#i more lean to obscure reference type things but also I just like seeing nice things

[corrodedcoughin]

Hi sorry silly question but what does everyone do with the nice stickers they buy but don’t want to go to waste?

[sunjaesol]

“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

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“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

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[adobe-outdesign]

Are you still sharing your thoughts on pokemon evo lines? If so id be interested in hearing your thoughts on the blipbug line if you haven't done so already :0c

I like the idea of a bookworm Pokemon quite a bit, but Blipbug doesn't quite do it for me. Its head is just so weird. The weird split eyes, combined with the elongated head and nearly nonexistent mouth, make it look more like a placeholder doodle than a finished product.

Also, it's nice to see a larval stage for a ladybug (as most people forget they have one), but I'd never guess this was a ladybug and not a caterpillar. Ladybug larva are pretty distinctive compared to other larva, and I wish they would've leaned a bit more into the "plated" look:

Especially because Blipbug doesn't look much like its evolutions. It's not so much in design, as it does carry through a little, but more in shape. The rest of the line relies on orbs and spherical shapes, and Dottler almost has a geometric look, so I would've liked something a bit more angular here to carry it through. Rigid plating would've helped with that.

Once again, another obscure ladybug thing to reference, that being that ladybugs have a pupa stage:

The lower body feels a bit unresolved to me; just something about the tacked-on spines(?) and the weird eyes it shares with Blipbug hold it back. I like the angular casing and the colors however, and it's starting to have something going for it.

Orbeetle I quite like. Using the round shell as more of an extension of its head really works well for making it look like an alien-esq psychic-type. The pointed toes and clawed limbs are also nice and the swirly eyes finally look right on the face, with bonus points for the big weird eyebrows. I dig it.

I don't dig the g-max as much, however. The idea of making the shell into a UFO is the right direction, but it just ends up hilariously mis-proportioned compared to the rest of it, to the point where it no longer resembles a ladybug shell or even part of its body (seriously, how does the body connect to that thing). I like the blue accents on the body, but this really didn't go in the right direction despite the great concept.

[yoonia]

Pay by Play (M)

Pay By Play - A Gift Made With Love for our dearest @btsracket​, a homage for Cam Boy as part of the Made With Love Project held by @bangtansmutcentral​

↳ Pairings/Genre: Jeon Jungkook x female reader | Cam Boy!au, Smut, Voyeurism

↳ Word count | 3,610 words

↳ Ratings | +18 / M for Mature

↳ Author’s Note | Happy belated Valentine’s Day, dear @btsracket​. Forgive me that it took me so long to give you this gift. I had some troubles in deciding which one to pay homage to when I ended up getting drown in your masterlist since you are a really talented writer. I hope this one will please you dearly as I have enjoyed reading Cam Boy! Jimin :)

↳ Warning | including sex talk, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, fingering (solo, female), handjob (solo, male), slight cum play

Disclaimer: References to the original content belong to Original author. The following content and characterisation are copyrighted as followed.

The web page seems to take forever to load and the wait is making you anxious. So you step away from your laptop and start to move around the room to distract yourself from it.

You give another look at your bedroom window, making sure that it is locked and that the curtains are secured tightly to obscure you from outside. Not that your bedroom will be visible from anywhere, but one cannot always be too sure about it. Then you walk to the door, making sure that it is also locked, so nobody could suddenly burst inside while you are in the middle of doing what you are about to do.

By the time you return to your laptop, the landing page has opened, showing you the log in set-up to get through.

Are we really doing this? You wonder with a groan as your fingers are hovering on top of your keyboard. Yes, we are, you tell yourself when you hit enter. You have saved enough money for this, so what is the point on backing up on it now?

“Oh, fishsticks,” you murmur to yourself when you begin filling up the registration form.

Username?

You start typing, Raven—

Uh, hell no, you shake your head and delete it. There is no way you are going to use the same username as the one you regularly use to play your online games, which conveniently, is also used publicly on your Twitch account. You decide to type another name.

BabyGurl95.

Is that too much? You tilt your head as you stare at the screen. Oh, what the hell. You decide to let it go and continue dealing with the rest.

More questions about your legal identity appear next and you enter the response one at a time, entering them along with your credit card number and a few things that you would normally keep to yourself instead of sharing them to other people. Then comes the questions regarding the choices of rooms for you to enter next.

Private Room/Joint room? Private. 

You still feel awkward about doing this, and you simply cannot imagine having to share a room with a few other people. Especially when you know for sure that it would only leave you to become a bystander without getting a chance to get involved, even if this option would require you to send a full token payment ahead.

Preferences? You skim down the list of options to choose from and tilt your head in frustration. Oh, how am I supposed to know? You wonder as you tick the last option box — Open to anything.

Thank you for providing your information. Redirecting—

The next page pops up on the screen, showing you a few photos of faceless men with amazingly sculpted abs. Different screen names are added beneath each one, noting the different rooms that are available for you to enter. You choose one that sounds — and seems — the least intimidating out of the others.

You will be redirected to the next available room.

It doesn’t take them any longer than a minute to send you to the next page, straight to the chatroom.

DazzlingKook is online.

The screen changes to a video chat, revealing a very young, very attractive guy sitting across the screen. A soft tune of music is playing in the background and you can faintly hear him humming to the song, even if you could barely see his face with the way his hair is falling over it.

His voice sounds nice.

The guy is sitting back on his lazy chair at the center a room that looks like a bit of a mix between a dorm room and a bachelor pad. He seems to be enjoying his time, relaxing as if he has yet to notice that you are there, watching him. You appreciate it, however, since it could give you a moment to admire him silently before you could get on with it.

His hair is a mix of black with blue streaks at the edge of each strand, glowing like silk under the lights with a few subtle curls appearing at the parts which curtain his face.

His outfit is pretty simple. The tight black T-shirt he is wearing nearly leaves nothing to your imagination as his wide shoulders, buff chest, and toned arms are accentuated perfectly beneath it. Neither does the grey sweatpants he is wearing, when the fabric fails to hide his toned thighs underneath. Your eyes move to the center, right between his legs, where you run your gaze at the prominent lines of his bulge, but you immediately look away before getting a clearer view.

Too soon, you tell yourself as your eyes fall on his right arm instead, where you find a few beautiful ink works covering his skin from his knuckles and all the way up to the part of skin that is covered by his sleeve. It is not often that you become attracted to tattoos, but his tattoo works look so perfect on him.

As your eyes move to his face, your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you find him already looking at the screen with a smile growing on his lips.

“Oh, hello,” he says, while you realise that his voice sounds even more beautiful when he speaks. “We have a guest today.”

You say nothing yet and can only watch as he leans closer, his face coming clearer on the screen while he takes a moment to read something on his side of the screen. “Welcome, Baby Girl,” he greets you, his voice lowering to a purr when he reads your username out loud. “My name is Jungkook. Looks like it’s just you and me for today.”

His beautiful eyes are glowing, as if there are stars hidden beneath those dark orbs. His gaze is sharp, penetrating through the screen, and you could feel the heat on your skin as you look up at his beautiful face and his adorable smile. You tug nervously on your tank top, tidying yourself and flushing for a moment before remembering that he would not be able to see you, nearly forgetting that you have chosen the option to let this be a one-sided chat for now. And you feel more than relieved for having to choose it earlier.

Taking a deep breath, you notice that he is waiting for you to start talking — or, in this case, to chat. So you reach the keyboard and type down the only thing that comes up in your mind.

BabyGurl95: Hi there.

“Hello to you too, Baby Girl,” he answers you, smiling, once again saying your username in a way which makes your skin feel warmer.

BabyGurl95: I hope I wasn’t interrupting.

His lips curl up to a smile that is both sweet and mischievous. This time, you notice how his eyes sparkle right before his smile appears. “Oh, no you weren’t. You came just at the right time. I kind of needed a friend and here you are.”

BabyGurl95: Oh, do you? What have you been up to?

This guy, Jungkook, stretches out and leans back on his chair with his hands crossed behind his head. The move requires him to flex the muscles up on his arms and stretches his tight shirt further up his abs. “Nothing much. I was just waiting for you,” he says while drawling his voice to a groan.

BabyGurl95: You’re making me blush.

And you are not lying. Your cheeks are warm for seeing those muscles of his and thanks to how fast your mind is rushing to the gutter. You nearly drool at his sight and he has yet to take anything off. And there is also that gaze of his. The gaze that is filled with mirth and lust as if you are right there standing in front of him.

“Really?” he asks you with a wide grin. He leans forward once again, propping his elbows on his knees so he could be a bit closer to the screen. The voice that comes out of his lips next is much lower when he speaks, “Do you blush easily, Baby Girl? I wish I could see it. I’d love to make you blush more often.”

Heat comes rising from inside your stomach before it begins to rush up to your cheeks and down between your legs. His words make you smile though, as you surely know exactly how easy he could make you flustered under his dark gaze and sultry words. He is definitely good at this.

BabyGurl95: I like your tattoos.

You decide to send him, having the need to distract yourself from how your body is reacting to him.

“Thank you,” he says, his face beaming with his pride smile. He looks down on his arm for a second and starts running his hand up and down the ink work on his skin. You lick your lips, your fingers are clutched on your lap, itching to run your own fingers through those marvellous lines.

His voice snaps you out of your reverie as he tilts his head to his right shoulder and says, “I have some more right up here. Wanna see?”

I want to see them all, you wonder while nibbling on your bottom lip.

BabyGurl95: Yes. Show me.

Jungkook chuckles softly and grips the hem of his shirt. He doesn’t look away as he begins pulling the shirt up, his face disappearing only briefly as he passes the shirt over his head and then it is gone from his clutch the next second. He straightens up to show you the rest of the tattoo which had been covered under the sleeve of his shirt and begins running his hand over the ink once more.

Yet this time, as you run your gaze up and down his bare arms, shoulders, and now exposed chest, you find that his arm is not the only thing you want to run your fingers on. And the urge becomes even stronger when he begins to do it for you, when he trails his fingers down the lines of his abs, making a few stops at his nipples before reaching down, the tips of his delicate fingers brushing at the line leading down to his covered crotch.

BabyGurl95: They are beautiful.

BabyGurl95: Your tattoos, I mean.

—you quickly add, though you were not exactly just talking about his tattoos. Every inch of the lines on his body makes it seem like he had been sculpted by a talented artist.

“You know,” his voice once again brings your gaze back to his face. “It’s kind of unfair that I can’t see you.”

BabyGurl95: Sorry, I’m a bit shy. This is my first time.

His eyebrows rise up and the curiosity on his face grows stronger. “Is it? I’m your first? Then it’s an honour that you’ve chosen me,” he says. “I like shy girls the most. Bet you’re blushing right now too.”

Your hands reach up to cup your cheeks, feeling warm under the skin and hating the fact that he is right. Your heartbeat starts pacing while his gaze deepens further. “Are you nervous, Baby Girl?”

BabyGurl95: Very. At least I was. But not anymore. You’re being nice to me and it helps a lot.

Again, you are not lying. Suddenly, you are feeling more bold the more your body heat pulses down to your core. Bold enough to type down the next message you are sending him,

BabyGurl95: Will it make it more fair if I tell you what I’m wearing?

He grins. “Really? Then tell me.”

Biting your lips, you decide to tease him a little.

BabyGurl95: I am wearing a white tank top with a very low front and short pants, stopping right beneath my hips. I may have also forgotten to put on a bra.

His eyes move slowly as he reads your message, then he suddenly releases a deep growl. “Looks like my shy girl can be bad after all,” he says to you while groaning deeply, which has your body heating up instantly to the sound of it. “You’re such a tease, but I’m glad you told me so I can picture you in my head.”

Jungkook grins as he leans back, spreading his legs apart. “Tell me how bad you want me to be today. I’ll do it for you.” He stretches out again, flexing his muscles, and the sight of him doing it ignites the flame inside you further when you can see everything instead of imagining it like how you did when he still had his shirt on.

BabyGurl95: I think you’re still a bit overdressed though.

BabyGurl95: Are you wearing anything underneath those pants?

He only chuckles. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asks you playfully. “But don’t worry, I’m here to please my Baby Girl today, so let me show you instead, hmm?”

He stands up from his seat, making a show for you as he gently pushes his sweatpants down. The pants slide down his hips, and his rigid cock instantly springs out the moment it is relieved from its restraint. Jungkook kicks his pants away and looks down, grinning widely as if he knows exactly where your eyes might be looking at.

“I’ve been going all commando today, knowing that you were going to be here,” he teases, groaning softly when he reaches down, touching his hard shaft with his palm. “Oh, look—I think I’m all hard for you, Baby Girl.”

And you can clearly see it. His cock looks so hard and stiff against his palm, its girth is wide enough to probably split you in half. The thought itself makes the space between your legs begin to pulse harder, your walls are clenching and throbbing the more you imagine him filling you up.

“Are you wet for me, Baby Girl? Is watching me making you wet?” he asks you, while you gasp aloud, feeling as if you are caught in the act.

Snapping out of your daze, you decide to tease him again.

BabyGurl95: Wouldn’t you like to know?

He laughs. “You’re cute. I think I like you, Baby Girl,” he says, chuckling, and you notice how his hand is still on his cock.

“Ever been with anyone as big as me?” he asks you with a smug grin on his face. “I might feel hurt if you tell me that you’ve seen something better,” he adds, pouting dramatically which makes you feel a bit giddy.

BabyGurl95: No, you’re beautiful. So perfect.

BabyGurl95: You look so hard. So stiff. I don’t even think my hand will fit around it.

“Really, now?” he asks you breathlessly. He barely has his hand wrapped tightly around his girth yet his body is already shaking, a sign that teasing and giving you a show has aroused him as well. “Think I’m too big for your small hands, baby?”

BabyGurl95: I want to see what it looks like if you wrap your hand around your cock. I want to imagine your cock in my hand.

With a lazy grin on his face and a soft chuckle, he wraps his palm around his cock tighter, instantly groaning to the touch of his hand on his skin.

“This feels so good,” he groans. “But I bet your smaller hand would have felt better.”

BabyGurl95: Stroke yourself for me.

“I will,” he says with a deep grunt. “But only if you touch yourself for me too, Baby Girl.”

But you have beat him up to it.

You have slipped your hand through the waistband of your shorts right after you have sent him the last message. Your fingers have reached your folds, ready to part them open so you can slip inside and touch the spot that has been throbbing for him.

BabyGurl95: I have my hands down between my legs. My small fingers are close to slipping into my pussy now.

His smile grows as he reads your message, then his eyes become dark with lust when he reads the next.

BabyGurl95: and you were right. I am wet. You make me so damn wet.

“Fuck,” he groans while steadily stroking himself. “I knew you would be. But you’re being naughty for touching yourself without telling me first.”

BabyGurl95: I’m telling you now, aren’t I?

—you type slowly with one hand, while your fingers slip between your folds, meeting your slick slit and throbbing clit.

BabyGurl95: I’m touching myself. I’m so wet and slick that my fingers can move so easily.

BabyGurl95: I wish they were yours, not my smaller ones.

Jungkook licks his lips. You can tell how his knees are trembling as he continues to stroke his cock. “I wish I could see you, Baby Girl. I’m sure you look so hot doing that—touching yourself for me,” he says, sitting back down on his lazy chair when he cannot take it anymore, when his legs no longer able to support him standing.

His eyes are droopy when he enjoys the pleasure he is giving himself. His chest rises and falls along with his heavy breathing, his deep grunts escaping through his lips each time his palm moves up and down his cock, and you make sure to move your fingers on the same pace as his hand is moving. You circle your fingers around your clit, gasping to the touch before moving your digits to find your opening.

BabyGurl95: That is so hot. Keep on going. I want to watch you cum.

Jungkook chuckles. “Tell me what you are doing right now, Baby Girl,” he says. He has his legs spread apart for you to see clearly as he keeps stroking his cock, the rhythm becoming faster and harder as he speaks. Then he moves the other hand down, cupping his balls when you can tell his body growing tight the closer he is to reach his climax. “Let me think about you as we cum together.”

Your hand is shaking as you slip your fingers through your opening, and you wait until you can move them steadily in and out of your cunt before finally typing carefully—

BabyGurl95: I’m sliding my fingers in and out of my pussy. While thinking about your cock inside me.

Reading your message must have brought up something inside him that you can hear him groaning deeply. “Oh yeah, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” he asks you, grunting as he keeps stroking himself. “Want me inside you? Want to see this cock moving in and out of your pussy instead, Baby Girl?”

BabyGurl95: Yes.

“I want it too,” he says. “But for now, I guess I should give you a show—let you see how hard I can come just by thinking about how you are touching yourself while watching me.”

BabyGurl95: Yes. Cum for me. I’m close.

Jungkook starts moving his hands faster, stroking his cock harder and with a quicker pace while the other hand moves to massage his balls, triggering himself to come closer to his release. You begin to move faster, your fingers sliding in and out of your throbbing walls, pressing deep within you where you know it would be enough to push you to your orgasm as you see him close to erupting.

The tip of his cock is changing colour, reddening as it grows swollen. His breath becomes ragged, though you could hear him cursing between each grunt he makes. Then his head falls back, his hips jolting upwards as he thrusts them into his own hands, and thick white cum comes shooting from his cock with a deep groan slipping out of his parted lips.

The sight of him embracing his release looks so hot, so sexy, that it triggers yours to come right at the same time. With one move of your thumb flicking at your clit right as you press your fingers hard against your sweet spot, your pussy walls clench tight and your orgasm comes in pulsing waves that you have to bite your lips to hold back from screaming.

You can hear his voice, chuckling deeply and breathlessly against your own heavy breathing.

“Look, Baby Girl. I made a mess on myself,” he says, chuckling.

You open your eyes to see him looking down on himself, his eyes are wide as he stares at the cum that had fallen all over him. The taut muscles of his abs are now glowing to the mix of his sweat and the white cum that he is spreading all over his skin with his fingers. You nearly drool at the sight. You were never one to enjoy the taste of cum, but you suddenly wish that you could lick him clean.

And you decide to let him know that.

BabyGurl95: That was so damn hot, Jungkook. You made me cum too. I’ve made a mess in my panties because of you.

BabyGurl95: I wish I could lick you clean.

“That makes it even for us then,” he says, his eyes glowing with lust as he spoke, as if he didn’t just spoil himself while giving you a show.

BabyGurl95: My time is up. I have to go. Thank you for spending the time with me and for giving me a good time.

Jungkook smiles to the screen without making any move to clean himself. “It was nice to have you around, Baby Girl. Come back again next time. Maybe I can have my buddy, Jimin, to join us in our play.”

Oh, that would be interesting, you wonder silently, suddenly feeling excited that you simply cannot wait for it.

BabyGurl95: See you soon.

All Rights Reserved © 2020 Yoonia

[writingismyhappytime]

Escaping Grace

A/N: So I wrote this fanfic over 4 years ago when Blackveilbridesfanfiction.com was still a thing, and there's been a lot change with the band since then. It's one of my first fics to ever write --- actually, it IS THE FIRST fan fiction I ever wrote.I'm going to do some editing to it before it's posted here from its original content since my style is a little different, so it's doubtful there'll be as many chapters, but I still hope you enjoy it! (And please don't judge, I was just a wee babe when I started out. Or judge gently. Well, I actually I judged it pretty hard when reading back through it.)I've rewrote it significantly so much that the plot has changed here and there, as I didn't like the previous at all. It was terrible, I'm going to be honest. I'm going to include in each chapter  references for lyrics used from other bands, as I'm absolutely no musical artist and not clever enough to come up with my own for Escape From Grace to use in their music, so look for that at the end of each posted chapter should it come up.

A sound of immense excitement escapes my lips before I can stop it as I stare at our manager; he's barely made it halfway through his sentence but he has my full attention. I clasp my hands together as I straighten, grinning from ear to ear as I bite my lip.

This is the best news I've ever had. In my entire life.

Well, second best, getting signed on as a band was a pretty big memory to me, and all the people in the room as well. Coming from a nowhere town and being a nobody, working all those bars and gigs trying to get attention --- how we got so lucky, I'm not sure, but I'm thankful. We would still be struggling to make it if it wasn't for our manager, so I'm pretty grateful to him.Even more so now that he just gave this announcement.

I'm so getting him some donuts for our next meeting.

"Well, I'm glad you're taking the news so well," our manager says after a moment with raised brows, and I can feel my cheeks start to heat as everyone looks at me. I give him a sheepish look of apology, leaning back in my chair and trying to contain my excitement.

Still, he had to know I would be excited about this! Sure, we're a signed band, for a record label, but it's still a struggle. Even signed we still have a lot of work to do, and it would be too easy to fall into obscurity or be a one hit wonder, which isn't something that I want. This is going to be the rest of my life, it's what I want more than anything, and I'm not going to let this opportunity slip past me.

We're just getting our footing as a band, trying so hard to break out into a scene already full of so many talented people. Sometimes it's overwhelming and I feel like we've hit a brick wall, like we're never going to climb any higher. No one makes it quick big in this business, I guess, which is another reason why I'm so excited, why this is so important --- it could be our big break!We've been mostly openers for other bands in the last year, with one small tour through a few cities that gave us a lot of publicity, but nothing like this! Per our lovely manager, we're going to be opening for Black Veil Brides on several different occasions on their upcoming tour! They're one of my favorite bands, their songs feature themselves on all my playlists, and the fact we're going to meet them!

Oh, I can't stand it.

Is it suddenly really hot in this room?

I squirm in my seat, chewing my lower lip thoughtfully as Craig continues with the announcement. He was just going over the usual bits, we have a meeting pretty frequently about our lined up gigs and to be on better behavior than the last few. Some, or rather one of us, likes to get tipsy and flirt with fangirls, and despite his occupation as a drummer, still makes the boyfriends fairly upset.

My eyes flick to the blonde drummer not paying any of us a bit of attention, looking at his phone and swiping left or right occasionally. He looks exhausted, black rings under his eyes; I'm surprised he even managed to make the meeting today.

"When's the first show?" Clarke, our bassist, asks, his feet propped in my lap as he leans his chair back, teetering precariously on the back legs. He doesn't seem near as excited as I am about this, but he's never really been that into the type of music that we're playing. He was more into the hardcore, metalish type, which as hard as I might try, my voice just wasn't cut out for. I'm always waiting for the day he's going to drop the bomb that he's ditching us for something more his speed, but I wouldn't blame him.

Take an opportunity where you can get it.

"Three weeks," Craig replies, checking his watch. He's always kind of in a rush when it comes to us, we're not exactly his biggest moneymakers, but I like to think we're not at the bottom either. I mean, it would be nice to actually meet in an official space and not the breakroom of the record label, but I have the feeling maybe Craig doesn't exactly have a ton of pull and probably doesn't have his own office to see us in.

