as someone else who enjoyed Hough's essay, one of the things I thought was interesting was the question she raised as to just how much of Mardoll was fictional. like obviously he was lying about and concealing some things, especially regarding his job and financial situation, but I always got the sense that he believed he was the identities he claimed, in the discourse he started, even if AM is not his real name. or is Mardoll the wholly constructed persona of a troll?

Obvious disclaimer that all of this is speculative -- I have no intention of or interest in attacking Ana Mardoll, and I'm certainly not going to try to "uncover" him or anything (I'm not as respectable as kurganfilledwithbearbones in this regard) -- but I digress:

I'm not on Twitter, and I'm not enmeshed with YA publishing drama, so thankfully I've avoided most of this ~discourse~ until I saw my mutuals' posts and then read Lauren Hough's essay. But, based on what I've seen, I can pretty confidently say that Ana Mardoll reminds me of other grifters I've seen, people who are similarly chronically online and inclined to lie about their identities. It's also interesting to me because, to an extent, I think lying to people on the internet is fine. My "real" name isn't Mia, but it's still what I say it is when I'm talking to people online -- I might tell a story and change some names or dates or locations, but that's still considered within acceptable parameters. The difference, I think, is that this kind of lying isn't making any meaningful difference -- a story about embarrassing yourself in a hotel hot tub is still a story about embarrassing yourself in a hotel hot tub whether the hotel hot tub in question is in Rome or Dubai -- whereas it's the minor details that add up. In all likelihood, based on my experiences with these types of people, AM started his grifting career as a deeply insecure and guilty person. He was, or still is, aware of his immense privilege, and it made him feel bad. This is also one of the reasons people -- almost always white people -- end up racefaking to try to gain or regain some misbegotten sense of "authenticity." Being your actual self sucks, so you invent a different person to become, and then you can manipulate your life the way you want it to be.

And the thing about these people is that they do, to an extent, believe their own hype. If I found out AM genuiely believed he was a righteous force for good, I wouldn't be surprised. Do I think that's how it started? No, almost certainly not, but it definitely ended up there. This really gets into a question of how we define the boundaries of trolling -- if your entire online persona becomes the troll, is Theseus's ship still the originally Argo? -- regardless of the effect. Neurological studies have shown that you can convince someone to confess to a crime they know they could not have possibly committed, just by putting certain pressure on them, to the point where the subject genuinely begins to believe they committed the crime. Human memory is fallible. Humans brains in general are complicated and confusing. If you don't believe your own hype, at least to an extent, no one will be fooled for long; authenticity can usually be sussed out pretty quickly, especially when you're in the spotlight.

So yeah, I have no doubt that AM viewed himself as persecuted, as underprivileged, what have you. I wouldn't even be surprised to learn that he legitimately believed (on some level) that he was entitled to all the donations he scammed people out of by claiming he was impoverished. Cognitive disconnect is scarily powerful that way! Much in the same way that purported leftists might watch a bunch of Fox News and then claim their hatred for Democrats has nothing to do with falling for propaganda. (To continue the political comparison a bit: Mehmet Oz was far less liked than Donald Trump, even though their political positions were broadly quite similar, because the latter -- for better or for worse -- is genuinely insane and believes his own bullshit to an extent that the former did and does not. There are a bunch of cool sociological reasons why authenticity can be perceived -- more or less reliably, although with noticeable and significant exceptions -- but this isn't the point, as cool as it may be.) Similarly, I have no doubt that hivliving genuinely believed, to an extent, that she was the person/people she claimed to be. Does anyone remember medievalpoc? Same deal: she felt guilty for being white and otherwise privileged, so tried to adopt a persona that could assuage her of her guilt. It's not even limited to idiots on tumblr -- Misha Defonseca, Rosemarie Pence, James Frey, and A.J. Finn all come to mind -- but social media has only made these types of people more obvious to the average person.

The bottom line is that people who engage in this sort of behavior are in need of serious help, and should not be encouraged or acknowledged, much in the same way playing along with someone's schizophrenic delusions is only going to make it worse. Hough was exactly right when she said that ignoring this is the best way to make it go away, because this is attention-seeking behavior. Deeply unhealthy, inevitably harmful (to the self and others), but functionally on the same level as a child making up an extreme lie because all attention is good attention.

Baby it's Hot outside,... the new normal!

Ya know,..... and it seems to me that people aren't too concerned with how hot it's getting from global warming.

Medical clinics all over the United States are recording a huge influx of people with heat related ailment's and burns from temperatures making everything hot to the touch, like the sidewalk they fell down on being 160 degrees, the metal seat belt buckle in their automobile burning them by touching it from a cars interior being 140 degrees, not to mention the hundreds of pet deaths because of the heat.

So I looked into this crazy phenomena from another point of view, from a Psychological behavioural approach, and it seems that many people believe in climate change, but still don't really think about it or consider what should be done about it. And the Psychological answer is climate change is too large and scary an idea to understand, so people are using denial as a defense mechanism.

Like "I know it's a problem but they (government) are working on it, end of discussion, I really don't want to talk about it".

We are literally just trying to ignore all the deaths happening globally and going about our daily lives hoping and many praying that it just goes away.....

We aren't protesting in the streets in front of federal buildings demanding our political leaders DO SOMETHING NOW, and help society to cope by funding deterrents for people literally cooking to death from the heat.

Climate change doesn't seem to be as important as Trump losing the last presidential election or actors fearing AI impersonators taking their jobs away.

Which is just NUTS!

To myself anyway.

..................... but I regress because I alone have been for the last 4 decades voted for this time to not come to fruition, and yet it has.

Because MOST people didn't believe it would come to this!

So I'm just an observer anymore, because most people just don't care, don't understand because they have been told it's not that big of a deal, or could give-a-shit, and they have their own lives to deal with without trying to help others............ and really it's not that big of a problem.

I've read several studies that suggest the end of humanity is far more likely to be brought about by multiple factors, and climate change probably won't be one of them, although it will kill a few billion or so, but humanity should survive another 5 to 7 million years or so, and after that Earth’s atmosphere will contain very little oxygen because of our continuing to pollute after surviving and coping with climate change after all the billions have died off and years had passed and everyone has forgotten just how tragic it was, ...... like younger kids today not really understanding the 9/11 tragedy, and what happened with that fiasco.

Because we can't really change our motives and still make a profit, making it likely that anaerobic microbes, like bacteria rather than humans, will be the last living Earthlings.

Those of us who do make it through will have had to be wealthy and be able to afford the preventative measures that must be done to survive the coming super storms that will be constant eventually.

It's the same old song, and what has always ended something in humanity is our own stupidity, because we always put off what we should do NOW because of Money, and no one wants' to pay until they actually see something happening, and then it's always to late!

So here we are, and this is just the beginning of trying to survive our ignorance,...... gonna be a ride to remember!

We have actually heard enough from you about 9/11 and it's you too Mack and you're an idiot. And you can't figure out who his kids are cuz he's not big he's not big because of you it's kind of odd isn't it are you lying. So these people like the big code in reality you like to make it money so I wonder what it says about him being small in money.

Further don't ask me for any famous mac I'm not handing you any favors. It looks like Mars attacks is the end of the line for you Mac. And that's what a lot of people say and Garth you die in Prometheus and a lot of people say that, the reason they say that is they studied the tape and they can see you in absolute horror and in Mars attacks with a tie you down after you were attacked your face is showing severe duress. And yes you are gritting your teeth I've never before. And the whole face matches what you doing. And those things are not long from now and you're sitting here messing with them the whole time like an idiot a lot of the max figured out that your part idiot and you will not stop screwing things up. They don't blame you Max they play in PGA and they can't seem to separate you too I said that idea but who's going to do it and when they're warlock are gone you hv to or Max's get ya. So you see that's true and we do have an update.

The St Laurent is beginning to show science it will drop it's down to 20 mb and drained seven miles below the surface but it is already quivering and shaking. It won't last much longer and they're telling me it's 8 MI that has dried out the soil has. And it will be moments and it will be dropped it's a matter of fact it is shaking violently and started burping and the son says it's going to go if it's burping and we know it is. There are a few things going on around here as well. The police are arresting people for local crimes and no you're not getting out of jail they're taking you to prison. Quite a few of you are going to the boys detention center and you're made to eat crow and are killed there especially your clones Tommy f. It's a lot of you are going to be taken away today more specifically they're looking to move Dan and Trump out. Consultant writing do something before someone gets to him he's got a hot temper he can't stand them at all they want to hurt him so there are plenty of cops trying to bring you two in all over punta Gorda and Port Charlotte. Well you did yesterday Dan was illegal I decided to do it and Trump they're coming for you you don't care you will later on you say it that was stupid. My son time to you Dan and you apparently fell for it and you wanted to call the police the whole time you been doing that to him and sit here trying to call the cops about something and pretty soon you'll be heard saying you regret it and a lot and everybody knows why okay already nobody has to hear it explained nobody wants to hear it explained they know you're too stupid people and they're going after you because you're so damn dumb yeah giant flaws you're thinking and huge inappropriate things you've done and they don't care who your character is but what you say you're up to all this other s*** you always do they're coming after you for f****** up and for other stuff now you're already screwed and you already have problems and you go ahead and you kidnap Lily and you're saying it's because she's trying to get in the house and stuff in fact you're trying to get sausage they have which you probably expend before you even saw them because you're so lame that's another reason why we don't want you doing anything there's no value for all this harassment it's very very low and he doesn't want it either you suck really bad and that's pretty much all there is to it so we're going to go after you idiots and Mac is going after you right now and he's got a special warrants out for your arrest and we're going to start up again in a minute

Thor Freya

hot take but imo saying "don't cancel me but-" is like saying you don't want to learn from your mistakes or harmful behavior. so if you lose a lot of people around you for that, don't be surprised.

it's like saying "forgive me for saying this but-" like don't force or pressure people into forgiving you for a potentially hurtful or otherwise offensive comment. understand that people may not forgive you and respect that. also consider shutting the fuck up in the first place.

that being said i think cancel culture thinks in black and white and drags you through the mud assuming you're inherently doubling down on whatever you said or did wrong instead of issuing the benefit of the doubt and realizing that sometimes people say shit without forethought. not saying intentions trump the repercussions of their actions but there's a huge difference between intentionally causing the harmful thing and unintentionally causing the harmful thing. because i think when you cause harm unintentionally, you have room for growth, whereas cancel culture barely lets their targets do so. i feel like cancel culture holds grudges against people of which some have evolved from the thing that got them cancelled, but cancel culture gives them no chance at a redemption arc, ya know?

imo the ideal kind of cancel culture is one that says "hey just so you know this comes off in a bad way because xyz, just wanted u to be aware of the kind of effect that has on others" instead of "guys block and report, this person is a predator/pedo/nazi/racist [insert other terms that have been liberally thrown around] and deserves to suffer for the rest of their life". like yes obviously there are people out there who deserve hell, perhaps actual pedo/nazi/racists etc, but cancel culture assumes that everyone guilty of something is as bad as those people because they lack the collective emotional intelligence to realize that not everyone who does something wrong is a predator, nazi, racist, whatever the accusation is. it's like societal BPD splitting.

Viren is either evil or just badly written

A Case Study

There’s been a few arguments and questions about Viren, his motivations, his actions, how he treats his children and I think the best way to really examine his character is to go back through the cannon material. 

It’s important we talk a little bit about King Harrow for starters- it’s pretty clear that one of Harrow’s biggest flaws is that he’s let Viren have no boundaries what-so EVER! When Harrow is having his royal portrait done (the one that does not include his family) he includes Viren. You might wanna say “yeah because they’re friends” but let’s really examine this with an IRL hypothetical situation.  Say you managed a company, your best friend sometimes comes to hang out and maybe offers you up some advice but at the end of the day it’s /your/ company /your/ job /your/ employees and it’s success or failure is /your/ responsibility. Maybe you’re the BEST of friends even are you gonna imply to that friend that they are on equal footing with you? Even if failures that happen aren’t their failures?  Stuff like having Viren be in his royal portrait is just kinda balls to the walls absurd when you think about the fact that he could have included his wife or that he didn’t include his wife yet included Viren because even the queen isn’t as special as Viren. Viren didn’t get to where he is in the series on his own, Harrow put his ass there and the first few episodes is where we see Harrow finally having had enough of Viren’s bullshit and calling out Viren for constantly pushing him in bad directions. 

Here are the big three that we know about as viewers: 1. Harrow listened to Viren’s advice about how to combat the famine and his wife died. She wasn’t even in agreement with the plan, she advised AGAINST it but he listened to Viren. 2. Harrow was persuaded by Viren to go seek revenge for his wife’s death 3. Harrow was persuaded by Viren that the egg needed to be destroyed

And while yeah, number one would have meant tons of people dying and we can MAYBE look past that as his motivations being in the right place we can clearly see that 2 and 3 did NOT need to happen. Harrow initially wasn’t even down for number 2 until Viren straight up MANIPULATED him into seeking revenge. You can’t even act for one second as if Viren didn’t obviously take Sarai’s death as an opportunity for this, he wasted zero seconds laying the ground work for it by taking her last breath. Who the fuck does that? You can be as practical a person as you want to be but there’s a line between practicality overruling emotions and just an outright lack of emotions and doesn’t instantly going  “oh shit you’re dying I need to get this for late uses!” kinda SCREAM lack of emotions? If anything what little we see of Sarai show us that she has an entirely different mindset to Viren and would that NOT make her an obstacle to him? We can take the example given and easily assume that “yeah I’ll bet she disagreed with him often and was quick to tell Harrow when she disagreed”

and now present day Harrow is going to die and he knows his son is in danger. King Harrow is fucking DONE with Viren’s shit and calls him out with his offer of “someone dying in his place” by saying “You wouldn't do it” because Harrow knows Viren better than the viewer knows Viren by this point. Harrow knows Viren isn’t going to just up and die in his place and he knows that if he does manage to live on his problems are going to get worse because so far every shortcut has led him into more problems. Now because Harrow has idiotically spent years allowing Viren to be his equal in decision making obviously Viren isn’t okay with this sudden turn- he’s allowed to be mad at this and hell, seeking some form of payback seems like a natural choice. Let’s say you spent years helping a friend run their business from behind the scenes and something your advised turned out to be bad and now your friend is placing all of the blame on you instead of actually running their business? You’d be cool with their kids getting killed .... oh no, wait you probably wouldn’t be cool with their fucking kids getting killed. And we’re gonna get to that in a minute. Also, Viren is pissed yet he keeps playing off as if he’s not, he plays off as if he might just go scrafice himself, he talks to his daughter as if it’ll be the LAST time he speaks to her. Is it because he things he might die? Maybe so. Is it because he thinks he might die for Harrow?  I doubt that. but Viren be talking as if he’ll die because a few things could end him 1. Being in the way by accident 2. Attempting to kill harrow and the guards kill him 3. Getting caught killing Harrow and then put on trial Even Viren’s actions during the raid, the way he talks to Callum “your world is changing” Viren wasn’t coming back to save Harrow, the only way a viewer is possibly still going to think at this point that Viren was maybe wanting to save Harrow in ANY capacity is because they either haven’t seen season 3 or somehow just REALLY wanna believe that people are good deep deep down on the inside. At this point Viren should also be tipped off that the kids knowing about the egg mean the egg is about to go missing but he’s oh so focused on what’s going on with Harrow that he doesn’t put much focus on that detail. No, he’s well aware that Harrow isn’t gonna survive because his goal is to make sure Harrow doesn’t survive and he’s so focused on this that he doesn’t even entertain the idea that the egg might be getting rushed out the door. We can say maybe he underestimates Callum but he also has no idea who else knows this information. but again- Viren is focused on making sure Harrow dies be it by him or by the elves.  Now let’s talk about Viren’s exchange with Callum. Callum is gonna tell Harrow about the egg and Viren says “what makes you think he doesn’t already know?” now that’s a good point but since season 3 we know that’s a god damned lie. Harrow doesn’t know! Actually even without seeing season 3- if Harrow really knew about the egg then why was it so important for Callum to NOT be able to yell about it? Why silence him? (Also how inept is the royal guard to have been ordered to take the princes out BEFORE all the bullshit started yet they didn’t manage to do that? Ya’ll can’t wrangle 2 kids?)  Now MAYBE you could say Viren didn’t need Callum drawing the attention to the room where Harrow is and that it would put them in danger which would be fair, but NOT ONCE do we hear Viren say “shut up you’ll get us killed, you’ll get him killed.” no he goes off on a rant about how he thinks Callum is spoilled and how “tonight your world changes” (let’s also note how MULTIPLE witnesses hear this shit and not one of them is like “uhhhh bro we’re SAVING the king. nope they’re just all “yeah i guess he’s gonna die huh we’ll just stand here). Soren though- Soren pushes Callum out of the way and takes a spear doing so. without jamming it down our throats we get to see Soren doing his job like a good boy! Also let’s dog ear the fact that Soren wasn’t just gonna let Callum get hurt and I think that’s interesting because of reasons I’ll bring up again later. During that scuffle Viren even seems worried when Callum’s voice goes back to him, he has this look of “oh no” - I mean the BIG oh no SHOULD be that elven assassins are attacking them but Viren is CLEARLY worried about Callum being able to yell- so yeah I can’t see any evidence of Harrow knowing about the egg because aside from one CLEARLY-MEANT-TO-MANIPULATE-THE-SITUATION-AND-THE-OPINIONS-OF-THE-GUARDS-AROUND-THEM line we have NO other reason in story canon to believe that Harrow might know.  Also go back and REALLY watch Viren in that scene! He’s not fighting, he’s not defending he’s backing the fuck away because Viren isn’t about to die for Harrow and MAYBE Viren already killed Harrow before the elves got there or he’s at least made sure to stay out of their way and not assist with any magic at all.  Given how Viren didn’t even let Harrow’s body get cold before trying to outright declare himself king it’s pretty obvious that at the very least Harrow’s death is the perfect opportunity for Viren to seize power and at the largest point it’s a total coup. Something a LOT of people have brought up is how it’s strange that the Dragon Queen was super chill at the end of seasons 3 about humans even though she was supposed to have sent the moonshadow elves... what if she WASN’T the one that sent them? We could reasonable assume at this point that perhaps Viren could find the means of foraging contact ordering the assassination. and why? Well why does Viren want anything power wise in the series? because he THINKS he’s doing what’s best for humanity and while this might EXPLAIN him mindset it doesn’t justify his actions. Ya’ll know who else believed he was doing the right thing? Adolf Hitler. Believing you’re doing the right thing isn’t the fucking same as doing the right thing. Even the way Viren handles his enemies is unjust; a moonshadow elf that “participated in killing the king” let’s lock him up and interrogate him... I might free him if he tells me about some of my spooky stuff- oh he won’t? Okay I guess it’ll put him in a state of limbo with a bunch of other elves.  People who are trying to protect their society would have just excueted after attempting to interrogate or kept them as a normal prison not put them in fucking limbo. This is a great example of something a sick fuck would do not someone who just “has a different idea about how to help his people” Now if you’ve somehow made it this far let’s talk about Viren as his kids! He sent Claudia and Soren after the princes because people were on to his bullshit and rightfully suspicious and his kids who love him aren’t gonna be like “ohhh maybe dad is bad”. Sure Soren is a good fighter and Claudia is highly skilled at magic but unless he was backed into a corner he would have been putting more resources into finding the egg if he truly thought it was important (and he seems to truly think that obviously). There’s been some posts saying he wasn’t manipulating Soren when it came to “return with the news that the princes have died” but my god the made said it MULTIPLE times and then said “I know you can do this, I believe in you”... let me remind ya’ll that like 2 days before this Soren took a spear for Callum, yeah he picked on him and called him Step-Prince for years but it’s clear that Soren was still on good terms with him and didn’t hate him so Soren wasn’t just gonna be like “yeah guess i gotta kill em for humanity” no he had weeks to think of his dad saying “I know you can do it”  how many of your parents told you to kill the kids that lived next door and said “I know you can do it”? Here’s the definition of manipulation just in case we needed a refresher:  nounnoun: manipulation; plural noun: manipulations 1.the action of manipulating something in a skillful manner."the format allows fast picture manipulation" 2.the action of manipulating someone in a clever or unscrupulous way."there was no deliberate manipulation of visitors' emotions" regardless of how much Viren might of thought that humanity’s best bet was to not have another child ruler he still had to tell his son he “believed in him” and that he needed to make sure that Ezran was dead. He also told Soren this in such as way that if it EVER came to light he could say “you misunderstood” this is why he DIDN’T tell Claudia to do this but instead told her the egg was more important than Soren which suits his narrative and fits into his belief that the egg was a powerful weapon. But you for sure DON’T go from “oh let me help you impress my sister by letting you knock me over” to “oh okay I guess I can make sure you don’t come home” without being manipulated. Soren was manipulated into believing Viren’s ideology about how it was best for humanity if Ezran and Callum didn’t come home. If this all doesn’t convince you that the series either wants us to think Viren is a villian or that the writers have no idea how to make a “conflicted anti hero” then let’s look at his response to the kingdoms not wanting to go to war with him? Sending dark magic elves to kill rulers. because that’s something someone who only had good intentions would do kill political leaders that disagreed with him do I need to bring up more IRL bad guys who also did this? Do I??????? I need to call out some writing here though because to do most of this Viren HAD to have inside help and the only time we really get hints of this is in season 3 and those hints are weak at best, would it have really killed them to animate a couple of guards passing a not or some shit for Viren or straight up supporting him in some of his actions? Several of them watched the incident with Callum and I find it hard to believe only Soren lived so clearly guards had knowledge but why no at least confirm ONCE that Viren had supporters just like how islamaphobes in the US support radicals and support lies and propaganda because they’re afraid? then season 3- season 3 if this STILL isn’t enough for you in season 3 Viren doesn’t give 2 fucks that Soren left- he clearly still cares that Claudia is around but it really seems like he only cares because she’s helping him get shit done we have only seen her disappoint Viren once in the series and that was by not bringing the egg home and even then he doesn’t stay super upset because Aaravos is like “ohhh spooky daughter very good at magics” and we see Viren get defensive but how  much of that is genuine and how much of that is him trying to tell Aaravos who is in charge in their relationship? So he’s either a villain like Soren said or the writing isn’t so great because there sure aren’t many reasons for us to think otherwise even the instances where he saved lives all came with gains for him. Seriously I dare you to give me examples of Viren doing good things we see in canon that have NO gains for him! Because I don’t think there have been any. it’s like Soren says, you wanna think he’s doing stuff for the right reason and you wanna think he’s a good guy but he’s a villain and it doesn’t matter what his initial intentions were because he’s NOT doing good things.  Do I need to go on even MORE?

