#was immediately sent back to my pony video days

[plugdrawsstuff]

So that Adam face reveal huh

[yikesharringrove]

Show Pony

Chapter 2: Legends Never Die

Read on Ao3

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Billy was watching porn when Steve texted.

He’s never clicked out of a video so fucking fast in his life.

The message just read hey, this is steve :) which like, of course, the fucker uses little emoticons. Of course , he types out little smiley faces. It’s so dumb. It’s so cute.

And Billy just stared at it. One hand still on his dick, the other hovering over the keyboard.

What the fuck does he reply?

Obviously, Steve knows it’s Billy. Like. Duh.

So he just tapped out a little Hey.

Steve texted back almost immediately.

you have a good day? Billy found himself grinning maniacally, so he rolled over to hold his pillow close to his chest, burying his chin into it. He didn’t wanna deal with the fact that this stupid adorable cowboy was making him smile and flush. Stupid.

Yeah, it was nice. Way too hot, but nice.

lol try wearing jeans in that heat. sweatin through my damn saddle. Billy laughed into his pillow.

Jesus, you’re such a fuckin hick. Billy bit his tongue when he pressed send.

And Steve just sent back >:(. And God. He’s so cute. Billy. Hates him.

And then Billy’s phone buzzed twice, another brand new text from Steve.

One that made Billy’s heart fucking stop.

i have the day off tomorrow. no tiedown on the schedule. you should come by and we could hang

Which sounded like. A date. It sounded like a fucking date. And Billy wanted to ask. If Steve’s invitation was for a goddamn date.

But like, he can’t just ask. Can he? Is that weird? Okay, maybe he’ll just-

Should I bring Max?

Right? Like if Steve says to bring his little sister, then there’s no way it’s a date. Because, who would want their date to bring their little sister? People who are just hanging out as friends, that’s who.

was hoping it'd just be you and me

And hoo boy. Hoo boy. That’s. That’s a fucking. That’s a date.

Then yeah. Just you and me.

And Steve sent him another little :) because the fucker loves his emoticon smiley faces. They’re not even, like, actual emojis. Steve doesn’t take the time to use fucking apostrophes, but he does type out little faces.

And maybe Billy’s spending too much time thinking about the smiley little shits.

But, like. It’s just. It’s Steve. And it’s a cute fucking thing that Steve does.

Billy’s pretty much obsessed with him by now.

And maybe Billy should ask for, like, a time to meet. But he was halfway through a video and his cock’s still hard and kinda starting to ache, pressed against the mattress where it was. He rolled over, slid his hand back into his shorts, and wrapped his fingers around the base of himself.

So it’s easy just to, slide it up. Run his fingers along his length. Pretend his rough hand is Steve’s rough hand. Pretend the tight vice grip is Steve’s mouth. Hot and slick around him.

He could picture Steve, on his knees in the dirt, those tight fucking jeans beginning to stain at the knees, those big pretty eyes looking at him so reverently, so softly.

And he came all over his hand, pictured those pink pretty lips covered with cum. Imagined scooping it on his fingers, pressing them into Steve’s mouth, making him lick them clean.

It wasn’t even the most depraved fantasy Billy’s ever had. But it was for sure in his top five best orgasms. No doubt about it.

He wiped his hand on the sheets, turning onto his side, staring at the short little conversation with Steve.

Thinking about their fucking date tomorrow.

Max was on his ass the second he woke up.

She cornered him as he was coming out of the bathroom, making him startle and nearly smack her.

“The fuck you doing out here, Shitbrid?”

“What are we doing today?”

“ We aren’t doing shit all. I will be heading out. Soon.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, jutting her jaw in a way he absolutely knows she learned from him.

“Are you going to the rodeo?” she hissed through her teeth at him. “Are you going to see-”

“That’s none ‘a your fuckin’ business.” He pushed past her, lumbering down the hall, almost making it into his bedroom before she slipped inside with him, slapping his elbow and kicking the door closed.

“Are you going on a date ?”

Billy glared at her. He clenched his jaw, speaking through gritted teeth.

“Pretty sure we agreed not to fucking talk about this shit here.”

She pursed her lips, shifting her jaw.

“Just nod or shake your head.”

Billy kept his head very still.

She kicked him once in the shin before stomping out of his room, nearly slamming the door, catching it at the last minute, and closing it quietly.

Neil didn’t approve of doors slamming in his house.

It was rule number. Three probably. First rule was don’t be a smartass. Second rule was don’t be Billy. That was kind of an unspoken rule. But it was there.

And Billy was faced with his newest dilemma.

What does he wear?

Because it’s gonna be another hot fucking day, and his typical date outfits have more, more.

He’s got one clean pair of cut-offs left. Okay. Yes. And he puts on a printed button-up shirt. Leaves it almost all the way unbuttoned, because, like, of course, he does. He’s got a good body. He wants Steve to see it.

He’ll be mostly cool, and he looks better than he did last time he saw Steve.

Black Converse complete the look, and he maybe spends more time than he usually would putting his hair into a ponytail, using one of Max’s bright scrunchies.

She’ll get pissed if she notices it but. Whatever. He steals them from her all the fucking time.

He hasn’t looked at his phone all morning, figured he could head over to the rodeo, and whenever Steve texted, he’d play it cool and act like he wasn’t already there.

But, cowboy hick Steve was obviously an early riser. As the most recent text Billy has is from that cowboy hick Steve. At six. In the morning.

you wanna meet up around ten?

It was currently just past nine.

Does Billy head up there now and wander around the grounds for a bit?

Yes. Yes, he does. Because frankly, he looks gay as fuck in this outfit and he should probably dip before his dad sees.

He sends Steve a thumbs up and the three dots show up almost immediately, showing Steve typing.

you got a car right? can you pick me up outside of the parking lot? i gotta get outta here

And Fuck. Billy knows that feeling.

No problem. You wanna get breakfast? I know a good diner if you’re into that kinda thing.

hell yeah im into that :)

Ah, yes. There was that little happy face just in time to give Billy lots of nice heart palpitations.

Great. That’s what he needs. To get sappy and gross over Steve’s emoticons. Again.

He slipped out of his house without interference, taking a lap around the block just to kill time before setting off to the fairgrounds.

He was trying to make his car look presentable, shoving the few gum wrappers Max left by the gear shift into his pocket, brushing off any stray cigarette ash with one of the baby wipes in the glove box.

And by the time he reached the fairgrounds, he saw Steve skulking along the front of the parking lot, hopping over cracks in the sidewalk like the cutest little bunny.

It was the most adorable thing in the fucking world.

Billy pulled up next to him, blaring the horn and watching Steve startle at the sound.

He was wearing cut-off denim shorts like Billy’s, and a goddamn crop top. It had the silhouette of a horse on its hind legs, its mane flowing in the wind behind it, and Harrington American Rodeo brandished across his chest. It was cut just at his waistline, where his body nipped in right above his hips.

Steve smiled his pretty smile at Billy, just about skipping around the front of the car to slide into the passenger seat.

And Billy tried not to think about how fucking good Steve looked in the passenger seat of his car, those long fucking legs all on display, his thighs, thick and pale, covered in dark hair.

“Hi,” Steve was leaning with one elbow on the center console, putting himself in Billy’s space, and Billy was thankful for his dark aviator sunglasses, as his eyes went wide and probably panicked with Steve moving in so close.

Because if Steve was leaning in to kiss him, that kinda feels like a lot. And Billy’s not a prude, not by any means but he's, he’s got lines, and rules, and-

Steve just knocked his head into Billy’s shoulder, leaning back to buckle his seatbelt, like headbutting Billy’s shoulder was casual and normal.

And fuck.

Billy’s in so deep for this guy he barely fucking knows.

All he could do was push the car forward, and will away the flush on his cheeks. And pretend like he hadn’t jerked off to the person sitting next to him less than twelve hours ago.

“So. Billy. Tell me about yourself.” Steve shifted in his seat, turning to look right at Billy. “All I know is that you’ve got a kid sister, a cool car, and that you’re really hot.”

Billy smirked, turning to look at Steve over his glasses, found Steve biting his bottom lip demurely.

“Well, there’s not much else to know .”

“Oh, come on. Where are you from? How old are you? Shit, probably shoulda asked that sooner. Please, tell me you’re not fifteen or something.”

“I’m literally driving, right now. And relax, Pretty Boy. I’m eighteen next month.”

“Okay. Okay, good. I’m eighteen, by the way. Just so you know, that I’m not fifteen.” Billy shook his head, rolling his eyes with a smile. “But I still want answers to the other questions.”

“Well, I’m from here. Born and raised in San Diego. Uh, I graduated high school in May. And I work at the diner I’m about to take you to, which might be the lamest shit in the world, but they have good pancakes.”

“I like pancakes.” Steve was fiddling with some of the knobs in the car, turning the air conditioner up and down. Billy was just resisting slapping his hand away.

And then he reached for the volume knob on the radio, turning up the Ratt Billy had playing, and audibly scoffed.

“God, I should’ve known you liked this .”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Just, you know. Sex charged drug-fueled hair metal.”

“Oh my God. What in the fuck ?” He gave Steve as incredulous a look as he could muster. “Are you a housewife from the fifties?”

Steve gave one of his excellent bright laughs at Billy, and Billy’s gut got a little bit gay and a little bit fluttery.

“Alright, Stevie. I’ll bite. What kinda music are you into? And if you say country I’m blowing my fuckin’ brains out.”

“Well, unfortunate then because, yeah. Fuckin’ country, man. Although, I prefer folk.”

“See, you call my music sex-charged and drug-fueled, at least I’m not listening to posers rant about their tractors.”

“Oh, no. I hate that shit as much as you do. I mean like, Johnny Cash. Willie Nelson, you know? Emmylou Harris, Marty Robbins, Miss Dolly. The good stuff. There’s like, a few modern artists that are doing the same kinda thing that I like. It’s all just stories and good music.”

“That’s all my music is. Stories set to music. And, you say my shit is drug-fueled, you do know that Willie Nelson is famous for being a stoner? And that Johnny Cash publicly dealt with addiction and all that?”

“Well, yeah, but they’ve got class.”

“Okay, Cowboy. I’ll let you die on that fuckin’ hill while I party it up on mine to some eighties metal.”

And Steve reached out to shove Billy lightly, laughing while he did it.

“Agree to fucking disagree then. Just take me to pancakes and don’t try to reason with me about shitty music.”

“Then change the subject. Tell me other things about you besides your terrible music taste.”

Steve leaned back in his seat, blowing out a puff of air.

“Uh, I mean. Jeez. I don’t do much besides the rodeo, you know? Just movin’ all over the country.”

“That must be. Exhausting.”

Steve reached out to brush his fingers against the dashboard mindlessly.

“It’s not so bad. I try to make friends in the towns, you know? Makes it kinda fun.”

“Where were you born?”

“Indiana. Really small town. My mom and I stayed there for three years while my father traveled around. I’ve been on the road since.”

“Holy shit. Since you were three? Did you, like, go to school?”

“No. Uh, I actually have a tutor that’s on the road with us, and I’m. You know. Supposed to get my high school diploma soon. I’m behind schedule since,” he waved his hand flippantly. He was staring at his lap, playing with the frayed hem of his shorts. And Billy was grasping for another subject as Steve’s cheeks went red. Because obviously school, had struck a nerve.

“What kinda horse is June?”

“She’s an American quarter horse. That’s the usual type for most rodeo events. They’re good ranch horses because they’re a little more compact. I’ve been with June for five years now, and she’s a beast. I’ve got two others with me, on rotation so that none of them get too tired doing the shows over and over. June, Patsy, and Loretta. They’re all quarter horses, and each one is only about fourteen and a half hands tall. I like my horses a bit smaller for tie-down.”

“I understood, honestly, like, nothing of what you just said.”

Steve tossed his head back, laughing loudly over the radio at Billy’s confusion.

He laughed a lot.

Billy liked it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you rodeo slang. You’ll be a natural,” Steve said, reaching out to where Billy’s right hand was resting on the gearshift, wrapping his finger’s around Billy’s wrist.

“What about their names?”

“All ladies of country. Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, and June Carter. Carter-Cash, I guess. She married Johnny but had a career in her own right.”

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ hick.”

“You’ve said that before. Just because I’m in the rodeo-”

“No, it’s because you’re in the rodeo, and listen to country music, and wear fucking cowboy boots -”

“They are literally made for riding horses, okay? That’s why they were invented .”

Billy rolled his eyes again, but he was smiling brightly as he pulled into the diner parking lot.

It wasn’t too busy for a Sunday morning. Billy bets it’ll pick up in an hour or so for the brunch crowd.

He began working at the diner three years ago, bussing tables and washing dishes, getting paid under the table because technically, he was too young to work. He was a server now, usually taking the evening dinner shifts to miss that time when his dad was home from work.

The bell jingled above their heads as Billy held the door open for Steve, and Billy stuck his tongue out at the kitchen staff, leaning over the counter to swipe a few menus from the stack.

He led Steve to a booth in the back corner, waving at Lorraine, the older woman who was working their section, gesturing to the booth for Steve to take a seat.

“Wow. You’ve totally got this place on lock.”

Billy grinned at him, leaning against the wall to stretch his legs up on the booth next to him.

“I’ve worked here a few years. Kinda done all the staff positions. It’s a nice place.”

“Well, then what do you recommend?” Steve carefully opened the laminated menu, his big eyes flicking over the pictures on the side of every dish.

“Pancakes are good, so are the waffles though, if you’re into that. I like the full breakfast. Eggs, bacon or sausage, hash browns, pancakes, or toast. Kinda the best of everything.”

Steve snapped his menu shut, smiling softly at Billy.

“I’m trusting you with my breakfast here. It better be good .”

Lorraine approached their table, already pouring Billy a cup of coffee and sliding it to him along the table.

“You really love us that much you find your way in here on your day off?”

“Only you, Lorraine. Everybody else can fuck off for all I care.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at Billy.

“You want the usual cook-up?”

“Yes, please.”

She took his unopened menu, turning and smiling brightly at Steve.

“What can I get for you, Darling.”

Steve’s eyes were wide when he looked up at her, his cheeks starting to flush.

“Uh, just, the same as Billy, please.”

“You want a coffee?”

“No, Ma’am. Just a water for me please.” He handed his menu back, giving her a bright smile, his cheeks a soft rosy red.

Lorraine winked at Billy, nodding her head once in Steve’s general direction. Billy waved her off before she could say something embarrassing.

“Sorry, I get kinda weird sometimes.” Steve had pulled a napkin out of the dispenser on their table and was looking down at it, tearing off little chunks and rolling them into balls.

“That’s okay. Lorraine gets it. Plus, you were polite, and that’s all that matters. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you if you were an ass to servers.”

“Oh, God. My dad is such an ass when it comes to, really any staff. Like, servers, or, frankly, most of the people that work for him. Don’t even get me started on the animal carers. I mean, that’s probably the most important job at the whole rodeo, and he’s been trying to dock pay left, right, and fucking center.” Steve rolled his big eyes, huffing like Max.

“Wait, so your dad is like, the head of the whole operation?”

“My name is Steve Harrington,” and Steve pointed at his shirt, the name Harrington emblazoned over the horse.

“Oh damn. I thought that name was familiar when I saw the shirt. Figured I had just seen the rodeo name or something.”

“Nope. That’s me. A whole Harrington. My great-grandpa started the rodeo. He was, like, an actual ranch hand. Started one in the town we’re from. My grandpa was the one who got the idea to take it on the road. My dad came up through it like I did. He was in steer roping. And basically, his end goal is that I start running the whole show in a few years. Take over for him.”

“And, you don’t want to?”

“Nah. I don’t really have a brain for business. Don’t have a brain for much other than riding and tie-down, honestly. Don’t know the first thing about how to run a traveling rodeo.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Steve smiled at him, but his eyes seemed sad, and his smile was tight.

“You got plans for next year? College or anything?”

“Nah. I think college is, on the horizon, but I’m taking a gap year. Saving up to move out and pay for school and everything. Probably gonna go to community college to save some money. And then maybe grad school?”

“That’s smart, you know? Finding ways to save up. My dad is debating pushing college on me. Like, if I do run the business, there’s some shit I should know going into it, right? But I think he also sees that I’m way too dumb for college, and, like, I don’t need a degree to get hired. I’ll just,” Steve made an upwards sweeping gesture with his right hand. A gesture that Billy understood to vaguely mean nepotism.

“What would you rather do? If not run the thing.”

“I like tie-down, and I could feasibly do it for a long time. I could branch into other events, too, like steer roping and all that. Same idea as calf roping but a different animal. Literally. It’s a steer. But I’d be content just doing the events until I croak. I have absolutely no desire to rise through the ranks, or whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes, balling up the little napkin wads he had made into another napkin from the dispenser. Billy appreciated it. He’s had to clean up crap like that from this very floor. “I just love being around the rodeo. The animals and all the people. I don’t really wanna be anywhere else.”

“At least you have something you love. Like, you’d be happy to do that for the rest of your life, and not in an I’ve got nothing better to do way, but in an, I’m passionate about this way. A lot of people don’t really. Get that.” Billy included.

It’s not that he doesn’t have passions, it’s just that they’re not necessarily sustainable to him.

He knows he’s dangling by a thread with his father. Knows after his eighteenth birthday, he should be ready to be kicked out or asked to pay rent at any time. He needs a career that’ll get him some fucking money if he wants to get out and cut off his dad entirely. He can’t be forced to go crawling back to him because he wanted to self-publish his gay ass poetry that never took off or drum in a rock band that went nowhere.

To name a few.

“Yeah, I mean. Sometimes I think that I probably would’ve never set foot in a rodeo if I wasn’t literally born into one, so I kinda wonder who I’d be if this wasn’t everything I knew, but I still really love doing it, and it’s something that I’m actually good at, which speaks volumes.”

They were interrupted by Lorraine returning, placing two identical plates in front of them, a glass of water for Steve, and pulling hot sauce and ketchup out of her apron pocket.

“You two let me know if you need anything else.”

Steve beamed at her, thanking her softly and Billy’s heart fluttered like a stupid idiot.

They tucked in, Steve shoving food into his mouth until his cheeks were bulging, chewing aggressively. It made Billy laugh and nearly spew coffee all over the table.

“I figured you’d have better manners, being the heir to a rodeo dynasty or whatever.”

Steve pulled a face, showing Billy the chewed-up food in his mouth.

“How’s that for manners?”

It was actually fucking funny watching him try to swallow everything stuffed in his mouth.

“It’s borderline painful watching you eat.”

Billy laughed as Steve flicked a piece of scrambled egg at him. It landed on his shoulder. Billy slurped it right off his shirt.

“See! Now, who's the one with no table manners?”

“Still you, Sugar. Still you.”

Breakfast was, like, actually fun.

Not that Billy was expecting it to be shitty, but he wasn’t expecting it to be as carefree, as easy, as it was. He and Steve just, kinda, clicked.

Steve was easy to talk to. He was easy to listen to, easy to laugh with, and even easier to look at.

He’s kinda, everything Billy has ever wanted in a person.

He slid his hand into Billy’s as they were leaving the diner, smiling shyly at Billy when he looked over at him.

And Billy stopped in his tracks, right there in broad daylight, tugging Steve by his hand closer to Billy’s body, sliding his hands up his arms, feeling over Steve’s shoulders, and down his back to settle on his hips. Steve wrapped both arms around Billy’s shoulders, leaning closer to him, almost pressing his whole body against Billy’s.

And it was easy. Kissing Steve was just as easy as talking to him, as laughing with him, as looking at him. It was simple and nice and made Billy feel something he really didn’t want to put too much thought into.

Something that was decidedly not easy.

They pulled away from one another, both their lips red and slick.

Billy opened the passenger door, and Steve folded himself into the seat with a ridiculous amount of grace.

And as Billy drove them aimlessly through the city, he tried not to think of the expiration date on this whole thing, on the dates listed on the back of Steve’s t-shirt.

They’ve got a little under a month together.

And Billy was determined to make that the best goddamn month of both of their natural lives.

[babbysquid]

Not A Whiskey Drinker Pt. 6

Author’s Note: Okay so I had to add a little Pedro easter egg in this chapter so keep your eyes out for that. Also tension between Whiskey and reader rises in this part!