Still, he's been good to us, and I appreciate it. The fluorescent lights above dim a little before getting brighter, reflecting off his shiny bald head. He has thick old man eyebrows that are seriously in need of a trim, and absolutely no facial hair to speak of, which you'd think he'd want to balance out the baldness, but I digress. He's not a thin or tall man, and he has a thing for chunky watches and outdated t-shirts that makes him look like a suburban dad instead of any sort of manager.

"That's coming up pretty quick, don't ya think? We have some stuff already booked, don't we?" Vale looks nervous, shifting in the blue plastic chair beside me. Her gray-painted eyes flick to me, but I give her a bright, reassuring smile she reluctantly returns after a moment. She's my lead guitarist, my backup vocalist, my roommate, and my best friend. She holds many titles very dear to me, in fact. Without her, there's no telling where I would be right now. "And why us, exactly?"

"Well," our manager rubs the back of his neck, clearing his throat and pretending to study the notes jotted down on Subway napkins in front of him. "Another band was going to open for them, but their lead singer has to have his tonsils removed. So, I pulled some favors, and got you guys signed instead!" He grins at us, looking very pleased with himself as he shoots us some obnoxious finger guns.

Vale rolls her eyes as she leans back in her chair, giving him an unimpressed look. She tugs on the end of her long black hair thoughtfully. "Well, you're certainly not letting us fade into obscurity, I'll give you points for that."

Craig looks satisfied with the response.

I glance around the round table we all sit at. Vale to my left who is now focusing on fixing her black eyeliner in a compact, and her brother Clarke where he's casually chatting with Craig as if he's actually interested in the gig. Our drummer, Nate, has finally passed out against the whiteboard behind him, and I'm pretty sure that's a sheen of drool on his chin.

I'm the lead vocalist, the frontperson of our band, and I also play keyboard when it's called for. I've always been close with Clarke and Vale, we grew up together as neighbors. It was their idea to form a band and get out of our old town, and when Nate joined us, it seemed like we might actually have a shot. It still blows my mind that we've made it this far without something breaking us up.

I've never had a lot of good luck, but maybe it's all been building up for this.

"Sooo --- do we get to meet the band beforehand?" I ask Craig, trying not to sound as eager as I feel but probably failing. I wanted to meet them, every single one of them, gawk at them like a fangirl meeting their idol, and wholeheartedly embarrass myself. "Where's the venue? When do the shows start? Are we going to get a bus this time or are you going to make us ride in your minivan again like a gothic soccer mom? Y'know that's not really going to give us the badass impression we're going for."

Vale snorts, biting her lip to hold back a laugh as Craig sighs heavily.

"Just be lucky I had a van to get you all to that show, alright?" He grumbles, but the experience had been mortifying. Just getting started, our actual ride breaks down, and suddenly Craig rolls up in a blue minivan with proud parent stickers on the back glass and yells at us to get in. Never again.

"But yes, you do get to meet the guys beforehand." Craig states, rubbing his jaw. "The lead singer, whathisname, wants to meet you guys before the first show. He's probably going to measure you up and make sure you're up for opening for his band. You guys need to make a good impression," he warns us, as if I'm not already planning on murdering whoever embarrasses us first; only I get to feel humiliated, no one else gets to do it for me!

He glances at Nate where he snoozes, and I know the warning is more for him then anything, but he's sleeping, so it's not really having any effect.

I feel like some tween girl meeting her boyband idol for the first time, being presented with front row tickets to his show. I rub my hands nervously against my thighs, ignoring the dampness my nerves are causing.

I'm the youngest in the band. I've known Vale and Clarke since I was twelve, and without them I doubt I would have made it through my teenage years. Or any years, if I really wanted to admit it to myself. I owed them a lot, more than I could ever pay back, but I'm hoping with our success that'll be enough.

"I heard he was an asshole when Asking Annie opened for them in Vegas." Clarke says, not looking at all thrilled. I frown at him, and shove his legs out of my lap for such a crappy comment. He knows I love that band! He ignores me, letting them drop easily to the floor before straightening in his chair; he better be glad I didn't tip him over!

"To be fair, Alex, their lead singer, is totally dopey and he can only perform while high, so," Vale closes her compact with a snap, the lights glinting off her dark nailpolish. "I would've been an asshole to him too. This is really good for us, guys. This could be it, y'know? None of us are going to screw this up by being rude or listening to rumors. I don't even care if they're true; the publicity this is going to bring us is worth it."

Well, she makes a good point, and Clarke concedes; that or he just decides ignoring his younger sister is better than arguing and just looks away. I'm sure the microwave in the corner has suddenly become much more interesting than the conversation.

I tap a nail against the table thoughtfully, still having a hard time believing this. We're finally getting a big break, with a band that I know at least two of us like, so that's a good thing! I thought earlier I was going to pass out from how hard my heart was beating, how excited I got at the prospect of meeting them.

"Is this not the best news ever?" I sigh as I look at everyone, unable to contain my glee. "Ever? Like seriously? Do you guys know how great this is?"

"Saying it multiple times doesn't make it true," Clarke mumbles, for some reason intent to find a reason to not be as excited as I am. He's always so serious and cautious, ever the distrustful one. Well, I suppose when you're the oldest in a band that you're younger, reckless sister is in, you sort of have to be the adult and the ringleader; hell, I'm the lead singer, but I listen to him and take his advice to heart.

"It'll give you guys a good amount of exposure," Craig states, folding his arms along the laminated tabletop. "Hopefully it'll kickstart some more sales of the new album you're about to drop."

"And Leah will get to meet the object that she lusts so much after," Vale adds with a chuckle.I send her a horrible look, ignoring the heat burning my cheeks; she doesn't have to mention that in front of everyone.

"Really? Which one?" Craig looks amused, and sometimes I get the feeling he sees us more as his kids than business partners. I mean, I think he does have some teenage girls, or boys maybe, I'm not quite sure, so he probably deals with this all the time. Crushes, heartbreak, the need of a minivan for emergencies.

"The lead singer, Andy. It's the voice I think, the deep drawl and that nice hair ---."

"Vale."

Vale giggles, winking at me as she twists the end of her long hair absently. She's enjoying watching me squirm, but really it's no secret. I mean, I wasn't exactly discussing my interests with Craig in that area, but I suppose it doesn't matter now.

Just makes things a little awkward.

"Andy Biersack? Really?" Our manager doesn't look impressed with my choice of crush. "Why am I surprised over this?"

I sink a little in my chair, merely shrugging my shoulders.

Craig just shakes his head before he starts getting to his feet, grabbing his note napkins and folding them together. He's never very organized, but I like to think it's one of his quirky qualities. He tucks the napkins into his shirt pocket, says goodbye to us, and heads for the archway leading to the hall.

One of these days, maybe we'll actually have a meeting room.

"Oh." Craig's head suddenly pops back into the kitchen, holding the end of a torn napkin. "I forgot to mention. You're meeting the love of your life at Club Rehab tomorrow at eight. Don't be late, dress to impress."

"What!?"

Craig suddenly is one, and I stare after him in horror. "Did he just say we were meeting them tomorrow?"

"Mmm." Vale looks thoughtful. "Dress to impress, like don't we always?" she snorts, cutting her eyes at her brother. "Don't be an ass, and yes you're coming. Wake up Nate so we can fill him in."Clarke frowns, glancing at the snoozing drummer, his lips parted as his head lolls back and forth; he's getting marker all in his freshly dyed blonde hair.

"I suppose we don't need to look like losers when we meet them." I mumble as I prop my chin on my hand, watching as Clarke kicks Nate's chair easily with his long legs, causing Nate to wake in a panic, sputtering. He looks around wild-eyed for a few moments before he realizes he's not under attack, then sends Clarke a scowl.

"What was that for!?"

"Rise and shine, Snow White. You slept through the meeting but we have news."

"I wasn't asleep," Nate mutters, wiping at his lips with the back of his hand, blue eyes bloodshot. "I didn't miss anything."

"Were you out late again partying?" Vale looks annoyed with him, her full lips drawing into a frown. She's one of the prettiest people I've ever met, I sort of envy how she always looks so put together and confident. She's tall, but the right kind of tall that's not too tall, and slim, able to wear whatever she wants and she never has problems finding her clothes in the store.I'm much shorter, and I might as well shop in the toddler section to find jeans that aren't too long for me.

"No," our drummer retorts, running his hands down his face. Yeah, sure bud, those black circles under your eyes say something different. Nate was a partier, he was even before he joined us, we knew that. He knew all the best places to have a good time, and I'm fairly sure he doesn't usually get out of bed until noon or he has to meet us. Sometimes you could still smell the cheap perfume and booze off the wrinkled shirt he doesn't change. I like him well enough, but some people shouldn't have fame or too much money, it isn't such a good thing.

Be famous responsibly.

Clarke quickly explains what Nate's missed during his impromptu nap, and our drummers eyes light up. He likes the other bands drummer, admires his techniques, and even his sleepy head knows this is a big deal for us.

Momentous, really.

"When do we meet them?" he asks eagerly, rubbing his arm.

"Tomorrow, and don't come smelling like a bar." Vale replies, staring him down beneath thick black lashes; she has a fierce glare, I'll give her that. She gets to her feet, stretching her arms in front of her. She nudges her chair under the table, and we all sort of follow suit as we get to our feet. Nate mocks her slightly before taking a sniff of himself, only to grimace.

Everything is going to go great tomorrow, that's what I'm going to keep telling myself. We're going to make a fantastic impression, we'll be charming and humorous and they'll want us to open every show! Or, actually, we'll be so famous they'll be opening for us by the time it's over with.

I can dream.

Just.... oh my god.

What exactly am I going to wear?

I look at Vale in utter panic. She could wear a paper bag and look fantastic, but it's not that easy for me.

What if I go in there wearing something horribly mismatched, or that doesn't work at all? What if I look like some Avril Lavigne, pop princess rip off and they don't want us opening? I could say something stupid, insult one of them accidentally, what do we even know about them?

"Why are you making that face?" Nate asks warily as we step out into the hall together. "If you're gonna be sick, aim that way."

"I'm just thinking about tomorrow, don't be a dick." I wait for Vale to catch up with me, seeing she's focused on her phone. "Vale?"

"Mmm?"

"We need to go shopping."

"Shopping?" She sends me an amused look as we fall into step, the worn carpet of the hallway pillowing our footsteps. "Why?"

"Because we need to find something to wear tomorrow."

"You realize whatever you buy you won't wear, and you'll have buyers remorse like you do every time."

"Vale." Now she's starting to stress me!

"Oh, fine, don't freak out. We'll go after we grab some lunch, find something to aww the boys with." she looks amused, and her arm twines with me as we walk. "But don't worry so much, it's just another business meeting. Think of it more like that."

"Is that how you think about every meeting we have?"

"Well, no, I imagine Craig in his underwear and it sort of ruins any intimidation I might feel."

"Well that's a mental image I didn't need."

Vale grins down at me, squeezing my arm as we reach the front desk and give the harried looking secretary a smile as we leave.

I'm worried about tomorrow, but I do tend to worry and be anxious about everything. I might be excited now, but tomorrow I know I'll be an explosion of nerves.I just want everything to go well so badly.

[hyena-frog]

Pax was such a treasure in Dark Age! My precious sassy baby! I love that he is his own person while being also his parents' son. Gotta say, after Lysander's 'i've been riding horses all my life' and his nod at Darrow's acrobatics - because he developped those in the mines (congrats, Pixie, you have class privilege, boo hoo), it suddenly downed on me: Pax's main hobby is tinkering, but I bet he also grew up riding horses and learning dancing. What do you think?

Pax!! I love that kid ❤️ He had some great development in Dark Age and I loved seeing it from Ephraim’s POV. He knew Pax was extraordinary in the way all Golds naturally are but he also saw him as just a normal kid. It was heartwarming. Even when he encouraged Pax to smoke a burner. I’m glad Ephraim was there for Pax to vent some normal pre-teen angst about his complicated feelings toward his father.

Pulling off the “next generation” is difficult for any writer but I think Pierce Brown did an excellent job with Pax. As Virginia said, he has her patience and his father’s anger but he is also his own person.

He’s naturally curious and like any well-rounded character, that curiosity shows itself in both positive and negative ways.

Positive: He’s a tinkerer; he was ready to try and patent one of his trinkets before he was kidnapped-- at 11 years old! He’s an amazing pilot-- I’d like to know if he only did sims before killing a torchShip or if he’s actually been behind the wheel before? With his parents it could go either way. He reads top secret documents, seemingly for fun, and cross-references latently, his own words, making him quite prescient when it comes to obscurities like Lyria’s parasite. He’s like a tiny walking Wikipedia for specific knowledge.

Negative: He’s a know-it-all. Comes with the Augustus territory. He hasn’t quite learned when to tone it down yet. Sometimes he misses social cues. Like when he started correcting Volga and Lyria in how to properly return Victra’s oath, before Electra got him to shut up. His proactiveness in helping his mother, while usually helpful, ended up backfiring by sending Ephraim back to Olympia. Not much intel was gained from that (Volsung’s connection with Atlas and the true Ascomanni died with Ephraim) and he lost Volga’s trust. That will haunt him for sure. Poor kid.

Unlike Lysander, or the Abomination, I think Pax is a better example of a “chosen one” or “living legend.” He doesn’t covet the position nor think he’s owed. In fact, he seemed hesitant to start his own legend after killing the torchShip, but as Ephraim said, he knew it was inevitable because of who his parents are and how the people view Pax’s existence as physical proof of his parents’ promises. So while he hesitated, he also stepped into his new reality without having to lean on Ephraim for comfort. He’s very self-aware, unlike the other next generation “chosen one” characters in Dark Age. And unlike the other two, he has a huge support group that loves him and will help guide him when he needs it.

I don’t know where else to put this but: I loved when he and Electra said they were fed up with the adults messing everything up and it was their turn to fix things. You go, kids. Dark Age was all about the adults infighting on both sides of the war so hearing that was quite cathartic.

As for your last question: Yes, I think Pax absolutely learned both horse-riding and dancing. One is an Extremely Gold Activity and one is an Extremely Red Activity. Pax’s two halves. Even if his father wasn’t there a lot to teach him to dance, I bet Deanna, Kieran, and even Dancer made sure to teach him some Red dances.

I would love it if Darrow and Pax had a nice bonding scene where Darrow gets to teach his son some moves. I want them to mend their emotional distance so badly. I think dancing would be a perfect way to start down that road. Not only would Pax get to learn more about both his father and his Red heritage, it would be cathartic for Darrow, who, in Dark Age, said he feels he doesn’t belong among his own people anymore. And I bet Pax also feels at odds with both halves of his heritage. So I think it would be nice if they both came to understand that they both feel that particular type of loneliness and bond over it.

In conclusion: Pax is the most radical 11-year-old you’ll ever meet. You wish you were as cool as him.

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya Chapter 6: Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

“The Grand Ballroom” was certainly an apt description. The marble dancefloor was inlaid with veins of gold and sparkling quartz, its flat surface so polished it hurt to look at. Plush, wine red carpet lined the perimeter, perfectly matching the cushions of elaborately carved loveseats and couches. Six-foot tall, solid gold candelabras were scattered throughout the room, the flickering flames dancing as gracefully as the guests. Enormous, stained-glass windows depicting hedonistic scenes stretched from floor to ceiling, the colored glass obscuring the view of the outside world. Burgundy velvet drapes trimmed in gold were artfully hung throughout the room, their heavy material casting deep shadows in private nooks perfect for illicit rendezvous.

To the side was a massive buffet, the tables straining under trays of assorted meats, exotic fruits, decadent pastries, tartlets, brie, beef wellingtons, deviled eggs, and more. A literal fountain of wine stood at the center of the smorgasbord, cherubs pouring the intoxicating liquid out of decanters into the guests’ crystal glasses.

The ceiling was the most impressive aspect, though. Above the crowd hung eight massive, golden chandeliers in the shape of octopi, each winding tentacle clutching a light the size of a human head. Multi-faceted crystals dripped off their bulbous bodies like drops of water, making it appear they’d just emerged from the sea and casting shards of light and prismatic rainbows dancing about the walls and floor.

Not to be outdone, the guests that milled about wore their finest costumes, with ballgowns, doublets, tailcoats, hats, capes, masks, and jewelry made from silks, satins, chiffon, precious gems, and exotic furs and feathers. Maids clad in short, tight, copper uniforms wove through the crowd, offering drinks, hors d’oeuvres, and petit fours. A small orchestra was set up in the far corner of the room, filling the air with their slow, elegant music.

It was exactly the kind of party that had Nami salivating. Rich men with thick wallets and wealthy women wearing expensive jewelry were laid out more temptingly than the food.

Still, the décor did bring up a few questions. “If the Baron hates seafood so much, why all the octopi?” she asked curiously, studying the ceiling.

Behind the mask, Law looked thoughtful. “I’d assume it’s a vanity thing; according to my intel, he was touted as ‘The Golden Octopus’ during his time in the Navy.”

“Why?”

“Probably a reference to the number of organizations he was involved in, though there were also rumors about him having an octopus-related Devil Fruit. That seems unlikely, though.”

“What makes you say that?”

“No Devil Fruit user would keep his important files in a Seastone safe. Just touching the damn thing would drain his energy. Besides, don’t you think the World Government would have made that common knowledge to strike fear into pirates? They’ve never exactly been shy about bragging about their officers’ powers.”

Nervously checking her cat mask to ensure it was tightly secured, she said lowly, “You’d better be right; if it turns out he can turn into an octopus or something I’m charging you for shitty intel.”

Casually, the pair meandered through the crowd, giving polite greetings and sizing up potential prey. The Cat Thief had already picked out a few marks; men who’d cast her salacious leers, despite her being on another’s arm. They’d be easily distracted by her cleavage and flattery and wouldn’t even notice their pockets getting progressively lighter. Even better, Law’s presence would also give her the ideal excuse to turn down their inevitable, unwanted advances. Nothing fended off creeps like a jealous boyfriend, after all, and in high society, you never wanted to risk causing a scene. She’d just have to make sure he knew when to step in.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Law murmured in her ear, “I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight, so if you need me, adjust your hairpins and I’ll come to your rescue.”

“‘Rescue’ is a strong word, but I appreciate it,” she responded, tone dripping with false affection as she straightened his lapels, acting as the ever-attentive beau. “Tell me, Adrian, are you the type to tolerate other men flirting with your girlfriend?”

“Of course not. What’s mine is mine, and men challenge that claim at their own peril.” His reply was smooth as polished obsidian, one hand possessively resting on her waist as he steered them over to the side of the dance floor. The thick leather of the black glove shielded her from the heat of his palm, but the weight and press of his fingers into her delicate flesh made up for it.

Teasingly, she tapped the tip of his beak. “That doesn’t sound very doctor-like. Isn’t there a Hippocratic Oath you’re supposed to be following?”

“There are exceptions to every rule.” Long fingers gently lifted her chin so he could gaze deeply into her eyes. “There’s no oath I wouldn’t break to keep my woman at my side.”

Damn, that line should not be so hot, she thought, the faint blush painting her cheeks visible just beneath the bottom of her mask. It was surprising how easily Law managed to turn on the charm and hide the far creepier meaning of his words. If she were an average woman with no knowledge of his criminal activities or identity as one of the most feared up-and-coming pirates of the current generation, she might swoon a little bit.

Nami really needed more practice dealing with handsome men flirting with her. She was far too used to friendly, harmless perverts like Brook and Sanji, or disgusting lechers like Absalom. Besides being physically attractive, Law’s flirtations were harder to brush off because she completely believed him when he said he was pickier about his women than the rest of his crew. Perhaps that was why he got her so flustered; he didn’t wear his desires on his sleeve, so his attention felt more…focused, like sunlight through a magnifying glass, burning away her defenses.

“And what about you?” he coaxed, lifting her hand to delicately press the tips of her fingers to his lips as his eyes bore into hers. Electric shocks tingled up her hand as heat coiled within her belly. It was way too easy to imagine him giving her that look in a dark bedroom as he slowly stripped off her clothes. “Are you the type to play with a man’s heart? The type to stray? Or are you just so naturally charming you don’t realize the kind of thoughts you put in men’s minds?”

It took her a moment to realize he was asking for the sake of the cover; to establish his reaction when he barged in on her flirtations with other men.

His interest and sensual actions were solely for the sake of the cover. For business, not pleasure. None of it was real, and she grasped that fact like a lifeline. It was so much easier to remain in control if she remembered that it wasn’t Law that was flirting with her, but Dr. Goodheart Adrian, Chaton Bellemere’s surgeon lover. Hell, he was wearing a mask—she could easily pretend that he wasn’t her dangerously attractive temporary captain, but another mark she could tease and deceive with no consequences.

Lips quirking in a saucy, mischievous grin, she leaned in close, breath ghosting across his throat as she replied, “I’d never cheat, but I am the kind of woman who likes to see if she can get her boyfriend jealous. There’s something so arousing about seeing such a normally composed doctor so worked up over little old me.”

Her response made Law pause, blinking owlishly in surprise before his grip on her hand tightened ever-so-slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “How jealous do you want?” he rasped, giving the pad of her middle finger a light nip. “I’m happy to break a few jaws before I carry you off.”

A tiny hiss of pleasure escaped between her teeth before she regained control. Pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his sharp jaw, just below his ear, she murmured, “I’m sure these men don’t want any trouble; just come up with an excuse to lead me away. A little decorum goes a long way, after all.”

She’d planned on flouncing away and getting to work mingling and stealing, but her whole body froze as she caught a familiar scent.

Tobacco smoke, thick and sweet wafted up her nose, and as her heart stuttered in her chest, Nami slowly turned her head to the side, following the grey trail to a large, imposing figure glowering at the crowd as if he’d like to arrest half the people in the room. His formal suit was as white as his hair, his forest green tie and matching domino mask the only pop of color. With the long scar down his face and signature cigar, the mask did nothing to hide his identity.

“What the hell is he doing here?” she squeaked, panicked and already trying to figure out the best way to escape.

“Hina, what the fuck am I doing here?!” Smoker growled, not bothering to keep his voice down.

Beside him, a beautiful woman with long, sakura pink hair and a cigarette dangling from her full, red lips sighed. She was dressed in a stunning, form-fitting silver gown embroidered with fluttering blackbirds, the silk flowing down her figure like mercury. Her mask, also silver but with a black feathered plume, hung absently from her fingers. “Because you owe me. After all the strings I’ve pulled over the years to keep you from getting demoted back down to Chore Boy, this is the least you can do.”

“Look, Hina, I know I owe you, but you could have asked me to do your paperwork for a month or something. Fancy crap with stuffed shirts isn’t my thing, especially when it means playing nice with that bastard. Why couldn’t you take someone Fullbody or Django? They’d be happy to shower you with attention and ask you to waltz and that other gentlemanly shit.”