Temptation

masterlist

pairing - silas x forbes,fem!reader

type - fluffy smut, angst

note / request - “can i request a silas fic where the reader is Caroline's lil sis and Silas likes to annoy her, and he likes her a lot. Then Care and Damon are always into protective sibling modes where silas is around y/n. So one day they catch y/n making out w him, and then theres a lot of banter again” this was really fun to write! im not gonna rewrite background info lol so make sure to read the request. also the timeline of events is a little fuzzy so i apologise if i make a mistake. enjoy :)

summary - damon and caroline find you making out with the enemy, who just happens to be silas 

warnings / includes - language, sibling fighting, steamy make out, sexual tension heheh, you’re in your senior year of high school, suggestive

————

*gif isn't mine*

“Hello, doll face,” Silas greeted behind you.

You jumped at his voice, but quickly settled down. “Hey, Silas,” you said dully.

“Why the long face, princess?” Silas asked. 

“Because you’re here,” you said. “Oh, that’s so mean. You’ve hurt my feelings,” Silas pouted. 

“Well, I’m not supposed to be talking to you anyways,” you stated matter-of-factly. 

“Ugh, you are such a goody two shoes. It’s cute, but annoying. Why not break the rules? I know you want to,” Silas said, leaning over the top of the couch, his face going right next to your’s.

You inhaled deeply, your heart pounding against your chest. You were attracted to him, no doubt about that, but if you even considered shaking his hand, Caroline and Damon would kill you. And you definitely didn’t want that.

“I can read your mind, Y/n. I know you want to kiss me, so go ahead,” he whispered. 

You didn’t turn your head, but your eyes wandered to the left. You got a good view of his lips, which made butterflies flutter in your stomach. It was so tempting to close the gap between you two, but you knew better than that. You turned your head the other way, standing up from the couch. You packed up your school work, deciding to leave the Salvatore house and go to your own. 

You were at the Salvatore house because Damon had offered to help you with your history homework. You took the offer and you two had been studying for a few hours. He had left you for 30 minutes to go and get you two lunch. In those 30 minutes, Silas had wandered into the house, looking for you. 

You pulled out your phone, texting Damon to go to your house instead of back to his. 

“Where are ya going?” Silas asked. 

“Home,” you mumbled, keeping your head down and walking to the front door. 

Silas stood in front of the door, making you look up at him with an annoyed frown. 

“Please let me go,” you said. 

“No, I’d rather see you beg,” Silas smirked. You rolled your eyes. “Please. Damon is waiting for me at my house with food.”

“Oh! Well, why don’t I just go with you, then? I’d love to see Damon.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you chuckled. “Why not? I can just pretend to be his brother! I’ve fooled lots of people already,” Silas smiled. 

“I think Damon will notice. Especially if I’m there,” you said.  “I’ll just sneak in then,” Silas suggested. 

“No, Silas! I just want to go home alone. Leave me alone,” you said sternly, looking him straight in the eyes. You went to push him out of the way, but his hands grabbed ahold of your wrists. His strong grip made goosebumps rush up your forearms.

Silas couldn’t help but smirk. You rarely ever had outbursts. He thought it was incredibly sexy and cute when you put your foot down. Especially when it pertained to him. 

“You are so adorable when you’re mad. You're so small, too. I can’t help but not take you seriously,” Silas chuckled. 

Your eyes went wide and you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You masked your embarrassment by groaning and running your fingers through your hair in frustration. “Just let me go! Please. I’m hungry and tired and really need to study for my test.”

“What is your test over, anyways? History? Cause if so, I could help you out. I bet I know more than Damon,” Silas said. 

“No thanks, bro, she’s all taken care of,” Damon said from behind Silas. 

“You tattled that I was here! So naughty of you,” Silas glared at you playfully. 

“Step out of the way, Silas. Otherwise I will snap your neck,” Damon sneered. 

Silas sighed. “Fine! I’m only obeying because I want to kiss you before I die.”

“Fat chance of that. C’mon, Y/n. I got you a burger and those onion rings you like,” Damon said.

“Thanks, Damon,” you smiled gratefully at him. 

“See you later, doll face!” Silas called out as you walked to your car. 

“I’m sorry about him. I should make you the owner of the house,” Damon said. 

You shrugged, “It’s alright. He would never actually hurt me.”

“Well, we don’t know that,” Damon said. 

“Yes, we do. Sure, he might threaten to kill me sometimes, but his liking for me trumps any chance of him killing me. I don’t fear him, he’s just extremely annoying,” you said, getting in your car.

“Agreed,” Damon said. 

You two drove to your house, eating lunch and studying for a few more hours. Caroline and Elena then came home, talking to you and Damon about a party at the Grill. 

“Can I come?” You asked. 

“Um, yeah, sure,” Caroline nodded. 

You smiled excitedly. You barley went to any of these parties. You usually were at home studying or hiding away in your house because Caroline and Damon were always worried for you, but Caroline figured that since she and Damon and everyone else would be there, they would be able to protect you. 

So you took a quick shower and got ready for the night. You put on ripped jeans and a black, spaghetti-strapped top with a jean jacket. You put on heeled boots and put on some silver jewellery, as well as lined your eyes with eyeliner and painted your lips red with lipstick.

“Oh, you look so cute!” Elena exclaimed as you walked out of your room. 

“Thanks, Elena,” you smiled at her. 

“No, go change,” Caroline said. “Why?” You frowned. 

“Because Silas could be there and that outfit would tempt him even more,” Damon explained. 

You rolled your eyes. “So when Klaus was here, Caroline could wear anything, but I guess since I’m younger and a human, I can’t? That’s so unfair.”

“She’s right, guys. I hate Silas as much as you two, but let her dress how she wants. We’ll be there to protect her. Plus, if Silas thinks she’s hot, then good for her. She is,” Elena agreed with you. 

You smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she smiled. 

“Ugh, fine! But no drinking, okay?” Caroline said. 

“Ay, ay captain,” you said. You four went out to Elena’s SUV, driving to the Grill. 

Loud music blasted into your ears as soon as you stepped inside. You smiled as you saw everything dancing and having the time of their life. 

“Shots?” Caroline suggested. 

“Hell yeah!” Elena squealed. 

“Iced tea for you, Y/n?” Caroline asked. “Yes, please,” you nodded. 

“Alright, you guys go to the pool table. I’ll be back,” Caroline said. 

“Where is Stefan?” You asked, looking around the bar and walking to the pool table that was conveniently empty. 

“Right here!” 

You turned around, smiling once you saw Stefan in a grey shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. You went to hug him, but Damon stopped you. 

“Ah, ah, ah. How do we know it isn’t Silas?” Damon asked. 

Stefan rolled his eyes. He pulled out a blood bag from his pocket, taking it and drinking it quickly. 

“Alright, alright, we know it’s you. Cool it on the blood, brother. Don’t want to go into a bloodlust,” Damon said, taking the empty bag and throwing it in the trash. 

“Well, I don’t really know how else to prove I’m not Silas,” Stefan sighed. “Can I get that hug now?”

You smiled and nodded, wrapping your arms around him. 

Between everyone else, Damon and Stefan were your best friends. They were like the brothers you’ve never had, protecting you and teasing you whenever they felt like it was necessary. You hadn’t seen Stefan in a while since he was found in the safe, but you were glad to see he was okay. 

“Glad to see you’re okay, Stef,” you said, pulling back. 

“And I’m glad to see you haven’t fallen victim to my doppelgänger,” Stefan smiled. 

Caroline came back with shots, pleasantly surprised to see Stefan. 

“Stefan! You’re here! Oh, my God the whole gang is here!” She squealed, putting down the shots and engulfing Stefan is a big hug. 

“I’m excited to be here, too. This is the first time I’ve really gone out for fun. I hope nothing goes wrong,” Stefan joked. 

“Well, if any of you spot Silas, make sure to not let him get close to Y/n. We don’t know what he could do to her,” Caroline said.

You rolled your eyes at her concern, but didn’t say anything. You knew it would end up with you two arguing and that was the last thing anything wanted. Forbes were very controlling and heated when they got angry.

You took your tea and sipped on it as Damon downed the first shot. 

“Wait, are we playing in teams?” You asked. 

“Yeah, which one do you wanna be one? Damon and I’s?” Stefan asked. 

“Definitely yours,” you said. “Oh, what! You know I win all the time,” Damon said. 

“Yeah, but when you lose you get so mad. It’s hilarious,” you giggled.

“True, it is cute,” Elena smirked. 

Damon rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You two are so annoying.”

You smiled and played with your friends for a little while. It came to a time where everyone was too tipsy to where they could barely walk, so you were in charge of getting the drinks. Damon and Caroline, despite being pretty much drunk, stayed close behind you. 

“Hey, Matt,” you smiled at the boy working behind the bar. “Hey, Y/n! Let me guess, more shots and another iced tea?” He asked. 

“You guessed right,” you chuckled. 

“So, how is school?” He asked. 

“Pretty good. History is kicking my ass, per usual. It’s weird because I’m surrounded by history buffs,” you said. 

“Well, I know you have Damon helping you, but Stefan is a lot better at tutoring, in my opinion. I know he’s been having a rough time, though,” Matt said. 

“He has, which is why I should be your tutor,” Silas smirked next to you. 

You jumped slightly, surprised to see him there. You looked at him, seeing him wearing a dark navy shirt and jeans. Your eyes stared at his biceps and his strong, broad shoulders. Once you noticed him smirking at you, you looked back to the drinks Matt was filling. 

“Now I get the silent treatment? C’mon, not fair,” Silas whined.

“You shouldn’t be here, man,” Matt said. 

“Yeah, and what are you gonna do about, it huh?” Silas taunted, looking at Matt with narrow, menacing eyes. 

Matt rolled his eyes, putting the tequila shots and your drink on a tray and handing them to you. 

“Thanks, Matt,” you smiled.

You took the tray, ready to turn around and walk away from Silas. He put his arm up, planning to grab your arm to stop you, but Caroline and Damon used their vamp speed to push him back. 

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Caroline sneered. Veins were circulating under her eyes and she bared her fangs. 

Silas smirked, not at all fazed. “Oh, please, I could kill both of you so fast, you couldn’t have chance to say bye to Y/n. Now, let me go, Damon.”

Damon’s grip on Silas’s arms tightened. “Not a chance. We’re going outside and I’m gonna make sure you are far away from here.”

Damon then took Silas to the exit, Silas looking back at you and giving you a wink. Caroline groaned in disgust and took the tray away from you. 

“You okay?” She asked. 

“I’m fine, Care! He wasn’t going to hurt me,” you glared at her. 

“You don’t know that! Why are you defending him? Doesn't he annoy you?” Caroline asked. 

“Yeah, he does,” you said, your voice trailing off at the end, alluding to something else.

Caroline stared at you intensely, gasping once she put the pieces together. “You… You like him? Ugh, why! He’s a monster.”

“I don’t like him! God, why is that always your first assumption?” You asked.

“Because you obviously are having physical reactions to him. We all see the way you look down in shyness when he flirts with you, and we can hear your heart racing. We just hoped you wouldn’t give in,” Caroline sighed. 

“I’m not! I don’t like him in any way, okay? Just because I defend someone doesn’t mean I automatically like them!”

“That’s what you always say! You need to get rid of those feelings, Y/n. He’s not a good person.”

You closed your eyes in frustration, sighing roughly. “I’m going to the bathroom to cool down. When I come out, you better not say anything else about me liking Silas.”

You spun on your heels, storming off to the bathroom. You washed your hands, putting them to your forehead to cool yourself down. 

“Feelings for Silas, please,” you scoffed to yourself. 

“She’s right. I know it, you know it. Everyone does.”

You looked in the mirror, jumping once you saw Silas behind you. You turned around quickly. 

“H-How did you get in here?” You asked.

“I knocked Damon out,” he shrugged. 

“What?! Is he okay?” You asked. “Yes, he’s fine. I know that you would hate me if I killed one of your friends,” he said.

You sighed, “I have to go. They’re waiting for me.” You went to the door, but Silas once again blocked the entrance. 

“You gotta be quicker, Y/n. Someday you might find yourself in real trouble,” Silas smiled down at you. 

“You are real trouble,” you retorted.

“Oh, we both know that’s not true. If I was then you’d be screaming for your life. But you’re just standing there, looking so incredibly kissable,” Silas said, shamelessly looking at your lips. 

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you looked down to hide your face. “No, I just don’t want to make a scene,” you mumbled. 

Silas put his hand on your chin, making your eyes meet his. “While that is true, you also having feelings for me.”

You stepped away from him, his hand falling to his side. “I don’t. You’re evil and cheated on your girlfriend. No girl wants to be with a guy like that.”

“Elena practically cheated on Stefan emotionally, you’re still friends with her,” Silas stated. 

You furrowed your brows, not sure what to say back. He was correct, but you knew that wasn’t the point. You needed to get out of there otherwise Caroline and Damon would freak out. 

Silas walked towards you slowly, like you were his prey that he was stalking. You turned around, not wanting to look at him. Silas grinned, seeing as his plan would work out even better now that you were facing the mirrors. 

He put his hand on your bare arm, dragging his fingertips up your skin. 

“I’m so glad you took off the leather jacket. Your outfit looks so much better without it,” he murmured. 

You immediately froze. Your eyes were glued to the two of you in the mirror. You watched as his hand went up to your shoulders, pressing down lightly on your muscles. 

“Shouldn’t you be running, Y/n?” Silas asked, moving. your hair out of the way so he could get a better view of your neck. 

You knew you should, but his touch felt so good. It weirdly calmed your nerves down, but also made you flustered as hell. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to stay in this bathroom and let him take you. Silas smiled at your thoughts, lowering his lips down to your shoulder. 

“I can totally take you right here if you want,” he whispered, his lips making contact with your skin. 

You inhaled sharply, finding yourself stumbling back into his chest. His other arm went around your waist, holding you close to him.

“Your skin is so soft, doll face,” he said while kissing up your neck. 

You watched him in the mirror, your stomach doing flips. Your legs felt weak and heat gathered in between your thighs. You had honestly wanted to kiss him this whole time. You decided a few more minutes in the bathroom couldn’t hurt. 

So you turned around, crashing your lips onto his. Silas smiled as you kissed him, his hands trailing down to your legs. He lifted you up with ease, taking you to the sink and placing you on the counter. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands running themselves through his hair. 

“Silas,” you breathed out as you felt his hands on your thighs, going higher and higher. 

“You like that, princess?” He hummed, his fingers going higher until they reached your clothed entrance. He pulled away, grinning and looking you in the eyes. 

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, pulling his face close to yours roughly.

Your lips collided again, your heart and brain exploding. Kissing him felt like heaven.

Silas mirrored your neediness and put his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You pressed your chest up to him more, your hands going down from his head to the bottom of his shirt. You lifted it up, Silas pulling away so you could pull it off of him. You sat back and admired his abs and muscles, excitement growing in between your thighs. 

You dove down to his neck, kissing and sucking lightly. Your hands explored his chest, tracing along his prominate abs. Silas breathed heavily into your ear, groaning as you found his sweet spot. 

“Oh, Y/n,” he panted. 

You smirked against his skin. Before you could put your hands on his belt, the bathroom door burst open. You saw Caroline and Damon standing, eyes huge and mouths agape. 

“What the hell!” Caroline shrieked. 

Your eyes widened and you pushed Silas away from you, getting off the counter. 

“Really, Y/n? You pick him to make out with in the bathroom?” Damon groaned. 

“It is just happened,” you shrugged sheepishly. 

“Yeah, she’s a really good kisser,” Silas smirked. “I never would have expected it since she’s shy and all, but man, she is wil-”

“You shut the hell up. And you,” Caroline pointed to you. “Are going home. now.”

“He wasn’t hurting me, Care,” you said. 

Caroline looked at you two incredulously. “You’re making her say this! You pressured her, didn’t you!” She pointed to Silas. 

“He’s not! I was the one who kissed him first,” you admitted. “Yeah, but I helped a little,” Silas smirked. 

Caroline made her vampire face and lunged at Silas, to which Damon pulled her back. 

“Alright, blondie, why don’t you take Y/n home and I’ll deal with Silas, okay?” Damon said. 

Caroline huffed and nodded, grabbing you by the arm roughly. 

“We’ll continue another time, doll face!” Silas exclaimed. 

“No, you will not,” Damon glared.

————

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merry christmas, ya filthy animal

Hi guys! This is my contribution for @hockeynetwork holiday gift exchange, it’s 2.5k of sweet Tito fluff for @dreamypeaches and I hope you all like it. As always, I read all the tags and love love hearing your feedback, so hop into my inbox and reblog if you like it! 

word count: 2.5k+

Everyone has a favorite movie. Some go for a childhood classic like Cinderella, some find an indie documentary from a film class in college, some inherit their parents’ love for the Princess Bride or Casablanca. Not you. For you, there was no movie that could hold a candle to Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. You had watched it for the first time maybe around 7 or 8 years old, and had been hooked ever since, and even Donald Trump’s five-second cameo couldn’t taint the love you had for it. But your favorite part, other than the large cheese pizza and stretch limousine, was the end. The Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, Kevin and his mom finally reuniting after she moved heaven and earth to get back to her son by Christmas. 

It wasn’t your first Christmas in New York City, but it was the first one where it really felt like it was your city, like you belonged to it. And it was your first Christmas with Tito. You had started dating earlier in the year, just as the team was starting to make the big push for playoffs and two months or so before he left to Montréal for the summer. It was strange while he was there, not just because he was hundreds of miles away and in a whole different country, but because the two of you had only been exclusive for a few months and were set to be separated for three. You flew up for Canada Day and met his parents, and he came back for a week in August, but the interim was filled with more FaceTime calls and lonely nights than either of you would care to admit. 

But summer was long over, the leaves had fallen from all the London planes, and the temperature had started to drop below freezing even in the day. The cold weather wasn’t always great; you didn’t love having to scrape the ice off of your windshield or trudge through the slush when it was too early for the snow to stick to the ground, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. One thing that winter changed was date plans. Unless you hit it at just the right time, coffee in the morning was more prone to freeze your fingers off than warm you up, having dinner outside — normally one of your favorite things to do together — was all-but banned after November, and you could only walk around Central Park so many times. And it wasn’t for lack of trying; you knew for a fact that Anthony had spent hours on plane rides trying to figure out what was open, flipping in between Google and the weather app. He was making an effort, though, and that’s what mattered. 

Which is why you weren’t particularly surprised when he showed up at your apartment door on Christmas Eve, twelve hours after he asked you if you had plans that night. You didn’t and it wasn’t a game day, so he told you to dress warm and be ready by 8. You were waiting by the door five minutes early. He greeted you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, closing the door behind you. “Did you already eat? I know it’s pretty late already but I think I saw a few food trucks by where we’re going if you’re still hungry.”

You nodded your head. “Anthony. It’s 8 at night. ‘Course I’ve already eaten.”

He ducked his head in embarrassment, the slightest pink appearing on his cheeks. “Should have figured.”

“It’s fine,” you said, slipping your hand into his and smiling. “You going to tell me where we’re going, though?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I did,” he said. 

You should have known by the duffel bag in the backseat what his plans were, but some thirty minutes later and he was pulling into a parking lot off of West 49th, shouldering the bag and looking over to you with a grin. “What’s a Christmas in New York without ice skating at Rockefeller Center?” 

You rolled your eyes, trying desperately to keep in a laugh. “You don’t think it’s a bit unfair? You’re paid buckets of money to balance on knife shoes and the last time I went ice skating was,” you tried to remember, “two years ago? Three?” 

Tito shrugged, taking your hand as you walked out the door of the parking lot. “What’s life without a little risk?” Whether the Harry Potter quote was intentional or not, you weren’t sure. 

“Fair,” you conceded. “You’ll have to look out for me, though.” He promised he would, handing his card over to the cashier, who in turn passed you your skates. Anthony led you over to a bench, grabbing a bag of roasted chestnuts from a street vendor before sitting down. You ate a few before tying your skates, swinging one up on his thigh for inspection. “Do these past muster, inspector?”

Anthony took one look at them before undoing your knot, adjusting your foot in his lap while rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “You didn’t tie them tight enough, you could break an ankle in these, babe, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?” You shook your head; he pulled you up to a standing position, leading you over to the gate to get onto the ice. “Don’t feel bad if you’ve got to hang onto the side for a little bit, it doesn’t look like the zamboni’s been over it in awhile so the ice is probably pretty chippy.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m not completely hopeless, Anthony. I’m no professional,” you half-slipped while taking your first step onto the ice, clinging to the railing, “clearly, but I’m an adult and I can handle myself.” 

He held his hands up in surrender, gliding backwards on the ice before stopping. “I know you can.” The two of you skated for about an hour before taking a break, sipping cups of piping hot apple cider while sitting on a bench off to the side of the rink. “There’s always that one person who feels the need to go in the center and show off, huh?” Tito mused, glancing towards center ice, where a woman was indeed in the middle of a spin so quick and intricate you had no clue how she didn’t throw up from the sheer centrifugal force of it all. 

“Says the professional hockey player,” you quipped. 

“I’d go insane if I tried to do anything like that,” Anthony responded, drinking the last of his cider before dropping the cup into the recycling bin. “Just about the only thing hockey players and figure skaters have in common is our ability to skate in a straight line.”

You laughed, squeezing his arm. “Have a little more faith in yourself than that, Anthony.” 

“Mhm,” he said, noncommittally like he didn’t quite believe you. “You ready to get going, or do you think you’ve got more in you?” 

You looked down at your watch; it was 9:30; the rink didn’t close for another hour and plenty of people were still milling about. “I think I’ve got a little gas left in the tank.” 

Sounds good,” he said, taking your hand and doing an extremely admirable job of not laughing at your attempts to hobble over to the ice on your skates. “One of these days I’m going to get you to go backwards,” he said as he stepped on, gliding back easily before coming to a quick stop. 

“I’ve just stopped having to hold onto your hands like a five-year-old, Beau,” you said, rolling your eyes as you took a moment to find your balance on the slippery ice. In your defense, he had been right about the lack of resurfacing on the ice; the skate attendant said the zamboni only came around once a day, shortly before opening, and the lack of smooth ice couldn’t have done you any favors. But you were determined to prove yourself, to show him and everyone else in Rockefeller Center that you were a fully grown and capable adult who could skate for a few feet without needing assistance. Which you did, for approximately two minutes, trailing ten or fifteen feet behind Anthony as he skated backwards, executing poorly-attempted jumps and spins for no reason other than your amusement. You were doing fine, until the toe pick of your skate caught in a chip in the ice and you tumbled down, down to the ice before Anthony could skate over and catch you,. Down, trying to break your fall with your hands. Pain radiated up your left wrist, the cold of the ice already beginning to melt into your jeans. 

“Oh my God,” Anthony said, kneeling in front of you as several passers-by looked over in concern. “You okay? That looked like a pretty bad fall.” 

