#but ive never been a fan of greetings that involve faces getting too close

[ihearasound]

Not a fan of this cultures greetings where men get a firm handshake and women either get ignored or a kiss on the cheek tbh

[glilboy]

Ateez reactions to finding you reading smut about them: Hyung line

ive had this idea for awhile and even requested it a few times from other writers but..i felt it was time to write it lol

tws under the cut

warning, this piece of fiction contains mentions of somnophilia, slight dom and sub dynamics, and general explicit topics.

Hongjoong:

You had attempted to stay up waiting for Hongjoong, deciding to reread one of your favorite stories in the mean time. Unfortunately that wasnt enough to keep you awake, you ultimately passing out and your phone tumbling onto the floor.

Hongjoong had a feeling you'd passed out since you didnt message him any "i miss you :(" texts after 11pm so seeing you knocked out on the couch was no surprise. He slowly padded over to you smiling softly, then noticing your phone on the floor and went to pick it up for you. He was never the kind to go through your phone but your smart self had no shut down timer which left the fan fiction on display for him.

He couldnt help but be curious seeing paragraphs of text and decided a little reading would do no harm. As he began to read though he felt his gut sweep, in a good way. He was honestly a little upset until he saw his name but when he read his name it was like all of exhaustion disappeared. Luckily he didn't have work the next day he thought to himself.

Sitting down on the couch with a plan he slowly nudged you awake. "Hi dear," he spoked softly with a smirk.

You rubbed at your bleary eyes and looked up at him, "Oh hi Joongie. Sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep." He smiled even bigger at you.

"Thats fine, it helped me find out something fun," he tucked your hair behind your ear. Still waking up you made a small "huh?" before seeing the phone in his hand.

"Oh..." you mumbled, starting to be awake enough to get it. You finally looked at him straight on and saw his signature devilish grin.

He moved his hand to slowly move up your thigh, giving it a small squeeze which elicted a sigh out of you. "Didn't think you'd read stuff like that Y/N, but I guess you're just full of surprises huh doll," the pet name made you shiver, Hongjoong never having used that one before.

"I'm sorry Joongie," you mumbled into your arm, face now red. His hand moving up to cup your core and grind his hand into it making you whimper softly.

"Oh dont be sorry dolly, just shows me that you really miss me."

Seonghwa:

Saying Seonghwa was caring was an understatement in a way. Despite his busy schedule he made it a point to showed he cared in different ways. One thing he always did was if you left your phone out at all he would put it on the charger for you. Small things!

Today though he had come home earlier than usual while you were taking a quick shower. Seeing your phone on the counter he waltzed over setting his stuff down to throw it on the charger even if it wasn't that low. He noticed you left it on, open to a book he assumed enough.Him being the lovely man he is he wanted to read a bit to see what you liked and possibly buy you a physical copy. Written porn with his name in it though was not what he was expecting.

Seonghwa gulped, setting down your phone with his hands shaking and his face now flushed pink. He took a deep breath and set down his bag, running his fingers through his hair now being surprisingly worked up. A part of him felt embarrassed for being turned on by the writing but at the same time he knew you didn't read it for no reason.

"Hwa! You're home early hello!" You ran up to him giggling, now clean and dressed in some sweats.

"Hey babe, yeah we got let out early cause we learned the new choreography fast enough. They asked us if we wanted to do more vocal practice but none of us did," He laughed, trying to shift his legs to hide his slight erection.

"None of you stay late ever," you giggled sarcastically up at him. "Well, I was gonna take a nap. Do you want to? I'm sure you're tired."

He nodded softly and took your hand walking to your guys bedroom talking about your day. He changed himself into more comfortable clothing then joined you in bed, you curling into him quickly. Once you settled Seonghwa felt he could actually breathe, feeling like a middle schooler just for getting more worked up from having you close. He heard your breath settle which is when he shifted away a bit from you.

"Fuck..." He mumbled, having the space now laying on his back to palm himself over his erection. Looking over at your sleeping face made it worse, the piece you had opened having involved somnophilia. One thing he never had the guts to suggest to you despite having such an open relationship.

He didn't notice your eyes flutter open at the movement. You only just fell asleep so you were in no means in too deep. You decided to play it though, closing your eyes and throwing a leg over his waist as if you were just adjusting in your sleep.

He inhaled a sharp breath and bit his lip now mildly frustrated at the whole situation. Mumbling a fake sleepy "Hwa" you moved to straddle the man hearing a childish sigh escape his lips.

"If you keep moving, I swear to god," He mumbled out loud thinking youre still asleep since you had always been a chaotic sleeper.

"And what will you do about it horny kid," you giggled against his neck. You could feel his body tense.

"Go back to sleep and I'll fuck you like your sick little fantasy, how about that hm?"

yunho:

Rain was beating against the window as you cuddled up on the couch with your phone in hand. Yunho was on the other side of his personal office playing video games. It was a chill day but something in the air was setting you slightly off the edge.

Besides the sweet glances and cheesy smiles thrown at each other, your screen was very much the opposite of innocent pure love. Getting indulged in the story you started to zone in, missing some of his looks making Yunho curious as to what your interest was delved into currently.

"Be right back guys," he said into the mic mischievously. Quickly making his way over he slipped the phone out of your hand, this behavior wouldve typically been fine but because of the contents on your screen you gasped and reached out for your phone. "You doing something naughty or do you just like acting suspicious?" he grinned before looking at your phone.

His face feel reading the paragraph of a particularly nsfw scene. You were now sitting up staring at him wide eyed, "yuyu please oh god its not what you think, i think." Silence filled the room, the only noises being the sound of his running pc and the dull chatter of the other boys.

"Do you read this often?" he said out of hesitation and pure curiosity, almost feeling that he violated your private space. He kind of got the gist of it all right away, thankfully for your sake.

"Not all the time but i mean, you are busy yunho," you tried to softly explain knowing this was odd territory.

"Do you...ever want to try it," he says, getting to the end of the page and looking at you.

"I can't say that..none of them aren't, nice," the air was filled with an awkward energy that could suffocate another person if they came in at such a weird time.

The two of you stood there for a second, until he moved towards you and took your hand. He placed it on his bulge and you sucked a breathe in.

"Take off my pants," he ordered, a strange harsh tone to his voice. For you guys there was never set roles, not any dom or sub dynamic but it wasnt vanilla per say so him speaking like this was new. Besides that, you did as he said and pushed your thumbs under the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down his legs.

Silently he took your hand then sat down on his gaming chair, pulling out his large cock. He slipped on his headphones before looking up at you with a shit eating grin.

"Sit down, i can tell youve been dying too babe."

yeosang:

You were waiting for yeosang to come home after a shorter than usual practice, deciding to pass the time by indulging in your secret world. In the midst of browsing your favorite blogs you didn't hear the door open, this event made you learn not to have headphones in when participating in such activities.

Walking in, Yeosang looked around for you and spotted your figure on the couch. He slowly moved near with a secret motive of scaring you when he glanced at your phone seeing a photo of him paired with a lot of writing. Tilting his head curiously he squinted to read the text, reading along with you until his face flushed.

Sucking in a breath slightly he moved back to the door, playing off him just entering. You noticed his figure walking towards you and sneakily turned off your phone and got up to greet him.

"Hey babe, it's nice to see you in the sunlight," you giggled and wrapped your hands around his waist. You noticed him hesitantly wrapping his arms around you, causing you to pull away.

"Hey, whats up? you seem a bit off?" you pouted and brushed the hair out of his eyes, not catching the little blush.

"Yeah yeah babe, I'm fine. promise," he cleared his throat and pulled away, making your heart sink a bit. He practically completely ignored what you actually said.

"No Yeo, I- did I do something wrong? Or just a long day?" you pried knowing something was up.

Shifting awkwardly on his feet he looked up at you, his hair back in his face. "I um, saw what you were reading."

The color drained from your face, mouth slightly hanging not knowing what to say. You thought he was pissed, was going to leave and break up with you but right when you were about to talk he spoke again.

"C-can we do that?"

A moment of silence passed and you looked up at him, your boyfriend who was typically very soft and gentle in bed. Knowing what you were reading was likely pretty heavy in his book, you became worried. "Yeo, I just read it. It means nothing I don't want to make you uncomforta-"

His lips cut yours off and one hand entangled in your hair, his other guiding you to the wall by your hip. Back flush against the way you pulled away after a moment to see his eyes wide and sweat already beading down his temple.

"I've wanted to do that, just didn't want to scare you dear."

[bunny-banana]

For the director's cut thing, the story where Fabri asks Ermal out on a date but Ermal doesn't realize that? 👀

YO SO WE GONNA DO THAT OR WHAT

Its this fic btw if anyones curious.  

Chap 1

Even with closed eyes, he sensed the man lying next to him turn towards him but Fabrizio did not spoke immediately. No, he just stayed silent for a bit, Ermal wasn’t quite sure what he was observing but before Ermal could ask, Fabrizio broke the silence.

its u. he’s gazing at u, u idiot.

*

*

’You didn’t exactly give off the vibe that you’d say yes’

“What the fuck does that even mean? I don’t give off the vibe?!”

mr no-homo meta has NO right to be surprised at that. boy went into a panic attack every time someone as much as breathed the suggestion ofc fab was Anxious

*

*

A certain Roman showing up at his doorstep looking like he’d belong to the Milan Fashion Week.A tight grey shirt whose top three buttons almost begged to be opened (yet remained miraculously, in Fabris case, closed!) clung nicely to the body underneath it. A very fine silver chain hung around his neck that perfectly fit with the rings and the watch on his hand.Instead of ripped denim, now tight & shiny dark jeans were worn and to round this look up, an impeccably tailored black, suit jacket was thrown over him.

so not to be Hoe on main but we all just love Sexy Fab.  but more so, i really thought Fabrizio would have put a lot of effort into dressing nicely this time around. Probably called a few friends, crying to help him. He just wanted Ermal to like his look. Which he did.   A lot.  again, outstanding heterosexual of the year, ermal meta is completely mesmerised by that look.

*

*

“Well, well, Fab. Gotta say, this place is on a whole different level“ The curly haired man commented as he flipped through the menu.“You like it?”“How could I not?”

again, Fabrizio intentionally looking up a fancy place for their Date, something he actually felt a little bit uncomfortable about himself and wouldnt normally chose for himself. But then again, he was greatly relieved when Ermal actually did say he liked it.

*

*It felt.. nice. The whole evening was quite nice, Ermal had to admit, even with the unusual ambient.

Ermal is just honestly iconic in this fic. man enjoys fabrizios appearance, enjoys talking with him,  eating out with him, just spending time with him in general sooo much……and yet.

*

*

Fabrizio tilted his head and was it the candle light or something else, but a intriguing shine filled his eyes.“I’d know something sweeter than this.” In the next moment, everything turned upside down when Fabrizio suddenly took his hand and intertwined their fingers, his thumb gently brushing over the back of the younger man’s hand.

THE COURAGE THIS TOOK. THE NERVES WHICH WERE WRECKED.  Fab really just went “ok here we go balls to the wall now or never”

*

*

Chap2

“So, Fabrizio….Fabrizio likes me. Apparently.” It felt interesting to say it out loud. Ermal got a tingly feeling at the thought. So ..it was him who made Fabrizio blush earlier? Who made him nervous? And smiley?  Christ, he actually really wanted Ermal to like his outfit, didn’t he? A small smirk found its way on Ermal’s face. Who would have thought that he’d have Fabrizio Moro of all people wrapped around his finger.

erm: so im het

also erm: wow i really really like the fact that fabrizio is into me. its actually super exciting. kinda makes me happy in a way.

*

*

“Wait, what?! I should ask him out?!”“Yeah? Isn’t that something you want?”Is that something he- But that would imply that he’d want to pursue Fabrizio, his very male, masculine, manly friend Fabrizio who was definitely not by any chance a woman. To have a relationship with guy that was …..romantic… and oh sweet Mother of God, sexual?!“I- I- I don’t know.”

so yeah, to get to the bottom of this, when you’re in the process of realising your own …..non-heterosexuality, its just A Lot to take in.  I thought, realistically, that would just be a bit too much for Ermal to take in at that moment. He had to process the mere thought of “yes, you could have a romantic relationship with this guy, since he’s into you. Its absolutely a possibility”. When you’re conditioned to think “i can only ever date people of the opposite sex” all your life, it takes a bit of time to get accustomed to new possibilities.

