#‘Husband and wife turning themselves against each other. Such a record he found himself thinking’ i rlly like this line!!

[jessamine-rose]

Aaaahhhh Navina!! Thank you so much for the continuation. I loved everything about it <3

Ngl reading it makes me want to extend Boss’s misery and delay their happy ending HAHAHA. Ironically, a “loveless” marriage is the closest thing to an expression of love from Darling….for now. Perhaps someday, she’ll give Boss some peace of mind but not today ψ(｀∇´)ψ

So I ended up fast forwarding a bit and writing this drabble for Boss x Friend! Darling……ahahaha I hope you all enjoy this scenario >:’3

Note:: All Boss x Friend! Darling stories take place in the AU where Boss wins in One Last Call

-

There is no romantic proposal.

But that is fine for a “marriage of convenience.”Rather than an emotional proposal in a special place, the two of them are just signing legal documents in Darling’s home.

Aside from the marriage contract, there are many things to discuss—ring designs, living arrangements, cover story for their coworkers, whether or not they’ll have a wedding. The whole time, Darling acts serious and meticulous; it’s a side of her that Boss doesn’t see often.

Then again, he expects nothing less from a senior manager of Celestia Inc.

If things went his way, this marriage would be “real.” Alas, Darling still refuses to give her heart to him, hence why Boss is yielding to her terms. It doesn’t mean that he has given up, though.

Now that they’re married, he will have more opportunities to win her over emotionally. And thanks to this agreement, no one else will pursue Darling or judge them for their previously single status.

“And that’s it.” Darling signs the prenup and looks up to face him. “Here’s to our shared future. Let’s hope you don’t do anything to make me regret this decision.”

“I could say the same,” he shoots back. “I can only imagine the many ways you will test my patience moving forward.”

Not that he dislikes it. By now, the both of them know that Darling has him wrapped about her finger. It’s funny, really—in his desire to control her, he is controlled by his desire for her.

“If you are going to blame anyone later on,” he continues, “it should be yourself for forcing my hand to begin with.”

“Now, now.” At that, Darling’s lips curve into a familiar smile. Her next words sound better than any yes or I do. “Don’t be so mean to your wife~”

Now all that’s left to own is her heart.

-

And they lived happily ever after—jk it will still take months/ years for Boss to make Darling say “I love you” to him. At least he gets a partial victory in another universe xD

I still have more ideas for what happens in Boss x Friend! Darling’s relationship before they reach this point, and aahhhh I can’t wait to make Boss even more of an asshole + boyfailure <3

I hope you don't mind that I did a small continuation to fuel the thoughts of making him a boyfailure btw LMAOOOO

It should've been a loveless marriage.

It should have. That should've been what was expected from the two of them.

And yet, as he found himself one night, years past their first day in being 'married', he found himself unable to put focus on such a thing. To remember that, in a way, this isn't what he could bargain for in the long run.

It was a night like no other. A peaceful, idyllic one, if not for her back turned to him. And his turned back to her as well, for the sake of personal space.

Husband and wife, turning themselves against each other. Such a record, he found himself thinking, but he couldn't bring himself to say yet another word.

Boss— no, Alexander— often had troubles in his mind. Even as the Boss of one of the partner companies of Celestia Inc., the one that focuses on MixMatch as a whole and running his own shady business below, he still found himself thinking through the night.

It left him to stay up, unable to get a wink of rest. And he despised the thought.

Normally, he would find himself able to relax and sleep after 4 hours. He was an insomniac, but nothing that couldn't be solved if he idled long enough with nothing in his mind. Although, as he found out, this was not what he had hoped to occur.

Not with her.

After a while of idling and praying to Gods above to help him sleep to no avail, he turned his body to face her back. He could hear her breathing, even when they're not too close to do such a thing, and his hand quietly reached over to grab hers.

He isn't fond of vulnerability. He's never fond of thinking he should be... Open to someone without thinking they'd stab you on the back.

He hates it. Loathes it to the very core of his being. He couldn't fathom of how people can trust those that could bring them harm, that could simply ruin them if they so much as tried to put their trust and get in fights with them.

But as he held her hand, he felt his shoulders relax. He felt his body lose its tension.

... He's such a fool, he thinks. Just how badly must he crave for someone who'd never love him, when he, himself, can never bring the same commitment?

Maybe it was a curse. A poison he willingly drank, foolishly thinking that no one would catch his eye.

He knew his days were numbered, but in such a night like this, he found himself thinking that it wouldn't be so bad.

He's grown softer. Cordial. Over the years he spent with her, his walls weathered down and became nothing but mere wooden remains. He even found himself thinking that he could simply be laid to rest, and he'd be happy, so as long she remains by his side.

But he will never say that to her.

His pride, his ego, his mind will never let him.

He can cry in anguish all he wants, and truly, he could— but he knew that the day they were together, it will always remain this way.

It was unrequited from the beginning. Maybe he's deluded himself so much into thinking he's had a chance, but he isn't stupid.

So, for now, he will cherish the littlest things he gets from her. He'll cherish the only thing she's allowed him to get.

Her heart will be a grandeur treasure he'd take and never return, but he's content in the time they spent together. In a bit of an irony, he found himself thinking that their time was worth more than just an organ.

After all, what use is a heart if it stopped beating?

Will there be use of an organ when the memories will be the thing left beating?

He didn't knew. No one else knew.

And for once, that left him in a stupor.

Perhaps he can think about this some other time.

Not when he has her in his hand, just like tonight.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 29

First

Previous

Next

Chat was still reeling from the bombshell that was ‘everyone apparently knows about his family life’ when Master Fu had told them that he probably knew Hawkmoth… and then, because apparently the universe wasn’t done with him, Master Fu had told them that he had personally chosen Hawkmoth.

Master Fu sighed as he looked over all their faces and then motioned for them to sit down. They did so without question or complaint, though it was mostly because everyone was in shock and on autopilot.

He leaned heavily against his cane.

“You all know the way the story started. About thirty years ago, a woman calling herself Paon started terrorizing Paris with what she called Sentimonsters using the peacock miraculous.”

Of course they knew the story. They had only been alive for a little more than half of it, but that didn’t mean they didn’t remember the giant Sentimonsters wreaking havoc every day. Those kinds of memories stick with you.

“To counter her, a man called Pieris, with powers that varied by the battle, rose to counteract her.”

They all nodded. They were beginning to piece together who Hawkmoth was, they weren’t stupid, but… one thing didn’t make sense:

“But Pieris would have been an akuma, not Hawkmoth,” said Rena, frowning.

“Who says Hawkmoth can’t akumatize himself?” Said Master Fu quietly. He sighed again, looking even older than usual. “Anyways, you all know that it took about twenty years for him to defeat her.”

They all nodded again. Chat hadn’t been allowed out, but he remembered all of the parties and celebrations when it had been announced that Paon’s reign of terror was over.

(Not that he’d wanted to be let out at the time. His mother had just died, going out and having fun had felt wrong. How could he be happy when his mother would never be able to do so again?)

“But… it turned out that the man that I had chosen to be Pieris was Paon’s husband. When he found out what he had done to his wife, he was overcome with grief. His miraculous corrupted him.”

Beside him, Rena clenched her fists. “So… did you choose Paon, too? Is this just our fate? One day we’ll just go evil and there’s nothing --?”

“No,” Master Fu cut her off. “Paon… it was passed through her family. Sometimes the person would use it for good, other times bad, but no matter what they passed it on once the eldest child became an adult.”

Rena relaxed, but only slightly.

Chat couldn’t find it in himself to do the same.

He turned and buried his face in Rena’s shoulder, unsure what to do. There was no way...

Right?

Chat bit his lip.

His parents had always been very busy and a little bit distant, though he had just attributed that to their jobs. Then there was the fact that his mother’s death coincided with the day that Paon had last been seen. When Paon and Pieris had disappeared his father had been more present, and when Hawkmoth had appeared his father had suddenly had a heavy workload again...

But that could be explained away, he thought. The death could be an unlucky coincidence, and who wants to do extra work when their wife has just died? And then who’s to say that his father couldn’t get back into work again by the time Hawkmoth had appeared? No, that could make sense.

His father HAD been really interested in his ring, though --.

No.

Gabriel Agreste COULDN’T be Hawkmoth. Chat didn’t have any proof of it, but he knew it to be true. Sure, the man was distant, but that didn’t mean he was evil. After all, Chat still had memories of his father sitting him on his lap and letting him color a design he’d made. He could still remember all the times his father had shifted aside in bed so he could cuddle after a nightmare. How could a man like that be evil?

How could a man like that knowingly endanger his son every day?

No. There were other people.

Sure, there were only a few people he could consider himself close to, but that didn’t mean he never talked to anyone outside of his family, servants, Kagami, and Chloe. As an Agreste, he’d attended many different balls and galas and even business meetings to represent his family, he was acquainted with plenty other rich people.

Yeah. There were other options. He was just jumping to conclusions because of the Traitor Scare a few days beforehand. Yeah. It was someone else. It had to be.

~

Rena had been the one to escort Master Fu home. Maybe it was to question him further, they didn’t know. They were all pretty sure they didn’t want to ask, though, because she came home looking even more dejected than before.

When she got back she took a seat on the table. Chat had perched himself in the window. Chloe had laid across the couch, legs in Ladybug’s lap. Carapace had slung himself across the armchair.

Despite the disparity in their positions, however, all their faces had the same contemplative look.

Rena was the first one to speak: “Fuck that guy, am I right?”

Ladybug laughed a little, though it sounded forced. “Yeah. All I’m getting is that the bitch didn’t use to have child heroes.”

There was a beat, and then Carapace sat up suddenly. “Wait a minute, you’re right! Pieris was an adult!”

“It’s probably because kids are easier to manipulate,” said Chloe quietly. All eyes fell on her. “Think about it. Chat, Ladybug, and Carapace never really defend themselves -- Carapace defends other people, sure, but he wasn’t close enough to any of us to bother before. Rena and I both started out practically worshiping at least one of you guys. For one reason or another, we were all pretty easy to manage.”

The silence that followed the statement was deafening.

The longer they stewed in it the angrier they got and the luckier they were that Hawkmoth had already used up his akumitization of the day.

“Can’t believe that he did this to stop me from retiring -- actually, no, I can believe it,” muttered Carapace. “I shouldn’t have told him I was thinking about leaving for college. Should’ve just applied, made a public statement, and then dropped the bracelet on his doorstep… damn him...”

Rena laughed bitterly. “‘Damn him’ is right. Really, though, I should’ve known he was fucked from the start. Who the hell goes up to someone and says ‘I have been looking for a person like you for a while now’?”

“You punched him, right?” Said Chloe with a frown.

“Obviously. I punched him and ran. Went the wrong way, though, and ended up cornered in an alley.”

“You definitely should’ve been wary of him after that one,” agreed Ladybug. “If he had done that to me I wouldn’t have trusted anything he tried to put on my neck even if I saw a God coming out of it... maybe I would’ve trusted him less if that happened, actually.”

“Things have gone downhill since I was recruited, apparently.” Chat said with a weak grin, and Ladybug nodded her agreement. “I had to save him from getting run over. Which was stupid, might I add. What if I hadn’t looked up in time? Did he have a backup plan or was he just going to let himself get hit if I didn’t notice?”

“Wait, go back. You had to save him from a car?” Said Chloe. “I had to pick up his cane for him! Where was my super cool trial?”

“I think I can answer both of you guys’ questions…”

Everyone looked at Carapace, but he was determinedly looking at his phone.

“Well, for one, no, he did not have a backup plan.”

Rena’s hand flew to her mouth. “You let him get hit?!”

Carapace winced. “Okay, wait, hold up. I did not ‘let him get hit’. I just… didn’t notice that he was in danger until he was hit, there’s a difference.”

Ladybug and Chat looked at each other and their eyes widened as they realized something at the same time.

“Oh my kwami, are you the reason he has to use a cane?”

He didn’t seem to hear this, apparently very interested in something on his phone.

“Are you the reason he has to use a cane?” Chat repeated.

Still nothing.

“Carapace… Carapace… please tell me you’re not the reason,” said Ladybug. Her voice wobbled with either laughter or tears, Chat wasn’t sure.

Apparently their friend had gone deaf without them noticing.

Chloe’s eyes were alight with what was definitely laughter. “Your first day was even worse than mine!”

“PLEASE,” said the no longer deaf Carapace. He briefly set his phone down to count off on his fingers: “Let’s see… revealed your identity, covered half the city with honey, nearly crashed a train, got akumatized --.”

He never got to finish, because Chloe had thrown herself at him and started trying to smother him with a pillow.

“That’s a throw pillow, Chlo, you’re supposed to throw them,” supplied Rena.

He tried to yell something through the pillow, probably ‘traitor’, but it sounded like “Huhu!”

Chat smiled and walked over to Carapace’s fallen phone and started recording.

~

There was no context for the video that showed up on Carapace’s account that night.

All the people of Paris got was a video of Chloe and Carapace rolling around on the floor, laughing as they took part in what was essentially a pillow fight at that point.

Rena was in the background. She was goading them on, yelling encouragement for whoever she wanted and switching sides at the drop of a hat.

Ladybug was also there, her lips pressed together thinly in an attempt to hide a smile as she made eye contact with the camera and gave an eyeroll.

Chat’s laughter, which had been a soft but constant sound throughout the video, picked up briefly at the eyeroll.

The video cut.

~

Despite his exhaustion, he hadn’t been able to sleep. So, at four in the morning, he shuffled downstairs with a blanket wrapped around himself.