You nodded, trying to push yourself up to a standing position, but the second you put pressure on your hand, you let out a sharp shriek. “Fuck,” you said, moving to rub your wrist. Not a good idea; the pain only got worse when you touched it. 

His brow only furrowed more. “If you put your wrist out to break the fall, you could have broken it or something. We should go to the hospital.”

You shook your head. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Tito,” you said as the two of you skated off the ice, your wrist hanging limply by your side as you bent down to try and untie the skate laces. He looked up at your face, seeing you biting your lip with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you tried to pull them. 

“Hurts to pull?” You knew it was no use trying to lie to him, so you nodded. He pushed the sleeve of your jacket up as gently as he could after untying your skates, handling your hand and wrist with as little pressure as he could. “Not exactly how I thought I’d be kneeling in front of you,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. You knew he had only said it to distract you, try to get your mind off of the inordinate amounts of pain you were in, but the words still made your heart skip a beat. His fingers moved feather-light over your skin, keeping an eye on your facial expressions as he felt. “Hurts to close your hand?” You tried; you nodded. “Hurts to turn your wrist?” A second nod. “Has it gotten worse or better since you fell?”

“Worse,” you managed to squeak out. 

He bit his tongue in concentration. “Shit. Yeah, we should go to the hospital.” You knew it was no use to argue, even as you weakly kept telling him it was probably just a sprain that would heal on its own as he herded you into the car, looking up the waiting times of Manhattan emergency rooms. “The ER wait at Lenox Hill is twenty minutes, it’s like two miles away,” he said, puting the car into reverse and backing out of the parking lot. Of course, two miles in New York City on Christmas Eve really meant fifteen minutes, and by the time he parked at the hospital and you were walking into the ER, it was just past 11. And of course, an ER wait time of “twenty minutes” the day before Christmas meant that, as a relatively low-priority case, you weren’t seen for well over forty. “I feel terrible about this,” Anthony said, slumping back in the chair to the side as you sat on the exam table. 

“Not your fault,” you said emphatically. “Could have happened to anyone. Literally anyone, Tito,” you looked over at him; he still looked guilty. “It could have just as easily been you, if you’d hit the chip at the wrong angle or there was some kind of slippery patch you weren’t expecting. And,” you added as he opened his mouth, “you were too far away to catch me.” Your expression softened. “I know you would have if you could have, but I’m sure it’s not hurt too bad and I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up over it. I’ll be okay.” 

The nurse practitioner chose that moment to poke her head through the curtain, calling your name. You nodded. She flipped open your chart. “I’m Emily, I’ll be taking care of you tonight. It says here you’ve got a wrist injury?” You nodded, explaining what had happened. She pulled a pair of gloves on, fingers moving over your wrist. “With what I’m seeing and how you’re rating your pain, I think we’re probably looking at a bad sprain or a break, but we’ll have to get an X-ray to confirm.” Fifteen minutes later, you were in and out of the radiology suite, and Emily was looking at the images on a tablet. She leaned over the table, pointing to the images on the screen. “Okay, so what you’ve got is called a Colles’ fracture, it’s a break in the radius and they’re actually super common, by far the most common type of wrist break we see. Yours isn’t too bad, so I’d say it can come off in six weeks or so.” She left for a minute to get the casting supplies. Ten minutes later, your entire lower arm was covered in cotton and fiberglass wrap tape. You wiggled your fingers towards your boyfriend. “I think purple’s really my color, don’t you?” you said, nodding towards your cast. 

You saw him crack a smile, his first since the accident. “It’s beautiful, babe.” Fifteen minutes and more than your fair share of paperwork later, you had handed over your insurance information and gotten the okay to leave, with strict instructions to keep the cast dry and call if you had any problems. 

“I think this definitely wins as the most interesting date I’ve ever been on,” you said as the two of you crossed the parking lot. 

“I’ll have you agree with you on that one,” Anthony replied. “I’m glad it wasn’t anything more serious, though. I would have felt even worse.”

You nodded. “You and me both.” Anthony looked down at his watch as he held your good hand, smiling when he saw the time. “What is it?” you asked curiously. 

“Guess there was too much going on in there to keep track of time. It’s 1:37 AM.” 

The painkillers they had given you had kept the pain in your wrist to a dull ache, but all was forgotten as you realized what it meant, what it being past midnight meant, and you couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across your face. “It’s Christmas?” you said, almost like a question. Nothing could extinguish your love for the holiday: not the freezing cold air nipping at your nose or the apple cider that was so hot it burnt your tongue or the fact that you went out for a night with your boyfriend and came back with a broken wrist. You had him, and that was enough. 

Tito laughed, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips as he unlocked the car. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Despair

  Hey hey, guess who’s back and finally had time to write! Happy Twin Tuesday! This one is...current, I’ll say. That’s all I’m going to say.

Summary: 01/06/2021. Rami and Sami can’t believe their eyes. They cope the only way they know how.

 Tags: @the-real-ramimalekpeen @xmxisxforxmaybe @killerqueengigi @txmel @laminy @ramimedley @rathernotmyname @ramilicious @sherlollydramoine @edteche2 @hah0106

---

Sami’s phone was ringing, he could hear it vibrating in his bag from he stood next to his desk, surveying his thirty students, their attention quickly diminishing. He ignored it, even as it rang a second time. 

“Alright guys-hey, don’t pack up yet, this is important-reading for tonight is chapter 12, your essays on Slaughterhouse Five are due Friday, so don’t forget.” There were groans heard from around the room, and Sami continued, “and no, I won’t be accepting any late papers; I gave you a month and a half for this. That’s more than generous, get it done.”

There were more groans and Sami smirked inwardly to himself as the bell rang and students began shuffling out the door, with a few calls of “see ya, Mr. Malek!” and Sami smiled. “Yeah, have a good day guys. Nice work today.”

When the last student was out the door, Sami took a moment to himself, glad he now had a free period before his next class. He cleared his throat, and began erasing the notes from the smartboard in preparation for the next round, when his phone vibrated and he remembered someone was trying to reach him, idly wondering what was so important that someone would call him at work.

Skimming his notifications, he frowned. Three texts from Rami, a missed call from him, and two texts from friends which he ignored for the time being, instead reading Rami’s messages:

“I know you’re at work, but you need to see this.” and underneath, in a separate message, a link to a CNN article that read “Rioters break windows and breach US Capitol.”

Sami stared, bewildered, and then read the third message Rami had sent.

“Turn on the news.”

Sami reread the headline, clicking the link Rami had sent, and he skimmed the article, his mind reeling.

“What the fuck...?”

Rami’s response was instant:

“You need to turn on the fucking news. Now.”

Sami wasted no time in rushing to the staff room, thanking his stars he had a break for the next forty minutes. It didn’t surprise him that nearly a quarter of the staff were already there, and he slipped inside, spotting a few of his colleagues from the English department. Even though the second bell had rung, no one in the room bothered to move, their eyes transfixed on the news coverage blaring from the TV. And as Sami turned his gaze to watch too, he felt his stomach sink in dread.

There were a cacophony of murmurs around the room, Sami catching tidbits here and there.

“What are we going to do?”

“There’s nothing we can do right now-”

“No, we can’t just-someone has to explain to the kids-”

“No, they’ll find out soon enough, we keep teaching like normal-”

“This is a high school,” one of Sami’s friends in the history department finally sighed tiredly. “You really think those kids don’t know by now? They have social media and cell phones. They know. And we can go about like usual, but this is something we’re all going to be talking about tomorrow.”

Sami’s eyes drifted back to the television, watching intently as he drowned everyone else out. They were inside the building now, hoards of them, a never ending sight. Sami watched with wide, disbelieving eyes, horrified as people scaled the building walls, smashed through windows, and he couldn’t help but think frantically: why wasn’t anyone doing anything?

He snorted to himself. Right. You know why.

He didn’t think he’d be able to go back to work after this. Slowly, one by one, his colleagues filtered out as most of them had classes to attend to that period and couldn’t push being late anymore. Once he was alone, Sami sank into one of the chairs, eyes glued to the newscast, feeling frozen from what he seeing.

He felt sick.

He texted Rami back and forth, a steady stream of furious conversation, not even realizing when the bell rang. Scrambling out of his seat, he rushed back to his room, just in time for when kids started filing in.

“Hi guys,” he pasted a smile on his face. “Settle down, and we’ll get started.”

He taught on autopilot, the forty minutes going by without him realizing, and before he knew it, kids were standing up and he was calling out the same thing from before: “read chapter twelve tonight, your essays are due Friday...”

Whatever previous intentions Sami had about sticking around the rest of the school day to get his work done, he threw right out the window. Racing home, he dug through his fridge for a beer, and then after better judgement, grabbed another, before he turned his TV on and called Rami.

Sami didn’t even let him say hi. “Are you safe?”

“Yeah,” Rami nodded. He was moving through his apartment, Sami could see, presumably to get to a quieter spot, and his gaze was off to the side, watching something. “I’m fine. Nothing here has happened yet, thankfully.”

“Listen,” Sami said urgently. “Stay inside okay? Don’t go out today if you don’t have to. You don’t-no one knows what will happen. Please.”

“I’m not moving,” Rami said. “I can’t-fucking after this, I can’t concentrate. I’m supposed to be rehearsing lines for tomorrow but fuck that. This is insane.”

Sami watched as the mob of people made their way inside the Rotunda, and he sank onto the couch. Then a few minutes later, they were inside the Senate chamber, pushing things around, and when he changed the channel to find another possible view, there was a photo up of a man carrying a confederate flag.

“Oh my fucking god.”

Rami’s voice was low. “I know. It gets worse.”

“Oh no, don’t say that.”

“They-they took down the American flag,” Rami said with barely restrained rage. “And replaced it. With a fucking Trump flag.”

Sami choked. “You’re not serious.”

“I wish I weren’t. And our president,” Rami scoffed. “is encouraging it. Fucking-” he stopped short, thinking for a moment on whether or not to complete what he wanted to say, before he shook his head in exasperation. “It’s all so exhausting.”

“That’s unconstitutional,” Sami murmured, flipping channels again, and he dropped his beer when he saw the constructed noose on the other side of the Capitol, staining the carpet, but he didn’t care. “Who is that for?! What the fuck!”

“What? What am I missing?”

Sami didn’t answer, still rooted on the spot, watching as officers finally brought out tear gas. “Fuck...is there any update on the Senators?”

“Not that I can tell. Though they are saying a few Republican ones are agreeing with this bullshit.”

Suddenly everything clicked, and Sami realized why today, of all days, this was happening. As he watched the coverage of Trump’s tweet, the rally earlier that morning, he idly wondered how much damage had already been caused, and whatever else he’d missed.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” he sighed, and Rami chuckled flatly.

“I’ve had a bottle of wine open for the last hour. Wish you were here to join me.”

“Well,” Sami stood up, grimacing at the mess he’d made from the spilled beer. “I can join you from afar. What are you drinking?” Rami gave him the name of a Cabernet they were both fond of, and Sami grinned triumphantly when he found a spare bottle in the back of his wine cooler. Propping his phone up on the counter against the block of chopping knives, he made quick work in opening and pouring himself a generous glass. “Cheers, man.”

“Cheers. What are we cheers-ing to?”

Sami hummed, licking the bit of wine that had dripped down his finger. “To the compete and utter fuckery that has been...the six days of this new year.”

“That works,” Rami was silent for a moment, both of them lost in their thoughts, watching the news again. “You know, I...obviously after the last four years there’s been a lot of unrest and contempt. But to this extent, for thousands of people to..to believe-”

“Say an election is rigged and then stop the process in almost every way they can?” Sami took a generous sip of his wine. “To destroy the Capitol? Yeah. I know.”

“Unbelievable,” Rami said succinctly, and after a moment: “I should’ve stayed in London.”

“They’re not much better,” Sami snickered, glancing at his twin. “Besides, London doesn’t have me.”

Rami laughed. “You think I plan my life around you?”

“What, you mean you don’t? I’m shocked. That hurts.”

“Definitely not,” Rami smirked and Sami laughed.

“Alright hot shot, don’t let that hair gel go to your brain too. There’s enough on your head already.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Rami was grinning, and Sami grinned back.

“Just trying to keep you humble, you know. I don’t give a shit if you have a shiny gold toy now.”

“Wow,” Rami muttered. “You wish your hair looked as good.”

“A greasy mess? Yeah, no thanks.”

Rami laughed again, and Sami grinned, pleased at the fact, sipping his wine again as they turned back to the news. “Fuck, it really is a shit show isn’t it?”

“I’ve always said he would leave the White House, but he’ll burn it down with him as he goes.”

“Yeah,” Sami sighed, his anger boiling all over again. “Looks like it. I wish you were wrong.”

“Me too.”

Glancing at the clock, he saw it had been a hour since he’d gotten home, which meant it was around 4pm on the east coast. Tuning back to the coverage, the mob outside the Capitol had grown, more people were scaling the wall to get inside, and Sami couldn’t help but think how all too easy it was for them.

“So uh...where’s the tear gas? The rubber bullets? The arrests?”

Rami snorted. “You’re fucking kidding, right? C’mon. Like that applies to them.”

Sami snorted too, and then laughed weakly, which turned into a laughing fit, and he could hear Rami calling his name. “Sorry...it’s just...fuck all of them.”

Rami raised his glass in a toast before he downed it in one go, pouring another serving. “Amen.”

“God, how am I supposed to explain this to my kids? You’re telling me I have to go to work tomorrow after this?”

“Same here,” Rami said. He was moving again, and Sami could see he was back in the kitchen too, digging through his refrigerator. He produced a bunch of grapes, a platter of salami, and a block of cheddar cheese, and Sami watched as he began to assemble an antipasti platter for one. “I don’t want to head to work. Seems pointless, after this.”

Sami bit his lip thoughtfully. “It’s not...useless. Use it. You’re angry-”

“Angry? No, I’m well passed pissed off at this point.”

“There you go. Use it, use that rage towards your scenes and whatever your character is. It’s...” Sami shrugged meekly at Rami, who was watching him intently. “It’s the only thing we can do at times like this, right?”

“I suppose,” Rami muttered, a tired expression on his face, and popped a grape into his mouth. He turned around, opening the fridge again and came back holding some hummus and olives in his hand. “I imagine it’ll be the only thing anyone will talking about for the next week. Rightfully so.” He opened the olives, laying a few of them out next to the salami, and stuck the jar back into the fridge. 

Sami was bemused. “How much are you eating?”

“As much as it takes to get through this shit show. I’m supposed to be on a diet right now, but I don’t give a shit. If I’m going to wine and dine watching this, I might as well do it properly.”

“Now I really wish I were there.”

“Yeah, me too. It would make it more bearable. But...this will do for now.”

Sami went silent, watching the TV again, which was now reporting about gunshots and a woman wounded. “Jesus Christ.”

Rami was muttering under his breath. “Shit, shit, shit, shit-”

They didn’t speak after that, both of them too lost in watching the news coverage, and Sami gripped his glass tightly as took a breath in to ease his anxiety.

Swallowing, he poured another glass, knowing he wouldn’t be finishing the bottle, and instead capped it and placed it in the fridge for tomorrow. It was an odd feeling, one that “scared” wouldn’t be able to cover. It was a looming, threatening feeling; something like this was so deeply entrenched in the fabric of the country. It wasn’t something that would go away on January 20th, as much as he wished for that. He wasn’t surprised that people had so much hatred for anyone other than themselves were coming out of the woodwork, blindly following what their commander in chief told them. The repercussions of this day would be something that would take a long time to repair.

“I’m tired,” he said suddenly. Rami’s voice was quiet, and though Sami didn’t elaborate, Rami seemed to understand what he meant perfectly.

“I know. So am I.”

---

When the crowds eventually thinned out, and Sami went back to work the next morning, he read the highlights of things he’d missed, flipping through the photos of the wreckage before the first period bell rang. When students trickled in, he was met with a sea of somber faces, and he knew he wouldn’t be teaching his regular lesson plans for the day. He felt enraged all over again.

Instead, he hopped up onto his desk, sitting cross legged and observing his students. “Alright. I would be...a very poor educator if I didn’t bring up what happened yesterday to all of you. And I know you’ll hear about it later in the day, I’m sure, but what we do here as teachers affects you guys for the rest of your lives. Now I don’t really care if you can’t tell me the imagery themes in The Great Gatsby, but I do care if you can’t think for yourselves. You’ll be reading and hearing a lot different things in the next coming weeks from people who think they’re right. And you’re all old enough, in my opinion, to have your own opinions on this. That being said, we all know what the banned book list is, correct?”

There were students nodding, and Sami nodded too, and he hopped off the desk to pull said list up. “Good. Pick a book from here, read it. There’s a reason all these books are banned from certain school curriculum, and I want you guys to pick one, and tell me why. It’s January. For every book you manage to get through from now till June, if you give me a one page analysis on your thoughts, I’ll give you extra credit that counts towards your final.” His students perked up at that, and he smiled inwardly. “Five points for every book, sound good?” There were murmurs of approval, and Sami continued, “it’s not mandatory, so don’t feel pressured to this. But I would...appreciate it if you did.”

“What if we read them all?” Someone asked.

There was always one.

Sami’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Good luck. You’ll notice there’s plenty of books on there we’ve read already.”

His students started chattering excitedly, and Sami cleared his throat, glancing at his copy of The Color of Water, which is what they were studying now. They would be finishing that tomorrow, the test for it was Monday, something which Sami had to make over the weekend. He hadn’t decided what to teach next, his gaze drifting to the copies of To Kill A Mockingbird in the back of the classroom, which was what he was planning to start Monday, after the kids took their test.

He debated on it, and then Rami’s words came back to him from the night before.

“He’ll leave the White House, but he’ll burn it down with him as he goes.”

He cleared his throat. “Guys, we’re just going to finish reading for the rest of the period, and we’ll go over the whole book for tomorrow before your test. So if you’ve got your books, take ‘em out.”

Later, once his classes were over for the day, he headed to the library, intent on finding Maria and asking for his next lesson plans.

“Hey Sami,” she greeted. “Back again? How’d they fare with Color of Water?”

“Not bad,” Sami said. “We’re finishing it up, test is Monday.”

“So, you’re here for Mockingbird?”

“No I’ve got Mockingbird,” he murmured, scanning the bookshelves. “That was what I was going to go with originally, but I’ve had a change of heart. Do you know if any of the faculty is teaching Orwell at the moment?”

“The freshmen, some of them are doing Animal Farm. But none of the AP classes right now. Which one?”

Sami spotted what he was looking for, and based on the piles of books they had, no one else had taught it yet, or he was late to the game.

“1984.”

hiya could you do a kiadam for 17. and 22.? if your not too busy. thanks !!

17.  “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…” 22.  “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

He’s completely minding his own business, being friendly with his physics textbook, all pressed up against the end of the bookshelf in the library, successfully having a love affair with headache-inducing math equations, when Mira ambushes him.

“Hiya,” she says, suddenly right in his face.

“Aisghls!” he gurgles, in a completely manly way, thank you. She sits back on her heels and laughs at him, loud and mocking. He scowls at her.

Her braces are blue now, matching the streaks in her hair. She looks nice, he decides, all neon green and blue. The loudness of her wardrobe suits her -- she’d be strange to him if she ever tried to tone it down.

“Oh, man, you should’ve seen your face.”

“Fuck you,” Kai snaps, smoothing out the pages of his book. “I am busy learning how to destroy the AP Phys exam. Stop being a distraction.”

She pouts at him. “Come on, you're seriously not still mad at me about the ceramic pig.”

“I’m always going to be mad at you about the ceramic pig,” he says primly. Then he sighs, unable to resist. “What’s up?”

Her smile turns bright, and his heart does that familiar little stutter. Kai has always, always loved her. Sure, she’s Adam’s best friend and has inclinations more Reeve-based, but there’s always going to be something about her that just catches him in the right spot. He’s over it now, and he has erm, other areas of interest, but she’ll always be special.

“Nessa’s having a party--”

“Ugh,” Kai interrupts.

“--with alcohol--”

“Double ugh.”

“And cute boys will be there,” Mira wheedles, whipping out her best puppy-eyes.

“I don’t care,” Kai says, shuffling away from her and looking back at his textbook. The particles will... he reads.

“Adam will be there,” she tries. Obvious trump card. Goddammit.

He cuts his eyes toward her, calculating. She’s grinning, triumphant, confident that she’s got him. He groans internally, because it’s either that he goes to this party and enjoys at least twelve percent of it, or Mira and Adam will wake him up from a dead sleep sometime in the AM, drunk and needy.

Part of his resistance is a lie, he always likes parties. He doesn’t like Vanessa, but she’s Reeve’s friend, and by proxy, Mira’s friend. He can pretend to like her for one night, especially if he gets to hang out with people. What can he say, extroversion. It’s a disease.

It’s just, recently, there’s been this trend. It’s like he’s been cursed.

Kai pretends to think about it.

“Fine,” he grits out.

“Yay!” Mira says, standing up and doing a little celebratory wiggle. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and unlocks it. “I’ll add you to the group text. Also, I want Reeve to drive me so you’re taking Adam alone okay bye.”

“Huh,” Kai says as she speed-walks away from him. “What? Hey!”

But she’s gone, vaguely eucalyptus-scented-shampoo left in her wake. Alone? With Adam? Fuck.

His phone buzzes.

-

Group: party 🎉🥂🥳🎊 time

mirakat added humantorchkai to the group

abeaverdam: Oh he’s coming?

lochnessa: Damn I didn’t know he left his house anymore

mirakat: ya i cornered his ass in th library

mirakat: hes a total slut 4 skool

mirakat: kais my bitch tho lol so ya hes comin

mirakat: dam hes drivin u

abeaverdam: Is that ok kai?

humantorchkai: yeah

humantorchkai: when?

lochnessa: Friday.

-

Kai’s late to first period on Wednesday, which Reeve notices, and bugs him about for ten minutes straight. He rolls in twenty minutes after the bell, wearing the clothes he left on his bedroom floor, all rumpled up and disorganized, and without a note. He drops into his seat and makes it approximately two minutes before Reeve leans over, into his space, and starts the interrogation.

“Oh my God,” Kai says to the ceiling. “For the last time, my alarm didn’t go off.”

“My Spidey-senses tell me you’re a liar,” Reeve says, and seriously, what does Mira see in this complete dork? He’s so nosy.

Kai drags his gaze from the ceiling to stare at him. “I think your janky-ass ‘spider-sense’ needs a psych eval.”

Reeve crosses his arms and sniffs at him. “Rude. I thought we were friends.”

“We are--” Kai scrubs his hands through his hair violently, frustrated. He catches the smirk on Reeve’s face. “Hey! That doesn’t work on me anymore. I’ve evolved.”

The smirk doesn’t leave Reeve’s face.

