#so even though it hurts that she isnt as ''pleasant'' with me i understand that its bc she trusts me the most

[rucow]

my mom and i both have pisces sun/mars/mercury/saturn in 8H, scorpio IC, and aquarius venus in 6H.....astrology is insane 🫣

[sunflowersunshinevol6]

Hello Harry

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!OC

Warnings: smut, cheating, prostitution, blowjobs

Summary: Camille's been cheating. But with who

Harry knows she's having an affair; the question is, with who?

Could be Jake from the yoga studio, maybe her manager or even one of her friends...

Harry is so fucked up.

He hates this, hates thinking about it and feeling jealous and the caveman bullshit that's driving him insane. But he knows Camille is cheating on him, he's found the texts on her phone 'contact unlisted' all about meetings and hotels. They're not exactly the sexiest but then, Camille isn't stupid – deniability is probably something she'd want. Then there's the scent of unfamiliar perfume that hangs to the clothes she dumps in the laundry basket, too deeply ingrained to be anything other than contact with another person. She's picked up a few tricks too, bendy and amazing as she is, she was not a pro when it came to giving head. He wasnt mad of course, it's not the kind of thing that's a deal breaker. He just didn't ask for it and she only volunteered when she felt she needed too. But now....

She'd gotten good at it, great even.

Harry wondered where the hell that had come from.

It made it harder for him to want her when he couldn't kiss her without thinking about her mouth around some one else's dick.

So he keeps checking her phone. Ignored the occasional looks she gives him in the evenings when they're cocooned on the sofa, watching the same rom coms over and over again. The looks that say ' Why do you keep moving away from me? You dont want me anymore?' She actually looks hurt. Sometimes he wonders if it's all in his mind.

Then the text comes through, he reads it and deletes it without letting her see it. Then he hides her phone in his studio, some place she wouldn't look.

'Wednsday. Apartment 216. Same time.'

Harry has a few options here, he could have let her read the text, then followed her. He could go to the apartment and check out who lives there. Or he could go for the knee jerk reaction – find the apartment and beat the hell out of the other guy.

Sane? Probably not. But more than anything Harry wants it to be a mistake, all in his mind. He loves her. He really does. And he isnt sure he can handle it if everything really is a lie.

He drives across town wishing that he wasn't 'that guy' the one who didn't just man up and ask his girlfriend what was wrong. No, he's the guy who'll deny everything and push it down until he can't hide from it anymore – he has to find out what's been going on, has to make himself believe it.

The apartment building is moderately nice, clean and modern with an entry phone and lots of chrome and exposed brick. It's in a nice enough neighborhood. Harry pulls up and buzzes the right apartment. A women's voice comes over the intercom taking him by surprise.

"Hello?"

Harry hasn't really thought this through, what does he say? Especially since he had expected a man to answer not a woman. Is she in a three way? He closes his eyes and swallows, playing for time as he works something out.

"Yeah...Hi, I guess I'm here to see you." He flinches at how lame that sounds. "I want to..."

The door buzzes open.

"It's alright. Come on up." The voice is pleasant, gentle. Almost as though she is trying to soothe him, which does not do wonders for Harry's mood. He's so confused. What the hell is he doing.

He mounts the stairs and reaches the apartment door as it opens. A small petite girl around 5'2 opens the door, a kind smile on her face. Harry takes her in, taken by surprise at how gentle she looks. She has long dark hair and bright blue eyes that look at him with amusement, a kind smile on her plump pink lips.

"So...you want to come in?" her voice is light, calm and nonchalant.

He can't judge himself against this stranger, can't quite work out if Camille is maybe bisexual or if it's all in his head.

"Yeah" he follows her slim, retreating back into the apartment. "You don't seem surprised that I'm here." Harry says, finally, as they reach the living room, there's a huge L shaped couch dominating the space and she gestures for him to sit.

"Should I be?" her manner is still easy, formal but not guarded, like she couldn't lie if she tried. Harry hates it, but then, maybe she has no idea that Camille is taken. Maybe she doesn't even know her name. She seems to catch Harry's assumption that she should be surprised and shrugs.

"I was expecting someone else...a mix-up on my part." She settles onto the couch easily, jean clad legs falling carelessly open, hands resting in her lap.

Neither of them speak.

"You seem nervous." She says eventually, smiling and leaning forwards, arms resting on her knees.

"I'm not...I'm not even sure why I'm here." It comes out gruffer than he intended, less confrontational, more hopeless. "so how can I be nervous?"

"Well you must know why you're here...what is it you want to ask me?" her head tilts, exposing the side of her neck, her pulse fluttering. Harry teeters on the edge, not wanting to ask – not wanting to know. Wishing he could go back home to his two bedroom house and listen to one of Camille's modeling stories, curled against her side in the warmth of their bed.

He can't, it would kill him to leave now.

He's about to speak when the girl's eyes narrow, lids lowering with shyness.

"Or...I'm sorry, usually I..." she looks up at Harry then, mouth twisting with self deprecating awkwardness. "I tend to negotiate...terms...upfront." Composure slips back into place.

Harry officially doesn't get her.

"You mean..." he has no idea how to finish that sentence, but fortunately the girl is now sitting next to him taking it as a prompt.

"Payment" she inclines her head delicately.

"For..."

Her blue eyes narrow as if she senses that they're not having the same conversation – finally. She leans back on the sofa, a politely confused look gracing her features.

"Who are you, exactly?" She asks, curiously.

"I'm...Camille's boyfriend." Harry says carefully. "I came here..." he breaks off and starts again with more strength in his voice. "Look, I know you've been texting my girlfriend, and, meeting her in hotels and today she was meant to come here." He gestures at the blue walls that surround them. "so I came here to find out..."

"Oh God." She seems genuinely horrified now, looking down at the floor and her own bare feet.

"...Find out that my girl's been having an affair." Harry feels like the all the air in the room is leaving and he can't breathe. "Did you know about me or did she never mention..."

"My clients don't tend to tell me much about themselves." She looks at him cautiously, sadness warring with anxiousness on her face.

"Clients." Harry repeats, dumbly. Because he was expecting the worst, and this was not it, the bottom falls out of his nightmare and he realises how much more he had to lose.

"I..." she looks suddenly frozen with realisation and what's worse...pity. "Mr..." she realises she doesn't know his name, falters and then proceeds anyway. "I'm sorry for what you're going through...my relationship with your, girlfriend...was a professional one, a transaction." She almost winces as she says, "I'm an escort."

Harry is motionless for about a minute and a half.

"You're a hooker." He finally says, flinching when he realizes how harsh the words came out.

"I prefer..." she stumbles, a light blush flushing her cheeks. "yes. Yes I am." She sighs. "I apologise....I thought..."

"You thought I was a 'client'" Harry can barely keep the shock out of his voice. Camille has paid this woman for sex. He feels empty, his head throbs with anger and pain and right now he just needs something, someone to hurt "Great, so my girlfriend buys sex from you...when I'm sitting at home or on the road." Harry can feel rage fogging his brain, making his temples ache with frustration.

"Look...I know this isn't the easiest situation...but this isn't really a conversation you need to have with me." Her voice is annoyingly firm and calm. But she does has a point, Harry has to admit, Camille paid her for whatever they did – it's not like she chose her or wanted her. It was just her job.

Another thought hits him – one he really wishes he hadn't had.

"What did she want you to do?"

Her face closes down.

"I don't think...I really don't think that would be productive."

"Screw productive!" Harry suddenly shouts, startling her and making her jump nervously. "I want...I need" his voice breaks, his breath too sharp for his chest. "I have to know."

"It won't help." She says softly.

"I know...but I need to..." Harry is stuck, he can't explain it, so he just looks to her, trying to communicate the misery he feels.

"I..." she swallows, looking down at her hands. "It was just...some advice on...uh...technique." a slight flush creeps up her neck.

"On?" his voice is strained.

"Oral sex." It's almost an apology. "There was no...she didn't participate, I told her a few...tricks....we never did anything. She just wanted advice."

And he can't...he just can't. There's nothing to think that won't hurt. That Camille paid some woman...a hooker to teach her tricks. For him? Or for someone else? He doesnt know anymore.

"How much?" he hears himself ask, numbly.

Her head shoots up, looking at him carefully.

"I don't think..."

"How. Much?" he grates out. He feels bad, so so bad, and right now he just wants to feel out of it, he can't even call it feeling good. He wants to feel...nothing.

"I don't think" the woman, the whore, continues doggedly. "that would help how your feeling."

" I know...but I want..." he can't articulate it, doesn't want to try. "You need the money or not?"

She blinks sadly, ducks his head, eyes firmly shut against her own opinions. "Fifty."

Harry huffs with humourless laughter, but takes out his wallet and deposits notes on the couch between them. She takes them and folds them slowly, slipping them into the pocket of her jeans.

There's a pause and Harry can feel his heart beating painfully, his body contracting with pain and despair.

"Blow me." He says. She dips her head in understanding and drops to the floor in front of him, kneeling on the carpet. Harry closes his eyes when he feels hands going to work on his fly. He doesn't want to see, or even feel. He already wants this over and done, something else to regret.

Warm breath hits his exposed skin, dick still soft, not that he expected otherwise. Her soft, plush lips move over him and he feels himself stirring at the contact. By the time she's sucking lightly at his head, he's almost fully hard, pushing reluctantly into the contact. Loose open mouthed kisses are pressed over his balls, harsh, excited breath rumpling the crisp hair. Harry lets out an involuntary mumble of appreciation.

The slow, exploratory touches become more of a constant pressure. The girl on her knees encircles Dean's shaft with one hand, sucking the tip and running her tongue over the slit and the thick vein that Harry knows all too well. With one quick movement she withdraws her hand and takes Harry in as far as possible, tongue swirling on the way down. Harry makes a strangled sound, heat and slick tightness and the pressing weight of the whore's tongue overloading him for a second. The girl bobs her head up and down, unsurprisingly moving like a pro. Harry recognises the technique as Camille's new approach.

It's almost the same sensation, a little more practiced but still similar enough to blur together with her in his mind. He's losing himself to bitterness, forgetting where he is and remembering Camille and what she's done.

And then she moans.

The rough, wrecked sound breaks Harry from his thoughts and he opens his eyes, looking down at the dark head still intently bobbing on his cock. She moans again on the down stroke and Harry can feel her tongue sweeping at hus head, tasting pre-come and coming back for more. He shifts from his place, thrown back on the couch, raising himself enough to look at the girl's face.

Her eyes are shut, squeezed closed not at the strain of the motion, as he finds Camille sometimes looks, but instead with guilty pleasure. Soft hands grip Harry's thighs, urging him up, closer. Another wordless, groan of pleasure wracks the throat of the girl kneeling before him. Her eyes flicker open a little, taking a second to focus on Harry's flushed, intent face. Blue eyes turn slightly worried for a second, as if she's suddenly remembered that this is one sided deal – that Harry is paying for a service and not doing her a massive favour by shoving his cock down her throat.

Harry lays a hand on her dark hair, soft and untidy, gently pushing her further down onto his erection, hips bucking up as he watches the whore's lips stretch around him. Her eyes flick closed as she goes back to sucking, cheeks hollowing and she moans around the weight of him, soft keening noises and greedy, thick moans that catch her throat.

Harry can't tear his eyes away.

'Fuck...fuck...yeah, god..." Harry crashes into his orgasm, body stiffening as she swallows him down, lapping at his cum.

She sucks Harry lazily, pulling off when he emits a soft noise at the stimulation of his sensitive dick. She presses her nose to the dark hair there instead, inhaling shakily and making a wretched sound in the back of her throat. Harry can only shake, body and mind still lost and only aware that someone is lavishing attention on him, tender and soft as he comes down.

"...uh..." the sound falls from her lips, body trembling as she presses his mouth to the skin beside the root of Harry's spent cock. Harry pets her hair, feeling the soft nudging of her head against his palm.

This is intimate, wrong on levels beyond levels. But Harry can't pull away. He's lost his girlfriend, his perfect, beautiful girl. And the only thing that's made him feel good in months is a whore who's sucked him down for fifty bucks.

And loved every second of it.

She pulls away after a while, sitting back on her heels and rubbing the back of her hand across her reddened mouth.

Harry straightens up, she refuses to look him in the eye.

"I take it I should...go." Harry hears himself say. She looks up, looking for the first time like she isn't sure, not just mildly confused but downright uncertain.

"...I...yes." she says. She gets up and goes to the door, laying her hands on it. "I'm sorry...about how this has gone..."

