#i am low key waiting for another surprise from the gang

[notskam]

“[..]That you learn how to tie a tie. Just kidding. I don’t wish for shit. Just that everything is just as now”.                                    

                                 HAPPY         NEW         YEAR!

[saturnsummer]

worthy.

When Sol gets a GPA of 2.02, the study group (and Joon Hwi) comes together to cheer her up. 

notes: another prompt by @thenerdywriter ! i wasn't sure if you meant it like this, but i hope you are satisfied! thank you for your prompt and your trust! i do apologise for the wait!

not much fluff or cliche romantic scenes, but just simple things that i hope when you read, remember your worth and never be defeated. you are worthy, loved and deserving to be appreciated. :) inbox always open!

for anyone who have sent prompts and asks, i thank you for your ideas! i have read through all your asks and am so excited to begin writing, but please understand if i can’t reply you as fast as i hoped! so sorry for this, i’ll try to address my inbox faster!! any mistakes or incorrect information will be taken responsible by me. enjoy!

edit: everyone, please don’t cry on this omg I’ve made 5 people comment their tears now and im terribly sorry for the tears.. I meant for this to be a light hearted story but looks like everyone is crying,, I’ll try not to make people cry now..

original prompt: where joon hwi and the rest of the gang shake some sense into her (sol a) about her self-esteem. 

words: 2787 words

Sol is downstairs at the lounge, holding a clear bottle of soju. She takes another swig from the plastic bottle, hoping that the alcohol can numb her heart like it does to her head. It burns, and she’s turning woozy, but she grumbles and takes another swig. 

2.02. She’s passed, at least. But she can’t help but feel upset. She wasn’t upset that she couldn’t score as well as Yeseul or BokGi, but upset that she’s satisfied with these low results. No one is going to hire her, even less offer an internship while looking at her track records. 

Sol worked her ass off for this exam. She nearly died, if it wasn’t for Yeseul’s reminders to eat. Even her cold stoned face roommate bothered to place bottles of water on her desk. Yet, after all this... 

“Why are you still up?” She hears Joon Hwi ask as he takes a seat next to her. She stays silent with a grim expression and turns away. Joon Hwi was the last person she wanted to see, especially when she’s in such a bad mod. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks as he catches her arm just as she’s about to chug her soju. 

“Everything.” She slurs. “You know I’m not even upset with my GPA? I’m upset of being happy with my shitty grades.” Joon Hwi sighs, attempting to grab her bottle away.

“I should have never came to study. I should have never tried to prove myself to be Dan!” She scolds louder. Sol knows she’s drunk in front of her best friend, but she can’t control herself. She doesn’t care. 

“Kang Sol...” Joon Hwi stands up, grabbing her bottle away from her. “You’re drunk. Go back.” 

“I don’t belong here, anyway.” Her slurs catch Joon Hwi in his steps. 

“I never once belonged with any of you. Being with all of you just drags you all further. I should just stop burdening you all with my questions and rot in a corner. Besides, no one would care.” She softly says, her voice filled with regret and guilt. 

Sol has always felt this way. Ever since she was young, Dan was always the star child. She got top grades while Sol got through in the middle rankings. Dan was always more popular, prettier, smarter. Sol learnt at a young age that no matter what, she would always be overshadowed by Dan. 

Thus, she learnt to be quiet. Only ask questions when she really needs to. Stick to familiar people. Only be loud when told to, and blend in in every situation. She learnt to depreciate herself, because no one appreciated her in the first place. 

Joon Hwi wants to shake her. He wants to write an entire dissertation on why Sol belongs to Hankuk. He wants to show her what he sees: a smart, caring, passionate lawyer-to-be. He wants to show her what he sees when she testified for Professor Yang in court. A confident, woman knowing her morals and rights.

“Kang Sol.” Joon Hwi says, pulling her up by her wrist. Sol pushes him away, but her touches are sloppy and weak. Sighing, Joon Hwi knows that it is useless to argue about her grades and her worth when she’s not even half conscious of what she’s doing. 

He grabs her coat lying on the couch, finding her phone and plans on calling Yeseul. But it’s past 1am, but he doesn’t want to trouble Yeseul. Sighing, he contemplates calling her roomie but reality smacks when he realises she’s home. Noticing how Sol is slowly nodding off, giving in to the fatigue, it leaves Joon Hwi not much of an option to carry her back.

Fishing the room key out from her coat, he takes special care in carrying her, sweeping his arm under her knee and lifting her slowly as to not disrupt her from falling asleep. The key card is in between his fingers as he slowly and quietly makes his way up to her dorm. He thanks the deities above that no one caught him or interrupted him. 

Tapping the key card, a standard ‘beep’, he pushes the door with his back, and takes care to get him and her into the dark room. He can barely see anything, especially since he has no hands to on the lights, but he makes out his way in the small room using the moonlight and what he can tell. 

Joon Hwi knows which side Sol sleeps, knowing from her stories that include her rolling from the bed up to the desk. By now, Sol was sleeping soundly, a slight snore escaping her. Gently, he sets her down on her bed and reaches to take her shoes off for her. Hanging up her coat that he placed on top of her whilst he was carrying her, he finally pulled the thick blanket over her.

But he didn’t leave just yet.

“I never once belonged with any of you.”

Sol’s words echoed in his head more than he thought it would. He stopped and bent down silently by her bed side, taking a few moments to wonder to himself just how and why does she feel so unworthy.

He grabs her bottle of water from her bag, before putting it next to her phone, which is on the table. Knelt on the floor, he observes the slow rise of her chest and the way her eyes flutter and nose twitch when Sol sleeps. Just how can someone like Sol think she’s any less than what he sees?

“You belong here in Hankuk. I’ll show you just why.” His whisper barely audible, as he brushes away a stray hair on her face. With that, he takes his leave and sneaks back to his dorm. (Without getting caught)

-----

The next day, after two painkillers and a big bowl of hangover soup (left mysteriously by someone at their pantry), Sol is headed to study group. She is running a few minutes early than their scheduled timing, but she’s surprised to find the group huddled in hushed whispers. 

“What are you all looking at?” Sol asks, as she sets her book at her usual corner opposite Joon Hwi. BokGi lets out a startled yelp and Yebeom clamps his mouth shut. Sol isn’t surprised to see Jiho crowded there, but is even more shocked to see Sol B crowded with them too. If it was anything, Sol B wouldn’t crowd around and discuss things, unless it concerned herself, or benefitted her grades.

“What...” Sol leans over and raises her eyebrows. Yeseul’s eyes dart nervously and she breaks into a smile. The rest of the group just shuffles back to their seats murmuring under their breath.

“Nothing, unnie! They were just discussing on what to order for lunch.” Yeseul says as she walks over to Sol and takes her bag and books from her, before setting it on the table. “Unnie, shall we get coffees?” Yeseul escorts her out of the room before Sol could react. Sol assumes that it’s due to her hangover that Yeseul is suggesting coffee, thus just following and getting a cold brew and assorted drinks for the others. 

When she returns, they distribute the drinks and start discussing on what to study. 

“Noona, do you have anything?” BokGi asks, a little too enthusiastically. Sol is taken aback and lost for words. She usually just follows whatever the rest want, since answering her questions will take hours. Joon Hwi gives a sympathetic smile. 

“How about you share with us about a recent case? Remember the one that Professor Kim liked in particular?” Joon Hwi suggests. Sol grows quiet. Her? The worst student? Sol let’s out an uncertain laugh.

“Ah, me? I rather my roomie shares. She did better than me.” Sol says, then prepares a fresh document for note taking on her laptop.

“I didn’t do well.” Sol B says quietly, her eyes emotionless as usual, leaning back into the chair. “You did the best. Go on.” Sol is stunned and just nods uncertainly. Taking out her case notes and her reports that she submitted, she nervously discusses the topic on hand. She sneaks Joon Hwi a couple of questioning stares but he only pretends to not catch her eyes.

Everyone is enthusiastic, asking questions and when Sol is stumped, they jump in to help her. They suggest ideas and Sol has never felt so energised by their energy before. She find it fishy how Joon Hwi just sits back and she can feel him smiling whenever she makes a point right or figures out a missing link.

An hour later, when they are done expanding on Sol’s case and discussing, they break for a late lunch together.  Yebeom enters the room with bags of food, as usual over ordering. As they pass out containers of jjampong and jjajamyeon, Sol’s eyes light up when she saw the only thing that mattered in the whole order: her beloved pickles, in doubled servings. 

What Sol doesn’t expect is for JiHo to dump his packet of pickles on her container of noodles. 

“JiHo-ah, why...” Sol is dumbfounded for a moment as JiHo opens his pack of noodles to stir. JiHo only pushes up his glasses. 

“You can have them, noona.” Sol is even more dumbfounded. This was the first time JiHo has called her noona. She didn’t care for the honourifics, and JiHo could call her by her full name for all she cared. But hearing those words from Seo JiHo’s mouth, just made her think everyone was utterly suspicious today.

“Okay, everyone is being weird. What is this?” Sol announces, hoping her tone came out fun, with no hints of anger. 

“Nothing! We just know you’ve been feeling stressed, so JiHo decided to give you his share of pickles, right?” BokGi quips up, as he dives into taking the sauce to pour over the tangsuyuk, before Yebeom and him argue over pouring or dipping. 

Sol, still feeling suspicious, breaks her chopsticks just as Joon Hwi picks up a pickle from her plastic saucer to put on her noodles. Her eyes dart from his chopstick to his face, but he just nods at her pickles, expressions hard to read.

Sol crunches on her pickles, but it does nothing to soothe the feeling that everyone was aware of something, but her. 

-----

The rest of the week was a puzzle piece that Sol could not fix together.

She woke up everyday to a new message by Joon Hwi, sometimes sending her funny videos, or a simple “let’s get through this together”. She woke up once to her roomie handing her breakfast and coffee. It just didn’t click in Sol’s head to see the cold Sol B hand her a sandwich and coffee.

Their group chat was undoubtedly noisy, but even more so now. Something in common was how the more chatty ones would ask Sol for advice or chat and strike noisy conversations. She was used to the chaos, but she definitely didn’t feel used to having the attention on her.

As the group had earned different internships from small and large firms, Sol was going to be left in school alone, still applying and hoping for one to come her way. Her study group knew about it, and instead continued to encourage her about it. They avoided talk on their internships, and actively tried to help Sol. While Sol was grateful, she couldn’t help but wish that they would just act normal and not worry about her.

She chose to meet them for breakfast on the day of their internships. The meal was noisy as usual as they ate their sandwiches and gimbaps. They were dressed smartly in their suits with their briefcases. Sol made a fuss over everyone looking smart on their first day.

“Hurry up and eat, you’re going to be late for your internship!” Sol scolded BokGi as he and Yebeom threw comments back and forth. Everyone was off for theirs and ready with their jackets and bags. Walking with them to the door, she couldn’t help but feel like a mom to her kids, sending them to school.

“Noona! Check your table later in the libra-” Yebeom gleefully mused before BokGi clamped his mouth shut and JiHo (with much irritation) smacked his head silently.

“What?” Sol asks, turning to Joon Hwi, who was turning redder by the second. Joon Hwi closes his eyes, the same way he does when he’s embarrassed and looks away from her.

“Listen to Yebeom and check the table.” He says, finally looking at her. “We’ll see you for dinner then.” Waving a quick goodbye, the group walked away from her towards the carpark where they separated to the bus stops or in the direction of the train station.

“O-Okay…” she mutters, still confused as she carries her books and bag to her usual table at the library. She would have went to sulk at Professor Kim’s office for a while, but she instead chose to head straight to study. Professor Kim had enough on her plate and she wasn’t ready just yet to face Professor Kim with her mood.

There, at her table, lies her stack of books.

Normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Huffing out, she slumps her bag on her table, gathering the post its on the bar above the table. Most of them were just plain comments, like how she had to stop slamming her pen into her hand (it distracted students) or move out of the library cause there aren't enough seats. Opening her book on civil code, she was ready to start drilling her head before meeting Professor Kim. 

Then she spots an envelope, hidden between the pages of the book.

Carefully, she picks it out and looks on the cream white paper, the only ink on it her name, written in neat handwriting. She could recognise Joon Hwi’s handwriting anywhere. A slight scoff escapes her lips and several students turn in annoyance. Realising that this was probably not the best place to be in, she grabs her books and bags (and the post its) and leaves the library. She heads to the empty study room, where she knows she’s be comfortable at.

Opening the flap, she slips out numerous slips of paper, varying degrees of length and sizes. Some words were neat, some were a little messy.

-----

To: Unnie <3

Sol-unnie, you know you’re smart, right? Your grades may not show that you are the best, but I know you are! Whenever I hear you discuss a case with the study group, I know you’re trying your best to memorise and improve. Don’t give up, unnie! I will support you till the end!

- Yeseul 

To: Sol-A noona

Yah, noona! You have to stop injuring yourself, okay? You gave us a really big scare the last time when you started nose bleeding in the midst of study group. Noona, don’t look at your grades anymore! If a man like me can get through law school so far pretty well, you can too! Fighting, noona! 

Noona~ you’re really talented. The fact that you scored so well during the criminal law test and managed to spot the comma just shows for amazing you are! Noona, don’t be discouraged... seeing you discouraged makes us sad too. Your favourite dongsaeng is here to help you! 

- BokGi and Yebeom 

To: Kang Sol-A

You can do it. Review your cases before classes. Get your internship.

-JiHo

To: Sol-A

Live up to your name, will you? And sleep on a regular schedule. 

- Roommate

To: Sol

Sunbae, remember me? Stop doubting yourself and trust yourself. You’re smarter than you know and fit for court. I will support you from wherever you are. I’m grateful for you, for supporting me all this time. I think Dan would be proud of you, and so will the cookie Byeol. 

Sol, you are worthy in my eyes. So stop undermining yourself. You belong in Hankuk next to me. You can’t give up now.

-Joon Hwi

-----

Sol lets a smile creep on her face as she lets a small blush rise to her face. Holding her letters to her heart, she closes her eyes, reminding herself of the past week and her friend’s efforts to cheer her on. She knew no doubt it had to be Joon Hwi who convinced everyone there to write for her despite their busy schedule. For even Sol B to help out and bother about her, it warmed her heart to have her support.

Picking her book, she pinned her hair up as she started drill into her book with a new found confidence, fuelled by her friends supporting her. But most importantly, she felt worthy. She felt loved. She felt confident. She was hopeful.

(Everyone thinks she’s worthy in their eyes, but one just thinks she’s perfect.)

[its-deputy-caleb]

hellllooooo amigo

so I was wondering if you could write a lil fic about Micah mentioning his birthday is soon but not expecting anyone to care about it but then the reader surprises him with a present and Micah’s like :O

I’ve had this idea stuck in my head for the past week lmao but if it ain’t your thing or if you’ve done something similar before then don’t worry about it my g :)

howdyy amigo <33 so i had all these good ideas and then i was writing and the creative block hit HARD so i high key hate this and its a mess but i hope i pulled through in the end and i kinda went a little off topic but oops enjoy anyway :0

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

You never really gave a thought to Micah’s birthday. Not because you didn’t want to celebrate it but simply because he never mentioned it to you. It wasn’t really a tradition to celebrate a gang members birthday although the group would never pass up a chance for drinking. Mostly those celebrations were reserved for big scores.

For some of the special members of the gang however, there were celebrations. On Dutch’s the whole gang would practically feast and party for the entire week and for Miss Grimshaw Javier would perform while Sean gave a right old toast. Dutch even insisted on a party for Molly and you laughed at Karen and Mary Beth who whined the entire night about “Miss fancy pants needing her own royal party”.

Of course even for the other members you’d notice when it was their birthday. You’d seen when close friends of Arthur leave gifts beside your own at his tent and for Jack’s birthday John and Abigail tolerated each other enough to spoil the boy with gifts surrounded by family.

That’s why you thought it was rather odd when Micah, your sweetheart never told you about his birthday. You thought he may have damn well forgot it when you overheard him one night with Bill.

He was mumbling into a bottle of whiskey, half on his way to passing out when he mentioned he was getting too old with another birthday coming up in a few days. Of course the bastard wouldn’t tell you, for all his boasting he’d never been one for parties or celebrating.

So with that in mind you spent the rest of the night formulating a plan to at least celebrate his birthday between the two of you.

-

You’d learnt from Bill the next morning, who wasn’t nearly half as drunk (or hungover) as Micah that his birthday was in exactly three days.

So that left you with three days to formulate just how you’d surprise the man you’d come to love so dearly for his birthday.

Coming up with a celebration was relatively easy— he wasn’t one for crowds, he enjoyed your company and only yours alone and he loved a good whiskey so naturally you’d take him away from the gang’s camp and head down to the Dakota river for the night.

It was finding a good gift that had you tearing your hair out. It was hard trying to find something that would be personal enough for Micah to appreciate when the man in question held few personal belongings, and naturally a new revolver was completely out of the question.

-

You decided to give up on your mission to find him a gift after nearly chewing Swanson’s ear off for singing while you were trying to think and rethink your gift.

So with a new formed headache you headed into valentine to purchase a nice and rather expensive whiskey for tomorrow night.

On your way out of the general store you noticed a beautiful Dutch Warmblood horse trot into the stable behind his owner. The horse had a large white spot over his leg and it couldn’t’ help but remind you of Baylock.

Bingo.

Smiling to yourself you put the whiskey in your saddle bag and walked into the stables to buy Micah his birthday gift, one you’re sure he’s going to love more over any new jacket or gunbelt.

-

Micah’s day went about relatively normally for the most part, waking up together with a kiss and a coffee but you couldn’t help be slightly more affectionate than usual.

You’d spent most of the day together, Micah talking with you while you did chores and you talking with him while he (reluctantly) sat on guard duty. All the normal things about the day went on and you kept your secret until the sun was just about to dip over the mountain.

Micah was leaning against a tree, sharpening his knife when you came up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You played with the ends of his hair, taking in the sight of him as he holstered the knife and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’ve got something for you.”

You leant forward and placed a soft kiss to his cheek, smiling against his skin at the curious sound he made.

“Hmm? You sure that something isn’t right here in front of me sweetheart?”

You giggle softly as Micah tries to pull you in closer for a proper kiss, deciding to indulge in his wishes for once. It was his birthday after all.

Pulling away from the surprisingly tender kiss, you give him a gentle smile as you untangle yourself from his arms.

“Common, let me show you.”

You take Micah by the hand, almost dragging him to the other side of camp by the horses which drew the attention from a few of the gang members but you didn’t have a care in the world as anticipation grew.

Leading him over to Baylock who is newly saddled, you watched as Micah stared blankly at it before tentatively bringing a hand up to feel over the soft premium leather.

The saddle was all black to match Baylock’s coat with white inlay in the seat and silver on the horn. All of it was the finest quality at your request and even the bedroll was a finer cotton than most.

Micah couldn’t help the smile that broke out onto his face and he turned to you looking like a kid on Christmas.

“You get this for little old me?”

Your own smile matched his as you wrapped your arms back around his neck once more.

“Well I thought since you’d never ever want another revolver and there isn’t much more you love than those guns and Baylock that you’d want a new saddle for him.”

Micah brought you in for a tight hug after that, managing to lift you slightly as you clung to him for dear life. He looked up at you from your new position.

“Sweetheart there ain’t nothing I love more than I do you—“

He sets you back on the ground, leaning in for a kiss but letting your noses bump and your foreheads touch.

“—worth more to me than any ol’ revolver, I love you.”

You close the gap between the two of you, melting into each other as you feel just how much Micah is in love with you.

“I love you too Mikey, and happy birthday— do you like it?”

The look you give him is one of hope and he can’t help but nod and wrap his arms tighter around your waist.

“Course I like it, but yer didn’t need to pay for this. Looks real fancy.”

Micah looked over the saddle once more, his eyes beaming as he saw how well it complemented Baylock’s coat. He was impressed, of course by the gift but because you had cared enough to get it for him and it only confirmed the feelings he had for you.

“Who says I paid for it?”

You saw Micah smirk at your comment and give a low evil laugh.

“That’s my sweetheart I know and love.”

Of course this time you had paid for the saddle, one of the few items you were willing to pay for but that didn’t mean the two of you didn’t steal practically everything else.

You pull away from Micah and hoist yourself up onto Baylock’s saddle, holding your hand out to a very confused looking Micah.

“Common you, I’ve got a nice bottle of whiskey and two glasses waiting for us.”

-

Down by the river you and Micah were perched up on a large rock that was floating in some shallow water by the river bank. You’d hidden the glasses and whiskey in a tree and the two of you were now laughing together as you drank through it slowly.

Your head was resting under his chin while his arm that wasn’t holding his glass was draped over your shoulder. The moonlight reflecting off the water was more than enough for the two of you to see as he topped up your glass for you.

“Gosh so how old are you now?”

Your words were light and charismatic, the two of you giggling about all sorts of things that night. Micah looked up in contemplation, humming as if he was trying to remember.

“Ehh must be close to forty now— thirty nine I think.”

You whistled, only to cut yourself off with a small laugh as you raised the glass to your mouth.

“You are getting old Mr.Bell, the next thing you know I’ll be able to outshoot you.”

“Sweetheart you can already outshoot me…”

Despite the lighthearted tone of the conversation, you noticed how Micah got uncharacteristically quiet.

“Micah? Are you alright?”

You sit up to face Micah, noticing the flush on his cheeks which wasn’t the fault of the whiskey and the way his attention was on sloshing the liquid in the glass.

“I am gettin’ old sweetheart, at least in terms o’ outlaws—“

“Micah what are you saying?”

You stare at him confused, completely unprepared for what he says next.

“— ‘m saying that i love you and yer the only one I’d ever wanna grow old with.”

Your eyes widen, in fear? in hope? You weren’t quite sure, maybe it was shock at the fact Micah Bell had said he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

“B-but I thought you didn’t want redemption!? I thought you never wanted to leave the gang, this life!”

Micah shakes his head, putting down your glasses and taking his hands in yours as he squeezes them to reassure himself more than anything.

“I didn’t— I don’t. Oh hell I don’t know what I want but I would throw it all away for you, if its what you wanted.”

He seems to regain some of his confidence after a deep breath and he waves his hands in front of you as he tries to formulate what he wants to say.

“Ya’know have a house and all that…”

You smile gently, your heart melting at the thought that Micah would give up everything for you. You lean forward, taking his hands and threading your fingers before kissing him.

The kiss depends as you momentarily forget where you are and you both start to let your hands wander lower over each other until Micah knocks the glass of whiskey over.

Pulling back from where you’d almost crawled on top of him, you smile sheepishly and sit back down on the rock. This time you sit between Micah’s legs so his arms can rest in your lap and his head can rest on your shoulder.

“Well a house and all that can wait since I’m perfectly happy growing old with you robbing and thieving our way across the plains.”

Your head rests against his own as you feel him litter soft kisses over your shoulder and neck.

“Sounds like something I could get used to.”

Micah whispers his words against your skin and the two of you enjoy the peace and each other’s company. Your hand gives his own a reassuring squeeze, letting your eyes close as you relax and listen to the sound of the river flowing.

“As long as I have you and get to celebrate a hundred more birthdays with you, I’ll be the happiest person in the world.”

Micah squeezes your hand back, sitting up so you could get comfortable against his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head.

“Not sure ‘bout a hundred but you have me for as long as this world lets me darlin’”

You hum sleepily, getting closer and closer to sleep as you listen to his gravelly voice.

“Promise?”

“I Promise”

[voidmakyr]

Call me anyway (Bucky Barnes x F!Reader)

This is set in the TFATWS 3rd EP.

You are a former Flag Smasher living alone in Madripoor. You quit the gang some time ago. When the winter soldier stands in your door one night, you expected to be killed. But this wasn’t your end. It was the start of something that nobody saw coming. 

Warnings: smut, swear-words, (sexual) persuasion.

A/N: As always, english is not my first languagge. I am way too lazy to proof read. I really wanted to do something for Zemo but I just can’t get over Bucky? 

You tossed your keys down the hall table and stretched. You changed into a pair of boxers. It was another hot night, and as you pulled out the futon, you really wished the air conditioner were still working. You turned the box fan on and fed your cat. As soon as he’d polished off his fancy feast, took up pacing in front of the sliding glass door to your balcony.

Lightning flashed and you went over and slid back the glass door, moving the screen into place. You’d leave the thing open for only a little bit – the night air smelled good for once. Not a whiff of the usual garbage of madripoor.

You ducked into the bathroom. After brushing your teeth and scrubbing your face you ran a washcloth under some cold water and rubbed the back of your neck. Cool rivulets ran down your skin, and you welcomed the shivers as you walked back out.

You frowned. Something wasn’t right…

You went over to the glass door and you saw that your cat had sat down on his haunches and was purring as if he were welcoming someone he knew.

What the…

The man from last night was on the other side of the screen. You leaped back and dropped the washcloth, dimly hearing the fleshy flop when it hit the floor.

The screen slid open.

You panicked, but found you couldn’t move. You knew this man. He was called the winter soldier.

Oh, man, he really was handsome. He was tall and with your apartment being small to begin with, he turned it into a shoe box. He looked even better than the photos you‘ve seen. Dressed in black with dark hair and matching brown eyes. He wore gloves despite the heat.

Wait a minute.

What were you doing, measuring him for a suit? If this really was the winter soldier, there was no time for staring.

Running, you should be running. You should be making a break for the other door, running like hell.

But all you could do was stare at him.

You craned your neck to look up at his face.

God, he was gorgeous.

He must be coming to kill you, you thought. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve a hit, but the longer you looked into his eyes, you could barely remember where you were.

You body swayed as he closed the distance between them. You were terrified of what was going to happen when he reached you, but noticed, absurdly, that your cat was purring and wrapping himself in and around the mans ankles.

That cat was a traitor. And if by some miracle you lived though the night, the cat was getting downgraded to mediocre cat food.

Your neck jacked back up as you met the man‘s steady, feral gaze. His stare burned.

And then the extraordinary happened. As he stepped in front of you, you felt a blast of pure, unadultered lust. Your body got wickedly hot. Hot and wet.

Your core bloomed for him.

It was chemistry, you thought numbly. Pure, raw, animal chemistry.

Whatever he had, you wanted.

„Don’t be afraid, (Y/N). My name is James. I wanted to ask you some questions“, he said.

His voice was low, a deep rumble in his solid chest. He had the sliver of an accent you couldn’t place.

„What questions?“, you breathed in a whisper.

„About your friends. The Flag Smashers...“

Dizziness made you reach out for the wall.

„Karli? Why..“ Confusion closed your mouth. „What do you want from them?“

His metal hand crossed the distance between your bodies and he took your chin between his forefinger and thumb. He tilted your face to one side.

„Are you going to kill me fast?“ you mumbled. „Or slow?“

„No killing. Just answers.“

As his head bent down, you told yourself you should fight him off in spire of his words. You needed to Gotthold arms of yours working, your legs, too. Trouble was, you didn’t really want to push him away. You took a deep breath.

Good heavens, he smelled fantastic. Fresh, clean sweat. A dark, masculine musk.

His lips hovered over your ear. The leather of his jacket creaked as his chest expanded.

„You are not one if them,“ he said softly, „not anymore, right?“

God, this had to be what people talked about when they waxed poetic about sex. You didn’t question the need to have him inside of you. You only knew that you were going to die if he didn’t take his pants off. Now.

You reached out, curious to touch him, but when you let go of the wall you started to fall. In what seemed like on motion, he turned around and caught you easily. As he swept you off the floor, you leaned into him, not even bothering to put up a pretense of fighting. He handled you as if you were weightless, crossing the room in two strides.

When he laid you down on the futon his dog tags fell forward, and you lifted your hand, touching the metal. You lifted your hands higher, touching his dark hair. They were thick, soft. You put your palm on his face and though he seemed surprised, he didn‘t pull back.

God, everything about him radiated sex, from the strength in his body to the way he moved to the smell of his skin. He was like no man you‘d ever came across before. And your body knew it just as clearly as her mind did.

„Kiss me,“ you said.

He hovered above you, a silent menace.

On impulse your hands went to the lapels of his jacket, and you tried to pull him down to your mouth.

He captured both your wrists in his metal hand.

„Easy.“

Easy? You didn’t want easy. Easy was not part of the plan.

You struggled against his hold and when you couldn’t get free you arched your back.

Your breasts strained against your Shirt, and you rubbed your thighs together, anticipating what it would feel like to have him between them.

If he‘d only put his hands-

„Sweet Jesus,“ he muttered.

You smiled up at him, relishing the sudden hunger in his face. „Touch me.“

The winter soldier started shaking his head. As if he were trying to clear it.

You opened your lips and moaned in frustration.

„Pull up my shirt.“ You arched again, offering your body to him. „Do it.“

His eyebrows were drawn tight, and you had some vague thought that you should be terrified. Instead, you brought your knees up and lifted your hips off the futon.

