#so you will have to be subjected to a glorified stream of thought

[takethistoyourstardust]

Mage Ranks the JD2023E Map… Locked Out of Heaven

IT’S BLORBO TIME BITCHES. Um, I mean, we’re getting a bit dramatic now in our story line, as we meet Jack Rose, the flamboyant superstar son of our main villain!

MAP: Locked Out of Heaven - Bruno Mars DIFFICULTY: Medium EFFORT: Moderate JD+ NEEDED?: No SEASON: Base game/Enter the dancerverses playlist

Category Seven Autism Event inbound under the cut! Seriously, though, this one is long, ramble-y, and overall just a big excuse for me to infodump the fuck out of this map. It might not make a lot of sense, but putting it all down made me happy, so I hope it makes you happy to read it :)!

--

I don’t need to tell you this song is good, right? It’s Bruno fuckin’ Mars, of COURSE it’s good! This song was actually pre-Uptown Funk, and it’s honestly one of his best songs from that time. I actually hated a lot of early Bruno Mars stuff (Grenade my beloathed), but now he’s probably one of my favorite vocalists. So yeah, I don’t need to tell you the song fucks! You already know that!

However, it’s the way that this song is used that fascinates me. The original context of the song is just “wanting to spend the night at someone’s house because they’re real good in the sack”, and the JD team saw that and went “But What If It’s About Parental Neglect” and ran with it. During the second verse, Night Swan’s face keeps taking over the background, that’s supposed to just be reflections of Jack dancing. And during that final chorus, after the first gold move where Jack is on his knees, and Night Swan Tower reveals itself, the jumbotrons that had Jack’s face on it are replaced by the tower’s visage, as the chorus sings “I’ve been locked out of heaven/for too long/for too long” and it fades back to his room, right where we started. Hell, even before that, he’s pointing to the audience during the lines “Can I just stay here?/Spend the rest of my days here?”, telling us in pretty fucking clear terms that his passion isn’t what he’s supposed to do, but what he wants to do - perform. He’s been locked out of heaven for too long, he’s been kept away from the love a mother should express for her child. And now he’s trying to find that happiness in his performance.

Speaking of, the routine! It’s fucking great! I think it’s ranked pretty fairly in terms of difficulty and effort, but if I can be honest, I found this routine shockingly easy. It’s not the easiest thing in the world, but after the technical nightmare that was Rather Be, and the (slight spoilers) upcoming technical nightmare that is Majesty, I would consider LOoH as almost a breather level. Almost, I say, if it wasn’t for the FIFTEEN SPINS you have to land. Seriously, between the one leg spin-hop, the full circle he makes during the chorus, and even the spin you have to do before the final Gold Move, there’s a reason a lot of people were joking that this song should’ve been called “Spinned Out of Heaven”. But maybe it’s the theater kid in me (it’s probably the theater kid in me), I didn’t find the spins all that difficult or demanding. And both the Gold Moves in this routine are fairly easy, with one being the jump you have to do at the start of the final chorus, and the other being the final move in the entire song, the hand raise that you started with. If I had to complain about one thing, I would say that I wish they had you “holding” the microphone in your right hand more. It’s easy for me to imagine holding the mic while doing certain moves, the bridge of the song being the most obvious, but most of the time it’s “in” your left hand when the game only tracks your right hand. It’s just a bit of a dissonance in my head, where it goes “wait, but i AM holding something in the right hand, why are you saying there’s something in my left?!”. But at that point, that’s just a nitpick.

The whole choreography tells us so much about Jack as a dancer. He’s flamboyant, he’s a showman, he lives for the dramatics. He knows how to work a crowd! His stage presence is amazing.

Speaking of! Jack Rose! The blorbo that has ruined my fucking life!!!

Quick note before I get into this... I’m not crazy when I say his name, Jack Rose, probably comes from the two main characters from Titanic, Jack and Rose, right?! No one else has pointed this out, not even the wiki, and I feel like I’m going fucking crazy. Like I know “Jack” is a very common guy’s name and “Rose” ties into the face his main color is red, but together? That’s a Titanic reference, baby! I’m not the only one who saw that, right?????

Anyways! Look at this man in his red suit, his stupid (affectionate) feather boa shoulder piece, his lipstick matching his hair, his gold glove, his stupid little microphone!!! All of this combined makes for one hell of a memorable character, at least for me. I love love love love LOVE monochrome character palettes, I love the mix of reds and blacks, I love it when random strappy things are on a character, I love a little pop of fur...

... wait a god damn second. Those are all the elements my ultimate blorbo of all time has!!!

(pictured: my ultimate blorbo of all time, aka my warrior of light in final fantasy xiv, ahrora, in her current outfit. note the reds, blacks, strappy things, and pop of fur. no matter what, she’s always gonna be my absolute favorite just because she’s my oc i poured so much into. don’t worry rora, you’re not getting replaced, you never could be <3) (it doesn’t help that her main class is quite literally dancer ALDFSKJAS;DFLKJASLD)

Okay, that’s a bit of a stretch, but I do adore red-coded characters, and honestly with the feathers it’s reminding me of one of my top 5 favorite characters of all time, Yamato Kazakiri from Animal Sentai Zyuohger, mostly because they’re both red and both give off Bird Vibes and not much else. But Yamato could sometimes serve this type of cunt. But now we’re getting twenty miles off from the topic so let’s get back the fuck on track.

Okay I’m sorry this is so much longer and more disjointed than the other reviews but this map makes me scream cry and throw up.

The map starts with Jack as a kid, dancing alone in his room. His mother, Night Swan, looks on, and motions in a way that says she’s disapproving of her son’s actions.

How it’s supposed to come off: Night Swan disapproves because Jack is supposed to be training to be the leader of her army, and shouldn’t have time for frivolous shit like “his own happiness”.

How it comes off to a lot of people: Night Swan disapproves because Jack is expressing his interest in a traditionally “feminine” hobby.

I’m not sure how many people related to that second interpretation, but I did see a LOT of people say that’s how they felt when they saw this cutscene for the first time. Personally, my interpretation was more like the first one; Jack wasn’t being absolutely perfect, and she thinks that if he’s not, he shouldn’t even bother. Of course, a bit of parental neglect never stopped anyone! It just traumatizes and yassifies you!

Honest to god, when I first saw this transition from his child self to his adult self, it made me gasp a bit, Even after his mother has expressed disapproval, he’s still going forward with being a performer. Sure, he is the main leader of her assimilated army, but he just wants to perform in front of people! And he loves it! And the audience loves him too!

But at the end of the day, the one person who he just wants to get some form of approval from won’t give it to him. He’s not good enough.

No, not good. She doesn’t care much for good.

He’s not perfect enough.

God, the love of performance and heartbreak over still not getting any love from his mother after all this time is portrayed so well by his dancer. Makes me feel extremely insane.

I think a question that’s fair to ask is “well if she wants Jack to follow all her orders, why not assimilate him, too?”. And I think the answer is twofold. One, she needs someone who’s able to make snap decisions outside of her own brain to lead her army successfully. If you’re left to your own devices, you may end up making a huge mistake you didn’t foresee. And secondly, no matter how much parental neglect she’s shown Jack, on some level she can’t bring herself to assimilate him because he is her son. She doesn’t care about his happiness, but she doesn’t want to lose someone who may potentially be the final tie to her life before Night Swan, since the dad seems to be M.I.A. And her disapproval of Jack being a performer might stem from her own insecurities of being a failed ballerina; she’s already gone through the pain and humiliation of trying to be a performer and failing, and she doesn’t want Jack to go through the same. Of course, there might be an element of jealousy there too. He IS a successful performer. He’s performing in front of an arena of people, for god’s sake! She’s seeing him live out a dream she couldn’t have, and wants to shut that down for him.

Many thoughts, head full, blorbo living in there.

Of course, by the end of the map, the Just Dancers make it through to where he’s staying...

But for now, that’s where our story must stop.

--

GENERAL RATING: THUMBS UP!!!!!!!!

SPECIFIC RATING: 10/10

Holy shit this is my favorite map in the whole game. I don’t give a shit. The choreography is fun and easy for a theater kid like me to grasp while still being genuinely challenging in a fair sense, the story of the map is told so well in less than five minutes, Jack Rose is just an iconic coach, everything about him just rattles my fucking brain like a cup of dice. Does he know how much I care about him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And to top it all off, he gets a song that already fucked hard and gets it recontextualized to be about an emotionally distant, neglectful mother, and how he just wants that closeness with somebody, anybody, and that he just wants to perform!

He just wants someone close to him to care about it, too!

... Is that really too much to ask?

--

THANK YOU for reading, especially if you actually DID read my absolute fucking brain rot on a page and didn’t just scroll down to the end. No shame if you did, I would do the same LMFAO. Next time, we’re looking at the penultimate song in the playlist, Majesty! There’s no obligation to follow me (especially not after the absolute thesis i just wrote), but if you wanna see my rankings of all the other JD2023 maps, please stick around! I promise they won’t be as long/disjointed/nonsensical as this one ended up being! Have a good day!

~ Mage <3

[paradiseprincesss]

Ooo I have been loving ALL your fics and your robert fischer one gave me an idea… the reader is a call girl who grew up poor, he hires us and after a while slowly falls in love with her and feels guilty and happy ending for both of my sad babies🥹

pov - robert fischer x reader

hi anon! I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but i love this - robert fischer will always be a soft character in my mind, i feel like he's just...like that. i just feel like he's a sad and lonely guy with the sweetest heart - i need a robert fischer in my life fr.

summary: as a call girl, your life was chaotic. ever since you were a little girl you had struggled with both self acceptance and self love, but you suddenly meet a client who changes your perspective of everything you thought you knew.

word count: 4,444 exactly lol

warnings: smut 18+ minors dni!!, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, kissing, swearing, mentions of toxic household, daddy issues, mentions of escorting/prostitution lol

…to be loved is to be changed.

you never know when you'll meet the one that changes everything - fate is funny that way. you don't know when they'll show up in your life, maybe you already know them, maybe you don't.

"god, you have no idea what it's like for me! i was struggling to pay my tuition. i'm doing what i have to do to get by, mom!" you scream, tears streaming down your face.

"then go get a job," she yelled back at you, "being some old mans escort is not a real job!"

"i'm- jesus, i'm a call girl it's- it's just different, okay? and it pays well. i can't continue to pay for college if i don't do this. you know a regular job doesn't pay shit." you say, your hands trembling as you argued with your mom.

the one figure in your life that was supposed to show you unconditional love wasn't there for you; but you didn't hold any animosity towards her. she was struggling as much as you were. did.

not anymore.

you hated this - fighting and arguing with her. it hurt you deeply. but, you did what you had to do to get by. your father wasn't in the picture, and your mother worked two jobs but that was barely enough to make ends meet.

your whole childhood was tumultuous, you grew up in a home with a single parent, the other one gone without a trace. you didn't know love growing up, and honestly, it fucked up your perception of the world - of the word love.

you put your all into school; it was the only thing that distracted you from your home life, and you were good at it. you managed to get pretty good grades in high school, no less than an A- in any subject you took, and post-graduation, you got into a pretty good college in your area.

you had moved out the day you turned eighteen, eager and excited to go out and blossom in life; but reality hit you, hard.

rent was expensive, and paying for college? god, that was a struggle in itself. you worked the odd job here and there, whether it was a cashier job or waitressing job, but neither paid enough. you did a little online research and came across escorting. the only thing that really enticed you was the paycheque - and my goodness was it a hefty one.

you kept this life of yours a secret - but you told your mom the truth earlier when she came by to visit you. she was surprised to see the apartment you were living in; decked out and lavish. she'd asked you where you had gotten the money to pay for this from, and you told her what you were doing.

turns out your mother wasn't too happy about her daughter being a glorified escort, and after arguing with you, she slammed the door in your face, which left you a sobbing mess.

but at least you had money now, right?

after scoring a position with a lucrative company which you couldn't disclose for...certain reasons, you received your first job. then you booked another, and another, and soon, you were a top money maker there.

with a face like that and the body you had - you were not short on cash, let's just say that. you were getting paid thousands just to make appearances with rich men - and getting paid tens of thousands to sleep with them.

as much as you loved the cash, you were miserable on the inside. money got boring after a while, it was just another part of your unexciting, depressing, melancholy life.

diamonds and designer bags couldn't fix the hole in your heart, they couldn't fix the emptiness that lingered within you.

if there was someone who understood this feeling better than anyone else - it was robert fischer.

sure, he never grew up poor or struggled to have money, but he knew damn well that money couldn't solve all your problems. in fact, having a lot of money came with more problems, he thought.

robert didn't know love - it was unfamiliar to him. none of his ex-girlfriends loved him, they just loved his money. they didn't care about him, they just cared about cashing in.

and every time he broke it off with them, they would tell him "don't leave, i miss you" - but he knew better than that. they didn't miss shit but the money, designer bags, and the lavish lifestyle.

after a particularly agonizing day at work, robert came home to his penthouse; head clouded with stress. honestly, it had been months since he had sex - been forever since he just felt loved or had any form of intimacy.

he craved it real bad.

so, he sighed as he dialled the number on his phone, waiting as the line rung quietly. quickly, someone answered and he put in his request - "i'll give you fifteen grand to send over your best girl," was all he said over the phone, quickly giving his address over afterwards.

and that is the story of how you ended up as robert fischers personal call girl - but that was just the beginning.

when you first met robert, you were pleasantly surprised. usually, your clientele consisted of old, rich men who were (at least in your opinion) disgusting. however, robert on the other hand was handsome, young, kind and rich on top of all that.

he was your best client thus far, and you were his favourite girl - not that he had any other girls, anyway. he paid you way more than any other man did, and he tipped generously on top of that.

soon enough, you were only seeing robert - exclusively. for work reasons of course. and he tried to tell himself that, too. that this was just sex. it didn't mean anything, right?

wrong.

he pushed you down onto the bed gently, running his hands all over your body while his lips caught yours in a deep kiss. today, you were waiting for him in his penthouse wearing a baby pink, lacy babydoll with matching pink panties and some stockings.

robert damn near lost his mind when he saw you in your lingerie, his cock was straining against his pants the second he laid eyes on you - sprawled out on his bed, biting your lip teasingly.

"fuck, i love you in pink." he groaned against your lips - but what he was really trying to tell you was "i love you."

he positioned you so that you were now sat up against the headboard of his bed, propped up against the plush pillows looking like a princess. slowly, he took his hand up to your thigh, blue eyes still locked with yours, and teasingly started to take your stockings off. he did it excruciatingly slow with the other one, too.

once your stockings were off, he looked at you with admiration. he truly thought you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen. ethereal. "can i?" he asked softly, his hands now trailing down your inner thighs, dangerously close to your clothed heat.

"m-mhm." you hum with a small nod, trying not to lose your mind. keeping your composure around him was proving to become more and more difficult every time.

he hooked his finger into the waistband of the tiny, lacy, pink thong and pulled it down your legs, groaning softly at the sight of your cunt all soaked for him.

"you're soaked. i can see it." he said lowly, and it takes every fucking ounce of self restraint you have in your body not to moan at the way he says it.

"y-yeah. s'cause of you, robbie." you say softly as he spreads your legs open, his mouth watering at the sight. he peppered kisses onto the insides of your thighs, teasingly kissing everywhere except where you so desperately needed him to kiss you.

"please." you whisper, and that was all he needed to hear before he was lapping up your pretty pussy. he licked a stripe up your cunt and you let out a desperate moan at the feeling of his mouth on you.

he continued to eat you out as if it was the last thing he'd ever do, making your head spin. you were moaning his name over and over, begging him to let you cum on his face as he sucked on your clit.

he took one of his fingers and slowly started to pump it in and out of your soaking hole. "oh fuck, i-i need you inside of me." you pleaded, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to release.

"only if you cum on my tongue, baby." he says between your legs, and you started to gasp and moan as you felt your orgasm approach you at full speed.

"i'm- gonna cum!" you desperately cry, feeling yourself cream all over his face as he took every last drop of it.

he sat up wiping his mouth and chin, glistening with your slick, and smiled at you dopily - he was in heaven.

“lay back on the bed for me, princess.” he commanded softly, and you oblige immediately. as you find comfort within the huge, king-sized bed and soft pillows, he unbuttoned his white dress shirt and undid his tie, taking it off while you watched like a predator stalking its prey.

next came his slacks, which he was rushing to get out of. as his cock sprung free from his boxers, your body felt like it was going into overdrive. robert got between your legs and took hold of your hips before lining his cock up with your drooling entrance.

slowly, he pushed in and the both of you let out sinful sounds. sex never had any meaning for you - it was just your profession, you didn’t know any different. but when he was inside you, when you let him into you - things felt...different.

robert was in way too deep to get out now (both figuratively and literally), and he slowly started to thrust himself in and out of you at a slow pace. one thing you noticed about robert, especially when you guys were fucking, was that he never broke eye contact.

nobody had ever fucked you so sensually before, let alone with such care. he fucked into you gently, the both of you moaning and breathing heavily, and he got lost in your pretty eyes.

he loved you - and he knew it was wrong.

it was the one thing you shouldn’t do when hiring a call girl - fall in love with her. he knew he shouldn’t fall in love with a woman who’s literal job was to pretend that she loved you and fuck you right, but he couldn’t help it.

robert - like you - didn’t know what love was until he felt you. until he knew you.

“f-fuck, faster robbie.” you whispered, breathless and feeling almost out of touch with reality with how good he felt inside you - it was like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so fucking tight. you- ugh, you feel so good, baby.” robert moaned, and you could almost hear the desperation in his voice. “i’m already about to cum, jesus-“ he stammered, voice strained.

“then cum, ah-.” you urged, wrapping your arms around him in a way that was a little too intimate for it to just be part of your job.

“how much extra do you want, ten grand?” he panted as he fucked your pretty pussy, feeling you tighten up around his hard cock.

“wha- robbie, what?” you try to talk properly through the pleasure he was bringing you; it was overwhelming. you weren’t sure why he was bringing up payments and money now of all times, this had been discussed already at the beginning of…whatever this agreement was.

“how much to make you mine? please - i love you.” he said, losing himself in the feeling of you.

you felt your mouth go dry as the words fell from his lips, and in a panic you struggle from underneath him, trying your hardest to push him away.

“wait- wait, stop-“ you say all flustered and panicked. this wasn’t supposed to happen - this should never happen between you and your clients.

he stops as soon as you say the word, and you backup into the the headboard of the bed anxiously, grabbing the blankets to cover yourself up as soon as he had pulled out.

you had never known love before, so when you heard those words, it sent you into an abysmal spiral.

“i-i’m sorry, i just-“ he stammered, the two of you looking each other awkwardly, and robert felt his heart break in two silently.

“don’t apologize, it’s my fault.” you sigh, looking down.

“no, cmon- i shouldn’t have said that.” he said back, and you glanced at him for a second - he looked like he was hurting. like it physically hurt him to tell hear you turn him down in a sense.

you felt a tear run down your cheek, and you wiped it away, already embarrassed enough. this had never happened in front of a client before.

was robert just a client, though?

before you had a chance to answer your own question, robert answered it for you. he took his hand out, gentle and soft, and wiped the tears away from your cheek.

“what’s going on?” he spoke softly, and you just shook your head, avoiding all eye contact.

“i- please, i’m so embarrassed. i’m sorry. you don’t need to pay me for today.” you whisper.

he shakes his head, and grabs a robe that he had draped over the ottoman in front of his bed, and quickly threw it on. you stayed with the covers pulled up over your chest and the rest of your body, watching him carefully.

he approaches you cautiously, and without another word he pulls you into his embrace - warm and inviting, just like him.

it felt like the missing piece in your chaotic, incomplete puzzle that you called your life.

words failed you in that moment, but it felt foreign. the feeling of being loved, being comforted, being vulnerable was new to you. you didn’t know such feelings could exist - at least, you grew up thinking that anyway.

"i'm really sorry, i shouldn't have said that." he said softly, petting your hair gently. "no, it's- fine. i-i don't know why i reacted like that." you reassured him, not quite knowing the reason behind your erratic behaviour.

"we don't have to continue, okay?" he reassures you in a soothing tone, and you let yourself fall into the feeling of his touch and embrace for a moment too long, before coming to your senses.

"t-thank you," you mumble, "i just don't think i'm in a good head space right now."

"and that's okay." he reassures you once again - he was really good at that. "why don't we just end todays session and i'll see you again next week, same time?"

"yeah, okay. i'm sorry, robbie." you murmur, and robert could feel his heart beating rapidly as you said his name like that - the name you called him.

after that, you had left in a rush (and felt super unprofessional about it), profusely apologizing for what had happened but he kept telling you that it was okay.

once you got back to your place, you ran a hot shower for yourself to collect your thoughts and calm yourself down. after that, you got into bed and fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the day you had.

the next morning, you woke up feeling groggy, and frankly - still super embarrassed from yesterday. cringing at your own actions, you felt like you just wanted to curl up into a ball and never show your face again.

why did you react like that? why did you have to make a scene? why did robert's confession throw you off so badly?

deep down, you knew the answers to these questions.

you reacted like that because you grew up around constant chaos and poverty, you didn't know what it was like to be cared for, to be loved. you made a scene because for someone who's never known love, facing the unknown was terrifying.

but why did robert's confession throw you off? why?

you sat there in bed, wondering. wondering to yourself why he would want you of all people - some call girl he ordered because he was bored. why wasn't he with some other girl who had come from money like him? come from class? why would he chose you?

in that moment, it went right over your head, but his confession threw you off because you didn't feel worthy. you didn't know how to trust - you couldn't see yourself the way robert saw you, after all.

suddenly, you heard your phone buzz beside you. looking a the notification, you found yourself shocked. you had received an e-transfer from robert of double the normal amount he was paying you.

your jaw dropped and you had to re-read the numbers in your account to really make sure this was real. in a state of shock, you look through your contacts and give him a call in the spur of the moment.

"hello?" his slightly raspy morning voice answered, and you felt your heart do a little flip at the sound of it - but you pushed it aside.

"hey, robert, it's me," you say, taking in a breath, "i...you didn't have to pay me, i told you."

he sighed on the other line, "no, i shouldn't have...told you what i did. i'm sorry, i...i've been thinking about it."

you stayed silent, unsure of what to say next, but he continued talking regardless. "can we talk? i'll pay you for your time."

"you don't have to do that, robert. and yes, yeah let's, um, talk." you say to him, and the two of you arrange to meet at his at three.

you get yourself ready, doing your hair in your favourite hair style and your makeup all glamorous, throwing on your favourite saint laurent heels with a matching satin mini dress.

you rush out the door, and hopped into your car, speeding off to his place. usually, he would send a driver out to yours, but you were off the clock. he insisted over the phone, but you urged him that you could drive and it was fine.

as soon as you got to the building of his penthouse, he buzzed you in and you made your way up the elevator. after knocking on the door, he opened it with a small smile on his face. he was wearing the usual - suit and tie, of course.

as he welcomed you in, he told you about the meeting he had at his office earlier that day - hence the whole suit and tie getup.

"anyways, i'm sure i'm boring you with the details about my work meeting." he says, laughing softly and you smile. "not at all, it's refreshing to hear you talk about other parts of your life besides...you know, the usual stuff we talk about."

he smiled back at you, but it seemed he was having trouble getting his words out - he didn't know how to tell you what he wanted to tell you.

"er, please know that, fuck- i just, i didn't mean to scare you away with what i said." he stammered, clearly flustered.

"...what did you mean, robert?" you ask meekly, avoiding eye contact. he slowly steps a little closer, closing the gap between the two of you.

"i have feelings for you." he says, voice strained out of sheer nervousness.

"don't say that," you sigh, "this- us, it isn't real. it's just like, playing pretend."

you so desperately wanted to say, "me too, i fell for you too," but your insecurities stopped you. even though you worked in a profession where you were paid to be pretty, paid to look good as arm candy, you felt inadequate all the time. you didn't feel pretty - you felt indifferent. sometimes, you didn't even know who you were.

there was a lot of baggage that came with you, but it was nothing that would ever scare robert off.

"i know what it's like to 'play pretend,'" he said, emphasizing his words with air quotations, "i've done that for the last ten years of my life - with every woman i've ever dated. they pretended to like me for me and not my money, and i pretended that i didn't see what they were really doing."

"you're literally paying me to sleep with you, robert. this is transactional." you say, trying to convince yourself into thinking that was the truth.

"god- it's not. it's not, you know it, i know it. we both know it." he exasperates, and you look away again as he continues. "i can feel it in the way you touch me, the way you look at me, the way you say my name, i can tell. and i know you can tell by the way i hold you, talk to you - the way i don't want anyone else but you."

as he confessed, you felt your cheeks go pink. you didn't realize that he was this much of a romantic - it was kinda cute. it was obvious that he was so serious about this, but you on the other hand...

you weren't too convinced. you had never received such attention, such care or such...love before.

"why are you lying to yourself?" his voice snapped you out of your anxious thoughts, and you finally found the courage to meet his gaze.

trying your hardest not to get lost in his ocean eyes, you manage to get a response out. "i-i don't know. i guess i just don't understand it. i don't understand how you could like, fall in love with someone who does...what i do."

he sighed softly, tilting your chin up with his finger, forcing you to meet his gaze once again. "let me help you understand, then."

one second you were trying to deny every lovey-dovey feeling you had for him - and the next his lips were on yours. it just happened so naturally.

in that moment, you could feel every insecurity, every anxious thought, every piece of pent up trauma and trust issues subside with him.

he wrapped his arms around your waist lovingly, holding you in his embrace as he kissed you softly.

you were off the clock, and so was he. neither of you were your personas anymore. you weren't just some call girl anymore (not that he ever saw you as just that), and he wasn't robert fischer of fischer morrow right now - he was just yours.

you were the first to pull away from the kiss, and you looked up at him with a small smile, which he returned.

"you have no idea how much i care about you." he whispered softly, "i wish you could see yourself in the way that i see you."

his words struck a chord for sure, and you felt yourself getting teary eyed again. "jesus, robert - stop making me cry." you laugh softly, trying to hold back the tears.

"i want to know who you are - not the usual work stuff. tell me about your life." he said softly, keeping you close.

and so you did - you did exactly that. that evening, you had spent the whole time getting to really know each other. from childhood memories to what you ate for breakfast that day - no parts left out. he told you about himself too, and finally, you felt safe.

you finally felt like the years of walls you had built up were gradually coming down, and all the baggage you accumulated over the years was slowly fading.

you looked over the terrace of your suite in your lace slip, taking in the beauty of the eiffel tower which you could see from your luxurious hotel room.

"s'pretty, just like you." robert says, wrapping his arms around you from behind, placing a soft kiss behind your ear. "good morning, mrs. fischer."

ah, that's right.

you were mrs. fischer now - newly married and happier than ever. after that fateful night in roberts penthouse, the two of you just clicked. it was fate, no - destiny. it was like something you had never known before, the pull between you two was on a metaphysical level, and for once, you didn't fight the fall.

now, nearly three years later, you were taking in the gorgeous view of paris in the early morning on your honeymoon.

your wedding was beautiful - private and intimate - but beautiful. it was just the way you imagined it would be; everything you dreamed of. robert had proposed to you a week after you graduated from your program in college, and the two of you were happily in love - still happily in love, and always would be happily in love.

you decided to quit your call girl job, as there was no longer a need to work anymore at all. robert covered all of your finances, never once did you ever pick up the bill with him. he supported you in everything that you did, always being there for you and showing up for you when you most needed him.

he never judged you, never belittled you, never made you doubt how much he loved you. it was like he had superpowers with the way he was able to permeate through all the past trauma you had. it didn't matter to him if you were working in the escort business before he came along; he simply didn't care.

your past is in the past for a reason, that wasn't you anymore. you were a different woman now. softer and no longer had her guard up constantly. sometimes, you felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

because he loved you for you. he taught you how to be grateful for yourself, to show up for yourself, to love yourself the way he loved you.

"i love you so much, honey. god, i love everything about you." he said softly, kissing down your neck, making you giggle.

"mm, i'd love to see me from your point of view." you say, taking in the breathtaking view of paris, and your new life.

[megumimania]

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES - ryomen sukuna

summary: your boyfriend hates modern technology.

warnings: sukuna x fem reader, sukuna is an old hag (affectionately), sukuna not fucking with consumerism is he in his marxist era?🤔, sukuna is a softie when he wants to be, sukuna is ooc because i hate writing mean men :), yuji being a hottie is my fav hc of all time, i can’t believe im giving amazon free promo 😞.

notes: i missed you guys!

sukuna cant wrap his head around technology.

he doesn’t understand why companies sell ‘new’ phones every single year, when they perform the same exact functions as the previous one.

he doesn’t like how your coffee machine has too many buttons when all he wants in the morning is just a cup of black coffee to get him through the day. sukuna just prefers doing things the old fashioned way which makes him subject to teasing by you and his little brother yuuji.

he doesn’t care though, constantly talking about how he’s ‘escaped the matrix’ by not owning an up to date phone and only getting his news from the daily paper and tv. however his view on technology changed once you brought alexa home.

initially he thought that it was a speaker and was confused to why you bought another one. “it’s not just a speaker ryo,” you corrected him swiftly. “she’s a digital assistant that can tell you the time, the weather, recipes and she can even tell jokes.”

sukuna looked at you with the same wariness he’d give to a snake oil salesman. “can’t your phone do the same exact thing for less?” you knew he was lowkey right but your stubbornness refused to let him get the upper hand.

“that’s not the point babe.” you playfully rolled your eyes at him, carrying the box to the kitchen counter and setting it down with a loud thump. “now if you’ll excuse me i’ll be busy setting my alexa up.” you huffed as you opened the instructions trying to make sense of them.

sukuna looked over at your focused expression. your brow furrowed with concentration as you read the instructions. it was simple really and within a couple of minutes the alexa was ready to go and by the joyous look of pride on your face sukuna knew that he was going to be in for one hell of a ride.

and unfortunately he was right.

life with an alexa was hell. sukuna barely got through the day without hearing the monotone female voice rattle off the hottest food spots or tell you a stupid joke that was suddenly the most funniest thing alive. he used to make you laugh like that!

he felt like the speaker was taunting him. hell he couldn’t even have some down time with you without that stupid speaker getting in the way. it was literally like he was third wheeling all the time and he hated it. you were his girlfriend first!

sukuna didn’t like being second best. especially to a glorified speaker.

you and sukuna were cuddling on the couch together after finishing a movie—terminator 2 to be exact. “so what do you think of the alexa?” you asked whilst the credits rolled, mindlessly stroking his cheek with your acrylic nails whilst he rubbed your legs.

sukuna tensed at the question as he tried to think of a way to answer without sounding like a complete asshole. “well…im not really a fan.” you could already tell from the dry tone and his poor attempt of acting unfazed that he was lying through his teeth.

“if that’s the case then why did i find it in the bathtub?” you pulled up the waterlogged alexa in a ziploc bag. sukuna would usually have a sarcastic reply in his arsenal but he was now looking at you as if he was a deer caught in headlights.

“fine, i used the damned thing.” he raised his hands up as he accepted defeat much to your surprise. “it fell into the bathtub when i was trying to stream that megan the stallion song yuuji told me to listen to. he said something about the song needing to go number 1 on the charts.”

you sat back in disbelief. you didn’t know whether to be annoyed, angry or smitten with him. “i’m glad yuji is helping you become more cultured but why did my alexa have to die for such a good cause!” you wailed dramatically collapsing on the floor, clutching the alexa to your chest.

sukuna lifted you off the floor with such ease it almost made you jealous. “stop whining i already ordered another one. it should be coming in a few days.” he said with his usual gruff tone that was laced with softness, peppering kisses down your neck.

you giggled as his stubble tickled your skin. “that was quick, you missed it that much already?” you teased him whilst you hooked your arms around him running your nails down the nape of his neck.

sukuna rolled his eyes at your playful expression. “i’m still anti technology, don’t be fooled.” one thing sukuna was to his core was a hater but like most haters he rarely stood on business.

“whatever you say babe.” you hummed biting back a smile. you and sukuna knew give or take two months that he’d change his opinion about it.

[hausbabylon]

broken reflection

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Word count: 5,342

A/N: This story is inspired by Elizabeth Olsen's character in Love And Death. However, I must clarify that while I appreciate her performance in the show, I don’t agree with nor glorify the actions of the real-life person she portrays, Candy Montgomery. Therefore, I made the decision to switch the character to Wanda Maximoff and create a “multiverse” storyline. I was inspired by someone else who did a similar switch, and I felt that it was the right decision for my own. With nothing else to add, I hope you enjoy!

Marriage was supposed to be your happy ending, but as your marriage deteriorated, an encounter with another woman opened your eyes to a new world of possibilities and desires you never knew existed.

Time seemed to pass at a frantic pace whenever you found yourself immersed in your most tormenting thoughts. The ceiling, which you watched as you lay in your bed, became your silent witness, as the moonlight streaming in through the window illuminated the cracks in the ceiling, which you could have sworn, you knew by heart by that point.

You caught yourself finding comfort in those seemingly insignificant details, but at that moment, they seemed to be the only tangible things in your life.

Because, no one had prepared you for this.

For as long as you could remember, the idea of marriage had been presented to you as something wonderful, as a kind of destiny that you had to reach in order to be happy and fulfilled. And very late you realized that, in your quest to find that sense of belonging and fulfillment you so longed for, you had fallen into the error of looking for in marriage what you should have found within yourself.

"I worked my ass off to give you everything you needed, I spoiled you rotten, and the one thing you were supposed to give me in return, you couldn't give it to me!" He exclaimed when he came home from work at nine o'clock at night, and you found yourself in the painful position of telling him again that no, you were not in the mood to try.

He had never told you anything like that, at least not explicitly. However, he always let you know by giving you those little looks whenever he saw those happy families with their children in the park, or disguised as a brief "we're working on it" whenever the subject came up in those absurd after-dinner conversations he made you attend. He never felt the need to say those hurtful words to you, until that time.

You could hear your mother's voice echoing in your head, "That's what you get for marrying so young, to someone so old." And yes, you were the youngest of all the wives who gathered after church on Sundays. From the way they talked to you, it was obvious that they thought you were so ignorant of everything just because you were young.

Before, every day of your marriage felt like a fairy tale, everything seemed solved, and you thought you had fulfilled your purpose. It wasn't until, for a change, some idiot friend of James' decided to pick on him by telling him that he was "falling behind."

What hurt the most was that he was looking for in children what you were looking for in marriage, both wrong because, you insisted, it was within you. That was why you refused to even try, in the first place. Being a father wasn't supposed to be just a compensation for his lack of fulfillment.

After failing miserably to go to sleep at a decent hour, you woke up at noon and realized that he was gone. It wasn't the first time he had breakfast out because you simply refused to wake up to prepare him something. The only reason it didn't bother him was because afterward, he took advantage to see other women. Oh, you knew, he didn't even deign to hide it.

Even if you weren't doing the same thing, you supposed you could care less anyway. Any semblance of love had vanished so long ago, but you couldn't afford to be as bold as he was, because you repeated, you were doing the same thing, seeing other women...

... or rather, another woman.

It all happened when one Sunday night, which you thought would end up as hell, was what started a part of your life that really meant something. Very chaotic and perhaps sick to consider it as such, but all you aspired to was those weekday evenings. Before, you had nothing to aspire to, no one you really wanted to give yourself to in that sense.

For a change, you were fighting with your husband. You were eagerly talking to the women about everything and nothing at the same time when he called you over to talk, and his expression was so serene that it was inevitable to think it was not good.

"You'll be happy now! I'm the laughing stock of all my friends because they know we are not even trying to have a child," he blurted out, his alcohol breath invading your nose, causing you a feeling of revulsion immediately.

"How fragile you are to accept a commitment as big as a child is, just because you can't stand the awful comments," you replied, almost in a mocking tone. He hated that, he hated that you seconded all the remarks in some way. His friends teased him because you refused to sleep with him, and you teased him because he cared. It was his nightmare and your delight.

"Not everything is about having kids! They know you're disgusted by me!" He clarified, and just imagining the kind of conversations they were having made you loathe him even more.

"We women are not trophies for you to show off. We are human beings," you replied, pushing him slightly, which was enough for him to fall like a sack of potatoes. "How empty-minded are you guys that the only remarkable thing you have to say is whether or not you slept with a woman, huh?"

He stood up awkwardly and laughed.

"Spare me your feminist talk, I'm outta here," he growled and proceeded to walk off to who knows where.

You let out a long sigh after watching his figure shrink in size until he became invisible to your eyes. Every time he was gone, you felt free. It was as if all your problems disappeared in the form of a loathsome person like he was.

You felt even too guilty because that day you wished he would dawn lost somewhere and never find his way back or have a horrible accident.

"What you said is too true," you heard a voice behind you, making you startle.

You looked around until you came upon Wanda in the driver's seat of her car, with the window open. You were so immersed in your discussion that you didn't even notice that she had been listening to everything.

"I'm sorry you had to witness this," you muttered, lowering your head.