The truth is, Kai’s late because he had a nightmare. Or a wet dream. Depends on your definition of either thing. It’s been reoccurring pretty consistently, and Kai always wakes up from it breathing hard, adrenaline in his veins, and a hard-on. Today just happened to be shittier, and he couldn’t get back to sleep right away, so he overslept when his alarm went off.

It’s pretty much the worst, been happening for almost a month, and Kai is slowly losing his mind. But. whatever, the important part is this: he’s with Adam, and Adam kisses him. They could be in space, or in a submarine, or whatever Kai’s subconscious feels like cooking up. They could be anything, pirates, elven rebel warriors, it doesn't matter. In every dream, Kai’s with Adam, and at some point Adam leans over, the smell of Hennessy whiskey on his breath, and kisses Kai.

It’s why Kai’s been so rigid lately, avoiding his friends and refusing to go to parties, because of what happened Last Time he’d gone.

Mad Libs! Fill in the blanks, Sherlock.

He’s so totally, totally, totally screwed. And no one is allowed to know, not even Reeve, who knows Adam’s a flirty drunk and that Kai’s pathetic, and hasn’t even told anyone any of Kai’s other secrets, because this? This is world-ending levels of FUCK.

So, when the bell rings, Kai basically sprints out the door to avoid Reeve.

-

Group: party 🎉🥂🥳🎊 time

speedyskeet: should i bring da weed

reever: ohhh shiiiit hell yeah

lochnessa: No LSD though

speedyskeet: :O

speedyskeet: um ok MOM

reever: wtf ness

reever: psychedelic rights!!!

speedyskeet: let me get us fkd up!!

mirakat: wait didnt we hav 2 call an ambulance 4 coop last time u brought more than weed to a party

mirakat: or was tht a different school

speedyskeet: .........

speedyskeet: ok so im assuming edibles and my bong right

-

Kai takes his lunch to Mr Tucker’s room.

Mr Tucker is the APUS history teacher for the senior class, and he is the only non-STEM teacher that Kai likes. Mira is also his favorite student, so he lets them eat lunch in his room. It’s better than fighting for a spot in the crowded cafeteria, and Kai likes hiding from the rest of the student body.

Adam, Reeve, and Mira are sitting at one of the table groups when Kai walks in with his plate of chicken nuggets, Vanessa and Skeet nowhere to be seen. They’re probably getting high in the parking lot.

Mr Tucker is scrolling through youtube, his computer desktop displayed on the projector screen.

“Why’d you look up Nyan cat?” Kai asks, tilting his head as he watches Mr Tucker scroll.

“It’s stuck in his head,” Mira pipes up, helpfully. 

Mr Tucker grunts confirmation and apparently selects the version he likes. Reeve groans when it starts playing, slumping forward over his tuna salad. Mr Tucker picks up his normal vegetable-based salad, his bushy mustache wiggling in that way that means he’s smiling.

Kai sits next to Reeve, across from Adam. Mistake, Kai realizes too late. Big mistake. Because now they have to make eye contact, and Kai’s belly catches fire at the memory of drunkAdamhe’sKISSINGMESOMEONEHELP when he looks down at his plate of chicken nuggets. It’ll be obvious on his face in a few moments, he’s never been able to fight off a blush well, and then there’s going to be Questions. Capital-Q Questions.

But Reeve’s talking about, like, whatever drama majors talk about, and when Kai chances a peek up, Adam’s not looking at him. So.

Kai can’t help it, okay? He’s creepy. Sue him. No wait, that’s not-- ugh.

Kai studies the contours of Adam’s face while he’s not looking. His high cheekbones and his sharp chin. His heavy eyebrows that are shaped perfectly (”Ugh, you’re so fucking gross,” Reeve had said when Kai had voiced this thought aloud. “His eyebrows? I think you need to ask him out. Get it out of your system.”) and his eyes are that warm shade of brown, almost gold, soft and kind.

His hair is longer now, and errant curls flop over his forehead and around his ears. Kai watches the long line of Adam’s throat when he tilts his head back from the force of laughing at something Reeve said. Kai’s transfixed by the inviting stretch of dark skin, entertaining a thought of leaning over and just biting down so it’s not his fault he doesn’t see it coming when Reeve violently jabs him in the rib.

Kai jumps. “Ah! What the fuck?”

“Language,” Mr Tucker says in the toneless inflection of someone who doesn’t really care but responds on reflex. He’s now scrolling through Seasame Street videos.

Reeve shrugs, unrepentant. “You were gone there, dude.”

“Yeah,” Adam agrees, eyebrows raised in polite curiosity. “Planet Zenon gone.”

Kai ducks his head. “I’m, uh, stressed about AP physics?” he tries.

“Uh-huh,” Reeve says, “and are you asking us to confirm that for you?”

“Leave him alone,” Mira interrupts mildly. “Only, like, a hundred people a year get above a three on that exam.”

“Wow, how is that class still funded?” Adam asks.

“Elitism?” Mira guesses. “Maybe it’s like, a torture thing. Like, a test within a test.”

“What,” Reeve says, “like, if you pass you can become a super-secret spy?”

“Or I can, like, do another Chernobyl. Or I’m allowed secret access to government secrets. Ooh, maybe they’ll tell me the moon is a projection into the sky.” Kai says, warming to this idea.

“Then how would they explain waves?” Reeve asks.

“Uh, giant wave pool,” Kai answers.

“Hot take: the world is in a giant wave pool,” Mira grins at him.

Adam blinks almost in slow-motion, the sweep of his eyelashes against his cheeks, a smile growing on his face, and Kai is once again caught like a fly in honey. Just like that, all the saliva is gone from Kai’s mouth, and he’s completely lost the thread of whatever’s happening around him.

Okay, so, recap: totally, totally, totally screwed.

-

adam: U sure you’re ok driving me?

kai: dam i swear its fine

kai: i’d say something if it was a problem

kai: my parents have been trying to kick me out basically every weekend, this’ll make them so fucking happy

adam: Lol

adam: [A stock photo of two white parents sitting on a beach towel in a tropical location, smiling adoringly at each other. In the blurry background, a toddler with similar skin color and hair is being attacked by a seagull.]

-

“There is a PROBLEM!” Kai announces, flopping heavily onto his bed, tossing an arm dramatically over his forehead. Mira doesn’t even look up at him.

“Hm?” she says from the floor, knees drawn up to her chest, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. She’s looking more at her iPad than at him.

“Oh my God,” Kai groans. “You don’t even care. I’m nothing to you. You enjoy my suffering.”

“Die white man,” Mira says tonelessly. “I’m trying to beat my old high score in Tetris. What’s your damage.”

“I have nothing to wear on Friday,” Kai moans, pained.

“What? Why do you even care? Your regular clothes are fine.”

“Oh my God, Mira! It’s a party,” Kai breathes the word like its holy, a precious thing nestled in the crook of his tongue, not to be defiled by people who wear school clothes to special events. “And I want to get hit on.”

“I’ll hit on you,” Mira promises. The iPad makes a wah-wah-wah sound. She sighs, setting it aside and looking up at him, expression thoroughly unamused, clearly blaming him for her high-score loss.

“I did not do that,” Kai says. The blood’s started rushing to his head, so he sits up and blinks away the black spots as they dance in front of his vision. “I just wanna be hot,” he whines. 

“Okay, so, wear that stupid blue button-up with the tigers on it, and the black skinny jeans. It brings out your eyes,” she elaborates. “And tucked-in button-ups are hot on dudes. Oh, and--”

“If you’re gonna Queer Eye me, I swear to God,” Kai complains.

“Will you just... I was gonna say you should wear a tiny bit of eyeliner. It’s like, accentuating your features or some shit.”

“Why should I trust you?” Kai asks playfully. “I’ve never seen you go anywhere near a make-up in my life.”

Mira shrugs. “I saw it on Instagram. Anyways, Reeve said I have ‘good bone structure’, what does that even mean?”

“That he’s an idiot and I can’t believe you’re into him?” Kai ventures. Mira glares at him, so Kai leans back on the bed, rolling his eyes up to the bedroom ceiling at the glow-in-the-dark stick-on stars that have been there since he was seven. “Okay, okay. He was probably trying to compliment you, but since he’s a robot sent by aliens to infiltrate the earth he did it in a really bizarre way.”

Mira perks up. “You think?”

“He said ‘good’.”

“What should I say back?”

“Erm, that you’ll have his babies?”

Mira throws one of her glittery highlighter pens at him. It bounces off the center of his forehead and onto his lap. He laughs, picking it up and tossing it back.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe say that you like his bones, too.”

Mira takes out her phone.

-

adam: [A picture of a pina colada sitting on a kitchen counter in a pool of sunlight.]

adam: Winky face

kai: you could just like, use the emoji keyboard instead of typing it out

adam: Don’t make me frowny face

-

Kai spends fifteen minutes messing with his hair in the mirror. He gels it sticking up, twists his mouth critically at his reflection, and wets his hands to wipe it out. Nothing’s working for him today. It’s just one of those things, his clothes seem to hang off him awkwardly, and nothing looks right.

He makes a sound of frustration, and his mom pokes her head into the bathroom.

“Oh,” she says. “I thought you were going to a party?”

“Mom,” he growls. “I’m getting ready!”

“Hm.” 

She pushes the door all the way open, surveys him from head to toe, and reaches over to run a hand through his hair, leaving parts sticking up in her wake. Kai looks in the mirror. Now, instead of awkward ‘trying-too-hard’, he looks artfully tousled. He unbuttons two top buttons of his tiger shirt, and messes with the collar to make it look like someone had grabbed it and reeled him in for a kiss. He grins at himself.

“That’s better, I think,” she says.

“Thanks Mom,” he says, shuffling past her and out to the hallway.

“Limit yourself to three drinks!” she calls as he stuffs his feet into old converse. “If you get too intoxicated to drive, spend the night! Just text! Don’t forget to wear condoms and--”

Kai shuts the door in her face.

His car is a silver Prius, owned five times prior to him. The interior always smells a little bit like shamrock shake and in the winter requires a prayer and three engine turnovers to start. Kai loves it.

He pulls up to Adam’s street and texts without looking that he’s close. He parks in the street, and jogs up to Adam’s front door. He raps his knuckles on Adam’s door, the red one with caterpillar decals, and a blue handprint on the doorknob.

Adam throws open the door. “Gimme a sec, gotta grab my jacket.”

He’s wearing a white shirt and Kai’s favorite jeans of his (do Not judge him, okay, liking your crush’s ass is basically a given and is no longer considered a sin under the New Testament, so really Kai’s not weird for liking this pair of Adam’s jeans because it accentuates his butt.), the ones with rips in the thigh and at both knees, because Adam lives reckless and dies reckless.

He jams his feet into vans and grabs the heavy olive jacket off the coatrack and follows Kai out to the Prius.

“You look nice,” Adam says, offhand. Kai feels how hot his face immediately gets and hopes it isn’t ugly, sometimes his blushes look like a rash.

“Thanks,” he says, rubbing his neck, right hand fumbling for his keys.

They slide into their seats, and Kai is hit with the violent-sense memory of Hennesy whiskey, and dark streetlamps, and Adam’s soft voice and brown puppy-dog eyes imploring Kai, look at me. Look at me, please. And. And.

His phone buzzes.

“Oh, Vanessa wants us to pick up some soda,” Kai says through the rock in his throat.

“Ooh, ooh. Cherry 7-Up, Jarritos Lime, uh like, a ton of Mountain Dew... and Coke! We’ll need Coke,” Adam rambles as Kai pulls away from the street and heads toward the local general store.

-

mira: WHERE

mira: R

mira: U 

mira: 2

mira: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kai frowns at his phone. They’re in the check-out line, waiting for their turn with about three tons of soda on the conveyer. Kai’s got a fifty dollar bill from his parents, because they’re stupidly open-minded, but he’s still gonna make Vanessa pay him back. Adam’s inspecting the tabloids, making comments about all of the covers and whatever he thinks about them.

kai: WE’RE

kai: FUCKING

(Not sent !) kai: GETTING

(Not sent !) kai: DRINKS

mira: FUHDUK WHATTTT!!!?????????

Kai groans.

-

The party’s already alive by the time Adam and Kai get there, music thrumming against the walls of the house, the glass panes of the windows shaking with the vibrations. Weighed down by plastic bags full of drinks, and a little bit anxious, Kai fumbles with the door handle three times until Adam reaches over him and opens it.

The crowd is huge. He didn’t even know that Vanessa and Skeet knew this many people. There’s a wall of heat that hits them when they step inside, the difference between the inside and outside must be a solid ten degrees. Most people are crammed in the living room, near the speakers, where a sort of impromptu dancefloor has evolved. There are plenty of people lining the hallways, sitting on the stairs, and spilling over into the other places of the house. 

Vanessa has changed the lightbulbs to fuschia, cobalt, and teal colors, so the house looks almost like a club from a TV show. There’s this haze over everything - and, yep, definitely Skeet’s weed - that makes it seem smoky and mysterious. Adam kicks the door shut behind them as they begin to navigate the crowd.

Skeet’s leaning against one of the walls, talking to a tiny girl with piercings and too much eyeliner. She tosses her head, her hair flying up like a halo for a moment, luminescent in the multicolored lights of the house, and leans closer to Skeet. She’s holding a red solo cup, Skeet’s holding weed, and Kai’s arms are starting to hurt from all the soda.

“So, your, like, real name is Skeet? What kind of name is that? I mean, like, who does that to their kid?” she’s asking, valley girl accent and everything, even twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Skeet shrugs, unbothered. “My parents are hippies.” he spots them, then, and lifts his joint in a get over here gesture. Kai and Adam shove some people to stand in front of him. He grins. “Oh, dudes, nice. You got drinks. I wasn’t sure if you would, since Mira told us that you, uh, made a pit stop.” he waggles his eyebrows.

Kai groans, flushing.

“Uh, yeah,” Adam says, lifting up his bags. “for drinks? Hello?”

Skeet leers, grin stretching bigger. Kai scowls. He’s going to eat her one day, all Hannibal-Lecter style.

“Where is Mira, anyway?” he cuts in before Skeet says anything weird. “Where should we put the drinks?”

“Oh, just, you know,” Skeet makes a vague gesture with his hand that doesn’t really mean anything. “I think I saw her in the kitchen?”

“Thanks,” Kai mutters, shoving through the crowd and deeper into the house.

Mira and Vanessa are leaning against the sink, Reeve’s standing at the counter, completely covered in bottles of alcohol, thumb and forefinger at his chin like he’s surveying fine art. 

“Oh! You made it! I hate vodka without coke,” Mira says, striding forward and grabbing the bags from Adam.

Kai followers her back to the counter, and shoves the receipt into Vanessa’s limp hands without looking at her. Together, Kai and Mira start to set up the drink line, stacking up all the empty red cups at the edge of the counter as they try to make sure all the soda and alcohol are equally accessible. How Skeet even gets this stuff... he shudders to think. 

Kai waits until Adam and Reeve have wandered out of earshot to lean into Mira’s space. Vanessa had vacated the premise the moment it looked like any physical work would be happening, so he doesn’t worry about her particular brand of nosiness. He takes his phone out of his pocket and tilts the screen so she can see it.

“My texts didn’t send,” he tells her in a low voice. “We weren’t actually, you know.” he flushes violently.

Mira shoots him a grin. “No, I guessed that something had happened. It was just funny. You look nice.”

He smiles at her, genuinely, which means his gums are probably showing. She looks nice too, in her little black dress with a flared skirt and combat boots. The neon green streaks in her hair glow in the weird light of the house.

“I like your outfit,” he says. The din in the background is starting to grow. More people have probably showed up.

She nods at his jeans. “Cuffed jeans. The true mark of a bisexual.”

Kai nods very seriously. “I can’t leave my house without announcing every aspect of my sexuality to the entire world.”

Adam’s talking to a group of people at the other end of the kitchen, his smile is blindly white in the pink light, skin pitched a shade darker, a stark difference against the glow of his white shirt. Staring, unable to look away, Kai steals Mira’s cup and takes a swig. It’s straight vodka, so Kai coughs immediately when it hits his tongue.

Mira laughs at him.

-

Group: party  🎉🥂🥳🎊 time

speedyskeet: do any of u know anyone named travis montery

mirakat: no

lochnessa: No

abeaverdam: Nope!

humantorchkai: no

reever: nah

speedyskeet: fucking L lmao

speedyskeet: im kicking this fool out then

-

Kai’s wandering around, pleasantly buzzed from two Cherry 7-Ups with a tiny bit of vodka, looking for any familiar face. Mira and Reeve had abandoned him pretty much straight away, he’d left Adam alone in the kitchen, and he’s actively avoiding Vanessa. 

He stumbles around, moving his shoulders a bit in time with the music, his body gone languid and loose from the heat and the alcohol and the atmosphere.

His phone beeps at him again. He really hopes it's not Skeet checking with them before he bounces a guy again. It’s just Mira, he sees, when he’s fumbled his phone out of his back pocket. He has to squint to read in the pink light amid the thrumming bodies of people all around him.

Eventually, he escapes the crowd and heads down the stairs to the “game room” and finds another living room, with a soft white carpet and a couch in front of a big flatscreen. There’s a group of about a dozen kids, plus Kai’s friends, sitting on the carpet in a circle by the couch, with a beer bottle laying on a Monopoly game board. Kai blinks, the lights here aren’t fun colors, and everyone in the circle raises their arms and cheers when they see him.

He walks over to them. Mira grabs his arm and begins to drag him onto the carpet beside her. The group begins to chant.

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!”

Oh, no fuck, Kai thinks, beginning to resist Mira’s grip on his arm. His drink is sloshing about, and Kai holds it away from his shirt and pants as he tries to reverse his crouch and pull his arm back. Skeet reaches up and confiscates the cup, downing the rest of it in one go.

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!”

But he’s buzzed and his coordination is spotty, so when Adam reaches out with his hand and spins the beer bottle, Mira tugs once, hard, and Kai crashes onto the carpet, and the bottle spins,

and spins,

and spins.

And points the neck straight at Kai’s disheveled spot in the circle.

So, let’s revisit that cursed theory, shall we?

Kai looks at Adam, and Adam looks at him. He’s got that dopey half-smile on his face, and his pupils are blown wide, iris a thin gold ring around them. Kai knows when Adam’s drunk, or blackout, and he’s tipsy right now, just like Kai. And... oh no. But the kids in the circle are jeering, giggling delightedly.

“Uh,” Kai says.

Adam licks his lips, and Kai tracks the movement of his tongue helplessly. His eyes are moving on Kai’s face, like he’s cataloging everything, like he can’t keep them still. Kai’s mouth is very, very dry, and he misses having the cup in his hand.

“So, uh,” he says, and the tension buzzes even harder. “Is this, like, a kissing thing?”

Skeet grabs him by the arms and manhandles him up. Reeve and Vanessa grab Adam and start frogmarching them down the short hall toward some rooms and closed doors.

“No,” Skeet says, “This is more like a seven minutes in heaven thing.”

“Wait,” Kai says. Skeet reaches past him and opens a door. “Wait.” Skeet pushes him in, and Adam follows behind. “Wait.” The door clicks shut, then there's a clunk, then the sound of something heavy being pushed against the door.

Kai tries the knob, but it's locked. He jiggles it, but his muscles won’t cooperate and yank hard enough. Adam could probably break it open, but Kai has the vague thought of Vanessa’s parents and property damage, and underage drinking.

“Guys!” Adam yells. He pounds on the door with his fist. “Guys! This isn’t funny!”

But they don’t answer.

Evil. Mental note: make sure your friends aren’t evil next time.

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while,” Kai sighs, giving up on the door.

They’ll just have to wait out the seven-minute sentence. It’s simultaneously worse and so much better than the alternative. This way, Adam won’t have to kiss Kai if he doesn’t want to. But also: he won’t have to kiss Kai if he doesn’t want to. It’s a testament to how drunk all of them really are.

Kai turns, presses his back against the door, and slides down it, pulling his knees to his chest, wrapping his hands around his shins, and resting his cheek on his knee. He surveys the room. It’s small and dark, Kai doesn’t have the wherewithal to search for the light switch, but from what Kai can see it looks like a guest room no one ever uses and has accumulated with old junk. There’s a tiny window at the opposite wall that leads up to the lawn. Adam groans and drops onto the ground beside Kai.

The night is clear the moonlight is touching the window and peeking into the room. Adam’s shirt is glowing against his skin from the moonlight, his eyes a bright point in the semi-dark of the room. Kai locks eyes with Adam, and the tension from earlier crops back up tenfold.

This situation is... stupidly pointed. Kai’s pretty sure Reeve is the only person in the world who knows Kai thinks Adam is kinda hot, but he’d also have to be massively stupid to ignore the strain in their friend group lately.

Adam’s looking at him the way he does right before he reaches out to touch Kai’s hair, or brush his fingers against Kai’s freckles, or leans over to kiss Kai’s cheek. He’s looking at Kai like a hungry man, like he’s about to make the stupidest decision of his life and never look back. Kai can feel the pull of that look drawing him in, the temptation to run his hands against Adam’s chest, touching his shoulders or his mouth.

So Kai does the only thing he can think of.

“What did you think of that new Hey Arthur episode?”

Adam blinks at him. “Uh. You mean that kids show?”

Kai bites his lip and nods vigorously. 

Totally. Totally. Totally screwed.

-

reeb: [A video of Mira on the dancefloor among a huge throng of teens. The song in the background is completely drowned out by people attempting to sing along drunkenly. She’s grinding against Vanessa, who’s wearing Skeet’s sunglasses and drinking a mimosa with a cocktail umbrella in it.]

(Not sent !) kai: let us out of here!!! its been like 15 mins!!!! guys!!! dam’s phone is dead!!!!!

(Not sent !) kai: goddamn it COME GET US

(Not sent !) kai: NOTHING IS SENDING!!

reeb: lol wya we cant find dam either

(Not sent !) kai: YOU LEFT US IN THE BASEMENT

-

“Ugh,” Kai says, flopping back down onto the pillows beside Adam. At some point during their imprisonment slash debate on the ethics of twenty-three seasons of the same children’s cartoon, they’d moved from the floor to the twin bed. “I’m pretty sure they forgot about us.”

“Well, it’s been like thirty minutes. And they’re drunk.”

Kai’s starting to sober up. He has to pee, and his mouth tastes like cherry coughdrops. He stands up on the bed, bouncing a bit on the mattress. He reaches up and touches the seam of the window and the sill.

“What are you doing?” Adam asks, trepidation in his voice.

“Uh, escaping?” Kai says.

Kai presses his foot onto the upside down elliptical that’s propped precariously against an old wardrobe. He puts some of his weight on it, testing. Satisfied that it won’t give, Kai lifts himself up onto it, closer to the window, and pushes against the glass pane. The window opens out suddenly, making Kai wobble. The wardrobe groans.

“Careful!” Adam barks.