And then theres the sexual aspect which is like, on Jupiter, for Ermal’s current state of mind.

*

*

Chap3

The video he currently was immersed in showed a slow-mo fight between a mongoose and a cobra that in all its intensity outdid any action movie in a heartbeat.

i remember watching that vid before writing that chapter and being mesmerised by it. u fucking go lil mongoose!

*

*

[Bizio]: sorry i cant this weekend

First, i just love the thought of him being saved as Bizio on Ermals phone. Second, the reason why he replied so late was because he was wrecking his mind about it. Should he go? should he not? god, the thought of seeing ermal excited him and yet scared him. nonononno. he’s trying to get Over Ermal. He needs space. he is not ready yet.

*

*

[Ermal]:Fabri!! Heard you’re coming up North! 😁 I have this excellent bottle of wine that a fan gave me the other day (don’t ask) so how about we open it at my place? I know you love a good wine 😉🍷

He couldn’t even slide the phone back into his pocket before it started buzzing. Surprisingly, the reply came almost instantly this time.[Bizio]:sorry no the schedule is pretty tight for me at the moment i dont think ill have much time in milan

i just image him getting the weirdest fucking fan gifts. also lmao the lightning speed with which fab replied. homeboy saw that wine would be involved and imemdiately thought “nononononono. worst case, my drunk ass might kiss him, god forbid. we are absolutely not gonna do that”

*

*

[Ermal]:So I’m flipping through the channels at home and there comes a baking show and I wouldn’t normally stop to watch but you know what they’re baking? Those creamy pastry things we had in Lisbon!

Now the idea about the Pasteis de Nata stemms from a real life event! During ESC 2018 i slept at a friends house and since the contest was held in Portugal we decided to cook something portuguese. Thats what we did. They fucking slap. Also, one of the best weekends ive ever had

*

*

However, this is how things continued as to all of Ermal’s messages, he’d receive rather uncharacteristically short replies. When he sent him photos he’d often not reply at all and even when he called Fabri didn’t pick.

Okay we have to image in WHAT kinda mental state Fabrizio is in that time. Boy is EMBARASSED to death. Then obviously, he is trying his hardest to get rid of this crush.  So he just isnt talking to Ermal at all. Which in turn makes him lonely and sad.  So then Ermal shoots him a message, sends him a picture and Fabrizio is immediately head over heels again. Which he shouldnt be. Bad Fabri. And the circle repeats itself.

*

*

Fabrizio who smiled sweetly at the host, who hugged her tightly, who joked with her and oh, whose eyes didn’t stick to her face but wandered more and more south.

Dude honestly, Fab was not flirting with anyone. He was just being nice as he usually is. And we all know he a lil bit sleazy so yeah, he might have looked down once or twice. but he really was not flirting. It was just Ermals affection-deprived mind going berserk.

Also that was the first time Ermal witnessed Fabrizio being affectionate with someone else. And the contrast to that cold shoulder he received was just the last straw for him.

*

*

“Why is he all smiley and lovey-dovey with her while he treats me as if I’m a war criminal?!” Ermal shouted the second the other line got picked up.“Uhm, hello? Maybe a ‘Good morning’ first of all? A simple ‘how are you doing, Sabina?’ would have been appreciated too.”

Damn bitch can ya greet ur sister first before going off smh

*

*

And would it have been really that bad if Ermal had just held on to his hand? Let Fabrizio gently stroke him with his thumb, maybe even squeeze back while Ermal’s finger draws circles over letters that covered the older man’s knuckles.It would have been nice and Ermal would have liked it.

I think he just needed to see what he was missing out to realise what he really has always wanted. If things were to go back to normal, he would have never made any realisations.

*

*

“Am I- Do I like Fabrizio?”

No, we dont ask what he is. Because thats for another time, a calmer time. Or maybe not at all. He doesnt know the answer to that question and its not important right now. All he knows is that despite it all, he likes Fabrizio.

*

*

The fact he was a guy was new, but those feelings involved weren’t.

I feel like this is just a very bisexual experience. At least to me it was. Its very confusing when u are genuinely attracted to the opposite sex, so you make the conclusion: you are obviously straight. Its not possibly that you are not-straight.  

Then u start feeling attraction to someone of ur own gender and its like “hmmm. Obviously this must be fake since we have established that Im genuinely attracted to the opposite sex ”

But the thing is..it aint going away. And then u think how you’d perhaps be down for sex, and perhaps be down for something more, and perhaps do all those nice things you would be doing with someone of the opposite sex.  

So yeah, its ..its really confusing and complicated to figure it out. And if you actually do have a feelings for someone it only makes matters more complicated ig

*

*

“Jesus, I really do like him. Me. Liking a guy.”

Again, once u made That Realisation, its just the WILDEST thing in the beginning. a complete NEW concept being applied to yourself.

*

*

“LISTEN CUT THE BULLSHIT I KNOW EXACTLY THAT YOU’RE HOME! OPEN UP OR I WILL STAND HERE ALL NIGHT I’M NOT FUCKING AROUND!” In addition to the knocking he now also started ringing the doorbell. He sure as hell wouldn’t move here until that door wasn’t opened.“I DONT GIVE A FUCK, I WON’T EVEN SLEEP AND NEITHER WILL YOU. I CAN GO ON FOREVER YOU HEAR ME, FABRIZIO MOBRICI?!”

Ermal is just unhinged in all my fics.

*

*

Epilogue

[Ermal💛]: You ready?

Fabrizio added that heart right immediately after Ermal left his house a week prior.

*

*

Ermal looked….cuddly.

So yeah we all know Fab isnt the keenest on fashion and shit. And i just though Ermal would want him to be as comfortable as possible on their date, so he was like “ay come casual” . and also, its sort of cute that Ermal lets Fabri see him so casual too, its sort of more private in that sense.

*

*

And those were still the mild surprises, let’s not start with the downright shock he felt when his brain started providing words like kissable, attractive, sexy and hot during lonelier nights.

i have a fic for those kinda nights too

*

*

“It’s not that far and God knows men your age need the exercise anyway.”

ermal just cant show affection like a normal person, he has to roast u even when he’s madly in love with u

*

*

What followed behind the colourful door was a small chaos. Literally. People constantly coming and going, with buzzing voices chatting in every corner. They made their way half through the rather crowded establishment, got greeted by a waiter who rushed past them, before they finally spotted a couple leaving, liberating two chairs for them.

SO YEAH. the restaurant. it is loosely based on a place here in Vienna. Its pakistani food too, its a buffet, its kinda chaotic like described in the fic. also u can pay as much as u want.

i just thought, yknow, its home made cooking and its kinda relaxed and chill and casual and has a certain liberal flair to it. and i thought yeah that has fabri energy we gonna use that. also their mango rice puddings fucking slap

*

*

Languages were not his forte, those belonged to Ermal, but Fabrizio ran through his options. It surely wasn’t French or Spanish, that he would at least recognise. German looked different too; they had those dots over their U’s and those curly B’s which allegedly weren’t B’s at all. Swedish? Danish? No. He’s been to Ikea often enough to know that his wardrobe wouldn’t be called Qershor. And Russian had different letters but maybe it was something similar to Russian?

Okay, so I’m a known Slut for Languages.  Fabrizio is not. I can pretty much recognise most European languages in written form at some point in a text. Fabrizio can not. Therefore writing this from the perspective of someone who really isnt into languages was kind of interesting and a bit challenging. I was just thinking ‘how would he recognise them when he isnt into them?’  And i think, in the end, i did it realistically.

*

*

“Is it like..Serbian? Croatian? Or something?” He mumbled while putting a piece of eggplant in his mouth but quickly realised the answer when Ermal almost spit out his water from laughing.“No, definitely not. I can guarantee you, it’s very much not Serbian or Croatian ‘or something’.” Ermal chuckled with a bright smile, obviously enjoying their little guessing game. “But you’re close. In a way.”

This is SO embarrassing but this whole language guessing game was just a setup to an inside joke I have with myself.  So, for those who don’t know, I speak Serbo-Croatian. And I study Slavic studies. The first things they tell you in the first lesson of the Slavic Linguistics course is “Please, for the love of God, PLEASE, dont say Albanian/Hungarian/Romanian is a slavic language”. Apparently many europeans assume these languages are because theyre surrounded by slavic countries. BUT TO AN ACTUAL SLAVIC NATIVE SPEAKER, the difference is immediately obvious and so its quite comical when people assume theyre related languages.   So i thought the reverse would be kinda funny to Ermal too.

*

*

“I can be anything the teacher wants me to be. A good student, a naughty student, whatever floats his boat…” He asked sultrily before winking at the man across of him whose higher brain functions seemed to have ceased at once and just gaped at him like a fish.

boys whole brain got fried when the sexiest man in italy started flirting with him. issokay, he was just shocked. fabrizio has never been flirty with him before, he’ll get used to it.

*

*

“I was just trying to give you the best date that I could.“At those words, the Roman frowned however."Wait, this was a date?!”

im just an asshole honestly

*

*

They giggled as they finally closed the gap between them going for a slow and deep kiss.

i just love them being all SOFT and in LOVE

*

*

“Erm, I- I have an instore tomorrow, I better be well rested.”His counterpart just huffed and raised an eyebrow.“So were you planning on staying up all night, huh?”

Fabs horn dog brain definitively went HmmmmMmm this is nice:) ..could get even nicer:)  but no fuck, i have work to do tomorrow

*

*

“Love how you immediately forget about a good night’s sleep once you have a tongue in your mouth.”“Fuck off.”

He just got carried away as if u were complaining ermal smh

*

*

"I bet on everything I have that your password is 'liberoanita1’ so yes, I actually can.”

Parents culture is just using ur children’s names as all your passwords and we all know Fabri is that kinda parent.

*

*

All in All, i also wanna talk about how the epilogue mirrors the first chapter, but in a more successful light.

Fabrizio dresses for Ermal - Ermal dresses for Fabrizio

fancy place - more casual place

They take the car - they walk

Fabrizio takes Ermals hand on the open for everyone to see - Ermal takes Fabrizios hand under the table, in private

They eat their dessert seperately - they eat theri dessert together

they fall out - they become closer, kiss

they dont talk - they plan the next date

anyway thanks for reading and thank uuuuuu for this ask julchen

[luv-esabella]

It’s a Stupid Sweatshirt

Thank you @Lnc2 for creating the Silly Songs With Ladybug Challenge. I got the song “Sweatshirt” by Jacob Sartorius. And I know I’m a little late, but this fic was way longer than I expected.

***

“Really Nino? This was the best you can do?” Adrien mused when he received a package right when he stepped onto the school’s campus, although had a hunch on what it contained. Nino’s expression was a dead giveaway.

“Just open the package and put it on! I had to commission this online, but it was so worth it! I’m pretty sure the designer thinks I’m one of your obsessed fanboys, but whatever. Time to pay up dude!” the DJ laughed as Adrien tore through the package and looked at the design.

“It’s a stupid sweatshirt,” the model shot a glare at his friend, although he was a little amused at the design himself.

The front of the sweatshirt said “I’m Under Agreste” along with a picture of his face back when he had a particularly embarrassing underwear photoshoot. The picture was his best attempt at a smoldering gaze, although it wasn’t all that hard for him to pose for the camera. All he had to do was imagine that he was posing for Ladybug. Or rather Marinette.

Speaking of which, he looked up to see the designer was entering the school with Alya by her side. The ravenette was laughing, most likely at something her friend said before looking around the courtyard and spotting him. Immediately she turned a bright red and looked away super fast.

Adrien sighed as the girls continued on as they were. It’s not his fault that the reveal has been particularly embarrassing. Mostly on his part. Which was why it took him so long to actually talk to her about it. However, it was his fault that there was a semi-awkward rift between them now. This was what he gets for waiting so long to confront her.