"You know, I always thought of you as a naive girl who doesn't have a fucking clue, but I realize you have guts. Even more than many in there," she ignored your apology, and at her statement, you didn't know whether to be flattered or offended.

"I guess it only takes being ten years younger than you for you to condemn me like that," you shrugged, opting to feel satisfied. This was a great opportunity to prove yourself wrong.

"What are you talking about? That's a lifetime!" She exclaimed as she laughed. You really appreciated that she decided to lighten up what could have been another argument with a little joke, where she made fun of her own mistake. That definitely marked a before and after between you two.

"You're right, you were all here by the time Queen Elizabeth was born," you joked back, causing her to let out a loud laugh that even echoed throughout the neighborhood. It was her reaction that made you laugh even harder.

That day, she asked you to go with her in the car and get lost around the neighborhood. It was almost like a therapeutic session; she talked about her husband, and you talked about yours. You made them the biggest targets of ridicule and insults for maybe three hours, and only stopped when you went to a gas station store to buy snacks and subsequently find a spot in a parking lot on top of a building.

"Don't you sometimes wish you had met other people?" you concluded, as she finished telling you how her husband responded to a piece she wrote. With such indifference that it made you feel extremely indignant.

"All the time," she confirmed, nodding. "Sometimes I imagine what my life would have been like if I had married someone who cared about my mind and not my uterus, and who treats me like a diamond in the rough that values at all times, and not like a trophy that just shows off but leaves to rest in some closet as soon as everyone is gone."

"That's me!" you laughed, placing your hand above hers to squeeze it, as a sign of comfort.

"But I do have a better proposition for you, why don't you start by doing it yourself? Prove to yourself that you're more than what your stupid husband thinks you are, and maybe that will even give you the courage to walk away from him if that's what you want."

You felt a mixture of fear and excitement at the idea. Could you really do it? Would you be able to find the strength to stand on your own two feet and figure out what are your own dreams, even if it meant abandoning the security of your marriage?

You looked at her, who was smiling encouragingly at you, and you felt a surge of gratitude for the moment you shared. Maybe it was time to take a chance and see what else life had to offer.

"...Wow! Such wonderful words were not rehearsed before? You're a natural," you praised her. She blushed slightly at that. "Keep in mind that I'll think about it carefully."

"Think about it! Besides, my husband is an idiot and your husband is an idiot, what would you say if... we found that courage between us? That way maybe we won't settle for less," her voice became raspy in a matter of seconds, as she leaned towards you.

"Oh, sure! Keep in mind that I'm willing to support you...-"

"Look, regardless of that silly prejudice I had about you, when we were playing volleyball, and the sweat was running down your tight blouse... oh, you have no idea what it provoked inside me," she confessed. "Today when I saw you put that fucker in his place, I realized, I'm incredibly attracted to you."

You watched her for a moment, and noticed how her green eyes turned dark. Who were you kidding? If you didn't want James to lay a finger on you it was because it was women like Wanda that you coveted with your being to do whatever they wanted with you.

"I'm not going to lie to you, I was only going to volleyball to see you," you whispered, as if you weren't the only souls in that compound.

You weren't lying. You weren't a big fan of going to physically exhaust yourself after the mental exhaustion that being under the same roof as that disgusting man brought you. However, the mere thought of Wanda being there made you become the most passionate athlete.

"Would you be interested in having an affair?" She inquired without preamble.

Every day used to feel like a cycle of dreary routines from which you could find no escape, leaving you with a sense of longing for something different to shake up your existence. You never imagined, however, that said "something" would be an affair with Wanda Maximoff.

Instead, you adopted an exciting routine that was previously calculated, in order to be able to get away with it, and so far, not a soul suspected you.

However, you were also highly involved in the delight of each other's company, so there was no danger in going to the movies, shopping, visiting each other at home to simply read together, or sharing a lunch.

You hoped that, like you, Wanda would also feel that your presence had irrevocably improved her life, for it was evident that you found in her what you knew you would never find in anyone else.

And so the sleepless nights had become somewhat more frequent than usual. They were minutes turning into hours, until the light of a new dawn appeared through the windows of the room.

Your thoughts were mainly shaped by the failure of your marriage, which there was no longer any point in fighting to save, and how it all led to an affair whose most essential rule you had broken: don't fall in love.

Fortunately, you would fall asleep after your idiot husband left the bed and his scent gradually faded away. It was during those nights that you longed to find yourself on Wanda's chest instead, with her intoxicating scent invading your nostrils. For you, it was one of the most effective ways for you to sleep.

"Who is this?" You groaned, after the ringing of the phone had woken you from your slumber. It was when you saw the clock hanging on the wall that you realized it was four-thirty in the afternoon.

"Your mistress," Wanda laughed on the other end of the phone, replacing annoyance with a feeling of happiness that only she knew how to bring.

The more you fell in love with her, the more you knew this was doomed to fail. You could feel the impending apocalypse, the moment when she would break your heart because you were asking for too much. She was the only solace in a world that had lost all meaning, and you refused to lose her.

"Oh," You replied with a chuckle. "Are there plans for today?"

"I'm too excited to see the new Star Wars movie, and I was wondering if you'd like to go watch it with me," she proposed. "I know we went to the movies recently, but I really hope you don't mind..."

"Yes! You'd love to go with you," You exclaimed, with a huge smile plastered on your face. "If you want to go to the movies a thousand times, a thousand times I'll go with you."

"Yay, perfect! I'll pick you up in an hour and a half," she anticipated you. "See you then."

As soon as you hung up the phone, you set about taking a shower, putting on an outfit and applying makeup that would leave you sufficiently satisfied with your appearance. In a matter of effectively an hour, you were fully ready.

You were putting away the mess you had left behind when you heard your doorbell ring, and with great joy, you ran to the front door.

There she was, with a smile even bigger than yours, and she didn't hesitate for a second to throw herself at you and hug you warmly.

"You look beautiful," You complimented her, appreciating her green orbs and full lips that once kissed every inch of your being.

With a slight blush on her cheeks, she looked around, then grabbed the back of your neck and kissed your lips.

As if it was the first time ever, the softness of her lips against yours was an indescribable sensation that never failed to make you melt by her touch and surrender to her.

"And you look divine," she whispered, a few millimeters away, causing you to feel her hot breath as if it were your own.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless and flushed. You looked into her eyes and she returned your gaze with a look that was a mixture of passion and maybe, just maybe, a reciprocated feeling of love.

***

"Have you eaten yet, darling?" she asked, once you stopped in front of the cinema, whose line was somewhat extensive.

One thing you greatly appreciated was that concern which was represented through small actions, as in this case, they were questions of whether you had eaten, and at other times they regarded your sleeping habits or whether you had eaten something really healthy and not just fast food from some restaurant nearby. These were acts that may have been automatic and even inert to her, but to you they meant the world.

"I know that tone you take when you've just woken up," she began, referring to the way you answered the phone. "And since I only gave you an hour's notice, I guess you didn't get to eat."

You laughed at her conclusion, which completely evidenced how well she knew you and how interested she seemed in you, "You got me, but it's okay, popcorn will do."

"Not a chance," she countered, predictably. "Let's get you something to eat, and we'll smuggle it into the cinema to make it more fun," she proposed.

You nodded, knowing that she always found ways to make any situation more exciting.

Together you headed towards a small food stall near the cinema, and as you waited for your order, you couldn't help but feel grateful to have someone so thoughtful and considerate by your side.

Once your plates of food were delivered, you took care to hide them appropriately in your respective bags, and, after purchasing your tickets and popcorn, you proceeded to walk towards the cinema, completely satisfied with your successful smuggling.

Finally, you found your seats in the darkness of the theatre, surrounded by the fragrance of corn and butter. You looked to your side and saw Wanda already looking in your direction. It was there that you confirmed once again that the movie didn't matter as much as the fact that you were there together, sharing a fun moment where you could escape for a brief moment.

The film turned out to be shocking in every way.

From the very beginning, it kept you on the edge of your nerves with its intense and exciting plot. The pace of the film gradually picked up and the tension built up. The scenes were shocking and you were holding each other's hands tightly.

It was then that the unexpected plot twist occurred that left you gasping.

The iconic "I am your father" stunned everyone, especially the woman next to you, who was perhaps the biggest fan of the franchise in this room.

"No way," she whispered, and you noticed her eyes watering. "There is no way!"

You couldn't lie, you were just as surprised. Even though it all started as a way to keep Wanda company, you couldn't help but feel moved. You could say you were even beginning to understand what all the fuss was about.

Once the film was over, she stared into the void for a long time, still processing what had happened.

"Do you want me to drive?" You proposed, somewhat amused at her state, but also willing to help and understand her.

"No no, I'm fine, come on! I'm not a teenager!" She shook her head, heading for the passenger door and opening it for you - a gesture you adored.

"Thank you, ma'am," You thanked her, getting into the car. Once she made her way to the driver's seat, you decided to comfort her a little. "Sometimes you're a teenager... sometimes we are. I think growing up is overrated."

She took your hand in hers, and kissed it affectionately, "I wish it was like that all the time and not sometimes; I wish all the time I could have exciting experiences that constantly make me feel on top of the world. I wish I could give that to you all the time. If only we could get married... I swear I would make you the happiest, as happy as I know you would make me."

"Unfortunately you have Vision and I have James... society is slowly programming us to be another one of the bunch, another model of the housewives we're expected to be," You retorted, feeling infected by her melancholy. "That's why we have this, to escape from time to time."

"But I don't want it from time to time! You know something? I've had it with Vision," she stated, starting her car. "I'm sick of him not touching me, not listening to me, and just watching his stupid show."

Your eyes widened.

You never imagined hearing her say that. Sure, you complained about your husbands and the life they gave you, it just didn't seem feasible for neither of you to leave them.

But in the end, why couldn't you have what Steve and Peggy had, for example? And that's when you knew you could have it, you were just with the wrong people. The biggest question was, if Wanda got this person, was she going to leave you? Was it going to be really you?

And that was your biggest epiphany.

You didn't care if you could never have her the way you wanted her, just having her in your life in any way was more than enough. You wanted her happiness even if it was at the cost of your own, and that's when you realized that what you felt was love at its best.

"What are you going to do?" You questioned, once you came back to your senses. It wasn't until you got to your house that it happened.

"I'm going to take all the money he keeps hidden in that shoe box, get the hell out of this town and start over," she replied. "I've been thinking about it for about two weeks now, but I think it's time."

You felt a lump in your throat as you listened to Wanda's words. You couldn't believe that she was planning to go away and leave everything behind, and that on top of it all, she had her mind completely made up.

You had been through so much together, you had laughed, cried and shared unforgettable moments. But now, it seemed that all that would come to an end. You would return to that monotony where you desperately searched for something that could make the day different from others. You missed your home, your family, your friends... and it wasn't your husband, it was Wanda who made you feel that leaving all that behind was for the best.

And again, if she promised to do her best to find the happiness you knew she longed for as well, then this too would be worth it.

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you tried to keep your composure. You struggled for words, for inevitably, sadness gripped your heart. Goodbyes were never easy.

"What are you doing? Why are you crying?" Wanda asked, taking your face in her hands.

"It's just... I don't want to lose you, I love you and going back to the life before I met you is scary, but if that's what you want, then..."

"Don't be silly, you're coming with me," she interrupted, wiping your cheeks with her thumbs. "Wait, you said you loved me?"

You were surprised to hear Wanda's question, immediately mentally beating yourself up for not having calculated your words, but, to your surprise, you also felt a surge of joy at finally being able to express your feelings.

"Yes, I said I love you, silly!" You exclaimed, as if it hadn't been obvious enough. "Look at this godforsaken mess that you've made of me. You're like a bright light in my life, you're the only one who makes me laugh until my cheeks go numb, you make me feel alive, you taught me colors after I got used to so much black and white, you taught me a language I can't speak to someone else. You're everything I ever dreamed I could find in someone, how could I not love you?"

"We don't need to get married, we don't need a damn piece of paper to be happy. Happiness is the most important thing and we already have it," she said, moving closer to press her lips against yours for a moment. "I love you madly. Thank you for opening my eyes. You were my motivation for coming up with this plan in the first place, now that I know what it's like to really live, I refuse to go back to what came before."

"How are we going to do that?" You inquired, somehow reminding her that you too had an issue to disengage from.

"Meet me at midnight."

Once you returned home, you found the person you were unexpectedly certain you would leave behind in a matter of hours.

He had his feet up on the coffee table, his hair tousled and his tie undone, his eyes too focused on the television, which fortunately were struggling to stay open.

"You should go to sleep, or you'll have a very hard time getting up tomorrow," You suggested, knowing full well that you were only going to earn a complaint.

"It's my problem if I want to stay up all night," he grunted, straightening his posture to wake up a little. Even he couldn't deny that it was in vain.

With a scoff, you dropped your bag on the kitchen counter and headed for the bedroom.

You had to pack as soon as possible so that when James decided to go to bed, you wouldn't be caught literally displacing your entire life in a single suitcase.

You started with your clothes, which you folded into rolls so they would fit more effectively, and proceeded to take your beauty products, hygiene products, belongings that held sentimental significance, and sadly, space only allowed you to pack two pairs of your favorite shoes. It was a huge suitcase, the same one you used when you moved here, and you were even surprised at how much you could fit in it. You guess it was again going to accompany you in a new scenario, this time a successful one.

You heard James' clumsy footsteps approaching the room. By that time, you had the suitcase packed and hidden under the bed, waiting for midnight. It was only half an hour away.

He collapsed into bed, not bothering to change or pull the covers over himself. He just tossed and turned, with nothing else on his mind but sleep as soon as possible.

When the time came, you let out a deep sigh and carefully got out of bed, feeling your every movement like an explosion in the darkness of the room.

Once you felt more confident, you slowly bent down towards the suitcase you had hidden under the bed. Every inch you moved was a huge effort, but you knew you couldn't afford to be discovered.

Finally, you reached for the suitcase and carefully pulled it out. Each movement was as if you were touching a taut string, expecting that at any moment it might snap and make everything fall apart. Likewise, each step you took seemed to be heavier than the last, but without looking back for a moment, you kept moving forward, knowing that you were on the last step of your escape.

You heard footsteps approaching from behind and your heart began to pound.

No, no, no. You refused to turn around and look. You were too close!

You tried not to think about it, to convince yourself that everything was fine, but it was impossible.

Suddenly, a hand landed on your shoulder and you were startled. You turned around to face James, who was standing there, his eyes full of sadness and worry.

"Let me go, James. There's nothing you can do to stop me," you said quietly, trying to hide your fear.

"I know," he said in a calm voice. "I'm not going to stop you. There's no point in keeping this marriage if you're not happy. If I'm not happy. Go with her."

You were shocked to hear those words coming out of James' mouth. For so long, you had been holding back your true feelings for fear of hurting him, and that it would end badly. He already knew that, and he accepted it.

Your expression made him chuckle, "I saw you kissing before you came in," as if reading your thoughts, he confessed what you were wondering. "I just want you to know that I've been watching you for a while now. I noticed how happy you were coming back after spending time with her. Only someone very cruel would stand in the way of that... I'm not cruel, even though I haven't done a very good job of showing it."

You couldn't help but feel some gratitude towards James for being so understanding. It was a strange feeling, considering you were running away from him, but in that moment, you felt that you had finally found someone who understood what was going through your mind.

"You're not the only one who's been seeing other people. I've been seeing... men, too." He confessed, leaving you paralyzed, not knowing what to say. You never would have imagined James would say something like that to you. You felt confused, shocked, and at the same time, a little relieved. At least you weren't the only one who had been hiding something. "You should learn from me, I was careful about it," James joked, trying to lighten the tension in the air.

Finally, you found the right words, "Thank you, James. For understanding me, for being honest. I don't know what's going to happen to me and Wanda from now on, but I'm sure I'll find my way to happiness. And please do whatever it takes to find yours too, no matter with whom it is."

He simply nodded, an understanding expression on his face. "I promise I will, and I hope this isn't goodbye."

James and you hugged each other tightly, sharing an emotional moment that would seal the end of your marriage. It was amazing how this moment of parting was the one where you felt the most respect and compassion for him, and you could tell the feeling was mutual. It would have been easier if instead of condemning each other, you had been willing to understand each other.

Afterwards, he offered to walk you to the car towards Wanda, and you accepted. You walked together in silence, as if you both knew it was better to leave words behind.

The older woman was waiting inside the car, and both James and you laughed as her jaw practically dropped to the floor when she saw you. The confusion was palpable on every faction of her face.

James walked over to her and took her hand, looking at her lovingly, "Take care of each other as only you know how, love each other as you deserve to be loved, because you two are amazing people and deserve all the best in life." He told her sincerely, conveying his flooding desire to redeem himself.

Wanda was overwhelmed by your now ex-husband's words, and nodded tearfully. "Thank you for trusting me with something as precious as the happiness of this one right here."

James gave you one last hug before walking away, and Wanda's gaze was still fixed on him with equal parts sadness and gratitude.

You placed your suitcase in the trunk, and subsequently made your way to the passenger seat.

Wanda asked, "Do I want to know what happened?"

"Long story," you sighed, letting out the air you'd been holding in for far too long.

"Well, we have a long trip waiting for us. There's time," she started the car's engine.

With great excitement, your story with Wanda began this way, the person with whom you were destined to witness fulfillment at its greatest expression.

Together you started a business and lived on it, your daily routines never lacked for adventure and laughter. Every day your love grew more and more, and you never looked back, always moving forward together.

You fondly remember how each sunrise was like a new roller coaster of emotions, always full of new challenges. And in the most difficult moments, when darkness threatened to invade you, you clung to your union, knowing that together you could overcome any obstacle.

And so, with Wanda by your side, living each day with passion and enthusiasm, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be, living your life to the fullest alongside the person you love most in this world.

[weaselbeaselpants]

How and why Lily is a bad fan and an even worse critic

I want to get this rant thing over and done with as it's not about Lily Orchard being an actual depolorable person, just more rants about her bad takes and bad criticisms;

In case you didn't know, Poppy and Zena of TransGirlTherapy have interviewed Lily's sibling Courtney and a few other victims; I saw someone in their chat for the stream of it try and post about Lily's infamous writing tips and I just really REALLY want to put a big divider up right now between mine and other people's comparatively lowstakes beef w her and these very serious allegations. I'd be horrified by them even if they were of a creator I loved; these are not funny and ranting ontop of Lily's rants should be a few steps down from the really important stuff that needs to be addressed w her. So with all that being said:

I think her outdated "SU is Garbage and here’s Why" video is a great encapsulation of everything wrong with Lily Orchard’s critical theory, attitude, and brand. 

The whole video lacks a real thesis statement for an essaybreakdown. It feels really just like a woman having a giant fan rant at a show she used to like but now doesn’t-- because, that is what it is. BUT, that isn’t easy to listen to. Lefttuber or not, other essayist/watchalongs/media analysis-channels who talk about a thing for five hours will at least try and make their feelings actually collected. Hbomberguy’s Sherlock vid, YMS’s Kimbaspiracy debacle, Lindsay Ellis’ Hobbit three parter; all these vids are glorified fan rants extended to hours long and flowered with essay reasoning and research. They work because they're self-aware that they're taking the thing they are looking at too seriously but are committing anyway and preferably having some kind of fun or skill doing so, which is why I love to watch these kinds of videos. Lily Orchard’s thoughts all feel way too sporadic and focused on being spicy rather than coming together, and that hurts her point because it makes even her most serious call out against SU feel petty. 

She gets stuff wrong. Concrete was designed by black artist Lamar Abrams, not Rebecca Sugar who is white. Ftr I’m not pointing that out as some kind of “got you/can’t complain/Sugar never did anything wrong”-clap back; It’s just a fact. AND a missed oppertunity on Lily's part bcuz she could have pointed out how, even if Concrete wasn’t designed by Sugar, it was her in control of the artbook+ Rebecca’s drawn questionable depictions of black people before w she herself is not black and doesn’t get a ‘my friend is-’ clearance just because, and finally just the fact that +the white SU fandom dismissing this problem because they don’t want to be critical about their show.

That Lily doesn’t go into this counter-counter argument whatsoever tells me Lily’s true intentions: and that’s not to point out potential racism in the show, but to dunk on Sugar even more. Lily’s entire point about Concrete, as well as her handling of the poorly handled subjects in the show like the Human Zoo, which other critics, fans and critical fans have done a much better job at breaking down, all of it feels less like a beatdown of how problematic something is but her trying to spin Sugar into the worst fucking person because she wants to hate her. Nowhere is that more clear than in her now infamous ending shade abt Sugar being a fascist.

No, Lily did not literally call Sugar an actual Nazi. Her exact words on screen were a joking “do I think she is one, nah; would I think she is one w/o context? Yeah”.

In an alt timeline I wouldn’t think anything of this take. I get that Lily was trying to hyperbolic and relishing in her self aware pettiness -kinda like how Hbomber is with his over-the-top hatred of Steven Moffat- The issue is we don’t live in an alt timeline. Lily didn’t see how people were taking her too seriously and/or acting like Sugar was a nezi on her behalf +care that her edgy joke at the end of her rant could do some real damage, or even care that it just didn’t look good on her. She didn’t reupload the vid with a disclaimer tacked on, she didn’t tack on a pinned comment; she didn't write down a longer video disc to explain herself.

Instead she threw everyone who might have gotten perturbed by this comment under the bus, said it was all our own faults, and made it very clear she was not going to apologize for it.

Do u dislike ppl treating Sugar like she’s a Nazi and want to discourage that behavior, even in small ways? Fuck you. You’re a stan cuz Lily said so.

Are you Jewish and maybe think implying those exact words are uncalled for? Eat shit! Lily knows better than you and can talk about your life and issues better than you can because other gentiles who aren’t her have failed to do so….which means she’s actually speaking truth????

Lily Orchard could never eat a slice of humble pie and admit that she made a mistake because the only people who’ve ever criticized her and gotten real attention for it are part of the problem (i.e. 4chan, ED). Vaush type commentary bros who keep fucking misgendering her and taking more issue w her leftism that her authoritarianism.

'If obviously she has nothing to apologize for and she is totally over the accusations or her making accusations…which is why she keeps alluding to SU being fascist as a “joke”. The 'joke is on Sugar and all the people who could possibly be offended by Lily’s coining of what’s fascist so…it’s not really a self aware joke at all. She’s still going “harr harr, it’s YOUR fault that you read my comment that way and also who cares it’s not serious. RSugar is tumblr famous which means she’s a millionaire and can’t face harassment.” Tl;dr : Lily got flaq for going too far with a point and rather than just apologizing like a grown up, doubled down.

The reason Natalie (who doesn’t even cover media why is Lily so invested in Contrapoints???wv) and Lindsay will always be better yts than Lily is because they at least try to take some ownership of what they say. Does that always excuse them? No. Are they maybe still a little too apologetic of those on their side? Maybe. But all that is leagues above what Lily doesn't even attempt to do.

Fandoms, people, creators, ships and characters are punching bags to Lily Orchard. She can’t just dislike Rebecca Sugar because for the valid reasons ppl have w Sugar, which there are a LOT of- Lily has to make Sugar, and anyone who doesn’t find her joke at Sugar’s expense, into the worst possible thing. 

Lily can not make a joke or a real criticism to save her life. She is only venom and she has to double down on her points until they have no meaning. Lily Orchard’s activism and analysis aren’t about the things she says she’s fighting against; they’re about her and how everyone who dislikes her is the same kind of awful person and deserving of scorn for disagreeing with her. Lily’s the kind of person who abuses selfcare that good people get from watching Monica Lewinski’s Tedtalk, and basically came out the other end with an “I’m right and shouldn’t apologize for anything EVER”.

[branded-perceptions]

Each cultural, social and geopolitical in-group forms via its own narratives (otherwise they would be no group with a shared identity)

while objective causal reality has no such narratives (we only use narratives to try to make sense of complex systems causation and its relation to our life force via the middle-man of society)

thus, naturally, each group sees its own narratives reflected in the by identity bent translation of other (geopolitical) groups' narratives as seen in wars where the opposing sides justify themselves in ways that devalue how both their causal wellbeing like during Ukraine war via the shared effects of C-19 vaccines gets the shared common life of female population of both "opposing" sides causally

🎶TORN - NATALIE IMBRUGLIA

while their men chase and via military defend the status fantasies

(🎵I THOUGHT I SAW A MAN BROUGHT TO LIFE)

with their upon these group-identities and identity bubbles socially reinforced in-group "dignity" outsourced emotions

(🎵HE WAS WARM, HE CAME AROUND LIKE HE WAS DIGNIFIED)

distracting from the causal touch of us all

(🎵HE SHOWED ME WHAT IT WAS TO CRY)

due to via the by their reputation managed status fantasies' peer reference relations bolstered group-identities trying to impress and woo for in-group rewards

(🎵WELL YOU COULDN'T BE THAT MAN I ADORED)

that we via our motivations seem to value more than any via full spectrum of emotions sense-able possibilities of blind spots of subjective mind constructs' desire to out of own motivation care for all our live forces' causal presence

(🎵YOU DON'T SEEM TO KNOW, OR SEEM TO CARE WHAT YOUR HEART IS FOR)

which we need to calibrate our emotional boundaries upon

(🎵I DON'T KNOW HIM ANYMORE)

transcending our group identities

(🎵THERE'S NOTHIN' WHERE HE USED TO LIE🤥😷😇)

psychotic self-justifications

(🎵OUR CONVERSATION HAS RUN DRY)

that in all sorts of topics distract social motivations from causal problem solving

(🎵THAT'S WHAT'S GOIN' ON)

via their fake attachment peer-pressure facades socio-relational neurochemical hype drug-dealer "positivity"

(🎵NOTHING'S FINE, I'M TORN💉☠️💉💔 : 🎥excess heart deaths Dr John Campbell)

that we p(r)ay to via the referential group-identity symbols🎅 in our minds' "rational"🤥😷😇 connection with our emotional motivations direction

(🎵I'M ALL OUT OF FAITH, THIS IS HOW I FEEL)

creating collectively unseen, devalued and shamed attention shadows' causal effects

(🎵I'M COLD AND I AM SHAMED)

relation to our common life force of average population

(🎵LYING NAKED ON THE FLOOR)

without whom all our explanatory constructs and group-identities are worth nothing

(🎵ILLUSION NEVER CHANGED INTO SOMETHING REAL)

via our reputation managed narcotically reinforced status "heaven"🤥😷😇

(🎵I'M WIDE AWAKE AND I CAN SEE THE PERFECT SKY IS TORN)

that seems to take ages to process simple reality testing

(🎵YOU'RE A LITTLE LATE, I'M ALREADY TORN💉💔)

like the metaphor of judgement day

(🎵SO I GUESS THE FORTUNE TELLER'S RIGHT)

that we all similar like all social sense-makings tend to glorify and mystify without focusing on it's relation to objective causal reality via psychological concept of reality testing "judgment"

(🎵SHOULD HAVE SEEN JUST WHAT WAS THERE AND NOT SOME HOLY LIGHT)

whose dialectic debate is more crucial for our globally quite similar life force than social reward streams💸

(🎵BUT YOU CRAWLED💸💉💸 BENEATH MY VEINS AND NOW)

or the russian roulette of 🔍"George Orwell notes on Nationalism" and group-identities🏟👏👏👏

(🎵I DON'T CARE, I HAVE NO LUCK)

whose "diverse" traditions all around the world evolved to use the very same toxic core incredients

(🎵I DON'T MISS IT ALL THAT MUCH)

marketed via countless cultural identity and tradition "stories" that like a delusional toxic love affairs' infatuative hype (🔍brand love) are out of touch with causal reality

(🎵THERE'S JUST SO MANY THINGS THAT I CAN'T TOUCH, I'M TORN💸💉💔)

due by reputation managed🎭 status "heaven"🤥😷😇 shared socio-psychological mass psychogenic🌛🛐🐑💤🐑 pattern as hinted at via the metaphors of ironic rebounds of Abrahamic religions:

🎵I'M WIDE AWAKE AND I CAN SEE THE PERFECT🎭 SKY🤥😷😇 IS TORN💉💔

[mariaiscrafting]

hey! i rmbr reading smth you said about how the streamers tend to think of things as “ppl on twitter being mad,” specifically tubbo, and he was kind of talking about twitter and drama and discussions and stuff on his alt stream today about like 2h20m-ish in? the beginning of the mariokart bit? idk i’ve been thinking about ur post a lot and thought you might find it interesting

Hmm... I've been listening to this for the last few minutes and I have... several opinions lmao.

I overall agree with his sentiments, first of all. That people cannot express a single opinion without the potential of getting eviscerated on Twitter and thus, alienating half their fanbase, is annoying as fuck. If someone just wants to talk about something and is open to debate and argument and listening to other perspectives, there should be no problem. But the way MCYT works is that a huge part of their fanbase is on Twitter, where it is extremely easy for issues to get blown up and warped beyond recognition, essentially defaming the person involved. Two instances I can remember myself: one, there's Blaustoise who, as far as I can tell, is not a half-bad guy and hasn't expressed any controversial opinions before. But after he expressed that he believed Dream cheated that one, singular time, he got dragged through the mud on mcyttwt, got himself on Trending, and by the time the whole thing was said and done, you know what people were saying when paraphrasing him? "Blaustoise cornered Dream on a podcast and accused him of cheating," which was so far from the truth, and kinda fucked the guy over, audience wise. Second, there's Eret. The opinion that Eret expressed was that sometimes, prepubescent children might not know if they're ace or not. This one, single opinion was also warped and thrown to the wolves, and after getting him trending and everything, Eret antis to this day still say "Eret is aphobic." Twitter is a prime platform for the worst game of Telephone on the planet, and unfortunately, it houses the majority of the MCYT fandom. So yeah, it makes sense Tubbo would be frustrated with the inability for anyone in his streaming circle to so much as utter an opinion without being scared of getting fucked over.

Now, what I disagree with Tubbo on is... a variety of small things. First of all, I don't think he understands that where Twitter mobs come from is usually genuine frustration at oppression and ignorance, and it's annoying how streamers tend to forget that and only address the "I made part of my audience upset" side of discourse. Second of all, I don't think Tubbo realizes how much privilege he has, and just how little he is likely to be subject to any such Twitter mob if he actually had a full-on stream where he didn't simply voice throwaway opinions, but rather, listened to chat, spoke to different people, and/or researched whatever he was talking about. He's a white, cishet guy with a huge audience. He is not going to be held to the same standards as any other creator because people are harsher with their judgement when it comes to creators that don't fit that demographic, and his audience will always fall back on him to defend him. His concern is understandable, but mostly unnecessary lmfao. And third of all, I think he misunderstands why his Chat tells him to move on from things. He seems to take it as them getting offended by him bringing up certain topics, but really, they're just trying to shepherd him back to the game he's playing so he can avoid the Twitter mob lmao.

Several things I think could be done, on the part of creators, to make it easier and more okay for them to voice whatever opinions they like, without getting read to filth. First is to actually call out their audience for the practice of organizedly attacking other creators, taking quotes and paraphrases out of context, and warping minor opinions into huge issues where they should not exist. Yes, I'm calling out the likes of Dream here, which have given Twitter stans a massive ego and sense that they can do no wrong, when that is far from the truth. Second, they can set up and organize streams where they have all those necessary components to make sure they can be as open, inclusive, and educated as possible when talking about controversial things, instead of just offhandedly voicing their opinions on-stream. Because the reality is that if you are creating content in any other sense - on a podcast, news broadcast, YouTube video essay - that has to do with something heavy or controversial, you should be putting in that effort because your content goes out to a huge platform. Just because streaming is more casual does not mean you will not reap the repercussions for not tackling such subjects with the same amount of preparation and care. Third of all, stop fucking glorifying Twitter. By being so obsessed with Twitter, CCs are fueling their fandoms on that platform. Seriously, the fact that Twitter is essentially the expected place to make issues known, get topics trending, and directly interact with CCs, is what makes it such a cesspool.

[agathahrknss]

Well, here’s my response to things.

Under the cut are @fionaresponce​‘s DMs to me following my posted question here, and my response. It is by no means indicative of everyone’s views on the matter of, specifically, stuck-in-gleehab (which is one small part of a much larger problem) but is rather my own thoughts and stream of consciousness regarding one specific thing. I’m also posting this publicly so that this is documented and if anyone else has anything they’d like to say on the matter, feel free to send me an ask or reblog this post.

Okay, this is a lot that I wasn't expecting in my DMs this late, but I guess we're doing this.

First off, my apologies-- the context in which I used the word ‘neurodivergent’ was incorrect; while yes, it is part of the question I was asking, it’s not the whole picture and it’s a term that’s primarily used by people who are autistic or have ADHD. I have ADHD myself and it was the first word that came to mind when I made that post and was asking the question. That part was my bad and I apologise for both using the wrong word in questioning you, and for incorrectly using that term. What I actually wanted to know was whether you had any mental disorders yourself, given the subject material of Gleehab.

I’m not going to make a judgement on whether or not you do have any disorders based on what you’ve just told me-- it’s not my place and I’m not in any way qualified to so --however I will strongly stress that making an assumption of what you might have based on speculation of the people around you and on theory is extremely harmful. You haven’t been diagnosed with anything, as you have specifically said and I strongly recommend that you go and see someone, a professional, who can do so if you truly believe that you do have ASD or anxiety. Otherwise, the claims become very flimsy and mean very little and I would even go so far as to say that you shouldn’t make the claims without being diagnosed properly.

EDIT: It was brought to my attention that my wording here could potentially be harmful, here is the ask regarding that.

Regardless of that, I need you to understand that what you’ve said about Gleehab in your response is an extremely harmful mindset. Not everyone’s gone through the same experiences as you, and as someone who has several mental disorders (professionally diagnosed), used to take an assload of different medications and has also been in and out of psychiatric hospitals in the last five years, it’s so very frustrating for you to claim that you weren’t romanticising mental health issues and recovery, full stop. If you haven’t experienced it for yourself, I don’t believe you can know for sure, and because of that I really don’t feel like that’s your call to make. You can do insane amounts of research and still end up perpetuating harmful stereotypes. You are not infallible. No one is.

On top of that, there is something inherently gross for me (and this is not just you) about pointing out which specific mental disorders you’d like to see characters have-- it begins to feel like a gotta catch ‘em all scenario which then trivialises just how much these disorders affect the lives of people who do live with them every day. It’s not just some cute personality trait or quirk you can give a character, it’s something that can shape who someone is as a person.

I understand that you were not the only person out there running a Glee ‘asylum’ roleplay, however, and I can admit that part of my issue with what you’ve said stems from those groups that populated the tags back in 2010-2012, or thereabouts. I was about 16-17 at the time and I genuinely believed it was just ‘the done thing’, alongside slave roleplays, but the fact of the matter is that it should not have happened, and it was harmful. I’d like to hope that there’s some part of you that understands that. You created a space for people to specifically write about characters in a psychiatric hospital, and more often than not, those people writing about those mental disorders don’t actually have them. They have a specific idea of what BPD, or schizophrenia, or major depression is like, often influenced by popular media, and they will perpetuate what they know. Understand what you running Gleehab did, and what it actually means.

You also have to understand that by doubling down on defending your portrayal of Kurt, and of your choice to run Gleehab, you’re essentially broadcasting the message that everyone who’s saying that you were glorifying mental disorders and stays in psychiatric care and that it was harmful, is wrong. You don’t get to decide that, full stop. Considering the fact that you told me that you maybe have anxiety, and you were writing a character with depression and PSTD who self-harmed? Not your ballpark, Fiona. It’s not up to you what’s right and what’s wrong about your writing if it’s not your demographic that you’re representing.

As my friend has so succinctly put it, “You cannot claim neurodivergence. It is not a scapegoat.”

EDIT:

donnasheridanroleplays said: Autism is not a scapegoat. It’s not. Not EVER. You cannot use mental illnesses as a prop for your group.

donnasheridanroleplays said: Or neurodivergence

donnasheridanroleplays said: Explanations are explanations, not excuses. They are also not a personality trait.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Literature Past and Present

AU-gust Day Two: College AU Fandom: Once Upon A Time Pairing: Rumbelle

Rated: G

Summary: Gold’s trepidation at returning to university to get his degree over two decades after he first dropped out is put to rest on meeting one of his professors, Belle French.

Note: This is set in the UK in my alma mater.

===

Literature Past and Present

Despite this being something that he had wanted to do for a long time, Gold couldn’t help but feel a distinct sense of fear as he made his way across the university campus towards his very first class of the term. 

For a long time after he’d dropped out of university the first time, Gold had worked on the principle that he didn’t need a degree and his business ventures had worked perfectly fine without one for many years. 

Now that Neal had graduated and had a family of his own, and now that his property ventures and the antique shop did not require as much of his personal input as they always used to, Gold had found his tune changing slightly. Hearing about everything that Neal had got up to during his own studying days had reignited Gold’s interest in learning.

He had no desire to participate in the usual student lifestyle, he was far too old for that now, but his desire to go back and actually finish his degree this time was becoming stronger and stronger, until he had bitten the bullet and applied to study English as a mature student at the local university. 