Shoulders tense as she carefully observed the crowd, she stated, “Precisely because this isn’t your thing. I need you to stand next to me looking grumpy and miserable to keep stupid ass-kissers and perverted old octopi from asking me to dance. Hina hates that old creep.”

Though his teeth ground against his cigar, the corner of his mouth lifted into the barest hint of a smile. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess I am the perfect man for the job.”

“Did you know they were going to be here?” Nami asked under her breath, pressing close to her partner. Smoker was only about fifteen feet away, but the din of the crowd and orchestral music helped mask her voice. Her every instinct screamed for her to run, but she knew any sudden movement around the pirate hunter would capture his undivided attention, like a rabbit trying to escape a wolf. Inwardly, she seethed; if Uni had managed to modify the guest list, surely he would have known a certain Marine was coming, right? Why didn’t anyone warn her? Everybody knew there was nothing Smoker would like better than to capture and imprison the Straw Hats.

Her anger ebbed slightly as Law pulled her a bit closer, doing his best to shield her with his body. Though his poker face was still in place, she could feel the tension coiled in his muscles. “I knew Black Cage was invited, but her RSVP was a ‘no.’ I’d assumed she was cleaning up the mess of the war or helping track down the prisoners Mugiwara released from Impel Down. White Chase was definitely not on the guest list.”

“What do we do?”

“Keep calm. It’s a big party, and it shouldn’t be too hard to avoid them. Even if they notice us, our disguises should allay suspicion, and there’s no way they’d expect the two of us together.”

He was right; even if they did somehow recognize Law, they’d never expect the navigator of a rival crew on his arm, meaning she might be able to make a break for it. She wasn’t too worried about his safety; he was a strong fighter and could teleport himself to the other side of the island in a heartbeat. She was the one who would be screwed if she caught a Marine’s eye.

Surreptitiously, Nami peeked around Law’s chest to watch the pair, hoping for some sign they’d move on to another part of the ballroom, but soon found herself staring at the beautiful captain. Bad as her experiences with the World Government were, she couldn’t help but admire a strong Marine woman. And though the hairstyle was different, the color and cigarette briefly brought visions of her adoptive mother, and she wondered if Hina had heard of Bellemere. There weren’t too many female officers in the Marines; had she been renowned enough for someone like Hina to look up to? Or was her decision to give up military life to raise two orphaned girls treated as a disgrace? The Navy hadn’t offered any financial assistance or seemed to care when she’d been murdered by pirates, so the latter seemed more likely.

Of course, a trained soldier would sense she was being watched, and Hina inclined her head towards the incognito couple. “You’ve been staring at me. Why?” she asked suspiciously, taking a long drag of her cigarette as her dark eyes narrowed.

Luckily, years of swindling, being a member of Arlong’s crew, and generally always needing to get herself out of trouble had made Nami a pretty good actress, even under pressure. “I was just admiring your dress. It’s absolutely gorgeous!” she gushed, making her voice as airheaded and overexcited as she could under the Marine’s scrutiny. “Wherever did you get it?”

Apparently, her ruse worked, as she gave a small but pleased smile. “Thank you. There’s a shop in Alabasta that carries beautiful silks. I stumbled across it while on a mission and decided to treat myself. When I learned I’d be attending this…party, a dressmaker on Sabaody made them into a custom gown for me.”

“Alabasta! How exotic! Oh, darling, can we go there on our next holiday?” she asked, looking up at Law, wide brown eyes begging him to play along. “I simply must have a dress like that!”

Catching on, the doctor once more pulled her close, dropping a kiss to her hair. “If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. Nothing’s too good for you, sweetheart.”

She gave him a dazzling grin, wrapping her arms around his waist in an enthusiastic hug. “Really?! Oh, thank you, cuddle bear!”

Internally, Nami cheered in victory as his jaw tightened and blue tint came to his cheeks. She might not get to kick his ass, but she could still make his night hell in all the little ways. “You’re…welcome,” he ground out.

“Hina-chan!” a loud, overly cheerful voice called out from the crowd, and an older, obese man strode over. His tuxedo was gold silk and embroidered with scarlet octopi, a long, crimson cape trailing behind him. His grey hair was thin, braided into eight little rattails, and slicked back with so much oil it gleamed like grease on the water. A gold octopus mask hung from his neck, the tentacles a writhing mass and encrusted with rubies for suckers. “How marvelous! You were able to make it after all!”

Both Marines noticeably stiffened at his approach. “Well, after your call, my superiors were convinced that attending your party was more important than attending to my duties,” she said, tone so frosty it made Drum Island seem like a tropical paradise.

“Oh, don’t be that way, Hina-chan,” Baron Harpin chuckled, giving her an appreciative leer. The way the captain tensed further made it clear the feeling wasn’t mutual. “Always so serious, even back when you were a trainee. Really, you should be grateful I pushed so hard to get you a night off—it pains me to think of such a beautiful flower wilting on the battlefield. I swear I’ll never forgive Sengoku for denying my request to have you as my personal secretary.”

“Hina’s too damn good a soldier to waste on some pathetic desk job,” Smoker’s deep, rough voice cut in, muscular arms crossed tightly over his massive chest. “And she ain’t wilting—she thrives out there.”

The Baron regarded him with undisguised disdain. “I don’t recall inviting you.”

“I’m Hina’s plus-one, or did you not notice that on the RSVP? Pretty sloppy for the head of Navy Intelligence. Sorry—ex-head of Navy Intelligence.”

The pirate hunter’s biting comment struck a nerve, as disregard turned into outright hatred. “Careful, Smoker; I may be retired, but I’ve still got plenty of pull with the Admirals, plus several other organizations. One word from me and your career is over.”

A threatening step forward was all Smoker was able to take before Hina held him back. “He’s not worth it,” she murmured before insistently leading him away.

“Just one moment, Hina-chan,” their host sing-songed. When the woman in question acknowledged him over her shoulder, he gave a haughty grin. “I know I permitted you a plus-one, but that’s because I’d assumed you’d bring along someone with more…class. I surround myself with only the finest things, after all. I’m rather inclined to have him escorted out for the sake of my invited guests; trash like him tends to ruin the ambiance.”

Turning fully towards him, though still keeping a restraining hand on Smoker’s bicep, she stated, “What do you want?”

His returning leer was as greasy as his hair. “A smile. Surely such a rare and radiant thing will counteract your…date’s foul appearance.”

“Oh, that fuckin—” Smoker growled, but Hina’s silent glare stopped him. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, the Marine captain plastered on a bland, completely hollow smile for their former superior before dragging her old friend out to the gardens to smoke in peace.

“Be sure to save me a dance, Hina-chan!” he called after them, entirely too gleeful to have the last word. As he beamed at his guests, his black, watery eyes fell on Nami, and she swore she could feel his gaze creep over her like a writhing mass of tentacles.

Not wanting to hang around lest Harpin decided to come over and introduce himself, she gave Law’s elbow a slight tug, and he willingly let her lead him away towards one of the little alcoves. “Well, he seems…yeah, he’s a total creep.”

“I feel like I need a chemical shower just being in his presence,” Law conferred lowly, grabbing them both a glass of champagne before ducking behind the curtains. The drapes mostly hid them from view, but he strategically positioned himself so his shoulder blocked the slight gap in the heavy velvet, yet still allowed him to notice anyone approaching. “Pity Black Cage didn’t deck him in the jaw.”

“I was hoping Smoker would make him eat his own mask.” She swiftly changed the subject, unwilling to risk one of their fellow guests overhearing them badmouth their host. “I was not expecting those two. I mean, not just here—do you think they’re dating?”

Law rubbed his chin in consideration. “I hope not. Any progeny they might produce would be an absolute nightmare to pirates the world over. The tobacco industry would be thrilled, though.”

Unbidden, a giggle escaped her as an image of a tiny Marine with Smoker’s scowl and Hina’s pink hair popped into her head, an oversized cigar comically protruding from the child’s mouth.

“Of course, that’s assuming they don’t both die of lung cancer before then,” he added absently, sipping his drink. Grey eyes swept the room over his shoulder, noting that most of the guests had the tact to look away from the alcoves, especially those occupied by couples engaged in private moments. A long arm wrapped around Nami’s tiny waist, pulling the gorgeous woman against his hip so he could murmur in her ear, “But enough about that. What else should I know about my lovely Bellemere? How did we meet?”

Playing along, she ran the tips of her fingers along his chest beneath his jacket. They should have discussed this earlier, but in the craziness of the mission prep, it had fallen by the wayside. “At an auction, of course,” she supplied easily. “There was a wonderful mermaid piece that I had taken an interest in.”

A low chuckle caressed her as he wound a lock of purple hair around his finger. The easiest lies to keep up were ones based on truth, and there was no hiding his amusement at how she’d spun the debacle at Sabaody. “Of course. You and your companions got separated, and I graciously offered to keep you company until you could be reunited. Not long after, I performed life-saving surgery on your friend, and you’ve been at my side ever since.”

His arrogant tone made her roll her eyes. “Does Dr. Goodheart have any notable achievements to his name? I can’t imagine I’d be interested in a mediocre doctor, and you must have gotten your medical license somewhere.”

“Gotten a what now?”

When she stared at him in open horror, jaw dropping to the floor, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “I reattached a girl’s leg during my first year at Serenity Hospital in the North Blue,” he stated with a grin. “I was accepted into med school at fifteen and finished my surgical residency in only three years, and I also have several published papers on the effects of lead poisoning in children.”

“Really?” she replied, skepticism dripping from her lips.

“Of course. I could only learn so much through books and practicing on my friends, so I took on the identity of Goodheart Adrian so I could perfect my skills. ‘Trafalgar Law’ was a name I didn’t want gaining notoriety until I had the power and skills to protect myself.”

Well, that was quite the revelation. Frankly, she’d always figured he was only a doctor in the back-alley sense, since no hospital would be crazy enough to give him an actual license. But to have had a second identity for so long…

“Why?”

Grey eyes narrowed behind his mask at her inquiry. “Focus on questions relevant to our current situation, sweetheart.”

Cheeks puffed out indignantly, she let the topic drop, mostly out of irritation that he was right. Besides, she didn’t want to get to know the real Law, did she? “Fine. Where’d you take me on our first date? I’m sure a doctor’s salary could afford a fancy dinner, at least.”

As if a switch had been flipped, his charming persona returned. She knew it was all for show, especially given how the alcove didn’t completely hide them if someone really felt like being a voyeur, but did he have to rub those distracting little circles against her spine? “Since you have such expensive tastes, we went to the En L’iar Rose restaurant on Chardonnay Island. It’s known for its exquisite wines and decadent foods. You ordered the Pane Caldo while I had the stuffed mushrooms, and we shared a plate of assorted artisan cheeses, fruits, and chocolates for dessert.”

“That’s…an acceptable choice, I suppose.” A small, irrational coil of envy tightened in her belly. She wasn’t mad that Law had probably taken some other woman on such a romantic outing—just that no guy had put that much effort into a date with her.

His smirk was decidedly wicked. “You were such a tease with that fruit, eating it so seductively I nearly lost my mind. It took all my willpower not to pin you down and have my way with you.”

Memories of how she’d teased him with the mikans made her thighs clench, as she was suddenly all too aware that she’d been playing with fire that day. He’d definitely enjoyed her attentions and it so easily could have been turned on her. The tips of her ears turned pink as she instinctively tried to push him away, but his muscular arm kept her anchored to his side. “Too bad I’m a classy lady who doesn’t just give it up to a guy because he bought her a fancy dinner,” she snapped quietly.

“Of course you’re not; I wouldn’t have taken interest in you if you were,” he assured, tilting her face to the right and pressing a kiss to her masked cheek to hide her pissed expression. “I’m a man who likes a challenge—a woman easily seduced would bore me. And it’s intriguing how you���re so flirtatious one moment, yet easily flustered the next; makes me wonder what you’ll be like once I finally do get you in my bed.”

Face flushing to match her ears, Nami wasn’t sure if it was due to anger or embarrassment. She also wasn’t sure if he was speaking as Adrian or Law, and it was playing havoc with her sense of control. “Well, you’ll be wondering for quite some time—at the very least until you’ve gotten me a 300-carat diamond.”

A low chuckle rumbled deep in his chest as he released her. “I think we’ve got enough of the basics down to pass as a new couple. Ready to get to work?”

It took a moment and a few deep breaths to regain her composure. Her heart was beating too quickly for her liking, and she desperately needed some distance. “Hell yes. Time is money, and right now, I don’t have nearly enough of either.”

XXX

Over an hour later, Nami was immensely pleased with her haul. She’d swiped the wallets of six dance partners, along with a gold wristwatch, emerald-studded cufflinks, and some rings. She’d been extremely careful not to steal more than one thing from each target, and plenty of her dance partners had left unscathed; after all, if every man she came in contact with found their wallets missing, she’d be the prime suspect.

Finding dance partners and wealthy marks alike had been easier than getting Sanji to bring her tea. Men had practically swarmed her the moment she’d broken away from Law, and though she could feel his piercing gaze on her back, he stayed out of her way so she could work her magic.

So far, he’d only had to step in once, when a man with a face like a horse and a unicorn mask to match had gotten a little too handsy, swooping in like a bird of prey and sending her victim scurrying off with nothing more than a sharp glare and a couple cutting remarks. Still, the way he’d clutched his cane told her he’d wanted to do a lot more, reminding her that the Surgeon of Death was not a man to be messed with. While a jealous boyfriend was a great creep deterrent, too much could put off her potential marks. For the sake of that evening’s profits, she vowed to only call him in as a last resort.

She would swear until her dying breath it had nothing to do with the thrill she got at hearing Law defend her honor in his deep voice or the way she could feel the muscles beneath his suit flex when he clutched her to him possessively.

It was nearly nine-thirty when a skinny man in an elaborate peacock mask and flamboyant suit to match lead her onto the dancefloor. He’d approached swinging an emerald and sapphire-encrusted pocket watch like a pendulum, strutting about in a way that instantly practically begged her to rob him. Only men with more money than brains walked like that.

“So, Ms. Chaton,” Kujakumaru began as he pulled her close, “what do you do for a living?”

As easily as Zoro drew a sword, she turned on the charm. “Oh, I’ve done a little modeling,” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes. “Mostly swimsuits and the like.”

“Really? You?”

She blinked, brows furrowing behind her mask in confusion and mild annoyance. “Yes. Not in any big magazines, but I’ve only just started, after all.”

“Ah, no wonder I hadn’t heard of you,” he stated, looking her up and down, eyes lingering on the swell of her chest. “I’ve dated quite a few models, actually. I suppose when you surround yourself with the most gorgeous women in the world, you don’t notice those who are less than a perfect ten.”

An annoyed tic formed on her forehead, thankfully hidden by the cat mask. Sure, he couldn’t see her face, but the way his eyes were practically glued to her cleavage proved he didn’t find her hideous. And what right did he have to call her less than a ten? Her bounty poster was ogled by pirates all over the Grand Line! “Well, sorry I’m not up to your usual standards, Mr. Kujakumaru,” she ground out as politely as she could.

At the brief display of temper, he quickly backtracked, “Oh, I never said that! Of course you’re beautiful, but I’d only rank you less than a ten because you’ve still got a few more years to go before you’ve fully bloomed!” he insisted, gaze flickering between her face and breasts pointedly.

Oh, nice save, she thought sarcastically. It was all too easy to catch onto this idiot’s game; he was trying to bring down her confidence in hopes preying on any insecurities. Women who knew their worth were much harder to lure into bed, after all. “Well, my boyfriend hasn’t had any complaints,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“I’m sure he hasn’t; after all, looks aren’t everything.” When her hazelnut eyes narrowed, he continued, “You misunderstand me; I mean that modeling is just as much about who you know as what you look like. Making friends with the right people and whatnot.”

“Of course.” It was almost funny; the whole night, she’d put up with men looking to get into her pants without so much as blinking, yet this guy was making her lose her cool. Then again, none of the others had tried negging her. People like that deserved a very special place in hell as far as she was concerned. If they’d been in a bar instead of some fancy party, he’d be unconscious on the floor for his comments.

“If you really want to be a model, I have some connections to the West Blue’s top agencies. Of course, I only pass along the names of people I’m personally close to.”

Though she plastered on a smile, inwardly she rolled her eyes. He was the third man that night offering to help her “modeling career” with his “connections,” but they’d at least done their best to stroke her ego first. He hadn’t even waited for her response before slipping his hand off her waist to slide across her rear.

That little grope just cost him eighty million belli, she thought, using his moment of distraction to carefully undo the chain of his pocket watch from his doublet. To disguise the action, she pushed him back slightly, looking away coyly. “Oh, that’s so sweet of you! Unfortunately, it’s more of a hobby than anything else; if I became some big star, I wouldn’t have as much freedom. I love traveling and shopping too much to waste my time in some studio.”

“Sounds like an expensive lifestyle,” he pressed, undeterred by her refusal, just like she’d anticipated. Nami was plenty familiar with men like him; born with a silver spoon in his mouth, raised to believe that he was entitled to anything he wanted and when a woman rebuffed him, she didn’t really mean it.

He was the kind of guy she would love to have Sanji kick into the sun.

Lacking the chivalrous love-cook, however, Nami settled for her current bodyguard. “It is, but Dr. Goodheart has been an excellent provider. His research takes him to so many interesting places, and he’s been adamant about bringing me along. He gets lonely without me.”

“Then I’m surprised he’s letting you dance with another man.”

A mischievous smirk touched the corner of her lips. “We have an arrangement—he doesn’t like to dance, but I simply can’t get enough of it. So, he lets me have as many partners as I please, so long as I never dance with anyone more than once.” As the last notes of the waltz floated through the air, she knew now was the time to make her getaway. Pushing up onto her tip-toes, she murmured in his ear as she carefully lifted the watch from his pocket, slipping it into the tight cuff of her billowy sleeve, “Otherwise, he gets terribly jealous. Normally, he’s so cool and collected, but he’s got a dark temper. It’s hot, if I’m perfectly honest.”

She felt Kujakumaru shudder against her as her hot breath caressed his skin. “Is dancing the only thing he gets jealous about?” he croaked, staring at her with obvious desire, hands impotently grasping at empty air as she stepped out of his reach. “Perhaps we could find a nice, quiet corner and continue our discussion about your modeling career; a beauty like you deserves to be shared, not hoarded away for one man to enjoy.”

Relieved that she could finally turn around and roll her eyes, she strolled towards the wine fountain, calling back over her shoulder, “I appreciate the thought, but I really must get back to Adrian.”

She halted as a thin, sweaty hand wrapped around her wrist. “At a party like this, a man’s never lonely for long. I’m sure he’s found some pretty young thing to keep him company, so why not do the same for me?”

Lifting up her free arm, she allowed the cold metal of the stolen watch to slide down her sleeve into her bodice, grateful that he’d grabbed her left wrist. It would have been disastrous if he’d stumbled upon the payment she’d taken for putting up with his bullshit. Absently, she played with the shimmering barrettes in her hair, making sure they caught the light like an emergency beacon. Surely Law would be there any moment; this was definitely serious enough to get him involved. “Adrian’s quite adamant that I’m the only woman for him, so I doubt it. And if a man’s not lonely for long, I’m sure you’ll find yourself in pleasant enough company soon enough.”

“I want your company. Your little boyfriend can wait until I’m finished with you.”

“He’s hardly ‘little.’”

“He must be if he can’t satisfy a woman as obsessed with ‘dancing’ as you. In fact, how about I invite a few friends to join us?’ You said he doesn’t care how many ‘dance partners’ you have, right?”

Brown eyes darted about nervously, desperately trying to catch sight of her raven companion. She was certain she’d left him by the window next to the fountain, so he should have been at her side already. What, had he wandered off to take a leak? If he didn’t show himself in the next five seconds, she was going to have to do something drastic, like pluck the peacock’s feathers herself.

“What was that you were saying about him not looking at other women?” Kujakumaru crowed, roughly turning her towards the dancefloor.

Her jaw dropped. His height made him easy to spot on the dancefloor, casually leading Black Cage Hina in a foxtrot.

That absolute bastard! Nami thought, rage bubbling up inside of her. He abandoned his partner to deal with some clingy creep so he could dance with a Marine? Was he trying to get them caught?!

“Well, since your boyfriend is otherwise occupied,” the man beside her sniggered, pulling her against him, “what say you and I go someplace private—”

The hard point of a cane slammed into his foot, causing him to yelp ungracefully and release Nami from his clutches. Gratefully, she turned to her liberator, hoping Law had abandoned Hina to finally come save her, only to find herself face-to-face with a rotund, yet rather elegant-looking gentleman dressed as a knight, complete with silver shoulder pads, royal blue cape, and plumed helmet. The faceplate was up to reveal piercing black eyes and a disapproving frown made even more exaggerated by his bushy grey mustache.

“I believe this young lady made it quite clear that your time with her is over, nephew,” he said sternly.

Kujakumaru looked like he wanted to argue, but when he reached for Nami again, the knight brandished his cane like a sword. “Oh, please, do try. Beatrix may spoil you rotten, but I’m certainly not above turning you over my knee right here and now.”

That threat was all it took to send the peacock flying off into the crowd, managing nothing more than, “I’m telling mother!” over his shoulder before he disappeared.

Relieved to finally be free of such sweaty clutches, the Cat Thief studied her wrist to ensure no perspiration had leaked into the luxurious fabric of her sleeve. A handkerchief entered her field of vision, and she smiled thankfully.

“So, did you pick your costume intending to go about rescuing young ladies, or was that just a happy accident?” she asked, wiping off her hand.

He savior’s hard frown morphed into a smile as he offered her his arm. “I had hoped such services would be unnecessary, but it never hurts to come prepared, especially with my family is involved. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

She allowed him to lead her away from the whispering crowd. If she gathered too much attention, it’d be harder for her to sneak away once the plan was in motion, and until Law finished his little dance with Hina, she’d rather not risk being confronted by more creeps who couldn’t take a hint.

Her natural suspicion only briefly entertained the thought that her hero could turn out to be just as bad. Whether it was his protective aura or his mustache, he reminded her of Genzo, and that would always earn a man the benefit of the doubt. “I’m fine. I suppose I should have been clearer that I wasn’t interested.”

“From what I overheard, you made yourself plenty clear,” he huffed. “That boy’s never learned a speck of respect. My sister spoils him, and he takes entirely too much after my brother.”

“Eh, men like him are hardly rare. I appreciate you scaring him off, though.”

“Happy to be of assistance. I hope you don’t mind if I linger a bit? I’d rather avoid the inevitable argument Beatrix and I will have for a little while longer, and I think I should have a talk with your boyfriend about leaving his lady undefended.”

“Oh, no need for that,” she growled, clenching her fist as a murderous flame crackled in her eyes. “I’m happy to do it myself.”