You imagined him kissing the insides of your thighs, finding your core with his mouth. Licking you. Another moan boiled out of your mouth.

——

Bucky was dumbfounded.

And he wasn’t a man who got struck stupid very often.

Holy Shit.

You were the hottest thing he’d ever gotten anywhere near. And he’d cozied up to a lightning stroke once or twice before.

You groaned again, your body undulating in a sexy wave, your legs opening wide. The scent of your arousal hit him hard as a body shot. God, he would have been sent to his knees if he hadn’t already been sitting down.

„Touch me“, you moaned.

Buckys blood pumped as if he were in a flat-out run, his erection throbbing like it had its own heartbeat.

„That’s not what I’m here for,“ he said.

„Touch me anyway.“

He knew he should say no. This wasn‘t fair to her. And they needed to talk. He had questions about... what again? Maybe he should come back later in the night. Try again.

You arched up, pushing against the hand he‘d clamped around your wrists. As your breasts strained against your shirt, he had to close his eyes.

Time to go. It was really time to go. He would check back with Sam and Zemo and just come back later, or tomorrow, or-

Except he couldn‘t leave without at least having a taste.

Yeah, but he was a selfish bastard if he laid one finger on you. A nasty, selfish bastard to take any of what you were offering without knowing who he really was. Dangerous, murderous, broken... a monster.

With a curse, Bucky opened his eyes.

Man, he was so cold. Cold down to his marrow.

And you were hot. Hot enough to make that ice go away, at least for a little while.

And it had been so long for him.

He let your wrists go.

Your hands grabbed his jacket, trying to push it back from his shoulders. He wrenched the thing off, and as it hit the floor with a thud, you laughed with satisfaction.

Bucky bent down over you and captured your lips with his mouth.

This time, when you thrust your breasts out, he got rid of his gloves and slid his normal hand under your thin shirt and onto your smooth, warm skin. Greedy to know the rest of you, he peeled your shirt off and tossed it aside.

Your breasts filled his palms, your nipples tight buds underneath the soft satin of your bra.

Buckys control snapped.

He let out a hiss and latched onto one of your nipples with his lips, drawing it into his mouth. As he drew circles with his tongue, he shifted his body and stretched out on top of you, falling in between your thighs. You absorbed his weight with a throaty sigh.

Your hands came between them as you reached for the front of his shirt, but he didn’t have the patience to let you undress him. He lifted up and ripped the material off his body. When he came back down, your breasts hit the wall of his chest and your body surged under his.

He wanted to kiss your mouth, but he was way past anything soft and gentle, so he worshipped your breasts with his tongue and then moved down to your belly. When he got to the waistband of your boxers, he drew them off your smooth legs.

Bucky felt something in his head pop as your scent reached him in a fresh wave. He was perilously close to orgasm, already. His release poised in his shaft, his body shaking with the need to take you. He put his hand between your thighs. You were so wet and hot that he growled.

Crazed though he was, he had to taste you before he invaded you.

He pressed kisses over your hips and across the tops of your thighs. Your hands tangled in his hair as you urged him exactly where he was headed.

He kissed your softest skin, drawing your core into his mouth, and you came over and over again for him until he couldn’t fight his own need any longer. He pulled back, shrugged out of his pants, and covered you with his body once more.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, and he hissed as your heat burned his erection.

He used what was left of his strength to pull back and look down into your face. Waiting for your okay.

„Don’t stop.“ you breathed. „I want to feel you inside me.“

Bucky dropped his head into the fragrant hollow of your neck. And slowly drew his hips back. The tip of his erection slid into place beautifully, and he sheathed himself in your body with one powerful stroke.

He let out a bellow of ecstasy.

Heaven. Now he knew what heaven was like.

____

You eased into consciousness slowly. It was like surfacing from a perfectly performed swan dive. There was a glow in your body, a satisfaction as you emerged from the buffered world of sleep.

„You are beautiful,“ he whispered.

His mouth came down on hers. But he wasn’t looking for anything. The kiss was not a demand. it was closer to a thank you.

Somewhere in the room, a cell phone went off. The ring wasn’t yours.

He moved so fast you jumped. One moment he was by your side; the next he was at his jacket. He flipped open the phone.

A flip phone? Weird.

„Yeah?“ The voice that had told her you you were beautiful was gone. Now he growled.

You pulled a sheet around your chest.

„Give me ten.“ He hung up the phone, put it back in the jacked, and picked up the pants he‘d been wearing. His metal arm reflected the tiny lights coming through the blinds.

The threat of re-dressing brought back some reality. God, had you really just had sex - really, really good, mind blowing sex - with the winter soldier?

„James... You are the winter soldier, right?“, you asked.

As he pulled black leather up his thighs, you caught a terrific shot of his ass.

„Not anymore. Don’t be afraid.“

When he sat down next to you, „I‘ve got to go. I might not get back tonigh, but I‘ll try.“

You didn’t want him to leave. You liked the feel of his body taking up more than its fair share of your bed.

You reached up to him, but took your hand back. You didn’t want to seem needy.

„No, touch me,“ he said, bending his body down, giving you all the access you could ask for.

You put your palm on his chest. His skin was war, his heart surging in an even pump.

„I need to know something.“, you said softly. „What the fuck do you want from me, if you’re looking for the flag smashers?“

He smiled a little, as if he liked your swearing.

„Are you trying to stop them?“, you asked.

„Yes, but-“

„Get out. I am not helping you.“ You stood up and put your clothes back on. There was no way, you were going to be a snitch. Even if you were no longer part of the team.

„(Y/N), they have... we need to stop them. They are dangerous.“, he said while looking to the ground. He didn’t seem to confident about that.

He now stood in front of your door to the balcony. Slowly you opened the glass door, took a look outside then went back to your bed.

„Because of the serum.“ You said calmly.

„You know about the serum?“

You laughed. „I don’t just know about it.“ You positioned yourself and got in a strong stance. You smiled. „I got it.“

With one forceful kick to his chest, Bucky got pushed out of your room. He could barely grab the railing to not fall eight down on the street. In front of him the glass door closed, big metal bars flew from the top to secure the entry even more. The blinds closed and he couldn’t see you anymore.

He couldn’t remember the last time he was taken by surprise. It wasn’t pleasant. When he looked down on himself, he saw a little piece of paper in the small pocket of his jacket.

It was a phone number.

XXX-XXXX-XXXX „Call anyway.“

[soullessmocha]

i think; therefore i am || part two

{ fem!witch reader x poly!the lost boys }

|| part one ||

part rating: general

word count: 4,340

part summary: after the encounter with the ruthless gang of vampires on the board walk y/n finds themselves keeping their distance from the boardwalk and doing business other places. a choice of a movie night brings she to encounter a new suspicion and familiar faces. even then they have to embrace her action after coming face to face with one of the daunting vampires.

warnings: use of magic, witchcraft, vampires, marko being sweet, david being a prick, and late night encounters. 

A bell rings in your ears as you push your way through the colorful door into the buzzing video store. The music reverberates from the speakers above your head and the smell of floor cleaner invades your nose. The upbeat store gave you some relief from the stress from the past couple of days. Since the encounter with the creatures of the night, you have been avoiding the boardwalk hustling around near the city or keeping your distance in the more unknown parts of the boardwalk. You trail your way past the front desk where all the registered rested admiring the acrylic frames not paying attention to the man with neat hair and glasses that watched your figure pass by with curiosity. A low hum left your nose as you tuned in with the words of La Bamba. The first section you instantly hit was the comedy section, your black-painted fingers trailed over the spines of the VHS covers with precision as you tried to make your decisions. You snatch the case for Ghostbusters. As you do you could feel eyes burning into the back of your head. You carefully turned around to see where your intuition was taking you. Yet it was only the woman behind the counter with big curly hair and an off-shoulder top. Her stare was rather curious. People do stare a lot when you walk into a place. That doesn’t mean it is out of negativity, you guess it’s purely out of curiosity. Your style can be so polar sometimes but this time you wore a pair of bootcut jeans and a flowing black poet's top that was paired with heeled boots. The accessories are what you think to draw people’s attention with the stacked sterling rings, the crystal earrings, and a large ornate belt such as you were wearing today to cinch the waist of the flowing shirt.

Her eyes scan over your outfit, eventually coming to your eyes, you make eye contact and give her a knowing nod and a smirk before turning back around. Pressing the movie against your chest, tapping a rhythm on the plastic with your fingernails as you make your way to the horror section taking your time. The music mixed with the soft sounds of TVs caused your senses to buzz from a sensory overload. You squat to the ground and carefully graze over the horror section, there wasn’t much to the collection but there were some decent picks. A sigh left your nose as you reached out to pinch Cujo’s spine between your fingers. As you do a wet substance appears on your cheek. You whip your head to a tan shepherd sniffing you and your hair. A jolt in surprise at the sudden appearance of the dog, your heart races for a minute before a smile cracks along your nude painted lips. The dog pants and sits patiently waiting for you to pet him. 

You chuckle at pat the dog’s head, “There you are Thorn! I am so sorry. He has a habit to sneak up on customers when they’re down so low.” You look up to follow the mysterious, yet harmfully charismatic, voice and it was the man who was standing at the front counter when you walked in. With your hand still petting the hound named Thorn, you stand fully to greet the neat man. “Oh no! You’re okay, he did give me quite the fright but he is too cute. His good looks made up for it.” You beam at the mysterious man. As you adjusted the movies on your side you saw his hand shot out, “I’ll take those for you. Assuming you want to keep looking for more movies to watch tonight.”

You chuckle lightly and hand the two movies out to him, “I think this will be all tonight, thank you, erm..” You trail off trying to see if he wore a nametag on his blazer but there wasn’t one.

“Max, my name is Max,” he introduces with a charming smile that would make any woman swoon if they had the weakness too.

“I am guessing you’re the Max that’s on the name of the store. Well, it is wonderful to meet you,” you greet back with a welcoming smile. Your eyes scan his face, looking over every faint crack and freckle on his face. Once your eyes met him there was an unsettling feeling that grew in your stomach. One you knew all too well. 

“Well, then! Would you like to check out for tonight, ma’am?” He asks motioning his full hand of the VHS’ towards the counter.

You swallow and give a curt nod. As you walk you could feel Thorn brushing against your leg as you did. This made you more cautious of what the dog might be if the dark energy pulsating from the man would be. You rested your hands gently on the counter and stood as still as a statue but you tried your best to remain relaxed in the situation you were granted. There was something wrong with the owner of the store and you knew how well he was masking it. His haughty get-up of a loud button-up shirt and neat tie was something you couldn’t get past.

“So I’ve never seen you around here!” Max’s voice booms through your line of thought causing your head to whip up to face him. 

“Yeah, I’m just passing through. Couldn’t help it when I saw the boardwalk. It’s a wonderful sight,” You reply with a passing smile before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear acting bashful and shy.

“It is quite beautiful. But you got to be careful here, it’s not the safest place for a young woman like you.” He advises as he scans the barcodes of the cases before popping them open to double-check if there was a VHS in them. You caught his eyes trailing over you, his warm and welcoming eyes now something of a dark glower. His eyes changed though once he noticed you staring back at him.

“Oh, thank you, Max, for the warning. But I got it.” You reassure and reach back into your back pocket to fish out the money clip that you kept. As you pull it out the front doorbell trills to announce another customer has entered. 

You didn’t look up as you fingered through the bills to find a ten-dollar bill through all the ones. The low rumbling from Thorn by your ankles is what caused you to cautiously lookup. You look up to see the four vampires from a couple of nights ago walk into the store with such confidence it could’ve convinced you that they owned the place. Your eyes widen a bit and your fist clenches the ten-dollar bill making it more wrinkled than before. 

The leader only smirks at you as swaggers his way through the store. Following was the dark brunette with daggers for eyes then it was the two blondes. The fishnet-clad one looked at you with caution while the curly-haired one looked at you with an expression of curiosity and wonder. His golden curls were pushed back into a low ponytail this night that draped over his ornate jacket. You could feel he wanted to approach you and that he wasn’t hostile. Unlike the others. Out of your surprise, you try to match their energy of fierceness.

“I thought I told you, boys, you aren’t welcome here,” Max barks at them, his voice sounded so gravely and polar to the appealing one before. 

The leader snaps his eyes to the owner of the store and his smirk drops, the smirk turned into a frown for a split second. His eyes trace it’s way back to you, “Relax, we just wanted to check out the new features you got in here.” The platinum blonde clarified as the rest of the boys behind him scatter through the store murmuring to themselves and messing with some of the VHS covers.

Max glares at the platinum blonde before turning back to you, “I’m so sorry about the mess in here,” 

You couldn’t help but crack a smirk at the hit at the group of punks. You tilt your head at Max to shake your head, “No problem, they’re only looking for a feature for the night.” You comment flicking your eyes to see if the leader was still glaring at you. He wasn't, he was off looking through the horror flicks while the other three were flirting with the tanned woman behind Max. You place the ten down on the counter and swiftly grasp the two movie boxes. “Thank you, Max, I’ll see you soon,” you bid goodbye with a nod being careful not to trip over Thorn as you make your way to the door.

“Oh! Ma’am, rental lasts five days!” Max calls out to you as you were already halfway out the door. You pause and turn back to him, tapping your rings around the metal door handle. “Thank you,” you thank the owner, but your eyes switched to the four who were watching you with sharp eyes. Each feline in its own way.

Your feet carry you quickly to your red truck where you unlock the door from the keys that were attached to your hip. Getting in and slamming the door shut your eyes never left the five figures as you pumped the clutch and set the vehicle in reverse. You only tore your eyes away when you turned to look behind you to see if there was any oncoming traffic. Yet when your head swiveled back to the front you saw the ragged punks standing in front of the store by their bikes. The thing that caught you off guard was the little finger wave the monarch decorated gave you with his most feigned sweetened smile. The sight gave your stomach a fuzzy feeling and your head to buzz. “Time to make a circle,” you grumble to yourself speeding off into the night.

Later that night you cast a protection circle around your little caravan that you claimed to be your home. It sat on a sigil etched into the soft earth below the sanctuary. Casting it drained you that night, it had been a while since you had to cast around an area that was relatively large. It surrounded the shelter along with the little pathway you created with stones. 

Exhausted, you lay on your bed facing the little compact TV as Ghostbusters entertained your drained mind. Finn rested perfectly into your side watching the movie as well. His tail swaying in amusement. His mewl caused you to roll your eyes as the green slime ghost floated through a wall after slimming one of the busters. “It’s only a movie, Finn, it’s for entertainment purposes. Are you going to do this with every movie I bring home? How about I put in Cujo instead?” You suggest acting like you were going to get up and fetch the movie from the living area. Finn was quick to put his paw on your abdomen to stop you. You smirk at the short-haired feline, “That’s what I thought. Now just enjoy the movie.” You swear you saw your sassy familiar roll his eyes at you. A huff leaves your lips and you plant your ring decorated hand on his side patting him which turns into short pets as you bring your focus back on the movie.

A moment later you started to hear the continuous tick on the roof of your caravan. It wasn’t supposed to rain. So what the hell is making that sound? Your brows furrow as your head tilts back to hear another tick. Silent beat, tick. Finn meows at you and starts to stand on the cushioned bed arching his back to stretch, “Gee, my savior.” You gibed at the black feline as you shuck on your shawl over your silk nightgown. Approaching your door you inhaled deeply, there was someone outside. Instantly your circle was warning you. The energy beamed around it causing a rhythmed pulse around your home. 

Slowly opening the door a pebble fell at your feet. You reach down to grasp it and trek your eyes to dirty brown boots. Your eyes graze up the figure, leather chaps over denim, then the jacket that was so decorated it was an enigma itself. The jacket hovered over a white wife beater crop top, then on the shoulder deeply curled golden locks.

You don’t say anything, you're frozen, staring at the vampire in front of you. “How the hell did you find me?” You hiss with interrogation laced in your voice, but the vampire doesn't budge. In fact, he looks scared a bit. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his decorated jacket. His spine hunched the slightest making him seem smaller as he waits for an opportunity to talk. The expression doesn’t fool you, your eyes are still as sharp as ever. You step down from your home as your eyes start to glow purple and your hands spread as purple shadows form balls in your palms.

The cautious vampire takes a hesitant step back, “I followed your truck.” He answers with wide attentive eyes. 

“Why did you follow me? Did your friends ask you?” You postulated with a tight tone. His only response was a shake of his head. Now you were getting annoyed. “Then why are you here?!” You growled which caused him to jostle just the slightest, taken aback as the purple wisps grow in size with your glowing eyes joining.

“I came to ask for my gloves and ring back,” Marko states straightening out his posture and fixing his tone to sound more confident and demanding. You blink at him lowering your hands just slightly. “Did anyone follow you?” Your query, quirking your eyebrow up searching his deadpan features for answers.

“No,” he responds bluntly, keeping still against the sea breeze that thrusts its way around the two of you. You listened to the whispers in his head, it wasn’t hard to penetrate. He was being open. The realization caused you to drop your hands to your sides. He knew you were going to look through his head to see if he was telling you the truth. Marko really didn’t have anything to hide. The boys didn’t even know he was there. You saw him tell them he was going to grab a bite to eat.

“Alright, give me a moment.” You grumble turning back into the caravan. Marko rustles towards the edge of the circle. His clear eyes trailing over the circle with symbols inside of it. He reached out but was blocked by a sheer purple field. Marko pulled his hand back in a hurry. “It’s a protection circle.” You inform him with his fingerless gloves in the palms of your hands. You picked them up. You don’t know why you did, something urged you to take them back with you. What was the universe trying to tell you? You approach the edge of the circle only a foot away from the vampire. “No one can enter unless I grant them, no matter what being.” You unfold your hands to reveal his weathered gloves and a golden ring in the middle of them.

You pluck the ring, it was heavily made of solid gold with a comet on it. Your eyes linger on it trying to figure out the symbol and what its meaning could be. “Ain’t it pretty?” Marko asks, examining it with you outside of the waves of purple energy. You nod, “Yeah, it’s a nice ring.” You compliment the accessory, you could feel the history off of the object. It had seen so much, but few owner’s which made you hesitant to look deeper into the history of the gold ring. 

“You know what the comet means?” 

You shake your head peering back up to Marko. It was strange how calm you were now and how cool and collected he was.

“It’s the Dragon Order. Providence of the Romanian Boyers. The Dragon Order was dedicated to the destruction of the Turks. They were killed by the tens of thousands. Do you know how?”

You shake your head once more, eyes wide with curiosity.

“They were impaled on rounded wooden stakes left in the fields to rot.” Marko grins as he answered his own questions, his voice full of amusement as if it was an inside joke. You could only chuckle at the significance of home wearing such an accessory. 

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.” You shook your head as a smile grew on your lips. Your eyes scan the ring once more before placing it back into the middle of the gloves.

“I wasn’t either when the bastard told me that story,” he bewailed with his brown eyes glued to the signet. You purse your lips together and reach out with one hand extending. As you reach out the purple sheen carefully separates from your hand allowing you access to reach out to him. Marko pulled his hands out of his leather jacket and gently grabbed the gloves to fold over the ring. As he took it from your hand his touch lingered behind. The touch sent electricity through your nerves which caused you to move your hand away fast. Marko gave a smirk at you as he slipped them back on. “Thanks,” he mumbles and slips the ring on his pinky finger, he runs the pad of his thumb over the comet then drops his hands to his sides. 

You tilt your head at the action watching his expression carefully, you tried to read him but you were shut out once again. Marko flicked his eyes to you, “You’re welcome, Marko.” You whisper back, folding your arms over your chest so the shawl granted a shield against the night winds. Marko bit his lip with a bob of his head, his eyes raked over you once more as he took a few steps back. There was an urge in you to speak up. It punched at your diaphragm for your voice to come out and speak. Speak to him, the whispers rang.

“Marko! I’m sorry!” You call out to the blonde as he was partially down the hill. He stops in his tracks and turns on his heel, his expression clearly showing confusion. You tilt your head to your feet, “I didn’t mean to hurt you during the reading. That wasn’t my intention.” You state, your voice wavering. Marko looks behind his shoulder before wiping his thumb over his lip. Walking back he shakes his head, “Then what happened?” He questions genuinely confused, he really was. Since that night he can only feel episodes of phantom pain and the soreness lasted a couple of days. He’d never seen anything like your magic in his hundred years of living. “You said you’d do a palm reading, but once you touched my hand you went ballistic.”

“I can’t control what happens sometimes,” you start taking a deep breath, “Sometimes the magic likes to control me. Normally when I do a palm reading on a human I can see vaguely of what their future proposes.” You explain. Your fingers tighten on your shawl turning your knuckles white and your shoulder started to shudder as you are reminded of the vision and the pain. The scream of pain and fear, the pain of the wooden stake in his chest. You swallow to relieve the tension in your throat. 

“You are not human, so what I saw was more powerful than I would see on an average being.”

“Then what did you see? Because it hurt like hell, not going to lie.”

You blink and clear your throat, hesitant on trying to explain the vision of his death to him. That is something a vampire, an immortal being doesn’t like to hear. “I saw… I saw… I saw your death,” you choke out hugging yourself with your arms crossed.

Marko’s folded arms drop and his furrowed brows unknot themselves for a beat. “What?” Marko asks in clear confusion before knitting his brows back together but tighter. “You saw my death? What does that even mean?”

“I-I don’t know,” you whisper breathlessly carefully holding onto your breath thanking your lucky stars you were behind the protective line. Yet, Marko didn’t seem mad or frustrated, he only seemed confused and lost. “The future is bleak, never set in stone. I don’t know who did it. I only saw it through your eyes. I felt it too.”

“So your magic rebounded back to me? Making me feel my own death?” He presses the pad of his index finger onto his chest over where his heart would be. You nod carefully, swiping your tongue over your lower lip. “Yes, then once you were attacked by my magic that’s when your friend started to charge towards me before I could even catch my breath. So on instinct, I acted.” Marko slowly nods at this answer, his lips pouted as he took in all the information trying to file it in his brain for later reference. When he didn’t answer back that was when you started to show a bit of worry about your features. 

“Just remind me to not hold hands with you for a while then,” Marko teases his once look of engrossment turned into mirth. You were so caught off guard by the statement a breathy chuckle left your parted lips. You nod as well as a smile growing on your lips, “I’ll keep that in mind if we ever try to do a reading again.”

“Don’t sweat it, really. I understand now.” Marko discerned raising his brows and stuffing his hands back into his leather jacket. “I should go now, they will be wondering where I am,” Marko suggests nodding his head over in the direction of the boardwalk. You bob your head and give him a warm smile. He lingers for a moment watching you carefully. His warm brown eyes take in your form under the high silvery moonlight. Enjoying the way the shadows cascade your features. He notes the embroidered shawl around your shoulders and the black silk nightgown that draped over your body. He bit his lower lip to halt himself from pressing any further into your night. As he was about to step back he could feel your warm hand on his chest. Fingers ghosting over the bare skin that was above the collar. He flickered his eyes to yours, the orbs widened in bewilderment. Your touch made his skin feel fuzzy, even though your hand was barely putting any pressure he felt like he could feel every twitch of your hand. Marko bores into your eyes as you give him a reassuring smile.

“The future is yours. The future is not something to be predicted on but to be built on.” Your voice was honey to his ears. It was warm and comforting just like your touch. Out of instinct his hand hovers and places it on yours. His fingers brush over the stacked rings before pushing your hand to put more pressure on his chest. Marko doesn’t say a word, but his eyes run wild with wonder and gratitude. He dips his head after a beat of silence between the two of you. Nothing but the whispering of the winds and the thrashing of the waves. Marko drops your hand and takes a step back, admiring the purple sheen separate and close once more as your hand returns to your side. He flashes you a reassuring smile as he takes a couple of steps back his boots making the dirt and gravel separate underneath him. You watch him as he turns around, taking in the detail of the tapestry of the bare woman on his back.

Bringing your thumbnail to your teeth you chew on it out of nerves. A soft meow is what brings your attention back to the caravan. You look down at Finn for a second before whipping your head to see if Marko was still there and he wasn’t. You sigh against the wind wondering if he ran or flew away. 

Another meow. You turn on your heel to Finn, “No, he’s gone. Nothing to worry about. It’s his friends I got to worry about. Now get back inside, you barely have any fur to keep you warm.” You lecture stepping back in the caravan with a retaliating mewl echoing from your bedroom. Your eyes peer through the door, glancing at your surroundings once more as you slowly close the door. You spot the place where Marko was standing, a small clearing where his boots rummaged the dirt around. You click the door shut and rest your forehead against the metal.

Finn trills at you from the bedroom with impatience, “I am coming! Jeez, can’t be without me ten minutes can you? What would you ever do without me?” You tease the Devon Rex who clearly rolls his eyes at you. In reaction you point your index finger at him, “I saw that! Now let me finish this movie in peace, please. No more snarky comments.”

You plot yourself back on the bed shuffling underneath the abundance of blankets. You shake off your shawl and place it neatly on your nightstand. Even though you watched the movie for the rest of the night you couldn’t shake the look Marko gave you when his hand touched yours.  Why did his eyes show more than he was expressing on his face. You could long into them for hours and still, learn new things with each passing minute.

A sigh escaped your lips as sleep started to lull you into a hypnotized state. The weight of the blankets and Finn resting by your side let you fully realize you were safe and at peace for the rest of the night. That didn’t mean when you dreamt you envisioned golden curls that radiated light or the green speckled brown eyes of a familiar vampire.

a/n: thank you for giving so much love on the first part of this series. i know this part is A LOT shorter than the first but i hope it gave a gratifying ending. i have ideas on how to continue this series and make it special for everyone. thank you for all the love once again! 🖤🖤🖤

i think; therefore i am taglist:

@fili-is-my-lover

@ilikechocolatemilkh​

@takemetotheweirdness​

@hopester08

[elphiej]

Be My Light - Chapter 4:   The Mad Leader

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: References to violence, minor assault, 

Author’s note: First off, I’d like to send a special Thank You to someone who was a huge inspiration to me and to this story. This is the chapter that really started it all and I was inspired by @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng  ‘s mafia reaction series. She is a fantastic person and was one of the first people I showed this Be My Light to when I was too scared to post it. She is a beautiful soul and wonderful writer. Thank you for the push. 

Another Big thanks to my editor for sticking with me all this time and into the future. And, of course, to all the people who are reading, commenting, and reblogging this. I can’t tell you all how much is means to me. Thank you all and I hope you enjoy this next installment of Be My Light. (P.S. I have a thing for RM in a long trench coat.)

Tag list:  @lolalalooo @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine , @mrsfortune1306 , @lovesick-heart0 , @iamnamjoonsbxtch , @deathkat657 , @deeepvibes , @sugamonster22 , @weiinihao, @hemmofluke , @rainbow-zebra-unicorns , @joyfullyobsessed , @elvencantation , 

                                   Chapter 4: The Mad Leader

              You stared at the cell phone clutched in your hand, your mind spinning with so many questions. Who were those people? Why did talking to this ‘RM’ make you feel like something bad was coming? With that deep, serious tone, were they just as dangerous as the man with the cane? And what kind of normal person calls themselves ‘RM’? Agust was already on the edge of interesting and odd as it was. Scanning over the still lit screen, you wondered what other names were in the contact list. Other than ‘God of Destruction’, the last few calls you could see without going through the device belonged to ‘Mochi’, ‘My Favorite’, and ‘Worldwide Pain in my Ass’. Based on those names, you couldn’t begin to imagine who was gonna match those names.

               It was safe to assume that this RM guy was concerned about the man in the suit trying to finish the job. The hospital had a good security team but you thought it best to talk to Doctor- Henry- to see if more could be done. Your hand paused as it went to put the cell phone back with Agust’s things; if RM or any of the odd named voices tried to contact you for an update, they would most likely call that, instead of trying to navigate the hospital switch board. Figuring it was the best option, you placed the phone safely in your scrub’s pocket as you moved to the bedside for one last check on the patient. Agust hadn’t moved again since right before the phone call and was still as could be. The monitors were all reading normally. There was a blood transfusion line in his arm to help replace what he had lost, along with another IV pushing fluids and medication. You adjusted his arm to make it more comfortable for him once he woke up.

               “I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can,” you said as you fixed his blankets. “Please, try not to do anything until I get back.”

               You slipped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind you. There was an anxious feeling that crept back into your gut, the same one you felt when you had first heard the gun shots ring out from the silence of the construction site. Your mind had so many thoughts and scenarios running through it that you felt overwhelmed. Things like, ‘what if the man with the cane and rough voice came here? Would he shoot his way through the floors until he found Agust? Were you really as safe as you hoped?’ The hospital had been under a few threats but nothing had ever come from those except words. It would be best to stay as cautious as possible. You had too many friends and patients to not take your feelings seriously.