He would be the oldest person in his class by quite a way; he held no compunctions about that. He was prepared for all the strange looks that he would receive, surrounded by people more than half his age, which was why he was arriving early. Hopefully, he would be able to find a seat at the back of the room, nice and unobtrusive. As long as he made it clear that he was here to learn and not get involved in anything else, then he’d be left alone. 

He made it to the room where the first seminar of the semester was taking place and peered in through the glass panel in the door. He was the first student to arrive, but the professor was already there, tapping away on her laptop whilst the screen showed the first slide of a presentation. 

Gold took a deep breath and entered the room. The door squeaked ominously as he closed it behind him and the professor looked up, giving him a smile. 

“You’re keen. We’re not due to start for another fifteen minutes, you know.”

Gold nodded. “Yes. I, erm�� Yes.” 

He sank into a seat at the back of the room and the professor continued to type for a while. The slide on the screen showed her to be Dr Belle French, and it welcomed him to English Module 1001: Literature Past and Present (Part One). 

Gold pulled his notebook and pens out of his bag. It was like being back at school again, just as nerve-wracking, although he was sure that this particular teacher wouldn’t be as strict or terrifying as the ones he had known in his childhood, and that would make for a better experience. He looked down at the reading list. He’d enjoyed going through all of the books over the summer, especially reading the ones that he had already read in a different, more critical light, thinking about the messages that the words conveyed, either intentionally or otherwise.

Presently, Dr French stopped typing and closed the laptop, coming round the desk and leaning back on it.

“So, can I know the name of my diligent student?”

It took Gold a moment to twig that she was speaking to him and not to any of the other currently non-existent people in the room.

“Raymond Gold,” he said eventually.

“Pleased to meet you, Raymond. I’m Belle. I don’t stand on ceremony in my classes; Dr French always sounds so stuffy and formal. So, are you taking English as a single honours course or a supplementary?”

“Single.”

“Great! In that case, I’ll be seeing you again – I take a lot of the analysis and writing skills lectures as well. And if you’re that way inclined, I teach all the feminist literature modules to the second and third years.” She laughed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be so forward, but I’m all for pimping my courses on the first day. You never know what might stick in people’s heads. So, what made you decide to choose English?”

“Well, as you can probably see, I’m not taking a degree to help me on my future career path.” He paused. “I apologise, that sounds like I’m disparaging your field as not being useful.”

Belle shrugged. “I don’t mind, it’s a common argument. ‘What can you do with a BA in English?’ as the Avenue Q song puts it so well. I mean, I’m happy to have the argument with you, but we’ve only got seven minutes before the class starts and I can go on all day if I’ve a mind to. Anyway, go on.”

“What I mean is, when I decided to come back and get my degree after far too long since I dropped out, I was lucky to be in the privileged position of being able to study something that I wanted to study just because I enjoyed it, rather than having to think about what could be the most advantageous to me in the future.”

“I like that sentiment.” Belle smiled. “I wonder how many more people would follow their dreams if they had that same chance. And obviously, I’m biased, but I must say that I’m very glad that English is the subject that you enjoy and chose to study. I’m lucky really, I knew that all I ever wanted to do in my life was work with literature and write, so becoming an academic presented itself to me as a career path early.” She paused. “Do you mind if I ask what your career has turned out to be?”

“I’ve done all sorts of things and had all sorts of investments, but mainly antiques trading. I learned on the job and never looked back. Well, until my son graduated, and I realised that I wanted to have that learning experience again. He never let me hear the end of it, teasing me that I was trying to steal his thunder. I know he’s pleased deep down. Dropping out was one of my biggest regrets.” Gold laughed. “I did law the first time around. I think I’ve made a much better choice this time.”

“Well, naturally I think so, but I’ve got a vested interest in keeping you on this course.” Belle winked, and Gold had to look down at his pens with intense interest. He absolutely could not be developing a crush on the professor on his first day. Student-teacher liaisons were not a good idea. Although, that said, that was usually because the students were a lot younger than the teachers in the position of power, and he could safely say that was definitely not the case with him and Belle. All the same, it would be a bit strange. No, he could not and would not fancy Dr French.

At that point, their conversation had to break off as more students started to arrive and take their seats, and Belle started to talk to them as well. Although Gold received a few odd looks from his classmates, once the seminar began and people began to talk about the subject rather than themselves, things became much more relaxed. Gold kept his head down for the most part, not getting too involved in the lively debates, but he was content to listen and learn. Every so often, his eye caught Belle’s, and she always had a smile for him.

Gold sighed. This was not a very auspicious start to his degree.

X

Belle held her office hours on Wednesday afternoons, traditionally the time of the week with the least scheduled lectures and seminars. It was always hit and miss as to how many visitors she would get on any given week; sometimes they were queuing up outside her office before she even got there, and other times she could sit with the door open for the full two hours and not hear a peep from anyone.

They were about a quarter of the way through the semester, and this week was one of the quiet ones. The students had a paper due the next Friday, so she anticipated a last-minute rush the next week. Today was the calm before the storm, and she was sitting happily in the late autumn sunshine that streamed in through her window, reading a novel. There was plenty of academic work that she could have been doing instead, but she never liked to get stuck into anything during office hours in case she was interrupted and lost her thread.

A knock on the doorframe pulled her out of her thoughts and she spun around in her chair to see Raymond Gold standing there, looking nervous. It was the first time that he had come to her office hours. That wasn’t unusual – some students never came, and others were in practically every other week. Belle didn’t begrudge either type; everyone had their own ways of learning and studying.

“Hi Raymond, come on in. What can I do for you? Is it about the essay?”

He shook his head, coming in and sitting at the other chair in the room. Being a junior lecturer as she was and not yet a tenured professor, Belle shared her office with a colleague, Merida. They got on well and were almost never in the office at the same time, which was a blessing when it came to office hours as there was really not enough room for more than two people in the glorified broom cupboard that they shared.

“No, it’s not about the essay. Well, it is a bit, I suppose. I, erm, I read your book.”

“Oh.” Belle felt herself blushing. Publishing her book had been a strange point in her career; she was so proud of her achievement but at the same time she still felt ridiculously egoistic to be recommending her own work to her students as a study aid.

“I just wanted to talk to you about it,” Raymond continued. “I really enjoyed it. It was very insightful.”

“I’m glad you liked it. Not many people can sit through two hundred pages of contextual analysis of the Brontë sisters which basically boils down to ‘who’s worse, Rochester or Heathcliff?’”

“Heathcliff, by a mile,” Raymond said. “But I think there’s a lot more to it than that.”

They continued to talk, Belle checking that there was no one else hanging around the door wanting to speak to her every so often, but they were not interrupted. It was wonderful talking about her passion, and even more so finding that one of her students shared it.

She sighed inwardly. She had vowed when she had first discovered Raymond in her seminar that she would not treat him any differently to the rest of her students because of his age, but now she was having more and more trouble with that. Not with treating him any differently in class, that was never a problem. But with this moment now, with the moments when they spoke outside of the academic context. He was closer to her own age than every other student she’d met – he was actually older than her, which was rare in academia. Outside of the classroom, it was harder and harder to see him as a student and not as… something else.

She wondered what the etiquette was in these circumstances. Rules on student and teacher fraternisation were in place for a reason, but he was a very different student.

Belle waited until he had left before knocking her head against her desk with a groan. The last few minutes of their conversation had become stilted, as if they were both waiting for the other to make the first move. She couldn’t be imagining it that he was grappling with the same kind of feelings that she was. She could see it in his dark brown eyes, watching her whilst she talked animatedly about her pet projects.

“So, I take it that the head-desk has something to do with the handsome chap who I just walked past?” Merida came back into the office and took the now vacant chair, prodding Belle until she looked up and nodded.

“What do I do now, Merida?”

“Well, I suggest you run after him and ask him if he wants to go and get a cup of tea, but then that’s just what worked for me and Mulan.”

“He’s one of my students, Merida.”

“Really? Wow.” She looked over her shoulder out of the room and ducked back in. “Well, he’s not got to the stairwell yet. How long are the corridors in this building? It’s downright ridiculous.”

“He’s a student, Merida.”

“Belle…” Merida sighed. “Go with your gut, love. All things considered, is it really going to be as much of a problem as you think it might be? You’re both definitely grown-up, I’m sure you can be civil about the whole thing.”

Belle nodded. Merida was right. It might not be orthodox, but then, Raymond was not exactly an orthodox student.

She got up and left her office, following him down the corridor at a pace that was not quite a run but definitely not just a walk. She caught up to him in the entrance.

“Wait, Raymond.”

He turned back towards her.

“Belle?”

“I was just wondering… I don’t have anywhere to be until five. Did you want to get a cup of tea maybe?”

Raymond smiled. “That would be lovely. And my friends generally call me Rum.”

“Rum. I like that.”

Belle couldn’t stop smiling as they made their way to the small café outside the humanities department building. She was very happy to be considered a friend, and maybe, in time, more than a friend.

[dirtydobrik]

too far - d.d.

requested: yes, i had two requests that were somewhat similar so i combined into one story! 1. You + all the VS are hanging and Jonah makes some rape joke (or something like that) and you yell at him and have a panic attack. The girls calm you down and then you open up to david (and maybe the girls + zane and heath) about your sexual assault. lots of angst and fluff and comfort and 2. can you do the reader snapping at david bc he laughs and eggs jonah on when he’s disrespectful to the female vlog squad members

word count: 1210

warnings: mentions and description of sexual assault, rape jokes

masterlist

"Jonah, what did you just say?" David asked, picking up his camera and pointing it on him. All your friends were over and once again, Jonah had taken a joke too far, both him and David failing to realize it.

"I knew a girl once who constantly kept rejecting me and then one night, when she was drunk, we finally hooked up."

"So you took advantage of her?" you asked, trying to keep calm.

"It's not rape if she liked it," Jonah joked and you could feel your blood boil.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you shouted, now on the verge of tears.

"Jesus, calm down. It's not like it happened to you," Jonah rolled his eyes, annoyed at what he thought was your overreaction. Your hands were trembling as you lifted one, ready to slap him across the face.

"Hey, it's not even worth it," Mariah whispered, slipping her hand around your waist and pulling you into the guest bedroom. Carly, Erin, and Corinna followed quickly behind you and locked the door behind them.

You sat down on the bed and let out a sob, Mariah sitting next to you and rubbing your back to help calm you down. Your breaths were shaky, your cheeks were tearstained, and your eyes were bloodshot.

"You're okay," Mariah whispered repeatedly, but that only made your cry harder.

None of the girls asked questions, even though you hadn’t told anyone besides Mariah about it. They knew you didn't want to talk and that you’d tell them if or when you were ready.

You heard a soft knock on the door, followed by David's voice. "Baby, can we talk?" he asked from the other side of the door. You shook your head, even though David couldn’t see you.

"Dave, go away," Corinna said. "She'll talk to you when she's ready."

"Thank you," you whispered. You really weren't in the mood to talk to your boyfriend who had just let his friend make a joke that disrespected and dehumanized women for his YouTube channel.

"Of course," Corinna replied with a sympathetic smile.

A little while later, you had finally calmed down and had even fallen asleep. All four girls had stayed by your side, none of them wanting to leave you alone in your fragile state.

"Hey, how are you?" Erin asked when you opened your eyes.

"Better," you smiled, standing up to go find David. You wanted to talk to him about what happened earlier and in the past.

You walked into the living room to find him editing, the girls following behind you. Zane and Heath asleep on the couch with him.

"Dave, can we talk?" you asked, glancing around the room. "Alone."

David stood up and followed you into his room, scared to say anything in fear that it would upset you.

"So, about earlier," you started, taking a deep breath. "I need to tell you something serious, okay?" 

David nodded.

"You might want to sit down for this," you said and David listened, sitting on the edge of his bed next to you.

You kept your eyes low, too ashamed to make eye contact with him. "My second year of college I was raped," you rushed out, your voice in a low whisper. You swallowed a lump in your throat as tears rolled down your face. David wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, hugging you and holding you tight. And you wished that was all he had said. You wish he would've just dropped the subject and just comforted you. But that didn't happen.

"Why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have let Jonah make any of those jokes and I would've been more gentle with you," David rambled.

"I'm not broken, Dave. I don't need to be treated any differently just because a guy took advantage of me when I was drunk. And you shouldn't let Jonah, or anyone for that matter, make those kinds of jokes. They're disgusting and vile and so many people in this world deal with sexual assault. It's not anything to joke about," you spat. You were angry. Angier than you thought you would be, but you needed to talk about this.

"I know that it isn't," David sighed.

"Oh, do you really?" you snapped. "Or would you have put the clip of Jonah from last night in your vlog if we weren't having this conversation right now?"

"That's not fair," David protested, answering your question without actually giving you an answer.

"Yes, it is!" you shouted. "You would've used a joke that glorified sexual assault and not have seen any issue with it and that's the fucking problem. You egg people on, especially Jonah, and let them make disrespectful comments that you see as a joke. You don’t realize that they affect people that have gone through the situations you joke about!"

You were mad and frustrated at him and you didn't know what to do.

You ran out of the bedroom and into the living room, where Zane and Heath were awake and joined by the girls. All of them were sitting in silence, clearly having heard you yelling at David.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Carly asked, and you nodded. You sat on the couch between Carly and Zane, both of them holding you tightly, while Corinna and Erin grabbed one of your hands.

"I was in my second year of college and I had just joined a sorority, so we had parties with different frats. I had too much to drink during one of these parties and I'm not sure what else happened that night, but I was woke up in a room I didn't recognize with no clothes on. I don't know what happened that night because I was so wasted and for the longest time I blamed myself." You stopped talked to swallow a sob and Erin squeezed your hand for support. "I know now that it wasn't my fault and it took me a long time to realize that."

You watched Corinna blinking back tears and pulled her in for a hug, her tears now streaming down her face.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

You held back tears as Mariah told you she was proud of you for being able to talk about it and Zane called you brave. You were thankful to have friends who cared about you so much. You felt loved and supported as you sat on the couch, engulfed in their hugs.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw David standing against the black mirror painting in the hallway. His eyes were bloodshot and when you locked eyes on you he opened his mouth to apologize, but he couldn't find the right words. Everything he wanted to say didn’t seem like enough.

He walked over to you and held you in a tight hug, his hand rubbing your back. "I love you, and I'm so sorry," he whispered, holding you tightly and kissing the top of your head.

You were still beyond pissed off and angry at him but right now you didn't care. You just wanted to hug your boyfriend and have him stand by and support you.  

[aliceslantern]

Give/Take, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 9

Ienzo has been too busy since the war to be overwhelmed by the past. But with little progress to be made in his work with Kairi, old nightmares start to invade.

Riku is a glorified housesitter. Lonely and faced with no choice but to wait for a way to find his friends, he eagerly accepts when Ienzo asks him to help do repairs around the castle. Before long, the two strike up an unlikely friendship, united by their dark pasts and their attempts to be better people.

But just as they begin to consider something more... Kairi wakes up.

Ienzoku (Ienzo/Riku), post-Melody of Memory, slow burn. Updates Thursdays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  On different worlds, Ienzo and Riku write each other letters.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Ienzo,

Sorry for the radio silence over the past few days, but things have literally been so insane I haven’t had a minute to myself to write this note. My mom is barely letting me out of her sight--not that I can blame her. She goes between being outraged to dropping everything and hugging me. She wants to know everything, and I’m trying to tell her as much as I can, but still editing the most… incriminating parts until she’s ready. You understand. Even when I was home before we never got into it.

I haven’t even really had time to enjoy being home. I’ve had to see family, friends, and they all want to know where I’ve disappeared to. People all over town, too, want to know what happened and where I went. A lot of people assumed that I’d gotten myself killed.

Including my parents. That was, and still is, the hardest thing I’ve had to accept. Starting to grieve someone and just beginning to make progress only to learn they’re alive… I feel so guilty. Now I wish I’d gone back home during Kairi’s year of sleep, even for a little while.

I’ll tell you more about what happened, but I just wanted to… start to get a status update. “Any news?” How are you? How have you been? What are you and the guys up to?

Write soon,

Riku

Dear Riku,

Thanks for your text. Of course I understand how overwhelming everything must be, and this was an unusual homecoming. I just hope it’s been more joyful than bittersweet, though I fear it’s the latter. I’m hoping this transition becomes less of a traumatic one for you. And even if it is… well. I am an impartial ear.

Correction--a somewhat impartial ear. I will yell at, and/or make fun of, anyone who gives you grief.

Do tell me about Sora and Kairi. Things must be dazzling for Sora especially--I can only imagine what sort of journey he’s gone through, and I’m probably wrong. Hopefully the three of you get to spend some time together, just relaxing and being friends. It’s the least of what you deserve.

I, on the other hand, don’t have much worth reporting. I’m continuing to work with Aeleus and Dilan on the repairs, helping Even with his various little experiments. I’m trying to figure out where I would be most helpful, but that has been somewhat difficult. I’m sure you can sympathize. It’s finally starting to get warm again here.

If I ever quit faffing about and find something worth writing about I’ll let you know…

Yours,

Ienzo

---

Ienzo,

Ha ha. For some reason I don’t believe you’ve been as lazy as you said you’ve been. Though part of me hopes you have. You deserve a little rest too.

On the topic of rest…

Right after I got your letter the puppet strings that have been keeping me awake since I got home snapped. I fell asleep on the living room couch and didn’t wake up for thirty-six hours. Mom was hysterical; she thought something was really wrong with me and took me to the doctor (which, considering how long it’s been since I’ve been home for any length of time, was my pediatrician. Awkward.). But the doctor just said what I told her, that I just needed to sleep . And sleep, and sleep… maybe it’s my turn to sleep for a year. Ha ha.

Yeah, yeah. Spare me your lectures. I’ve been so wired that even when I tried, I couldn’t sleep.

Sora and Kairi are doing as okay as they can. Of the three of us, I think Kairi’s bounced back the quickest. She’s already talking about re-enrolling in school to catch up. Considering she’s the mayor’s daughter, it made the news when she got back. She’s like a celebrity, though because she’s Kairi and she’s perfect, she’s got it under control. I mean that with no sarcasm whatsoever.

Sora…

As you can probably tell by me skirting around the subject, Sora… isn’t completely okay. Physically, he’s fine. Healthy. But it’s… between the Keyblade War, and what he experienced alone while we were all, very briefly, dead (which, remind me to tell you about that if I haven’t, because it is a trip.). He’s been ALONE for so long. I’ve never seen him so shaken, and he’s so quiet . Talk to him and he tries to be all smiles, of course, but a few of us were at the beach and instead of being all up in the middle of it like he usually is, he was sitting aside… alone. Kairi’s been trying to gently pry, but he keeps saying he’s okay. A tired act I think all of us know well by now. Honestly, I’m not sure what to do. What kind of therapist here would get what he’s gone through, anyway? The most we can do is be there, and keep on top of him, and hope he heals and processes over time. Makes me feel like a shitty best friend, but the emotional stuff was never my forte.

Sleepily yours,

Riku

---

My sleepyhead,

Hopefully by the time you get this you’re actually conscious. You had a long ordeal. Physically, emotionally, of course you’re exhausted. I hope you’re actually listening to it instead of pushing through. Been there. Done that. It is not worth it. You’re probably also still growing, believe it or not. The human male keeps growing and developing until twenty-five, and unless my knowledge of Destiny Island’s time stream is way off, you’re not exactly there yet.

I’m glad Kairi is doing well, and taking all of that in stride. If it were me I would’ve thrown in the towel long ago. I think school would be good. A taste of normalcy. You three deserve to get back to your lives… whatever that means. Or at least rest a while before finding greener pastures elsewhere.

It’s disheartening, but not surprising, that Sora feels the way he does. Like I said, I can only imagine what he might have gone through. Though I don’t like it when you say you’re a shitty friend when I watched you struggle to save your friends for a literal year. You’re too hard on  yourself, Riku. Being there, after everything else you did for him, is enough. Make sure to take time for yourself too. Though if Sora’s condition deteriorates, do let me know. I’ll see if I have any sort of psychological resource which might help him more than just a standard therapist with no notion of the greater World outside. Hopefully he’ll start to feel more himself once he settles back down.

This… very brief death occurrence you were referring to intrigues me. What was all that about? Fortunately it seems to not have stuck, but regardless, I felt my heart jump into my throat when I read it.

The others have been asking after you, Ansem especially. He says to “send his regards” and I promise it’s friendlier than it sounds.

I wonder, do you have sea salt ice cream where you are? It’s the height of summer and Scrooge McDuck is out. None of my cohorts here are willing to share. It’s been war.

Craving sea salt,

Ienzo

---

To the insatiable sweet tooth--

No, as a matter of fact, we do not have that particular sea salt ice cream here. If we want it, we have to go off-world. There are other, more native flavors which you might like, like dragon fruit or star fruit. (It’s mostly fruit. Sorry, we’re islanders.)

Sora seems to be doing a little bit better. Roxas, Xion, and them came to visit, which seemed to brighten his spirits, or at least distract him. Sometimes he still stares off into the distance and he’s not quite as chatty. This is going to take a long time.

As for the death thing… well, part of why Sora disappeared was because he went back in time to save us after the dark prophecy was fulfilled and the Demon Tide killed us… apparently. Even I can’t keep it all straight in my head, and it happened to me. He changed the flow of time to save us, and “abusing” the power of waking to save Kairi was the final straw. I… don’t like thinking about it much. It makes me feel sick.

Mundane life feels weird. I do chores around the house, and I mow lawns for some pocket change. Can you imagine it? The magic would make it easy, but it also unsettles people, so I do it with a mower. I had to go to social services to get an ID and we waited in line for two. Hours. I almost went insane. But at least it no longer has the awful picture it did when I started high school.

Speaking of, mom wants me to re-enroll right away, and dad wants me to do night school and speed through a general high school degree. I’m not sure how I feel about it, honestly. Kairi and Sora are excited, and I think it’ll be good for them. Maybe I’ll take a year, or do it online, or something. Though I’m sad to say my computer literacy isn’t nearly as good as yours.

How are you feeling in the castle? It must be summer for you guys there, too, though I imagine there aren’t beaches or anything. I didn’t see any. Do you have any summer activities? Or do you just sit in the library with a moldering old paperback all day?

Gainfully employed,

Riku

---

Dear Riku,

Thank you for satisfying my curiosity about that experience. I knew time travel was a factor in Sora’s disappearance--but I didn’t think it went like that for all of you. Terrifying. Awful.

A fantastic way to start a correspondence.

To answer the question… no, there are no “beaches” in terms of ocean beaches, but when I was a boy Radiant Garden did have springs on the far edges of town, as well as public pools. I was not allowed to go to them much--Even was rather neurotic--but yes, they do exist. Did exist. The restoration committee has it on their very, very long list. The paths down to the springs probably need some maintenance.

That is to say, when not in the lab I am sweating and thinking of cooler days. Though I know this might feel borderline chilly for you. Indifference to temperature is one of the few things on my waning list of what I miss from being a Nobody.

I’m glad you have some way to fill your days… that, and the idea of you working outside appeals to me. I imagine it must bore you.

I don’t spend ALL of my days in the library. Just most of them, lately, as am still trying to get this place even the slightest bit organized. If I had the resources I’d digitize everything. It’d make life so much easier. But I am one person with one computer and there are thousands upon thousands of books here. As a boy I used to have the fantasy of reading all of them before I turned eighteen. But, alas, that has not happened, and some of the texts are too boring, or in another language, or are too fragile to be handled. I clearly had very interesting ideas of leisure.

I still have not been able to get my hands on any decent ice cream.

Unsatisfied,

Ienzo

---

Ienzo,

I wanted to talk about this earlier but I had to get things settled in terms of my room. (Long story. Not a fun story.) Would you ever consider visiting? I could come get you. My parents are okay with it. In fact, they for some reason link you with me coming home, which I guess is true. You did help us get the clue Kairi needed. Either way, you’ve already made a good impression.

(If it’s not clear, I miss you.)

I can take you to a real beach. Show you around, not that there’s a whole lot to see. A change of scenery might be nice. Sora and Kairi want to hang out, too. Sora says hi.

If you’re busy, of course, I can come to you. But I know you’ve been there a long time, and there’s not always good memory there.

No pressure. Let me know.

Riku

---

Riku,

I think you may be on the right track with a change of scenery. I’m afraid what little wit I had left me, and when I was explaining to the others I’d like to visit, it became clear very quickly that our relationship is more than surface level. For that, I’m sorry.

However… the more I think about it, the more appealing it is. Even doing nothing--with you--is better than sitting here doing nothing by myself.

That is to say I miss you too.

I can be ready whenever is most convenient. I’m sorry for making you come all this way, though.

Ienzo

---

Ienzo,

Please, the flight will give me a few hours’ of peace and quiet. It’s been great spending all this time with friends and family, but… I feel kind of suffocated sometimes. Besides, I better keep my piloting skills in tip-top shape. Sora’s mad that I’m better at it than him. What can I say, it’s one of my many natural talents. Along with gardening, apparently.

Bring light clothes; it’s HOT here. And sunscreen. I mean it.

Looking forward to seeing you, and talking to you, in person.

Yours, Riku

[cakesunflower]

The Viridian [C.H. One Shot]

sooo this is over 20k words of something i really enjoyed writing omg. if you’ve seen Good Trouble, the spin off of The Fosters, this may remind you of it based on the communal living situation. but yeah. i hope y’all enjoy it omg. happy reading!!

“It’s a glorified dorm. That is what you’re subjecting yourself to.”

Parker Hayden rolled her eyes at the words of her best friend, Sage, who had just dropped a box of Parker’s medical books on the wooden floor with a loud thud. Focusing on her task of hanging her clothes in the closet, Parker responded, “There’s nothing wrong with communal living, Sage.”

There was a scoff from behind her as the metal of the hanger clinked on the rod she was hanging them on, the closet space slowly but surely filling up with each additional hanger. “Maybe when you’re in college,” came her best friend’s unconvinced response. “Not when you’re a prodigal, badass trauma surgeon in one of the top hospitals in the country.”

Parker’s lips quirked up at the compliment, ignoring the prodigal part of the sentence. She was quite young for someone in their third year of residency, only at twenty-five when most people graduated medical school at twenty-six. But Parker was smart and made her way fast by herself, without coming from a family lineage of doctors, and had the sociable personality to never let anyone doubt her. Turning around to raise an eyebrow at Sage, who was getting ready to put the sheets on the bed, Parker walked over to help and teased, “I thought I already was a badass trauma surgeon? Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

Sage rolled her eyes as she grabbed onto the edge before letting the rest of the sheet fly across the mattress so Parker could grab onto it. As they tucked the teal colored sheets in, Sage retorted with a small smirk, “You’re a trauma surgeon living in a commune. That’s not entirely badass. Or very prodigal of you.”

“You’re just jealous I get a pool.”

Sage’s movements stopped, straightening as she stared at Parker with dark eyes narrowed in disbelief. “This place has a pool?!” she demanded, hands finding her hips indignantly as her lips parted at the newfound fact.

This time Parker smirked, continuing to fit the sheet on the mattress before snickering, “Not so subjecting now, is it?”

With a dismissive scoff, Sage went back to making the bed as she grumbled, “Whatever. Almost everyone in L.A. has a pool.”

Parker’s blue eyes sparkled against the sunlight streaming through the large window panes behind Sage, whose dark skin was practically glowing against the late afternoon golden rays. They put the pillows on the bed, and Parker grinned. “Everyone but you.”

Sage was quick to toss a decorative pillow at Parker’s face, their laughter ringing through the surprisingly open space of her bedroom. Despite all of Sage’s teasing and comments, Parker was looking forward to living The Viridian. She never really had a problem with living with strangers; she dormed with strangers all throughout college and then in a shared apartment through med school where she met Sage. The two of them lived together during their intern year, but the more Sage and her boyfriend got serious, the quicker Parker realized she was going to have to find another place to live because the apartment they shared was under Sage’s name. The neuro surgeon would never kick Parker out, would’ve forced her boyfriend, Xavier, to be okay with the fact that he would have to live with his girlfriend and best friend. But Parker wanted them to have their own space, would’ve felt like she was intruding despite Sage’s protests, so she found The Viridian, and was excited to stay.

Part of Parker knew that Sage’s comments stemmed from her desire of hopefully getting Parker to move back in with her, but Parker wasn’t going to budge. She was happy for Sage and Xavier for taking that big step forward in their relationship, and she didn’t want to put herself in a happy time that Sage should just have with her boyfriend. Plus, Parker loved meeting new people, had to do so every day at work, and while she understood that living in a place like this meant sharing it with a bunch of complete strangers she’d have to see every day, she was still excited.

The rent was cheap, and the place was quite spacious. The gated elevator would come up to a hallway, glass doors right across that opened up into a wide foyer with grayish-blue walls with a coat closet on the right along with the doorway to the communal bathrooms. There was a row of sinks in the middle of the bricked room with mirrors, the left side where the showers were—sealed only by curtains—and the right side with toilet stalls—though those were actually sealed by proper doors. Parker was used to sharing bathrooms with men when she lived in the apartment during med school, though she knew she would have to get used to stepping out of the shower in her towel and having to see one of her male housemates standing at the sink brushing his teeth or something.

Then again, she was a surgeon. The human body didn’t really leave her flustered.

“Oh, hi! You’re here already, good!” Parker and Sage paused in their way towards the main doors leading to the elevators in the hall, watching as Roslyn, the building manager and just a few years older than Parker, entered with hands carrying bags filled with clinking bottles of alcohol. Lots of alcohol. She offered a friendly smile to Parker, green eyes bright yet apologetic. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, I had to run some errands and—”

“Oh, no, it’s fine, really,” Parker immediately placated with a light laugh, waving her off with a smile. “One of the guys let me in—uh, Luke, I think?” she tried to recall with a furrow of her eyebrows, recalling the exceptionally tall blonde that had greeted her downstairs with blonde hair tied back into a bun and blue eyes that put her own to shame. He’d been startlingly handsome, rendering Parker dumbly speechless for a moment before remembering her ability to speak.

“Good, good, Luke’s a sweetie,” Roslyn smiled in relief, blowing a lock of dark hair away from her face. She reminded Parker of a cute cartoon character, animated in the way she spoke and acted, a happy glimmer in her emerald colored eyes. “Have you had the chance to meet the others?”

Parker remembered the pretty Italian girl with the dirty blonde hair who had greeted her in a hurry as she ran past Parker’s new room, stopping to say hello before running off to a work function she’d been running late for. “Carina,” she answered, laughing lightly as she thought of their brief meeting.

Roslyn nodded along, curls bouncing as she did so. “Well, you’ll meet the others tomorrow night at the party. Calum and Ashton should be back from their trip by then.”

Sage raised an eyebrow, bumping Parker’s hip with hers as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re having a party and didn’t tell me?”

Shaking her head, Parker parted her lips to deny her knowledge of any party, which she truly had no idea about, before Roslyn cut in with a laugh. “Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention it! We throw a party at The Viridian on every first Friday of the month, it’s kind of a tradition.” With a smile at Sage, she said, “You’re more than welcome to come! It’ll also be a housewarming party for Parker! Invite as many friends as you want. There’ll be plenty of liquor,” she assured with a giggle, holding up the bags that were weighed down by the bottles inside. Her grin widened, moving around the two other girls to go into the kitchen as she chirped, “Prepare your livers!”

Sage exchanged a look with Parker, her smirk returning as an approving look flashed across her face—the first one since she’d stepped foot into The Viridian. “I like her.”

                                                       *****

When Parker shut the glass door of the foyer behind her later that same night, it was around two in the morning. A couple of hours after completely moving into her new place, she had to go into the hospital because there had been a ten car pile up, so her presence was demanded in the E.R., which was her area of specialty, with the Head of Trauma. They’d been lucky; no lives were lost in the accident, but the E.R. had been crazy and there hadn’t been a moment’s rest, and no matter how many times Parker thought she was used to being on her feet all the time, the thought was thrown out the window by the end of the day when all she wanted to do was chop off her legs.

It was quiet in the loft, almost eerily so, the only light being on was the one above the stove in the kitchen, providing a soft and dull glow while most of the living room was shadowed pieces of furniture. The large window panes on the opposite side of the foyer in the living room showed the darkened city of downtown Los Angeles, some lights scattered about to showcase a bit of life that still remained awake at this hour.

Silently, Parker wandered into her bedroom, clicking the door shut behind her as she switched on the light and toed off her shoes by the door. As she approached her bed while undoing the button and zipper of her jeans, Parker caught sight of a bottle of Sutter Home white Moscato sitting on her bedside table, her eyebrows shooting up at her favorite wine that she most definitely hadn’t bought, picking up the little card that was leaning against it.

Just a little housewarming gift for you. Welcome to The Viridian, Parker! We’re so happy to add you to the family!—Roslyn

A smile quirked at the surgeon’s lips at Roslyn’s loopy handwriting, perfectly fitting her personality. Parker felt touched at the warm gesture, vaguely recalling how Roslyn had asked her about her favorite kind of drink when Parker had met up with her for the first time about the empty space she was hoping to rent. The fact that Roslyn went out of her way to buy the wine for her as a gift was so sweet, and only strengthening Parker’s resolve of wanting to live her—as if she’d even doubted it.

After changing into a pair of night shorts and an oversized Stanford shirt, Parker found herself not really too tired to fall asleep. She sat on the edge of her bed, eyeing the bottle with a thoughtful twist of her lips. She wasn’t as tired as she thought she’d be, but she was thirsty.

So with her phone in one hand and the bottle in the other, Parker slipped into her flip flops and left her room, walking into the kitchen to pull out a wine glass, rinsing it in the sink before her eyes drifted to the stairs. There was no second floor, with all the rooms on the same level as hers, but the stairs led to the roof she’d only gotten to see when she first met with Roslyn to check out the place. It was spacious and open up there, with a pool in the middle and chairs around it, as well as a space that had turned into a makeshift bedroom with three glass walls anyone could look into.

Parker recalled Roslyn saying that was Calum’s bedroom, one of the two guys she had yet to meet, and seeing as he wasn’t here, Parker quietly made her way up the twisting stairs that led to the door.

It was beautiful out, warm with a calming breeze, as Parker stepped outside, eyes going to the buildings towering around the one she lived in. They provided optimal light for her to navigate her way around the roof, as did the lights in the pool, as she walked around it towards the bricked railing to lean against it, setting the glass on top of it as she poured some of the wine into it.

There was a sense of tranquility that washed over her as she sipped at her drink, arms folded on top of the cool brick as she gazed out at the city, the buzz of cars driving around incessant and never ending. Everything seemed so alive around her, even at this late hour, the occasional blaring of horns reminding her of the millions of hearts beating around the city. She was always around death, trying her hardest to save lives instead of lose them, that the strangest reminder of the life around her was always welcomed. It eased the somewhat erratic rate of her heart after a trying day and steadied her trembling fingers, reminding herself that not everyone’s life was in her control. That she was going to lose people despite her best efforts.

Parker took a sip of the wine before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, inhaling the dull smoke of the city and the chlorine of the pool, her lack of sight making her aware of the sounds around her. Like the gentle rattling of the fairy lights hung around the roof, unlit. Or the distant bark of a dog somewhere below.

And then there was a splash.

A startled gasp escaped Parker, grip on her glass tightening as she swiveled around jerkily, widened blue eyes on pool where the previously undisturbed water were rippling violently, watching as a warbled figure moved underwater. Her pulse was racing, she could acutely feel it, eyebrows shot up and breath still as she waited for whoever the hell it was to show their face. She hadn’t heard anyone else step out onto the roof, too lost in her thoughts, and frankly assuming that everyone was asleep to join her out here.

A few moments passed, with Parker impatiently watching with furrowed eyebrows, not wanting to look away from the pool just yet as a light breeze tickled at her skin. She chewed at the corner of her lip, breath hitching when the person finally decided to break through the surface—right in her direction.

A dark head raised from the water, soaked and sticking to glistening brown skin. It was a man, whose eyes Parker couldn’t see since they were closed, but could make out tattoos marking the skin on his collarbones and arm, water splashing and dripping as he raised his hands push back the hair that matted his forehead. Parker couldn’t tear her eyes away, admiring the way the lights in the pool reflected against him animatedly, watching as his eyes finally opened and she caught sight of dark brown irises and full lips with water dripping from them.

He was probably one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever laid eyes on, she decided then and there, unable to look away even when she was aware of the confused, almost glaring, frown furrowing at his thick eyebrows when he noticed her presence. Two strangers watching each other, lost in thought and confusion and admirance, yet neither daring to just yet break the silence existing between them. For a moment, Parker imagined how he’d glow under the fairy lights if they were on, if his brown skin would appear more golden in the warm yellows.

“Who are you?”

His voice was deep, not uncomfortably so, carrying a bit of a rasp and a hint of an accent in the cautiously curious tone he spoke with. He eyed her suspiciously, dark eyes taking her in, from her mint painted toes to up the length of her exposed legs to the top of her blonde head. Yet somehow, Parker didn’t find herself bristling under his scrutinizing gaze, despite feeling the intensity roll off of it in heated waves, nor did she find it leering. He looked at her as if she couldn’t be trusted, floating away from her slightly, as if the already existing space of water between them wasn’t providing enough distance.