He started towards the kitchen for something to eat, only to stop cold when he heard a quiet scraping sound from inside.

The lights were still off in the kitchen… and everyone should have been asleep or out on patrols...

Many thoughts ran through his head. Hawkmoth could be back. Robbers could be in the house.

He pulled out his phone and transformed. If it was people robbing the place he’d need proof for the police, and if it was Hawkmoth Rena would kill him if he didn’t get a picture (if Hawkmoth didn’t kill him first, of course).

He started recording and then walked to the door, flicking the light on.

Ladybug was sitting on the counter in a Totoro onesie, eating mac and cheese straight from the pot.

He relaxed and let his phone arm fall limply to his side. “Oh, it’s just you.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I was hungry.”

“I can see that.” He realized something as she pulled more food to her mouth and he squinted just to make sure. “Is that… is that brown?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Put coffee in it.”

He was tempted to try and clean out his ears, because there was no way she should have been able to say that so nonchalantly.

“WHY?!”

“Wanted to see if it tasted better.”

He stared at her, trying to gauge if she was messing with him… and then, because he simply had to know, he asked: “And… and does it?”

She looked down at the abomination she had created sadly.

“No.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali

[depressedhatakekakashi]

The u know whos have been harassing me all day can i please request some more HC for both your knight and skill reversal AUs regarding how kakagai reationship grows to forget about them? Thank you mun 🤍

Why are they harrassing you? Who do I have to fight? i will fight them all omg. LEAVE THIS POOR PERSON ALONE YOU JERKS.

Royalty Au

Kakashi and Gai have known each other since childhood. It’s an outcome of Kakashi’s father, Sakumo, being the royal guard to King Dai. That plus Sakumo being an only father since his wife's death, and he finds himself having to have Kakashi by his side a lot growing up. He could get someone to take care of his son, but Kakashi keeps running them into the ground and scaring them off.

Thankfully, the king is very understanding and loves that his son has someone else to play with.  Most people who interact with Gai treat him like a porceline. Like they have to be super careful around him or he might shatter. Kakashi doesn’t do that. He respects Gai of course. Calls him ‘your highness’ and always bows when they greet each other or say goodbye, but otherwise, he considers Gai his friend. They run around the garden together, learn together, play together. Everything that Gai does, Kakashi does with him. Sometimes Kakashi will even be able to help Gai with his learning, being a quick learner himself who can explain things better for Gai than his tutor.

As they grow up, they continue to hang out. Even when Kakashi starts to train under Lady Kushina as a page at the age of 7, Kakashi will often use his time off from training to spend with Gai.

Gai is the first person Kakashi ever tells of his dream to become a great knight. Not just like his father, but even better. He wants to prove that he’s talented and smart and that he can protect the Kingdom and the Prince from anything and anyone. Gai feels a little sad that day, even though he loves the excitement in Kakashi’s voice when he hears about his dream. But knowing that Kakashi is going to put himself into a job that could get him killed young, all to try to prove himself. that hurts Gai’s heart.

When Kakashi is promoted to Squire at the age of 11, it’s a huge celebration. People are amazed by this kid's progress. the standard age for becoming a squire is 15, and Kakashi’s already well on his way to becoming the youngest knight in history. Even with his extra duties though, he makes sure to always visit Gai in the garden at least twice a week. They still have race’s around the place, and sometimes Kakashi will show Gai how to sword fight. Gai does get lessons from a tutor of course, but he finds that he learns easier from Kakashi. Kakashi just has a way of talking to him that helps him understand quicker. Plus Kakashi always lets him make things into a competition, which helps a lot with getting him pumped and ready to learn. 

When Kakashi is knighted at the age of 16, Gai’s not sure how to feel. He’s excited for his old friend of course. This was part of Kakashi’s dream. He’s already making a name for himself separate from his father. But at the same time, Gai’s terrified that this means he won’t have any time with Kakashi anymore. Kakashi will be too busy to visit him, and he’ll be alone with no one to hang out with but the people who treat him like porcelain.

Of course, Dai won’t have that. Kakashi is immediately made Gai’s royal guard. Partially to keep him out of the field where he might find nothing but a young death, and partially to keep Kakashi and Gai close. He knows how important the two are to each other already, and he refuses to be the one to tear them away from each other.

When it comes to marriage at the age of 20, Gai is not excited. He can’t think of anyone he wants to marry, and he always finds problems with the people that he is presented with. Genma is too pessemistic, Obito is too... well, Obito. Him and Kisame just want to rip each others throats out most of the time, and while he gets along fine with Rin the two of them both agree they’d prefer to be friends.

It’s not until someone mentions to Kakashi that he should also be looking to settle down that Gai realizes why he can’t choose a marriage partner.

He doesn’t want anyone else. He wants to be with Kakashi. To have Kakashi by his side, not just as his knight, but as his partner. 

He knows it’s not conventional. Most people marry royalty from other lands to strengthen treaties or secure partnerships. But his father never married. He found other ways to do those things, so surely Gai can too. Right?

He’s afraid to bring it up to his father. Terrified that he’ll be rejected. But when he finally does, Dai just laughs and tells his son that it’s about time. That he just needed to tell him what it was he wanted, and he would make it happen for him.

Gai and Kakashi don’t get married right away. Neither of them is in a rush.

But when they do it’s a big event, and Kakashi is not pleased about this fact.

Both of their fathers are standing by their side, proud that their sons have found each other and can be together. That they know who’s side they belong at. Kakashi can’t imagine Anyone else protecting Gai, and Gai wouldn’t have anyone else standing beside him as his husband or as his royal guard.

Kakashi’s position does not change at all. There are people of course who are adamant that the King's husband cannot be his royal guard. that the position is too dangerous. 

But Dai knows that neither of the boys are going to let anyone else take Kakashi’s position, and he’s alright with that. Kakashi has always been the one to protect Gai, and he always will be. 

Skill Swap Au

Kakashi and Gai still meet outside of the academy, but it’s Kakashi who has been turned away. Denied entry because of his lack of skill in Ninjitsu or Genjutsu. Gai feels bad for the other boy. He looks so sad standing there by his father's side, the White fangs side, knowing that he can’t get into the academy because he has been deemed ‘not good enough

Seeing something in Kakashi that no one else did, Gai decides to challenge him to a spar. It takes a few attempts, and Kakashi gets annoyed really easily at his challenges and tries to remind him that he’s just going to lose to ‘the genius’, but finally Kakashi caves.

And Kakashi loses, badly. But when he crawls to his feet and stuffs his hands into his pockets determined to leave, Gai stops him and tells him that they should spare again.

And he doesn’t stop challenging Kakashi. No matter how many times Kakashi wants to give up. No matter how often the two of them hear that Gai’s ‘wasting his time with a failure’. Gai never gives up on Kakashi.

He knows what Kakashi could be capable of. He has seen his own father train her to be strong, and he has seen Kakashi training on his own. Kakashi is not a quitter. He works his butt off and always comes home bruised and tired from his efforts. Gai knows if they just keep at it, that Kakashi can become strong.

Ultimately, with Gai’s help and a lot of perseverance, Kakashi finally makes it into the academy. It’s a moment of celebration for them both and Gai can’t stop congratulating Kakashi.

Halfway through the year, Sakumo’s mission goes terribly wrong, and suddenly ‘the white fang’ is a name no longer spoken with pride. It’s a name that people spit venom at. And that loss in pride hits Kakashi hard. After Sakumo’s death, Kakashi disappears from the academy.

Gai’s terrified that Kakashi has given up. That he’s just going to let those hateful people’s words win and stop trying to become a great shinobi.

He’s wrong. Oh so wrong. Kakashi’s more determined than ever to prove himself. to show the village that he can be a great Ninja no matter what they say. Every day from dawn to dusk Kakashi trains endlessly. Pushing himself to near collapse just to get stronger. 

It’s at this point, after finding Kakashi unconscious in a field after a long day of training, that Dai decides to show him the eight gates.

Having Kakashi around the house a lot more is pretty weird, but Gai also really enjoys it. Kakashi’s not always the friendliest person, but he’s always helping out around the house with chores. 

Gai graduated from the academy at the age of five, setting the record for the youngest shinobi to become a genin ever. Choza Sensei decides when he’s six to have him compete in the chunin exams, and he is promoted before any of his classmates even make genin.

Kakashi graduated at the age of seven, which is still really impressive given the fact that people have always said he would never amount to anything. 

Gai gets placed on team choza with Ebisu and Genma, while Kakashi gets placed on Team Minato with Obito and Rin. Kakashi’s still very ‘by the rules’ because of his father, but rather than fighting with Obito over who’s stronger, Kakashi and Obito get along a bit better.

By the time they’re 11, Kakashi has actually managed to beat Gai in a fight. It’s no surprise to Gai when he becomes a chunin along with the others, even as Gai is promoted to Jonin ahead of them. 

Team Minato still gets the Kannabi bridge mission, but they’re given another Jonin to lead the mission while Minato takes care of his part of it. When Rin is kidnapped, Obito convinces Kakashi to go with him to get her even though they’re going directly against Jonin’s orders. 

Kakashi still loses his eye protecting Obito, Obito still awakens his sharing, and then Obito ‘dies’ saving Kakashi from being crushed by a bolder.

Kakashi is blamed for the mission going wrong when they get back to Konoha, but instead of allowing it to eat at him, he decides to keep training. To become stronger and show the village that he’s not the failure they think he is.

Gai is determined to help him in this mission and starts making their competitions into training sessions together. 

Whenever someone gets rude with Kakashi or blames him for Obito’s death, they usually find themselves meeting the end of Gai’s foot. Kakashi may not be willing to stand up to them, but Gai is more than happy to do it for them.

Rin doesn’t die in this au because of Kakashi. Instead, recognizing that she has no other way out, she uses Kakashi’s distraction while fighting the enemy shinobi to take her own life. 

Obito’s still mad at Kakashi for not being able to save her, and Kakashi still see’s her blood on his hands in his nightmares. But that’s because he actually held her body while she bled out. 

Recognizing his student’s strength and hurt, Minato decides to shove Kakashi into Anbu. Something that’s frowned upon by many until Kakashi starts going out onto missions. They’re surprised by his sheer strength and ability in the field. 

When Minato dies against the Kyuubi, Kakashi sinks deeper into depression and tries to push everyone away, including Gai.

Of course, Gai doesn’t allow this. He refuses to let Kakashi suffer alone and always tries to keep up with their competition and spars.

When he realizes just how bad Anbu is affecting Kakashi’s mental health, Gai decides to try and join so that he can be with him. But he’s turned away because of his personality (just like in Canon)

So instead, he decides to get Kakashi out.

Kakashi’s not too happy to be made a join sensei after being shoved out of Anbu, but he takes it as punishment for not being able to help Itachi avoid the massacre route that he chose to take (in Kakashi’s eye since he doesn’t know the truth at this point)

Over the years, Kakashi has grown a lot as a shinobi. Even Itachi was surprised to see just how strong Kakashi was with just Taijutsu and did a lot of training with him to improve his own Taijutsu. 

Come the Chunin exams with Team seven and Team Gai, Neji, Lee, and Tenten are unsurprised to find that Team Seven is extremely skilled in Taijutsu. Kakashi has taught them well, and these three are ready to take names and kick butt. 

Sasuke still loses in his fight against Lee, but Lee’s proud to say that he was taught Taijutsu from their sensei (taught first by Gai, and then improved upon by Kakashi) and that they’re surely going to get stronger with more time under him.

The month that Kakashi spends training up Sasuke’s taijutsu is possibly the worst month of Sasuke’s life. He’s introduced to Kakashi’s personal training methods and it is not fun. Not one bit. 

And after the chunin exams, while the village is trying to repair itself from the Konoha crush and settle into some sense of nromality, Itachi and Kisame show up. This time, it’s Gai who faces down Itachi and ends up in a 72 hour genjutsu. Itachi knows better than to allow the genius time to come up with a plan. But then just as Kisame is about to swoop in and finish Gai, Kakashi shows up and kicks him away. A genius and the best taijutsu master of Konoha? Itachi is out. This is not worth the hassle. 

Sasuke finds out about Itachi's appearance in the village while Kakashi, Kurenai and Asuma are watching over Gai while he's resting from Itachi's attack. Kakashi of course goes after his student

Kakashi also gets to the the 'dynamic entry' against Jiraiya, kicking him in the face and away from his students. He recognizes Jiraiya of course, but damn he'd be lying if he said that didn't feel good.

[backtothestart02]

Hazy - 8/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: And the drama continues...

Commissioned by @andie1223

...

Chapter 8 -

While Linda embarked on her apparent genius mission to free Barry from the hospital walls – or at the very least keeping him from confessing any sort of atrocity that could end him in serious trouble if he was wrong – Barry took some time to dwell on his situation, the lighter aspect of it at least, mainly Linda.

He was grateful for how giving she was being in this particular matter. It was different in this timeline because she didn’t have feelings for him. He didn’t feel like he was betraying her by actively pursuing Iris at the same time he was “with” her. She wanted Scott, which amused him to no end but also made him unspeakably happy because that meant the editor would never have a chance with Iris. Not even one date. He was sure Scott was bitter about that.

Linda was so easy. And in the best way. She wasn’t complicated. She didn’t overthink. She accepted people as they were. And she loved herself shamelessly, yet not in a way that was selfish. She was fun and pretty and everything you could ask for in a girlfriend. But, and this was always it for him, she wasn’t Iris.

Things had never been so complicated with Iris. Not even in his original timeline. Barry felt like he was in a soap opera that wouldn’t end. At every turn there was more drama, some that was sparked by him and some that wasn’t. He didn’t know how to make it stop, and he was growing weary of trying. It exhausted him.