               As you made your way towards your station, you were surprised to see that Henry was already there leaning over the desk with the phone pressed up against his ear. He pulled a pad of paper from the other side of the desk and started scribbling something down as he nodded and spoke in a low tone to whomever was on the other end. That saves me from having to page him, you mused. Henry did a double take towards you when he noticed you out of the corner of his eye. He beaconed you over with an urgent wave of his hand. The calm yet awkward demeanor from earlier had been replaced with a more serious one. Once you were within an arm’s reach of him, he reassured whomever he was talking to that ‘everything will be taken care of’ and hung up.

               “Good,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I need you to help me.”

               “Henry, about that John Doe patient. I was able to talk to someone close to him. I think we may need to alert the security team about- “

               “I’ve already talked to them. The hospital is going on alert for any suspicious activity entering the hospital. And we are actually moving the patient to one of the private units upstairs. I just got off the phone with the director and we’ve got everything worked out for you so you’ll be safe,” he said over his shoulder as he started walking down the hall.

               “Wait, what does that mean? What do you mean by worked everything out?” You took extra long steps to keep up with his brisk pace.

               “The same person who demanded higher security for that patient requested that you be kept with him as his private staff until otherwise. Which means you’ll be in the secure ward with him in case anything happens. It’s gonna be for the best. You were the first one with him and it’s gonna be more comfortable if he doesn’t have to get acclimated to someone else after all this. Don’t worry, we’ve got it worked out with Jax already.”

               Henry led you back into Agust’s room and made fast work of disconnecting him from the machines that surrounded him. He pulled the IV bags down and placed them on the bed by the still form. Meanwhile, you were frozen at the end of the bed, feeling dizzy from how fast he seemed to expect you to understand what was happening. This wasn’t the first gang related case you had been assigned to since starting at Mercy, nor was it the first gunshot case; why did this sudden change to the routine make you feel ever more nervous? Never had you moved a patient into a secure wing designed from more severe or quarantined patients before just because someone had requested it. Henry called your name to shake you from your thoughts and motioned you to move to the side of the bed as he unlocked the wheels of the gurney and pushed the bed from the wall. As you helped guide it from the room, you couldn’t help but feel the tension grow.

               “So, I am just supposed to stay locked up in some room like a prisoner? And be someone’s private nurse? What about the rest of my patients here? I can’t just leave Amber to tend to them all alone. We are short staffed as it is,” you mentioned as you navigated everyone into the elevator at the end of the hall.

               Henry hit a button and the elevator started to move. He leaned close to look you in the face, his eyes filled with seriousness. “Listen, Y/N, I know this is strange but you just have to trust me. I don’t know all the details but someone particularly important has to be involved to make the director so quick to comply with whatever they asked. But no matter what, your safety is my priority, maybe a bit more than my patients. I’m sure the director thinks that too. Whoever it is must just want to make sure this guy has the best care possible. And when he gets here, he’ll probably want to hear from you what happened. And if whatever gang did this does try anything, I don’t want you to worry because no one is going to get to him or you. Only the director, you, and I will have access to this room or know where he is. Apparently, the man the director talked to said he would have a way to get a hold of you and prove his identity to gain access. I know how you are, Y/N, you are a great person. That’s why you’re so good at what you do. But don’t think that you are inconveniencing anyone; Jax has already rearranged everything and made some calls. I really need you to think about yourself now. And what is best is for you is to do what I am asking and not over think this right now.”

               Henry was being so sincere that you couldn’t find the voice to make any arguments. You gave him a weak nod and tried to take what he said to heart. As Amber had pointed out before, one of your qualities was that you put others well before yourself. Hence, why you were in this predicament. As the doors opened onto the new floor, you promised him that you would try.

               The door opened onto a floor where the more severe, long term patients were kept. This floor could, also, be used for quarantining or the more delicate of patients. At the moment, you knew it had only a few occupants: a coma patient, a patient suffering from extreme burns, and someone from the psych ward that needed more focused attention. To enter this ward, you needed a key card, making this more isolated than your full and frantic floor. Henry commented there was no record that Agust had been moved in any of the files. And if anyone tried to look him up, it would be like he never existed. The person who had called to make all this happen had said he’d contact you and that he and his colleagues were to say they were here to perform community service if asked by anyone else. Apparently, they deemed it as security protection. Henry had you swipe your ID to gain access to the floor and you made your way down the silent hall to the vacant room Henry had staked out for you to stay in. The room was bigger than the one you were used to on your floor. There was a small couch across from where the bed was to go, a private bath off near the entrance, and even a TV in the corner. There was, also, a small recliner near where the head of the gurney was to rest. You imagined you’d be there most of the time. Henry helped you set everything back up in the room and did a quick check on the patient after he was secured in his new residence.

               “Hopefully, he’s gonna wake up a bit soon. He’s reacting well to what I’m doing,” Henry commented as he checked Agust’s pupils constrict as he shined his pen light in them. He gave some instructions about his IV and transfusion processes. He gave you a quick run down of the floor in case you needed anything. “Until he wakes up, I guess feel free to do whatever in here. It can be like a mini vacation. You know, if you ignore all the weird stuff happening. You can watch some TV or order some food. The mysterious man said to spare no expense when it came to our patient or you. I promise by Friday this will be all over and we can go out and talk about nicer things. Okay?”

               Before you could stop yourself, you felt your cheeks get hot and you turned your eyes to the floor. This was not the best place for this, but you knew Henry did it to only ease the anxiety you were feeling. He was almost too perfect. Henry promised to check in once he had finished his rounds as he left from the room and pulled the door shut behind him. You heard the security lock click into place, knowing it would only open from the inside or if you had an ID card. You allowed yourself to drop into the recliner, allowing everything to wash over you. Paranoia was thick in the air as you tried to make sense of everything. Henry was right; whoever these people were they must just want to talk to you and this was easier than scouting the halls. But the thought did very little to chase the nervousness away. Your hands started to rub together out of tension, squeezing your fingers, cracking your knuckles one by one with your thumbs. You took a few deep breaths as you tried to force yourself out of the impending panic. Your eyes looked over at the bed. You tried to remind yourself that you needed to keep it together and be strong for him. Then your eyes landed on his hand. You remembered when you were hiding behind the counter when the man with the cane was getting closer and closer. And when Agust had reached over and squeezed your hand. In that moment, he gave you reassurance with such a small gesture, not thinking of himself. You remembered how genuine it felt. It’d be nice if you could do that now, you thought with a weak smile.

               Instead, you settled for forcing yourself to think of something else. You read through his charts, tapped through some news on your phone, and tried to people watch out the window behind the couch. The afternoon sun had started making its way towards the horizon; how quickly the day had ended up flying by. You had decided against turning on the television for now, thinking how awkward it would be for him to wake up to you watching some trash TV show. You tried walking around the room to get a sense of where you’d be staying for the foreseeable future. But all of that only killed twenty minutes and you were still stir-crazy. There wasn’t much you could do for Agust at the moment, except allow him to rest without you trying to hold his hand or anything else.

               Suddenly, there was a buzzing in your pocket; it was Agust’s phone. You were a bit ashamed at how quickly you reached for it. There was a new text message. It was from a new named contact: Sunshine. The preview of the message said, ‘To Miss Nurse’, making your assumption that the people on the other end would have expected you to keep the phone on you correct. And since it was addressed to you, you didn’t feel too bad about opening the phone again. You swiped open the text and tried not to scroll anywhere higher into their previous chats.

-          Sunshine: To Miss Nurse. if you see this, please take good care of our Hyung. And if he gives you any trouble, tell him I said to behave. RM should be almost there. He tends to speed.  

               There were a couple silly emojis next to it that made you smile. Surely, they can’t be bad people if this is how they communicate. They must be close friends. Though, you still wondered how they had gotten the director to do all this. Maybe there was someone else doing all of this? You shook your head and typed a quick message back, so not to have them worry.

-          I’ll take good care of him. That’s my job.

You really hoped Agust didn’t mind you messing with his phone. Though, you figured it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission in this scenario. There was no response which made you think that it was all he needed at the time. Gazing at the clock on the phone, you had wasted thirty minutes in the room so far. You thought of your backpack in the locker room a few floors down and some of your things at your stations that you could pass the time with. Since Agust was secure here, you thought it may be a good idea to gather some things to help you waste time until this RM shows up. It was unlikely that Agust was going to wake up yet, and you could be fast so he wouldn’t be alone for long. You slipped the phone back into your pocket and rose from the chair, heading for the door. You cast one more look at the still figure in the bed before dimming the lights and pulled the door shut behind you.

               You set off at a brisk pace for the elevator and took it down a few levels to where the staff locker room was kept. You raced in, pulled your bag from your locker, and left before anyone noticed you. You were sure since the director had put the whole hospital on alert that everyone was making rounds to keep eyes everywhere. You hoped grabbing your stuff from your station was just as easy; you weren’t sure about how to explain why you had suddenly deserted your station. Amber wasn’t there but you could hear her and Jax talking loudly from a back room. You wanted to talk to your best friend, to help ease some nerves and have her tell you exactly what you needed to hear. But you didn’t want to wait around or take her away from her new workload. You pulled open the drawer where you kept some personal items, incase of slower work days, and shoved them into your bag. You froze when your fingers hit against something that you knew, instantly, should not be in your bag. Peering into the opening, your eyes locked onto a metallic, black, studded object that you had seen earlier that morning.  

              The gun Agust had placed in your hand.

             How did that get in there? You didn’t remember grabbing it unless it had happened in the chaos of the EMTs and police rushing to assess the situation. Well, if you weren’t already anxious, this just made it worse. Let’s just add this to the ever-growing list of stupid things I’ve done today, you berated yourself. You brought a potentially loaded gun into a hospital. You needed to get back up to the room and get this out of your possession. Maybe when this RM got there, he could take it from you. You pulled the bag shut and slugged it over your shoulder, trying hard not to think about it.

            You moved away from the desk and down the hall towards the elevator. But as you stepped into the silent hall with all the doors closed, one was not closed as it had been when you left; the room where Agust had been. And there was someone looking inside. There was a man, tall and stocky, and dressed in a simple navy uniform. He wasn’t a part of the hospital staff and you didn’t think he was there to clean the room with the lights still off. Trying to stay as unnoticed as you could, you took longer strides towards the end. As you passed behind him, you peered beyond him into the pitch blackness of the room to just make out another figure lurking there. He wasn’t dressed in the same way as the man in the door. He was in darker colors that you couldn’t make out and wore what looked like a fedora on his head. What caught your attention as you passed, was the small peek of icy, blue hairs that were just visible on the side. A deep grumble that sounded from the room made your breath catch in your throat, and made you stop in your tracks. It sounded so familiar to the sadistic voice from this morning. The man with the cane had gotten into the hospital?! How, they upped security measures, hadn’t they? Maybe it was your imagination playing with you with all the stress. Not wanting to stick around to figure out if you were right, you tried to get away before they had noticed you.

            But, sadly, you weren’t that lucky.

           “Excuse me, nurse. Perhaps you can help me.”

           You felt your whole body stiffen as the voice was all to clearly the one that had stalked you from beyond the counter. The voice that dripped with crazed malice and venom as he called out for Agust, that had taunted and tried to lure him out. The voice that you were sure would haunt your dreams. It was the man with the cane, though he didn’t have it now. As you turned, he looked nothing like the half-crazed man yelling and destroying things around him. He looked almost normal, save for the fake smile he had plastered across his lips. He was no longer dressed in the light blue suit and fur coat you had caught a glimpse behind the counter, but in a simple dark blazer and trousers. The man who lingered in the doorway had come to stand next to him as they walked up to you, dressed in a police uniform. His uniform cap was pulled low to obscure his face, though you could see bruising and swelling through the shadows. Both of them gave a slight bow to you.

           “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Inspector Taop, this is officer Chen. We are here following up on a patient that was supposed to be brought here. I’ve been looking everywhere, but no one has an answer for me whether he is here or not. And I haven’t seen a single worker on this floor.”

           He had never seen you at the scene so you knew he didn’t recognize you, or could see that you didn’t believe anything that was coming out of his mouth. That would help you, you decided. You took a deep breath and tried to hide the fear and nervousness. Just act normal. Try to stall until someone comes around.

           “Sorry, officer, we’re a bit understaffed as it is. What can I help you with?”

           “I’m looking for a patient that was brought here. Gunshot victim, a young man, brought in this morning?”

           “Can you be a bit more specific? We are a hospital. Do you know how many young men we have come in here with some kind of bullet wound? I had six this month.”

           You saw the smile slip and irritation rise in those cold eyes. He cleared his throat, trying to hold on to his polite composure. “This one would have come in this morning. There was a shooting downtown. He would have had multiple gunshot wounds. One nurse said he was brought in by ambulance this morning, but then another said that they found no record of him. And the last person I talked to sent me here. Please, this is very important.”

           “Can I see your badge, sir?” He looked completely off guard by the question. You, also, seemed confused. It had just jumped out of your mouth before you realized it. But it seemed like the right thing to ask. You continued, “There’s been a threat made to the hospital, you see, and I need to make sure that everything is in order. I would get in trouble if I gave such information about any patient to an imposter.”

           You could see the wheels in his head turning. But you didn’t expect him to nod his head, understandingly, and reach into his pocket to hand you a leather, bifold wallet. Was this psycho really a police officer? How could someone so vile be in law enforcement? You thought back to what little memories of your father that you had lingering in the back of your mind and couldn’t begin to imagine him doing anything like what this man had done, no matter how bad of a criminal they were. Before you could think, your body seemed to act on it’s own again and opened the wallet and your eyes started to dance across the metal shield. You weren’t entirely sure what you were looking for at first. Until your eyes caught it and something clicked in your mind. It was a fake, but an exceptionally good fake. Anyone else would have just taken it at face value but something in your mind flashed and screamed that this was a fake like the smile still on the ‘inspector’s’ face. In the reaches of your memory, you remembered running your fingers over your father’s badge, memorizing every detail. And you still did that when you were stressed out; you still had his badge and it was currently in the front pocket of your bag. And you seemed to recall your father teaching you how to identify a real badge from others.

           A sudden anger took hold of you that seemed to spur on some brave part of you. You closed the wallet and handed it back to him, keeping your face neutral to hide that you were even more sure of his act. Maybe it was the dishonor to officers like your father, or that he was trying to get to the boy you had risked a lot to save. And your hard work was not going to waste. “I’m sorry officer. But like I said, we have a few patients that could fit your description. None on this floor at all. And if the other nurses said they have no record of him, I’m not sure what I can do for you. Besides that, if we did have a patient come in with multiple gunshot wounds, I imagine that they’d need extensive surgery and wouldn’t be conscious to answer any questions you could have. And with no guardian to act in their place until they are awake to consent to a line of questioning about a traumatic experience, I can’t let you go any further. You should know that, Officer.”

           The smile was wiped from the man’s face. The uniformed man’s eyes got wide at your declaration and they shifted towards his leader in panic. Taop, or whatever his real name was, straightened up and took a step towards you. He towered over you and the energy radiating from him would have intimidated you into submission. Just like with your ex. But you needed to protect Agust. In any case, all you needed to do was scream and someone would be alerted. There wasn’t much this asshole could accomplish without being found out. But he continued to advance until he backed you up against the wall. Even still, you never broke eye contact with him.

           “I don’t think you understand the situation of this, little girl,” he said, rage tittering on the edge of his voice. “There are some really dangerous people and it would be a shame if you got caught in the crossfires. It’s in your best interest to answer my questions and tell me what I need to know.”

           “Then bring a warrant,” you challenged.

           His hand collided with the wall next to your head, making you jump. His face was so close to yours now, and there was the crazed man you remembered from this morning. Your heart was in your ears. He, suddenly, took a deep inhale then another before tilting his head to the side. “What a brave little girl. Tell me, where were you this morning? Something tells me you may be exactly who I need to talk to.”

           “Hey, back off her!”

           Both you and the man turned to look down the hall towards the elevator towards the source of the deep voice that had interrupted the line of questioning. The doors of the elevator were opened and from them stepped a young man with platinum white hair. His eyes were haunting and strong, like a dragon woken from his peace. He was exceptionally tall, taking long strides towards the scene. You couldn’t help but let your eyes take in the man who was coming to your rescue. Dressed in a dark trouser and a white buttoned up shirt gave him a classic handsomeness, and a long black coat with a hood drawn up that accentuated his height. As he approached, he slid the hood down and swiped his hand up to push the stray white hairs from his face. If you weren’t terrified, you would have appreciated how handsome he was. You glanced back at the man caging you; his body tensed as the newcomer walked up but his face never showed.

           He let out a sigh and a small smile reappeared, but it was not the same he had tried to charm you with. It was one of arrogance.  “Ah, Mr. Kim,” the inspector said, not moving from his position, “how nice of you to drop in.”

          “You’ve got some nerve,” the handsome newcomer said, his tone low and smooth. 

          “What for? Being too formal? Do you not like me using your surname? I’m not sure which name you prefer now; you change names so often, it’s hard to keep up after all this time.”

          “You’re one to talk. What name are you going by now, officer? Here to investigate a fraud? Or are you here to put yourself into more trouble?”

          “Such a negative attitude. Officer Chen and I are here on official business,” the detective flashed his badge at the so named Mr. Kim. “And this nice young lady was willing to help me out with some information. Isn’t that right, Little Girl?”

          “It sure doesn’t look that way coming from the elevator. I think you need to take a step back,” Mr. Kim ordered with a strong but suggestive tone that made you question what kind of power someone as young looking as him could possess.

          The fake detective made no sign that he was planning on heeding the newcomer’s words to move from your personal space. His eyes shifted from Mr. Kim back to you. His stare bore into you sharper than claws and made your breath catch. You weren’t sure if he was trying to scare you into agreeing with him or just threaten you. But Mr. Kim was having none of that; he gave the older man’s shoulder a hard shove and wedged himself in the space between you to keep you away from the other man. Mr. Kim reached a hand behind him and placed it on your arm, to keep you secure behind him and to give you some reassurance that he was not going to hurt you. You couldn’t help yourself, as you fisted your hands into the back of his coat and peered around his massive frame.

          “You always have to play savior, don’t you Rapmon?” The way he had said the name made it seem like he was trying to strike a nerve in Mr. Kim. But the other man gave no sign that he was bothered. “You make it seem like I was doing something unseemly to her. You and your broken boy scouts always turn things difficult. Speaking of, where are the others? Maybe they could answer some questions for me. There’s one in particular I’m interested in seeing. I’m checking up on a victim from a shooting downtown. Just making sure he’s doing alright.”

          “You’re really committed to this bit, aren’t you Choi? Oh, sorry- what name are you going by today? It’s so hard to keep track, isn’t that what you said?” Mr. Kim tilted his head to the side, eyes twinkling with a mischievous shine.

          “What a nuisance you are. I’m just trying to get information to make sure things go well. Though come to think of it, your boys may not know much. Word was that the victim was all alone. Left all by themselves, bleeding and hurt in such a dangerous situation. What kind of friends would let someone knowingly go into that situation alone? Now, I’d really like to finish my conversation with the little lady, Rapmon.” When Choi, as you figured his name actually was, took a step towards you, Mr. Kim moved the both of you to keep you behind him and further away from the other. “Well, since you seem hellbent on keeping me from doing something so simple, I could always ask you. Though to be honest, your being here may have answered my questions.”

          “My being here answers nothing,” Mr. Kim challenged. “Unlike you, I am here to do good for the community. And it’s a good thing I came by when I did. You’re already on thin ice after all the trouble you’ve caused. Imagine what would happen if you caused any problems while on Hallowed Ground. If you were to hurt anyone staying or working here, you would have more than my family looking for you. The rest of the Families would be looking to teach you a lesson. Imagine what most of them will think when they hear about the deceit you pulled this morning. After what I witnessed, you can be sure I’ll have eyes monitoring this place. You will not go against the Accords.”

          “Don’t you lecture me about the Accords, you psycho. I’ve been around just as long as they have and lived them. I taught them to you.”

          “And yet, you only follow them when they suit you. Just like your leader and his before him. But things are different now. They are gone, and your hold is slipping. I have enough pull now to ensure Accords are followed. And if you want to make a further spectacle of yourself, I’ll gladly show you I’m not that kid anymore that you ordered around. You saw what my boys can do when pushed. Try me.”

          Choi started to laugh, eyes shining in disbelief at the younger bossing him around. As you peered around Mr. Kim’s frame, you saw him go to say something to officer Chen, but couldn’t form the word. He raised his hand towards the white-haired man, but let it drop with a growl. Whatever look was set upon the elder made him rethink his next move. He settled for raising his hands in a surrender and jerking his head towards his companion to tell him they were leaving. It surprised you that he was giving up so easily after how he had acted towards you. You weren’t sure what Mr. Kim meant by accords and families, but it was more than obvious that it meant something to them. Glancing up at your protector, his face remained locked in the same stern and serious mask he had when he had appeared. His eyes, perfectly lined and accentuated with makeup that only made him more intriguing, followed the pair as they turned down the hall.

          But before they could get too far, Choi stopped. He turned enough to gaze at the two of you over his shoulder, the dark and manic gleam from that morning flashing like a warning sign. He chuckled before his teasing and taunting voice that had called out to Agust filled the hall like glass shattering. “Look at how far our little maniac has come. Really living up to the title of Mad Leader, aren’t you? He thinks he’s so big and strong that he can just order me around and act like a knight in shining armor to the weak. The Mad Leader’s trying so hard to put up a front, to hide who he is, to hide the other side of the looking glass. But lest he forget, I know things he wouldn’t want others to know. And I seem to recall,” Choi turned fully around and took a full stride back towards Mr. Kim, “you had an issue with places like this. You don’t enjoy being here. Are you falling down the rabbit hole? You even have an Alice this time it would seem. So tell me, Mad Leader, are the walls closing in on you yet? Are you feeling anxious?”

          You could feel Mr. Kim tense up at the name ‘Mad Leader’ each time Choi said it. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. He gave you a polite push away from him before fixing Choi with a glare that made officer Chen startle. You could almost feel the air change as he stepped up to be nose to nose with the thug.

          “Since you can’t seem to remember my name, asshole, let me spell it out for you. It’s RM, R to the M. And I’m a motherfucking monster. Keep pushing me. I dare you. You hurt one of my boys. You better pray that he makes it out of all this ok. Or you’ll see just how ‘mad’ I can get.”

          Chen seemed to realize that something bad was building as he took hold of his superior and pulled him away from RM, newly identified. Choi kept the taunting smile spread across his lips as he allowed Chen to lead him away. Before he got too far, he looked over at you and gave a nod, “We’ll be in touch, Little Girl.” And then he disappeared from the floor, leaving you in the presence of RM. You can’t say you had expected this person to belong to the voice on the other end of the phone, but it would seem like that was the theme of the day. The tall man took a few deep breaths and ran his hand through his white hair before turning back to you. The serious mask he had worn had slipped away and was more approachable. He straightened his clothes before returning to your side.

          “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, “But he shouldn’t be back. He talks a good game but he knows when he’s out done. Did he hurt you?”

          You shook your head. “I can’t believe he got in. The hospital is on lock down.”

          “Well, he’s been around a while. He has his ways. Now that he’s gone, I was hoping you could help me. I’m looking for a nurse called Y/N.” You locked eyes with him and gave him a nod of affirmation. He gave you a smile, showing off a pair of dimples in his cheeks that made him much more innocent and sweeter than the man who had gone nose to nose with the monstrous thug. “That’s a coincidence. Nice to meet you. Can you show me where to go?”

          “Prove that you’re who you say you are,” you said, taking a step away from him. Despite that you were sure he was the one you had talked to, it seemed like nothing was safe. He looked at you for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone before letting his finger glide across the screen. A moment later, Agust phone sounded off in your pocket. He glanced over at you with a bemused look as you pulled the phone out and saw the screen lit up with a notification.

-          God of Destruction: It’s me.

          “Sorry,” you said, feeling embarrassed by your sudden suspicion, “but after that guy flashed a fake police badge at me, I just wanted to be sure. Thank you for coming and for helping me. Are you Agust’s brother or a friend?”

          RM’s eyes narrowed when he heard you say Agust and gave you a strange look. His eyes seemed to dance about you, as if he was trying to figure something out. But as quickly as it appeared, the look disappeared and he smiled again. “We usually call him Suga. Only people who don’t like him call him Agust. I don’t think he’d want you calling him that. Can we go see him now? We’ve been worried about him.” You nodded and motioned him to follow you back to the elevator. As you waited for the doors to reopen, he leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Hyung you had his phone.”

          “What? Does he have some embarrassing things on here,” you joked.

          “Maybe,” came the reply and heard RM chuckle as he allowed you to step into the elevator.

          You hit the button for the floor that they moved Agu- Suga to, the doors slid shut, and the lift jolted to a start. As the sound of the mechanisms filled the space, you caught a glimpse of the tall man flinch. It seemed odd, seeing as he had just faced off against the most frightening person you had ever seen. The taunting words he had said to RM before leaving came to mind, about not liking it in a hospital. It wasn’t uncommon for people to have bad experiences related to hospitals, so you tried to brush it off. Once you had made it to the secure floor, you led him down the hall. You explained that the floor was only accessible to a few people and how they had followed the directions as specified to the director. The entire time, RM listened very intently, eyes never leaving you. He was the picture of professionalism and sincerity. You swiped the two of you into the ward, and he held the door open for you as you led him down the hall to the room. As you neared the room, you wondered if you were going to survive the present of two very handsome men. Hopefully, the rest of his friends that you heard over the phone were somewhat average.

          As you both entered the room, RM came to a stop in the threshold of the door, his eyes staring at the bed. You could see the worry and panic that you had heard over the phone slip across his face. You reached out and touched his arm. He looked at you with an almost innocent gaze, like he was questioning if it was alright to get closer. You gave him a nod and he was beside his friend in a flash. He looked as if he was debating to reach out to Suga, as if he were made of glass, but settled for taking hold of his hand. RM let out a breath and looked relieved to have finally seen his friend. From your place at the edge of the room, you could see how much one meant to the other and all worries about them being as bad as Choi disappeared.

          “Is he going to be ok? What did they do to him,” RM asked, never taking his eyes off his companion.

          “Dr. Na took good care of him,” you said, reaching for the file at the end of the bed. “He was shot twice, once in the shoulder and on his left side. The gunshot wound on his side appeared to be at close range and the bullet went through. Thankfully, there wasn’t much damage done. The bullet was lodged in his shoulder, but Dr. Na was able to remove it and mend up some of the damage. We’ll know more when he wakes up, but he should have full range of motion after some rest. He, also, has some bruised ribs and a slight concussion. Along with bruising and defensive wounds pretty much everywhere. He, also, lost a lot of blood. He’s in the middle of a transfusion now. But he is responding well to everything and we believe he should be waking up soon. With enough care, patience, and support, he should make a full recovery in no time. Which is amazing; when I found him, I was worried with how much blood he had lost that he may have had a harder road to recovery.”

          RM flicked his eyes over to you. “You found him?”

          “They must not have told you. I was on my way to work when I heard the gunshots. I was the first to find him and get him to safety.”

          RM looked like he wanted to ask more questions, when a soft groan came from the bed and drew the attention. Suga took in a deep breath and his body shifted as if fighting to wake and identify the voices. After a tense moment, his body relaxed and his eyes opened slightly. From the edge of the bed, you could see the glazed and shiny effects of the medication still trying to hold him in the state of unconsciousness, and realized he may not fully be aware of what is happening. But you were sure the presence of RM had drawn him out enough to give them a sign that he was okay. RM called out to his hyung softly, drawing Suga’s attention as he gazed about the room.

          “Hyung, hey, can you hear me?”

          Suga’s eyes fully landed on RM. It seemed as if he was fighting his way to recognition before he gave a small, drugged smile back. “Joon,” his voice sounded exhausted and stained.

          RM laughed. “Yeah, Hyung, it’s me. You’re gonna be okay. You’re safe.”

          “Joonie, I think I’m dead. I saw an angel.”

          The whitehaired man reached out and ran his fingers, gently, through his friend’s hair. “No, Hyung, you’re only tired. That bastard messed you up but you’re gonna be alright now. Why don’t you go back to sleep? The boys and I will be here when you wake up.”

          “Oh,” Suga said, almost sounding disappointed as the drugs started to drag him back to oblivion, “too bad. It was a pretty angel. Prettier than Jiminie and Hyungie combined. But don’t tell them I said that.” And just as fast as he woke, Suga went silent and still again.

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Intermission V: My Sworn Nemesis, Held At Arm’s Length

Oh, I was sure it raised concerns at the front desk when I asked for a room with a half-awake drunken woman slumped on my shoulders. Really, what could I have even said?

“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t even know how to take off that armor,” I mentioned to the front desk agent whose eyes darted between her and I. Good going, Cybele. Out of all the things you could have said…

“Er. I would like to reserve a room, but not for me. In fact, two beds would be fine. Actually, I don’t need to sleep at all. Or, I could sleep right outside the door!” I stammered, which if I thought the previous statement was a good idea, my verbal defensive maneuver was anything but.