"Don't. It's not...it's really not your fault." Harry steps through the opened door, looking back at her and feeling awkward, somehow regretting what they've done, for the wrong reasons. "Thank you...for...it was good."

"Good" she says, smiling slightly, then, without meaning to. "what's your name?" She never usually asks things of her clients.

"Harry." Harry says, feeling the weight in his chest decrease a little. "Styles." He adds, because being just Harry would make him like any one of the John's this girl must see. He wants to be different, not just a client but the guy who came to find out about his girlfriend, who came for a reason other than sex.

"I'm Prudence" He realises this must sound like a fake name. "Usually I introduce myself as Marie, it's my middle name. But I'm Prudence Bulsara-Hutton."

Harry likes the fact that he gets this girl's real name. He likes her more than he should like someone who's been hooking up with his girlfriend and then blown him for a handful of bills.

"Hi Prudence."

"Hello Harry."

[shametheshadow]

It's been a while. A lot of shit's been going on since I was last kinda active. Sorry, I dont remember how to hide this under a read more line... feel free to scroll past if you arent in the mood for existential whinging. I got a new job and it's pleasant. The people are nice. It's still food, but it's at a fancy restaurant where the management actually cares and tries to keep their crew happy. The hours could be better and I'm currently sick of salads with how many I've made. They give hours based on reliability and if you're a hard worker who is nice to work with. But like... everybody is nice and hard working so it's hard to just muscle in sometimes. But on the positive side I've dropped ten pounds, probably thanks to how light my wallet is. Had an issue with my little brother. Well, there's been an unspoken issue for years that I've been trying to just give him space on, but it finally came to a head. I called him out and he said some pretty hurtful things. I saw him on Christmas, but it wasnt the same. I think it kind of damaged something between us, or at the very least it certainly has me. I think, as people, we build these pillars of absolute truths into our identities. The things we know without a doubt, that we can rely on to stay true even when things are bad. Like, that the sky is blue or that a parent we have will always love us. When those truths are shaken they really make you wonder what else could be wrong or if there was ever any truth in it to begin with. For me, no matter how bad I felt or hated myself, I knew I could be a good sister. I'd throw myself down for it. I have done so, unfortunately, many times before. We all see the world a little differently, so my truth may not be the truth someone else sees. I dont know whether that makes it any better, but I certainly feel unsure about more things now than I used to. Some days I even feel like giving up on our relationship. I'm just too tired, too worn down, and I don't think I can handle being called a failure again. Which sucks, because I dont really want to. I just want to know how to fix it, even though I'm not sure I have any more energy to try again if it's just going to lead to another failure. And on top of all of that my bio dad and all those siblings are tasting the bitter consequences of their actions. My youngest sister got taken away from her parents because instead of breaking up and being adults about it they have to be petty and cowardly. One has unchecked anger issues mixed with plenty of excuses and the other thinks she's owed some sort of respect despite her immature actions. Thing is, I've had plenty of talks with my bio dad about the effects their toxic relationship have on his 6 year old daughter. He knows. He isnt stupid or blind. He'd just rather keep it going despite everyone's unhappiness and dig a deeper hole so he doesn't have to risk losing custody of his daughter if they break up. And here we are now. With his daughter taken away and given to our 21 year old sister who doesn't have a clue. And they've failed to regain custody once already. And you know the fucking hilariously tragic part of it? Me and my sister Des are the only two without some sort of record so nobody else in the family can help. Just a fucking warning for any teens out there who think being a gangster is cool, life always has consequence. Doing drugs, selling pills, pimping, stealing cars, assault, having unregistered weapons... my family has probably done just about anything. Apparently my bio dad's stepfather even threatened to shoot my grandma once. There's an argument to made about the environment they all grew up in, but I really wish people would just have the self awareness to realize that things will always find a way to bite you in the ass and it's it big enough then it'll get the people around you too. I normally get my sister on weekends, but I need to work Saturdays as a requirement for my employment. I try to cut it short so I can be there when they drop her off, but half the time they dont and send her somewhere she isnt supposed to go. I'm risking my job trying to be there when I'm needed, just for them to change their mind at the last second because I wasnt home soon enough. They'd rather risk losing our sister to the system by breaking the rules. CPS doesn't play around. I've had to tell them two or three times that I couldn't take our sister because I was sick or dealing with some really stressful family stuff that Koral didnt need to be there to see. Every time I feel like the punishment is that they stop letting me see her by not bringing her over anymore. Then out of the blue they call on a weekday and ask if I can take her because she has a day off or something. I have never once said no but every time it sends me into an anxiety attack because I can't handle being kept in the dark until they need me. It's got me so worked up that sometimes I genuinely wish I had never been told my dad wasnt my real dad. Of course, I know that by knowing I can help a little girl who needs help, but I wont lie and say that I never wished I didn't have time deal with any of it. I got the news today that my bio dad is in trouble for something else, though they wouldn't say what. So they arent going to give him custody until that's settled at the very least. Shortly into it my sister had asked me to take over the guardianship. I was so out of the loop that I thought the question was absurd. I thought they'd pull it together and get her back in a short time, so what would the point of moving her to another town and school be? How would I go about that? What would the home requirements be? Would I be able to provide for the both of us? I wouldn't be able to leave work until 4 at the earliest shift, so would after school stuff be best or daycare? There's so much that goes into taking care of a kid to just spring that question onto someone. Now it's been four or five months and I'm hating the idea that she's stuck there in the middle of it all more and more. People keep telling me I should take her. Even my manager after I broke down and told him everything after my sister's call left me a mess at work, said that I would be the better option. I know what it's like to be fought over in custody battles and I understand way too well the fear of being taken away from your home as well as what it's like to change schools. I dont want that for Koral. I dont even know if I would be the better option. I talked to my cousin, whom I live with, about it for a while last night and she said she wouldn't be opposed to having Koral with us... but I feel bad making this her issue too. I want what is best for my sister. She's way too smart. You know when unqualified pet owners get a dog breed that is really smart and they struggle to meet the needs to keep it entertained so it just makes trouble? That is what my sister is like. My family has their strengths, but Koral is 6 and could run circles both physically and mentally around them. It might be "funny" now, but Lansing itself is a shitty influence on people and by the time she's a teenager and wants to go to a party, nothing is going to keep her from getting out short of bars on the windows and doors. The only thing stopping her from doing it now is motive. But would I do any better? I genuinely dont know. I wish I could talk to my brother about it. He knows where I come from and, even if he thinks I failed, he could at least tell me how to be better so I dont fuck up again for a little girl who is in a situation similar to one we were in. I asked Des today if she wanted to talk to their case worker about transfering guardianship. She said she's have to talk to her dad... which is bullshit. He lost the right to dictate where Koral goes when he fucked up. How is he supposed to be motivated to fix this if the only thing that has changed is that she doesn't sleep in her bedroom anymore? He shouldn't see her when he wants to or be able to say what happens to her. And I dont say that because I think he shouldn't ever be able to, because I want him to step it up, I just feel like he wont if things keep going as they are. I dont want to lose my sister to the system. Supposedly the social worker said that Koral also has to stay in the same school and can't see anyone not on the already approved list of people for the sake of consistency... but that's stupid. I know that changing schools can be traumatizing, and if Lansing was a good place to live and raise a kid, then maybe I'd try to make that work, but it isnt. So it makes me wonder that if I came to the table with a clearly stable, appealing plan would they change their minds? If it were my choice, I'd have her in therapy to help deal with everything, maybe a sport like gymnastics or whatever else she might be interested in to keep her engaged. I'm planning a kids d&d session for her and another kiddo that she plays with when she's here because last time she found my monster manual and got obsessed. And I know it wont be all good. She's a handful and a brat, and she can be a force of nature when she doesn't get her way, but I've been an older sister since I was five and my family didnt out up with bratty behavior. I know how to deal with it, and I also know how to use the internet and other resources to learn. Hell, I live with a child therapist/youth minister. I know I could do it. Even if it ended up being a permanent thing. I'm torn between the fear of not being enough at the expense of my sister's wellbeing and knowing that I'd gladly twist myself into a pretzel to try and do right. But when it comes to other people, especially a kid, is trying enough? Good intentions don't equal a quality of living. So yeah, that's where I am right now. Trying to be better and figure out who I am while also being incredibly stressed out and lost. If you read through this, thank you for listening to this TED talk. I'm open to advice.

[bmared]

Forgiveness.

To some, it's the literal definition.

To me, it meant letting someone have their way with whatever they want.

After a long, difficult battle, the shark themed villain, dubbed "Placoi" by the media, seemed to disappear into thin air.

"Damn it, she always seems to get away, doesnt she?" My young ward, Overcharge, asked.

I only nodded in agreement, but the smile on my face showed nothing but absolute joy. I could barely contain my excitement, and it took all my effort not to squeal with joy, like my mild mannered alter ego would. After months of battling, and racking up millions of dollars in damages, we were so close to stopping her.

Back in our lair, on a remote island, I'm taking off my super suit, when my phone gets a call.

"Miss Mabry," it's my assistant. "You have an appointment in twenty. Get here on time or I'm removing your coffee priviledges."

"Okay, Piper, I-" I was cut off.

"You have a caller ma'am. Someone named 'Alyssa Dukes'? D'you want me to patch her through?" Piper asked.

I rubbed my temples. Fifth time today I've had a random caller. It better not be a marketer.

The call goes through and I hear on the opposite end,"Hello? Is this Miss Mabry?" The voice is very familiar.

"Yes this is, how can I help you?" I answer with confusion.

The caller, Alyssa, replies,"We need to talk about your work ethic. You, almost catching me, again? Hahaha."

A chill goes down my spine. "How, in the hell, did you find out?"

"Tracker." She replies. "You use a tracker on all your shit to keep track of it. Last week, a prototype coffee machine went missing from one of your stores. Unfortunately, the chip wore out after an hour. Fortunately, I was able to mimic the signal with my own piece of crap hardware, and what do i find? Miss Alyx Mabry is "Shark Match"? I mean, c'mon. Give me a little credit."

"What happens now?" I ask.

"Now, nothing. But a week from now, you'll know. And, dont worry. I wont share your secret as long as your secretary deletes this audio as soon as you've finished tracking my signal. Come alone. I'll be there by myself."

The call ends, and I have a location.

"Ma'am?" Piper asks.

"I guess I'm losing coffee priviledge, huh?"

"Same cover?" She prompts.

"No, tell them I just didn't want to come."

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

I get to the site the call led me to, and I find it's an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. One of mine.

I get inside, and theres a table set up for what looks like dinner. A woman sits at the table with her back to me. I pull out my capture gun and launch a volley at her. It wraps around, and I hear the click telling me its locked in place.

"Oh, tsk tsk tsk. I told you unarmed." I hear from her. "But I guess, seeing as how this isnt technically a 'firearm', it doesnt count."

I approach her, slowly.

"Dont be afraid, sweetheart. If I wanted to hurt you, I would've went after that brat of yours, 'Overcharge'. By the way, what kind of douche calls 'imself 'overcharge'?"

I round the table and sit in the open chair.

"So, why did you call?" I ask, eyeing the spaghetti.

"I didn't poison it, if that's what your wondering." She answers. "And, I called you here because I have a proposition for ya'."

"Not interested" I answer quickly.

"Oh, c'mon. You dont even know what it is."

"Dont need to." I take a bite. I dont care if its poisoned, it tastes delicious. Weird after taste, though.

"Actually, you might wanna. The sleeping pill is gonna take effect soon, what with your heightened metabolism and all."

"Damnit" I bang my head on the table.

"I'm kidding" she says.

She flexes, and the ropes break, and I flinch.

I look up at her, and shes standing next to the table, in a black suit that hugs her curves.

"All I'm asking for is your forgiveness, and I'll stop all my crimes." She says, seriously.

"You arent serious, are you? The public would never allow that! You'd be lucky with life in prison." I yell.

"But what the public doesn't know, wont hurt them." She prompts.

"Huh?"

"Hear me out," she asks," we continue this whole 'pissing contest' in public, I terrorize the citizens, bring what seems like calamity, and you 'stop me'." She says, using air quotes. "During our fights, I'll cause little to no structural damages, I'll keep my zero body count-yes, I've kept track- and I'll put up practically no fight. How does that sound?"

"Like you actually did drug me."I reply with a straight face.

"Whether or not you believe me, or even accept this, it's still gonna happen." She sits back down and takes a bite of bread.