Parker tried not to be offended, not entirely used to people not trusting her right away; as a surgeon, gaining her patients’ trust was always something she excelled at. She swallowed, feeling the remnants of the wine in her throat, as she answered, “Parker Hayden. I, uh, just moved in today.”

A vague recognition flashed across the guy’s face, lifting his chin as droplets of water raced down his neck and collarbones before disappearing back into the pool. Parker did her best not to follow them. “You’re the one who moved into Mike’s room,” he stated, more to himself than to her, his words not entirely having an effect on her. She didn’t know who Mike was, didn’t really care to ask when she found the availability for the room. A place to live popped up and she’d grabbed it. Though, judging by the disenchanted way the guy spoke, it seemed as though he’d rather she hadn’t.

She offered a single, slow nod, grip on her glass tight as her gaze remained fixed on the man in the pool. Parker wasn’t sure if it was the shadows of the lights of the buildings and the pool, but she could make out some definition in his arms, the left one tattooed, biceps glistening with water. “Guess that’s me,” she confirmed, raising her glass to her mouth, taking a sip after questioning, “Who’re you?”

Instead of answering right away, the dark haired man swam towards the far end of the pool before using the steps to climb out, and Parker’s traitorous eyes followed his every movement. They took in the way the muscles on his back rippled as he went, the water melodically dripping down his body as the black trunks stuck to his strong flexing thighs with each step. Parker held her breath, watching as he picked up a towel from a nearby chair and wiped at his face and rubbed it through his hair, dark eyes finding her blue from the distance as he rubbed himself down.

All the while, Parker was forcing herself not to let her gaze linger on his body. His tattooed, brown skinned body with a delicious amount of muscles in all the right places as his dark hair stuck up in places haphazardly. He took her in, as if he was memorizing every part of her, and for the first time Parker found herself flushing under his gaze, wondering what he was thinking as he took in her legs and beach wave hair and makeup free face that showed off the hundreds of freckles decorating her. She refused to shift her weight on her feet, only ever wanting to feel judged by her teachers at the hospital, not by some half naked guy who was making her feel more warm than the wine she was drinking.

And as scrutinizing as his gaze was, it was also lazy, hooded eyes and full lips parted ever so slightly in thought as he regarded her. For the few moments he was staring at her—though, they felt like hours—Parker hated that he was so easily, so effortlessly, driving her crazy in wondering what he was thinking as he looked at her.

Then, he wrapped the towel around his neck, holding onto the ends with both hands before he turned around. Parker blinked at him, affronted that he wasn’t even going to bother introducing himself after she had given him that courtesy. But then she took a soft breath as he took a step up on the platform that led to the only bedroom on the roof, realization striking her a second before he opened the door and answered with a name that sounded like a goodbye to end the night, “Calum Hood.”

                                                         *****

The Viridian was flooding with people by the time Parker arrived with Sage and Xavier. She’d known she’d get back when the party was already started, having stopped at Sage’s place after work to change into more appropriate wear consisting of heeled boots, a tight black leather skirt and a royal purple colored bodysuit with spaghetti straps and tight to accentuate her breasts in all the right ways. They had heard the music blaring halfway up the elevator ride, the sound louder and clearer as they stepped out in the hallway where a few people were lingering before entering the large loft.

The smell of booze and weed hit almost instantly, and Parker raised her eyebrows at the amount of people gathered, dancing to a remixed version of Sicko Mode playing throughout the loft. But before letting herself get lost in the party, Parker quickly went over to her room, smiling in relief that the door was locked before pulling out her key to unlock it, toss her bag inside, and pocket her key with her phone after locking the door behind her so no one would enter.

She heard an excited squeal over the music as she found Sage and Xavier in the kitchen, pouring themselves some drinks. “The guest of honor has arrived!”

Parker turned to look at a grinning Roslyn, her cheeks flushed which told the surgeon that the green eyed girl was already slightly drunk, letting out a laugh. “No, no, I’m not the guest of honor. Please don’t say that.”

Roslyn clicked her tongue, waving her off with her free hand as the other held a cup, before gesturing to a guy that she’d pulled along with her. Parker looked up at him, just now noticing the tall man who had a dimpled smile and red hair that put her lipstick color to shame. “This is Ashton!” Roslyn introduced loudly, hugging the man sideways as he chuckled and draped his arm around her shoulders. “His room’s the one next to yours. Ash, this is Parker, our new roomie.”

“It’s great to meet you,” Ashton smiled, shaking Parker’s hand as she returned the friendly grin. “I was hoping to meet you this morning but Rose said you were already out.”

Smile turning slightly apologetic, Parker let out a short chuckle. “Yeah, sorry—I’m a surgical resident over at St. Ambrose so I’m always running out at odd hours,” she informed him, leaning her hip against the stoned counter where all of the bottles and cups were laid about for people to help themselves to.

At her words, Ashton’s eyebrows shot up as he tilted his head. “Oh, really? That’s cool as shit,” he grinned in admiration. “What’s your, uh, specialty?”

“She’s a kickass trauma surgeon,” Sage’s proud voice cut in, widening Parker’s grin with a scoff as she felt Sage’s arm drape around her shoulders. Ashton and Roslyn both looked at her with smiles quirking at their lips while Sage held her cup, not so humbly adding in, “And I’m neuro. Saving people’s lives—it’s what we do.”

Parker rolled her eyes, laughing out a muttered, “Oh, God,” as Sage introduced herself and Xavier. The two of them then conversed with Ashton, while Roslyn looked around before huffing to Parker, “I want you to meet Calum too, but I don’t know where he is.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Parker shook her head, turning to the counter to grab a clear plastic cup to make herself a margarita as she spotted the ingredients around. “I, uh, met him last night, actually,” she added, feeling her throat dry just a little bit at the image of the shirtless, soaked man that flashed through her mind.

“Mm, really?” Roslyn questioned excitedly after swallowing a sip of her drink, stepping up next to Parker as she made her drink. The high volume of the music practically made the stone counter vibrate under her touch. “What’d you think of him?”

Intense. Hot. Drop dead gorgeous. “Uh, we didn’t really get to talk much but he seems. . .”

A small, knowing smirk quirked at Roslyn’s lips as she raised her eyebrows, tilting her head slightly. “Quiet? Broody? Like he would rather get hit in the head twice over than have a conversation?” Her quick words had a startled yet amused laugh escaping from Parker, eyebrows shooting up as she glanced at the building manager, catching the grin spreading on Roslyn’s lips. At least Parker wasn’t the only one who got that kind of vibe from Calum. He did seem like the type to keep to himself, but she just figured that was because they were literally meeting for the first time at two in the morning, when neither of them were too in the mood to hold a proper conversation. “Trust me, he’s a real nice guy once you get to know him. He just keeps to himself most of the time.”

Parker nodded along as she brought her cup up to her mouth, taking a sip of the margarita and enjoying the perfectly bittersweet taste of it as her gaze just happened to look over Roslyn’s head. What she caught sight of, through the dancing people, had her eyebrows raising as she chuckled to Roslyn, “He definitely looks like the type to keep to himself.”

Roslyn’s eyebrows furrowed at her statement, turning around to follow Parker’s gaze. When she caught sight of what Parker saw, Rosyln let out a snort of a chuckle. They were both currently looking at Calum, seated on the couch with a cup in one hand while his left arm was wrapped around the shoulders of a leggy dark blonde, a flirtatious smile on her lips while he talked into her ear, whatever he was saying only making her grin widen and lean into him more.

“He is,” Roslyn responded with a dismissive roll of her eyes, looking back at Parker with a shrug of her shoulders. “That’s just Violet, his flavor of the month. By the time the next party rolls around, it’ll be a different girl.”

Lips pressing together, Parker nudged them downwards at the information, acknowledging it with a thoughtful hum. But when her eyes flickered back to the sight across the room, all the way on the other side, she felt the faintest twists in her stomach as she watched Calum’s finger graze up and down Violet’s arm, still speaking into her ear as if he was sharing a deep secret. They looked comfortably lost in their own bubble, no acknowledgment to the party around them as her right hand reached up to touch the side of his face as his lips remained by her ear.

Parker blamed the fact that the guy was so ridiculously attractive, because there was no other justifiable reason as to why she recognized that twist in her stomach as jealousy.

She felt her heart stop as Calum pulled away from Violet and, through the people moving between them, his dark eyes met her blue. Their gazes locked, and Parker felt the breath catch in her throat as he leaned back where he sat, Violet occupied by talking to some girl, and Calum’s attention seemingly focused on Parker.

She tried to look away, to tune into whatever conversation Roslyn and Ashton were having with Sage and Xavier, but she felt herself freeze in place, like Calum’s dark eyed gaze was rendering her unable to move. The music was pounding in her ears, her focused attention on Calum making everything sound muffled, like cotton was stuffed in her ears, fighting to take a breath as she watched Calum raise his cup and take a sip of his drink—all the while staring at her over the rim.

Parker didn’t know him well enough, and it was driving her crazy that she couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he looked at her. Was he even thinking of her, or were his thoughts occupied by something else while his eyes decided to settle on something mundane in the meantime? It was unnerving, her body’s reaction to just his gaze, akin to what she had felt the night before when he just stared at her. Silent and observing and intense. And as he lowered the cup, lips parted ever so slightly as his jaw worked, still fucking looking, Parker forced herself to look away. To sip on her margarita and join in on the conversation going on right next to her. Anything to distract herself from the weighted stare of a man sitting across the room.

There was a party going on around her. That should be enough of a distraction.  

So Parker drank and danced with her friends and housemates, meeting their friends and new people—including Michael, the guy who used to live at The Viridian and whose old room was now Parker’s, and his girlfriend Crystal, both of whom were sweet and friendly and down to take shots whenever anyone suggested them.

“Viridian fam! Gather ’round!” Roslyn’s voice shouted over the music at some point during the night, her loud voice clear and effective as while everyone else at the party did their own thing, the current residence of The Viridian gravitated towards her in the kitchen. Parker stood between Carina and Luke, just slightly tipsy, as she saw Calum approach leisurely, standing opposite of her as they all looked at Roslyn. Parker tore her gaze away from the dark haired man, looking at the dark haired girl, who was balancing a tray of shots despite not being completely sober. Some club remix was playing through the loft, screwing with Parker’s ears, as she watched Roslyn grin. “Alright! We’re gonna toast to the newest member of our lil’ family here, to welcome Parker to The Viridian. Grab a shot!”

Both Ashton and Luke let out boyish whoops, and Parker felt her face flush slightly at the unnecessary but sweet gesture as she grabbed one of the shot glasses, filled to the brim with some kind of vodka she knew would burn her throat. Everybody was all smiles, grabbing a glass and standing in a circle, and Parker’s gaze happened to flicker towards Calum once more as his ring clad fingers grabbed a glass.

Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t wearing much of a smile, and Parker’s analyzing mind couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with her—something personal that Calum held against her. He stood tall, in an all black ensemble complete with a leather jacket on top—she didn’t understand how he could wear that, since her entire body felt flushed with heat—but he just looked so good. And unlike when she first met him getting out of the pool, his dark hair was set perfectly atop his head in curls that brushed along his forehead, and not for the first time that night did Parker feel the desire to run her fingers through them.

He stood there, effortlessly stunning, his mere presence capable of catching everyone’s attention. It had been difficult, trying to avoid him throughout the night, seeing as he demanded to be noticed and everywhere Parker looked her eyes seemed to find him. And sometimes, she’d catch him staring back, face clean of any type of expression that would give away his thoughts, that only left Parker tightly frustrated. His lack of reactions only made her feel as though he didn’t want her there. And while the thought was discomforting—she didn’t even know why she cared what he thought—she tried not to let it get to her. Too much.

Even as everyone raised their glasses in the middle to cheers, Calum didn’t even bother with a smile, looking perfectly stoic. And even when everyone exclaimed, “To Parker!” Calum’s lips barely moved, his eyes remaining on the glasses as a way of making sure his gaze didn’t wander. His mouth was pressed together, jaw tight and the muscles moving, with eyes looking void of any emotion that she couldn’t help but think was too intense of a non-reaction than the situation called for.

Parker tried not to let it get to her. Tried not to feel too affected to some guy’s indifference towards her because it didn’t matter—no matter how confusing and annoying and nagging it was. Instead, she clinked her glass with an appreciative smile on her face for everyone else around her, swallowed down the vodka that burned her throat, and tried to have a good time.

Even if one of her housemates was making it painfully obvious she wasn’t entirely welcomed.

                                                           *****

Calum rinsed out his mouth, spitting out the water after brushing his teeth as he stood straight in front of the mirror, eyes on his reflection. His cheeks were ever so slightly flushed from the hot shower he took, dark strands messily sitting on his head as he reached up to fix them as best as he could. One of the showers behind him was still running, though the sound was almost calming, being the only thing he could hear in the quiet of The Viridian. Almost everyone was already out for the day, Calum was sure, save for whoever was in the shower. No matter how long he lived here, he never made it a point to converse with anyone while in the shower or toilet—some moments were just meant to be private.

But then the shower cut off as Calum rubbed his hand down his face, scratching at his stubbly chin as he considered shaving. However, his thoughts only last a second, because the shower curtain right behind him slid open, the rings on the rod zinging in the quiet of the bathroom, and Calum felt his heart stop before feeling it drop to the pit of his stomach when he caught sight of the woman in the reflection.

Throat drying, Calum remained perfectly rigid where he stood, watching as Parker froze with one arm still holding the curtain when her eyes landed on the only other person in the room. The blue of her eyes was bright under the lights of the bathroom, blonde hair appearing darker as the wet strands fell just a little bit past her shoulders, and Calum felt an unknown lurch in his chest when he took in the freckles that decorated her prettily flushed face. So many all over, and he didn’t understand where the sudden urge to take his time and count every single one of them came from.

Parker stood there, just in a peach colored towel wrapped around her, showing off the milky, freckled skin of her collarbones and neck, just as unmoving as Calum was, yet the overhead light still glinted against the thin silver nose ring she had pierced. But she could notice the way his dark eyes trailed the length of her figure just through the reflection, noticed the clench of his jaw as he did so, and Parker felt her cheeks flush even more than they already were from her hot shower. Not because she was shy about a guy so openly checking her out—but because she was pretty sure her and Calum were at some type of odds yet the look in his eye said the opposite.

Swallowing the dryness from her throat, Parker approached the sink to Calum’s left, two already in between them as she grabbed the bottle of lotion she had kept there before hopping into the shower. She kept her gaze from drifting over to him, standing in front of the mirror with pursed lips and hyper aware of the man to her right as she rubbed the floral scented lotion on her arms. It was difficult to ignore him; not when he stood tall with straightened shoulders and tattoos inking his golden skin while the only thing both of them were wearing were towels.

But above all else, what was bothering Parker the most was his attitude towards her. She hadn’t been able to shake away the image of him looking at her during the party, like he didn’t want to welcome her the way everyone else living here did, and it kind of stung. Parker didn’t care if people didn’t like her—as a surgeon, she implemented the belief that as long as she saved a life, she didn’t care too much for the patient’s opinion of her—but most people did return a smile when she offered one. Most people didn’t just seemingly dislike her for no reason. And that’s exactly what Calum, in her opinion, was doing.

“What’s your problem with me?” Clearly, she didn’t care much for having a filter in this moment, turning to face Calum as she crossed her arms over her chest, mindful of the towel tightly wrapped around her. Calum merely glanced at her from his peripheral, not even a proper look. Parker’s jaw tightened briefly, eyebrows drawing together. “I barely know you and have rarely seen you in the two days I’ve been here, but whenever I do, you look like I’m some kind of intruder here. What’s the issue?”

She had a bit of a habit of being straightforward and blunt. Right now, though, Parker wasn’t entirely sure if that was a trait she was proud of.

The muscle in Calum’s strong jaw worked as he looked down to put on a silver bracelet on his left wrist before picking up a necklace resting on the sink and putting it around his neck without needing to unclasp it. “The issue here, sweetheart,” Calum spoke up, clear and condescending as he finally turned to face Parker, unimpressed and bored. “Is that you basically are an intruder. Everyone can welcome you with open arms and say you’re part of the family, but just because you occupy a room, doesn’t mean you are. You’ve got to earn your place.”

His words brought a frown to Parker’s face, insulted and hurt. She understood the people who already lived here being close, they obviously knew each other a lot longer, but it wasn’t like Parker arrived with the motive of trying to break into their group. All she wanted was a place to live, that’s it. They were a tight knit group, she got that, but Calum’s indifferent hostility didn’t seem warranted in Parker’s eyes.

“Earn it?” she repeated, letting her own irritation seep into the mild disbelief in her voice, scoffing as she raised an eyebrow. She almost laughed. She couldn’t help but think how ridiculous and juvenile this was. It wasn’t even that serious if everyone else who lived at The Viridian had given her a warm and friendly welcome—it was just Calum who had a problem. And she didn’t see why. The mocking tone slipped into her voice as she gave a tilt of her head. “Would you like me to complete some kind of rite of passage?”

Something changed in Calum’s dark eyes, just then. She saw it in the way he narrowed them ever so slightly at her, his tense posture relaxing ever so slightly as his chin lifted. And just like that, the air in the room shifted, a different kind of tension mixing in with the slight humidity as Parker felt a delicious kind of twist in her stomach as she kept her gaze fixed on Calum. On the way his tattoos were in bare view for her to admire, on his damp dark hair that he had tried to push back but left a few haphazard strands to do their own thing, and on the faint trail of hair going from his belly button and disappearing under the dark blue towel wrapped around him.

Parker’s skin suddenly felt hot, knowing that he was watching her exactly in the way she was watching him, eyes drinking in everything they could, and as smart as she was, she couldn’t figure out how quickly the air in the room changed.

Especially when Calum’s raspy, taunting voice hummed back, “That’s exactly what you need to do.”

Her heart jumped, his words stirring something right in the pit of her stomach as her throat worked, trying to quickly adjust herself to the heat in the room that no longer emitted from the hot showers they’d taken. “Which would be what?”

The suggestive tone Parker’s voice took wasn’t lost on either of them, only serving to add to the newfound tension in the room. Her words were accompanied by her taking a few steps towards Calum, slow yet purposeful and laced with intent. Her blue eyes never left Calum’s brown, and the intensity and fire she could see in them so clearly only fueled the desire running through her veins. It was dizzying how the aura around them changed, how the clench in Calum’s jaw went from seemingly being aggravated with her to something so much more animalistic. The same kind of pining that was incessantly drawing Parker closer and closer to him as the distance between them decreased.

He gazed down at her, dark eyes eating her up as his figure loomed over her. It was just them, right here, right now. And neither were ready to walk out of the room without getting what they both suddenly, so intensely, wanted.

Calum’s lips quirked in the subtlest of smirks, gaze flickering to her mouth suggestively. “Surprise me.”

Oh, she didn’t even hesitate.

Her lips met his heatedly, pouring every bit of intensity her body was tight with yet it still didn’t ease as Calum instantly kissed her back, their lips moving together frantically, desperately. Parker’s hands found Calum’s face, pulling him into her as the sharp lines of his jaw pressed into her palms and his hands tightly gripped her hips through the obstructive material of the towel, chests pressed together as Calum didn’t hesitate in slightly biting down on her lower lip. He drew a quiet moan out of her, just like he wanted, using it to his advantage to allow his tongue to deepen the kiss.

Hearts were beating wildly within chests to keep up with the fiery desire they kissed and grabbed at each other with, and Calum could already feel his head spinning in the best of ways at the floral scent of Parker’s lotion washing over him. They weren’t close enough, his lust driven mind decided, and knowing the layout of the bathroom like the back of his hand, Calum used his grip on Parker’s hips to walk her backwards. She easily complied, trusting him to guide her, gasping slightly when the towel around her body was roughly pulled away and her exposed back was being pressed against the cool tiles of the shower wall, bare chest against Calum’s own warm one.

She gasped against his mouth, arching her back off the wall slightly as she quietly hissed, “Too cold.”

Calum chuckled against her, the sound low and throaty, though he kissed her fervently, one hand leaving her now bare hips and Parker heard the zing of the shower curtain closing. And then, a moment later, the beginning hiss of the shower before pleasantly hot water cascaded down on them, a surprised breath hitching Parker’s throat as she was, once again, under the shower. A soft moan muffled against Calum’s lips as his fingers dug into her skin, their bodies impossibly close, feeling the lack of his own towel against her as the hot water instantly, gloriously, warmed her up more than she already was. Parker’s hands greedily ran across his body; up his arms and sides and back, feeling his smooth wet skin against hers as the soft yet greedy touch of his lips on hers left her dizzy.

The spray of the shower drowned out the sounds of their gasps and groans, Calum’s lips leaving Parker’s as he trailed hot kisses down her jaw, her eyes remaining closed at the sensation of his stubble scratching at her skin. She preferred the burn of that over the burn of the water as Calum’s lips worked on her neck, feeling his smirk on her skin when he felt her racing pulse under his mouth.

When his lips found hers once again, the water heating up their bodies, Calum brushed his lips over her kiss swollen ones, right hand teasingly sliding up the inside of her left thigh and slowly getting close to where Parker needed him desperately. “Your heart racin’ for me, doll?” Calum whispered, lips brushing against hers with each word, watching her with hooded eyes as she leaned her head back against the tiled wall.

Parker’s blue eyes, dark with desire for him, remained on Calum’s lips, chest moving steadily, quickly, at each drag of his fingers towards her anticipating entrance, other hand gripping her hip and keeping her against the wall. The rasp in his voice twisted Parker’s stomach, gaze flickering up only slightly to see the way his dark hair stuck to his forehead under the water, noticing droplets run down the curve of his sharp jaw and glitter against his supple lips.

She was reminded, in that moment, of the first night she saw Calum, getting out of the pool and soaked to the bone. In front of her right now, just as soaked, but completely naked and bare, had electricity sparking in her veins once more, had her fighting for air because of how ridiculously gorgeous she was. So Parker raised her right hand, index and middle fingers wrapping around the necklace he wore before using her grip on the chain to pull him even closer than he was.

Lips curling into a smirk, Parker murmured, “My heart’s racing because it’s not pumping enough blood.” Her words were quick to register in Calum’s head, his previous expression melting into one of understanding amusement, the mirth dancing in his eyes as he let out a scoff through his own smirk. Parker’s nose brushed against his, unable to keep her smirk from transforming into a grin, the surgeon in her jumping out just to tease. “Tachycardia is no joke.”

Calum’s chest sank with the heavy, amused breath he let out, giving a shake of his head as he breathed, “Shut up, doc,” before silencing her mouth with his.

All jokes flew out of Parker’s head as his tongue met hers, moaning into Calum and nails digging into his shoulders when his finger slid inside her without warning. Calum groaned against her, whether it was because of the way her nails were marking his skin or feeling her around his digit, Parker didn’t know, her heart stuttering when added another one while continuing his motions. The drag of his fingers was enough to curl Parker’s toes, breath shallowing as she was hyper aware of only Calum; the minty taste of him, his wet skin against hers, long fingers intimately grazing her to entice her closer to the edge.

“Not yet, doll,” Calum muttered against her lips, minutes later, when he could just feel Parker beginning to lose any sense of control. He enjoyed the complaining whine that left her as she felt him remove his fingers, breath stuttering as she watched him lick them clean and taste her mixed in with the water. The sight was sinful, with his tongue making an appearance between plump lips and eyes never leaving hers as he enjoyed the taste of her, and Parker’s desperate breathing was replaced by a choked gasp when his fingers swiftly grabbed the back of her thighs to lift her, the excited not in her stomach never ceasing. His movements were quick yet careful, not wanting to slip under the spray of water, as Calum wrapped Parker’s legs around his hips and moved her so her back was against the back corner of the shower. His eyes met hers just then, questioning as he tried to restrain himself long enough to breathlessly ask, “Can I—”

Parker’s hands gripped his biceps, finally being able to feel the muscles under her touch as she responded, breath just as stolen as Calum’s, “On the pill.” She let out a blissed out laugh, the sound easing Calum’s heart more than he cared to admit as she added, “I’m a doctor. I’m prepared. Please.”

She was driving him crazy in the best way.

They were still under the water, slightly so, as the sounds of their satisfied groans mixed in together sinfully when Calum eagerly slid in. Parker’s eyes squeezed shut, head tilted back as Calum admired the part of her pretty lips and the droplets of water running down the column of her throat and line of her jaw. He stilled, giving her a moment to adjust, to get used to the delicious stretch of his cock as he felt her left hand dig her nails into his shoulder. She felt good, so fucking good, and Calum could’ve collapsed from the aching need to move if she hadn’t finally let out a needy, breathy hiss of, “Please, fuck, do something.”

He needed to feel her lips again, mouth slanting over hers in a sloppy kiss as his hips snapped into hers, finally being able to fuck the frustration that burned him into her. The frustration of thinking about the softness of her lips and the blue of her eyes and the smoothness of her skin and how fucking good she must feel against, around, on him. And he was finally feeling it because he couldn’t fucking keep it together. Because he’d let himself give into the instant attraction he’d felt for Parker despite his decision of rejecting it, rejecting her, harshly.

Her teeth teasingly, greedily, bit into his lower lip and Calum could feel himself losing it. He was losing himself in her and for now, he let it happen.

Right hand still holding her up with the support of the wall behind her, Calum never ceased the movements of his hips, each drag of his cock between her walls throwing him further and further into the thought of Parker. And so his left hand grabbed her right, pulling it up above their heads, fingers lacing together, grips tight, as he held her arm up against the cold wall, feeling his bracelet slide a little lower on his wrist, and completely gave himself to her, just like she was doing with him. For now, he lost himself in her intoxicating kisses, in the sounds she made that were prettier than any song he’s ever heard, and in the way her skin deliciously burned against his that made him tighten his grip on her hand and made him frantically want more.

The aftermath was something he’d concern himself with later.

                                                    *****

“Hey!” Parker’s gaze wandered to the kitchen where Carina’s voice sounded, rounding the counter to get a better look at Parker, who just entered through the foyer. She noticed the green eyed girl was dressed in a cute baby blue colored bathing suit, in her hand a bag of Lays. “If you’re not too tired, everyone’s hanging out on the roof. You should join us. We’ve got drinks and snacks,” she added in a melodic tone as a way of enticing Parker, both girls letting out a few giggles at that.

A dip in the pool actually did sound like an amazing idea, the mere thought of the cool water on her overworked body seeming heavenly. Her shift had been long, though Parker had managed to sneak in a nap in one of the on call rooms between surgeries after making sure her interns were on top of things, so she wasn’t that tired to crash into bed. Besides, the sun was high up in the sky and it was warm out, perfect for a swim that she couldn’t pass up.

“I’ll be up in a few,” Parker smiled at Carina, who let out a cute “yay!” before running up the stairs to head back out. Entering her room, Parker put away her things and used the bathroom before changing into a bathing suit of her own, throwing a cover up over the black bikini before going up the stairs. The closer she got to the top, the clearer she could hear music playing, mixed in with the sounds of everyone talking.

Stepping onto the roof, Parker grinned when she heard a chorus of greetings, waving back at her housemates who were either lounging on chairs or the ledge of the roof or in the pool. Settling herself on the edge of the pool after kicking her slippers off, Parker dipped her feet into the cool water as Ashton, who stood by a makeshift bar, called out to her, “Do you want a margarita, Parker?”

She looked at him over her shoulder, grinning, “How can I ever say no to that?”

He giggled in response, a sound Parker didn’t think she’d ever get tired off, as she moved her feet around in the water. The sun felt nice on her skin, the music playing through a speaker drowning out the sounds of L.A. traffic from below as Parker watched Michael, his girlfriend Crystal, Roslyn and Luke play a round of volleyball with an inflatable ball in the pool. However, as she watched, Parker’s gaze wandered across the pool, right to the glass walled bedroom that was currently hidden from view because of the drawn curtains.

Calum’s absence was something Parker noticed almost immediately upon stepping out onto the roof, missing amongst her housemates. It was unnerving how, after that morning in the bathroom, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about him. Only three days had passed, but Parker’s body was physically yearning for his touch once more. Aching to feel his lips against hers, on her skin, to taste him and feel the muscles of his body press against hers deliciously. His touch had burned into her, leaving imprints of where he’d been, of where she wanted him again.

Parker could barely focus, as if all she could think of was feeling him again. So instead she distracted herself with surgeries because in the O.R., the only thing she focused on was the patient. Nothing else. Especially not Calum Hood.

She’d only told Sage about what happened, about how she and Calum somehow lost every sense of control and could only think of losing themselves in each other. Her best friend had been proud of her antics even though Parker said it was only a one time thing. Sage very much doubted that, which only served to fluster Parker. She had no idea what Calum’s mindset was; spending most of her time at the hospital provided Parker some distance from Calum, though she wasn’t too sure if she was grateful for that or not. She yearned for his touch and it was unsettling how much of an effect he had on her after just one time.

He was mesmerizing, addictive. Parker had gotten a taste and she craved for more; she missed the softness of his lips and scratch of his scruff and the delicious way he fit into her so perfectly. How was she expected to just not want more?

Tearing her gaze from Calum’s room with a deep breath, Parker smiled at Ashton as he walked over to where she was sitting and handed her the glass of margarita. The cold drink felt good as she listened to everyone around her chattering and watched the volleyball game in front of her. The bittersweet taste wonderfully tickled her throat, lightly kicking her feet in the water as the game ended and cheers erupted from Luke and Roslyn over their victory.

“You feel good, champ?” Parker grinned at Luke, who pushed himself out of the pool to sit on the edge next to her.

He laughed, dimples appearing as his body glistened and dripped with water. Pushing the blonde hair away from his face, Luke answered with a puffed chest, “Hell yeah. I’m the king of volleyball, you know.”

Michael, who’d heard Luke’s statement, scoffed loudly from where he still was in the pool. “Winning one game doesn’t make you the king!” he exclaimed through a bemused laugh, not even hesitating to call Luke out on his bullshit.

Luke kicked a leg out in hopes of splashing Michael, though the green eyed man was too far away by the other end of the pool as Parker snickered at the childish antics. She engaged in a conversation with the blonde then as he asked about her job and she told him about the last tie she was in charge of running the E.R., which he thought was pretty awesome. Which it was—but also intense and exhausting, especially if it was overrun with patients who needed immediate assistance.

It was easy talking to Luke; he was all smiles and bright eyes, and Parker mentally made it a point to talk to him and her other housemates more. Being a senior surgical resident kept her busy, spending most of her time at the hospital, and while she’d moved into the Viridian a week ago, there was still room for her to get to know the people she was living with more.

Just as her thoughts began trickling into the dangerous territory of reminding her of just how well she’d gotten to know a certain roommate a few days ago—as if she could ever forget—Parker noticed the door on the other side of the pool open and out stepped a familiar leggy dark blonde. An uncomfortable twist in the pit of Parker’s stomach hitched her throat at Violet’s lazy smile and marked up neck and bikini clad body, looking far too satisfied, looking just like Parker probably had the other day for the same delirious reason.

But the discomfort in her stomach didn’t compare to the breathtaking dread that clogged Parker’s throat when Calum walked out behind her, fingers running through unruly curly hair as the sun rays reflected against his skin in a heavenly glow, only dressed in swimming trunks as his necklaces rested against his chest. He nodded in greeting once, directed at everyone, bare feet padding on the ground as his dark eyes took in who all was there. Parker’s grasp on her glass tightened when his brown eyes met her blue, his already leisure pace slowing down just a fraction, so subtle, when their gazes locked.

Parker’s throat worked, deaf to the world like there was cotton in her ears, noticing how, even from this distance, Calum’s jaw worked. His expression was unreadable, blank, as he continued walking and broke their gaze, not even a polite smile as he followed Violet to the makeshift bar where Ashton was.

But then Calum walked past where she and Luke sat, his gaze sliding over her head as some of the blankness from his face erased, softening into one of casualness as he lifted his chin in a quick nod to Luke. The action was accompanied by a greeting, “Hey, man.”

Luke returned the greeting, and Parker watched as Calum’s gaze went from his friend before shifting ahead once more as he continued his pace. And she was left, staring after him in indignant surprise, because he wasn’t even going to acknowledge her? Just stare from a distance and then if he was near her, she ceased to exist? Parker had never been treated so rudely before, no ounce of respect thrown her way, and she hated that it hurt. Hated that it stung that she wasn’t given something she was desperately seeking against her better judgement.

She hated that she felt a suffocating weight settle on her twisting stomach at his reaction—or, as usual, lack thereof. Calum kept going, as if nothing had changed between them since she moved to the Viridian, as if he hadn’t had her pressed against the wall with lips muffling her moans as he drove himself deeper and deeper into her just a few days ago. With a tight throat, Parker forced herself to drink her beverage, fighting the urge to turn and follow Calum’s movements to the bar behind her, not wanting to appear as some kind of longing, kicked puppy.

The fact that his ignorance of her even stung bothered Parker. Perhaps she was justified—she would at least acknowledge the existence of someone she’d slept with, especially if they were living together. But then again, maybe she should’ve known better. There had already been some kind of tension existing between her and Calum—sleeping with him probably wasn’t the best and most effective of solutions. But it just happened. That’s all Parker could say to somehow justify it, if possible. What happened between her and Calum had just happened and it left her dizzy and wanting more—despite the fact that he continued to look at her the same way he had since she moved to the building.

“Kinda cold.”

Blinking back into reality, Parker turned her head to look at Luke, who’d been following Calum with his eyes before he looked down at Parker with an almost apologetic raise of his eyebrows. Parker blinked, her own eyebrows drawing together at that, realization coming slow yet not entirely sure if he meant what she was thinking. Hoping it wasn’t. “What?”

Luke ticked his head to where Calum was, eyes flickering to the brunette before looking back at Parker. “Him ignoring you like that after what happened. Not cool.”

Raising her eyebrow, for a second Parker considered Luke was maybe talking about something completely different, but she knew there wasn’t anything else. Honestly—she didn’t care who knew, although she didn’t want it to be made into a big deal. She had just moved into the Viridian and the last thing she wanted everyone to talk about was how she already hooked up with one of the guys. Knowing about it was one thing, but gossiping about it was completely different.

Luke didn’t look like he was judging her or anything, didn’t really look like he was viewing her in a different light. But that’s not what stuck to Parker—it was how he knew. She surely hadn’t said anything, and she knew no one else was in the loft when she and Calum hooked up, so there really was only one explanation.

Parker’s eyebrows shot up as she quickly put two and two together, glancing around briefly before leaning into Luke, her voice a quiet murmur as she asked in surprise, “He told you?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders while taking a sip of his beer, throat working as he swallowed and licked his lips before looking back at Parker, who was gazing up at him in taken aback confusion. For some reason, she didn’t think Calum would bring it up to anyone, unsure why she would think he’d keep quiet about it. Although, maybe it was because of just how much of a silent person he was. How he seemed to keep to himself—at least when Parker was around.

But they weren’t friends. And Parker didn’t really know him.   

“He may have mentioned it,” Luke admitted with a nod, leaning back on his hands as his blue eyes remained on hers. When Parker’s eyes remained raised, nodding her head as if to get more out of him, Luke smiled apologetically. “That’s all he said, honestly. I would think he’d be more of a gentleman and not do it in the bathroom but I guess raging hormones were too powerful.”

Parker’s face flushed at this, pursing her lips together and hoping to suppress the flustered smile that threatened to tug at the corners. Part of her hoped that that’s all Calum said; that they hooked up, and that’s it. Maybe then it would justify why he’s just ignoring her at this moment. Even though Parker hated that she was even bothered in the first place that he was pretending as if it never happened. It was, annoyingly enough, kind of embarrassing.

Not to mention confusing. Utterly bewildering. She wasn’t even sure what to feel, what she was justified to feel. It had been a one time thing. And no matter how badly she wished for it to happen again, Parker would have to come to terms with the possible fact that Calum didn’t want the same thing. Not when he had Violet.

“It’s whatever,” Parker shrugged with a shake of her head, in that moment wanting to forget about everything. Her feelings were hurt, she understood, but it was her own fault for even having that seed of wonder of something more happening. They’d fucked, once, in the bathroom in a mess of breathless gasps and clinging fingers. Why would there be more after that? She offered a close mouthed smile to Luke, one she wouldn’t even believe if she saw, but Parker didn’t care enough to make it seem real. Or maybe she cared too much. She wasn’t sure. “Just a one time thing, honestly.”

Luke looked at her, blue eyes bright under the sun, a softness taking over his features that made him appear almost angelic. In a quiet voice, he asked, “Then why do you sound so disappointed?”

Parker pursed her lips, the smile diminishing as her gaze flickered past Luke and right to where Calum was. She didn’t understand why she felt so attached after a single fling, why it had to be Calum of all people she somehow couldn’t find herself moving past. She was a surgeon, for fuck’s sake; moving forward was what she was trained to do. But Parker’s eyes were on Calum, sitting at the end of a beach chair, legs spread so Violet could sit in between. The familiar twist tightened Parker’s stomach, watching as Violet’s hair was over her right shoulder and Calum, with one hand nursing a beer, mouthed at her neck as she leaned back into him with a lazy smile returning to her face.