“Dude! There’s more!” Nino interrupted his thoughts, “Turn to the back.”

If Adrien thought the front was bad, the back definitely took the cake. In big loopy letters read “Guess things got too Agreste-ive”, along with a few lipstick imprints scattered randomly on the fabric. It wasn’t hard for anyone to guess what the sweatshirt was implying.

“Does it have to be a week?” Adrien squeaked out as he turned the shade of Ladybug’s suit.

Nino laughed, although it sounded like a sinister crackle to his ears.

“This is what happens when you lose a bet! Time to follow through with it,” the DJ grinned.

The model grumbled before slipping the sweatshirt on. He already had a feeling that this was going to be a long week. Luckily he only had to wear the sweatshirt within the school campus. His father would throw a fit if he actually saw him wear anything remotely hideous in front of the public.

They both waited for the bell to ring before heading to class. And just as they got to their homeroom, Adrien got the reaction that he was expecting. All eyes turned to him and Nino’s “gift”. Immediately the whole class was in an uproar. Scratch that. The attention he was getting now was a thousand times worse.

“Dang Agreste. Trying to tell us what happened last night or something?” Alya smirked with a wriggle of her eyebrows.

Nino laughed as he greeted his girlfriend.

“This is his payment for losing that bet two weeks ago.”

Alya smiled in delight. “My, my Lahiffe. I see you’ve been picking up on some of my teachings. I can’t believe that he’s wearing this for a whole day!”

Ha, He wish it was only for a day. Not that Alya needed to know. Unfortunately, Nino had no mercy. And just like he suspected, his friend told the reporter all she needed to know.

“This is quite impressive,” the brunette mused, “Good luck trying to escape all your fans.”

Adrien grumbled. No need to remind him when he already got a ton of reactions from them this morning.

After a while of more teasing from his friends, they decided to spare him. The rest of the class period was uneventful. However, he did hear the offhand comment coming from Chloé or a stray remark from Alix.

When lunch came around, Adrien underestimated the attention that was coming his way.

“Agreste obviously wants more attention from his lady fans. As if he didn’t have it already, let the other guys have a turn!”

“Isn’t Adrien’s sweatshirt hot? I definitely need to buy one for myself!”

“I wonder if he wants that sweatshirt to apply to me.” He heard snickers from that particular group of girls.

“Whatever. He’s probably wearing it to show off to his girlfriend.”

The last comment made Adrien blush as he and Nino headed towards their usual lunch spot. It’s not like he never thought of it before after all Chat Noir tried showing off to Ladybug countless times before. But how would Marinette act if he tried showing off as Adrien?

In fact, the whole day the designer was rather quiet about the whole sweatshirt ordeal. Her opinions never surfaced once.

“Hey guys! Sorry we’re late,” Alya smiled as she and Marinette joined the group.

The ravenette shot a glance at him, before looking down at his sweatshirt and looking back up at his face. The model smirked. Just as he was about to ask her opinion on his fashion choice, Alya decided to cut in.

“Have you guys seen the new Ladynoir content on my blog?”

Marinette looked smug as she settled into the new topic. She may have never shown interest in Ladynoir content before, but it beats Adrien’s to-be interrogation. Meanwhile, Adrien was sulking in his seat. And since it looks like he can’t talk to her alone, it looks like the only time available would be on patrol, which is, unfortunately, two days away.

Doesn’t matter though. His lady may think she could escape him, but she has never been more wrong. All he needed to do was wait a little longer.

***

The rest of the day, and the two days after that was nothing but hilarious torture for Adrien. Seriously, he was pretty sure he saw one of his fans have a close replica of his current sweatshirt. It was hilariously creepy, and Nino couldn’t help but agree.

However, when the two friends enter the classroom for the final lesson of the day, it seems like they were interrupting a certain conversation. One involving Adrien and his sweatshirt.

“Seriously. Whatcha think Mari? Hot or not?”

“It’s just a stupid sweatshirt Alya. If he and Nino want to be ridiculous then that’s fine. A lot of people wear these things without others fussing over it.”

“But it’s the Adrien Agreste! Obviously, people are going to fuss over it!”

“That doesn’t mean that I have to Alya.”

The redhead huffed before countering her best friend. “You never answered my question Mars. Although, if I didn’t know you any better, I’m pretty sure you think sunshine model was pretty hot.”

Alya smirked mischievously as the ravenette turned bright red before composing herself instantaneously.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “It’s not like it’s a super big deal or anything.”

The group caught on to her mistake before the ravenette could do so herself.

“Not a big deal huh,” the brunette smirked evilly.

Marinette rolled her eyes again as she took out her sketchbook, not interested in further conversation, “Yep. Not a big deal Als.”

“I bet you wouldn’t make it a day in Mr. Model’s shoes. How about I offer you a deal.”

Whatever the dare was going to be, Adrien already knew that his lady was going to go through with it. Ladybug was super competitive and never backed down from a challenge before. Why was this time any different?

Unfortunately for the model, he couldn’t hear what the dare was since the girls spotted them and decided to keep their deal a secret. Patrol was tonight anyways. He’ll get all the answers he needed by then.

*** “Alya won the bet, so you’re safe for the rest of the week. Your welcome.”

Adrien pulled the phone away from his face as he stared at the screen, not that Nino could see his expression.

“What does that have to do with anything?” The model finally voiced. Maybe he missed something the DJ said earlier that day. Or maybe his friend just didn’t mention anything at all. It wouldn’t be the first time. It seems like his friend kept a lot of little things a secret.

He heard some shuffling across the screen before a new voice spoke up.

“Doesn’t matter,” Alya grumbled before perking up a second later. “Can I borrow your sweatshirt the rest of the week though?”

Before Adrien could reply, the reporter was already speaking again, “Thanks! Bye!”

The model didn’t even bother to speak since he heard more shuffling across the phone.

“Marinette lost her side of the bet. You’re off the hook for now,” Nino voiced, not bothering to explain things anymore.

Well thanks Nino. As if that’s going to tell me anything, the model thought.

“Meaning?”

“That means that she’s going to be wearing your sweatshirt. The stupid gag gift? I thought that you’d be more excited but-”

Adrien stopped listening after that.

All he could think about now was Marinette. In his sweatshirt. Marinette was going to be in his sweatshirt! Oh god! His lady was going to wearing something he wore! God, he was so happy!

He was brought back to earth when Plagg started growling and flew across the room to his precious Camembert stack. He mumbled something about stupid love-struck teens before indulging in his snack.

“I gotta go Nino. See you tomorrow ok?”

“But dude!”

The model hung up. He looked at the clock and realized it was time for patrol. Perfect. He smirked as he called upon his transformation. Won’t his lady be happy about what he’d learned...

***

“I think that’s about it, don’t you think Chat?” Ladybug smiled as they finished their rounds for the night. She walked along the beams of the Eiffel Tower before sitting down.

She looked at the view of Paris sparkling in the moonlight. Sleepless nights were worth it if she could see her city like this almost every night.

She turned her attention towards her partner, who was oddly silent for most of the patrol. However, action spoke louder than words. Earlier when they did happen to speak, his eyes would always gaze into hers. And although he never specifically expressed his emotions, his eyes would always spark a question. Kinda curious, but also a bit mischievous. Like he knew something she didn’t, but he wanted her to tell him that certain something anyways.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Ladybug asked as her partner’s attention turned to face her.

He came closer to where she was. He leaned into her personal space bubble for a moment, before quickly retreating.

“What do you think LB?”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, “I’m not a mind reader chaton.”

“Really now?”

Chat Noir smirked, “So you wouldn’t happen to know anything about losing a certain bet then. Or having to wear a certain sweatshirt tomorrow?”

He took great pleasure in watching his lady’s face match the color of her suit.

“N-nope! N-not at all!” The heroine all but squeaked out.

Curse Alya and her bait and tricks. But now Chat was acting all smug too? The next two days were going to be the death of her.

“I can’t wait to see you in something I wore. Covered in my scent,” she saw Chat glance at her lips before looking up.

“Y-yeah?” She shuttered. Damn it! Now was not the time to portray any of the emotions she currently felt.

His voice dropped an octave as he scooted closer, “You’ll be marked in something that’s mine. I hope you’re ready for tomorrow m’lady. Cause I don’t intend to leave you alone.”

“How about you don’t?” It was already going to be torturous enough just to wear that darn sweatshirt. Adrien hanging around all day? She couldn’t take that.

“Nice to know that my presence affects you so much bugaboo.”

Chat hasn’t used these nicknames in a while. The reveal seemed to affect Adrien and Marinette the most, but for the most part, Ladybug and Chat Noir’s partnership remained the same. Except for the affectionate nicknames.

She wasn’t going to tell Chat that she missed them, but did he seriously have to bring them up now? It was hard enough trying to keep her cool.

“It doesn’t.” She pulled out her yo-yo and got ready to leave when Chat Noir caught her wrist.

“How about a purrposal?”

He watched as she turned to face him.

Hook.

“And that is?”

Line

“I could get Alya to call off the bet tomorrow. I know one of her dirty little secrets.”

Sinker

She put her yo-yo away before examining his face.

“You want something out of this. Don’t think that I don’t know how this works kitty.”

Chat didn’t answer. “How about another dare, bug?”

That was about the last thing she wanted right now, but if she could get Alya’s dare off her back? She’ll take it.

“What do you have in mind?”

Chat stood up slowly, looking at the direction of her house.

“I’ll race you to your balcony. Winner can claim anything they want from the loser.”

Ladybug studied her partner for a moment as she went over the consequences in her head. What could Adrien possibly want from her? Considering where they’re racing to, the odds of her winning were pretty high.

“Deal. Although, it’s pretty much a lost cause in your case. Seriously Chat? My own balcony?”

He was about to reply before she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, which was enough to stun him for a good few seconds and make him forget about what he was going to say.

She gave him a wink before jumping off the Eiffel Tower, “Go!”

He heard her laugh as she got her head start. Cheater.

He got started on his own path with the thought of a dare in mind. After all, his lady didn’t need to know that he found a fast route to her balcony when he was on a solo patrol one night. Nor did she need to know why he took solo patrols at all.

He pushed all thoughts out of his mind as he propelled himself through the air. Right now, he had a race to win.

***

“You couldn’t have won! I swear you cheated!”

It was pretty amusing seeing Ladybug all worked up. She’s been saying things like this for the last few minutes, trying to see how she could’ve possibly lost. It was pretty cute.

“You technically had a head start m’lady. If anything, you’re the cheater here.”

“I was winning! I saw my empty balcony Chat! You weren’t even in my line of sight!” She tried thinking of all the possible routes in mind. She knew the way to her house best! She should’ve came here first.

“I still won bugaboo. Or did you forget about what the winner gets?”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure Chat. Let’s just get this over with.”

She honestly should’ve learned from losing a dare the first time.

Chat smirked. “If you can keep your cool throughout the next two days, then the dare tonight is off. I won’t be able to claim my prize or anything.”

Ladybug eyed Chat. “You can’t do a dare inside a dare!”

“Well it’s not like I’m asking for a double prize or anything! Besides, the odds are more in your favor right now.”

His behavior was pretty suspicious right now. “That’s because you’re allowing the odds in my favor!” Whatever he was planning, she was onto him.

Chat Noir opened his mouth, before closing it again. This argument was going nowhere.

“Do you want to do it or not?” he finally asked.

Well, she had nothing to lose. And like she said earlier, what could he possibly want from her?

“Why not?”

Her partner grinned before planting a kiss on her cheek, similar to what she did earlier that night.

“Purrfect! See you tomorrow LB!” She watched as he disappeared from her balcony, staring after his form as he made his way home. When she finally snapped out of her stupor, she detransformed and headed inside. Stupid cat.

***

She came to school wearing her usual clothing of choice, not expecting much from the day. However, when she got to the front steps of her school, there her friends were, huddled in a circle with the smuggest expressions on their faces. Oh boy.