Kai glances back at Adam, his worried eyes watching Kai from the bed, sitting up on his knees in a half crouch. Kai sticks his head out the narrow window, then his shoulders, and manages to drag himself up and out.

He turns back around and offers his hand to Adam.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ll help you out.”

Adam climbs up onto the elliptical like Kai had, reaches his right hand to Kai’s left and uses his left to leverage himself closer to the window. The wardrobe and the elliptical make that sound again, like they’re scraping together.

“Hurry!” Kai says, afraid of the whole makeshift apparatus falling apart. Adam’s left palm slaps against Kai’s right and Kai pulls.

The elliptical falls over as Kai yanks Adam up, a great big crash resounding in the room they just escaped. Kai’s momentum and Adam’s weight makes Kai step back once, then twice, then his footing goes and he sprawls onto his back, Adam on top of him, in one big undignified heap.

Adam looks down at him. He looks more sober, too, like he hasn’t had much to drink. Kai should really be pushing Adam off of him. Or trying to sit up. But his hands are on Adam’s waist, and Adam’s looking at Kai’s face like he can’t quite look at anything else, and Kai cannot, for the life of him, break this moment.

Adam’s hands are on either side of Kai’s face, boxing him in. His breath puffs against Kai’s mouth over and over as he breathes shallowly. His eyes flick all over Kai’s face, and Kai’s thinking kiss me, please so hard he’s pretty sure NASA catches the brainwaves.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice,” he says, voice soft and vulnerable, like Kai has the power to hurt him with whatever Kai says next.

Kai’s hands tighten on Adam’s waist. He’s thought about this a lot. Like, a stupid amount. Who doesn’t daydream about confessing to your crush? But Kai cannot dredge up any words to say. He’s dry, completely dry, and he can only think about how good Adam’s weight feels on him. He dips his eyes to Adam’s mouth and thinks This is where I kiss him, right? and Adam’s eyes slide shut as he leans in, towards Kai, and Kai loses his mind.

The backdoor opens, the sounds of the party spilling out into the night air, pink light washing over them. Adam scrambles off Kai so fast that he’s pretty sure he breaks the world record for speed, and stands up.

Kai props himself onto his elbows and squints at the silhouette in the doorway.

“Vanessa?”

“Oh my God, there you guys are!” she leans back into the house to yell, “Guys! I found Adam and Kai! They were fucking around in the backyard!”

“Hey!” Adam snaps indignantly. “You locked us in the basement! We had to escape!”

Vanessa rolls her eyes at them.

-

adam: hey uh

adam: sorry about what i said when i was drunk lol

adam: i didn’t mean it

-

Kai turns his phone off and stuffs it into his bag, frustrated. He hadn’t meant to not talk to Adam all weekend, he’d just needed to think things through, and then his dad had asked him to help paint the deck, and he’d had to finish up some code for robotics and time had kinda slipped away from him without really meaning to.

He hadn’t meant to ignore everyone else, either, but they weren’t in a Situation with Kai on Friday night, and he’s not in love with them, and they didn’t seem to mind so much. 

Kai had spent all weekend staring at the texts, in between being too busy to answer them, but he can’t figure out what to say back. He’d gotten them Saturday morning after the party, probably because he hadn’t stuck around long enough to be left alone with Adam again.

Kai had left because.

Well, because.

Because he feels played.

Is that it? He can’t tell. He just feels so hollow about it. Adam doesn’t mean to, Kai knows that, but it still feels like he’s being led on. Adam has kissed him once while black out and almost kissed him while tipsy and flirts pretty outrageously, and it’s all too much for Kai’s head, which is designed for building robots and lying to his English teachers.

So at lunch, instead of going to Mr Tucker’s room, he lets Freddie from Calc drag him to the auditorium to help build the drama department’s Spring play set.

He’s not avoiding anyone. He’s just... helping his friends.

Fuck.

-

reeb: ok i give

reeb: wtf is going on

kai: ?

reeb: don’t “?” me mfer

reeb: adam is sulking n shit and u’ve been sorta MIA

kai: i’ve been busy, sorry

kai: i am the captain of a team u know. its not personal. i’ll hang out with you guys soon

reeb: spidey sense says there is something u are not telling me

kai: i really do think your spidey sense is actually overactive bladder syndrome

reeb: [An image of the caveman spongebob meme.]

-

He’s in the library, sitting in his favorite spot nestled in the bookshelves, brow furrowed over The Great Gatsby, his English journal, the notes Hannah lent him, and the Sparknotes page for the novel, surrounded by every color highlighter and pen, just trying to get his homework done, when Adam ambushes him.

“You’re avoiding me,” he says, out of nowhere.

Kai jumps, sending his highlighters and books flying. Adam is standing above him, eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed. He looks a little bit light a superhero, all righteous indignation at injustice, his muscles buldging slightly. You’re dead. Goodbye. his brain supplies.

“Holy shit,” he says, gathering his stuff back up slowly. “You scared me.”

Adam’s eyes soften. “Sorry,” he murmurs.

Kai shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

The silence hangs there as Kai avoids his gaze, reshuffling Hannah’s notes back into their correct order. He’s lost his page in the book, so he opens it to the middle and starts looking for the correct page number. There’s no sound in this corner of the library except for Kai’s over-loud breathing and the turning of pages.

Go away go away go away, Kai prays, wanting the world to end so he won’t ever have to face this moment. He thinks about the echo of Adam’s voice in his memory, Kai, look at me, the feeling of Adam’s weight in his lap, the ache Kai feels when he looks at Adam, and wishes that he could just stand up and run.

Adam clears his throat. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he says again, only this time it comes out more like a question.

Kai keeps his face as blank as possible, schools it into something politely curious unlike the shattered glass mosaic he feels like. “Am I?”

Adam rubs his hand across the back of his neck. “Look, I’m sorry,” he says haltingly, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I shouldn’t have... come on to you like that. It was inappropriate, and we were both drunk. And I didn’t mean it.”

Kai looks at him for a long moment. He can feel it, a rock on his chest, crushing him. He feels the ball in his throat, the hot prickle against the backs of his eyelids. “I know,” he says eventually. His voice comes out steady, even though he feels like he’s falling apart.

“So... we’re cool?”

Kai forces himself to nod. “Okay.”

“Really? Because I still feel like I fucked up somewhere here.” Adam takes his hands out of his pockets to open them, palms up, like he’s pleading. “Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

And it’s now or never. As much as Kai abhors the idea of talking about his feelings in the school library at 4 PM, as much as he wants to just lie through his teeth and stitch this all back up into one big internal bag of FUCK and pretend like nothing happened, he’d be leaving Adam hanging, and Kai’s not a dick.

He takes a deep breath. Then another one. He tries to channel his internal Reeve, but decides against it because Reeve’s kinda an asshole.

“I just... wish you did,” Kai says eventually. If he wasn’t himself, he’d slap him. Adam stares at Kai like he’d just spoken another language, like he’d just spat out part of a puzzle to piece together.

“Wish I did... what?” he asks slowly.

“Mean it,” Kai grits out, the words dragged from him. He feels ridiculous. This is stupid.

“Mean...?” Adam says, like he’s stupid. Kai scowls at him.

“Do you remember the St Eve’s party?”

Adam shrugs, looking helpless and confused.

“I drove you home that party. I drive you home every party. And every time we’re alone, you say that you like me, that you want me to go inside with you, that you think about me all the time,” Kai’s stomach is churning and Adam looks like he’s about to faint.

“I didn’t...”

Kai can’t hear him say it again. “And I know that you’re just drunk, and that’s just what you’re like when you’re drunk, but I just... I just wanted it to be true so bad. Part of me kept driving you home because I wanted you to be like that with me, part of me just wanted to pretend. But then you kissed me, and I just...” Kai makes a helpless gesture with his hands.

Adam licks his lips. He’s breathing a bit hard.

“...Fell apart,” Kai finishes.

Adam’s looking at him, wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look, pure panic. Kai’s fucked it up, ruined their friendship, destroyed their friend-group, and will probably be unable to look anyone in the eye for a very long time. 

Adam didn’t want to hear this. Kai should’ve just lied, shut it all up and let himself wither up inside. He should’ve avoided Adam harder, or refrained from falling in love with him in the first place. He should’ve just dated Jesse when she’d asked and made himself get over Adam.

 “How long?”

Kai blinks. “Huh?”

“How long have you wanted...?” he shrugs.

Ah. The million dollar question.

“Officially? Middle of junior year. If I’m honest with myself? Probably since middle school.”

Adam’s mouth opens and closes nonsensically. Kai asks God to strike him down, just so this can end, just so Kai can go back to trying to figure out what the fuck is up with Gatsby and Jay, just so Adam will stop looking at him like that, like Kai’s killed his puppy.

Adam drops to his knees in front of Kai.

“Okay. Since freshman year. And I’m a liar. I did mean it. I kept thinking, you know, maybe you’d like me back, because I could see you looking, but I just couldn’t make myself say anything. And I meant it. I mean it. I do. I want to kiss you.”

Kai swallows. He’s feeling that dangerous thing again, like there are snakes in his chest, or his feelings are in a bucket that’s about to overflow.

“Okay,” he squeaks out.

Adam leans down and fits their mouths together. It’s chaste, and Kai’s lips are a little bit chapped, and he didn’t close his eyes, but when Adam pulls back Kai smiles so hard his mouth hurts. 

And he leans up to kiss Adam, insistent, insistent, tasting Adam without Hennessy whiskey (and he does taste fantastic), and something electric happens to Kai’s spine when their tongues touch. He feels like he’s going to burn up, burst into stars, create a fissure in the earth that goes down to the core, or all three at once.

Adam licks along the roof of Kai’s mouth and yeah - that’s the one thing he’d like to never, ever, ever forget.

He’s about to be totally, totally, totally screwed. 

-

Group: dandilyin hoes MFERsssss!! skeet DONT CHANGE CHAT NAME

mirakat: omfg

mirakat: k & a suckin face in library

mirakat: [A blurry creeper picture of Kai pressed against the bookshelves, Adam leaning over him. Their silhouettes are blacked out against the sunlight streaming in through the window, so they almost look like one body. It’s taken at an angle and half of a wooden shelf is in frame.]

speedyskeet: arent they in this GC too

lochnessa: Lmfaaooooooo

speedyskeet: they r gonna see this.....

reever: WTF ADAM’S INTO KAI???

reever: ?????

lochnessa: What planet do you live on

speedyskeet: fuckin jesus christ reeb

locknessa: Literally no one knew KAI was into Adam. EVERYONE KNEW ADAM WAS INTO KAI

reever: WHY AM I THE LAST ONE TO KNOW STUFF

mirakat: s2g i tld u this whn we were @ fortescue’s u nvr listen 2 me

-

“I hate them all,” Kai announces.

Adam looks up at him from where his head is pillowed on Kai’s thighs, Pride and Prejudice held aloft. 

“Don’t worry, I set all their ringtones to Maroon 5.”

send me a ship + a prompt and i’ll write you a drabble!

Jurassic Park 4: Doki Idol Live Festival!

magic5ball submitted:

Remember how you asked me about my idea for a Jurassic Park sequel? Well, here you go:

The two velociraptors stood outside a pastel colored town house in Hokkaido prefecture, Japan. If any passerbys thought that was weird, they certainly didn’t show it. Probably because the raptors were wearing fedoras and fake mustaches, so they looked like humans. Also they had guns. Very cool, very intimidating mobster guns. A tommy gun and a sawed-off shotgun, respectively.

You needed guns, to survive Shinzo Abe’s little empire of vice and socialized medical care.

“So this is the place, huh?” muttered the velociraptor carrying the sawed-off shotgun. His thick Brooklyn accent hung in the air like concrete. “Kinda… frillier than I was expecting.”

“It better be.” Replied his companion, who sounded like your racist conservative uncle trying to impersonate that one cool guy from ‘The Godfather’ (You know, the one with the mustache who was played by Robert de Niro). “We hadda kill a whole lotta people to get this hellhole.”

Sawed-off shotgun licked his non-existent lizard lips

“But hey. That airplane stewardess tasted mighty fine goin-“

“Oh, for f*ck’s sake, would ya stop thinkin’ with your stomach and help me with this f*ckin’ knob!” cried tommy gun, trying to work the doorknob best he could with his raptor claws, which, in all honesty, wasn’t much, because raptor claws are terrible at operating things meant for human fingers. Little did he know, the door was a ‘pull’, not a ‘push.

At least he didn’t have to wait long before someone unlocked the door from the other side: another velociraptor, this one a bit on the short side. And p!ssed. Very, very p!ssed. You could tell he was the cool one because he wore an eyepatch over one eye. An eyepatch with a Captain Underpants logo on it.

“Didn’t your parent’s ever teach you idiots about using the doorbell?! I was just about to enjoy lunch with my beautiful wife and you-!“

He paused, recognizing the two figures facing him.

“Well, well, well” Said tommy gun, cocking his weapon “If it isn’t SWEET JOHN HAMMOND’S BALLSACK WHAT THE F*CK AM I LOOKING AT?!”

For the cool raptor was dressed in a gothic Lolita maid outfit, complete with a bonnet and penny loafers. Under his arm he carried a human sized pillow depicting what appeared to be a blonde floozy with massive tits.

 “Oh this? This is Mami Tomoe, my beautiful wife.”

“WHAT THE F*CK!?!?” Tommy gun pulled out a flask off orange Fanta from his butthole and drank the whole thing in one go. He did NOT have time for this homosexual weeaboo nonsense! Still, he and shotgun hadn’t left a mountain of corpses the exact height and width as Mt. Fuji behind them. Too many to go back to Isla Nublar empty handed. Er, clawed. Because they were dinosaurs. Who have claws.

Shotgun took a deep breath. “What the Boss means to say is, ‘May we take refuge in this fine establishment?’”

Cool raptor opened his mouth to reveal a pistol he’d hidden there. And by hidden I mean replaced his tongue with it.

“You know, for all crap you guys used to give me in the past, I oughta pump you full of lead right here and now. Buuutttt… the lady of the house is present, and I’m not in the mood to create more work on her end. So come on in! You’re just in time for lunch.”

Lest they attract unneeded attention, the three dinosaurs hopped inside.

.   .   .

Lunch was omurice boba tea with a bottle of teriyaki sauce on the side. It was just boba tea, but the boba had been replaced by omurice because F-Bomb hated the flavor of boba, which he likened to rabbit crap. The teriyaki sauce was teriyaki sauce.

It was the most racist thing shotgun had ever eaten.

“Well, now that you jerks have gotten a taste of my sloppy seconds, I suppose some introductions are in order. You’ve already met my lovely wife” Cool raptor gestured to the body pillow seated next to him “So that leaves you two. Mami, meet A-Hole and D-Bag. A-Hole’s got the tommy gun, D-Bag is ridin’ her sawed off shotgun, as always. They’re old… acquaintances of mine.”

“He.” Corrected D-Bag. “I’ve been using he/him pronouns six months now.”

“Well that’s an improvement. Now instead of bein’ the Boss’ side B!tch literally, you’re just his b!tch figuratively!”

“Well screw you too, F-Bomb!” laughed the boss. “An’ speakin’ of screwing, what’s with the fruity get up? You a prostitute now or something?”

 “Even better! This might surprise you, but I’ve got legitimate work now. This here’s my uniform, my uniform for MILF TIDDIES!”

A-Hole chugged his entire bottle of teriyaki sauce in one go, lest his mind implode from the sheer stupidity of that sentence.

“The Hell’s a milf tiddie!?”

“Only the best freakin’ maid café in Hoikaido, hookers!”

He gestured to a wall, covered in hundreds of photos of cute floozies dressed like they were attending a vampire’s funeral. Among them was a photo of F-Bomb in his drag, serving a deep fried hot dog to some elderly Japanese dude.

“As you can see, yours truly is serving Japan’s national desert to none other than 57th Prime Minister of Japan Shinzo Abe!”

“Hold it up. Youse been hobnobbing it with politicians?!”

“I wish! You’re thinking of Shinzo Abe, 57th Prime Minister of Japan. This guy is his twin brother. Still pretty sweet though. We DID win a Grammy for that, after all.”

A-Holes eyes bulged out of his scaly raptor head.

“YOUSE WON A GRAMMY FOR THAT?!”

“Dang right! Milf Tiddies has won sixteen Grammys since I started working there!” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. A very special piece of paper, if the six holes punched into it were any indication. “Did you know that if you win ten Grammys in a row, they give you a free orphan? That’s how the wife and I got our glorious daughter, Lil’ Nagisa!”

F-Bomb pulled a faded photo out of his wallet. A photo showing himself, his pillow wife, and a smaller body pillow of a ten-year-old moeblob wearing a Green Bay Packers cheesehead helmet.

“So youse couldn’t even conceive your own kid?” Inquired D-Bag sexily. He was munching his omurice slowly, so F-Bomb knew he was being serious.

“Are you implying I have sex with my own wife, you sick freak?! I’m a weeaboo, not some degenerate anime fanboy! Get it straight!” He instinctively cocked the pistol in his throat. It was awesome as hell.

In response, D-Bag pumped his shotgun. Loudly.

“Permission to put the sick freak out of his misery, Boss?”

“Firstly, don’t call me Boss when we’re not having anal sex. Second, no can do, my spicy lover. We need F-Bomb alive.”

F-Bomb heard all of this even though A-Hole whispered it, but he pretended not to make A-Hole feel clever.

D-Bag mumbled about how the Boss was lucky he was so mind blowing in the sack, otherwise he would have left the relationship long ago. The sack in this case being a really kinky sex dungeon. Like really kinky. So kinky even Donald Trump wouldn’t go within a mile of it. D-Bag had almost died of autoerotic asphyxiation more times than I’ve gone to the bathroom in my lifetime. That’s why he was the smartest dinosaur out of the three of them. Now where was I again?

Anyway, F-Bomb interrogated

“Alright guys, what’s the deal? I know folks who come to this socialized medical care infested hellhole, and they don’t come here just to eat omurice boba tea. You WANT me for something.”

He cocked his mouth-pistol again. Sparks flew all over the carpet, which was made of alpaca fur so it didn’t catch fire.

A-Hole scandalously kept his cool.

“It’s about Isla Nublar.”

The second those words left A-Hole’s lips, F-Bomb escorted his wife out of the kitchen, but leaned her against the kitchen door, because that’s what she would have wanted.

“Well what about it? I told ya guys, I’m done with that dump.”

“They’re puttin’ the screws on us, F-Bomb. Making us pay for eating those tourists back in the nineties.”

“And what makes you think I care? Like I said, I’m done with that place. I got a wife and kid now.”

“But F-Bomb, doesn’t the Park mean ANYTHING to ya!? What about the time we ate that park ranger that called you a girl? ‘Better than sex’ I recall you saying.”

“Nice try, but I’m not exactly in the mood to get misgendered again. Don’t you guys got any ideas that don’t involve me?”

“As a matter of fact, yours truly had this really spectacular one!”

D-Bag did a hand gesture wherein he constantly crossed his dinosaur claws across his throat rapidly in quick succession. A-Hole, being very smart, knew this meant he should continue, loudly enough so that everyone in the prefecture could hear.

“It was called ‘Trump Ballz’. We’d harvest Donald Trump’s testicles, see, and sell them to the highest bidder, so they could do whatever people do with lopped off testicles. I’m not one to judge. It was a terrific idea. I know because when I told my best friend Donald Trump about it, he said, ‘A-Hole, this is an incredible idea. Absolutely terrific! This is probably the best idea in America! You are very smart, very intelligent dinosaur! I oughta buy you a prostitute!’ Of course, we didn’t realize that Trump’s ballz don’t grow back when you lop them off. Did you know that by the way? Human testicles don’t grow back-“

F-Bomb cocked the pistol inside his throat gain, getting the Boss to shut up. This was probably the most heroic thing anyone had ever done in the history of the universe. He also asked a question:

“SO WHAT THE HECK DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH ME?!”

A-Hole vomited a severed arm and a pamphlet onto the table.

“EVERYTHING, ya WEEB trash!”

The pamphlet was for something called the Doki Idol Live Fest- DILF, for short. F-Bomb was no stranger to the DILF, but they had parted ways years ago. Six, to be exact, when he had buried Nico Yazawa’s still screaming corpse by the side of the highway. And neither was he stranger to the prize.

It looked like a beer and soda drinking baseball cap, but only to complete idiots who didn’t know crap about the Idol Life.

And F-Bomb wasn’t one of those people, er dinosaurs.

“THE MCGUFFIN OF SIN?!”

“Dam* straight! And like it or not, youse the only one with enough idol know-how to help us win it! Thing’s worth, like, a zillion dollars.”

A zillion in this case was equivalent to half a million. Still, isn’t that impressive?

F-Bomb stuck his nose in his omurice and snorted, a common intimidation tactic among velociraptors. I know because I read  it in the Scientific American.

“Sorry, guys, but even with that on the line, no can do. I’m DONE with the Idol Life, any I’m not letting you filthy casuals drag me back in.” He cocked the pistol in his throat. “NOW SCRAM!”

A-Hole and D-Bag jumped out a window, so they could get the jump on a feral dog humping its’ owner. Nobody realized they were dinosaurs because of their fake mustaches, so it looked like a pair of mobsters were eating a puppy.

When they were gone, F-Bomb pranced to the bathroom, which was filled with plush alpacas he had collected over the years. So many, in fact, the bathroom did not meet OSHA compliance. Which was why F-Bomb had made it an independent nation state, only to realize that OSHA didn’t apply to him anyway, since he lived in Japan.

He had felt really stupid after that, but at least he got his own country out of it.

Anyway, he vomited sixteen liters of blood into the sink, for F-Bomb had a secret: he was dying. Back when he was a fetus in an egg in a lab on some island in the Caribean, he’d become addicted to the illegal street drug known as WEEB, and frequent use had poisoned his lungs. The doctors had given him Socialized Medical Care and four more years to live. The WEEB had taken eighty years off his life. Socialized Medical Care had borrowed his lawnmower and never given it back.

But F-Bomb also had a dream: he and his wife were going to build their own maid café, and it would be even better than MILF Tiddies. He’d already picked a title: DILF Tiddies, and it was going to be the greatest food-selling establishment in the history of Japan. Omurice boba tea was going to go global. But he’d never get the funds on time, not on his meager salary. Unless…

His beautiful wife greeted him as he exited the bathroom.

“Get a pen and some razor blades, sweetgums. I’ve got a letter to send.”

.   .   .

The message arrived in the neck of a mailman’s severed head. This is the traditional way velociraptors send letters to each other. I read it in a book.

D-Bag didn’t see the letter, but the look on A-Hole’s face told him everything.

“What’d I tell ya, D-Bag? Like I always say, when you’re dino you’re dino all the way, till youse dead in the ground or youse come out as gay!”

“Yeah, we really need to update those lyrics.”