It wasn’t normal, was it, to feel the burn of jealousy in her veins at the sight of a guy who she didn’t even think liked her, a guy who she hooked up with once, put his lips on the skin of someone that wasn’t her? It wasn’t normal to feel the yearning tightness in her chest at the desire of wanting him maybe once more, twice more? Why the hell was she so stuck on him?

Maybe because he was so outrageously handsome. Or that his lips were made for kissing. Or that the sex had been so mind blowingly fantastic that Parker had dreams about it, about the words he’d said and the sounds he made. Or that he was just so frustratingly intriguing that Parker couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Or maybe she was just an idiot of a masochist for feeling herself start to fall for someone she slept with once, who’d been an ass to her even after the fact, and she was doing nothing to stop it.

Suddenly dark brown eyes locked with Parker’s blue, and she felt the breath in her throat hitch sharply and a shiver from the cool water race up her spine at his blank, handsome face. She watched as Calum took a sip of his beer, eyes never leaving hers in the distance, watched as the ever so light breeze made the few curls across his forehead partake in a gentle dance. And then she watched, with blood frozen in her veins and a lump forming in her throat, the sight bothering Parker so much more than it should, as Calum slid one tattooed arm around Violet’s bare waist and pulled her even closer to him purposefully. His purposeful, daring eyes never left Parker’s.

Oh, wow. He was an asshole.

How he could go from being so attentive and giving like he had been in the bathroom and switching to an intentionally indifferent jerk was beyond Parker.

She looked at Luke, a soft scoff escaping her nose as a self deprecating smile tugged at her lips, lifting her near empty glass while answering his question with a defeated, “I have no fucking idea.”

              ��                                   *****

He kept looking towards the door. Or, at least, tried to since the view of it was a bit obscured from where he sat in the V.I.P. section of the club, booked by Carina’s parents in honor of her twenty-fifth birthday. He sat in the middle of the red half circle couch, left arm spread on the top while his right hand gripped his third glass of whiskey, holding it on his knee as he tried to look at the faces entering the club through the crowds of people and colorful flashes of light.

It was frustrating, how the moment he stepped into the club, Calum’s dark eyes were searching for Parker, hoping to catch sight of her eyes blues through the pleasant lighting of the club, grateful that it wasn’t too dark. The music was pounding in his ears and his chest, but Calum was too focused on trying to sense Parker’s presence to even acknowledge what song was playing that his friends were dancing and singing along to. So he just sat, feeling the alcohol course through his system and the warmth of the club stick to his skin, all the while waiting for Parker’s arrival.

“You’ve been sitting since we got here.” Violet’s pouting voice reluctantly dragged Calum out of his thoughts, forcing his gaze to break from the door to look at the girl sitting to his right. She wasn’t technically invited to Carina’s party, the birthday girl choosing only to bring close friends including her housemates, but Violet was there as Calum’s plus one. And for the first time, he was regretting her company. His eyes didn’t even take in the skin she was showing in her short tight dress which showed off her long legs and hugged her chest. Feelings for Violet never existed in Calum’s heart, but even so, the last thing on his mind was taking her home with him. That was different and unnerving. She gripped his arm, giving it a squeeze as she leaned into him and offered a smile. “Come on—let’s dance.”

He remained seated, teeth pressing together as his gaze dropped to Violet’s hand sliding down his arm towards his hand. Calum’s grip on the glass tightened as her fingers neared his wrist, knowing that she could feel his muscles tensing under touch. His breath was held in his lungs, almost painfully so, and it wasn’t until Violet’s fingers almost reached his around the glass did Calum force himself to his feet. The sudden action startled Violet, looking up at him with raised eyebrows, as Calum downed the rest of his beverage.

“I need another drink,” he excused gruffly, briefly wondering if his words were drowned out by the music, though not caring as he began walking to the bar on the other side of the dance floor. Calum didn’t even pause to hear what Violet said in response, taking a breath as he shouldered through people with pursed lips and a tense back.

He was basically running away from Violet and it was all because of Parker. Because for the past week, he couldn’t seem to get the blonde out of his mind, couldn’t seem to satiate the animalistic desire of wanting to press his skin against hers in any way. Violet was just a crutch, a familiar warm body in place of the one he’d been able to have once. Calum had thought maybe, if he eased whatever the fuck he felt for Parker just once, then it would be fine. That he’d be able to have a taste and that would be it.

The last thing he expected was to crave her even more.

Being unable to see Parker around the Viridian so much was both a blessing and a curse; whatever he felt for her seemed to calm when her presence wasn’t nearby, but as soon as she walked into view, it was like Calum couldn’t breathe because of the distance between them. The need to be near her, to hold her again and feel her lips on his was almost maddening, and it was fucking terrifying. Such an intense desire, need, yearning for someone had never been something Calum experienced before.

It was dizzying and perplexing and left Calum laying in bed staring at the grey ceiling of his bedroom at night, wondering just how Parker managed to get such an overwhelming grasp on his thoughts. How one moment—one tantalizing, blissful moment—had taken over Calum’s mind without warning. Work and sleeping with Violet didn’t do much to distract him, nothing did. And it was so damn frustrating.

He’d see her around the loft and he’d just. . . Lose his breath. It had happened right on the first night, right when he met her after getting out of the pool. Calum remembered the image perfectly, with Parker standing on the roof with a glass of wine in hand and blonde hair dancing in the light breeze, blue eyes bright just like the city lights around them. Part of him had hoped, in that moment, that she was some girl Luke had brought home and she’d just found her way to the roof. Because then, maybe, Calum wouldn’t feel the instant, snapping attraction that hit him so hard that he felt as though he was drowning in the very pool he’d just gotten out of.

Was that even possible? To take one look at someone and want them in that same moment?

With someone as beautiful as Parker, Calum didn’t doubt it.

Right hand splayed on the bar top, Calum waited for the bartender to give him his drink as he turned sideways, body involuntarily facing the door as his left hand ran through his dark curls, a heavy breath escaping him. He tugged at the curls at the back of his head, eyes washing over the faces all around him as they blurred together while hoping to find the one he’d been searching for.

What was he even supposed to do if he found it?

Mumbling a thanks to the bartender, Calum’s hand wrapped around the glass right when his eyes landed on exactly what he’d been looking for. He paused, the glass midway to his mouth, as he watched with a still heart Parker enter the club. Feeling his breath hitch in his throat, Calum’s eyes tracked her through the crowd, greedily drinking in the sight of the white crop top and leather skirt she wore, blonde hair tied up as her blue eyes searched for familiar faces in the busy club. Even from a distance, Calum’s throat dried at how gorgeous she looked, at the glow of her creamy skin against the lights, wanting to feel it under his fingers and lips.

Then those blue eyes met his brown, and Calum remained perfectly still. He watched the subtle raise of her shoulders as she took in a breath while looking at him, lips parting ever so slightly. Was she going to walk over? Did he want her to?

Why the hell did she confuse the shit out of him?

Parker walked from around one of the raised platforms where a couple of people were dancing and Calum watched as she headed in the opposite direction of where he stood. He knew he had no reason to be disappointed, that he’d been acting like a complete asshole to her and so why would she approach him? Yet still he felt his grip on the glass tighten, watching her go and feeling a discomforting twist in his stomach as she walked away from him. It was his own doing, Calum was aware, and not for the first time did Calum want to punch himself for it.

That desire got stronger throughout the night as Parker kept her distance from Calum, only staying with everyone else but him as she danced and drank and enjoyed her night without him. And all he could do was sit by and watch, letting the alcohol mix in with his blood while he stewed in a pit of irritation and jealousy because she was laughing and smiling with everyone else and it was his fault that she wasn’t doing that with him.

Calum found home against a support beam, using it to keep him upright as he sipped a beer in place of the liquor he’d been drinking throughout the night. He felt warm thanks to his drinks, head feeling heavy and eyes slightly hooded as he watched Parker like he had been throughout the night. It was creepy, he figured, to keep his eyes on her so intensely, but he couldn’t fucking help himself. But she was right in front of him, her hands holding Roslyn’s as the two girls danced together, hips moving to the beat of the music and a happy smile on her face. So easily gorgeous, and Calum probably fucked it up royally with her.

“Stop staring and just talk to her.” Rolling his head to the side against the pillar, Calum caught sight of Luke leaning against it on the other side, blue eyes trained on who Calum was looking at. His blonde curls were wild, cheeks flushed as he too kept himself upright. There was a furrow between his brows as he continued drunkenly, almost drowsily, “It’s obvious you like her. Why’re you acting like such a douche, man? Pushing her away isn’t going to push away your feelings for her.”

Blowing out a soft raspberry, Calum leaned his head back, eyes lifting to look at his taller best friend. He could acutely feel the music drumming in his chest, lazily gripping his drink. “I hate when you become all insightful when you’re drunk.”

Luke rolled his eyes, twisting his lips to the side before retorting, “I hate when you try to ruin things for yourself because you’re scared of your own feelings.”

Jaw slacking, Calum let out a scoff before turning so he could lean against the pillar on his shoulder to properly look at Luke. He felt affronted at the blonde’s statement, despite the truth even his drunken mind could pick up on. Luke was right, because Calum did self sabotage, particularly when it came to relationships. Becoming close with someone was never something Calum was too good at, the fear of letting someone else have a piece of him, a big piece, preventing him from giving anyone any part of himself. And he was fine with that. Hell, he was good at it—a professional, basically.

Which is why whatever he felt for Parker—this mess of desire and want and just as emotional as it was physical—overwhelmed him with confusion because how could it happen? One minute he was fine and the next she was taking over him without even trying. That never happened before and he just. . . Didn’t know how to deal with it. Why was it so hard? Why did he make things difficult for himself? Why couldn’t he just allow for himself a shot at potential happiness without trying to ruin something before it even had a chance of starting?

Calum hadn’t even responded to Luke’s words before the blonde commented, “That must’ve been some good sex if she caught feelings for you after one time.” Then he hummed thoughtfully after taking a sip of his drink. “Or maybe she just really wants to fuck again.”

For a moment Calum felt his thoughts freeze at Luke’s words, eyes widening ever so slightly as he finally choked out, “I—Feelings? What feelings? She’s got feelings? Did she tell you that?”

He sounded uncharacteristically needy, desperate, as the words tumbled out of his mouth and it irked Calum but, shit, he didn’t care in this moment. All he could care about was Luke’s words, the insinuation of Parker having feelings for him even after the shitty way he’d treated her, of that small spark of hope that jump started his heart and had him pushing off the pillar to look at Luke with shot up eyebrows and widened eyes. Feelings. Did Parker have feelings? Still, after how he’d treated her? His heart was pounding and, shit, when did he become someone who cared so much for this?

“No,” Luke scoffed, amusement dancing in his eyes as he looked at Calum, lips curling at the frown that took over the brunette’s face. Offering a shrug, Luke continued, “But it’s obvious. And it’s obvious that you like her too. You’re always making these eyes at each other and I can never tell if it’s because you wanna declare your love or jump each other’s bones.”

Calum’s lips clamped shut, pouting drunkenly and defiantly as he glared at Luke. He did not appreciate the observation, making him feel as though he was being watched. Like his friend was watching him continuously act like an idiot because he couldn’t get his shit together. Because both he and Parker knew there was something there but Calum was an asshole who was pushing her away and she was too good to allow herself that kind of treatment, so she kept her distance. He didn’t blame her. He just was so pissed off at himself for it.

Eventually he found himself at the bar once more, though this time he managed to order himself a club freaking soda rather than indulging himself in more alcohol. The dizziness from the alcohol had him leaning his temple against the palm of his hand, arm propped by his elbow as he kept his eyes closed and let the music drum through his mind.

It was close to two in the morning and Calum was tired, wanted his bed and wanted the girl, but he remained on the stool at the bar. His friends were enjoying their night and he didn’t want to leave them. So he stayed. And he watched Parker dance. And maybe even stewed in a bit of self deprecation and hatred.

“Hi, can I get a margarita, please?”

Opening his eyes, Calum blinked against the flashing lights before his gaze settled on the girl that came up next to him. Calum’s back straightened, watching Parker lean forward on the bar, hands rhythmically tapping on the bartop as she waited for the bartender to get her drink. There was the ever slightest, thin layer of sweat sheening her skin and she looked like she was glowing against the lights, cheeks flushed and just a few of her freckles surfacing across the bridge of her nose and speckled some on her cheeks.

He remembered the way his lips trailed the sharp line of her jaw, wanting so badly to do so again as he rolled his lower lip into his mouth. Calum’s throat worked, eyes drinking in the sight of hers, and then her eyes met his. And then, to Calum’s surprise, instead of frowning or scoffing or turning away, Parker smiled.

A breathtaking, pretty smile that showed off white teeth as she turned her body to face his. “You look like you’re having the time of your life,” she commented, a giggle in her voice as she leaned on the bartop with her arm while her left hand rested on her hip.

Hiding the way he felt off guard at her starting a conversation, Calum swiveled in the stool to face her. She was only a couple of inches taller than him in her heels as he sat, blue eyes looking down at him. “Waitin’ to go home,” Calum answered truthfully, slowly. Her eyes were so pretty. With a small shrug and smile, he added, “Don’t wanna ruin anyone else’s fun.”

Parker raised an eyebrow, tilting her head as she gazed at him. “So you choose to make yourself miserable instead?”

Calum took a soft breath, looking her over as if it was the first time. Because she was so gorgeous and he wanted to get to know her. Yeah. He wanted to know her instead of jumping into bed with her again. He wanted to know her and then go from there. “I tend to do that a lot,” Calum responded, his speech slow thanks to the alcohol. Was it possible for the sight of someone else to sober him up? Parker took a breath at his words and Calum found himself asking, “What took you so long? Getting here?”

“I had surgery,” Parker answered with a hum. “And then had to take care of post-ops. Busy, busy, busy-bee,” she added with a happy grin, thanking the bartender for her drink before lifting it to take a sip through the straw.

“What was it?” Calum asked, genuinely curious as he blinked away some of the drunk fogginess. “How’d it go?”

Her smile widened and Calum tried not to focus on the way her body seemed to move closer to his, to notice the way her thighs pressed against his jean clad knees. “Colon ischemia,” she told him, nodding along to her own words. “Had to remove dead tissue in a dude’s colon. He’s in recovery now.”

A small smile tugged at Calum’s lips as he looked at her, catching the glint in her eyes as she went into some detail about the surgery, the alcohol in her system not inhibiting her from talking about it excitedly. And he listened over the sound of the music, took in the excitement she felt when she talked about something she loved and was good at. It unloaded something in his heart, the smile easing as he looked at the amazing, pretty girl. “You’re kind of a badass, aren’t you?” Calum admired, smiling, truthful.

There was a pinkness in her cheeks, probably matching whatever warmth he was feeling in his own at the sight of her. Fuck. She even made him blush.

And then she leaned in, hand gripping her drink and lips curling into a smirk. Even through the lights, Calum could pick out the freckles on her face under the makeup, could enjoy the glimmer in her eyes and whatever fruity scented perfume she was wearing. His heart was pounding in his ears, muffling the music, as his legs parted without thinking and she stepped in the space between them. Parker’s nose brushed against his and Calum breathed her in, shaky and unsure, wondering what the hell she was doing and knowing he wasn’t going to stop.

Her lips parted, pink and inviting, and she murmured, “I’m a superhero. And one of my superpowers is knowing you’re only talking to me because you’re drunk. Tomorrow, you’re gonna go right back to ignoring my existence, so I’m gonna walk away before you can hurt me more.”

Calum’s eyes widened ever so slightly, throat drying at Parker’s words that made his stomach lurch unpleasantly. He looked into her eyes, blue framed with long lashes, and Calum could make out the disappointment and hurt the supposed truth behind her words that weighed on her and he desperately wanted to get rid of it. Loathed that it was because of him it was even present in the first place.

So when Parker made a move to lean back and away from Calum, his hand found hers, fingers gripping her own as he held her in place, though his grip wasn’t tight. Just enough to keep her there but also so she could break away if she so desired. Parker paused, gaze dropping to their hands before looking back at Calum, questioning and reluctant. He could tell she was fighting her instinctive response of pulling away, lips pursing as she looked at him with a conflicting gaze. He hurt her with his behavior and Calum was still kicking himself for it. If she walked away right now, he wouldn’t blame her.

“I’m a piece o’ shit, I know.” Calum’s words were hasty, like he wanted to quickly get them out before she walked away but not lose any of the genuinity he meant his apology with. He stood to his feet, feeling just the slightest bit dizzy, as Parker’s eyes remained on his while she had to tilt her head back to maintain the gaze. Her throat worked as he towered over her, the minimal space between the stools on the bar forcing them to stand close together as the heat on their skin went from being caused by the buzzing club to their proximity. Looking down at her, Calum licked his lips, trying to put together the right, honest string of words while trying not to think too much about her hand in his. They’d held hands before, in the bathroom against the tiled walls of the shower, but it’d been different. “I’ve been actin’ like a dick and I’m sorry ’bout that, Parker.” The alcohol was making his words sound drowsy and slurred even to him, but Calum hoped the sincerity didn’t get lost. “’M not the best when it comes to dealin’ with certain things and I just—”

Parker pulled her hand from Calum’s, just as he had feared, stumbling ever so slightly as she took a step to her left and back from him. Her right hand gripped her glass, watching the defeat and disappointment that washed over Calum’s face against the light colored flashes of the club. The knot in his chest tightened at the loss of her skin against his, at the slight furrow in her eyebrow as she shook her head. “You’re apologizing because you’re drunk,” she decided after releasing a breath. “And maybe because you wanna fuck again and fill me with disappointment before you start ignoring me again.” Calum’s breath hitched at her words, eyes widening at the sting they snapped through his body as his body leaned back ever so slightly, as if she’d pushed him. Parker gave another shake of her head, eyebrows drawn together as she gave him a once over, a look filled with dismay and despondency. “Just—leave me alone, Calum.”

Then she was turning and walking away, disappearing into the crowd of people, and Calum was left with the aching desire of exchanging his fucking club soda with the harshest whiskey the bar had.

                                                           *****

“Fuck!”

Calum’s fingers instantly froze over the strings of the guitar, eyes widened in confusion flickering up to look at the glass paned wall of his bedroom, though his view to the outside world was obscured thanks to the curtains he’d drawn. For a moment, he wondered if he’d imagined the shout, fluttering unexpectedly through his mind as he enjoyed a quiet night with his guitar. And he’d have believed it, if it weren’t for the unmistakable sound of glass shattering that followed it—the sound that occured right outside of his room.

Getting up from his bed, Calum rested the guitar on the stand by the bedside table before approaching the glass wall, eyebrows drawn together as he strained his ears in hopes of hearing something else that would give him a clue as to what the hell was happening. Parting the curtain ever so slightly, Calum peeked a look outside, gaze darting around the empty roof under the night sky, wondering what it was that he had heard.

But then his eyes landed on the sight of Parker, hard to miss with her blonde hair, since that’s all Calum could see. Because she sat on the ground, back against the raised brick railing of the roof, forehead against her knees with her legs brought up to her chest. Under furrowed eyebrows Calum’s eyes narrowed as he tried to get a better look over the bright lights of the pool, back straightening and the creases in his forehead smoothening when he made out the shaking of Parker’s shoulders, of her body. Like she was crying.

He took a breath, pausing for just a moment as he considered what to do. But another look at Parker, at the way her entire body was trembling and how he had definitely heard something break just moments ago had him coming to a decision before he even let any other thought run through his mind.

Quietly, swiftly, he parted the curtains and opened the glass door of his room, stepping out with his slides on his feet as he cautiously made his way towards Parker. And over the hum of the cars in the city below, Calum could make out the broken, shaky sounds of Parker’s sobs, of her sniffles and choked breathing the closer he got to her seated figure. His heart twisted at the knowledge of her crying, walking around the pool to where she was, eyes catching the glint of glass and when he looked over, just a few feet away from where she sat, were different sized broken pieces of what he could make out as a wine glass. Or what was remaining of one, being able to figure it was that due to part of the handle that remained intact to a half broken base.

It was a bit chilly that night, the cool breeze raising goosebumps on Calum’s arms and legs, exposed to his T-shirt and athletic shorts as he hurried over to where the crying blonde was. “Parker,” Calum breathed, feeling something inside him crack at the clear sounds of her cries, crouching down to her right with his left hand against the brick wall and his right wanting to reach out to her, but unsure if he was allowed. Her hands were gripping knees, head bent and face out of his view, but visibly shaking. A bubble of panic started expanding in the pit of Calum’s stomach at the sight of her, unsure of what happened, unsure of what to do. “Parker, sweetheart, what’s wrong? What’s—” He shook his head, lost and wanting to help. “What’s happened?”

She kept crying. Kept sobbing into herself, either ignoring Calum or not even registering his presence. And that bubble of panic kept growing, a lump forming in his throat because the two of them hadn’t spoken in days but the absolute last thing Calum ever wanted was for Parker to be going through something so awful that she was crying like this. Crying like something terrible had happened. Crying like she’d lost some—

Oh. Shit. Calum hoped that wasn’t the case.

And then, a moment later, Parker’s thick, anguished voice finally said, “She was my first patient.” His heart stopped at her words, his fear being proven correct, as his eyebrows drew together in distress over her state and jaw clenched tightly. Parker lifted her head and despite the nighttime, Calum got a good look at her face, and he didn’t at all like what he saw. He didn’t like the redness of her nose or her eyes, the blue glazed behind pools of unshed tears as the rims of her eyes were lined red; raw and bruised from crying as hard as she was. The sight, undoubtedly, broke Calum’s heart, rendering him breathless from just how broken she looked, and how the only thing he wanted in this world right now was for her to not feel like this. The waves of her blonde hair framed her tear stricken face, lips trembling as her eyes met Calum’s worried brown. “One of my first days my intern year we—she needed an appy and I-I was given the first solo surgery to perform it. And she—she lived.”

The tears in her eyes and sobs in her throat had Parker stumbling over her words, voice scratchy and thick, having to pause to sniffle and catch her breath and Calum listened patiently. Listened with his lips pressed together and fighting the urge to pull her into his arms because she looked so heartbroken and he couldn’t stand it. And it was terrifying to him, how the sight of her was absolutely breaking his heart more than he ever thought possible, more than one would justify. But he couldn’t give a shit. She was hurting, and not for the first time, Calum wanted to make it better, whether it was his fault or not.

Parker blinked, looking away from Calum for a moment as she licked her lips, trying to get her thoughts together. “She—Joanna was my patient for three—” The last word came out breathless, like she ran out of whatever little air she had left, neck tensing as she regained her breathing, all the while looking out at the pool in front of her. “Three years and I was her doctor whenever she came in. One of her doctors but still. “I-I took out her appendix and—and treated her when she got in a car accident last year and helped deliver her baby yesterday and now she’s—she’s gone and we should’ve saved her. I should’ve saved her.”

She broke down. Completely, utterly crumpled in front of Calum’s eyes as the sobs that escaped her strengthened with the help of her heartbreak. Parker’s eyes clenched shut as more tears escaped, body shuddering with her cries and Calum instantly wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, pulling her in and letting her rest her head against his chest as his other hand buried itself in her hair.   

He could feel every cry of hers just as well as he could hear it, holding her close and shutting his own eyes as her grief washed over him. Not as severely as she felt it, but Parker going through it was enough for Calum to feel a suffocating tightness in his chest and strengthen his own hold on her. And her understood, selfishly for the first time, that Parker probably lost people in her line of career, that there were just some that died on her watch and she could do nothing about it except for grieve and then fight to never make the same mistake twice.

And holding her right now, in this period of heart wrenching mourning, Calum rested his chin atop her head, the faint scent of her fruity shampoo washing over him, and let her cry into his shirt. He felt her fist his shirt in her grasp, felt her clutch onto him desperately as she ached over the loss of someone important to him. And he hated that he couldn’t do anything to help except hold her to him.

“Parker, you—” Calum cut himself off, unsure of what to say, unsure of what were the right words because he didn’t know if there were any. He opened his eyes, taking a breath as he looked up at the dark cloudless sky with a few stars glittering across. “I’m sure you did everythin’ you could’ve—”

“I should’ve worked harder,” she whimpered, shaking her head before pulling away from him, red eyes and red nose and flushed cheeks that were all breaking Calum’s heart further. How she managed to get such a tight hold on him, he had no idea, but he didn’t question it. Not right now. Her hands pressed against his chest, putting some distance as she continued, “Should’ve looked at her tests and should’ve picked it up sooner—”

“Parker, Parker,” Calum cut her off, his voice raspy in his own desperation as his hands found her freckled, tear splattered cheeks. His thumbs wiped away what he could, feeling the softness of her cry-blotched face as he got her to look at him, his throat working at the redness of her face. Ignoring the tickles of his own curls across his forehead, Calum cleared his throat lightly as their faces neared, holding her close. “You did everythin’ you could’ve,” he repeated, stronger and surer this time. He couldn’t be sure, he knew, but he believed it. “You’re in pain and you’re grieving and it’s just making you blame yourself. Please, don’t. You just—you need rest, okay? This isn’t helpin’ you. Don’t do this to yourself, sweetheart, please.”

She’d been crying for hours, he knew—could tell from the state of her eyes and the hoarseness of her voice—and so he wanted her to just stop for now. Wanted her to be able to take a breath and close her eyes and be able to sleep despite the heaviness in her soul. Even if she disagreed, even if she began shaking her head as she understood his words and closed her eyes, trying to pull away, but he kept his hold. “Sleep, please, it’ll—”

“It won’t bring Joanna back,” her voice cracked, shoulders sinking as she sniffled.

“Neither will this,” Calum told her, swallowing the thickness in his own throat, keeping his dark eyes on her blue. “Neither will sittin’ out here making yourself sick over somethin’ like this.”

She was quiet for a few moments, the only sounds coming from the still awake city below and the occasional sniffles she was trying to get control over, glassy eyes looking out at the pool as she considered Calum’s words. He looked at her, patiently and worriedly, chewing on the inside of his lower lip. And then her gaze dropped, looking at the length of Calum’s tattooed arm since his hands were still on her cheeks and then she spoke up. Her voice was a whisper, almost lost in the night, but Calum heard it. “I don’t wanna sleep alone.”

Calum’s expression softened, understandment washing over his features as he took a quiet breath. When her blue eyes met his brown, Calum felt something in his heart clenched and he nodded without hesitation. Despite their distance in the past however long, Calum was keen on not leaving her side. Because he’d hurt her enough and wanted to make up for it, but he hated that it had to be this way.

“Come on,” he murmured, soft and reassuring as one arm went around her waist. “Up you go.”

The walk to his room was a quick one after Parker wiped at her face, the door clicking shut behind them as he hesitantly let her go to close the curtains, the room a bit dark to the lack of light save for the single lamp on his bedside. When Calum turned, he saw Parker, red eyed and nosed, looking around his room, taking in a part of him she hadn’t been privy to until this moment.

He watched her take in the two bookshelves full of books and vinyls, the record player right by it along with the guitar, the TV set up on a table opposite of the bed. She took in the furry dark rug by the bed, the cushioned chair and covers of vinyl records he had taped to the wall above the bed. There was a doorway to a closet, as well as to a showerless bathroom to make things just a little bit easier for Calum living so far from the communal bathrooms. But the other trinkets and decorations around the room, they all screamed of Calum’s personality Parker wanted to know, and he realized, over the course of the past few days, that he wanted her to.

His hand lifting, running his fingers through his hair as he took a breath and licked his lips. The sight of Parker standing in the middle of his room, taking in everything around her, had his throat tightening. “You can take the bed.”

Her head turned to look at him, a delicate furrow on her eyebrows as she asked, “What about you?”

Calum offered her a smile, reassuring and sincere as he gestured to the comfortable chair by the bed. It was cushioned and soft, whoever sat in it would just sink into the material, and he’d already fallen asleep in it more than once. “I’ll sleep on that.”

Eyes darting to the chair, Parker’s frown deepened with parted lips, taking a disagreeing breath as she shook her head. “Wh—no. I can’t ask you to do that.” She swallowed, throat working as she added, “I’ll just go to my room. I shouldn’t even be bothering you with this.”

She made a move to walk towards the door, but Calum was in her way, his heart in his throat. “No—stay.” Parker stopped at Calum’s words, mouth pressing together as she stared up at him with wondrous, disbelieving eyes. She saw the corners of his lips quirk upwards in a hopeful smile. “You shouldn’t—I don’t want you t’be alone tonight. So just—stay, yeah? Please.”

If she really didn’t want to, of course Calum wouldn’t force her to against her will. But fortunately, he saw Parker’s resolve breaking, probably because of how late it was, how tired she was over her loss. It was quite the change both of them were faced with, going from him avoiding her to her avoiding him to him offering his bed to her. But the sight of Parker crying so hopelessly had shaken Calum, so much more than he ever thought possible, making it a sight he never wanted to witness again because it was awful.

Parker pulled her lower lip into her mouth, chewing it for a moment as she looked at him. They stared at one another for a moment, taking in the sight of his tattooed arms and curly hair and sincere expression that melted some of the tightness in her heart, and she relented. “Okay.”

They adjusted, with Calum taking one pillow and blanket from the bed for himself on the chair, settling into the comfortable furniture as he watched, just a few feet away, Parker take off her slippers and slip into the bed under the blanket, already in her pajamas. The glow of the lamp lit up her face as she lay on her side, facing it, facing where Calum laid on the chair nearby. He looked at her, cheek resting against his own pillow with the blanket at his waist also resting on his side.

It was a sight, having her in his bed, not exactly expecting it to be under these circumstances. But Calum didn’t care nor did he mind. He didn’t want to be alone tonight and if this was how it had to be, he was perfectly fine with it. So long as Parker knew that he would be there for her if she needed him to be.

They were quiet for a moment, the silence of the night settling over them in his room. He wondered if his pillow and blanket would smell like her in the morning, kind of hoped for it, prayed that she’d be able to get a good night’s rest.

“She had complications after delivery.” Parker’s voice was quiet, eyes unfocused and looking at something past Calum, maybe the shelves behind him, and he stayed quiet. “Postpartum preeclampsia. It—it’s a rare condition and we should’ve known because she had diabetes. But she just—” Parker stopped, voice shuddering, throat working as she remained laying on the bed. “She stroked out. And we were just—too late.”

Calum swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, feeling the pain in Parker’s voice and just how much this was affecting her. He couldn’t imagine that kind of ache she was suffering through, couldn’t imagine the weight of the guilt she was enduring over losing a patient she’d known for so long, someone she was meant to take care of. Having someone’s life in your hands—Calum couldn’t imagine it, and he realized that he admired Parker for the career she had. She saved people’s lives for a living. No doubt the loss of one she failed to help would eat away at her tremendously, especially if it was a patient she’d been treating for years.

He so desperately wanted to help her. Except all he could say right now was a soft and sincere, “I’m sorry.”

For everything.

Parker pulled the blanket up to her chin, blue eyes flashing to Calum’s brown, letting out a breath. She looked at him and Calum felt a shiver run down his spine because the way she was looking at him made him feel as though she was looking for something. He wasn’t sure if she found what she was looking for, wasn’t sure what she was thinking, as Parker reached for the hanging handle of the lamp and murmured to Calum, “I know,” before shutting it off.

Both spent most of the night thinking of each other, thinking of everything that’s happened, but never saying a word. Never reaching out to the person laying just a few feet away from them. But they thought of each other. Dreamt of each other. Hoped things would get better. And, eventually, fell asleep.

                                                       *****

Parker stood in front of the glass door, shuffling on her feet and wondering if she should just knock on the damn door. She’d been standing outside of it for about five minutes now, silently debating this, when she knew she should just fucking knock. But Parker was nervous and a little bit scared, if she was being honest, because last night Calum had been so kind and sincere with her that she was dreading the potential rude awakening she may have to face. That it had only been a one time thing because he caught her sobbing her heart out and felt for her in that moment, and now things were going to go back to the way they had been for weeks now.

Still, Parker felt bad. She had left early this morning, before Calum even woke up because she was being paged, and left in a hurry. Truthfully, she wanted to thank him for letting her stay in his room last night, because despite the way he’d been acting towards her leading up to last night, Parker still appreciate the kindness—even if it was simple, decent human behavior. But she’d never been one to take someone’s kindness and not thank them for it. Which is why she was here now.

So she knocked, knuckles rapping on the glass pane, throat working to swallow the nervous lump that had formed as she waited for him to answer. Parker played with her fingers, picking at her unpainted nails as she looked around the roof, the late afternoon sun providing a warm glow all over. Her admirance of it was cut short, however, when the door swung open and there stood Calum.

Her breath hitched at the sight of him, only in grey sweats and an oversized darker grey shirt, looking unfairly adorable with his messy curls and providing Parker with the sudden, ridiculous urge to just fucking hug him. He looked so comfortable in his clothes, yet so attractive with the tattoos inking his brown skin and the scruff he was sporting. It was dizzying, just looking at him.

“Hi,” she found herself greeting, voice expectedly a whisper as she offered a smile.

She noticed the slight raise in Calum’s eyebrows at the sight of her, hand going from gripping the door handle to the frame higher up, offering a small smile of his own. “Hey,” he responded easily. His dark eyes took in the sight of her, showered and in leggings and a tank top after returning from her shift at the hospital. Brown met blue as he surprised her by asking, “Wanna come in?”

Parker looked over his shoulder into the familiar room, not entirely expecting that offer. She’d been waiting for the cold yet blank looks and unfriendly nature, which may be unfair given how he’d acted the night before—yet still justifiable because of how he’d behaved every day leading up to it—right? Still, Parker felt herself nod as she answered, “Yeah.”

She got a whiff of his familiar, dizzying cologne as he stepped aside to let her in, mixed in with the faintest scent of nicotine as Calum shut the door behind her. The room was just as same as the night before, of course, only this time the afternoon sun sweeped in through the curtains and their was a glow in his room in place of the darkness from before. Turning to face Calum, Parker was once again playing with her fingers as she started, “I just, uh, wanted to thank you. For, you know, listening to me last night and letting me sleep in your bed.” She licked her lips nervously, heart leaping ever so slightly as she saw his eyes track the movement before unapologetically meeting her gaze once more. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I did,” came his immediate response, one corner of his mouth lifting up, as if allowing Parker to sleep in his bed was something he did all the time. Like it was no big deal. “You were going through somethin’ and I don’t—I didn’t want you to be alone last night.” Then Calum let out a quiet, raspy and breathy chuckle that screamed of self deprecation as he shrugged his shoulders and his left hand reached up to rub the side of his neck, silver bracelet slinking downwards. “You probably wanted to be with a friend or somethin’, but I, um, I wanted you to know that ’m here for you, too.”

Parker could feel her heart pounding in her chest and hear it in her ears, teeth pressing together briefly at Calum’s words, eyeing him for any sign of insincerity. But he looked genuine, sounded it too, along with disappointment in himself for even having to put himself in a category that wasn’t considered being friends with Parker. Yet he still managed to make her heart race, make her wonder if he wanted to be just her friend or something more. “Really?”

Calum’s hand dropped to his side, Adam’s apple in his throat working as he instantly answered, “Yes.” He released a sharp breath, sounding so loud in the comforting quiet of his room as he took two steps towards Parker as he said, “I’m sorry, doll, for everything. I’m sorry ’bout your patient—’bout Joanna. I’m sorry you’re hurtin’ and that I can’t fix it. And I’m—’m sorry for bein’ such an asshole and hurtin’ you just because I couldn’t get my own shit together and treated you so badly. I’m sorry for callin’ you an intruder when you first got here—” He almost laughed at how stupid he’d been.” Calum wasn’t sure if he’d apologized to one person so much before in his life, but he meant every word. Every fucking syllable. Hurting Parker ate away at him a lot more than he thought it would, the whole situation escalating out of his control, and it almost drove him crazy. It drove him crazy that he wanted her right away, drove him mad when he finally got to have her, and it drove him completely fucking insane that he was being such a shitty person to her when she’d done absolutely nothing wrong. Who was he to give her more crap to worry about than she already had to? Who the fuck did that? Especially to someone they liked? It was sick.

His throat felt dry, but Calum didn’t care as he now stood in front of Parker, his height towering over hers as their eyes never left each others; his genuine and honest and desperate and hers incredulous and bewildered and—dare he consider it—elated. It gave him a little bit of hope, a little bit of a push to keep going. “I don’t expect you to forgive me right away, or at all, but I really am sorry, Parker. I am. . .” He trailed off breathily, letting out a slightly incredulous laugh as he shook his head at himself. “I am so sorry that ’m absolutely terrible at tellin’ the girl I like how I feel because she deserves more than that from me. You deserve more than that.”

