actor that Marinette hired to make me look bad.” With out missing a beat, Damian pulled out his ID, which clearly displayed his name for the whole crowd to see. Undeniable proof that he was Damian Wayne. And Mrs. Bustier’s class began to realize that if he is Damian Wayne, and what he said was true, then Lila was nothing but a liar. Lila couldn’t believe it. She saw how the whole crowd instantly started to doubt her. She didn’t know what to do. She looked in the crowd for any friendly face, but found none. Then she heard the laughter start up again. She whipped around and saw Marinette and her friends laughing at her. Lila saw red, and she charged Marinette, intending to push her down the stairs. She wanted to hurt the designer badly.

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

How dare Marinette do this?! HOW DARE MARINETTE RUIN EVERYTHING!? Lila’s plan would have worked, if Damian hadn’t been there. Lila did manage to give Marinette a small shove, but Damian quickly wrapped an arm around Marinette to steady here, before turning to face the liar. He quickly pinned her arms behind her back and pushed Lila to the ground. Lila kept trying to get at Marinette, so she could hurt her, screaming the whole time. She called Marinette every horrible name she could think of, and kept trying to free herself from Damian’s vice like grip, but she was unsuccessful. Mr. Damocles, having heard the commotion, came out and saw the scene. After being informed of what had happened, Mr. Damocles took Lila to his office to wait for her mother to arrive. Mrs. Bustier’s class would find out later, that Lila had been expelled for assaulting another student, and that her mother had sent her back to Italy to live with her grandparents, where she could be watched much more closely.

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

Marinette was ecstatic that Lila was gone, but that wasn’t the only good thing that happened that day. When everything had calmed down, Damian finally was able to ask her out. Of course Marinette said yes! Damian stayed the next few days, and the couple were always together. But soon, it was time for Damian to return to Gotham. Before he left though, Marinette promised that she would come visit him in Gotham during the next school break. Marinette was very happy with how things turned out in the end. She has true friends, that stuck by her during the liar’s reign. And she gained a boyfriend who truly cares about her and her feelings. Marinette was very happy, and was glad things had turned out this way, even if she had to go through everything with Lila. The young couple messaged and skyped constantly. They became even closer than they were before, and loved each other dearly. Marinette was truly happy and wouldn’t change a single thing about her life.

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 4 years

Text

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter One

Master List

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x OFC Baast’Mal

Warnings: I'm making this up as a go, Canon divergent from the series during chapter 13, mild violence

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn't do it on purpose, but I'm new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I'm trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We'll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

In the sweltering heat of the jungle, Din Djarin crouched to better scan for tracks in the rotting foliage at the base of the tall trees. Pools of light made it difficult to adjust correctly for the shadowy depths; add in the thermal activity of the plants and animals in this stinking sewer of a planet, and he was having a hard time tracking his quarry.

When he'd accepted the puck, he hadn't known what he was getting into as her chain code was surprisingly sparse. The only additional information he had was her name - Taa Marel - her last known location and face.

And what a face. Even on a holo, she was stunning, not that the Mandalorian would let that sway him one way or the other.

He'd tracked the stolen ship from Bogano, where she'd initially been hiding out to this skug hole of a world that was made to torment men in beskar, causing them to swelter in their helmet.

The kid, however, loved the place.

Constantly cooing, riding in his pouch, he touched everything he could get his chubby green fingers on. Leaves, flowers, bugs; those, of course, went straight in his mouth. By this point, Mando accepted the womp rat could and would eat just about anything.

Upon arrival, they'd found the ship nose down, destroyed, and abandoned, but the crash landing had created just enough space for Mando to set the Razor Crest down. Then the hunt began.

After three hours of slogging through the heat, he was ready to kill her. After four, he decided death was too good for someone who made him sweat this hard. After five, he was determined to make her suffer. But they were closing in. He could feel it like an ache in his bones.

Tracks led forward, but something didn't sit right with that. They were too obvious. After hours of following such a well-covered trail, this was an insult to his skills. Footprints led straight down a game trail like a beacon meant to lure him astray.

It wasn't right, too easy by far, and the skin on his nape crawled.

He looked up, straight into the eyes of the woman he was hunting. Even through the distorted colour of heat vision, he could see they were a vibrant green.

He moved on instinct, whipcord shooting out, wrapping around her shoulders, and dragging her out of the tree.

She screamed the battle cry of a hunting cat, an inhuman sound before she twisted mid-air and landed lightly, crouched but on her feet.

"Taa Marel, I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold," he warned her, hand hovering over his blaster.

"That is not my name. And I choose option three."

Her voice kicked him in the groin and made his dick twitch. Stunned, he could only watch as her hands came up and nails like talons shredded his whipcord.

Someone had left a few things out of her chain code.

"Put the child down."

Mando blinked. "Why would I do that?"

What did she want with his foundling? Had she heard about him? Would she attempt to take him?

"I intend to kick your ass, Mandalorian, but I do not hurt children. Put him down."

Surprised, Mando reached for the strap across his chest instead of his blaster. "You're not going to run?"

She lifted a proud chin. "You will continue to hunt me. I would rather die than return to that hell hole, but I will not go easy. I will fight."

She was beginning to impress him with more than just her face.

Din lifted the strap over his head, his eyes fixed on the target, studying her outside of the holo he'd memorized.

She stood with her chin raised, body slightly turned in a stance that bespoke proper training. If one could call it that, her green tunic had no sleeves, crossed over her breasts, tied just beneath them, and ended a few inches thereafter, baring the wealth of sun-darkened skin over tightly packed muscles. Pants hugged slim hips, billowed at her thighs, and tied tight to her calves thanks to the soft, short boots that went to her knee.

Sweat gave her a sheen that made her glow, her vibrant eyes shadowed behind thick, long lashes. Her face was a treasure trove of sculpted brows, sharp nose, and high cheekbones over lips that looked like ripe fruit, begging for teeth.

A mass of hair, the colour of sand, fell in heavy waves to her hips. It began to darken toward the tips until it was as black as the deepest corner of space.

As he moved the kid, she untied a thin cord from her wrist and slowly began to bind her hair in a low tail.

He'd never met a woman like her, a bounty like her, ever. This one - fugitive or not - had honour in her.

The kid cooed and waved. Her lips twitched into a smile as she winked and waved back.

"Fear not, Mandalorian. Should I kill you today, I will raise your foundling as my own."

Din's blood ran cold. "You won't get the chance."

He hung the child's satchel on a low tree knot and drew the beskar spear from his back in the same motion. Though he'd won the spear from magistrate Morgan Elsbeth on Corvus and helped the Jedi Ahsoka Tano defeat her forces, the Jedi held no answers when it came to the kid. Though, Din wondered if that had more to do with him than the little green monster. She'd told him to seek another Jedi, someone with more training than she, but had given him no direction in which to search.

"He is rather cute," she smirked. "But his kind age so slowly. You will be long dead before he is grown."

Mando paused. "You know of his kind?"

She arched a brow. "You do not?"

He lowered the spear and held up his off-hand. "I am tasked with returning him to his people."

Her posture never changed, but her eyes filled with sorrow. "He has no more people. The last of his kind, or what was thought to be the last, died some years ago. Master Yoda was his name."

"I'm to help him find the Jedi," Mando murmured.

Her eyes lost their sadness. "I cannot help you."

"Will not."

"They are one and the same," she whispered.

Lightning fast, she rushed him. Mando barely blocked the first swipe of her claws before the second clanged off his pauldron. He used the spear's shaft to knock her back, even as she kicked him in the ribs, bypassing the beskar.

"Do you know the life you condemn me to, Mandalorian, if you return me to that horrible place?" she asked, crouched once again, a few feet away.

"You're a bounty. I don't make deals," he stated, watching his quarry while keeping his body between her and the kid. His ribs smarted, but he'd had worse.

"No. You just work for the people who Purged your planet!" she spat, leaping and clawing.

She was fast, damn fast. Barely able to keep up, it was all Mando could do not to lose ground until he saw an opening and swept the butt of the spear at her leg.

She jumped back, breath coming hard.

"I didn't ask who the bounty was for." Greef Karga offered him the chance for a big payday, and right now, they could use it.

"You work for the Empire," she sneered. "Returning me to torture and experimentation. Do you think I was always like this!?" She stood and held out her arms, flexing fingers tipped in dark claws. She bared her teeth, revealing wicked-looking canines, then lifted a portion of hair to reveal a sharply pointed ear.

Again he paused, a thing unheard of, to ask, "What are you?" Her chain code said human, but she was certainly not that.

Her proud chin lifted in defiance. "Do you know what a Zentari is, Mandalorian?"

Din inhaled sharply. "That's not possible. They were wiped out."

"All but one. I am Baast'mal, last of the Zentari. The Empire took me as a child and used my gift to ruin me. They bound my blood to the Corellian Sand Panther and Manka Cat. They have so thoroughly defiled my biorhythms that if the constellations were kind enough to cross my path with that of my mate, I do not know if I could bond with him." Pain flickered across her features. "I am sullied, broken. I am a monster," she whispered before shaking herself free of the melancholia and raising that proud chin once more. "So kill me if you can, Mandalorian, for I will not go willingly."

The beskar spear fell from his fingers as Din dropped to a knee and bowed his head. "I am a Child of the Watch. I must offer aid, Zentari. This is the Way."

"The Way?" She took a step back. "The Mandalorians no longer follow the Old Ways. They no longer conceal their face from all but their riduur and ad. The creed is long dead."

He shook his head. "My Tribe is one of zealots. We hold to the old ways of Mandalore. I only recently learned of this as I was raised with them in hiding. The Purge took much, but the ways of the Zentari are remembered in the covert."

She hesitated, eyes wary. "I have faced Mandalorians before. They knew not the Way."

Din stripped his gloves from his hands and held them out, palms up as if catching water. He raised them above his head and brought them down over his helmet, appearing to another as if he washed with air. "Zentari of the Bright Star, may the constellations bless this warrior with a treasure greater than beskar that they would be mine. Cyar'ika. Ka'rta. Riduur."

She inhaled sharply. He watched her fight tears, lip trembling before she closed the distance between them and knelt. She dipped her fingers into his cupped palms as if they held water, brought them to her brow and stroked them down over her eyes and out along her cheeks.

Her hands shook as she lifted them toward his helmet and laid her palms lightly on the sides of the beskar.

His hands gently grasped her wrists, her skin warm and soft beneath his fingers. She wouldn't remove it, that he was sure of, but it was an instinct he couldn't deny when someone touched his helmet.

Her voice was whisper soft when she spoke. "Mandalorian, Holder of the Creed, blessed of the constellations. May you raise warriors strong in the Way and find your riduur. Your cyar'ika. Your ka'rta."

"This is the Way," he murmured, shaken by the encounter.

"This is the Way," she agreed as she drew him forward until his helmet lightly kissed her brow.

The shudder that raced through her raced through him with equal intensity. The Zentari race was a myth, a legend, a beautiful dream. They were so lost to time Din felt like his heart would burst with joy.

"Have you ever removed your helmet, Mando?" she asked softly.

The shortened form of address made his heart skip. "Not before any living thing." The Droid on Nevarro didn't count, and no matter what Bo'Katan said, the creed was his way. He would never show his face to any besides his wife or children.

Let Koska scoff as she liked at his traditions. She had not found a Zentari. She likely wouldn't know what to do with the Zentari if she did.

Din rocked back on his toes and pushed to his feet, surprised when she followed him with equal grace. "Zentari, we should return to my ship. The Alor will want to meet you. The covert will rejoice."

"Baast."

He froze as her hands landed lightly on his beskar covered chest. "What?"

"To you, I am Baast." She stared into his visor as if able to see his eyes.

"Baast," he murmured, wishing he could speak her name without the modulator.

"Yes, Din Djarin," she smiled.

He still held her wrists, and his hands became her shackles. "How do you know that name?" he demanded.

Long lashes swept her cheeks, a coy smile curling her lips. "Grogu told me."

His grip tightened more. "Who is Grogu?"

She tilted her head to look past him at the kid cooing at them. "He is Grogu."

"You can understand him?" Din asked, his shock registering even through the modulator.

"Not in words, but he speaks to those who can listen. Images. Impressions. The Force is strong in him," she smiled at Grogu. "He loves you."

"He's okay." Mando was grateful for the helmet that hid his foolish grin.

"You fool no one," Baast chuckled. She gently twisted her wrists, reminding him of her bondage.

He let her go and stepped back to pick up the spear.

"You are a man blessed of beskar," she murmured. "You must be a great hunter."

"Something like that," he murmured. It still shamed him how he'd acquired his armour, but if he hadn't turned in the kid - Grogu - he wouldn't have been as well-equipped to get him back and keep him safe as they ran from the Empire.

Baast headed for Grogu, her smile growing as she lifted down his carrier and situated the baby against her chest. Grogu giggled and babbled something Mando didn't understand.

"Oh, I see," Baast chuckled, casting a side-eye his direction.

"What?" Mando muttered.

"Clan of the Mudhorn. A clan of two." She flicked her claws over his sigil. "I wondered. Grogu explained."

Mando glared at the kid- Grogu. "Don't tell her all my secrets."

Grogu cooed. Baast cuddled him and smiled slyly. By that look, he was pretty sure it was too late for his secrets.

He turned to go, heading back the way he'd come. It would take hours to return to the Razor Crest, and it was already getting dark.

***

They didn't make it back to the ship before nightfall, but he found a hollow tree in which to spend the dark hours. Creeper vines had choked the life out of the behemoth, leaving them in a cage of vines and dry, dead bark with a wealth of firewood to choose from.

The fire burned brightly, drafting well, casting shadows across Baast's face and keeping the larger predators at bay. She slept curled around Grogu, lips gently parted. The air had finally cooled at sundown, but now he could see the shivers and goosebumps developing on her flesh.

Slowly, he leaned forward to remove the cape from his back. Then, just as quietly, he rose, rounded the fire, and draped it over her and Grogu. She stirred but didn't wake, and Din returned to his watch on the far side of the fire.

A Zentari. He could scarce believe it.

She was a myth made flesh—a beautiful dream. Once, when Mandalore still followed the old ways, Zentarus was where many warriors sought their mates, their most cherished riduur.