“So, you want a room for two?” Asked the poor front desk agent at last in a thick, French accent. Truly, I pitied her: she didn’t have to deal with such a...me.

“Si. Er...oui?” I tried to drum up what little French I knew. She was courteous to speak in English, it was only fair that I try her language, wasn’t it? Oh, what another mistake that was. As I pointed to the armored lady, I continued my feeble incomprehensible babbling, “je suis...mon amie? Ami? Oui!”

Yeah. That was terrible. I glanced at the clerk’s nametag: Brittany. Such a simple name and yet I was sure if I were to say it, in any language, I would fumble it somehow. As she should, she disapproved of my non-committal French and shook her head.

She pounded on some keys on the keyboard overlooking the flatscreen monitor on the desk.

“100 euros,” Brittany groaned. Not that I could blame her. It was late and she was probably way too tired for such foreigner nonsense.

I slammed a few bills on the table. Won’t say how many but they all added up to a hundred euros exactly. No questions please.

She handed me the keys and I grasped them firm in my palm.

“Arigato? Gracias? Um…”

“Merde…” She groaned.

“Yes!” I wanted to cheer. To think she would help me find the right word. “Very merde!”

I scrambled away and dragged the supposed friend of Ray’s up the stairs to her room. She was awake enough to move, but hadn’t uttered a word since we left the plane.

“Where am I taking her?” I recalled asking Ray.

“She said any hotel would do,” he shrugged.

“Somewhere far…” The redhead murmured against the floor.

“What happened?” I jumped back, surprised to hear her speak.

“She asked for a strong drink, I gave her a strong drink,” he sighed, then walked back over to his desk and sat. Palm spread across his forehead, he too looked dead tired. “Sorry, Cybele. It’s been a long day and you’ve already flown twice today. I hate to impose, but –” I stopped him right there.

“Hey. This is important. Don’t worry about it,” I reassured him and in hindsight I wished that short burst of confidence lasted just a little longer. “If she was important enough to be taken hostage on the trip back here, surely she’s important enough that you’re entrusting me to whisk her away. I just hope she won’t be as much trouble with me as she was with you guys.”

Upon saying that I gave a nervous chuckle. It was true that I saw her tied up in some metal contraption as the gang loaded back into the plane. What a hassle it was having to stop all of a sudden and to find out that one of the passengers fell out...there wasn’t enough anxiety meds in the world to deal with that kinda shit.

Upon my neck I felt a hot, heavy breath. I glanced in my peripheral to see the source of trouble herself close behind me.

“Sure is fun talking about people when you assume they can’t hear you, isn’t it, my dear?” Her voice was a low, hoarse sneer but filled with that same heavy breath which tickled my neck and made me shiver. It felt hateful, malignant, yet that same heat brought with it a certain warmth.

“I’m...sorry…” I heaved out those two words, filled from head to toe with shame at the words I had uttered about a stranger.

Wait. What do I have to feel bad about? She could have wrecked my plane for all I know!

I knew she didn’t; I checked for dents a few hours prior. Nothing broken, nothing so much as a scratch.

I swear the collision was loud enough that something must be damaged, I had thought, but then I had a different thought, but what if she could control her strength to such a degree where she could give off an impression of damage without anything being harmed? No, that’s absurd. But somehow, she  must have acted in a way to make her presence known and nothing more.

“Whatever. Let’s just get a move on. I cannot stand being in such a place even a second longer,” she groaned. Sheesh. So dramatic.

Once outside and on the way to the airport, she walked beside me and without warning, leaned against me with her head on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” I asked, as if on instinct.

“Don’t worry about me,” she dismissed.

Her walks were stilted, inelegant. Of course, it must have been the drunken state she was in. Even still, the last thing I would have wanted would be for her to fall.

Don’t do it. Don’t you dare, a voice warned me, and really, I could and should have asked, yet my arm already went there; reached over, hand held tight at her waist as I pulled her in.

“Sorry,” I said after the fact, “I just thought you might be cold and I thought if I pulled you close, you wouldn’t get too cold –” She shook her head.

“I can’t feel anything,” she replied, and I swore I saw a smile when I glanced down, “but don’t get me wrong. I still appreciate the gesture.”

Even if that suit of armor is keeping her warm, her head must be freezing.

“It’s just courtesy,” it was my turn to dismiss before any implications could be drawn.

“Ha. You really are cute,” she commented and her breath formed a thick cloud in front of us.

There it was again: that warmth.

“You can’t just say these things,” my face crinkled to a frown.

“Yet I just did,” she smirked, that cheeky troublemaker.

Out of frustration, I growled. But I didn’t even know what I had to be frustrated with.

“You’re quite rude,” I commented and let my frustration show.

How hypocritical of me. Wasn’t I the one who talked about her while she was literally behind my back? Or how I put my arm around her without asking first? Which of us was the rude one?

“Sorry,” she muttered, “it’s been a long day. You have nothing to do with my plight, and I never intended to involve outsiders,” those words were softer. At least softer than I expected from her voice, and her eyes fluttered which made me notice her long, curled eyelashes. Then my sight scanned upward to her short and messy crimson hair. It looked soft and fluffy enough to the point where I had the intense desire to reach my other arm toward it and…

We both almost stumbled to the ground because of course we did. I should have known better than to have focused on anything other than the road ahead. Didn’t I know that it was rude to stare?

Once we entered the plane and took flight, she didn’t utter another word. I mulled over where to take her, but it didn’t take long for my imagine to run wild and what should have been a stressful predicament turned into a flight of fancy.

Bright and early came the morning sun as its rays leaked through the shutters of the window. Rather than that be what forced myself awake, however, it was instead the sound close to me that did it.

“Ugh...my head…” came a nearby groan, “what the hell?”

I blinked several times in rapid succession and the room was a yellow blur before it adjusted at last and I saw the occupant of the queen-sized bed next to me. Her elbow rested upon the white pillow, while her head rested upon her hand. She leaned up, only slightly, and the thick tartan blanket slipped down.

“Who the hell are you?” She groaned, her voice even more hoarse than the night before.

I rubbed my eyes and got up from the chair I had sat in (yes, I slept seated in a wooden chair, no cushion. I must say, it was rather hardcore of me. Why did I sleep in a chair? Well, let’s just say that there were less than two beds). My legs were stiff and I walked in a zombie-like manner as I paced about the room.

“I’m Cybele, the pilot who brought you to this hotel last night,” I answered her, hands on my hips with a wide grin as if such a thing was something to be proud of.

“I see,” she looked down, listless, before a smile cracked and she looked up toward me, “Cybele, was it? Have you ever woken up angry?”

“I’m not sure,” I answered. There have probably been times, but I couldn’t recall any in particular. “But I’m guessing you just did?”

She nodded, her smile kept intact.

“Well, if you want me to leave the room, that’s fine...we can part here and you don’t ever have to see me again,” I scrambled to the door.

“That’s not what I mean,” her smile faded, “if you don’t mind, there should be a trash can next to the dresser. Could you bring it over?”

If I was more heartless, I would have denied her request, but really I was surprised at all that she noticed such a thing considering the dresser was outside of her field of vision. Or at least that’s what I assumed. The dresser was aligned across from the bed, against the wall, but the trash can was on the end of the dresser that she wasn’t facing, and was so small that really, I hadn’t even noticed it.

I brought it over and she reached down and held up the ends of the trash can, then dipped her head in and retched. Heavy panting followed, along with more gags and when she lowered the can, yellow saliva hung from her mouth. She wiped it off, then lowered her head back onto the pillow.

“My head is killing me,” she groaned. I couldn’t tell whether she was still smiling or not, but I knew what to call what she was going through.

“You have a hangover,” I stated.

“I thought you said your name was Cybele,” she groaned, “not Captain-Fucking-Obvious.”

“Well...you’re being rude again!”

“Ugh,” she turned her head, “I don’t usually get these...and from one drink, too.”

“What did Ray give you that made you get a hangover from one drink?!” I balked.

“Ab...sinthe,” she hissed, “he said it made the heart grow fonder.”

“ABSENCE!” I shouted.

“No, I think I’d rather...you stay.”

She’s misunderstanding me.

“It’s too late for that now! I gotta go downstairs and get you a glass of water!”

“Fine, fine,” she waved a hand away, “do as thou wilt.”

When I returned with some water, she swiped it away and took slow sips, with annoyed looking glances my way every other second. When the glass was empty, she set it on the nightstand next to the bed. She looked up, an almost curious expression, yet that expression was replaced with disgust as she squinted and clutched the sides of her head.

“No good. Still hurts,” she gasped.

“Here,” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a couple of tablets, “some aspirin. It should help tide you over. I’ll get you another glass of water and –” She grabbed the pills from my hand and tossed them into her mouth and chewed, then spat them back out into the trash (at least it didn’t land on the floor).

“You’re not supposed to chew them!”

“How am I supposed to know that?! Nobody’s helped me with a hangover since…!” She sounded like she was about to say something else, but stopped there.

“Since?”

She shook her head and frowned, then sat up against the post of the bed. Her legs folded up and she held her knees together.

“Never mind that. Where are we?”

“France,” I told her, “which department...not sure. I kinda just picked a spot in the woods to land and hoped for the best.”

“Ah. When in Rome.”

“Actually, that’s Italy,” I corrected her.

She winced again.

“Whatever. I hate this feeling. Hate this room. It’s so yellow and piss-colored.”

“Hangovers aren’t known for feeling pleasant. Some orange juice can help. If you’d like, I can see if there are any shops nearby that sell some. Or maybe this hotel has some. I mean, it’s a hotel, I don’t see why it wouldn’t.”

“I don’t get these often...I mean, I don’t drink often. Most I have is usually a hard cider. Still...just one drink.”

“If you’re not used to drinking heavy stuff and you get absinthe...yeah, that’ll do it. Why did you want something strong, anyway?”

“It was a rough day.”

“Wanna tell me about it?”

“No.”

“Fair enough. I try to make it a habit not to get too involved in Ray and company’s crazy adventures. Flying a plane is enough of a thrill for me.”

No comment. Great. If me talking wasn’t awkward enough, the silence was even more so.

“You know...a warm bath might help. Of course, you’d wanna take that armor off of yours.”

“Will you take one with me?” She had the audacity to ask without a hint of shame or remorse.

“No!”

“Aw, why not?” That cheeky smile returned.

“You’d see me naked, for one.”

“And is there a problem with that?”

My face just about turned red, though not nearly as red as her hair.

“This is for your benefit!”

“Who says seeing you naked isn’t for my benefit?”

“Stop that!”

“Ha, ha...ph…” she wheezed out laughter, then began to cough. “More water, madame?” She reached for the cup and croaked, though maintained that awful smile of hers.

“Right away, mademoiselle,” I groaned and took the cup. I didn’t know why I was letting myself be ordered around like some kind of maid service (sure, we were in France, but there was no way I was about to wear a french maid outfit) but a hangover was a hangover and I obliged.

After downing another glass or two, she seemed in slightly better spirits.

“Come. Lay with me,” she commanded.

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? Do you think I’m going to throw up on you? Is that it?”

I can’t tell if this is how she is under the effects of a hangover or if this is just how she is in general.

“No. It’s just that your metal armor you got on is probably cold and uncomfortable to lay next to,” I lied. Not that it wasn’t the truth, but it just wasn’t the reason why I didn’t want to lay next to her.

“I see,” she sighed and sat up, “I get that. To be honest, I don’t know how I slept with this thing on, either.”

She poked at her palm and the armor unfolded. There was a faint clicking sound and she reached for her back and pulled up a small circular device.

“Usually I just attach it and it camouflages itself. I can pretty much control how much of it covers me at any given time. But considering what this thing might be…” She sighed, “I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

“What do you mean?” I asked and noticed that under her armor had been a black suit and tie. Just like the tuxedos that everyone else had worn during the wedding.

“I’d rather not say,” she gave me a side-glance, “it would probably go over your head anyway. No offense.”

“I can respect that,” I said, “I prefer to stay in my lane.”

“Good girl,” she scoffed.

My heart thumped and I jumped in place.

“Good...good...now look here!” I pointed.

“Oh, you’re right,” she looked down at her suit, “forgot all about this, but it’s so stiff too, don’t you agree? You don’t mind if I go topless, do you?”

“Go what now?”

“It can’t be helped. I left my clothes back at the chateau.”

“Yeah. I guess it’s fine,” I gave in. Really, we’d both be under covers and I still had my clothes on and whatever it was just the top. Nothing special, really.

Good grief.

She stood up while I crawled into the covers of the left side of the bed. I really tried not to peek and let her do her thing but every now and then I caught a glimpse of her back and her broad, thick shoulders. That extended to her back as well – the rolls upon it and the defined line in the middle which marked her spine. How I wished to trace my hand down it.

No. Dispel such thoughts.

If that was all...but it wasn’t. There also happened to be the brief glimpses of her chest from the side, that small downward curvature.

So what? They’re boobs. I’ve got em too.

I turned away. Tried to keep my eyes averted, and within that same instance of turning away, she crawled back into bed and was beside me in the blink of an eye.

“You know, I never said you couldn’t look. I really don’t mind,” she teased.

“Couldn’t...I was trying not to be rude!” I protested.

She let out another one of her laughs and it seemed like her hangover had subsided somewhat. I noticed the tuxedo hung up on the back of the chair. Then, when my attention drifted back to us, I caught myself looking down upon her and saw the blanket covering her chest.

“What? Disappointed?” She asked and lowered the blanket a little.

“No! Not disappointed!”

She raised it back up, but the damage had already been done and I caught a quick glimpse of her plump and tender breasts.

“Sorry,” she said, “I really should have asked if that was okay.”

“It’s fine. I’m just nervous. They...you look nice. Really,” I admitted.

“Hate to disappoint you further, but nothing’s going to happen, either,” she continued, “not before I get some food in me, anyway. I’m famished.”

“I’m not really looking for something to happen, anyway,” which was true. I mean, would be nice, but would also be quite sudden and she still had the whole issue with post-drunk sickness.

“Mind if I scoot a little closer?”

“No, that’s fine.”

She drew closer to me and the side of her arm brushed against mine. Her skin was soft and smooth with a ticklish stroke of her arm’s hair.

So what? It’s skin. It’s whatever. I have skin. I could poke a random person’s cheek and that would be just the same. It’s all just skin.

“So why France, anyway?” She asked.

Our faces are close, too. Well, at least they’re not touching like our arms. Thank goodness for shoulders.

“I have a friend online who’s french. Thought it would be nice to visit. I texted her last night on Disarray and said I’d be in the area and she said it was okay.”

“Disarray?”

“It’s a chat app! Do you not have one?”

“I’m new to the...I’ll get one,” she sounded disinterested but my eyes lit up all the same and I let loose a grin.

“You should! I can write down my name on Disarray and you can add me and then we can send each other memes later!” I clammed up just as fast as my excitement reared its ugly head and I thought it would have turned her off but instead, she said:

“Sure. I’d like that. So tell me about this friend?”

“Well...her name’s Kitten. On Disarray, anyway! Her name in real life which I guess we’re in right now is Adrienne, but she probably wouldn’t want me telling you that as she’s a private person.”

“Mm...cute name. Got a crush on her?”

“No! Well...maybe I have a few times. I’ve had crushes on all my friends at some point! Like, I got one friend named Dennys, he’s a stoner guy and he’s a real ass, but he also skateboards and has nice shaggy hair and I don’t know. He said once he got his name ‘cause he fell asleep while high in a Dennys parking lot.”

“Interesting. And what about Kitten. What’s she like?”

“Well, she’s nice, and cute, and funny. Sends me funny things and likes to give me ideas. She’s got long, curly brown hair and glasses and long nails.”

“Hm. Hm. I see. So that’s what you’re into.”

“No! I’m into...whatever it is I’m into.”

“So if I become one of your friends you’d have a crush on me too?”

“I...I…” I got all choked up for no reason at all, “I don’t know how to answer that.”

“That’s fine. There’s no telling what the future holds.”

“Speaking of future!” I changed the topic before any awkward silence could ensue, “what about breakfast?”

“Do I have to get up?” She whined, “I was kind of thinking of breakfast in bed.”

“There’s not a stove, nor do I have ingredients to cook you something, otherwise sure,” I informed her although it was already pretty obvious. “Maybe we could order something?”

“With your horrible French?”

“You heard that?!”

“Pretty sure most people here know English as well. It would have been less insulting to admit you don’t know French.”

“How about we try one of those brunch places?” I suggested and ignored her criticism. “Like a cafe or what have you.”

“But then I’d have to go out in the sunlight and it will burn me up,” she whined.

“What are you, a vampire?”

“No, but I’ve still got a bit of a hangover.”

“It’s going to hurt at first, but then it’ll feel good,” I spoke from experience. Not quite hangovers, but those particular days where I would wake up and the brightness levels of the sun just happened to be cranked way, way up.

“Oh. Oh my,” she chuckled with one hand over her mouth, “will it now?”

“Would you cut that out?” I asked. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

She cackled and stood up, only to wobble about from dizziness and fall back. I managed to catch her in my arms and felt the warmth of her back upon me. She just leaned her head back and smiled.

“Nice catch.”

“Be careful,” I scolded, “here, I’ll hold onto you if you’d like. Just until you’ve adjusted.”

“Like this, people might get the wrong idea,” she closed her eyes and let her voice drift off, “it goes against my usual hard exterior. But just for today, I would like to be helped.”

My hands were so close. I hoped she would get up so I could let go.

“Before we get on our way, would you like to feel?” She offered.

What kind of fucking mind reader is she?

“Um. Later. We’re hungry. You have a hangover. Remember?”

“Ah, ha ha, you’re right,” she leaned her head back and laughed though in such a way that her hot breath found its way right into my ear.

God damn, you’re so close. I shouldn’t be thinking this but I’m pretty sure your breath is sour, too.

“Do you have a toothbrush?” I asked.

“Not on me.”

I could let her borrow mine, but then what would I brush my teeth with? It’s not like my breath is any better.

“Would you be okay waiting here while I go and buy you a toothbrush and toothpaste? Don’t bother with paying me back, they’re cheap things.”

Oh, and also I should get her a shirt since she doesn’t like that tux. Though I’m sure it looks good on her.

“It pains for us to part, but very well. I shall wait for you, my love,” she held her hand out and it was clear she didn’t mind.

An hour must have passed of perusing various shops and all the while guilt ate at me. We were both hungry, weren’t we? And the longer she waited for me, the hungrier she would be. What kind of food did she even like? What kind of food did I even like?

I should at least know the answer to that one. I usually have...jelly toast? Fuck. I need to eat more.

When I returned to the hotel with a fresh bought corduroy cardigan and a toothbrush with a tube of toothpaste in tow, I stopped at the front desk.

“Hi. I’m in room 420. I’d like to extend our stay one more night,” I uttered in a flurry, “here’s another hundred. Keep the change.”

“Uh-huh,” the front desk agent wasn’t Brittany this time. It was a tall, thin dude named Lyon. He seemed friendly but also bored.

“Merde!” I thanked him as I ran back up the stairs.

When I opened the door to our hotel room, I caught my short-term companion fast asleep under the covers. Seeing her sleep so peacefully gave me the intense urge to go back out and get cymbals, then start banging them. But that just wouldn’t do.

Instead, I took the delicate approach and threw the cardigan at her.

“Weh!” She squealed as she squirmed and thrashed about.

“Got you a shirt! And toothbrush!” I announced.

“What the hell?! Who does that? Who just throws things at people?” She drummed up a list of complaints. “And I wasn’t asleep long, I swear. You could have just wanted for me to wake up on my own…” She continued to drum up her complaints as she put the cardigan on. Part of me wondered whether they were legitimate or if that too was part of her teasing.

“Je suis enchanté, shall we head out for brunch?” I tried my hand at some fancy verbiage once again. She nodded, then stood up. Really, she was charming with that cardigan on. The tips of its sleeves were red, the striped with purple, and then violet. Each side of the cardigan was a salmon-pink color and the middle seams had red, white, and black stripes. Oh, and the cardigan had pockets. Essential.

We walked outside, her arm connected to mine, her head on my shoulder. Totally unprompted for the record. But it was fine. I wasn’t complaining.

“What should I call you, by the way?” I asked her, something I probably should have done a while ago.

“Nemesis,” she answered.

“Oh. Like enemy? Sounds edgy, but –” “No. Not your enemy. But I could still be your Nemesis, if you accept me.”

I froze. Not out of fear. Just a slight brain freeze. All thoughts stopped.

“I...uh...what does that mean?” I managed to spit out. She just laughed a soft laugh.

Fine. Don’t reply. I see how it is.

We found a nearby cafe and sat. I didn’t notice any dirty looks or anything like that, which I was glad for. I didn’t want to have to explain “no, we’re not a couple! I just met her yesterday!”

Nemesis ordered a mochi tiramisu with a berry smoothie and I had a parfait au lait along with an espresso.

“Ah, this truly is the life,” she sighed with pleasure as she spooned another chunk from her tiramsu.

“Is it? Maybe I eat sweets too much but I’m kinda used to this,” I said even though that parfait was out of this world crazy good.

“I don’t normally have a sweet tooth, but I think I could make an exception when it comes to you.”

“I really don’t know how to take that,” I groaned.

“You’re sweet, silly! You’re even willing to help someone like me.”

“You don’t seem that bad.”

“Bad isn’t what I aim for,” she shook her head, “I’ve just had a lot of bad days.”

“I know how that is.”

“I think I’ve just lost my way,” she twirled her spoon along the table, “I used to see myself as virtuous and now I don’t know how to see myself. It’s clear I can’t go back to how I once was, but I would like to figure out how I now want to be.”

“I’ve met people with that same struggle. I think I’ve had that struggle as well, and I don’t know what to suggest. Contentment seems like the best option but that’s easier said than done.”

“Yeah…” She sighed with a certain fondness, “it’s hard to sit still when there’s so much wrong in the world. It’s even harder to act. That said, while living in the moment may be like walking on hot coals...I’ve enjoyed these moments with you.”

Forget warm, throw hot out the window: my head became a boiling kettle. I could swear that steam whistled out of each ear.

Play it cool...play it cool…

I laughed. Yeah. That’s all I did. I laughed until tears fell out and I had to wipe them away. When I managed to calm myself down, I answered:

“Me too.”

Nemesis and I split up after brunch. She said she wanted some time alone for a few hours and I was antsy to met up with Kitten. Before we split, we laid out a plan for later: I gave her the keys to the hotel room and told her I extended our stay for one more night. She promised to stick around and we even exchanged numbers. Later that evening, we would go out for dinner (though I couldn’t imagine anything too fancy without a reservation) then turn in for the night back at the hotel.

But of course, everything in order, right?

First thing’s first: had to attend to the kitten with a capital ‘K’.

Now, she was in a different department than the one I was in, but I had my plane and its noise levels were pretty low. I’m sure nobody saw me take flight, right? Moving on, once I arrived on her doorstep in her quaint commune, I pressed the button on her doorbell in rapid succession until the door at last opened. No, I wasn’t brimming with energy, but rather brimming with hot jumping beans.

Those beans bounced around harder upon seeing her face with her long, curly brown hair which reached down to her waist and her long, dark purple fingernails. Then there were those big glasses and her hazel eyes…

“Hey, good to see you,” her voice was low and soft, mixed with a slow tenseness. I raised my hand up to greet her back.

“Hey. Your voice is just as lovely in person as it is in voice chat!”

“That’s not true. It’s deep and stiff. Not cute like yours.”

“Bweh,” I stuck my tongue out, “I say yours is lovely so it must be true.”

“Do you wanna come in and pet my kitty?” She asked and worked up a small smile, “she’s fat and needy.”

“As all good kitties should be,” I smiled wide and entered. Her house was quaint with much old furniture. There was an orange linen chair, a crocheted sofa, and a splintered, unvarnished coffee table. Splayed across the chair was the tabby cat, who rolled about on the chair and purred.

“Aww,” I reached my hand down to rub the kitty’s tummy and the cat curled up and reached her hand down to try to bite me. I pulled my hand back and Kitten laughed.

“Heh, she’s like that,” Kitten said and I knew how cats were, yet that trick seemed to get me every time.

“Sorry about the short notice, by the way. Yesterday was wild. I didn’t plan on coming here,” I told her, although I sure took the opportunity as soon as it arose.

“It seems a lot of days are wild for you.”

“Yeah. The people I hang around sure are something else. Demetria herself is quite the character.”

“Not you, though,” she joked.

“Yes. Not me. I’m not interesting enough to be a character.”

“Says the one who flew a plane all the way over here and hired an escort.”

“No! You misunderstand! I didn’t say anything about an escort. I said that I was escorting someone.”

“Oh, so you’re the escort.”

“No! Stop with that.”

“What’s she like, anyway?”

“Honestly, quite the character as well. We’re sharing a hotel room and are gonna have dinner later. I’d say she’s nice but she’s also quite strange.”

“Oh, I see,” Kitten teased. God damn, why was everyone teasing me? So mean. “No wonder you look so happy. Got yourself a dinner date then gonna sleep with her after.”

I huffed.

“Just sleep. Nothing else. No sexy times. I just met her. I’m not the type to have sex with people I just met.”

“Really, happy for you,” she smiled, “kind of jealous, in fact.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous over. We could go out for lunch...if I was hungry. Here! Let’s have lunch tomorrow. Just the two of us. What do you say?”

“I would love that lots much.”

We headed out and checked the nearby shops in the area. One place we stopped at was a hat shop where despite not buying anything we checked out just about every hat on display.

“Look!” I had a red bell-shaped hat on my head.

“Cloche!” She answered. She placed on a longer brimmed hat made of…

“Straw!”

We took turns putting on hats and naming what the other was wearing.

“Beret!”

“Pillbox!”

“Fez!”

“Sombrero!”

“Beanie!”

When we were done visiting all the shops that interested us, I asked where she would like to have lunch. I didn’t see many places for food, but I had a plane and she knew the area better than I did.

“Hmm...there’s a good sushi bar in the next town over. We could go there by bus,” she suggested.

“Sure! Sushi is yum!”

Before we parted, I reached in and gave her a tight hug. She held tight as well and rubbed my back before we parted. With each of us smiling, I waved.

“Tomorrow,” I said.

“Tomorrow,” she agreed.

Close to dinner time, I returned to the hotel and expected her to have been...wait. What did I expect from her? I really didn’t know. Like, was she just supposed to sit still on the bed until I got back? That sounded boring, and that’s coming from me. Of course, whatever I expected when I opened the door, it certainly wasn’t seeing Nemesis’ attire changed to a sports bra and short black shorts as she punched and kicked at a punching bag she hung up from the ceiling.

Right jab, left hook. Swift uppercut. Knee kick, high kick, roundhouse. Covered in sweat, relentless.

“What the…” I mouthed, jaw dropped to the floor. She turned, stopped what she was doing, and smiled.

“Hey, how was your hangout?” She held the punching bag in place, shimmied out of her sports bra and threw her cardigan and pair of slacks back on, all as if it was no big deal.

“Good,” was all I could say, as I pointed to the punching bag. Then back to her. Then back to the bag.

Now I’m on a horse, I completed the thought, though it was rather nonsensical.

“Oh yeah. Bought some things while I was out. Surprised? I have money too, you know, Cybele.”

“I’m...glad? But...why?”

“Exercise. Feels good to get the blood flowing.”

I guess?!

“Feeling better, I take it? How’s your head?”

“Tormented by thoughts,” she joked. Or at least I figured it was a joke, “but that aside, much better.”

“Good. You ready for dinner?”

“Yeah. Got a place in mind?”

“No. I figured we’d find somewhere along the way,” I admitted.

“God, you’re hopeless,” she smiled and shook her head.

“What?! Can you be nice? Please?”

“Yes, yes, sorry. I figured you’d be preoccupied, so I found us a place. How’s La Cave Du Salut sound?”

“No idea what that’s like so I’m down,” I shrugged.

“Good. I’ve no clue either, name just sounded neat.”

I got on my jacket and expected her to follow behind.

“You go ahead without me. I need to get something real quick.”

“Uh...okay,” that sounded strange, but what part of her hadn’t been? And seeing as she so far wasn’t the bad kind of strange, I obliged.

When I exited the hotel and met the stiff, dry air, my heart leaped as I was pulled back with something wrapped around my neck. I would have fallen if not for the hand on my back. As I looked down, I noticed the object: a soft, fleece orange and purple swirled scarf. I blinked as I reached up and felt its softness upon the tips of my palms.

“Hey!” Came her voice so close to my ear.

“What’s this?”

“A scarf, silly.”

“Yes, but why’s it on me?”

“You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that,” she let go and I wrapped it further around me, “it’s great, I’m just surprised.”

“Hey, you got me a shirt. I’m just getting you something too.”

“Yeah, but you needed a shirt,” I pointed out.