"What even prompted this?" I ask.

"I fell in love, and realized who I love will never accept me the way I am right now." She says.

"Wha?"

"Look, the answers not important. Just know I'll be cutting back on crime time."

"Why couldnt you have just said that?"

"Would you have believed me?"

I take a second.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

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

Months later, and she was true to her word. I'd only fought her 12 times, about a third of her original time, and not so much as a scratch was put on the buildings.

During those months, I actually spent time with her, learning her past, trying to understand her. After hearing her story, it was no wonder she did what she did. With parents who acted like that, I woulda snapped. Slowly, ever so slowly, I realized we had a blossoming friendship. I saw a lot -probably too much- of myself in her. We got into a rhythm of after fighting, to sit down and talk.

After the twelfth fight, I finally had the courage to ask, "So, who was this mysterious man you fell in love with?"

She looked at me with a pained look.

"Nevermind that," she waved away the question. "Tell me, is there anyone in your life whose caught your eye?"

"Nuh-uh. You cant turn this on me. I asked you first." I stared her down.

"Fine." She said, breaking eye contact and staring at her lap, where she cradled a cup of tea. "First, before I tell you, you ahve to answer this question."

"It better not be a relationship question."

"Its not." She says. She looks around, closes her eyes, and stares at me, saying, "Do you think anybody can be redeemed? Do you think anyone can get forgiveness for any deed done, barring murder?" She bites her lip in worry.

I shake my head and giggle a little. "You've already asked this, and I said yes."

"I know, I just need to get enough courage to confess to you." She says.

"Wha-?"

She interrupts."I fell in love with you, but because I'm a villain, and you're a hero, I thought I could never tell you that. But, after all this time, I've grown as a person. I've still got some way to go, though."

"I-im flattered that you think that way, but-"

"You're straight, arent you, of course you are, why wouldnt you be. You're literally the perfect woman, and her I am, being a negative influence on everyone. I should've never invited you over, I'm sorry." She runs away, before I could stop her.

I get up and call after her, yelling "Alyssa!" But she either cant hear me, or doesn't want to. I dont panic, though. I cant. My phone starts to ring, and Its my assistant.

"Damnit Piper" I answer. "Now's probably the worst time. What do you want?"

"Its almost time for your speech. And, my names Jannet." She says blankly. Speech? I think to myself.

"Sorry, Jannet. I'm still trying to get used to Piper not being here." Is what I actually say.

"You're the one who promoted her."

I hang up and look towards the door Alyssa ran out. I take a step towards it, when my phone rings with a reminder. I glance at it, it says 'Mayoral inaugural speech'.

I put my phone down, and race towards the other door. I open it, and inside is my suit.

"Well, Shark Match," I say to myself," Time to Come out of the closet so your crush doesn't destroy New Yallk City. Man, sounds like a bad autobiography. Or a fanfiction title.

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

The Mayor is exactly like you'd imagine him. Slimy and not particularly firm in any ideology that doesn't secure his vote. As a citizen asked to prepare a speech to secure to African American vote, I lost all faith in this man. But today I lost the additional bit of faith I didn't even realize I had. I don't like to keep up with politics, as someone in my line of work shouldn't, so it was a surprise to me when, in the middle of my speech, someone from the paper yelled "Why are you against gay marriage? Is it because of your parents."

"Who said that?" I yell. "I was trying to find some way to put it, but it didnt feel natural until now. It'd be pretty bad for my community if I went against it, now wouldn't it? I didnt even realize this man" I point to the mayor, "thought like that. What, do I need to wear the lesbian flag as a Cape now? Actually, that be awesome."

I shoot one more glare at the mayor, who's sweating by now. "Give him one term. If he doesnt clean up his act by then, I'll run for mayor myself. I'll even reveal myself at that point. Hows that sound?" The crowd cheers.

The dinner afterward was a littel awkward on his end, but only one thought kept going through my head. 'Did Alyssa see?'

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

It was midnight when I heard my window squeak. I heard footsteps come close to my bed, a piece of paper get placed on my nightstand, and footsteps retreat.

I wait a minute, then get out of bed and turn on a light. The paper says "This friday, Same warehouse, 9pm. Wear something sexy, I need to apologize.

-Signed

Alyssa dukes"

I smile and set the note back down, pleasant thoughts accompanying me to dreamland..

[wolfbro92]

rip yall I'm on mobile and do not know how this app works. anywho please enjoy this snippet of oc feels that will mean jackshit to yall but I made me cry so whatever.

Trigger warning time: Blood, Choking, coughing do to illness but its magic, Avalanches, self destructive behaviors, purple prose, and yearning.

I know this isnt how tags work work but shh

#ocs #yearning #hurt and comfort #the gay shit #mopper #uncut, untamed, and unedited

Mikely shifted the ax that sat heavey in his hands. Rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders as he listened to the distant rumbling of an avalanche. It subsided soon enough, it's distance making it a non-theat to anything he cared about, and so, he was left to his thoughts and to his wood splittinng.

ca thunk

thunk

crack

A new chunk of log placed on the stump

ca thunk

thunk

crack

And another, and another, and another after it.

Mikely lost himself in the simple motion, the exertion and the ache beginning to form in his arms were a pleasant distraction from his thief's proposition.

He couldn't give up on his role. He couldn't let all of those who rely on him for safety come to harm through his inaction. He couldn't go back on his word.

Copper's voice echoed through his head, the awful fairy who haunted his thoughts had offered to whisk him away. His stupid smile and kind eyes had disarmed him, made him vulnerable to the idea. "Come explore with me, I can take you anywhere, show you anything."

"show me a way to keep them all safe while I'm away." he had gritted through his teeth as Copper's kind hands laced golden magic under his skin, healing the gash that had started this awful argument.

"They can protect themselves, there are many fine and strapping folk down there. Any one of them could learn whatever they need to to try and fill your shoes," Copper's hands had soothed over his shoulders, "Besides how many people have you already saved, my hero? how many more must you save till you except it as enough? When will you have earned rest?"

"You know when." Mikely had leaned back into his chest and closed his eyes, ignoring the way the massive creature's hands had stilled before looping his arms around him a little too tight. A little too possessive.

"Why? please help me understand Starlight, Why must you give everything for people who scorn you?"

"Because I couldn't save them all."

"Of course you couldn't! You're just one man! My dear, you're brilliant in so many ways, and I refuse to accept you are stupid enough to genuinely believe you could do what even the gods can't!" Copper had turned him around in his arms, holding him like he might break, concern and hurt and emotions Mikely did not have a name for paled his stripes.

mikely had shoved him away, the spring in his gut coiling him tighter and tighter until he felt he would explode. "Well I should have been able too!" he stood from the bed pulling his bloodied tunic back over his head as he stormed out of the room. Copper was a coward, he always ran at the first sign of danger, so Mikely didn't know why he had expected him to understand.

ca thunk

thunk

crack

ca thunk

crack

thunk

He buried the ax in the stump with one overly forceful swing. He was panting and the hurt in his chest was returning just thinking about that awful conversation. He let go of the well worn handle and rubbed callused hands over his sweaty face, panting and pacing away from the stump for a few steps as he forced his emotions back into the box he kept them in.

"Mikely!" Metock's urgent voice pulled him out of his head. she was running and she looked frantic in a way Mikely had only seen a handful of times in their shared lifetimes, "There's something wrong with Copper," she bent at the waist panting as she desperately tried to catch her breath and convey this message, "He collapsed and I dont think he can breathe. I'm going to go find a physician in town." she took of down the hill leaving Mikely in a daze of blurry emotion.

Before he was even fully aware of what he was doing, his legs were carrying him back to the house, he heard Nulk shouting and something big coughing and gasping.

The ache in his legs didn't stop him as he rounded the corner into the sitting room as fast as they could carry him.

Nulk was shaking Copper, calling to him as the massive fae knelt bent over and heaving. Mikely knelt beside them looking to nulk for any explanation as he wrapped an arm over coppers back in desperate attempt to steady him.

"He was fine! and then he just froze and started coughing, he said he was okay but then he collapsed and it's still getting worse," they looked over to Mikely, desperate for guidance. "What do we do?" their voice was quiet and panicked hoarse.

Copper was the only one among them with any sort of medical training.

Mikely just pulled him closer, his stomach flipped as Copper's coughing turned to gagging, an awful clicking noise rattling from the back of his throat. His stripes were white with panic in a way he would normally try to hide.

Copper gasped as he grabbed for Mikely's hand and pulled it to his throat. He heaved as he turned to Mikely, eyes pleading as his hands fumbled Mikely's into a facsimile of choking.

Mikely stared wide eyed, his careful mask shattered by all of this. was copper dying? Mikely's mind ran blank as copper asked him to choke him out.

Copper's grip on his hand tightened it against his neck as he convulsed with another fit of coughing, his spit black with his own blood.

Mikely nodded and moved his hands into place, pushing on the underside of Copper's jaw and collapsing his trachea enough to cut off what little air he was getting. As he faded, copper struggled on pure instinct, too weak to do much other than writhe as he heaved and coughed himself into unconsciousness.

As soon as he stilled Mikely let go, his breathing evening out as he slept, hoarse and wheezing, but no longer choking.

"Help me get him to bed." Mikely said, hoping his voice wasn't as shaky as he felt.

nulk nodded and stood with Mikely, shifting to be larger than him. Mikely helped loop Copper's arms over their shoulders and followed close behind as nulk mostly dragged the fairy to the nearest bedroom.

Mikely shoved open the door for them and helped them situate copper on the sheets. Not thinking, just doing as his blood roared in his ears. He pulled a chair over to the edge and sat himself down, ready for what he felt would be a long sentinel.

Nulk mumbled something about going to go find Metock as they shuffled out of the room, leaving Mikely with his thoughts and with his guilt.

Metock and the physician came and went, he said something about how Copper seemed perfectly fine but he had no idea what he was and so 'fine' was a relative term in this situation.

Mikely waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Nulk brought two cups of tea to the room, both sat cold now.

Metock came in and sat on the edge if the bed and chatted idly with, mostly with herself, for a moment and then left again.

And Mikely waited.

He hated waiting.

I left him with too much time to focus on the growing fear that his last words to Copper might have been him snapping at him, and it was making his insides feel like they were full of rust and sludge.

Mikely knew on a practical level that Copper cared for him and went out of his way to help him, more so than anybody else. He knew Copper had just been trying to protect him from himself, as much as Mikely hated to admit he needed it.

And, he knew that his own feelings for the man weren't as complicated as he desperately wanted them to be.

As Mikely sat there listening to the creaking of the house and the near silent breathing of the fairy beside him, And as he watched to slow rise and fall of Copper's chest and the way his lips quircked up in a silently dream filled snarl and how his hands flex against the bed, and as his mind filled the quiet spaces with coughing, Mikely felt something in him break for the last time.

He loved copper so so much, he wanted to be with him, and despite all good logic going against it, copper seemed to love him back, and Mikely was done denying that the best part of his day was curling up next him and burying his face in the sweet scented expanses of grey and red skin. He was done pretending he was indifferent to the little stones and bits of broken glass and shell left on his desk. He was done refusing His Fairy's affection.

He was done denying himself a happy ever after.

As Mikely sat back in his chair he knew there would only be a short period of time he would get Copper to himself, he knew the fairy would grow tired of him as soon as he got to old to be beautiful enough for him. He knew Copper's home would call him away soon enough and that Copper would leave him on this side of the hill.

Mikely knew it wouldn't be long before Copper realized he could do so much better somewhere else, and he planned to make full use of whatever time he hadn't already wasted.

And so he waited.

As the sun was creeping in under the curtains, Coper began to stir. He shifted and for a brief moment Mikely feared the coughing was going to return as Copper cleared his throat. As he stretched and sluggishly drifted back to the land of the awake he coughed under his breath every few seconds.

Though, Mikely was grateful it was more of a 'tail end of a particularly nasty head cold' type cough than the 'Oh god Oh god is he dying' type of choking it had been yesterday.

"Morning Sunlight" He said as he rolled over in the bed to lay on his stomach, pillowing his head on his forarms

"Care to explain yesterday?"

"hmm-" Copper yawned as he turned his head to face Mikely, "Nah, I think I'm good," He smirked.

"Copper, you Scared us. You dont get to brush this off." His voice was quiet, which unfortunately undercut his normally harsh tone.