A Zentari was always fast and strong and incredibly rare. They grew quickly but aged slowly, their years stretching out into eternity, some said. Fine in face and form, when they met their match, they bonded, taking on traits of the other and giving a few as well.

A Mandalorian could live a very long time with a Zentari mate.

But most Mandalorians came home empty-handed as a bond with a Zentari could not be forced, but those who the stars smiled upon, those most blessed with a cherished mate, bonded in ways that grew legends. It was said their children were the most incredible of warriors.

Baast'mal was everything he imagined when told stories of Zentari as a child new to the Tribe. It didn't hurt that she was the most mesh'la female he'd ever seen. Fast. Strong. Deadly. He wondered at what the Empire had done to her, how they could force the blood bonds on Sand Panthers and Manka cats, and just what other mutations they'd caused.

He also wondered at her Force sensitivity. What she felt or even what she could do had not been discussed, but Mando knew there was more to her than he had yet discovered.

But it was the ache in him, the growing need to once again touch her skin that concerned him.

It was primal. Feral. It clawed at him. It had him itching to be closer - much closer - to her. He wanted to show her his face and hope she found him as pleasing as he did her.

Din had nothing to go by in comparison. He'd seen his reflection before, of course, but he had no way of knowing if a woman would think him handsome. He'd had encounters before, ones in which everyone walked away satisfied, some paid for, others freely offered, but the helmet and the beskar never came off.

With her, he wanted to be bare, stripped off all trappings. Din wanted to feel his naked skin against hers. He wanted to taste it.

"You are a very loud thinker," she mumbled, bright eyes glowing softly beyond the fire.

Mortification filled him. "I'm sorry, I-"

"I do not know your thoughts, Mando," she clarified, "just feel a gentle buzzing from the beskar. It restricts what I pick up from you."

Relief almost had him sagging. Baast closed her eyes, but he was loath to let the conversation end.

"How old are you?" She looked young, maybe twenty-five.

Her brow twitched, amusement in her smile. "It is rude to ask."

"I wondered how long the Empire had you," he explained.

Shadows darkened her eyes. "Forty years."

"But they've only been around for thirty," he frowned.

She gave a hollow laugh and sat up. "They have been around much, much longer. I remember the day they came for us. They slaughtered all who fought, men and women. Every child they could catch was rounded up and taken away." She looked away, down at dark claws. "I was the only Zentari to survive the experiments."

"I'm sorry." He was. "I know what it's like to lose everything."

She tilted her head. "You were a foundling."

It wasn't a question, and Din didn't answer her.

"They began experimenting with my blood almost immediately. I was ten when they bound traits of the Manka to me. I was fifteen when they brought in the Panther."

"How? Why?"

Her eyes burned into his. "Because they could." She flexed her fingers. "Because they are depraved. Because they are monsters, who turn others into abominations."

"You're not."

She looked at him in surprise.

Din shifted until he stood and made his way around to her side, where he offered his hand. Baast took it and joined him in the shadows as he led her a few steps away from Grogu. He stripped his gloves from his hands, the need to touch her no longer under his control.

Slowly, he reached up to caress her cheek. He pushed her hair back, revealing the pointed tip of her ear. Her eyes gleamed from behind heavy lids when he stroked his fingers down her tricep and finally cupped her elbow.

He closed his opposite hand around her nape; his thumb pressed to her spiking pulse. "You are no monster."

"My blood is sullied."

"Perhaps. But you remain unbroken," he murmured. "You lived. You escaped. Mesh'la, you are a beacon of shining hope to my Tribe. If there is one Zentari, perhaps there are others."

She closed her eyes. "There is not."

"How do you know?"

A tear trickled down her cheek. "I felt the last die three years ago. It was what gave me the strength to escape."

"Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore," he murmured, rubbing his thumb on her pulse.

"Pressure makes gems; ease makes decay?" A small smile twitched her lips. "Am I a gem, Mando?"

"No."

She arched an amused brow.

"You are something more precious than any gem," he murmured.

Colour dusted her cheeks. "A Mandalorian who has a way with words? I truly have seen it all," she teased.

He sighed and made sure it echoed through the modulator. "Get some rest." He attempted to move away, but she grabbed him by the belt.

"Stay."

"Baast?"

"Stay." She took his hand, led him closer to Grogu, encouraged him to sit against a fallen chunk of tree, and then curled up beside him, tucking herself under his arm.

"The beskar is too hard," he worried.

"No harder than a prison cell, and you are much warmer. I have not known the comfort of another since I was seven," she admitted.

He sighed again but gave in, curling his arm around her.

"Thank you for your cape."

"Hm."

Her chuckle was more of a low purr. When it rippled through him, Din swore he felt something inside him purr back.

Next Chapter

#Star-Crossed #mandalorian #Mandalorian fanfiction

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ororowrites · 4 years

Text

Scripted - Yahya x Black OC

Sweet Thang- Chapter 3

One-shot: By the Open Fire

Chapters: 1 2

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,003

Two months later

Candace finished her last night at Dynasty and vowed to never return. She had collected enough money to support the remaining tuition payments, graduation fees and the application fee for Yale’s School of Drama. March had snuck upon her and her application was due in a month for the 2012-2013 school term. The process was daunting because this was the only M.F.A program she planned to apply to and she prayed this wasn’t a mistake. Yale was her dream school and though she was the type to have a plan B, C and Z, she was gambling on her resume and audition tapes.

Yahya had already made one visit to Los Angeles, since he met Candace at Dynasty. He was collecting unemployment and attending acting classes to get more experience to add to his resume. They had talked about his plan moving forward and Yahya was enjoying acting so much, he planned to apply to Yale as well. Candace had convinced him to live a little and follow his heart and talent. Even if his application was denied, he would have the experience and could apply to another program. During their acting class, Candace was surprised by Yahya’s natural talent in theatre. He deeply connected with the scripts and scenarios and she was in awe of how he could change his entire persona to fit the character. Candace wouldn’t admit it, but her attraction to Yahya was growing. Not only was he physically attractive, but his sensitivity and thoughtfulness made him appealing. He was also attracted to Candace and took his time getting to know her, while also respecting her space after her breakup.

Another acting coach was in town and Yahya made the trip to LA to attend a session with Candace. It had been two weeks since his last visit and he was eager to get into another class and spend time with his friend. They decided to meet at Candace’s apartment and ride to their class together.

“Do you think this man will make us cry on cue or what,” Candace joked, flipping on her turn signal to take the exit off the expressway.

“It’s called the Degree of Emotion, I’m sure we’re crying in this class,” Yahya chuckled, scrolling through his email for job postings. Right now, he was living off of unemployment and his savings, he would need a job sooner rather than later.

“I can’t cry on cue. It takes a bit of coaching to get me there. Hopefully this class can give me some pointers,” Candace revealed.

Dr. Ben Mayer, renowned acting coach to many in the industry and professor at Julliard, was standing in the middle of the stage when the students arrived. As they walked into the class, he recited an excerpt from the Odyssey. His heavy voice carried throughout the theatre, capturing everyone’s attention before they reached their seats. Yahya grabbed Candace’s hand, helping her down the dark theatre stairs and to the front row.

“Welcome to the Degree of Emotion. I’m Dr. Ben Mayer, your instructor for today. Please use the first two rows. Don’t be shy, I don’t bite,” the instructor ordered, pointing to the empty seats in front of the stage. “Today, I’ll be working with you on how to convey emotion with your voice, body language and expressions. Many that come into this field think showing emotion is only about crying or showing sadness onscreen or onstage. Emotion is more than that though. Anyone can be trained to cry on cue but what about that makes you feel like the character you’re portraying. Are you stepping into your character’s shoes or simply putting on a hat? Stepping into the shoes is more powerful and more fulfilling than putting on a hat. You walk in shoes and feel them out. So, I’m going to teach you how to do that.”

For the second half of the class, the group split up into groups of two and practiced different scripts. Dr. Mayer watched each group and offered criticism and advice. Candace was in Yahya’s group and they were supposed to be performing a piece about a couple who hit a rough patch. She felt good about this particular script because of her recent breakup but to her surprise, her performance fell flat for Dr. Mayer. He told her she was wearing a hat instead of stepping into Charlotte’s shoes and she had a lot to work on when it came to emotional acting.

That criticism stuck with Candace and ate at her for the remainder of the class. The second half of the course was in three weeks, where they would perform their scenes in front of their peers.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Yahya proposed as they walked to a near-by coffee shop.

“I can handle criticism. It’s being told I don’t convey emotion that bugs me. No instructor has ever said that and here I am trying to get into Yale not conveying enough fuckin’ emotion,” Candace spat between her teeth. Being a perfectionist ended up being her downfall in many things. She believed in being perfect at her crafts, which is how she ended up in extra acting classes outside of her regular theatre courses. “Are my emotions not believable, Yah?”

“That’s coming from one instructor. We all have different ways of approaching this acting thing. But if you want to work on it, I’m here for a couple of more days. We can practice. No biggie.”

“I don’t know why I’m this bothered about this shit. But I’m going to give his ass emotion next time,” she promised, tossing her curls behind her ear.

-------

Trinity was out studying with some friends, leaving the apartment free for acting practice and a late brunch. Yahya was on fruit duty, while Candace made waffles and turkey bacon.

“What do you think is holding you back,” Yahya questioned, glancing over at his acting partner who was concentrating on whisking the lumps out of her pancake mix.

“Fear of failure. I think too much when it comes to certain scenes and end up closing myself off,” she replied after a few long seconds of silence. “That’s my only explanation. After all that stuff with Maxwell, it got worse, I guess.”

“I did this class in San Fran and the instructor had us doing meditation before we got to the acting. Maybe you can try that when you have those hard scenes. It helped me because I get too into my own head at times, too,” he offered, wiping his hands on a towel. “For now.... I need you to relax.”

Once Candace felt Yahya’s strong hands on her shoulders, she could have melted into a puddle in the middle of the kitchen floor. He massaged the tense muscles and rested his chin on top of her head. She hummed in relief, leaning back into his big body.

“Instead of thinking about how you can hide Dr. Mayer’s body, think about how you can prove him wrong. Put all that anger into Charlotte because she needs you in order to come alive.”

“Okay,” Candace sighed.

“Let’s try meditation first,” he suggested, leading Candace to the living room. “Try to get you nice and relaxed before we start.”

They meditated for ten minutes before returning to the kitchen to clear up counter space.

“Ready?” Yahya nodded towards his scene partner and earned a nervous nod in response.

Charlotte and Tyreik - TAKE ONE

“You’ve changed, Ty. Changed in ways you may not realize but I see it. Hell, I feel it too. When we supposedly make love and you aren’t present...you fill me up but you feel empty,” Candace spoke, shifting her weight from hip to hip. Playing Charlotte made her nervous for some reason. Maybe it was her own fear of opening up to another man after having her heart stomped to pieces by Maxwell. Like Charlotte, she no longer wanted to be a doormat to anyone, especially the opposite sex.

“You sure you even know how to feel anymore,” Yahya replied, pretending to cut invisible vegetables on the cutting board.

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t stand here and tell me you feel a thing, Char. I’ve been trying to talk to you about our relationship for months. But you’re always busy or too tired. So yeah....I’ve changed.”

The conversation was similar to one she had with Maxwell, except the roles were reversed. Like Yahya suggested, she dug deeper to find that spark that would turn on the switch.

“Because you talk at me. Yelling isn’t talking and it won’t get my attention,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes. “And the only reason you’re even talking is because you feel guilty.”

Yahya slammed his hands against the the cold, marble countertop, causing Candace to flinch. “Are we still stuck on that shit? I apologized, you accepted, it’s done. Stop bringing up old shit to hide your own insecurities.”

“We.... then why are we pretending this is what we both want? If we’re this unhappy, why are we doing this,” she mumbled, her eyes falling down to her feet.

“I don’t know. Maybe because we’re both afraid to let go of what’s familiar to us. I’m your first love and you’re my first long time relationship. Hard to let go of something you worked hard to keep going all these years.”

Dig deep, Candace. Thinking back to how she felt about Maxwell and his unborn child, Candace’s eyes began to water. “I want this to work, Ty. I really do,” she sniffed. Yahya’s eyes met hers and he tried to stay in character but he couldn’t hide how proud he was the moment he saw his advice working for Candace.

“I do too. But you have to let go of shit if you claim you forgive me,” Yahya moved in closer, letting Candace know they were close to the kissing scene.

“I’ll try,” she offered, her big, brown orbs searching his looking for a hint of Yahya. He rarely broke character, but there was an extra gleam in his eyes. This was the first time they had done anything outside of hugging. Yahya was respecting Candace’s space and allowing her to heal after her recent breakup.

Her heart beat violently against her chest when Yahya’s cologne flooded her senses. His lips became Candace’s main focus as he closed the space between them and placed his mouth on hers. The kiss was brazen, making Candace’s knees weak. Yahya placed his hands on the counter, caging in Candace’s small frame. His 6′3 frame towered over her, forcing him to duck his head down to deepen the kiss when her tongue slid past his. Since that night at the club, he had been waiting to kiss Candace’s lips. Just as he thought, they were as soft as pillows and the urge to take things to the next level invaded his thoughts.

Heat rose to Candace’s cheeks before spreading down to her belly, meeting the butterflies that were already dancing. Their scripts were long forgotten and they were well past the point of blaming their actions on their characters. Candace’s fingers toyed with the hem of Yahya’s shirt. They were both breathless when they pulled a part and Candace didn’t give Yahya time to catch his thoughts before her lips were back on his, fighting for dominance. Yahya’s shirt ended up on the kitchen floor, exposing his sculpted but slender mid-section. It was dangerous, yet neither one of them stopped it. The sexual tension had been strong from the moment they met and given the current circumstances, it was boiling over. From the slight touches and long gazes, hormones were bound to get them in this predicament. Yahya’s lips left hers and traveled to her neck, where they stayed, creating love bites.

“Do you want me to stop,” he questioned, his baritone causing a vibration between their bodies. The thumping between her ears and thumping between her legs had Candace’s mind swimming in circles.

Sorry for the wait and short chapter. We will get A LOT more Yahya and Candace in the next one though!

taglist: @blackburnbook @emjayewrites @just-peachee @chaneajoyyy

#yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfics #yahya abdul mateen x black oc #black oc #black writers #ororo writes

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criminalminds4days · 4 years

Text

Family Matters | Chapter 7: Happy Birthday

Hello people!!