“And you’ll need something covering your neck after tonight,” she winked and walked past me. My mouth twisted and contorted without making any sound until I caught up to her and gasped, “what’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You know, because when you get back to the arctic you’ll be cold,” she laughed, and I could tell there was some kind of double meaning she wasn’t elaborating on.

The walk wasn’t far and leave it to Nem to have a reservation in place (how she did it, I may never know) as we were ushered to our seats within a few minutes.

Nemesis ordered a carbonnade normande (some beef dish), while I got myself a cabillaud à la normande (cod). As for drinks…

“Miss madame, may I have a cider?” Nemesis pleaded in a tone which reminded me of a poor Victorian orphan.

“Yeah, yeah, as long as you get water with it,” I played along in an ambivalent New Yorker tone.

As for myself, I just had water. Sorry.

We ate our first bites and let out a sigh of pleasure from the delicious and juicy taste that had entered our mouths. After taking a sip from our glasses of water, Nemesis pointed to my plate with her fork.

“You didn’t get a lot. Are you planning for dessert?”

“Hmm...probably not. The dessert looks delicious but I don’t know if I should get that much. The food here’s kind of expensive.”

“Please, Cybele,” she dismissed, “eat and drink what you like. Pay no mind to the price. I will pay for the both of us.”

“No way,” I crossed my arms together, “we can split the bill if you want. We can pay for our own portions. But there is NO reason you need to pay for me. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“How right you are,” she cracked a smile, “you paid for our room for two nights. You also paid for our lunch. I’m sure the scarf I bought you must have cost less than the shirt, but seeing as I don’t know how much you paid, I can only guess. Buying your dinner still doesn’t make up for what you’ve done for me.”

“The cost isn’t important,” I argued, “and besides, those things were things you needed. You needed a room to stay, and you needed a shirt. I didn’t need a scarf and I don’t need you paying for my meal.”

That didn’t seem to faze her and if anything, she made a sneering grunt and countered:

“You also didn’t need to pay for the second night. You also didn’t need to pay for my lunch. As for my stay in a hotel, sure, that’s where I requested, but that doesn’t mean that’s where I needed to be. You also didn’t need to stick around.”

“But your hangover.”

“Heh, yeah. Nasty thing. I’m just saying, what I’m doing is hardly spoiling and I’m still trying to find ways to make this even. Wants, needs, irrelevant to me. You helped me when I needed help, and for that, I would like to help you when in need as well. You gifted me things, paid for my meal? I would like to do the same.”

“But, but, but –”

“Let’s put it in simpler terms: you give me something, I will want to give you something in return. You take from me, I will want to take from you.”

I gulped.

“Take?”

“Let’s say you take my heart,” she joked, “I will want to take yours as well.”

“Sheesh,” I scoffed, “I thought you sounded threatening at first.”

“Not threatening,” she said while taking a sip from her cider, “just the way I view things.”

“Interesting.”

“I’m not saying it’s a perfect way to live, or that it’s the most reasonable, but it’s what makes sense to me.”

“Say, where are you going to go after tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nowhere. Maybe I’ll find a nice spot in a park somewhere or some abandoned factory. I’m not picky.”

“Wait, are you homeless?”

“Sort of. Not from lack of funds. I was pretty broke for a while up until I met my employer and he gave me a place to stay but it was a temporary gig and now I gotta look for a place. I can afford one, but given I’ve only just gotten paid, I haven’t had a chance to look.”

“I know this is sudden, but I’ve got a place back in Alaska. It’s sitting empty and I haven’t used it since last year, but it’s still in my name and paid for. If you want a place to stay, I don’t mind.”

“Ahaha!” She slammed her fist on the table. “What are you doing? Spoiling me again so soon?”

“It’s not spoiling, it’s –”

“Yeah, yeah. Helping. I get it. But you do realize that even the rich, maybe especially the rich, don’t help to such a degree.”

“Yeah, well...I like to,” I puffed my cheeks.

“Tell you what: I’ll think about it. It’s a bit of a ways away, and as fast as I may go with my armor, may still take me a little while. I don’t want you flying me there. Just text me the address or something. I’m fine checking into motel rooms along the way in the meantime. It’s just...how am I supposed to pay you back? I suppose I could work on the upkeep. Make renovations. It’s still not enough, but it’s what I got.”

“Don’t worry about payback.”

“Ah, but such things do worry me,” she leaned back in her seat, “still, Alaska, huh? Interesting.”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“I was born in Alaska. In a little log cabin in the woods. Pretty remote place, used to go hunting with my dad. Well, animals. I didn’t hunt people with him.”

“Ah, so it’s got a bit of sentimental value for you?”

“You could say that. My mom disappeared without a word one day. Soon after, my father died. I ended up being adopted into a family, the Clements, and we moved into Back Bay City, a place up north in Canada.”

“Oh. Sorry for your loss.”

“Eh. Don’t sweat it,” she still smiled, but her voice took on that more apologetic tone she held when I carried her to my plane the night prior. Her words became slower, heavier, “You had nothing to do with it. I’m pretty much over it, anyway. It was a long time ago.”

“That’s good, at least.”

“Yeah,” she twirled her fork along the table, “it would be good, wouldn’t it?”

I looked around the dining area; every seat filled, lit candles on every table, plaid placemats. Couples talking. Friends. Families. Not so much anyone alone. What did that make us? Part of the crowd like them? All of those people looked like someone I’ve seen before, but I’ve never been any of those people.

A few seats down, there was a portly man with a tuxedo with the buttons coming undone. He had sideburns and leaned back in his seat, held a steak up to his face with both hands. Across from him, a woman in a red dress, curly hair, eating from a charcuterie board. Other seats down, two men with slicked back hair eating oysters. Two women sharing the same plate, one eating the fries and the other eating the burger.

Will Nemesis get mad when she notices I’m focusing on other people?

“I wonder what their lives are like,” she commented, and I noticed she was looking around as well, “like maybe that guy cheated on his partner. If so, I would like to know so I could tell said partner. Or maybe that girl over there,” she pointed elsewhere, “maybe she’s been down on her luck. Maybe some good fortune should come her way. Or what about that guy, maybe he helped an old lady cross the street. Maybe someone could help him carry his groceries into his house. I don’t know.”

“Pfft,” I snorted, “I really don’t know what any of these people are like. Besides, aren’t we good sometimes and bad other times?”

She crossed her arms and we locked eyes. It looked like a frown at first with the lighting from the candle illuminating her face, but really, she remained smiling.

“I suppose. Right now, would you say you’re a bad girl, or a good girl?”

“I’m a…” I chugged down my water, “I don’t know. I’m just existing, aren’t I?”

“And here I am, glad you exist.”

The heat from the candle must have got to me as my cheeks turned warm. Or maybe it was something in the food I ate. Either way, I couldn’t make heads or tails of how to feel.

We arrived back at the hotel, arms locked in each other, fingers connected. I didn’t know how or why it happened but I just let it happen regardless.

Nemesis ran in as soon as I opened the door and fell face first onto the bed. She lifted the cardigan up to her face and rubbed her head against it.

“Mm...I’m going to treasure this, I really will. It’s so soft,” she gushed.

“Will you now?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yes. And what of you? Will you treasure that scarf around your neck?”

“Of course. That goes without saying,” I rubbed the scarf up to my cheek, “see?”

She looked up, tilted her head, and grinned to the point where her dimples showed through.

How is she this adorable?

I couldn’t help myself. Something took over and I think I blamed the cool night air and the carefree day I’ve had as I just went for it: I plopped down on the bed right beside her.

I turned to her and almost regretted it – our faces were so close! I could stare right into her green eyes and get lost in its fields. Not to mention her constant smile had a playful, inviting feel to it. I felt her warm, steamy breath upon me. It made me dizzy, it made my head spin in place.

“Wait. Did you brush your teeth?”

She huffed a thick cloud of minty air into my face and I coughed as the chilly yet pleasant scent was too much to bear.

“Good,” I wheezed.

“And you? Have you been good?”

“Yes,” I said without feeling the need for theatrics. Of course, that wouldn’t stop her, as she held my chin up and stared down into my eyes. I felt the burning, piercing gaze, and I feared I might melt.

“May I check to make sure? With my tongue?” She asked as if she thought she wasn’t being subtle enough.

“O...of course,” I muttered.

She took each hand and pinned me down onto the bed, sat up over me and leaned down. Her mouth pressed against mine, she opened wide and slipped her tongue inside, danced it around with mine and I knew then I was at her mercy.

When she released and sat back up, she pulled off her cardigan and leaned back against the wall. I crawled over to her and she ruffled my hair. My hands were so close until she had other plans and held up the bottom of my shirt. I nodded, and she took it off for me, and all I had to do was shimmy out of the sleeves. Once that was on the floor, she could see my chest as well. Did she view mine as inadequate due to its smallness? How they seemed less like lumps and more dots, tacked on like an afterthought.

There was no time to dwell on comparisons, as she reached out and ran her fingers along my nipples, pinched them, and caressed. Whatever afterthought they may be, the sensation was the same as I couldn’t deny the warmth of her touch and at first I reeled back and felt ticklish, but not repulsed. If anything, more welcome than before. I blew air out my nose and I couldn’t help but let out soft sighs.

I reached out as well. It couldn’t just be her, as magnificent as her touch was. My hands reached toward and felt around her supple breasts and giving light squeezes. I held on, cupped them, and looked up, smiling at her. She heaved, shivered, and smiled an uneasy smile. My smile must have been just as uneasy, and just as delighted to be in her company.

We leaned in for another kiss as we held onto each other’s chests. Through our kisses came heavy sighs and my hands moved from her chest to her back as I held on tight. When we let go I was left panting and she caressed my cheek, then undid the buttons to her slacks and slipped them off. What I first noticed were her silken peach colored panties with a little bow on top of the lining. What I noticed next were her large, muscular thighs.

Without knowing what I wanted to do next, I asked, “may I?”

“Of course,” her soft voice rang in my ear and I dove in and kissed along her thighs, then kissed over her panties before raising myself up and let my hand slide under her panties to meet the warm and wet embrace as I slipped two fingers in. As I stroked along, I leaned up and wrapped my mouth around her left breast. I ran my tongue around her nipple and sucked while quickening the pace of my strokes below. She held me tight, dug her nails into my back and yelped. The sharp sensation caused me to stop what I was doing and let out a gasp.

She laughed, shoved me down onto my back and gave a sequences of kisses and bites along my neck and chest. Each sensation no matter how soft felt intense and she continued down, nibbled along my nipples and caused me to let out a series of whimpers and gasps.

As she reached her hand down under my pants I shut down and let out a different kind of gasp: one of a flushed dread.

“Wait!” I stopped her. “Are you sure...you won’t be repulsed?”

She nodded, and I gulped. Such worries hadn’t left me, but I let her continue as I soon felt her warm hands meet what I was afraid of; yet rather than recoil, or reel back, she looked up at me and gave a sweet smile. Soon, I felt light, slow strokes along my shaft and up to the base. She pulled out, then unzipped my jeans and pulled them down.

My face, for whatever reason a red mess, relaxed and I smiled up at her. Her smile, however, lowered.

“Now, I must warn you,” she turned serious, “while I didn’t bring my strap, I can be quite intense.”

“Go on,” I gave a nervous approval.

I didn’t yet know what would ensue, or how. Naive I was at the aches and thunderous cries that would follow, along with me reduced to a quivering mess. Yet it would all be worth it when a couple hours after, us both exhausted, I would be sound asleep with a smile on my face and her head rested on my chest.

[samanthadalton]

Slowly falling (part 3 finale)

And here we are!! last part of the fic, I hope you guys enjoyed it. I ended it just at the end of the pool scene but I know in my version, Nicole is dead so the story would obviously play out different. So in this version, Nicole is actually a vampire and when Kamilah buried her, it helped Nicole not turn feral since Vega fed her his blood before the attack on the castle. So Nicole would obviously come out during the tribunal to back up Vega’s claims in which Adrian would be found guilty and then the gang will break him out and you guys know the rest :)

also i took some lines from the book, bc the pool scene is just too good :))))

slightly NSFW (but quite tame but I’ll tag it as that anyway)  also mentions of death 

taglist: @cloud9in @alleycat97 @thedaft1 @mrs-avamontjoy @itszdavenport @iamsimpforpoppy @otakufangirl-12 @orisasay @justavampirefan @waterinathermostat @bloodkueen @dimis-yiddies @alexlabhont @thepotatobleh @mara-re @fundamentalromantic 

wordcount: 2.5k 

Amy wakes up, dazed. Her eyelids feel heavy as she blinks away the last remains of her sleep, wondering when she went to sleep in the first place. As she takes in her surroundings, she sees she’s in Kamilah’s office, laying on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, unsure of where it has come from as the sun begins to set. She rubs her eyes sitting up to see Lily typing away at Kamilah’s desk, looking slightly zombified as her fingers fly over the keyboard. 

“Hey Lil?” As if in her own world, Lily continues typing, her eyes never leaving the screen. Amy amplifies her voice louder to capture her attention, “Lily!” 

“Huh,” Lily jerks her head up, her concentration breaking. “Hey Ames.” She tiredly rubs at her eyes, shaking her head a little before mustering a small smile, “sleep well?” 

Amy yawns a little smiling back, “yeah, this couch is pretty comfy. Thanks for the blanket.” 

“Oh that was Kamilah, I haven’t gotten out of this chair since we’ve come back from the gala.” Lily stretches before continuing with her typing, already back in full attention. Amy looks down at the blanket, hugging it closer to her body, feeling a glimmer of something she can’t quite put her finger on. 

“So have you found any evidence yet?” 

Lily shakes her head, “whatever Vega is hiding, he’s done a damn good job because it’s heavily encrypted, I’ve broken past so many firewalls but it feels like there's millions.” Lily runs hand down her face, “Oh yeah, Kamilah said that if you wanted to clean up she left a key to one of the rooms.” Lily gestures towards the table before refocusing. Amy stands, and swipes the key from the table before making her way to the room to clean up. Once she’s finished taking a shower, Amy chooses a new outfit from the closet and makes her way back to the office. 

“Good you’re here.” Kamilah lets her gaze roam Amy’s body for a few seconds before meeting her eyes. Amy can see the fatigueness in her demeanour, how her body is slightly slumped and her hair slightly frizzled. 

“Are there any updates?” 

Kamilah shakes her head, “not yet. If only Lily could do her job better we could actually get the evidence,” Kamilah retorts, a hint of malice in her tone. 

Frustrated Lily slams down on the desk, “hey I’ve been working on this all day. My skills are the best of the best, it’s just Vega’s is better.” Lily, downcast, looks down at the screen, her head spiralling at the sight of the numbers on the screen. 

Kamilah sighs heavily, her head hanging low, “I apologize. I’m just frustrated.” Lily musters a small smile and continues typing away on the keyboard but Kamilah stands from her chair and lays her hand over the young vampire’s stopping her, “I think that’s enough.” 

“But Adrian-” 

“He will know we did our best with the time we had. There are only a couple of hours until the tribunal, it’s inconsequential at this point.” 

“But how will we know what Vega is hiding?” Amy interferes. 

Kamilah looks at Amy, “we won’t until it’s presented.” Her head turns back to Lily, “I think since you and Amy were at the castle it’s only fitting that you two testify on Adrian’s behalf.”  

“Of course,” the girls say simultaneously. 

Kamilah gives a satisfied nod, ”we’ll reconvene in an hour, I’m going to go for a swim. Lily you should get some sleep.” Kamilah makes her way to the door but before she leaves she throws her head over her shoulder, her eyes blazing into Amy’s, “and Amy you’re welcome to join me.” Kamilah turns her head and continues walking. 

Amy looks in surprise as she whispers to Lily, “what should I do?” 

“Girl why are you still here? Go!” Lily shoos Amy out of the door. 

Amy trudges up to Kamilah as they wordlessly enter the elevator together. Amy can see a hint of a smile on Kamilah’s lips as they go up to the rooftop. As the doors open, Amy lets out a short gasp. A gorgeous pool lies in the middle of the rooftop, the water glimmering under the moonlight as the stars sparkle overhead. 

“Woah, and I thought Adrian’s rooftop restaurant was nice.” 

Kamilah merely shrugs her shoulders, “Adrian finds solace in the company of others. I find it in solitude. Swimming here alone, under the stars...it brings me peace.” 

Amy cocks her head slightly to look at the other vampire, “but you invited me up here.” 

“So I did.” Kamilah replies, Amy waits for something, instead Kamilah paces over to the bar, reaching behind it. She gives Amy a conspiratorial look, “drink?” 

“Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

Kamilah begins mixing together a concoction of liquor before pouring it into 2 glasses. She hands one of the glasses to Amy before settling down on a lounge chair. Amy assesses the milky white liquid before taking a small sip, she squirms slightly as she coughs slightly, “it’s certainly strong!” 

“That’s what makes it good,” Kamilah watches as Amy takes a bigger sip, her features in more control as she enjoys the drink, “It’s Arak. Distilled from anise seed.” Kamilah takes a huge gulp of the drink as she looks out to the sky, while Amy takes a seat on the lounge chair near her. 

“Thank you Kamilah.” 

“For what?” 

Amy shrugs as she gazes off into the distance, her hand swirling the drink in the cup, “everything I guess. For helping Lily, Adrian,” she pauses, “me.” 

“Of course, I know Adrian would do the same if he were in my position.” 

Amy nods, “knowing him, he probably would.” 

Kamilah gives Amy a side glance, looking for something but she can’t quite put her finger on it. When she doesn’t find what she’s searching for, she places her drink down and begins unbuttoning her shirt before sliding it off her body, exposing her smooth toned upper body. 

Amy's eyes widen, “oh!” She awkwardly glances away, as Kamilah places her hands on her trousers, smoothly slipping them off. “You’re taking off your clothes. That’s a thing you’re doing.” Amy gulps uneasily, trying her damndest not to make her gawking conspicuous. 

“Well I’m not going to swim in my suit,” Kamilah bluntly answers as she enters the swimming pool. She begins swimming a few laps as Amy looks at the water droplets glimmering off of her body, only accentuating her curves more. She stops swimming before looking up at Amy expectedly, “coming?” 

Amy pauses momentarily before nodding, “yes,” she hesitantly glances over at Kamilah whose gaze is still burning on her, as she slips off her clothes, folding them neatly onto the chair before she dives into the pool. When she reaches the surface, she slicks back her wet hair, “it’s cold.” 

“Is it? I didn’t notice.” Amy turns on her back and floats towards Kamilah who’s already aimlessly floating, together they stare up at the sky, lost in the shimmering of the stars. A few moments later Kamilah breaks the silence, “it’s funny,” when she speaks her usual commanding hilt is gone and replaced with something softer, more resonating with the voice Kamilah used when she was helping Amy after discovering Nicole’s body. “How old are you Amy 23?” 

“24,” Amy replies.

Kamilah chuckles, “I remember that age. I thought I knew everything. I thought I’d felt all there was to feel. I imagine you feel the same way.” 

Amy gingerly answers, “I guess? I mean I feel like I’ve been through a lot.” Kamilah turns her head to face Amy, and when their eyes meet, the older vampire’s eyes look so deep they almost look bottomless.

“Have you ever been in love?” 

The question catches Amy off guard, as she shoots her eyebrows up. “Once.” Kamilah curiously cocks her head as she appraises the tenderness in Amy’s tone. Amy gazes back up to the sky, as if the stars are painted in her eyes, “Christopher. He- he was a childhood friend of mine. Everyone used to always make jokes that we were dating but it wasn’t until we were freshman in highschool when he asked me out.” Amy’s lips quirk up slightly, “I felt like the happiest girl in the world. We both even agreed to go to college in New York. He got into Columbia and I got into NYU.” 

“What happened?” 

“Our first year in college was the worst.” Amy’s eyes darken, a somber look in her eyes as she recollects, “we agreed to live together while we were in college but we ended up fighting all the time. During our Sophomore year, we agreed to break up. I moved out and ended up moving in with Lily.” Amy lets out an airy laugh, “but that’s a story for another time. Anyway, I was so heartbroken during my college years, I tried moving on but it didn’t feel right. Fast forward to the end of my Junior year and we randomly bumped each other. We got to talking and decided to get back together again. We agreed to take it slow, so I was still living with Lily.” 

“Well I’m guessing it didn’t work out.” 

“No.” Amy’s eyes glisten with tears as she blinks them away, her voice becomes hoarse as she continues, “a few months after college, Chris, he was- he was walking through the park, and I guess he was attacked by a wild animal but the police found his body torn to pieces.” 

Kamilah grimaces, and apologetically reaches out to Amy, and rubs her arm, “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Now that I think about it, it wasn’t a wild animal.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I keep getting flashbacks to what happened in Marcel’s castle. The bodies, the way they were shredded to pieces I-” Amy cuts herself off, as she swallows down her sobs. 

“You think it was a feral?” Kamilah knits her brows together, following suit as Amy pulls herself out of the pool, grabbing a towel to dry herself off.

“I know it is. It’s why I became so triggered I guess, with everything that happened with Nicole. All the memories of his body just came flooding back and I panicked. I-” Amy closes her eyes, taking a slow steadying breath. 

“I’m sorry for asking, I did not realise this was a sore subject.” 

Amy shakes her head, “it’s not your fault, it’s just hard sometimes. For months I didn’t leave my house and it wasn’t until Lily practically forced me to start being more outgoing. She’s the one who told me to go for the job of Adrian’s assistant.” 

“I guess we have to thank her for that.” Kamilah speaks softly, her eyes boring into Amy’s and Amy can see the genuinity behind her eyes. 

“So why did you ask about my love life?” 

Kamilah presses her lips together in thought, “mere curiosity. It’s been a while since I’ve spent my time with someone with so many attachments. The company of vampires tends to make you jaded. It’s nice to be with someone so uncynical. So open to new possibilities.” 

Amy gives Kamilah a small smile, “well you’re welcome for giving you a fresh perspective.” Amy smiles hoping to alleviate the tension a little bit, but the somber look on Kamilah’s face causes her to knit her brows together in thought, huh, she thinks to herself. Maybe Kamilah isn’t as tough as she makes out to be. “Kamilah?” 

Kamilah hums, “yes?” 

“Doesn’t everyone have someone they’re attached to, I mean without Lily, I don’t know where I would be today.” 

Kamilah purses her lips in thought, “no, no they don’t.” 

“But you love Adrian.” 

“I’m quite fond of him, yes. Which perhaps is an illusion itself, because he reminds me of my brother.” 

“But you have loved.” 

“Many times.” Kamilah’s face drops, her voice quiet, “and lost. Just as many.” When Amy meets her eyes, she can see the sadness brimming in the surface of them, 2000 years worth of pain and loss just merely breaking the surface.

“2000 years is a long time.” 

“It defies imagining.” 

“You’re right. I can’t imagine even a small percent of what you’ve seen.” 

“And I’ve seen a lot. I’ve watched empires rise and fall. I’ve watched the world transform right in front of me and yet I-” Kamilah presses her lips together in a thin line, a pensive look on her face. Kamilah sharply inhales, “I’ve felt everything that there is to feel, I’ve loved, lost, grieved, but now, I feel like an empty vessel. Just detached from everything.” Kamilah looks away, as Amy watches as she transforms her expression back into her usual icy demeanour, as if the last few minutes did not exist. 

“I might not know a lot Kamilah,” Amy takes a step towards the older vampire, “but I know that you are so much more than you think you are.” 

“Please,” Kamilah scoffs, but behind the harshness, Amy can see she’s touched by her words. 

“I’m serious. You are incredible. I’m purely in awe of you every single moment.” 

“You don’t need to fuel my ego, I don’t need your pity.” 

“Pity isn’t what I feel at all.” 

“Oh? And what do you feel?” And in that moment, Amy can see the earnestness in Kamilah’s words. 

“Connection. Admiration,” Amy hesitates for a second, “infatuation.” 

Kamilah raises an eyebrow as Amy takes a step closer to her, closing the gap between the two. Wordlessly, Amy tilts her head up, and presses a soft kiss against Kamilah’s lips. When Kamilah doesn’t reciprocate the kiss, she steps back flushed, “I’m sorry.” 

Kamilah places her forefinger against Amy’s lips silencing her, “don’t be.” 

In her eyes shine conviction as her finger trails down Amy’s body before her hand cups her hip, Kamilah leans down, capturing Amy in a long kiss, the kiss full of ecstasy, driving Amy into a euphoric state. Kamilah kisses Amy harder, her tongue snakes into her mouth, eliciting a small moan from the human. Kamilah groans slightly, her hold on Amy’s waist tightening as she leads her to the lounge chair before pushing Amy flat out on it, covering her body with hers. Kamilah dominates the kiss, her kiss full of passion, as if she’s yearning for the desire it brings her. Her eyes flash red as her knee pressing against Amy’s core, evoking a small moan from the girl. Kamilah smiles devilishly, as Amy’s hips buck against her knee, slowly rubbing trying to gain any friction that will bring her pleasure. Kamilah brings her hand under Amy’s chin and kisses her breathless. Eventually the kiss breaks for the much needed air, and the atmosphere is quiet, but charged with electricity. Kamilah rests her forehead against Amy’s as the human pants heavily, and as their eyes meet, everything feels different. 

“We should get going, the tribunal is soon.” Amy swallows heavily and nods, the wind still knocked out of her after the kiss. Kamilah smiles as she climbs off her, and offers her hand for Amy to stand. “Come on.” The women silently make their way to the elevator, but Amy feels different, she feels something that she hasn’t felt since Chris and as she gazes at Kamilah, she can see she feels the same. 

[loving-barnes]

TED MOSBY – THE ONE (1)

(A/N): I needed a change and I have decided to write a HIMYM fanfic. This might have two or three parts. I have been watching the whole show again and honesly, I am obsessed with Ted. So... if you like or love  HIMYM, this one is for you. Also, this is around season 5 mixed with an AU. 

Pairing: Ted Mosby x reader

Warnings: none

Words: 2013

TED MOSBY – THE ONE

After all the break-ups and girls, he was ready to settle down. Usually, when he found a girl and started dating her, he would tell his friends that someone new came into his life. Maybe because of that his relationships didn’t work out. Maybe… This time, he decided to keep it as private as possible and not tell them about the new woman in his life until they were ready. It was a mutual decision. She was glad that he proposed the idea because she was only in one relationship before Ted and so, she wanted to take things a bit slow.

They would hang out together when Ted’s roommate was away or they would stay at her place because she lived alone.

“My friends come and go into our apartment, so it’s better we are mostly crashing at your place. And besides, I love it here,” said Ted to Y/N when they spend their three-month anniversary at her place. It was a simple Chinese takeout night with Star Wars. Ted wanted to watch it, just to be sure she loved the movies as much as he did.

“This is my favourite part,” she squealed excitedly.

Ted’s eyes widened and he looked at her. He stopped breathing for a moment and just stared at her face, noticing how her eyes were sparkling and he just knew that she was the one, at least the one worth saying those three powerful words.

Y/N turned to him with a smile. “What’s up?” she asked.

“I love you,” he said – simple, short and powerful.

Her hand reached for the remote control and she paused the movie. After that, she put down her plate with food and again turned to him. “Really?”

Ted nodded, still smiling. It was a genuine smile that she loved so much. “I mean it. I love you.”

And then she was on him, kissing him deeply. Then she realised one unpleasant thing. She pulled away from him. “I’m so sorry, my breath after the spicy chicken…”

“That’s alright,” he leaned to her again, capturing her lips with his.

After the kiss, she curled to his side with a plastered smile on her face. “I love you too, Ted.”

In the end, it was a good thing they decided to keep it low-key. This way, they could enjoy their time together and cherish their moments without being interrupted by Ted’s friends, mostly Barney.

Even though Barney had a thing for Robin, he would hit on Y/N a lot – Ted was sure of it. Deep down, he was scared to introduce his new girlfriend to Barney.

“Ted?” Y/N asked him the next morning when they were having a very early breakfast before work. “If you agree and if you want, I would like to meet your friends. I think I am ready,” she said.

As much as it made him happy that she wanted to meet the people he considered as family, his gut was telling him to wait a little more. “Uhm-“ he started slowly, carefully considering his next words. “About that,” he took a deep breath. “I am so glad you want to meet my friends, but could we wait a bit more, please?”

She put down her mug with coffee. “Sure,” she didn’t know what to think. “No rush. Can I at least know why? Should I be worried or scared?” she kinked a brow.

Ted took a deep breath. She needed to know some information about his friends. “They mean well, I know that, but sometimes they can be either overprotective or make everything to make fun of me. I don’t mind the second one it’s just… it might scare you off.”

She laughed a little and bit her lower lip. “Go on,” she goaded him.

“I will come clean with you. There is this girl in our group – Robin – and we used to date for a year. I don’t have any feelings for her. She is just a friend and a family, nothing more. Lily, she still thinks I might have feelings for her. I don’t. The only feelings I have are that I love you.”

“Alright,” she nodded.

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

Y/N shook her head. “Honestly, maybe a little but overall, no. I would be more worried if you met someone after me. That I would be more worried about,” she admitted. “Anything else I should know?”