Copper buried his face into the crook of his arm and groaned, "Its… its complicated, ok? Can I explain later?" His hair raised as he made a face into his sleeve, "Plus, I really need a bath and to go change…"

"Ok, let's go."

"Was that you inviting yourself into my bath?" He threw a mock offended expression in Mikely's direction.

"Yes." He said while getting to his feet.

[notquitejiraiya]

Chess [17] - {ShikaTema AU}

Despite all odds, and thinking I wouldn’t have got inspired to do it, here is Chapter17; brought to you on New Years Day as I planned :)

I dedicate this (which I never do) to the badass people who I’ve only spoken to a little bit, but have been so damn kind about my work and are just great people.

Enjoy :)

[Read / Comment on AO3 Here]

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Nothing could quite compare to how Temari felt in this exact moment, nor could she relate any experience in her life to the underlying fear that had resonated since Saturday night; that ever-present pang of hurt that clung to her chest and send shivers down her spine.

Gaara, as expected, had been as helpful as he could be. When she got home, after the false smiles and tired eyes played well in front of Kankuro, she made a beeline for his room, and found him sat in bed, reading as he waited. There he had sat, looking at her with a gaze that was equal parts exhausted and excited, but it took only one proper look at her for his arms to open up. And, obviously, she ran to him.

All she’d done was explained. The evening had been pleasant, despite the fact that he was late, and very much despite the fact that he wasn’t willing to give her up as a therapist. She was not going to be any use to him anymore—she must’ve told Gaara that a hundred times over, but nothing seemed to make him speak. As always, her little brother sat and listened intently, holding her close until she eventually calmed down and fell asleep in his arms. When she’d woken up he was on the floor with a blanket and a pillow, his red hair spread messy, and she couldn’t help smiling. He was definitely her big brother at heart.

Both Sunday and Monday had been days of false smiles and hiding, reading every file but his in an attempt to recollect her thoughts and not be useless, but every road felt like it lead back to him. Every phrase that fell from a patient’s mouth felt inferior, and, while on the Monday she had her first patient who was ready to stop coming to see her, she felt no fulfilment.

She thought knowing him had been making her happy, but now she felt almost nothing at all.

But that whole time had been leading up to this moment. For two days she’d been waiting to hear that door click, torturing herself by reading his file over today’s lunchtime, and trying her absolute best to keep up with everything people said to her. Without a doubt, though, she had never felt more on edge in her life, and she stared at the doorknob, just waiting for it to turn.

As the metal glinted as it moved, Temari wanted nothing more than to hide away behind her desk or disappear away, never to return. Instead she braced herself, took a deep breath, and desperately searched for a positive in the situation.

Three-fifty-four, she noted the time. He’s early for once.

“Hi,” she mumbled, forcing a smile.

“Hi. Sorry.”

“Come sit down,” she instructed, adjusting her position on her chair. “Are you, um, doing alright today?”

All Shikamaru could do in response was nod, rubbing his neck nervously as he stepped closer. “Well, this is awkward.”

“It’s not!” she lied. “So have you had any problems since Friday?”

It was his turn to lie, shaking his head.

“Really? None?”

And again. “No.”

“How’re your family?”

Suddenly there was a smile on his face, and she could feel herself getting riled up; confused by it’s appearance. “You’ve got no idea how to talk to me now, have you?”

Temari gulped, her palms sweating. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“This is horrible,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “It feels like we’ve never even met before.”

“That’s what I was going for. You were the one who said forget about everything, Shikamaru. I’m forgetting it.”

“I didn’t mean forget how to be a normal human being.” Shikamaru sighed, sitting back into the sofa and biting his lip as his eyes looked everywhere but at hers. “I meant go back to before what happened—I meant be yourself, Tem.”

“Temari,” she argued, correcting him. “And that’s difficult, given that I knew this would happen and yet you just had to come back.”

“Tem—”

“And now I can’t help you.”

The spark that was fighting to stay alive in his eyes suddenly went out, and his arms folded across his chest, sloppy like a ragdoll. His gaze flew towards the window, and like a statue he was at once immovable.

Temari felt a lump in he throat. “Shall I grab the board?”

He didn’t move.

“Okay then, shall I just go fuck myself?”

She thought she saw that slight smile wriggle its way back onto his lips, but when she blinked it was gone. “Why don’t you just ask me about Asuma?” he mumbled. “You were on a fucking roll on Friday until I stopped you.”

“Your teacher?” She frowned. “Is there more for you to say about him? You already covered a lot of it then.”

He laughed, humourlessly. “Forget it then, jeez.” She could see his eyeballs flickering side to side, lulling closer to closing as he watched the clouds. “It’s as if you’ve forgotten your job.”

The recurring desire to punch him was crawling back to her, stronger than it ever had. “My job, Shikamaru is to help you understand yourself, and to make you feel better. And, to be really honest with you, right now I have no idea how to do that whatsoever.”

“Brilliant.”

“Will you just shut up?” she shouted, burying her face in her palms.

Shikamaru could see just from the whiting of her knuckles out of the corner of his eyes how uncomfortable she was, and the sharpness of her voice wasn’t something he was used to. Why had he at any point thought that this was going to be different from this? Did any sane part of him really think that she wouldn’t be mad at him in some way, shape or form? Of course he didn’t, so why was he so surprised that she was upset, infuriated. She almost looked broken, and the same insane part of him that was so riddled with hopeful denial wanted nothing more than to mend her somehow.

But, then again, she was Temari—from what she’d told him she was the strongest person she knew. Surely some stupid skinny asshole hadn’t shattered that person to a nervous wreck. She wasn’t like him; or, at the very least, he didn’t want to think that she felt at all like he did right now.

“Temari, I’m sorry, I—”

“I don’t want you to apologise to me. I don’t want you to even mention it.” Her eyes, bloodshot and angry stood in agreement, but Shikamaru couldn’t help thinking they didn’t give the whole picture.

He leant forward in his seat, hands locked together between his knees. His gaze turned solely on her, desperately trying not to waver and determined to not look away again. “I’m sorry I came back.”

“I just cannot believe I called you selfless, Shikamaru. You’ve come back here purely for yourself, like you don’t realise how genuinely hard this is for me to continue with!”

“We went on one date…”

“Which was one too many, Shikamaru! I—” She stopped herself abruptly, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I almost fucking kissed you!”

He gulped, eyes falling to the floor.

“I’m sorry. Did you actually want to talk about Asuma?”

“If you want me to. If it helps me get better then sure,” he mumbled, nodding.

“That’s so important to you, isn’t it? Getting better.” Her voice was almost bitter, but she masked it well with her soft smile. “That overrides everything.”

Shikamaru’s shoulders drooped. “I mean, obviously it’s important to me, but I wouldn’t say it ‘overrides everything’.”

“So, if you were to have the chance to do something that would make you genuinely happy but it would stop you getting better, you’d do it?”

He raised his head again, shaking his head with the most surprising smile yet. “I know exactly what you’re saying. My IQ is through the roof remember.”

“I never said anything about—”

“But I know that’s you’re saying. I know what can make me better, and I will do it. When I’m better I can do the things I want to do…”

It was Temari’s turn to feel her stomach fill with guilt. Despite the anger that rushed through her body, and the insane temperature at which her blood was boiling, for reasons she couldn’t quite pin down, she suddenly felt herself go cold at the sight of his smile. Not calm—no she was definitely still infuriated with him—but genuinely chilled. So many times she had looked at him and seen nothing but his usual melancholic veil of false calm, having no idea what was really happening under than dark hair and what was really inside his heart. Never had she known exactly what he was going to say; she just wasn’t able to pin him down like that.

Until now, because, strangely, he could feel it herself. So many things at once, rushing around; always taking blame and never placing it for so many unforgotten mistakes and could-have been moments, trapped in a loop of hostility towards himself that made his fingers tap anxiously…she could see it all. And, despite all her instincts as a therapist, she couldn’t bear to watch anymore.

“Most of them, anyway,” he added finally, one corner of his mouth raising, as if to convince her he was okay, really.

It didn’t work.

“I’m sorry. I never should’ve agreed to go out with you.”

Shikamaru shook his head, a deep frown carved into his expression. “Stop it. You have nothing to apologise for.”

“But, I—”

“You’re only trying to help me,” he acknowledged. “It’s my fault that I’m back here, and it’s my fault that I’ve painted myself with an extra layer of pain every hour since Saturday, and I’ve kept adding to it; checking my phone, almost calling you, almost calling here yesterday. I know its entirely my own fault, and yet I can’t shake it off.” He let out a huge sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as his head shook, trying to displace his thoughts. “I just can’t fix it.”

As she watched him haul himself to his feet, zipping up his hoodie blind, Temari felt her boots violently hit the ground and soon she, too, was on her feet, making a beeline for him. When she’s turned the corner of her desk, her hips swaying rapidly as she sped walked, she reached out to grab his arm, but his eyes flew open, and he stepped back, crossing them across his chest.

“Don’t.”

“Shikamaru—”

“Don’t, it’s fine,” he whispered, trying to stop himself listening to his own words. “I won’t come back.”

Temari was too frozen by far too many emotions to move a muscle, and so she watched hopelessly as the young man paced towards the door—faster than she’d ever seen him walk—lingering with his fingers on the door handle. She thought, maybe, that he’d look up. Or maybe he’d turn and give her one final smile—one last hurrah.

Silently he nodded once, and twisted the knob, leaving as silently as he’d entered. It took seconds for Temari to collapse on the sofa he’d just been sat on, perturbed by the warmth of spot he’d just been in, and pull her phone from her pocket. Quickly, swallowing all of her emotions and whatever pride she had left, she dialled her most called number and listened to the beeps of it ringing, and ringing, and ringing…

“Gaara,” she said to the answerphone, not caring whether he listened now or in three hours, just desperate to speak to someone or something. “Please say you’re going to the pub quiz tonight with trenchcoat-guy. I really want to come—hell I’ll even pay for your drinks, just let me come. Please!” She was aware how painful her begging was, so after a long, deep breath, she uttered the real truth, “I just really need a bloody drink.”

Outside, at the bus stop in the pouring rain, a young man put his phone to his ear and uttered very similar words. “Choji,” he sighed down the phone, “please tell me you can meet me tonight?”

“Man, I’ll be at work from six onwards, but Ino’s probably free if—”