Also hi! I’m back! I’ve been dealing with a lot the past couple months hence the silence but I’m back and planning on still working on NAWD. I can’t promise consistent uploads but I’ll try my hardest. Hope you guys understand ❤️ 

Warnings: cursing, suggestive comments, A KISSS????

Word Count: 1,821

Not A Whiskey Drinker Masterlist

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Although you had nothing to do til your “meeting” with Whiskey at 9, you decided that you would still do a mini workout in the morning. Instead of your standard 6am with Whiskey you opted for a reasonable 8am. You walked into the sparring room and taped up your hands, prepping yourself for some boxing practice. Before you started you hit shuffle on the music app on your phone, sound blaring through the speaker and filling the room. Losing yourself in the music you started hitting the flat of your knuckles into the punching bag in front of you.

Around 10am Whiskey strode through the halls of the Statesman office. Walking by the sparring room he stopped and looked through the window. The faint sound of music came through the thin glass. He watched as you rhythmically hit the punching bag, your form was perfect. Whiskey smiled, proud of the progress you had made in only a few short days.

He opened the door to the sparring room and was immediately hit with a wall of music, lyrics loud and bass thumping in his ears. Thanks to the volume you didn’t realize that Whiskey was standing in the room, leaning against the closed door and watching.

A minute later the song ended and you stopped, pausing the music to get a drink of water. Whiskey cleared his throat, causing you to jump at the sound.

“Wouldn’t wanna be that punching bag.” said Whiskey.

“Whiskey you are a punching bag.” Once again he placed his hand over his heart and repeated the phrase he so loved to tell you,

“You’re breaking my heart darlin’.”

You just rolled your eyes and started hitting the bag again, this time the only sound that filled the room was the smack of your fists on the bag.

“I like the song that was playing. What’s it called?”

“Fire and Gasoline by Sia.” you said between grunts.

“Good lyrics, kinda sexy.”

You stopped, holding the bag so it wouldn’t swing. You thought about the music video for the song and the handsome man that starred in it, his face eerily similar to Whiskey’s.

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

You looked yourself over in the mirror in your room. You put on the dress that you brought with you and some comfortable shoes. The dress was shorter than your standard work skirts and dresses and showed off a little more skin. Hopefully it would help with the whole seduction thing. You chuckled softly to yourself.

The more I learn about Statesman the more similarities between this and cliche spy movies — down to the seduction as a tactic, you thought.

Taking a deep breath and squaring your shoulders back you made your way to the bar located on the Statesman property. You were mentally going through different ways you could get information out of Whiskey. Apparently Whiskey was posing as head of firearms cartel, smuggling illegal weapons into the states. You weren’t sure exactly what information you were trying to obtain, but you were determined to get information nonetheless.

Walking into the bar you quickly scanned the room to see if Whiskey was already there. Low and behold Whiskey was sitting in the back at a table nursing a whiskey, no surprise there. You smirked as he looked up from his drink and made sure you swayed your hips as you made your way to the bar.

You ordered a drink and slowly sipped at it, occasionally looking back to Whiskey’s table. He had been staring at you the entire time. Downing the rest of your drink you ordered a second one. You needed some liquid courage to do this.

Go time.

Picking up your drink you sauntered over to Whiskey’s table.

“This seat taken cowboy?” you asked, nodding your head towards the empty chair.

“It is now.” Whiskey’s eyes lit up as you slid into the seat across from him.

“Now I gotta ask, is it true that everything’s bigger in Texas?” you took a sip from your drink, licking the alcohol off your lips.

“Oh darlin’ I ain’t from Texas, but I assure you I’m just as big as they are in Texas.” he winked, eyes glancing down at your lips.

“Tell me about yourself Mr.?”

“Pascal.” Whiskey reached out his hand and you grabbed it, but before you could shake his hand he brought it to his lips and softly kissed your knuckles.

“Well Mr. Pascal you’re quite the charmer. Tell me, what does a modern day cowboy do for work?”

Get him to talk about himself, focus the conversation on him.

“I’m a businessman and yourself darlin’?”

Quickly you wracked your brain for a suitable job. PA was too easy and you wanted to pick something that you could easily spew information about, but still didn’t draw too much attention.

“Getting my masters in art history.”

Thankfully your mother worked at a museum as curator and you’d picked up plenty of information from her over the years.

“Attractive and smart. Just how I like ‘em.”

“Mr. Pascal you flatter me.” you said, reaching out to playfully swat his hand. “But tell me about you. I’m sure you’re quite a successful businessman.”

“Ah well,” Whiskey rubbed his neck with his hand. “I do my best.”

Was Whiskey blushing?

“I deal with quite valuable products and the transference of them.”

This information you knew, so there was no reason to press him about that.

“Are you able to travel a lot for work?” you took another sip, looking at Whiskey over the rim of your glass.

“Places far and wide for certain.”

“What’s your favorite place you’ve been?”

Whiskey took a drink and pondered the question. You were certainly doing a good job, asking the right questions but not prodding too much. The seduction aspect was certainly impressive too, if he wasn’t already attracted to you he’d certainly be into you by now.

“Macau. Definitely was an interesting time.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

“I’m sure it was Mr. Pascal.”

“I never caught your name darlin’.”

“Mel.” you said, giving him a random name.

“Well Miss Mel, I’d love to get to know you better. As much as I like the drinks at this establishment I have quite the whiskey collection back at my house.”

You smiled, putting your glass down.

“As much as I’d like that Mr. Pascal I’m afraid I’m not a whiskey drinker.”

“Ah well, maybe you’ll learn to love it.” he said, winking at you.

You smiled and pushed your chair back to leave, having gotten the information you needed.

“You did good darlin’.” came Whiskey, making you stop. “Got valuable information through some sweet talking. I’m impressed.”

You turned to face Whiskey. He was sitting back in his chair, arms crossed, a smile on his face.

“Men are all the same, makes it easy for me.” you said with a shrug, sitting back in the chair.

“I was serious about my offer.”

“What offer?” you cocked your head, confusion crossing your face.

“My place. Now I know you’re not a whiskey drinker but I did notice your penchant for gin and tonics and I like to think I’m quite the bartender. If you’ll let me that is.”

Whiskey was serious. He wanted you to come to his place. Admittedly the thought sent warmth spreading across your body. Images of Whiskey walking through his room shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his body and hair tousled ran through your mind. Blinking you shooed the image away. You did love a gin and tonic though…

“Fine. No funny business.”

“Sugar I’m a cowboy not a rodeo clown.”

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

You and Whiskey made your way back to his room in the secret HQ. Stepping in you realized that he had a completely different set up than yours. While your room only had the bedroom and the small adjoining bathroom, he had a full bar and living room as well.

“If you keep that mouth open any longer you’ll start catching flies.” said Whiskey, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back. “Perks of being a senior agent.”

Whiskey motioned to the couch that sat in the middle of the room as he made his way to the bar. He shucked off his leather jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. You couldn’t help but stare at the veins that trailed along his forearms. A look of concentration came across his face as he measured out the proper ingredients for the drinks, his arms and hands flexing. As you watched Whiskey work you were entranced. He looked up as he added a finishing garnish to the drinks and caught your eye, returning your gaze with a wink.

“Darlin’.” he said, placing a drink in your hand and raising his glass to meet yours.

You gave him a silent nod and took a sip, a soft moan escaping your mouth. You were too focused on how good the drink was to notice Whiskey almost choking on his.

“Okay I admit, that’s a damn good gin and tonic.”

“I don’t like to brag unless it’s warranted.”

“Oh shut up you show pony.” snorting at the man.

The next thirty minutes were filled with the most civil exchanges between you and Whiskey since he came to your rescue in the park, the two of you were getting along. Neither of you were paying attention, but over the half hour both of you ended up closer and closer to each other on the couch. At this point your knees were practically touching.

“Right in front of me!” Whiskey was telling you one of the many stories where his attempt at using seduction did not go as planned.

You laughed at failure of Whiskey and his escapades, your hand lightly smacking his chest and resting there. He placed his hand over yours and looked in your eyes, licking a drop of his drink from his bottom lip. You felt your stomach flip. You knew his eyes were brown but they had a level of dimension you had never noticed before. Had his mustache always been that perfectly groomed? And his lips—

You snapped yourself out of it, realizing how close you were to kissing your boss, your boss that you did not like.

“Uh it’s getting pretty late I should get going. Thank you for the drink.” you said, removing your hand from his chest. Giving him a small smile you left his quarters and made your way back to your smaller room.

As the door closed behind you Whiskey slumped into his couch and let out a deep sigh. He knew it was wrong to have feelings for someone who he’d known for essentially two weeks but there was something about you that he couldn’t help but fall for. He had his chance in the park but he didn’t take it. Maybe this was the universe giving him a second chance with you.

taglist: @absurdthirst @space-daddy-owns-me @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence @littlemissoblivious @agingerindenial @mack4676 @loveforminato @thats-one-tender-foot @xwingsandohs @purplepascal042 @harami-mami @nova646 @lesbianlena @computeringturtle @cassandras-nest @fourtypercent0ff @demoneyesanddamagedsouls @whatsthatmysterioustickingnoise

[secretlynestaarcheron]

Nesta Ballerina AU ~ should I write a one shot??

One shot:

Nesta stretched her arms above her head, before plopping them back on the comforter, yawning as she opened her eyes squinting at the beam of light peeking through her tiny window. She rips of the comforter, throwing her legs at the side, a new wave of excitement rushing through her.

She throws on a sweater and slips on her slippers as she pushes open the door of her room and enters the kitchen, living room, office, dance studio combo. Mor was already up, moving around the kitchen, bopping her head to the music that was playing from her phone.

“It’s show day!” Nesta yells.

Mor jumps turning to see Nesta. “It’s show day!” Mor screams back, jumping up and down. They had moved to New York together four years ago, going to school to be professional ballerinas, and then auditioning for company after company until they finally got in. “Celebratory pancakes?”

Nesta smiles as she slides onto one of the bar stools as Mor slides a plate in front of her. “Any news about the boyfriend?” Mor asks, stuffing a fork full of pancake into her mouth.

Nesta frowns, reaching forward to grab the jar of syrup, squeezing a little bit on top. She shrugs, “It’s not a big deal, he called me last night,” Nesta says, pushing her food around, “He couldn’t get off work, some important meeting tonight. He’s going to try and come next week.”

Mor bites her lip, reaching over to squeeze her hand, before pulling back and going back to her pancakes. “Issa okay, it’ll be so busy today, you won’t even miss him,” she replies. “I think almond milk lattes from Beans and then we head to the theater early and check everything out.”

Nesta nods, she was going to need all the coffee she can get, their director Amara wanted to do a few more run throughs of the show to touch up any mistakes before the first showing. Nesta’s ankles already ached from yesterday's rehearsal.

“So Rhysand and Azriel are both coming,” Mor responds, looking down at her phone. “Feyre is coming straight after work. I think she’s bringing her loser boyfriend, Tamlin or whatever. Elain and Lucien found a babysitter so they are coming. I haven’t heard from Amren.”

Nesta rolls her eyes. “I called her yesterday, she's coming. She just wanted to pull on your strings.”

There’s a knock on the door and Mor twirls as she moves towards it, Nesta pulling her phone out from her pocket to see a text from Cassian. Good luck tonight, beat all those other bunheads. She smiles, he meant well but as a professional hockey player he didn’t really get the whole non-competing thing.

“I think these are for you,” Mor sing-songs. Nesta quickly hits send on her message back and looks up at Mor who was holding a boutique of flowers. Nesta jumps out of her seat and grabs the flowers, looking for the card. Cassian.

She smiles, “Take a pic of me? I’ll send it to him,” she responds.

Mor grabs Nesta’s phone and snaps a picture. “Okay, now hurry up,” Mor replies, “I don’t want to be late.”

Nesta rolls her eyes as her friend pushes her into her room. “You don’t want to be late to get to the theater early?” she deadpans. Mor gives her a look before slamming the door. Nesta chuckles, sending the picture to Cassian. I’d rather have you but the flowers were a nice touch.

She hits send before putting on her leotard, slipping on a skirt and sweater, she slides on some boots before heading back out into the living room. “Look at this sweet video Elain sent me on snapchat,” Mor says, handing me the phone, it was Nesta niece in a tutu dancing around the living room. “I can’t believe it’s real, I feel like someone needs to pitch me and I’ll wake back up in small town Prythian, Rhode Island in Night Court Dance Studio.”

“Stars, remember how many times Feyre would get yelled at by Morta Queen?” Nesta asks as she grabs her dance bag and wallet and they make their way out of their crabby little apartment and down the narrow hall towards the exit. “She was so uncoordinated.”

Mor laughs as they move down the stairs and onto the busy street, squeezing through the people towards the coffee shop between their apartment and the theater. “And how Morta Queen used to bring her cat to rehearsals, she always wondered why our tights would always be ripped up,” Mor laughs as they clumsily fall into the door of the shop.

“Nesta! Mor! How nervous are you?” the barista behind the counter asks. “I can’t wait to see you guys perform, got my tickets for two weekends from now.”

Mor smiles and goes on a rant about how excited and nervous she is while Nesta can’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by so many people that loved and supported her. She looks down at her phone, Cassian hadn’t responded to her last message but he was probably in his meeting.

She was hoping to call him before the show but as Mor thrusts a coffee in her hand and pulls the other out the door she knows that's a long shot. The halls are already bustling with chatter as they move towards their dressing room. Tutus and leotards littering the hall, the halls foggy from hairspray.

“I told you we would be late to be early,” Mor says, giving Nesta a pointed look as they move into the dressing room. Two girls are already inside breaking in their pointe shoes. One of them looks up and smiles, “Amara is already on a rampage, I’d get into practice gear quick,” she warns.

Nesta downs her coffee before grabbing her pointe shoes from her bag and following Mor out onto the stage.

A long draining couple of hours later, Mor and Nesta make their way back into the dressing room falling onto the couch. “No....energy,” Mor groans, her face pushed against a pillow. “My blisters have blisters.”

“Tell me about it,” Nesta says, falling into one of the makeup chairs and rubbing her feet. “Amara said we have ten minutes to get dressed and then be in hair and makeup so I am-,”

“Going to go call the boyfriend?” Mor ques, pushing herself into a sitting position, giving Nesta a taunting smile. “I’ll grab you a snack and bring it to you when we meet up for hair and makeup.”

Nesta grabs her phone and touches her chest. “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?” Nesta exclaims as she leaves the dressing room, shoving through the line of girls in puffy tutus until she's in the back alley. She hits his contact and then puts the phone to her ear.

She bites her nail as she listens to it ring. His voice booming through the speakers seconds later: You’ve reached Cassian Monte, you know what to do.

She pauses, wanting to hang up and pretend she never called. It was a pretty new relationship, they went to high school together but never spoke until two years ago when they met at some fancy dinner her school threw. She had absolutely hated him at first as he kept popping into her life.

She finally let him take her out on a date the last time he was in town five months ago. “Hey Cas, um, I am about to go on soon so I thought I’d give you a call-,” she pauses biting her lip. “I hope your meeting went well today.”

There's a pause and she feels like she should say no but she just hangs up. Blowing at a strain of hair that slipped out from her pony-tail. She still had a whole army of people coming to support her. Besides he had sent her flowers this morning, it’s not his fault that he had meetings.

She looks down at her phone as if he was about to call her but when she’s only met with a black screen she swallows and pushes her way back into the building, walking down the crowded halls and into her dressing room where she changed into her costume before finding Mor at a vanity.

“Hey lovebird,” Mor says, as she leaned forward in the mirror to apply mascara. “You didn’t talk long.”

Nesta gave her a tight smile, as she took the seat next to her, two crew members immediately moving to begin working on her hair. “Yeah, well, I have an opening night to get ready for!” she exclaims.

Mor smiles, handing Nesta a stack of cards, “Well wishes from the friends and family,” Mor says, turning away from her to begin speaking to the hairdresser as Nesta fingered through different cards from her friends and family.

I am super excited for you both but did you really have to seat me right next to the love of my life and her douche boyfriend Tamlin? Stars, someone needs to punch him. -Rhys

You both have been working so hard for this, I am so excited for both of you Nesta eyes squint as the handwriting becomes more scribbled and tinier. Sorry. Elain started crying. It’s Lucien. She wants me to write that she is proud of both of you and that you are both role models for Lucy. -Elain and Lucien

“Curtain is up in ten minutes, everyone!” a producer yells, clapping her hands, Mor turns to smile at Nesta.

“This is it,” Mor comments.

The show is a blur of motion and music, Nesta can’t express what she’s feeling when she steps forward to take her final bow. She is speechless when she exits the theater and her friends and family surround her, Elain pulling her into a tearful hug while Feyre gives her a boutique of flowers.

She turns to see a tall man that she had never seen before that Rhysand was causally glaring at. “You must be the boyfriend, Tamlin, we are grabbing drinks after-,” Nesta says. Feyre who stood next to him shakes her head, her eyes wide as if trying to give Nesta a message.

“Drinks?” Tamlin asks, turning to Feyre who immediately stops shaking her head and laughs. “No, uh remember I mentioned having a thing in the morning, so I can’t stay out late.”

Tamlin nods, “I’ll grab us a taxi,” he muses as he moves towards the street.

“You were beautiful, Nes. Mom would have been proud,” Feyre says, pulling Nesta into a hug. “If I ever say I am going on a date with him ever again please knock some sense into me.”

“Feyre, ready?” Tamlin calls.

She rolls her eyes as she moved towards the taxi. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Feyre yells at them before Tamlin shuts the door and sits in the passenger seat.

“Ick, who sits in the front of a taxi?” Rhysand complains.

Mor bumps his shoulder. “She wouldn’t go on all these terrible dates if you just admitted how you felt already,” she exclaims.

“I have, it’s her turn,” Rhysand retorts.

Nesta rolls her eyes at their stubborness before turning to Elain and Lucien. “One drink? The bar I am thinking is just around the corner,” Nesta says, pulling at her sisters hands as if to guide her.

Elain chuckles turning to look at Lucien who shrugs. “We did tell the babysitter we would be out late,” she says and Nesta let’s out a cheer as she wraps an arm around her sisters shoulder and guides them down the street.

A few of there cast mates were already there celebrating. Elain and Lucien only staying for one drink, while the rest kept going strong.

Nesta catches Mor staring down at her phone before smiling. “Wanna head back soon?” Mor calls over the music.

Nesta nods feeling the exhaustion set in. They didn’t have a show tomorrow but they did have rehearsals and then a show Sunday. She probably should stay out too late.

Mor disappears before coming back minutes later a mischievous smile on her face. “I actually got asked to go home with that pretty blue eyed brunette over there, do you mind?” Mor asks.

Nesta follows Mor finger, it was one of girls on the makeup crew. She wasn’t Mors usual type. “You deserve your happy ending, go for it,” Nesta says. “Text me or call me anytime, okay?”

Mor nods pulling her into a hug. “Text me when you make it home, I might have a package waiting on the doorstep mind bringing it in for me?”

Nesta rolls her eyes but nods, mor was always treating herself to an online shopping spree. She moves through the crowd of sweaty people rubbing arms and onto the almost empty street.

They lived three doors down so it was a quick walk to their apartment. Nesta looks on the doorstep for a package but doesn’t see anything as she slides in the key and twists the knob.

She pauses in the doorway when she flicks on the light and there was a stack of her favorite snacks and a new romcom dvd sitting on the counter, as well as the blankets from both their rooms spread out on the furniture to create a fort.

She raises an eyebrow as she shuts the door, moving deeper into the apartment. Someone in the fort mutters a curse before popping out and giving her a sheepish smile. “You weren’t supposed to be back yet,” Cassian says as he awkwardly gets out of the fort and stands up.

He scratches the back of his neck nervously as he looks at her and she realizes she hasn’t said anything. “I am sorry, is this overstepping? I guess I wouldn’t be too thrilled to have a guy-,��

“No, it’s-,” she pauses as she looks at the fort and she’s the laptop screen beaming through the opening. She drops her bag in the ground and moves quickly to him. She throws her arms around his neck and he tightens his around her waist, picking her up in one smooth motion. “I am just shocked that you're here. No one has done something like this before.”