Ted was pleasantly surprised that she was fine with it. “Uh, Barney, he is a womanizer and a sociopath. In the end, he is a very good friend of mine. I just want to warn you that he might hit on you, a lot.”

“And the one named Lily?”

“Right, Lily is married to Marshall. We studied at the same university. Marshall is my best friend. Lily occasionally wants to meddle in someone’s business or relationship. Usually, it is not a bad thing.”

Y/N laughed. “Seems like you are trying to say all the negative things about your friends so I wouldn’t be too shocked.”

“Pretty much,” he nodded. “So, would you still like to meet them?”

She stood up from the chair and went to him. Without a word, she sat on his lap and gave his lips a peck. “They are your friends. I want to meet them. If they don’t like me, there is nothing I can do about it.”

“God, you are amazing,” he kissed her one more time. “How about Friday night? I will come for you and we will go to McLaren’s where we hang out most of the time.”

“Sounds like a deal,” she accepted his idea.

…

He hadn’t seen the gang for over a week. When he was done teaching architecture, he went straight to the pub where his friends would already be. And he was right. They were all sitting in their usual booth, drinking beer.

“Well, look who decided to show up,” said Lily when she noticed him coming towards them. “Where have you been most of the time? We barely have seen you this century.”

Ted took a chair and sat at the head of the table. “Sorry guys, I had a lot to do at work,” he said it as if it was true. “Sometimes, it is not easy to be a teacher.”

“Seriously Ted, what is going on?” Marshall asked him.

“Nothing, really.”

“Where’s the poop, Ted?” Lily questioned.

“There is no poop, Lily. I had to create several tests for my students, prepare the lectures and had a meeting with the school council.” He said it while directly staring into her eyes.

They were quiet for a moment until Barney decided to open his mouth. “Alright, since you are here, we shall play our favourite game to get you laid.”

“Barney, no.”

“Come on, Ted. We haven’t played it for months. FOR MONTHS, Ted,” he stood up from his seat with his scotch in a hand.

While he was babbling about it, Ted’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He received a text from Y/N.

Hi, I am passing by your street and I was wondering if you would like to hang out or something?

As much as he tried not to smile, he failed, and Robin was the one that noticed it. “Ted Mosby smiling at his phone? Something is definitely going on.”

I’m inside McLaren’s with the gang. Come here and meet everyone, if you like.

“There definitely is a poop. Spill it out, Mosby,” Robin mocked him.

He kept his mouth shut, not telling them anything. “Oh man, what did you do?” Marshall was concerned. “Ted, tell us. You have never been this silent. What happened?”

“Wait a minute,” Barney sat down and pointed at Ted’s face. “I know this face.”

And before he could say that he might meet a girl, a young woman approached the table carefully. “Ted,” said Y/N softly.

He turned his head and smiled at her. He stood up, helped her with her jacket and offer her his chair. Afterwards, he grabbed himself a new one.

“Y/N, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

Barney almost choked on his drink and thus sprayed it on Marshall and Lily who were sitting opposite them. “What? No, no! You are supposed to be my wingman. You are not supposed to date anyone for at least five years.” He left the booth and went somewhere else to cry.

“So, I guess that is Barney,” said Y/N while looking into Ted’s eyes.

“Exactly,” he nodded.

Lily was the next one to finally speak. “Hi, this is a surprise,” she stuttered. “Honestly a big surprise. I’m Lily and this is my husband, Marshall,” she pointed at the tall man next to her. “H-how long have you been together?”

“For over three months,” they said simultaneously.

“You kept it a secret for over three months? How? How did you manage to keep your mouth shut for that long?” Marshall couldn’t believe it.

Y/N was glad for a second that she was not the centre of the attention. They were bombarding Ted for trying to keep this relationship a secret. In the meantime, she ordered herself a beer.

“So, Y/N, tell us something about you? Or better, how did you two meet?” Lily turned her attention to her.

Y/N shrugged. “Honestly, there is nothing special about how we met. We simply bumped into each other on the street when suddenly, everything was on the ground and Ted was apologizing,” she smiled at the memory. “I was running to an important meeting and Ted was late for class.”

“After that, we met like a week later when I happened to be at the right time in the right place,” he looked into her eyes. “Some of my students told me that there was a reading in the library after class. I was not interested in going at all,” he admitted. “Then, they showed me the leaflet and there she was.”

“There I was,” she repeated almost inaudibly.

Barney came back to the booth with another scotch in his hand. “Traitor,” he said it out loud. “Marshall, you are my new and only wingman.”

“In your dreams,” he declined.

“Just wait, Mosby. This thing,” he pointed between Y/N and Ted, “will end soon and then you will be begging to be my wingman.”

“So, what do you do for a living?” Robin tried to turn the conversation where it was before Barney interrupted them.

“I am a writer. I wrote the Noble Blood trilogy and am currently working on another fantasy book.”

“I love the Noble Blood series,” Marshall almost scream from the sudden excitement. “You are Y/N Y/L/N. Holy crap, I can’t believe you were able to get her, Ted. Finally, someone normal.”

“I’m glad you like the books,” she smiled at him.

“I love them,” Marshall continued. “They are written for both boy and girls. What inspired you to write something like that?”

“Star Wars,” she said simply.

“She loves Star Wars?”

“She loves Star Wars,” said Ted.

“She loves Star Wars!” Barney exclaimed. “You just went from a 7 to solid 11.”

“Thanks?” Y/N was a bit offended and confused.

Robin joined the conversation. “Hey, I work for Channel 12 and I would like to make an interview with you.”

“You work for the news channel? That is so cool. I would love to. We should arrange something,” Y/N happily accepted. “One question, though: Is Sandy Rivers still there and being such a pig?”

Robin nodded, immediately annoyed by that man. “Sandy Rivers is a pig, but he is not working with me.”

“S-so, you’ve seen my show: Come on, Get up New York!?”

“Surprisingly yes. When I had to leave for Europe to promote the book, I would watch it while packing or getting ready for the flight.”

“My girlfriend is just awesome,” said Ted triumphantly and he quickly kissed her cheek.

“Alright, next round is on me. I am so happy to meet you. Really,” she gave them an honest smile and went to the bar.  

[there-must-be-a-lock]

wings & the way down - part 4

Spencer Reid x Derek Morgan

Word Count: ~1870 this chapter

Warnings: None? 

A/N: A wild subplot appears! Gang’s mostly here, so we get to the fun stuff soon. Nobody’s reading this on tumblr, really, but I still feel the need to apologize for the delay! 

Catch up here. 

Monday, January 6 - Derek

As far as first days go, it could be a lot worse. It’s still fucking exhausting. 

They send the class president to meet him in the office, in the morning — blonde-haired and blue-eyed, straight out of a Colgate ad as she shakes his hand and introduces herself as “Jennifer, but my friends call me JJ.” 

Derek doesn’t fully trust girls like that, the ones who are so traditionally pretty they think they don’t have to be nice, but she’s cool enough as she shows him to his first class and gives him a brief tour, pointing out where he’ll want to go for his next class. He’s already feeling a little lost. 

People keep looking at him, and he wonders what they’re seeing. 

JJ seems to know everybody; she greets almost everyone by name as they walk, introducing Derek in passing. Most of the kids smile right back. It makes Derek reconsider his initial assessment of her; mean girls don’t usually get that sort of genuine warmth aimed in their direction. 

She invites him to eat lunch with her and her friends, but he has a meeting with Principal Strauss during lunch to talk about the student handbook, how he’s adjusting, and all the other fun shit. 

“No worries, standing invitation,” JJ tells him. 

“Tomorrow, then. It’s a date,” he replies, flashing his most charming grin. 

She smiles at that — not the flirtatious expression Derek expected, more like she’s laughing at a private joke — before waving and heading off to her own class.

The history teacher, Ms. Lewis, asks him to stand and introduce himself to the class, and to “Tell us something about yourself,” which… yeah, he saw that one coming, and he practiced it in front of the mirror last night. 

“Derek Morgan.” Not-too-bright smile; just casual enough to be cool, not cocky. “I just moved from Chicago. Psyched about the Vegas weather, not so much about the pizza.” 

He has to do the same thing at the start of every class. He’s going to be repeating it in his sleep, at this rate, and the more he says it, the more disingenuous it feels, trying to boil his identity down to one neat sentence. 

The English teacher, Blake, also asks him to say his favorite book, and Derek hesitates slightly. His instinct is to lie, say something cool and not quite as nerdy, but he catches himself and tells the truth instead. Nobody seems to care except the girl sitting next to him — dark hair, darker eyeliner — who raises a skeptical brow, like she doesn’t believe it. 

At the end of class, though, Blake pairs him with Eyeliner Girl for a project, and she gives him a begrudging smile before introducing herself: “Emily. Glad I’m not the new kid any more.” 

She scrawls her name and number on a piece of paper and slaps it down on the desk in front of him, saying something about meeting up later in the week, as she starts to pack up her stuff. Derek notices an enamel pin of a pansexual pride flag on her bag — between a Joy Division patch and a pin that says “Death Before Decaf” — but before he can figure out whether he wants to comment on that, she’s on her way out the door. 

Most of the day is just a blur of new faces and names and trying to remember where the fuck he’s going. Strauss is brusque but sharp. The place is huge, but there seem to be a lot of girls eager to show him around. People have been friendly enough; the whispers he hears are curious, instead of vicious. 

Derek feels a little bit like he’s got a spotlight on him every time he walks through the halls. At least here it’s a spotlight and not a bullseye. 

He wasn’t nervous for any of his classes, or anything, but he’s definitely nervous before practice. He’s not sure whether Coach Rossi told the team anything about why he ended up transferring mid-year. 

He’s braced for some hostility when he introduces himself to the team captain. “Hey, man, I know this has got to be weird, but—”

“Hey, apparently you can help us win some games,” the guy says, with a disarming smile. “Foyet. Glad to have you.” Derek breathes a little easier as they shake hands. 

Coach Rossi, meanwhile, isn’t like any high school coach Derek’s ever met. They’re usually big and loud and kinda aggro, but Rossi’s quieter, deadpan, well-dressed. He’s got this unimpressed expression, like he has seen some shit in his day and is not going to be bothered by any amount of macho teenage posturing. 

It feels good to be back on the court. The team’s not stellar, but fuck, it’s better than what he left behind, any day of the week. Derek’s in his element, here, and after a day of uncertainty, it’s nice to know he can still do this. By the end of practice, he seems to have won over most of the guys who seemed a little frosty at first, and that’s really fucking nice too. 

He hangs back for a minute to talk to Rossi, afterward, to thank him and just touch base. Then there’s talk of uniforms and making sure he has a locker, before the next practice, and by the time he gets showered, the rest of the team is gone.

He doesn’t mind walking back to the main building on his own. It feels like he’s been smiling and shaking hands and working so damn hard to make a decent first impression that he hasn’t been able to properly breathe all day. 

The school is mostly deserted, at this point — there are a few teachers still working at their desks, a couple students packing up. He gets a little bit turned around trying to find his locker again, wandering into an out-of-the-way section of classrooms near the auditorium before hitting a dead end. He retraces his steps and takes the right turn this time. 

Then he hears an argument around the corner, unmistakable in the relative quiet. He winces, wondering if he should announce his presence somehow, but it doesn’t sound like the kind of thing he wants to interrupt. 

“Look, I’m sorry,” a female voice is saying. “But every time I think about it… it’s terrifying. It’s easier for you, you’ve never—”

“You think this is easy?” another girl snarls. “Fuck that and fuck you. I told you, I’m not doing this. No fuckin’ way.” 

With that, heavy footsteps stomp away, echoing down the hall. 

Derek pauses for a moment, listening, but there’s no more sound; he waits a few seconds anyway before turning the corner, where one of the girls is still standing silently. 

When she whirls, startled by the sound of his footsteps, he realizes it’s JJ. 

It just takes her a blink to pull herself together at the sight of him; if he didn’t see the tears streaking down her cheeks, he’d almost believe it when she aims one of those Colgate-ad smiles in his direction. 

“You okay?” he asks hesitantly. JJ nods vigorously. 

“Totally! I think it’s allergies or something,” she insists. Right.  

“Think I’m a little turned around. How do I get out to the senior lot?” he asks her. 

“I’m heading that way, I’ll show you,” she says. As they start to walk, Derek can see her, out of the corner of his eye, wiping away tears discreetly. “How was your first day?” 

“Not bad, can’t complain,” he says, shrugging. “Pretty weird being the new kid, but… what are you gonna do, right?” 

JJ hesitates before saying, “Must be nice. Getting a fresh start, no expectations.” 

That’s not the usual line. Most people say it must be difficult, having to start over where nobody knows him; most people ask if he misses home, and they don’t consider what he’s trying to get away from. 

He doesn’t ask JJ what she wants to get away from — instead he says, “That’s what my momma keeps saying: I can be whoever I want to be.” 

“So who do you want to be, Derek Morgan?” 

“Just want to be myself,” he says, and she looks up at him with a small, sardonic smile. 

“You make it sound so easy,” she mutters. 

He laughs. “Yeah, fair enough.” 

This time, her smile seems more genuine. JJ points him in the right direction and then ducks into the women’s bathroom, with a wave and a reminder that she’ll see him for lunch. 

Derek heads toward the front door. He’s fishing around in his bag as he walks, looking for the keys to his uncle’s truck, when he walks right into somebody rushing out of the men’s bathroom. 

“Fuck, sorry, are you —” He stops dead, still with an arm out to help steady the other person, because the other person is Spencer. 

Spencer, who looks just as surprised as Derek feels. They lock eyes for a second, and Derek’s insides go on an entire fucking roller-coaster ride in one frozen moment. 

“I thought you were in college,” Derek blurts out, half-laughing, but Spencer doesn’t look even a little bit happy to see him. He’s gone pale. 

“What? No, still in fucking high school, last I checked.” His voice is bitter, and it cracks on the words. “I just take college classes sometimes.” 

“Oh.” 

“I thought you were visiting,” Spencer says, pushing his hair out of his face like he wants to be pulling it instead. 

“I am,” Derek says, stomach sinking when he realizes Spencer still isn’t smiling. “For another six months.”

Spencer’s mouth drops open, and Derek has a visceral flash of sensory memory: those pretty pink lips brushing his cheek. 

Spencer scowls. “So you’re — you go here. Fantastic.”  

Derek’s too tired to pretend the venom in Spencer’s tone doesn’t hurt. 

He snaps, “Did I do something wrong here, or did you just wake up on the bitchy side of the bed?” 

Maybe not his most mature reaction, but. It’s been a long fucking day.  

Spencer digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, for a second, and Derek can see the tension in his fingers. Then he exhales and it’s like all that twitchy furious energy drains out of him at once. He just looks exhausted. 

His voice is low and croaky as he says, “I liked that you didn’t see me the same way as everybody else does.” 

“So, what, you think that’s gonna change just cause we go to the same school now? What kinda asshole do you think I am?” 

“The kind who wears a varsity jacket,” Spencer mumbles. His eyes are huge and hurt and soft, and Derek recoils slightly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Spencer shakes his head. “Never mind. Just — trust me, okay? You’re better off pretending you don’t know me.” 

“I want to know you, though,” Derek says quietly. 

Spencer’s phone is vibrating. He looks down at it and then gives Derek one more sad little half-smile as he starts to walk away. 

“If you still feel that way by the end of the week, give me a call,” he says over his shoulder, already pushing the front door open. “But you won’t.” Before Derek can respond, he’s flipping the phone open and saying, “Hey, Mom. I’m on my way.” 

When Derek collects himself and follows him out, Spencer’s already gone. 

.

.

.

[stormkrigeren]

Whumptober Day 1!

Link to the Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34210837/chapters/85120435

Title: Bound - Lois

Prompt: No. 1 ‘All Trussed Up And Still Nowhere To Go’ - “You have to let go”, barbed wire, bound

Word Count: 2475

Lois preferred rope over handcuffs, and duct tape over rope. Duct tape was best because it was surprisingly easy to break, but she was rarely lucky enough to be tied up with it. Lois could tell that today wasn’t her lucky day the moment the goon wrapped a length of plastic boating rope around her wrists and yanked it tight.

She loved her job. The title of ‘investigative reporter’ practically gave her a free pass to be as nosy as she liked (and Lois was admittedly quite nosy) while also revealing the truth on a variety of issues, affairs, and dealings. No one would blink twice if she walked into a warzone or gang territory or some crooked mogul’s office with a pen handy and far too many questions in her head, and no one was surprised when her life was threatened only for her to diffuse the situation a few minutes later. That was just how Lois worked, and she loved it.

The one and only issue with her job was the fact that if her life wasn’t being threatened, her freedom probably was. Sometimes it would just be a threat to get her so discredited that no one would ever publish her works again, removing her freedom of speech, but Lois was good at her job and no one ever found anything to discredit her on. So more often than not whatever fraudulent idiot she had revealed that day would instead tie her up and leave her in a warehouse somewhere until either the police or her boss showed up with a ransom because investigative reporters, especially ones named Lois Lane, were surprisingly valuable (the highest number she’d ever heard was close to a million, which of course didn’t pan out, but it was interesting to think about).

Today had started out pretty normally - Lois had woken up, gotten ready for the day, and taken the subway to work like she usually did. Upon arriving at the Daily Planet’s Head Offices in the Upper East Side of the city, she had clocked in and gotten to her desk with the intention of kicking off the work day with a little bit of research and note-taking in preparation for her interview with some S.T.A.R Labs higher-ups that afternoon. The company had received a contract from the Department of Defense to investigate and research the Kryptonian scout ship that had crashed in downtown Metropolis and was now in government custody. Any Kryptonian 'artifacts’ found in or around the ship were catalogued by S.T.A.R Labs before being transferred to various labs and other research companies around the nation for studying, the biggest transfers usually being made to the S.T.A.R facilities in Central City and Metropolis, and third-party contractors such as Kord Industries, LexCorp, and WayneTech. The distribution of findings for individual research was all well and good, but a whistleblower had recently come to Lois with some disturbing finds: some of the artifacts, especially alien weapons, were disappearing from large shipments without a trace.

When the time of the interview drew near, Lois checked in with Perry before catching a taxi to the S.T.A.R Labs headquarters downtown. Her appointment was with a few scientists from the company’s board of directors that worked with the Kryptonian scout ship the most, and luckily for them, all three of them had enough tact to not back out of the meeting when they realized that the reporter the Daily Planet had sent over was in fact a lady on the high road to a Pulitzer Prize. A board room was procured for their usage, and Lois, being well-familiar with the drill, started her recording app, pulled out her notes, and started doing what comprised the bulk of her job as an investigative journalist: asking questions.

How was work on the Kryptonian scout ship progressing? Had any significant discoveries or breakthroughs been made so far? What sort of artifacts were they dealing with, and how did they decide which ones to distribute for outside research? Were the scout ship’s contents primarily weapons, or other items? What was the company’s response to rumors about misplaced shipments?

The scientists happily answered her questions, occasionally going off on a tangent about some discovery or the supposed usage of some unknown object but otherwise provided Lois with some pretty good fuel for her next article up until she came to the final question. All three of the researchers shifted uncomfortably in their seats and exchanged the briefest of nervous glances before Dr. Rhems, the head consultant for their Kryptonian armaments division, launched into a spiel about how their cataloguing system was infallible and they had not seen any evidence that items were missing, the rumors had to be false or else they would have known. To solidify his claim, he even offered to show her their records and prove that whatever data people were basing their opinions off of had to be wrong. Lois immediately took him up on the offer.

Taking his fellow scientists’ leave, Dr. Rhems led her through the building before finally stopping outside a door that supposedly led to where the Labs kept their records pertaining to the Kryptonian artifact research program.

“You have to understand, Miss Lane, that S.T.A.R Labs is not the only facility performing research on Kryptonian weaponry,” he explained as he fished a key card out of his pocket, nearly dropped it, and finally managed to tap it against the scanner beside the door, “It’s quite possible that one of the other contractors involved in the program may simply not be cataloguing their artifacts correctly-”

“They are,” Lois snapped back as she followed him through the doorway, “The issue is within your own company. The records available to the public show that half of the missing items disappear while still in your system. I know this seems a little far-fetched, Dr. Rhems, but it's looking like there are some shady dealings going on within your facility to steal Kryptonian weapons, and possibly other items, without your knowledge.”

“That’s impossible! This is one of the most secure facilities in the state, and every one of our employees has undergone rigorous background examinations. Surely this must be some sort of journalistic ploy to discredit S.T.A.R Labs, Miss Lane-”

“With all due respect, Dr. Rhems, please stop trying to dissuade me before I’ve seen your evidence against the so-called ‘rumors’. I’ll make my decision on what to tell the public once you can prove to me that the accusations aren’t true.”

Dr. Rhems paused at that, stopped in front of a laboratory workstation and glanced quickly between Lois and the racks of Kryptonian armaments on the far side of the room - apparently this lab was where they were stored for cataloging and documentation.

“Well,” the doctor said finally, “if you’re so sure you cannot be persuaded...”

The scientist tapped a button on the workstation’s keyboard and Lois distinctly heard the door behind her lock shut with a hydraulic hiss and low shunking sound. Before she even had time to turn around, Dr. Rhems was pulling what looked too much like a genuine Kryptonian sidearm for comfort out of his labcoat and levelling it at her head. There was no doubt in her mind that it was real, and Lois should know - she had used one.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Miss Lane,” Dr. Rhems confessed, “But I am going to have to ask you to comply while Caleb ties you up - don’t want you getting away before we’ve come to an agreement, you see.”

At his behest, mostly because she was unable to do otherwise with a Kryptonian sidearm pointed at her, Lois took a seat in the chair the scientist pointed to and waited in silence to see what he would do next. Dr. Rhems typed another command into the workstation console and the door unlocked to slide open just enough for a nervous-looking intern to slip inside before the door locked shut again. The young man had apparently been given orders to follow them and wait outside the lab until his boss let him in, and after a brief, curious glance in the reporter’s direction, he immediately got to the task assigned by fetching a length of plastic rope - the kind typically used for camping due to its lightweight nature - from a desk drawer and using it to tie Lois’ hands behind her back. Under Dr. Rhems supervision, he tied the knots as tight as he could before proceeding to tie her ankles to the chair legs, and though Lois hated to admit it, she was thoroughly stuck where she was.

“You can’t keep me here for long,” Lois reminded Dr. Rhems, holding back a wince when the uncomfortable cordage bit into her ankles and resisting the urge to give Caleb a solid kick to the nose went he bent down to adjust the rope, “My editor will wonder where I am if I don’t check in soon, not to mention the fact that I’m legally under the protection of both the US government and the Kryptonian remnant. I just have to scream ‘Superman’ and someone will be here within ten seconds.”

If she stated that last sentence a little louder than necessary, Dr. Rhems didn’t notice and simply cocked the blaster (improperly, Lois noted) as Caleb finished tying her up, “You won’t scream. You wouldn’t dare.”

“Maybe I will,” Lois answered, resisting the urge to smirk. Dr. Rhems apparently had enough confidence to do so himself, and shook his head self-assuredly.

“As you said earlier, Miss Lane, you should wait to hear my side of the story before forming an opinion,” he stated calmly, “Let’s start with a simple fact: alien artifacts created in and designed to be used in an environment different from Earth are a little difficult, and expensive, to maintain. Sure, the technology works here, but until we can fully understand it, we have to ensure that it does not deteriorate or lose function when not used properly. I would read you a few excerpts from my paper on the apparent bio-technological advancements in Kryptonian technology that make their mechanism borderline-organic, so simultaneously holding some level of innate intelligence or purpose but also being susceptible to deterioration if not maintained, but we don’t have time for that now.

“Without going into too much detail, S.T.A.R Labs is not getting the funding it needs from the Department of Defense. No significant advances or research is able to be done without money, Miss Lane, and we don’t have a lot of it,” Dr. Rhems continued, “The solution? Getting rid of artifacts we do not have the facilities to maintain while also making a little bit of cash - in short we’ve been selling Kryptonian technology to foreign buyers.”

“You mean stealing and profiting off of property of the US government, not to mention that the UN is currently trying to rule both artifacts and the scout ship itself as property of the Kryptonian remnant,” Lois corrected him. Damn, she was pretty sure she was losing feeling in her hands considering how tightly the intern had bound her, but if she could just slip one hand out of the rope…

“Everyone knows the UN won’t succeed in the ruling - that technology is far too valuable to belong to a couple of do-gooder extraterrestrials,” Dr. Rhems answered, “And before you ask what I’m going to do with you or why I’ve decided to tell you all this, the answers are simple: I’m going to ransom you and get a bit of extra ‘funding’ out of it, and once your ransom has been paid and you are released, you are going to write me an article about the corruption going on in our own Department of Defense that has led to the gross underfunding of essential research facilities such as S.T.A.R Labs.”

“And just who do you think is going to pay my ransom?” Lois asked. Her plan was to keep him talking, keep his focus off her and the fact that after rubbing the skin raw and nearly spraining her wrist, she had just about managed to get her right hand out of Caleb’s tightly-but-poorly-tied attempt at binding her up. Poor kid - he hadn’t done too bad of a job considering that typing would be a pain-in-the-ass tomorrow, but it wasn’t enough to keep Lois off her game. Dr. Rhems was still going off about who he was going to call for the money for her release when she got both hands free, and right on time the thick laboratory door crumpled beneath a hand strong enough to bend steel as Superman himself stepped into the room. Lois wasted no time when the two S.T.A.R Lab scientists were distracted by his arrival, and she lunged at Dr. Rhems to knock the blaster out of his distracted grip, cock it for firing (properly, she noted), and point it at the bastard’s head.

“Well, Dr. Rhems,” she couldn’t help but announce with a smirk, “It looks like I was right about those missing shipments.”

V*V*V*V*V*V*V

It was Perry who picked her up from the S.T.A.R Labs facility after Lois was done giving her account to the police - part of her wished it had been Superman who flew her back to the Daily Planet offices, but he was still busy talking with an officer about the two scientists who had been holding Miss Lane hostage - and after a short drive back to the familiar newspaper building, it was Clark who first noticed the blisters covering her wrists and insisted on getting the first aid kit to treat them. Still, Lois ended up looking after the injuries herself, mostly because Clark, despite his kindness, strength, and adorable handsomeness, was a bit on the squeamish side and still had work to do. It wasn’t the worst she had ever dealt with - her wrists only required some antibacterial cream and bandages, whereas her left ankle had nearly been sprained when she lunged at Dr. Rhems with her feet still tied to the chair and required a bit more care in the form of an ice pack. Despite her injuries, Lois was having a pretty damn fine day - her typing skills weren’t as affected as she had imagined, her phone had still been recording throughout the whole hostage situation, and she had enough evidence pieced together to make the leading story of the evening edition. A sprained ankle and wrists that were raw as fuck after trying to wriggle her way out of plastic boating rope of all things were a small price to pay for the front page.

[sepublic]

Cat Headcanons!

           You know what? Let’s talk about Cat from The Owl House! And we know her name is Cat with a C, because Dana mentioned her specifically being named after Cat Harman Mitchell…

           I like to think that her name is short for Catrina, because that completes an amusing name-theming for Boscha and the rest of her gang; Boscha, Skara, Amelia, Catrina! Amongst Boscha’s group, it’s not just Cat’s nickname that makes her stand out, however…

           In conjunction with my headcanons for Amelia, I like to think of Cat as the most recent addition to the friend group! And as we see with her Grom photos, she might not be the most confident person… It’s an obvious choice because of her glasses, but I low-key headcanon her as a bit of a nerd and a geek. She definitely does well in class… Obviously ascertaining this detail from her glasses is a bit stereotypical, but I don’t really have much else to work with here!

           Despite her ‘nerdiness’, Cat proved to be like Amity; Both smart AND an athlete! After Amity left the team, Skara had to fill in a vacancy left with Boscha’s ascension as team captain… Shortly afterwards, Boscha encountered Cat! Cat proved to be better at Grudgby than Skara and definitely had more of a heart for it, so she took Skara’s position- Skara was happy with being reserve player, as she was never as into it as Amelia or the others, so everybody won!

           Cat was invited into the friend group precisely for her skill in Grudgby, and also because Boscha DOES legitimately enjoy her alongside Skara and Amelia… But Boscha isn’t exactly open with her feelings, so sometimes this can be difficult for Cat to realize, and others assume she’s just being kept around as a Grudgby asset! But make no joke, Boscha does value her as a friend… She just also places a lot of emphasis on Cat’s skill at Grudgby as well. Skara and Amelia are a lot more open and reassuring towards Cat about her place in the friend group, however.