“I’ll come. I need you, man.” He did, and his friend’s vague company would be better than loneliness tonight. He couldn’t do it tonight.

~~~

Temari knew that every other Tuesday her youngest brother would come to the pub, drink with his friends, and play some quiz she’d never considered taking part in. What she didn’t know was that said brother was really, really good at it. And, while that inevitably made her feel a bit stupid and a little more downtrodden given the day she’d already had, it definitely had it perks. Perks which consisted of a lot of free drinks for winning each round.

The clock had barely struck ten and she was convinced at this point that she’d drunk a bucket’s worth of cocktails. Never had she considered herself a cocktail person—she had always been a ‘beer-out-of-the-can’ kind of girl, with the odd gin-and-tonic of someone else could be bothered to make her one. So, unsurprisingly, the pitchers of cocktails their quiz team had one, and she had drunk, had gone straight to her head.

Temari could hold her alcohol with the big guns—she could out-drink Kankuro any day—but this was dangerous. These drinks tasted like fruit juice, and they just kept on coming. She was smart, and underneath the fuzziness and slurring, she was perfectly aware that this was not going well.

And, for once, she didn’t give a shit.

Shikamaru, on the other hand, did.

He’d spotted her the second she walked in, hiding expertly underneath his scarf so she didn’t notice him, and ever since he had been sat, hidden behind a pillar, hoping that she’d never leave her seat—never see him. She had as much right to be here as him, and yet he knew if she saw him she would get up and leave. Or, at least, she would’ve.

He hadn’t join in with the quiz, although Choji had violently urged him that he should, telling him he could get crisps or juice instead of the drinks they gave to winners if he just asked.

“Look,” he said as Shikamaru peered over at the blonde drinking some fantasy-coloured drink through a draw, “you can join in anytime. You’ll ace it if you do!”

“Choji,” he argued, “I didn’t come to play a game and eat crisps. I came to be with my mate and not be alone. If I’m going to feel sad anywhere, I may as well feel sad in a room full of noisy strangers.”

His friend had to stop himself reaching across the bar to hug him. “I’m sorry I have to work, man.”

“It’s fine. Just get me a drink.”

“Orange juice again?”

“No.” Shikamaru shook his head, biting on his lip. “Give me whiskey. Double.”

Choji’s eyes widened, and his forehead creased into a worried frown. “Man, I really don’t think you want to—”

“Choji…”

“The most you’ve drunk since you were eighteen is half a pint of weak-ass beer,” he winced, “and we all know you don’t enjoy drinking.”

Shikamaru fished out a five pound note and held it out to him. “God, you’re a pain. Keep the change, now come on.”

“Shikamaru, you don’t want this. You’ll hate me tomorrow.”

“I said double, Choji.”

The blank stare he sent his friend’s way was enough to make Choji feel as if he’d lost a war, and he could feel the pit of his stomach growing emptier as he looked into the bleak abyss of Shikamaru’s eyes. He was going to ask what had happened but now, as he unwillingly lifted the transparent bottle and measured the liquor as required, he didn’t have the nerve. Something about the lifeless urgency in the voice of his best friend made him feel broken, and after he thought it was all getting better, too.

He snatched the money and put the glass before Shikamaru. “If it weren’t for the fact that my manager is really specific with the ‘refusal of service’ rule, you would not be getting this. You’re an idiot.”

“Love you, too,” sighed Shikamaru, swirling the glass around.

“I thought you wanted to get better Shikamaru,” growled Choji, shaking his head, “but then you do this and just let yourself regress. I swear to God if it’s that girl—”

“It’s not her.” He knocked back the drink, squeezing his eyes shut. “Man, I forgot how shit that tastes.”

Choji only had to take one look at his blank slate of a face to know what was happening. “You’re going to bloody order another one, aren’t you?”

“And I thought you quit your day job as a psychic.”

The sarcasm didn’t even begin to amuse Choji, who shook his head and failed to find words. Only after he’d been called to help someone, minutes of staring at his expectant looking friend later, that he managed to speak. “Fine. But I’m not playing any part in it; ask someone else.”

Shikamaru frowned. “Choji, come on.”

“No,” his friend called back as he walked to the other end of the bar. “I can’t do it.”

After only a couple of minutes of longingly waiting for Choji to come back and throw in the towel, Shikamaru could feel himself falling into that familiar feeling of glee. Unfortunately, he knew it wasn’t real—sadly for his wallet one double wasn’t enough to fool him into genuinely feeling happy—hence the need for another. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to do this. On occasions he’d always have one half and it would last him the whole night, and it would make him feel like he fitted in.

But this was no occasion; this was a desperate avoidance tactic, and he knew it. She was over there—the one person he simultaneously wanted to stare at the whole night and never wanted to see again—and he was painfully aware of it. He didn’t want to be aware of it.

He’d been to enough sessions with enough asshole therapists to know what he was doing, and he didn’t care—he didn’t care at all. There she’d been, suggesting to him that he was really only devoted to getting better, not feeling happy, and now he just wanted to scream, “Look at me!” until she took it back; until she took him back and rewired him as promise, fixed him as promised…

Of course, he didn’t do that. He couldn’t be bothered to do that. Instead he waved down the smiley brunette girl behind the bar and got himself the same again, and necked it instantly, forcing a smile at her afterwards when ordering another.

But the longer he sat there, the smaller he felt. It was like when he first did this, years ago, and it wasn’t washing over him the way he expected, the way he craved. Suddenly the bar stool he perched on felt to high, and his neck felt too cold, so he threw on his coat and hopped down, drinking that last whiskey and rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to Choji, and he couldn’t go home or else his mother would yell at him for drinking after so long of holding back.

Choji was right, no matter how much he’d deny it out loud. This was all because of her, that troublesome woman. Through nobody’s fault but his own he’d built her up as this fantasy saviour; the beautiful woman who cared about him no matter what, in a way he’d never even imagined before. And as much as he’d laugh off the ridicule from his friends about his many lonesome years, he really had never thought of anyone like that. Before this—this bizarre, impossible to pin feeling—he’d never wanted to spend time with someone just for the sake of it, and he’d never wanted to listen to someone talk about nothing like he did her.

“This is it, isn’t it?” he mumbled, so quiet he could barely hear himself. “She’s got me.”

He couldn’t leave, but he could hide from her until she left, and from Choji until the whiskey ran it’s course. And where could he hide in this pub that she was guaranteed not to go? Well, there was only one place that came to mind.

However, in his slightly drunken state as he shuffled towards his destination, the first thing Shikamaru had managed to forget that Temari still had eyes, no matter how blurry their vision was, and obviously she spotted him immediately. Stumbling to her feet, she told Gaara she was just nipping to the bathroom, and took her bag with her, slung haphazardly across her shoulder.

The second thing he forgot was that she definitely had the nerve to follow him into the men’s bathroom, and that he definitely wasn’t safe from her in there.

So, when she edged open the bathroom door, as subtly as a drunk woman can, and found him smoking next to a half opened window, she fumbled for the latch at the top of the door, locking it quickly. “You don’t drink my ass.”

Numbed, Shikamaru turned slowly, frowning in surprised. “T-Temari? What’re you—”

“You didn’t actually want to go out with me, did you?” She slurred her words into what almost sounded like three long words, and immediately Shikamaru realised he wasn’t nearly as drunk as thought he was; or as he wanted to be.

“What are you talking about?” he sighed, exasperated.

“That’s why you didn’t make any effort to impress me. You didn’t want to did you?”

Shikamaru couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness, tapping his cigarette out of the window and letting the ash fly into the wind. “Of course I wanted to,” he insisted. “I’m just useless, Tem.”

She blinked expectantly at him, shaking her head constantly. “Bullshit.”

“Temari…”

“Temari, what?” she laughed, clearly unamused as she waved her arms about dramatically. “Temari, I’m sorry I’m a miserable git. Temari, I’m sorry I lied to you. Temari, I’m sorry I made you fancy me.”

He rubbed his eyes with one hand and took a drag with the other, strategically blowing the smoke through the window. Nothing was coming to mind to respond to her—nobody had ever silenced him in the way she did, cornered him like she did, terrified him like she did.

And he almost craved it.

Trying his best to smile, he squished the butt of his cigarette on the windowsill and left it there, turning to look at her. She looked all the more beautiful tonight, but something deep within the dark depths of the subconscious he loathed so much was telling him that was due to the alcohol in both their systems, and the rosy cheeks hers had graced her with.

With all her could muster, Shikamaru leant against the wall next to the window, hands in the pocket of his coat, before he finally opened his mouth to tell the brutal truth, “Temari, I’m sorry I couldn’t bare the idea of not seeing you again.”

Yeah, right, he mused inside his mind. As if she’s going to remember that tomorrow.

Suddenly, unexpected to him, Temari dropped her bag and advanced on him, walking in jagged lines—intense zig-zags—and he could feel his knees begin the shake. “What the hell are you doing, Tem?”

“You didn’t get it, did you?” she asked, pulling one hand from his pocket and placing it on her waist.

Gulping, Shikamaru tried his best to remove it and stay calm, but every time he almost escaped her loosening grip she grabbed his hand tighter. In the end he just kept it there, and stared into her gorgeous teal eyes with the most passive desperation. “What?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips centimetres away from his. “Why I asked you to stop seeing me as a patient.”

When she bit her lip, despite all his attempts, Shikamaru felt his knees quiver more and more. “I, um,” he mumbled, voice managing to remain steady despite his body’s weakness. “I think I need to go find your brother, and—”

“No, please don’t,” begged Temari, her nose brushing against his so delicately.

There was no denying that he wanted to hold her, and he wanted to kiss her, just as she was clearly attempting. He couldn’t lie to himself and say he hadn’t had a sleepless night wondering what the hell would’ve happened if the other night this had happened instead of their sad reality. But he didn’t want it like this.

He could only just smell the floral notes of her perfume, over the alcohol that plagued the air, and while she smelt of sweet tropical juice rather than anything evenly mildly bad, he couldn’t change the truth: they were drunk, and he didn’t want it to happen this way.

“Temari,” he whispered. “Tem, are you paying attention?”

She hummed softly, her forehead flush against his now.

“We can’t do this, love.”

A soft moan fell from her lips, and the hairs on the back his neck stood on end. “Why not?” she whined.

“Because we’ll regret it,” he sighed, himself a little upset by the fact.

“I-I won’t,” insisted Temari, stubborn as ever.

“You will,” Shikamaru corrected, smiling slightly as he pushed her away. “Can I borrow your phone?”

She frowned and held onto his shoulders for support as she stumbled backwards. “Why?”

“I just want to let your brother know you’re okay.”

It took a long time of him standing with his hand out expectantly, but eventually Temari caved with a smirk and handed him her phone. While she wasn’t quite sure why she couldn’t have just done that, she didn’t question him. Probably because in that exact moment, she wasn’t quite sure about anything.

“There,” he mumbled, biting his lip as he handed it back. “I told him you’re getting some air and will probably make your own way home.”

“He won’t be fine with that.”

Buzz.

She looked down at her phone and the text message that appeared on the screen.

Gaara: Fine. See you later :)

“Okay, maybe he will,” groaned Temari, “but where the hell are we going?”

Shikamaru shrugged, hands in pockets as he watched, amused, as she tried to slot her phone into her bag. “I can take you home?”

“And risk Kankuro punching you?” she cackled laughing.

“Then that’s a no.”

“Take me home with you.”

He almost choked on his own spit. “What?”

“Please,” she whined. “Take me home with you.”

“No!”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll wake up in the night and punch me.” He could hear himself, and the melodrama he was spouting, but he still didn’t sound worried, as such.

“Then where?”

Shikamaru bit down on his lip and accepted the arm she slung around his shoulders. “I have an idea.”

~~~

“No.”

“But Choji,” he pleaded, this time taking the role of the whining one, “neither of us can go home.”

Choji shook his head. “I’m not giving you whiskey and letting you bang your therapist in the same night. I already feel like a shit friend as it is.”

“I’ve sabotaged myself here, man,” insisted Shikamaru. “And I promise we won’t do that. I just want to make sure she has somewhere to sleep, man.”

“She has a house!”

“Where she’ll talk about me and then everyone will feel even more shit than already.” He raised his eyebrows. “Man, I didn’t ask for her to follow me into the bathroom.”

Surprised, Choji’s mouth fell open. “She didn’t?”

“Yeah, she’s smashed.”

“She needs to go home.”

Shikamaru nodded, sighing.

“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”

“Only with the words, man. Brain is doing fine.”

Choji raised his eyebrows and smiled at his friend, pulling him in for a hug, which Shikamaru begrudgingly accepted. “If you hug me back you can have the keys to my flat?”

The thinner man hugged tighter than he ever had.

“They’re in my coat out back. Use that door.”