He smiles as they pull away, she slides down so her feet touch the ground but he’s still holding tightly to her waist. “If you’re tired I get it, you did so well tonight. God, Nes, you looked stunning up there,” he whispers against her temple.

She looks up at him. “You were there? You saw my performance?” She asks with excitement dripping from her voice. She hated being out of the know but Cassian was glad he was able to surprise her.

“My flight was delayed, I almost didn’t make it. That’s why I didn’t answer when you called. I was still up in the air,” Cassian says. “I had to rush to the theater. I was standing all the way in the back, but I could still see you crush it.”

She laughs, pulling away from him and looking up at him seriously. “I missed you, a lot,” she says honestly.

“I missed you too,” he replies, pulling her back into his chest and stroking her hair. When she finally pulls away to shower and change she half expects him not to be there. That her dehydrated exhausted mind created a false reality but she opens her door he’s curled up in the fort waiting for her with a big bowl of popcorn.

Before she crawls in to join him, she looks over as her phone lights up with a new message from Mor. Did you like my package? Nesta smiles sending back a quick response and then crawling in the fort and curling up beside Cassian.

[shirlleycoyle]

How 9/11 Became Fan Fiction Canon

Every fictional character you can think of has experienced 9/11 in fanfiction.

A Clone Wars veteran with two lightsabers is on United Airlines Flight 93 and prevents it from crashing. Ron and Hermione get caught up in the chaos as the towers fall. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and her friends watch the attacks unfold on TV from Sunnydale. We have spent 20 years trying to process what happened on 9/11 and its fallout, and that messy process can be tracked through the countless, sad, disturbing, and sometimes very funny fanfiction left across the internet.

Many of the fanfics written in the weeks and months following the 9/11 attacks seemed to directly respond to the news as it happened, processing the tragedy in real-time through the eyes of characters they loved. In the absence of a canon episode where Daria Morgendorffer paid respects to those lost, writing fanfic about these characters also experiencing trauma helped fans cope.

One YuGiOh fanfic published on fanfiction.net in May 2002 could have been ripped exactly from what this writer experienced that Tuesday morning. “It started as a normal day,” user Gijinka Renamon wrote. Yugi and his friends were in school, where their teacher informed them of the attacks and sent everyone home from school.

“After reading people’s 9/11 fics, I decided to write my own, and put a certain character in it. And Yugi and his pals were my first choice,” the author's note reads, explaining the connection they felt to United flight 93 and the World Trade Center attacks. Given that they lived in Pennsylvania, and “it’s close to New York, I felt really sad about it.”

Stitch, a fandom journalist for Teen Vogue, told Motherboard that this reaction to 9/11 is not at all uncommon in fandom.

"Fandom has always been a place that positions nothing as 'off limits,'" she said. "Historical tragedies like the Titanic sinking and atrocities like… all of World War 2 show up regularly across the past 30 years of people creating stories and art about the characters they love. So, on some level, it makes sense that 9/11 and the following 20-year military installation in the Middle East has joined the ranks of things people in different fandoms turn into settings for their fan fiction."

Reactions depicted in a handful of Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfics published in the weeks after the attacks ring a little truer to the characters. “Tuesday, 11th September 2001,” written by Anna K, almost echoes the lyrics from “I’ve Got a Theory,” one of the songs in the musical episode that aired in November 2001. “We have seen the apocalypse. We have prevented it. Actually, we’ve prevented quite a few. So we know what they look like,” they write, before taking a darker turn. “They look a lot like…New York today.”

Killing demons and vampires doesn’t phase the Scooby Gang, but when preventable human death is brought into the picture, it’s gut wrenching.

“What am I supposed to do…When I can’t do anything to save the world?” Buffy cries  into Spike’s chest, watching the attacks unfold on TV in a fanfic the author described as being “about feeling numb and helpless.”

In “Blood Drive,” Kirayoshi writes about Buffy and her friends saving a van full of donated blood meant for victims of the attacks from a group of thirsty vampires. One Buffy the Vampire Slayer fic even takes a blindly patriotic turn, where noted lesbian witch Tara McClay helps Xander hang an American flag from the window of the magic shop to make Anya feel better.

Experiencing 9/11 as a young teenager was overwhelming not just because of the loss of life. Almost immediately after the event itself, it was as if the entirety of American culture re-oriented itself towards an overtly jingoistic stance. As we get distance from the attacks, seeing the tone of television and movies from the early 2000s is jarring, and some have gone viral on Twitter. In the world of pop music, mainstream musicians like the Chicks, formerly known as the Dixie Chicks, were blacklisted from the radio while Toby Keith sang about putting a boot up the ass of terrorists. On the Disney Channel, a young Shia Labeouf reading a poem he supposedly wrote about the events. The poem concludes with the line, "it's awesome to be an American citizen."

In a world so completely saturated with this messaging, it is not surprising that fanfic authors started including 9/11 in their work so soon after the event. Even The West Wing had a strange, out of continuity, fanfic-esque episode where the characters reacted to 9/11. In some cases, it made sense that the characters in the stories would be close to or a part of the events themselves.

"For characters like John Watson or Captain America, the idea works to an extent," Stitch told Motherboard. "In the original Sherlock Holmes works and the 2011 BBC series, Watson had just returned from Afghanistan. For Captain America and other Marvel heroes, 9/11 was something that was addressed in-universe in The Amazing Spider-Man volume 2 #36. Technically, 9/11 is 'canon' to the Marvel universe."

In “Early Warning: Terrorism,” a fanfiction for the TV show Early Edition in which a man who mysteriously receives tomorrow's newspaper, predicting the future, avoids jingoism, but tries to precent 9/11 from happening. This fanfic remains unfinished; it’s unclear if the characters successfully prevent 9/11 in this retelling.

Largely in fanfic from the era just after 9/11, when many young authors were trying to emotionally grapple with it, the characters don't re-write or undo the events themselves. It's this emphasis on the reaction to tragedy that colors the fanfiction that features 9/11 going forward.

Although fanfiction authors have been writing about 9/11 consistently since soon after the event, whenever that fanfiction reaches outside of its intended audience, it looks bizarre.

A screenshot of a Naruto 9/11 fanfic on the Tumblr subreddit comes without any context, or even more than two lines and an author's note. It’s impossible to suss out if this falls into the category of sincere fanfic without the rest of the piece or a publication date, but modern-day commenters on the Reddit thread see it as classic Tumblr trash.

Screenshot from r/Tumblr

“Bin Laden/Dick Cheney, enemies to lovers, 10k words, slow burn,” one user joked in the replies, underscoring the weirdness of Naruto being in the Twin Towers by comparing it to a What If story about Cheney and Bin Laden slowly falling deeply in love.

It’s hard to tell how much of the 9/11 fanfic and fanart starting a few years after the attacks is sincere, and how much of it is ironic, and trying to make fun of the very concept of writing fanfiction about 9/11.

A 2007 anime music video (in which various clips, usually from anime, are cut together to music) that combines scenes from The Lion King with Linkin Park’s “Crawling” and clips from George Bush’s speeches immediately after the attacks feels like the perfect example of this. Even the commenters can’t seem to suss out if this person is a troll or not.

There’s no way that My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic 9/11 fanart could be serious, right? Especially if the description pays tribute to “some of the nation's most memorable buildings,” and features five of the main characters as child versions of themselves. The comments again are split between users thanking the artist for a thoughtful remembrance post, and people making their own headcanon for why Twilight Sparkle is surreptitiously absent from the scene.

Screengrab via DeviantArt

There’s Phineas and Ferb fanfic that combines a 9/11 tribute concert with flashbacks to Ferb being rescued from the towers as a baby, written on the 10th anniversary of the attacks. It jumps from introspection to lines like, “‘Quiet Perry the Platypus. I’m trying to listen to these kids singing a 9/11 tribute.’”

The author's notes make it more likely that they meant for this to be a tribute piece, but it doesn’t quite make sense until watching a YouTube dramatic reading of it from 2020, fully embracing the absurdity of it all.

“For me, 9/11 is synonymous with war. It completely changed the course of my life," Dreadnought, the author of a Captain America fanfic Baghdad Waltz that sees Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes fall in love over the course of the war on terror, told Motherboard. "It’s the reason I joined the military, and I developed deep connections with people who would go on to deploy to Afghanistan and Iraq. These very much felt like my generation’s wars, perhaps because people I graduated high school with were the youngest folks eligible to serve at the time.”

Dreadnought told Motherboard that although they didn't deploy, their career has kept 9/11 and the trauma from it in their mind. After seeing that people who fantasize about Steve and Bucky getting together seemed particularly interested in reading fanfiction that related to 9/11, they decided to try their hand at it.

"I had to do something with all of that emotionally, and I’m admittedly a bit emotionally avoidant. So I learned through fic that it’s easier for me to process those feelings and the knowledge of all the awful stuff that can happen in war if I can turn it into something creative," Dreadnought said. "Give the feelings to fake people and then have those fake people give the feelings to readers!"

To Dreadnought, who is a queer man, the experience of researching and writing this was more cathartic than they first expected, especially as a way to navigate feelings about masculinity, military culture, and queer identity. But they said the research they did, which included watching footage of first responders at ground zero, was what helped them finally process the event itself.

"It was like a delayed horror, and it was more powerful than I expected it would be." Dreadnought said. "When I was eighteen, I was pretty emotionally divorced from 9/11; I just knew I wanted to do something about it. So coming back to it in my 30s while writing this fic, it was a very different experience. Even the research for this story ended up being an extraordinarily valuable exercise in cognitively and emotionally processing 9/11 and all of its second and third order effects."

Fanfiction that features 9/11 provides an outlet for people who still grapple with the trauma from that day. But Stitch warns that the dynamics of fandom and how it relates to politics can also create fiction that's less respectful and more grotesque.

"With years of distance between the stories written and the original events of 9/11, there seems to be some sort of cushion for fans who choose to use those events as a catalyst for relationships—and Iraq and Afghanistan for settings," Stitch said. "The cushion allows them room to fictionalize real world events that changed the shape of the world as we know it, but it also insulates them from having to think about what they may be putting into the world."

The tendency of turning these events into settings or backgrounds for mostly white, male characters to fall in love has the unintended effect of displacing the effects that the war on terror has had on the world over. Steve and Bucky might fall in love during the war on terror, but they would also be acting as a part of the American military in a war that has been criticized since it started. Fanfic writers in other fandoms have come under fire for using real world tragedy as settings for fic before. In the aftermath of the 2010 Haiti earthquake Supernatural fanfiction about the actors Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki going to the island to do aid became controversial within the fandom. There have also been fics where characters grapple with the death of George Floyd that is written in a way that displaces the event from the broader cultural context of race in America.

"A Captain America story where Steve Rogers is a 'regular' man who joins the US Army and 'fights for our freedom' post-9/11 is unlikely to deal with the war’s effect on locals who are subject to US military intervention," Stitch said. "It’s unlikely to sit with what Captain America has always meant and what a writer is doing by dropping Steve Rogers into a then-ongoing conflict in any capacity."

After enough time, “never forget” can even morph into “but what if it never happened?” A 19k+ word Star Wars alternate universe fanfic asks this question, wondering what would have unfolded if someone with two lightsabers was on United Flight 93. This fic, part of a larger fanfic series with its own Wikia, considers what would have happened if Earth was a military front in the Clone Wars.

In this version of events, a decorated general who served in the Clone Wars is able to take back control of Flight 93 before it crashes, landing safely and preventing even more tragedy from happening that day. In the end, all of the passengers who made harrowing last calls to their loved ones before perishing in a Pennsylvania field survive thanks to the power of the Force, and are awarded medals of honor by President Bush.

Twenty years after the attacks, it’s painful to think about what would have happened if people got to work 15 minutes later, or missed their trains that morning. There weren’t Jedi masters deployed to save people in real life, but for some of the fanfic writers working today, the world of Star Wars might feel just as removed as the world before September 11, 2001.

Fiction serves as a powerful playground for processing cultural events, especially generational trauma. The act isn't neutral though; a decade's worth of fanfiction that takes place on or around 9/11 shows how our own understanding of a traumatic event can shift with time.

How 9/11 Became Fan Fiction Canon syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[infernobot]

TEETH?

Teeth?

By InfernoBot

I had just finished recording, and was carrying my dog in from the office, when my mom handed me an envelope. Once I had my sweet pupper nestled into a blanket, I joined her on the couch and slit open my mysterious delivery. Inside was no note, just a brochure to something called ‘Furnal Equinox’ and an accompanying plastic badge bearing the image of a anthropomorphic dog, (maybe it was a wolf), wearing a graduation cap and gown.

As my eyes scanned the glossy pages, my excitement grew; some lovely person had sent me a weekend pass to a furry convention! This was my big chance to make a video detailing my adventures through a mass gathering of one of the internet’s most maligned and misunderstood subcultures. Over the coming weeks, I studied the brochure, read up on the panelists online, noted every question about the furry fandom that popped into my head. My itinerary for the whole weekend was mapped out. 

Super chats and KoFi tips managed to cover the cost of a bottom-barrel airline ticket, and I got a great deal on an Air B&B from a charming indiginous woman named Semide, whose sisters had enrolled in college and left their rooms vacant. She was even kind enough to include meals as part of the deal. The weekend of the con finally rolled around; I threw my things in a bag and I was off to Toronto.

Eighteen hours and three layovers later, I was sitting at my host’s kitchen table with a warm towel draped over the back of my neck, sipping a cup of coffee. It turned out Semide was a naturopathic healer and knew some kickin’ remedies for aches, pains and jet lag. I don’t put much stock in essential oils, but damn if I didn’t wake up feeling fresh and ready to face the day the next morning. The convention was being held on the waterfront about nine blocks from Semide’s place, not too bad for a walk, and I reckoned I could make the trek each day. 

I left late in the morning, well after the con had opened. No sense waiting in line, I figured. It was three blocks from the Westin Harbor Castle, when I saw the first fursuit. 

There was no explaining the rush of exhilaration I felt. This was real. This was happening. I was gradually being surrounded by dozens of people decked out in bright, elaborate costumes. Some that couldn’t afford full suits wore just heads and gloves, giving a ghoulish Frankenstein’s monster appearance to their character. Or the wolf-man caught mid transformation after being bitten by a neon fox in a rainbow pride shirt. The less daring, or particularly destitute, settled for headbands with animal ears and strap-on tails. 

Waiting to cross the last street, I was elbow to elbow with a giant Sonic the Hedgehog and a seven-foot tall purple giraffe sporting a quadruple-XL adult diaper. Something told me before the weekend was over, that particular garment would get filled. Before I could contemplate the logistics further, the light changed and the extremely polite, if curiously dressed herd moved into the street and we sorted into a semblance of a line being steadily processed through the doors into the main convention hall. I was in.

The lead-up to the main event hadn’t prepared me for what lay inside. A teenage girl in a ‘volunteer’ shirt thrust an opaque plastic bag into my hands before Big The Cat shoved me aside and began professing his undying love for her beauty. I stumbled into the row of booths on the main floor, further progress blocked by an electric green armadillo strumming an acoustic guitar with a stuffed fish tucked in the strings. 

This was it, I weaved my way between con-goers and took it all in. Clip-on LED cat ears. A custom-fit fang booth. Stacks of comics focused on humanoid animals. Racks upon racks of faux-leather collars and leashes. The waifu pillows. I pulled my phone from my pocket and approached the nearest open booth.

Time for an interview, I thought.

Eight hours, two energy drinks and a box of granola bars later, I was dead on my feet. There was no way of knowing how many people I’d talked to as the day progressed. Or just how strange my conversations had become. I think I spoke at length with Cool Cat about the merits of various vape pens, despite the fact I don’t smoke. But it hadn’t all been nonsense. 

Before I had degenerated into a gibbering wreck, I had chanced to be standing beside a fountain near the food court and heard a familiar warbling voice behind me. To my great delight, when I turned around I found a young woman with jet black hair, a hawaiian shirt and a black & yellow long-Furby draped over her shoulders; I instantly recognized her as Teya from Strange Aeons. After she’d finished speaking to her friend, I politely tapped her on the arm and introduced myself. She turned out to be super cool, excited to meet another youtube creator, and talked to me for about ten minutes as her girlfriend went off to wait in line for the bathroom. 

While most of our conversation centered around videos and our special boy Greg, my eyes kept getting drawn back to Thursday Plurbonym Boyporridge. His black and yellow checkered belly, his luxurious black fur, those piercing green eyes; it was all so captivating. I couldn’t quit looking at the charm necklace below his little yellow beak spelling out his name; Thursday. Eventually, I complimented her on her videos and her handsome long-son one last time and we parted ways. It had been a pleasant break, but even here, the persistent strains of Insane Clown Posse that permeated the space were grating on my nerves. 

When the time had come for all the furry folk to close up shop and head home, I staggered out into the street with all the lingering con-goers. Despite the initial culture shock, most of the people I’d met had been great. I could stand here, elbow to elbow with ponies, foxskies, giant pomeranians and adorable cat girl maids on the steps of Westin Harbor Castle, and just enjoy the last moments of the sun setting over Toronto. That is until the moment was shattered by an obnoxious voice that sounded more like it belonged outside a Patriots game accompanied by the echo of shattering beer bottles. 

“Now that the party’s over, we can get down to the afterparty at my place; which of you bitches wants to come home with me?”

My head swiveled like a tank turret toward the source of the voice, my face bearing the expression which must have read did this motherfucker just?

A man-child wearing a My Little Pony t-shirt that had been stretched over his prodigious girth, a pair of denim jorts hanging past his knees and sweat-stained socks encased in mandles, slid his oily bulk up behind a group of teenage girls dressed as some kind of anime cat maids. He leaned his acne-studded face in close to them and said, “Since you’re dressed as maids, how about I take you home and make you change my cumm-y bedsheets after a night of passionate love-making.” 

The overly-polite locals may have been in shock, but I knew a neckbeard when I saw one and knew immediately what to do.

“How ‘bout you back the fuck off bro, they’re kids.”

Maybe he wasn’t expecting resistance, but he seemed genuinely taken aback by someone speaking up. Once he got a look at me, he re-adjusted his fedora and stared me down. I admit, I might not look terribly intimidating; bulky, but not muscular, with my hair dyed bright teal and swept to one side. At least I had on a Pink Floyd t-shirt, that felt a little like a layer of protection against his fed-aura. He drew in a snot-choked breath and continued,

“They’re dressed as the maids from Painappuru No Oshiri, they’re harem girls that’re totally thirsty for the main character. Each maid is eager to bend over and present their ripe ruby star-fruit to their master. They’re, like, practically advertising how much they want it in the ass.”

“Why don’t you leave them alone, fuckmuppet?” I retorted. “You look like you're forty and they’re a bunch of teen girls.”

He was not pleased with my argument. The group of cat-maidens had shaken off their surprise and closed ranks. But they weren’t ready when he lunged forward and grabbed at the petticoat of the red cat-maid on the outside, lifting her skirts up to expose the shorts underneath.

“It’s not even a chick, it’s a dude. Chill out.”

A glance at the cosplayer’s face revealed a mask of burning red embarrassment, fear and confusion. Their friends were moving to grab at the neckbeard’s hand, but I was quicker. I swatted his arm like I was chopping down the internet itself and pushed right up in his face. Practically nose-to-nose, I couldn’t avoid the stench of fermented funyuns rolling off his breath.

“Keep. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off of them.”

His chins quivered slightly. 

“Oh, you wanna start something, Rainbow Brite? I bet you like it in the ass, prancy-boy.”

“For a supposedly straight guy, you sure are obsessed with getting your dick in a guy’s butt.”

The flab of his cheeks reddened to match his acne.

“You’re gonna regret that. I’m a man with a very particular set of skills…”

I cut him off; I didn’t have the patience for a real-life copy pasta.

“Is one of your skills getting punched by me? Cause if you keep talking, you’re going to be teaching a master class.”

I could feel that neckbeardy-bravado wavering. Perhaps he could sense the crowd around us had turned against him, moving to shield the cat-maids and staring daggers into his lumpy flesh. With one last snotty huff, he turned and stormed away; the sound of his mandles slapping on the concrete echoed off the face of the convention center. 