Parker wondered, right there, if Calum could hear the way her heart was hammering in her chest, how she could feel every nerve in her body electrify with every word he spoke. She was acutely aware of everything; of the strands of her blonde hair tickling the bare skin of her shoulders, of the complete dryness of her mouth Calum’s tenderly intense words created, of the glorious tightness in her chest that wasn’t caused by pain or hurt but by relief and disbelief and so much more her spinning head couldn’t quite properly focus on.

He liked her. He liked her and he was sorry for everything. He liked her and he completely meant it.

She could see the apology in Calum’s eyes, could hear it in the desperation of his words. They could, and would, have a much longer conversation about it all later. But right now, Parker didn’t want to hurt. He was trying to make up for it, was already succeeding at it, and she could give him grief over it later on. Right now, she just wanted him.

“You know,” she spoke up, a lilt creeping into her tone as she took a step towards him, the distance between their bodies closing up exponentially as her eyes never left his. Calum watched her, intensely and hopefully and longingly, and she felt her heart flutter. Parker was tired of all the bullshit. She just wanted to go past it. And, admittedly, she wanted Calum. Practically from the moment she’d met him. Her eyes flickered to his lips, full and pink and kissable, before continuing, “I’m getting tired of you deciding what I deserve. You can’t decide things for me and expect me to abide by them, Calum.”

His throat worked, eyes dropping to her own pink lips, adoring the freckles on her face and wanting to spend hours counting every single one. Maybe he could someday. “You’re absolutely right,” Calum responded, his voice unintentionally dropping to a raspy whisper, one that sent a pleasant shiver down Parker’s spine. His forehead dropped, pressing against hers, curls brushing against her skin. The small smile that had tugged on his lips faltered slightly, sighing softly as he admitted, “I definitely don’t deserve you, though.”

Parker couldn’t help but roll her eyes, leaning away ever so slightly as their hands absently found each other’s. “Again with the executive decision making,” she huffed out, only slightly joking, as she pursed her lips up at Calum. He rolled his own lips into his mouth, gaze dropping, and Parker shook her head, squeezing his hands as she felt the cool metal of his rings against her skin. With a kind, gentle smile, she added, “I forgive you.” His eyes met hers, disbelieving and confused, and her smile widened. “I do, because I spend way too much time in a hospital where people don’t ever say what they mean to those they care about and who regret what they didn’t get to do once it’s too late. I don’t—” Parker paused, worrying that she may be coming off too strong, relaxing only at the sight of the soft smile on Calum’s face and the reassuring squeeze he gave her hands this time. Her heart fluttered; she liked this side of him. Could definitely get used to it. “I don’t want to have any regrets, and I don’t want you to, either.” She smiled, pretty and honest. “Doctor’s orders.”

The last two words had a gentle, adoring laugh escaping Calum, one that widened Parker’s grin because it was a sound she wanted to hear more of. A sight, full of a wide grin and crinkled eyes, she never wanted to forget, as his forehead returned to press against hers. It was tender, he was tender, a complete change from how things had been between them, yet neither would have it any other way. Because even though it may only have been a few weeks, it felt like a lifetime where they spent avoiding each other, acting stupid and ignoring their feelings. And being there, holding each other’s hands and breathing the other in, strangely felt like coming home.

It was terrifying and nerve wracking and completely ridiculous to feel this way after only meeting just weeks ago. But, God, neither of them cared. Not when it felt this good and this right. Not when they’d gone through tedious avoidances and mishandled feelings.

“Doctor’s orders, huh?” Calum grinned, nose brushing against Parker’s, their foreheads still pressed together and the distance between them practically nonexistent. Their skin was heating up with the desire of wanting to be closer than they were, both eager to give in. Calum hummed approvingly. “I think I can follow those.”

Parker couldn’t help the grin on her face; wide and goofy and relieved as she stared into a pair of brown eyes that were more warm and inviting than she’d ever seen them. She tilted her mouth towards his, lips brushing together and sending jolts of electricity down both of their bodies. It was a wonder they didn’t close the gap right then and there. “You sure?”

She was teasing him. Calum could see it in the glint in her eyes and the lilt in her tone, and it only made him want to kiss her more. Made him appreciate Parker and who she was, and he couldn’t wait to get to know her more. In every single way possible. Trying to keep his distance from her when she first moved into the Viridian had been an idiot’s move on his part, which only backfired on him later on. But Calum knew, in that moment with her hands in his and her lips slowly coming to touch his, that Parker Hayden being the newest member of the Viridian had the potential of being the best thing that could’ve happened to him.

His lips brushed hers, a soft and honest murmur of, “Yes, doc,” escaping him, and the last thing he saw was Parker’s widened smile before pressing his lips to hers. They melted into each other, instantly and familiarly and finally. This time, the promise of there being more excited their hearts and slowed their kiss; soft and languid and savoring every movement of lips. This time, they allowed themselves to truly get lost in the other’s touch because they knew, deep down, they may have also found themselves in the other.

tags: @crownedbyluke @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @softforcal @valentinelrh @hotmessmichael @meetashthere @astroashtonio @calumh-excess @hearts-to-the-sky @old-zeppelin-shirt @angelbbycal @captain-what-is-going-on @calumthoodsyonce @cathartichaoss @misskarynie @softboycal @soulmatecashton @babygirlcashton @cxddlyash @calumhoodless @wrappedaroundcal @calumculture @ohhmuke @fucking5sos @heavenlyhemminqs @cosmixcalum @invisiblexcth @gettingjillywithit @calistheloml @cliffordcntrl @asht0ns-world @hereforlukescruff @ghostofch @ghostsofhood @dxmncalum @bitchinbabylon @walkedhomealone @poppedpins @5secondssofssummer @calumsmermaid @booklove-2 @empathycth @checkeredcalum @lovelettercalum @kchillout @rosecoloredash @theagenderwhocriedwolf @cal-pal-cuddles @xhaileyreneex @calteahood @biwriting @2k17muke @sublimehood @tupeloohoneyy @egyptiangoldhood @x-valntyne-x @bloodlinecal @97britt @emma070900 @mmxiihood @monsteramongmikey @akacalciumhood @thebodaciouscth @5sos-stan4lyfe @lipstickstainfading @flannelpunkcalum @c-sainthood @inlovehoodx @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @fireupthatthrone @lmao5sosimagines @isabella-mae13 @mysteriouslycali @teageowen @fallfrxmgrace @dontjinx-it @thewackywriter @caswinchester2000 @calntynes @post-traumatic-mess @kissmefree 

[orthodoxydaily]

Icon,Saints&Reading: Sat., Sept. 19, 2020

Commemorated on September 6_old Julian calendar

The Remembrance of the Miracle, worked by the Holy Archistrategos (Heavenly Hosts Leader) Michael, at Khona (4c)

     The Remembrance of the Miracle, worked by the Holy Archistrategos (Heavenly Hosts Leader) Michael, at Khona (IV): In Phrygia, not far from the city of Hieropolis, in a place called Kherotopos, there was a church named for the Archangel Michael, and outside the church flowed a health-curative spring. This church was built through the zeal of a certain inhabitant of the city of Laodiceia in gratitude to God and to the holy Archistrategos Michael, who had appeared in a dream vision to this man – the father of a mute girl, and who then had not yet been illumined by holy Baptism, and revealed to him, that his daughter would receive the gift of speech in drinking from the water of the spring. During her drinking the girl actually did receive healing and began to speak. After this miracle, the father with his daughter and all their family were baptised, and in fervent gratitude the father built the church in honour of the holy Archistrategos Michael. And for healing began to come to the water-spring not only Christians, but also pagans. In so doing, many of the pagans turned from their idols and were converted to the faith in Christ.      At this church of the holy Archistrategos Michael a certain pious man by the name of Archippos served over the span of 60 years as church-attendant. By his preaching and by the example of his saintly life he brought many a pagan to faith in Christ. With the general malice of that time towards Christians, and even moreso against Archippos, who had never forsaken the church and gave example of a real servant of Christ, the pagans gave thought to destroying the church and at the same time kill Archippos. Towards this end they made a confluence of two mountainous rushing streams and directed its combined flow against the church. Saint Archippos prayed fervently to the Archistrategos Michael to ward off the danger. Through his prayer the Archangel Michael appeared at the temple, and with a blow of his staff opened into the mountain a wide fissure and commanded to flow into it the rushing torrents of water. The temple thus remained unharmed. In beholding such an awesome miracles, the pagans fled in terror, and Archippos together with Christians gathered in church glorified God and gave thanks to the holy Archangel Michael for the help. The place where the miracle happened received the name "Khona", which means "opening" or "fissure".

© 1996-2001 by translator Fr. S. Janos.

The Kievo-Bratsk Icon of the Mother of God (1654)

Commemorated on September 6, May 10 and June 2

     The Kievo-Bratsk Icon of the Mother of God was situated at first in the Borisoglebsk church in the city of Vyshgorod (Kiev), where it miraculously appeared in the year 1654. In 1662, during the time of war of Russia with Poland (1659-1667), the city was dealt heavy losses by the Crimean Tatars fighting on the side of the Polish. The temple of the holy Passion-Bearers Boris and Gleb was destroyed and defiled. But the Providence of God preserved the holy wonderworking icon of the Mother of God, which was taken out of the church beforehand in time and set off along the Dniepr, and the relics of the saints they hid beneathe a crypt. The river carried the icon to the Podola river-bank at Kiev, where it was joyfully taken up by the Orthodox and with due reverence transferred to the Bratsk monastery. In the records of church property of the Kievo-Bratsk monastery, made in the year 1807, was given its description. There existed a "Song about the wonderworking Kievo-Bratsk Icon of the Mother of God", compiled soon after the year 1692.Celebration of the Kievo-Bratsk Icon of the Mother of God is made thrice within the year: 6 September, 10 May and 2 June. All these days are dedicated to the miraculous appearance of the holy icon in 1654. The original of the icon has not been preserved. The icon copy was written from it "measure for measure", and is at present located in the Kiev monastery of the Pokrov (Protection) of the Mother of God.

© 1996-2001 by translator Fr. S. Janos.

Source Holy Trinity Orthodox_ Baltimore

“Arapet” Icon of the Mother of God

The Arapet, or “Arabian” Icon of the Most Holy Theotokos appeared while the holy Apostle Thomas (October 6) was evangelizing Ethiopia, Arabia, and India.

Instead of the usual three stars (signifying the perpetual virginity of the Mother of God), the outer garment of the Theotokos has three circles with the head of an angel inside each one. In this feature, it resembles the icons “In Giving Birth you Preserved your Virginity” (“A Virgin Before and After Giving Birth”) (October 17) and “O All-Hymned Mother” (October 6).

Source Orthodox Church of America

Matthew 24:1-13

1Then Jesus went out and departed from the temple, and His disciples came up to show Him the buildings of the temple.2And Jesus said to them, "Do you not see all these things? Assuredly, I say toyou, not one stone shall be left here upon another, that shall not be thrown down."3Now as He sat on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to Him privately, saying, "Tell us, when will these things be? And what will be the sign of Your coming, and of the end of the age?"4And Jesus answered and said to them: "Take heed that no one deceives you.5For many will come in My name, saying, 'I am the Christ,' and will deceive many.6And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not troubled; for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet.7For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. And there will be famines, pestilences, and earthquakes in various places.8All these are the beginning of sorrows.9Then they will deliver you up to tribulation and kill you, and you will be hated by all nations for My name's sake.10And then many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another.11Then many false prophets will rise up and deceive many.12And because lawlessness will abound, the love of many will grow cold.13But he who endures to the end shall be saved.

Hebrews 2:2-10 

2For if the word spoken through angels proved steadfast, and every transgression and disobedience received a just reward,3 how shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation, which at the first began to be spoken by the Lord, and was confirmed to us by those who heard Him,4God also bearing witness both with signs and wonders, with various miracles, and gifts of the Holy Spirit, according to His own will?5For He has not put the world to come, of which we speak, in subjection to angels.6But one testified in a certain place, saying:"What is man that You are mindful of him, Or the son of man that You take care of him?7You have made him a little lower than the angels; You have crowned him with glory and honor, And set him over the works of Your hands.8You have put all things in subjection under his feet." For in that He put all in subjection under him, He left nothing that is not put under him. But now we do not yet see all things put under him.9But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, for the suffering of death crowned with glory and honor, that He, by the grace of God, might taste death for everyone.10For it was fitting for Him, for whom are all things and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons to glory, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings.

[a-very-fond-farewell]

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 25/?

Gaming Chat AU [xuexiao + songxiao = ?]: “Lie to Me”

[tw cyber bullying; tw use of slurs; tw fake suicide mention; there’s a redemption arc, but it starts with 15yo Xue Yang being... well, himself I guess. so be warned.]

[attn!: I don’t know shit about playing games and going to quests with strangers on the internet so bear with me. if you feel inspired by this please, by all means, feel free to use this prompt and write something and then tag me so I can read it and reblog it!]

[enjoy!]

*

It’s been 15 years since that idiotic intern at the school counseling center suggested him to... what did he say? “Channel his anger in something productive”. And then tried to talk Meng Shi into purchasing a fucking computer to let him “get off some steam” by killing fictional people instead of smashing actual valuable objects like, say, the principal’s Mercedes with a stolen golf club, or, the nurse’s desk with a fire extinguisher back in middle school.

Good thing Su She had disappeared under mysterious circumstances after Xue Yang had surreptitiously let the intern’s uni professor know in a detailed email how the aspiring counselor had suggested him (a sweet innocent 15 year old) to use his new computer to watch porn instead of focusing on his studies. Song Lan was much better than him, and bitchier too, which was fine by Xue Yang anyway. Not that he cared.

What good had that stupid glorified television brought him in the end? Most of the computers at school had become intimately familiar with many a malware and virus already with how frequently he used to browse through the deep web. The ones at the local library had let him in on the secrets of 4ch*n since the tender age of 8. Hell, even his pediatrician had made the glorious mistake to leave him alone in her office one merry day of winter when he discovered the wonders of x-rated videos.

But Meng Shi had tried to cheer him up anyway, buying him that stupid thing. Working her ass off at the bar trying to make social services forget she used to be a stripper back in the days. All to provide a place for children in foster care to feel safe, the stupid hag. Xue Yang wasn’t fucking stupid, he knew she was collecting money for every kid ever stepping inside her ratty flat. He knew that she would have never adopted anyone for real because she already had a son and she was working to send him to university anyway.

Yet, she had come home one day with a big smile on her youngish and bland face, hoisting up the heavy computer in a box, and told Xue Yang to share it with his siblings. Yeah, fuck that. That little bitch A-Qing was even worse than him, and she probably used to sell feet-pictures recycled from the internet to disgusting men online. To this day Xue Yang is none the wiser and he doesn’t need to know what that fucking witch had been up to at 14. XuanYu would have used the computer to stream and torrent shit nonstop to sell at school even if he was only, like, 12. Qin Su was 15 like him and she would have been tempted to set up a fucking YT channel and subject him and XuanYu to whatever scientific experiment she would have come up with. And Meng Yao had too much embarrassing blackmail material on Xue Yang already, he didn’t need to have access on his erased search history after digging gods-knows for how long.

Ahah no. No thanks.

But detention got him occupied for so long by cutting library books pages down to papermen without getting bored out of his mind. And he did have his fun that one time when he caught a pervert with a hand down his pants when they chatted on Om*gle after Xue Yang had catfished him good by pretending to be a girl. Got everything on tape and published the whole interaction on the school website for everyone to see. Which had been appropriate at the time, given that the man had been part of the board of directors. Fittingly hilarious too.

Still, boredom loomed over him like a quilt of sadness on summer break and he had been tempted to log in and play games in the end. Nobody wanted him in their stupid ass teams anyway, with him having higher kill counts than them and all, not following tactics and so on. Whatever.

Until one day user shuan_ghua naively trusted Xue Yang when the other assured him that “teabagging“ was just a fancy slang for ordering a cup of jasmine tea. The 17 year old boy named Xiao XingChen had thanked him for teaching something new to him and then proceeded to ask him to join his one-man-party out of fucking nowhere.

Everything changed after that.

[more under the cut. it’s long long tho]

XXC family!:

XXC is 17 at the beginning of the story and he used to live with his mother Baoshan [i know that “Sanren” and “Daoren” are titles, but in absence of a real surname I will use them as such for this prompt. feel free to change that if you take inspiration from this post to write your take on the story] and the rest of their family on a mountain before they moved back to the city in Gusu.

XXC’s mother was barely 20 when she got married the first time and her first son Daoren YanLing was born. two years later her husband died and she travelled a lot afterwards, adopting 4yo CanSe when she was 25. then she married again at 41, had XXC at 44, and then divorced at 48.

CanSe eloped with ChangZe when she was 18 and got WWX at 20, the same year her own mother got married again (at 41).

BaoShan got XXC three years later (at 44).

hence, WWX is 3 whole ass years older than XXC despite being his nephew. both boys find the thing absolutely hilarious.

YanLing and CanSe are only 1 year apart and they still bicker nonstop. both of them went to school with Lan QiRen and his older brother and frequently got in fights back in the days at Gusu.

(if YanLing had a thing for Lan QiRen, well, nobody has to know)

XXC, being the baby of his family, is doted on by YanLing and brought to mischief by CanSe until XXC’s father divorces their mother and they move on the mountain along with ChangZe and 7yo WWX.

up on the mountain BaoShan works as a tour guide and she takes baby XXC and WWX on hikes along with tourists to admire the beauty of the scenery.

XXC’s sight starts deteriorating when he is 12 and WWX is 15. they have been homeschooled until then, so when it gets clear XXC will not improve much so far away from proper healthcare, the whole family moves back to the city in Gusu.

XXC is not comfortable leaving his new home, not with all those new noises and flashing lights. WWX is drawn to them instead, more than happy to enroll in school, where he meets JC and he realizes the boy is the son of CanSe’s middle school boyfriend. WWX declares them to be almost-brothers and is perfectly fine with adopting even JC’s older sister in the family and CanSe can only laugh at that. JC and YanLi visit XXC often as a result and they help him make sense of the new environment without stressing him too much.

YanLing finds a job as a cook in WWX’s school and he is back to making Lan QiRen’s life impossible after learning the man is a teacher there.

LWJ and LXC’s mother is a music teacher there as well and YanLing bonds with her to make Lan QiRen life’s an absolute nightmare.

LWJ and LXC make friends with the mountain gremlins and they are initially horrified by their manners: XXC would pick food from the ground and eat it, it doesn’t have to be his for that to happen to begin with; WWX doesn’t realize he should cut his nails (both for his feet and hands) until he is forced to wear shoes outside and not climb up trees, for he assumed nails simply never grew bc he used them constantly, wearing them down; etc.

LWJ hates himself for falling for WWX but he cannot care less.

LXC notices how lonely XXC feels when wangxian becomes a thing, so he buys him a computer to better gather more information about the world and adjust the settings to maximum accessibility whenever XXC wants to read something.

by the age of 17 XXC is mostly left alone in the house: WWX goes to uni; his mother BaoShan works at a local museum; his brother YanLing is trying to not get fired at his job; and his sister CanSe has started to travel with her husband selling the delicate dizi flutes ChangZe makes as an artisan.

XXC is also on the waiting list for an important eye surgery and he figures he has a couple of years to go before he will either lose his sight or be granted a second chance at life altogether.

XY’s family!:

Meng Shi had Meng Yao at 19 and started stripping the following year in Yunmeng. 

her friend SiSi helped her both financially and emotionally, spending time with A-Yao while she worked at night. after four years she can move out of her flat and finds a job as a bartender downtown. she would have kept her old job, if SiSi hadn’t convinced her to think of A-Yao first, who was painfully shy and didn’t know how to socialize with other kids his age.

at 24 she starts the paperwork to become a foster parent and has to child-proof her entire apartment before the first kid arrives. at 25 she welcomes Qin Su, who is only 5, and initially A-Yao doesn’t want to share his mother with anyone. the situation gets bad to the point social services have to take Qin Su away one year later, because she tried to set A-Yao’s hair on fire in retaliation once, but two years later Meng Shi gets her back.

A-Yao, now 9 years old, has thought about it and reasoned that having a sister wasn’t so bad after all. Qin Su is only one year younger than him and she will not take up much space, right? wrong. but they bond over their shared nerdiness and while A-Su likes to blow things up, A-Yao helps his mother with taxes every year.

at 29 Meng Shi takes in XuanYu, who is not an orphan like A-Su, and still misses his birth mother fiercely. she had to give him up for adoption when he was 3, because she had been only 15 when XuanYu was born and her family threatened to disown her. 

being profoundly deaf on top of that, no foster home wanted to have him and he was kept in the system for three years after his mother had to let him go. the woman had tried to be present for him while he waited for a family to pick him, teaching him sign language and reading lips, but she had been forced to eventually let go.

XuanYu arrives at Meng Shi’s when he’s 6. A-Yao (10yo) and A-Su (9yo) try their best to involve their new brother, but they don’t know how to communicate with him. SiSi takes the children to sign language classes at the community center after school and XuanYu warms up to them. he teaches Meng Shi what they learned the previous day every morning, before going to school. teachers don’t really pay attention to him, but he manages by reading lips when people face him properly, which is a rare occurrence, but he tries his best.

when A-Yao and A-Su realizes A-Yu is being bullied, they start to get nasty, setting backpacks on fire and terrorizing the other children at school. even when they move to middle school one after the other nobody picks on A-Yu, fearing what his siblings could do.

XY arrives at Meng Shi’s when she is 32 (A-Yu is 9, A-Su is 12, A-Yao is 13) and XY is 12. A-Su initially gets jealous bc they are the same age, but XY doesn’t talk to anyone for a year and ignores her attempts to rile him up. Meng Shi had been warned about him: his father had killed his mother and then failed to kill himself afterwards... and XY still believed the man was out there, looking for him to finish the job. XY had lived on the street for years before social services could find him, but he had felt trapped like a dog, not wanting to be touched, frequently running away.

XY doesn’t remember much of his life before entering foster care. he only knows everything is a bother, that his nightmares give him constant migraines, and that he doesn’t care how he lost one of his fingers. but anyone who makes fun of him for that gets kicked, that’s for sure.

it’s only when A-Qing (12) comes one year after XY’s arrival that things get a bit better... so to speak. 

she is even less well behaved than him, thrashing around at night, screaming at the top of her lungs, saying that she doesn’t want to be there. that she’s better than the rest of them combined. 

her anger issues trigger something in XY and the two of them get into fights with each other constantly.

A-Yao (14) and A-Su (13), reminiscing of the 2 years they spent apart because they couldn’t stop hitting each other up, take the issue seriously and convince Meng Shi to ask for help. SiSi is the one taking A-Qing and XY to therapy two times a week and they are followed through by professionals who know how to tackle their issues, an elderly woman who goes by the name of Lan Yi (LWJ and LXC’s paternal grandma) and her assistant Wen Qing, an intern working there for uni credits.

one year later XY is 14 and A-Qing is 13 and they... don’t really love each other, but at least they can talk to one another without trying to kill anyone in the process. they spend a lot of time with A-Yu (11) and learn sign language to keep him entertained.

by the age of 35, Meng Shi has 5 kids and can barely afford food for herself but she is happy like never before. A-Yao (16) is already considered smart enough to attend advanced math classes in high school. A-Su (15) has won a science competition sponsored by city hall. A-Yang (15) is trying to work on his anger issues with video games, making friends online. A-Qing (14) doesn’t let anyone make fun of her for her dyslexia, asking adults and classmates to take her issue seriously for once. And A-Yu (12) wants to learn how to sign in different languages to maybe travel the world one day.

Meng Shi is very happy indeed.

now, the plot: (tw fake suicide mention; tw use of homophobic slurs)

XY (15) and XXC (17) meet online every night before bed, playing video games together. XY made a mistake first time they chatted, saying he was 17 instead of 15 bc he didn’t want the other to look down on him.

XXC trusts him a little too much and doesn’t question if his new friend is lying to him or not. he’s the funnies person he has ever met, after all.

WWX (20) notices something is wrong by the way XXC starts speaking around others, using inappropriate language when he has never been anything but polite and gentle. even if, technically, XXC is WWX’s uncle, the latter sees the other more like a cousin than anything else given that he’s older. so he takes the matter in his own hands and one day asks him to let him play games with him.

XY doesn’t like his only friend not telling him someone else would have joined their party, and initially he covers XXC in insults and threatens to leave. but then WWX is really good at killing fictional people and XY reconsiders. he makes fun of WWX for being the older one AND the other’s nephew at the same time, but aside from that he doesn’t try to run away like a caged animal anymore.

WWX trust XXC when the younger says XY is 17 like him, but he still supervisions most of their sessions just to be sure XY cannot teach too many horrible things to XXC. WWX wants XXC to make more friends and maybe one day leave the house to attend university if the other will feel inclined to do so, but he doesn’t pressure him.

in the meantime, XY changes counselor at school and it is Song Lan (23) who tries to make a better human out of him. SL is deaf and occasionally uses cochlear implants to hear, but only because his family made the choice for him to have surgery when he was only a child. he can speak if he feels like it at times (not frequently, he’s very adamant about reminding others he doesn’t owe them anything. he’s also trying to make a change at the school where he works by organizing classes on Deaf culture and sign language for the students to take as an elective)

XY already knew of SL thanks to XuanYu, bc A-Yu had seen the counselor at the community center where SiSi usually takes the kids to for sign language classes. counseling at school doesn’t really happen one-on-one, detention kids being too many to follow one at a time and all, but when SL comes by to chat with them he’s always funny as fuck and XY (who will never admit it) feels good about being the only one in class able to understand SL only through sign language.

SL forces himself to talk to the kids and read their lips only bc... well, they’re young and did nothing wrong to him. he occasionally asks XY to help him translate, but aside from that there are really too many kids to look after and he doesn’t treat XY differently from the others, nor he notices him much.

two years pass and XXC (19) announces to XY (17) that wangxian (22) is having their wedding. since XY has learned all about their family, he asks XXC if it’s a common thing to get married super young in their household and XXC laughs... but it’s a sad and brittle thing and XY gets a bit worried.

XXC reveals then that soon after the wedding he will have a surgery to (hopefully) fix his sight and he’s very anxious. he timidly asks XY if he wants to go to the wedding with him, because he would like to see his face at least once before the surgery.

XY panics: he knew XXC’s eyesight was bad, but he never knew to what extent exactly; he’s not really of age yet, so he cannot move on the other side of the country just to attend a wedding; he has never talked specifically about XXC with his family and Meng Shi is working a lot and A-Yu should get his hearing aids soon and A-Qing needs help for her finals and... and...

...and he’s not ready to meet XXC.

XY lied to him and told him they’re the same age. he had never told XXC his name, even if the other had revealed his own, always going by his username jiang_zai. he called him and chatted with him and made fun of his own family and the other had been nothing but kind and amazing and... and... and XY realizes he’s been in love for a while and he abhors the idea to the point where he openly laughs at XXC and calls him a sap.

XXC notices the change in his tone immediately and wonders if he’s overstepped, if he’s asked too much by inviting the other over to celebrate with the rest of the family. XXC apologizes to XY and begs him to not step away like he usually does when he feels cornered.

XY feels absolutely cornered and attacks XXC by asking him why he’s so keen on asking him out (“are you a f*g or something?” etc.). the other doesn’t even know what that means but hearing XY so scared hurts, bc he doesn’t want to make the other uncomfortable in any way.

XXC does like XY romantically, but would never dream to say anything and hinder their friendship. yet, it hurts more to hear his only friend so afraid and angry. he apologizes profusely and promises him not to bring the subject back.

after that, XY doesn’t log in much, avoiding XXC. A-Yao (18) notices he’s sullen and tries to spend more time with him, but the younger doesn’t budge and talks less and less. even SL (25) sees XY less and less, but he doesn’t thinks the younger one is actually skipping classes or anything.

but XY is, in fact, skipping school and Meng Shi covers for him saying he doesn’t feel well enough to go to class. she knows something’s up and she also understands the need to have days off in order to take care of yourself when everything goes to shit.

wangxian wedding happens and XXC is both happy and sad. they made him the official photographer of the day, which is both sweet and incredibly hurtful, because he’s the one taking all those beautiful pictures... and maybe he will never be able to look at them ever again after the surgery. WWX and LWJ already had to organize the wedding earlier than what they originally planned to accommodate XXC and the date of the surgery. XXC feels bad but he’s very happy for them.

YanLing and CanSe worry about him and they ask their mother to help them figure out what’s going on. BaoShan agrees with WWX that XXC had a fight with a friend, alright, but that cannot be all, surely...

it’s the week before XXC’s hospitalization and WWX takes the issue in his hands. logs in pretending to be XXC and plays until he takes XY’s place in the rankings of his and XXC’s favorite game.

XY receives notifications about it and initially fumes at the idea of being outranked, but then he understands what XXC is trying to do and doesn’t know how to react.

he does something horrible instead.

WWX waits to be contacted by this jiang_zai boy who broke XXC’s heart, but when it finally happens... it’s not the familiar, high-pitched voice he expects to hear in the chat. it’s a girl (A-Qing), who tells him her brother had died and that he won’t be playing games anymore. she sounds too serious to be joking and WWX tries to ask more about it... but she just tells him her brother killed himself before ending the call.

WWX doesn’t have the heart to tell this to XXC, not before the surgery and not until he has properly recovered (one year later).

XXC had wondered about XY in silence, not trusting himself to reveal all about his crush to his family, worrying about making the other boy uncomfortable. 

XXC misses XY, but he is patient. he can wait.

A-Qing had agreed to lie for XY only because he lied to her first: he told her a creep on the internet had tried to meet with him and he needed a way out; outraged, A-Qing had helped him without a second thought and answered the chat in his place. 

this spurs her to take more seriously what she and her siblings had been doing on the Internet and reconsiders some of the things she herself posted in the past. she will take this topic so much at heart that she will pursue an academic career to become a social worker.

XXC’s surgery goes well, but he still loses his sight after a while. WWX ends up telling him what happened to his online friend and XXC is so heartbroken he doesn’t even blame WWX for keeping the secret from him for so long. 

after some time BaoShan makes sure he goes to therapy and takes better care of him, helping him figure out what to do. she fears people will look down on XXC and, as a blind person, he will probably be hindered by the system to pursue a career, so she retires from her job at the museum and focuses all of her attention on him.

XXC feels guilty for XY’s passing, but he doesn’t think the other had been triggered to commit suicide bc of him: XXC simply fears XY had hid a different type of sorrow from him; a pain so deep that XXC had failed to see while they were playing silly games. so, three years after the surgery, when he’s 21, he enrolls in uni to study psychology to help kids who are struggling to ask for help.

15 years after XXC and XY had met online:

XY is 30 and a professional carer. he studied to become a nurse, of all things, after what happened. he got a lot of time to think about the horrible thing he had done to XXC and considered helpings others to atone for that.

he is the first to say such a choice was very out of character for him, and even if he has to bite his tongues at times he doesn’t mind his job: it keeps him occupied and exhausts him well enough... but after working in the hospital for 5 or so years he decides to become a carer and trains to help disabled people in particular in his late twenties.

A-Su (30) has become a chemical engineer and married a man working as a lawyer (who happens to be LXC), while A-Yao (31) ends up moving in with his best friend (NMJ). A-Qin (29) doesn’t find romance interesting enough to give up on her career as a social worker, so she doesn’t really move out of Meng Shi’s old flat and everyone is fine with that. A-Yu (27) has graduated from uni and travels the world as an interpreter. Meng Shi and SiSi have lived together since the first has adopted all the kids and they opened a B&B near the seaside. they are wives and very in love.

XY lives with A-Qing in Yunmeng until his late 20s and they fight a lot for stupid things (like when A-Qing makes fun of the boring people her brother hooks up with on the regular, or when XY tries to coerce her to do the fucking laundry by tickling her into a pulp of pain and tears), but otherwise they work well together.

A-Qing is working at the community center as a social worker to help the kids find purpose in life and use the internet safely. she still believes a creep had tried to mess with her brother and doesn’t want anything to happen to the kids under her care. XY knows this, but never got around to tell her the truth, believing it would have been pointless to reveal her how everything she knew had been a lie. even her own purpose on top of that.

A-Su’s husband (LXC) rarely got to speak with XY in person, the latter busy with his job as a nurse most of the time, but during a dinner party LXC has to suddenly leave because of an emergency: his brother-in-law had been brought to the hospital after a car crash and lost the use for both of his legs.

one year later, XY (29) coincidentally becomes WWX’s personal carer and decides to move closer to the man’s house in Yiling since it would be troublesome to help him as efficiently otherwise. XY does not recognize WWX (34) from his voice or name (he did play games with him in the past, sure, but he knew him as XXC’s nephew by the name of Wei WuXian, not Wei Ying, which is the name LWJ uses around him) and helps him around the house and out of it.

WWX’s husband (LWJ) is frequently out of the house to work as a lawyer like his older brother and entrusts WWX to XY, even if begrudgingly so. 

WWX pretends to be fine, but he has a tendency to try to sneak out and walk on crutches without anyone noticing, so LWJ has asked for a carer to come to their house every day. XY doesn’t have to bite his tongue as much around WWX, their interactions easy enough for the both of them to work together despite bickering about the stupidest things.

XY discovers WWX is friends with Wen Qing (37) (the same intern who helped the psychologist take care of XY and A-Qing while they sorted their shit out in the past). 

he meets her and learns from her how WWX’s family had moved in Yiling to help him recover after the crash. her brother Wen Ning is the physiotherapist helping WWX regain control of his legs, but there are basically no chances for him to go back to be a professional athlete even if he were to walk once more.

this new information spurs XY to force WWX to rest more and take his situation more seriously. they work together to find possible solutions and WWX decides that he would much rather have his legs cut off from the knee down that suffer through the pain of having multiple fractures splitting him apart day after day. the surgeons had done their best to save his legs, but the fractures had compromised his nerves maybe forever and the pain is now unbearable.

LWJ trusts his husband but he’s weary at the idea of having him evaluated for amputation. XY refuses to feel responsible for the tension in the house, since this is clearly what WWX wants. XY knows WWX is secretly considering running again on prosthetic legs in the future, but he doesn’t want to anger LWJ more by mentioning it. it’s too soon to know anyway, and who is he to tamper down what little hope WWX has managed to harbor for himself after an entire year drowning in grief?

one year later WWX (35) gets permission from his physician to get prosthetic legs fitted for his needs and he couldn’t be happier. his family visit him more frequently now to congratulate him, even his grandmother who has descended from the mountain where she retired to in order to celebrate him.

XY (30) has already met WWX’s parents and his oldest uncle, but he never suspected them to be related to XXC, because he had never knew them by name. 

yet, one day Song Lan (38) comes in with a huge backpack on his shoulders and recognizes XY immediately. XY doesn’t know why his old counselor is there: he knew WWX’s other uncle was coming over, but he never imagined it was SL they were talking about. 

SL is beaming at him, signing he met XY’s bother A-Yu during one of his travels as a tour guide and that they kept in touch. SL has come to know XY is the reason behind WWX’s recovery and he tells the younger man that everyone in their family is happy XY has appeared in their life.

XY doesn’t have time to answer, overwhelmed with this sense of belonging, this sense of being finally, finally accepted somewhere outside of his own family... that someone else enters the house with a backpack on his shoulders.

XY doesn’t know the man and SL enthusiastically guides him over to meet the newcomer. XY is surprised to hear SL speak out instead of using sign language as the older man asks “A-Chen” to come meet “his nephew’s savior”. based on the pronouns SL has just used, XY recognizes the newcomer to be WWX’s actual uncle and he smiles at the beautiful man in front of him...

...only to be filled with horror the minute the other speaks.

XXC (32) greets XY without knowing who he really is, smiling at him without even recognizing the younger man’s voice. the two of them had never seen each other, playing games only through chats and calls... but XY recognizes XXC immediately, aware that his own voice has changed drastically over the years.

XY is still transfixed and petrified when XXC asks him if it would be okay for him to touch his face to have a better idea of who he’s interacting with. XY doesn’t even register himself voicing his consent when he feels XXC’s hands on his face. only then he understands the infamous surgery had failed and that XXC did not regain his sight after his nephew’s wedding.

overwhelmed with grief, guilt and longing for what never was and never could be, XY is unaware of the tears rolling down his cheeks as XXC gently trails his features. XXC apologizes when he feels his palms dampening and he asks XY if he overstepped. next to them SL is distressed, not understanding what’s happening in front of him.

XY shakes his head and simply says... that he lost someone and that XXC reminded him of that person. then he excuses himself looking for WWX, to ask him to give him something... anything to do. he gets himself a task to accomplish and leaves the house brimming with relatives that he will never be able to call his own.

1 year later:

XXC and SL do not leave the city as they originally planned. they have travelled long enough for the time being and they decide to get a house close to WWX and his husband. they spend the following year after their return looking for stability and peace.

XY (31) didn’t stop working for WWX (36) and doesn’t plan to. not now that he got his new legs finally fitted. the recovery takes long, but it’s already been two years since the amputation now and WWX tries his best every day. he believes to be a handful and doesn’t dare ask for things he needs after receiving the prosthetics. XY is there to loudly remind him to stop being an idiot and that he is paying XY to boss him around however the fuck he wants. LWJ is very grateful to hear WWX laugh more and more these days thanks to XY.