I know I just came back, but school and work are really kicking my butt. I have virtual events, classes, projects and papers... On top of that I have to go to work and I barely have enough time to sleep. I am hoping I'll be able to keep writing, and I already have some chapter written in advance but who knows how my life will be by the time we reach the end of those chapters...

Anyway, I hope you guys are having a good week and a good year so far. Enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think!

P.S. keep in mind I did not have time to proof read this, so it might be wonky.

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 5.2k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

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(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 7: Happy Birthday

It was now time to get everything set up for Reid's surprise birthday party. She was still not talking to him, but something within her didn't allow her to abandon the idea of celebrating his day of birth. She wanted so bad to stop wanting to be his friend and talk to him, be around him and hear him laugh, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

"You're gonna let us know your decision soon?" She almost fell down the chair she was on.

"Can you not scare me to death, please?"

"Well stop keeping us in suspense."

"Emily," she stepped down from the chair and used it to sit. "I didn't accept the position, in fact, I told Luke that same day. To help him with his bosses being on his ass I said I would think about it, but I'm going to email them soon to say I won't be transferring. I don't know how Garcia found out but she didn't let me explain that I wasn't even leaving. Then all of you barged in and I just thought it would be funny to let you guys believe I was gonna leave."

"And you've had us in suspense for two days?! Do you know how devastated Reid is? He probably thinks that's why you won't speak to him!"

"That's not the reason I don't talk to him, I ignore him because he's a cheater!" Her mouth closed fast after saying those words.

"What do you mean? Did he cheat at poker or something?"

"No, just forget about it."

"Tell me!"

"No necesitas saber," She said in Spanish. Telling Emily she didn't need to know.

"¿Se te olvida a caso que también hablo español?"

"Yes, I totally forgot you spoke Spanish." She placed for a little bit, deciding whether to tell her or not. "I saw Reid and JJ a couple of weeks ago and they were in a very friendly situation, to say the least."

"Were they making out or something?" She shook her head, and Emily smiled. "Listen, I honestly don't think that they have something going on."

"You didn't see what I did."

"That's true, but I am also not emotionally involved."

"I'm not emotionally involved."

"Sure you aren't." She winked, "does Hotch know you're staying?"

"He was there when I turned down the offer originally."

"That little prick, he's mentioned nothing to me!"

"To you? Interesting." Before Emily could correct herself she had already made her way to the sitting area, setting all the dishes and cups. She looked it over one more time before deciding it was good. "I have to change, I will be back in a half-hour. Everybody should be arriving by then, do you mind just checking that everything is good while I'm gone?"

"Yeah, though it seems rather interesting that you're having a birthday party for a 'cheater' don't you think?"

"It's also weird that you expected Hotch to tell you specifically, rather than the team, things like my possible transfer."

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh, but it is."

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is, now bye!" With those last words, she exited the building.

She paced her room. She had about thirty minutes before Spencer arrived and she was about ten minutes away, so she still had some time to figure out what she was going to say or do once the party began. She knew someone would tell him it was she who organized the party, and that would only raise more questions about her current behavior towards him.

"I had already planned it, and I couldn't get a reimbursement for the salon." She said to the mirror. "No, that might be too mean. How about, Whatever else is going on, I am glad you're alive. No, that's too nice." She rubbed her eyes, frustrated with her responses, and then, the best idea she would come up with came to her and she couldn't pass up the opportunity.

Would it backfire? Most likely, but that didn't mean she wasn't gonna try her best for it to not. With one final look at the mirror, she grabbed her keys and made her way to the venue. When she arrived all the cars from her co-workers were parked, except for JJ's, who out of the goodness of her heart had offered to drive the birthday boy. She wouldn't be surprised if Will didn't attend the event, because that would give them some alone time. Absorbed by this thought she almost didn't notice that almost immediately after she exited her car, JJ, Spencer and Will pulled up in their car. When she noticed them she squealed and ducked, but it had been a little too loud, as all three of them turned to her and saw as she very awkwardly tried to hide by ducking next to her car. She sighed and stood up, waving at the trio.

"Dropped a contact." She weakly explained.

"You don't use contracts, nor glasses for that matter." Spencer reminded her.

"No, but my friend does, and she left them in my car, and when I got out, I ended up dropping one."

"Well, it might be time to go in," JJ said, trying to salvage the surprise.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Spencer asked her.

"I... I didn't know I was, it was sort of a last-minute thing."

"Oh, okay." He looked at her expectantly, as if hoping she would acknowledge the date and congratulate him. That was one of the few things that contrasted his serious demeanor, those small moments in which he would just act like a child and have that twinkle in his eyes.

"Anyway, why don't I go ahead and go inside and you guys catch up later."

"No, you can stay with us. I mean, you can be my date. Today doesn't feel like the day to be the third wheel." He gave her another expectant look, hoping she would ask what made today special, or simply acknowledge she knew what day it was. "Besides, we haven't really seen much of each other lately."

"Yeah, life's crazy. Let me take a rain check on that though. I'll see you all later!" She tried to walk inside but he took her arm, preventing her from leaving.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, she's just trying to prevent you from finding out about your surprise birthday party before we get a chance to say surprise." Spoke the one and only Derek Morgan. They turned to find all of their friends at the entrance with amused smiles on their faces.

"Surprise!" They exclaimed and his eyes lit up even more, if that was possible, at the sight.

"Can you let me go now, please?" He nodded and mumbled an apology as he let go of her arm, she moved next to Emily and avoided all eye contact with everybody.

"Way to go champ, you almost ruined it." The woman jokingly whispered in her ear.

"Happy birthday Spencer!" Everybody said.

"Thank you guys, this means so much to me. I can't believe you all took the time to plan this."

"Actually, it was all-"

"Emily! This was all Emily's idea." She exclaimed before JJ could finish the sentence.

"Well, thank you so much, Emily." He said to her. She couldn't help but notice a small hint of disappointment in his tone, but she decided to not read too much into it.

"Yeah, you're welcome." This one said, shooting a glance at her friend. "How about we go inside and get some food?" Everybody cheered and they all made their way to the table that she had set up earlier.

"So my idea, huh?" She mumbled.

"Shut up Emily, you don't need to read into everything."

"I'm not reading into stuff, it's all just out in the open."

"Whatever."

The dinner had gone great, everyone seemed to be having a great time, especially the birthday boy, though something kept bugging him and she wasn't sure what it was.

"So, have you made a decision about your transfer?" He directly asked her once the conversation had died down.

"Are you asking me?"

"Is anyone else considering a transfer?"

"Touche." She instinctively looked at Emily and Hotch, who casually were sitting next to each other, 'out in the open' she immediately thought. Emily gave her a pointed look while her boss simply nodded slightly. "I'm still thinking. Luke made some really interesting points about the position."

"For example, his deep voice." Emily teased.

"A raise in salary." She countered.

"How do you even know Agent Alvez? I heard of him, but I didn't even know what he looked like before this week." Garcia questioned.

"He was a mentor, per se, when I was finishing up my courses at the academy. I ended up going on my first mission as a graduate with him and his team, I was actually going to start with them when Hotch requested me for the BAU."

Everybody seemed a little impressed by this knowledge. It was true she never really shared her stories, and it was mostly because they were filled with embarrassment, but this was work-related, so it seemed okay.

There seemed to be more questions emerging but before they could be asked, footsteps were heard at the entrance, and soon enough, Anna, Tyler, her aunt Becky (Anna's mother), and her mom walked in.

"Who in the-"

"Happy birthday to my favorite son-in-law!" Her mother cheered and before he even had a chance to stand up he was already engulfed into a hug.

"Son-in-law? Reid, is there something we need to know?" Questioned Derek.

"What are you guys doing here?" She spoke, feeling her throat dry out.

"Well, your mom told us it was Spencer's birthday and that you organized a birthday dinner for him, so we thought we would stop by and congratulate him," Anna said.

"Wait, that's your mom?!" Garcia asked.

"Is there something you two need to share with the rest of us?" This time the question came from Hotch.

She turned to the uninvited guests and gave them the fakest smile to ever exist. "Family, can I have a word with you all, outside? Now."

"Aren't you gonna introduce us to your team?" Her cousin asked, a smile playing on her lips.

"Yes, of course." She turned to Emily, begging with her eyes for help.

"Aaron, do you mind coming with me to my car. I seemed to have left something there."

"Right now?"

"Yes right now. It's important." She basically dragged him out of the venue, and she took a deep breath.

"Well, Mother, Anna, Tyler, and Aunt Becky," she signaled to the uninvited attendees. "This is my team, Penelope Garcia, SSA Morgan, SSA Jareau, and her husband detective Will, SSA Rossi, and you already know Dr. Reid. Team, this is my family."

"Pardon me if I sound rude by pointing this out, but you seem familiar," Derek mentioned.

"Well duh, we're one of the wealthiest families out there. The Blackwood family is very well known, and we've had our fair share of magazine covers." Anna said with glee.

"Blackwood? Wait, that's your last name, but you go by-"

"ANYWAY!" She interrupted JJ, "let us congratulate the birthday boy and celebrate, let's worry about titles later!" She grabbed her mother away from Spencer and placed her and the rest of her family in additional chairs that were part of the venue.

"So, how old are you turning Spencer?" Tyler asked, with a hint of annoyance.

"Thirty." The mentioned responded. Both of them stared at each other and she couldn't decide if what was happening between them was pure hatred or sexual tension.

"I thought you didn't like older men that much."

"It is of wise people to change their mind." She responded.

"I honestly feel like I am missing so much information right now," Derek said out loud.

"Same." JJ and Penelope added.

"I think I have a somewhat good idea of what's happening," Rossi said.

"Well, as a gift from me and my daughter, here are the keys to the Noire museum downtown. I personally think it would be fantastic for your children to grow up going there every weekend or something."

"Mother!" She exclaimed.

"Thank you, but I can't accept that, it is too much." Spencer intervened.

"Nonsense. You are the only son-in-law I will ever have; let my daughter and I spoil you."

"Yes Reid, let your future mother and future wife spoil you," Rossi spoke, a hint of glee in his eyes.

"Have you proposed already?!"

"No!" They both exclaimed. She had no idea how much more of this she could take.

"Okay, let me get this straight, Reid and you have been dating, and you didn't tell any of us?! How long has this been going on?"

"Well-"

"One year, and about four months, right cousin?" Anna was asking to get murdered.

"Actually, it's one year five months, and six days since we met, but we've only been together for one year three months and 4 days. Unless I confused my numbers again." He gave her a look and she fought the urge to not smile. Sure, she had to pretend they were a couple, but she was still mad at him.

"Reid getting his numbers wrong?" Will whispered.

"Yeah, because of his dyslexia," Tyler said as if it was obvious.

"Of course, his dyslexia! How could we forget Will?" JJ added. She looked completely surprised and kept glancing back between Spencer and her, but her tone was controlled, making sure the non-profilers in the room would not see through her. She couldn't help but wonder if the blonde was at all upset by the situation, after all, if she was right JJ was Spencer's girlfriend. The reminder made her frown, but she soon erased it from her face: one problem at a time.

"Well, this was grand, getting to know each other but I am sure you guys have a long drive and-"

"Don't worry cousin, we made time for the party. After all, Spencer is practically family, and you two are just so perfect for each other."

After her words, the steps of Emily and Hotch made the room go silent. He gave her a knowing look and took his previous seat as well as her friend who gave her a wink. This was going to be a disaster.

"So cousin, you guys hadn't told anybody about your relationship? Why keep it a secret?"

"The FBI has very strict policies, and both agents needed to demonstrate that their work in the field would not be affected by their relationship, and it hasn't," Aaron said, giving her a faint nod.

"Wait, but what does that mean for your transfer?" Garcia asked. Her eyes opened in shock because nothing could ever go right.

"What transfer?" Her aunt Becky questioned.

"I got offered a position with the team I did my first case with. But that's really not gonna change my relationship with Spencer. It's not like I'm leaving the country if I accept it. If anything I would spend more time in D.C."

"Interesting."

"Listen, family, I really appreciated having you here and taking the time to come and congratulate Spencer, I'm sure he's so happy that you guys could be here, but it's getting late and since all of us have to be back in the office tomorrow morning we're probably gonna call it a night soon."

"Of course darling." Her mother winked at her and Spencer as if suggesting that was not the reason the two wanted people gone.

"Before we leave though, we would love to get a picture of the two of you. It's not every day you get to celebrate your partner's birthday number thirty." The annoying blonde she had for a cousin suggested.

"Maybe another time."

"No, I think that's a great idea." Morgan chipped.

"Sure, why not?" Spencer said casually.

Was this man crazy? Did he not understand that their boss was right there and this could cost them their careers?!

She sighed and approached the brunette she placed her arms around his torso as he enveloped her in a hug, they smiled for the camera and waited a few seconds for pictures to be taken.

"Now Kiss!" Anna said and followed by that Garcia and Morgan joined her in a chorus of "kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss." The rest of the team, except for Hotch joined in, and she made sure to remember to kill Emily at her next best opportunity.

She cursed internally and turned her face, meeting his eyes for the first time in days. Sure, they had made accidental eye contact from time to time in the last few days, but she had tried her hardest to make it rare, and now she felt somewhat vulnerable. He gave her a small nod and leaned in, his lips touching hers ever so softly. It had been over two months since they had last kissed, but she could remember the taste as if it was yesterday.

A couple of minutes and cheers later they broke apart, his hand immediately reaching for hers. She tried not to wince or remove it, but it seemed like an impossible challenge.

"So cute!" The woman said, disgust in her voice. "Anyway, happy birthday Spence, here are some books that we thought you might like." She placed them on the table and attempted to walk towards him and hug him, but both she and Spencer made it clear that was not an option. There was something about her spanking him during the retreat that didn't really sit well with either of them. "You two are just made for each other, aren't you?" She commented before walking back towards her husband.

"Happy birthday Spencer, I hope the next time we see each other it's to ask me about an engagement ring." Her mother squeezed his cheeks and planted a kiss on each one to later repeat the process on her daughter. Aunt Becky simply waved and Tyler gave the couple a head nod before the four left the building.

There was a silence, she let go of his hand rather abruptly and separated herself from him a couple of inches as the rest of the team observed them. "Should I go set up the karaoke machine?" She asked as she tried to navigate the room.