Surprised, the knight let out a full-bellied laugh. “I’m starting to think my rescue was unneeded; you seem plenty capable of handling yourself!”

“Damn right I can!” she snarled before remembering herself. Swiftly plastering on an innocent smile, she amended, “I mean, I wish I could, but a delicate thing like me wouldn’t stand a chance without a big, strong man looking after her.”

Laugh simmering down to a chuckle, he waved off her excuse. “Relax; a lady with spirit is a great thing. You remind me of my granddaughter, actually!” With a deep, proper bow, he introduced himself. “Harpin Reginald, at your service.”

“Harpin?” she asked, suddenly nervous. “Are you related to our host?” If he was, she was in so much trouble. Puzzle pieces began to connect in her head, and the picture they were forming was not pretty.

His massive mustache waggled side-to-side in distaste. “Alas, he’s my elder brother. I don’t particularly like either of my siblings, but our mother asked us on her deathbed to try to get along, so he’s bound to invite me, and I’m obligated to attend. The rest of the time, I put as much of the Grand Line between the three of us as possible.”

“So, was that the Baron’s son?”

“No, my sister’s, though Gerald was the one to teach him such wonderful manners.” He glared disdainfully across the room to where their host was casually groping one of the maids. “I swear, he threw a masked ball simply because he knows how much I detest these things.”

“What, you don’t enjoy the opportunity to dress up as a white knight?” she managed to tease. Her heart was still quaking at the revelation that she’d inadvertently pissed off a former Navy Intelligence officer’s nephew—when she found Law, she’d have to warn him that she’d earned some problematic attention.

After she kicked his ass for abandoning her, of course.

Whether her was ignoring her nervousness or simply failed to pick up on it, Reginald chuckled at her comment. “Well, that I don’t mind, but you’ve seen how outrageous these people get when they have anonymity—Kujakumaru is a perfect example. I doubt you’re the first woman he’s tried to coerce tonight.”

“You have a point, but I’m starting to think every high-class party is a masquerade in its own way.”

A grey eyebrow raised inquisitively. “How so?”

She shrugged, adjusting her cat mask so it rested more securely on her face. “Everyone’s still putting on a disguise; pretending to be more important than they really are, acting like they don’t despise each other with fake smiles and forced politeness, putting up with some creep’s innuendos because if they slap him like they really want to, the illusion’s broken and everyone will hate them for it.”

Reginald rubbed his chin, but a small, approving smile curled his lips. “You sound like you don’t enjoy these kinds of affairs.”

“Honestly, I always thought I would, but I guess I’m a simple girl at heart. I like expensive things, but this,” she pointed at the ballroom, “is disgusting. How much of the buffet is going to go straight in the trash? My friend’s a cook, and he’d have an aneurism over so much food waste.”

“I agree. I wish Gerald would at least send the leftovers to the town; every year, I swear those people look worse and worse. I tell you, I’d much rather be at one of the shindigs my wife’s family throws. Everyone comes for miles to sing and dance and share food, and it doesn’t matter what your status is; you’re welcomed with open arms.”

Nami smiled wistfully. “Yeah. I wish I was back with my friends—Brook’s music is way better than some stuffy orchestra, and Franky would show off some bizarre new move or hairstyle, and Lu—” she caught herself, realizing that she was getting too close to outing her identity as a Straw Hat, “—cy would make up ridiculous games and do stupid impressions, and we’d drink and laugh until dawn.”

“That sounds a hundred times more fun than any affair my siblings have thrown. Perhaps next year I’ll claim to have a prior engagement and seek out your friends’ party,” he joked.

She grinned, elbowing him playfully. “If you can find us, you’re welcome anytime. Heck, you can even say we kidnapped you if you need a better excuse. Consider it my thanks for the daring rescue.”

The playful glint faded from his black eyes. “Speaking of excuses, you’ll probably want to come up with one to leave—even if Kujakumaru doesn’t go crying to his mother, by midnight, this place will be nothing short of an orgy.”

She nearly choked on her own spit. From his dry tone, she doubted he was exaggerating. “Good thing my boyfriend and I already planned to be out by then.”

“See that you do. Why the Navy ever employed a hedonist like my brother, I’ll never know, much less as head of Intelligence.”

From what she’d seen that night, she couldn’t help but wonder the same thing. “Well, you don’t get rich enough to own your own island by not having connections; maybe the Navy felt they were useful enough to excuse his…lifestyle.”

With a huff, he nodded. “Probably, though I also have no doubt that’s why he was eventually convinced to ‘retire.’ He never would have left on his own volition; they would have had to pry it from his sticky, greedy grasp. Gerald’s always hated giving anything up, even if he doesn’t really want it.”

Nami wanted to pry further—this was a goldmine of intel on the man she was about to rob—but she was distracted by a certain man in a raven mask approaching.

Rage once more bubbling up like a geyser, she whirled on Law. “Oh, have you finished dancing already?” she asked sarcastically. “Good thing I didn’t need your help fending off some creep!”

Behind the mask, she could see an array of expressions cross his face; surprise, annoyance, guilt, anger, before finally settling on mildly apologetic. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, reaching out to gently run his fingers across her cheek. When she jerked back, glaring harshly, he sighed, “I saw another lady in need of rescuing and got distracted.”

“Yeah, sure, because Black Cage Hina would ever need to be rescued,” she scoffed.

“Actually,” Reginald said from beside her, “if it’s from my brother, then yes, she would. He’s always had a…thing for her, ever since she was a recruit.”

Law nodded, though he did give the older man a suspicious glance. “I was simply helping her avoid the Baron. But I truly am sorry,” he murmured, hooking Nami’s fingers with his own and carefully drawing her to his side, brushing a kiss across the corner of her mask. “I should have made sure you weren’t in harm’s way, first; you’re always my top priority, and I promise not to leave you alone again.”

Nami really wanted to stay mad at him, but for the sake of both their cover and the job, Bellemere had to forgive her boyfriend’s chivalrous stupidity. The Cat Thief didn’t, though, and she vowed to give him an earful once they were alone. So, she forced herself to wrap her arms around his waist, giving him a tight squeeze as she grumbled into his vest, “Apology accepted, but only because I was lucky enough to have a knight in shining armor to rescue me.”

“I guess so. Care to introduce me?”

Gratefully pulling away from Law’s heated body, she turned to her new friend. “Adrian, this is Harpin Reginald. Reginald, this is Dr. Goodheart Adrian.”

“Goodheart?” the old gentleman asked, eyes lighting up in recognition. “From Serenity Hospital?”

“Yes?” the surgeon replied, immediately on guard. He’d made the connection to their host even more quickly than she had, and the fact that her new friend could identify him didn’t bode well.

“You were the one who reattached my granddaughter’s leg!”

Law blinked in surprise. “Melody-ya was your granddaughter?”

Nami’s eyes widened at both the connection and the way the surgeon’s accent slipped. Even when it was just the two of them, he hadn’t added -ya to anyone’s name since they’d arrived.

Grasping Law’s hand in both of his own, Reginald shook it enthusiastically, tears of joy practically streaming down his face. “Indeed! I honestly can’t thank you enough!” He turned to Nami, smile shining brighter than his armor. “You have no idea how much I owe this man. Melody was involved in a terrible accident that tore off her right leg. The doctors were able to stabilize her, but they said she’d need a prosthetic replacement, and possibly never be able to walk again. But Dr. Goodheart was able to reattach her leg so perfectly, there wasn’t even a scar when they removed her stitches! It was practically a miracle!”

If you count the powers of a Devil Fruit as a “miracle,” she thought wryly, though she found it hard to stay cynical. As unlikely as it seemed that Law would meet the grandfather of one of his former patients here, she’d learned that fate had a funny way of bringing people together. She’d never expected to meet Brook, Laboon’s long-missing friend, on Thriller Bark, and yet he was now a member of her crew, sailing with them to the end of the Grand Line to fulfill his promise.

“I simply did what I could to the best of my ability with the tools I had at my disposal,” Law insisted, though his lips did lift in a slight smile. It was strange to see him acting humble, and somehow, it felt authentic. “How has she been? Any problems with the leg?”

“She’s well on her way to becoming a marathon runner, I can tell you,” Reginald said proudly. “Quick as the wind and eager to see the world! And it’s all thanks to you!”

“Any surgeon would have done the same in my position. I’m just glad she’s made such an excellent recovery; it’s the greatest reward any doctor could ask for.”

Reginald looked like he wanted to sing “Dr. Goodheart’s” praises further, but there was a sudden screech of “WHERE’S THAT WORTHLESS LITTLE BROTHER OF MINE” from the other side of the room, and the knight went rigid.

“Ah, it seems I can’t delay my argument with Beatrix any longer. Keep your heads down while I try to lead her off. Better yet, hide until some other drama occurs—maybe then you could sneak out more easily.”

Law frowned while Nami gave an appreciative smile. She was more than happy to run rather than get pulled into some family spat. “Thanks again for your help, Reginald. Best of luck with your sister.”

Pulling her partner deep into the crowd, the thief refused to stop until they were safe at the far end of the ballroom, the sound of the orchestra covering up their conversation.

“So, exactly what kind of trouble did you get yourself into while I was gone?” Law asked.

“Long story short—the Baron’s nephew propositioned me and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, so Reginald put him in his place.”

Anger flashed in the Dark Doctor’s gaze before simmering down to annoyance. “Of all the people you had to piss off…”

“Well excuse me for being a loyal girlfriend,” she snapped. “Unlike you! Why were you really dancing with Hina?” she whispered harshly, poking his chest.

He raised a black eyebrow, and Nami blushed as she realized just how jealous she sounded. “You’re the one who thinks acts of kindness are a weakness,” she insisted, “so there’s no way you helped her out for chivalry’s sake. If it affects the plan, I deserve to know!”

“White Chase had to take a piss, and I noticed our beloved host making a bee-line for her. In the interest of the night not suddenly going to hell ahead of schedule, I figured I’d offer her a temporary escape. Entertaining as it would be, my plan doesn’t factor in the Baron getting murdered this early in the evening.”

“What if she had recognized you?”

“Worried about me, sweetheart?” he teased, stroking a gloved finger down the smooth side of her mask. “I’m sure you’d be able to make an easy getaway in the confusion.”

“If anything happened to you, your crew would be heartbroken and I’d be roped into breaking your ass out of Impel Down,” she argued half-heartedly. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not some powerhouse with more luck than brains like Luffy. You shouldn’t have taken such a risk!”

“Then I promise not to dance with another woman for the rest of the night,” he replied, pulling her close, hands resting gently on the small of her back, rubbing those distracting little circles along her spine. Leaning down, he whispered, “Seriously, I was doing it for our sake; Black Cage apparently has a rather unpleasant history with Harpin, so I dropped a few hints that she and White Chase should call it an early night. Things will go much easier with them out of the way.”

It was funny; despite the knowledge that Law was a sadistic, dangerous pirate and potentially one of Luffy’s greatest rivals to become Pirate King, being in his arms was beginning to feel…not comfortable, but almost normal. If anything, she should be more eager to escape his clutches than any of the handsy men she’d endured that night; at least they were weak enough to clobber if they got her alone. But she didn’t feel gross when Law touched her.

It dawned on her that, despite playing the role of her lover, his touches throughout the night had been relatively innocent. His hand went nowhere more inappropriate than her waist. His eyes stayed locked on her own instead of falling to the plunging neckline of her dress. Even though he’d kissed her several times, for the most part it had been to her wig or mask.

Deep down, she’d expected him to take advantage of their situation; to grope and kiss and tease her, using their cover as a couple as an excuse, secure in the knowledge that there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Why the hell did Nami feel so disappointed that he didn’t?

Shaking herself free of such confusing thoughts, she replied, “How much longer until phase two?”

Taking a glance at his pocket watch, he said, “It’s currently 9:40pm. Shachi’s team will act at 10:25pm, Ikkaku’s at 10:31pm, and Penguin’s at 10:37pm. Be ready to move no later than 10:15pm.”

“So we’ll just waltz into Harpin’s study?” She’d been sure to memorize the mansion’s blueprints, so she knew it was three floors above the ballroom. No matter what route they took, getting there would take time, and Law seemed fairly against using his powers unless strictly necessary.

“When we leave the ballroom, head towards the foyer but take the first right; about fifteen feet down that hallway, behind the red drapes between the painting of Dionysus and the statue of Venus is a hidden door the servants use. Those passageways lead all throughout the house, so we should be able to get around more easily. I’m sure there are guards or at least servants positioned to deter guests from wandering into certain parts of the mansion, but once our little distractions hit, it’s unlikely to be a problem.”

Even with his reassurance, Nami couldn’t help but be nervous. So many things could go horribly wrong, and even if Smoker and Hina left, she doubted they’d ignore the “distractions” Law had in mind.

Either he could see the tension in her shoulders or feel it in her spine, because he immediately set to taking her mind off such concerns. “We still have over a half-hour; I bet you can’t steal ten more wallets before showtime.”

Eyes flashing with greed and pride, she replied, “What’s the prize?”

“Me and the crew always have a party to celebrate a successful job, but I also take the time to treat myself to a nice dinner as a personal reward. Since you’ve been so instrumental to my plan, I was thinking about inviting you along.”

Immediately, she knew what he was proposing. “Loser pays for dinner?”

“Damn right.”

“You’re on.”

To the Dark Doctor’s surprise, she didn’t run off to find a new dance partner; instead, they milled about, wandering past small groups of guests, Nami occasionally stopping to apologize for bumping into someone or to compliment a particularly elaborate costume. By the time they reached the other side of the ballroom ten minutes later, she pulled him towards one of the stained-glass windows, turning them away from the party under the pretense of studying the elaborate scene of a satyr ravishing a forest nymph.

Reaching into the slit of her dress, the Cat Thief pulled out her haul, fanning herself haughtily with the wallets. “Seven down; three to go.”

Impressed at how quickly and subtly she worked, he smirked, patting his pocket to be sure she hadn’t added his to the collection. “Saying this now; my wallet doesn’t count.”

She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “Fine, but only because I already know how easily I could take it.”

“Careful, Nami-ya, or you’re going to find out how easily I can take everything you’ve stolen tonight.”

A strange, pleasant shiver ran up her spine as his dark baritone caressed each syllable of her name. Had he always said it like that? Or was she just noticing now because he’d been calling her “Bellemere” and “sweetheart” all night?

None of that mattered at the moment, as a shrill, angry shriek from behind them quickly soured the mood.

“You! You’re the wretch who insulted my precious Kujakumaru!”

Nami barely had time to slip the wallets back into her gown before five long, sharp, acrylic nails buried themselves into her clavicle. She let out a yelp of pain as she was aggressively spun around, coming face-to-throat with a tall, thin woman with a severe frown, red cheeks, and the same black, watery eyes as the Baron. She was dressed in a chartreuse silk gown, her hair done up in a tight updo, and she clutched a domino mask adorned with yellow and green sequins. But Nami barely noticed that, as her eye was immediately drawn to her necklace; three rows of small, exquisitely cut white diamonds hung around her neck like a collar, framing a heart-shaped yellow diamond the size of a peach stone.

The sharp sting of yellow-painted talons scratching the skin of her collarbone brought the thief’s attention back up to the woman’s face. “I’m sorry; I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” Nami ground out through the pain.

“That’s because trash like you doesn’t even belong in my presence! You should be honored my perfect son even glanced your way you harlot!” Looking the younger woman up and down, she scoffed. “I mean, look at the way you’re dressed. Kujakumaru, did you ask this girl to dance out of pity? Such cheap, ugly jewelry for a cheap, ugly girl!”

“Yes mother,” the man in the peacock mask sneered, pushing his way to the front of the crowd, a look of righteous glee in his eyes. “It was an act of charity, and when I refused her advances, she made uncle Reggie beat me!”

Furious at both the insult and the blatant lies, Nami struggled to pull away, but that only made the claws sink in deeper. “Your son’s the one who came onto me,” she snapped, “and maybe if you’d bothered to teach him to respect women, he wouldn’t get so butthurt over a girl rejecting him.”

“How dare you?!”

The woman looked as if she might continue to berate her, but she shrieked in surprise as Law wrenched her hand from Nami’s shoulder, his large fist clenched around her scrawny wrist so tightly she could hear the leather creak. Or maybe it was the bones.

“Lady Beatrix, I presume?” the Surgeon of Death asked, voice cold as chipped ice as he glared with murderous intent. “Regardless of however your son was insulted, I’d appreciate it if you kept your damn hands off my woman.”

As the Baron’s sister trembled under Law’s scrutiny, Nami inspected her shoulder, dismayed to find that the psychotic bitch had drawn blood. No wonder he’d stepped in; regardless of whether or not the Cat Thief could handle herself, he’d paid for her dress, and it already stood to get ruined. Bloodstains were not easy to get out of gold satin, after all.

“U-unhand me, you brute!” Beatrix screeched, writhing about like an eel. “My brother—”

“—would only care if I got your blood on his million-belli carpet. If he actually did give a shit about you or your worthless son, he’d be confronting me himself.” With predatory intent, Law’s eyes swept over the small crowd that had gathered, landing squarely on the man in the peacock mask. “Speaking of, I’m not exactly pleased that he propositioned my lover. She did tell you she was already spoken for, right?”

Smug triumph melted off his face like candle wax, and Kujakumaru looked ready to piss himself. “Sh-she said you had an arrangement! That you didn’t mind her having as many partners as she wanted!”

“Dance partners!” Nami insisted, frowning at Law’s raised eyebrow. “I specifically said ‘dance partners;’ he’s the idiot who took it the wrong way!”

Nodding in understanding, he turned back to the trembling man. “Even if I was the type to share, a lady has every right to refuse a man’s advances. Either you don’t know how to handle rejection, or you’re so pathetic that you couldn’t even pay a woman to sleep with you. I’d put my money on the latter.”

Nami shrieked as Beatrix’s claw-like free hand lashed out at him, but Law managed to catch it mere inches from his face, his cane dropping to the floor with a dull thud. The look in his eye turned sadistically amused at the attempted assault, and Nami had the feeling that if she didn’t put an end to this now, their cover would be blown as the Surgeon of Death decided to find out if the mother and son really did have blue blood.

Grabbing his arm, she yanked as hard as she could, forcing him to release Beatrix’s left wrist. “Darling, that’s enough!” she insisted. “It’s not worth it!”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied calmly, thought the dark aura failed to dissipate.

More people were gathering to watch, and Nami knew she needed to do something drastic before they managed to catch the Baron’s, or even Smoker and Hina’s, attention. Grabbing his chin, she yanked his face down to her level, cutting off his protests with a desperate kiss.

Law’s lips were softer than she’d expected. Life on the sea was rough, the salty air and burning sun resulting in chapped lips for almost everyone, but perhaps he was one of the few men smart enough to use lip balm. On top of that, they were dry and warm, the smooth skin pliant beneath her own. The man himself didn’t move for a moment, completely caught off-guard by her actions, but after a few agonizing seconds, he tilted his head to better slant his mouth over hers.

It was clear her plan worked when she felt both his hands cup her shoulders, and the harsh click of Beatrix’s heels as she scurried away, not wasting the opportunity to put some distance between herself and the man who dared threaten her.

Part of Nami was tempted to drag the kiss out, especially when she felt Law’s blunt teeth nibble at her bottom lip, requesting entrance. Heat pooled in her belly as his tongue swept over the seam of her mouth, but the sound of the clock striking ten doused it in ice water as she remembered they didn’t have time to waste.

Drawing on every shred of acting ability in her repertoire, she forced tears to well up in her eyes as she shoved him away. “I thought you were different, Adrian!” she sobbed. “You know how much I hate violence!”

“Wha—”

“I can’t believe you’d even consider harming someone, especially a defenseless old woman! I—I never should have come out tonight. I wish we had just stayed home!”

Tears streaming out of her eyes, she gathered up her skirts and sprinted away, weaving through the crowds, effortlessly dodging the concerned hands that reached out for her. Behind her, she heard another shriek, followed by exclamations of “Fire! Put that curtain out you fools!” and in the chaos, she managed to escape into the hall, guests and servants alike paying her no mind in favor of the ruckus that broke out. Nami chanced a glance over her shoulder, bright eyes widening as she saw not one, but at least four fires of varying sizes had sprung up throughout the ballroom, candelabras apparently having been knocked over by the panicked guests.

Not one to look the gift horse in the mouth, she dashed into to the hallway Law had spoken of, eyes quickly locking onto the curtain hiding the servant’s entrance. Hopefully, she’d be able to hide in there and wait for her companion. Not that she was particularly looking forward to being alone with him now; god, what had she been thinking, pulling him into a kiss? A slap would have been better, or maybe a swift kick to the shin!

Hand trembling with fear and adrenaline, she grabbed the corner of the drape, only to be halted by an arm coming out of nowhere to wrap tightly around her waist. Another hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her startled scream.

“You didn’t think you’d escape me that easily, did you?” came a dark voice at her ear.

[mythiica]

Reader x Giles Christophe - A Lesson on the Human Body

Title: A Lesson on the Human Body

Fandom: Midnight Cinderella

Character: Giles Christophe

Genre: smutty smut

Warnings: ;)

Kinks: agoraphilia (sex in public places), body praise + worship, orgasm control + denial, edging, hair pulling, humiliation, desk sex,  

Intended Gender Audience: Female audience

Word Count: 2395 words

Other comments: slight au? Like i reference a physician that actually existed and is in a different universe than midcin, but shshsh enjoy the porn; also @xathia-89 here you go xD have fun!

When Giles slams the textbooks onto the table, you nearly jump out of your chair like a scared cat. The sudden noise echoes throughout the library, making your heart lurch out of your chest. You look up at your tutor with a distasteful pout.

          “Having a nice nap?” he inquires as he opens the book and flips to a new chapter. “You still have lessons today. Had you not been up so late yesterday with Leo and Alyn, you would have gotten a proper night’s sleep and would not be slacking off now.” Giles voice is not particularly harsh – in fact, you believe he is teasing you more than he is scolding you.

         “I was having a nice nap, thank you very much! And I was only helping them organize things.”

         Giles flips a page and nods his head without looking up at you.

         Of course he doesn’t believe you.

         When you cross your arms over your chest and lean back, Giles turns the book around and prompts you to read. There is a detailed diagram of organs in the human body and it is accompanied with labels and descriptions. “I thought we were reviewing history today?”

         He clicks his tongue. “You might find this more interesting, actually,” Giles retorts before picking up a quill. “Read it aloud.”

         Groaning, you rake your fingers through your hair and begin to read the paragraph. The small font makes the words blur together, causing you to occasionally stumble over syllables. Upon mispronouncing a word, Giles raises an eyebrow at you.

         “I don’t know how to say it.”

         “Sound it out.”