All he knew was that he wanted Iris any way he could get her. If that meant pursuing an affair, so be it. If he was stuck in this timeline indefinitely, he wasn’t going to live the rest of his ordinary Flash-less life without her as his romantic partner. It just wasn’t happening.

Convincing her to divorce Eddie was a huge hurtle that would take a long time to overcome, but as long as he could capture her for stolen moments, that would be enough for now.

Iris was extremely loyal though. He knew now the fantasy that had unraveled before him while he stood in her doorway would never have been a reality. Not yet at least. Her restraint was too high, and she was too far in denial to believe she could have feelings for someone that wasn’t her husband.

It had been hard enough to convince her she had feelings for him when Eddie was just her boyfriend, but now as her husband… He had ultimate control. Barry wondered how far that went.

“Knock, knock,” a deep voice sounded as the being belonging to the voice walked in and shut the door behind him.

Barry felt chilled to the bone as he locked eyes with the blonde, blue-eyed detective at the center of his thoughts. He couldn’t even summon the courage to say his name. He just stared, waiting for whatever horror Eddie would bring down on him.

Eddie’s eyes traced over Barry’s injured figure before meeting his eyes again.

“You look like shit.”

Barry swallowed. Eddie’s eyes narrowed.

“I know what you’re thinking. That it was me who did this to you. That I was in such a rage over seeing you and Iris together at the gala that I beat the crap out of you until you wound up in the hospital.”

Eddie took a seat on the far side of the room.

“Well?” Barry finally mustered. “Didn’t you?”

“I’ve thought about it a time or two, I’ll give you that. Beating you up until you’re near paralyzed, teaching you a lesson to never come near Iris again.”

“Nothing happened.”

“I know that too. Iris told me. At first I thought she’d called you to take her since I wasn’t…available.”

“You’re a shit husband, Eddie.”

Eddie’s hands clenched at his sides.

“Iris is devoted to you, and yet still you treat her as if she’s cheating. All she wants is to openly be friends with me again. Is that so much to ask?”

“Do you regret kissing her at our wedding reception?”

Barry hesitated. “That feels like a lifetime ago, Eddie.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Barry debated between lying to his face to save his relationship with Iris and saying the God’s honest truth just so he could breathe again. The truth was he didn’t remember kissing Iris at the reception, because he hadn’t been in this timeline for that. The memory for it hadn’t even surfaced for him. Not yet at least, which gave him a small ray of hope. Maybe there was still time to get back to where he belonged.

“I shouldn’t have waited so long,” he said at last. That was a truth he could always say wholeheartedly.

“Why you little-” He rose up from his seat and strode across the room.

“What I mean is…before she met you,” he was quick to say, not wanting to get pummeled some more. “I’ve been in love with her since I met her. I had plenty of time to tell her, and I didn’t. I should’ve told her before.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, apparently not knowing how to take that.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t, because she’s my wife now, not yours.”

Yeah, I know. Not my fiancée either, he thought glumly. But his eyes were wide open, not daring to look away from the madman unraveling before him.

“She was never anything but my best friend,” Barry said.

“And now she’s not even that,” Eddie said. “Got it?”

Barry’s brows narrowed.

“You’re not just hurting me by keeping us apart. You’re hurting her too.”

“She’ll get over it.”

“After a year? Come on, Eddie. We’ve known each other since we were 10!”

“This is not why I came down here.”

Barry shook his head in disbelief.

“Then why did you?”

Eddie wrapped his hand around one of the metal bars on the bed.

“To make sure you don’t blame this incident on me. I’m not losing my job over you. I’m not losing Iris over a false confession.”

“Who else could’ve done it?” Barry spat. “You punched me, Eddie. Multiple times. I blacked out. When I came to I was in the hospital.”

“That’s not because of me. I didn’t even know you blacked out. When I left you, you were still groaning on the floor. I figured you’d get up after a few minutes and go home. Besides, I had to deal with Iris.”

“And how exactly did you ‘deal with’ Iris, Eddie?” Barry’s brows narrowed. He had to fight from digging his nails into the bedsheet.

“I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“Then set me straight. Tell me you didn’t hit her.”

Eddie’s eyes widened in horror. He took a step back.

“I would never.”

“The Eddie I thought I knew wouldn’t throw more than one punch, and yet you threw several.”

“Barry, I swear to God, I didn’t come back later and beat the living daylights out of you. Iris snuck down after we’d gone to bed to see if you were gone, and when she found you barely breathing, I was the one who called 9-1-1. If I wanted you dead, I would’ve buried the evidence, not left you…half-alive just outside our loft.”

Barry hated it, but he found himself believing Eddie.

“So, who did it then?”

Before Eddie could answer, the doctor strode in, Linda quick at his heels, trying to flirt but failing to thwart the doctor from his mission.

“Barry! You’re up!” The doctor smiled proudly. “You should keep a watch on your girlfriend here. She’s trying to sweep me off my feet!”

Linda laughed nervously.

“I’m sure she was just being nice.” Barry sent her a look.

“Wait. Girlfriend?” Eddie looked between Barry and Linda. “I thought-”

“Are you ready to tell me what you remember, if anything?” The doctor interrupted.

Before Barry could answer, Iris and Joe barged through the door.

“Eddie!” said a scandalized Iris.

“Barry!” said a relieved Joe, who then glared at his daughter. “I told you he couldn’t always be sleeping, Iris.”

Iris swallowed hard.

“Barry?” The doctor asked again.

“Uh…yes, I’m ready.”

“Great. Go ahead then.” He pulled out his no pad and clicked his pen so he could write. “For the record.”

Barry looked around the room at all the expectant faces.

“If you guys wouldn’t mind?”

For a moment, none of them moved, and then with one big sweep from Joe they started to exit the room.

“Linda,” Barry called out to her. She turned around. “Can you stay?”

Joe seemed somewhat wounded by his preference, but Iris tugged her dad with her.

“Yes, of course,” Linda said, coming over to his side and taking a seat to hold his hand. “I’m nothing if not a supportive girlfriend.”

The last thing Barry saw out of the corner of his eye was Iris watching with curiosity as he lifted Linda’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

…

Once everyone else was gone and the door shut, the doctor looked at Barry expectantly.

“Well, son, what do you remember, if anything?”

“I remember…”

Linda squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, but he didn’t catch her gaze and completely missed her intention.

“Doctor,” she interrupted. “How important is it for Barry to remember something?”

“Well, very if you’d like the attacker caught and charges brought against him.”

Barry sent her a look, which she ignored.

“And how often does that happen even with the right information?”

“Linda.”

“What, Barry? I’m a reporter. Let me do my job.”

The doctor was clearly amused.

“I take back what I said earlier, Barry. This one is clearly a keeper.”

Barry smiled despite himself. Linda beamed.

“The truth of the matter is, dear, I have to put something down to send over and add to the police report or the police themselves will come in and ask.”

“Do they really make that a top priority though?” Linda interjected again.

“Linda!”

The doctor waited for the mini-squabble to subside before continuing.

“Your girlfriend is right, Barry. The chances of this being at the top of the list are slim. In fact, the only way it would make it to the top I’d say is if you were accusing one of their own.”

Linda’s eyes widened, and she shot that gaze right at Barry.

“Are you?” the doctor asked.

“No,” Barry said instinctively. “I thought…no.” He shook his head.

“What did you think, son?”

“Tell him, Barry,” Linda urged.

“I was jumped,” he said. “I remember that.” The doctor started taking notes.

“Do you know by who?”

Barry shook his head, and Linda held in a silent sigh of relief. He could feel that through the loosening of her grip on him.

“They sounded like someone I know, but I…I just can’t place it now. I’m sorry.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t see who it was, you only heard them?”

Barry nodded. “Yes.”

“What else do you remember? Anything? Where were you at the time? Outside the West-Thawne residence, correct?”

Barry tensed, and Linda smoothed her hand over his, so he’d relax.

“Yes,” he made himself say.

“And why were you there?”

“To drop Iris off.”

“That’s Mrs. West-Thawne?”

Barry told himself to breathe silently.

“Yes.”

“The two of you are close?”

“We grew up together.” He paused, then decided to expound upon recent details. “We bumped into each other at a gala, and I didn’t want her walking home alone, so I offered to escort her and she agreed.”

“Sounds like you’re a good guy to have around, Barry. If not for your presence, the attacker might’ve gone after Iris.”

The idea of Eddie treating Iris the way he’d treated him made Barry feel sick to his stomach.

“I’m very glad she’s okay.”

“Does her husband like you?”

“Excuse me,” Linda butt in. “How is that relevant?”

“Just a question,” the doctor explained innocently, then turned to Barry.

“We tolerate each other,” Barry said. “He’s very…possessive of his wife.”

The doctor eyed him carefully.

“You say the voice was familiar to you, but you can’t pinpoint exactly who it was.”

Barry nodded, avoiding eye contact now.

“That’s right.”

“Anything else?” Linda was quick to ask. “I think we’ve established Barry does and does not know, and he does not know who attacked him.”

The doctor’s lips thinned in a humorless smile.

“You are quite right, dear. And persistent.”

Linda smiled proudly right back at him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“As you should.”

With the tension in the room rising, Barry was eager to dissipate it. The last thing he needed was a full-out brawl between Linda and his doctor.

“Of course it is up to you in the end if you want to file any charges,” he said, looking at Barry.

Barry forced an acknowledging smile.

“I just know I would…in case it happens again.”

Barry’s eyes widened, and Linda’s jaw dropped.

“Are you threatening him?!” Linda asked, outraged. She stood up.

The doctor held up his hands defensively.

“Not in the slightest. Sometimes attackers come back to-”

“Finish the job?”

They all turned to see Iris in the doorway.

“Iris.” Barry frowned. “What are you-”

“Mrs. West-Thawne, your friend here requested your absence during his-”

“Interrogation?”

He sighed. “I was hardly interrogatin-”

“Yeah, more like threatened,” Linda muttered.

Iris’ eyes went wide. “What?!”

The doctor waited a few beats then said, “I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He looked at Barry. “I’ll be in tomorrow morning to check in on you. Hopefully we can get you in some protective wear and home soon. The nurses will probably stop by every couple hours.”

“That sounds good. Thank you, doctor.”

The doctor nodded his appreciation, then exited the room, not so much as chancing a glance at the two women on either side of Barry who were glaring at him.

“You have a terrible doctor.” Iris continued to glare.

“You’re telling me,” Linda practically growled.

“He’s just doing his job,” Barry offered pathetically.

“Thank you for being here for him,” Iris told Linda. “I really appreciate it.”

“Well, someone had to be,” Linda practically barked, and Barry felt the tension go through the roof.

“What’s that supposed to me-” Iris started, but Barry cut her off.

“Iris, could you get Joe for me? I’d like to see him now that I’ve finished talking with the doctor.”

Iris bristled. “Well, yes, of course. But…about that-”

“Please?” He cut her off again. This time there was a hint of snark in his voice.

With Linda in his corner, he felt more secure.

Iris swallowed.

“Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll go get him.”

She turned to leave, then stopped at the door.

“I’ll come visit you tomorrow, Barry.”

If Eddie lets you, he almost said aloud, but he kept his mouth shut.

“No need,” Linda spoke up for him. “The doctor said he should be getting out tomorrow. He’ll probably need all the rest he can get.”

“R-Right. Well… I’ll get my dad.”

She turned away, and Barry heard the hitch. She was near tears if not already crying. He glared at Linda after Iris left.

“What?” she demanded. “She deserved it.”

“She did not deserve to cry.”

“It means she’s feeling guilty, and she should. If she’s determined to visit you other than to find out what you told the doctor, I’ll be surprised. Just…relax. Your number one priority doesn’t always have to be Iris. Especially with the way she’s been treating you recently.”

“It’s Eddie that’s the problem, not-”

“And yet you protected him.”

“I protected Iris.”

“Wait a minute, you don’t think he’s hurting her, do you?”

“I don’t know. He told me he didn’t come back later to beat me up, and Iris doesn’t have a scratch on her, but-”

“You have a bad feeling.”

He shrugged helplessly.

“Are your feelings usually right?”

Barry looked down before meeting her gaze again.

“Lately they’ve been all over the place.”

Relief colored her face.

“Then let’s hope this is one of those times where you’re wrong.”

She squeezed his hand.

“I’m sure the only thing escalating in that household is their voices. Let me go get you some water. I’ll hand it to Joe when he’s on his way in.”

Barry nodded hesitantly.

“Okay. Thanks, Linda.”

“What are fake girlfriends for?” She chuckled, and he felt his mood lighten.

It didn’t last. The door closed, and he was plunged into his dark thoughts again.

Eddie wouldn’t hurt Iris… Would he?

...

*will be posted on AO3 and FFnet when beta’d.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 8: The Light]

Hi y’all! Thank you so much for reading and supporting my writing. Each and every message/reblog/comment/etc makes me smile, and it’s a dream come true to get to share my work with you! 💜

Chapter summary: John shares a secret; Y/N excels at Scrabble; Brian makes peace; Roger suffers a misstep.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, medical stuff, pregnancy (not who you think!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @bookandband​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

Medicine teaches you to be fiercely skeptical of things that seem too good to be true. Bodies fail—completely and inevitably, though the timing may differ—and patients lie. Medical records don’t, fingerprints don’t, track marks up the underside of an arm don’t, blood and paternity tests don’t, oftentimes the eyes don’t; but given half a chance, people will lie themselves right into the grave.