"You should tell us why none of us knew the two of you were a thing," Morgan said.

"Agreed." The rest of the team said.

"Really, Emily you too?"

"That kiss made me doubt."

"Let me just make sure they're gone." She walked towards the entrance, as her mother's vehicle drove away she sighed with relief and made her way back to the table. "All right, let us get this over with."

"Why didn't you tell us you two were dating?" Penelope asked.

"Because we're not." She responded.

"Really? Then what was all that?" Morgan arched an eyebrow, clearly not impressed by her response.

"I asked Dr. Reid to pretend to be my boyfriend for a family event because my cousin kept telling me she was better than me and I was gonna end up alone because I was horrible and-" everybody observed her, the message clear. "Okay, she didn't say that exactly but the intention was clear! Anyway, because he went with me now my family thinks we're a couple and we have to pretend we are."

"That can't be it, please tell me you're lying and you two are actually in love," Penelope begged.

"Sorry, but Dr. Reid and I are simply co-workers who got caught in a big lie because of my big mouth." She shrugged, "Hotch, I promise, you have nothing to worry about."

"I know." He said, but something in his tone suggested otherwise.

"But that kiss though. It seemed more real than it should." JJ pointed out.

She looked at her, wanting to say something to hint that she knew about her and Spencer and that she knew that comment was coming from a place of jealousy, but she decided against it. She simply rolled her eyes, as if disregarding said kiss and made her way to the karaoke machine.

After everyone had moved on from the conversation and had begun cheering at those who participated by singing one or two songs, she decided to take a little break and get some air.

“If I didn’t know any better I would say you hate me or something.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Then what is it, because ignoring me and barely answering me isn’t cutting it anymore. I thought we were friends.”

“JJ, there are just some things that I can’t condone.”

“Like what?”

“Cheating.”

“I didn’t cheat, I was the first one to the office, so I grabbed the first doughnut. I am sorry if you liked chocolate glazed ones.”

“I am not talking about that! Though I am a little upset about that too!”

“Then what did I do?”

“Are you sleeping with Spencer?”

After those words came out of her mouth and JJ processed them, the blonde couldn’t help but laugh her ass off. She observed as the woman continued to laugh without a sign of stopping soon. “Me, and Spencer?” she asked between laughs, “Have you seen this?” She pointed at the ring in her hand and began to draw images with her hands as if hoping to represent that she was married, and she and Spencer were nothing but friends, she even confessed to her second pregnancy, something only Spencer knew about. But the other woman didn’t really understand, she thought everything was signaling at her avoiding to answer. “You are a funny one! Now, let’s go back inside, I will buy you a whole box of glazed doughnuts on Monday.” She managed to say as she continued to laugh, “me and Spencer? Hilarious!”

After watching her enter the venue, she waited before following suit. The whole scene seemed bizarre at best. Her confrontation had backfired and now she was back to square one on that front. On the bright side, she would be getting her chocolate glazed doughnuts so not everything was lost.

After two more hours, the venue was completely empty. Though they didn't have to go into the office the next day as she had told her mother, they all were more than happy to sleep early when given the opportunity. She had stayed behind to clean up some of the areas, hoping to make it easier for the cleaning crew the next morning.

"Do you need help with that?"

She jumped at the voice. "Jesus! What is it with you people and trying to give me a heart attack?" She said to the brunette.

"Sorry, I just wanted to help."

"Shouldn't you be heading home?"

"That's the thing, JJ and Will got a call from the nanny and they had to go. I was in the restroom, so I didn't know and they, well they left me behind." He looked really embarrassed by the situation.

Don't do it, she told herself. Don't say the words that you're thinking, she urged. "I can give you a ride home." She said despite her best efforts.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem."

She turned back to her duty and the silence that engulfed them was so awkward she almost backed out from giving him a ride home.

"What did I do?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm a profiler, you know? And I'd like to think I'm good at my job. I know you're mad at me, I just wish I knew why."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Please, I can't keep going on like this. I miss you, I miss spending time together, joking around, and just being us. I really miss it and I will do anything so we can go back to being friends."

"Dr. Reid, six months ago we weren't even friends." She pointed out.

"But four days ago we were."

"Are you sleeping with JJ?" She blurted out before she processed the words.

His face went from confusion to amusement and soon he was laughing his ass off. Great, now both of them had laughed at her.

"Me and JJ? You do know she's married, right?" He said between laughs.

"Not everyone that gets married is faithful."

"You're mad at me because you thought JJ was cheating on Will with me? Why would you even think that?"

"I saw you two at the office the other day."

"JJ asked me to be the godfather of her second child. She's pregnant. And no, it's not mine." His smile grew wider as the laughter stopped as if knowing she thought he was cheating was the best news he could receive.

"Oh." She mumbled, everything making sense. JJ’s reaction, the whole signing, and laughing. The idea seemed so foreign to both of them she couldn’t help but feel like an idiot for thinking it to be a possibility. She wanted to hide under a rock and never come out again. How could she possibly think that the two of them would do such a thing? Now that she had all the pieces the idea seemed so far-fetched she couldn't even understand what led her down that path. "I-I'm sorry, I interpreted everything wrong."

"I'm glad you did though." He said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "It gave me a really important insight."

"About what?"

"I need to tell you something." He said, and his other hand moved a strand of hair behind her ear. She couldn't help but think this was all too similar to a movie and how horrible that was, and yet how much she wished she was part of a movie in that precise moment. A part of her already knew where this was going and she felt all bubbly inside at the notion. "I like you."

"I like you too Spencer. You're my best friend." She spoke, completely shattering her internalized movie.

"No, I like you romantically. If it was up to me that kiss would have not been as short nor as innocent as it was."

"Why are you being a dumbass?" She said as she pushed his hands off her shoulders. "Quit playing, let's get you home."

He shook his head, slightly annoyed by how dense she was. "Will you please stop for a minute? I am trying to tell you about my feelings for you because I have been hiding them for days and every time I see you I want to kiss you and hold your hand. When I saw Luke and you, first I thought he was kind of hot, but then I saw him as a threat, and I was dying to punch him in the face. Because I want to be more than your best friend. I've probably wanted to be more than your friend for a really long time, but it took Emily barging into my hotel room and scaring Derek into the cafeteria for me to realize it and now I know that you must feel something for me, otherwise why on earth would you get so upset about the idea of JJ and I having an affair? So, can you please put the pieces together and come here so we can make out in the middle of a salon on my birthday like I dreamt last night?"

"You're joking, right?" She said, her heartbeat speeding up, half of her body wanting to run and the other half wanting to do exactly what Spencer had suggested. Well, it was more of an eighty percent for staying and twenty percent for running.

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"You actually like me?"

"Yes! And I'm pretty sure you like me."

"I mean, sure, you're funny and a great friend. Not to mention cute, well I guess we have to be honest here, you're hot, like really hot, but just because I see that doesn't mean I like you, does it?"

"Do you want to kiss me right now?"

"Yes! Wait, no! I mean yes! I-"

"Let me help you out a little with that." Before she could ask how Spencer had already shortened the distance between them, placing his lips on her. This was the first time they had kissed without an audience, or as a part of their fake relationship. To prove how real this was, Spencer didn't hold back. First, his hands were on her cheeks, but they slowly moved to her hair, hips, and pretty much anywhere he could find. Hers never left his hair, appreciating how soft it actually was and the fact that despite his immense love of his hair and that he despised people touching it, not once had he complained.

She thought back on her conversations with Emily, on how Reid always made her feel safe. Sitting on a couch with her head resting on his shoulder had felt so right, and the idea of losing him to JJ had made her spiral. She knew that Will's feelings were not going to be the only ones hurt if it had been true. She wanted him.

She liked him.

It was so ridiculously obvious that she had to laugh. One would think metaphorically, but since she can't ever have a good moment without ruining it, her body decided to actually laugh, interrupting what had become a heated make-out session. As she tried to stop her laughter, he looked at her, confused.

"That bad?"

"What?" She said between laughter, "no! It's not that, it's just that I am so dumb. How did I not see that I like you so fucking much?" She continued, her laugh subsiding. "Spencer Reid, will you be my real boyfriend?"

"This has to be the best birthday present ever." He smiled, “but I don’t know if I am convinced by this offer."

"How about I second it by offering a make-out session in my car, and instead of driving you to your apartment, you can stay with me tonight?"

"Yes, please!"

“Is that a deal then?”

“How could I ever say no to you.”

After what seemed like a lifetime, but also a blink of an eye, they had made their way to her apartment. His shirt was wrinkled, and both their lips were read as can be. The small hickeys that he had graciously given her were now on full display as her neck was left exposed. She opened the door and he stepped inside after her, making sure to close and lock the entrance.

“Before we go any further, I need to ask.”

“No, Spencer, I am not a virgin.” She responded with a smile.

“That’s not what I was going to ask.” She observed him, encouraging him to continue. “Are you seriously thinking of leaving the BAU to go work with that jerk?”

“First off, he’s not a jerk. You don’t need to be jealous; Luke and I are just friends. And secondly, I turned down the offer as soon as he presented it to me. I was just giving you all a hard time.”

He frowned, clearly not as amused by that knowledge as she was. “There is something you should know.”

“What is it?” Her smile faded as his expression turned to a serious and concerned one.

“I sleep on the right side of the bed.”

“But you said-“

“I know what I said, I simply didn’t want you to feel bad, so I took the left side.”

“Spencer…” They almost fell as she crashed her lips to his. For others, this simple gesture might seem like nothing but knowing he would do something just to accommodate her was somehow so amazing and heartwarming. This knowledge summed by her newfound feelings were giving her the urge to pull him to her bedroom right then and there, but sadly for her, there were still certain things that needed to be addressed. “Before I undress you, and trust me I am dying to do that, I need to request something from you.”

“Anything.”

“Stop wearing tight pants to work.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have a very nice ass, I have noticed. And recently you have decided to use dress pants that don’t let me forget about this knowledge. We need to keep our relationship secret, at least for the time being, and watching you in those pants is not gonna help me, at all.”

“On one condition.”

“Yes?”

“You need to stop wearing blue.”

“But it’s my favorite color!”

“I know, and you look really good in it, like really good. It’s not good for me.” He planted a soft kiss on her neck, and that alone would have made her agreed to pretty much anything he asked.

“Okay, yes.”

“Good, now can we please get to business.”

“Never call us having sex business again.”

“Noted, as long as this isn’t the only time we have sex.”

“As if.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #CM #fanfic

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enjennie · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1 - The Long Haul

Exodus

Chapter 2 - Here

Word count: 2k

Moon Yuri loves train rides and sitting for long durations of time, which is why the trip to Oakwood College was a blessing in disguise to the girl who hadn’t had a wink of sleep for the past few weeks because her acceptance letter happened to have lost its way in the mail and only got to her a week before admissions ended. She had approximately two weeks to submit her application, pack up and leave everything behind her. The easiest part was actually the last thing, which she did with no hesitations.

Oakwood College has been her dream school since freshmen year when she came across an ad posted on their billboard for the seniors. They offer the best courses in the country, and that wasn’t even the best thing yet: it was being away from home. Yuri’s legs felt like jelly when she read the acceptance letter. She thought for sure she hadn’t gotten in. But, miracles proved to be true and now as she sat on the train to her new school, she couldn’t help but smile to herself.

“Sorry, is this seat taken? Everywhere else is taken,” a voice disrupts her train of thoughts.

Yuri looks up to see a girl with long dark hair, her locks are clipped to the side and she wore a soft smile on her face.

“Of course,” Yuri gestured to the seat next to hers and the girl beamed before setting her things down and taking a seat. “I’m Jeong Seoyun. Are you attending Oakwood too?” the girl pointed at the school sticker Yuri had smacked onto her suitcase. She smiled, “Yeah! Nice to meet you, Seoyun. I’m Moon Yuri,”

“Sophomore?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Ditto. No one really moves during sophomore year. Well, except some. But, what’s your reason… if you don’t mind?” Seoyun had a vibe to her that Yuri couldn’t explain. She was warm, but cool at the same time. She felt like autumn. “I didn’t receive my letter last year. Oakwood contacted me two weeks ago asking why I didn’t enroll,” Yuri explained.

Seoyun looked perplexed. “You must have outstanding grades, then. Oakwoods doesn’t even respond to emails, let alone make them to personally contact people,” The two laugh and Yuri denied the compliment. In her old school, there was nothing else to focus on but studies. Which is how she managed to become the top in all her subjects, and graduated as valedictorian.

“What do you major in?” the girl relaxed her back against the seat. “Film,” Yuri answered. Seoyun nodded.

“That’s really cool. I know someone from that department. I take up nursing. Sounds boring, I know,”

“No way, that sounds awesome. I wouldn’t survive one semester in that course, though. Can’t handle blood and needles at all,” Yuri sniggered and Seoyun cracked into a smile. “Thanks. And that’s too bad, I hope you’ll be okay during vaccination day,”

“What now?”

“Vaccination day. Oakwood requires them once a year,”

Yuri looked at Seoyun with eminent fear written on her face and the girl burst into laughter. “I’m kidding! You should’ve seen your face, Moon Yuri. Hilarious,” Seoyun points at Yuri who’d taken a relieved breath.

The two spend the next two hours of the train ride talking and joking about and Yuri has never been happier to have found a new friend already.

“Which building are you in? If you’re in Beverly then we could go together since that’s where I room,” Yuri and Seoyun had gotten off the train and were now walking to the front gates of what would be called their home away from home for the next three years. “I got assigned to Athena, actually… is that far from Beverly?” Yuri pouted. She already didn’t want to be separated from her friend.

“That’s right next to Beverly!”

Yuri follows Seoyun into the large campus and they walk the path along the field and several school buildings until they finally reach their respective dorm houses. “Here’s Beverly and… over there, is your home sweet home,” Seoyun points to the similar looking building beside the one they stood in front of. The two exchange numbers and Yuri thanks Seoyun for accompanying her. She takes her bags and walks up to the now terrifying looking building. It was only scary because now, she had to face it alone.

But according to the dean, when she’d spoken to her on the phone, Yuri’s roommate wouldn’t be arriving until second semester due to some personal business. Which is why Yuri was grateful and relieved to have met Seoyun.