End Chapter 1

...I cannot for the life of me decide if this is the greatest thing I've ever seen or the worst, but it at the very least had me staring speechless at my computer screen for a long time.

It's not really Hot outside, your just imagining it!

Ya know,.... References to climate change (Global Warming) have existed since the late 20th century and increased in the 21st century. Climate changes related human-environment interactions have been featured in nonfiction books and documentaries, but also literature, film, music, television shows and games since the 1960's.

We were actually shown what would become of our world if we ignored what was coming in movies like The Day the Earth Caught Fire (1961), Soylent Green (1973), Blade Runner (1982) and Runner 2049 in 2017, Waterworld (1995), The Arrival (1996), A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001), The Day After Tomorrow (2004), The Day the Earth Stood Still (2008), The Thaw (2009), The Age of Stupid (2009), Earth 2100 (2009), Birdemic: Shock and Terror (2010), The Expedition to the End of the World (2013), The Colony (2013), Snowpiercer (2014), Into the Storm (2014), First Reformed (2017),........................

And over a hundred other movies and documentaries telling us something is coming and it's not gonna go away just because we think its Fiction as sooooo many political leaders kept saying all during the 1960's, the 1970's, the 1980's, the 1990's and all the way up to 2019, telling us there is no substantial proof of global warming,..... as nation, after nations peoples suffer the loss of land due to sea levels rising and the loss of death due to extreme heat.

"Were just imagining it" as President Trump once told millions.

Because of all this Down-Playing on climate change by government guided by industry there has been a huge disconnect between what professional scientists have studied and learned in the last 30 years, and what is out there in the popular culture.

But carbon dioxide polluting caused by human-environment interactions just keeps on trucking along adding more carbon dioxide to the atmosphere, supercharging the natural greenhouse effect, causing global temperature to rise.

People are taught to have a slower acceptance of the scientific consensus on climate change by their leaders who aren't scientists because there are more pressing matters like elections, industry financial support and international conflicts at hand that are considered to be more important than your children's futures, and these leaders will be long gone by the time your children suffer their wildest nightmares trying to survive a super storm every other year that destroys their home, no matter where they seem to move to....

This is the matter of fact as long as you keep voting Republican or Democrat.

To change things to prepare for what's coming you have to vote for an independent party that wants to IMMEDIATELY start to prepare for what's coming, because the two parties we got running the show now don't seem to want to have a clue.........

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Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi Volume 6 Chapter 1

T/N: I mostly didn’t translate a lot of the names of the ayakashi/youkai, as well as the proper nouns because uhm... They’re basically nouns. It’s like how some translated manga are done. Plus it irks me sometimes when everything just gets transliterated, it kills off the vibe. But that’s just me. Links to references at the end of the post.

Also if you like this translation, you can share the link, reblog, but for pete’s sake DO NOT REPOST ELSEWHERE. I worked hard to finish this thing, it’s not like I just Google-translated this whole sh**..

If you need refreshers on what happened, @kakuriyo-translations​ already had the previous translations. I’m just contributing to this fandom. Also, as previously mentioned in my other post, the 2 seasons of the anime cover volumes 1-5, so if you need a review just rewatch them all. Volume 6 starts here.

OK, here’s the stuff now.

Volume 6 - I got hired as a novice in an Ayakashi Inn** From the back cover: Autumn has visited the Ayakashi living in Kakuriyo's long-established inn Tenjin-ya. Aoi who was kidnapped by the rival inn Orio-ya, finally ended through her cooking the hardships of, and cleared the curse of the Southern Lands. Returning home victoriously, what awaits this lady are her friends in Tenjin-ya, the warmth, and the everyday busy-ness! While thinking of new souvenir products and preparing and pushing for the Autumn Festival, she reopens her Japanese Restaurant "Yugao". That time, she was invited by Odanna-sama to a fruit orchard date. Surely him always inviting her out never changed, as time after the Orio-ya incident passes her by, is she realizing that she's starting to think that she wants to know more about Odanna-sama...?

From the inside front jacket: Yuuma Midori (Author)A citizen from Fukuoka. Her debut publication published by Alpha Police: Marrying my wife is a dangerous circumstance with a giant demonic beast. Changing her pen-name after that, she published Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi, I married into an Ayakashi Inn. Currently  Fujimi Bun-ko's big hit, and is now an illustrated series released by B-s LOG COMICS.

Character introduction page Tenjin-ya: An old-established place in North-eastern Kakuriyo, where Ayakashi dwell. Under the Ogre-god's (Onigami) leadership, many visiting Ayakashi helped it flourish, although sometimes humans make visits too. Odanna-sama: Master of Kakuriyo's Tenjin-ya, an Onigami respected by many Ayakashi. Even though Aoi should be wedded to him, his true intentions are currently unknown, as he watches the lady's speech and behavior. Tsubaki Aoi: College student who was whisked away against her own will in order to pay for her grandfather's debt in Tenjin-ya. Refusing Odanna-sama's marriage proposal, with her talents in cooking she manages her own Japanese restaurant, Yugao.

T/N: The volume title is a pun, it can go like "a new hire gets into an ayakashi inn" or "newly-harvested rice enters the ayakashi inn". No complaints though, but I won't spoil anything lol

Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi Volume 6, Chapter 1: Autumn's Newly-harvested Rice's** Accompaniment P5 "Aoi-san! We're already at our limit!" "Gah, so far, today...." That was in the last days of September in Yugao. I, Tsubaki Aoi, scrunching my face in vexation, took a peep in the refrigerator with hardly any ingredients left. Confronting and attacking the food rations altogether, it seems that they're now all gone. I wonder if in today's opening, will the incoming guests ever cease?

Lately, Yugao's business has been spectacular all over, it has been a very, very busy time. On days when there are so many customers, when the ingredients are all used up midway, the restaurant has to close shop early, and while we're preparing so many ingredients before reopening again, on those days that we have to regulate incoming customers, not many come in and the restaurant becomes bare of people, controlling the number of incoming guests is difficult. I wonder what I'll do if it's just me doing everything inside the restaurant, and I feel like I'm already at my limit... "That matter at Orio-ya, the thing about the ceremony and all the different things have been dramatized and turned upside-down in so many ways, it has become Kakuriyo's hot topic. Aoi-san has become something that livened-up the world, and Ayakashi have been interested and drawn to you, haven't they? Even Yugao has become famous..."

T/N: It's frustrating to translate the term for newly-harvested rice. Coming from a rice-eating culture like Japan and the rest of Asia, it's easy to categorize all stages of rice because there are words that exist for that. Like they say, languages are shaped by the needs of the users. Unfortunately, English has none of those so yeah, from here on end I'll be using the term newly-harvested rice here because to be honest, it tastes a lot better than rice stocked for a long time. That one tastes dry and bland even when cooked, while newly-harvested rice smells fragrant, has a soft texture, and just doesn't taste moldy lol

P6 While on a short break from cleaning up and arranging the place after business hours, Ginji-san and I were eating dried persimmons given to us by a customer as we sat on the counters while sipping tea. "Ginji-san, you were keenly saying that, but I wasn't intending on making a ruckus in Kakuriyo." "Yes, I understand. Ayakashi have been noticing, in their own ways... Thanks to Yugao, our business is booming!" Ginji-san's tired face turned and changed into a very happy one, meanwhile I was getting anxious. As someone who is burdened with a debt I am happy that the restaurant is flourishing, even though the place is getting better overall, there are many hindrances coming out with regards to cooking, and in spite of our efforts, I still feel bad for the customers that come in. Ah, but unrelated to that, this dried persimmon tastes really good. It's center is soft and moist, and sweet, yet a faint aftertaste of the puckery seed still remains, but I love that taste. Even if the people that I hated then are that much, a lot of Grandpa's treasured food makes me yearn for the good old days. "Very soon, Yugao will need to hire new employees, don't you think so?" "New employees? Really? Well, if it's just Ginji-san and I, it's already impossible..." I agreed with Ginji-san's suggestion. Ever since we opened, the two of us had been giving our all. To put it in words, we need someone other than Ginji-san to be designated with a job post. All the more that I think Yugao needs a new staff. "Since it seems that Aoi-san is concentrating on making the dishes, you might want the new staff to bear the task of receiving guests. P7 Would you like to try putting up a "Now Hiring" sign in Tenjin-ya's announcement board?" "I wonder who would come to apply?" What kind of brand-new staff will we hire? "Aoi-sama, you're cruel!" Instantly, from the pendant that contains ogre-fire, popped out Ai-chan. She looks like me, but her cheeks were swelling with annoyance. "Why, you call me your family, and at the same time hire me as your employee! If that's the case, tell me what to do!" "Well now, Ai-chan is very eager to work?" "You haven't spoken to me in a very long time..." Is that so? I tried to recall. When I called Ai-chan out to learn about the basics of cooking, that time she went out and played with Chibi. I think Ai-chan is still an Ayakashi child, and she still haven't got the idea on what it means to be an employee. "But Ai-chan, if you feel sleepy, you can't return to the pendant. Also, on top of that, it would be weird when there's two of us working here at Yugao..." Ginji-san looked at Ai-chan and I. P8 I wonder what he thinks of us having similar faces. "Oh, that, uhm... Aoi-san is most concerned about Ai-chan, and it is that you would want to work, but I think it's surely awkward when there is someone that looks like Aoi-san, won't it?" "Wh.. Why is that...? Young master-sama, I want to work too..." Ai-chan begged earnestly to Ginji-san with her teary eyes. My face tells it all, and Ginji-san also sees that it can turn into a crazy situation, and we stuttered. "Uhm, that's... That is..." Her eyes started swimming in tears. "But we could cause confusion with the customers. They'll think Ai-chan is me, and I am Ai-chan..." "I'm definitely sure that can happen... This is not related to Yugao's business operations, but it's possible that I can swap places with a family who looks like me, but really you are a precious being. With that, won't it be better to hide?" "Really?" "Yes... If my look-alike and I were both working in here, we may have a trump card,but evil people may take advantage of that too. Because of that, Ai-chan who can do things must hide in her favorite place..." Ginji-san glimpsed at teary-eyed Ai-chan who was biting her lower lip like a child and scratching her forehead. P9 "In order for Ai-chan to work in this restaurant, there are two conditions, OK? One, when you're in duty, you can't go to sleep. The other is that you have to change your appearance into someone else's." "Someone else's appearance..." Ai-chan and I huddled and titled our heads. The thing about not sleeping is reasonable and understandable. "About that, how do I change into someone else?" "I'm sorry. That's something that you must learn on your own. Be original, OK?" "O..ri...gi..nal..?" It seems that Ai-chan doesn't understand what that means. "Well, let's see. Let's use Tokihiko-san from Orio-ya as an example.** In the beginning, that person was just made up of many little Youkai flames**, but right now he can't change into anything else, he can only change into the shape he already has. If you change your appearance into someone else, if you change it to look like me, that's a whole different level, but Ai-chan is still a child, I wonder if she can understand?" But Ai-chan yells "I'll do it!" and raises her hand in proclamation. "I'll do my best in making my own appearance!" "Wooooowwww..." Ginji-san and I lightly clapped our hands for Ai-chan who was in high spirits.

T/N: In Volume 3, where Shizuna and Tokihiko meet again, like the episodes before the Orio-ya arc, it was briefly explained that ayakashi are formed from objects, when the consciousness enters the objects and make them sentient. I’ll probably translate that once I finished volumes 6-10, or maybe not. P10 "But because it's sleepy-time, I'll go back to the pendant!" "Whaaat." She immediately returned into ogre-fire, and Ai-chan hid back into the pendant in my bosom. The pendant's flickering light makes it seem like Ai-chan was sleeping and snoozing peacefully inside. "She seems serious, about the whole 'What appearance should I make' thing." "As soon as she wanted to slep, she already entered a new period of growth. In just a short time, I think she's already like an Ayakashi that stays awake late at night... It's because Ayakashi by nature don't sleep that much." "It's not like that, it's just that employes and everyone else just have short sleeping schedules. It's toxic**, it's something I thought of, but it's not really like that..." "No, it's not something like that. It's because Tenjin-ya also considerably receives nice wholesome** citizens of Kakuriyo. And that is why it's always very busy." "What, wait, doesn't that make it mixed**?" Well, whatever, I only sleep 10 minutes everyday, and even though it's a rest day tomorrow, it's not a problem for me. And for sure, when that busy day comes, I'd be very happy to receive Ai-chan's help. Whatever that child's appearance would make, I'll be looking forward to it.

T/N: the original words used were BLACK, WHITE, and GRAY. Black is considered to be the dark side of things aka toxic workplaces, White is the usual nice and wholesome facade, and the Gray was just inserted to complete the pun because in color theory thingy, BLACK+WHITE=GRAY. But that's just me lol You have been warned that this light novel uses a lot of puns P11 "Aoi--- Fooooood---" "Oh, that person's here." That person, is that Yuki-onna. Always, after Yugao's business hours, it's always the same, she always comes, the former Young Mistress but is now the waitress O-ryo. "Now's not a good time, O-ryo. There's none already." "Waaait, again? No rice? Even the rice is gone too?" "Even if I cook the rice, that's just it. Tomorrow is Yugao's rest day, and there aren't any excess ingredients here." "Then as long as there's rice that can be cooked, it's fine. I really love rice. Newly-harvested rice** is the most delicious, isn't it?" If that's the case, then there's nothing else to eat here, Ginji-san and I whispered to each other. But O-ryo just invited herself in the counters, and I had no choice but to stand up and start preparing to cook the rice. Just as O-ryo said, it's already the season of delicious rice. Especially in the land of Ogre's Gate, the rice brand "Onihonoka" is a famous specialty and souvenir, harvested either in the last days of August to the first days of September, polished immediately after harvest and is now back in the market. P12 But, if we use newly-harvested rice here in Yugao, it's distinct grains that contain a lot of moisture can really rake in the positive points. When cooking rice it is common that the little water added will decrease as it cooks, and it tastes all the more better. I wonder if O-ryo can wait for 30 minutes as the rice gets soaked.** "Wait, O-ryo sama!" The next one who came in was that horse chestnut girl, with her signature Tanuki ears and the round, fluffy tail. It was Tenjin-ya's lower-ranking waitress, Kasuga. "We thought we lost the bottle opener at the banquet hall. O-ryo sama, when your duties ended you immediately went to Yugao, and our new-hired waiters and waitresses had to search here and there. I was about to do some deliveries but I had to take charge of our newbies." "Oh, really? Kasuga, why didn't you just remember to let your juniors do it?" "But it's O-ryo sama's fault. All of the juniors and everyone has been doing their best here." "Oh, fine, there, there. Kasuga, you're also giving it your all, OK?" Whether it's because she's tired or she just deemed the answer was acceptable and ran away with it, Kasuga just allowed O-ryo to roughly pat her head. And when the bottle opener that had a bell made out of ice was produced, Kasuga immediately stuck it inside her obi. When the bell chimed, a clear tinkling sound echoed. "Isn't that ice bell lovely?"