Shikamaru smirked. He had a true friend in this guy, and he found out as much more every single day.

~~~

Temari sighed, throwing her spoon into the plastic bowl Shikamaru had given her and fell back into the couch. “I can’t believe we’re literally above a fish and chip shop and you didn’t let me buy any.”

“You shouted at the guy that you would ‘kiss in return for fish’.”

“Damn right I did,” she laughed.

Shikamaru chuckled. “And I thought I was the asshole.”

“You definitely are.”

“Tem, I just cooked you pasta at, like, twelve-a.m.”

“You’re right,” nodded Temari. “You’re a saint.”

He looked over at her and smiled, almost sadly. Choji’s flat was very small, a room with a bed and a wardrobe, and another with a small kitchen and a couch, but Temari had made herself right at home. He couldn’t help but admire how she did that. Not taking into account the fact that she was drunk out of her mind, he also couldn’t believed the way she was slowly sinking towards him, arms wrapping around him.

“You’re wonderful, Maru.”

His eyebrows raised. “Maru. New one.”

Temari looked up, hurt. “You don’t like it.”

“I don’t care,” he mumbled. “You go ahead.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, tracing patterns on his chest through his shirt. “You’re really wonderful.”

“You said.” If you couldn’t see inside his head, you’d have thought he was fed up of hearing that brilliant sentence. “You should go to sleep, Tem,” he added, changing the subject.

“I was stupid to make you feel so small. I made you feel like shit, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t,” he lied, letting her position his arms to hold her. “Just get some rest.”

“You’re wonderful, you know?”

Shikamaru smiled, the most real and fulfilling smile he’d had in a long time. “So are you, Tem. So are you…”

[oblio-k]

ANYWAYS ive been working on a mila fic whenever im exhausted and here it is. whether it’s love or manipulation is up to the readers

Invitation

As Mila pulls a weed from the little garden she’s started behind her employer's mansion, she finds it hard to keep her mind from wandering. From thinking about how her life is so different now.

She forces herself to use the word different because if she uses another word she fears she may start crying. And if that happens, someone would undoubtedly see her, and her employer would take her aside and ask her if she was alright in a way that would sound kind but could drag any answer out of her that he wanted. She likes working for him and vastly prefers this life, this job to her old one. Crying will just make things difficult.

Master Tain had been cruel and treated her as if she was nothing if he noticed that she existed at all. She’d been on the receiving end of his wrath quite frequently and had been left with bruises more than she cared to admit.

Agent Tain is cruel, but never to her. To her, he’s careful and kind, respectful. He goes out of his way to spend time with her and never raises a hand to her. When he looks at her, he doesn’t look through her, and she’s glad to be acknowledged.

She knows he’s only so kind because she knows who he really is. Who he isn’t, rather. But she likes to think it’s also because they’re friends. Or, at least, are becoming friends.

But when she looks at him when he’s working, she’s reminded of how they met, and she can’t stop her hands from trembling just a bit. Before meeting Agent Tain, she’d only ever seen people die from old age or illness. She’d never seen people be murdered. She’d never seen people be or had been interrogated, never had to learn how to use a weapon-

“Miss Garak.”

When she stands and turns, Enabran is behind her. At first, his ability to sneak up on her, to appear out of nowhere, had scared her. Now, it still frightens her, but she doesn’t worry he will hurt her. He’s had so many opportunities to get rid of her, to eliminate the last person besides his superiors that knew his secret, but he’s never taken them. She is alive and unharmed, save for a scratch on her palm from a tool she’d grabbed the wrong end of while gardening.

Before she can greet him, she sees the wound cutting across his abdomen. It’s as if someone had slashed him with a sharp knife. One hand presses tightly against the large wound, like he’s keeping himself from spilling open, though it does nothing to stop the flow of blood. A smaller puncture wound by his clavicle bleeds profusely. She forces herself to get over her shock after looking at each injury and takes his free arm around her shoulders. He leans against her and she helps him inside.

It’s not the first time he’s come to her with injuries, and she can never tell if he is in pain. Enabran is silent as they walk to the master bedroom, and his breathing is steady. It’s not typical for an Obsidian Order agent to appear immune to any injury, from what she’s overheard and seen.

She’s not entirely sure she knows why that is. Mila suspects he’s not a normal agent, that these assassination and interrogation attempts come so frequently because he is proof of something his superiors would very much like to erase.

He sits on the edge of his bed and she washes the dirt from her hands and retrieves the medical kit he has hidden away. It takes a moment for the wall panel to open when she lets it scan her palm, and when she turns around, Enabran is pulling off his bloodied, torn shirt. There are no wounds on his back, and he lies down as she opens up the kit next to him.

Mila doesn’t understand why he trusts her. Still, she dutifully heals him and when the medical scanner picks up an odd substance in his system, she asks, “Have you been poisoned, sir?”

“It’s a truth serum,” he replies, an odd smile on his face. His voice is completely level, as if he hadn’t almost bled to death.  “A very strong one.”

“But it doesn’t work on you.”

“Of course it d-doesn’t.” His voice cracks, and he closes his eyes. But he’s too late to hide it when she’s looking directly at him. His pupils dilate. Bizarrely, he begins to laugh. “Why would it work? I’m Cardassian.”

It means something, that. An inside joke that she’s not privy to the context of. But Enabran glances at her, an invitation for her to investigate. He won’t be upset if she finds out what that means- he wants her to, she’s almost sure. The secret she knows could destroy everything he’s worked for, what’s another?

“Miss Garak, are you finished?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you. Would you get me a cup of tea?” Master Tain had never thanked anyone. Agent Tain never thanked anyone unless he was manipulating them, and even then, only rarely. Enabran always thanks her. She likes to think it’s genuine. He rubs his eyes as she turns, and sits up.

He has a small tea set in his bedroom, a little burner and a few boxes of the different teas he’s collected on his travels. It’s an indulgence of his, and he’ll get a distant look in his eyes for a moment when she hands the cup to him.

She’s thrilled and worried about noticing and knowing these little details about him. It’s an exposure of that part of him from before.

A weakness he would cease if she dared to point it out.

“Make a cup for yourself,” he adds.

“Yes, sir.”

She picks an herbal blend with a pleasant taste she knows will help with his recovery and help relax her nerves. Blood still isn’t something she’s very used to, especially not large quantities of it. Perhaps in a few years, it won’t faze her.

A few years. She’ll be lucky if he lets her live that long, and she’s not sure what she’s feeling when she realizes she only ever thinks about her future being here, serving him.

By the time the tea is done, he’s changed into fresh clothing, a garish orange turtleneck covered by a drab green shirt, with black pants that don’t match the rest of the outfit at all. Fashion is not something he’s good at, but then again, he seems to be good at everything if asked. She’s sure if she requested it, and he was so inclined, he could choose an outfit fitting of his position as heir to the Tain fortune.

As he takes the cup from her and doesn’t even check it for poison, she thinks to herself that he would very likely be inclined to do what she asked. But she won’t. She knows her place.

“Miss Garak, how is your garden?”

“It’s doing quite well. My brother sent me some seeds to try growing, and they’ve finally begun to sprout.”

“Tolan, correct?”

“Yes, sir.” She’d never told him her brother’s name before. “I’m afraid I’ll never quite meet his skill for flowers.”

“I never understood why people enjoy flowers so much.”

“They’re beautiful. People like to look at nice things.” He opens his mouth to say something and hesitates. Perhaps the truth serum is affecting him more than he wants to admit, though she doesn’t know what he could possibly say about flowers that he wouldn’t want anyone to hear. She asks a question that she thinks will be inconsequential, “If there’s anything you would like to see in the garden, I would plant it for you.”

“No. I’m sure whatever you grow will look beautiful.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Though perhaps you should grow more edible plants than flowers. It’s been quite some time since I was last able to eat something that I’d picked myself.” That distant look. Then his pupils grow large and he looks down at his tea as he says, “When I was a boy, my caretakers would take me on walks around the estate grounds after I’d finished my studies for the morning. We’d eat from the garden until lunch was ready. It was nice.” They’re as wide as she’s ever seen on anyone as he finishes.

Before she can offer her own story about her and her brother enjoying fruits and vegetables from their father’s garden, he asks her, “Miss Garak, do you know how to play kotra?”

“I’m familiar with the title, not with the rules,” Mila answers, dropping the sir to see what he hopes to gain by teaching a servant a complicated game.

A smile tugs at his lips, and he gets up and pretends not to have noticed. “It’s a game I quite enjoy. I believe you would be a good player.” He retrieves a board from within his desk and brings back to the bed. “I was taught how to play when I was young.”

She expects to find a knife at her throat in an hour, then. “I don’t expect you to play any way but your best, sir, despite my inexperience.”

“Kotra is a game about bold tactical strategy…”

Sure enough, after having quickly lost two games against him and arguing with him after she realized he was allowing her to win their third match, a disruptor is pressed against her throat, her wrists held tight in his other hand. She hadn’t even seen him grab it.

“I think I need to get back to work, Miss Garak,” he tells her, voice cold.

Enough was enough. He couldn’t risk appearing close to her so soon after an incident. Quietly, she agrees, but he doesn’t let her go.

“You understand, don’t you, Mila?” It was too dangerous for them to be friends. To be whatever they were. Mila wonders which one of them he’s afraid for.

After all, why should he care if something happens to her? Attachment was a weakness. He’d said so himself to another agent, and for once, she was absolutely certain he had been honest. “Yes, sir.”

It’s even more likely that he’s not worried at all, that all this is a game to keep her quiet. Still, she enjoyed their time together and will look forward to the next, if it comes.

Agent Tain releases her, lowering the disruptor.

[michaelreaderreblog]

My truemate pt10

Catch up here ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

*************************************************************

Word Count: 2,515

“Its nice to meet you Dean, Y/n you know its ok I can find a ride to pick me up. I can call my brother, you dont need to drop me off” he says stepping away from you and you go stand beside Sam.

“You know thats how exactly you look like when you saw Sarah at the sewing shop” you whisper to him as the both of you look at Dean who is just struggling to form anything together.

“Are you sure? I have no problems with driving you home” you say to Castiel while he is dialing his brothers number on his cell phone.

“Michael, would it be alright if you came to pick me up at 174 Poughkeepsie Road?” Castiel goes silent for a moment for his brother to answer his question.

“I work with y/n, she hired me today” he goes silent again.

“Ok I will wait here then” he hangs up the phone with his brother.

“Is he going to pick you up?” Sam asks breaking the silence that has been lurking in the office.

“Yeah he said he is going to be by in a minute, he said he was doing a delivery near by and said wouldnt be a problem” he says getting his jacket from the couch.

“I could walk you to the door and wait with you outside” you say moving to the door.

“I could” Dean finally says after so long.

“NO!! Sam stay with Dean while I go wait with Castiel” you growl to Dean and Sam does what he is being told.

Castiel who looks on and has a smile on his face while walking out of the office with you.

“Well seems as though I found my mate” he says as you both walk out of the house and sit on the porch steps to wait for his brother to drive up the long drive way to pick up Castiel.

“Well so much for us adopting” you say while looking away from Castiel almost sounding hurt at the rejection and he looks to you with a wide smile and gives out a slight chuckle.

“Sorry about that” Castiel says while he sits on the front porch steps waiting for his brother.

“What does he smell like to you?” you ask out of curiosity and wanted to make sure he will treat Dean right just like you hope your brother would do the same.

“His scent smells like wood shavings, a very pleasant musk, and if I concentrate enough I can smell a rain forest. His scent tells me he is a hard working man who provides for his family, protects whats his and someone who is kind. It even also smells like mine” he says while closing his eyes to memorize the scent Dean gave off back in the office.

As soon as he finishes and opens his eyes is when Michael pulls into the drive way and parks in front of the house. He steps out of his truck and immediately you can smell his scent and all you wanted to do was attack him until his knot swelled up inside you.

“Y/n? You are beginning to smell like slick, you having your heat?” Castiel asks as he gets up from the step to go into the truck.

“What? No. I will see you tomorrow ok. Bye Castiel” you say as you rush into the house before Michael could catch your scent that Castiel as has picked up once you got up from the steps.

“That was rather abrupt, I didnt get the chance to introduce you to her” he says coming down the stairs and stands beside his brother.

“Its alright Castiel, I already met her” Michael says opening the door for his younger brother.

“Oh you have? When?” he asks getting into the passenger side.

“The first day they got here, they came by Connor's diner. Dick of course was being a Dick towards Y/n and yeah Im pretty sure you know how that goes” he says putting the truck in reverse.

“You were there when all that happened?” he asks looking to his older brother.

“Yeah I was there. Anna was away on business and I didnt feel like cooking so thats where I went” he says looking away from the road to look at his brother for a quick second.

“Yeah I wouldnt want to eat your cooking either so good call on going to the diner” he says smiling to his brother and getting a chuckle out of Michael.

“Hey watch it little brother, I could just toss you out and make you walk home” he says while he gently hits his arm they both laugh at the retort.

“How did you get the job with Y/n?” Michael asks as he focuses on the road.

“I think mom told her and today she called and asked if I could come in. I agreed but we are going to do a week trial to see how things go between me and the work along with her and I” Castiel says looking to his brother.

“Well Im happy for you, keep your mind off things” Michael says quietly as he looks away from Castiel.