XXC (33), however, is frequently around his nephew’s house, keeping him company. before his three-or-so years of traveling with his boyfriend SL, XXC has briefly worked as a psychologist with Wen Qing, of all people and the two of them have applied for a position at the community center in Yunmeng at the same time. there isn’t one available in Yiling and the commute shouldn’t be too bad. during that first year after his return, XXC has met A-Qing multiple times to inquire for a place at the center in Yunmeng and they are quickly becoming more involved with each other because of their shared passion for the job.

XY feels the end nearing, time ticking away. it had been an agonizing, brilliant, terrible year the one he had spent so close to XXC... and it is now coming to an end. knowing that A-Qing will eventually tell XXC how and why she became a social worker, spilling everything about how “her pitiful bastard of a brother had been molested by a pervert online” and so on. he only hopes A-Qing will never get to meet WWX... she would absolutely recognize the other man’s voice and accuse him of being the pervert in question and XY... XY will die.

XY feels trapped and he will most certainly have a stroke the moment XXC will realize that he lied to him, that he is still alive, that his reason to become a psychologist to help troubled kids was not a real thing... XY will die and Meng Shi will cry.

only because he lied about being 17 when he was 15 one day of 16 years ago.

XY disappears the same night XXC tells him he invited A-Qing over. SL (39) is overjoyed at the idea of meeting the girl once more after the time she and her step-siblings used to go to sign language classes at the community center in Yunmeng. WWX is interested as well, having heard all about A-Qing from XY along the years.

but XY disappears anyway.

2 years later:

it’s XuanYu (30) who finds him, but doesn’t ask him to go back home. A-Yu takes XY (33) with him in his travels for some months to hide him. he doesn’t ask him what he did in those two years, but he does force him to call Meng Shi and SiSi at least.

XY complies but still feels empty inside. the single year he had spent with XXC while the other visited WWX will be permanently engraved in his memories and he cannot stop thinking about it. about how gentle XXC had always been with him, how sad he had looked and sounded reminiscing an “old online friend who had died many years back”, how generous he had always been towards him and everyone and... and XY cannot do this anymore.

A-Yu may be younger than him, but he protects him well for those months... waiting for XY to tell him the truth. so one winters night finally XY does, starting from the beginning.

the following week, close to New Years, XY realizes A-Yu had betrayed him.

someone rings the bell of their shared apartment and A-Yu asks him to go open the door. XY does and it’s A-Qing (32) and WWX (38) who greet him with tears in their eyes. A-Qing tackles him on the ground and tries to hit him they way they used to do as kids, fists getting the point across faster than any word ever could, but WWX pries them apart and hugs them instead.

somehow, XY had not been notified of having acquired a new sibling, but WWX clearly considers him a brother of sorts and he had missed him greatly. A-Qing explains that A-Yu had sent her an email with XY’s version of the truth, sure... but she also tells him that she and WWX had solved the mystery soon after XY’s disappearance already, after talking extensively on the matter.

A-Qing had recognized WWX as the person she had talked to in chat all those years ago, that is true, but she also realized WWX was not, in fact, a bad person and that something didn’t add. when she understood who XY’s online friend actually was... she had felt sick to her stomach for having let someone as kind as XXC presume XY had killed himself bc of him.

hurt and confused, XXC’s family and even A-Qing’s one had initially blamed XY for the pain he had caused, the lot of them filled with anger and grief. especially BaoShan, who had felt guilty for not supervising and protecting her younger son better when he was still too naive to understand the ways of the world.

but then, seeing XY was not coming back, Meng Shi and SiSi insisted for XXC’s family to help them with the search instead. after two years the lot of them missed him. yes, even those who still berated him for his poor choices in life.

XXC now knows the truth and only wants XY to come back home.

some days later:

XXC opens the door after hearing the bell and he knows, he knows who the person in front of him is. he already had his suspicions back when he used to visit WWX every day two years back. WWX’s carer reminded him so much of his friend that... that he may have hoped.

but now XY is back and he has a name and a face and is alive and XXC greets him with a smile as the other hugs him and never lets go.

XY has never been happier in his entire, miserable life.

and XXC will never lose sight of him ever again.

the end.

[now imma go weep for fucking ages. also fuck typos.]

[nayutai]

Afire Love

Word Count: 14.758

Warnings: foul language, alpha jimin, unprotected sex, spanking, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), anal play, female ejaculation, biting, jimin being a love-struck dumbass, arson, minor character death, violence, bad ass bitches getting shit done.....I think that’s it sksksksks

A/N: this is so different from anything I’ve written before so I’m really nervous about posting this. thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy this.

Tears are streaming down Jimin’s face as he and the other alphas crack their sides with laughter at Alpha Seokjin’s latest story. They’re supposed to be discussing the current political unrest in Europe amongst the humans and how they could help their ally packs over there, but somehow, they’ve ended up having story time. Something about French hookers that weren’t actually French and a bucket of fried chicken.

This is a normal occurrence for their annual meetings. There are only seven werewolf packs left in America. The result of mergers and various wars over the past few centuries. To keep the peace, the North American Werewolf Peace Council has been formed. Every year the seven sitting alphas meet up in neutral territory for a summit to hash out any grievances and discuss ways to preserve their way of life. Jimin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jungkook, Seokjin, and Hoseok, the seven current members of the council, have formed a pretty tight knit friendship over the years since they’d become the alphas of their packs so now the annual summits were pretty much glorified benders with a sprinkling of politics for appearance purposes.

Seokjin’s story time finally comes to a close and somehow, they all end up back on the age-old subject of the nickname Taehyung had dreamed up for their merry little group. Bangtan he insisted that they call themselves. The Korean word for bulletproof. It’s quite ironic when you consider that the only proven way to kill a werewolf short of dismemberment is a silver bullet through the heart. The rest of them make sure to tease Taehyung for his peculiar nickname choice and yet it’s been the name of their iMessage group chat for ages.

Jimin opens his mouth to join in on the bangtan slander when his phone buzzes on the table. He flips it over to glance at the screen, smile dropping immediately when he sees his Beta, Jackson’s name on the screen.

“What’s going on?” Jackson, the son of the pack’s previous Beta, was literally born to serve in this role so he knows just as much about running a pack as Jimin does. Taking care of the pack for one weekend is child’s play for him. If he’s calling, then something serious is going on. Jimin’s mind is working a mile a minute as he tries to think of what could possibly be going on. He’s so wrapped up in his own head that he doesn’t even notice the silence that blankets the room.

“Sariah was running patrol and found a rogue. She-” Jimin doesn’t wait for Jackson to finish his sentence. He’s heard all he needs to hear.

“I’m catching the next flight out.” He’s a whirlwind of movement as he quickly dismisses himself from the conference room of the swanky New York City hotel they’ve chosen to hold the summit in this year. Curses spout from his mouth like a waterfall as the elevator takes its sweet time delivering him to the 23rd floor where his room is.

Within three hours, Jimin is 30,000 feet in the air on his way back to Georgia. His knee bounces incessantly to the annoyance of the older woman sitting next to him but he ignores her. His wolf is feeling antsy, like something is about to happen. He’s practically vibrating with energy which is weird to say the least. This isn’t his first time dealing with rogues in the slightest. As a matter of fact, Jimin has built quite the reputation for himself for the swift and brutal hell he personally rains down on any rogue who crosses into territory with malicious intention. He digs his nails into the palm of his hands as he fights to keep his canines from lengthening at the mere thought of it.

His mind drifts back to that one summer afternoon right after he’d graduated high school. He was goofing off with his best friend Jackson and his older brother Matthew at the park when they heard the sudden sound of chaos erupting from somewhere across the pack territory. The three of them had instantly went into attack mode, on the verge of shifting. Jimin had made to go see what was going on as the snarling sounds of war had gotten louder. He was going to be the alpha of this pack one day and he needed to go help his pack. He hadn’t made it five feet towards the mayhem when he found himself being lifted from the ground and tossed into the small storage shed used to store the grounds keeping equipment along with an equally confused Jackson.

“You two stay put. Can’t have you getting yourselves killed trying to be brave.” Nearly eight years had passed since that day and he can still recall that sentence with perfect clarity. He didn’t know it at the time, but those were the last words that Matthew would ever say to him.

According to other members of the pack guard who’d been present, he went down protecting the daycare center. Three rogues had jumped him all at once and while he was able to hold them off long enough for back up to arrive, that backup didn’t get there in time to save Matthew.

Matthew hadn’t been the only casualty of the attack, but his death had sent the pack reeling. As the next wolf in line to be Beta, he’d been a major part of the pack’s operation as he slowly took on more and more duties from he and Jackson’s father. A gaping hole was left behind when he was killed. Jimin couldn’t stand the fact that he hadn’t been there to help his friend when he’d needed him the most.

As alpha, Jimin’s mother had never been particularly lenient with rogue and neither had any of the previous alphas before her. That fateful day erased any leniency she could have ever showed to rogue wolves. When Jimin became alpha, the first male to do so in twelve generations, he followed in his mother’s footsteps. There hadn’t been many rogues to make the mistake of trespassing into Jimin’s territory. Only a handful, but only one of them had lived to tell about it. A young teenager that had run away from an abusive household. As such, rogues learned to give his lands a wide berth when travelling. Coming too close meant certain death at the hands of the alpha.

*   *   *

The wheels of his black SUV have barely stopped turning before Jimin is hopping out of it. Jackson is standing in front of Jimin’s house waiting for him. He falls into step with the alpha as they make their way to the holding cells where rogues and criminals get dumped while awaiting punishment. Jimin’s mother, the former alpha of the pack, had commissioned the construction of the six-cell facility way before Jimin had even been born. Most of the pack member referred to it as “the dungeon” because of the dark, dank atmosphere. Getting dumped in the dungeon was a fate that most people tried to avoid which coincidentally meant that crime wasn’t really a problem amongst the pack members.

Jimin heaves open the heavy oak door of the dungeon as if it weighs nothing. The sun has long set so the only light is being provided by a couple torches affixed to the stone wall in front of the row of cells. Jimin’s wolf howls suddenly in the recesses of his mind. His nose twitching as he picks up on the faint scent of maple syrup and vanilla. He knows it’s not Jackson because he would’ve smelled it when he first got here. The frantic energy he’d felt on the plane increases tenfold as he steps further into the hallway where the smell is stronger. A melodic giggle bounces off the stone walls as he stops in front of the cell housing the pack’s latest prisoner. Jimin’s heart races at the tinkling sound while his stomach threatens to break rank and fall out of his ass. The young alpha had always been pretty smart so he can put two and two together to know that something about this rogue is different than most.

It’s the dead middle of summer in Georgia so the woman, who has yet to raise her head to acknowledge Jimin’s presence, is covered in sweat. Her hair is stringy and dirty. Her bare body covered in the same amount of filth. Jimin eyes the cuffs around her wrists and ankles that are keeping her restrained. The inside of the cuffs are laced with silver, which explains why the minor scrapes and cuts on her body haven’t healed yet. Silver, contrary to popular belief, doesn’t burn the skin while in human form but it does completely block the connection between one’s wolf which in turn makes them unable to take advantage of the rapid healing qualities that come with that connection. He audibly gasps, latching on to the metal bars of the cage in front of him, as he watches his nails lengthen into claws without provocation. It takes every ounce of mental fortitude he possesses to stop the shift so that he can remain in human form.

Jackson is giving them the rundown of everything that’s happened since the caught this rogue sneaking into his territory. Jimin’s attention is focused intently on the woman in front of him so he misses the confused look his beta is giving him. He’d actually forgotten that the other man was even behind him until he starts speaking. They both know that this is turning out greatly unlike any other time a rogue has stepped foot in these lands but only Jackson isn’t privy as to why.

Jimin is mildly irritated that the disrespectful little minx currently chained up in front of him has

yet to look him in the eye. Part of him knows that he doesn’t really need her to. From an early age, he’d been taught how to recognize the signs of a mating bond. Smelling something that reminds you of home in a place you shouldn’t be able to smell it. The sudden, intense urge to shift coupled with an accelerated heart rate. The only sign he hasn’t checked off the list is the most obvious of the bunch. Whenever werewolves make eye contact with their mates for the first time their irises glow a brilliant shade of white as if they’ve been replaced by pieces of the moon itself. Deep down, Jimin knows that the rogue in front of him is his mate. He knows this, but he still needs that last little bit of confirmation.

“Look at me.” He growls out. The three words are dripping with an alpha command. He can tell she’s resisting the urge to obey at the way her body starts shaking. She finally succumbs to the command seconds later.

Jackson whispers a curse, suddenly feeling like he’s intruding when the woman’s eyes begin to glow. Jimin can feel the warmth of his own eyes mimicking hers. A vicious roar vibrates the air in the dungeon as he turns to slam his fist into the unyielding stone wall. Jackson winces at the sickening crunch of the bones in Jimin’s hand breaking. His earlier confusion only grows as Jimin stalks out of the pack prison nursing his injured hand while his mate remains silent.

Jimin’s mind is reeling and so is his gut as he stalks through the pack village on autopilot, letting his instincts guide him wherever they see fit. He drops to his knees just outside of his house as he fights to control the beast that rages within him. The animal side of him is on the verge of revolt at the fact that he left his mate naked and chained to wall in the dungeon without staking his claim. This has to be some sort of sick joke. His mate can’t be a rogue. Bile rises in his throat at the mere thought of what that entails. Ever since Jimin was old enough to understand the concept of mates, he’d looked forward to the day that he could finally meet his. Now he wishes that this day had never come.

*   *   *

“For the love of everything good in this world, stop being such a pussy and go talk to her.” Seokjin is louder than normal as he yells at Jimin over Facetime. He’s so loud that Jimin hastily turns down the volume on his phone to keep the whole world from hearing the older alpha berate him like this.

“She’s a fucking rogue, Jin.” Jimin retorts. “She’s lucky I haven’t killed her yet.” Seokjin rolls his eyes skyward, calling upon the Lord for strength. He’s tempted to shift and run all the way to Brunswick, Georgia where Jimin’s territory is just to beat some sense into the younger alpha.

“This is the last thing I’m going to say about this because you’re working my nerves.” Jin starts, his voice lightly colored with the alpha tone. Jimin wants to protest Jin’s use of his alpha voice on him but he really doesn’t want to deal with more yelling from the other man.

“You are being an absolute dumbass. Yes, what happened to Matthew was terrible, but it has no bearing on the fact that you currently have your own mate locked in some smelly ass dungeon.” Jimin tries to interrupt but Jin talks right over him. “Do you even know why she’s a rogue? I’m willing to bet the answer is no.”

The retort dies on Jimin’s tongue as he takes in Jin’s words. The older man reiterates his previous assertion that Jimin needs to go talk to his mate or at least let her out of the jail cell before he ends the call. His mind is swirling in conflict.

Before he can change his mind, Jimin stands from the couch and walks out his front door. A few pack members try to strike up conversations as he heads towards the dungeon but he politely lets them know that now isn’t a good time. He fears that if his feet stop moving he’ll never go back to talk to her. The closer he gets to the stone structure, the faster his heart beats in his chest. He hates the control she has over him even though the mating process hasn’t been completed.

Jimin is surprised to see that his mate is showered, dressed, and unchained in her cell. Her raven black hair is pulled back from her face in a ponytail fully revealing her striking features. Now that the grime and wounds that had once covered her skin are gone, Jimin can really see just how beautiful she is. Her gaze is steady as she regards him through the bars of her prison. She looks totally at ease with her legs crossed in front of her. Her hands resting in her lap.

“You’re pretty short for an alpha.” Jimin snarls before he can stop himself. He knows that at five foot nine he’s a few inches shorter than the average alpha and it’s always been a sore point for him.

“Don’t test me, rogue.” He spits out through clenched teeth. His mate arches a single brow in response, laughing slightly under her breath.

“My name is Taryn Medí, not rogue,” she starts, lifting one of her hands up with her palm facing the ceiling. “and it’s you who shouldn’t test me.” Jimin’s jaw hits the concrete floor beneath his feet when her hand is suddenly engulfed in flames yet she seems wholly unaffected.

“Sanmana” He whispers out loud as if to confirm it for himself.

The Sanmana wolves are a single bloodline of wolves that can trace their ancestry back to one specific wolf and his fire mage mate. Their ancestors are the only known mating between a wolf and an elemental mage which made them practically royalty centuries ago. Despite continued mating, all descendants of that mating have been born with fire mage abilities and no one is sure why. The physical power of a werewolf combined with the fire bending powers of a mage made them a force to be reckoned with.

A little under a century ago, opinions shifted drastically after a Sanmana wolf killed her ex-boyfriend after being dumped because he’d found his mate. The slighted wolf had gone on an arson spree that devastated the European town she lived in before finally being taken down.

After all that devastation and death, Sanmana wolves were nearly hunted into extinction. Those who weren’t killed went into hiding. No one really knows exactly how many of them are left but Jimin knows there’s at least one more other than his mate. He takes a seat on the stone bench directly across from her cell to try and process everything he’s just learned.

He meets her eyes again to find her already staring at him. He thinks that he sees hope within the depths of her irises but if it was there it’s gone the second he stands up and takes a few steps towards the main door. Jimin fully intends to walk outside and never come back but something stops him. It dawns on him that Taryn has quite literally put her life in his hands by exposing her true nature to him. Jimin could out her and, for lack of a better term, toss her to the wolves without anyone guilting him about it. Silences stretches between them for what feels like eternity as he weighs his options. He takes another step towards the door, mind made up to leave, when he remembers Jin’s question.

“Why did you go rogue?” Jimin asks abruptly, breaking the silence. Taryn can sense that this is her one chance to change Jimin’s mind. It’s now or never.

“It was either go rogue or die.” She answers as she fiddles with a loose thread on the sweatpants she’s been given. “My mom was human and she got kidnapped by some wolves from an enemy pack and my dad used his abilities to get her back. They were both killed for it. I would’ve been killed too but the guard they sent to kill me couldn’t do it and told me to run so I did. I was six.”

“So, you’ve been a rogue all this time?” Jimin’s eyes nearly bug out at the thought of being alone that long. She looks somewhere around his age give or take a few years which puts her in her early to mid-twenties. That’s a hell of a long time to be alone.

Wolves are not solitary animals by nature and as shifters that same need for a pack is translated over to their human sides as well. The longer someone goes without a pack to call their own the worse their mental health gets until their certifiably insane. It’s what makes rogues so dangerous. The morals and ethics that come with being human are eroded away until they function solely on primal instincts.

“Oh God no. I’m originally from Canada about twenty miles or so from the American border so I immigrated if you will.” She explains. “I joined Alpha Curtis’ pack in North Dakota and it was fine up until a couple years when his son took over. He didn’t like the fact that I didn’t want to have sex with him so I shot him for trying to force my hand in the matter. He lived unfortunately.”

A sudden and vicious wave of anger crashes over Jimin as he thinks of some other man not only touching his mate but touching her against his will. He has half a mind to seek out the now dethroned alpha just to teach him a lesson on keeping his hands to himself. Jimin makes a mental note to call Yoongi and find out what became of the piece of shit that touched his mate when he took over their pack. He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself, taking a long look at the mate that fate had decided to give him.

“Do you promise not to burn the village down?” He asks.

“I resent the fact that you think I would, but yes, I promise not to burn the village down.” Taryn squeals with ill-suppressed joy when Jimin produces a set of keys from his back pocket. Being in the hell hole they call a holding cell has started to take a toll on her sanity. She hasn’t properly seen the sun since she was tossed in there.

The second she’s outside, Taryn takes a deep breath, head tilted skyward as she allows herself the time to bask in the sunlight. Jimin swears he’s never seen something more ethereal. She seems to practically glow in the light, the sun’s rays soaking into her brown skin in a way he’s never seen before.

“My house is this way.” She follows dutifully. Taryn’s eyes are everywhere as she takes in the sights and smells of her new home. It’s quaint. Just like the small towns you see in all the movies. Rows of mom and pop shops, a bakery, and a park where kids are playing under the watchful eye of their parents.

Their hands brush occasionally as she falls into step next to him. With every brush of his skin against hers, Jimin has to fight the urge to bend her over right where they stand. It’s downright unnatural the way they’re just casually not ripping each other’s clothes off as most wolves complete the mating bond as soon as they first met.

The pack members milling about openly stare at her slight frame, not bothering to hide their disgust at the rogue walking next to their beloved alpha. Jimin has to force himself not to lash out when she pulls her hair out of the ponytail, using it as a shield to hide behind. Her shoulders are slumped as she attempts to make herself as small as possible.

He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but Jimin grabs her hand in his. A barely audible gasp escapes her lips as he slots his fingers into the spaces between her own. She’s probably feeling the same rush of hormones that he is. That primal instinct to claim her nearly overwhelming him. He tightens his grip when she immediately tries to pull away. The fear and apprehension is radiating off of her as she pulls more of her hair into her face but she ceases her attempts to escape his grip.

The nosy pack members let their curiosity get the best of them as they follow Jimin and Taryn to their destination. Werewolves already have a higher heart rate than humans but for a second Jimin is worried that Taryn’s heart might actually beat out of her chest at any moment. The muscle is hammering away almost like a hummingbird behind her rib cage as the few people following them becomes a small crowd.

Jimin turns to face his people once he reaches his front porch. He clears his throat to address them and the murmuring among them ceases. He surveys them shrewdly as they wait anxiously for his announcement.

“This rogue is my mate. A formal announcement will be made at the next pack meeting in three days’ time.” Shocked exclamations ripple through the gathering of people as Jimin ushers Taryn through his front door.

“Does this mean you’re not rejecting me?” Gone is the cocky she-wolf that had challenged him with her words and feisty attitude. Once again, that same innocently hopeful expression is written all over her face. The difference between the two nearly gives him whiplash.

“Wouldn’t it be foolish to reject the only mate I have in this world?” A small smile creeps up on his face. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll see about finding you some more clothes.”

*   *   *

The three days leading up to the pack meeting are awkward to say the least. Taryn ventures out exactly one time and quickly finds out that the pack members aren’t too fond of her. The only people other than Jimin that seem to tolerate her is Mrs. Katrina Tran, the woman who has put herself in charge of making sure that Jimin doesn’t starve to death or accidentally burn his house down trying to cook, and her four-year old son Kevin.

Katrina takes Taryn under her wing, teaching her different recipes and just being a source of friendly conversation in general. She looks forwards to her visits every day. Playing cops and robbers with Kevin, who’s probably the happiest child she’s ever encountered, is the highlight of her afternoons.

It’s the day of the pack meeting and Taryn has been on edge all day. Chasing down the tiny culprit who’s just robbed a bank aka the candy bowl on Jimin’s coffee table is the only thing that’s been able to keep her mind off what’s going to happen in a matter of hours. Kevin giggles loudly as Taryn “apprehends” him, swinging him up into her arms. She spins around a few times as he squeals in childish delight. She can hear Katrina laughing along from where she stands in the kitchen but when a deeper, more masculine laugh joins hers, Taryn freezes. She looks to her left to see Jimin leaning back against the front door. He’s been so busy doing whatever it is that alpha’s do that they haven’t really seen that much of each other.

“More, Ryn!” Kevin demands as he twists around in her arms. Katrina, reading the room, swoops in to take her son from Taryn. She cajoles him with the promise of cookies as they disappear out of the back door.

“Uhm, hi, Jimin.” Taryn wants to smack herself for sounding so shy. That’s not her at all but something about Jimin’s energy makes her feel vulnerable. It’s like he can see through whatever façade she puts up to see the real her and it’s unnerving to say the least.

“Hi, Taryn.” Jimin’s voice is gravelly as if he’s been chewing on the tiny rocks in his driveway as he returns her greeting. The low timbre of it sends a shiver down her spine. She anxiously rubs at her arms in an attempt to rid herself of the goosebumps that have appeared on her skin.

The man in front of her slowly puts one foot in front of the other until he’s standing toe to toe with her. She can’t help but to take a deep breath in. He smells like the pine forest that surrounded her old pack after a fresh rain with a hint of citrus. It was always her favorite scent. Whenever she was stressed or feeling overwhelmed, she would shift and just sit in the forest, breathing in the smell of trees around her. It never failed to calm her nerves and smelling Jimin right now seemed to be having the same effect. She could feel her trepidation about the impending pack meeting melt away the longer he stood before her.

One look into Jimin’s eyes though and she can tell that he’s not in control right now. His irises that are normally a rich and beautiful brown have darkened to a dangerous obsidian ringed in gold. A sure sign that, for whatever reason, his wolf has taken charge. The sheer amount of power radiating off of him is close to suffocating Taryn as she fights against the urge to submit to the alpha, her alpha. Her panties are soaked through at the thought of what the man in front of her could do to her body if she let him. She’s sure that he can smell her at this point so it’s truly impressive that he hasn’t lunged at her yet.

“What’s your favorite food?” Taryn blurts out before she doesn’t something drastic like give into the sexual desires threatening to swallow her whole. Jimin arches one perfectly arched eyebrow at her strange question. “I just realized that I don’t know anything about you other than your name and that you’re the alpha.”

The darkness in his eyes slowly bleeds away and Taryn can finally start to breathe normally again. Jimin nods his head in acquiescence, thinking the question over carefully before answering. “Peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwiches. My mom always made them for me when I was a kid.”

He playfully nudges at her shoulder. Shockwaves of arousal ricochet through her being at his touch but she steels her resolve. “So, what’s your favorite food?” He asks, turning her question back on her. She doesn’t even have to think about the answer as it flies off her tongue.

“Belgian waffles.” She smiles softly at memories from her childhood. She would always demand Belgian waffles every morning to the point that her parents actually started calling her Waffle. It was an embarrassing nickname but now that her parents are gone she’d give anything to hear it again.

“Duly noted now come on we have a meeting to get to.” Jimin grabs her hand and butterflies erupt in Taryn’s gut as she lets Jimin lead her out of the door to wherever pack meetings are held around here.

*   *   *

“Have you mated her yet? Inquiring minds would like to know.” Jimin’s eyes rolls skyward. He almost regrets calling his younger brother Jaehyun. All he wants to know is how much longer until his baby niece arrives but instead he gets the fifth degree. He probably should’ve expected it though.

“Dear God, you’re worse than mom.” Jaehyun only laughs. Now that she no longer has alpha duties to attend to, their mother has been not so patiently waiting for her two sons to give her grandchildren to spoil.

Up until a year ago, neither Jimin nor Jaehyun had been mated but that all changed when Jaehyun had gone on a mission trip to Germany where he ended up meeting his mate Rosaline, the rising alpha of the pack who had offered to house Jaehyun’s mission group. Now they’re married and expecting their first child together. Jimin was only too happy to drop his parents off at the airport after Jaehyun had called to inform them of Rosaline’s pregnancy.

“At least I waited till she left the house to call so you could avoid all her questions. You should be thanking me.”

“Oh, wow my savior. How can I ever repay you?” Jimin asks sarcastically. His eyes linger on the picture of him with his family that he keeps on his desk. He misses his parents and brother but he’s a little glad that they’re on the other side of the Atlantic right now because they’re a lot easier to ignore when their questions start to overwhelm him.

His phone call with his brother doesn’t last much longer as they both have important obligations that they need to get back to. His eyes are drawn back to the family photo. If his mother was here right now, he knows that she’d probably be beating him on the back of the head every day for being a dumbass. Jimin had told his parents about Taryn out of a sense of obligation the day she officially joined the pack and to say he regretted it would be an understatement. His mother constantly pestered him for details about her new “daughter-in-law”. She’d been pissed off to say the least when she’d stopped talking long enough to notice the absence of a mark on Jimin’s neck.

He’d intended to keep his reasons for the lack of a mark to himself but his mother had seen right through his lies. Eventually, Jimin broke down and told her the truth. The whole truth. She was shocked to learn that not only are the Sanmana wolves not extinct but her precious new “daughter-in-law” is also a descendent of the fiery hybrid mating from long ago. She’d been wary at first but she firmly believes in the entire concept of mates and therefore doesn’t understand why Jimin has been holding back. He keeps trying to explain his position to her but no matter what Jimin says his mother still holds firm to her conviction. Taryn is the only mate he’s going to get.

“Jimin, I hear your frustrations and your feelings are valid, but baby you can’t let these what-ifs keep you from your one chance at true love.” His mother’s soothing voice plays in his head like a broken record. She’s right. He knows it and she knows that she knows it too. So why can’t his brain stop disagreeing with his heart?

*   *   *

If someone didn’t know that Jimin and Taryn were mates, they’d probably think that they were just roommates with lots of sexual tension that no one had acted on yet. They still sleep in separate rooms and don’t see each other a lot since they’re both so busy with their respective pack duties. Their spoken communication has dwindled down to nearly nothing but they always manage to communicate in other little ways.

The first week after Taryn joins the pack s hellacious to say the least with Jimin dealing with all of the new construction and disagreements and new pack members that occur in those seven days. It reaches the point that Taryn notices that he’s nearly stopped eating as the plates of food that Katrina leaves for him go untouched.

A quick glance at the sleek iPhone Jimin had purchased for her a couple days ago, tells her that it’s just shy of seven in the evening. If Jimin keeps to the same pattern he’s been following, then he’ll be back home at around 7:30 to shut himself up in his office to do paperwork for the rest of the night. Taryn grabs the bread and a plate and sets about to make him something that she knows he won’t be able to refuse.

It’s 7:32 when the sound of the front door slamming shut reaches Taryn’s ears as she’s tossing her towel in the dryer to warm it up before her shower. She hates cold towels. Another minute goes by and the phone in her back pocket vibrates twice with a text message. She smiles to herself when she opens the message after seeing it’s from Jimin. It’s a picture of the peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwich she’d left on his desk. The two words under the picture expressing his gratitude get tossed to the side as her eyes hone in on the emoji next to them. To anyone else, the kissing emoji isn’t much, but to Taryn it holds weight as this is the closest she’s come so far to getting a kiss from Jimin and dear God does she want to kiss him. His sinfully full lips haunt her every dream but for whatever reason Jimin hasn’t made a single move and part of her doubts that he ever will.

A few days go by and it’s become a habit for Taryn to make Jimin a sandwich and leave it in his office for him. Jimin actually starts to looks forward to going home to the stack of work he has to do. He feels guilty that she goes out of her way to make his favorite sandwich for him while all he offers in return is a thank you text with a stupid emoji.

His ears perk up at the sound of the dryer beeping down the hall. He gets up to peek out of his office door, catching sight of Taryn folding a single towel as she walks away from him towards the stairs. He’d always thought she was just obsessive about doing her laundry, but now that he really thinks about it, he’s never the sound of the washing machine. Only the dryer. He’s even more confused now. Jimin’s brow furrows when he hears the shower in her bathroom turn on. The wheels in his brain are turning at lightning speed as he tries to put two and two together. He smiles to himself as he returns to his desk to make a quick phone call.

Taryn stumbles into her bathroom the next morning with her eyes half closed and her hair going in every direction from all her tossing and turning. She stretches her arms overhead which causes her nightshirt to rise dangerously high up her bare thighs. She’s so out of it that she doesn’t notice the extra presence in her bathroom until she’s already seated on the toilet.

“I’d say this is definitely bringing us closer.” Jimin says on a laugh as Taryn’s eyes fly open with a shriek. He eyes her bare legs lustfully, taking note at the fact that the newly awakened woman in front of him makes no move to try and cover herself after realizing its him in the bathroom in her.

“What are you doing in here?” She asks as she flushes the toilet and walking towards the sink that Jimin is currently leaning against, drill in hand. Part of her hopes that his reason for being in here is romantic in nature even though the power tool he’s holding pretty much tells her it’s not. A girl can still hope though.

His eyes follow every movement of her full hips when she turns to walk back into her room. Jimin’s cock stirs to life at the thought of how good it would feel to give into his desires and finally claim her. The tips of his fingers brush her forearm as he reaches out to do just that when a single word rushes to the forefront of his mind as it often does when he’s close to caving into the mating pull.

Sanmana.

He snatches his hand back like he’s been scalded. Taryn turn to look at him with a raised, questioning eyebrow but he smoothly plays it off as if there was a piece of piece of string on her arm. They both know there wasn’t but she doesn’t press the matter which he’s thankful for.

Jimin clears his throat as he tries to reign in his impure thoughts, following her back into her bedroom. “To answer your question, I was installing a towel warmer.”

Taryn pokes her head out of her walk-in closet that she’d disappeared into with an intrigued look on her face. Jimin explains how he’s noticed that she’s been putting her towels in the dryer for exactly eight minutes every day before her shower and that he wanted to do something nice for her since she’d been making him his favorite sandwich every day. He almost misses the way her smile drops a millimeter at his explanation. He kicks himself for being such a selfish overthinker because he knows that’s what it boils down to at the end of the day but he can’t help himself.

What if someone were to find out what she is? Riots would ensue as people actively seek to see her beautiful light snuffed out. The discomfort he feels of being so near his mate but not being one with her is nothing compared to the absolute torture he’d go through if she was to be brutally ripped away from him like that after completing the bond. What if they had kids? He can’t even bear the thought of someone threatening his child because of what they are. It makes him physically sick to even ponder it. Keeping Taryn at an arm’s length is a necessary evil that he can’t seem to find a solution for. Well, a necessary evil that he’s scared to execute the solution for seeing as how the issue really lies in Jimin’s own selfish fears. He’s scared and he doesn’t know how to stop being scared. As an alpha, it invokes a healthy amount of self-hatred as he was raised to be the source of people’s fear not the frightened pup he’s been dissolving into.

Jimin opens his mouth to respond when a siren blares out, stealing his thunder. Taryn is in awe of him as she witnesses the visible change in his demeanor. In the space of a few seconds, the alpha wolf that resides within him has completely taken over. The word “rogues” is spat out like a curse as he spins on his heel, practically yanking the bedroom door off of its hinges in his haste to leave. Taryn quickly shoves her arms through the sleeves of some random sweatshirt and hops into a pair of leggings before she too is running towards the exit.

The front door of the house hadn’t been as lucky as her bedroom door. The matte black door has been ripped halfway off of its hinges and the knob is nowhere to be found. Taryn quickly forgets the door as she steps out onto the front porch to see madness unfolding all around her. The siren from before still sounds loud and clear above the swell of screams and snarls. She can’t see any rogues from the front porch but the smell of wolves that don’t belong permeates the air around her. She knows that as Luna it’s her responsibility to do something but she’s frozen. Totally overwhelmed by the sheer amount of chaos. She spots Katrina as she dashes down the sidewalk that passes directly in front of Jimin’s house. The older woman is cradling a screaming Kevin to her chest as she desperately tries to escape whatever’s behind her.

Taryn leaps into action when she realizes that that something is a large, silver wolf. Ever since joining the pack, she’s been able to recognize the wolves that belong to her new clan, even the one’s she’s never seen in wolf form before. It’s like a sixth sense that tells her who belongs and who doesn’t. The rogue female bearing down on her friend definitely doesn’t belong.

With a vicious snarl of her own, Taryn leaps off of the porch and shifts mid-air. Her shredded clothing rains down around her as she collides with the trespasser with a sickening crunch of bone beneath her paws. The other wolf is dazed, clearly not expecting to be blindsided like that. Taryn makes quick work of her by sinking her teeth so far into the other wolf’s neck that she scratches her spine. Blood drips from her lips as she sets off in the same direction Katrina had been running.

The cement is no match for Taryn’s claws as she skids to a stop in front of the small primary school. Anger bubbles up within her when she notices the three rogue wolves attempting to breach the building. Her very being is practically vibrating from the growls erupting from her chest. The outsiders share a look amongst each other before apparently deciding that they like the odds of tussling with one wolf.

Taryn readies herself for a fight when a loud burst of thunder interrupts her concentration. The sun is high in the sky with not a cloud in sight so where did that come from. She doesn’t have to wait long for her answer. As she breathes in the air around her, she notices a drastic shift in the scent. That familiar forest smell overtakes her which can only mean one thing. Jimin. Taryn bares her teeth in a wolfy smile at the fear that comes over the rogues in front of her at the sight of her mate coming to a stop by her side.

It vaguely dawns on Taryn that this is the first time she’s seen her mate like this. She’s fascinated to say the least. Jimin’s shorter than average height would lead many to believe that his wolf form is smaller than normal as well. That couldn’t be further from the truth. The midnight black wolf next to her is easily twice her size and Taryn knows that she’s above average size for a female wolf. She finds herself mesmerized by the way his muscular frame moves. It’s almost graceful which is a bit weird considering just how big he is.

A snort brings her back to the situation at hand. Jimin nods his large head towards the rogues who still seem shell-shocked at the size of the wolf before them. Taryn bobs her head once and the two of them leap forward to handle business. Taryn’s jaws are seconds from tearing out the jugular of the third and final rogue when Jimin knocks her down. Still in combat mode, Taryn quickly twists around to regain her footing and snaps at the alpha wolf before her brain can catch up to let her know how horrible that idea is. Her eyes go wide as she realizes her mistake a half second too late.