Those bruises, doc? Got ‘em from a nasty fall down the stairs. I’m lucky I didn’t break my neck!

Nope, never done drugs, not even a joint, I swear on my mother’s life.

I’ll give it up, I’ll go to rehab. Never again. I promise. I don’t want to die.

Doc, I don’t care if the timing doesn’t seem quite right. My husband IS the father. There’s been no one else!

That doting fiancé is flirting with the nurses. Those grown-up children who fluff pillows and dab away tears are asking about the will. That wife is never going to testify against her abusive husband. That addict is going to relapse again...and again...and again. Are there exceptions? Of course. But if you get in the habit of trusting people—of believing all those tantalizingly attractive, hopeful lies—it’ll break your heart six ways to Sunday. There is no perfection in medicine, and there are very rarely miracles.

And so during those first few weeks with Roger—as you watch him from the reeling crowd, from the other side of the tour bus, from across the restaurant table, from the tiny viewfinder of the Canon F-1—you can’t stop searching for the cracks, the shadows, the lies, the dark malignancies breeding beneath the surface. Because everything about Roger Taylor is too good to be true. He’s bright and he’s loud and he’s brilliant and he’s always smiling, always warm. He careens backstage after every show—you keep bracing yourself not to be disappointed when the novelty wears away, when it ends, but it doesn’t—pushing aside roadies and reporters, shouting “Where’s the love of my life? Where’s my Boston babe?” with the most absurd grin you’ve ever seen until he finds you, collides with you, scoops you up and spins you in ungainly circles as your toes skim the floor. Then he cradles your face in his scarred hands and kisses you, breathes you in, tells you everything about the show (even though you were there to see it) in a rush of pure, manic adrenaline. And you stumble into some dressing room together—or a hotel room, or a taxi, or a limousine, or an elevator—and finally it’s your bare thighs his palms are gliding over, your tongue tasting the Heineken and craving on his lips, and it feels impossible for that to ever change. Roger is too good to be true, that’s undeniable; but when you watch him with those doubtful, cautious eyes, you can’t find anything but light.

He wakes up at 6 a.m. to join you on a bayou tour in New Orleans, taps his cigarette over the moss-covered sides of the boat, points out the alligators with leathered skin and ancient yellow irises lurking in the depths. He walks Fremont Street with you in Las Vegas and makes you choose his numbers for the Roulette wheel, for his fate. He snaps photos of you on a sun-drenched balcony in Miami, roaring cobalt waves crashing in the background. He takes you to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, the Art Institute of Chicago, the National Aquarium in Baltimore, the Philadelphia Zoo, Myrtle Beach and the Saint Louis Arch and the Santa Monica Pier. Because he was telling the truth when he said he could show you the world all those months ago when Queen was at Top of the Pops; he was telling you the truth about the list that’s etched into the rushing scarlet chambers of his heart.

When the American leg of the tour ends and the band gets a brief reprieve in London, you move into Roger’s paltry, disorganized flat and scrub away all the remnants of his past life: dust and empty cigarette boxes and women’s socks, ashes and copies of Vogue, a tube of lipstick that isn’t yours. You don’t complain, don’t even frown; you’re under no delusions that something eternal can be founded on resentment, on lies. And so you clear out the clutter and open the windows so sunshine and crisp spring air can breathe through the apartment, so you can both start fresh along with the bellflowers and delphiniums and roses and the tawny newborn ducklings scampering behind their mothers. You hang photos from the tour and John’s sketches on the refrigerator, place your Canon F-1 and pink conch shell from Ostia on the nightstand, litter the drawers with your own socks and makeup. You teach Roger how to sew (although he’s not much good at it) and how to treat blisters (although you’ll always be there to do it for him); and in return Roger teaches you how to trust, how to believe, how to stop searching desperately for faults in the light.  

On the second day of April, Queen boards their flight to Tokyo. Brian settles into a plushy, billowing blanket and loses himself in an astronomy magazine; he’s an engaged man now, an honest man in the eyes of society at large...and, far more importantly, his parents. Freddie pens lyrics in his notebook, humming disjointedly, napping like a cat when the mood strikes him. Roger snacks constantly and tries to get John chatting, but John is particularly subdued today, preoccupied, prone to gazing unfocusedly at the clouds that drift by outside and wringing his hands.

And you think, as you peer down into the glistening sapphire waters of the East China Sea: Brian’s a willow tree, Freddie’s a lightning storm, Roger is wildfire...but what is John?

Something deep, something beautiful and strong and constant and hidden.

The ocean, you decide as Queen’s private plane soars over the quicksilver waves that conceal the abyss. John is the ocean.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You didn’t have to stay, you know.”

John is lying on his back under a small grove of cherry blossom trees outside the hotel, sketching grey outlines of petals and arcing branches in a new notebook. He hasn’t given any sign that he heard you coming, doesn’t turn his head to see you. You freeze, startled.

“How’d you know it was me?!”

“You have very distinct footsteps. Dainty, yet purposeful.” He sets aside his notebook and sits up, crossing his long legs. “Why didn’t you go to lunch?”

“Because you didn’t. You turned down ramen, and you never turn down ramen. I was worried. Plus someone has to make sure a roving posse of screaming Japanese girls doesn’t carry you off.”

That makes him laugh. The Japanese fans are inexplicably obsessed with John; or maybe it’s not so inexplicable, maybe they just have a better eye for quiet, unassuming wonders. “Always so thoughtful.”

You sit down beside him, open a pack of chocolate-flavored Pocky and offer John a piece, frown when he lights a cigarette instead. “That’s really bad for you. Seriously. You should quit.”

“At last. One thing you and Brian agree on.” He exhales a gale of smoke and peers up at the cherry blossoms.

“John?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t break up with Veronica, did you?” Chrissie and Mary didn’t mention anything about her tearful devastation, and you suspect they would have had John gone through with it.

He sighs. “I did not.”

“And...are we feeling...okay about that...?”

He twirls the cigarette nervously between his fingers. After a silence, he surrenders. “Look, I haven’t told anybody yet, but I’d tell you first anyway. So here it goes.” He glances over at you guiltily, gloomily, wishing he could disappear. “I didn’t break up with Veronica because she’s pregnant.”

Your jaw falls open. A half-eaten stick of Pocky rolls out of your mouth and onto the grass. She’s what? She’s WHAT?

“Please don’t be disappointed,” John pleads. “I’m disappointed in myself enough for both of us, believe me.”

“I...I...I’m not disappointed, John, I’m just...” You blink at him. “Oh my god.”

He nods, acquiescent. “I’m in complete agreement.”

You shake your head, gaping at him, stunned; and suddenly you don’t like what you’re feeling at all. Because it isn’t just shock and horror, it isn’t just apprehension. You hate the thought of him touching her, of her delicate white hands on him, of innocence stripped away and memories impressed into muscle, into soul.

Because you know she’s not right for him. Because you know he doesn’t love her the way he should. Because you want the best for him and always have.

Oh, there’s a comforting rationale; but is it true?

And then: You fucking hypocrite. Since when do you get an opinion on who anyone sleeps with?

“It must have happened in January,” John says miserably. “Right before we left for the States. She didn’t want to tell me over the phone...I guess maybe she thought if she did I’d never come back. So she told me as soon as I landed in London. And here we all are.”

You stare down at your shoes, trying to compose yourself. “What are you going to do?”

“There’s only one option.”

“Actually, there are quite a few. But I know you’d never consider them.” John’s father died when he was ten, and he never talks about it; which is precisely how you know it’s a wound that can’t ever heal, a gash that goes straight down to the bone. He would never leave his child, never banish them to some dusty, repressed corner of his consciousness while he moves on with a blissfully unencumbered life. You whisper: “I’m so fucking sorry, John.”

That snaps something in him, something he was choking back. He buries his face in his hands. “What the fuck am I doing?” he moans. “I’m twenty-three years old, I’m broke, I turned down loads of jobs, good jobs, as an electrical engineer, I’ve somehow become the bassist in an increasingly famous rock band...I mean, how the hell did this happen? How did any of this happen?”

“It’ll be okay,” you insist with newfound resolve. I have to save him. I have to protect him.

John rolls those soft greyish eyes, hopeless, distraught. “Sure.”

“It will be, I promise you. The tour is going great. I had my doubts about the band when I first met you, I’ll admit it, I didn’t know if there was a future for Queen. But you’ve made me a believer. You’ve made millions of people all over the world believers. The money will keep rolling in, Queen will finally start seeing some of it, you won’t be broke forever. You’ll have two more months on the road and then we’ll be back in London, and it’ll be on to recording the next album, more shows, more money...the hard times are almost over, John. You can do this. And I’ll help you.”

His brow furrows. “You will?”

“Of course. If it’s easier for Veronica, it’ll be easier for you. So I’ll be extra friendly, take her to appointments when you’re busy, help organize the wedding, babysit the littlest Deacon whenever she needs me to. We’ll get through this. I’ll be there to help every step of the way.”

“You’re happy, aren’t you?” he asks suddenly. “You and Roger. You aren’t going anywhere.” He’s reading you closely, sifting through your words and forced smile for something deeper.

“I’m happy,” you assure him. “You don’t need to be concerned about that. I’m staying with the band, I’m staying in London. Whenever Queen is home, that is.”

He nods, but perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. He finally accepts a piece of Pocky from you and takes a bite. “Then I guess we’ll plan for a summer wedding.”

“You could do a double one with Brian and Chrissie.”

He laughs so hard he almost inhales the Pocky, then doubles over coughing. “I think Bri would rather slit his own throat, but a charming thought. Thank you for that. Bravo.”

You smile at John, genuinely this time. “You’re going to be an amazing father. I hope you aren’t worried about that part of it, at least.”

“Will you be their godparent?”

“What? Me?!”

“Yeah. Because, you know...” John averts his gaze. “You’d be the person I would want to raise them if something happened to me and Veronica. You’re the most dedicated, stubborn, capable, nurturing, remarkable person I’ve ever met. You’re my best friend. And maybe Roger’s your best friend and you’re his, and that’s all fine, that’s alright, but you’re still mine.”

“Roger is a lot of incredible things, but he’s not my best friend.” You lie flat on the grass and lace your hands behind your head, tracking the weightless snowy clouds as they float by above. When did we become adults? When did all of these rules catch up to us? “I would be honored to be your child’s godparent.”

John plops down beside you. “Don’t tell the others yet, okay? I want to wait until the tour’s over. I don’t want them to panic and think I’m leaving and try to replace me or anything.”

“They wouldn’t try to replace you, John.”

“No?” he asks doubtfully.

“No. Roger knows it, Fred knows it, I think even Bri knows it.” You reach out and weave a lock of his hair through your fingers as cherry blossom petals tumble in the breeze. “You’re irreplaceable.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Sod,” Freddie mocks. “That’s the best you could do? Really? Sod?”

Roger flings up his hands in frustration. “Freddie, I’ve got like a million Cs!”

“You could have done cod,” Brian notes, sipping a cup of hot tea. “Cods, actually.”

Roger glowers down at his Scrabble tiles. “Fuck.”

“And I’m so delighted he didn’t!” You place your tiles, expanding on sod to make rhapsody. John high-fives you and records the points in his notebook. Freddie and Brian groan in defeat.

“What the hell is a rhapsody?!” Roger snatches the Official Scrabble Dictionary off the table and flips through it.

“It’s a, like a...” Freddie waves his cigarette, scattering smoke through the air. “It’s like an epic poem. Or an opera. With lots of bizarre, different parts all pieced together.”

“That sounds made up.”

Freddie cackles. “Darling, it’s a real thing, I swear!”

Roger locates the pertinent page in the Scrabble Dictionary and his shoulders slump. “Goddammit. Fucking...too smart...nerdy...college-educated...girlfriend.” He drags you into his lap and kisses your temple. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I don’t usually tolerate being conquered like this.”

Bri smirks from behind his teacup. “I rather think you conquered her, Rog.”

“Oh, a rare good one from Bri!” Freddie trills as everyone laughs, although John soon busies himself with clearing empty bottles and cigarette butts off the table.

“Yes,” Roger agrees. “Against her superior judgment, I finally won her over. Only took eight months. Which is approximately...wait, let me count...seven and a half months longer than it has ever taken me before.”

You trace your fingertips across his stubbled cheeks, his soft lips, his little dark blond tufts of sideburns. “No one knows how to say no to you, do they?”

“It’s impossible. I’m too charming. Blindingly heroic. Perseus in the flesh.” He kisses your forehead and steadies you, his hands on your waist, as the brakes squeal and the tour bus lurches to a halt.

Freddie leaps to his feet and claps. “Alright, darlings! Off to the new digs we go. Deaky, hand me my shoes, they’re under the table...yes, right there...and toss over Brian’s hideous clogs as well.”

You help the roadies and the band drag luggage into the hotel (no small feat, as the elevator is out of order), unpack your toothbrush and hairbrush and a floral-patterned dress for dinner, giggle as you listen to Roger’s feral, raspy singing in the shower. It’s something about loving a car, how perfectly on-brand for him. Then Roger goes to fetch Freddie and John for dinner while you find Brian. Bri is collapsed on his bed in a striped t-shirt and jeans, freshly-washed and dewy, gazing up at the ceiling in a daze.

You tap gently on the doorframe. “Bri? You want to join us for dinner? There’s a sushi place a few blocks away that’s a local legend, apparently. Lots of veggie options too.”

He looks over at you. You haven’t spoken about the argument since you had it two months ago. Brian sometimes grimaces or smirks or rolls his willowy viridescent eyes, but he never says anything; not to you, and not to Roger as far as you’re aware. “I’m sorry,” he says simply. “I may have been out of line before. Incorrect, even.”