“Castiel, I know its been tough and still is. I just want to tell you I am very happy, relieved, grateful, and thankful you are still here because I dont know what I would do if I lost you. Or how mom and dad would feel. What Lucifer did and how he passed is a way of showing how much he sacrificed himself to have you here. The loss of Lucifer still affects us all today but when we look at you, its a feeling you have no idea on how we feel because we love you so very much for you to be here never forget that. I know you carry around this feeling of guilt but I just want you to hear it from me that its not your fault, you are living proof that Lucifer died a hero and living proof that there could be goodness in the world.” Michael says as he pulls the truck over to move closer to his brother, places a hand on his shoulder while he tells him.

Michael didnt realize how teary eyed he got when tears started to fall and land on his leg. Castiel sits there speechless about what his brother is telling him and how incredibly relieved he feels for hearing that for the first time, he didnt think that his brother would feel this way.

“Thank you Michael really. Dad has told me this before and I know how much it hurts you along with our parents to see me this way. I just miss him so much” Castiel says quietly as they pull into town and getting near the house.

“I miss him as well. Even though we had our differences that doesnt change one bit on how much I love him. I miss him dearly.” Michael says as he keeps driving.  

“There is another thing that I want to tell you before I drop you off” he says driving by their parents house and turning unto another street to turn around to drive towards Connor's diner.

“Ok but where are we going?” he asks looking at the house they are driving away from.

“We are going to the diner because I dont want mother eaves dropping on our conversation. I know how she is going to react about what I am about to tell you.” he says getting onto the street where the diner in located.

“Is Anna pregnant?” he asks whipping his head to his brother.

“No, she isnt. Its a health problem if she is pregnant, you should know that” he answers his brother and turning into the parking lot of the diner.

“Yeah but with safety precautions it can be possible” he says looking around the parking lot to see if the evening rush has busied the diner.

Its a health risk if a Beta becomes pregnant knowing that their bodies arent equipped the same way as an Omega who can birth pups very easily the way they are suppose to. Its a toss between the Beta dying during pup birth or having a miscarriage early in the pregnancy.

With safety precautions from the Doctor and taken very seriously will ease the Beta into a risk free delivery and the pup will be as healthy. If these instructions werent taken seriously then there would be a risk of miscarriage and that happens mostly if it werent taken seriously by the Doctor.

Both brothers get out of the truck to walk in the direction of the main entrance, Michael opens the door for Castiel to walk in first.

They seat themselves at a two person table in the middle of the diner and a waitress comes to take their drink order.

“Well its the Cuthbert boys, glad to see you Castiel” Dorothy says.

“Well its good to see you to Dorothy” he says looking to her with a smile on his face.

“What can I get ya?” she asks taking out a note pad from her apron pocket.

“I'll have coffee and water.” Michael answers looking up to Dorothy.

“Ok, how about you Castiel?” she asks nodding in agreement with Michaels drink order.

“I will have a tea and water” he answers her.

“Alright I will be right out, just let me know if either of you want something to eat” she says and walks away from the table to get the coffee for Michael and tea for Castiel.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he looks to his older brother.

“Its about y/n” is all Michael says looking to his younger brother.

“What about her?” he asks almost sounding like he doesnt want him to answer that question but is curious to what he will say.

“She is my mate, my true mate” he says with a smile forming at the corners of his mouth.

“What? What about Anna?” he asks.

“I havent told her yet and Im working up to it” he says looking away from him and looks to Dorothy who brings out their drinks.

“Michael you better tell her. If y/n truly is your mate then what does she smell like?” he asks leaning in closer to him.

“Her scent smells like freshly grinded coffee, with the smell of banana's and a sweet smell of caramel” he says with a smile on his face and looking to his brother.

“What does that tell you?” he asks giving his older brother a questioning look.

“Hard working, vibrant, nurturing, and mine” he says.

“I have always wanted a mate who is as hard working as I am and not just an Omega whose only job is to give birth to my pups or only serves me just because society has told them to. I just want an equal and she is my equal. I still have to talk to Anna about this. There was a time when she said she would let me go if my true mate ever came along” he says taking a sip from his coffee.

“And what about now? You think she is going to do that?” Castiel asks unsure if Anna will give up that easily knowing how in love she is with Michael.

“I dont know but I do hope that she understands, I have always said I wanted to settle with my true mate. I know how this sounds so unfair but cant seem to take y/n off my mind” Michael says to his brother.

“Yeah it does sound unfair. You want to know what I think though?” he asks his older brother.

“Please enlighten me from the guilt I am having right now because I have someone who is Anna when my true mate lives in the same town as us” he sighs in defeat.

“I think you should end things with Anna and explain yourself. I know she will understand when there is a true mate involved, dont get me wrong I like Anna but you deserve a true mate and thats y/n. I want to see you truly happy Michael I mean really happy” he says to his older brother in hopes he would do the right thing in talking to Anna.

They both finish of their coffee and Tea to pay for their drinks and head on home.

After you rush inside the house and lean against the door to wait for the slick to settle but that doesnt happen. You didnt feel uncomfortable well other than whats dripping from you and went rushing down the stairs to go into the room that was made specifically for your heats. Dean and Sam are still in your office and you heard them call for you.

“Not right now guys” you say while closing the room door behind you to lock it.

You go through the closet to look for the box of toys that were placed in there during the time while moving into the house.

“Your heat coming on?” Dean asks faintly on the other side of the closed door.

“Dean please not right now” you yell back and finally looking for the box, you opened it to find what exactly you were looking for.

You strip off your clothes as fast as you could when you stumbled on top of the bed to get your jeans off.

After several minutes to your self well pleasing yourself, you dress slowly to get out of the room and up the stairs to the main bathroom to shower.

“Y/n what was that all about?” Dean asks as soon as you enter the kitchen.

“Really? You want me to answer that?” you ask while turning beet red out of embarrassment.

“How many times have I told you not to be ashamed of your heats, especially when telling me because I dont want anything happening to you during those times. You know what happens when your heat comes along, you get severely dehydrated and thats what always scares me the most.” he says looking at you with fear all over him and you can even smell it off of him, you get up from your chair to embrace him with a hug.

“I know, calm down. It wasnt my heat, Michael came by to pick up Castiel and um” you pull away from Dean at the mentions of Michael's name and look away from him.

“Ohh” is all that he could say and continue on what he was doing which is cooking.

“The mate thing really hit ya hard huh” he says while he makes a pot of coffee.

Dean has always worried about you when your heats came along, the first time you presented as Omega is when you got severely dehydrated and passed out in bed. He came into the room and placed you in the bathroom to let the cool water run and placed you in the tub to cool you off.

**********************

TAGLIST

@freerebelmentality

@enthusedbycuriosity

@sia-del

@animegirlgeeky

[melzan-of-bregan-daerthe]

Elient the 5th 1489 / Night 1 in Barovia

The sound of hurried tiny feet could be heard as Melzan waited silently in her room. With a crash the door burst open, an out of breath and rosy cheeked halfling appeared bearing a wine bottle in each hand. “Alrightly then. Let’s get this party started!” Nessa strode happily into the room, closing the door as she entered. With ease she jumped onto the bed and began to work at opening one of the bottles.

Melzan smiled and locked the door, then the windows. She took the bulk of her armor off before smiling. She wore fine silk under her armor. With a big smile she hopped onto the bed with Nessa. Reaching out, she gently, to avoid pip and elana, pet the halflings hair.

"Yes, lets get this 'party' started. What does one do at a slumber party? Drink and eat? I do like both of those activities," Melzan giggled.

Nessa smiled as she felt the gentle pat atop the head. It brought back many memories…With a gleeful squeal she opened the first bottle. She turned her head to and fro as she scanned the place and sighed. “Ugh…I think I forgot the glasses.” She chuckled awkwardly.

“At a slumber party?” She tilted her head to the side and pondered the question. “I can’t quite say. Never had one myself. Food and drink sound excellent though!”

"That's okay, we can share. I don't have any diseases," she pulled Nessa into a gentle one arm hug and took one of the two bottles to start drinking.

They were most likely going to die here, but for now they were alive and she planned on keeping it that way as long as possible. Melzan liked Nessa. The little halfling was sweet and had a huge heart even if it was mostly filled with the desire for gold.

"I think just drinking and eating will be okay. We'll create our own slumber party."

"Yes!" Ellana nodded and flew around them. Melzan brought out a small cup from her mess kit and filled it with some wine so she could have some.

Nessa clumsily tried to steady the wine bottle as she was briskly wrapped into a warm embrace. Giddy laughter filled the room.

“We certainly will!” Nessa’s smiled as she watched Ellana flit down towards the cup for a drink. She raised her own bottle to her lips and poured a generous amount. Grape Mash…How long had it been? Months? The dark rich flavor flowed down her throat. Oh the Wizards of Winery sure did know how to make a good drink. She thought back to those cheery nights in the back room of the winery with Raph…up all night drinking and talking of better times. A small smile curled up her lips.

She let out a pleasant sigh. Her eyes peered towards Melzan with interest. “So, why do you…ummm..how is it that you…why do you look like a girl now?”

Melzan smiled sweetly and pressed her forehead against Nessa's. For a little while she just enjoyed the closeness before moving back and getting her book out of her bag.

"My goddess... She prefers female worshipers to access her powers. Though very rarely, she choses male ones. Like myself. Though to get closer to her, and obtain our power, she allows us to become her gender. We develop a connection with her and whenever we feel the need to be close with her, we can to a ritual to feel that again. Normally it wears off after I've completed something she wishes me too. So I'm not going to be a girl forever, but this isnt' the first or the last time I will be one."

She opened up the book to the chapter with the ritual. Everything was in elvish but the drawings were clear and obvious. There were female drow dancing nude under the moon.

Nessa grinned happily as she felt Melzan’s warm touch against her forehead. Was this what family was like?

The halfling listens attentively to Melzan’s peculiar tale. “Eilistraee prefers female worshipers hmmm? Is that why you think I’m the one she sent you to find?” She furrows her brow, deep in thought. “But I, I don’t have any magic talent like you do…unless you consider what happens to me when it’s a…” her face pales a little bit as she remembers the torturous transformations she must endure.

She drinks another sip of wine as Melzan brings out her large tome and opens it on the bed. “Well that’s not something you see everyday.” Her fingers trace along the foreign elven script as she eyes the drawing with interest. “Is this one of those kind of books? The ones the boys get all excited about?” She chuckles and removes her hand from the parchment.

“You do rituals…like that?” Her dart from the book and back to Melzan as she pries for answers. “What’s it like?! So does she give you any hints then? For these tasks you are to complete?”

"That is, also she doesn't just need magic users. She just enjoys helping people and bringing them hope. She cares about outcasts and those that don't feel like they have a place," Melzan explained and pulled Nessa closer for a squeeze.

When she mentioned the book being one of 'those kind's that made boys excited she didn't understand. She never considered it anything more than artistic.

"Most the time, when we dance we dont' want to hide anything from her. We want to show her everything. We don't really regard nudity the same as most surface cultures. It's not really all that exciting most of the time."

Melzan loved the questions and she smiled honestly as she turned the page and began to explain. "I do, they are amazing, and take my breath away. Dancing under the stars and enjoying pure song and a type of joy I've never know. Sometimes there are drinks and kissing, but not much more than that in my experience. As for hints, normally I get visions or I just have to ask myself, 'What would she want me to do? What would be the right thing?'. Sometimes I don't always know the answer."

“Hope, huh?” Her face saddens a bit. Did they even have a chance? She gazed back towards Melzan with her hazel eyes. “…you…you mean to say she welcomes anyone?” Seconds later she was enveloped by another comforting hug. Was this what Melzan was like? He…or she seemed so different than Nessa thought she would be. Sure she knew what a badass fighter Melzan was…Nessa admired the way she took down that warlock and massive shadow dragon. But all of this…this compassion…it was an unexpected surprise for Nessa.

“So you leave it all out in the open then during that moonlit dance? Huh. I don’t know if I would be able to do that.” She chuckles to herself.

Nessa stretched out on the bed, wine glass in hand and peered at the tome. “Dancing amongst the stars, huh?” She thought back to the night before and smiled. Despite the exhaustion that followed her transformation she had twirled beneath the moonlit sky without a care in the world. A gentle hand leading and guiding her. “That sounds mighty nice.” Her cheeks burn slightly as she hears the talk of kissing during the rituals. She bashfully sips more wine. “Y-you have visions? H-how do you know that they are…are that? And not dreams?” She looks at him curiously. “It seems like so much of a guessing game then. These mini quests.”

"Anyone. No dance required. If you need hope, a place to belong, believe in freedom and that slavery is something that should be demolished, she'll welcome you. You don't have to dance naked either. But you might be even closer to her than I am now that you are a weretiger. Your more closely connected to the moon," Melzan enjoyed being with Nessa.

She didn't have to worry about fearing her. If she tried to kill her, then Melzan could handle it very easily. She'd lived with rogues and murderers so Nessa would be simple to take care of if it came to that. Melzan also promised to Illiad that she'd watch over this little halfling.