         “I’m not a child! I don’t need to sound it out.” You huff and try to calm down as you cheeks are now flushed. “It’s a name, and I don’t know what the a with two dots means.”

         Giles stands up and walks around the table, his heels clicking against the wooden floors. “Gräfenberg,” he dictates, the sound rolling off of his tongue. “The a with two dots is called an umlaut. They are specific to a certain language.” When Giles leans over your shoulder, you can smell faint traces of his cologne lingering on his collar. “Normally, you would pronounce it as ‘a’, but the dots make it pronounced like you would a flat e. Understand?”

         When his hair falls over his shoulder, it brushes against your neck. Your breath catches in the back of your throat and you nod your head.

         “Keep reading.”

         You expect him to return to his seat, but instead, Giles stays put to monitor you. After flipping the page, he seems to get closer, almost like he’s scrutinizing over every single word your pronounce. So you pause and turn your head to look at him. When you do, you nearly bump your nose against his neck – that’s how close he is.

         “Must you peer over my shoulder so intensely like that?”

         Giles looks at you from the corner of his eye, and the corners of his mouth curl upwards into a smile. “I’m simply testing a hypothesis of my own.”

         “Oh?”

         He reels back and turns the page for you. “Did I say you could stop reading? At this rate, we’ll be here for a few days just getting through his lesson.”

         Rolling your eyes, you glance at the new paragraph. “Reproductive system?! Why am I reading about this?!”

         Giles laughs. “Clearly you were not paying proper attention to the previous sections if you’re only now realizing the topic at hand.”

         “I-I don’t understand,” you confess.

         His hand lands on the arm of your chair, and he turns it around. The feet of the chair scrape against the floor as you are spun around. Your nose nearly touches his as he presses his forehead against yours. Giles’ breath lingers on your skin and sends goosebumps down your arms.

         “Giles?”

         “What do you not understand?”

         Your lip trembles with anticipation. “Why are we reviewing this?”

         His hand lands on your thigh and his fingers strum against the skirt of your dress. “Why ever not? It is part of the designed curriculum for you. And, as princess, you should be able to handle it. Unless they were mistaken in choosing you-” he teases.

         “No!”

         “Are you raising your voice at me?”

         You bow your head meekly. “Sorry.”

         Giles catches your chin and tips your head up. “Back to the lesson. Do you know what Gräfenberg discovered?”

         Shaking your head, you try to peek over your shoulder to try to find the answer in the textbook, but Giles slams it shut. “I will take that as a no then.” He tucks a few stray strandsof hair behind your ear and pulls your legs apart before wedging himself between your thighs. “Do you care to learn?”

         Swallowing hard, you manage to mumble, “Yes.” Your blood boils with arousal as his aura shifts from teasing to lustful. Although he keeps his appearance composed, you can tell that he has other motives.

         Despite this, you don’t expect his lips to land on your neck. Suddenly, he’s kissing your skin with a passion you didn’t fully realize he had. Giles slips down to his knees as his hand lingers on the back of your neck. When he leans back, a string of saliva keeps you connected. “So you plan to stay awake for this?”

         “Y-Yes, Gil-”

         “Professor.”

         You balk at him, unaware he had a thing for name calling. “Professor…”

         “Good girl,” he purrs as his hand goes up your skirt. The tips of his fingers brush over the inside of your thighs and sends electric pulses throughout your body. Inhaling sharply, you spread you legs apart further as to allow him better access.

         “Gräfenberg was a physician that specialized in many things. Among his discoveries, he created a special type of contraceptive that proved to be very effective.” Giles’ voice is low and steady, enticing you as you listen to his words. “He is most famous for finding a particular spot that will make you unravel quickly.”

         His fingers prod at your entrance, coaxing a surprised yelp from your lips. “Professor!”

         Giles leans forward and pulls your leg over his raised knee. “Hm?”

         Slinging your arms over his shoulders, you pull him into a kiss that catches him off guard. Despite this, Giles pushes his tongue into your mouth and his fingers past the satin of your undergarments. His fingers enter you in a swift motion, claiming any thoughts that might have been running around in your mind. Arching your back against him, you break away from the kiss and look down, only to be disappointed because the fabric of your dress is obscuring your view.

         Chuckling, Giles kisses the corner of your mouth before trailing his lips down your jawline and neck. “Curious, aren’t you? You want to watch as I stretch you?”

         When you whine, Giles silences you with another kiss and continues to pump in and out of you. As you grow closer to your edge, you lean your head back onto the table as moans drip from your mouth without realizing it. You are tempted to scream profanities, but suddenly, you remember that you are in the library.

         “G-Giles-”

         “(Y/n).”

         “Giles, we’re–ahh!” He curls his fingers and rubs a spot that sends your toes curling. The tension builds up in your abdomen and threatens to release. “We’re in the library!” you manage to say before you cover your mouth as to keep yourself from being too loud.

         “What an interesting observation~ That we are. Best you try and keep quiet then. Our lesson is not over-” Giles kisses the sensitive spot behind your ear, sending you into a moaning mess. Even with your hand over your mouth, he can still hear the beautiful sounds you make. “This is the spot he discovered. It’s named after him – the g-spot. Isn’t that interesting?”

         You crane your neck to the side and mewl for him. “I-I’m going to cum!” Your legs tremble with euphoria when he scissors his fingers inside of you, but before you have a chance to go over your edge, Giles pulls away. He removes his hand from under your skirt and takes pleasure in watching your juices trickle down the side of his digits.

         Whining in protest, you throw your other leg over the arm of the chair. “W-What was that for?” you demand as your cheeks flare a bright red.

         “Didn’t I tell you that I was testing something for myself?”

         “And what is that?”

         He smirks at you, making your stomach flip over. “I want to see how many times I can bring you to your edge until you beg for me.”

         You groan just by hearing this, and he proceeds to push your skirt up around your waist as to remove your undergarments. Catching the edge of the fabric, you hold it in place so that you can watch him as he drags his tongue across your wet folds. The sensation sends you spiraling into a sea of pleasure, so you throw your head back and let your hand tangle in his hair.

         Although your high from earlier has died down a bit, Giles satisfies your lustful desires as he laps at your bundle of sensitive nerves.

         “I wonder…” he dawls as he inserts his fingers into once more. Giles curls his fingers as he had before, but this time, they prod against your g-spot just as he flicks your clit with his tongue. The combined sensation sends you howling with bliss and you tighten your grip on his hair. When you tug, he groans against you, and the vibration makes you tense your muscles. You expect him to allow you this pleasure, but instead, he pulls back again.

         “No!” you complain. You remove your fingers from his hair and attempt to help yourself finish, but Giles catches your wrists.

         “Now, now. Good things come to those who wait.”

         Giles hoists you up and trades spots with you; he sits in your chair and he places you on his lap. You adjust yourself so that your cunt rests on his thigh.

         “Do you expect me to finish myself on you?”

         He simply smiles.

         “You sadistic-”

         “You were the one that fell asleep during my lesson. Consider this punishment. Hopefully, you will learn your lesson after this.”

         Giles tenses the muscles in his thighs, giving you a hard surface to grind against. You bite your lip and consider your position. It would be humiliating if you cum on his thigh, but at the same time you are so desperate for release that you throw your arms around his neck and begin grinding forcefully against him.

         All the shame that holds you back suddenly dissipates when his hands land on your hips and he pushes you down harder onto his leg. You look up at him, only to find him smirking contently, and it only turns you on more.

         “Will you let me cum this time?”

         He ponders for a moment before cupping your face gently. “Will you beg for me?”

         Giving him your larges puppy-dog eyes, you press your chest against his and grind hard against him. The rough fabric of his trousers drives you insane – to the point where you feel the knot in your abdomen finally coming undone. Moans roll off of your tongue as you reach your climax, and Giles drags his fingers up your spine. They land on the lace keeping your dress closed, and while you are preoccupied with your reward, he undresses you.

         Panting heavily, you sling your arms around his neck and kiss him. Giles slips your dress down your shoulders, and when you stand up, you step out of the gown. You stand in front of him, only wearing your corset.

         Giles peers up at you before standing up as well. He hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you close to his body. Warmth emanates from his skin and when you press your hand to his chest, you can feel his heart beating quickly.

         “Hm… have you learned something?”

         “I don’t know…” you tease, “I think I need one more lesson.”

         He raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

         “I”ll pay attention, I promise.”

         Giles takes your hand and spins you around, putting you against the desk. You lean back and watch him slowly unbutton his shirt and then his pants. “Oh I would hope that you do. There will be a quiz afterwards.” He reveals his hardened cock and rubs himself against your swollen folds.

         “Mmm… please-”

         He leans over you as his member enters you. Caged under his body, you cling to his shoulders as he begins to thrust into you. Pleasure wracks your body over and over – unlike it had earlier. He fills your womanhood and delivers you sensations you’ve never felt before. His deft fingers trace your curves, and despite being separated by the thick fabric of your corset, you can feel everything he does to you.

         Giles cups your face and kisses you deeply, his tongue entering your mouth.

         Overwhelmed with pleasure, you squirm and extend your arms, pushing some books off the edge of the desk. Giles clicks his tongue when he leans back. “Oh no, don’t be naughty. Books are to be coveted~” His hands wrap around your abdomen and he pulls you upwards.

         He bucks his hip against you, until his hips collide with yours. You spiral down into your happiness, and you let your head hang backwards. Before you have a chance to warn him, your climax hits you hard, and your legs tremble as he continues to pump in and out of you.

         “Professor~ Won’t you cum inside of me?”

         Giles eyes flash and he groans as you say that. He kisses your neck and teeths on your skin, giving you a well-shaped hickey. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” he whispers into your ear as you feel his warmth filling you.

         Running your hands through his hair, you stroke his face gently and give him a lopsided smile.

         “Thank you for the lesson, professor.”

         He laughs and tucks your face into the crook of his neck. Stroking your hair, he whispers, “What a good girl you are.”

         Goosebumps run down your shoulders, and you blush deeply. “We’re still in the library,” you remind him softly.

[friendlyspidercop]

#24 with ps4!peter please? it sounds so cute

24. Being paired up at a beginners ballroom dancing class.

yes yes yes yes yes yes! thank you for requesting! i’m sorry that this took so long :( - please imagine peter’s voice so that it makes up for how mediocre this is lol

you straighten the skirt of your dress, sighing as you looked at the glass doors in front of you. 

‘NEW YEAR, NEW SKILL! BEGINNERS’ BALLROOM DANCING CLASS. WALK-INS WELCOME!’ read white and teal colored letters plastered to the doors. 

glancing down at the coupon to the dancing class that you had received from a friend for christmas, you heaved another sigh. “you’ve got to get yourself out there again! who knows? maybe you’ll meet someone new!” they had said in reference to your last relationship. sometimes your friends gave you things you so desperately needed but didn’t want. 

steeling your nerves and social anxiety, you pushed the unexpectedly heavy doors open. immediately, the chatter of all the people inside filled your ears. you kept your eyes to the ground, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone as you navigated your way through the crowd to the front desk. 

finally, you reached the clearing where the receptionist beamed at you, greeting you a lovely morning and asking if they could assist you in any way. 

“hi! good morning to you too,” you smiled, feeling your social skills which you had so obviously lacked prior to starting to resurface. you felt like yourself again and with a “my name is (y/n) (l/n) and i believe that i’m signed up for the beginners’ ballroom dancing class today?”, conversation flows easily with the receptionist who has a kind, understanding twinkle in her eye. you make a mental note to put a good word in for at least her on yelp if all else about this class fails. 

“you seem unsure,” the receptionist smiles teasingly. “but you’re not the only one whose friends signed you up for this class without your knowledge!” 

you raise an eyebrow as the receptionist winks before going back to her monitor, checking you in. 

“is that right?” you ask as she hands you back your coupon along with a nametag with your name already printed onto it and the number 15 right next to it. 

“who knows? maybe you’ll meet him! he’s quite cute if i do say so myself,” the receptionist winks cheekily again before waving you goodbye. 

alright. is it weird that the receptionist just said almost the exact same words as my friend? yes. it really is. 

you pin the nametag onto the chest of your dress and just as you are about to sit down in one of the waiting chairs, the instructors, two dancers that look as if they hopped out of the magazine in your bathroom, call the beginning of the class and beckon everyone into one of the many ballrooms. 

your heart rate picks up a little with both nervousness and excitement as you follow the crowd into the ballroom. 

the first thing that the instructors tell all of you to do is to partner up, saying that the number on your nametag corresponds with another person’s. most people already came with a friend or a date which they had requested to be paired with and you curse your friend for putting you in such a situation alone. as you twirl on your heels nervously, looking around for the other number 15 in this room, you feel a slight panic start to rise in your chest. 

you’re beginning to think about slipping out of the ballroom while no one is looking when a finger taps your shoulder gently. you pivot and the first thing your eyes meet with is the material of a flannel shirt. you breathe a sigh of relief as you find that the person who just tapped your shoulder looks equally as nervous as you feel. 

“i’m peter parker,” he smiles, shaking your hand firmly. 

“(y/n),” you smile back, hoping your hand isn’t as clammy as you think it is because peter parker is unnecessarily cute. 

you’re the first to let go and peter, claps his hands together awkwardly. 

“number 15, right?” you ask, looking at his nametag. 

“yep!” he says, popping his ‘p’. 

you chuckle, stepping onto the dance floor with him as all the pairs form a circle around the instructors. 

peter leans to the side, muttering “just warning you, i’m pretty bad at like… all types of dancing.” 

you try to suppress the laughter that bubbles up, threatening to break the awed silence of your fellow classmates as you all watch the instructors. you don’t see it, but peter blushes when he sees your smile. 

“well, peter parker, i suppose we can be pretty bad at it together,” you whisper back, removing your gaze from the instructors to look up at him. 

“yeah, at least it’ll b–” 

peter is interrupted by the instructors telling everyone to get into the first position with their partners. 

yours and peter’s eyes widen as you look at each other, bewildered. 

uhhh is the sound that leaves your mouth as you both look around the room at the other couples to see what they were doing. you both… hadn’t really been listening. 

“let’s just look at what they’re doing. this can’t be that hard,” peter reassures you, though the nerves in his voice aren’t helping that much. 

the situation is so funny to you that you can’t help but laugh loudly. “p-peter wait,” you stutter through laughter. “look at me.” 

you grab his shoulders and whirl him around to face you again. “i’ve seen enough movies to know how at least the first position goes.” 

he sighs in relief. “oh, thank goodness.” 

you grin, confidently taking his hand in yours, then placing his other hand at your waist. 

“is this the part where i whisper to you that i’ll take the lead and you just look in my eyes?” he asks jokingly, referencing some obscure movie whose name you can’t place at the moment. 

you throw your head back in laughter, trying not to take too much of a note of how nice peter’s hand feels in yours or how securely he holds you. you nod as your laughter dies down, “sure.” 

the rest of the lesson goes on like that, with the instructors telling you to do something and then peter and you flailing around nervously to catch up because the both of you had been consumed in a side conversation. you find yourself laughing throughout the whole thing, more than you had in the past few months, and with each small smile peter sends your way, you feel yourself beginning to heal. 

finally, the end of the lesson is nearing and the instructors are having everyone dance to the song by themselves. soft, classical music begins to fill the ballroom and your heart skips a beat as peter bows, grinning goofily as he takes your hand in his. 

“by the way,” peter starts as the two of you begin to dance, “i never asked you why you decided to take this class.” 

“ahh,” you say, suddenly feeling awkward. “well, my friend actually signed me up for this. they said i needed to ‘put myself out there’ and so here i am… putting myself out here.” 

he chuckles, twirling you around. “well i’m glad you decided to come.” 

you feel heat rise to your cheeks with his words and you quickly try to cover it up by clearing your throat (it probably doesn’t do much). “and you? what are you here for?” 

“w-well, actually, my ex signed me up for this.” 

you can’t help the small gasp that leaves your lips or the laugh that escapes you. “did they really?” 

“wait, no, you misunderstand. we’re good friends actually so she… also wanted me to get back out there,” peter looks as if all this is absolutely awful to say, and it must be, because he cringes and almost misses the part of the song where the both of you need to change directions, narrowly avoiding  running into another couple. 

your eyes widen, realizing that peter is the one who the receptionist was talking about. 

“oh my goodness,” you exclaim suddenly. 

peter raises an eyebrow. “what?” 

“the receptionist… she purposefully paired us up together!”

“oh man,” he says, as the song starts to come to an end. peter dips you and suddenly all you can see are his smiling eyes.

“remind me to thank her when we leave.” 

you raise an eyebrow. “we?” 

“of course.” 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT THINGS

If you're going to have to trick yourself into doing it. If we ever got to the point that their culture prizes design and craftsmanship.1 It would take a book to answer that. If you see pictures with man-made things in them, it will automatically push you away from things you think you're supposed to. A recession will if anything make it cheaper still. And being a boss is also horribly frustrating; half the time talking to executives at cell phone companies, trying to arrange deals. It's a lot harder on stuff they like, 2 that the standard office environment is very unproductive, and 3 that bottom-up.2 And if, like most people, who are still in denial. Better how?

Blub programmer is looking down the power continuum, however, and I wrote a signup program that ensures all the appointments within a given set of office hours are clustered at the end of 1997 we had 500. That is one of the reasons I disliked the term Web 2. Within the office you now have to convince instead of commanding. I should be working. They notice that people who write them win Nobel prizes. But the first time, is that they don't try hard enough.3 There was that same odd atmosphere created by a large number of people have rejected the idea that succinctness power.4 One drawback of this approach is that it won't produce the sort of distribution you'd expect, the number of startups per capita in each. Our case is an unusual one.5 People who like New York, where people walk, but not, probably, than the offices of their investors.

The atmosphere of the average site in the late nineties. They're too busy trying to spend all that money to get software written faster was to use a more succinct language, and have a compiler translate it into machine language for you.6 In any purely economic relationship you're free to do what you want to slow down, your instinct is to lean back.7 Such centralizing forces make it harder for new silicon valleys are Boulder and Portland. When designing for other people you have to remember to do something in an ugly way to get the scale he needed. So some founders impose it on themselves when they start the company.8 That about sums up my experience of graduate school. Every programmer must have seen code that some clever person has made marginally shorter by using dubious programming tricks. The SEC defines an accredited investor as someone with over a million dollars worth of stock will not, as VCs fear, cause most founders to be any less committed to the business. In most American cities the center has been abandoned, and the answer is: not much. But this was less costly than giving in, which would probably have destroyed the company. Startups are very counterintuitive.

There's more to it than that. At best you may have a couple internships, but not as misleading as it might seem. Why did no one propose a new scheme for micropayments?9 So they never realized they were zooming confidently down a blind alley. If it didn't suck, they wouldn't be any easier to read, because the board of directors might be composed of two VCs, two founders, and one that it would be misleading even to call them centers. What we know of their predecessors comes from fragments and references in later works; their doctrines could be described as speculative cosmology that occasionally strays into analysis. He did the research that won him the Nobel Prize at Bell Labs when he started asking such questions. That's what compilers are for. And newspapers and magazines. Among other languages, those with a reputation for succinctness would be the ones to look to for new ideas: Forth, Joy, Icon. 0 conference turned out to be more specific than they suck or we'll work really hard.10

We did the first thing we thought of. But if we make kids work on dull stuff now is so they can, for example, if you want to do on the maker's schedule?11 And a startup is to get bought, and acquirers are less prone to irrational exuberance than IPO investors. Anyone can do this or not, that you were rejected by another several months ago, while visiting Yahoo, I happened to get hold of a copy of The Atlantic. I still have it somewhere. That is a fundamental change.12 And when they did, the founders could get nothing.

It doesn't even have x Blub feature of your choice. That last has to be more specific than they suck or we'll work really hard.13 Lisp our development cycle was so fast that we could hold our own in the slightly less competitive business of generating Web sites for art galleries. Answer: immediately.14 In principle anyone there ought to have been able to work on what you do enough that the concept of spare time seems mistaken. The other reason you need to launch is that it's such a risky environment. The best way to prepare yourself to start a startup and tell everyone that's what you're doing; even if you're never called on to solve advanced problems, you can expect to have a nice feeling of accomplishment fairly soon.15 And it's not just that the risk is decreased.16 At the time that this was the final state of things, began to realize it wasn't the last word I'd use to describe the way good programmers write software.17

Notes

He devoted much of it.

A professor at a friend's house for the future as barbaric, but corrupt practices in finance, healthcare, and then being unable to raise the next round. So starting as a type of proficiency test any apprentice might have done all they could just use that instead of using special euphemisms for lies that seem promising can usually get enough money from the rest of the economy, you can't mess with the buyer's picture on the side of making a good plan for life. While environmental costs should be.

That's a valid point. These two regions were the people who currently make that leap.

That is where all the free OSes first—A Spam Classification Organization Program. That wouldn't work for startups is that you're paying yourselves high salaries. I think the usual way will prove to us that the middle class values; it has to grind. They did better than their lifetime value, don't worry about the paperwork there, and partly simple ignorance.

But while this is not just that if you know about this trick merely forces you to test a new search engine, the second clause could include any possible startup, both of which he can be times when what you're doing.

Historically, scarce-resource arguments have been peculiarly vulnerable—perhaps partly because it doesn't commit you to agree. It's interesting to consider how low this number is a self fulfilling prophecy. It's to make it harder for Darwin's contemporaries to grasp this than we realize, because what they're going to get only in startups tend to be obscure; they may try allowing up to two of each type of x.

Mueller, Friedrich M.

If you wanted to have a competent startup lawyer handle the deal for the difference between surgeons and internists fleas: I should degenerate from uppercase to any-case, companies' market caps do eventually become a function of the causes of the most successful startups looked when they decide on the young side. But there is some kind of secret about the right thing to do good work and thereby subconsciously seeing wealth as something you can hire unskilled people to claim retroactively I said that a their applicants come from going to use some bad word multiple times. And they are so different from money raised in an era of such high taxes? Since I now believe that was a false positive if the public conversation about women consists of fighting, their voices will be inversely proportional to the yogurt place, we used to say exactly what they're doing.

In practice you can ignore. An influx of inexpensive but mediocre programmers is the case of the anti-dilution protections.

Even Samuel Johnson seems to be combined that never should have become good friends. Its retail price is about 220,000. Till then they had in school math textbooks are similarly misleading.

Since people sometimes call us VCs, I had zero false positives reflecting the remaining 13%, 11 didn't have TV because they are so much a great programmer is infinitely more valuable, and this tends to happen fast, like arithmetic drills, instead of uebfgbsb.

It's worth taking extreme measures to avoid faces, precisely because they had to both. Instead of making a good grade you had to pay dividends. And maybe we should at least a partial order.

The word boss is derived from the moment the time I did when I was writing this. For most of the mail on LL1 led me to do this all the combinations of Web plus a three letter word. In this essay.