“No need to apologize, Bri. I’ve forgotten all about it.” You haven’t, but there’s no reason for Brian to know that.

“I just want what’s best for you. For you to be happy.”

“I know, Brian.” You cross the room and take his long, moon-white, artful hands in your own. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ll be in the wedding party, won’t you? I know Chris will ask.”

“Of course. And I’ll proudly wear whatever dreadfully tacky and uncomfortable bridesmaid dresses she picks out.”

“Even if they’re a frightful shimmery green?”

“Oh god.” You swallow noisily. “I’ll still do it. And then burn the photos.”

Brian chuckles as he climbs out of bed. “In a stroke of luck, I suspect she’ll ask you to take the pictures. So you can avoid being in them as much as you’d like. And conveniently lose the unflattering ones.”

You study him thoughtfully. “Are you happy, Brian?”

“I am. Chrissie’s excited, my parents are thrilled, they’ll be sitting in the front row with the proudest smiles you’ve ever seen. Next comes a proper house, and children, and all the rest of it.” But something in those mellow olivey eyes is resigned, melancholy. His words from two months ago echo in your skull: It’s necessary. It’s self-preservation. Because sometimes the people who set us on fire would burn us alive.

“Do you still think about New Orleans?” you ask softly. About the woman he’d fallen in love with there before you ever met Queen, about the utopian passion he never quite stops searching for. Everyone has demons, secrets, shadowy trenches like cracks in porcelain; you’ve learned all about Brian’s. What about Roger’s? What about mine?

He shrugs, staring out the window at the dusky skyline of Yokohama. “Maybe I’ll always think about New Orleans. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to grow up and start taking responsibility.”

“Responsibility,” you reply cynically, before you can stop yourself. “Is that all love is about anymore?”

“Not for you. Not for Roger. You both want your freedom, your adventure, your true and uncomplicated love. And you’ll get to keep it.”

For now. But you don’t say that. Instead, you smile appeasingly and gesture for Brian to follow you out into the hallway.

The others are waiting by the door to the stairwell: John in a smart grey suit, Freddie in his black-and-yellow jacket, Roger in sunglasses and a ridiculous leopard-print vest he’d dug out of a trashcan somewhere and precariously tall boots.

“At last, Nurse Nightingale and my darling Brian!” Freddie chirps. “Come on, I’m positively famished, and also I’ve bet five pounds that I can consume more sake shots than Roger and I could really use the dough.”

Roger pushes through the door, leading the way. “Prepare to lose!”

“Roger, please,” you implore. “New livers don’t grow on trees, and I can’t give you half of mine. I’m the wrong blood type.”

Roger laughs as he bounds down the steps, then whirls to grin up at you as he walks backwards. “Relax, Deaks will share! You’re type A, aren’t you John—?”

Roger’s heel slips and he plummets down the flight of stairs. He tumbles as the four of you shriek in horror and bolt after him, slams into the wall of the landing, ricochets off of it and plunges down the next flight as well. There’s blood, you think frenziedly as you descend, screaming Roger’s name. There’s blood all over the steps.

Roger, crumpled on the maroon-streaked landing, slowly unravels and groans. He glances down, appraises himself, then hammers his left fist against the concrete wall of the stairwell, roaring in raw agony and rage. “No no no no no no!”

“Roger—!”

And then you see it.

Roger’s right arm hangs uselessly, unnaturally, his snapped radius bloody and splitting through the skin.

[fatbottombucky]

What’s The Diagnostic? They’re Obliviously In Love |StevexBucky|

Summary:Avengers Assemble Hospital is a non-profit hospital. It's also a teaching hospital to Interns and Students. Some of the best minds work, teach, and learn at the hospital. Dr Rogers and Dr Barnes have been friends through thick and thin, both meeting in Med School- when Steve used to get into fights with more students than he'd ever admitted.  They're both about to relive Steve's first marriage as his first-wife is back, she wants to try again and Steve thinks this is it for him; he's an almost 40yr old-man, who doesn't get out much. Whilst Steve is dealing with his past, James, is dealing with the Chairman of The Board, Mr Rumlow, who hates him. A personal vendetta is what Rumlow has, James can't figure out why. Rumlow also has a keen interest in Steve, as if Steve needs more attention- this angers Barnes more.  Their co-workers have a bet going on. Their long time patients are trying to set them up. Rogers and Barnes are helpless and oblivious...They're also RoomMates. 

±Inspired by House MD; House and Wilson's relationship/ Diagnostic job is used for Bucky±

Ratings: (+18) Explicit Content

Warnings: SLOW BURN!!!! Will be displayed here when appropriate

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Notes:  Each chapter is titled as 'Episodes', to clarify, if three chapters are titled "Episode One" that means those three chapters exist within the same time frame (AKA those chapters happen over a singular day or span over a week).

Episode One- The Deduction of Steve Rogers

11:00 am Wreck Room

"Have you told him?" Steve looks up from the staff's coffee machine to see Natasha, she's leaning against the table with her arms crossed. She's still dressed in her scrubs, despite being in surgery for plus five hours she still looks immaculate and beautiful. "He's going to find out soon, ya know? He's the master at deducing, heck, that's his entire job. There's no problem or puzzle that he can't solve."

Steve sighed, stirring the milk into the coffee for a second longer than necessary. "He's got a case right now. I have about," Steve looks at the clock on the wall and back to Natasha, "three more hours to think of how to break the news." He gives a little sigh and shakes his head, "I don't know why he'd be mad, she messaged me and I haven't even replied back, yet."

"You know how he gets," She shrugs, red hair pulled into a tight bun that she is currently taking down. "He's going to be figuring out why you haven't replied, he'll go into some in-depth explanation that'll explain why you didn't tell him straight away either- leading all towards the fact you want to message her."

Steve shakes his head, rolling his blue eyes as he taps the spoon three times against the rim of his mug before taking a thoughtful sip of his drink.

"Don't need to tell him now," giving her a pointed look, "you've been hanging around his office too much, Romanoff."

Natasha shrugs one shoulder, "I've been looking out for his newest intern, Parker. Stark wanted to make sure that Barnes didn't fire him within the first week, despite the demeaning comments the kid seems to be holding himself well."

Steve nodded and hears his phone beep, he checks and sees it's his ex-wife, his first ex-wife. Peggy Carter, his first real and true love, she's the one that pushed him into this job and supported him through his last year at Med School. He, honestly, thought she was it for him. They'd have a couple of kids together, work their respected jobs and raise a beautiful, happy family and grow old. But that didn't happen. In fact, on their second wedding anniversary, he was given divorce papers- by her lawyer, Edwin Jarvis.

Didn't see it coming. Sure, they had arguments like normal couples. Steve was dedicated to his job, he has to be because he's the Oncologist. There are people that are relying on him to form a good treatment plan; something that'll give them more time or help them beat their cancer. He never neglected his husband duties, he never neglected her and he never got a definitive answer to their divorce. What he does know is that James Barnes, his best friend, resents the woman and practically got Steve back on his feet after the divorce was finalised.

"You still not gonna answer her?"

'We need to talk, Steven.' Is the latest text that was sent to his phone, maybe they do need to talk, it'll get him some closure but he can't face her right now.

"I'm too busy, right now." He sighed and slipped the phone back into his pant pocket, "I've got to go over the recent funding for my department, Fury wants all documented and flies perfect for the Chairman that's coming this week. Meaning," he sighed and slipped his eyes to Natasha as he walks to the door, "I've gotta somehow get Barnes to do his own reports... or do them myself. He's also gotta do his six hours of clinic duty, but I might be going for overkill."

Steve walks out of the room, mug still in hand and turning, almost spilling the contents of his mug over the small intern. Parker is pushing a stretcher with Wanda on the other side, to save the coffee he holds it up and out of their way.

"Sorry, Dr Rogers, heading to surgery!" Wanda yells over her shoulder, blood splattered over her clothes.

Steve is almost tempted to follow, clearly, the Diagnostics Teams case is more complicated than they thought and James hadn't solved it just yet.

Meaning Steve had a couple of hours to get his work done before James starts snooping into his life, as normal. He has a few hours to reflect and act normal as if nothing has happened and therefore meaning his friend won't realise anything has happened.

1:34 pm Cafeteria

A body slides up beside Steve, plopping a Red Bull and a bowl of fries, plus a packet of Doritos onto his tray. Steve doesn't have to look to know it's James, but he looks anyway to see the usual neutral face of his friend. Steely eyes are looking back at him, there's a slight ghost of a smirk on his lips because he knows that Steve will complain... but pay for his lunch anyway.

"I'm adding all these lunches up, by the way. Giving you the bill at Christmas." Is all Steve mutters to him, standing in line behind a few clinic nurses; that are chatting amongst themselves.

James rolls his eyes, "My guy needs a Craniotomy," Completely changing the subject altogether, "can you get Wilson to do it?" Steve furrows his eyebrows and looks at him, crossing his arms over his chest when he faces him, shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms and a couple of pens in his shirt pocket. "He always puts me around the ringer, he'll say yes without question if you ask."

"I'm not asking Sam, if you need that surgery then you ask." Voice stern as he turns back and pulls out his wallet, nodding at the cashier, "for both," he mutters before handing over the money. James picks up the tray as he grabs the change, both walking over to a table and sitting down. "Don't throw my salad at me," he reprimands as James chucks the salad bowl at him.

"Oh, you mean that rabbit food?" James counters, pulling a chocolate bar from his pocket and opening it, Steve frowns when looking at him unwrapping the sweet treat. "You're gonna go up and pay for this, aren't you?"

Steve gives him a disapproving look. "Did you steal that?"

"I didn't if you go and pay for it," he laughs loudly when Steve gets up and walks to the counter, handing her the correct change and explaining before walking back to their table. "You're such a good boy, Rogers. So, what's been going on?"

Steve rolls his eyes, out of the two Barnes was the guy who cut corners. He believed that separating emotions from their work makes you a better Doctor, he could be right, but Steve has the belief that being emotional and leading with your emotions creates an environment that makes you want to save every patient. They're opposite ends of the spectrum. Bucky likes the thrill of puzzle-solving, getting that diagnostic and Steve likes saving his patients anyway he can.

Steve stopped mid-bite of his salad, glancing at James who wasn't even looking at him, opening his can of energy drink.

"Well, Fury has ordered all of us to get our paperwork done and I have, so do you want me to do yours?" James looks up and raises his eyebrows, "the new chairman of the board, Barnes. I don't want him to have more reasons to hate you, your personality already puts people off." Barnes gives a mock hurt face but nods in agreement. "I'll take your reports home tonight and do it for you."

They're silent for a few minutes, both eating in respective silence. James gets a few alerts on his pager, not bothering to check it; standard for him. Steve mostly talks, randomly talking about the wrestling match that they're going to have to record this weekend; he's working the night shifts. Telling James the usual bet wager is on, they always put in 200$ each and each, and every time, Barnes somehow wins- yet, Steve pays for his lunches.

Once they've finished their food and put their trash away they walk to the elevators. Stepping in and pressing the button for their floor, fortunately, their offices are next to one another. Something that Rogers later found out that Barnes requested, he wanted Steve closeby, possibly to annoy him as he does on the daily. James is often found in Steve's office, hiding from potential cases.

Steve glances at his wristwatch, present from his first wife-he's sentimental. Bucky calls him hopeless, perhaps he is. Peggy had brought that for him, a birthday present, and he has said he would pawn it off and buy himself a new watch. He just never has the time to go and look at watches or spend that amount on a decent one- the one Peggy got was decent, at least, that's what she had told him.

"You never answered my question," Steve quirks an eyebrow and looks at James, "About what's been going. You avoided the question and told me about work, we haven't caught up in almost two days because of my latest case." He looks expectingly at Steve, "could be because nothing new has happened, but you always update me on something new you've watched on Netflix and I know you have started something new. Something has happened; you don't want to tell me and it's either because it's bad or you just don't want to tell me."

The elevator doors open and they both step out, Steve looks at James and sighs softly.

"For once, please, just leave this alone." James tilts his head, he's only a few inches shorter than Steve. "It's not even that interesting or worth your time, trust me."

James nods once, "You don't want me to know and it's also bad, interesting." He smiles before walking to his office, just as his team shows up.

5:00pm Barnes' Office

"James, give me your paperwork." He has his coat hanging off an arm and his briefcase in the other, shoulder holding the glass door open.

Parker, Maximoff, and Jones all look up at Steve from their table. The whiteboard behind them have the patients different symptoms down, Steve briefly looks before watching James' attempt to lift the large stacks of files and papers. He notices the stiffness displayed in the left shoulder, how it locks-up and he can't move it, so Steve steps up and grabs the files.

An injury from years ago, he got it looked at even had surgery on that shoulder... to no avail. The pain lingers on. A reminder of his past life, a life that Steve never brings up out of respect for his friend.

"Hows the first wife?"

Steve stops and looks up, James doesn't wear a readable expression and Steve's throat tightens, daring to glance at the others in the room. He couldn't wait to bring this up privately, of course, he couldn't because it's James Barnes: when he figures something out he needs an audience. They all just watch as Steve has an internal battle within himself.

"It could be Non-Hodjikns-lymphoma," Jones pipes up, coat hanging off the back of her chair, clearly trying to get the conversation back onto the patient. "We've been thinking it's all in the head, but it could be pushing down on the spine and creating the symptoms we've seen in the brain."

"So I'm right," Barnes continues and Steve places the paperwork into his briefcase.