T/N: Hot tip, if you're cooking rice, not the instant kind, if you want a less fussy method just soak it for at least 30 minutes before boiling it, it makes it cook faster, especially when the rice is long-grain, brown or colored rice, or the dry grained ones that are better for fried rice because the grains don't stick together. P13 "Yes. I won't give it to you, Kasuga." "I don't have a need for it, and for that reason it's not an important conversation." Kasuga sighed with a dumbfounded expression. In this situation I don't know who's the senior and who's the underling. "Oh, by the way, Young Master-sama, Odanna-sama calls for you." "Wah, is that so, Kasuga-san? Oh, it's probably the matter about the Autumn Festival. Aoi-san, I have to go to the main building for a bit, ok?" "Yes, thank you for your hard work, Ginji-san." Ginji-san's head bobbed as he bowed, and with a quick pace left Yugao. "Kasuga, even today you were asked to do a lot of things here and there, weren't you?" "Yeah, that's true. Everyone was telling me to go here and run over there. Oh well, I'll get used to it somehow." Kasuga meekly and quietly sat beside were O-ryo was sitting. Did this girl also went here to eat some newly-harvested rice? "Aoi--- Is it done? I'm hungry-- Isn't Kakuriyo's pot cooking fast enough?" "Whaaat. Please wait a bit more, O-ryo. Because it's newly-harvested rice, I only had it soaked for a bit." "Ehhh... That's already fine. Whether it gets cooked or not, because I'm hungry." P14 I wanted to choose the best way to cook the newly-harvested rice, so I could relish its delicious taste, but I wonder if I just lost to O-ryo's explanation just like this while the rice was cooking. She seems to be already at the limit of her patience, and she started to violently beat the counters. "Aoi--- Aoi--- Rice! Let me eat rice!" "Hold it there, big woman baby! Stop beating the counters, or else it will fall apart." My table.. Really, O-ryo can really be so selfish... "Yo, is there any grub to eat?" Akatsuki, like the usual routine, came here. O-ryo, Kasuga, and Akatsuki, repeatedly always come here, and were becoming "Give me food, give me food" Ayakashi. "I'm sorry Akatsuki, today there's nothing left. O-ryo said she's fine with just white rice, and that's what I'm cooking right now." "I'm also fine with just rice. Do you have any pickles?" Akatsuki sat beside the counter where Kasuga was, where two people were already sitting at. It has always been like this. "Wherever rice is offered as if for the gods, there's always a line on the counters. One way or another, Ayakashi love rice, don't they?" Finally, the rice on the stove has cooked. Kakuriyo's pots only need five minutes to cook rice, and it's really very convenient. P15 "Akatsuki, you haven't used up your salary and vacation leaves this year, haven't you? You don't have a girlfriend, and you give me the impression that working is your hobby. You're that kind of guy, aren't you?" While doing nothing on an empty stomach, O-ryo started bickering with Akatsuki, who was beyond Kasuga's seat. Even thought it's not nice, O-ryo toys Akatsuki a lot, who was younger than her. Akatsuki's face spells like "Shut up, you're noisy" whenever he's tired after work. "It's better to think about frolicking and having fun, Akatsuki. It's a waste, no matter how much you work, being a guy who looks angry and has no excess time to have some time to have fun." "Stop talking to me already, O-ryo." "Whaaat. How conceited. I'm the senior and you're the junior. I'm older than you and you're younger than me." "And so? You dropped being in the management staff and now you're a waitress. Between being a head clerk and a waitress, I'm higher-ranked." "Arrrghh, this guy is so UN-ADORABLE!" "O-ryo sama, you're noisy!" O-ryo's shrill voice spreads out, and Akatsuki and Kasuga both covered their ears. I opened Yugao's kitchen's refrigerator as I pinched my small ears shut. There wasn't any ingredients left to make side dishes, so I just took the rice out and served it. As I was doing this, I was laughing by myself. Hee hee hee.. "I could hear Aoi-chan letting out a weird laugh." P16 "What meals are she thinking of, at this point?" "Aoi is indeed an Ayakashi that cooks and cooks, isn't she?" Until now, O-ryo, Kasuga and Akatsuki were all whispering and back-biting me. But that's what I felt. After waiting, the newly-harvest rice that we have been waiting for has been cooked. After the boiled rice was done, I opened the lid and a foggy yet aromatic steam was released, and my stomach started to grumble on its own. As I stirred the freshly-cooked rice, I divided it and placed some on the rice tub. Using a wooden rice paddle I tried checking its texture and taste, it was springy, and its sweetness was enjoyable. "OK, there's a lot of rice, so please just eat however you like." In the restaurant's table where the rice tub was placed, in Akatsuki and Kasuga's usual rice bowls, and in O-ryo's favorite and sometimes variable larger bowl, I served them the white rice. I piled a lot of it. Each grain was puffy and glossy, which is due to the rice's freshness. "Yay! Let's eat!" O-ryo speedily and hungrily ate the rice, as she was holding her bowl and chopsticks. Hmph, O-ryo just quieted down right now. "Kasuga, Akatsuki, aren't you two hungry too? Start eating up." P17 "Ehhhrm.... It's hard to eat like O-ryo with just the white rice..." "Aren't there any pickled food, Aoi-chan?" "Tsk, tsk, how about if I place this here?" I placed a jar in between Kasuga and Akatsuki's counters. At first, they just stared at it in bewilderment, but carefully examined the jar's contents. Kasuga seemed to immediately get what it was. "Oh, I know it! It's nametake, enoki mushrooms!" "Yes, I made it from all of the mushrooms collected this Autumn, and I placed a lot of it. I goes great with white rice. I added it to our Autumn's daily specials." As soon as I opened the jar's lid, and scooped the nametake with a wooden spoon, I placed a lot on top of their rice in the two rice bowls. The brown mushrooms were flowing and melting and moist due to being boiled down. Enoki, shimeji, shiitake, these were all seasoned with the mild soy sauce that Ayakashi love. Sugar, mirin, sake and other seasonings were also added as staples, and in my case, there's also a bit of vinegar and some spicy peppers. These were added to give a hint of spiciness and sourness to the mild flavor. To make excellent preserved food, cold tofu, boiled down greens using dashi stock and others can be added and turned into one dish. While the nametake is mixed in with the piping hot rice, Kasuga and Akatsuki heartily wolfed down their food. "Wow... This meal is filling in my empty stomach.." P18 "This is delicious!" The enoki makes a crispy and appetizing sound. O-ryo, who was growing tired of the white rice, and seems to have noticed the nametake that Kasuga and Akatsuki were eating, started staring at it with longing eyes. "O-ryo, if you want to eat some nametake, please have some too." What the.. I have barely finished talking and O-ryo already stole the nametake jar. "Wah, it's my rice's buddy!" "O-ryo sama, it's greedy of you to take it for yourself!" "Kasuga, Akatsuki, don't worry, there are other partners for your rice." The poor things, but because there were other food that pair up well with rice, I brought them out. Toppings such as pickled plums, ground meat mixed with miso and lotus root, daikon pickled in vinegar with kelp, I brought out various preserved dishes too. Because rice goes well with many daily staples, many others were served on the side. "I am pushing this powerful medicine. I stir-fried some Hijiki seaweed that still has its water, along with the gritty and crisp pickled plum with some dashi stock. It really goes well with rice." Deprived of the nametake, Akatsuki tried adding the plum and seaweed mix as a rice topping. The crunchy texture and sourness of the plum, and the strong umami taste of the seaweed was incorporated, and this was a very luxurious and delightful taste. It doesn't need any other side dish, this makes it a full and satisfying topping. P19 When making onigiri, it can be added to the rice. It's excellent for emergencies. After experimenting with both the kelp and vinegar-pickled daikon as well as the meat mixed with miso and lotus root, O-ryo started eyeing at everything again, and I placed some little by little in the saucer that she was using. It' s great that she gets to enjoy a wide variety to pair up with her rice. It's exciting to think like what could be the next one you'll taste, with each bite. Once in a while, it's nice to just enjoy and relish the taste of the newly-harvested rice. After a while, I decided to eat some rice, and went back to the kitchen to get the rice bowl I normally use. "Ah, I just remembered something!" That's it. There were still two slices left in the refrigerator for the staff's breakfast. Autumn salmon. If I defrost that, I can make another rice pair-up! "Hee hee hee. A staple rice accompaniment: salmon flakes!"** I defrosted the salmon slice on the dish with Yokai fire, flayed the skin off, and lightly seared the surface on a frying pan, added salt, dashi, mirin, sake and other seasonings then heated this on a low flame. Sauteing this with a wooden spatula while adding some water to soften it, it's all what I need to do. Hee hee hee... "That Aoi-chan is laughing in the kitchen again..." "It smells like fish being cooked..." "Hold up, Aoi! Why are you cooking fish just for yourself? My nose isn't deceiving me!" T/N: I actually do this with meat, tofu, fish or whatever I add to vegetable dishes to make them more tasty. In Japan, they call this ground meat, fish or tofu that is seasoned and sauted as "Flake". You can just prepare a large batch, and use them as needed. I guess all those hours watching Tokuson Life Hacks also helped a lot lol P20 "Don't worry Kasuga, Akatsuki, O-ryo. Everyone's going to eat what I'm making." That said, it's my last serving. Reduce the water, when the flesh has fallen apart, add white sesame seeds and sesame oil, and lightly saute it. It's really easy. The home-made salmon flake is done. "It 's done! It's done! From kids to adults, everyone will love it, the best to be paired with rice, salmon flakes! Loose salmon topping, is it easy to understand?" "Ohhh..." "That smells really good!" As soon as I brought this in front of them, O-ryo and Akatsuki's voices just sounded with admiration. Since their bowls were already devoid of rice, they both wanted to fill their bowls with another serving. But they started fighting on who should be going to get more rice to add in the rice tub, and Kasuga went up and took the rice tub on her own to refill it. She's really the most adult in this bunch. "Ahhh, I can finally eat some rice too!" Thereafter, I placed some hot, piping rice on my bowl and I could finally eat my supper. For the first time, we're going to partake the crumbly salmon flakes that I made. I can use that for onigiri, and it's going to be a favorite item in bento boxes. P21 We can do the bottling, the marketing, and the selling, as our products are really delicious, but it seems that I'll have to make it and do it all by myself. Slicing, adding water, seasoning.. I'll do it how I like it. The glossy and clean rice due to it being freshly-harvested, when you add the shiny and reddish-brown color of the salmon flakes, eating it with a spoon just makes you gobble it all up. Ah, the autumn's salmon is really tasty and fatty. When mixed and used as rice topping, in one bite the umami and saltiness goes well with the mild, sweetness of the rice. Adding the white sesame and sesame oil's fragrances, the salmon's taste, flavor and aroma improves. "Wah, this tastes so delicious, I wanna have a bowlful more.." "O-ryo sama, if you eat more than that, you'll get fat. But I want a bowlful more too..." "I knew it, it's the autumn salmon. It really pairs well with the rice." It looks like everyone got satisfied with the salmon flakes. Oh no, this is bad. We have quickly eaten the rice... We took in so much carbs..." Even the meat mixed with miso and lotus root, the miso-flavored meat and the crunchy texture of the lotus root, really, really goes well with rice too. When you want to cleanse the palate, munching on the vinegar and kelp-pickled daikon is a fitting and refreshing break. "Aoi-dono!" Sasuke-kun, the O-niwaban guard has come here to Yugao. P22 Sasuke-kun was holding a bamboo straining basket, in his usual ninja-style. And, well, inside that basket were fresh red eggs. "These are the cassowary eggs that I have gathered tonight. The Master and Young Master sent me here to deliver these to you with my life, as it is a pity that there is only white rice to eat. You can now make egg-topped rice**." I bumped into him while running. That was the ultimate, crowning, and appropriate pairing to the rice. This is awesome! TKG has arrived here!** "Wah, I'll eat another bowlful more---" "Hey, that's unfair of you, O-ryo. Me too!" "Me too. It's because eggs are also served now." In the middle of the night, the Ayakashi were eating white rice in reckless abandon. "Please, I would like to fill my stomach with a bowlful of rice." "Yes, Sasuke-kun, please come have some." Anyone can't hide their excitement with egg-topped rice. Hollowing top of the hot, piping rice, when the shell is cracked open, the lovely raw egg is dropped in here. The cassowary's rich egg yolk's color, its shine, its jelly-like appearance, when it covers the rice, it has an irresistable charm. T/N: If you're going to try this, just a reminder that bacteria like Salmonella can contaminate the egg. Only do this with super-fresh eggs from a seller you trust because getting sick isn't worth it. TKG is basically tamago-kake-gohan, or how I wrote it here, egg-topped rice. P23 Ah, just looking at it, I know it's definitely delicious. "For sure, with egg-topped rice, it's Kakuriyo's mild soy sauce, isn't it?" I wanted a simple approach. "Soy sauce is good, but adding a little sesame oil is also delicious." As expected of O-ryo, who is in the majority group. "As a minority, I like mine to have noodle soup base and wasabi." From my peripheral vision I could see Akatsuki grumbling. But that seems to be delicious too. "I always eat it with ponzu. If there's dried bonito flakes and fried onions I'll add those too." For some reason, this was expected of Kasuga. "If there are seasonings, I'll add them." Sasuke-kun is too gallant. "Ok, ok, you can eat your differing favorites, that's good." Everyone's demands were heard, and I took various seasonings and flavorings and placed these at the center of the table. I, nonetheless the simpleton just added a bit of soy sauce over the yolk, and lightly broke it, mixing it with my chopsticks. In that moment, I felt a wonderful, happy feeling. Probably, just adding the egg, I haven't even finished mixing the runny egg in, I already took a bite. "Wahhh, taking the first bite of egg-topped rice is really something, isn't it?" P24 The rich flavor of the egg yolk makes it the best and enjoyable. After relishing the first bite, I completely mixed everything, and ate some more. "Hey, everyone, the meat with miso and lotus root also goes well with the egg-topped rice." Everyone noticed the previously-ignored meat with miso after Kasuga's discovery. Wah, it really does taste well together. This is a great discovery! Egg-topped rice is awesome! Just by itself is delicious, but arranging and adding flavors for variation, it's going to be an awesome feast. "It looks like you are all having fun." "Oh, Odanna-sama." Odanna-sama and Ginji-san came to Yugao together. O-ryo and Kasuga, Akatsuki and Sasuke-kun, who were all until now eating like as if in a stupor, all suddenly stopped and stood up, and deeply bowed to Odanna-sama. "It's alright, continue eating. Those are rare eggs." As if waiting for those words, everyone sat down again and continued eating. "Well, what's up? It's been a long time since you came here. Did both of you came here for some egg-topped rice? If that's the case, we have a lot right now." "No, it's not that, a while ago we welcomed some guests and we sat for a bit and already had our meals." P25 "I also may have drank a bit too much... That liquor was a tad strong.. Uhm.. I will eat some later, ok?" Both Ginji-san and Odanna-sama were definitely tipsy, somewhat. If they received some guests during work, why were they suddenly here? While in the middle of his rapid and nonchalant talking, is he going to suggest something? "Aoi, isn't Yugao on a break tomorrow? If you're free, let's go out on a date." "What?" In an instant. I realized that everyone who was continuing their eating all stopped their chopsticks. The Odanna-sama in question, who was really in a giddy mood continued smiling. "Aoi hasn't had a rest and had always been working hard even after returning from the Orio-ya matter. And I apologize for not taking the time too, for a long while. As a new wife, Aoi has not experienced any hour of fun at all." "It's fine, I have fun every day..." "That's it! Let's go to an orchard park. We can prepare food with apples and grapes, how's that?" While my face holds desperation, somehow Odanna-sama firmly grips my shoulder. "How's that" he says. "Apples and grapes, huh..." Pointing my finger to my chin, an idea popped into my head. For sure, there will be delicious autumn fruits. P26 "OK, let's go, Odanna-sama. I am interested in the orchard park." "I'm happy to hear you say that, Aoi!" With a sigh of relief, Odanna-sama wiped the sweat on his brow. The crowd of egg-topping eaters behind me, once again started moving their chopsticks. "Aoi-san, the orchard park is inside a mountain that connects the northern and north-eastern lands. The autumn leaves in that mountain change early, and I already heard that they're already in full display, so I hope that you can also enjoy the scenery tomorrow." "Ginji-san, you're not coming too?" "Me? I, uhm..." "You also haven't taken a break since the matter with Orio-ya, you should really take a break. Won't you come with us tomorrow?" Odanna-sama invited him, but Ginji-san looked at both Odanna-sama and I, and with a small smile shook his head. "No, thank you. I think I will take care of Tenjin-ya in Odanna-sama and Aoi-san's absence." I think it's the usual Ginji-san answer, but in that time, he wasn't looking at me.

End of Chapter 1, Volume 6. Next - Chapter 2

References:

Wonderful site for the youkai references

Other stuff I used to do this: Kodansha Kanji Learner’s Dictionary (you can buy here, I’m not sponsored btw). I was about to buy the older edition but then the newer one came out 2013 so I bought that instead. Worth buying since I was able to find nearly all of the words I needed just by stroke pattern alone.

Merriam-Webster's Japanese-English Dictionary (the red-covered 1996 version is apparently out of print right now). This is what I have been using for a very long time, I bought it when I was still a fetus (yes I am old so what lol), and after so many years, when compared to newer editions, I still prefer this one since its entirety is Japanese-English, the English to Japanese gloss are just 16 pages tops, so you get more Japanese words for your buck. But that’s just my opinion, maybe other people prefer the Jap-En x En-Jap IDEK.

Basic online dictionary, Jisho. Knowledge of verb conjugations  and other words are necessary since not all have entries.

If you can read Japanese, you can buy the whole set in Amazon Japan, they’re shipping worldwide now, I think.

A Good Business Transaction

Summary: Desperate for money after getting into trouble, Y/N enters into a ‘business transaction’ of sorts with resident Thrombey asshole, Ransom.

Pairing: Ransom x Reader

Word Count: 2,368

Warning: Gambling problems, paying for sex, p in v, blow jobs and gagging, fingering, squirting, name-calling, biting, creampies, canon divergent. I really went all out on this one. See below.

A/N: You can all blame my horny-for-Chris gf @heycasbutt​ for this.

You have money - not Thrombey money - but you have it. While waiting for Meg to finish with the will reading, you step outside the palatial Thrombey mansion to light up a cigarette, hoping it will quiet your nerves. Unfortunately, you probably have to smoke the entire pack in ten minutes and subsequently die to feel like you aren’t on edge anymore, but hey, that’s life. 

With shaky hands, you tap the lighter and watch the flame ignite, hoping that maybe you’ll spontaneously combust and not have to deal with your looming money problems.

“You know that shit’ll kill ya, right?” 

There goes the cigarette taking the edge off. “Eat shit, Drysdale.” Taking a drag, you let the smoke go into the subtle breeze making its way past the mansion. “What happened with the reading?”

“Family business,” he replies as the corner of his lips turns upward. “You can ask Meg. We’re all fucked.” Something on his face doesn’t read like he’s fucked - like he has something up his sleeve.

Meg’s been your best friend for years, despite you being a few years older, so you were hoping that she might be able to help you with your money issue, but if the whole family is fucked, you assume the entirety of Harlan’s money went to his caretaker Marta. “Well, fuck.”

You put out the half-finished cigarette on the side of the house and pull another one from the pack, quickly lighting it up as you try to wipe away a tear. Last thing you want to be doing is crying in front of Ransom Drysdale. Meg is the only reason you’ve ever met him. He’s sexy as hell but all the looks and money in the world can’t stop Ransom from being the world’s biggest asshole. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, the smallest note of caring entering his voice before he continues with his usual self. “Can’t milk Meg for all the money she’s not getting?”

“Fuck off, Ransom. Meg’s my best friend. I don’t do that kind of shit to people.”

“Everyone does when money’s involved,” he said confidently. “You got money problems?”

“I’m into it with a bookie, alright?”

“How much?”

“Fifty large, and my dad’s basically cut me off because he’s got a new whore he spends all his money on. The child he never wanted from the now dead mother isn’t his priority anymore.”

“What a cocksucker.” Ransom seems genuine for one of the first times in his life. “I can help you out.”

The red ember of the cigarette draws your attention for a moment. You know what he wants. He’s made no secret over the years. “With what money, Drysdale? You just said you’re all fucked.”

“I’ve got my ways.” The glint in his eyes said he was about to fuck his whole family in the ass, including Meg, but you had bookies on your ass and if he was about to come into some money, you needed it. 

You take a step toward him and take another drag. “I don’t what you’re about to do, but you really mean that? You’d keep the bookies from killing me? Because I’m headed six feet under if I don’t pay up by the end of the week.”

“Yea, I’m not completely heartless. My family can eat shit and die, but you-”

“You don’t want me to die when you haven’t had the chance to sleep with me yet.”

“Your words, not mine.”

“When do you expect to come into this money?” Despite Meg being your best friend your need for self-preservation trumps all. You’re about to fuck Meg over and yet you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“Few days. A week tops.”

“How about I give you a hint of what’s to come if you get me out of this?”

A raised eyebrow tells you that you’ve got him on the hook. He could be bullshitting about money, but your gut says he isn’t. “Any good business transaction needs some good faith, right?”

What an asshole. Grabbing him by the coat, you guide him behind the house. With his family losing their minds inside, no one will notice if you indulge Ransom’s dirty mind. You back yourself into the wall and slide down, feeling your hair catch in the roughness of the reddish brick.

“You think about this a lot?” He asks. “You got down on your knees pretty quickly.”

You glare at him through hooded eyes - the ‘eat shit’ implied. As you fumble with his belt, you hear him chuckle. God, you hate him. You pull him free of his boxers and run your tongue along the tip, catching the little drop of pre-cum that sits there. Despite his cocksure attitude, he shivers and slips his hand into your hair. “You gonna suck my cock, little girl?”

“I’m going to gag on your cock, Drysdale. Let you fuck it like it’s my pretty little cunt.”

Groaning, he grasps either side of your head and braces his forearms against the brick wall. “Open.”

You do as he says, sticking your tongue. “Fuck my mouth, Drysdale. And if you come through for me, you’ll get so much more. After I get paid of course.”

“Of course,” he says suredly. 

Reaching out, you grasp his balls with your dominant hand and guide him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around the velvety smooth skin. You moan around him and watch his jaw drop. This is gonna be the best head he’s ever gotten, if only to ensure that he pays up when the time comes. While his family fights somewhere in the distance, you take him over and over again, making a point not to swallow. If Ransom is anything, it’s dirty, nasty and messy.

A trail of spit drops onto your shirt. “Look at me,” he demands. “Stay still. It’s my turn.”

He places a hand behind your head. At first, you think it’s the act of a gentlemen, but then you realize it’s just Ransom ensuring that if he fucks your brains out he won’t actually fuck your brains out against the brick wall. It’ll be hard to get his money if he’s a convicted murderer. Ransom steps closer to the wall and guides his cock into your mouth again, unrelenting when he feels you gag. Your reflex forces him out and you laugh. Against your better judgement you have thought about his cock in your mouth more times than you care to admit. 

Arousal pools between your legs. If it weren’t for the fact that you need money, and the fact that Ransom would 100 percent fuck you senseless and then go back on his promise, you’d be him to fuck you right here, right now. As he thrusts in and out of your mouth, his cock heavy on your tongue, you hollow your cheeks and try to look up at him. You want to watch the cocky bastard lose his damn mind. 

When he sees your unfaltering gaze, he picks up the pace, his cock getting harder and harder with each pass. “I’m going to come down that pretty little throat.”

You swallow him down and grab his ass, anchoring him there as he pulses down your throat. You hate how turned on you are, shaking as you come. His right hand slinks around your neck so he can feel himself in your throat. “Little slut likes getting her throat fucked?”

“I do,” you reply, swallowing the last of his come as you rise to your feet. “Come through for me next week and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

As you walk away, you wipe the remnants of your ‘business transaction’ from your lips, confident that he’ll deliver.

                                                            ----

Meg’s been crying to you all week. Marta had the inheritance for all of a couple of days when she was found to have killed Harlan. She didn’t. You knew it. Something to do with Ransom you’re sure. But with your deadline to your bookies looming, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

As you knock on Ransom’s front door, you glance around, hoping that no one sees you, especially Meg. She knows about your money problems, so if she sees you’re still alive after walking into Ransom’s place she’ll put it together. She’s a smart girl.

“Come in,” he says, swinging the door open unceremoniously. “You got the account you need it routed to?”

“Yea,” you say, handing over the paper.

He says something about routing the money through various accounts so it’s safer, safer for him obviously; he wants to make sure your bookies can’t come after ‘his’ money. “Alright, call your guy and make sure the debt is paid.”

With shaky hands, you dial the number and wait for him to pick up. “Got my payment?”

“Close call, girl. Don’t let it happen again.” The disembodied voice responds. 

“It won’t.” Because you don’t plan on being here much longer than you have to. You’re going to pay your debt to Ransom, because he’s hot so why not, and then you’re planning on stealing what you can from your father and bouncing before he can do anything about it. Shouldn’t be a problem considering he doesn’t pay attention to anyone but his new whore. “Done,” you say, turning toward Ransom. “I appreciate it. I’ll be out of your hair soon. But I am ready to pay my debt if you’re so inclined.”

“You wear the type of lingerie I asked for?”

Unbuttoning your top, you show him a peek of the nude, see-through lace bra you’re wearing. “Panties match, too.”

“Good girl.” There’s a glint in his eyes that makes you weak in the knees. You’ve had plenty of sex in your life, but something about Ransom’s brash demeanor, give no fucks attitude and search for his own pleasure and his alone gets to you in the best way possible. You have no misgivings about your relationship with Ransom. It’s a business transaction. Money for sex. You got your money and you like sex, so why not follow through? “Strip. Leave the lingerie on though. I plan on destroying it.”

His red gaze remains fixed on you as you let the shirt drop to the floor and your jeans pool around your ankles. “Best 50k I’ve ever spent.”

“Bastard.”

“You like it,” he says as he begins to circle you.

Behind you, he pulls off his light blue sweater and throws it who knows where. All you hear is its soft thud on the ground before he spins you around and pushes you back toward the couch. You fall into it and watch him reach for what appears to be condoms. “Don’t,” you say. “I’m on the pill and I was just tested. I want you to come in my tight little cunt.”

“You are a little slut.” Happily, he throws the box to the side and drops to his knees in front of the couch, pulling the lace to the side so he can lap at your arousal. “I’m going to make you squirt. Scream my name. I plan on ruining you for every man that comes after me.” 

His tongue slides up and down your slit a few times before he slips two fingers inside. With his other hand, he rips the panties to shreds and discards the material on the floor next to him. You grab his head and silently beg for more - faster, harder - anything. When you clench your legs around his head, he starts to fuck you with his tongue, his hands clasping your thighs like his life depends on it. 

Pulling away, he leaves you wanting as he rough fucks your pussy with his fingers. “Squirt for me, slut.”

Your orgasm crests in an instant and then you’re doing what you haven’t before, crying out his name as you squirt. He laps it up like a man starved as you shake, his fingers still inside you. “You’ll never find another woman like me either, Hugh. Every woman you fuck until the end of time. You’ll wish she were me.”

He says nothing. You use his real name, knowing it’ll anger him, but he’s speechless. You’re right and he hates that. Pushing his pants down, he kicks them off and spreads your thighs with his roughened palms, bearing all his weight on you. 

With no ceremony whatsoever, he plunges into your wet heat, groaning at the fit. “God, your pussy is perfect.” Each slam of his cock makes you cry out, back arching into the couch, nipples taut against the thin, but confining fabric of your bra. Whether he senses your frustration or just wants to see all of you, you don’t know, and you don’t care, because he pushes the lace above your breasts. 

As he pounds into you, he bends down to take one of your nipples between his teeth. “Fill my pussy up Ransom. I want it.” You wrap your legs around his waist and use your heels to push him into you harder and harder. 

His sweat-slick skin meets yours as he bends down to take your mouth in a searing kiss. It’s filled with lust and hatred and leaves your head spinning as another orgasm threatens to turn you to jelly. 

Each groan and growl says he isn’t far from coming himself. He grasps your inner thighs and scratches at the skin, pulling out all the way before pumping back in. When he comes, you cry out, “Ransom!” You rub your clit and arch up, muscles spasming as his cock twitches inside you, hot thick ropes of come pooling inside you. 

“Fuckin hell,” he breathes. “I’ll be thinking about this pussy for a long time.”

You dip your finger into your pussy and feel his come, bringing it to your mouth for a taste. You make a point of not breaking his gaze. Sure you’re leaving, but you want to make a lasting impression on the asshole. “Take a picture, Ransom, it’ll last longer.”

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he finds his phone and replies, “You know what? I think I will. For posterity’s sake.” He smirks.

Blissed out and filled with come, you smile for the camera. “Eat shit, Drysdale.”

Fangs for the Hospitality

Chapter 1

Summary: After Remus goes a bit too far during a family reunion bet, Roman finds himself alone and near freezing outside in an early winter storm. His car broke down, and he's in the middle of nowhere with no phone. He cant seem to catch a break. Deciding his life cant much worse, Roman decides to head into the woods looking for help. His luck may be turning when the man who opens the door is a lot more charming than he should be. His kids are fascinated by the new face appearing from the woods. And man this guy has some sharp teeth... Maybe Roman bit off a bit more than he can chew with this one.

A/N: My self-indulgent magic/vampire fic! Let me know if I need to tag something or you wanna be tagged!

Pairings: Familial DAM, Creavtivitwins, Eventual Roceit, Eventual Intrulogical

Warnings: (Done per chapter) Car trouble, mention of bets, gossip, mentions of bad family relations

Word Count: 1466

Read on AO3!

“God Dammit! No no nonono please! Don’t do this to me!” Roman whined at his car from behind the wheel from the driver's seat.

Despite his pleading, the car continued to sputter even louder than previously. Finally starting to slow down, leaving Roman no choice other than to pull his car off to the side of the road.

He continued to lament his plight to no one except the empty seat beside him, leaning over to place his forehead on the steering wheel.  At this point he couldn't even try to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks landing on his lap.

There was no one else on the empty, countryside road making it easy to do so.

“Why does this always happen to me!?” He whined as he turned the key finally giving the engine a much needed break. “I can’t do this anymore! The world hates meee!”

Earlier that day the passenger seat was filled by his overly excitable twin brother, Remus, on their way to the yearly family reunion. Roman has always hated these reunions with a burning passion. He only went because he was expected to at this point.

There was always too much expectation from everyone at the reunions. Since his family was quite well off they were the one to host every year. Inviting everyone to their too grand, too big victorian style home.