She snuck into the school, hoping that her friends wouldn’t notice. She finally allowed herself to take a breath of relief, once she made it into the locker area.

“Going somewhere, m’lady?”

She jumped in surprise before turning around and glaring at the blonde model.

“A little warning would be nice,” she grumbled. Honestly, this whole week has been exhausting. This shouldn’t have been a surprise.

Adrien let a small chuckle before giving her a small bag.

“The sweatshirt’s in there.”

Still glaring at her friend, she snatched the bag out of his hands and went to the bathroom to change. Luckily, it was empty. No need to die of embarrassment just yet.

She stepped out of the stall when she was done and looked at herself in one of the mirrors. It looked slightly big on her, with the sleeves being a tad too long, but it was pretty cozy. She took a sniff of the sweatshirt and realized that Adrien was right, she was going to be marked in his scent. She turned red at that thought but forced herself to calm down. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her embarrassed and flustered. With that in mind, she got out of the bathroom only to bump into Mr. Model himself.

“Seriously? You couldn’t wait until class?”

She looked up at his face only to notice his beet red expression.

Meanwhile, Adrien was trying his best not to have a mental breakdown. Welp. Too late for that. He could already tell he was blushing furiously. And judging from his lady’s smirk, he knew he looked exactly like the love-struck teen he knew he was. And who could blame him? Marinette looked adorable.

“Maybe it’s you who needs to learn how to keep his cool,” she taunted him. That’s right. Adrien knew the effect he had on her, but she nearly forgot that she could easily turn the tables around.

“Let’s get to class minou.”

He grumbled but followed her anyways.

***

Who knew that a sweatshirt could be such a big deal? Everyone but Marinette, that’s who.

If she thought that Adrien’s grand entrance on Monday was a big deal, it couldn’t compare to how the class reacted when they saw her.

Let’s just say Chloe was furious, Rose was ever the romantic, and the rest of the class was wondering what took so long for them to get together. Except that’s the problem. They weren’t.

“Girl, if it only took a ridiculous sweatshirt to get you guys together, I would’ve done that a long time ago,” Alya grinned as Marinette took her seat.

The ravenette let out a sigh. She wishes they were together, but due to strict “I don’t know where we stand” circumstances, they can’t.

“Alya, you know I would’ve told you if this was actually true, but the sad reality is that it’s not.”

The redhead studied the designer for a moment before nodding. “He’ll open up his eyes eventually, don’t worry. And guess what? If he’s too blind to realize what’s in front of him, I’ll date you myself.”

Marinette giggled at her friend’s tactics, “I’m not sure if Nino would appreciate that, but sure.”

“Well screw Nino! Why date him when I could date my best friend?”

A laugh escaped Marinette before she glanced at her friend. A look of understanding passed between the two girls. “Thanks Alya, I needed that.”

***

Unsurprisingly, Adrien used every excuse to hang at Mari’s hip for the rest of the school day.

There were mixed reactions, but the majority of them were good. Surprisingly, a lot of the guys actually congratulated Adrien, which was a compliment in itself. And there were a couple of girls like Rose that were super sweet and wished them the best. But once his fans started realizing that she was indeed wearing Adrien’s sweatshirt™, that’s when shit started going down.

“Since when was Marinette dating the Adrien Agreste?”

“Apparently, rumor has it that they’ve been dating for a while, but they’ve only started going public today.”

“I heard that she’s just using him for better connections with his father.”

“Actually, she’s just blackmailing him to stay with her, otherwise he would’ve totally ditched her a long time ago.”

And sure, some of the remarks hurt, but she was tougher than dumb rumors. A couple of times out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Adrien give some of them a glare, which shut them up immediately. But as much as Marinette would’ve liked to do something herself, she couldn’t. She still had a dare to keep up, unlike Adrien.

“You ok m’lady?” he asked when they reached her house. He insisted that he’d walk her there, which was sweet and all, but rather unnecessary.

“It’s fine. Your fans aren’t as intimidating as me you know.”

Adrien grinned, “Don’t I know it.”

The front bakery door opened, grabbing their attention as Sabine stepped out.

“Marinette, you should’ve told us that you were going to bring a visitor!” The mother looked between the two teens when she finally noticed the sweatshirt Marinette was wearing.

“I was just about to go, Mrs. Cheng. I was just walking Marinette home,” Adrien flashed a polite smile.

Sabine nodded, “Always the gentlemen I see. It’s great to see you and my daughter finally together!”

Marinette shot her a look before glancing back at Adrien, who did absolutely nothing to correct her mother.

“It’s always great whenever I see her! And as much as I would like to stay and chat, I gotta go to a photoshoot right afterward.”

Sabine smiled before handing him a bag, “Drop by whenever you like. And here’s that special order you requested.” She winked before sending Adrien on his way.

He grinned and waved goodbye as he made his way back to school, where his driver was waiting to pick him up.

The exchange between her mother and her partner seemed a little strange, but Marinette thought nothing of it. She had some homework to do anyway.

She started up the stairs when her mother called out to her, “It’s so nice of your boyfriend to give you such a nice sweatshirt sweetie!”

“Maman!”

***

Marinette was going to freak out over her surprise, Adrien just knew it. The special order that Sabine gave him was perfect! He could see where Marinette got her creative talents from.

“Kid, you’re going to give her a panic attack. You sure you want to go through with this?” Plagg asked his chosen as he got ready for the day.

“Let’s see her try winning the bet with this!” he tucked the surprise into his bag. No need for his father to ruin his fun.

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Good luck pigtails.”

If all went well, these two dorky idiots would be dating by the end of the day.

***

Marinette couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Alya kill me!” The day was already starting off and the ravenette already wanted to be put out of her misery!

If Marinette thought she was going to last through the whole week, she was sadly mistaken. Because there he was, Adrien in all of his stupid, utterly ridiculous sweatshirt glory!

“If found please return me to Marinette Dupain-Cheng” was written in bold letters, along with a pretty embarrassing photo from her cousin’s wedding about 5 months ago. Marinette made her mother swore to never let that photo see the light of day but guess what? She obviously had to betray her and engrave it on a sweatshirt worn by the number one model in all of Paris! Definitely getting good parenting points for that mom!

Alya followed her best friend’s gaze and bit her lip before giving in and laughing hysterically, much to the ravenette’s horror!

Oh she should’ve known that her chaton was going to be up to no good! Her mother was in so much trouble! She should’ve interrogated that “special order” Adrien received yesterday, but did she stick to her gut? No she didn’t!

“Adrien Agreste!” she stormed to where he was at, calmly chatting with Nino as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He smirked as he took in his lady’s expression. Her face was red with her signature Ladybug scowl, yet she was utterly adorable.

“Yes princess?”

She pretty much lost it.

(If you asked her later, she was going to blame everything on that stupid sweatshirt and Adrien Agreste’s smug face. Not that anyone actually believed her.)

When she was done with her rant, Marinette knew she made a mistake. Stupid cat made her lose her cool on purpose!

“Ugh, come with me!” the ravenette huffed.

Adrien didn’t protest as he was dragged by the arm into a secluded area.

“You’re matching me!”

Obviously. That was his plan.

“Don’t like the look m’lady?”

She wasn’t going to admit that she did, otherwise it’ll feed his ego. So instead, she decided to avoid the question altogether, “I was going to win! But you cheated!”

“All’s fair in love and war. I just happened to know your greatest weakness.”

“And what’s that?”

He took a step closer and he took delight in watching her face blush. He let out a small chuckled. He was never going to get tired of that.

“Me.”

Marinette felt her breath hitch a bit. “So... what’s your prize?”

“A date.”

She felt him reach for her fingers and intertwined his with hers.

“If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m still very much in love with you, Marinette. And hopefully you’ll do me the honors of saying yes?”

He lifted her knuckles and gave a feather-light kiss, before letting go. When he gazed at her through his eyelashes, she saw the hope and adoration that he felt for her, and wondered how she was this lucky to have such an amazing partner.

“You make it sound as if your actually proposing instead of asking me on one measly date,” she smiled.

“Well, a gorgeous charming girl deserves the best. And I was hoping this would last more than just one measly date. Wouldn’t you agree?”

His grin was breathtaking, and she felt herself fall just a little deeper.

“Pick me up at eight tomorrow?”

She reached for his hand as they started walking to class.

“It’s a date, m’lady.”

[porkchop-ao3]

Charlie Foxtrot: Part 1/7

I have been working on this for WEEKS, it was initially going to be a one shot smut fic, but Tailor Rick had other ideas and made it all about him, so. This is rather a long fic, I’ve split it into 7 parts, but I worked really hard on this and I poured so much into it, I really hope someone will read this and enjoy it. It’s quite angsty, but I think it reveals a lot about Tailor’s character, and I’m proud of it. This is probably my favourite thing I’ve written. 

This is a fic involving Tailor (obviously) and one of the SEAL team Ricks; the bald one with the beard. It contains sex, but it’s not wildly descriptive like my usual smut, the focus is more on how their relationship changes over time. Thank you to @hoodoo12 for reading this and helping me out at multiple stages through this story!

I enjoyed characterising the SEAL team Rick, I haven’t seen him written about much so I had fun with it. A few headcanons formed as I was writing him, one of them being a certain accent, hehe. This fic is linked in with my usual OC universe, and the ‘reader’ from those fics, i.e. Tailor’s assistant, makes an appearance. As does Hairstylist Rick, one of Tailor’s special friends. I sincerely hope you enjoy this! 

-

Queuing up at a coffee shop was not something Tailor did often. His assistant would normally do it for him, though she was spending a weekend with her boyfriend. This had already put him in a bad mood, but to make matters worse the coffee shop just happened to be at the Citadel, of all places. Though Tailor usually vowed never to consume anything produced at the Citadel, he was sure he would die without a coffee, and so there he was, standing with arms crossed as he waited to be served.

The hipster looking Rick working behind the counter finally turned to serve him. He wore his hair in a man-bun and had a rather impressive beard, and under the apron he was wearing Tailor could see one heck of a garishly patterned shirt. The barista stared at him for a moment expectantly, and Tailor tutted when he didn't get the polite greeting he had been waiting for.

“Good afternoon,” he said with a bite to his tone. “One black coffee please. W-with two shots of espresso and three sugars. Please.”

“Sugar's over there, you help yourself. What's your dimension code?” the barista replied, his expression not changing once. Tailor told him then the barista held his hand out to him. “Fifteen schmeckles.”

Tailor narrowed his eyes but handed him the money anyway. He was then ushered over to the side where other Ricks were waiting for their orders. Tailor put some distance between him and the others, not wanting to make eye contact and get stuck talking to one of them, heaven forbid. Not that Ricks were the most conversational of people, but there was a smiley looking guy with a lazy eye and a bowl cut looking his way and Tailor did not want to encourage him. He stood there with his eyes planted firmly on the Rick behind the counter preparing drinks. He liked to keep an eye on the people preparing his food, when given the chance.

It was a couple of minutes before he finally got his order and he marched over and took it from the barista. He shuffled over to where the sugar and napkins were and set to work stirring in three sachets of sugar one by one. He stared down into it and sighed as he watched the sugar dissolve. It'd been a long morning and he had been running on one cup of coffee. That was not good. He'd been at the Council of Ricks’ offices to discuss new robes. He'd been desperate to redesign their uniforms for years and was finally given the opportunity. It was bittersweet, however, the head of the Council, Riq IV, could be a bit of a dick and Tailor couldn't quite work out if they'd get along or not.

Tailor picked up his drink and turned around as he started closing the lid on it. He didn't even notice the body that was standing directly behind him, and walked straight into it. His instinct was to apologise and move on, he wasn't one for confrontation. That was until he registered the heat spreading across his chest, which he soon realised was his coffee. His fresh, black coffee. Black coffee. On his suit. His white shirt. His baby pink suit jacket. Baby pink. Black coffee. His jacket... Thousands of pounds worth of jacket... Black coffee.