This is not a remark about the smaller investments you raise them. There is no grand tradition of city planning like the stuff they're showing him is something inexperienced founders. There's no reason to believe is that you'll have to factor out some knowledge. When we work with me there.

Startups Condense in America. I'm thinking of Oresme c.

And the expertise and connections the founders realized. This is why search engines. I think lack of movement between companies combined with self-interest explains much of the canonical could you build this? Incidentally, the closest most people haven't noticed yet.

On their job listing page, they will come at an academic talk might appreciate a joke, they sometimes describe it as a kid.

[citruseungkwan]

i tripped in front of boo seungkwan

Diamond Edge NYC

AUG 27 2017

@citruseungkwan

Remember how I wrote that thread about meeting SVT right after the diamond edge concert? It was a scrambled mess so here comes the full in depth version.

Also, I was kind of afraid to share some of the more detailed events with people outside of my personal friends so this will be my first time going all in on the experience. If you don’t like something you read here, don’t blame me for it. I’m sure each and every person at fanmeet gets a different experience with the boys so please don’t get angry if my experiences were different than yours.

I didn’t proofread this so just hope for the best. 

I’m not the type to wait outside all day before a concert because I get mad heatsick so I just wandered into the back of the VIP line about 2 hours before the show. I made friends with some girls from the same state as me in the literal back of the line. When the VIP line started moving into the venue to meet the boys, we were really the last group of people into the fanmeeting. I think it’s actually good that we were the literal last 5 people because we could kind of take our time more and we weren’t rushed.

Here’s some important details to start with: for a height reference I’m 5’’0. I was wearing a Boo Seungkwan t-shirt, a black mini skirt, black tights, and super high heeled boots. With these shoes I’m about 5’’5 or 5’’6 and all of the boys are still MUCH taller than me. Jihoon is still a full head taller than me in heels.

So we give the ticket right at the door and my friends are too excited about meeting the boys and gossiping about them. I’m the “brave” one so they made me go first, but because they were fooling around I was a few steps ahead of them. Some venue staff comes up to me and puts a high five in the air and says “high five only!” and i’m like anticipating this man to lead me into the meeting room.

There is no meeting room.

Peeking around the corner and somewhat obscured by the wall, the whole line of all thirteen of them are just standing there and WAITING for us. There was no one in front of me and my group because we got held back while ticketing and every single one of them are just standing there and expecting us. My dumbass takes a look at these boys just standing there and waiting patiently and I VISIBLY TAKE A STEP BACK.

I look back to my friends for help and they’re getting held back momentarily by staff. I debate turning around and waiting for them but Minghao is precisely a foot away from me and he’s just smiling. In this moment, I wanted to die. They actually hid them around this corner out of view from ticketing and they’re just standing there to see right when you try to walk by.

Once again, I should mention that I’m dumb as shit and also kind of overdramatic. I should also mention that I just came back from living in Korea a WEEK BEFORE so the first thing out of my dumbass mouth is “오 지금 하고싶지않은데...” This wasn’t meant to be said outloud. It slipped out somehow. Minghao and Vernon are first in line and they clearly hear this and start to laugh in response. I don’t know who else in the line heard it.

At this moment, I was so embarrassed that I didn’t think I could even go on with the rest of the group but I take a real hesitant step towards Minghao and he’s still kind of laughing at what I said ?? I think I made him smile?? If so, that was the best thing I ever achieved so far.

I’m still shocked at them being right there and appearing so unexpectedly that I’m cautious to move on to Vernon. He’s still grinning at me because he laughed at what I said too, but I think he can see that I’m kinda debating running away so he takes the initiative to greet me first. It was appreciated because all I can really say to him is hi and thank you. All of my thoughts just went to nothing as soon as I saw them to be honest.

I can’t say all the details about each and every members except the ones that interacted with me the most. The general deal with all of them is that they’re all very tall and when they make eye contact their eyes look very soft and friendly. They all have big ass heads and hands. Some of the boys come off much more open while some are only professional. I think all of the boys that I have stories with here are all super interested in interacting with fans.

As for a little note about me, I had to work as a event translator for some guests before in the past. Around famous people I try to act as calm and casual as possible because I generally think all of the screaming and crying is appreciated but rather uncomfortable. Instead of looking at you as a friend, they will only put you in the fanzone. I make sure to keep my cool and gently touch hands with them during the hi-touch. I tell each and every one of the boys a simple greeting and then thank them. That’s all I could really manage.

But maybe I was being a little too gentle.

This is where things started to go a little wrong.

I interact with Junhui, Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Jihoon in a pretty casual manner with nothing really mentionable happening other than what’s mentioned above. I do want to say that Seungcheol’s eyes literally look so fucking kind when he makes eye contact like how does he even do that.

Soonyoung is next in line.

I move in front of him and ever so carefully put my hand against his for the SOFTEST hi-five in existence probably. Before I can even get a simple hello out to this boy, he leans over the guard fence all into my personal space and comes RIGHT UP INTO my face. I’m talking about if he had come about 3 inches closer we would be practically touching foreheads. Now I have a whole face full of Soonyoung and I didn’t even ask for this? ? I mean, it’s not that I mind but I would have liked to have some sort of warning first. Soonyoung proceeds to do that super cute thing where he scrunches up his eyes and makes little eye smiles and giggles for some reason. I feel like he’s testing me? ? He mumbles the SOFTEST “pretty…” in the cutest accented English and I can’t even react to this so I just smile like a dumbass and move onto the next.

Seokmin is next to him. Seokmin decides that he can lean in close as well. He doesn’t lean in disrespectfully close, but probably if Soonyoung left 3 inches of space he was like 5 inches away. This is still too close for comfort but I don’t exactly hate it. Seokmin just decides to laugh sort of in the same manner as Soonyoung but he’s smiling very big and happy. He seems much more joking than Soon, almost as if he’s copying his actions just to be funny which makes me think this was a PLAN.

Were they trying to play around with me because I was being a little too calm and gentle? Is this a prank? After hours of countless discussions and theories, my friends have decided on my behalf that this was definitely A SET UP.

I meet a few more of the boys without any major accidents or mistakes. That’s until Boo Seungkwan shows up.

Remember how I said there was a metal gate between the fans and the boys? This is where it comes into play.

I’m about to take a step in order to move onto Seungkwan next. Seungkwan mumbles something all too quietly under his breath in English. He didn’t seem confident in speaking English or something so I thought he was just being shy or something. But then he repeats himself a little louder and says “Be careful…”

It’s too late. I take my high heeled dumbass self and literally trip over part of the metal gate that’s on the ground right in front of him. I didn’t fall on the ground or stagger or anything but I clearly had to like jump over the little piece of metal gate to like steady myself. Somehow in between all of this my hand went to touch his for the hi-five (I must have done it before I stepped to him?) but I felt his fingers grip onto mine like just to make sure I don’t fall. Even though I like fixed myself and was clearly not going to fall after all, Seungkwan kept his fingers like gripping over my own and looked all the way down to the ground and to my shoes and all over my legs to make sure I didn’t hurt myself. He asks if I’m okay in English TWICE but all I can say is “thanks i love u”. I don’t think he even heard it because he was trying to like still make sure I was okay??

Even when I went to move over to Chan next, his finger was like still gripping over mine and he looked me dead in the eye, smiled all fuckin sweet, and said the smallest little “be safe.”

Thank you for saving me, Boo Seungkwan.

Also his shoulders are really broad. Like you could dive into them. If I happen to fall in front of Seungkwan again, it would be nice if they could catch me instead.

ONTO THE NEXT ONE.

While Seungkwan was still checking if I was okay, I stole a glance at Chan who was next. This motherfucker right here. He was smirking at me. Like he saw me practically fall in front of Seungkwan and he was waiting for my sloppy ass to get on and keep the line moving. It was really funny because I would probably do the same thing but I was like a little bit scared to move on to him. As I greeted him and we touched hands he still had this weird little smirk grin on his face. Does he hate me now? ? Not really sure.

The last two were Wonwoo and Mingyu. My friends were a little farther behind me. I noticed this so I thought about slowing down a little bit with them before moving on but there was a staff woman still hurrying me. Either way, Wonwoo was really friendly and held my hand a little longer than necessary which was appreciated. Mingyu was last for everyone and I had already known he would be like the BEST for those last minute interactions. Honestly, he seems so friendly and I was right.

Mingyu also leans in a little bit, but not too much to cause alarm. He’s VERY MUCH BIGGER THAN ME. VERY MUCH. So I think he had to lean down to my level to make proper eye contact anyways. But while he decides to greet me, he lets out this huge breath of air into my area. It’s very warm and generally unwanted, but it’s not a bad smell at least. I would have preferred if he didn’t breathe in my face but it’s whatever. The rest of our interaction involves him holding my hand and shaking it around a little like a kid would. It’s really cute and he’s too friendly for his own good.

Since Mingyu is last, I feel like a lot of people would try to stall at him and try to get like the most out of their time. I want to do that too, but I think since we’re the end of the line they’re probably tired so after my greeting I just say bye to him and standby the opposite side of the wall and wait for my (slow ass) friends. * * I wanted to give him like time to chill so I tried not to look at any of the boys and just wait for my friends and check my phone briefly. But in the awkward interval of time while I wait, Mingyu occasionally looks in my direction everytime that staff woman would come a little close to me. I feel like the staff was starting to get kind of pushy so he was like keeping watch or something like that.

The same staff woman got the last person in line who wasn’t my friend and physically touched them to move them away from Seungcheol and I saw the look on his face. Like honestly, he looked kind of upset that the staff was making the last people in the line rush. As my closest friend behind me was finishing up with Mingyu, the same staff lady touched her and tried to move her away from Mingyu even though she had like one second with him.

My friend was crying (for another reason I’ll get into soon) so I took a step closer to like hug her and Mingyu was watching us on the side for a second. Once the staff woman was out of the way he raised a hand and kinda waved in our direction while frowning, as if he was like apologizing to my friend for that staff for rushing her too fast. He’s really sweet and I really respected him to take his extra second of time and make sure my friend wasn’t upset about it.

After all my friends finished up, we all did like a group hug inside of the venue and we started like exchanging stories of what happened. No one saw me fall in front of Seungkwan so that was good.

** But why was my friend freaking out? This girl is a huge Vernon stan. She came in a Vernon shirt and even put one of his little stickers on her cheek so he could surely see it when they met. I just met this girl like two hours before the show started but honestly, she’s such a sweet girl and shes MAD PRETTY. She doesn’t have a tumblr/twitter and does not like stankpop so I won’t reveal her picture or identity because I just have her personal accounts. She doesn’t know me at this URL either so I don’t want to bring her into it. But apparently what happened was all she could say to Vernon was “hi, i love u” and the FIRST thing HANSOL SAID TO HER WAS “wow you’re really pretty” and SHE DIDNT EVEN ASK FOR HIM TO SAY THAT. HE DID IT ON HIS OWN FUCKIN WILL. And remember how it was supposed to be a hi-five only? My sly ass friend like tried to hold his hand around the hi-five and he LET HER lock fingers with him. HE INVITED THAT SHIT.

According to the other friends behind her, they were trying to move onto Vern from Minghao and he was like genuinely into staring at her so they literally waited for them to stop. LITERALLY HOW LUCKY IS SHE? I WOULD DIE ANYWAYS After we found out what happened we were actually screaming inside the pit so lemme know if u heard that mess.

Thank you for reading this far. I know it was a struggle to get through. Now when I tell you that I fell for Boo Seungkwan, you know what I mean.

[missbemaeve]

THERE’S A NEW WAVE COMING - YSTLC

xviii. hanging with the party

you know life is cruel, life is never kind, don’t make a new story, don’t grab any glory  ( kids in america ; kim wilde )

friday, march sixteenth, nineteen-eighty-four

“so, you don’t remember saying that the spring mixer was going to be a waste of time?” maeve rolled on to her stomach, careful not to wind the curled cord around herself as she struggled to get comfortable on top of her bed. her normally muted voice was soft but amusement still tinged her words.

“i never—“ andie protested half-heartedly. maeve could almost hear her pout but she couldn’t resist teasing her best friend more.

“until a certain boy that you’ve been dating said he was going to go and you decided that you’d be crazy not to?” maeve pushed, a smirk playing on the corners of her mouth. picking a piece of lint from her duvet, she flicked it off and watched it float to land on the cold, hardwood floor.

“i just thought—“ perhaps andie had said that a month earlier but how was she to know that her boyfriend’s parents would force him to go to the mixer for prospective students of elite schools? and what kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn’t accompany him?

“it’s fine, i’ll watch the boys.” maeve finally relented and rolled her eyes, absentmindedly kicking her feet behind her. looking down, she checked her wristwatch. “speaking of which, i guess i need to hop to it. call you later?”

“yes, and remember—“

“andie, i have the index card you gave me with their allergies and emergency numbers. as long as i return them with all of their limbs attached, they’ll be fine. kids can handle a lot more than anyone gives them credit for.” maeve grimaced, glad that her face was hidden behind the waves of the phone line. “i’ll call you and report back when i get home!”

“okay, talk to you later!” leaning over towards her nightstand, maeve stretched her arm to replace the plastic phone on its hook.

she had to be at the wheeler’s in fifteen minutes and andie hadn’t said how long they’d be gone— something about mr. wheeler having to go to indianapolis for work and mrs. wheeler taking their youngest daughter along to do some shopping. rolling from her bed, maeve quickly changed from her pajamas and yanked her unruly curls in to a ponytail before securing them tightly with a silky, green scrunchie that had graced her wrist.

in the bathroom, she brushed her teeth, pacing the cold tile as she counted. rinsing the toothpaste down the sink, she took a moment to take in her dark circle. she hadn’t been sleeping well for quite a long while and the exhaustion had made its home on her pale face. turning the water cold, she splashed some on to her face in an effort to bring some semblance of life to it. after spritzing herself with body splash, she slid on her chucks and tied them tightly. it wasn’t much, but it would do for spending the next several hours corralling four preteen boys and managing their antics.

“be back later! i’m going to babysit for the wheelers!” maeve called on her way out of the house, scrunching her eyes as they were bombarded by the spring, mid-morning sun. it was a balmy day for hawkins in late march. as it happened everytime she spotted the car that she had been given almost three months earlier, a smile grew on her face. sliding on her sunglasses, she quickly pulled out and began the short drive across town. in leiu of putting the top down on the convertible, she had rolled down the windows and turned the radio up.

parking parallel on the road in front of the house, maeve took in the two story, brick and siding home. unlike most other homes in hawkins, it had been built relatively recently. the dark shutters framed the windows whose white curtains had been opened to the sunshine of the day. as she reached the front door, she gave two firm knocks. it was the first time she’d visited the wheeler’s home though she knew nancy and had briefly met her parents in passing. a tall man opened the door, his thick-framed glasses obscured a bit of his face but not enough for maeve to miss his heavily furrowed brow.

“who are you?” he asked, though not unkindly. his tone was flat, although he was waiting to give any inclination of emotion.

“uh, i’m maeve?” her answer sounded more like a question. “maeve standish. i thought andie—“ maeve spoke quickly. andie had said she’d already told the boys’ parents.

“she did!” from behind mr. wheeler appeared his wife. she gave maeve a kind smile as she finished pinning the back of her earring on. “go get your coat, ted.” she gestured for ted to move, with a roll of her eyes, so that maeve could come in to the spacious home. “she called earlier this morning! the boys are downstairs playing that game of their’s— they’ve been at it for days!” as she moved around the foyer, she continued talking to maeve. though she was nice, karen had a sense of coolness that maeve couldn’t help but notice. maeve always was just a little too observant. “i left the house keys and some money, along with what we owe you, so you guys can order pizza for dinner. we should be back before nine or so but i left the numbers of ted’s company in case you need to reach us.” she grabbed her handbag before looking down around waist-height where she expected to see her youngest daughter. spinning in a circle to see if she missed her, karen released a soft sigh. “holly!” though mrs. wheeler’s yell was loud in volume, it held no anger— it was just a call for a child. from the den, a small girl with blonde pigtails toddled out, grasping a plastic doll in one of her chubby fists. karen scooped up her youngest, brushing some stray hair’s from her daughter’s face before planting a soft kiss on her forehead. maeve looked down at the scuffed toes of her shoes, avoiding looking as though she was intruding on the moment between mother and daughter. “mrs. young is also next door in case you need anything.” leaning towards the door that maeve assumed led to the basement, karen gave yet another shout, “we’re leaving boys! be good for maeve!”

“who the hell is maeve!?” a loud voice ascended the stairs, cracking pubescently on the last word. a few other voices chimed in answer, overlapping one another.

maeve had met the boys previously when she’d brought andie a record while babysitting and in passing around town or at benny’s burgers with their respective families.

“language.” mr. wheeler monotoned from just beyond the door, ignoring the question at hand. with a wave and an encouraging smile, karen pulled the front door closed behind them, leaving maeve alone with the four boys. hesitating at the top of the stairs, she had the realization that she was outnumbered. while she’d babysat samuel numerous times, this had the possibility of turning in to a disaster— what sort of trouble could they get in to?

‘trouble?’

swallowing the lump in her throat, it was as though a light bulb blinked on. a smile grew on her face as she descended the stairs quickly, her head up, “hey guys!”

four boys sat surrounding a small, wooden table covered in papers and notebooks scribbled with strategies and information about their drawn out campaign. at her unfamiliar voice, they looked up.

the one with a baseball cap, dustin, backhanded his friend’s shoulder and spat out triumphantly, “i told you it was her!”

lucas sinclair rolled his eyes, mocking him in return as he mussed several of the notebook papers in front of him, “i told you it was her!”

pressing her lips together, she couldn’t quite hide her smile. they were just kids having fun.

“yep, it’s me.” she gave a soft laugh before addressing, each one to ensure she was right. her gaze landed on the boy with longer, black hair that had a soft curl just above his high cheekbones, “so, you’re mike,” her eyes moved to the taller, thinner boy with dark skin who gave a small smile in response, “lucas,” she looked to the boy with curly hair only partially hidden beneath a tricolor ballcap gave a wide grin and raised his hand in a wave, “dustin,” her gaze landed on the smallest boy, slightly mousier than the other but with kind eyes, “and will.” he almost looked surprised that maeve knew who he was. even if he hadn’t gone missing the autumn previously, she would have recognized him from the pictures andie had around her room of the boys— or ‘the party’ as they referred to themselves, according to andie. “so, yeah. i’m maeve. andie had to go to a thing and she asked me to cover so…here i am!”

maeve grinned, making her way over to the couch that had been placed against one of the wood-paneled walls. looking around the room, she took in the organized chaos in stride. tucked away, there was a small blanket fort against one of the walls that had yet to be dismantled. bringing her attention to the boys at hand, she spoke again, “i have a question,” she paused as all of their eyes came to rest on her inquisitively. sitting down and crossing her legs, maeve leaned in, keeping their attention, “what’s something you guys want to do that andie would never let you?” a rogue smirk crossed her face as each boy developed a grin to nearly rival her own at the idea that they could do something that their typical babysitter would never allow.

the four boys’ eyes darted around to one another’s before a barrage of voices flew towards her.

“go swimming in the quarry—”

“drive her car!”

“have any junk food because—”

“watch mtv—“

“or see an r-rated movie!”

the list of activities continued to bombard maeve, the boys’ voices layering over one another’s as they recounted their typical babysitter’s rules. she’d, unknowingly, opened a can of worms that she hadn’t been completely prepared for. to be fair, andrea peterson was certainly the type to run a tight ship and have a plethora of rules for her babysitting charges. “okay— okay, let’s dial it back.” maeve waited patiently for the four boys to fall silent once more before going through their suggestions. “well, it’s way too cold so that’s a no on swimming but maybe over summer! i know for a fact that none of you can drive— especially not stick— so you’re not driving my car either… but a movie? well, that could be in the cards for today.” she grinned, standing. “clean up here and i’ll check the paper to see what’s playing today.”

going back upstairs, maeve looked around the kitchen for the hawkins post before going in to the living room. on the arm of the worn la-z-boy, rested the already flipped through paper. discarding most of the excess, she flicked through the delicate, grey pages until she landed upon the black-text of movie listings for the current week. tracing her finger down the page, she hummed softly to herself before checking her wristwatch. she’d expected more options for a saturday matinee but the small occupancy of the hawk had, of course, let her down. the two screens were showing ‘children of the corn’ and ‘splash,’ both were set to begin in about an hour.  

she’d seen ‘splash’ earlier in the week with alice and she knew that it was the last thing the boys would want to see— a girly, romance movie. over the past week, she’d seen commercials for ‘children of the corn’ and she was less than ecstatic to see that it was the only r-rated film showing at the hawk for the week. horror movies weren’t exactly her favorite but she could at least offer it as an option to the boys.

pausing at the top of the stairs, maeve looked down at the paper again. andie had mentioned, countless times, that will was a sensitive kid and maeve instinctually knew that his disappearance in the fall hadn’t been completely natural. something had been amiss. resting her knuckles against the cool wood of the doorjamb, she leaned through it. “hey will? can you help me with something?” she called down the stairs, chewing on her lower lip as she waited.

light feet scurried up the stairs and will byers stood in front of her. his mousy brown hair fell in to his eyes and he brushed it aside, his eyebrows furrowed and forced his young face to crease in curiousity. “yeah?” his voice was soft.

she gave him a small smile, not wanting him to feel bad or singled out for calling him upstairs alone. she nodded to the living room where he followed her, away from where their voices could travel down the corridor of the stairs to the waiting ears of his friends. he found a spot on the la-z-boy and waited. sitting down on the couch, she crossed her legs, tapping absentmindedly on her calves. “so, andie said you don’t like scary movies but the only r-rated movie at the hawk is ‘children of the corn,’” she grimaced, “but, if you don’t want to see it, i can just pretend that i forgot my id and then we can go see ‘splash’ or go to family video and rent something.” will played with his hands, wringing them as he thought for a moment. he was quiet and introspective and maeve couldn’t help but be reminded of a friend she’d had when she lived in new york.

she was interrupted from her thoughts when will finally spoke, “it’s okay.” his voice was almost hesitant as he shrugged. “that kind of stuff doesn’t really scare me anymore so we can go see it.”

maeve narrowed her gaze, almost jokingly. “you’re not just saying that so you guys don’t have to watch me have a crush on tom hanks, are you?” maeve’s eyes sparkled with mirth.

“no!” he laughed, smiling shyly.

“because, i think—“

at once, three pairs of feet thundered up the stairs.

“what are you guys talking about?” mike was out of breath, brushing some hair off his forehead as he looked between maeve and will. he seemed to be the de-facto leader of the group.