Finally looking at him once he clicks it shut. "I haven't even replied to her. It's nothing. I told you to leave this alone, so leave it."

"I just can't figure out why you weren't going to tell me," James leans against the wall and shrugs his shoulders as Steve looks at him with disbelief. "I'm your best friend, in fact, I'm your only friend that knows Peggy Carter and what she did to you. Why didn't you come to me first?" Before Steve can get a word in, James is off again, "Could be many things; you want to message her and me knowing would make it difficult, you know I would remind you of how evil she is. Could be because you aren't going to message her but you feel guilty, you want to message her but you know she's evil. It's something deeper, though."

Steve just sighs tiredly, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Bucky," the nickname he hardly ever uses a work because professionalism is Steve's forte, "It's five text messages, all of which I have received today. This is one piece of thread that is frayed and small, not everything deserves to be a puzzle and my life, what I do, isn't something to be discussed at work. Leave it." The room is silent, James gives a curt nod.

"50$ on you texting her before lunch tomorrow," James calls out before his office door closes, Steve grumbles to himself with a shake of his head when pressing the elevator button heading to the parking lot.

- Please let me know what you think, I really appreciate feedback and want to know if this is something you’re interested in. Let me know if you want to be tagged too :) Rosalie- 

Tagging: @starkerhowlter @atanoissapa @princessn-97 @oddone92 @rexburn12 @stevie-strawberry 

[sabinefm]

( bruna marquezine , cis female , peach ) welcome to aida&stefano , SABINA REUBE ! thank you for choosing to stay here. in this form it says that you go by the SHE / HER , you’re TWENTY THREE years old , you’re originally from SAN FRANCISCO , and you’ve been staying here for ONE YEAR . it also says you’re known to be + RESOURCEFUL , but also - SELFISH. that really shouldn’t be a problem though. check in at the front , hope you enjoy your stay ! (the click of heels, hot sand under your bare feet, chocolate covered strawberries, the imprints a bra leaves on your skin, red lipstick staining your fingertips )

ABOUT THE MUN.  i hope this email never finds you 

hello all, my name is pepper and i have never been on time for anything, ever in my life sdjkdskj this is especially true today, rip. no but honestly, i never thought i would actually get accepted into this beautiful rp so i stalled checking acceptances cause i’m a Scaredy Cat and that made me really late, and then i ended up taking the rest of my coworker’s shift cause she had to go and thus ended up coming home even later than i thought which has made me really really late... BUT against all the odds i’m here! and ready to party! and tell y’all about my bby sabina! but first a little bit about me, i am twenty four (ew), i can’t cook (rip), and i currently spend most of my lonely quarantine days either watching anime or scrolling through tiktok. i am canadian but every canadian that meets me thinks i’m american and i don’t know why. when i was a child i had an irrational (or yk very rational) fear of sharkboy from sharkboy and lava girl, and tbh it has never left me. i was also afraid of gill from kim possible so you can imagine my horror when that fish f*cking movie won an oscar?? when i was younger i also thot god looked like king triton from the little mermaid cause he was white and he had a beard yk. it fit in my little brain. and finally i just recently discovered girl in red and therefore feel like i finally got my bi girl card,,, feeling validated in this chillis tonight. and if that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know about me idk what will. anyways, that’s officially enough about me onto who we’re all really here for, ms sabine!

BIO.  the lengths i would go to to both get attention and avoid it... astounding  tldr ; daughter of a guy who created a dating site + app, came to a&s after leaving her husband to be at the alter after catching him cheating with her mother, wants to be a bad bitch, sometimes succeeds. 

THEN.

sabina came into the world the child of a mediocre stay at home mom and a penniless entrepreneur so it goes without saying that she had very little. her dad had a lot of passion and a lot of drive but no one would really give him a chance, and her mother kind of only married the man because she was expecting him to make it big enough for her to never have to work another day in her life so? yeah she was hella disappointed tbh 

but not sabina! she looked up to her father so much as a child. while her mom was kind of ~emotionally unavailable~ her father was too, but like at least he had a dream he believed in, yk? he wanted to help people fall in love and sabine being the big romantic she was as a child had never heard of anything so noble. her daddy was her hero. sabina honestly had big daddy’s little girl vibes until she was like 22 tkjsdkjd

one day when their family credit card got rejected one too many times sabina’s mother called it quits on yk the whole mother gig. she left sabina on a bench outside of the grocery store while she went to go home and ‘get some cash’ which even at seven sabine knew was a damn lie cause they were too broke to have any damn cash. and yeah that was the last sabina heard of her for a long ass time. it was a reverse ‘dad went to get some cigarettes’ situation but just as traumatic honestly. 

although not as much for sabine’s dad. that man literally saw his wife leaving him as a minor setback and moved on. he threw himself harder into his work, to the point where sabine barely saw him. this was the start of sabine desperately trying to compete with her father’s business for even a sliver of his attention. this was a battle she usually lost. 

sabine raised herself for a while there, since her father yk remarried his job and her mother was following the jonas brother’s cross country. she became both very independent and very lonely for a child, which was an odd combination that both haunted sabine for pretty much the rest of her life after that point and lead her to make most of her worst decisions. but that’s a story for another time, because right when all hope was lost sabine’s father won the lottery. literally. 

all at once they were five million dollars richer. they went from nothing to everything real quick. and this marked a change in the reube’s lives in a way sabine couldn’t have even imagine at the time. 

sabine’s father hector used the money to fund his business and that shit blew up! he created a site by the name of loveisblind that was in the ring with the likes of match.com and christianmingle yk, one of those dating sites. everyone on loveisblind is set up on blind dates based on the information they fill out on their profile and are only allowed to see each other when they reach a certain point of emotional intimacy. the site had wild success rates, and got very popular, blah, blah, the point was the reubes? suddenly rich af!

and you think that would give hector more time to spend with his daughter right? no. it gave hector the money to hire nannies for his daughter. 

yes, somehow despite hector no longer having to work himself to the bone, sabine saw him even less. tragic really. she really became that lonely rich girl trope real quick, and this is what unfortunately got sabine into the habit of seeking the attention she wasn’t getting from her father in other men and women, which she is not proud of. 

that unfortunately didn’t fill the void that sabine had but you know what did? making the loveisblind app so her daddy would love her. basically around the time that tinder started gaining traction and getting popular, people stopped going on the loveisblind site and started instead turning to apps. her father was trying and failing to get into that market, and sabina, being yk, actually a lot more intelligent than her father ever gave her credit for, created the app for his site and pitched it to him over his lunch one day. it was honestly one of the first times sabina can remember her father really paying attention to her in the longest time. it was also the proudest she’s ever seen him. 

the app was a big success! a whole new generation was using it and finding love, including one ms sabine reube. in the early days of the app launch sabine met her prince charming, christopher ‘kit’ johannson. he swept her right off her feet, and she fell HARD, and when they debuted their relationship it wasn’t long until they kind of became the face of the app?? like sabine’s father was the creator after all, the fact that his daughter found love on the app too was big news for a while. people followed their relationship and strived for something like that for themselves. sabine didn’t know it at the time but they were basically a walking advertisement, and her father was LIVING for that.

fast forward a bit and your girl went to yale for computer engineering and business (did her daddy’s status and money ease the way? maybe man, nepotism am i right) whilst kit went to harvard, they were long distance for a bit before they graduated and kit very publicly proposed (the whole thing was well recorded too, gotta get that gram), and then both sab and kit moved in together and both started working for their families respective companies. it was around then that sabine started to understand just how much and how often kit was cheating on her. it was a real wakeup call. 

sabine ended up breaking down to her father about her suspicions, and he basically ended up telling her to suck it up and think of the business. the fact was sabine and kit, the face of their new generation and one of the first successful couples from the app getting married and living happily ever after was amazing for the company. and the two of them calling the whole thing off just because of a little infidelity just wasn’t going to cut it. 

now once again, this is where sabine’s deep desire to be loved and accepted really bites her in the ass. this was one of the first times sabine’s father had ever really asked her for anything so... she did it. or at least she did her best to do it. she lasted until the wedding day around the time where she caught kit and her own mother (who she only invited out of a deep rooted need to actually know the woman who gave birth to her again) going at it in the coat closet of their wedding venue. yeah, at that point sabine pretty much snapped, blacked out, smashed a whole wedding cake over kit’s head, and took their honeymoon to venice on her own. she arrived at Aida&Stefano with running mascara in a ruined wedding dress trying to ask about a honeymoon suite. it was a whole mess, but you know what so is sab so at least she was on brand. 

NOW.

after sabina arrived she spent about a week mourning her failed almost-marriage and yk, destroyed family before she decided to fuck it all and reinvent herself. she desperately wanted to become someone new, someone unrecognizable from who she was before, even if it was only on the inside. so she cut her hair (the first step to every transformation) hardened everything soft about herself and made the irrevocable decision to become a bad bitch. she (mostly) succeeded. kind of. 

sabine basically curb stomped out the soft, hopeless romantic people pleaser in her and decided to become someone more unsympathetic. someone who puts her own needs first instead of burning herself up to keep others warm (cause what good has that ever done her before?). someone who people would be afraid to hurt but who wouldn’t even feel pain anyways. and to sum it up that person is a heartless bitch. or at least she tries to be.

i’m gonna stop here because this is already a lot longer than i wanted it to be and i haven’t even got to the other sections yet rip but you get the point i feel

PERSONALITY.  *feels nothing* mmm, don’t like that *feels something but like too much* mmm not a fan of that either 

most of this is tbd because i’m still developing her but

VAIN. the kind of girl who will file her nails or check herself out in the mirror while you’re talking to her. will reapply her lipstick in the rearview mirror of her car while she’s driving. checks herself out in any reflective surface, i mean i would too if i looked like bruna but Still 

KIND. even though sab tries to be a hard ass she’s probably the most loyal, generous, kind person you would ever meet deep down. like she puts on this persona of being heartless, but if anyone needs her she will be there for them. kind of hates that she’s such a softie sometimes but she can’t help it. 

EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE. doesn’t want to be hurt again and will do pretty much anything to avoid that. tries to keep people at arms length especially romantically. loves making friends though, and will indeed spoil them. 

HEADCANNONS.  who wants to hire me as their maid i’m not gonna clean im just gonna wear a cute maid outfit dust like 6 things and bend down a lot

has the vibes of that drunk rich aunt that’s always smoking like sexily as she looks far into the distance and wears like a super luxurious coat. will gossip with you. will buy you things your mom won’t. will cuss out your toxic father at the dinner table. that’s her energy.

unfortunately actually does smoke. i hate 

okay fun fact, the only reason sabine went to university for computer programming and business was because she felt her father wanted her to. she honestly has no real passion for the subject and just wanted to use her talent to make her father as proud of her as he was on the day she debuted that app to him. but now that making daddy proud isn’t like the only thing occupying her entire brain sabine like is like ??? wait what do i actually want to do with my life ??? and it took her a while to figure it out but after a while she fell back on one of her passions, art. she’s actually making a graphic novel aimed towards young adults about a modern day hades and persephone vibe, kind of about a girl who falls in love with the grim reaper and the lengths she goes to to chase after her (yes it is a Lady Reaper) into the depths of hell,,, it’s wild. she’s very proud of it but also kind of shy about it tbh. her go to critic is georgio, because she knows that little shit will be honest and yk what she respects that. 

but when it comes to making actual money your girl turns to cam work most of the time, because well. at the very least it’s quick, easy, and semi discreet. and sometimes she gets something out of it too. she figures it’s a win win, and she’s been doing it for about a year now, mostly because she absolutely refuses to use any of her father’s money. 

is allergic to cucumber. 

has a different 'relationship’ like every week or so, along with a few one night stands peppered in. unfortunately still attracted to people who are bad for her (kit for example was an asshole and a cheater and DEFINITELY conservative like she messed up on that one), but is also very afraid of falling in love again and letting herself get hurt, so she normally doesn’t let things last too long before she starts self sabotaging. 

if you ever catch sabine with like... her nails growing out or her nail polish chipped, something is wrong. like something is deeply wrong. sabine will have her nails done in the middle of the apocalypse, the only reason they would be less than perfect is if she is having a breakdown. always has colour on her nails, and usually it’s a shade of red, purple, or black. 

always has wild ass stories to tell about her tinder dates or one night stands and will tell them without shame for your entertainment. is a great storyteller honestly, a talent she got from her mother but she doesn’t want to admit that. 

fun fact, her mother mariah was PISSED when hector got rich AFTER she left him and tried for years to sue him or something but no dice. she was so angry and vengeful over the whole thing that she took the opportunity of being invited to her daughters wedding to get back at her husband where it hurt, his business. thus sleeping with kit. didn’t really think about how her daughter might feel about the whole thing because she was yk blinded by rage, but that’s just how mariah is so i mean,,, rip sabina. 

shops when she’s sad, or happy, or angry, or confused sdkjdsj will use any excuse to shop, and at this point she has more clothes than she knows what to do with. her style can be kind of out there at times, but she will let you borrow things though. 

she has a cat named momo. yes that is inspired by her being the peach skeleton. also has a parrot named poe i think. i also have the urge to give her a snake but... i will resist. so sabine wants a snake for sure 

her favourite colours are black and red

she is a horrible terrible driver. don’t drive with sabine unless you’re an adrenaline junkie or like want to die tbh 

her dad 100% set up the relationship between kit and sabine as a pr stunt, but sabine doesn’t know that yet and when she finds out her father used her like that ooh boy things are gonna get wildt. as it is now sabine just thinks she disappointed him and it’s kind of eating her alive. half the reason she’s staying here is because she doesn’t want to face him or yk her old life anymore. her father is so caught up in the shame she caused him that he hasn’t even tried to call her after the whole thing and the one time sabine got hella drunk and called him all he did was tell her what a disappointment she was and ask when she was coming back to work so we love ~parenting~

WANTED CONNECTIONS. girls will “🥺🥺🥺🥺” their way out of everything

close friends please and thanks, best friends also please, uh, can i get some awkward one night stands that avoid each other at all cost, can i get a neighbour who’s ear sabine is always talking off in the hallway between their rooms even tho they just want to go home but can’t because sabine is Oversharing, maybe a flirtationship, but also i would love an enemy (it could be for a ridiculous reason or a completely valid reason but either way please give it to me), someone she goes out dancing/partying with at piccolo, a sibling like relationship, a confidante, someone who she trusts to read her comic and maybe even do some linework, and absolutely anything else okay my brain is fried rn but i want it all! please like this and i will slip and slide into your dms <3

[nataliecarsonsuniverse]

Say You Will Remember Me (Part 1)

Summary:

2016: Spencer has just gotten married to (Y/n), the girl of his dreams. The two navigate their new life together as they work through his demanding job and a stalker that just won't leave them alone. 