A group of several of the more adulty-er people had ringed the victims and were doing their best to calm them down. I shuffled over and started to apologize for the beardo’s behavior, when the red cat-maid began thanking me profusely and asked for a hug. Apparently, this was not the first time their group had been approached at the convention. We stood around chatting for a while, and they promised to check Evangelion when they got home. Once the cat-maids were safely in their Lyft, I waved them goodbye and turned to make my journey home for the night.

I started back up the street I'd taken this morning, but as I approached the doorway to a grimey building, I became aware of a fully-suited Yogi Bear propositioning a man dressed like Linda-Carter-era Wonder Woman. I was pretty wiped out and didn’t have it in me to process an altercation like this if they noticed me and instead took an abrupt right turn down an alley, intending to zig-zag back to my Air B&B. 

I was nearly out the other side when my ears picked up the slapping of mandles on pavement rushing up behind me. A searing pain burst into existence in my lower back, like someone put a cigarette out on my spine. 

I went down, hard. 

The mylar swag bag I’d been swinging around all day splashed into a puddle off to one side. I was barely able to heave myself over onto my back to get a look at my attacker. It was him. The Neckbeard. He stood over me, grinning, his yellowed teeth visible in the night. The little black box in his hand flickered with a blue spark as he triggered the taser again.

“Heh heh. You like that, princess? I aimed a little high so I wouldn’t damage your sweet ass.”

“Fuck….you….” I gasped out through the pain. My muscles were cramping like someone had dug a burning fork into my lower back and twisted it up like a plate of spaghetti. 

“Heh. You’re the one taking it in the ass, rainbow bitch.” He stepped over me, squatting like a linebacker, bringing the taser close to my face. “Maybe I’ll push this in your eyeball and see if I can make it boil.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of movement between his legs. Something thin and dark darted up from the shadows, toward his exposed back. He let out a cry of surprise, and shot upright, swinging his arms wildly behind him, grabbing at something. He hopped wildly from foot-to-foot across the alley, the tail hanging from the back of his pants swaying wildly with the movement. I thought it was weird I hadn’t noticed the tail before, especially with how long it was, practically sweeping the ground. The fuzzy black appendage was moving...wrong. It kept curling up and twisting out of his hands as he grasped at it, almost as if it were...alive. 

“Oh Goddamnit!” He screamed. “What the fuck, dude?!” 

He dropped the taser and got a grip on the tail with both hands, tugging on it. A ripping sound echoed through the alley as the seat of his pants tore out. The thing was, the tail wasn’t attached to his pants, it was going in through his pants, nestled between his prodigious posterior cheeks like one of those fetish plugs. As he violently jerked it side-to-side, it was ripping at the fabric of his trousers, the same went for his less-than-tidey whiteys. 

“Get this fucking thing off of me!” He howled. 

He grunted as the tail slipped his fingers and wriggled another foot inside him. Tears were welling up in his eyes and he collapsed back against a green dumpster. Like a man who had gambled on a street taco truck and lost, he bit his knuckle and gripped his abdomen through his stained t-shirt. It might have been a trick of the light, but I swear I could see his belly distend and squirm; the words ‘Friendship Is Magic’ bulging as something rolled under them. 

His mandles dug into the alley grime as he feebly kicked his legs, and I could only watch in disgust as the rest of the fuzzy, black, thing slithered up inside him, forcibly dilating his leather cheerio. It was incredible. I could actually see its progress as it wormed its way through his body. He blubbered something about God and Jesus as his hand clawed frantically at his own belly, before his voice abruptly went silent. 

There was a long, drawn-out wheezing sound, like one of those novelty rubber chickens, as the bulk of the thing moved up his throat. I don’t know how his flesh distended and deformed without bursting, but it reached his mouth and his jaw opened wide. First one small black, fuzzy ear lined with black and yellow plaid popped up, then another, followed by the crown of this thing’s head, pushing his teeth outward like flower petals blooming. 

It rose before me, straight up from his mouth, its black and yellow belly slick, but not stained by his juices. His dislodged teeth clung to its matted fur like an obscene necklace. It swayed slightly in the moonlight, a pair of luminous green eyes fixed on mine, and its beak opened. With the rising inflection of someone asking a question, it uttered one word: 

Teeth?

[kunderdogs]

Take A Chance IV

Simon Dominic (AOMG) x Y/N (Reader) Genre: Romance / Angst Count: 2.4k+ Warnings: None Rating: Mature (suggestive, swearing) Summary: Who would’ve thought a one night stand with Simon D would turn into FWB? It only gets more complicated when you developed feelings, against your better judgement.

Chapter One. | Chapter Two. | Chapter Three. | Chapter Four. | Chapter Five. | Chapter Six. | Chapter Seven. |

Over the course of two weeks, you and Kiseok had a pretty good routine going on. He didn't come over every night, more like every other but he called and texted you nearly every chance he got.

At first you didn't think anything of it. He would ask you how your day was, if you ate and how you were feeling. Nothing crazy or out of pocket. It was innocent most of the time, and usually followed up by making plans to see you later on.

There was nothing you could do to stop your heart from bursting out of your chest each time you heard a small chime. Nicole had glared at you once when you two were on lunch and you scrambled over the table to reach your phone.

"Is that Lover Boy?" She teased. You were thankful that, out of all the nicknames she could've used - and she had a lot of them -, lover boy was the one she had stuck with. For now.

"What?" You feigned ignorance, "I have no idea what you're talking about. That's...Amazon. My package was delivered."

She smirked, sipping her iced tea, "I'm sure it was."

After a few days, Kiseok's texts became a little more...risky. You had no problem with sexting. When in the right setting, it was hot but he would send you wild shit while you're in the middle of a meeting, or when you're trying to finish up the last of your work before heading to see him. Usually you could play it off then retreat to the bathroom to respond but when he sent a voice recording of that damned deep voice of his, you stood from your desk and went to the stairs corridor to call and cuss him out for getting you bothered at eleven in the morning. You promised punishment as soon as you were off and Kiseok was, to say the least, intrigued. That night he was stunned at how different you could be if he gave you the reigns. Days after that, he still catches himself staring after you with amazement.

From that point on, he pretty much figured out that he could make you do nearly anything with a certain voice. It was a dangerous game that you two played. It only escalated when he coaxed you to touch yourself in the private bathroom at your company with him on FaceTime. You were lucky that you had finished in record-breaking time, before any of your coworkers (or God forbid, your boss) found out what exactly you were doing.

By the time the third week rolled around, Nicole had stopped hounding you for details of your hookups. Instead, she cautioned every now again. Typically, it was the same thing.

"Don't get too attached."

"He's a celebrity. You know how society is to foreigners dating celebs."

"What if he's a player? I just don't want you to get hurt."

While you appreciated her concern, you knew it was already too late not to get attached to him. Other than text you constantly, Kiseok did little things that had your head and heart confused.

On his bad days, he would complain to you about what happened and asked for your advice, if you had any to give, on the topic. He joked and teased you just like a friend would and willingly showed you pieces of his personal and work life as well. It was subtle at first - videos of him in the studio and then pictures of his friends when he was telling you a story about them. Each time, he would bring you food or have something delivered so you both got to learn each other's eating and drinking habits. You had seen him tipsy but he made it a point not to over do it in front of you.

Kiseok was also very considerate of you and your time, which you appreciated more than anything else. He didn't hound you if you didn't text back immediately and understood if you were swamped at the office or had to cancel that one time because the work would not be done until late in the night. He just told you to take care of yourself and later, had a pizza ordered to your job. It was around that time that you noticed you were falling a little too fast. You hadn’t admitted it out-loud, instead you chose to ignore those feelings completely. Hopefully, they would magically disappear into thin air.

You both didn't get into intimate details of your life. It was only by a weird stroke of luck that he hadn't found out about Cookie. She usually called right after you got off work anyway. Kiseok was busy during the day so when you went out to meet with your daughter and her father on your off days, he was in the middle of his own jam-packed schedule. Really, he was only available during the night time so you were more of a booty call than a FWB at this point. Neither of you had defined the "relationship" so far though, so it was hard to put a name to it right now.

It was Saturday when you woke up early and got dressed in casual clothes to go with Cookie to the zoo. Her, her father and his girlfriend were flying back to the US tonight so they wanted to do one last thing to fill the hours before the boring plane ride. You had cried last night as you thought of being without your mini-me for two whole months but his family hadn't seen her since she was much younger. You knew she would have fun, especially since his parents were dying to take her to Disneyland. You wished you could take an extended vacation and go with them but you had used most of your vacation days to take Cookie to Disney World for her birthday and that was only a couple of months ago.

Either way, you were sadder these past two days and thankfully Kiseok was swamped with an upcoming project so he hadn't been over in about four days. You didn't have to explain your blood-shot eyes.

You had so much fun at the zoo with your daughter that you didn't bother touching your phone. Your ex had taken most of the pictures for you all with promises to send them to you. It was around two in the afternoon when you four decided to go to a nearby burger joint and get some lunch. Cookie was shoving her face with chicken tenders so you decided to check your phone to pass the time. There were a few new gray message bubbles.

'Hey sexy thang ;)' 10:09AM

'This song better go double platinum with all the work I'm puttin in this bitch' 11:32AM

'Don't tell me you're asleep still?' 11:38AM

'I'm going to find a way to get your sexy ass as a video vixen one of these days' 11:47AM

'Argggh PD is calling me back. Text me when you wake up' 11:51AM

'We should be done by 2. Loco is taking me to some new place for food then I'm free. Can I swing by your place?' 11:52AM

Of course they were all from Kiseok. Not even your mother texted you as much as he did and although you liked the attention, right now you wanted to focus on Cookie since you won't physically see her for weeks after this. You frowned to yourself, feeling tears well up in your eyes for the millionth time today. You were going to miss her so much.

Composing yourself, you quickly typed a reply back. 'Hey. I'm up, just a little busy today. I won't be able to see you tonight. Maybe tomorrow if you're free?' 2:16PM

With that, you locked your phone and slid it in your pocket, once again forgetting about it soon after.

Your ex's girlfriend, Mia, nudged you slightly when she saw how pensive you were. "Hey, you okay? Was that work?"

Shaking your head, you took a breath, "No, I'm just gonna miss having my best friend around."

Cookie popped up, french fries sticking out of her mouth, "I'm gonna miss you too, mommy!" Her curly hair was pulled into two pony-tails, coils springing happily as she devoured the food in record-breaking time. "Don't cry! I'll make daddy buy you a Tiana dress so we can match!"

You laughed at the sight, tears pooling in your eyes again as her father pouted. "Ok, sweetie, I'd love to match with you."

About thirty minutes later, you all were getting ready to leave when Mia said she'd swing by and grab the rental car from the parking lot. They had to go to back to their hotel to pack. You all said your goodbyes, tears flowing freely between you and Mia. Cookie looked concerned for you as she wiped your tears, kissing your cheeks to reassure you.

Your ex hugged you and thanked you again, his eyes sparkling with happiness to have his precious daughter with him. You wished you could go with them once again as you watched their car drive off.

Back at home, you were greeted with a depressingly quiet apartment. It was cold and dark, something that was going to be a common occurrence for the coming weeks. Sniffling, you made your way to Cookie’s room, scanning her pink room with a blurring gaze. You were slowly walking around the room when you felt your phone ring.

It was Mia.

"Hello?" You called, wondering what could've happened in the last hour since you parted ways.

"Hey, Y/N, Cookie is freaking out because her father forgot to ask you to bring her Peach doll," Mia nearly shouted over the distraught crying in the background. You could hear your ex trying to console Cookie, to no avail. "Can you meet us at the airport with it?"

Searching the room, you spotted the Princess Peach doll on her bed and nearly sprinted out of the door. "I got it. When is your flight again?"

"Boarding is in another hour and a half."

Shit. You scrambled to snatch your keys and shoved the doll in your purse. "Okay, I'll leave now and meet you at departures, okay? Tell Cookie mommy's on the way."

You hung up and made a mad dash down to the parking garage. The airport was about a forty-five minute drive from your place, not including traffic or any other delays like the predictable Seoul rush hour.

At his own apartment, Simon was lounging on his couch, laptop on his chest as he worked. Loco was right next to him, on Face Time with the one and only Jay Park as he was at the airport.

"Have a safe flight," Loco was saying before Kiseok slid shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

"Get there and back in once piece, boss," the oldest one teased and Jay laughed. Unfortunately, he was distracted a little too long because he suddenly collided into a woman. The phone fell, face up and there were suddenly two faces on the screen.

His body guards reacted immediately and made sure the two were alright. Mildly interested, the two on the other side of the line watched on.

"I-I'm so sorry, oh God, I'm just in a rush." The woman's voice was so eerily familiar to Kiseok that he took a second to strain to hear it over the airport commotion.

Jay was off to the side, picking up his passport and other belongings that fell. "Nah, it's alright. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you. Again, I'm so sorry I wasn’t- Is this your phone?"

Without further ado, the woman picked up Jay's phone, and Kiseok felt his eyes bulge out of his skull when her face came into view.

What was Y/N doing in the airport? Loco didn't notice the other's tense reaction and simply waved at the stranger. You didn't seem to glance at the screen, yet they could easily notice your tear-stained cheeks, and just passed it back to the owner.

Over Jay reassuring her that it was fine for the third time, a loud and very male voice yelled. "Y/N! There you are!"

With another apology, you left the frame and turned towards the male voice. Jay watched the interaction for a second before continuing on his way, which was conveniently right past you. Loco was talking to the CEO like that didn't just happen when Kiseok saw you in the frame again. He was positive it was you this time around.

You wore that over-sized gray sweater that he thought was so cute on you, hair tied messily and hugging a handsome foreigner tightly. He pulled back from the hug and pushed back some pieces of your hair from your face before smiling, his lips moving. Staring up to him, you nodded, wiping your face with your sleeves. He brought you back to his chest, arms around your shoulders.

Involuntarily, Kiseok felt his jaw clench at the display of affection. His eyes tore from the phone quicker than he meant to, causing his junior to stare at him in confusion.

For the rest of the night, Loco was warily watching as the older man was fuming next to him. There was hardly any movement from his part and he was sure he was in a coma until Simon wiped out his phone, tapping it a few times before pressing it to his ear.

“Nayoung? It’s been a while. Are you free right now?”

Almost choking on his coke, Hyukwoo coughed. Why was Kiseok calling her, of all people? Once the call wrapped up, he nervously voiced his concern, “Hyung...Why are you calling her at this hour..?”

He didn’t get an immediate response, instead, Kiseok stood and glared with the power of a thousand suns at the TV in front of them.

“Am I not single? Can I not do what I want, with whoever I want, too?”

Without any further explanation, he stormed out of the apartment all together.

Hyukwoo stared after the front door in confusion. “Too?”

[rammaukins]

Shara - The New Latexdoll

IMPORTANTE NOTE: Everything that appears here, in this story, only exists in my mind, anything that resembles reality is coincidence or fortuitous. . .  ( hopefully there will be many of these 🤩,  or not, who knows 😭  ) 

Damn! Where is the Zipper? - Movimento 1

( My gratitude to KunKlo , for his great job of correcting my English and expressions. )

Part 1

On an ordinary Friday afternoon, Shara, a clerk working as a secretary in an advertising company, was strolling around looking at the shop windows of the stores in the commercial district. Like every last Friday of the month, she had put on comfortable clothes that were easy to take off, so that she could easily give in to the temptation to try on a new dress or some other garment and maybe buy it. But what was typical of this day after getting her paycheck, was that today she was going to treat herself to a new pair of high heels.

She was addicted to heels, she had renovated her house to make a dressing room in which half of the space was just for her shoes. And she had her shoes sorted by day of the week, by heel height, by whether she wanted to be more or less comfortable. She had set aside a special place for her most expensive shoes and also her favourites for creating an impression. From that dressing room, without any friend or acquaintance of hers knowing, she had made a few videos for YouTube that she knew would appeal to lovers of heels and fetish fashion. Always avoiding showing her face or any detail that would make someone recognize her.

Today was one of those days when she hoped to be able to buy some shoes that were not run of the mill, that were extravagant, impossible looking, with which she would surely get more followers and thereby improve her earnings. And if she could also find some clothes to impress, so much the better. She even looked in costume shops for porcelain Venetian type masks, not minding if they were made of plastic. If she could further cajole her followers by letting herself be seen completely and still maintaining her anonymity, that would be great.

She wandered the streets of the shopping district, looking into the windows, hoping to see something that would catch her eye. Shara today was also hoping to find something nice to wear this weekend, to get really sexy and seduce again someone she already had in mind. For a moment while she was looking at a lingerie shop, she remembered how that person was running his hands over her skin. Those manly, strong hands, that knew so very well how to excite her body.

Shara walked down several streets, perusing all the shops for possible purchases. She had made a mental note of some of the clothes she had seen and which shops they were in. With the clothes she had some choices, but for now, she couldn't find what she had truly come for. After going into five shoe stores, she couldn't find a pair of shoes that were out of the ordinary. There were sandals of all kinds, shoes of all shapes, heels of all sizes. There were several models, that if you could combine them and create a single pair. . . she would have something worthy to use in her videos. But so, Shara was forced to keep looking, getting a little frustrated.

As she was about to return home, a shop caught her eye. She had never noticed that narrow alleyway in the cyberpunk clothing shopping district, where each shop was more outlandish than the last. If it weren't for the neon lights on the sign, “Your Sin”, she wouldn't have noticed that shop at all. It wasn't the first time she'd been in a sex shop, but it wasn't something she was in the habit of doing. At the moment she was entering, another client was coming out and he gave her a tremendous fright. He was the typical person who didn't care about the opinions of others, dressed in leather clothes, with his chest covered by a torn fishnet t-shirt and, for a man, made up too much, like. . . whatever urban movement he belonged to.

Shara stood watching the man leave, when the shop owner greeted her and invited her in. With some embarrassment she looked back and forth, in case there was another customer, but apart from the shop owner, there was no one else in the store. She took a deep breath and relaxed, and began to feel more comfortable knowing she was on her own. It wasn't her first time in a sex shop, but she didn't feel comfortable buying intimate things in person, preferring the internet. She always felt uncomfortable, when she felt someone's gaze upon her, thinking she knew what they were thinking about her when they bought something. For this reason, she never showed her face in the videos.

Now more relaxed, she began to look at the products on display, and the first thing that caught her eye, was a complicated corset, underbust, with a strap connecting to a collar that was the same shape as the corset. On the collar it said in dark gold letters "Sex Toy". Shara was impressed by the outfit upon closer inspection. Both the corset part and the necklace part had the same design, except for the detail that the neck corset had that characteristic witch's necklace design. Not very high, but high enough to cover the head from behind and limit the view from the sides. It looked like something out of a bad eighties epic-erotic fantasy witch movie, but with a careful and elegant design.

"With that you could charm any man right under your heels." - Shara suddenly heard behind her.

The young woman who was attending the shop, after seeing Shara, noticed right away that she was not a regular shopper in these types of establishments. So she had said that phrase to her, to get her mind focused on something that wasn't so embarrassing, and it seemed to work. Shara relaxed a little more and didn't look around herself so much. She noticed the amazing, shiny, pale pink latex Cheongsam dress with black lotus floral embroidery that the shopkeeper was wearing. She was also wearing a corset-like belt, much like the one Shara had been looking at, but without a collar. The whole outfit was very provocative, giving her a sensual and chic figure.

"Hi. I just wanted to introduce myself, honey. I am called Beky. I can see you're more of an online shopper, so I think I'll leave you a little bit to your own devices to familiarize yourself with the store." - said the shop owner, trying not to scare her.

"Look, down this aisle you'll find some cute outfits, toys are over there, leather clothes here and accessories and bondage items over there. High heels and stripper shoes are here and at the end of that aisle, you can find the most fetish like and the craziest shoes. Let me know when you find something that interests you." - Beky said, pointing down several aisles.

That last bit of information made Shara forget what she was currently looking at. She said thank you and went straight for the shoes. Her inner slutty self had always wanted a pair of stripper shoes to surprise a visitor. She already had more or less a picture in her mind of what she wanted. But when she reached the shoe rack she was overwhelmed by the sheer variety of rare shoes and boots on display. They were mostly available in black, white, red and transparent. The lowest heel was three inches and no platform. There were shoes with thin heels, wide heels, shaped figures, pony-boots and some that immediately caught her attention, the ballet-heels.