“What on earth are you doing, you bloody idiot!? Don't you see me standing here? Why are you standing so fucking close? Get the fuck away from me, haven't you ever heard of personal space?! Look at me! Look at my fucking suit! Do you have any idea how much this costs you thick skulled, absolute bloody wanker!?” Words just erupted from him without control. He could sense everyone around him staring but all he could focus on was the dark stain all over his front. He was livid. It was beginning to hurt, the heat from the coffee, but he didn't care.

“Uhh–” the other Rick started.

“Look! Th-tha-that's never going to come out! I hope you have your fucking wallet with you because otherwise we're going to–” Tailor finally looked up at the man he was yelling at, and stalled. “We're going to- um, you'll- we'll have…” he mumbled, his eyes glazing over as he took in the solid wall of muscle at eye level, the dog tags hanging around his neck, then the stern expression of the bald headed Rick he'd just lost his shit at. He seemed to be a military Rick. Of course, who else would Tailor have just called a thick skulled, absolute bloody wanker?

The Rick quirked a brow at him, waiting patiently for him to continue. Tailor cleared his throat, turned and tossed the remainder of his coffee in the bin behind him, and then arranged his face into a more composed expression.

“It doesn't matter,” he said, his voice smaller than before. He forced the next words from his lips despite it going against every fiber of his being. “It's just a suit.”

The bald, ripped Rick gave Tailor an odd look, sizing him up and analysing him. He had a large yet well groomed beard – no moustache – and numerous piercings. There was a plug stretching each earlobe and a stud above his top lip; Tailor would've turned his nose up if he wasn't worried about pissing him off any more. He squirmed under the attention, wanting nothing else but to run away from the situation and hightail it back home. That wasn't going to happen, it seemed. The Rick wasn't moving out of his way.

Feeling a need to fill the silence, Tailor spoke. “I apologise for my language. I didn't mean to cause offense.”

The other Rick frowned for a few moments, and Tailor felt his pulse pounding in his skull, almost giving him a headache. Suddenly, however, Rick smiled, then chuckled.

“I've heard worse, and from more intimidating folk, too,” he finally spoke, his voice not at all like Tailor had expected. He had a southern drawl, softer around the edges than he'd come to expect from most Ricks. It was still deep and a little gravelly, but he sounded… friendly? Friendly and extremely kind on the ears. “I'm sorry about th-that suit of yours. What d’ I owe you?”

He was reaching into his pocket for his wallet, and Tailor could do no more than stare. He was half expecting a swift punch to the face considering how he'd yelled at him just moments ago, and he was just stunned he still had all his teeth. He was also stunned at how opening his mouth had made him about twice as attractive.

“Um, that's quite alright. N-not to worry. I know a lady who- maybe she can get the stain out.”

“I don't know, black coffee sure is a son of a bitch,” Rick frowned, looking down at the stain on Tailor's shirt.

He didn't seem to mind about the splatter up his own front, but he was just wearing an off white wife beater. One that showed off just how thick his arms were, how toned his muscles were. He saw the edges of tattoos peeking out from over his shoulders; they must've covered his back. Tailor swallowed hard and averted his eyes.

“I don't want your money. It's fine,” he murmured, adjusting his tie, as if that was going to do something to make him look better.

“At least let me take you back to mine, get you out of that suit.”

“I'm sorry?” Tailor balked, his face immediately heating up, his eyes watering at the sudden pressure of the blood rushing to his head.

Rick smirked, clearly amused.

“I've got some detergent back at my place, su-supposed to be real good. If we get that shirt and jacket washed fast we might be able to save it.”

“Oh! Oh right. Of course. Yes, that's probably for the best.” Tailor nodded, instantly regretting his reply. He'd been so relieved to have his lewd misunderstanding cleared up that he hadn't really been concentrating on his own response. But there was no going back now.

“It's just up the street from here. Two minute walk!” Rick smiled, a lopsided kind of smile that was incredibly endearing. Tailor winced.

“Actually, I–” his sentence fell short and he sighed. Rick had already turned and was heading for the door, Tailor had no choice but to just follow.

Rick's home really was just a short walk away in an apartment block. It was pretty average, Tailor thought, and he noticed quickly that the place was lived in. It wasn't a complete pigsty, but it was far from neat and tidy. Tailor started to wonder what he was getting himself into, but he found himself just rolling with it. He agreed when Rick offered to make him a cup of coffee, he wasn't a huge fan of that instant stuff but he wouldn't complain, he still needed some. He took a seat at the kitchen table as he waited, brushing away a collection of crumbs from in front of him.

“You wanna take off that shirt and jacket? I can- I'll toss it in the wash.”

“Oh, yes, b-but it must be a gentle cycle,” Tailor warned, slipping off his jacket. He cleared the pockets of their items, leaving them on the table.

“Gentle?”

“Yes. Perhaps you have a delicates setting?” Tailor questioned, handing the jacket off to him. He was looking back at him with a blank expression and Tailor held back a sigh. “Don't worry. Whatever you usually put it on will be fine, I suppose.”

“You wanna borrow a shirt or something?” Rick asked, looking down at Tailor's shirt again.

Tailor hadn't really thought about taking his shirt off in front of this guy until now, and he was suddenly very nervous. Why on earth had he accepted this damn invitation?

“Um… yes. I suppose I should. Thank you,” he finally replied after a pause that was far too long.

Rick nodded and left the room for a while. Tailor groaned quietly, brushing his hand backwards through his hair to tame non existent flyaways, then he loosened his floral tie. He unbuttoned his shirt and was shrugging it off just as Rick returned.

“I tried to find somethin’ that might be to your taste,” he said, holding out a button up shirt to him.

The thing was creased up to hell. It looked like it'd been sat at the bottom of a drawer for God knows how long, but Tailor appreciated the effort. He swapped with him, and dressed in the borrowed shirt. It swamped him, given Rick was a lot more bulky than Tailor, and he found himself heating up in the face again.

He felt like some chick dressing up in her boyfriend's dress shirts. He'd never worn anything so ill fitting.

After starting up the washing machine, Rick placed a cup of coffee down in front of Tailor as he finished up buttoning his shirt; he left the top few buttons open, his own tie hanging loose around his neck. It smelled musky and faintly of cigarettes, it didn't seem to have been worn for a while, and Tailor wondered if it’d even been washed since the last time Rick had worn it. Oddly enough, the thought stirred something in him and he crossed one leg over the other, clearing his throat as he took a sip of his drink to distract himself. He burned his tongue, but didn't react.

“How's the coffee?” Rick asked him, looking at the spot where Tailor was resting the mug against his lip, blowing into it to help cool it.

“It’s fine, thank you. Coffee's coffee,” he said. “It's perhaps the one thing I'm not particularly picky about.”

“Huh? Is that so?” he replied, and Tailor caught the beginnings of a smirk as he lifted his own cup.

Tailor raised a brow, ready to question him, but decided to change the subject.

“You're in the military,” he stated. He'd noticed a few things laying around the apartment, photographs of him in uniform, with other Ricks in matching clothes. The dog tags around his neck were a giveaway too.

“SEAL team.” Rick replied. There was nothing arrogant about the way he said it, Tailor was surprised at how matter-of-fact he was.

“Well, then I feel as though I owe you an apology,” Tailor forced himself to say, lifting his head, holding his chin high.

Rick frowned. “What for?”

“For lashing out at you, calling you a thick skulled wanker, and so on.”

“You already apologised for that,” Rick pointed out, cupping his hands around the mug of coffee.

“Yes, well, I wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings.”

“Sir, I invited you into my home, washed your clothes and gave you some of my coffee. Does it look like there's hard feelings? Don't worry about it. Water off a duck’s back.”

“I meant no disrespect, if I'd have known who you were I'd never have dreamed about speaking to you in such a way,” Tailor admitted, avoiding eye contact. His face felt awfully hot.

“B-but if I was just some other Rick, some barista or store assistant, you'd have stood by it all?” Rick snorted, cocking a brow and smirking.

“Of course,” Tailor said, taking a sip of coffee. Rick chuckled, shaking his head.

“Fair enough. So what do you do with yourself? You look pretty fancy in that suit, must be doing well.” He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the washing machine.

“That suit is one of mine. I mean, I made it. I-I-I'm a tailor, a dressmaker, a designer.”

“Oh! I ain't seen you around the Citadel before.”

“That's because I don't work here. I was just meeting with the Council today, I'm working on some designs for them,” Tailor said nonchalantly, not even noticing the way the other Rick's eyes widened.

“You work for the damn Council? Holy shit, you are doing well.”

“The Council? I suppose it's a pretty high profile job. Though, I've worked for royalty back in my home dimension, so it's rather a step down.”

“You design the crown jewels or something?” Rick snorted. “I've never really heard of a British Rick. I know they're out there but you're the first I've met.”

“And you're the first Rick I've met with that lovely southern drawl,” Tailor replied, his tone lowering into a flirtatious one unintentionally. The other Rick blinked at him, his expression unchanging. Tailor quickly moved on, dropping his gaze to the mug. “I've made multiple dresses for her majesty the Queen, wonderful lady, absolute pleasure to work for. I've worked on suits for Prince Harry and William. Their wives have both worn dresses by me. Actually, I've been told to expect a call about a special commission for the Duchess of Cambridge.”

“Wow. You're a real hot shot, huh?”

“Well, I've worked hard to make a name for myself.”

“I believe that,” Rick nodded, his gaze lingering on Tailor for a few moments before he looked away. The two fell into silence for a while as they drank their coffee.

TBC...

[artificialqueens]

party chapter thirteen - shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - i know it’s been so long. in fact, it’s been about eight months. it became difficult for me to continue this fic after it coming under fire so much. i was told it was cheap and stupid and as a fairly young writer, it got to me. i lost all motivation.

but we were so close to the end. we were moments away.

it’s short. but this is how i envisioned it. i hope you enjoy, thank you so much to anyone who read this. it means a lot <3

Their cab ride back home had been spent in a relatively awkward silence. For one, it seemed as though Sharon was slightly more rattled from running into her ex than she wanted to let on. Her knee was bouncing, the bones prominent through the thin fabric of her jeans. Alaska just needed a moment to mull over what had just happened, from the encounter right up to the impromptu confession she’d made.

It wasn’t a big deal, right? That was what the whole debacle spanning several months had been about. Alaska loved Sharon. Sharon loved Alaska. It had, essentially, ruined a tour, Sharon’s health, and the peace of mind of nearly all of their friends. So it wasn’t a big deal, that much was clear now. They were in love.

And yet it still felt like one. Mark’s words rang in her ears incessantly.

You’re good at brainwashing people, Aaron.

Sharon wasn’t a bad person. A four year relationship and a friendship afterwards had cemented that fact in Alaska’s mind. But that didn’t change that Sharon had an ugly side, a darker side, beyond the one that was revealed under the influence of illicit substances. There was the side of her that was nihilistic, offensive, the side that didn’t give a shit because she didn’t have a reason to. That side of her was rare, but it still existed.

Surely Sharon wasn’t lying, though. They’d been through so much together. No matter how cheap and stupid it may have seemed, the hard times had brought them together. It had been a wake-up call in many circumstances, from relationships to just plain health. It wasn’t something Sharon could lie about.

As they walked towards the front door – Sharon having paid for the ride and taken hold of Alaska’s hand as soon as they stepped out – Alaska started to relax again. She was just getting stressed; it was natural after such a weird turn of events. To walk hand in hand in the streets of Pittsburgh, a city now infamous thanks to the pair of them, that in itself was enough to skew her mind a little bit. Mark and his stupid little mind games were just the cherry on top of the stress cake.

Sharon flung herself down onto her couch as soon as she got inside, too tired to even properly take her shoes off. Instead, she opted to kick and shake them off as best as she could as she sank into the cushions, pulling Alaska down with her.

“So, you just said you loved me.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did.” Sharon persisted. “I heard it. I heard it come right out of your little mouth.”

Alaska chuckled at the childish game. “You must have me confused with someone else.”

“Like who?” Sharon laughed. “Who could I possibly have you confused with?”

She pretended to think. “Hmm. A boa constrictor?”