Jimin is on her faster than she can blink. Taryn isn’t scared by many things but a clearly pissed off alpha standing over her, snapping his teeth just a little too close to her neck has her on the verge of wetting herself. Mate be damned. She bares her neck to him in submission hoping that it placates him. Thankfully, Jimin accepts her surrender and backs away from her, shifting back into his human form. Taryn follows suit after she shakes some of the dirt from her body.

Unlike the humans, werewolves see nudity as a natural part of life. It not unusual for pack members to shift in front of each other and let it all hang out. However, this is the first time Taryn has ever seen Jimin like this and to say the sight of him is making her blood run hot would be an understatement. His physique is muscular with thighs that look strong enough to crack walnuts. She can tell that he spends a lot of time working out. Saliva begins to pool in her mouth when she focuses in on the piece of meat between his taut thighs. In short, he looks like he was crafted out of pure sin and desire.

Jimin is all business as he starts barking orders at Jackson and a few other high ranking members of the guard that Taryn hadn’t even noticed before now. The injured rogue is quickly dragged away and their dead friends are quickly dragged away to god only knows where. Taryn isn’t entirely sure what to do now. She’d halfway expected for Jimin to order her to do something as well. She shifts from foot to foot, arms awkwardly crossed over her bare chest.

“Is there anything you want me to do?” Jimin looks her up and down. The heat in his eyes and the way he pulls his plush bottom lip between his teeth tells her that what he wants her to do is not something that should go down in front of a building full of scared children and their mothers. Taryn opens her mouth to say just that when she’s interrupted a small shout, quickly followed by pattering feet.

“Ryn!” Kevin wraps his small body around her left leg like a tiny koala. Her heart constricts at the trembles still racking his tiny frame when she lifts him into her arms. His mother is telling Jimin something but her eyes dart over to Taryn every few seconds as if to make sure her son is still where she last saw him.

“You’re okay now, buddy. Ryn won’t let anything happen to you.”

*   *   *

Nearly a week has passed since rogues attacked the pack with absolutely no progress at figuring out why. The one wolf that had been spared isn’t talking and it doesn’t appear that that’s going to change any time soon. Taryn offers to heat things up a little to persuade the bastard into giving up some information but Jimin shuts that down immediately. Jimin assigns Taryn a security guard because, apparently, he actually believes that she would go behind his back to talk to the hostage anyway. He’s right but that doesn’t make her feel any differently about her glorified babysitter.

Taryn and Sariah, her new guard and also the one who had caught her trespassing into pack territory, are currently sat at the kitchen table giving each other death glares as Taryn eats a bowl of cereal. The pack as a whole has finally started to warm up to Taryn ever since she fought off the rogues that had attacked but Sariah was not convinced. She hates Taryn and still thinks that she isn’t to be trusted. Sariah doesn’t care who knows her feelings about the new Luna either and makes sure that her suspicions are known to anyone who will listen. Taryn didn’t exactly blame Sariah for being wary of her. Katrina had given her the rundown not too long after she’d moved in with Jimin. Sariah and Jackson are cousins, hence the former’s position in the pack guard. The story of the rogue attack that had resulted in the death of Jackson’s older brother Matthew explained why Sariah probably couldn’t stand her. Jackson doesn’t go out of his way to taunt and provoke Taryn like Sariah does but Taryn isn’t blind. She can see the wariness in the beta’s eyes the few times she’s been in his presence

Needless to say, Sariah and Taryn are not getting along which is exactly why Jimin picked Sariah to keep his mate out of trouble. He figured that Sariah’s distrust would mean that she wouldn’t let Taryn out of her sight but also that spending so much time together would make Sariah realize that his mate wasn’t all bad. So far, he’s only been correct about the first part but it’s only been two days.

Jimin comes jogging down the stairs, freshly showered, and stops short at the entrance to the kitchen. The two she wolves don’t even acknowledge his presence as they continue to stare holes through each other. If looks could kill they’d both be corpses right now.

“Good-” Jimin’s greeting is cut short when Taryn lifts her eyes to his face. The sheer amount of anger swirling in her gaze nearly knocks Jimin on his ass.

“Don’t you fucking speak in my presence unless it’s to say that I’m free of her.” Taryn spits out. A growl vibrates the air around them but it doesn’t come from Jimin. Surprisingly, Sariah is the one vocalizing her frustrations.

“Show some respect to the alpha.” She demands of her charge despite the fact that Taryn outranks her. Sariah has the edge of the heavy oak table in a death grip, nails leaving half-moon marks in the finish as she tries to restrain herself from leaping across the table. Jimin notices a small spark in Taryn’s eyes that gives him pause. He needs to put a stop to this before it gets even more out of hand.

“Fuck you and fuck him too.” Jimin doesn’t take too kindly to the disrespect. If it was anyone else, he would make them pay for such a comment, but even his wolf can sense that Taryn is a literal firecracker on the verge of exploding if he doesn’t tread lightly. The last thing he needs is for her to lose her cool and do something they’ll both regret. He’s starting to think that his goals behind picking Sariah to guard Taryn isn’t worth this headache. He instantly tries to jump in to play peacemaker but he’s not quick enough.

Sariah launches herself at Taryn faster than Jimin can blink. Taryn, however, was ready for her, smashing her would be attacker in the face with her glass bowl of cereal. The glass shatters against Sariah’s forehead and leaves her dazed as she rolls from the table to the floor, cradling her head. Taryn stands from the table and looks Jimin square in the eye as she walks around Sariah’s writhing figure. She aggressively shoulders past him on her way to the stairs.

Jimin is conflicted on what to do. Does he stay in the kitchen to help Sariah or does he go upstairs to talk to his mate? His heart doesn’t seem to be having the same dilemma as he feels the pull to follow behind Taryn. He worries his bottom lip as he stands in the kitchen like a deer in headlights trying to figure out what to do. He takes a step backwards towards the stairs when there’s a barrage of frantic banging on the front door.

The petty situation between Sariah and Taryn is tossed to the backburner as his keen senses pick up on Jackson’s scent. It’s got a coppery edge to it that’s normally not there as if the beta is doused in blood. The new door protests when Jimin flings it open to see Jackson liberally coated in blood and visibly upset. Jimin quickly ushers him inside 

Sariah is picking herself up from the linoleum when Jimin leads Jackson to the kitchen table to sit down before his trembling legs give out on him. He pours him a glass of ice water but he doesn’t touch it or even acknowledge that it’s there when Jimin sets it in front of him before taking a seat to his right. Jackson’s gaze is unfocused. Nearly all light drained from his eyes as he tells Jimin what he discovered this morning.

Jackson is unmated and totally devoted to the pack. As such, he often times forgets to stop and eat just like Jimin does so Katrina had taken it upon herself to make sure that he stayed fed as well since his own parents spent most of their time travelling these days. Every morning at 7 o’clock, Jackson would be knocking on the door of the Tran residence for breakfast or risk incurring the infamous wrath of Mrs. Katrina Tran for not taking care of himself.

This morning when he stepped up to the door, it had been ajar. David, Katrina’s husband, is a stickler for security so there’s no way that he accidentally left the door open like this. Jackson cautiously pushes the door open to see the house is still cloaked in darkness. That’s red flag number two. Breakfast is served at 7:15am sharp in the Tran residence so the small brick house should be completely lit up and humming with activity and the sound of Kevin’s toys by now.

“Katrina? David?” He calls out but there’s no answer. He takes a deep breath and that’s when he smells it. The air reeks of rogue wolf and the foul stench of death.

A knot forms in his throat as he slowly climbs the stairs near the door. He’s terrified of what could possibly await him. The entire upstairs part of the house looks like a war zone. The floor is littered with glass from broken picture frames and dirt from Katrina’s prized potted plants. Jackson can smell coppery scent of blood more strongly now and he resigns himself to the fact that his friends are most likely no longer with them. A choked sob slips out of his mouth but he fights off his emotions. He can’t afford to break down just yet.

He finds David first. The hulking man is a bloody mess outside his son’s bedroom door. The gaping hole in his chest suggests that his heart has quite literally been ripped out of him. There are deep gouge marks covering most of his skin. It’s all he can do to choke back the bile rising in his throat. Jackson has never been particularly religious but he finds himself making a cross across his body before reaching down to carefully close his friend’s unseeing eyes. He finds Katrina sprawled across her son’s racecar bed with a hole in her chest that matches her husband. Her fingers are twisted up as if she had been desperately clinging to something when she was killed.

Jackson is relieved to not see Kevin’s body next to his mother, but where is he? No space in the house goes unchecked as Jackson does his best to find the four year old. Kevin is nowhere to be found. Jackson doesn’t know whether to be relieved or sick. His friends are dead but their son could still be alive and he clings to that possibility as he runs through town to get to Jimin’s house.

Jimin curses when Jackson finishes his story, shooting out of his chair. Sariah is quietly sobbing at the loss of two dear friends and pack members. All of the commotion sends Taryn flying back downstairs demanding to know what’s going on. Jimin’s throat feels like it’s going to close up as his emotions begin to get the best of him. Taryn doesn’t think twice as she pulls Jimin into her smaller frame. She still isn’t sure what’s going on but she knows it can’t be good for him to be showing this kind of emotion. Jimin’s broad shoulders shake from the sobs racking his body. Taryn looks to her left to see Jackson in a similar position with Sariah. She reaches out to rub the beta’s back soothingly. She pats Sariah’s hand awkwardly. The other she-wolf surprises her when she latches on to Taryn’s hand, taking advantage of the gesture.

It’s a few minutes until Jimin pulls himself together enough to tell Taryn what’s happened. She desperately wishes that the ground would open up and swallow her whole in that moment. Katrina Tran was the only real friend that Taryn had in the pack and now she’s gone. She’d never met her husband David but her heart hurts for him too. Most of all, she aches for Kevin. At only four years old, he is now alone in this world and Taryn knows the pain of having your parents violently ripped from you all too well. The thought of Kevin being out there in the woods somewhere scared and alone makes Taryn physically ill as she runs to the kitchen sink losing the contents of her stomach.

Taryn is glued to Jimin’s side as he calls an emergency pack meeting to announce what has happened. There isn’t a dry eye in the room when everyone learns of the tragic loss. Katrina and David were kind souls that impacted everyone they encountered. For them to be targeted like this in what appeared to be another random rogue attack doesn’t make sense. Taryn has been perplexed by it all day. Why the Tran family? Her mind goes back to the way that rogue had been chasing down Katrina. She’d originally thought that she’d been a target of opportunity but what if she wasn’t?

Jimin is busy consoling people when Taryn makes herself scarce. She has a plan but she knows that Jimin would never approve of what she intends to do which is exactly why she has to do it now. She suppresses a groan when Sariah calls out her name behind her.

“And where do you think you’re going?” The wary guard asks, arms crossed across her chest as she approaches Taryn.

“Going to get some answers.” Taryn knows that Sariah is either going to tag along or alert Jimin. It’s not ideal given what she’s got planned but it’s better than her mate locking her in her room like a hostage to keep her from doing it.

Sariah stares through Taryn for what seems like an eternity before motion towards the door and following into step next to her. The pack guard is confused when she realizes that Taryn is headed for the dungeon at the edge of town but she says nothing.

“Listen,” Taryn starts, pausing at the entrance to the pack prison. Her eyes are trained straight ahead but she knows Sariah well enough to be able to interpret the other woman’s silence as her giving Taryn her attention. “I know you don’t like me and frankly I don’t like you that much either but just know that everything I’m about to do is to get justice for the Trans.” Taryn finally turns to look over her shoulder at her companion.

“I’m sure you know the story behind how my cousin Matthew was killed so naturally I don’t trust rogues which means I don’t trust you. However, I’m willing to look past that for the sake of getting revenge for my friends.” Sariah’s jaw is set in determination. Eyes flashing gold as she fights to retain control over her wolf. She nods once. Fists opening and closing as she follows Taryn into the dungeon.

The door slams shut behind them. Dust particles dance through the rays of light streaming through the air ventilation slats near the ceiling. The sole occupant of the stone structure looks up from where he sits in a corner of his cell. One of his eyes is swollen shut and the other doesn’t look like it’s far from it. His cuffed hands lay limply at this sides. He’s been worked over pretty good and yet he still grins wickedly at the two women before him.

“I’m ready for my sponge bath, nurse.” He cackles wildly before leaning over to spit some blood out of his mouth. Sariah wrinkles her nose in distaste when a tooth comes flying out of his mouth.

Taryn reaches into her bra for the key she’d swiped from Jimin’s key ring while he was in the shower last night. She’d never been more thankful for his forgetfulness than she had been in that moment because the key she needed had been helpfully label with the word dungeon. She swings the cell door open wide, moving to crouch down in front of her prey.

“I know you know something, fucker. This is your last chance to tell me before you lose your tongue.” Taryn snarled through gritted teeth. She could feel her body temperature rising but the fool in front of her is too arrogant to even realize the grave danger he’s in. He laughs in her face. A full-fledged belly laugh.

“I told that pup you call an alpha that holding here wouldn’t go over well.” The straggly asshole taunted. Sariah, not one to let people disrespect her leader, immediately steps forward with a growl. Taryn stops her in her tracks with a raised hand and a whispered command to stop. Surprising even herself.

“Things are about to change for us werewolves, sweet cheeks. Just you wait.” Taryn’s eyebrows raise in question. It occurs to her that the rogue’s own arrogance is about to be his own downfall. He’s so sure that the two women in front of him can’t do anything to him that he’s becoming a wealth of information.

“Is that so? I love change.” Taryn says, drawing the idiot before her deeper into her trap. Sariah finally seems to catch on to the game plan as the near constant growls that had been bubbling out of her throat dwindle down to nothing.

“Packs are about to be a thing of the past. Wolves can live amongst each other without this stupid hierarchy. Hell, we’ve been living right under your noses to the east and you fuckers haven’t even noticed.” The rogue announces proudly. It’s not until he takes notice of the evil smile that spreads across Taryn’s face that he realizes that he may have said too much.

“Thank you so much for that information.” Taryn begins. She delicately lays a hand on the rogue’s bare and battered chest directly over his now racing heart. “When you get where you’re going, make sure you tell everyone that David, Katrina, and Kevin Tran are the reason you’re there.”

The rancid smell of burning flesh permeates the air as Taryn’s forearm erupts in white-hot hellfire. Her fist slowly sinks into the rogue’s chest cavity like a warm knife in butter. Sariah, having gotten over the initial shock of what’s happening in front of her, leaps forward to pin the man’s flailing limbs to the stone floor as best as she can. His pained shrieks are like music to Taryn’s ears as she purposefully moves slowly to maximize his pain. Her fist eventually closes around his heart. The muscle shrivels in her fiery grasp as she crushes it. Tears flow freely down Taryn’s face as she thinks about everything she’s lost in her life. Her parents. Katrina. Kevin. She’s reached her limit with loss and it’s time someone pays for it.

Taryn yanks her arm from the rogue’s chest cavity with a shout belying the emotional anguish flowing through her. Her body temperature begins to regulate itself as her arm returns to normal. She backs away from the smoking carcass until her back hits stone. Sariah rises to her feet, dusting herself off. She approaches Taryn slowly like the other woman could burst into flames at any second if she moves too quickly.

“You’re Sanmana?” Sariah questions just to hear the words for herself. Taryn nods slowly with a soft yes.

Sariah had always thought that wolves like Taryn were urban legend having never personally seen one. Despite not having met a Sanmana, she knew that pissing them off is something one should steer clear of to avoid ending up as a pile of ashes. Yet, Sariah has to admit that she’s never seen Taryn use her abilities against the pack for the entire she’s been here and Sariah herself knows that she’s pushed the new Luna further than anyone.

“So, what do we do now?” The guard ponders out loud. Taryn wipes furiously at her face, trying to pull herself together.

“Now, we go to war.” She declares. She gives the slain one rogue one final look of disdain before turning on her heel to exist the dungeon.

Taryn reaches her hand out to let her hand pass through the flames of the lit torches along the wall as she makes her way towards the door. Fire had always been a source of strength and comfort for her. Not surprising given her lineage. Now, more than ever before, she seeks out that strength as she prepares herself for what she’s about to do. She’d promised Jimin when he’d first allowed her stay that there would be no village burning but that’s looking more and more like a promise she won’t be keeping.

*  *   *

Taryn and Sariah crouch behind a thick section of brush to survey the rogue encampment about two hundred feet in front of them. It’s a few small cabins that look like they could each house about four to five wolves comfortably. They’re all built around a clearing where there are some tents situated around a fire pit. The prisoner Taryn had killed wasn’t lying when he said that he wasn’t alone.

There are at least 15 wolves working to construct a large barn-like structure. The two she-wolves wrinkle their noses at nearly the same time as they’re assaulted by a barrage of different scents. Hardly any of the rogues smell the same. All of the wolves in an established pack smell slightly different but everyone has one underlying note in their scent that is the same from wolf to wolf. That doesn’t appear to be the case here and yet everyone seems to be friendly with each other as if they are a family. Taryn lets her eyes drift shut to enhance her focus as she desperately tries to sniff for that light citrusy smell that is indicative of her own pack.

She nearly sobs with glee when she finally picks up on the smell she was looking for. It’s fain and nearly totally overwhelmed by all of the other smells in the area, but it’s there. Kevin is here somewhere. Sariah noses at the clothes tied around Taryn’s ankle to indicate that they should shift back to human. That’s exactly what they’ve done when the smell of fresh rain and oranges washes over Taryn.

Jimin.

The alpha wolf emerges from behind a tree absolutely bristling with anger. He shifts back as well when he notices that Taryn and Sariah are both in human form. Taryn allows herself to be dragged by the wrist deeper into the forest to prevent giving their position away.

“Explain yourselves. Now.” Jimin demands when he feels they’re far enough away. Sariah and Taryn share a glance before looking back to Jimin, staying silent. “One of you better start talking right now so help me God.”

Taryn narrows her eyes in anger at Jimin’s use of the alpha command. Sariah, unable to resist, immediately tells everything she knows. Jimin’s eyes remain focused in on his mate as his trusted guard spills her guts on the forest floor. Taryn avoids eye contact and instead watches Jimin’s chest and ears grow a furious red with every new detail that he learns.

“Taryn, are you fucking stupid?” Jimin is starting shake from the strength of his anger. “You could’ve gotten you and Sariah killed.”

Taryn can’t help but roll her eyes. She’s had more than enough of Jimin treating her like some errant child he was put in charge of. “Why the fuck do you even care? We might be mates but I know damn well you don’t love me so why does it matter if I die trying to avenge the one friend I had?”

“I’m just gonna go stand over-…yeah bye.” Sariah quickly makes herself scarce so as not to intrude on what is obviously a private moment.

“Why would you say that?” Jimin’s question comes out in a strained whisper. His heart feels like it’s cracking in advance of the rejection he feels is sure to come.

“Because it’s true. You tolerate me out of some weird obligation but you don’t love me and if I was stronger I would reject you right now just so you can go be free but no. I’m stuck on the possibility that maybe one day you could-” Taryn’s angry tirade is cut short by Jimin’s lips covering hers in a kiss that’s borderline brutal.

She freezes from the shock. Jimin slowly walks her backwards until her back rests against a nearby tree. He groans deep in his throat when Taryn finally starts to respond to him. His hands are everywhere, indecisive about what part of her he wants to touch first. Tentatively her hands come up to encircle Jimin’s neck as she pulls him in even closer. Her lungs are burning from lack of oxygen but she doesn’t care. She’ll gladly die if it means this moment doesn’t have to end.

A whimper falls from her lips when Jimin pulls away from her. She becomes aware of the tears that she hadn’t even realized were falling when Jimin gently wipes her damp cheeks. His own eyes are watering but his own pride refuses to let them fall.

“I do love you, Taryn.” Jimin whispers against her forehead after planting a soft kiss against her pretty brown skin. “I was scared. I still am. There are people out there that think you shouldn’t be allowed to exist and I’m not sure I’d be able to handle it if someone tried to take you away from me. What if we have kids? Would people come after them too? I don’t know what I-”

Taryn shuts him up just as he done to her minutes earlier. This time though the kiss is slower as she caresses his pillow soft lips with her own.

“Is this really what’s been bothering you this whole time?” Taryn questions with a soft tone as Jimin shyly avoids her gaze. He nods once in affirmation to her query, hiding his face in the crook of her neck out of embarrassment. She reaches up to run her fingers through the silky strands of black hair that cover his head.

“I was so scared when I went to the dungeon to ask the rogue more questions and found him still smoking.” Jimin mumbles against her skin. She shivers every time his lips graze the sensitive skin of her neck. “I figured you might’ve tried to run away which is how I picked up your scent in the woods.”

“I’m glad you came after me but right now we need to save, Kevin.” Jimin forces himself to release his hold on Taryn but the second he does he instantly misses the warmth of her body against his. Jimin takes Taryn’s spot leaning against the tree and waits for her to return with Sariah. Together the three of them form a quick plan of attack then set off to put it into action.

*   *   *

Taryn’s heart is racing a mile a minute as she waits up on a hill for the party to get started. From her vantage point, she has a clear view of the rogue encampment. Her fingers sink into the soil in anticipation. It’s not much longer before she hears that familiar thunderous roar as Jimin leaps into the clearing. Chaos ensues immediately as the rogues hurriedly shift to defend themselves. Seconds later Sariah bursts onto the scene from the opposite direction. Wolves that they hadn’t seen previously emerge from the tents and cabins. Taryn watches carefully for any sign of Kevin. Just when she’s about to give up and shift to join her mate and Sariah in the fray, a slim redhead emerges from a tent with an unconscious Kevin cradled in her arms. The woman looks around before running in the opposite direction of all the fighting, right towards Taryn’s hiding place.

The fleeing she-wolf stops in her tracks when she spots Taryn. Her face is twisted up in an ugly smile that makes her look more like a demon than a woman. The vibrant curls framing her face look like the flames that Taryn is itching to invoke. She laughs mirthlessly as Taryn slowly advances on her.

“Take one more step and I’ll kill him.” It’s Taryn’s turn to freeze as she watches the woman’s nail lengthen into claws.

“I saw you that day when you assholes took my mate from me.” The bitch drags one of her claws down Kevin’s angelic face, drawing blood. Taryn’s muscles burn with the effort it takes to keep from launching herself at the woman in front of her. “I knew that I would need a bargaining chip to get him back so I took the chance that this little boy matters. Looks like I was right.”

The woman looks deranged. Something in her eyes is off and not in a good way. She looks like she’s lost all access to her sense of morality. Kevin stirs in her arms, distracting her and Taryn takes her chance.

Taryn knows that some Sanmana wolves have been known to throw fire. Her own father had been able to do it but hadn’t gotten around to teaching his daughter before being killed and despite years of trying to teach herself, Taryn’s never been able to do it. In that moment, though, she can almost hear her father in her ear, instructing her, guiding her. Kevin’s captor looks back up in time to get a face full of flames as Taryn blasts her with everything she’s got. The redhead drops Kevin with a shriek. Taryn moves quickly to get the small boy out of harm’s way before ripping the woman’s heart out of her chest and crushing it just as she’d done with her mate.

Kevin is pressed protectively to her chest as Taryn runs full speed towards the encampment. Jimin and Sariah are both fierce warriors in terms of combat so she expected them to be able to hold their own while she was saving Kevin. The two wolves have been backed up against the side of a cabin and the eight or so wolves that are left are attacking them from every available angle. Blood is flowing profusely from a deep wound on Jimin’s side and Taryn knows it’s only a matter of time before her mate and Sariah are taken down. She’s finally gotten the man picked by fate as her other half to admit his feelings for her and there’s no way in hell she’s losing him like she’s lost everyone else in her life.

Once again, Taryn sets Kevin on the ground out of harm’s way behind a large boulder. When she straightens flames lick at her skin as she feels a warm wave of heat wash over. A vicious war cry escapes her lips as she runs towards the group of wolves. The stench of burning fur and flesh blends in the with pained lupine yelps as burst of flames fly from Taryn’s finger tips. They try to escape but it’s futile as she reaches out to them with her newfound ability.

Jimin collapses as his shaky legs can no longer hold him up. One of the rogues had gotten a lucky shot in and opened up a large gash along his torso. It hurts like hell but watching the human flame that is his mate dole out her own brand of punishment makes the pain bearable. He panics when his vision starts fading but despite his best efforts his eye lids shut.

*   *   *

Jimin awakes with a start, wincing from the sharp sting in his side. He relaxes some when he realizes that he’s in his own bed. He has no idea how he got here but he can worry about that later. The angry gash in his side has already closed up but the jagged mark still hurts like a bitch. He sucks in a deep breath as the wound protests his movement when he heaves himself out of bed. The sound of Taryn singing to herself as she moves around downstairs makes his heart flutter in his chest.

He props himself up against the refrigerator. He can’t help but grin as he watches his mate twirl around the kitchen as she makes a sandwich. She’s in her pajamas singing along to whatever song is playing through your headphones. She’s yet to acknowledge his presence and Jimin is thankful for that. He doesn’t get to see her like this. Carefree and vulnerable.

“Hello, Jimin.” Taryn interrupts his sappy thoughts with a greeting though she’s yet to actually look at him. She pulls one of her headphones out of her ear, letting it dangle as she chops up a banana.

“How did you even know I was here?” He ponders out loud.

“I can smell you.” Taryn explains as she finishes up the sandwich she was making and slides it across the island that separates the two of them. “You’re probably starving. You’ve been knocked out for nearly 24 hours.” As if on cue, Jimin’s stomach rumbles loudly.

“Looks good, but what if I told you I wasn’t hungry for food?” Jimin reaches across the counter to lightly run a finger down the back of Taryn’s hand. He doesn’t miss the shiver that races through her at his touch.

“I’d tell you that you need to relax and let that ugly ass wound heal.” Taryn pulls her hand away from Jimin but he’s not letting her get away that easy. He makes his way around the island, backing her up into a corner until he’s got her caged in.

Taryn can’t find it in her to be embarrassed when Jimin nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. The feeling of his soft lips against her skin is unbelievable. She smooths her hands down his bare torso until she reaches the waistband of his grey sweatpants, using the elastic to pull him in closer. The action triggers a groan deep in Jimin’s throat. His hands glide down her back, pausing to squeeze the plump globe of her ass, before moving further to lift her up by the backs of her thighs. A gasp falls from Taryn’s lips at being lifted in the air.

She wraps her arms and legs around him. Jimin revels in the feel of his lips against hers as he carries her upstairs to his room. Well, their room now. He carefully lays her out across his mattress. He does his best not to crush her but Taryn yanks him down so that the length of his body is pressed against her. She wastes no time reconnecting her lips with his as Jimin’s hands greedily roam the landscape of her curvy figure. Taryn’s always been aware that she carried a few extra pounds on her frame but Jimin looks like he wants to devour her which makes her beam with joy. Jimin makes quick work of her clothes until she’s totally bare beneath him.

“Fuck I’m an idiot.” He mumbles out around the hardened nipple he’s sucked into his mouth.

“You’re my idiot so I guess I’m okay with it.” Taryn replies breathily. Her words end in a moan when the vibrations from Jimin’s subsequent laughter send shockwaves of pleasure through her body.

Her breath hitches when Jimin kisses his way further down her body. He presses soft kisses to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. When he flattens his tongue against her, licking a broad strip up the length of her wet core, Taryn nearly forgets her own name. She grips the sheets in her fists as Jimin continues his assault by flicking his tongue over her clit. He sucks the taut bud into his mouth at the same time as he sinks two fingers inside her. Stars dance behind her eyelids when he flicks them upwards in a come hither motion, finding that special spot with expert accuracy.

She’s running head first into an orgasm when Jimin pulls away. He grabs one of the extra pillows in his bed and slides it underneath her hips. Taryn is confused but she trusts Jimin so she goes along with it. The mischievous grin on his face gives her pause but the way he proceeds to eating her out like his last meal sends her cares flying out the window. She latches on to his hair as she does her best not to suffocate him with her thighs.

“Wait, Jimin stop. I have to pee.” She whimpers out but Jimin keeps right on going as if he hasn’t heard her at all.

The pressure in her abdomen rises just as fast as her distress levels. Jimin refuses to budge from his place between her legs. If anything, he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of her with more ferocity than before. She chants his name but she’s not sure if it’s to get him to stop or for him to give her more. She’s lost in a sea of pleasure and the waves are threatening to take her under. With one final plea for mercy, she falls apart.

Black spots cloud her vision. Her back arches obscenely. Tears leak from her eyes at the force of it all. Her orgasm washes over in powerful waves that seemingly have no end. She can vaguely feel Jimin’s finger plunging in and out of her at a slower rate to prolong her climax. It seems like an eternity has gone by before she comes down from her high.

Jimin’s face is practically dripping with her release when he frees himself from the stronghold her thighs had on his head. She’s never squirted before but one look at him and she knows that’s exactly what she’s done. Taryn averts her gaze out of embarrassment, suddenly feeling shy.

“Hey look at me.” Jimin calls softly from his spot between her outstretched legs. He waits patiently for her to obey before he continues. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed. Don’t be embarrassed.” She nods her head in understanding but she’s not totally convinced.

A fresh gush of arousal leaks out of her when Jimin pops each of his fingers in his mouth to suck them clean. He moans as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Taryn’s tongue slides out to wet her bottom lip at the sight. It’s then she notices that Jimin is still in his sweatpants which are tented around the sizable erection that they’re struggling to contain. That’ll never do. She happens to know that he has on nothing but those sweatpants considering that she’s the one that put them on him in the first place.

Jimin is still on his knees between her legs so she sits up so that she’s eye level with his chest. His head falls back when she flicks her tongue against one of his nipples. He sighs with relief when she slowly pulls his sweatpants down past his ass, freeing him. He lifts each knee so she can help him push them down further until he’s able to kick off completely. Jimin is excited to feel his mate’s full lips sliding up and down his cock but the second she wraps her slender fingers he knows that can’t happen. He won’t last more than a minute if she sucks him off and his refraction time has always been shit.

“I need to be inside you right now. Please.” Jimin pleads. His heart nearly stops beating in his chest when Taryn pretends to ponder the idea.

Jimin’s mouth waters with delight when she rolls over on her stomach, poking her pretty, little ass up in the air like a good bitch. He’s on her in an instant. His hands reach around to palm her full breasts, rolling both of her nipples between his fingers. The moans and whimpers falling from her lips could rival a choir of angels in Jimin’s opinion.

He pushes one of her ass cheeks to the side to give himself a clear view of her glistening entrance. She begs him to stop being such an awful tease as he slides the head of his cock through her slick folds, bumping her clit on each pass. Jimin slowly pushes forward until each inch is surrounded by her tight sheath. Both of them sigh in relief at finally being joined.

“So big.” Taryn groans as she pushes her backside firmly against Jimin’s torso in an effort to get even closer to him.

Jimin pulls his hips back only to thrust back in roughly. He does that a few more times before letting loose. His hands have a death grip on her hips as he plows into her from behind. The sound of his hips smacking into her ass can probably be heard miles away. He can feel that familiar tightening in his balls so he slows his pace. He moves his hands from Taryn’s hips to her ass. Jimin is mesmerized by the way it jiggles when he gives it an experimental smack. The loud moan that reverberates around the room indicates that Taryn is most definitely on board but another thought comes to his mind.

He continues to thrust shallowly as he spreads her ass cheeks apart once more. The puckered hole of her back entrance teases him. Almost as if it’s calling his name. Taryn shivers when lets a string of saliva fall onto the tight ring of muscle. He picks up his pace again, slamming into her, but this time he massages his thumb against her other entrance. Curses fall from his lips when she tightens her inner muscles around him like a vice at the unfamiliar, yet pleasurable, sensation.

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum.” She wails.

Jimin pulls out of her and flips her onto her back before plunging back inside. She’s knows what’s on the horizon as she can feel her canines start to lengthen just like his appear to be. He slides his hand down her sweaty torso to rub figure eights in her engorged clit. It’s like he’s flipped the switch on her orgasm as she starts to convulse around him. Jimin surges forward and sinks his teeth into her skin right at the junction of her neck and shoulder. He licks at the mark to collect the few drops of blood that seep from her skin. Half a dozen strokes later and Jimin meets his own end. His chest vibrates with a possessive growl at the feeling of Taryn marking his skin. His chest feels like it’s going to burst with the feelings that he has for her. Jimin is sure that she’s never looked more beautiful than she does right now in this moment. Sweaty. Tired. His. He was a fool for waiting so long to take this step but he knows he’ll never be that dumb again. Taryn is his just as he is hers. Sanmana gene be damned.

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

Star Wars Episode IX predictions

It’s going to be fine.  Not great, not shitty, just fine. A passable movie.  It’s going to make a lot of people happy, and a lot of people really pissed off.  If you love it, then you’re some Disney shill who likes being force fed the same schlop over and over again; if you hate it, then you’re just a hipster who thinks they’re too cool for Disney movies and likes to be contrarian. It will be neither “the best one since Empire” nor “the worst one since Clones,” though people will argue both of these points.  The only valid opinion that everyone will be able to agree on is that it is not terrible.  That’s a low bar.

The characters you want to get together, won’t. [correct]  A glorified extra whose name has never been said on screen will have a big moment, probably sacrificing themselves for the greater good; my money’s on Snap Wexley or Carrie Fisher’s daughter. [partially correct; Snap dies]  There will be one (1) confirmed LGBT character, probably a faceless alien who we’ve never seen before; it won’t be any of the main three because Disney doesn’t want to piss off China. [correct]  Remember Lefou, or that support group guy from Endgame?  That’s the best Disney will do, if we’re lucky.

Princess Leia will feel tacked on because she literally couldn’t be written into the story; they have to stitch together extra material from Force Awakens, so all her scenes will be insubstantial, just as a way of paying tribute to her. [I’d say correct, but it’s subjective] They honestly should have just killed her off in The Last Jedi, but that wouldn’t have gone over well with fans because then all three of the original protagonists would be dead.

Speaking of, Luke isn’t “dead.”  We’re supposed to believe he’s a force ghost, but I won’t rule out him being just regular flesh-and-blood Luke, like his disappearance was just a fake out. [wrong]

Finn and Rose will probably get together, rather than Finn and Rey, because Average Joe Midwesterner, who makes up a plurality of ticket sales, wouldn’t want to see the movie if a black man got with a white woman, but he doesn’t really care if a black man gets with an Asian woman. [wrong]  Disney will hedge their bets.  Rey will have no love interest because Disney is on a weird anti-romance kick; apparently you can’t be a #StrongFemaleProtagonist if you fall in love [correct] (Rey/Finn is my OTP, but I know it’ll never happen, so I’ll die mad about it; fight me)

The title should have been “Rise of the Skywalker” instead of “The Rise of Skywalker,” because I have a feeling Skywalker is going to become the New Jedi title.  Instead of knights and masters, they’ll be Skywalkers (those who “walk the skies,” figuratively, like astral projection, “planes walking”). [wrong] The point is, Rey isn’t secretly a Skywalker. [mostly correct] If there is a literal bloodline Skywalker who rises it will be Kylo Ren even though he’s a Solo, and Leia has never been called Skywalker on screen (she’s always been Organa). [correct]

I really hope Disney doesn’t go for the “both sides” moderate centrist mentality, but I wouldn’t put it past them; Jedi and Sith are like Yin and Yang, they need to be balanced, neutral, gray.  Yawn. [wrong; good guys are good, bad guys are bad]

It will make two or three billion dollars, [too soon to tell, 12/24/19] biggest opening weekend ever, [wrong] all sorts of box office records, [appears to be wrong] it’ll be in theaters until March, then it will go straight to Disney+ instead of DVD.  The Disney+ version will have deleted scenes and extra subplots, so you’ll need to pay to see it again to get the full story.  Certified Fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, though the audience score will be drastically lower (50s or 60s). [WRONG: this is the most shocking part for me, it’s the exact opposite, critics were divided but audiences loved it]

Disney will say they have no immediate plans for Episode X, XI, and XII, but we all know that’s a lie.  They’ll keep churning them out for decades; general audiences haven’t reached Marvel Fatigue yet, so they are certainly nowhere near Star War Fatigue.  But I am.  I’m burned out.  I no longer enjoy this franchise.  A few years ago I thought maybe it was the old adage, “too much of a good thing,” but it is by no means a good thing, not anymore.  Now it’s more like “too much of things, just things in general.”

Oversaturation.

I know how the sausage is made, I know how Disney the entity runs its business, how it tries to maximize profits by minimizing contention.  This will be a middle-of-the-road film that gets people in seats but will be ultimately forgettable.  I will not be seeing it in theaters, I will wait until a friend buys or streams it so I can mooch off of them and not have to give Disney any more of my money.

My personal score will probably be a 3 or a 4 [correct]

General consensus will be 6-ish [wrong; 8 to 9]

Critics will love it, giving it a 9 or a perfect 10 [wrong; 5 to 6]

Post Script: Now that Disney owns 20th Century Fox, they should use the fanfare at the beginning.  They won’t, but it’d be nice. Pointless, but nice. [they didn’t]

Post Post Script: Take it away, Jay Sherman