They were shaped like ballet shoes, but made of patent leather, on the instep there was a transparent sheet and two straps that crossed in "x" form , another one with a buckle that crossed the instep, and then a much wider strap on the ankle, whose closure had two small rings, to lock it with a small padlock.

"I love them." - she said to herself, marveling at the design and at the same time she was so excited to have found what she was looking for.

Shara had heard of them, and also, she had read comments coming from some of her fans. But until now she had had no interest, mostly because the ones she had seen as an example in a link, sent by one of her followers, was a rather horrendous design. But that pair was anything but hideous, she examined the shoe more closely and there was no doubt that whoever wore that pair of shoes would have to tiptoe like a ballet dancer. That shoe had caught her attention, they were perfect, with an elegant finish, just what she was looking for and she had to have them.

She picked them up and looked for the size of the shoe, and when she looked at the label, it wasn't her size. But then she saw something that further crushed her plan. To her big disappointment, right next to the size of the shoe, was the price of that shoe. It was totally out of her reach. With some annoyance she looked at the rest of the ballet-heels there. And she found some pink booties, vintage design. Shara took a closer look at the boot and the price seemed more reasonable than the shoe.

"It's not as pretty as the other one. . . but it will do." - She said to herself hoping it would have the effect she was looking for.

With the ballet-heels in hand she walked back to the checkout counter where the owner was taking a call. There was an open box next to her, while she was holding up a flesh-colored, see-through latex suit. As Shara waited for the girl to end the call, she couldn't help but overhear her talking about a "LatexDoll" model latex costume from something called "WomanDoll" that she had received. But only one had been delivered and she had ordered ten.

Shara visually examined the box the clerk had on the table. There were two things that caught her attention, right at the bottom of the box it said: "Designed to attract attention and not let anyone recognize you." Then Shara's gaze went to the top of the box, and that slogan captivated her: "Become your own Sex LatexDoll".

to be continued...

tumblr: Shara - The New Latexdoll (Part2) >>

DeviantArt: Shara - The New Latexdoll (part2) >>

Story by Rammaukin

Correction by KunKlo.

If you 😍  it, click on 💗, and we appreciate your comments 👍 , also the criticisms 🤬, although it may and is very likely that, we do not pay attention to them 🧘.

[stars-in-my-universe]

Shoot Your Shot: Tyler Seguin

This is for @isthereamooninthiscountry for her request for Tyler meeting one of mike stud’s model friend and he winds up being super interested in her because she’s hot but she also doesn’t know who he is and he winds up wanting to know her more

Feel free to send in requests guys, I love writing Tyler but I can also do other hockey players as well!

x-x

He had seen her at one of mikes infamous parties, she wasn’t doing anything special, just standing there talking to a group of girls and guys, probably mikes other friends. Tyler never asked about girls, never chased them they always came to him and he never had problems having them come home with him.

But that night she didn’t even spare him a glance, too busy taking drinks from her friends and laughing and watching them play beer bong in Mike’s backyard. Tyler really had tried, he had tried to look at other woman, tried talking them up and flirting but then she would walk by in her low cut halter top and tight jeans. Her brown hair in a high pony tail making her eyes which were underlined with black look a lot fuller and more...prominent. It was her smile that did the hockey player in, she had a shy smile to her but when she laughed he watched as it spread through her whole face making her light up and cover her mouth. 

It was when he was coming out of the bathroom and she was waiting to use it was when he had the pleasure of meeting her. 

“Oh, sorry didn’t think anyone was waiting…” He looked up at her and saw her smiling back at him.

“It’s okay, the other bathrooms were taken as well, this was the one furthest from the crazy. I love Mike but his parties are always overwhelming.” Tyler nodded but he was captivated by how soft her voice was. Everything about her was soft and petite and just...feminine and honestly he was feeling it.

“I’m Tyler, Tyler seguin.” He stuck out his hand making her giggle and shake it. Her nails were painted a blush pink making Tyler curse at himself for taking notice, he really was starting to sound like a stalking in his head.

“You say your name like I’m supposed to know who you are.” He was taken back, most people knew who he was but she, the way she had said it struck his ego, like she had never heard of him or Dallas Stars or hockey in general. He watched as she cocked her head to the side.

“Well if you’ll excuse me,��� She pushed past him and closed the bathroom door making Tyler stare at the spot where she was. Instead of waiting for her he went back downstairs to find Mike and ask him who the hell she was.

“Oh, the cute brunette, kind of tall? Dark brown eyes?” Tyler nodded.

“That’s a Y/n. She’s a friend of mine, she’s done some video shoots for a couple of videos and has done a lot of modeling In Italy. She recently came back this year.” It made sense as to why she was gorgeous, but as Tyler searched the rest of the party for her to talk to her more, he realized he was too late she must’ve left and he never felt dumber then he had in that moment.

Days had passed, he went back to practice and hockey but some nights he couldn’t get her out of his head, the softness of her voice or the way she had smiled at him. Maybe it was the way she had no idea of who he was or how she had no interest in him that made Tyler call Mike and beg for her number.

“Dude, really? She’s hot but geez Seggs I didn’t think you’d be this smitten.”

“Are you going to give me her number or not?” Tyler knew how this all sounded but he just wanted to know if he was going to have a chance or not.

“I won’t give you her number cause I don’t know which phone she’s using right now but I’ll give you her instagram.” It was better than nothing.

Which is how Tyler found himself sitting on his couch, all three dogs on the floor asleep by his feet, an old episode of friends playing in the background as he stared at his instagram staring at her profile, her photo one of her smiling into the camera in front of the Colosseum in Rome. Her profile was public so he had already scrolled through, looking at the different places she’s been. Rome, Paris, some places in Germany he couldn’t pronounce. Then she had some photos of her photo shoots, some for clothes, some for bathing suits, even one here and there for italian cars. She seemed to be laughing in a lot of her photos which he assumed were behind the scenes shots. 

Sighing, he felt the nerves in his stomach as he pressed follow on her profile and then locked his phone. He didn’t want to wait for a follow back or if she even noticed that he had followed her.

Another hour or so had past and he was about to call it a night when his phone lit up with an instagram notification. He tried not to jump at it but he quickly unlocked the phone and opened the app immediately pressing his dm’s and he felt his nerves come back.

There was a message from her at the top of the Dm’s. He pressed it and laughed to himself.

It wasn’t anything intense just a simple ‘So you finally found me?’ with a blushy face. 

Tyler immediately responded whether or not it made him seem desperate.

‘Were you waiting for me?’  

‘It’s not every day a cute hockey player strikes up a conversation but doesn’t get my number let alone my name.’

So she did know who he was.

‘I thought you didn’t know who I was?’ 

‘I never said that, you gotta listen Tyler, you’re not the only one in the conversation.’ She sent a winky face at the end. Oh hell yeah, he could definitely get used to her. When he didn’t respond right away she sent another message.

‘So when you going to ask for my number and ask me out, MIke might’ve mentioned something.’ Tyler felt himself blush even though there was no one around.

‘You want to give me your number so I can ask you out?’ She immediately responded with her number.

‘I’m a photo shoot tonight, call me tomorrow, shoot your shot all star.” Tyler saved the number to his phone and closed the app. Laying back down on the couch, a lot less tense then before, he sighed and closed his eyes.

‘Maybe he did have a shot.’

[angeldolanx]

Chapter 7. /- play video games all day/

06.06.'19

Grayson

do you have plans for today?

I bit my lip when I saw his name popping up on my screen. I wasn't expected him to massage me at all.

Me

not really, I only need to go to work at 3 pm. I am trying to make my mom proud and bake some cookies.

Grayson

you should come over maybe, and bring some cookies:)

Me

I am not sure if it's gonna be eatable, but I am going after it's done xx

After our massages Grayson sent their address, and my stomach immediately flipped when I realized that I am gonna see him again. Till the cookies were in the oven I put on a light makeup and stood for a few long minutes in front of my wardrobe to figure out what should I wear. I ended up wearing a white high waisted jogger with a white, ribbed bardot top. I even put my hair in a pony tail since I was way too lazy to wash it.

In my uber I sent Corinna a quick massage. It was funny how I already planned going over to her house tonight to tell her what happened on my rooftop with Grayson, but maybe that story is gonna be even more longer, since I am on my way to the twins's house. Of course it made her freak out. It’s always made me smile how excited she got every time when it was about my love life.

I took a deep sigh before I knocked on the door. This neighborhood were pretty, and kind of chill compared to the fact that we were still in the busy LA.

"Hey, what's up?" opened Ethan the door and pulled me closer for a quick hug.

"Hi, I brought cookies" I lifted my hands with the box in it, that made her eyes sparkle up and invited me to the house. " I am not sure if it's the best though. I tried it and I think it's fine" I giggled. It was my grandma's recipe and she always told us that this is a recipe you can't mess up because it's so easy. It was true to be honest, I just needed to mix the ingredients and put it to the oven, but I was still not sure about my baking skills.

"That's so good " looked down at me Ethan, after he took a bite. I just smiled how much he loved it while I looked around in the kitchen/living room area. Compared to the fact that only boys lived there, their house was tidy. The walls were mostly white and looked really good next to the light wood ceiling.

"Grayson?" I asked finally. I wanted to ask this in like the first one minute, but I didn't wanted to seem like a creep.

"He went out for cafe, he is gonna be back soon" he said and I decided to not to say anything of that cheeky smile that spread on his face after my question.

"And you, what are you up to?"

"To be honest I just failed a match in Fortnite because of you" he rolled his eyes.

"I brought cookies, you can't say anything" I laughed while I followed him to his room. " I never really understood the hype for Fortnite, I loved PUBG more" I sat down to his bed while he sat in front of the computer where the game was opened.

"I never tried that"

"It's similar to Fortnite, but the graphic is more realistic" I explained.

"Who would've thought that you are a gamer girl" laughed Ethan. Probably for most of the people who knows me that's not a surprise. I always said that I am a half boy. There are some days when I could dress like a boy, and there are days when I dress cute and girly. It honestly depends on my mood. It was funny how curious Ethan got about the game and he immediately went online to buy the PlayerUnknown's Battlegrounds game, and waited for it to download. "What did you do with Grayson on saturday? He doesn't said anything when I asked."

"Someone is really curious" I grinned. "We just talked and didn't really saw what time it was"

As soon as the video game downloaded Ethan jumped on it and I just smiled while I sat closer to the edge of the bed to see what he is doing. After he created a character he gave me the controller because I guess he was way too interested in my gaming skills.

"The last time I played was months ago, don't expect too much" I said and tried to concentrate on the screen to pick up weapons and other stuff in the house. It was funny how I talked about weapons and stuff and got all excited for the game. That was the real me. Sometimes I like playing with make up or buy sexy lingeries, but at the same time I love these things too that are not "normal" for most girls. "Wait someone is here in the house"

"How do you know?"

"You can hear the steps if he is close enough, or even see the steps on the map" I pointed to the corner, where the map was on the screen.

'Wow, nice" said Ethan after I killed the boy in the house. In the meantime I heard real door opening from outside, probably Grayson finally got home.

" E?" shouted Grayson and I flinched for a second as Ethan started to scream next to my ear to him. I immediately started to laugh when Grayson stepped to the room to give Ethan his cafe and got surprised when he found me there.

"You literally look like you caught us having sex or something" I shook my head and Ethan started to laugh on my words.

"Hi to you too" he grunted, probably because I turned back to look at the screen again instead of him.

"I finish this round and then I'm yours okay?" I looked up at him under my lashes and he just sighed.

"I am gonna be in the gym" he left the room and even the way he talked I could tell that he doesn't really liked again how I acted. He was like a child, who throws a tantrum when he doesn't gets enough attention.

I really tried to win the round, while kept tried to answer to E's questions about the game. I ended up in the third place, maybe in a another round I would win but in this it was obvious that I didn't played in a long time.

"Oh yeah, you are not a pro but still ended up in the third place for the first time in months" said Ethan after I turned to his direction.

"I just knew the map, in the newer ones I am a noob" I shrugged my shoulders and gave him my seat and the controller. " Can you please show me where is your brother?" I asked and he just nodded with a big grin on his face. I chuckled as he stole a another cookie from the kitchen on the way while he brought me out to the other side of the house. Loud music came from behind the door so I felt like it's unnecessary to knock and I just opened the door to step inside the gym and closed it behind me. Grayson laid in front of the door in the dynamometer and lifted two barbells. After he realized that I came he put them to the floor and sat up. Don't look down, don't look down. I kept tried to hold myself back since he was shirtless, his whole body was shiny from the sweat and his muscles were even more visible because of the workout. I don't know if I would rather go out from here, or just go to sit on his lap and kiss him till he can't breathe.

"Did you got bored of Ethan?" he asked derisively.

"You invited me to come over and you wasn't home, I only spent 15 minutes with him" I sighed and sat down to a work out equipment that was next to me.

"Not like you was happy when you saw me."

"Stop acting like this " I pouted to show my cute form even more. I wasn't really in the mood to act like in the diner with him, especially since the things he said were silly. In the meantime I just realized where I sat down. I never in my life was in a gym, since I am way too lazy, so I put my hand to the to side and tried to close them in front of me, but since it was probably set for Grayson's wight I wasn't even able to move it. Grayson just laughed at my trying and to be honest that's the only thing that I could do too. "Don't laugh, I am strong."

"Oh yeah, I see"

"It's just set up for bodybuilders like you " I rolled my eyes that made my eyes move to his arms, that he noticed and he lifted his arms up to show his muscles with a cheeky smile on his face. "Amazing, I am way too lazy for things like this " I said and stood up to check my body in the mirror that was next to Grayson. "I shouldn't be though."

"Well if we see it like this, you don't need it" he said and as I looked at him from the mirror I saw how his eyes were on my ass and smiled when he realized I caught him. The air around us got hotter and I hated how much impact he had over my body even without touching me.

"Why are you jealous of your brother if I talk to him?" I asked and stood in front of him. It was weird how now he was the one who looked up at me while he was only within reach. I really tried to hold back this question but of course it's me, who is never able to hold back anything.

"It's not about him, he is the most important person in my life I am not jealous. It's just annoys me that I feel like you are more open to him than to me" he said.

"That's not true" I shook my head. It was just easier to talk to Ethan, there wasn't this tingly feeling that come up every time he was next to me and I always a lot more tense when it's about him. I can talk to Ethan about anything without thinking too much of it, but with Grayson it's different. "How long does this takes to you?"

"Twenty minutes, you can go out to E if you want to"

"I'm staying" I sat back down with a big smile on my face. I wasn't planned to toss a opportunity to stare at him as he works out for twenty minutes. He just smiled at me and laid back again to grab the barbells again, and I took out my phone from my pocket and only looked up at him a few times while I looked around on twitter and instagram. If I would go to a gym to be honest, I would probably do the same thing.

After he finished he went to the bathroom to take a shower and I joined Ethan in the living room. From the casual talking another video game party started, but now Grayson joined us too. They tried to teach me how to play Mario Kart against them. The whole living room was filled with our loud laughs.

"You have such a nice view from here " I said after we went out to the their yard and I looked to the city behind the pool. The two boys sat down to the chairs next to the door and I even blushed a little bit as they both gazed at me. I was sure they talked about me while I didn't heard them.

"Are you hungry?" asked Ethan.

"Nah, I need to go to work and I wanna go home before that to change" I said and stood from my other leg next to them and put my hands in my pockets.

"What's wrong with this outfit?" asked Grayson and his eyes probably not for the first time today moved up and down on my body before he looked into my eyes.

"This top is a little bit dangerous next to a four years old to play" I laughed.

"Do you wanna sit down?" asked Ethan and I just shook my head to stay, before Grayson grabbed my wrist. I looked down at him with a confused look, but I understood what he wanted when he pulled me down to sit on his lap. I am pretty sure I forgot how to breathe properly in those minutes and even after I moved around a bit to put my weight more to one of his legs so I can see him too while we talked.

"Tell me if I am too heavy" I looked back at him. His face was really close to mine and my body kept reacted to the fact, that we touched in a lot of places.

"Omg Mira, I probably will" he sighed sarcastically and put his hands on the lover half of my thigh next to my knee. This movement was enough to let my fantasy to fly and I bit my lip and looked to the pool direction to stop my thoughts about his hands moving up.

"How long do you stay in LA?" asket Ethan that snapped me back to reality again.

"Till next december"

"Only till then?" asked Gray and I just nodded.

"That's not too long" added Ethan. "When we finally find a girl who plays Mario Kart with us, she only stays for two years. That's sucks" granted Ethan and made me laugh with his words. Even the thought that Grayson feels how my body shakes from the laughs or he can feel basically anything made me feel some type of way and it was really hard to stay put together and not show anything of these things.

"Two years is a long time, I have a bucket list with some crazy shit. Even if I check a few things I am gonna go home happy " I said with a smile.

"Like what?" asked Grayson.

"There is a few 'everyday' thing, like see the Hollywood sign at night and stuff and there are a few crazier one too, and I am not gonna tell those" I said and even the thought that he reads it made me blush.

As Ethan started to tell a story about one of his friend, who wrote a bucket list for a trip too I slowly started to zone out and didn't even realized how I started to play with Grayson's bracelets that were on his wrists on my thigh.First I moved around my fingers on it, but when accidentally touched his skin I know I was right and his skin was as soft as I pictured it. For a moment the breath got caught in my throat when I bumped into his eyes as he smiled while watched my movements. Because I got embarrassed I started to move around in his lap and when he grabbed my thigh and saw how his face flinched I blushed even more and looked away from his eyes to bit my lip and to calm down. I just needed to delete from my mind how much impact he had on me and on my body, and how close I am to him and at the same time still far away. He was still almost a stranger for me who kept attracted me more and more. I felt like I started to lose my mind because of him.

"It's crazy, right?" asked Ethan and I was glad Grayson at least listened to his story and was able to talk to him.

After I checked my phone and saw what time is it I realized it's time for me to go.As much as I would enjoy sit there in Grayson's lap for hours I needed to call a über and stand up from his lap to grab my stuff. I said bye to Ethan in the yard with a big hug, while Grayson came with me to the front door. Before I opened it I leaned against it and looked up at Grayson. God I wanted to kiss him so bed when my eyes moved to his lips and I saw how pink and plump and soft they looked. When a light smile spread on his lips I looked up to his eyes immediately and bit my lip because he probably noticed what I just did.

"Are you free tonight?" he asked. My inner goddess immediately picked out a sexy lingerie from her wardrobe and moved around in front of the mirror in it, but sat down disappointed to the bed when she heard my response.

"I wanted to go over to Corinna's, but if you offer something better I'm gonna think about it" I said with a cheeky smile on my face. He just chuckled on my words and run through his hand on his hair.

"Everyone needs to see the Hollywood sign, if they come to Los Angeles, right?" he asked and put his hands to his jogger's pockets.

"If you make my wishes come true like that I am gonna tell more things from my list too" I laughed.

"Deal" he said immediately. "I pick you up at nine, okay?".

"Yeah" I nodded and before anything could turn awkward I stood closer to him and left a quick kiss on his cheeks, before I opened the door and left the house.

On that day I already knew that Grayson Dolan is gonna mess up my days in Los Angeles. I could feel how my cold heart started to scratch when he was closer to me and I was already afraid if it's starts to melt. Yes at this points after all these single years I felt like my heart is frozen and someone really needed to impress me to even start to stretch it. I hated myself when I even thought about that maybe he would be able to melt it. He, who could get millions of girls. Why would he even bothered? I really should start to really grow up and don't believe in fairy tales. I should just go and see what happens without expecting anything. I should laugh, cry, kiss, have sex till I am young and I could do anything.

These thoughts really made me realize that I really should live like this at least in this two years. Being wild and free as much as I can without overthinking anything. I am gonna close out the fears from my mind, and gonna do things that I never did before.I am gonna believe in myself. These thoughts could probably come like 10 minutes earlier, maybe I would have actually kiss Grayson in the door, but I was afraid to do it in that moment. Whatever. There is new Mira who wanna have fun in the next two years in America. And she hopes she really will.

- play videogames all day √

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 44/45

The chapter count drastically went down, I somehow counted them wrong at first !!!

”Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

July 10, 9:00 AM

Galen Erso walked through the sliding doors at the foot of a monolithic glass tower overlooking San Francisco Bay. The gate emitted a welcome beep as he pressed his badge to the reader, and walked towards the elevators, his cup of coffee in hand. His face was pallid, unfortunately accentuating his bloodshot eyes and dark circles. The elevator emptied floor after floor and he was alone in the cabin as the counter hit fifteen. The doors were creeping to a close, when suddenly a silk-gloved hand interrupted their progress.

Galen nearly spat out his coffee at the sight of Armitage Hux, dressed in an immaculate black suit with his hair slicked back into a neat red swoop.

“Hello, Galen Erso” he said politely as he walked in, trying to sound natural as he eyed the other man’s badge.

******

Hux turned his head a fraction to glance at the truly unkempt employee in the elevator. His upper lip twisted in a grimace of disgust. Whoever Galen Erso was, he did not deign to answer his greeting.

The shabby stranger went all the way up to the twenty-seventh floor, home of the engineering and IT departments. Hux’s brain was still processing when he left; he was vaguely sure he had passed this idiot in the hall before. Additionally, if he managed to remember the name of his supervisor, he would be able to send a warning for egregious violation of dress code.

In the meantime, he had other concerns.

Phasma had not shown up to his office at eight o'clock, despite her usually exemplary punctuality. It was abnormal, something must have happened. Even more alarming, her phone went directly to voicemail every time.

But it had been an hour—barely an hour—since he last heard from her, and it could easily be nothing.

Syed Ren wasn’t responding either, and had been MIA for a few days; Hux knew with near certainty that she must have been silenced by the other Knights of Ren. Skylar Ren was no longer of any use to him at all. The bastard was currently strapped to a chair in the basement, where he kept repeating that he had never sent the message to Valorum, that he was framed. In absolute terms, it was a credible story. But whether he had sent the message himself or not, he was already guilty of recording such a video and keeping it.

And where the hell was Kylo Ren? The Director of Operations was apparently no longer operating. They’d lost track of him in Nevada. All the roads led to Wells, an insignificant desert outcrop which was now the final scene of a disappearing act. It was there that Kelsi Ren's empty Lincoln had been found, and where Syed’s SUV had vanished. It was also where agents last sighted Earth Soldiers debutante Rey Jakku. Some witnesses even report that they saw Kylo Ren himself there, or at least someone who looked like him. Given that Kylo was still rockstar royalty in the eyes of most people, Hux was inclined to believe that the risk of misidentification was low.

On precisely July 8th, everyone in that godforsaken desert had disappeared without a trace.

At first, Hux was incredulous enough to wonder if an alien abduction had occurred. A flying saucer, a ray of light, and presto, their bodies would be floating around in the ether.

It would suit him perfectly, actually. Because what worried him most wasn't really that Syed, Kylo, or Rey had disappeared. It was what they would probably return one day. And his instincts told him that when they reappeared all hell would break loose.

He stepped out of the elevator and strode to his desk, removing one glove with his right hand.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed Kylo Ren's cell number. He picked up for once.

“Seven hells, Kylo, what do you think you’re doing?!” He yelled. “Have you forgotten that until further notice, you are bound by contract to the First Order? Your sorry arse better be in my office before noon!”

“Mr. Solo is not available,” said a male voice Hux didn’t immediately recognize. “And to whom do I have the honor of speaking? Armitage Hux I presume?”

He froze, shocked. “Who are you? Get me Kylo Ren right away!”

“You may call me Master Windu. Congratulations on your impressive career, Armitage. I always knew that you had the means to channel your ambition. Unfortunately Mr. Solo no longer answers this number, I take care of that now. What you say to him, you can say to me. I take my client's privacy very seriously.”

Armitage hung up.

Master Windu half-smiled as he handed the device to Ben Solo.

“What did he want?” Ben asked, taking the phone.

“To threaten or blackmail you, probably. Nothing he can really do anyway, now that I'm here. In your interest, Mr. Solo, I forbid you to answer the phone from now on, until further notice. You don't know who’s recording what. All your communications will have to go through me.”

Ben Solo nodded, moistening his lips.

“You received a text earlier,” added the lawyer. “I erased it. No more texts, understand?”

“Who was it?” Ben asked, his heart pounding suddenly.

“Rey something or other. It was quite romantic too. You haven't forgotten to mention a mistress to me, I hope?”

“It's none of your business,” Ben muttered defensively, fighting the blush rising to his cheeks. “It’s unrelated to the case. Your services don’t come with an abstinence clause, do they?”

Mace Windu took a step forward. He was just as tall as Ben, his deep brown complexion drawing even more attention to his muscular frame. He turned his immaculately shaved head, his gaze piercing the young man and evaporating any pretense of confidence. For once, Ben was outmatched. He had long been used to overtaking everyone, physically or otherwise, watching them shrink in his presence. There was something new and intimidating about standing in front of someone of the same height, eye to eye. It would be perfect for the trial, but presently he felt like a kid being called out in class.

“Absolutely everything is my business. And especially the girls you fuck. Lest you find yourself with a honey trap who’ll make a confessional out of your pillowtalk. Additionally, I'll be keeping your phone.”

That hit too close to home. What if Rey had been a honey trap, sleeping with him for gain? The thought made his stomach churn.

He suddenly felt unhappy, and helpless. He’d gotten used to the idea of not seeing Rey again until she left, maybe until the trial ended, and maybe even a few months after that, just to be safe. But he had counted on their calls and texts. Didn't he promise to call her every day? Would she understand the circumstances that prevented him from answering her? She was smart. She would understand. As long as she didn’t think he was pulling anything (or anyone, he shuddered). He’d gone through a lot to gain her trust again after his betrayal at the camp that night. Their relationship wouldn't survive any  more lies.

The lawyer glanced at his watch, a fine Breitling.

“We have two hours left to review the situation, then we'll go to lunch. The rendezvous at the courthouse is at 2 o’clock. Whatever happens, you let me speak.”

Windu had reserved a meeting room in the San Francisco courthouse. Beside him, in front of a large lacquered wooden table, sat Ben Solo, in a suit and tie, newly clean shaven. He silently  twiddled his thumbs while waiting for the others.

The door opened and they both stood up.

Although he was prepared, Ben paled when he saw Amilyn Holdo enter. And behind her, the slender figure of his mother.

They shook hands.

His mother's hand was tiny, soft and warm, but firm. He quickly withdrew his own handzz a; he was more overwhelmed than he wanted to admit.

She sought his gaze but he looked away.

“Thank you for attending this interview,” began Ben’s lawyer, “were you able to take note of the documents that I sent you this morning?”

“Yes, but we hardly had time to review all of them,” Holdo replied.

There was a silence. Master Windu waved his hand impatiently. “And? What do you think of our proposal?”

“Following his appeal, I advised Mr. Erso to involve his own lawyer. But the offer deserves reflection nonetheless. After much discussion, we agree that this is a positive development for my client—or rather his sister—who will also represent Mr. Erso’s interests in this meeting.”

Ben Solo rolled his eyes. This conversation bored him already. He’d never been able to sit still behind a desk. Windu expected him to stay there all prim and polished like some kind of show pony. He hated the formality. Justice this, Mister that, the colleague in charge of representing the interests of whatshername...

He stood up.

Mace Windu frowned. “Where are you going?”

“To smoke.” Ben grunted. “Either way, you’re the one talking. Gimme a summary sometime.”

“I'm keeping the phone,” Windu annunciated.

“Lucky for me, I don't smoke phones.”

Without waiting for an answer, he left. Leia stood up too. Amylin Holdo put a hand on her arm. “No, Leia, stay. Let me handle this. Don’t talk to him.”

But Leia pulled it away. “He's my son, Amylin!”

Her dress swished as she left the room in turn. The two lawyers rolled their eyes, both knowing that nothing good would come of this. Mace Windu laid out the stack of documents on the table in front of him.

“Let's start over,” he said.

Ben walked down the flight of stairs at the entrance to the courthouse and sat down to light his cigarette.

His little excuse had worked, but his phone was still missing. He desperately wanted to call Rey. He wanted to hear her tell him that everything would be fine. He could say a few naughty words to make her blush and hear her chuckle.

He didn't even realize he was smiling. But his smile froze when he heard his name being called from behind.

“Ben!”

It was his mother.

His heart hammered. The hand that held his cigarette trembled imperceptibly. He turned around. She came towards him, slowly descending the steps with the help of her cane. In his memories, she was this indestructible superwoman, an infallible force of nature with shining chesnut hair.

In front of him stood an old, greying woman with weary eyes, leaning heavily on her cane.

His heart sank.

He said nothing, lips sealed tight. She walked closer, reaching out to touch him, but he stepped back abruptly.

“Did you come here to tell me you forgive me?” he spat, “that you want to save my soul?”

Leia shook her head, but he continued.

“You always knew, didn't you? That history would prove you right. That I wouldn't make it one day.”

A tear beaded on the old woman's cheek.The words were stuck in her throat. She felt like she was seeing her son for the first time. She found him tall, and handsome. He got it from his father. A wave of tenderness swept over her.

“Ben Solo-Skywalker,” she said softly, “I’m proud of the man you’ve become. I know I can't take credit myself—I wasn’t there. I was never there. But I see you now and I'm proud of you.”

He had planned everything. He had prepared for this confrontation a million times. He had repeated the words he had saved for this moment so many times that he lost count. But nothing was going as planned.

“You don't know anything about me,” he stammered, taken aback.

”That’s true, and I regret it.” Rey was telling me about how you’re always smiling and I...I can't remember the last time I saw you smile. I realized that I missed out on the most important part. I’m sorry, for all this time.”

“It's too late,” Ben croaked, troubled by his mother's sudden vulnerability, “we can't go back.”

“We can’t change the past, but the future remains. As long as I'm alive to watch you grow, then it's not too late. I'm tired, Ben. I won't be here for long.”

Ben managed a small laugh tinged with disdain. “So that’s what it is, it's not my soul you want to save, it's your own!”

The old woman's shoulders slumped. “I failed a lot of people in life, and you more than anyone. I'm sorry.”

“Save it. That's not going to stop you from doing everything you can to get me locked up for the rest of my life,” Ben said, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“It's not against you. It was never against you. Ben, I’ve tried all my life to protect you.”

“And it’s been very effective,” he hissed.

Leia smiled. “And I was wrong, you don't need to be protected. You do very well on your own. And even better when it’s the two of you.”

Ben raised an eyebrow.

“I sat down with Rey,” she explained. “I saw the glimmer in her eyes. The same one you had just now, when I mentioned her name.”

He pretended to know nothing. He didn’t want to know what his mother knew, or imagined, about his relationship with Rey.

“And I wanted to thank you,” she went on. “You were the one who drove Rey, safe and sound, to Winnemucca. Isn’t that right? So you knew what she was carrying, and the consequences. You could have stopped her half a dozen times, but you didn't.”

“I didn't do it for you,” he cut off, uncomfortable with where this conversation was going.

“I know. But it wasn’t for you either. It was for another reason, the best of reasons. And even if I regret the consequences for your future, I'm glad you did it.”

She reached out again to take his hand, and this time he let her.

“I know,” she said again, “that you sacrificed yourself for her. I understand what it has already cost you, and that it will cost you again.”

“I would do it again without thinking twice.”

“No doubt about it. And that's why I want to help you. Holdo will negotiate with Mace Windu to help you. We’ll fight this, together, and get you out of this trial with your head held high.”

Leia could never pass up an underdog, could she? Even as a widow, and mother of an orphan. She was exhausting.

“I'm not one of your lost causes, Mom. I don't want you to treat me with whatever cocktail of pity and lofty grace you save for the others. I’m a grown man, I know what I’m doing, and it’s going fine. I take responsibility for the consequences of my actions.”

Of all the words that came out of his mouth, the only thing Leia heard was that he had called her "Mom". She stifled her tears.

“Okay. I trust you,” she said.

“Thank you.”

He threw away his cigarette and crushed it under his sole. They were done here. She turned to go back inside, but stopped when he yelled from behind:

“Wait!”

“Yes?”

“Can I borrow your phone for five minutes?”

*******

Everything was going smoothly.

Rey put her phone back in her pocket, a smile on her face.

She was sure this was the last time she could speak to him in...a long while, but she didn't feel sad. A strange sense of serenity overtook her..

Ben Solo had spoken to his mother.

Even better, he had called her from his mother's phone. It would take time, but the curse was finally broken. They would talk to each other. They both had a lifetime to make up for. Against all odds, the trial that threatened to tear them apart forever was going to bring them together.

He’d asked her where she was staying. Vertigo Hotel, Union Square.

“I'll meet you there.”

She knew he would. Probably in the middle of the night, escaping the watchful eye of his lawyer to join her in the literal flesh. Both of them like lovesick teenagers, who snuck out of their bedrooms at night because being apart for more than a few hours was unbearable.

He no longer had a phone, at least until the trial, probably longer. It didn't matter, she wasn't worried. She didn’t doubt him. Her friends would think her naïve—but no one could understand the depth of their relationship. Within days, he’d sacrificed everything for her, and she’d fought for him too. There was something intoxicating about their bond, almost mystical, like the blood ties in ancient lore. Lestat and Akasha, Tristan and Iseult, or Hades bewitching Persephone.

She had no doubt that he would return to her when the time came. First he had to rebuild his life. Brick by brick. And she would be there for him after.

BB8 nuzzled against her leg, the happiest furball alive. They were leaving the vet again.

They had jumped through all the hoops to make sure BB could travel now: vaccines, certificates, a shiny new carrier. Rey had the best souvenir she could hope for from the States—so much better than a few measly postcards!

The look on Jessika’s face would be priceless. Rey could just imagine it:

Hey, I’ve got a new dog. But not just any dog, this one saved my life on multiple occasions and went on a secret road trip with me to escape a bunch of violent criminals, anyway how are you?

Leaving BB behind would have been unthinkable.

Rey took a few more steps, finding herself in the middle of the Golden Gate Bridge. Everything was perfect right now. The warmth of the afternoon sun on her skin, the blue skyline of San Francisco in the distance. The crisp white sails of the boats lazing in the bay, the endless horizon of the Pacific reaching into the vastness of the sky. The bright towers of the bridge, grand monuments to the creativity of mankind, connecting the sky and earth, bay and sea, mountains and cityscapes. The salty breeze on her face and the wind in her hair. When she closed her eyes, it almost felt like a caress.

Everything was perfect.The world was in total harmony. Her heart was finally at peace.

Her phone vibrated.

It was a text from Poe: Finn just woke up.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

About your YouTuber! Percy hc, do you think he would actually know everyone subscribed to him because of the weird background shenanigans or do you think that he’s think they all just find him funny?

okay, I actually have made some more Executive Decisions since I posted that, so let’s just make it clear that:

Percy spent maybe half a day thinking ‘wow I knew I was valid in thinking my girlfriend and sister deserve to be famous’ just because he genuinely hadn’t registered the monster-sized dog or nico crawling out from the shadows behind him as ‘weird’ at first, but then he started reading the comments and was like…..ah,

Annabeth wanted him to immediately delete the videos but he was just like ‘nah it’s too late now we might as well commit’ and started planning his next video lmao. he still didn’t think it was gonna get like, Big tho

demigods and technology don’t mix this is true but by this time the Hephaestus and Athena AND Vulcan kids were all very disgruntled by this and collabed on making a line of products that are monster proof, halfblood suitable, and Hephaestus approved. Percy is using a camera in this line, and that’s why mortals watching his videos aren’t getting blocked by the mist, because….shut up, I said so lol

so again, his videos are mostly tame except for just a few small ‘wtf’ things happening in the background, but it’s enough to get people circulating his videos like ‘hey what the fuck is going on with this guy’ and he gets more and more followers impatiently waiting for updates

after about five months, and article gets posted on buzzfeed about the videos, listing a few theories like, a) it’s photoshopped and cgi-d, although they claim they sent a few clips to video analysists that can’t find any thing fake, and b) this boy is being terrorized by ghosts and demons and he just hasn’t noticed them on camera for some fucking reason, and c) Maybe Us, The Viewers Are The Crazy Ones and d) He’s In Danger And Sending Coded Messages And We Need To Rally Together To Help Him

it trends and his followers SPIKE so Percy decides he should probably do a Q&A and everyone gets hype

except

it’s Percy

He’s sitting on his bed in an orange shirt, but the writing on it is mostly obscured by a blanket. You can JUST see the tip of a spear on the wall above him.  There’s a large cut on the side of his head. He’s got a clear glass of some golden liquid he’s sipping from every now and then. There’s an aquarium on the table next to him, but all the fish in the tank are huddled in the same side, staring at him??? Annabeth is sitting next to him, but she’s not looking into the camera, she’s reading a book, and you can see the cover clearly on screen but no one is able to figure out what language it’s in??? at one point during the video, you hear a horse neighing even though he’s in his fourth floor city apartment and his stepfather comes in to tell him ‘blackjack’s in the kitchen make him leave’

but other than that, everyone tuned into this video excited to get answers….but all the answers Percy gives are like ‘Oh, Estelle is 10 months old! she’s getting so big!’ and ‘Annabeth and I met when we were 12′ and ‘I’m looking at colleges in California but I haven’t committed anywhere yet’ and ‘my favorite subject in school is math’

In the middle of the video he read a question ‘please what is up with that dude that keeps crawling out of your fucking walls p l e ase’ and he responds ‘Oh! That’s my cousin Nico! :)’ and then moves back to the tame boring questions sdkjnckdvm

The very last minute of the video, he reads a question asking if he’s possessed and he’s like ‘No, not anymore’ and Annabeth fucking snorts, the first acknowledgement she’s given the whole q&a. the video immediately just ends there, he doesn’t do a sign off or anything

people FLIP

and the next day he’s just back to posting his usual content. this time features a shot of him walking in a rainstorm, to hood no umbrella, completely fucking dry

youtube drama channels are covering every single video he posts. conspiracy theorists are going fucking wild.

one of these youtube conspiracy channels is 100% run by Leo Valdez. He’s having the time of his goddamn life throwing bullshit out there

Piper McLean 100% has her own channel dedicated to debunking everything Leo says on his channel. They’ve been doing this dance since 9th grade and all of their viewers think they fucking hate each other it’s hilarious to them

so SHE points out that not only are Leo’s theories stupid, but he’s been spotted in Percy’s videos! And he was on fire in one of them! Hello???

Someone then tweets her that SHE’S been spotted in Percy’s videos, a few of them the same ones Leo was in, and she responds to the callout with a Mariah Carey gif and goes silent on twitter for three months

Leo starts insisting that’s Definitely Not Him In Percy’s Videos, Thank You, How Dare You Accuse Me Associating With Not Only The Demonic Forces That Follow Him But Also Piper McLean

Percy tweets out a picture of the 7, featuring Leo and Piper hugging and looking like best friends. Leo responds with a Joanne the Scammer gif and also goes quiet on twitter but keeps making ridiculous conspiracy videos lmao

On screen: ‘Hey, Paul, the internet thinks I’m in league with supernatural forces. What do you think about that?’ *camera slowly zooms in on Paul’s tired face as he looks up from reading a book on the Greek god Poseidon*

everyone realizes one of Percy’s mortal friends from school is also a youtuber so they BOMBARD him and he’s just like ‘Listen Percy just….fucking lives like this. he’s not planning anything. He disappears all the time and comes back covered in burns. one time I went in his apartment without calling first and he met me in the living room with a shield and a sword. Sometimes carriage horses in the city get loose and just follow him around and he holds conversations with them. I think his dad is in the mob. He just lives like this. We just got used to it’ sjkdgkjldsklsd

Percy posts a video called ‘skateboarding down my camps climbing wall!!’ and every comment is ‘WHY IS THERE L A V A?!?!?!?!?’

A video where he sees just How Much he can annoy Chiron and Mr. D before he gets threatened with dolphin-ism. It doesn’t take long, but everyone ignores the guy with glowing eyes yelling about how he’s going to change him into a sea creature in favor of focusing in on the fucking leopard head mounted on the wall that’s moving, roaring and being fed snacks??? 