           Cat’s definitely much more of the shy and awkward type compared to the others, and as a result she was a bit in disbelief and suspicion when Boscha invited her in. Oftentimes, Boscha and the others feel the need to uplift Cat, praise her, and reassure her that she’s one of them; That when you’re hanging out with US, you’re one of the cool kids! Don’t let any other kids tell you otherwise, or pretend they’re better than you! You’ve EARNED your popularity Cat, go out and enjoy it! But even so, Cat’s not one to exactly throw her weight around… She doesn’t participate much in Boscha’s bullying and may have even been a victim of past incidents (definitely not from Boscha herself though), but a part of her is afraid of being kicked out. Cat, for good reason, knows how intense Boscha can be… And given her own self-doubts and how recent she is to the friend group, she low-key worries that she’s considered expendable?

           At the very least, she sympathized most with Willow during the bullying, and mostly only participated because she didn’t want to defy Boscha and ‘threaten team unity’ during Grudgby season. Cat definitely was over-thinking how she sat separate from the others during History class that one time, but Skara promises her it means nothing!

           …Of course, while Skara CAN be rather sweet with Cat. As we see during Grom, she was also a bit pushy and aggressive when it came to having her photos with her boyfriend, if only because Grom is such a big deal and the two were high on the adrenaline of cheering Luz and Amity during the battle! Cat was a bit nervous about asking the spiked-fruit-looking kid (who I’ll call Shigechi for now), because Shigechi was also seen as a bit of a ‘loser’… But the other girls didn’t have anything to say, and Boscha trusted Cat’s judgment because she was a friend! Needless to say, Cat and Shigechi were VERY shy and awkward when they danced together, those lovable doofuses, trying not to be TOO close, wanting to mind the other’s space and neither having the guts to make the first move… It was sweet and adorable stuff!

           Cat is also responsible for Skara and Bo’s friendship! The two know each other due to being in the Healing Track, and after the failed Moonlight Conjuring at Blight Manor, there was some interest in Luz and her friends; Specifically the third one, because the girls at least knew about Willow! It was through Bo that Cat learned of Gus’ name, and Bo’s membership in the Human Appreciation Society. Cat wasn’t too intrigued, but she at least brought it up to the others, and she eventually introduced an intrigued Skara to Bo… And the rest is history!

           As a side-note, Cat also tries to help the other girls with homework, if only because she’s seen as academically smarter and possibly feels obligated to; Again, she’s not the most self-assured and is worrying about ‘fulling’ her role in the group, and justifying it. It’s kind of difficult, especially since all of her friends are in different tracks, so the most Cat can help on is classes that apply across all tracks. Cat is also wondering if she’ll intend to pursue a career as a Grudgby athlete after she graduates… Boscha acts like it’s a given because she low-key DOES trust Cat, or at least take her for granted… but Cat is wondering if her talents and passions lie elsewhere.

           She wasn’t there for Eda’s petrification, but Cat WAS surprised to hear that Skara, Amelia, Bo, and Shigechi were! With a couple of other students, as well as Principal Bump, the Bard Professor, and another teacher being pro-rebellion, Cat is definitely considering her stance on Emperor Belos, if she wasn’t before-hand! Especially after seeing Amelia and Shigechi, who had been excited to visit Belos’ castle, change their opinions on him… Of course, Cat is a bit of a nervous wreck, so she’s going to wait around to see how the general opinion goes before outright committing to anything.

[sunlitcigars]

Soft!Dallas Headcanons

(Is this a little ooc? Yes. Am I also a slut for Soft!Dallas? 110% also yes.)

(Not my GIF)

Tags: @lastluvbug @disasterinadress97​

General:

 Dallas would never admit it but he has separation anxiety 

It's always why he stays at Bucks because he knows he's not alone and also why he's always at the Curtis'

He's also got PTSD from New York

Certain gunshots trigger memories in him

We all know the boy is touch starved let's be honest

He's subtle about it though like him always swinging his arm around Johnny and/or touching shoulders with Ponyboy or anyone of the gang

He loves the feeling of someone running their fingers through his hair

He really enjoys cuddles

Doesn't really matter what kind they are he just wants someone to hold him and make him feel okay

Always has his shirt tucked in as a habit because back in New York a lot of people would touch up on him 

 When he's nervous or on the verge of a breakdown he either starts bouncing his legs non-stop or starts scratching at his arms 

Will also play with his ring if he has it on

When he's stressed out and doesn't want to bother the gang or anybody else he'll usually go to the lot and watch the clouds go by if it's nice whether 

But when it rains he'll usually be up in his room at Buck's and watch from his window as it passes by (same goes when it's snowing)

He may like rain but he's scared of thunderstorms

Whenever he hears thunder he either puts his knees to his chest and bury his head in his legs or cover his ears or both

When that happens at the Curtis' one of the guys rub his back and pull him close to them until it's over 

 One of the things he's also afraid of is the dark since his whole life has been consumed by it

If the power goes out when he's alone he grabs a pillow and imagines one of the gang or someone so it doesn't seem like he's alone 

If the power goes out when he's at the Curtis' he'll grab someone's arm or hide his face in their shoulders

Can make bombass cupcakes and cookies but no one has ever tried them except for Tim

He actually really likes jazz because it reminds him of a simpler time in his life

Dallas doesn't really like big parties because the amount of loud shouting reminds him of back in New York when either the police would shoot at random gang members or something else

HE'S EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE AND WE ALL KNOW IT 

Dallas was close to Mrs. Curtis because she was the only women in his life that represented a motherly figure to him 

But when he heard the news about the crash he locked himself up in his room silently crying and never left the room the gang or anyone for that matter saw him for at least two weeks

(The only time anyone saw him in between those two weeks was at Mr. and Mrs. Curtis' fun

NSFW:

He's the type to talk big but is actually really shy in bed

Some people thinks he's the bratty sub type but really he gets flustered so easily

He's packing a 5 ½ to 6 Inches let's be honest here

He's not good with words in bed so if he wants something he'll stutter it out or whisper/mutter it under his breath

He feels so vulnerable laid out naked for the person on the bed 

He wants to feel he's validated enough to know that he's loved by the person 

He won't say it to anyone but he loves the feeling of being filled with cum 

His nipples are sensitive as fuck

Like if someone only played with them he'd orgasm in less then four minutes

D A D D Y  K I N K

H U M I L I A T I O N  K I N K

O R G A S M  C O N T R O L

He's actually really vocal during sex but would muffle his sounds with a pillow or cover his mouth with his hand or bite down on his lips

He whimpers

A lot

If he's feeling special then he'll put on a little show whether that's him strip teasing or touching himself for someone

If he's having a one night stand he prefers to be on his stomach/or hand and knees but if he's in a relationship then he prefers to be on his back so he can look at them and feel comfortable and safe

Hickeys are a huge fuck yes because they remind him who he belongs to and shows people not to try and hook up with him

Another one night stand vs. An actual relationship is that he usually has a cigarette after having sex but if he's in a relationship then he doesn't need one since he already feels content

Aftercare is a huge part for him 

He loves getting pampered and cared for because it's the only time he feels like he doesn't have to act so tough and can relax and let his walls down

FYI he's capable of doing grabby hands just so y'all know

In A Relationship:

He's with the person 24/7

Will low key freak out if he doesn't know where they are and where they went

He's afraid of them finding someone better than him because he feels like he's not good enough for the other person 

Is a little possessive overprotective of the person

If he gets sent to jail he'll give the person his necklace until he's out

He'll also grab something from the person so it doesn't feel like he's completely alone in there

He won't show it but when him and the person are talking through the glass his eyes are filled with loneliness and desperation 

Once he's out he's not leaving their side

Will beat the shit out of anyone who talks shit about his person in a god damn heart beat

He used to be in an abusive relationship so he doesn't let down his walls all the way

If he did something wrong he's always expecting for the worse but then he has to remind himself that they aren't his ex

If him and the person are arguing and they lift up their arm to make a gesture or whatever he will flinch away from them

If they try and leave the bed he'll cling to them like his life depended on it

E X T R A clingy when drunk

He never said I love you so when he said it to the person for the first time he was a stuttering mess

DD/LB: (If you don't like this please don't bitch about it or just simply skip this part)

His headspace is between 4 to 5 years old

Loves when his caregivers call him pet names

Baby boy and prince are his favorite

Likes to color because it keeps his anxiety at a neutral level

Slurs some of his words

Has a fluffy stuffed elephant named Lilac

Finds comfort in his caregivers voice

Clingy

If he wants to be picked up he'll make grabby hands

If he's tired then he'll crawl into his caregivers lap and nuzzle his face into their neck

When he's feeling on the verge of little space in public he'll unnoticeably hold the person's arm 

One of his favorite Disney movie is 101 Dalmatians

Loves to cuddle up in warm blankets

He has a habit of grinding his teeth so his pacifiers help him a lot 

It also helps him whenever he needs a smoke

Or when he needs to bite his lips

Likes bubble baths

His favorite scent to use is lavender :)

Unlike when he's in big headspace he doesn't try and break the rules because when he used to his past caregiver gave him harsh punishments

The first person from the gang he came out to was Ponyboy

One day Ponyboy had to go to Buck's place and while he was in Dallas' room saw Lilac

When he asked him about it Dallas was going to make an excuse but just decided to tell Ponyboy about it

Ponyboy told him he wasn't gonna tell anyone and he kept his word

He kept telling Dallas to tell the gang for a week

It took him a lot to tell the gang he was a little

They all had mixed reactions

All of them were very confused until he explained what it is

(Except for Ponyboy of course)

Darry started to feel more protective over him 

Johnny was surprised because he didn't think of all people Dallas would ever be a little but he was cool with it as long as it helps him

Sodapop is actually really happy about it and he wouldn't mind playing with him when he's in little space

Steve was a little uncomfortable knowing that the reckless hood was a little but he came to accept it

Everyone was waiting for Two-Bit to respond but all of a sudden he just walked out the door without saying anything

Dallas was on the verge of a panic attack and it took awhile for the gang to calm him down

It wasn't until later when Two-Bit came back but this time with a bunch of stuff

He'd gotten Dallas a stuffed animal, bottles, and even a fluffy blanket

Dallas almost started crying ngl

At the end of the day he was just happy his only family accepted him (#supportivegang2020)

When he's in little space the gang tries their best not to smoke or drink around him

On Sundays when they're all not busy they'll watch Disney movies together

One or two of the gang members is alway with him when they're out in public 

With The Gang:

Ponyboy:

Ponyboy reads to Dally whenever he sees him having a bad day or getting nervous 

Whenever Ponyboy reads to him Dallas either has his head in his lap while Ponyboy occasionally runs his hand through his hair or has his head on his shoulder 

On the occasion Dallas tags along with Ponyboy to the library and sometimes picks out a random book he finds interesting or Ponyboy would like and show it to him

Secretly he hopes that Ponyboy would read it out loud to him 

Darry and Soda won't allow him to go to Buck's but if Dallas calls and says he needs him he will not hesitate to go out the door to care for his boyfriend

 If Ponyboy has track Dallas waits for him until it's over

Going to the lot has become a weekly thing for them

When Dallas isn't looking Ponyboy would sneak in a paper that has a poem on it in either his jackets or his pants

Since Dallas never really went to school he has a hard time reading huge words or some so when he's reading over Ponyboy's shoulder he'll ask him

"What's that word?"

"This one?"

"Yeah."

"Absquatulate?"

"Oh." 

Ponyboy finds it fucking adorable

Sodapop:

Sodapop would take him to Dairy Queen and get sundaes and park somewhere with a nice view or park in the parking lot and watch the cars go by

Dallas often goes to the DX and wait until his shift is over 

Sometimes Sodapop will randomly put his hat on Dallas

Whenever girls try and flirt with Sodapop, Dallas either gives them a death state or tell them to fuck off and say he's taken

 When Dallas starts crying Soda will wipe away his tears with his thumbs and kiss his cheeks

Jokingly gave Dallas a promise ring he found somewhere not expecting him to actually wear it but was surprised when he saw it on Dallas' finger

If they're at a party sometimes Soda wanders off but once he sees how uncomfortable Dallas he is he's immediately back at his side

Ponyboy and Darry have walked in on them cuddling on the couch SO MANY TIMES

One time they walked in on them making out heavily Darry had to cover Ponyboy's eyes

Sodapop thinks Dallas looks H O T in his flannels

Darry:

Dallas would always steal borrow Darry's shirt because he feels comforted by it whenever Darry's at work

He absolutely loves it when Darry wraps his arms around him and would always snuggle closer to his chest

(If you really think I'm gonna let Patrick Swayze's singing voice go to waste you're very mistaken)

Whenever he's having a hard time sleeping Darry would usually sing to him until he falls back asleep

Or when Dallas is on edge Darry will hold him close to his chest and sing to him softly until he feels calm again 

Dallas loves Darry's morning voice because it's so low and low key a turn on

When they're out in public Darry would hook his finger around Dallas' belt loops on his jeans to keep him close to him

Some people don't fuck with Dallas as much because they know if they do they'll have to deal with Darry and no one wants to do that unless they have a death wish

If Dallas starts acting up in public all it takes is for Darry to whisper in his ear "behave" 

Darry once talked about the type of flowers his mom liked and kept in the house then a few days later when he got off work he saw the flowers he was talking about in a vase on the dining table with a paper attached saying "Don't ask where I got the flowers and vase"

He almost started crying right then and there

When Dallas is drunk he'll cling to either Darry's chest or back like a koala

One time one of the gang walked in on Darry cooking while Dallas just clung to his back but they didn't say anything in fear of waking up with their dick cut off

Johnny:

Surprisingly Johnny gets protective over 

He will now hesitate to throw down when someone starts talking crap about them

If they're out in public Johnny's always holding Dallas' hand 

Or if they're at the Curtis' Johnny would glance at Dallas every so often to see if he's okay

They both helped each other let their walls down 

When Johnny sees Dallas on edge or not at his best he nudges his head against his shoulder or on his face in hopes of cheering him up (it works more often than he thought it would but he ain't complaining)

 Johnny sometimes shows Dallas some of his favorite places around town

They've fallen asleep in the lot cuddled next to one another multiple times

Johnny tops Dallas sorry not sorry

Sharing cigarettes like kisses

Johnny mindlessly puts his arm in front of Dallas whenever someone's trying to pick a fight

Everytime Dallas talks bad about himself Johnny will be like not on my watch and will do everything and anything to make Dallas feel better

Dallas has a hard time sleeping at night knowing Johnny's with his parents

3AM conversations about the what ifs of life

Two-Bit:

Two-Bit will crack jokes to Dallas when they're alone together about how much of a softie he really is

But if anyone else made fun of Dally he'd beat the literal shit out of them

Also tells bad pick up lines to him even though they're already boyfriends

"Do you have a name? Or can I call you mine?"

Dallas would usually say something back but would low key be blushing

Always trying to make Dallas laugh because he loves it when he does

Would totally smack Dallas' ass in front of the gang

 Respects Dallas' boundaries when he's not feeling it

Ms. Mathews is actually really fond of Dallas 

His sister gave him the whole "hurt my brother and I'll hunt you down" talk

He didn't take it seriously but he keeps it in the back of his head

Dallas is the only one to see Two-Bit's hair without grease and he will play with his hair for hours on end

Two-Bit once fell asleep to Dallas playing with his hair and when he woke up he was still doing it

If they're watching Mickey Mouse Dallas is always on Two-Bit's lap

When he sees Dallas upset he'll do voice impressions of random people (Dallas finds it stupid but it always lightens his mood)

Steve:

Whenever Dallas' on the verge of having a breakdown Steve will drive Dallas around town to calm down

Soft music would be playing in the background while Steve either rubs Dallas' thighs or hold his hand

Dallas would run his finger around Steve's tattoo whenever they're cuddling

Dallas loves laying his head on Steve's chest because it's both soft and muscular 

When he does Steve softly plays with his hair

Whenever he leaves for work he wraps his shirt or jacket around him so Dallas could sleep better

Steve is really observant so whenever he sees something wrong with Dallas he always asks if he's okay

Will glare at anyone who's eyeing his Dallas

Never ever takes his anger out on Dallas

(God will have to fight him if he does)

Dates at the drive in movies and later eating at the diner

They'd always park where they won't get noticed so they can sneak in a few make out sessions here and there ;)

When they go to the diner Dallas kinda feels bad because Steve's always paying for their meals but he always reassures him it's okay

Him and Dallas constantly flirt when he visits the DX

Sodapop finds it amusing and annoying but as long as his best friend is happy he couldn't give a shit

~

Please reblog or comment!

 Let me know if you want to see more and if you'd like any to be turned into a short fic 

Also huge shout out to @lastluvbug​ for helping me come up with most of these ideas! (Thank you for saving my braincells)

[jemej3m]

a comprehensive set of rules (part 1)

light and breezy!! (this is not a b99 au)

this is...long.

plot?????? what?????????

*

January:

“So you’re telling me,” Aaron repeated. “You’re pretty sure this guy is into some organised crime shit?”

Andrew made a noise, rolling over on his bed to press the phone between his ear and the pillow. Usually their calls were short and succinct, as was tradition ever since they departed from college - Andrew heading to Baltimore for policing academy and Aaron to Chicago for med-school - with Aaron doing most of the talking and Andrew occasionally humming in response.

Tonight Andrew was riddled with questions. Usually his moral compass was simple and easy to adhere to, but this was - to put it mildly - fucked. He didn’t care about authority, or loyalty to his police oath, but he couldn’t just screw a guy whilst suspecting him of murder. Or whatever Neil had gotten himself into.

You can’t talk, his own brain reminded him, so kindly, so gently. He made a scathing noise and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“A woman tried to kill him and talked shit about his family. You should’ve seen how bone-white he went at his father’s mention.”

“So - you’re just going to excuse him? On the basis of what, an inclination to murder is genetic?”

Sometimes it was genetic. Andrew almost laughed. Aaron heard the irony in his own words, too and grumbled out a low ‘Shut up.’

“He said he couldn’t date a cop, anyway.” Not that Andrew was interested in dating.

It did appear as though he and Neil was very incompatible: Neil didn’t do sex and relationships, was criminally inclined and had yet to text him since their disaster of a second date.

Andrew was only emotionally ready enough for casual sex, one-night-stands and loveless hookups, and didn’t exactly know whether or not he could ignore Neil’s background, seeing as every day he went in to work and interrogated perps with gang tattoos and blood still drying on their hands.

And yet.

Andrew still wanted to see Neil. See he was alright. Talk to him. Spend time with him. Andrew still wanted to try and set something up, something that’d benefit both of them, maybe a way that Neil could escape from his current life, a way for Andrew to get invaluable knowledge.

Andrew still wanted to try and have something with Neil. Not romantic. Not a relationship, or sex, or even friendship.

Just - something.

“That’s that, then.” Aaron said, unhelpful. “Nicky was all screechy about it on the phone. Said that the guy was cute. I bet he has no clue.”

“No,” Andrew agreed, making a mental note to check out ‘Allison’ and ensure his cousin was safe. “No clue at all.” He sighed, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. “It doesn’t matter. I doubt we’ll ever see each other again.”

*

February:

“Shit,” Andrew muttered as coffee dribbled down his vest. The taser tucked into its pocket made an odd sound, as though it were drowning or something. He fished it out and sighed: Kevin, another fresh-faced detective who seemed to think he had the right to criticise Andrew’s every move, wouldn’t let this go. Andrew seemed to always be needing new equipment, so much so that Kevin had decided to photocopy the request forms and pin them snootily to Andrew’s desk.

Andrew hated Kevin. Renee had forced him to be civil, though, and he trusted his partner enough to listen to her advice.

“Didn’t see you there,” came a familiar voice. Andrew’s head snapped up: canvasing the truly miraculous sight that stood before him. “So sorry.”

Neil’d had his haircut since Andrew had last seen him, but he bore purple shadows under his eyes, his skin pale and sickly. A hood was drawn up, the sweater too large on Neil’s wiry frame. His jeans were loose too. He was far from the well-dressed bad idea Andrew had gone on two dates with, just over two months prior.

“Come into this cafe, officer,” Neil said, voice flat. “There’s a bathroom.”  With that, he spun on his heel and marched back into the coffee-shop that he had no doubt been waiting outside of for Andrew to pass by.

Andrew followed silently, ignoring the lukewarm coffee that was dripping down his chest. There was a tiny bathroom with two cubicles, of which Neil somehow had the key for. He spun around and leant against the door, eyes dark.

“Neil,” Andrew said. “What the fuck?”

“I can’t be seen with you, or talking to you,” he managed, voice slightly raw. “Things are - not great, right now. I’m sorry I vanished.”

“You have to give me context,” Andrew insisted, stepping closer. “What the hell is going on?”

Neil shut his eyes. “If I promise you that I’ll explain everything, afterwards, will you help me?”

“I take my promises seriously,” Andrew warned.

Neil nodded weakly, wringing his fingers. “I know.”

Andrew sighed, taking some paper towel from next to the sink and patting himself dry. “What’s happening?”

Neil swallowed. “My father’s going to court, based on charges of tax evasion and money laundering.”

Andrew gestured for him to continue.

Neil hung his head. “I’m going to usurp him, him and his closest allies. I need a cop I can filter information through to, so that they can be locked up permanently. All five of them.”

“Someone once told me that they’d never be safe unless the threat was dead,” Andrew said, voice low. “You can’t fool me into thinking you just want them in jail.”

Neil had the audacity to look surprised, like maybe he thought Andrew wouldn’t remember. He’d learn to assume Andrew knew everything soon enough. “He has enough enemies that it’ll be taken care of, for me. Honest enough for you, officer?”

Andrew straightened out. “And when he and his crooks are gone? What then?”

Neil’s smile was almost sad. "Then I will take his place.”

“You could dismantle it entirely,” Andrew argued. “You don’t have to follow his footsteps.”

Neil just shook his head. “There are higher powers at work, Andrew. It’s my legacy: I have no choice." He in a shuddering breath. “If I could abandon it all, I would. I don’t want this life. I don’t want his name, or his smile, or his bloodthirst. I don’t.”

“Neil,” Andrew warned.

The man squeezed his eyes shut. “You know I watched him kill my mom? She didn’t want this life either. He was going to kill me too. Maybe he should have.”

“Neil.”

Andrew had the man’s chin pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He opened his eyes.

“I’ll help you,” Andrew said, against better judgement. “Tell me your name and I’ll help you.”

Neil’s swallow was constricted, weighted. He took out a tiny slip of paper and tucked it into Andrew’s pocket. “I'm still Neil.” His inhale was desperate. “I am still Neil.”

Andrew nodded slightly, stepping back and watching as the man unlocked the door and slipped out.

Slowly - carefully - Andrew unfolded the little piece of paper.

It was a business card, the logo embossed into the paper.

Nathan Wesninski and Co. it read, accented with gold.

*

March:

“How the fuck...” Dan said, flicking through the file. She, Wymack and Renee all sat opposite Andrew, peering over his work with trepidation.

Under a strictly Need-To-Know policy, Kevin was excluded for his previous ties to Riko Moriyama, who was the son of a yakuza boss (though that was not widely known). Matt was excluded on the basis of too many mouths to control, though Dan would probably fill him in. Seth was excluded because he sucked and Andrew hated him. That left his partner, his captain and his sergeant, all of whom were mildly shocked that Andrew had picked up such a large and intricate case independently.

“How did you find all this?” Dan demanded, recoiling from the contents of his file. Beside the many photographs laid a dried chunk of flesh in a sealed bag, of which DNA tests would confirm to be Mary Wesninski’s, who vanished over 14 years ago.  Neil said he’d cut it from the branching aorta of his mother’s heart, of which his father kept in a small container, alongside her tongue and eyes, seeing as his father would miss a whole organ, but not a chunk of the underside. He didn’t get his name the Butcher for nothing.

“Unless we have a weapon, or something with prints that connects Wesninski to that-” Wymack pointed to the piece of Mary’s heart. “It’s still circumstantial without your CI coming forward as a witness.”

“They will die,” Andrew said calmly. “I’ll keep working for a connection, but nothing about my CI gets published. Nothing.”

“Okay,” Renee agreed, smiling warmly as she rounded the table. She waited for his nod to drop a hand on his shoulder, rubbing small circles of warmth. “We’ll figure something out, Andrew.”

“I can’t believe we have a chance against Wesninski,” Wymack muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Not yet, we don’t.” Dan reminded him.

Not yet, Andrew agreed.

*

April:

Neil walked a slow circle around Andrew’s apartment, eyeing the windows and doors, the fire escape, the kettle, probably even the fucking toilet paper. Andrew watched as he toed off his shoes, pulled his sweater sleeves over his hands and finally joined Andrew in the living room.

“Got bored of figuring out the best point of exit?”

Neil scowled, settling on the couch beside him. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, yours wasn’t exactly an option, was it?” 

Neil just drew his knees up to his chin, curling into a small ball on the couch. “The trial’s been set for late September.”

“I know,” Andrew agreed. 

“You haven’t brought any evidence to the prosecutor yet.”

“I haven’t.”

“Was what I gave not good enough?”

“No,” Andrew grimaced. “A chunk of Mary’s heart tells us she’s dead. Without prints, or a weapon, or DNA evidence surrounding her body, there’s no way to connect Nathan to her death.”

Neil winced, teeth biting into his lip. The minute rocking back and forth was beginning to get on Andrew’s nerves. “I can’t...I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Andrew insisted. “We solve crimes for a living. There’s always an answer.”

Neil scoffed, body still shaking. “You’re probably aware of 20% of what goes on in this city.”

“So tell me the other 80.”

Neil stared. 

Andrew gestured vaguely. “The different gangs, the territory lines, shoot outs and brandings and who’s having an affair with who. I don’t care. Just talk.”

“What good is gossip?” Neil wondered aloud. 

“You’d be surprised,” Andrew said lightly, like this wasn’t completely for Neil’s benefit. He needed to get Neil out of his head. It looked like the man hadn’t sleep in weeks, his nails bitten down to the quick and body stiff with bandages. The fact that Andrew couldn’t help him much more than this - at least not now - was putting him through the wringer.  

“Fine,” Andrew huffed when Neil wasn’t forthcoming, getting off the couch. From under the TV he grasped a random DVD and shoved it into the player that Nicky had bought for him a few years ago. 

“What’s this?” Neil blinked, owlishly. 

Andrew just dropped back down onto the couch. “Do you trust me?”

Neil looked at him, eyes narrowed. 

Andrew reached out to push the long fringe away from Neil’s eyes. “Neil, do you trust me?”

“I...” he looked down to his hands. They slowly curled into fists. “I want to.”

Andrew tilted his chin up with the tip of his finger. For a moment there was nothing else, just blue and gold and fate and future. “Then believe me when I say I will find a way.”

Slowly, Neil nodded. 

*

May: 

“Dimaccio, Plank, and the Romero siblings,” Andrew leant on the table with his fists, the fies splayed out around them. “We lock them up, one by one. Nathan loses his circle, loses his security. He’ll put out the wrong foot without anyone else to fall back on.”

“Who should we start with, then?” Wymack inquired, letting Andrew steer this investigation down to the very last report signature. 

Andrew arched an eyebrow, momentarily recalling the jagged scars on the inside of Neil’s elbows. 

“She’d wanted to cut my tendons, once,” he said, before yanking down the sleeves again. 

“Ladies first,” he told Wymack, picking up the photo of Lola Malcom and pinning it right into the centre of their case-board.

*

June: 

Dimaccio snarled as he was lead away in shackles, hair shaved close to his skull. He was probably double Andrew’s height and width and had three police escorts shoving him into the back of a wagon. Across the back of his hand had been the characteristic X, the one Neil bore, the one Lola had worn too. 

Two down, three to go, Andrew thought, something like pride grinning wolfishly within his chest. These were only the bail hearings: proper convictions wouldn’t be till the new year. It didn’t matter: so long as they were locked up, Andrew could move forward. Wymack stood beside him, thumbs hooked into his belt loops. 

“Nice work, kiddo,” the chief acknowledged, shaking out a cigarette and gesturing to the exit. Andrew followed. 

Leaning against the courthouse’s sandstone exterior, Andrew stared up into the cloudless sky with an accusatory squint, till Wymack nudged him.

“Your phone’s ringing,” he muttered, cigarette drooping with ever syllable. 

Andrew fished out the burner that he always kept tucked into his back pocket. He flicked it open immediately: there was only one person who had this number. 

“Andrew,” Neil panted. “Thank god. Okay. Hi.”

“N -” Andrew glanced at Wymack before turning away. “What’s going on?”

“The chances of me being able to contact you from now on will be slim to none: with two of them gone, I have to step in.”

“Christ,” Andrew muttered, stubbing out his cigarette. “Where are you now?”

“Bathroom,” Neil muttered. “Some stupid event thing for his business front. I’m not who matters right now. Do you have family that’s traceable to you? A next of kin?”

“You’ve met Nicky and Erik,” Andrew said, suddenly cold all over. “My twin and his wife live in Chicago.”

“They should be alright,” Neil murmured. “But Nicky and Erik have to go. Can they win a flight overseas? I’ll wire you through money if you need it -” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll sort it out.”