Remus, on the other hand, had always liked the family reunions. He too was asked those questions (well not the one about his career, they were all quite proud of him becoming a doctor. Specifically an obstetrician and gynecologist. Remus said it was because delivering babies was gross and dealing with people who have female reproductive systems health could be horrifying, but he can never deny how much he liked helping the people he did. He has a counter on his fridge of how many babies he has brought into the world and sometimes he even looks at it and smiles, not that Remus knew that Roman saw him do that.) but Remus let the other questions roll straight off his back in a way Roman never could.

He was holding on hope that this year, like every year, would be different. Maybe his mother would stop asking if he had chosen a more suitable career path like Remus. Maybe his grandmother would stop asking if he found a pretty girl yet. Maybe his grandfather would be anything more than dismissive toward him.   Maybe...maybe his dad might show up to this one.

Not to mention that they also just made him wildly uncomfortable. Too many people really. All those people being fake and backhanded. He alway felt like they were looking specifically at him as he walked by. Just a bad time for him all around.

Remus really liked the reunions because of the gossip and chaos of it all. Every year as soon as they arrived he would immediately go and find their cousin Remy to lay down the new hot tea about the family. Then after all that was settled they would place bets on who could get the most outrageous rumor started. Remy would typically win because of his talent for making such believable lies. Remus always went too far off the deep end and the family didn't usually believe what they were being told. Which was completely fair because “what do you mean Jill isn't here because she suddenly decided to take a trip to West Virginia to look for Mothman? Remus Jill is 89 years old. And who is Mothman?”

That stupid rumor game is what started this whole mess anyway. Roman always tried to stay out of it. He wasn't very good at the game, though he was a good actor he was very bad at lying. So for the past few years he'd skip out on playing. He'd just go to his corner, and wait for the night to be over.

This year Remus and Remy decided to up the ante as it were. There was going to be a whole $50 bill on the line this time (though that was trump change compared to how much money his family actually made). Remus is never one to back down from a challenge and though he's a doctor, he doesn't tend to think ahead of his actions all that well. Especially when he got a bit too excited. That being said, he really messed things up for Roman this time.

That stupid game had made everyones eyes turn to him for an explanation that he didn’t have. Forced him to run from the house and flee in his car without Remus behind him.

Roman didn't take time to dwell on the fact he was his brother's ride.

With his head still on the steering wheel he closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. He didn't know how he was going to get out of this one, so he continued to sit a wallow a bit. Maybe he’ll just wait a bit and his car will start back up…

~~~

Roman pulled the car into the last spot left open in the large parking lot outside of their parents mansion.

He pulled in between what looked to be his Aunt Clara and Uncle Jim's red corvette, and his Grandmother dark blue rolls-royce. He took extra care parking in between the two very expensive cars. Making sure to leave plenty of room around them and his own, significantly crappier car. He knew from experience that if he didn't leave the room he would be getting an earful later from said family members.

As he turned the key he let out a nervous breath looking over to Remus who was almost bouncing in his seat.

“You ready?” Roman asked with a slight smile. As much as he was worried to be here, he was glad his brother would have a good time.

“I can’t wait! I can’t wait to beat Remy's ass this year! I have such a good rumor that the whole family is going to believe for years to come. That 50 dollars is mine!” Remus smiled bright and pumped his fist in the air.

Roman couldn’t help but feel excited for him. Remus even seemed more excited now, if the bouncing and fidgeting said anything.

“I’m sure you’ll get it out of him one way or another. Come on, let's go.” Roman started for his car door when Remus’ arm shot out and stopped him. Roman looked back to Remus to see he had stopped bouncing, seeming somewhat sobered. Looking more serious, and to be contemplating something tilting his head back and forth. Then he finally spoke.

“Listen...I know this isn't your kind of thing since dad left... But I’m with you okay? Stick with me if you need to. Those old assholes don't know what they're talking about with you, okay?” Remus looked slightly shy as he spoke, not looking directly at Roman.

Still, Roman smiled softly at his twin, both a bit confused and touched. Remus didn't typically try and make Roman feel better; he wasn't very good with words. But he did appreciate the sentiment.

“Thank you Remus. I’ll try to enjoy myself. Might even try to leave my corner if I feel so inclined.” Roman smiled. “Maybe dable in a little bit conversion. Just try to keep your hijinks somewhat clean and manageable.”

“Well that's no fun!” And Remus was back to his normal self, seeming grateful for the topic change. “My only reason to be here is to cause chaos and you know it! Now let's go! There is supposed to be a really big storm coming and if we're lucky the snow will distract everyone from when I plan to steal the bust of great Aunt Kathy!” Remus cackled as he exited the car, way more excited then he should be for a man who admitted to planning theft.

Roman took the moment alone to take a stealing breath. He looked out the window at the huge family house where he grew up. It was much too big, too grand for children to grow up in. It didn't feel like home anymore. Looking back it never really did to Roman.

He hated coming here and he hated the feelings associated here. But if it makes Remus happy to come here together, and it keeps the rest of his family off his back, he’ll keep trying. A knock on the window made him jump out of his thoughts.

“You fucking ready!? I’m freezing my tits off out here ya know!” Remus shouted too loud for how close he was to the window.

“As I’ll ever be…” he muttered to himself, smiling a bit at Remus being Remus as he unbuckled his seatbelt and left the car.

~~~

Next Chapter

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@primaveradoodles

drowning in love - stony

Read on AO3

~*~ 

The thing is that he doesn't keep his words hidden. They're delicate chicken scratch that he used to trace when Howard left his bruises and when Maria couldn't bother to be around him. 

They were a promise, that one day, someone would be glad of him. 

And then Rhodey spilled into his dorm room, took one look at Tony, sitting cross-legged on the floor and unassembling a lamp and he'd grinned, wide and white and pleased. 

"Oh good, you're here." 

Tony's eyes had gone wide and he'd dropped the lamp and blurted, "It's you, platypus, holy shit." 

And that wide pleased grin went wider. 

*~* 

He doesn't hide it. 

He's got the best fucking soulmate in the world, his platypus, and he's never wanted to hide that. 

But when the giant blonde guy smiling at him while he orders coffee catches sight of his words, all watercolor splashed blues and red, his face goes still and sad and his smiles stop. 

Tony doesn't say anything else, just keeps that smile firmly in place, shoves a tip in the jar and takes his coffee as he retreats. 

*~* 

Rhodey loops an arm around his shoulder, words brushing Tony's arm and tingling. "You gonna come with us tonight?" 

He flicks a look at them--Rhodey in his jeans and tight tshirt and that smile that he only gives Tony, his words a brilliant splash of color. Carol with her long hair blonde and curling, stunning in that tiny red number, her words a curling lick of black. 

"No, I'm gonna study, I think," he says, smiling. 

Rhodey's grin dims, just a little and he steps closer. "You ok, genius?" 

"I'm fine, platypus. Go. Have fun." 

He hesitates, but let's Carol drag him away. 

*~*

This is the thing: words are black, until you meet your soulmate, and white if they die. 

Most parents register a word or phrase, something unusual or distinct, with the ISMD--but Tony had never registered platypus, and Rhodey had never bothered at all. 

This is the thing: soulmates trump wedding vows and military orders, trump laws of man and god, have ended wars and marriages and toppled kingdoms. All in the name of cosmic love. 

This is the thing: not all soulmates love each other. 

*~* 

The blonde watches him. His nametag says Steve, and he’s tall, with these impossible shoulders and tiny fucking waist, giant hands that are so careful when he’s working the levers and machine, deftly creating art in the top of Tony’s drink. 

He doodles, too, when the coffeeshop empties out and it’s just the two of them, him behind his counter and Tony behind his tablet, a million lines of code and four watercolor words between them. 

Because Tony--he knows what those heavy-lidded, guilty stares mean. 

He knows that Steve wants him. 

But those heavy-lidded guilty stares always slide from his ass or his lips, from his eyes and his long fingers--to the words on his arm that he’s never, not once, hidden. 

And they drop away. 

*~* 

“What are you drawing today?” he asks, while Steve presses a panini for him and he inhales the first delicious sip of coffee. 

It burns in the best possible way, chases the chill of Howard’s disapproval and Boston in January away. 

Steve blinks at him and Tony smiles. “I’ve been in here every other day for over a semester. You think I didn’t notice you sketching?” 

Steve tips his head, studying Tony. His words are still covered by the long sleeves of Rhodey’s sweatshirt, and maybe--maybe that’s why. 

Steve slides the sketch pad across the counter, and Tony looks at it. 

It’s--his table, an almost watercolor sketch, the blacks and greys blending with the whites in a way that immediately calls to mind the watercolor splash on his arm. 

But it’s his table, his tablet discarded and long fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee, the shape of his shirt in the background. 

Tony looks up at him, and Steve is staring back,bright-eyed and hungry and his heart does this thing--flips and twists--

The door swings open, and he hears, clear as day, “Oh good, you’re here.” 

The color drains outta Steve’s face and he shuffles back, looking sick, and Tony huffs, twisting to look at Rhodey. “Oh my god, platypus.” 

Rhodey’s grin is sharp and pleased. 

*~* 

He loves Rhodey. And Rhodey loves him, this deep and abiding sort of love that settles him when he feels like he’s shaking apart, that feels like home when nothing in his life has ever felt like home. 

But he’s not in love with Rhodey. 

He thinks it’d be easier, sometimes, if he was. If they could be that, too, 

They aren’t. They tried, once--Tony tried, crawled into Rhodey’s bed and pressed a wet drunk kiss to his lips and Rhodey had sighed and wrestled him down, forced him to sleep. 

He was gentle, when he explained to Tony that they were never gonna be more than this. More than friends, brothers, soulmates. 

And it didn’t sting, the way he thought it would. It was right, settled next to that home and safe and loved feeling that Rhodey always gave him. 

Still. 

In a world that saw soulmarks and equaled up to epic love--it was damn complicated. 

*~* 

“Your soulmate,” Steve says, and his words are stiff. Almost angry. 

It’s the first time Steve’s talked to him in weeks--even the glances, all sweet and longing and conflicted--had slowed. 

Tony blinks at him. 

“You should talk to him.” 

He frowns. “Why--did something happen?” 

“Just--this--talk to him,” Steve almost begs, and drops a chocolate croissant on the table before stalking back to his counter. 

Panic clawing at him, Tony bolts for home. 

*~* 

They wore them, the words that marked each other, like badges of honor. 

Tony didn’t get it, really, why Rhodey never complained about being tied to Tony. He just smiled and shook his head and once, when Rhodey dragged Tony home--he understood, just a little bit. 

Because Rhodey was the middle child in a family of five, the one who was peacemaker and forgotten, the son that everyone expected to succeed and no one celebrated when he did. He was loved, deeply, the kind of love so deep and abiding it didn’t need to be stated. 

But he wasn’t seen, really. 

Not until Tony stared at him, bright eyes fixed on him like he was the only star in the sky. 

*~*

Tony swings into the cafe, and the dark haired burly guy is behind the counter. 

“I need to talk to Steve,” Tony says, abruptly. 

“Stevie ain’t here.” 

“That is very clear. I’ll just sit here and wait for him.” 

The man snorts, and digs in his pocket for his phone. “Your boy is here. No, I don’t think he’s gonna move. Just get your ass down here, man.”

He huffs, and pockets the phone. Eyes Tony sharp and serious. “You better not hurt him.” 

*~*

They never said--not publicly--what kind of bond they shared. 

It was no one’s business but their own. They were close, Rhodey falling into Tony’s space and Tony curling into Rhodey’s lap, easy affection and teasing nicknames, and people made their own assumptions. 

They never cared. 

*~* 

Steve’s gaze immediately tracked to the big guy behind the counter, and Tony, tucked into his corner, watched, the way they communicated without a word, the tension easing in Steve’s shoulders, and the little smirk, cocky and knowing, on the other man’s lips before he pushed off the wall. “Gonna close up early, punk.”

And he knows, he knows what that kind of easy intimacy and closeness means, what that word means, heavy hung in the air and easing the tightness in Steve’s eyes. 

“See ya at home, Buck,” Steve says, his gaze finding Tony, and something sure and hot settles in his gut. 

*~*

He’s asked about it, sometimes. He’s never made a secret of his mark, never done anything to keep it tucked away or hidden. He’s asked about it, when it gleams bright and beautiful at the world and his date sways, blonde and beautiful and not his. 

But Tony may not hide his mark--might flaunt it, because his Rhodey loves him, wants him, needs him and there is not a single person in the world better to be loved by--but he’s never once answered questions about the mark. 

He merely smiles, when they shout questions, while Howard stiffens and Tony flirts and slides his way out of the questions. 

Because the words--they were a promise, that one day someone would want him--and he did, Rhodey did. They were his armor, the shield between him and a world that only wanted him for what he could give them. 

Rhodey though--Rhodey was his, and Tony? He’d always been fiercely jealous and bad at sharing. 

*~* 

“Show me your mark,” Tony demands. 

Steve stared at him, his head tipped curiously as he watches, as Tony pushes out of his corner, and into Steve’s space. 

His mark is brilliant, a splash of blue and red and hues of gold shot through. It’s bare and glaringly evident, the sleeves of his sweatshirt shoved up over his elbows. 

Steve hesitates, and Tony reaches for him. “You watch me. You stare at it, and you stare at me.” 

“You’re wrong about him,” Tony says, and he smiles, fingers running gently over the dark blue band around Steve’s arm. “He’d never hurt me. He’s not--we’re not like that.” 

Something bright and hopeful flickers in Steve’s eyes and Tony murmurs, as gentle as a caress. “Show me?” 

Steve sighs, and he strips the band away slowly, his shoulders and jaw stiff. 

His word--just the one, scratched in rough hurried script--is pale. Is white. 

Tony’s stomach drops and Steve shakes his head. “Bucky--when he lost the arm--it went white. He’s--you met him, he’s fine, but--” 

“But you keep it hidden,” Tony says, softly. Steve nods, and Tony licks his lips. “Do you watch mine because you miss your own colors--or because you want my words.” 

“I love my soulmate,” Steve says, soft, fierce. 

“I love Rhodey,” Tony says, and steps closer, a long line of warmth draped across Steve’s chest. “But not all love is romantic, sweetheart.” 

Steve’s eyes go wide, and his hands--his big, broad hands that are so gentle and so capable--close over his hips. 

The kiss is soft, a gentle brush against Tony’s lips that feels like moth wings and a promise as intoxicating as the one written on his arm. 

*~* 

Rhodey is his home, has been since they met and his wrist burned and brightened and warmed. 

Steve--Steve isn’t his home, isn’t written into his soul and skin. 

But he holds Tony in the dark, and his fingers tangle with Tony’s in the bright green spring, and his eyes are soft and warm, when he stares at Tony, when he murmurs promises and praise against Tony’s lips, and fucks him hard. 

Rhodey glares and huffs and threatens Steve, once, when Tony is in the bathroom. Bucky does the same. He’s not terribly surprised--he is a little pleased. 

They are very good soulmates after all. 

*~* 

When they marry, years later, their soulmates stand with them, and Steve’s mark is pale white and faded and Tony’s is a riot of watercolor, and they’re sandwiched between the two who loved them first and last and always. 

Tony kisses Steve, a ring burning on his finger, and words burning on his arm, and drowning in love. 

Mars in the Houses

Mars in the 1st house: Mars in the 1st house creates a fiery, aggressive personality. Individuals with this placement can be quite exciting to be around. They are passionate to the max and full of energy. Where they are, the action is. Because the 1st house rules appearance, they may be powerfully built with a strong, muscular physique. They are not afraid to work hard and they are especially keen to get things started. When negatively aspected, Mars in the 1st can produce people who act before they think or who respond to situations with physical violence. It can also indicate people who are great at starting things but not so hot on finishing. Famous people with this placement: RuPaul, Winston Churchill, Marie Antoinette, Johnny Depp.

Mars in the 2nd house: Cue the Donna Summer music for this placement of Mars produces someone who works hard for their money. They are ambitious for money and material goods. Cash drives them. Often times, they will prefer to work on their own rather than work for a boss or company. Which means: it’s an excellent placement for entrepreneurship. Individuals with this placement can also be financially competitive and quite possessive when it comes to their personal property. Don’t touch their stuff or else you face their wrath! If afflicted, this can produce a person who will do whatever it takes to achieve their financial goals, even if that means resorting to dishonesty or thuggish criminal activity. Famous people with this placement: Freddie Mercury, Vladimir Putin, Elizabeth Taylor, Russell Brand.

Mars in the 3rd house: This placement of Mars indicates a sharp, quick mind. Individuals with Mars in the 3rd are often times brash communicators, able to assert their opinions aggressively. They don’t mince words. In fact, they can often be harsh. The “brutally honest” person is an example. This placement is ideal for people who work in careers where debate is part of their work. For example, attorneys or political commentators could be quite effective if this is where Mars hangs in their chart. On the downside, it can also indicate a person who jumps to conclusions and likes to bicker. Trouble with siblings, neighbors, travel, and communication are also ways this placement rolls when Mars is afflicted. Famous people with this placement: Miley Cyrus, Lana Del Rey, Marilyn Manson, Paul Newman.

Mars in the 4th house: Mars in the 4th house folks expend a lot of energy in the home. This is the old “rule the roost” vibe. They want to be the dominant force in the family, which can often lead to drama, especially if they are unable to regard the feelings of the other members of the household. While they can be protective of their kin, they can also be controlling. Conflicts with parents is typical. If afflicted, the energy is amplified and the family dynamics can be toxic and volatile. There can also be trouble with property. For example, the home could be destroyed by fire. Most people with this placement do better when they move out of the parental home. Famous people with this placement: Amy Winehouse, Prince, Jim Morrison, Ted Bundy.

Mars in the 5th house: This is a hot ’n sexy placement for Mars. Individuals with Mars in the 5th love to pursue romance and pleasure. They are not shy – in fact, they tend to be quite aggressive when interested in someone. They’ve got game, yo! The sexual nature is also strong, which means that they could be quick to hop in the sack. A bit of self-control can help them avoid making mistakes (aka the “coyote ugly” morning). This placement is excellent for teachers as long as the individual keeps their power in check. An afflicted Mars in the 5th could produce a jealous, sexually demanding person or promiscuous one that flits from one relationship to another impulsively. Sometimes this can indicate an unexpected pregnancy. Famous people with this placement: George Clooney, Pamela Anderson, Robert Redford, Charles Manson.

Mars in the 6th house: This is the placement of the workaholic. Folks with 6th house Mars love to work and tend to have plenty of stamina. You will rarely find a lazy person with this placement. They have a good work ethic and often expect everyone to work as hard as they do. Woe be it to the person who works under this person and doesn’t live up to their standards! Routines are important to them and they will spend much time organizing and fretting over details. They can be harsh critics but don’t take kindly when someone criticizes them. If Mars is afflicted here, the natives can be prone to overwork or arguments with coworkers. The terrible boss who makes work hell for everyone else ala Devil Wears Prada would be an example of a poorly aspected Mars in the 6th. Famous people with this placement: JayZ, Julia Roberts, Clint Eastwood, Coco Chanel.

Mars in the 7th house: Mars in 7th house people are aggressive in partnerships, both romantic and business. They will actively pursue relationships and once in them, will be determined to make them work. In a romantic relationship, sex will be important. In business, compromise will be a must. Impulse needs to be avoided in the choice of partners or the individuals will learn some pretty big lessons. Look before you leap into any relationship should be their mantra. This placement of Mars can also produce excellent lawyers. If you need to hire one, check to see if they have Mars here. If Mars is afflicted, relationships can be full of drama and discord, which can cause the severing of ties.Famous people with this placement: Adolf Hitler, Barack Obama, Whitney Houston, Natalie Portman.

Mars in the 8th house: This is another placement that can bring on a strong sexual nature. Passion is paramount for these sensuous folks. They are intense so do know if you’re getting involved with one of these people, you’re gonna be exploring the erotic side like never before! They may be interested in tantra or sex magic as well as the occult. Mars in the 8th house people are extremely psychic – they can tune in quite easily. You can’t fool them for long! Sooner or later they see right through ya. There may be a lot of aggression around joint finances. If the Mars is poorly aspected, it can lead to issues around tax, sex, and inheritances. Famous people with this placement: Marilyn Monroe, John F. Kennedy, Courtney Love, Gary Oldman.

Mars in the 9th house: Here, Mars indicates an interest in travel and philosophy. The individual with this placement may travel widely in order to broaden their perspective. Foreign travel is especially of interest to them. Wanderlust will be strong and the desire to “see the world” may keep them on the road. They are also quite aggressive about promoting their own ideals. That preachy friend who goes on and on about politics or religion – that. If the chart is afflicted, they can become narrow-minded fanatics who try and push their beliefs on others. Think: cult leader. If you’re ever in a cult and your leader has this placement, don’t drink the damn Kool-Aid. Famous people with this placement: Angelina Jolie, Hillary Clinton, Madonna, Kendrick Lamar.

Mars in the 10th house: Individuals with Mars in the 10th work tirelessly towards their way to the top. They want status, which means they will be extremely ambitious and competitive. Power and fame drive them – and in some cases may produce a leader who does what they can to step into the top dog role. You will find many corporate executives and politicians with this placement. When well aspected, they will inspire others as they gain power. If poorly aspected, this can produce the individual who stop at nothing to achieve their goals, even if that means trampling over the rights of others. A fall from grace is possible if that is their method of operation. No one likes a bully. Famous people with this placement: Beyoncé, Kanye West, Andy Warhol, Rasputin.

Mars in the 11th house: Mars in the 11th house indicates individuals who place a lot of importance on friendships. They enjoy working in groups and are often effective leaders. Some of their friendships may be based on professional or political ambitions. They will be excellent networkers who seem to know everyone. Yet they will have few people in their inner circle. They prefer to keep that part rather exclusive. (Sometimes it’s because they are a bit paranoid.) If the Mars is afflicted, there can be treachery through friends or power struggles in groups. They could also attract friends that lead them astray or into dangerous situations. Great care must be taken in the choice of buddies. Famous people with this placement: Taylor Swift, Chris Brown, Oprah Winfrey, Mitt Romney.

Mars in the 12th house: Folks with Mars in the 12th house like to work in secret. Like the Wizard of Oz, they prefer to be behind the scenes, managing operations in order to avoid the scrutiny or opposition of others. They often have deep, dark secrets too. Sometimes these are of a sexual nature. The unconscious mind is strong and may influence their actions. It’s important for these people to be clear on what their motives are when engaging in a situation. If afflicted, this Mars can produce a person who has many secret enemies or who has trouble with honesty. In worse case scenarios, the individuals could be confined to prisons or institutions. In some cases, this could be due to political reasons (ex: a political prisoner or prisoner of war). Famous people with this placement: Donald Trump, David Bowie, Osama Bin Laden, Rose McGowan, Muammar al-Gaddafi.