Rachel goes into Oracle mode and gives out a prophecy in the middle of a live stream and Percy just sighs in annoyance while all the viewers are flipping out like hello isn’t she one of the richest people in the world???

the viewers start trying to decipher the prophecy like they think it’s all planned and Percy’s just slowly dropping some lemony snickett bullshit on them

his videos are ALWAYS trending and he’s one of the most popular vloggers and it’s so funny because 90% of the videos are literally just ‘taking my sister to the park!’ ‘date night with my girlfriend!’ ‘swim team awards ceremony!’ ‘I forgot to study for my history exam!’ like just. the most fucking generic but people are sucked in lmao

He does monthly q&a’s but they mostly go the same way the original one did 

‘what’s with the fucking guy who’s half donkey???’ ‘Grover identifies as a goat, actually, please be respectful of that in the future’

‘who’s that fucking kid that crying on your couch that you ignored the whole video’ ‘that’s actually the Greek god Apollo, he was upset because I wanted back the Led Zeppelin shirt he stole from me’ 

‘am I crazy or was there a 7 foot tall guy with one eye walking around the kitchen eating peanut butter out of the jar’ ‘that’s my baby brother Tyson :)’

‘your friend said your dad’s in the mob but we’ve never seen your father on this channel where is he???’ ‘he, uh…….lives with the fishes?’ (Annabeth groaned at that one lmao)

‘you really vlogged getting struck by lightning and not going to the fucking hospital, huh’ ‘don’t worry, that was just my cousin, she was mad because I stole her nail polish earlier but she wouldn’t kill me over it’

COULD YOU IMAGINE HIM POSTING A VIDEO WITH THE PARTY PONIES AND TITLING IT ‘I ACCIDENTALLY GOT DRAGGED TO FURRY CON’

but overall: Youtuber Percy™ is, in fact, the only valid thing that exists thanks for coming to my TED Talk

[searchingwardrobes]

What’s My Age Again?

It’s @xhookswenchx ‘s birthday everyone! She is a talented writer and an overall wonderful person. She wrote several of my all-time favorite fics, and is currently my beta for Priceless in my romcom series (sorry it’s been so long since I sent you anything!) When that fic got some backlash, she was a huge encouragement. I wish her all the best on her birthday and every day! She writes family fics so well, that I decided to gift her with some CS family fluff and humor. This story is based on my own misadventures with my kids and our minivan, as well as this ask thread about Killian’s adaptability in this realm and the likelihood that he reads owner’s manuals cover to cover. The title is taken from the song by Blink 182, but unlike the rest of the stories in this series, this fic has nothing to do with the actual song. It’s really the exact opposite of that song, so let’s just say I was being ironic.

Summary: Captain Hook never imagined he would captain a decrepit vessel or have trouble keeping a crew in line. Until he became a father. Or Killian Jones vs. the family minivan.

Words: 4,000

Rating: G

Trigger warning: Well, I don’t write parenthood as strictly fluffy and cute. Killian gets irritated with his kids, he makes mistakes, the little buggers drive him crazy, but he still loves them in the end. So if you think life with kids is nothing but sunshine and rainbows and will get pissed at me if Killian is anything but adoring 24/7, then skip this story.

Can also be read on Ao3. Part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist. 

Set in the universe of Shopping With the Captain, but with no shopping. Can be read on its own.

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kday426 @jennjenn615 @thislassishooked @bethacaciakay @teamhook @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @let-it-raines @winterbaby89 @branlovestowrite @distant-rose @welllpthisishappening @profdanglaisstuff @captainsjedi

Killian Jones had lived many long years, hundreds of years, on a ship at sea with uncouth, dirty men. Yet he had managed to keep said ship in beautiful condition and said crew in line. So how in the world had he been defeated by a mini-van and three small children?

They bought the mini-van when Ian was only a few weeks old. He and his older sister were what this realm called “Irish twins.” In other words, Ian had been a complete, unplanned surprise who arrived one month before his big sister’s first birthday. The little lad came home to nothing but a pack and play in the master bedroom, carried up the porch steps in his sister’s pink baby carrier. They had gotten rid of everything from Evan’s infancy, deciding that one boy and one girl was enough. And then, surprise!

Killian couldn’t decide what, exactly, caused the mini-van to descend so rapidly into squalor. It could have been the sheer exhaustion of having three kids under the age of four, two of them under two. There was a span of two years that went by in a blur of sleepless nights, diapers, and a double stroller, so keeping the van clean definitely could have fallen by the wayside. Or it could have been Emma’s somewhat messy habits. Or it could have been the fact that Evan sat alone in the very back seat – an area they had come to dub “the black hole.”

Yet it wasn’t just the mess. One at a time, things started to break. Killian knew what to blame that on – the cheap material called plastic that this realm seemed to prefer. First it was the button that opened the gas cap. Now every time they had to fill up the tank, they were forced to walk to the back of the van, open the lift gate, slide open an access panel, and gently pull a wire. Gently being vitally important lest you snap said wire.

Then it was the handle on the right back door. One day, Evan pulled on it, and it just snapped. You could slide the door open or shut from the inside, but not the outside. Then the sound system started shorting out. They would be driving down the road when the radio would suddenly start screeching like an angry dragon. He and Emma had figured out if they pounded on the dashboard hard enough, it would stop. But it was all simple, unimportant things. The van drove just fine, and when they found out how much all the tiny little broken things would cost to fix, he and Emma both decided it wasn’t worth it.

“We can look up a video on You Tube and fix it ourselves,” Emma said, and Killian agreed. It was quite remarkable, really, the things a man could learn on that magic box. They had managed to fix their clothes dryer, oven, and ice maker with its assistance, surely the van would be no different. Only finding the time to do it was the issue. Between ballet lessons, baseball practice, school, and work, they just never got around to fixing the myriad of little things wrong with the mini-van.

Which was fine. Mostly. But Killian Jones had been Captain of the finest ship in the realms. He had kept it fine order, all spit and polish. Every single time he reached for that broken handle or pounded his fist on the dashboard, he felt shame, as ridiculous as it sounded. He winced every time his kids tumbled from the mini-van sending empty chip bags and to-go cups from Granny’s falling to the ground.

The cracked windshield is what started to nudge him towards the proverbial edge. He noticed it when he was herding the kids into the van one Saturday morning. The boys had outgrown their baseball cleats, and Storybrooke didn’t have a sporting goods store. Emma wasn’t feeling well, so Killian offered to get all three munchkins out of her hair for the morning. His jaw dropped when he saw the crack running all the way down the middle of the windshield.

“Bloody hell!”

“It wasn’t me!” all three kids blurted out simultaneously.

Killian swiveled to face them, his eyes narrowed. “Now why would you feel the need to immediately point that out?”

All three responded according to type. Evan, the ten-year-old, crossed his arms and quirked a brow in defiance. Briar Rose, the seven-year-old, stuck out her trembling lower lip, her big green eyes already swimming with fat tears. Ian, the six-year-old, ducked his head so low, his nose was practically touching his chest.

“The boys stepped on it, Daddy,” Briar Rose told him in a wobbly voice.

Evan turned on her immediately. “Only to get your stupid My Little Pony off the roof!”

Killian held up his hand to silence them. “Okay, back up. What happened? Start at the beginning,” Evan and Briar Rose started shouting over each other, and Killian sliced his hand through the air. “Stop! Briar Rose, cygnet, what happened?”

“You always take her side!” Evan shouted. Killian glared at him, and he snapped his mouth shut.

“I was playing superhero ponies with Ian, and we were making them fly. Then Evan said Pinkie Pie was a stupid pony -”

“- I did not!”

“You did to!”

Killian rubbed his forehead wearily. “The window?”

“Evan threw Pinkie Pie super hard,” Ian piped up.

Killian cocked his head. “That shouldn’t have cracked the window.”

Briar Rose shook her head solemnly. “No. The rock did that.”

“No,” Evan argued, “the rock made the tiny one. Ian’s foot made the crack.”

“You climbed too!” Ian shouted, shoving his big brother, and soon the boys were rolling on the grass.

Killian pulled them apart. “That’s enough! I think I got the gist of the story. Just . . . “ he sighed, “get in the van.”

Yes, driving for an hour into the next town over while staring at that crack set Killian on edge. But it was that stupid broken back door that would finally make him snap.

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

Going shopping with the kids was never Killian’s favorite past time, shoe shopping least of all. But getting the cleats ended up being less of a headache than he anticipated. Knowing that Emma wasn’t feeling so well, he took the kids over to a nearby park with a playground for a picnic lunch. The stress over his quickly deteriorating vessel ebbed under the warm sun and spring breeze. And despite their mischievousness, he adored his children. Getting to have this time with them was precious, especially when he thought how quickly the years were flying by. Evan was in the double digits now and increasingly independent. Briar Rose was still small enough for him to carry, though he was always surprised at how gangly her arms and legs had become. And Ian, their baby, overnight had seemed to lose the baby fat in his cheeks.

He was surprised to see that it was past four o’clock and knew that they needed to get home before dinner. Naturally, the kids didn’t want to leave, and pulling them away from the playground was ten times harder than dragging his old crew out of a tavern.

Perhaps he had lost his touch.

They dragged their feet all the way to the van, and even when they were inside continued to test his patience. Killian had already buckled and was inserting his key in the ignition when he glanced back to see the sliding back door still wide open.

“How many times do I have to tell you three to close the door behind you?”

An argument ensued over who was the last one in. Naturally. Killian sighed.

“Fine,” he muttered, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of. He reached for the back seat’s one functioning handle, but before he could slide the door closed, a wasp flew in.

Briar Rose screamed as if she were being devoured by a kraken. Ian panicked, flailing his arms and legs. Evan started throwing toys, trash, shoes, and a myriad of other items from the black hole at the wasp. This of course made Briar Rose yell at him to stop making it mad. The wasp came to rest on the window right by Briar Rose’s head. She screamed at the top of her lungs, yet the wasp didn’t move. Killian hit the button to lower the window, but the windows on the sliding doors only went halfway down, and the wasp seemed in no hurry to leave the mini-van. Briar rose yanked at the door handle frantically, but it wouldn’t budge. She started to cry.

If there was one thing in the world that Killian would move heaven and earth for it was to stop his little girl’s tears. He darted around the mini-van and without hesitation, reached through the window and flicked at the wasp with his hook.

It decided to land on the appendage. “Bloody hell,” Killian muttered, flicking his hook to get it off. It finally did, but not before stinging Killian’s good hand. He muttered obscenities as he shook the bugger off.

“Words, Daddy,” Briar Rose admonished.

“Words are allowed when stung by a wasp, darling,” Killian said before shutting the open door that had started the whole thing and climbing behind the wheel. He started the car, and immediately it was filled with an irritating electronic dinging. Killian muttered at the screen behind the wheel. A door was open. Grumbling, he marched all around the van, shutting every door. Still the dinging.

“I think it’s my door, Daddy,” Briar Rose said.

He groaned. Great, the broken door. He went around and tried to use the broken handle, to no avail. He climbed in the back seat, his centuries old joints creaking and protesting, and tried to slide it open from the inside. It wouldn’t budge. Yet Briar Rose was right – some how she had managed to open the door the tiniest crack, and now it wouldn’t slide back

“We’ll just have to deal with that infernal noise until we can get it to a mechanic.”

Protests rose from the back seat.

“But it’s so annoying!”

“Fix it, Daddy!”

“Why can’t you turn it off?”

“Because you three won’t take care of this van, that’s why!” Killian thundered, his patience finally snapping. “And you won’t shut the damn door behind you when you get in even though I’ve told you a thousand times! None of this would have happened if you’d just listen to me for once!”

Silence descended on the van. Evan slumped down so low in the back seat, Killian couldn’t see him in the rearview mirror. Ian ducked his head to his chin, his blonde hair hiding his face. Briar Rose curled up in a ball, her chin trembling. Killian clenched his jaw, guilt warring with his irritation as he pulled out of the parking lot. The dinging sound mercifully stopped when he got to a red light. That’s when he heard a worse sound – Briar Rose crying. He turned his head to look back at his baby girl. Huge tears were rolling down her cheeks. The guilt won.

“I am so sorry for yelling like that, little love,” he told her gently. “Please, please forgive me?”

Briar Rose managed a half smile as she sniffled and nodded her head.

“Really,” Killian repeated, addressing all three children, “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. I love you all, you know that, right?”

“Yes, Daddy,” they all chorused.

The kids still weren’t their normal, exuberant, chatty selves as they went on their way. It may have had more to do with the continual beeping than his temper, however. It had only ceased at the red light, Killian discovered, because the van was no longer in motion. The longer the beeping went, the more Killian’s head throbbed. He found himself wishing fervently for red lights, yet all that would do was prolong the trip home.

“I can’t take it anymore!” Evan cried out.

“Me either,” Ian whined.

“Can’t you stop it Daddy?” Briar Rose begged in what Emma called her Daddy’s girl voice.

“I really can’t.” Killian had read the owner’s manual cover to cover when they first got the van. He had read all about the doors, their safety features, and how to use the child lock system. There hadn’t been anything about how to stop the infernal beeping if the door wouldn’t shut.

Killian turned up the radio as loud as he could, trying to drown out the beeping. That only gave him a bigger headache. Then his hand started to throb, and he looked down to see that the wasp sting had swollen to the size of a grape. He squeezed his hand to find that his fingers were getting stiff. His headache moved from the front of his forehead and spread all the way to the base of his skull. Was there a red light soon? No, just miles and miles of Maine country highway all the way to bloody Storybrooke.

And that’s when he snapped. The beeping, his pounding head, his throbbing hand, his three children who had now taken up another chorus of whining. And he lost it plain and simple, leveling his fury on the computer panel above the steering wheel. With a loud shout, he plunged his hook right through the speedometer, and with a shower of sparks the beeping finally stopped.

There was a beat of blessed silence.

“That. Was. AWESOME DAD!!!” Evan shouted.

“You murdered the van,” Ian whispered in awe.

Briar Rose’s jaw dropped as her eyes grew wide. “Daddy, what will Mommy say?”

“I didn’t murder the van,” Killian argued, “it’s a machine.”

Ian’s lower lip quivered. “BB-8 is a machine. Would you stab him with your hook too?”

“Bloody hell,” Killian muttered. Were they home yet?

Killian was surprised to see Emma sitting on the front porch swing when they got home. She rose to greet them at the front walk with a smile that looked weary. She looked like she still wasn’t feeling well.

The kids tumbled out of the van like desperate sailors on shore leave, as usual. They were chattering a mile a minute at their mother before Killian could even get out of the van.

“Daddy killed the van!”

“Sparks went everyone!”

“It was awesome!”

Emma’s eyebrows rose as she turned to him. “You did what?”

“I can explain Swan,” he began, raising his hand and his hook in supplication.

“Oh my God, what happened to your hand?” Emma exclaimed, grabbing him by the arm so she could look at the wasp sting. Now his entire hand had puffed up like a balloon.

“Well, that’s how it all started -”

“What happened to the van?” she screeched, cutting him off. She dropped his arm and leaned into the driver’s seat.

“A wasp tried to kill us, so then Daddy killed the van,” Briar Rose piped up, as if that were the clearest explanation in the world.

“There’s a hole in the computer screen, Killian,” Emma turned to him and crossed her arms over her chest. “You plunged your hook into our mini-van!”

“It was the only way I could stop the beeping! There was a wasp, and we were trying to get it out, and you know how that one door is broken, and then the beeping -”

“Killian Jones, how old are you!”

He didn’t understand why she was getting so worked up. It wasn’t as if the van weren’t falling apart already. “Three hundred and twenty, give or take, but what the bloody hell does that have to do with anything?”

“I just think you could be an adult, for God’s sake and control your temper! Especially around our children!”

She shoved past him and stomped her way up the porch steps and into the house. Killian glanced down at Evan, who shrugged.

“Women,” the ten-year-old said sagely.

“And how old are you? Ten going on thirty?” Killian asked wryly as he playfully nudged his son’s shoulder. “Why don’t you three play out here for a little while? I need to talk to your mother.”

Killian opened the door gently, softly calling out Emma’s name. He found her sitting on the bottom of the stairs with her head in her hands. When she heard him call her name, she looked up, and he saw tears had stained her cheeks.

“Emma, I’m sorry about the van. You’re right, I lost my temper. I yelled at the children too, which makes me feel even worse.” He chuckled as he ran his swollen fingers through his hair. “After over three centuries, I think I’m finally feeling my age.”

“You mean you think you’re too old for all of this?” Emma asked in a small voice.

He tilted his head as he studied her, still unable to read what was going on in her head. “If you’re asking if I have regrets, then absolutely not. I wouldn’t trade you or the kids for one second. Although my old bones did creak when I was crawling through that back seat today.”

“That’s exactly what I mean!” Emma cried, leaping to her feet. “I’m feeling my bones creak too, you know.” And after that proclamation, she turned and fled up the stairs.

He rubbed wearily at his forehead. His headache was back.

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

Since Emma clearly wasn’t feeling like herself, Killian had walked to Granny’s with the kids to pick up dinner. When they got back, even grilled cheese and onion rings couldn’t lure her from the master bathroom. She said she was soaking in the tub, but Killian had known her long enough to hear tears in her voice, even when she tried valiantly to hide it.

“Are you worried about Mommy?” Briar Rose asked after swallowing a bite of her onion rings.

“Why do you ask that, cygnet?”

“Because you’re playing with your food,” she said matter-of-factly. He frowned as he looked down at his lasagna and ceasar salad. He’d barely taken three bites. He looked up at his children, who were watching him intently. They were far too perceptive; it was in their genes.

“Is Mommy mad that we made you kill the van?” Ian asked, his brow furrowed seriously.

“Oh no, lad,” Killian quickly assured, rubbing his son’s blonde head. He tilted his chin up with his good hand. “And for the record, I did not kill the van.

“Yeah, Ian,” Evan explained in a superior voice. He liked to lecture his younger siblings. “The van doesn’t go on missions like BB-8. You can ask Henry.”

Ian nodded as if that were that. “You can ask Henry” was a common refrain meaning that something was an indisputable fact.

“Your Mommy just doesn’t feel well,” Killian attempted to put the children’s minds at ease, “and sometimes when you don’t feel well, you get upset easily.”

“Like when Briar Rose and Ian were in Mommy’s tummy.”

“Yes, Evan, like . . . “ Killian trailed off, the full realization of his son’s words hitting him. He rose abruptly from the table and turned towards the stairs, but before going up, he dashed over to his oldest and clasped Evan on the shoulder. “How old are you again, son?”

“Ten -”

“- going on thirty.”

When Killian opened their bedroom door, all the lights were off. He could just make out Emma’s form on the bed, curled into the fetal position beneath the covers, her blonde hair fanned out on the pillow. He eased down next to her, reaching out to play with the ends of her hair. It was still damp from her bath. He frowned when she remained with her back to him. He swallowed, weighing his words before plunging forward anyway.

“We’re having another baby, aren’t we?” he asked softly.

Emma rolled over then. The last remnants of day clung to the twilight hour, illuminating her tear stained face. He slid down in the bed, opening his arms for her, and she came willingly into his arms.

“I just turned forty, Killian,” she mumbled against his chest. “That means I’ll be fifty-eight when this kid graduates from high school.”

Killian could have pointed out that he had three centuries on her, but he knew now wasn’t the time. Besides, that may be how old he was chronologically, but physically he was only a few years older than Emma.

She sniffled, wiped her nose on his sleeve, and then continued. “Then you come home, and I find out you lost it over our disaster of a mini-van, and I guess I just panicked. I mean, if we can’t handle this mess we’ve got now, how can we handle another kid? Especially a newborn who’s up all night? And diapers, and all the stuff you have to haul around, and – oh my God! - potty training! I suck at potty training, and now I have to go through that hell all over again!”

“And yet our children use the facilities just fine,” Killian chuckled.

Emma rolled over to glare at him, and he knew it was too soon for a joke. “And you – talking about your old bones and shit.”

She pushed at him as if to leave the bed, but he wrapped his arms around her waist. She didn’t put up a fight. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and murmured his words soothingly against her hair.

“I would be lying if I said this news didn’t bring some trepidation with it. But it also brings joy, love.” He pulled away so he could cup her face with his hand. “I was just thinking today as I played with the kids at the park how fast time was going. I thought of how I missed chubby babies asleep against my chest.”