She carries her suitcase up the flight of stairs and looked around to look for her room. To her delight, she finds it right away, right by the stairs. Yuri took the key in her pocket and unlocked the room, revealing a fairly spacious room complete with two beds, two dressers and a closet for each person. In the middle of the room, was a door to the terrace.

She takes the bed on the right, and puts her stuff down to unpack.

Yuri was just about done unpacking when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She takes it out and reads the message she received from her dad.

Hi, pumpkin. How is college life so far?

Barely started, just moved in.

Knew you’d fit right in! Goodluck, kiddo.

Yuri rolled her eyes and scoffed at her dad’s half-assed text, throwing her phone to her bed and putting her last set of clothes into the closet and sliding the suitcase underneath her bed. Three knocks sounded from the door and Seoyun’s head pops in before Yuri could say come in.

“Hey, newbie. All settled in, I see,” Seoyun makes her way inside and Yuri spots a girl behind her. “This is Lee Minjae, my roommate,” Seoyun gestures to the stranger who had her eyes glued to her phone, typing rapidly. “Hi! Yuri, right? It’s nice to meet you,” Minjae was busy with her phone, but she shot a Yuri a small smile, which the girl returned. “Likewise, Minjae,”

“I see you took Yeeun’s old room,” Seoyun played with the curtains of the windows with her fingers before taking a seat on the edge of Yuri’s bed.

“Oh you know my roommate? The dean said she’d be here next sem,” Yuri shut her closet door and the two girls behind her exchanged looks. “The dean said that?” Minjae asked, suddenly not interested in her phone. “Yeah,” Yuri assured. “Do you know her?”

“She’s a close friend,” was all Minjae says. Yuri nods, placing her hands on either side of her hips.

“Hungry?” Seoyun deliberately changes the subject. Both Minjae and Yuri nod and the three girls pile out of the room and down the stairs, on their way to the dining hall.

The sun was just setting and you can see it from where the three girls walked. But Yuri couldn’t enjoy the view of it, when a rogue soccer ball came hurling straight at her head from out of nowhere followed by the indistinct yelling of boys, presumably the ones responsible for it.

“Omg, Yuri! Are you okay?” Seoyun and Minjae’s concerned faces is all Yuri can see from where she lie on the ground. “Don’t worry,” Yuri managed to say through the pain. “I’ll live,”

Amidst the chaos, Yuri could hear the voice of a man. “I am so sorry. Renjun’s a complete jackass and can’t play soccer for shit-“

“Don’t blame this on Renjun now,”

“Jesus, Seoyun. Sorry your boyfriend couldn’t play for shit,” the voice spoke again.

Yuri closes her eyes, trying to get her world to stop spinning, before she’s pulled up from the ground by an impressively great strength. “Wow, Seoyun you’re strong,” she commented on it, truly believing Seoyun could pull her up so easily, but she was wrong. When she opens her eyes once more, it wasn’t in fact Seoyun, but a boy with dark hair and an encaptivating smile.

“I’m not Seoyun, but thank you,” he chuckled. Yuri rubbed her temples, groaning at herself. “Sorry. I really thought-“ she can’t continue her sentence as she couldn’t help but laugh at herself.

“I’m Jeno, what’s your name?” the boy introduces himself.

“Yuri,” she responds. “My name is Yuri,”

“The name’s just as pretty as the person,” Jeno comments and Yuri feels heat rushing to her cheeks. The boy laughs, finding Yuri getting flustered an amusing sight. Behind him, another boy had come rushing in, apologizing profusely. “Are you alright? I’m really sorry, Jeno told me to just kick and I did,” the boy who Yuri guessed was named Renjun came into her view as he pushed Jeno out of the way.

“I’m fine! Don’t worry,” Yuri laughs it off, despite feeling the beating of her heart through her head, which to her knowledge, isn’t supposed to happen, but she didn’t want to be dramatic in front of these new people. Renjun gives her a smile, before turning to Seoyun behind him and placing his arms around her shoulder. “And how are you, my princess?” he cooed.

“Ugh, get a room. Come on, Yuri. You’re fine, yeah? Jeno go take your ball and leave!” Minjae scowls at the boy who raises his hand in defeat. “Yes, coach,” he joked. Jeno shoots Yuri a wink before jogging off, making sure to drag Renjun with him which left the girls to continue their disrupted plan to eat.

“Listen, Yuri. Don’t get yourself tangled up with Lee Jeno now. He’s big trouble,” Seoyun says, linking arms with Yuri who was just finishing up a juicebox. “Why not?” Yuri gulped, too shy to admit she found him a bit cute. “Trust me. He’ll make you feel like you’re on top of the world, then leave you to fall face flat to the ground once it becomes too much for him,” explained Seoyun. “That sounds awfully detailed, Seoyun,” Yuri inspected Seoyun’s face in the moonlight. She looked stunning, her long dark hair framed her features well and her lips were always curled into a smile. Yuri’s eyes flew to Minjae, who was once again glued to her phone. Her hair fell over her face, which was illuminated by the light from her phone.

“Oh shut up, Yuri. Me and Jeno? No way! I’ve just seen it happen to countless of girls,”

Yuri made sure to make a mental note of Seoyun’s advice.

The next day, Yuri was surprised to find out that she could no longer go on her social media and that the college apparently modified the Wi-Fi settings in which the students needed a certain password only given to teachers, to access any site they wanted. She discovers this when her Instagram stops loading as she had her cereal with Minjae and Seoyun.

“How about on weekends? Do they… remodify it then?” Yuri asked, desperation in her voice. Seoyun shook her head no, “Don’t worry, we got that covered,” she had a sly grin on her face. Yuri couldn’t ask any further questions as Seoyun got up to put her tray away. Minjae yawned, she barely touched her food.

“What she means is… every weekend, we go to Hyebin’s house and get our mental check there. Y’know, use the Wi-Fi and shit,” Minjae explained to the dumbfounded girl. “We’ll introduce you to Hyebin, she’s cool,”

Yuri nodded, the information still not sinking in. Probably because she didn’t have the best sleep last night. A new place and knowing the next day would be her actual first day in the college of her dreams, it made Yuri restless and toss and turn. Which is why she faced the living hell torture of trying to keep her eyes open during a 2 hour lecture on what is supposed to be her favorite subject; cinematography.

Coffee. Why didn’t I drink damn coffee? She thought to herself, and as if someone had been reading her mind, Yuri felt something warm brush up against her fingers. She opens her eyes and lift her head to see a cup of coffee. She looked beside her, and take notice of the boy she was too sleepy to acknowledge when she got in. After a few moments of Yuri just looking at him, he gets closer and whispers.

“Drink up, you look like you need it more than me,” he smiles, and his smile alone was enough to wake every fiber in Yuri’s body. She raises the cup to her lips and took a sip. And who could you be?

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floofiestboy · 4 years

Text

Haruhara Live Q/A Session via Text

Translations of past question corners:

- Question Corners #1-10

- Question Corners #11-20

- Question Corners #21-30

- Question Corners #31-40

- Question Corners #41-50

A couple days back, Haruhara asked people subscribed to his channel to send him questions via email. These are the answers.

Haruhara’s comments:

In this article, instead of a live Q/A session, I answer all the questions I got via email in text form.

Just like in an actual live session, I’ve answered the questions without carefully double-checking my notes and past chapters, so please take this as entertainment. Treat it as non-canon. Anything I haven’t explicitly talked about in canon shouldn’t be treated as such.

Senyuu has technically ended, and so now that’s it’s been over ten years, I’m even answering questions that made me think before, “If I answer this, it’ll affect how they read the main story...”!

Treat it separately from canon! These are just backstories, settings!

source: ch.nicovideo.jp/haruhara-ch/blomaga/ar1939122

Q. I love the BGM on the chapters on NicoNico, so I was wondering who composed them?

A. I don’t know either. Similarly, I don’t know who designed the logos either. But they are nice songs, aren’t they?

Q. Has Alba’s father been journeying since he was young? Did he live apart from Alba?

A. While he’s always been journeying, he came back regularly. If I compared it to a modern-day job, he’d be like a long-distance truck driver or a fisherman.

Q. Does Rchi still have her Mark of a Demon Lord? Do Rchimedes and the Second have the same mark?

A. She still has it, but since I keep on forgetting to draw it, I’ve decided it only shows up when she prays for it to appear. Rchimedes and the Second do not have it.

Q. What sort of job does Justice do in the Demon World?

A. Her job is to be cheerful. Since she’s strong, she has no problems living the way she does. Since the Demon World is still kinda a lawless land, being strong is enough to keep on living on.

Q. Are there only three Four Great Demons?

A. Yes, I just wanted to do a joke where there were a fewer (or greater) number of actual members than a title would make you think.

Q. Is the hole in the world still there?

A. To be honest, when I said that a hole had opened up in the world, what I actually wanted to say was “Something strange happened to the world.” I hadn’t thought about what the hole would be or anything. I bet a giant gate or something opened up for a moment, and monsters and stuff came over here from there. In that case, the hole would’ve closed already.

Q. Please tell me how demons age!

A. It really depends on the demon. Since demons are a race created by Rchimedes going like “Eh, whatevs”, their characteristics aren’t really consistent between each other. I think that demons have long lives because somewhere deep inside Rchimedes, he hated the idea of death and losing loved ones. Though he did play around and had demons fight each other and stuff. While on the surface level, it may have seemed like he fell into despair and raised havoc, I think he really did grieve about losing loved ones deep down.

Q. I’d like to hear more about the Loli 12 Organization and Loli Master the 5th (Master Go Rori).

A. To be honest, I just wanted to say gorori (T/N: onomatopoeia meaning ‘to lie down’). I’m sorry!

Q. Can we no longer see the BL route?!?!!?!

A. Huh?! What do you mean?! - was my first thought, but ah, I remember now. You’re talking about when I drew Ros getting jealous of Alba sleeping with Grandpa during season 2. Since you’re asking if you can no longer see it, I’m guessing you mean that you can’t? I myself have forgotten where I drew it and don’t have the file anymore.

There was a time in the past when I was super into AUs - I drew anything that hit my mind. But then I realized that readers tend to take anything the creator draws super seriously, so I stopped really doing it.

Though lately when I still really want to draw something AU, I always make sure to put a disclaimer stating “This is unrelated to canon!” before it.

(T/N: Please tell me someone has the drawing mentioned here saved somewhere I need this I beg of you.)

Q. In Senyuu Season 2, Rchi keeping information about Creasion from Alba was treated as a joke and kinda just skipped over, but now that I think about it, unless Rchi had told Alba about it, Alba would’ve basically never found out about Creasion. (Since it was pure coincidence that he ended up in the Demon World and found out about it.)

I was wondering if Rchi really intended never to tell Alba about it even though they were working at saving Ros.

If there are any such reasons, I would like to hear about how Rchi was actually planning to tell him once some more time passed, or about how she had some other reason and was really planning never to tell, etc.

A. Ros being the Demon Lord’s son isn’t directly related to saving Ros (via finding a way to free the Demon Lord.) Even if Alba found out the reason why Ros couldn’t defeat the Demon Lord, there wouldn’t have been anything he could’ve done about it. So since knowing the truth would just give Alba more to worry about, I think that Rchi decided it would be better to just stay on their journey and keep looking for information. I don’t think she had any particularly strong desire that would make her really want to tell him.

Q. In F5 Ep. 11, I loved how Alba believed in Ros so easily, and how Ros declared with a smile, “The only person I punch for no reason is you, Hero-san!” How much deeper has their bond become since their early days?

A. How much deeper... how much deeper, I wonder? I feel like bonds aren’t the kind of thing you can measure in words. But I guess, compared to their early days, Ros trusts Alba enough to still be violent towards him even though he’s begun to realize that hey, “It isn’t really good to be violent.”

Q. How do you decide on the characters’ hair and eye colours? What do you use as reference when you draw their clothing and accessories?

A. Honestly, it’s always just whatever comes to me. Aside from the first few characters, I draw new characters vaguely at the storyboard stage, then draw them in properly at the manuscripting stage. For eye colours, in Senyuu I’ve decided that “people who can’t use magic don’t have red eyes.” That’s just something I’m trying to stick to, it doesn’t mean that “Everyone with red eyes in the Senyuu universe can use magic.” Cecily can’t use magic, after all.And there’s random citizens with red eyes out there too. I feel like people’s eyes turn red when they obtain magic because Rchimedes’ feelings towards Cecily were the trigger for magic’s discovery, even in Elf and Alf’s world. Cecily is an important character even though she hasn’t done anything.

Q. Elf and Ros haven’t really gotten the chance to really talk to each other thanks to their respective situations, but now that they work at the same place, I was wondering how close you think they are to each other. If you could expand on how their thoughts and impressions towards each other since their first meeting have changed, I would be really happy.

A. Elf used to think of Ros as someone to be pitied, but nowadays he’s realized that being pitiable isn’t something a bystander should decide, so he doesn’t think that any longer. The two of them aren’t particularly close, but they do chat normally. They’re like classmates who get along pretty well at school but never hang out on the weekends.

Q. If you have any thoughts on scrapped characters like Soldier Rosicks, the Season 2 Alba with the large sword on his back, cat-eared Rchi, etc., I’d love to hear them.

A. It’s less that I “scrapped” those characters and more that I just drew their appearances while I was drawing out all sorts of ideas, so they don’t have any particular backstories or settings associated with them. I’m the type to decide on things like settings as I move the characters around on a storyboard, so when I draw simple illustrations, they’re just empty shells.

Q. I’d like to know more about what happened with the first and third year Hero Academy students after Season 3. Also, how much do Sochi and her classmates know about “Lake’s little brother”?

A. I haven’t really thought about it, so if you’d like me to think about it I’d like to have at least two days for it, but I can’t take two days to think about this question, so the answer is “I haven’t really thought about it.” I’m sorry. Sometimes I can just think up answers on the spot, but I’d feel sorry to push entire lives onto characters based on ideas I thought up on the spot. So I’d like to think about what happens to characters “after” properly. Though I’ll decide things on the spot when it comes to random mob characters and aspects I don’t care about.

Q. The reason why Alba and Salt, who both obtained enough mana to affect the world around them, were able to leave prison was because they became capable of controlling their mana, not because their knowledge reached the level of say, Ros or Elf - would that be the correct interpretation? Additionally, what level of knowledge have Alba and Salt reached by F5, considering that they were getting 0% on even simple multiplication tests before?