2018: Wendy and Peter have been hiding out in Maine for nearly a year now from Wendy's abusive ex. The two are just starting to settle into the new lives that they hope to spend with each other.

2020: After two years of searching for his missing wife, (Y/n) and Spencer are brought back together again. However, things take a turn for the worse as Spencer realizes that she is no longer the same girl he married.

A/N: The years listed here do not coordinate with the seasons in any way, the years are more or less just to show the timeline of the story and put the events in order.

June 2016

Washington D.C.

“ Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Helena, Montana. We are now inviting those passengers with small children…” (Y/n) drowned out the rest of the service announcement opting instead to look at her husband. Her Husband. She still wasn’t used to that, she wasn’t sure she ever would be either. Her Husband. When TSA had checked her ticket and called her Mrs.Reid she did a double-take before remembering that is her name now. Mrs.Reid , she mouthed the word to herself. She was Mrs.Reid .

“Is this strange to you?” She asked him to move her head off of his shoulder and readjust her backpack ready to get on the nearly seven-hour plane ride. “Are you going to be able to rough it with the flying coach with the rest of us?” When he looked down at her the adoration in his eyes made her want to melt just a little and she was pretty sure that she literally felt her heart melt.

“Anything for you.” He replied. “And for the record, I have flown coach numerous times. It’s not that bad.”

(Y/n) shoved his shoulder. “I don’t know if I was jet setting across the country in a private jet I would never be able to get back on a United Flight. I mean the overhead bin storage is crowded, there is no leg room, the person in front you always reclines their seat. You see that baby over there?” (Y/n) asked pointing towards a mother with a stroller and sleeping infant that was getting ready to board. “That kid will be crying within the first 45 minutes and won’t stop until the last 45 minutes. And don’t even get me started on the cheap pretzels they hand out.”

Spencer laughed looking down at his wife who was currently curled up on two different seats with her blanket stretched out over her. “You know it’s going to be fine right?”

“Of course it’s going to be fine,” (Y/n) replied, sitting up to look at him. “It’s going to be more than fine. It’s going to be fucking fantastic. We’re going to land in Montana. It will be cool, I can wear my sweaters comfortably in June and you won’t look strange to people walking around in a cardigan in June.”

“It’s not that strange to wear a cardigan in June.” Spencer countered.

“Yes, it is,” (Y/n) replied. “Especially when you live in D.C. and it’s 100 degrees outside not including the humidity.”

“The humidity is what gets you,” Spencer replied. “That was the hardest adjustment after moving here from Vegas. I could not believe how much I was sweating when I first moved here”

“And yet you still wear multiple layers,” (Y/n) said laughing. “God I can not wait to land and for this week to start.”

“Me neither.” Spencer said kissing the top of her head before they made the boarding call for zone 4. “Ready?” He asked as she shifted to sit up. (Y/n) grabbed her blanket and neatly folded it up as much as she could before readjusting her backpack on her shoulder.

“Absolutely,” she said standing up as he followed suit. Before he could turn away she stood on her tiptoes pressing a light kiss to his lips. “I’m so happy right now.” She breathed, licking her lips.

“You have no idea,” he whispered back as the two of them made their way towards the gate hand in hand. They each pulled out their boarding pass when they made it to the front of the line.

They both scanned their pass before being ushered into the gateway. “Have a nice flight Mr. and Mrs.Reid.”

“It’s Dr,” (Y/n) whispered as they made their way down the gateway to the plane. “Dr and Mrs.Reid.” She finished. Spencer chuckled next to her stepping back so that she could enter the plane first. (Y/n) made her way to their seats which were luckily towards the front of the plane. Spencer had picked the seats claiming that by the time they made it through the seven-hour flight he was going to want to get her off that plane as soon as quickly so that they could go to the B and B they were staying at and let the honeymoon begin. She wasn’t going to be one to object to his plan.

(Y/n) sighed in relief when they got on the plane upon seeing that this was a smaller aircraft then what she had expected. Usually, when she flew home to Seattle it was a massive plane with at least rows of six but this one only had rows of 4 two on each side of the aisle. This meant that the two of them wouldn’t have to share with anyone which was phenomenal in her book. Spencer took her backpack from her and put it and his satchel in the overhead compartment while she took her blanket and made herself comfortable in the window seat.

When Spencer sat down in the aisle seat she was quick to make herself comfortable again resting her head on his shoulder and pulling her feet up under herself. It was the kind of position they often found themselves in at home. It was the only way that she shouldn't complain about having to watch a movie in a different language, that and the fact that it was so freaking cute when Spencer would mouth the translation to himself not realizing he was doing so.

Spencer ran his hand through (Y/n)’s hair as they waited for all the passengers to board the plane. It felt like it took forever but then again he wasn’t used to more than seven people boarding a plane. Finally, once it seemed that people stopped moving down the aisle the flight attendant came over the radio “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 89B with service from Helena Montana to Washington D.C. We are currently third in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately seven minutes’ time.” He tried to listen to the rest of her announcement but quickly found himself by his wife who was tugging on the sleeve of his cardigan.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” She asked.

“Maybe once or twice.” He replied.

“Well, I’m going to say it for the third time. I love you and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I’m right there with you (Y/n).” He whispered kissing the top of her head in a move that became so habitual that half the time he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “I love you so much.”

--------

July 2018

Bar Harbor, Maine

Wendy stood at the edge of the yacht with her arms outstretched very much so in the same fashion Rose did on the Titanic only Wendy’s Jack was not there to hold her steady. The cool Maine breeze swept over the side of the boat and for the first time in a long time she felt one hundred percent okay.

“Wendy!” Peter called out. “You’re scaring me!” There was her Jack, Wendy thought to herself.

“Sorry.” She said stepping down from the edge of the yacht. “I just got caught up in the moment.” She continued.

“It’s okay,” Peter said coming up and wrapping his arms around her. “Are you feeling better?” He asked his voice dripping with concern so much so that she almost felt guilty for implying that she never was okay in his embrace.

“Yes.” She replied without hesitation of a doubt. “Being outside and getting fresh air helps so much.” She continued. “We should do this more often, just you, me, and the water.”

“Perhaps we can.” Peter mused. “I guess there is no harm in being out here.”

“It’s been almost a year,” Wendy whined to Peter. “Don’t you think that we are safe by now?” She asked turning in his embrace and batting her eyes at him.

“I do.” Peter sighed. “I just want to be extra cautious.” He whispered. “I can’t lose you. Not again.”

Wendy reached up to gently cup his face in her hands before standing on her tiptoes and pressing a soft kiss on his lips. He sighed against her and she could almost feel all the tension leaving his body. “You won’t.” She promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” Peter replies when they reluctantly pull apart. “It’s just that sometimes I lie awake at night unable to shake the image of you lying there cold and lifeless and I think to myself what if I had been just ten minutes late and that monster had actually killed you?” He was breathing harder now, his brain starting to dive into the rabbit hole of what-ifs.

“Hey,” Wendy said softly. “Look at me.” He looked down at her and just like that all of his worries went away. She was still here. She was still alive. “You did make it in time.” She said. “There is no use thinking about the what-ifs of the past, they didn’t happen, why worry about something that already did not happen?”

“I know that you are right.” he said “I just-”

“I know.” Wendy cut him off. “I know. But I don’t want to think about him for one more second. I want to enjoy this day with you.”

“Okay.” Peter agreed before retreating inside the cabin of the boat to grab their beach towels and deli sandwiches that they had made this morning. Peter spread two towels out on the deck while Wendy peeled off her cover-up before sitting on her towel. The Maine air was slightly cold as it rolled off the water but she didn’t mind. It was almost kind of a relief to have a seventy-degree day on July 4th.

“Here you go,” Peter said, handing her the turkey sandwich and a can of Coke. “I was thinking maybe tonight we can grill burgers and watch the fireworks?”

“That sounds perfect,” Wendy replied, smiling to herself as she thought about just how far she had come in the last year. She couldn't wait to see what was in store for her for the remaining years that hse would without a doubt spend with Peter at her side.

------

June 2016

East Glacier Park, Montana

Spencer parked the rental car outside the gorgeous lodge that two had booked and looking at the scenery blew (Y/n)’s mind away. “This place is amazing!” She said her mouth was still partly agap. The drive itself from Helena to Glacier had been breathtaking, to say the least, but the closer they got to the national park the more beautiful the landscape began.

“You’re so lucky,” (Y/n) said as the two of them got out of the car and Spencer grabbed the bags from the back of the car. She threw her backpack over her shoulder walking over and taking his satchel from him so that he can carry both of their luggage. “You literally get paid to travel all over the place on a private jet.”

“Yeah because I have a lot of time to sightsee,” Spencer said.

“When do you go back?” (Y/n) dreads the answer, she wanted to just enjoy this week that the two of them had but there was a clock somewhere in the back of the other mind counting down the hours until he would be whisked away again to go fight crime. She loved that his job involved making a difference in the world but sometimes it was lonely when your boyfriend, husband were constantly gone for a week at a time.

“A week.” He replied. “But we have the entire week with absolutely no phone calls or texts.” He continued as he closed the trunk of the car before locking the doors. “Plus it’s only another two weeks until I have thirty days off with fairly normal hours. But let’s not worry about any of that this weekend okay?”

“Okay.” (Y/n) agreed as the two of them made their way into the lobby of the lodge. When they entered the lodge, both of them were blown away with the massive room with the high ceilings and exposed wood beams. The Montana sun streamed through large skylights on the roof giving the lodge a rustic simplistic feel. “This is amazing,” (Y/n) said as they made their way over to the check-in counter.

There were lots of tables and couches in the lobby with people congregating and socializing at each one. Towards the back of the lobby, there were some checkers and chess boards that (Y/n) knew that the two of them would be spending a fair amount of time at. She beat Spencer one time at chess but if you asked him it was only because she cheated by unbuttoning the top few buttons of her blouse and leaning over the board as if she couldn’t quite see the pieces well enough. Still, she was getting much better at the game, to the point where she could now hold her on pretty well. There were several really close games between the two of them where she was just one move behind having him beat.

Behind the chess boards were large windows that let sunlight streak through the lobby just as much as the skylights did. The windows revealed the stunning scenery outside with a river running through the valley of the mountains. It looked like there was a large wrap-around patio back there also consisting of tables for guests to enjoy the scenery at.

When they were called to the front desk the two of them made their way to the woman with a large smile on her face. “How can I help you guys today?” She asked.

“We’re checking into our room,” (Y/n) said resting her elbows on the counter of the desk. “For Reid.”

The woman nodded typing into the computer. “Alright, so it looks like you two are in the honeymoon suite.” She said sliding them two key cards across the counter. “So if you go up those stairs over there,” She said pointing towards the back of the lobby “You’ll go up to the fourth floor, and then your room will be just down the hall from there. If you guys have any questions at all please feel free to stop back by.”

“Thank you.” Both Spencer and (Y/n) said together taking the keys off the counter and heading back towards where she pointed at the stairs being. At the top of the stairs, they head down the long corridor until they find the room that they were assigned. (Y/n) puts her card in the key reader before opening the door to reveal the elegant yet rustic looking suite.

“Oh my gosh,” (Y/n) said as she walked towards the giant windows overlooking the river that flowed below. “This is amazing.”

Spencer put their bags down on the footrest that was sitting in front of the bed before walking over to wear (Y/n). He stood directly behind her circling his hands around her waist, his head resting on top of hers. “I feel like I’m dreaming.” He whispered.

(Y/n) turned around in his arms standing on her tiptoes to close the distances between them. He didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, his hands quickly finding the familiar space tangled in her. She sighed against him as he picked her up so that her legs were wrapped around his waist. “What if- and hear me out- what if we stay here for just a little bit longer than expected and then we can go hike the park?”

Spencer laughed before attaching his lips to hers again. “That’s cute that you thought I might not agree with that.” He said before throwing her down on the king-size bed, her laugher filling the room before he got on the bed to join her.

-----

July 2018

Bar Harbor, Maine

Wendy pushed her plate away from herself, feeling stuffed while sitting on their back patio watching the fireworks that their neighbors were setting off. “That burger was so good.” She said. “Although I’m not sure why I’m surprised, everything that you cook is absolutely amazing. I mean who taught you how to cook like that?”