“You do look hot with a baby on your chest,” Emma conceded, giving him a wobbly smile.

“And nothing makes my heart swell with joy quite like watching you carry a child created through our love.” He brushed a chaste kiss to her lips. “And as for the sleepless nights, the diapers, the potty training, and the stuff,we don’t have to do it alone.”

Emma rolled her eyes, even as her smile widened. “I know, we have each other.”

Killian quirked an eyebrow. “Well yes, but I was referring to the three built in babysitters downstairs. We didn’t have three over the age of six the last time.”

Emma’s eyes brightened. “You’re right! I was thinking of the two year blur the last time, but . . . this is different, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” Killian agreed, rubbing his thumb across her cheek.

“We have a ten-year-old! He’ll be eleven by the time the baby comes.” Emma frowned. “But is that fair?”

“Course it is,” Killian assured her as he tugged her against his chest. “Evan isn’t ten, he’s ten going on thirty.”

Emma laughed. “He is rather precocious, isn’t he?” She sat up and straddled Killian. She ran her hands down the front of his shirt, fiddling with the buttons. “And what about you, old man? How old will you be when this kid graduates from high school?”

“Let me show you love,” he growled, grabbing her hips, “how virile I still am.”

Eight months later, another little girl joined the Jones family. Abigail Jones. Abigail meant “joy” in Hebrew. Both her parents and all three of her siblings thought it was fitting.

[short-origins]

Stay Safe.

(Fun fact: I had no idea I was queer when I wrote this. How I didn’t know is beyond me, but whatever.)

So, you’re heading out? 

The bubbly scrawl appears along my left arm. A small smile works its way onto my face as I read the white script. I am not supposed to communicate with anyone outside of my command at this time, but screw it; freedom of speech and expression still apply, yeah?

“Hey, could I borrow a pen?” I turn to my friend Jonah, who gives me a ‘really?’ look. “Yes, really. Now may I borrow a pen or is that a no?” I ask. 

“Yeah, yeah. Here you go,” he sighs as he reaches into his pack to pull out a black pen. “I need this one back, L.”  

“Yes sir,” I say with a lilt in my voice as I snatch the pen from his grasp. “Thanks.”

Yeah, planned patrol. Shouldn’t be too bad.

“Pen away, Liz,” Commander Zolt orders gruffly. “We’ll be out of this stinking truck in five minutes, you’ll live.”

“Yes sir,” I say as I yank my sleeve down over my olive skin and hand the pen back over to Jonah. “Thanks again,” I say. Wordlessly, he takes the pen back and puts into his pack and pulls out some jerky to snack on.

“So, what’d you tell ‘er this time?” he asks while peeling the wrapping open. He wiggles his eyebrows and I just roll my eyes at him.

“It’s not like we had a ton of time to chat and it was just about our day; nothing ‘juicy,’ you idiot.” I say.

“Rats.”

“Shut up.” I smile and lean back into my seat. In the back of the truck are three people besides me and Jonah. Commander Zolt, who has never seemed to like me, along with the siblings Colt and Bel. who mostly chat with each other, but they are good people to hang with otherwise.

As the ride to Quintar continues to draw out, my mind thinks to the writing on my arm. I find myself focusing on the faint pin-pointed pressure of Tiana’s response. Despite how tempted I am to look, I can almost feel Commander Zolt watching and waiting for me to slip up, which keeps me from doing anything of the sort. 

I’ll read it later, when I get the chance. Tiana and I have been chatting for almost fourteen years now. She reached out to me first. 

Does this work? 

The pale blue color had bloomed on my arm. I remember running to my mom immediately after. “Mom! Mom! Look!” I’d said. Seeing the messy scrawl for the first time had been a happy surprise. “Look! They wrote. What do I say back?” I’d asked her mother. 

“Well say hi to them at least. Talk to them,” she said.

The feeling of the truck suddenly slamming on the brakes snaps me back into focus as our bodies jerk towards the front of the truck. “Alright, buzz-cuts and ponies, time to move!” the commander orders us as we begin to pick up all of our items. I pack up any material I took out of my pack and grab my gun from behind my seat as I stand. 

“Three years. We’ve been doing this job for three years. Last run for you, L,” Jonah says as we get ready to go. “You lucky shit.”  

“What can I say? I don’t want to be away from home any longer than I have to be.” I laugh and punch his upper arm, “Plus, once I’m back, I plan to finally meet Tiana in person, rather than over a video chat,” I say as I glance towards my left arm. “But we’ll have to meet up once you’re out. You are out soon too, yeah?”

Before he responds, we are pushed out of the truck into the dry, dusty heat of Quintar. The truck takes off to make room for the next truck as Jonah speaks. “Three more months. Better no forget about me in that time, L.” he says, securing some of gear to his belt. 

“Yeah, yeah.”

We are all corralled into a group once the rest of the command gets out of the other trucks. We split into groups of six and spread out along the surrounding area. Major Beth leads our group based off of her mutt’s nose. 

We arrive to a mostly deserted part of the town as we keep watch outside of each building while the mutt tries to sniff out any bombs, drugs, weapons, and other dangerous material. 

‘Clear!” Major Beth yells out as the mutt sniffs out another crumbling building. As we transition to the next building and continue our check, I lag behind a few paces and pull my sleeve back to see what Tiana wrote. 

Stay Safe. 

The clumsy handwriting makes me smile, as it always has since she accepted my position.

Why the HELL are you doing that!?

I could practically hear her screaming at me through the bold marks on my skin. She knew that I had been thinking about doing this, and had voiced her concern many times prior, but when I told her that it was going to happen, I could feel her anger radiating from the lines on my skin. 

I’m calling.

Moments later my phone rings loudly. I take a breath, before deciding to answer. I deserve any anger she has. “Hey.”

On the other end of the line I hear her strained voice as she asks. “Dammit, Liz. You’re going to get yourself killed out there,” her normally soft and happy voice sounds like it’s on the verge of breaking. “Of all times to go into service why-” she pauses for a moment, swallows and continues, “why now? Why not community service, policing, fire fighting even. Why would you go work in a war zone?” 

I understand her concern. “No one else will by choice. I’m not going to be away long. I’ll be back before you are out of college, and when I come back I’ll have the money to meet you so you don’t have to leave your studies. I’ll be fine. Plus, when I get back I’ll be able to get veterans discounts,” I say, half honest, half joking. Tiana lets out a breathy scoff. 

“Fine. Stay safe.”

“Liz! We need you to check this out,”Major Beth calls out.

“Yes Ma’am!”  I jog inside the building Major Beth and her dog are in. “What is it?”

Major Beth gestures towards three cabinets, two of which were opened. “We found a variety of weapons which were modified.” Major Beth opens the third cabinet and turns to look at me. “You’re the weapons specialists, what do we have here?”

I take that as a cue to begin pulling out the weapons and inspecting them. The first cabinet and much of the second are full of semi-automatic rifles with additions which were added with basic supplies, mostly duct tape. Most of the guns had added on knives and various blades to make basic bayonets. Other guns, though appearing ordinary on the surface, were modified to shoot ammunition other than bullets. Pistols are limited to small rocks and pebbles, but larger guns were altered to use things such as stones and incendiary cartridges depending on each gun.

“Besides the obvious attempt at recreating bayonets, the guns were modified to use more mundane things as projectiles, so they wouldn’t run out of ammunition,” I say, sparing her the details as she comes over to inspect the weapons. I walk over to the third cabinet to find it full of explosives. I hesitate in picking up anything from the third cabinet before walking back towards her. “It’s full of bombs and the bottom has a layering of of gunpowder. I recommend that we use any spare water we have and douse the powder,” I say. 

She nods and I begin to walk towards the door to get a jug of water, but I am interrupted when a loud banging sound ruptures throughout the area. Pulling my gun out, I quickly turn around to try to locate the sound. But I see nothing. The sound was of a gun going off, but I can’t tell from where. 

Another banging sound goes off, and suddenly the cabinet full of explosives is set off. The gunpowder lights on fire and then there is an explosion. 

My body is pushed back into the opposite wall, and my vision blurs to black. 

*

Clunk Click.

The sound of a door rouses me from sleep. My bleary eyes open and I have to blink a few times to see clearly. I turn my head to the right to see a nurse changing what my IV is connected to. 

“Your awake. How do you feel?” he asks.

“What?” I ask before comprehending what he said. “Oh, I- uhh- good? Where am I?” I can feel parts of my body secured by bandages and the air smells too clean, 

“You are in a hospital in Ann Arbor, Michigan,” he says. “You were injured while in Quintar, and since it was so close to your release date, it was decided that once you were stable you would be sent here,” he explains upon seeing my confusion. He walks to the door and just before he leaves he adds, “There will be a doctor here to check up on you in a few minutes. Until then, you have a visitor.” He walks out the door, and I can see his silhouette pause to say something to someone just outside the door through the hazy glass. 

A moment later the door opens, and a girl walks into my room. Her hair is an auburn color and her skin is fair. She has many freckles spattered across her nose and cheeks, and her green eyes light up when she sees me awake. 

“You never listen? Do you?” she says as she walks over and sits down in the chair next to my bed. 

“Selective hearing.” I smile up at her. “You were able to convince people to send me here, I’m impressed.” 

She shrugs. “What can I say? I’m majoring in English, I make the best arguments, and I wouldn’t stand for any more delays. By the way,” she stands and slightly leans over the side of the bed to hold out a hand, “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Liz.” 

I smile and take her hand, “I wish this were under better circumstances. I am happy to meet you in person as well, Tiana.”

[lovemesomesurveys]

If you have a job, how long is your shift? I don’t. What was the last thing you received in an envelope? Bills. Do you ever wear your hair in a pony tail? My hair is always in a pony tail. When was the last time you got a new phone? This past Christmas. Do you wear your watch on your left or right arm? I don't wear one.

What was the last kind of pop you drank? Coke. Do you think you're single because you repel the opposite sex? That must be it. What language did you take up in high school? Spanish. Why are you home? That’s where I want to be.  Do you like sunflowers? Sure. Whose bedroom were you in last? Mine. Are you counting down for anything? Beach trip in a couple days. Are you watching TV? What's on? Catfish. Have you ever been bitten by a mosquito? Yeah plenty of times in my life. Not fun. It’s been awhile now, though. Do you have a sweatshirt on right now? Oh god, no. It’s 105 F here. Where is your ex? I don’t know or care. Have any pictures on your dresser mirror? I don't have a dresser mirror. Did you hang out with anyone today? What did you do? Just me and the doggo, chillin’. Have you had any beer this week? No. I don’t drink beer or any alcohol.  What channel did you last watch on TV? MTV. Would you immediately look for someone right after you and your bf/gf broke up? No. What was the last alcoholic beverage you consumed? I think it was a Jack and Coke. That was 6 years ago; though, so I don’t remember. Currently waiting on something/someone? Just for that beach trip. Last time you painted your nails? Like 3 years ago. What was the last thing you watched on television? Didn’t you ask this? I’m watching Catfish. Is your shirt yellow? No, it’s gray.  How old will you be in 12 months?  30. 

What did you do last night? Had pizza for dinner, watched TV, did some surveys, did my Bible study, listened to a few ASMR videos. What woke you up this morning? My body. Do you sleep naked? No. What should you be doing right now? Nothing. On a scale from one to ten, how happy are you? Blah. Looking back, did you ever think you would be where you are now? Absolutely not. Does the person you have feelings for start with any of these letters: B, L, D, or M?  I don’t have feelings like that for anyone currently. Do you have make-up on? Nope. Have you kissed anybody in the last 4 days? No. Have you ever held hands with someone in a car? Yes. The last person you kissed name started with a J or R? J. Are you taller than 5 foot 7 inches? No. Would you rather be called honey or baby? I don’t particularly care for either one. The person you have the most feelings for calls you right now, what do you do? Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? We don’t talk anymore. It’s been like 4 years since I’ve last seen or talked to him. Could you go the rest of your life without smoking a cigarette? Yes. I have so far and I have desire to start. Your last kiss meant nothing to you, right? Wrong. Next time you will get butterflies? That’s not really something I can predict.  Where is your phone? Next to me. Will you kiss the last person you kissed again? No. Are you any good with kids? I’ve been told I am. What if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? Nooo. Where did you get the shirt you are wearing? I ordered it from Kohl’s.  Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years time? Nooo. Would you ever try being a vegetarian? No. Did anyone call you babe yesterday? No. Did you ever slam a door on someone? Not on someone, but I’ve slammed a door. I bet you’re thinking about someone right now? Nope. Are you in love with someone right now? No. What have you watched so far today? Daily Pop, Catfish, Keeping Up with the Kardashians, and The Golden Girls. What is the weather like right now? It’s almost 10PM and it’s 88 F out. It was 106 F today. The power went out for about 3 hours and I thought I was going to die. Ended up sitting in the car for the AC. Are you talking to anyone on AIM right now? Who? No, AIM is dead. I don’t use any other instant messengers.  What is your favorite card game? Uno. What kind of pet do you have? Any certain breed? I have a 2 year old German Shepherd/Lab mix named Princess Leia. What color shirt are you wearing right now? Black. Do you wish someone was dead? Wow, no. What's your favorite ice cream? Strawberry, mint chocolate chip, and birthday cake. What is the weirdest thing you've done in public? I don’t know. Have you ever given a toll collector 75 cents in pennies? No. Give me the link to your favorite Youtube video. Nah. The last time you hurt yourself-how did it happen? I don’t remember the last time I got hurt. I got sunburned on my nose last week, though. That hurt. What's the name of a dance you can actually dance to? None, ha. If you could have any pet you wanted, what would it be? I’d want to get another dog. My doggo would love to have a friend. Did you ever have an invisible friend? No. How many emails were you sent today? I think there was 26 in my inbox today. Favorite sleeping position? I sleep on my side. What is your dad's name? What are you drinking right now? Starbucks Doubleshot. What's your favorite alcoholic drink? None. How many hours of sleep do you get each night? For the past few weeks I’ve been getting up throughout the night and it sucks. I don’t really know how much sleep I’m actually getting. Are you a good morning person? Noooo, ha. I need time to wake up. I need coffee and I need to just sit and enjoy my coffee before I can interact with anyone. Have you ever been on a diet? I’m supposed to be on a high protein thing.  What's your favorite dessert? Cupcakes, brownies, muffins, donuts. Would you ever like to meet Marilyn Manson? Not particularly. What was your favorite Christmas gift you got last year? I love all my gifts. What have you thought up for this year's list? I haven’t thought about that, yet. We’re in June. What's the best activity you've done so far this summer? I went to the beach last week and I’m going again soon. What baseball team do you root for? None. What's the scariest movie you've ever seen? Hmm. I don’t know what I’d consider to be the “scariest.”

[rkdaehwi]

Participant # ??? Sohn Youngjae

Song & Rap: Heize - Don’t know you (00:00-01:12) Dance: Beyonce - Yonce (00:15-00:48) Girin Outfit

Honestly he hadn’t had any intentions of participating in this. It wasn’t that he saw any faults in the company, nor was it the fact that he wasn’t actively hoping to become a trainee: it was a simple text conversation with Seokwoo that had tainted him. ‘I know some of the Sphere members,’ the guy had essentially told him, and thus Eric had come to the conclusion that if he got signed to Royal, he would get to meet the members of Luxe. Thus his fool’s hope had begun, as had his days of being dead set on auditioning for Royal.

In fact it was rather disappointing to him that an opportunity like this had arose before anything from Royal and in the beginning he had vehemently denied wanting to go. Even made a foolish bet that sent his brother into the fire instead of himself (although that was rather amusing too, watching the older’s face pale as he had told him the conditions of his wish and knowing that there was no backing down). But in the end he had stepped up to the challenge anyway, although not entirely willingly. It had partly been due to his mother’s warning of not to bully his brother too much and also partly because of his acquaintances saying it’d be a waste not to at least try. He couldn’t say he disagreed. Eric wanted to become an idol badly and thus he figured it would be absolutely idiotic to not take a chance when it appeared just because he had some idea that maybe he got to see his big idol if certain circumstances were met. What were the chances even if he did get signed to a company as a trainee that it’d be royal? Slim.

Thus he found himself on a day in April stepping up to the area, cursing how it always seemed to be ridiculously early when he had to attend special things: the SSKTWORLD auditions had also been far too early in the morning for his liking, especially for a day with no school. Honestly speaking he could have arrived later, but supposedly there was only a limited amount of space. Such he had willed himself out of the door when his brother left, sleep still sitting in his eyes and no time to even consider his makeup. He hadn’t got much sleep since their new baby sister had come, always conscious of her and always on high alert whenever she cried even though his parents had told him that it was okay, they would take care of things, babies did cry sometimes and it was perfectly fine.

His performance was already clear in mind and his body was more than ready. One thing he did however fear was that he would be remembered from the past season of the MGAs and be considered a one-trick-pony, but Eric simply couldn’t help his love for female artists and his need to interpret their songs through his own voice and body. Far too many male dancers only stuck to heavy choreography with bold and assertive movements, whereas he much more preferred the graceful movements of female dancers. But that was exactly why he had started hip hop classes in the wake of his elimination: being able to expand from his own comfort zone and delve into new genres. Thus at least his dance portion carried bigger movements than he had shown thus far. And more importantly he had become more accurate in his dance: he took pride in that.

‘-- Youngjae,’ his mind faintly registered a call of a name, and then again, ‘Sohn Youngjae’. It took a moment to realise that he had signed up using his real name and as they called out for the last time, he quickly rose his hand and yelled out “here!” before stumbling up to the scene. From behind he had felt a push and he was sure he heard a ‘holy heck, go!’ from his brother too. Part of him felt like he was far too formally dressed, but what he had aimed for was the cheekiness in his intended move in the switch. For now though he just felt a bit awkward as he did a 90 degree bow and presented himself. “I’m Sohn Youngjae!” he called into the microphone with high energy not at all portraying how awkward he felt right now. And before he knew it, the beginning beat to his song provided began. 

For a moment he simply stood there, feeling the beat, getting into the song before putting his lips close to the microphone. “Groovy everywhere,” were the words that left him before he, inspired by the music video to the song, flung his arms into a dab and returned to the microphone this time for good.

Now I know, even if you don’t say it Why didn’t I know such an easy thing? In the time I picked out my clothes I should’ve held you 30 more minutes

I didn’t know how big your heart was Though I knew what size you were I forgot how to make you smile And I thought wrong

If only you got mad at me If only you told me without keeping it inside

If asked why he had picked this song in particular, Eric would simply reply with “because I like the beat”. It had a very groovy feeling to it and he enjoyed it a lot. Furthermore the requirements to even join in this challenge had been simple: one must show a segment of dance, song and (his worst enemy might he add) rap. Eric was convinced that he could definitely, absolutely rap, but when he had recorded himself the first time it had been nothing short of disastrous, even he could hear that much. In the end he had settled for the simple two lines of rap this song had right before the chorus and practiced them so much that it was at least passable... he hoped.

You wouldn’t have been so cold But I only realize this after it’s over

He couldn’t help the satisfied smile that appeared on his face as he actually pulled off the rap part. No, it was far from flawless, but at least he did it without stumbling over his words and he felt pretty alright about the flow of his speech from simply how he had tried to mimic the original singer. Then began the chorus and he let a finger run up to loosen up the bow tie a bit.

I didn’t know you I didn’t know your heart I didn’t even know you were getting farther away I really didn’t know And I was just picking out your gifts But that wasn’t what you wanted

Immediately the song came to a halt, and Eric yet again fumbled with his tie, this time pulling it off entirely and tossing it to the side. He also rid himself of the blazer which soon followed the same trajectory as the bow tie. Whereas his expression thus far had been more spirited, more innocent, in an instant he gained a fierce expression as the first beat of his dance sequence dropped and the boy moved his body to the beats. This was where Eric liked to think his true potential was -- also why he had saved the best for last. Not counting his lacking rapping skills which he was very much convinced could easily be learned, Eric did consider himself a pretty decent both singer and dancer, and therefor he figured that if he didn’t at least give this thing a try he was going to regret it for at least a couple of months.

With the last beat Eric ended his performance and broke into another wide and bubbly smile before giving a finishing bow and bouncing off the stage again. Now he could only wait and hope for the best.