“You need to be careful,” Neil insisted. “He’s going to come after you. That’s twice your name’s been on the front of the arrest records. I’ve sorted something out, okay?”

“Forgive me if that sounds less that appealing.”

Neil laughed weakly. “It’s not a pretty solution, but it’ll work. You have to keep working, and if I can’t keep interacting with you without blowing this whole thing over, then our only choice is...” 

“Allison,” Andrew muttered. “Jesus Christ.”

Neil hummed in agreement. “She’ll pick you up from yours in an hour. Be ready.”

“How does she know where I live?”

“Like she doesn’t track my every move, Minyard. She’s my accomplice. Gotta go, now. He’ll get suspicious.” 

Something twisted in Andrew’s throat. “Stay safe.”

Neil paused, then mumbled “You too,” and disconnected the call. 

Wymack was watching him with an arched brow. 

Andrew shrugged. “My CI’s quick.”

“Unpredictable asshole,” his boss muttered, shooing him off with a derisive flick of his fingers. Andrew saluted him as he departed, before twisting on his heel and jogging back to his car. 

*

“Guest room, guest bathroom, living room, kitchen, blah, blah.” Allison waved her hand around emphatically, her manicured nails glittering with rhinestones and pearls. They were probably real, if her apartment was anything to go by. 

Everything was white, grey or pink, aside from the dark-oak parquetry on her floors. The marble countertops were polished to sparkle, every device in her kitchen practically unused. It was Nicky’s dream penthouse. 

“It pays to murder, doesn’t it?” Andrew wondered when he’d inherited Neil’s loose tongue. 

The look Allison gave him was withering. “I don’t murder. I clean up.”

“Because complacency is so much better than participation.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe Nicky didn’t tell me you were a fucking cop. Would’ve never set you up on a date if I knew.”

“I’m going to have his father in max security by the end of the year,” Andrew reminded her. “Don’t make me abandon the case.”

She grinned. “You wouldn’t. He’s got you wrapped around his finger.” At Andrew’s glare, she waved him off. “Don’t worry: he’s just like that. I never said that I ain’t wrapped around his finger too. It’s impossible to not want to shield him away, wrap him in copious amounts of blankets, kiss his forehead and tell him it’ll be okay. I tried it once,” she grimaced. “It didn’t work.”

Andrew didn’t picture Neil, a mobster’s son, wrapped in blankets on Andrew’s couch, smiling (genuinely) as Andrew pressed a kiss to the corner of his eye. He did not picture that. He did not. 

“For what it’s worth,” Allison said, in a voice softer than Andrew thought she was capable of as she looked out the enormous windows that overlooked Baltimore’s busiest district. “I’m glad he trusts you. And I’m glad you’re helping us.”

“Don’t get sappy on me, Reynolds,” he pointed at her in warning. “I’ll lock you up too, if you give me a reason to.”

Her laugh was pearlescent, her grin cat-like. “Neil would scalp you before you could even say my full name. Don’t forget, Minyard,” she winked. “I’ve got him wrapped around my finger, too.”

*

this will continue in p.2 with july-december!! after that we’ll go back to our regularly scheduled softness and humour. i’ve already got another one-shot planned around kevin and neil.... :D

[imagine-fight-write]

RANDOM - Banana Fish Review, Vol. 1, Part Four

(This was one of my fav gifs looking for gifs of Shorter.)

*There will be pictures/gifs included tomorrow, because this is already late & loading them is taking forever, for some reason.

Haha, no, I actually prettied it up 1/5/21. Yes, I’m glorious.

No I’m actually Dio DIO in this situation, who am I kidding.

(This transition from Caesar to Dio fascinates me, by the way.) (The GIF.)

The JOJO reference is because I’ve finally finished Diamond is Unbreakable! It was fun! I enjoyed it a lot! Ready for the next part!

But back to Banana Fish.

Hope you enjoy this!

So my plans failed again. Who is surprised? (Not me.)

I apologize profusely for the gaping void of Banana Fish-ness left since last I posted.

No really. I now have an alarm set for every Wednesday.

Let’s see how this goes. News Update: Maybe next time.

Also, my internet is still blitzy & rotten, otherwise I would’ve posted this yesterday (the 15th).

Now on to the in-depth, delighted gushing - er, review, of Banana Fish!

*Also, this is part 4, and 4 is a special number for me. Because of this guy:

And I can spell his name correctly!!! (It’s Ulquiorra, from Bleach, my 1st anime fan gushing love.)

Yes, I’m strange. Moving on.

So, brief recap, since I’m not sure anyone has read Part 3, given how terrifyingly long it is. If you missed it, here’s the link:

https://imagine-fight-write.tumblr.com/post/632014616404344832/random-banana-fish-review-vol-1-part-3-my

Please love & like it & repost to the rest of the Web. I worked tremendously hard on it.

Yes it’s long, but oh, it was delightful! There was snark! Delicious food! Wine! Fabulous mustaches! Mysteries! I gushed so much!

(And snarled at the wonton waste of good breakfast food, which I will not forget & always condemn.)

*I mean, I know people who will throw up if they have breakfast in the morning. But it’s important to eat so you have energy to do things & feel good.

And Dino took a perfectly beautiful breakfast & essentially wasted it for no good reason. I was so mad.

We meet Dino Golzine, a.k.a., Ash’s worst nemesis /enemy (note, I can’t spell nemesis) and major reason for why his life sucks.

(Although society doesn’t help either. Though the police try. They really do. Except what’s his face who’s complete scum & thoughtless, but we won’t meet him til Vol. 2. Plus I don’t think he has a name?)

But yes, Dino Golzine. All around awful person, and not safe around children (or anyone, really.) He’s low-key in this scene, mostly using verbal assaults (to great effect) but just you wait. There’s a reason he’s a mob boss.

Ash snarks, to great effect, but he’s no match. Dino has all the cards and all the dice (cards & dice being metaphors for power, & how he involves awful, painful memories of Ash’s past & tries to manipulate & order him around. Brrr.)

But Ash rallies, and ultimately refuses returning to be Dino’s heir / toy.

We meet Shorter! Huzzah!

(End of recap.)

It’s clear right away Shorter & Ash are old friends. They exchange quips about Marvin. We learn Marvin holds a mean grudge, so savvy readers can guess it’ll come to play later (it does.)

Shorter’s last line is strange.

“Just don’t put me in the position of having to kill you.”

Which is kinda out of the blue. I don’t know what to make of it. It doesn’t spoil or fore-shadow anything (unless in a very confused, round-about way) because that never happens later. So I’m confused.

Ash laughs it off and goes zooming off on his motor-bike / motorcycle (not sure which).

Note, from this short scene we already learn Shorter has his own sources of information - he knows Ash went to Dino’s, fast enough to be there before their conversation ended (unless he was just lucky to be there already  - why was he there?). He already knows about Ash’s talk with Marvin, with enough detail to warn Ash about Marvin’s temper & that Marvin likes him, which is a bad combination.

Shorter is smart & cares about his friends, warning Ash about Marvin. 

Aren’t friends great?

Especially after meeting such a dominating if soft spoken monster like Dino?

The answer is yes.

Next, we get this hilariously great shot of Ash running up the steps to his dingy apartment (pg. 47.)

 It’s reminiscent for me of a scene in JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Part 1, when Jonathan & Dino have their epic fight in the Joestar mansion.

There’s a part where Jonathan does this epic flip up to a second floor via sword (it’s epic) & it ends with this a few-seconds-longer-than it-needs-to-be shot of his butt. You can’t miss it. I’m usually oblivious to such things & I noticed it. I laugh every single time.

Anyway, back to Banana Fish.

(The atmosphere of grunginess (it’s not a word, I meant dirty, ugly, rough) & spartan furniture is great. Just look at those walls. I adore it. 

(But would never want to live there.) Ash is clearly not rich & after Dino’s rich mansion, this is a stark contrast.

Also, there are no pictures or posters on the walls (which are festooned with dirt and cracks instead.) In fact, there’s almost nothing in terms of personal effects at all.

This baffles me. I mean yes, I assume they’re all dirt poor, living in a gang & working for the mafia on the side isn’t something you do for the luxuries. But surely they’d have something.

Or maybe it has something to do with Japanese decorating aesthetics? Meaning, Japanese appear to be more spartan than Americans in terms of decor (see the book, In Praise of Shadows, for example.) 

* I can’t spell aesthetics. Why do I even use that word?

The apartment just looks extremely bare compared to others I’ve seen in movies depicting this era. Is what I’m saying.

Look at those bare walls. (It hurts me.)

Thoughts? Comments on how Japanese, Americans, and Europeans differ in basic decorating styles? Comment below!

Also remember as always, Banana Fish is both set & was written in the 1980’s, well before the “modern” style we have now.

Unless - wait. There is something very important to Ash which he’s clearly hiding in the apartment he goes to, which I assume only Skip & select members know about.

So maybe this isn’t actually Ash’s main base, where he sleeps & hangs out?

Yes, that must be it.

If you’re confused, I’ll explain once we get done with this section.

Moving on.

We meet Skip!!!! (Pg.47)

Black characters (and Latino) are still, alas, extremely rare in manga, anime, & other media, so all the cheers for including Skip so early & as such an important character.

Because Skip is very important. For multiple reasons. More on that later. Also note, 1 of the gang members Ash busts earlier is also black.

Again, the dialogue is great here between Ash & Skip, establishing Ash’s trust in him. Which is no small thing.

Skip is like Shorter, (agh, both their names start with S) sweet, but also has a nose for news.

Arthur’s going to get it, hah!

There’s yet another reference to it being early.

Though there’s no specific time mentioned . . . Nope, not since Ash found the poor, dying banana fish dude.

Does Ash usually sleep in? Is he a night owl? He was wandering around at 1 in the morning last night, after all.

*Yes, technically it was early morning, but it was still dark, so bite me.

But then, he was also suspicious & keeping tabs on his 2 gang members. So, who knows.

But I’m going to guess he’s a night owl.

Ash sits on the bed, and after Skip mentions everything is good, “him, too”.

 Ash gives his 1st real, genuine smile. Gentle, relieved, no hard edges. Just pure happiness & relief. It’s sweet.

(Also, I just realized the “him, too” is supposed to be a surprise / shock for the reader & I spoiled it earlier. I do apologize.)

Skip offers to get coffee but Ash declines, deciding to nap, which reminds me:

Actually, drinking coffee before you take a nap can, for some people, actually make you sleep better.

Also, short cat naps (15-30mins) can boost your energy and mood.

Naps are good for you!

I almost wondered if the comics Skip had on the table might’ve been manga, but remembered it was the 1980’s and, far as I know, manga wasn’t big the U.S. yet. Alas!

Which is funny if you think about this being in a manga.

Skip goes to leave. Ash puts his hand in his pocket and gets this intense, almost fierce expression on his face (middle panel, pg. 48).

I was absolutely baffled by this reaction for a long time, but finally figured it out. Ash’s reaction is supposed to be baffling, because what he realizes right here will be revealed in the next few pages.

Skip, concerned, asks what’s up, but Ash brushes him off and sends him off to buy coffee. (After which I sincerely hope he takes a nap, because he needs one, he’s been up all night.) Sleep is good for you!

Skip is able to buy coffee with a single coin. A single coin.

(Sorry, I couldn’t resist.)

All my tears, and curses on inflation and overpriced coffee! And Starbucks!

Anyway, we learn Arthur’s going to get it (and Skip is the best spy ever) and the scene cuts to:

Our favorite person (not) Dino Golzine, tending his orchids.

I like this. It’s a rather unique hobby for a villian. I assume to give him a refined, elegant, and exact air.

He’s interrupted by Angie & his fabulous mustache (snickers) and this delightfully comic scientist person (who might be important later? The face sameness makes it difficult to judge, & I’m too lazy to consult my other volumes, which are not close by.)

But his entrance is priceless (pg. 50). I mean seriously, please go find it if you haven’t already. It’s dramatic, with a big WHAM! & he looks so cartoonish. 

I love it.

Dino tells him, essentially, “don’t disturb my orchids” and me being an non-gardner person, I wonder: is it actually true loud noises can disturb flowers?

Comment below!

Anyway, Dino quickly establishes yes, he did send Ash’s gang members to kill the poor banana fish guy who started this whole mystery, and yes, it was important.

There’s a great panel (pg. 51) of scientist dude, drawn much less comedic, the whole panel black except for a white aura around him sweating and clearly in distress.

He whispers, “It - it’s gone.”

Dino snaps to attention with a leonine look, exactly like a cat who has just spotted another cat. It’s easily my favorite picture of Dino so far, very striking.

The dialogue is brilliant and snappy, short and direct.

“What is gone? . . . You’re positive? . . . Just a small amount.”

And we get the grand reveal:

Ash, taking out a bullet shaped capsule (was the shape intentional by Yoshida?). A capsule he’d clearly taken from the dying banana fish guy. There’s a great panel on the bottom of pg. 52 of Ash’s questioning expression and a ?

He unscrews the capsule and pulls out a tiny vial.

Thinks of the address the dying banana fish guy gave him.

Ash goes into the next room, where we see the silhouette of someone sitting with a plaid blanket draped across their knees.

He expresses his first real look of vulnerability, and gives a wonderful line:

“Go see . . . Banana fish . . . He said it and died. And you say it and you might as well be dead. Who did this to you? Griff . . . Please tell me, big brother.”

Everything clicks together (almost.)

Griff /Griffin is the soldier shown way back in the very beginning. The one who left for a few minutes and came back insane and shot up his squad.

Who’s now a human vegetable.

Banana fish is clearly responsible. Somehow.

And Dino is mixed in with it (of course). Pieces are coming together, but questions still remain.

Until next time!

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

The Backstage Pass (Out)

Hey everyone... this is still not an update of Do You Wanna Dance? but another pathetic attempt of me to provide you with PJ-related reading material... Sssooo, there was this post of @gardenofstoney... and I’ve always taken tags verry seriously. I felt addressed since the situation she described sounded absolutely like a perfect fanfic material so I ended up playing with the idea. One thing led to another and a Stone Gossard one-shot happened, which I hereby share with you (with her and @mookiebaelock’s consent). Disclaimer: may contain traces of Jeff Ament!

Ps. I solemnly swear I get Judy out of the shower soon.

„Are you sure you don’t want to move towards the side of the stage? These Vedder-fanatics seem pretty dangerous, I’m not sure I want to be here when they go wild…” Mel asked fidgeting with the setups of her professional camera.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m fine here…” Maggie answered leaning her forehead against her arms that were resting on the barrier. She was dog-tired; she and her best friend, Mel were cueing the whole day to get there at the show of their favorite band, Pearl Jam. Actually, Pearl Jam was their second favorite band but it was the rock group that brought them together. They saw each other’s introduction in the “Pen Pal Wanted” column of Footsteps, the band’s fanzine and the rest was history... And finally, they were there, standing at their precious front row places, waiting for the show to begin…

They agreed on standing in front of the center of the stage since they both had different preferences… Mel was dying to make close shots of her bassist crush (and maybe steal a few smiles and glances from him), while Maggie was interested in the other side of the stage… to be more accurate, in the person who regularly ruled it. Stone Gossard. The absent-minded, aloof alien who played the rhythm guitar parts and who, unfortunately, wasn’t the most responsive member of the band. He was said to be a sarcastic, hilarious and nice guy but at shows he just… didn’t give a shit about the crowd. He was usually absorbed in the songs, following the rhythm with his entire body, marching to the beat or just bobbing his head… but that was all. No interaction, no communication, just the chords. If Maggie had been alone there, she would have picked his side and stayed there as if she had been pinned to the ground… but Mel wanted to stand near Jeff so they made a compromise. Of course, Mel tried every kind of dirty trick to lure her closer to Mike’s and Jeff’s territory and Maggie begged desperately with her irresistible sad puppy face to move in the other direction, after all, if the mountain won't come to Muhammad… and Jeff would bounce around, anyways, she argued. But neither of them could convince the other one so they were stuck in front of the place of Eddie Vedder and they knew they would have to fight hard to be able to keep their position.

“You will defend me, I know.” Maggie cuddled to her friend, letting herself be pulled in a bear hug. She was short and slim, the top of her head barely reached the level of the tall Mel’s chin, that’s why they often joked about themselves being two dogs coming from different species but being allies and best friends forever.

“I’ll defend you just… not now, oh my god, ohmygod, they’re here, that’s him!!!” Mel suddenly let her go frantically taking one picture after another of her main target.

“Okay, I can’t win against Jeff Ament…” Maggie shook her head with a forgiving smile only to discover the object of her admiration appearing on the other side of the stage, walking around with a deadpan on his face. She couldn’t help chuckling when she noticed he was wearing a black socks-dress shoes combo... with light brown shorts. She’d already got used to these weird testimonies of his terrible fashion sense but he always managed to surprise her with a newer unacceptable outfit.

When the singer finally showed up too, the crowd moved forward, pressing the girls against the barrier… and from that moment on, they only had some rest during the slower songs. Not that they wanted to complain, they were singing along the lyrics, screaming, laughing, crying or just squeezing each other’s hand making sure they were not dreaming, they were finally together, having the time of their life, really living their favorite songs. Mel was overly contented with seeing the bass player’s manly moves in the tight tank top he was wearing and the passionate solos and dazed-off moments of Mike pleased both of them too, even if they were within the spitting range of Ed. But as time went by, they both started feeling the depressing thought that this would be over soon, even if they tried to fight against it by bouncing and screaming twice as intensely as before…

When Stone started playing the opening chords of State of Love and Trust, the crowd went completely nuts and Maggie had to tighten her grip not to be drifted… the pressure behind her eased for a second but at once, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head and lost the touch with the outside world…

***

Mhmmmm… what are these bright lights? I must have died and got in that shining corridor about which people who experienced clinical death always tell…

“Jesus, I go blind…” I mumble… or am I just hearing my own thoughts? Shit, this splitting headache, I’m definitely alive, I must have fallen asleep after taking in my migraine pill.

“Do you prefer low light?” a nasal male voice asks and as I look around, I find myself lying on a couch but I’m not in my own apartment, I don’t know this place. Oh, so I’m in a dream, nice, let’s see where it’s going…

“Yes, please!” I groan covering my eyes.

“Clouds roll by… sorry, bad joke, here, is it better his way?”

I take away my hand from my eyes and let them adjust to the pleasant half-light provided probably by a standing lamp somewhere out of my sight. When did I learn how to change the setting of my dreams? Cool… The owner of the voice takes place opposite me only to make me realize, I’m in a Stone dream, moreover, this time it’s a new one.

“Are you okay?” he’s checking me with the inquiring but still expressionless stare of a toad.

“More or less…” I mumble helplessly. Interesting, I’ve never had such a vivid dream about him, it’s somehow different, like I was in charge, I’ve never felt like this before while dreaming… Familiar melodies provide the musical accompaniment, I have to listen for a few bars until I recognize Yellow Ledbetter… but he’s here… and the music comes from…?

“Are we… at a show?” I ask suspiciously, I’m afraid that despite the realistic surrounding, it’ll turn into an incoherent screenplay written by my subconscious.

“Yes, we are…”

“But how come you’re not playing? You should be on the stage with the others…”

“I don’t feel like playing… I mean in that song, I have basically not much to do, I strum the same chords as Mike, it’s boring. At sound checks, sometimes I beg until I can play the drum parts, I’m a desperate drummer but I love it. But the rhythm guitar part is just… nah. Plus, I had to pee, anyways.”

“Fair enough.” I snicker. He’s such an awkward dork, even in my dreams. “Well, that happens if a musician is too busy with drinking beer at gigs instead of playing”.

“Excuse me?” he startles offended. That’s my favorite thing in dreaming, I can do and say what I’d never dare in real life.

“Do you think we don’t notice when you’re just fudging, walking around with the guitar and use the change of amplifier setups as an excuse to take a few sip of your booze? That doesn’t really count as musical contribution.”

“Ugh, busted. I try not to drink before the show though. Right as soon as I get onstage I start drinking. But come on, I never belch out of key, what’s this if not musical humility?”

I snort shaking my head and keep grinning from ear to ear. If he’s such a hilariously funny guy in my fantasy, how adorable he can be in the reality… I know he used to be an annoying, sarcastic little shit but when PJ got really successful, he mellowed down and made himself to the main target of his irony… The mixture of this down-to-earth humbleness and calm confidence was one of the main reasons why he became my favorite member in the band; in the band that only consists of great, relatable people, by the way.

Maybe I should use the occasion to have a chitchat with him, I could ask him questions about stuff I’ve always wanted to know… even if the answers are only the products of my mind…

“Do you see the world in yellow?”

Okay, maybe that’s not the best start but the colored lenses of his spectacles somehow distracted me and it just slipped out. He reacts with that short, amused eyebrow twitch I love… good job, Maggie.

“It’s a good question! It’s funny, nobody asked that before… but to answer it, I do, it’s like being trapped in that moment of sunset when everything is glowing in that golden light… but to be less poetic, it makes everyone look as if they were Lego figures, they have yellow head, y’know…”

The mentioning of my favorite toy brings back old memories about the times when I was building my own town with eclectic houses that served as the scene of the made-up action stories crafted by my cousin and me.

“I you were a Lego figure, you’d be a bad boy.” I remark with a timid smile and try to ignore the fact that my cheeks are in flames.

“Only if I were a Lego figure? That’s offensive. I was the member of the gang Newton Street Boys. We were the most dangerous guys on whole Capitol Hill, we terrorized the district by taking protection rackets from kindergarten pupils. They were scared to death when we showed up riding our bikes, I liked the banana-seat ones with the high handlebars - maybe a card in the wheel could have been part of it.” he chuckles playfully. “Anyway, why a bad boy?”

“It’s because of the scruff.” I giggle and reach out to pinch his neck but he leans away.

“Please don’t touch me.” he grunts.

Hey, brain, we had an agreement: if I behave decently enough in real life, you won’t throw any obstacles in the way of my naughty tendencies at nights. So if I want to touch Stone’s perfect neck, I’m gonna to do it. Period.

“I said no!!!” he repeats this time angrier when my fingers approach his skin again. What the hell???

“Sorry. I… I just wanted to say that there were those bearded figures… and you could get them mostly from the pirate or the police station series.”

“You mean they had an attachable Lego beard?” he inquires confused and excited at the same time; I’m sure he’s already forgotten the embarrassing intermezzo and is now desperately trying to recall the look of the little yellow dudes.

“Haha, no, it was just painted on their face. There was the moustache, the regular beard and the scruff that basically meant black dots on their face. And the scruffy guys always played the role of the bad boys in my stories. You know, the bank robber, the fleeing prisoner…”

“… the fucked-up musician… we should definitely have a Lego party once!”

“We should…” I repeat and we’re smiling silently at each other for a few seconds… I clear my throat and swallow hard since my mouth got completely dry, shit, it must be that damn gum-shield I have to wear at nights to prevent myself from gnashing.

“You want some water?” he asks walking to a fridge standing at the door.

“Fuck, yes, I’m dying of thirst.” I moan and I mean it.

“Here.” he hands a small bottle to me while he opens a beer can. I rather don’t make any remarks, the show is over, after all… But now that I think into it, maybe the other band members will show up too… I can’t wait!

I lower my head and press the ice cold bottle against my forehead. It feels incredibly good, that blinding pain is still pulsing in my head. As I direct my gaze onto the ground, I can’t help laughing again when I spot his dress shoes and the black socks tucked into them. The hem rolled down around his left ankle making the socks look like they were unmatched.

However thirsty I am, I can only take small sips since I’m already snorting at the next part of this weird vision.

“Anyway… before the others would arrive, there’s one thing we have to discuss.” I begin when I finally manage to force my facial muscles into a serious expression.

“Something that stays between us? Like a dirty little secret?” his face lights up with a boyish smile.

“Kind of, if your socks are dirty…” I roll my eyes. “It’s the footwear.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Of course yours, mine is normal. Matching boots, a totally adequate choice for a rock concert. But yours is just… criminal.”

“Don’t be rude with my shoes, they look good and they are comfy as fuck!” he circles with his feet comically.

“They do but man, look in that mirror!” I point at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. “You look like the mixture of an elementary school boy and a bachelor dressed by his mother. Shorts with dress shoes? How? Why? It’s an obvious no-no!” I scream.

“I have only these ones, sneakers and flip flops with me, which doesn’t leave much variation.” he shrugs briefly.

“You should have chosen the sneakers… as for the “f” word, I’m not even willing to pronounce it.”

“I always wore hiking boots in the earlier times, they were the most comfortable choice but they weren’t compatible with the heat on stage. And then, I got introduced in the magical world of orthopedic sandals but the band somehow vetoed them, I don’t really understand why... I was only allowed to wear them between shows and at soundchecks but at gigs, I had to wear the boots… Once, before a show, maybe in Atlanta, I can’t remember exactly, the sole of my boot separated so I could only wear my sandals… the guys freaked out about my velvet shorts-sweatpants-white socks-sandals outfit and obliged me to wear Jeff’s shoes during the show.” he recalls but I can barely listen to him, his hand talk and the fidgeting alien fingers are definitely more appealing than the image of Birkenstocks worn with socks.

As my eyes are glued to him, I involuntarily start playing with my hair but my fingers land in something sticky. I check them and glance at him helplessly, as if he could help me find out why blood is the next nonsense feature in this scene.

“Fuck, why didn’t you tell me earlier that you’re bleeding?” he shouts and rushes to the fridge.

“Because I didn’t know…” I mutter and can’t form further coherent sentences since he steps back to me with an ice bag and presses it to the back of my head… and he keeps standing opposite me with his arms laced around my neck. I’m desperately trying to look at the ceiling, the ground and the four walls at the same time, anywhere but him…

“This is too embarrassing, I want this to finally end… this is terrible.” I whisper in pain, fixing my gaze on the ugly shoes and working on calming down my hyperventilation with all my nerves.

“Hey, I just wanted to help! Just for the record, we don’t often let passed-out fans in the backstage, you were in bad shape and…”

“No, I mean, thanks and all but this dream… it’s going nowhere, it was funny but you entering into my personal space creates a tension that needs resolution, like a hug or a kiss or anything, this makes just no sense!” I blurt out, basically arguing with myself, the director of the movie.

“What? That doctor could finally arrive, you must have a concussion!” he gently tries to push me back onto to the couch but I shake his hands off me.

“What doctor... wait… the pain… the blood… is this… real?” I flail still hoping he doesn’t exist and suddenly disappears or turns into my real crush or Edge from U2 or whatever.

“You got hit with by a half-empty beer can and you passed out so the security personnel fished you out of the crowd. Since I came back anyway, I suggested that they should lay you down here until they get a doctor. You got a backstage pass by passing out. A backstage pass out.” he tries to ease he situation with a pun but I’m not really in the mood.

“No… the scruff… the shoes… the ki… I can’t believe I said all this bullshit, this is worse than a nightmare…” I bury my face into my palms completely mortified and stumble back towards the couch dizzily. Suddenly, I hear a familiar voice… Mel!!!

***

“I’m not going to repeat this again, my best friend is in that room so if you won’t let me in immediately, I’m going to fuckin’ sue you!!!” Mel pointed with her index finger outraged at the huge guy standing in front of the door of the dressing room. Actually, instead of suing, she wanted to headbutt him in the chest but she knew it would feel like running into a concrete wall. She’d already been arguing with him for like fifteen minutes but the guy was just standing there with folded arms, stoically bearing the threats and the various spells casted on him by the furious girl.

“Hey, Ernie, I think you can let her in, her friend has just woken up, it’d be better if she’s with her when the doctor arrives…” a top of a head with ruffled hair peeked out of the door. The security guard obeyed and silently stepped aside.

“Maggie!!!” Mel shouted and tossed the young man in the door away to get a free way to her friend. “I was so worried about you!!!” she captured her into a rib-breaking hug.

“I’m… I’m okay… Stone took care of me…” Maggie mumbled against Mel’s chest trying to point at the guitarist under her friend’s arm.

“Stone???” Mel screamed making both of them turn around without breaking the hug.

“Yup.” the guitarist waved clumsily with one hand at her, digging his other hand deeply in his pocket.

Maggie managed to tiptoe enough to rest her head on her friend’s shoulder, which allowed her to saw the door opening… only to recognize the other members of the band arriving back from the stage. The small group was guided by Jeff who stopped at the door exchanging a surprised look with the embarrassed guitarist standing in the room.

Maggie started silently shaking of laughter because she could already imagine what’d happen next…

“Uhm… Mel… I’m choking… please let me go…” she acted patting her friend’s back a few times. “I think you should turn back… slowly…” she recommended biting her lips to hide her amusement when she pulled away to see the girl’s reaction.

“Why… what…?” Mel looked back over her shoulder and… due to the bassist’s excellent reflexes, she didn’t land on the ground but in his arms. Jeff stared shocked alternately at the unconscious girl and the other ones, begging for help with his eyes.

“Jesus, not again… “Stone sighed facepalming.” She’s yours, I’m out.”