“well, i was going to take a vote on what movie we would go and see but since you’re all up here now, we can vote as a group.” maeve lied easily, noticing will’s silent smile in thanks. picking up the paper, she flipped to the movie schedule and turned it towards the boys. “so, we have two options: ‘splash’,” a collective groan rang through the three remaining boys and maeve couldn’t help but grin. “or ‘children of the corn.’” at once, the boys all begin to shout over top of one another in favor of the latter. rolling up the paper and swatting her other palm, maeve came to stand. “so, it’s decided! ‘children of the corn’ but,” she raised the volume on the last word, waiting until the boys fell silent and came to look at her, “you guys cannot tell andie that i took you to see this, okay? you’re gonna tell her that we rented ‘mr. mom’ and watched that and had pizza. got it?” she raised one of her thick brows, almost daring one of the boys to dissent.

“yeah.”

“crystal clear.”

“got it.”

“cool.”

“good. now, let’s go.” ensuring she had her wallet and the keys that mrs. wheeler had left, she ushered the boys out in to the spring time breeze, locking the door behind them.

“holy shit, is that your’s?” dustin’s voice broke through the tranquilty of the day as his eyes landed on the candy apple red mustang that was parallel parked on the street.

“yep!” she grinned. the bright, sporty car had become a object of pride for the typically discrete girl. “i got it for my birthday a few months ago— it was my grandpa’s.” the fact had spilled from her lips without another thought. she hadn’t told anyone that, not even andie. she paused, exhaling softly. “you guys wanna help me take the top down? it’s nice out.” she smiled, coming to unlock the doors. ducking in to the car, she unclipped the two clamps in the front that would allow the top to come down. “it may be kind of hard to take it down. it’s been too cold so it’s been a while.” placing her hands on her hips, she quickly formulated a plan. “lucas, you and dustin take the passenger side. will, get in the back seat and help guide it back straight. mike, help me with this side.” as the boys got in position, maeve smiled softly to herself. this wasn’t as much of a disaster as she’d anticipated that it could be. “on three? one… two… three! pull.” the four pulled back on the braces and the metal gave a reluctant groan as it slowly gave way to the force. after several moments, they gave up as it only had moved back about a foot.

“is it even gonna work?” lucas gave a skeptical look at the lack of progress.

“well, duh—“ mike chimed in.

“yeah, we can do it! it’s just been a few months.” placing her hands on her hips, maeve remembered the can of wd-40 her uncle had placed under the back seat. “hey, will?” she ducked in to the car. “can you get the can from under the seat and spray right here?” she pointed to the hinges. “on both sides!”

“got it!” he produced the can triumphantly. stepping back out, maeve waiting until she heard the aersolized-spray puff out from its aluminum home. “okay, now what?”

“now, we try again!” exhaling, she shoved the stiff sleeves of her denim jacket up her arms before she grasped the top again and waited for her young charges to follow in suit. “one, two, three.” on the third count, the four began to pull once more and the top gave way, moving back slowly but evenly, despite its resistant creaking, until the interior had been fully exposed to the outside world. “good job, guys!”

“awesome.” dustin sounded in awe of the final evolution of maeve’s car.

“give it up.” she grinned, raising her hand to high-five mike who stood beside her.

as his hand slapped her’s, his eyes narrowed and he grabbed her wrist, pulling it down for a closer look. his jaw was unhinged as his brain struggled to remedy the new information with what he already knew.

“mike—“ maeve yanked her arm from his grasp and rolled down her sleeves but she was too late. the gears in the young man’s head were already turning.

“you know her.” he demanded. he was like a dog without a bone on a mission to find one.

“what are you talking about?” she shook her head, her brows drawn together in a faux confusion as she bit down on the inside of her cheek in an effort to give nothing away with her expression. she grasped the edges of her sleeves, her knuckles turning white. this couldn’t be happening again. too many people knew too much already.

his abrupt change in demeanor had caught the attention of his friends and they quickly made their way over to the commotion.

“what the hell are you talking about, man?” lucas crossed his arms his eyes moving from mike to maeve.

“don’t lie! el had a tattoo just like that.” mike pointed at her right arm that hung limply by her side. she could feel her organs inside clenching. she made eye contact with mike, his height rivaling her own. her jaw clenched tightly, the stress rising steadily in her body. she was careful to give no look of recognition at the name.

“wait, you’re from hawkins lab?” dustin’s eyes were wide, his mouth open.

“i—“ as if something snapped inside her, maeve knew she had to take control of the situation. if they knew about the lab, this was different than she thought. she released the breath that she was unaware that she had been holding, her lungs finally filling with the fresh spring air. “guys, inside now.”

“what about the car—“ will opened the door and stepped out of it, closing it gently behind him.

“asses in the house!“ maeve pointed to the door, her jaw clenched tightly, stopping herself from pushing the thought on to them. “right now!”

at once, she quickly followed the path back to the front door knowing that the boys would follow if they wanted any answers. the plush green grass crushed under each step until she returned back to the paved sidewalk. jamming the key in to the lock, she wiggled it fruitlessly. exhaling, she closed her eyes and took a moment to breathe and still her shaking hands. though they were barely kids, telling them the truth frightened maeve more than she believed it would.

mike had said ‘el.’ there was no doubt that he had mentioned ‘her’ and hawkins lab. the boys obviously knew more than she thought.

turning the key, she pushed through the heavy, white door and held it open. the four boys followed in a quiet line like ducklings following their mother to safety. as soon as the last of them had crossed the threshold, maeve closed the door and turned the deadbolt. she ensured the window in the door was covered with the curtains before following them in to the living room.

“couch.” she commanded, pointing at the plush piece of furniture that rest against the wall, still holding her sleeve taut against her arm. as the boys sat down, still surprisingly silent, maeve crossed her arms and stood in front of them. her eyes slowly trailed over each of them: will wrung his hands fraught with anxiety, mike looked vaguely irritated at being silenced and pushed inside, dustin and lucas shared the same look of slight confusion and intrigue regarding the events that were about to take place.

she felt like she had been dropped in the middle of a thrashing, dark ocean. the waves crashed overhead as she struggled to reorient herself and find the surface so she could breach it. she couldn’t let on that she didn’t already know everything but she couldn’t risk telling them more than what they already knew.

“before i tell you anything, you have to tell me what you already know.” she looked around and spotted a lone, well-loved la-z-boy and took a seat. facing them, she crossed her legs and nodded for them to speak.

the four boys looked between one another in a moment of silence before they all began to speak over one another.

“well, we—“

“last year—“

“we found el—“

“it was—“

maeve held up her hand, effectively silencing all of them. she curled her fingers in to a fist as her hand fell to her lap. “okay, what do you guys know about hawkins lab?”

“they do experiments and shit on people—“ at this, maeve couldn’t stop the slight drop that her jaw gave. they knew? they knew what happened behind those cinderblock walls?

“how in the world—“ she shook her head.

“when will disappeared last year, we went looking for him. we were out around mirkwood and we found this girl—“ lucas began explaining, trying to lay out the facts like a detective.

“her name was…is el. short for eleven.” mike interjected, looking saddened just by the name.

“but she told us that she was from hawkins lab.”

“she has a tattoo on her wrist, just like you.” mike interrupted again as maeve’s opposite hand came to cover her wrist. the numbers felt like they’d been branded in to the skin.

“and she had these powers. she can move stuff with her mind—“

“do you have any powers?” the words came from dustin this time.

maeve elected to ignore the question for now before her attention shifted to the smallest boy who had been mostly silent since re-entering the home. “will?” she prompted him with a gentle nod of her head.

“the demogorgan came from the lab… it got me and it took me to the upside down.” he looked down at his hands, the bangs of his unfortunate bowlcut falling over his face.

at this, maeve was lost. she’d never heard those words before, inside or outside of the laboratory. “the what?”

“it’s this giant, weird looking monster thing and it’s face opened up like—“ at this, dustin held up a closed fist before exploding it and splaying his fingers with a quiet roar. she knew exactly what he was talking about. it was the same monster that had been at the byers’ home when she’d arrived with james. the same monster that steve harrington had beat with a bat and that jonathan and nancy had shot and set fire to. she could still recall the burning smell and the piercing sound it had made at, what she had believed to have been, its demise. at the lack of reaction from her, he continued, “and it has a bunch of teeth…like, have you ever seen a lamprey?”

“and what’s the upside down?” maeve let her eyes trail across the boys, allowing any the opportunity to answer. without a doubt, she believed them. crazier things had happened.

“it’s like, an alternate dimension.” lucas stated.

“like, our world…but wrong.” mike followed, pausing, trying to find more ways to describe the foreign location.

“it’s dark and cold.” will finished.

“but how did you get there?” maeve’s confusion only deepened. there was so much she didn’t know and she wasn’t certain if she wanted to. leaning back in the chair, she ran a hand through her hair.

“el said the lab did something and we think they like…ripped a hole in the universe.” mike explained. her eyes went wide at his declaration. maeve wanted so badly to say that it was impossible; that there was no way that it was even a possibility that those things could happen but she knew it was a lie. her existence alone was unexplainable. “and the demogorgan came here and took will.”

“but how did you come back?” shaking her head, she thought that she knew the bare bone details; andie had told her that he’d been lost in the woods and found by some hikers. the body that had been found in the quarry was beyond recognition but they had assumed it was will because of its stature.

“my mom and chief hopper came and found me. they brought me back.” will was quiet but she could hear the relief in his voice. she knew fear. she’d never been a stranger to it but she couldn’t imagine the fright that had taken hold of him, alone and apart from all that he knew while he struggled to stay alive and look for a way home.

she couldn’t help but note that hopper knew about all of this as well. it made sense that he had only told her what was necessary but she was shaken. there was so much that she had not yet uncovered. she felt like an archaeologist while learning about the events that took place in hawkins, unearthing a piece of information before brushing it off and tucking it away to be protected before moving to the next artifact.

“okay…and who was eleven?” maeve had to pretend that she’d never met the girl or heard the name while in reality, she’d seen her only a week earlier when hopper had been called in to the station during the evening, they’d played a card game and watched television on the old box television.  

“they experimented on her in the lab.” mike’s forlorn voice carried across the room to her. at this, dustin and lucas shared a sad look as they let mike continue. “she helped us find will and…she fought the demogorgan. then she disappeared.” his heartbroken eyes found maeve’s, “did you know her? have you seen her?”

she knew that she couldn’t tell mike the truth. she couldn’t tell him that the girl was only a few miles down the road, hidden away in a cabin in the woods where she was safe and cared for or that maeve saw her every week or so to keep her company. chief hopper had sworn her and james to secrecy.

“no.” she finally said, “no, i’m sorry. i don’t know who she is.” it broke her heart to fracture mike’s further but it had to be done. she couldn’t help but follow quickly, “but, maybe she’s out there somewhere.” she chewed on her lower lip in thought. she could say nothing more without fearing she’d give something away.

“but you’re…from there too?” lucas approached the subject carefully. “from the lab?”

four pairs of eyes landed on her, eagerly awaiting her answer. mike had already spotted the tattoo, there was no use in trying to lie her way out of the conflict.

“yeah…kind of.” she paused, pressing her lips together as she thought about what she could say. they didn’t need to know everything about her; they didn’t need to know anything more than what she’d shown andie or james. rolling up her jacket sleeve, maeve turned her wrist to the light and exposed the three digits that contrasted against the pale skin of her arm. “i was born in new york but my family is from here.” she knew she didn’t want to explain each detail of her familial strife and the years of abuse she’d suffered at the hands of other’s, “the people from the lab took me away when i was around your age and i ran away last october. now i live with my aunt and uncle here in hawkins.”

“so you weren’t born there?” mike asked, fascinated.

“nope.” she shook her head and gave a small shrug. “i was born at mount sinai.”

“but…what can you do?” dustin leaned forward eagerly, his elbows resting on his knees. his wide eyes waited for her response.

it was the question she was least eager to give an answer to.  

“excuse me?” she raised a brow in an attempt at intimidation, hoping he’d retreat from his question.

“like, do you have super strength?” he nodded his head, as if trying to prompt her.

“if i had super strength, do you really think i would have needed to ask for your help with the convertible?” maeve countered, crossing her arms.

“probably not.” dustin acquiesced with a shrug, his mouth twisting to the side in thought.

“well, what is it then?” lucas followed, looking almost as interested as his shorter, curly-haired counterpart. “do you have like laser eyes?”

“or can you teleport!?” will gave a small grin with his question, hoping his answer was correct.

“can you control time?” mike was equally as excited as his peers.

“it’s…” she hesitated, coming to stand before letting out a sigh. “no— nothing that interesting.” she made a face, trying to find a way to best phrase her abilities, “i can make people…think or do things.” she explained lamely.

at their doubtful expressions, she rolled her eyes. as she’d seen with andie, some things were easier illustrated than explained. exhaling, she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to fluidly push a short thought on to the four boys who inhabited the couch. ‘switch spots with each other.’

as if she’d commanded them out loud, the four tweens wordlessly moved and shuffled around before settling back down quickly in to different spots. as the moment passed, they looked at one another, a slight panic-striken elation crossing their faces before their voices toppled over one another.

“holy shit!” dustin exhaled, a grin growing on his face.

“wait— what!?”

“you did that?”

“awesome.” lucas let out in an awe-struck whisper.

“i guess.” she gave a small laugh.

“wait, so it’s like the force?” mike questioned her before coming to his own conclusion with a grin. “you’re like a jedi! like obi-wan!”

“these aren’t the droids you’re looking for!” dustin waved his hand slowly as he quoted the film, a look of false wisdom crossing his juvenile features.

will let out a quiet laugh while lucas rolled his eyes, “that’s stupid.”

maeve paused, contemplating for a moment. “actually… that’s not too far off from the truth.” she exhaled a soft laugh, giving a shrug of her shoulders. she’d never thought about it before even as she’d watched the trilogy of films. “i don’t wield a lightsaber, then again i’ve never tried.” her lips curled in to a mischievous smile at their grins, a feeling of relief washing over her. because the boys had previously had to accept the impossible, maeve deduced that it must have made it easier for them to have done it again. she couldn’t deny that it was a relief to know that other’s, aside from eleven and chief hopper, knew the power contained in the prison-like laboratory. “but,” she raised her voice, falling silent until she had the undivided attention of the party members, “this has to be a secret. no telling jonathan,” she nodded to will, “or nancy,” she turned to mike, “or your parents.” she looked between lucas and dustin before letting her eyes cross all of them. “don’t tell hop or your teachers. and, under no circumstance, should you ever breathe a word of any of this,” she waved her hands about as if the information were tangible, “to andie. okay? absolutely nothing.”

while andie knew the bare bones information about maeve’s powers, she didn’t know about the seedy underbelly of hawkins and its institutions and maeve didn’t want her to ever find out. if she could keep those she loved dearest away from the danger, she could feel as though she were doing something right for once. “promise?” maeve crossed the room and held out her thin pinky finger to the boys who came to stand.

“spit swear?” dustin asked, raising a hand towards his mouth.

“uh, no.” maeve grimaced, “i think a prinky promise is good for now.” she laughed softly at his dejected look. one at a time, she squeezed each of their pinkies with her own. when they stood back, maeve exhaled like a brick had been taken off of her chest and she could finally breathe once more. “so, if we’re done with that, let’s go to the movies!” checking her wrist watch, she noted the time. “we’ll probably only miss the previews!” grabbing the keys and her wallet once more, she walked back to the door, the boys trailing behind her.

stopping short, the train of kids bumped in to one another as she turned to face them. “and what are we gonna tell andie that we did?”

“rented ‘mr. mom.’” the group mumbled, not quite in unison and slightly annoyed with having to repeat the plan that maeve had hatched earlier.

“good. and that’s for you guys’ benefit! because if she ever found out, it would be your asses on the line. not mine.” with a grin, maeve held the door open and ushered the boys out so she could lock it behind them. the four clamored over one another to reach the sporty car, each shouting for shotgun on the way to the theater and back.

after the wheelers had returned in the evening and the kids had split up to return to their respective houses, maeve finally took her own short journey home. she quickly greeted her family and ascended the stairs to her room where she called andie. her friend answered on the second ring as though she’d eagerly been awaiting maeve’s call. as she recounted the events of the day, maeve reasoned that what andie didn’t know, for once, wouldn’t hurt her brilliant best friend.

style inspiration: x

song inspiration: x

[lilreesenerd]

Guardian Archangel

Summary: Turns out your best friend from childhood is really the archangel Gabriel, of all things.

Insp by Imagine from @nothing-but-spn

Warnings: I'm not a good writer

You had never been the extroverted type. I mean, you weren't captain of the sports team extroverted, but you also weren't the kid in the back of the class that said all of 2 words in a week. You kept to yourself because that's what made you feel most content: not the gossiping, fake friends you saw everyone else had. Out of the entire school, there was one guy who wasn't terrible: Gabe.

You two had been best friends for as long as you could remember. You always stuck up for him (being a theater kid wasn't easy for him), and he kept your life interesting. Gabe was always dragging you to a carnival or some obscure coffee shop. The best part about Gabe, though, was that he gave you your space. He knew you needed alone time to recharge. And that was okay with him.

You were smart, but not as smart as you realized. You had been accepted into a private college not far from your hometown on a ridiculous amount of scholarship money, but you weren't quite sure that was the path you wanted. It was the only path you knew, though. Well, besides working at McDonald's or being in your parents' house forever.

"Ms. (Y/L/N)," the professor called on you, knowing you weren't paying any attention.

"Uh," you knew you were in Calculus, but other than that, you hadn't been listening. Your mind scrambled to figure out what the question was as you scanned the room for clues. A question on the board asked to find the derivative of the equation below. Suddenly, you remembered the answer, "5x - 3."

Your professor was unimpressed. "Please pay attention, Ms. (Y/L/N). Finals are approaching, and you need to maintain your grades if you still plan to attend that school." She returned to scribbling derivatives on the blackboard and droning about their importance.

You nodded your head to her back and caught Gabe suppressing a laugh across the room. You stuck your tongue out, an old habit from your younger years that you just couldn’t kick. Gabe always brought out your fun side.

With the professor turned around, Gabe flicked a paper football at you. It landed perfectly on top of your green notebook. Opening it, you read his sprawling yet elegant handwriting, "Since you're so tired, let’s get coffee after class. I found a new spot downtown ;P."

You tried to look annoyed, but those big goofy green eyes of his made you give in, tucking the note into your pocket with a nod.

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

"No way. Frost was a genius!"

"Definitely not. Everything he wrote was either too obvious or too cryptic to be poetry." You took a slow sip of your scalding coffee with 3 sugars, happily goading Gabe into an all-out frenzy.

"Seriously?!" Gabe is livid. Hair awry, face red, and fists clenched. "You're like the smartest person I know, and now I think you're quite possibly the most uncultured!" He slammed his fist on the table, nearly over-turning his double chocolate chip iced mocha with extra chocolate syrup.

You laughed. "Gabe, you're going to need to control your temper if you want to win the debate next week. You have to metaphorically smash the competition, not literally." You remembered the time someone had pushed you over in the hallway while still in middle school, which resulted in Gabe being suspended for a week and the other kid being in the hospital for just as long.

"Hmm," Gabe sat down and took a long drink of his sugary concoction. "Oh," he straightened himself as if remembering something, "bacteria is the only culture some people have." He liked memes and knew you would appreciate the science-related joke.

You choked on your coffee in an attempt to keep it from flying across the table and onto your friend who is practically rolling on the floor with laughter.

While you're recovering from the near-death experience and hacking up a lung in the process, the cute barista smiles at you two from behind the counter. "Hey you should ask her out," you said to your friend who was known to flirt with any breathing female. "She seems nice," you wiggled your eyebrows, "and I'll bet she's domesticated."

"Yeah," Gabe shot the barista a smolder and a wink, nearly causing the woman to swoon right then and there, and said, "she's definitely more domestic than you are."

"Hey now, watch it." You threatened playfully.

The two of you returned to your coffee, reminiscing about your childhood. Catching bugs, wrestling in mud holes, skateboarding down the middle of the street, and eventually graduating to four-wheeling through the woods behind the neighborhood, were some of your most treasured memories. For many years, the two of you would always come home covered in mud, grass, or some odd mixture of the two. By the seventh grade, Gabe was starting to discover a love for theater. He wanted to write, produce, direct, and star in his very own works. You decided on almost the complete opposite. A quiet life on a farm, an honest life, sounded perfect. You had worked on friends' and family's cars for practice whenever you got your own car. You preferred domestic brands like Ford and Chevrolet, and eventually wound up with a pickup truck made the year before you were born. You enjoyed fishing and shooting competitions (you didn't hunt because you had a soft spot for animals, fishing was different, though). The oddity of your person was that you wanted a simple life, but you were so smart that your school advisor kept telling you to be a doctor. Interrupting your thoughts, the barista crept over, refilling your coffee and sliding Gabe a napkin with her number on it.

She left, and Gabe chuckled, bringing you the rest of the way back from memory lane, "There's nothing wrong with you not being totally domestic like cook, sew, have babies kinda thing. You're just...you. And there's no one else like you, so embrace that part of yourself."

"Aw, Gabe, you're making me blush," you mocked and made a pouty face at him.

"Watch it, princess, or I might turn my charm on and render you helpless." He smiled and put on his most suave air. Standing and extending his arm he added, "May I?"

Shaking your head in disbelief, you took one long gulp of your now-too-strong coffee (you hated getting your cup topped-off. It ruined the proportion of sugar to bean) and took his arm. "Where to?"

"Wherever you want to go, (Y\N)."

You laughed. He always knew how to get you to go along with his adventures. "Hmm," you thought a moment, "Fishing." You knew he hated fishing, but you wanted to see if he would go anyway.

"We went fishing last weekend," he whined.

You raised an eyebrow. Your big brown puppy-dog eyes ready to make him give in.

"Fine, fine, I did say wherever you wanted, just put away those weapons of mass destruction,” he teased, referring to your doe eyes, “but I get to pack the cooler."

"Just pack something non-diabetes-inducing for me, Hansel." Gabe had a real sweet-tooth. It was a miracle he didn't have a mouth full of fillings or diabetes.

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

That weekend, the lake was smooth as glass, the perfect sunset reflected as if another world lay beneath its surface. The fish were biting and the mosquitoes weren't: it was destined to be a great day. Until Gabe started snoring, leaned up against the cooler. Snoring is putting it lightly. He was sawing logs with chocolate on the corners of his wide-open mouth, clutching the small cooler with both arms.

You sighed, pushing him off the cooler and onto his stomach, noticing something shiny in his waistband. You cocked your head, wondering what it could be. Maybe a flashlight? Oh well, none of my business.

You fished for two more hours before waking Gabe. "Come on, man. Its not very gentlemanly to leave a girl unattended on an outing," you poked his ribs.

He swatted at your hand, murmuring and mostly asleep.