“She seems pretty alright…this goddess of yours. R-Really? You think that she’d accept me for being a…a were tiger.” She whispered the last word, still not comfortable saying it. Bajarni had taught her many things that night but what she was, it would take a bit more time to accept it all. For now…for now she at least had a purpose. Her eyes flared with rage as she recalled her vow.

“What else is in this book of yours?” Her hands reach out to brush the pages edge.

"Just stories and rituals. Information about her. It's something that many people want to destroy. No matter what, I need to protect it," Melzan let Nessa look through the book. "Also, I'm positive she'd accept you if you wished to worship her. She accepted me as a Drow. SHe even accepts orcs, and honestly anyone else who wants to do good for the world."

“They would want to destroy it, but why?” She lightly traces the edge of the drawing. The halfling hadn’t seen much art…it was…it was magical. “Who would want to destroy something so beautiful?” Nessa propped herself up on the bed and swirled the wine at her hand. Hear ears perked up upon hearing who Eilistraee accepted. A light smile played on her face.

“Say Melzan. What do you think of the lot of us? Do you think we stand a chance here?"

"The spider goddess... Lolth. The one most drow worship. She hates Eilistraee and wishes to kill her and snuff out those who worship her," Melzan looked into Nessa's eyes and smiled.

"I think that, after spending these last two weeks with you, that Milo is the heart of the group. He's innocent and pure of heart. That you have so much passion and compassion for those around you that you'll likely do something foolish, but I think we'll be there. That you care deeply for those you consider friends. You seem to want to bring as much joy as you can to those you care for. Not to mention you have a thing for gold. Illiad, well, he's hurting and an idiot, and a fool, and a good fighter and singer, decent with the lute..." Melzan thought about it.

"Samuel is smart, but definitely not much practical knowledge in these lands. He's from a place far away from what I can tell and Igor is well, a zombie gnome. I'm not exactly happy about that, but... All in all, we're going to wipe the floor with Strahd. I believe we will. I know my Goddess wouldn't send me into something hopeless, as I've said before. We will win. I know it."

“Spider goddess? A thing like that exists?” Her mouth opens slightly in surprise.

With her free hand Nessa gently caresses a smooth stone necklace at her neck. Her fingers gently trace the ruins embedded in it. “Milo…I-I hope he’s okay. I can’t believe he slipped through our fingers…” Her eyes burn deeply with regret. “Ha. Something foolish? I would never do that!” She sticks out her tongue and continues to finish off her bottle. “I DO have a thing for gold. I’d gladly take any off of your hands.” She flashes a wry smile.

Upon hearing about Iliad her cheery facade cracks for but a second. That stupid idiot… “I saw you two were enjoying yourself with those vistani women. What exactly were you up to?”

“I don’t know. He seemed capable enough in these lands. Did you TRY one of those apples? They were delicious! You really think we’re capable defeating him? I mean I thought ‘we’ were before…” Her eyes fall downward as her face darkens.

"Well, I'll make sure that any silver or something you have I'll trade you gold for," Melzan said with a smile. "At least when I can spare it. As for the spider goddess, yes, she is evil. Absolute evil and terror and.." Melzan reached to touch her side near where her belly button would be, but to the left.

With a shake of her head she relaxed and thought about what she and Illiad had done.

"Well, we wanted to get information, and people are more vulnerable if they think you're a clueless couple so... we pretended that we were going to be wed at some point. We learned about the laws, where a good dress shop is, when the wedding is going to be. That sort of stuff. About the new Sheriff which... Illiad looked so pale when they mentioned the new sheriff. I also did not try one of the apples. A bit too busy trying to figure out a plan as to what to do."

She leaned a little against Nessa, and moved her hand up to brush her fingers through the halfling's hair. "Yes. I believe we will beat him. Even if it's not true, I need to believe we can, or else we wont..."

“Thanks for that. I appreciate it. I’m still not used to the whole silver thing.” Nessa eyes Melzan curiously as she touches her side. A war wound perhaps? Had she dealt with this god before?

“Ohhhh. So that’s what you were up to. You two looked absolutely ridiculous. What was up with those voices?” She chuckles to herself as she remembers. “If there is a new sheriff in town, I’m sure it won’t be good. Come on now Melzan. It was only an apple. Planning could wait.”

A tiny mouse scampered out from under Nessa’s scarlet locks. He traveled down her shoulder, squeaking in protest, until it found itself in her lap. Nessa giggled and stroked his head to calm him. “It’s only Melzan silly. She won’t do anything.” Her hair bobbed slightly as she looked up at Melzan. “Yeah….I suppose…” The tiny halfling took in what the drow had to say. Was believing enough?

“Hey Melzan, can I uh ask a favor of you?” Nessa uneasily looked over to the edge of the room, she gently stroked Pip’s head with a single finger. “Since you're always around Iliad can you uh...I don’t know...can you make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid…something that he’ll regret?” Nessa looks solemnly at the remaining red liquor as she swirls it in the bottle. “He’s done some pretty...pretty bad stuff in the past that I couldn’t sto…” She slowly looks up and stares Melzan straight in the eyes, her gaze unwavering. “He can get into this...this rage...and I fear for what it will do to him…So, c-can you do that you think? For little ‘ole me?” The familiar smile crawls across her lips.

"I'll do that," Melzan said with a nod. "As best I can I'll try to make sure that he doesn't do anything too stupid. I've done some rather horrible things in my life too... I didn't always have Eilistraee as my patron." she said softly.

“G-good. Thanks Melzan.” She lets out a deep sigh. “Soooo shall we finish the rest of this wine then? The night is still young!” Nessa laughs gleefully and raises the bottle in the air with a grin.

"Yes!" Melzan nodded and raised up her bottle before taking a very long drink.

[proteus-no]

i really really really really wished that in da2 anders and fenris relationship wasnt “youre a mage, mages abused me, so all mages are abusers, and i hate you” “you hate mages, and support the circle of magi, and i am an apostate so i hate you”

like, image if thats how their relationship was in the first act, because it’s hard to get over ones predjudices. but in the second act? its about two men who have had a long history of suffering at the hands of their abusers learning to trust and support each other. fenris learning through experience, not just people saying, that not all mages are evil and selfish, expecially not anders, and that the circle abuses mages just like any slave. and anders respecting the fact that fenris hatred comes from past abuse, and not invalidating his experiences with “not every mage”

maybe a cutscene where if you go to talk to anders with fenris in your party of them walking in, and anders is healing escapes slaves and apostates. the apostates were running away when they came across slavers. they killed them, and risked coming back to kirkwall to make sure they were healed and help find them new lives. anders doesnt judge when one of the slaves had obviously been sexually assaulted. he exhausts all his manna, to the point of  collapsing, just to make sure the slaves didnt hurt, and gives them his food, coins, and clothes, even offering a few of them refuge in his clinic, both for shelter and for safety. fenris doesnt comment on it, but he reluctantly offers protection for the apostates during their journey out of the city.

or alternatively, if you have anders in your party when you talk to fenris, anders comes bearing wine, apologizing for how terribly he acted in the past to fenris. fenris gets all snappy, saying he doesnt want his apologies, that they mean nothing coming from an abomination. he goes as far as accusing anders of doing this because hawke said so/as a joke/or to take advantage of him (depending of what kind of hawke you have). anders, who is just trying to be nice, demands to know why fenris cant just be civil for once in his life. fenris says its because hes a mage, and mages always have ulterior motives. anders loses it, justice almost coming out, saying that the peace offering wasnt coming from a mage, it was coming from a man who had every last shred of who he was and his dignity taken from him by his abusers, and wanted to make ammends with someone who knew what that was like, and leaves in a storm, stating hed rather not add any more members to the corpse party. but leaves behind the bottle of wine

and companion party dialogue of anders and fenris awkwardly trying to get along. like fenris stating that anders didnt smell as much like shit today, or anders saying fenris isnt a beast, but if he was one, he would be a mabari. or the two of them bickering over cheating during wicked grace, or even an awkward one night stand that fenris said “wasnt completely unsatisfactory” and anders thought of as “rather pleasant, compared to what he was expecting”. fenris says, however, it was nice to be able to trust a mage like that. if isabella is in the party, she pesters them about it, to which anders respond that even though it wasnt bad, it was so awkward afterwards that he is never sleeping with fenris ever again, no offense.

and then in act three, fenris tries to keep of their friendly yet awkward banter, but anders has gone so far off the deep end, he takes everything as an insult and gets agressive and rude with fenris. it goes as far as one cutscene, if you have fenris when you go to talk to anders, or vice versa, that anders  accuses fenris of selling him out to meredith, saying he say him talking with them, and he knew he should have never of trusted fenris in the first place. fenris storms out, saying he isnt going to fight anders over this. theres a later cutscene, if hawke figures out what happens, that they make anders talk with fenris, where fenris tells him that he was paying the templars off to continue their search for apostates elsewhere, perhaps the blooming rose. anders reluctantly apologizes, saying he acted terribly and out of turn, and he understands if fenris does not forgive him. fenris says anders will have to earn back his forgiveness, perhaps starting with buying him wine at the hanged man, with a smile on his face. a later talk with fenris  reveals that fenris thinks that anders is losing it, and that hawke needs to do something before his demon kills them all

when anders blows up the chantry, instead of suggesting killing anders, fenris would instead swear and curse the fool for being so idiotic and childing. he says that even though he comitted terrible actions, he is still worth redeeming, as he did what he had to for his people, but if he is beyond all hope of saving, anders might have to be killed

okay so this went on for a lot longer than i wanted to, but im really passionate about two abused men supporting and understanding each other!!!!

[sadhappyalienunicorn-blog]

my waking nightmare (pt.1)

as we all know, as kids we start dreaming. sometimes those dreams become nightmares just because, sometimes those dreams are sweet and pleasant such as waking up and receiving a thousand hugs from ten thousand lightning bugs. other times your dreams can turn dark and those lightning bugs become mosquitoes that instead of hugging you give you the west nile virus and you wake up in a dead sweat because your dream turned dark fast, some of you may yell and cry for you mom or dad to come and they will comfort you back to sleep and your nightmare would be over; or so you thought. when you have depression simple day-to-day activities become a nightmare. for example, with me, the ghostwriter behind this screen, waking up in the morning is a struggle. but at the same time, going to bed at night is also a struggle. no im not sleep deprived because i get a good 8-10 hours of sleep a night, but the thing is, when my mind wanders it doesnt stop. i will be up at 2am (current time for me) and i will be wondering about life and start philosophizing about where we all came from and some how that will bring me to thinking about all the murderers and terrorists in the world and i wont go to sleep until 6-7-8am. you see, life is easy and all, but with a traumatic childhood and a dysfunctional family since you were 8, life isnt all rainbows and butterflies anymore. life turns more into dragons and dark colors, because all the life is being sucked out of you with the uneasiness of the future brewing deep inside. and at a young age, we cant always know what we are really feeling. when we are young are parents will always ask us things like “dear are you happy?” instead of the more elaborative question “how are you feeling after so and so did this?” or “how would you feel if we did this instead of this?” these are such simple questions with not so simple answers. thats kinda how life is. simple problems with not so simple answers. i roam the streets of my hometown in the broad daylight and it seems like a happy and swell place and all, but if you look closely we all have our own problems and our own emotions behind the masks we wear for the world. because as much as people call others selfish for hiding their emotions, its not really selfish because (be real with me here for a second) would you want to walk around a town where everyone is constantly depressed and sad and showing all their emotions while they are out in public instead of the confines of their own home? I used to be the kid that showed everyone my emotions and i would get bullied because i was “too caring” or “too emotional” and stuff. thats the kind of stuff that pushed me into creative outlets, such as drawing, writing, sewing, and singing (even though i sound like a dying cat- sorry whiskers). because that way i could express myself in a way only few people understand and not have to always explain myself. i actually hate telling people how i feel now a days because the no one cares anymore. its 20-freaking-17!! everyone would rather ignore the ones they love or like thinking that they will still like/love them. in today’s world, we are turning into robots,(what’s that? how you ask?) because society thinks that it’s cool not to have/show feelings towards other people than to actually walk up to someone and strike up a conversation. why? beats me! but i do know one thing, from the time we started pre-school probably, your parents always told you “ if timmy is mean to you that means he likes you” and little sally will always go to school and get picked on by timmy, and when little sally tries to speak up she says “my mom said that since you pick on me that means you like me,” -pause for a second- why did our parents tell us that? that teaches 1.) girls to go after guys who are mean to them because it means ‘they like her’ and 2.) it teaches guys to be douchebags to girls because then they will go after them. if i ever decide to have kids, im not telling them that if timmy is mean to them that means they like them and so on and so forth. i will tell my kids that if someone is mean to you, not to be mean back, but be kind to them. because sometimes its the ones that hurt others that are hurting the most themselves.

all that is just one aspect of my waking nightmare. 

Logging off for now

~your typical* teenage alien :(:

*not really typical*