A. Alba was released because he became capable of a certain level of control. His level of knowledge has not reached the levels of Elf and Ros. He hasn’t caught up to them, so unlike Elf and Ros, who’d use their knowledge and little tricks to turn 100 bits of mana into 200, Alba uses the bare minimum amount of knowledge to use 500 bits of mana as only 300.

I’ve forgotten most of what I intended for Salt back them, so I apologize if I’ve given a different answer before which contradicts the one I’m about to give. Salt obtained great power, but he had no talent in keeping it within his body, so the mana was gradually released from him. I think he became so incapable of using magic that he was no longer an exceptional case, so he was eventually released.

Q. I have a question about the differences between Main Quest and the original canon. There are scenes in Main Quest that weren’t in the original canon, such as Rchi and Alba’s discussion in Part 2 Volume 4 Chapter 41, “Alba Expresses His Gratitude”, and Chapter 50, “Alba Is Stupefied”, where Mortmorte the 2nd offers to be sacrificed. I was wondering what your thoughts were when you added these extra scenes in.

A. While it isn’t as though I thought carefully about every new addition, when I drew Main Quest, my thoughts were along the lines of “Let’s go a little deeper into things.” I think that’s what I was thinking when I put in new lines. Also, typically I had a set number of pages I needed to draw for, so I think I moved around lines and expanded scenes as needed to fit the pages.

Q. I have a question about Teufel. In Season 1, Teufel only shows up in the extra chapters, but did you already intend to use him as the “Soul Manipulator” during the fight with Rchimedes in Season 2? Or was this something you decided as you got through Season 2.

A. That was something I planned from the start! If you’d like to know why Teufel appeared early, please read Filled It With My Feelings! There’s even a PDF version!

(T/N: *shills Haruhara* Filled It With My Feelings (Digital): hiaruron.booth.pm/items/2329424 Filled It With My Feelings (Physical, only available to order until midnight JST Sept. 3rd): tckc-ch.net)

Q. “The world isn’t at peace or anything! He isn’t! Meta Ros isn’t smiling!” So anyways, Meta Ros hasn’t appeared since the last episode of Senyuu+, but is he happy? Is he having fun with Meta Alba?

A. Honestly, I haven’t really thought too deeply about it since he’s just a joke character. But since he’s just a joke character, I’m sure he’s off doing his own thing somewhere, free and unrestrained by anything.

Q. Since Lym is a demon and Lake is from a thousand years ago, they don’t have last names, but does Salt have one? He is from modern times. If he does, what is it?

A. He does. I’ve also thought up names for Rchimedes the Second and his wife, but the thing is with manga is that you shouldn’t include everything you think up. It’s more interesting to the readers if you just include the information they need to know. Like how if you introduce yourself to someone in real life, you don’t tell them your whole life backstory, like- “My name is Tanaka Tarou! My father is Tanaka Katsuo. My mother is Tanaka Hanako, my grandma is-” You just tell them what they need to know, right? That makes things go more smoothly. Yeah.

So anyways, about his last name, I did think of one. Yeah. But I don’t remember where I wrote it down, and I can’t remember the name at all right now. I mean hey, even in real life, sometimes you forget people’s names when you just call them by a nickname all the time. It’s like that, etc., blah blah.

Q. Why was Ros the only one to be released from the seal even though he was sealed together with Rchiemdes? Who broke the seal?

A. Wasn’t it Elf who released the seal in order to give Alba some stimulus? Though Alba and Ros’ first meeting itself was a coincidence. Elf wanted to release Ros, or rather, the Demon Lord into Alba’s time in order to give Alba some stimulus, and to achieve that goal he teamed up with Dezember... wait, was this something I scrapped? Did I never write about it? I remember everything until Season 4 pretty well, since I drew a lot until there, but when I reached Season 4 I started feeling that sense of relief like “It’s all over~” and remember absolutely nothing...! I’d need to completely re-read Senyuu to know for sure... every, please re-read it for me! If there was something like that in canon, then I’ll go with that. If there wasn’t, then I must’ve scrapped it, or else I just had to cut back some parts that I wanted to draw.

...Now I’m starting to feel like I scrapped it after all... because I thought that having Elf doing everything wasn’t a good plot device... I don’t know...

Anyways, for now the answer to the question is “Wow, it’s really quite strange... I wonder who did it~”

Q. Foyfoy said that Ros was “a soldier from a country who doesn’t know war.” What kind of environment did Foyfoy grow up in?

A. While Foyfoy’s hometown is peaceful, Foyfoy spent time as a mercenary in wartorn countries in order to make money. It’s never been shown in canon, so it’s basically just a little backstory that was thought up at some point in the past.

Q. There’s other countries in SQ, but if there’s other countries in canon would Alba be seen as a threat?

A. There are other countries. But the King of the country that collected all those heroes is so powerful, Alba being a wonder of nature isn’t as important. If we say that Alba’s country is Japan, the neighbouring countries are on the scale of the Fukue Neighbourhood in Kurashiki City of Fukushima Prefecture.

(T/N: You can see the exact scale on Google Maps by searching “岡山県倉敷市福江”, but essentially, incredibly tiny in comparison.)

Q. Is the King’s right-hand man Maine (Minister) still working at the castle?

A. He should be. He is.

Q. Crea awakened to his magic through contact with the Mana Maker, but can he no longer use it?

A. Crea doesn’t know how to use magic so he can’t. There’s no longer a Mana Maker in his body as well. There may be some mana left behind in his body, but he has no idea how to draw it out, so he can’t use it. At the start of Season 3, he tries to make a flower bloom with magic, but fails, after all.

Q. Hasegawara and Grandpa returned to their youths - did they continue living like that?

A. Since they did technically achieve their goal, they should’ve gone back to their original lives.

Q. In The Hero of the Port City, Guilty Justice says that she came because she sensed Creasion’s mana. What was she planning to do?

A. She probably came to fight him because she sensed some rare mana. Considering canon, it’s strange for Justice to appear in a place like that, isn’t it?

Q. How is Alf and Cecily’s relationship at the moment...?

A. They don’t have one.

Q. Back in his Originia era, Crea was an orphan, so how did did he survive?

A. Back then, orphans weren’t uncommon. The villagers helped raise him - he lived a happy life.

Q. The princess from ‘Tis Time for “Torture”, Princess and Hime-chan have the same birthday and a similar hairstyle - are they related in any way?

A. The reason why their birthdays are the same is that when I went to write about the princess’ birthday, I thought, “Hm, did I decide on her birthday? Oh right, March 3rd.” and accidentally remembered it as Hime-chan’s birthday. The princess’ hairstyle is entirely Hira Kei-san’s design, I had no hand in it, but I don’t think it’s that similar to Hime-chan’s?

Q. It seems like demons have long lifespans, so does the Demon World have problems with overpopulation?

A. In order to birth a new demon, you need to have a fair amount of mana and a good amount of skill in manipulating it. Alternately, you need to meet someone who you’re really in perfect sync with. Because of that, their population doesn’t increase that much.

Q. I really really love the “three burrs” hairstyle - will Ros never wear his hair that way again?

A. That hairstyle was something done by the first hairstylist he went to after he was unsealed, so unless he goes to that exact hairstylist again, he won’t have that hairstyle.

Q. What is Dezember and Justice’s newlywed life like? Is Dezember the househusband after all?

A. Though Justice was getting things going with the wedding, Dezember ran away so their newlywed life hasn’t begun. Their dynamic is kinda like the one in Urusei Yatsura.

Q. Rchi is now over 12. How does Rudolf feel about this?

A. I thought that Rudolf was good with anyone below 13? Was it only until 10? But even if she grows past Rudolf’s age ceiling, he won’t really stop being kind to her. He would stop spoiling her so much though, in how he used to do whatever she asked with no strings asked. He would instead start saying that it’s important to try things out yourself too. That’s the only thing that would change.

Q. F5 is a regular manga, so are there any plans to release a physical volume for it?

A. Not in the slightest.

Q. Cecily and Lake were living alone together before reuniting with Ros, so how did their neighbours react to a young teenager Lake having a younger brother in his 20s?

A. Their neighbours don’t think of Ros as the younger brother - they more just think of him as Cecily’s son who came back home from afar. I think updating the family registry wouldn’t have been hard with the connections they have in the government.

Q. I would like you to tell me how Januar got into ninja and tomato farming.

A. He got into ninja because they’re cool, and he got into tomato farming because tomatoes are yummy.

Q. Elf and Alf were time travelling in Season 4 - I would like it if you made a detailed timeline of what they and other characters did. (For example, Alf erased Elf’s memories during X time, at this time Rchimedes and Creasion were doing Y, etc.)

A. When I was writing Season 4, I did make a timeline, but I’m not sure where it went... what Elf and Alf did is all written in the article before this one, “My Memos”. I don’t think things have changed much from the timeline there for Elf and Alf, so please figure things out from there!

(T/N: I’ll consider translating that article at some point... it’s a lot of text... and it’s all disjointed...

Though I guess this Q/A is also a lot of text, I’m already at 3.5k words.)

Q. In the extra chapter in Season 2, “Right Before Episode 60″, Foyfoy asks if Marl wants to come to the castle with him, but do the two of them actually live in the castle itself? Or do they live near the castle?

A. Marl does live in the castle because she thinks it’s cool to live in a castle.

Q. Why are Elf and Alf not returning to their original time (ignoring the new future timeline after their changes) and are instead working at Alba’s research center?

A. Because they look up to Alba and want to help him out.

Q. Do you have any thoughts on how Alba watches over all kinds of worlds out there?

A. I do think, “That seems rather dangerous, doesn’t it?” But I also think, “Well, it’s Alba-san, he’ll be fine.”

Q. Personally, I feel like Senyuu. has a lot of whiplash between comedic scenes and serious scenes. Is there any particular scene you drew while specifically considering this whiplash?

A. Senyuu, is a work I drew as an amateur out of sheer willpower alone, so it isn’t that it has a lot of whiplash between comedic and serious scenes - it’s just that I didn’t understand a thing. “Woo hoo! This seems fun!” was the only thing on my mind. As a bystander, you may wonder, “How can he zoom right into that corner at that speed?” while watching me cruise along in my vehicle, but in reality, you just didn’t know that I was unaware of the fact that zooming into that corner at that speed could result in death. If I wrote Senyuu. the way I am now, I think it would end up being a much tidier manga, much easier to read as well, but I doubt it’d have that same speed and power to it.

Q. I had a question about Rchimedes the First’s character design. Did you give him black and white hair because you personally thought it was really cool? And then you thought it was too cool for him so you made his clothes super lame as a compromise?

A. It was all just from powering through drawing him. I did think “Wow, his clothes are lame!” but I immediately ignored it and continued drawing.

Q. Somewhere along the line, cellphones have spread among the masses - does Ros have one? And really, who’s making them?

A. From the very start, I planned for Senyuu. to be unconstrained by the chains of fantasy and include technology. Even in the start of Season 1, there’s a picture of Ros holding a DS at one point. Since it’s a manga, I completely intend to ignore real-life technological development timelines.

Q. Ros has pretty lax shifts - six day weekends and only needing to come in from the afternoon. Does he really only go to work once a week?

A. He doesn’t even go to work once a week. He does no work but wanders over to the research center to loiter around when he feels like it.

Q. In Senyuu+, Alba seems pretty tired sometimes. Is working at the research center actually pretty bad? As in, does it require a lot of overtime?

A. It isn’t bad, Alba is just going ahead and doing the work he wants to do, then going ahead and getting all tired because of it. From the perspective of the government running it, even just having the world’s hero Alba owning a research center they manage is good enough. It would be fine even if Alba never showed up at the research center at all and never did even one iota of work. Alba is just doing his best for everyone’s sake. Lately, he rests properly.

Q. Boss seems to have accessories and clothes other than his hoodie. Does he buy all of them himself?

A. Yes, he does. I talk about this in the doujinshi Filled It With My Feelings as well!

(T/N: If you enjoyed reading any of this tidbits, please consider supporting Haruhara by purchasing the original article on his channel: ch.nicovideo.jp/haruhara-ch/blomaga/ar1939122)

#senyuu #senyu #senyuu spoilers #haruhara robinson #haruhara robinson channel #senyuu content #my translations

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occasionalfics · 4 years

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touch every star (2)

main masterlist | thor masterlist | ao3 | previous | next

Pairing: Thor X Cinderella!Reader AU

A/N: To those who are reading, thank you! I’m so glad y’all are liking this 💖 Feel free to comment and message me with thoughts if you’d like!

Warnings: Lots of angst, a really, really shitty boss, but overall this is probably the most pure fic I’ve ever written?

Words: 2,643

You’re cordially invited to Stark Industries’ Annual Christmas Extravaganza/Charity Gala. Donations optional, but appreciated.

She stared at the email, blinking mindlessly at it for at least three minutes. She’d never been invited to one of these galas before - she figured it was because she was just a secretary and couldn’t afford to make a donation for a charity gala.

But this year, she was on the list. She checked the addresses and CCs and, yup, this email had been personally sent to her. Personally - but most likely from an automated system. Still, hers was the only email listed to be sent to. Someone had put her email in there on purpose (or maybe an accident, but still...she was invited).

She wondered what she’d wear. She didn’t have anything black tie, didn’t have time or money to go shopping. Maybe Nat would have something. Or Wanda, but more than likely, Nat.

She couldn’t go, though. Could she? A secretary from the Accounting offices? Did she mean anything? Enough to be invited to the holiday gala?

Apparently, yes. She knew Nat and Wanda would insist on her going. Her two best friends were kind of like her fairy godmothers. They watched out for her whenever she needed them, encouraged her whenever she felt unsure or insecure, and promised to help her wherever they could. She’d done the same for them, but she was far less well off than they were.

After all, Nat was literally a model and Wanda was making a name for herself as a successful up and coming photographer. Y/N was just a secretary.

As if to remind her of that fact, Jasper Sitwell was suddenly standing in front of her desk. He cleared his throat and glared down at her, one eyebrow raised over the thick rim of his glasses.

“Are you going to sit there motionless all day or are you going to get to work?” he asked.