“I prefer feather boas.” Sharon muttered decisively. “They’re prettier. I know I heard you, Lasky. I even said it back. Don’t deny it.”

“Well then,” Alaska replied smugly. “If you know you heard it, why do you need to mention it again?”

Sharon puckered her lips for a kiss. Alaska gladly obliged.

“To make extra sure.” She said. “You don’t think I spent so many months worrying about this not to double check it, did you?”

Alaska softened. “The worrying can stop, Noodles. No amount of ugly exes, past relationships or overdoses are gonna stop me from loving you. I’m not encouraging any of those things, but… they won’t stop me loving you the way I do. Things turned out okay in the end, didn’t they?”

Alaska knew the saying was ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’, but she wanted to change it. Stronger was perhaps a better word. They’d broken each other down and built one another back up again over years and years, and if anything, their hearts were stronger than they’d been before. More in tune than they’d ever been before. It seemed a break was all they needed, and that was all it had been; a break, not a break up.

The pair were comfortably silent for a while. There was no need to dive on top of one another, ravaging each other with kisses and sex and hickeys and everything that the love novels suggested. Rekindling a fire never encompassed dumping a bottle of gasoline and a box of matches onto the wood. Like a fire, it needed to be dealt with slowly, carefully, bit by bit until they got it right.

They had all the time in the world.

-

(7) New Messages

Willam: Alaska

Willam: Alaska

Willam: Goddammit you fucking snake why are you never awake when important news is breaking

Willam: good luck when you wake up bitch

Courtney: bill! This is serious!

Michelle: Not sure if you’ve seen Instagram and Twitter, but I’d hurry there if I were you. I’m guessing you’re not awake, but…

- Michelle Visage has sent a link –

It had been so comfortable, sat next to Sharon on the couch in silence, that Alaska wasn’t even aware the pair of them had drifted off until she suddenly awoke. Sharon’s hand was resting on her thigh, her head on her neck, and in Alaska’s right hand her phone flashed continuously. Stirring herself cautiously, so as not to wake up Sharon, she unlocked it and groggily read her messages.

Oh for fuck’s sake, she thought to herself. Not again. Why is it that the moment I’m happy, the moment anything good happens, something appears online?

A feeble part of her brain tried to convince herself otherwise. Maybe it wasn’t what she thought? Maybe it was just some snotty club cancelling one of her gigs, another article proclaiming Sharon to be a drug-obsessed Nazi – something standard and easy to brush off. There was a good chance it was another fan taking a stab at finding proof of ‘shalaska’, which again was fairly easy to ignore, if slightly amusing. Some of their theories were wild and some of them were, well, hilariously accurate.

Feeling a little blasé about the whole thing, Alaska opened her twitter. Nothing unusual. Mrs Kasha Davis spreading her positivity. A naked black guy with a gigantic cock, with a small ‘liked by Coco Montrese’ at the top of the photo. Katya spouting strangely ominous nonsense. Phi Phi interacting with fans. Ultimately, nothing seemed out of place.

She clicked trending. Various idiotic topics greeted her as usual. A sporting event, the resignation of a famous player who played… something, a funny hashtag about describing your boss with a movie title, and –

Oh.

That was what they meant.

Despite the words seeming frivolous, Alaska’s heart rate sped up upon reading them. #SharonNeedlesIsOverParty was one of the few trending topics, with a couple of hundred tweets about it.

Heart suddenly filled with dread, Alaska clicked. The first tweet, the most liked and retweeted one of all, was from an oddly familiar source.

Mark - @thatmarkman – Feb 1st

Imagine your already-shitty boyfriend leaving you to go date/fuck the ex that he abused #SharonNeedlesIsOverParty @SHARON_NEEDLES

-picture-

Enlarging the image, Alaska saw it was of herself – blurry, and from the back, but most definitely her. Her hand was entwined with the hand of somebody who hadn’t quite made it into the picture, but she knew was Sharon.

She swiped. This time the two of them were in it, still holding hands, at a side angle that would easily clear any doubts over the first image. Sharon’s side profile was abundantly clear, Alaska’s face almost fully visible. It was incriminating evidence.

angie<3 - @katyasbabyslut2004 – Feb 1st

WHY IS @SHARON_NEEDLES TRYING TO RUIN ALASKA’S CAREER JUST LIKE HERS >:( #SharonNeedlesIsOverParty

Ben||3 days - @delanoactzamomattel – Feb 1st

Wow i sure do love unstanning racist nazi cheaters! #SharonNeedlesIsOverParty

Victoria Ulgard - @trixyalaska49 – Feb 1st

Sum1 tell me this is photoshopped #sharonneedlesisoverparty

56 days - @adoorcilantrosplaid – Feb 1st

Feel like ive waited years for this damn hashtag to be a thing #SharonNeedlesIsOverParty #FINALLY

AB - @kimorasblackk – Feb 1st

Ew shalaska really? #gross #sharonneedlesisOVERparty

Leon :D - @leoshakesqueere1 – Feb 1st

Can someone explain whats going on omg i thought they broke up bc it was abusive?? #shalaska?? #sharonneedlesisoverparty

They went on and on, each one slamming Sharon, or Alaska, or both of them. A few were kind, clogging up the negative tag with positivity, but it did little to fix the issue.

Everything was now out in the open.

This was the last thing Sharon needed, and Alaska knew it. The recovery would be, and already had been, rough. It wasn’t going to get any easier anytime soon, and she didn’t need the added stress of seeing people going bananas over something that didn’t involve them. Sharon was more private than she liked to let on – this would only stress her out.

“Lasky?”

Alaska had been so caught up in scrolling through the madness that she didn’t notice Sharon stirring on her shoulder until the older queen spoke. She was squinting, her glasses having fallen off into her lap, and her brow was furrowed down at her own mobile.

“Why is Michelle texting me?”

A heavy sigh escaped from Alaska’s lips. She couldn’t lie about it. It was inevitable that Sharon would find out; she might as well deliver the news as gently as she could.

“…Your asshole of an ex told the world about us.”

She waited for the reaction.

After a couple of seconds of silence, Sharon nestled down into Alaska’s shoulder again, her eyelids still heavy from sleep.

She yawned. “Is that it?”

Alaska shifted her arm to pull Sharon closer to her, appreciating the calming warmth of having another body by her side. Sharon dropped her phone into her lap, not caring about it, and opened her eyes momentarily to gaze into Alaska’s.

“The thing is…” She began sluggishly, clearly still half-asleep. “It doesn’t fucking matter… ‘cause, I love you baby. ‘N you love me too. The whole world don’t have to love us.”

Within seconds of soliloquising, her eyes were closed again, her body growing heavier against Alaska’s. She sounded so sure, so certain, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It didn’t matter, she was positive. All that mattered was their love shared, right?

Alaska wasn’t as convinced as she wanted to be. “I don’t know, Sharon… this could have repercussions. It’s so soon…”

“Trust me, pumpkin… you lose a gig, I lose a gig… doesn’t matter. We’re famous ‘n involved in a scandal. We’re hot shit.”

The words were so painfully Sharon that Alaska couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe she was right after all. Logically, she knew it wasn’t going to get any worse than this. Mean tweets, or perhaps a rude comment, or something snotty on Reddit – that would be the beginning and end of their troubles. Of course Sharon’s overdose would remain a problem, but at the same time, the news was dying down. It seemed as though, when it came to Ru Girls, everything flared up for days and then dissipated again.

It was cliché. Beyond cliché. But that didn’t matter. Alaska switched off her phone, putting it face down on the coffee table and gently stroking Sharon’s hair.

Gigs didn’t matter. Mean comments didn’t matter. Unkind tweet and speculations didn’t matter.

What mattered was happiness, love and health.

Happiness. Only months ago, Alaska had expected she wouldn’t find proper happiness again. Confusion shrouded her mind from the obvious, pulling her away from her instinctive thoughts. She stopped following her gut and started following her head, knowing in the back of her mind that this was the same head that caused her self-depreciating thoughts. The head that caused the meltdowns, the tantrums, the angry fits that made her appear overly-competitive and petty. In hindsight, she needn’t have listened to her head. Her heart knew what it wanted. Her heart knew what it needed.

Love. That had been the difficult one. She hadn’t even wanted to recognise the way she was feeling, and had just silenced herself in order to keep up the illusion. In a hotel years ago, she’d decided to listen to her heart and break away – and in another hotel later on, she’d decided not to. For so long she denied herself the very idea; love doesn’t die when a relationship does. It had taken a while. And maybe, just maybe, it didn’t feel as explosive and all-consuming and fiery as it had when they were young, dumb and broke. Maybe, just maybe, the gentle warmth and softness between them, the delicacy of Sharon’s sleeping face and the weight of her body next to her, was enough. Maybe, just maybe, that was love too.

Health. Admittedly, they weren’t doing too well at this one. But it was a start. Sharon was starting to get better. The problem was acknowledged, and being tackled. After one of her many mood swings from angry to guilty, she’d told Alaska she was going to limit her cigarette intake. Originally, she’d decided to quit completely – a resolution that lasted all of five minutes before a craving struck her. Still, it was something. Drugs were out of the window and cigarettes were slowly disappearing. It was something. Progression.

It wasn’t perfect. They would never be perfect. Alaska would always be sensitive, a perfectionist, and prone to reacting negatively when things didn’t always go her way. Sharon would always want to find solace in a bar, to block out the bad feelings with a substance or two, and revert back to her old ways. They would never be perfect. And love certainly wasn’t going to fix that.

But there was nothing they could do to change the imperfections.

So, with as much blasé as she could muster, a brief imitation of her old old friend, Alaska smiled to herself.

Party.

[heather1815]

My little test subject: chapter 7

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, and Chapter 6

Angsty Tomtord fic with slight Paultryk on the side.

WARNING! This fic contains: Foul language, torture scenes, blood, use of medical tools, drug use, suicidal tendencies, self-neglect, violence, self-harm, and a little bit of stockholm syndrome and force feeding. Viewer discretion is advised.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Tord was leaned back in his recliner chair, feet propped up over his desk and gaze fixed on the ceiling fan of his office. His lips were pursed with both arms crossed behind his head in boredom as he suffered through one of Patrick's lectures. This time, the Polish soldier was pacing around the room and ranting on and on about his treatment in regards to Tom, all the while Paul watched the argument in the far corner of the room; fiddling with his fingers, gaze cast downwards and completely silent as if he was afraid to speak up. This might take a while.

"I can't believe you've done this! After I pulled you out of the room to talk privately, specifically told you about my concerns regarding his weight loss and to take it easier on him; you just went ahead and electrocuted him!" Patrick exclaims angrily, still pacing from one side of the room to the other.

Tord shrugged. "Oh stop exaggerating, Pat!" He sighed exasperatedly. "It was just a controlled shock; the voltage isn't even that high. He was clearly struggling against the two of you so I thought it would've been much easier if he were unconscious. No need to get your panties in a twist. Geez!"

"I don't care what you thought, because you clearly didn't!" Patrick snapped. "Tom is incredibly underweight for someone his size and age, this leaves him very frail and extremely weak. If we are not careful, we could accidentally kill him without even going through any of the procedures." He warned.

Tord blinked at him deadpanned, sitting straight in his chair. "Alright Pat, you got a point. I will go easier on him from now on." He sighed. "But if he steps out of line, I will discipline him if necessary." He warned, turning his chair to look at the mirror on his left, immediately running his robotic hand through his hair and fixing his fringe.

"For our sake Tord, I do hope so. Tom might be our last shot of success in perfecting the serum. If we lose him, the project you worked so hard on will be no more." Patrick states angrily. "I recommend we give him a special diet before the procedures, enough for him to gain back the lost weight and build up his strength to resist blood loss." He advised.

"Very well, you go on and do that. For now, we'll leave the serious experiments for when Tom has a full recovery." Tord says, still looking at his reflexion.

"I'm afraid my hands are full on this matter, sir." The soldier grumbles, causing Tord to glance at him through the reflection.

"Hmm?"