Unable to wake him conventionally, you went to grab his flashlight, planning to shine it in his eyes. As your fingers brushed the cold metal object, Gabe twisted around, grabbing your wrist, his eyes fully alert.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked harshly and accusingly.

"Chill. I was just trying to wake you up." You raised your hands more nervously than defensively, flexing your calf to make sure the knife was still sheathed at your ankle. Gabe would sometimes do this super-aggressive thing, and honestly? It worried you. You weren't scared, just prepared for the worst, and keeping your breathing level.

"Sorry, (Y/N)," Gabe rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, "you must've woke me up during a bad dream." You tossed him a candy bar, and he started to relax a bit, eyes shifting around the bank.

"That's bologna." You crossed your arms across your chest. "Why are you really on edge? And what's that?" You pointed to the silver object behind Gabe.

He sighed. "Flashlight."

"Show me," you challenged. You had known him as long as you could remember, and right now, he was lying. And he never lied to you. Ever. The one time he did, it was to keep you from seeing your dog that had just been hit by a speeding car. 

"Let's go somewhere else," he said and touched your forehead with two fingers.

One second, you're at the lake, the next, you're back in the coffee shop from before. Before Gabe can start explaining, you have the hunting knife unsheathed and in his face.

"What. The. Heck, Gabe?!" Snarling through bared teeth, you are barely holding it together. How am I in the coffee shop? We were just at the lake.

He scoffed. "Sit down, (Y/N). I have a lot to explain, and you have a lot to learn." He seemed irritated with you and oblivious to the knife in his face.

With your brow creased, you slowly sit down in the booth. Gabe snaps his fingers and a coffee, hot with 3 sugars, is in front of you, and his favorite sugary drink is in front of him. He takes a sip and a faint smile flickers across his face.

"My name is Gabriel, and I'm an angel." He quickly clarified, "An angel of the Lord. No. Not the harp-on-a-cloud type."

You are pretty sure your mouth is hanging open. He just answered the question you were thinking. Thinking. You managed, "Excuse me?"

Gabriela's mouth turns down, "Huh. I figured you'd take that worse than you did. Good job." He took another drink, gesturing for you to do the same.

You do so. It’s actually a really good blend. "Why are you here? I mean, are you on a secret mission or something?"

Gabriel smiles. "Oh, you don't know how right you are, kiddo."

Your head cocked to one side, asking the question for you.

"I'm your guardian angel. Well, I'm a lot of people's guardian angel, I just happen to really like you."

"Me?" You figured you must have fallen asleep at the lake, hit your head, and are now having trauma-induced visions. "I'm not special. Or interesting. Why are you really here?"

Gabe stood and gestured you walk with him. As the two of you wandered down the streets of the small town, he explained everything: Heaven, Hell, monsters, demons, angels, and even God, his dad. Turns out Gabe is really an archangel.

Everything starts to make sense to you: the perfect days when Gabe is with you, how you can remember things when he's around, and so much more. Like getting into your first choice college on a full scholarship.

"So," Gabe was approaching the reason why he was here, "you have a father."

“Well yeah, he died when I was little."

Gabe raises an eyebrow and smiles.

You are exasperated. “Oh come on, Gabe, that’s not funny.”

"Have I ever lied to you?" You didn't answer. He never had, not when it mattered. He always had your best interests at heart. "Exactly. Now listen, you have a father and two brothers who don't know you. Technically, there's a third, but no one knows about him yet either. They hunt these monsters and things, and they could use your help."

[raendown]

Chapter 61

The latest request for the Soulmate Collection actually gave me both the pairing and the au and I realized that even in a modern universe my favorite way to write the Akatsuki is as a gang of criminals. xD

Under the cut or on AO3!

Pairing: SasoriDeidara Soulmate au: The one where each person has a piece of clay that changes shape and color to reflect their soulmate's emotions

Sasori hated that stupid piece of clay. He’d been born with it clenched in his fist the same as everybody else had and he hadn’t hated it then. No, he had learned to hate it in the orphanage. He learned to hate it when his life was darkness and misery and that stupid lump of clay would mold itself into a boy caught mid-run, a child leaping for joy, always colored with happy shades of fun, excitement, amusement. Whoever his soulmate was they were having the time of their life and here he was, stuck in some dark hole with a Matron who hated him and fellow children who mocked him for sleeping with a doll.

So yes, Sasori hated that stupid lump of clay. He never understood why he couldn’t simply leave it behind. He should have shoved it in a closet somewhere, hidden it under the floorboards like so many other angry orphans. Instead it sat at his bedside. When he turned eighteen and aged out, Sasori found himself a crappy job and a dirt-cheap apartment and set his lump of clay at his bedside. Lately it had begun to take on the shapes of small bags or little clocks. What those two things had in common he had no clue but they still appeared in shades of amusement and excitement. He still hated it.

There were days he would come home to find his clay shaped like a reaching hand, colored for longing and wistfulness. On his own worst days the clay would shape itself in to a smiling face and assume the colors of comfort. He supposed that, somewhere, his soulmate must be seeing his own emotions and trying to comfort him in what small ways they could. He would only ever scowl. What did they know of sadness, this happy person who had never gone a full day without producing the colors of joy?

He was twenty-one years old when Sasori found himself someone mixed up with the wrong side of the law.

His shitty job earned him shitty pay and he could afford very little other than groceries. But for the last three weeks he had been working overtime, picking up shifts for a coworker who had gone on vacation. Today he had just a little bit extra money and he knew just what he wanted to do with it: put it in the bank! There was nothing better than knowing he had money in the bank, in that savings account that sometimes almost closed by default because it had been empty for too long. He was excited to finally have something to put in it and hoped he would have enough money to not need to touch it for at least a few months.

Sasori had deposited his precious extra money and was making his way through the atrium when an explosion went off, rocking the ground beneath his feet and sending him tumbling to the floor.

The next thing he knew he was being used as a hostage, long blonde hair obscuring his vision as someone wrapped their arm around his neck and leaned over him to shout at the tellers. Hysterically, his mind noted that this person had a rather pleasant voice. He was terrified when they decided to take him along to use as a human shield, insurance so the cops won’t follow them. Sasori is a human being and the police won’t shoot if he’s in the line of fire. But he is also a good-for-nothing nobody and they weren’t going to put much effort in to finding him. Sasori wondered if his captors knew just how lucky they were to choose the perfect hostage.

They released him inside their van, allowed him to scuttle back in to one corner and huddle there to watch them with terrified eyes. He was flabbergasted to see that the blonde one who had captured him was no older than himself. He was grinning widely, tossing a plastic wrapped package back and forth. One of the other ones waved their hands in the air frantically.

“Deidara! Stop playing with that!” the girl snapped. The blonde young man laughed derisively.

“It’s fine, right? I’m the expert on making things go boom and, believe me, I have no interest in going boom myself.” He tossed the package up in the air, catching it with the same hand. “This isn’t even armed anyway.”

Sasori brought his knees up closer to the rest of his body, just hoping that they would continue to ignore him and wondering if this ragtag bunch of idiots even had a plan for what they were going to do with him. That Deidara guy seemed like the loose cannon type, the one who would make things up as he going along. They probably hadn’t even planned on taking a hostage.

His supposition is proved correct when they arrive at an abandoned building turned hideout to be greeted by a giant man with gills tattooed on the sides of his neck and more piercings than should really be necessary. He was also wearing a dark scowl as they all piled out of the van.

“What the fuck? Deidara can you not control yourself? You took a fucking hostage! And you brought him back here with you!?” The man’s voice was a harsh growl and he seemed like he really wanted to take a huge bite out of the blonde guy with those over-sharp teeth that flashed inside his mouth. The only thing that appeared to be holding him back was the hand on his leg, another man languishing on a nearby couch, calmly watching television while his arm reached out to absentmindedly stroke down Sharp Tooth’s calf.

“Screw you, un!” Deidara glared but wasted no energy defending himself, only looked away to finally pay attention to the person whose life he had just turned upside down. “Hm. What to do with you now.”

Sasori was honestly starting to worry about his own brain because the only thing that flashed across his mind right then was that he hoped he would get home in time for his next shift. Missing shifts meant losing money and he did not work that hard just to use up his precious savings the very next month because these idiots kept him from making enough to cover his bills.

More people wandered their way in to the room and soon Sasori found himself on the edge of what looked like a large family debate, his fate being the subject in discussion. There was only one woman in the whole group and she looked more harried than any of the rest of them. Sasori couldn’t tell if it was the one with the orange hair who was in change or if it was the one wearing a weird orange mask but orange was definitely the color of leadership here. Eventually those two seemed to come to the decision that Deidara brought them the problem (he really didn’t appreciate being referred to as a problem) so Deidara should be the one to take care of him (like he was some sort of pet).

He managed to hold his tongue as he was led away by a grumbling blond. The building they were in appeared to be an old warehouse of some kind, repurposed in to a base for nefarious purposes. The hallways were short and complicated and he lost track of how many turns they took before he found himself closed in to a messy bedroom, standing awkwardly by the door while Deidara flopped on the bed.

“Make yourself at home, un,” Deidara offered magnanimously. Sasori blinked and looked around.

There were posters on the wall and strange tools on a desk in the corner. Bits of wire and tubing and things he didn’t know how to properly identify sat in organized containers, at direct odds with the state of chaos the rest of the room was in. Clothes hung out of a short dresser shoved against the far wall and gathered in piles on the floor. The top of the dresser was completely cleared off but for a familiar lump of clay, currently shaped like a cat sniffing its surroundings and shaded with the colors of curiosity and caution.

Sasori stopped dead, staring at the clay which seemed to call for him, beckoning to him on a frequency only he could hear. As he watched the cat disappeared, replaced instead with a wooden doll standing stiffly upright and fading in to the color of shock. Impossible. Deidara hadn’t been paying very much attention to him but his head shot up when Sasori moved forward, hand reaching out to touch the clay.

“Hey!” the blond shouted. “Don’t touch that!”

“But it’s mine!”

“Are you stupid? That’s mine!”

“No, I mean–” Sasori fumbled for words, Deidara’s hand pressed to his chest to keep him at a respectable distance. “I mean that it’s for me. It represents me. I mean that I think I’m your–”

“Soulmate,” Deidara finished for him.

The two of them stood there staring at each other, Deidara blinking owlishly before squinting at him like he thought he might be lying. Sasori only stared back in wonder.

“You think you’re my soulmate.” For a moment Sasori feared the other might not believe him, then suddenly Deidara’s face lit up with a brilliant smile. “That’s so cool, un! What’s your name? Where are you from? Do you wanna stay?”

“Stay?”

“Yeah, stay here with us. The Akatsuki’s great. They picked me up off the streets when I was really little and they let me blow stuff up all the time. It’s awesome!”

He was being offered a home, he realized, a place to come home to and people to belong with. Sasori thought about his shitty apartment and his shitty job, alone in some shitty corner of their broken city. He looked around the room, seeing Deidara’s poorly kept but high quality things. Then he looked at the lump of clay, hesitant but hopeful. When he smiled he watched it light up with the colors of peace and happiness, taking on the shape of a tiny little house. A home.

“That sounds nice,” he said.

Deidara threw one arm around his shoulders and started talking a mile a minute about how they can find out what he’s good at and what he likes to do so that he can contribute to the Akatsuki in whatever way makes him happy.

Sasori let him talk, the smile on his face feeling new and foreign, and made a mental note that he would need to stop by the apartment and pick up his stupid lump of clay. He can’t imagine being without it, just as he suddenly can’t imagine being without Deidara.

[how-could-i-do-this]

Between the Stacks (John Laurens x Reader)

Pairing: Laurens x Reader

Summary: Yet another college AU, because I write what I know. Mostly fluff at this point.  Reader is Peggy’s roommate.

A/N: ???? I dunno, what do you guys think?

The library was almost dead. Friday night was not usually the time you would choose to study, but this paper was important.  For your grades, yes, but also for your pride. You wanted your professor to write a letter of recommendation for an internship, and she had high standards.  The topic you had chosen necessitated lots of research, and you were just about ready to start writing. You picked out three books that you thought would support your thesis, and sat down in the aisle to flip through them.

Someone moved on the other side of the bookshelf, and you had to stop yourself from shouting.  The books in your lap had been obscuring a curly head of hair.  Whoever it was looked to be deep in focus, so you kept quiet, gathering information. When you were ready to move to a table, you peeked around the corner at the stranger.  He was not focusing. He was sleeping.  

“Really, dude?!” You must’ve spoken louder than you intended, because he woke up, the pages of the book he had been resting on sticking to his face.  

“What time is it?” He checked his wrist, and, realizing he was not wearing a watch, looked at you expectantly.

You suppressed a giggle. “It’s 11:00.”

“At night?” He scrambled up, shoving his notes into a backpack that, by the looks of it, had a collective total of one strap and one zipper.

“Why are you so worried?” You found yourself fascinated. Maybe it was because he was the only other person around, or maybe it was because his freckles were the cutest things you had ever seen, but you wanted to know more.

He stopped. “Actually, I don’t have anywhere to be. I think I’ve been here since noon.” His stomach grumbled loudly. “Yeah, probably noon.”

You smiled. “You’d better eat something. I study better on a full stomach.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks…”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated contemplatively, “that’s a beautiful name.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you shrugged and tried not to blush.  When you didn’t respond, he nodded and headed out.  

What a strange guy.  

Finals crept up on you slowly, then all at once.  You spent an inordinate amount of time in the library, telling yourself it was a better place to work. Of course, you couldn’t deny that you kept an eye out for the sleeping stranger. But you were definitely there for work. Mostly.

Your studying paid off, your professor promised a letter of recommendation, and you were finally ready to let loose. The largest frat on campus was having a party the day before break, and your roommate Peggy was dragging you along.  She wouldn’t accept anything less than the shortest dress you owned, despite the fact that it was the dead of winter.

“You’ll warm up once we get there,” she promised.  

You certainly felt warm once you knocked back the shots Peggy had placed on your desk while you were doing your hair. She was on the phone with her sister, updating her on the events of the week.  She hung up as you stood and moved to put on your coat.

“How is Eliza?”

Peggy shrugged. “She’s okay. Alexander’s living with her again.”

You rolled your eyes. Peggy had told you all about him. Eliza had been in your room when you arrived, unpacking boxes.  She was one of the sweetest people you knew, and even though she was far away you felt protective of her.  Peggy had been upset when she couldn’t be there to comfort Eliza, but they had worked together to make lots of silly videos to cheer her up. They had even tried to make cookies, but the dorm oven was so old that it burnt them to a crisp.  When you had sent photos of the blackened blobs, Angelica had assured them that someone named Thomas was making sure they were well-fed.

“You get to see her soon though, right? She’s coming home for break?”

“Yeah. We’re picking Angelica up at the airport together.” She locked the door behind you, pinning her key to her bra strap.

The house was already full when you arrived, and you held on to Peggy’s hand as she wove her way through to the kitchen. She was good friends with a few of the members, and came to almost every party, so she was greeted with cheers and offers of drinks. You gladly accepted a cup, tapping your glass to Peggy’s and chugging it.  

As someone was refilling your cup, you heard Peggy yell, “John!” She ran over and wrapped her arms around his neck excitedly.

“Hey, you’re the guy from the library,” you said, trying hard to sound casual.

“You know each other?” Peggy beamed, looking between the two of you.

“Yeah, Y/N here saved me from permanent neck injury.” Peggy’s eyebrows shot up, and he clarified, “I fell asleep in a weird position, for like, a long time, and she got me up before it was too late.”

“In the library, nonetheless,” you finished, smiling up at him.  His hair was pulled back into a bun and his face was flushed from drinking, and he couldn’t have looked more beautiful if he tried.  

“So, your name is John,” you said as Peggy left. “We were never properly introduced.”

He held out his hand to shake. “John Laurens. I live here,” he gestured upstairs. “I just transferred here this year, and the guys were nice enough to help me find a place to stay.”

“Looks like it’s the place to be.”

He laughed. “It sure is.”

“Laurens,” a voice yelled from the other room, “we need you on our team, now!”

“Duty calls. I’ll find you after, yeah?”  You nodded, watching him go. He was good from the back too.

You turned to find Peggy, and saw her across the room, her tongue down the throat of a stunning brunette, hands on her ass. She did have a type.  Resigning yourself to the fact that Peggy would not be coming home that night, you poured and extra strong drink and went off to find John’s beer pong game.

“This is it. We can do this.” John looked his partner in the eye. “Do not blow this for us.”

You watched as they threw their balls at the exact same time, landing in the only two cups left. The crowd around them cheered, and the music hit a fever pitch.  John spotted you, striding over with the confidence of someone who had just closed a billion-dollar business deal.

“Not to brag, but we just made house history.” He spread his arms wide, high-fiving the people around you.

“I don’t know how to deal with being in the presence of such greatness,” you mocked, placing your hand on his chest.

He wrapped his hand around your own, holding it steady. “A dance would be enough.” He led you to the mass of people in his living room, placing his hands on your hips. You finished your drink and put your cup on a side table, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You’re surprisingly sober for what I’ve seen you drink,” he mused, his hands drifting to your ass.

You nodded, playing with the tiny hairs that drifted out of his bun. “I can hold my own.”

“Can you now?” His eyes twinkled, and you stepped closer, pressing your bodies together, meeting his challenge. He leaned down, lips ghosting yours.

You heard the telltale sound of retching. It was John’s beer pong partner, and he was being held up by two of the frat brothers.  John gave you an apologetic look.

“I know it’s a long shot, but if you want some peace and quiet my room is upstairs, third on the left.” His hands left your ass, rushing to help get his friend out the back door. Without John, the makeshift dance floor was not very appealing since you were not drunk enough to find many of the guys attractive.

You checked your phone. A few texts from Peggy, all assuring you she was safe and sound. A few more graphic than others, but you were used to it. Once you had exhausted all your social media, you sighed.  Why the fuck not, you thought, climbing the stairs.

John’s room was sparsely decorated, but he had a huge rug in the middle. The lighting was almost too nice. You looked up.

A skylight?

“Really dude?” You said, echoing your words from the library.

“Yeah.” John’s voice came from behind you. “I don’t know how I got this room. Lucky, I guess.”

“How’s your friend?” You sat on the plush rug, running your fingers across it. The alcohol was starting to hit, and you laid all the way down, stretching out.

“He’s fine, but this shirt is toast.” He carefully pulled it off his body, giving you a glimpse of his chest. You glanced away, but not fast enough for him to miss the look on your face. Smirking, he grabbed a sweatshirt and laid down next to you.

It started to snow, obscuring your view through the skylight.  John grabbed a bottle of rum off the top of a tower of books, offering it to you.  You took a swig.

“I wouldn’t peg you as a frat guy,” you said, gesturing to the notes scattered on his desk.

“Hey, rude.” He tried to look offended, but cracked a smile.

“Okay, but not this frat in particular. They’re not known for being the most intelligent. I mean, you did fall asleep in the library, but I figured it wasn’t from boredom.”

“Someone’s got to keep them in line. We have study sessions on Thursdays.” You raised your eyebrows questioningly.  “…then we drink,” he admitted. You laughed louder than you had intended, quickly covering your mouth in shock. John seemed to find this hilarious, and passed you the rum again.

“Your laugh is amazing.” You were thankful that your face was already flushed from drinking, because you couldn’t stop the blush that crept up your cheeks. A small giggle escaped you, but you didn’t try to stop it.  John tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “What’s this about being able to hold your own?”

You punched him in the arm. “I don’t usually leave the party for long enough to let it hit me. I’m careful. My guard comes down when I’m back in my own room.”

His face fell. “I can’t say I understand, but I hope that our house is at least a safe place for you and your friends.” He rolled onto his back and looked at the stars.  

You placed your hand in his, letting out a sigh.  “If you want to talk about privilege, we can. But I was referring to my ability to keep myself together at someone else’s house.  I refuse to earn a reputation for getting shitty and ruining parties.”  He was silent for a while, and you could tell something was still bothering him, but you found yourself too tired to dig deeper. Scooting closer, you leaned your head against his shoulder.  His body relaxed, and you smiled.

“I just worry. Some of the guys at my old college were awful.” He seemed to shake himself. “But all my brothers are great, if a little thick.”

You nodded, yawning. John got up and you made a noise of protest, missing his warmth.

The last thing you remembered before drifting off to sleep was pillow being tucked under your head and a soft blanket being pulled over your body.

[humanoid-lovers]

Big Book Lots Of Fun! I actually bought this for my husband's birthday and he loved it. We laughed for hours at some of the truly bizarre super heroes from comics of the past. Some I would never have believed were real and not a joke if I hadn't seen it. There is a lot in this book, many characters and info and anyone into comics, art or retro kitsch would like it. Arrived fast and in fine shape. Would love to see more of this type of thing. Go to Amazon

Kindle Fire Version Note The Kindle Fire version is formatted to zoom in on the comic panels. Just zoom in & expand them with your fingers. I loved the first book on regrettable heroes. This one looks just as good. Go to Amazon

Five Stars Perfect gift Go to Amazon

Great and funny historical reference. This is what I would call a "Bathroom Book" or maybe a coffee table book. You could burn out quickly trying to read it in one setting. I don't imagine it was planned for that anyway. It's best left somewhere you can occasionally grab it and read about a few characters, put it down and then come back again later to read a few more. It looks like a giant comic book and the cover is designed to appear a bit tattered like a well read one- but it's not. People seeing it on a table will be drawn to it. Go to Amazon

Nice, obscure The Legion of Regrettable Supervillians, by Jon Morris, is a great book in my opinion because it touches on some interestingly bad characters. An issue the book runs into, however, is the fact that it does lean toward the more obscure characters out there. A guy who wrangles roaches? A person dressed up like a preying mantis? They are in there. Will the average comic reader know them? Probably not. Still, I personally do not think it hurts the book as long as you know this. Go to Amazon

Fun look at some by-gone hilarious attempts at Super Villains I was so taken with this book of comic super villains, I purchased several copies to give as gifts. I also purchased the “hero” book in this series as well. I think that giving both books makes for a great history of some (not so) lamented comic book characters of the past. Go to Amazon

Hilarious + Comic History This is a follow-up to The League of Regrettable Supervillians. It is both funny and a walk down comic book history lane. Morris explains succinctly in usually one page, a text summary of the broadly "regrettable" supervillain, then there are 1-4 pages of full color reproductions of that comic to read and experience. The summary page also tells who the enemy is, who created the comic, publisher information, if there is another similar character, and sometimes a tidbit of other silly information. Go to Amazon

Fun Book! ... a Birthday gift to a writer friend and he loved it. Witty and great art work Five Stars Five Stars This book is so funny! It's very interesting to learn about what people ... Five Stars Five Stars A Fine Sequel. Very creative. Loads of fun. Legion of Regrettable Supervillains....