Man, she hated him. But he’d drilled into her head that he could ruin her with a simple few words. He’d told her nothing if not that he was in charge of her while she was on the clock, and if she didn’t do everything he asked, she’d be out on the street before she could make it to the lobby.

She moved immediately, picking up the papers from the night before to sort through them. “Sorry, Mr. Sitwell,” she muttered, starting piles across her desk for different people throughout the office.

“I saw you stayed late last night,” he said, a little less abrasive but just as cool. “Got everything done?”

She nodded. “Yes, Mr. Sitwell.”

“Good.” She looked up at him in time to see him pull out two sheets of paper, which he placed in her inbound box on the corner of her desk. “I want all of this finished on time today.” With that, he walked into his office without so much as a second glance.

She sighed. The list from yesterday had been one page, single spaced, and it had still taken her almost twelve hours to complete. She’d skipped taking a lunch break and ate while she’d worked, too.

She could only imagine how long this list would take. But first, she still had to sort through the papers from last night and deliver them correctly.

---

Thor had taken bits of pieces of his conversation with Frigga to heart. Just the parts that weren’t directly set up to make him feel guilty for having a high-energy, fast-paced job.

He knew he had to take care of himself. Better care, anyway. He knew he couldn’t sustain twelve and thirteen-hour workdays forever. And, as annoying as Frigga’s nagging about him starting a family was, he did want to start a family.

He wanted a partner he could come home to, in all senses of the word. Someone kind and generous, that he could care for as much as they cared for him. A true partner. As much as he respected his parents’ relationship, he didn’t want what they had. He wanted something better.

And as he thought on that, his mind drifted to the girl from last night. It was silly of him to imagine her in that spot, given he literally didn’t even know her name, but he couldn’t help himself. Thor’d always been something of a Romantic - even in his college Frat years, he’d imagined a future with a real human, whereas most of his Brothers just wanted easy lays and Trophy Wives.

Loki had always poked his side for stuff like that. But Loki was Loki, and it was hard to know exactly what his idea of a perfect home might be one day.

Thor was thinking of that girl when Tony Stark himself made an appearance in his office. Normally, Tony called people to him, not the other way around, but they both knew Thor was a special circumstance. They were part of a little group of directors and executives - friends, really - so it wasn’t so much of a surprise to Thor that Tony was interrupting his daydream with a pristine white envelope.

“Most people got invites through their email, so appreciate my efforts to come down here. But this year, thanks to Steve, everyone is invited.”

Thor smiled and took the envelope, and despite knowing what was inside, opened it. The annual holiday gala was always a charity event, so usually it was their little group and the board of directors mingling with some celebrities and the like. People with lots of money. Not because Tony didn’t appreciate every one of his employees, really, though Thor didn’t know why this was the first year everyone in the company was included.

“I think that’s a good thing,” Thor said. “Steve’s got some good ideas, you know.”

Tony completely ignored that. He perched himself on one of the chairs facing Thor’s desk and, in his cool and unaffected tone, asked, “So you gonna bring someone? It’s a masquerade this year, you know. Gotta bring a hot date and lose her in the crowd or...some such nonsense.”

He laughed at that, but shook his head. “You know I’m not seeing anyone this year.”

“Oh good because, with so many new people there, you’ll be just single enough to pick someone up.”

“You’re as bad as my mother,” Thor said. “Did you know that?”

Tony gave him one of those half-smiles, like he’d expected Thor to say as much. “You’re not the first to say so, believe it or not. That I sound like your mother.”

They laughed together, and it took Thor a moment to realize how long it’d been since he’d seen his friends. Too long. They were all busy people but they all worked at the same company, for the same man who was in their group and sitting directly across from him at that very moment.

A gala would be nice. And maybe Tony was right.

After all, if everyone was invited, maybe Elevator Girl would show up. The only problem was that he didn’t know anything about her except that she worked on his floor and that he could recall what she looked like. A mask - kind of required for a masquerade - would make it that much harder for him to find her.

Tony sighed. “Anyway. I’m sure you’re busy - what’d you call it? - ‘protecting our asses’ and all, so I’ll leave you to it. Maybe one day this week we’ll do lunch.” His eyebrows rose expectantly, and Thor hesitantly nodded.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll have my people call your people.”

And with that, he was gone.

---

She managed to finish before six, but well after five. The list was complete - thankfully, most of the tasks Sitwell had left were short or easy to do - and the office was empty, so she sighed and slipped her heels off. The blisters were worse today, but she’d thought ahead and brought a pair of plain flats to change into for the walk/ride home.

As she came up to the elevator, she couldn’t help but look from one end of the hall to the other. There were more people around than the night before, but not the man she was looking for.

The man from last night.

Y/N knew she shouldn’t be thinking about him. She didn’t know anything about him, other than he took the elevator from her floor. Once.

But he’d been nice last night, and he hadn’t done anything at all to warrant her running. If anything, she wanted to be able to apologize for scampering away like a deer in headlights because it hadn’t been polite. Even if she didn’t owe him an explanation, she wanted the chance to give one anyway.

He didn’t show, though. She figured he’d already gone home or something, because the elevator doors opened and no one stepped out onto her floor or anything. The four people already on the elevator looked at her expectantly, so she got on and turned to face the doors without a word.

No one attempted conversation. Hardly anyone moved. Two more people squeezed in before they hit the lobby, then everyone rushed out and onto the street.

Her ride home was just as lonely. No one on MTA ever stopped to talk, except the buskers and musicians that, at least tonight, avoided her car.

She shouldn’t have taken it personally. No one ever talked to her on the subway because it was New York - everyone kept to themselves and that was how the city worked. She’d never thought twice about it, but something about missing that man - the dashingly handsome man she’d spent all of ten minutes with tops - made her feel heavy as she stepped up onto the street again.

She bit her tongue as she turned a corner to head up her block. She wasn’t going to cry. She couldn’t. It was stupid to cry over nothing like this. If she were upset about Sitwell or something, she’d let herself do it, but right now she was sad about...nothing at all. A missed opportunity.

She knew what would make her feel better. Her mind drifted to the email from this morning. Maybe it was silly, but the reminder of that invitation did make her feel better. Had her walking taller, shoulders back, teeth biting into her bottom lip to keep from smiling.

Oh, she wanted to go to the gala. Donation or no, she was determined. Maybe she’d meet the man from the elevator again, or maybe she’d met the Tony Stark. She’d read the email back six times over the day, so she knew full well that it was a masquerade, but she was still excited.

So excited that Nat could tell something was up the second she stepped through the door. And Nat, being relentless and stubborn, managed to convince Y/N to sit on the couch and spill all the details she had in absolutely no time.

“Holy shit,” Nat said when she’d finished. “You never get invited to Stark parties!”

“I mean, I’m not on the board or an heiress or anything so I get it,” she responded, shrugging. “Some of my coworkers think it’s basically an open invitation this year.”

“And it’s a masquerade!” Nat practically squealed, which made Y/N even more excited than she already had been.

Y/N nodded, the tiniest bit of embarrassment seeping into her joy. She cleared her throat before she said, “I, uh. Kinda need help finding something to wear.”

Nat stood up so quickly she nearly toppled over. But she was lithe and graceful - a former dancer - so she caught herself quickly and turned toward her bedroom.

“Where’re you going?” Y/N asked, trying to follow with her eyes.

“Getting my bag and shoes - we’re going shopping!”

Wanda appeared at that. She asked what all the noise was about, and before Y/N could even attempt to resist or refuse, Nat was back and informed her of everything. Between the two of them, Y/N knew there was no way she’d get out of this.

Nat texted someone as she headed for the door. She sent the message, then looked up at Y/N with a smirk and nodded for Wanda to join them.

“Where’re you going?” Y/N asked.

“We,” Nat answered. “And it’s not even eight. Most stores are still open, but I’ve got an in at one in particular.”

---

“I don’t know,” she murmured, moving the skirt around. “It seems like a lot.”

“Babe, you’re going to a black tie charity gala,” Wanda said. “It’s all gonna be a lot.”

She looked at her reflection and sighed for the millionth time. The dress was gorgeous, she couldn’t deny it. Deep cut and embellished, the soft material flowed around her in light floral patterns and it all made her feel…

Well, she knew what she should feel. She should see her reflection and think Princess, but that had never described her. Nat and Wanda were the only ones in her life that looked at her and saw more than she did, so it didn’t surprise her that they liked the dress.

And she liked it, too. Loved it, actually. The dress itself was amazing, but on her… She couldn’t help but think she was dragging it down. Or, as a consultant on Say Yes to the Dress might say, the dress was wearing her, not the other way around.

“You look hot,” Nat said, standing to walk around the stool Y/N was perched on. “This color is perfect for your skin tone and I have a headband that would go so well.”

“I need a mask,” she responded. She said it like...like it was an excuse not to buy this dress. As if a mask couldn’t be found or made to match it.

Her friends, however, were not going to let her leave empty handed. And they both loved this dress. The last two had gotten nods of approval, but not like this. Not warranting both Nat and Wanda standing at her sides, watching the mirror with her, both moving the skirt around with smiles.

“I’ll take care of the mask,” Wanda said. “You should get this dress.”

“I’m only gonna wear it once-”

“Or we can find you another event to wear it to. Or one of us will wear it next.”

“Exactly,” Nat said. “So, really, what’re you scared of?”

“The price-”

“We’ll help.” Wanda smiled softly, and before Y/N could attempt to deny the offer, she held a hand up. “We want to help. Besides, if we put in some money that gives us more incentive to want to wear the dress so we can all get a use out of it, right?”

“It’s too nice for me.”

“That’s just a blatant lie,” Nat said. “Y/N, you look fucking amazing. We should all get this dress. You’ll just be the first one to wear it.”

She did have to admit to herself that that sounded...fair. Maybe not conventional, but fair. Fair enough that she could hold herself a little higher, stretch her neck a little longer and really see what her friends were seeing. Once she stopped questioning whether she was worthy of such a dress and just enjoyed being in it, she could see herself walking into the gala in it, the hem flowing around her heels as all eyes turned on her. No one would know who she was unless they worked with her, and even then, she’d be wearing a mask.

She’d look mysterious. Pretty. Sexy, even.

Like Nat, who’d have to have the dress taken in a little after Y/N and Wanda wore it, but she probably knew people for that, too.

“So?” Wanda asked.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

#thor fanfic #touch every star fic #touch every star #cinderella au #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader

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creek-cryptid-deluxe · 3 years

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So, It’s been awhile. There’s a reason. The last week or so has been... a week. jesus christ. I shall regale you of my tale, not in chronological order necessarily because that’s how I roll. BUT if you suffer through it, you shall be rewarded with an outdoor plant update post after. Bribery.

So. Early last week, The Spawn sat down with me and presented a proposal, a well researched proposal, advocating for her starting her own residential cleaning business because she finds it incredibly satisfying and relaxing to clean stuff and she does quite well. So we sat and brainstormed, researched, and talked about how she planned to advertise. She needed a business gmail (and all the tools that come with that), logo, business social media, website, and flyers.

Being her age, she doesn’t have the skill or knowledge to do these things. So, I volunteered to help with these things so that she didn’t have to spend money hiring someone. I created the email account, put all the brainstorm stuff into a google doc that saved to the biz drive, which included a to do list and the basic info needed. I created a logo. (At which point, she called me a wizard while watching me do so.) I helped her try to create a biz facebook account, but facebook immediately flagged it as breaking the rules. like literally as soon as I created it. So I appealed it & The Spawn wanted to wait to see what came of that before I went further. So she took me with her to shop for the things on her supply list, and we decided to go grab some of the smaller stuff still needed for J’s appt at the same time. This was Friday.

Saturday, I got a text from J in the early afternoon saying that he needed me. I quickly packed a ‘just in case’ bag, since I didn’t know what to expect or how long I would be there. Now, you have to understand that in the 7 years we’ve been friends, while he has discussed things with me via phone or text, in person he is like me, incredibly stoic. Hell even via text or phone, he always insists that he’s fine and responds to my reminders that i’m here if he needs someone, and to just let me know, he responds “I appreciate it, but I won’t”. So him reaching out like that is a MASSIVE thing. I showed up, let myself in, and he just walked up to me, wrapped his arms around me and started sobbing. I stayed the night, alternating between being comforting and being distracting. It was extremely disarming to see such raw emotion from him repeatedly over the course of the night and to hear him say the things that he is usually uncomfortable articulating.

The next morning he seemed better, thanked me for coming (to which I responded “Of course I came. I’ve not ever been lying when I’ve said that I’d come if you needed me, day or night, but you have to let me know.”) and apologized for ‘being a mess’. I told him every time he apologized (which happened quite a bit over the course of the night) that there was no need for an apology because this wasn’t something to be sorry for. He was struggling, as people do, and rather than embrace the darkness or fight it alone, he asked for help from someone he trusts and loves that he knows reciprocates. That i know how hard it is for him to do that and that I am proud of him.

Sunday afternoon the kids (The Spawn and The Bf) picked me up because she needed to take him home but didn’t want to leave the dogs alone. I got in the car after The Bf got into the back, insisting I take the front seat. We hadn’t even gotten out of the parking lot of the apartment complex when The Spawn casually asked “So are ya’ll fucking?”

that’s how I learned that I was the subject of a bet. Apparently, The Bf asked where I was when he came over and out of convenience, not wanting to really explain the relationship, The Spawn said I was at my boyfriend’s. I guess he went on about how how come I’m never hanging out with him, etc, so The Spawn explained the actual nature of our relationship. At the end The Bf said “Nah, they fuckin’ but your mom isn’t telling you.” The Spawn said, “No, she’d tell me because when I started high school I asked her about her past encounters and asked about what stuff was, if she’d done it, and if she enjoyed it, and she was always honest with me. That’s how I know she likes it up the butt.” He insisted that J and I were banging so The Spawn, knowing the truth, took advantage of this and made a bet. It was an easy win for her. SO...

I get asked this question & I look at her, eyebrows raised because she knows how our relationship is (granted if I were physically able and he was willing, I would definitely jump back up on that horse) and said, “No. Mom is no longer physically capable of fucking without risk of severe injury. Plus, despite having ridden that horse previously, I’m not into endangering our besties status. I would go into further detail and commentary but I don’t want to make The Bf uncomfortable. These are things you know, so why do you ask?” She told me of the bet, Then i promptly text J about it because I knew he’d get a laugh out of it. And I was right.