"With all due respect sir, you already put me in charge of taking care of his mental health. I am no psychologist, so I have to read everything and anything on the matter to accomplish this." He elaborated. "You, on the other hand, put yourself in charge of his overall health. If anyone should plan his diet it should be you."

Tord glared at him clenching his fists but sighed in defeat as he realized the soldier's words did have truth in them. "Fine, I will take care of his diet. You can go on with your lessons, just don't forget to check the test results for his blood and spinal tap." He murmured. "Paul, you and I will take test subject #1826 for some light physical activity tomorrow, so I suggest you come up with something for then."

"Yes, sir!" Paul saluted.

"Dismissed." Tord ordered, his back still turned to them but watched them leave his office through the mirror.

Once they left and Tord was finally alone, he dropped the authority posture and allowed himself to relax. What a busy day. He thought tiredly, walking to his chair and leaning back as far as it would go, stretching his limbs.

He opened his computer with a frown, typing in the password and gaining access to all of the base's personal files and reports. But he was not interested in any of that at the moment. He was currently more preoccupied in finding ways of recovering Tom back to his proper health.

I don't understand. How could he have gotten to this condition? He's barely just skin and bones, there is literally nothing in him. Tord thought worriedly, researching different sources and pages for the absolute best. Did he do this to himself? If so, why? I need to keep a close eye on his condition…

Tord's thoughts drifted into various directions and possibilities. For now, he will give Tom the benefit of the doubt that he just has a terrible sense of self-care, and hopefully, nothing deeper was going. But then again, he's dealing with Tom. There is also a catch.

He is hiding something, and if Tom won't admit it, then I will figure him out myself. He vowed silently.

(Later…)

Blurry images were flying through his mind, but they were so fuzzy he could barely make them out. Blood rushed through his ears, drowning out the noise; his heart hammering in his chest. Stop.

He could faintly see a few places that looked familiar to the depths of his mind. A park, an alleyway, the bar… a yellow house. Stop it.

Next thing he hears are screams; shrills of panic and horror all around him. He tries to understand what was going on but all he sees as his vision clears are people running away from something. He looks behind him but there was nothing there. He realizes then that these people were running away from him. Stop it!

He tries to plead for the people to stop, try and make them understand, but they just kept staring at him in horror. He clutched his head in distress. P-please no!

He hissed in pain when he felt something sharp poke his head. He was confused by this and slowly drew his hands down, only to discover that in place of his hands, he had sharp blood-stained claws instead. NO!

He thrashed and turned violently as he saw people get mutilated left and right. His claws seemed to have a mind of their own as they slashed through them mercilessly. I don't want this!

Blood and guts spilled everywhere. He felt immense pain coming from his jaws as his gums expanded and sharp teeth started to grow out of his normal ones. Something heavy swished behind him. A tail. His tail. He pounced on a frightened woman and tore her face off with his jaws, mauling her limb to limb. Make it stop!

But he couldn't stop it. He would never stop until the pain in his stomach finally ceased and his hunger for flesh is satisfied. His appetite has been neglected for far too long. A loud roar escaped his lips once his eye surveyed the bloodstained fields; no signs of life. Until he heard a gasp from behind him. No! No! No!

He turned around, slowly and rather clumsily due to his large size. Standing behind him with expressions of shock and horror were two familiar figures of a ginger and a brunet in hoodies. Something clicked in his mind at the recognition, but his stomach growled louder at the sight of them. Not them!

He crouched low on the ground, a growl rumbling through him as his eye narrowed at them. His huge claws raked the ground in anticipation. His mouth watered.

PREY.

NO! DON'T-!

KILL.

He pounced on them, claws raised and ready for mutilating as the two forms cowered away in fear. Next thing he knows; blood is soaking his form. His friend's blood.

"NO!" Tom shot up straight, sitting up in alarm. His eyes were wide and he started to pant for breath, trying to calm down from the adrenaline as he trembled in fright. He looked around frantic but was relieved to find everything he had experienced, for the most part, was merely a dream.

Tom breathed a sigh of relief, taking deep breaths to calm his rapid heartbeat. He laid back down staring at the ceiling. It was just a dream. Edd and Matt are fine. You did not hurt them, they are safe and sound back at home. The monster will never hurt them now.

As he gained back his bearings, Tom noticed the somewhat soft surface he was laying on top of. On closer observation he realized he was indeed lying on a bed. He looked around the place he was in. The room was plain gray with no windows or anything else really. Just the bed.

Last (night's?) events slowly but surely reappeared into his memory and he remembered how Tord played a stupid game with him before knocking him out via electric shocks. Tom huffed in annoyance. Dam commie. Didn't even have the guts to knock me out himself, he had to do it from a safe distance.

Tom noticed two doors, one positioned to his left; large and made out of steel, and the other in front of him at the far end of the bed. One must lead outside while the other was possibly a bathroom. Again, possibly… This is Tord he is dealing with after all.

Tom sat up again, his legs dangling to the side of the bed. He tried to get up when he felt a pull towards his wrist and a slight pain followed. Tom looked down and saw a thin, transparent line coming out of his sleeve. He pulled it up, the line going inside his veins. Tom followed the line, his eyes directing towards the rather large IV bag on a pole, connected to the lines.

"An IV?" Tom stared down at his wrist in confusion. They must've put that in while I was unconscious… right on my injured wrist too.

Tom didn't have much time to pull it off before the door to his cell slid open. Tom jumped in surprise, letting out a little yelp until he realized who was on the other side. The familiar silhouette of pointy hair was enough to tell who it was before Tord strolled into the room, a wide grin on his face and carrying a tray of, supposedly food with him.

"Good morning!" Tord greeted in a sing-song voice. Tom stared at him deadpanned, not saying anything just raising one eyebrow questioningly. "Hope you had a good night's rest, cause' today we have a lot to do."

Tom glared. Tord is never cheerful unless there is pain involved. Great. The Brit remained silent, crossing his arms and glaring at the other man. Tord's smile wavered at his behaviour.

"Ah, the silent treatment I see. Don't tell me you are still upset for me electrocuting you yesterday?" Tord says, earning a harder glare from Tom causing him to chuckle at their situation. "Really? Come on old pal, as if you were expecting anything different from me at this point!" Tord laughed, but slowly diminished as Tom remained silent and fuming. "Oh. So you are serious about this." Tord blinked in realization that maybe making fun of his only hope to get the serum done, especially when he is in such a condition, wasn't the best idea.

Tord sighed, clearing his throat. "Fine. Maybe I exaggerated and I shouldn't have been so quick to electrocute you." He apologized while avoiding uttering the specific words to his supposedly arch-nemesis. Patrick's words echoed in his mind. "As long as you don't try anything funny, I won't do it again. I promise."

Knowing this is the closest he will ever get to an apology coming from Tord, Tom dropped his arms with his glare turning to the tray of food the Norwegian was still holding in his hands.

"Anyways, I brought you breakfast." Tord simply says handing him the tray. "And please try not to take out the IV without proper assistance. I had it put in to help restore you back to health and I would hate it if you were to be stubborn about it."

Tom took the tray from him, setting it down on his lap. The food given was as simple as it could be: Just a bowl of bread chunks, a small dish of butter with a plastic knife, and a glass of water. Talk about generic prison food. But the food itself didn't really matter. Even if he were presented with a cheeseburger or a large, juicy steak he still wouldn't eat it. He can't risk getting strong again.

"I'm not hungry." Tom muttered, looking away while ignoring the pain in his stomach grow at the sight of food.

Much to his surprise, Tord laughed in response, looking down at him with amusement. "Patrick warned me you would use the same excuse twice, didn't think you actually would though." He stated. "To my knowledge, you haven't consumed anything in the last 54 hours. No normal human being can go on so long without any nourishment."

Tom inwardly grimaced. Dam, he is on to me. He glared up at Tord. "I don't have eyes, my parents are inanimate objects, and I currently have a super-potent serum running through my veins. I am by no means normal." He growled.

Tord shrugged. "True. But you are still human despite all of that, and you need to eat sometime." He says, nudging the tray.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "So what happened to the quality meal I was promised when taking your stupid deal?" He challenged, remembering the night Tord had come to him to hear his answer and told him of the things he would expect to get if he accepted his proposition. "If this is what you have for a quality meal, then I really don't wanna know what you have for your average one." He held a chunk of bread between his fingers, holding it up to his eye he inspected it.

Tord frowned. "I'll have you known that this is some of the finest bread that we have." He stated, somewhat offended by Tom's comment, as he held a lot of pride for his army. "And concerning the conditions of our deal, a change was in order." At this Tom put the chunk of bread down, looking at Tord curiously. The norsk sighed. "Due to your alarming condition I had to research and plan your diet carefully. So from now on, instead of two quality meals a day, you'll get plenty of small snacks once every two hours: Bread, protein bars, soups. Small but nutritious, and easy to consume."

Tom narrowed his eyes as his blank stare met with Tord's own gray one. He may know about his malnourished state, but he barely scratched the surface of Tom's condition; he has no idea what he is dealing with, and Tom plans to keep it that way for as long as he can. So until Tord addresses the issue directly, he will just play along.

Once again, Tord nudged the tray of food closer to Tom. "Well, go on and eat up then. When you are done, I'll escort you to the gym where Paul will be waiting for us." He ordered.

Tom looked down at the food in disdain. His stomach was growling but he went for so long without eating anything that he kind of lost his appetite due to his self-control. The chunks of bread didn't look particularly appetizing either.

Tord frowned, sensing Tom's hesitance to eat and figured he wouldn't do it on his own initiative. He sighed. "You know, there are still lots of questions you haven't ask me yet." He said, gaining the Brit's attention. "Tell you what: You may ask me any questions you want; I promise to answer them all truthfully. But for each question you ask me you will eat one chunk of bread in return."

Tom rolled his empty eyes, groaning in annoyance. Leave it to Tord to solve all his problems with a deal or a game. He has been for approximately three days in this stupid base and already he couldn't stand Tord or his methods. He vaguely remembers the Norwegian's ominous words from their last game. The right question? He thought. I do want answers, and I don't know when I'll get another chance to talk with Patrick or Paul on my own; or if they will even answer me then. Tom looks down at the bowl of bread on his tray, slowly lifting his gaze back to Tord; standing in the middle of the room with his hands folded behind his back.

Tom didn't want to give in just yet, his stubborn side rising within him. "And what if I refuse?" He challenged, crossing his arms and folding his legs; careful not to let the tray fall from his lap.

Tord frowned at him. "If you don't eat, then I guess I will just have to make you." He spoke, icily calm. "And believe me Thomas, I have many ways to make you do whatever I want. I am just being nice and giving you the chance to choose to do it the easy way or the hard way." Tom wasn't fooled by his calm demeanour. Tord was practically radiating anger, he just kept it in check. Tom scowled but sighed in defeat, knowing better than to argue further at this point. "So what's it gonna be?"

Tom stared at the ground, adverting his gaze. "Fine. I'll take your offer." He muttered.

Tord smiled, regaining his posture. Good, he is learning. He thought, pleased with the result. Maybe one day he won't resist me anymore and just do as I say without protest. Hopefully.

"You may begin whenever you are ready." Tord declared, straightening his back and clasping his hands together.

Tom narrowed his eyes, remembering his previous questions and the information he learned in response. He scratched his chin and hummed.

"Alright, uhm, I assume we are currently in your army base or something…"

"One of many." Tord put in. "This one is actually my main base, and the largest of all of them. Do keep going."

Tom raised one eyebrow. Geez. How many bases does he have in total? And why so many? He thought of asking, but he shook his head. Focus. One question at a time! I can't eat too much so I have to think carefully about my questions.

"Well, if this is your main base, then how come I barely see anyone around here?" Tom asks. "I mean; I saw a few people wandering through the halls when Patrick first escorted me. But how come I only seem to interact with the three of you and no one else?"