By the end of Sunday, she recieved an email stating that facebook was upholding the ban, so she and I talked and decided to make a webpage via WIX and after getting a few clients, she could upgrade her account with them to get extras that are offered, including her own domain (rather than the name.wix address) and a lack of wix ads on her page. And then it all went downhill from there.

Monday through Wednesday (yesterday) had The Spawn breathing down my neck more than any boss I’ve ever fucking had about when her business shit would be done. On top of what I’d already done, between Monday and Wednesday I: set up her google voice account for a business number, wrote her a “first time client” script, created a google sheets quick reference client database, created a google forms for detailed client records (all in a folder together that is searchable by client name, which would be the title of the form), set up the calendar, downloaded and edited/collaged her before and after photos she took via cleaning some of our spaces, and built her a 7 page website including the photos, facts, and little blurbs that go along with it. It went live at the end of yesterday.

Throughout this process, rather than just checking in and thanking me for doing it all to save her money, she asked me every couple hours what still needed to be done. When I was not as far along as she felt I should be, she got progressively more hostile. Yesterday morning she had the balls to text me “What all do we still need to do before I can get rolling?” I responded with “ ‘We’? hahahahaha *I* still need to [list].”

I’m sure you’re saying to yourself, “Am I missing something? Did you forget to list something in the list of stuff you did between Monday and Wednesday? You mentioned flyers....” You are correct. But yesterday while I was being driven to my 2nd vax appointment by my father, I basically told him that I’m fried. If a flyer just included facts, I’d be fine, but the part where I need the potential customers to be drawn in and want to learn more is not happening. The creative well has run dry to the point that it is reminiscent of the dust bowl. And I reminded him that there is a reason I no longer do this type of shit for a living. I mentioned that thinking about The Spawn’s company is making me stress puke and that any time The Spawn approaches me to talk about anything, I immediately feel incredibly nauseated.

Now it should be noted that when I mentioned this in a multi paragraph text earlier, he responded with “Just take a step back from it for awhile, then go back to it.”

and everyone wonders why on earth I don’t speak up when I hit my limits and why I just push onward despite the damage it does to me. THIS. THIS IS WHY. Everyone is all for me not pushing myself too hard... until it is inconvenient for them. So I basically screamed in the car. On the way back he said he’d help. Ok. cool.

Except that every fucking idea he had legit just tripled the amount of work I was going to have to do. I mentioned being burned enough that I was considering just paying a freelancer to do it. This motherfucker chimes in with “Oh! [Cool Ex Employee Who Left to be a Stay at Home Mom with her First Baby] does stuff like that. Let me reach out to see if she’d be willing to.” BRUH. That should have been the first thing out of your mouth after my original texts! Jesus Christ. I agreed but with the caveat that HE had to tell The Spawn and say it was his idea because he sees me getting overly stressed and has put his foot down. And he had to do it that night because I knew that if he didn’t, the first thing I’d hear today was “So when are my flyers going to be done?” and I am absolutely not dealing with that shit. The only thing I am doing from this point forward is showing her how to use her database/client files/calendar and I will be happy to answer questions or give advice, but that’s it. This isn’t my company and I’m not employed by her, so I’ve already put in far more work than should have been expected of me, with very little thanks outside of after I finished her logo and a couple times she came down and watched, then told me I’m a fucking wizard.

Really It was good in a way because I had been doing that thing lately where I wonder if I’m just being dramatic because admin type stuff isn’t that hard and if I could do it from home, I should be able to manage... but this put me back down on earth, where I absolutely am not being dramatic and I cannot fucking do that shit 40 hrs a week for some random asshole. Shit, this was for my own child and I was ready to give up, stab her, then tell her to go fuck herself.

so...that’s been my last week and a half for so. Also, my only side effects from Vax 2 (pfizer) is feeling more tired/run down than usual and a bit of extra joint pain... but those might actually be related to the stress and hell I just went through. who knows.

as always, don’t steal my shitshow. get your own shitshow. suffer through your own crap.

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shannonbussberg · 3 years

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Shannon Marie Bussberg is a psychopath who caused me great harm in many ways. I'm writing this as an explanation to warn off any who come in contact with her. I'm not trying to exact vengeance on her. The only thing I want from her is the money that she stole from me. A sincere and deep apology, of course, would be nice, but she would never do that. The first part of the writing below largely comprises something that I sent to Shannon recently, and the rest is addressed to you, the reader. Please keep an open mind.

***

(Note: I sent an earlier version of this writing to Shannon, hoping that she would make restitution. She said that she wouldn't, and that she came here to live with me to help me with my depression. Complete BS. Shouldered no blame at all.

Shannon,

As you know, you stole, through forgeries, all the money I had, and you put me in deep shit, not to mention throwing me into tons of debt from all the credit cards you took out in my name. I was in trouble with the IRS over the documents you forged, my credit was nonexistent, and I was psychologically destroyed. You put me in a space that I would never trust anyone ever again. You know all that you did to me, and you never tried anything to make it right.

Although you cost me so, so much pain and suffering, I’m willing to let most of that go financially. But I want recompense for the money you stole and the inflation on that money. Also the damage caused to my teeth when I was unable to afford repairs because of your thefts. Steve might lend you the money--he helped you out financially when you got in trouble for taking money from credit cards under my sister's name. So maybe he'll do that for you now.

(You know, you used to tell me that you're going to Hell. I of course assumed that you were exaggerating. Now I wonder what all other things you're done. An aside: you used to tell me that you would never pay back your student loans, and that as a result you'd have to go to school periodically for the rest of your life to avoid paying the loans back. That did bother me, because it basically meant that you'd be stealing from other students in the future. More recently I saw that you'd somehow got a master's degree. That seemed strange, since you're not a good student--having me do as much as your school and work stuff for you as possible when you were here. So I assumed that you got the degree from online courses, as part of your loan payback avoidance plan. Sure enough I see that your school has optional online coursework.)

If you don’t try to make things right, here’s what I will do. First off, I’ll tell the truth to your whole family. (It was so horrible to have to listen to your mother try to “explain” to me that you were living with me in order to try to “help” me--a lie you told your parents in order to cover the long period while you were not working, while living on the stolen money. Apparently you told her that you were my caretaker of some sort. I'm definitely going to set her straight on that.) My story will be a complete one, and you know that I don't lie. Plus I have *tons* of documents to back me up—everything from police and post office documents, to the forensic document examination report, to copies of the actual documents that you forged. (Plus I became something of a document examiner myself, so that people could see with their own eyes that you’re a forger. For example, doing your school years, you changed the way you form a particular letter--for example, in the forged signature for my last name--in a way that is nearly completely unique in this day and age. And the documents you created have all the hallmarks that document examiners know about forgeries.)

But I will use the internet as well. Social media of all kinds, of course. Forums, relevant sites. Anyplace I can find, with, as before, documents that back me up. People need to know who they’re dealing with in their lives.

***

To the reader: Shannon Marie Bussberg and I live in different states, and met online through a kinky match site. For a long while, we communicated with email and text. Then she told me that she was entering summer school at a prestigious university near me. This was a total lie, as I later learned from them when I was contacting them for writing samples for the document examiner. She ended up living at my place while she pretended to go to school. Then she stayed here with me after school supposedly ended for the term, and lived here for years, meanwhile stealing everything I had (except for a half ownership in the family house). She worked for a little while, but soon stopped, preferring to bleed me while she destroyed me. I loved her, which was a huge misjudgment on my part. In my defense, she hid her lies very well; she is a very good psychopath, and I never noticed any lies while she was here. After she used up all of my money and more, she stole from my sister, who was not in love and less gullible and vulnerable than I. That put the police on her tail, and Shannon, seeing a bleak future ahead for herself if she stayed, went back to Indiana. She, no doubt hoping that everything would blow over and she'd be able to return to continue parasitizing me further, perhaps taking the house (she had wanted to marry me, and I suspect that was the house was her objective for that). I truly thought she was innocent, for way too long. But since she was now back in Indiana and no longer had access to my mail (though she wanted me to send my mail to her, for her to "sort"), a letter from the IRS, telling me about taxes that I knew I didn't owe, was shocking. I still thought that, somehow, she was innocent, but before long I realized the truth. Looking back, I know that she only came to live with me for two reasons: my trusting vulnerability and her unusual sexual proclivities. She never loved me. The bottom line, for readers that encounter her, is that Shannon is a psychopath, is a very convincing liar, and neither looks nor acts like a psychopath. You should skip first impressions, and observe her for a while. I'm particularly concerned for her son, and the effect her behavior has on him.

On to my tidbits directed to Shannon.

⦁ 00, which was our code for a particular form of sex practice. I'm certain that's the main reason that you came to this city. The practice was disgusting and dangerous for me. And you should know that I’ve suffered permanent serious physical damage because of it. Maybe I should describe it in detail, but I'd truly like to avoid sharing it in public if at all possible, even though it gives a great insight into your evil. I'll probably wait for a little while to see whether you're going to make things right, and if you don't, give a more full account. There’s so much related info to tell people, such as the time you tried to drown me in the bathtub. Keep in mind, Shannon, that the story makes you look far worse than me.

⦁ You told the police—TWICE—that I sexually abused you. The irony, of course, is that our roles were exactly reversed. It’s interesting that, when I told the detective that I wanted to press charges against you, he predicted, matter-of-factly, that you would make that claim against me. At the time I didn’t believe him, but he was right. By his statement I guess that many women lie a lot about such things when claims are made against them.

⦁ When you stole the car (yes, OF COURSE I have documents about that as well—and I talked to the prosecutor later), you left a lot of my CDs in there. Then, when I got furious with law enforcement and the judicial system for picking on my poor, innocent (sarcasm), girlfriend, I persuaded you to go to your home state with me so that I could try to straighten things out for you. I don’t know why you agreed to go there, because of course you wouldn’t let me talk to the prosecutor and thereby learn the truth. More important these days is that you wouldn’t “permit” me to go to the police to pick up the CDs from the car, obviously because you were afraid of hearing the truth from them. The result is that I not only didn’t get the CDs, but I didn’t even remember all of the artists and titles, so that I couldn’t replace them. Of course, that's just one of many messes you left behind for me to try to straighten up, such as the reader you stole from the library, the tons of library fines over books you stole, all the services you secretly attached to my landline, and the bill that you ran up on the cell phone that was under my name but that you were the one that used.

⦁ When you decided to screw me over, you knew that any letters and such sent to my address increased your chance of being discovered. So you went to a nearby town's post office, and opened a post office box there. You even added my dead mother's name to the box. I still have the forged federal application in your handwriting.

⦁ One of the writings you left behind was a letter to my money fund, telling them to make you the beneficiary if I die. You sucked up my money so fast and thoroughly that you never had an opportunity to actually send it in, but of course I still have it, with your handwriting. But the take-home message is that you were hoping for my death. Or maybe planning it? If you had played it straightforwardly, you could have just asked me to write it myself. Back in those innocent days, I would have done it for you eagerly.

⦁ When you knew that time was running out between you and the police because you also stole from my sister, you prepared, behind my back, for your departure. You hid all kinds of your stuff in the attic behind the costumes you and I had gathered. That’s how I got so many writing samples for the document examiner to use. Previously I had written to your former employers for any scraps. Treasure trove, afterward.

⦁ When you left, we stayed in contact for a while, before I knew the full truth of what you had done. You asked me to mail your sewing machine to you, while you encouraged me to drink a lot of vodka so I’d finish the task. And you even had me send you money for food. You used me like a parasite does, knowing full well that I was going to have to go through total financial hell in the near future. What kind of human being does that to someone else? A psychopath.

⦁ I noticed that you were looking for a car right after you left. Which is really, really wrong, because I had no car at this point and you left me with no money for a car of my own. Which makes me wonder: there was a lot of money that we could have used to buy a car before, but instead you insisted on continually getting rental cars (supposedly paid for by your father, but really paid out of the money you stole from me). Why did you do that? Buying a car outright would have made my money last longer, so this makes no sense, even for a psychopath. Is it because it would be more obvious that I alone was paying for the car for the both of us?

⦁ I emailed with your former roommate or friend (was her name Elizabeth?—I can’t exactly remember, although I can dig it up if necessary). She said that you were the most deceptive person she’d ever met. I will give you that—you certainly don’t have the *appearance* of a psychopath, shy and quiet acting and all.

⦁ Afterward, in an email to Stacy, you said that my sister and I were totally screwed up. But neither one of us hurt anyone, while you stole from both of us and destroyed one of us.,

⦁ I remember when we were first started off with emailing back and forth, I was online, both day and night. Later I asked whether it seemed strange that I was always available, and asked what you’d thought about that. You said that you’d assumed I was a genius child, keeping school hours. I was shocked, because we were conducting some seriously kinky conversation. Didn’t you worry about damaging the kid psychologically? Nope, you said.

⦁ An aside: In college, you ran away without telling anyone, leaving people thinking, for a long time, that you were dead. (Documentation is available in newspaper copies online.) When you told me about it later, you showed me a picture of your father during the time your parents spent searching for you. He was exhausted and depressed. But instead of that making you feel bad about what you had caused, you were proud that you had evaded detection. At the time, I assumed that I was reading your emotions wrong. But I now know better.

⦁ I just remembered: Once you and I happened to be driving behind a strip mall after hours. A cop car started following us. You were cool. You suggested to me that I should get out and pretend to be examining the tire tread for a stuck rock. That worked fine, and the cop moved on. I told you that I had been nervous. You told me that you hadn't been, because you always assume that you are smarter than the police. That seemed incredibly arrogant to me. True, you might be smarter than some individual cops. But you don't have their training and experience, the capability to call other police on the radio for backup, and weaponry. Every once in a while you'd let such incredible arrogance show through.

⦁ I remembered this as well. Once you joked, about a woman whose child had been killed, that it was no big deal since she can always make another. After you left here, I read a lot of books about psychopaths, to try to figure you out. The author of one of the books told the exact same joke, as an example of how psychopaths have a lack of empathy. I always wondered whether you told the joke because you had read in the same book, while you were reading to try to understand your own self.

⦁ After the police went to Indianapolis to interrogate you, they told me that you'd agreed to pay me back everything you stole. But you never sent me anything at all. I aim to change that. Please don't make the mistake that if you just ignore this email, I will simply drop it all.

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