Tord grinned, moving to lean on the wall next to him while crossing his arms. "The serum project is a highly confidential plan only accessible to higher ups and with my permission. It is a very delicate procedure that I would very much like to keep it hidden from any form of unwanted attention." He explained, an edge to his voice. "So, to prevent unqualified assistance or possible traitors to get close to my last shot in this project, I made it perfectly clear to my soldiers to stay away from the lower area, which is the entire floor you reside in and we perform our experiments. Any members of the red army found wandering about the halls of this floor without direct permission from me will be-"

"Killed?!"

"Punished." Tord finished, his grin turning into a sour frown. "I may be trigger happy, Tom, but I wouldn't kill my own soldiers for a little bit of rule breaking." He paused, contemplating his thoughts. "Well… Unless they annoy or piss me off, and break the rules far too often; in which case they lose their value and become easily dispensable. And this project is a very serious issue, so now I am not quite sure what I'll do if someone were to come down here and find out…"

Tom felt an involuntarily shiver run down his spine at the sound of that. He began to wonder what kind of punishment Tord delivers to those who break the rules. Knowing how sadistic the Norwegian man could be, Tom wouldn't be surprised if it involved medieval torture methods; or at the very least some finger chopping or back whipping. And how exactly would he dispose of the "dispensable" soldiers? Tord's favourite method of killing has always been guns, but again, he is a sadistic f#ck; he most likely wouldn't settle for just a simple shot in the head. Tom's gaze drifted down to Tord's synthetic hand, currently rubbing his chin in thought. Another shiver ran down his spine. Something told him that cold, metallic hand held a lot of deaths in its grasp. And he suspected it wasn't only by choking either.

"Regardless, you will only interact with Paul, Pat, and I throughout the whole experience and no one else." Tord declared, brushing off his previous thought.

Tom snapped out of his thoughts. "So your soldiers-"

"Ahem." Tom was abruptly interrupted by Tord's obnoxious throat clearing. The Norsk was looking down at him expectantly, but Tom just stared back in confusion. "Eat." He ordered, motioning to the tray.

Tom looked down, realizing what he was expected to do. He inwardly grimaced, not feeling up to eating anything at the moment, or ever for that fact. But if he didn't, Tord would force him to do it regardless, and he doesn't need the humiliation of having the commie force-feeding him against his will. It's just best to comply.

Tom surveyed the contents of the bowl, careful to pick the smallest chunk possible. He raised it to his eye level to inspect it. The bread is brown and white with grains in it, soft to the touch and yet held a certain hardiness to it near the border. Gingerly, he stuck his tongue out to give the bread an experimental taste. Tom clicked his tongue. Tastes like bread alright.

Tord watched him in amusement and slight annoyance, doing his best to keep from giggling out loud. He debated whether he should just tell him that the bread held no drugs or poison in it, but held back. Tord decided he found Tom quite adorable when he was suspicious and wary of things.

Tom stared down at the piece of bread for a moment longer before popping it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, and rather hesitantly as he rolled the bread around his mouth with his tongue. It crunched beneath his teeth, the grains making themselves apparent. The taste was rather bland. But to Tom, who hadn't eaten anything for so long he barely remembers the last time he did, the bread tasted divine in his mouth.

Still, he did not let it show he enjoyed. "Not bad." He mumbled while still chewing.

When the chunk was gone from his mouth and descended down his throat, Tom still felt the bread taste on his tongue. He held the urge to lick his lips. His eyes unintentionally fixed back on the bowl, and his hand was ready to take another chunk but he quickly reframed from doing so. His hand twitched and he clenched into a fist in response. Stay under control. He reminded himself.

Although subtle, Tord took notice of the hand twitch. Looking at Tom's facial expression he could detect a hint of hesitation, as if he was struggling with himself. Tord raised an eyebrow in interest. Hm, seems as if he's having some trouble in containing himself. Not sure if this is his stubborn side refusing to actually enjoy something I am giving him, or something else entirely… He contemplated, rubbing his chin. I'll order Pat to have a session with him tomorrow; today if possible, and see what he can figure out.

Tom managed to repress down the urge to eat more, for now, until he could ask more questions. "So how did you get your army?" He blurts out. "Did you actually get followers or did you blackmail them into joining you?"

Tord just shot him a sly grin. "I earned my soldier's respect fair and square. They approved of my way of thinking and agreed to join the cause. My cause." He declared with pride, placing the palm of his robotic hand over his heart. "Of course, I started only with a handful of soldiers; Paul included. But overtime we recruited more members to join us, and that's when Pat came in. I never had any use to blackmail anyone."

Except for me, you dumb bastard. Tom silently added, scowling. "But how did you manage to recruit more members without being tracked or found out by the authorities?" He questions. "Like, with you being wanted and all I guess it's safe to say you didn't just go out in the open to demand more members or anything. So you probably had a strategy for this sort of thing." He pointed out, recalling the time he was walking down the street with the keys of his newly-bought apartment twirling on his finger when he found the wanted poster.

No matter how much time seemed to pass since that incident, his mind somehow always drifted to the catastrophic events of that day. Sometimes he wondered what would've happened if he had never found that poster. Would Tord have turned his rage on Edd and Matt instead? Or would he have left peacefully?

Tord's grin widened. "Very clever Tom, maybe you aren't as stupid as I thought you were." He purred in delight, motioning with his hand to the bowl once more. Tom got the memo right away and took a small chunk of bread; eating while he listened to his answer.

"Yes, I had to work around the issue with the authorities in order to expand my numbers. So we were very careful when selecting our members; only choosing those who held special skills and stood out among the rest." Tord explained. "But overtime as our organisation grew we became more open to members, but still careful in our selection to make sure we don't get any spies or undercover cops. So now we have a new system of selection."

"Which is?" Tom questioned, glancing sideways and taking note of the small tray of butter to accompany his meal. He gingerly grabbed the plastic knife and proceeded to swipe it over one piece of bread.

Tord smirked. "Our pub of course! It turned out to have more use for the army aside of just financing our organisation." He exclaimed. "We keep an eye out for frequent clients; the ones who seem miserable and have a reason to come so often. One soldier goes to them undercover, gain their trust, gets info on them, and we offer them a place in the group. If they refuse, we erase their memories from the event; but most cases they are willing to abandon their lives for this new style."

Tom swallowed another chunk of bread, rolling down his throat with great difficulty. It's been a while since he last did this. He grabbed the glass of water and took a sip, still paying attention to the details.

"But it's not just the pub that we use. All soldiers are equipped with fake names and identities so that they may interact with the outside world whenever they want. If they were to stumble upon a person of interest that fits in with our requirements, they are offered a place as well." Tord went on, seemingly not minding in giving away even the most secretive of details regarding his army. He held a lot of pride for his hard work and wasn't afraid of showing it. "Most of the people who take our offer like to delete their previous lives, either by hacking the systems or just simply faking their own deaths; taking entirely new identities as their own and committing themselves fully to the army."

Tom looked up at him. "So your soldiers are basically dead to the world." He concluded grimly.

As much as he disliked Tord and everything he stands for, including the whole army thing, he can't really blame the people for joining him. They must've had their reasons for abandoning their lives. Sure, there could be the occasional communist prick like the leader himself, but what of those people that were in a similar predicament as him? Depressed and lost. Maybe they were in the brink of death before a second chance showed up to them. Tord and the army could be bad but maybe it was the only chance these people had of living.

Tom shook the thought off his head, repressing it down. No person associated with the army deserve his sympathy no matter what their reason was. Himself included.

"Does that mean they all live in the base? Or bases, considering you seem to have more than one." Tom mumbled, taking another sip of water.

"Most of them, yes. But there are those who still hold on to their everyday lives. Think of them as the ones who have a foot in each world. The blissful ignorant world of today's society, and that of the red army's." Tord continued. "They work mostly as spies; feeding us any and all intel they may acquire during their outings, then sneak back to the base and report everything. Most of these types of soldiers have a lot of use to us with their positions: Doctors, bankers, and especially cops."

Tom nearly choked on his drink, but managed to place the glass down and swallow the liquid before it could take effect in his lungs. Tord had a lot more power than he initially imagined if he had undercover soldiers working in important positions. Even if by some miracle he were able to escape, Tom would never be able to go out again; else he will get easily tracked down and just brought back. Heck, after learning this tad bit of information can he trust anyone else ever again? After his experience with the pub, definitely not.

"Are all of your soldiers just that? Soldiers? Or are there different positions?" Tom asks, calming down before glaring daggers at the norsk. "And what about children? Do you take them in as well? I bet you brainwash them in following your messed up ways you sick, communist, bastard-"

Tord pursed his lips, narrowing his eye as he raised one finger to silence him. "Despite what you might think of me, Thomas, I do not take in children. Never had, never will. Only individuals above the age of eighteen are allowed to join. Sure there are some smartasses who think they can fool us into believing they are above the age, just because they think being in an army sounds cool. But our system never failed to detect them, and we erase their memories from the event. But we do keep a tracker on them for future reference." He explained, standing up from his spot against the wall; walking closer to Tom. "And yes, we do have other positions in the army: Doctors, nurses, scientists, engineers, cooks, cleaners, etc. Not all of the people we take in share the same enjoyment as me in going on a killing spree. Anything that can benefit the army in any way possible."

Tom followed his movements as Tord got closer to him. He was baring his teeth into a scowl and his eyeless gaze set into a glare. Tord stopped, towering directly over him.

"I believe those were four questions, so… Eat up!" Tord pointed out.

Tom growled. "I don't feel like eating anymore." In a sudden burst of defiance, he shoved the tray of food off his lap; splattering the remains on the floor. His gaze not once leaving Tord's.

On the other hand, Tord was fuming silently, anger boiling up inside of him ready to burst. He felt the urge to hold Tom in a choke hold in order to teach him a lesson for his defiance. His hands clenched, ready to lash out when Patrick's words echoed in his mind, reminding him of his predicament. Tom is his only and last shot, as much as he hates to admit it. And he can't be too rough on him or he will get damaged in his current state.

With this in mind, Tord takes a deep breath to calm down. He smiles down at Tom, taking him by genuine surprise.

"Tsk tsk, oh Tom, always making a mess of things." Tord cooed, shaking his head.

He extended his robotic hand out towards Tom, making him flinch and try to lean back; but at the same time, he didn't want to show signs of weakness and urged to stand his ground. Tord leaned closer, his hand just inches away from his face. Tom kept his gaze fixed on the Norwegian's single gray eye, completely still.

When they come in contact with each other, Tom grit his teeth and grumbled in irritation. The robotic hand ran through his hair and ruffled him. He hated the touch, it felt like Tord was possessive of him somehow. But strangely enough, it felt affectionate as well. Tom almost leaned into the touch if it weren't for the fact he kept reminding himself as to whom exactly it was ruffling him in the first place.

Tord grinned. "Well, I am glad you took such an interest in my line of work. I hope the information I provided you with was enough to change your mind about a few things." He murmured, still running his robotic fingers gently through Tom's messy brown locks. "Overtime, who knows? You might actually start seeing us as your friends. Maybe even your family perhaps-"

Tom grabbed the robotic hand firmly, halting it in its tracks as he glared up furiously. Tord stared down at the dark sockets, surprised by the rage fuelling behind them.

"Forget it, commie!" Tom snarled, pushing the hand away from him. "I might be your little test subject for your sick experiments, but I am most definitely not part of your stupid army. You are not my leader, and neither are you or anyone else around here my friend." Spitting out each word, Tom shoved him away, making Tord almost stumble back.

In the action, Tom took note how almost effortlessly he managed to shove the other one away. He hadn't felt this strong in a long time. It felt good, but at the same time he knew it was bad news.

Tord recovered from the move, staring back at the brit wide eyed. For someone who is so underweight, he sure is strong. He regained his composure, fixing the collar of his uniform while throwing a little smirk in Tom's direction. "Whatever you say." He chuckled, making Tom fume.

Tord cleared his throat, turning his back to him and sliding the door to the cell open. "Come along now." He glanced sideways back at him. "We have important things to get to. The sooner we go, the earlier we get things done."

Tom grit his teeth and rolled his eyes. "Joy." He muttered in annoyance, following Tord out the room. "Can't wait to see what kind of torture you'll put me through first."

"Oh, you'll see."