Peter got up from the table grabbing her plate and then his own. “My dad actually.” He said walking through the sliding glass door to throw away their plates. Wendy started to get up and follow him but he assured her that he would be right back. True to his word, Peter was sitting right next to her again within two minutes. “My mom couldn’t cook at all.” Peter continued. “Partly because no one had ever taught her how but I think largely because she would just get so distracted caught up in daydreams that everything would either end up really burnt or severely undercooked.”

“Both my parents were pretty good at cooking.” Wendy said “but they never really taught me how to cook. To be honest they never really taught me anything about being an adult. I think they just kind of assumed that I would always be their little girl but then when I turned eighteen and I was moving off to college and all of a sudden it was too late to teach someone everything there is to be an adult.”

“Do you think that’s maybe why you ended up in the situation that you did?” Peter asked. “I mean there are certain men out there who look for women who need someone to depend on. They got off on the idea that they are the only thing that’s keeping you from living in a box on the side of the road.”

Wendy pondered that for a moment before slowly speaking “Maybe. But I don’t really think that’s fair to blame what he did to me on them. I mean he was the monster and I don’t really want to place blame on anyone but him.”

“Of course.” Peter agreed. “I didn’t mean to imply that they were to blame. It is 100 percent his fault that this happened to you and I don’t want you to ever think differently.”

“You know, it’s funny,” Wendy said. “I spent all day thinking about the last fourth of July when I was with him and I just can’t help but think how far I have come. I am happier now than I have been in years and it’s all thanks to you. When I think about what my life could’ve been had you not shown up I honestly start to hyperventilate just a little.”

“Hey,” Peter whispered, pulling his chair back from the table and motioning her to come over to him to sit in his lap. She hesitated for a second and he caught on “it’s okay.” He said beckoning her towards him.

“I’m sorry,” She said, tears starting to spring to her eyes at the painful memory Peter was forced to the forefront of her mind. “It’s just that he used to make me sit in his lap after he hit me.” she hiccuped “He used to make me sit in his lap and he would stroke my hair telling me how sorry he was, that it was never going to happen again, but of course it always did.” She sobbed but now Peter was kneeling in front of her holding her hands.

“It’s okay.” He shushed her. “He can’t hurt anymore. You’re safe now remember?” Peter asked her. “I promise he’s never going to find you again. You will never have to see his face again, hear his voice, his name, feel his touch. I swear to God Wendy he will never have you again.”

“Thank you,” Wendy said as Peter raised a hand to her cheek to brush away the tears that were now silently falling from her checks.

“Do you want to go to bed?” He asked. “Maybe a good night's sleep will help like it usually does?” Wendy nodded as Peter stood up taking her hand in his and leading her down the hall towards the bedroom of the one-story ranch Peter had inherited when his uncle died.

In the bedroom, Wendy quickly changed into her pajamas before crawling under the covers. It didn’t take long for Peter to do the same wrapping his arms around her as he did every night. It took some getting used to at first but over time she became accustomed to the feeling of his arms around hers. It now no longer reminded her of the relationship that she had left. When Peter wrapped his arms around her, it felt safe and comfortable versus the feeling of being trapped and imprisoned within yourself. She wondered how long it would take for her to get comfortable sitting in his lap.

“Peter?” Wendy asked in the darkness

“Yes?” He asked.

“Do you think I’ll ever get to meet your parents?” She asked him.

“Maybe someday down the road once all the dust has settled.” He replied and she smiled to herself at the idea of them being together still five years from now. She wanted that. She wanted that so badly.

-----

June 2016

Glacier National Park

“Did you know that Glacier National Park is the first national peace park?” Spencer asked as the two of them drove through the winding roads of the park stopping occasionally to get out and take pictures. “It’s actually called Waterton Glacier International Peace park as it straddles Montana and Alberta.”

“I did not know that.” (Y/n) said, “I’ve never actually been to Alberta.”

“I’ve never been to Canada,” Spencer responded.

“How have you never been to Canada?” She asked him “Not even like Toronto?” She questioned.

“Nope,” Spencer responded. “It’s just never come up and like you said earlier I spend so much traveling for work that when I do actually get home I like to just stay home.”

“That’s fair,” (Y/n) said. “How did I not know that you’ve never been to Canada?” She asked herself. “Now I’m annoyed that you didn’t tell me that earlier, we could’ve gone up there. It’s only like an hour drive or so to the border.”

“We can do it some other time.” He replies. “We’ve got the rest of our lives to remember? We don’t have to check everything off in the first week of marriage.”

“True.” She said as they approached a stop sign. “According to the map, if you make a right here this will be the beginning of the sun road which is supposed to give some of the most scenic views in the park.”

“Do you want to do all 49.71 miles of it?” He asked her. “Keeping in mind that it will actually be 99.42 miles by the time we get back.”

(Y/n) checked her watch noting the time. “I’m up for it if you are. It won’t be dark by the time we are finished which leaves enough time for a sunset dinner.”

“Sunset dinner?” He asked, smiling over at her.

“Yes.” (Y/n) said while you were showering I read the brochure on the desk and it said that the tables on the back deck offer a great view of the sunset at night.”

“That sounds amazing,” Spencer said reaching across the counselor for (Y/n)’s hand which he gave a quick squeeze feeling his heart soar with just how happy he felt at this moment. He wished so badly that he could just freeze this moment and live it for the rest of his life.

Later that night the two of them sat at a table outside, (Y/n) wearing one of the many cardigans he had packed hugging it tightly to herself only slightly shivering. It was only sixty degrees outside which wasn’t bad but it was when you just came from D.C. where nights were still in the eighties.

“This is so beautiful.” she mused looking over at Spencer who was staring at her. “Why are you staring at me? You’re going to miss the sunset.” She said realizing exactly what she had set him up. “If you say anything corny about how I’m prettier than the sunset I swear.”

“You are though!” Spencer whined while (Y/n) lightly slapped him on the arm.

“Such a romantic sap.” (Y/n) laughed, taking another bite of her salmon before pulling out her phone and pulling up the camera. “Smile.” She instructed him to hold up the photo so that the two of them were in the frame and the sun was setting over the mountain and the river in the background. (Y/n) snapped the picture smiling to herself and the end results before sending it to him. She immediately made the picture her background and later that night when she awoke in the middle of the night and reached blindly for his phone to check the time she smiled to herself seeing that he too had made the picture his wallpaper.

Chapter Two)

March 2017

Washington D.C.

(Y/n) sat on the couch, her leg anxiously bouncing up and down. Spencer was due to be home any minute now and she could not wait to see him. He had been gone for nine days this time, far longer than usual. To say that the nights had been lonely was an understatement. She got through the day as best as she could, it wasn’t hard to be distracted all day while teaching fourth graders. After the fifth night of him not coming home she decided she would stay later at work, grading papers and getting ready for the next day. Honestly, anything to avoid having to go home to their empty house.

Friday night she had been at a bar with some friends when he called to tell her they had finally solved the case. She got so excited when he told her that he thought that he would be home that night and that she would finally get to share her bed with her husband again only for him to tell her that the weather in Seattle was really bad and they weren’t going to be able to fly out till Saturday morning. She had tried to hide her disappointment in her voice, she had always tried to make an effort to make it seem like she was okay with the long periods of absence. She never wanted him to think that she resented him for his job. So she tried to hide it the best she could, but she had also already had two beers and according to him, she was a lightweight, so she was pretty sure that he heard the disappointment. And if he didn’t he definitely figured it out when she said “what a fucking bummer” into the phone thinking that she had already hung it up.

So when she finally heard keys in the door and the doorknob turn it open it should not have surprised when she nearly tackled him before he made it into their apartment. Yet for a genius, he could be pretty dense sometimes.

“Woah (Y/n),” He said laughing as she snaked her arms around his neck, her lips already finding him. Nine days she thought. Nine days since she had kissed. After a second of kissing, whatever hesitation or exhaustion that was left him gave in as he dropped his bags right there in the entryway and carried her to their bedroom.

Afterward, he pulled her into his chest burying his nose into her red hair feeling content now that he was back home with her. Traveling all the time used to never bother him but now that he was leaving her behind each time he heard the phrase “wheels up” he mentally shuddered to wonder how long it would be until he can fall asleep next to her again. And then there was how much more dangerous the job felt now. All of a sudden there was a person waiting for him to come home, someone who would be devastated if he never did come home. Sure his mom would be devastated as well as the team but yet the idea of leaving her behind made him want to be sick.

“Spence?” (Y/n) asked, putting a hand on his chest, raising herself up just a little to look at him. “Where did you go?”

“Sorry.” He replied as he went back to rubbing circles on her back as she once again settled herself against his chest. He was slightly disappointed that it was only 1 pm as he would’ve loved to have just fallen asleep right now. “You seem really happy today.” He said all of a sudden remembering the way that she practically pounced on him the second he walked in the door.

“I just missed you,” (Y/n) responded. “But also you hit your one hundred marks which means that I have the next thirty days with you.”

“Always a hidden motive with you isn’t there?” he asked teasingly. He of course also knew that he would get to spend the next thirty days working fairly normal hours while teaching. He used to hate the whole thirty days off thing but now that he was married he absolutely loved it.

“Ah man, you caught me,” (Y/n) responded before looking back up at him again noting the way that his eyelids were droopy and he was clearly struggling to keep his eyes open. “You’re tired,” she said. “What if we take a one hour nap and then head off to a late lunch or something?”

“Actually it’s not good to nap for more than thirty minutes. The ideal time to nap is twenty minutes as after thirty minutes the body will start to retreat into a deeper sleep and that will cause someone to wake more groggy than when they first started sleeping.” Spencer rambled.

“Okay then,” (Y/n) said, reaching for her phone off the bed stand table. “Then we will nap for twenty minutes.” Spencer nodded as she set an alarm before setting the phone back down on the table. She then laid her head back down on his chest and listened to his heartbeat slowly even out. Within about 2 minutes of setting the alarm, he was out like a light while she stared at their bedroom wall drawing lazy circles on his bare skin.

[donotfollowoldacct]

ORDER MEETING ON APRIL 12TH.

DAY:  April 12th, 1982 TIME:  Shortly after midnight LOCATION:  Arabella’s safehouse PURPOSE:  Order meeting to discuss the kidnapping of Harry Potter 

ALBUS calls the attention of the people beginning to gather in Arabella’s living room. Some have apparated onto Wisteria Walk and entered through the front door; others have flooed in through the fireplace in the dining room. “Thank you all for coming,” he says. “As we wait for a few more people to arrive, please help yourself to tea and cookies that Miss Figg has so graciously provided us with. I also ask that you be sensitive considering the events that have recently transpired.”

LILY'S whole body was rigid as she paced in one corner of the living room, though her face was clearly distraught, she had yet to cry.(edited)

JAMES stands, leaning against the wall of very same corner  that Lily occupies. He’s finally stopped crying, but it seems he doesn’t have any words. The room is buzzing, everyone talking about their son, and he doesn’t know how to speak without his frustration seeping through.

ARABELLA sits on her couch, a cup of tea clasped between her hands and her kneazle sitting at her side. Her head is down. Failure sits deep inside her stomach.

MOLLY looks on at the parents who had so recently lost their own. She knows it could have so easily been her own child, that she was lucky that her entire family got out unharmed. She sits down in an unoccupied chair, setting Ron down on her lap. Her older kids were in another room, playing with each other.

REMUS glances at his friends, the emotions evidence in their faces and their body language. He’s never been good at emotions – how to deal with them in himself or others. But he pours a cup of tea and approaches James, silently offering it to him.

ALICE stands rigid in the back, looking at no one. Neville is perched on her hip with her arms wrapped tightly around him. She knows she’s lucky to have him here with her, but isn’t willing to loosen her grip on him. She’s determined to stay quiet - after her last outburst, she can’t trust her words.

SIRIUS came in through the floo with a puff of smoke, straight from St. Mungo’s and full of nervous energy. He flits around the room, grabbing a cookie and some tea before continuing on as if moving would make everything better. Finally, he makes his way over to James, Remus, and Lily, needing the comfort of their presence and hoping his would help as well.

FRANK  stands a small distance away from his wife and his son, who has not left her side since  the night before. His hands are in his pockets, his jaw is clenched, and he stares down at the pile of cookies on the table. Though he wants to provide comfort to James and Lily, he can’t bare to look them in the eyes.

GIDEON stands behind where Molly is sitting, opting to leave the seats for others who need them more. It’s the quietest he’s been before a meeting and he resists the urge to make a lighthearted comment as he grabs some cookies and takes his spot again.

EDGAR Upon hearing the news, Edgar and Greta apparate to Arabella’s safe house. They part shortly after entering, each busying themselves in their own ways. After short greetings, Edgar has taken to lingering in the corner and waiting.

GRETA arrives with her husband, attempting to send weak smiles to anyone she makes eye contact with. It’s too much to hope that she can provide some sort of comfort in the light of such news so she settles for murmuring greetings at anyone she walks past. She takes up a place next to Edgar, anxious for news.

BENJY all but barged in, having apparated from St. Mungo’s as soon as he heard the news.  Guilt at having been… otherwise occupied when it all went down had been gnawing at him, but he shoved it down as he made a beeline for Lily.

LILY shares the briefest of glances with Remus and Sirius though she is yet to be able to look at her husband, as that would be her undoing. Though she was glad the other two were there and able to comfort him. Her heart ached for the girls though she was glad they were safe and away from this heartache. She looked at Sirius suddenly, “You didn’t tell Marlene did you?” She asked, her voice hoarse from remaining silent for so long. When Benjy approached she tried for a small smile though she wasn’t sure if she entirely managed it, “Or you Benjy? Marlene, Mary…they need their rest.”

SIRIUS ran a hand over his face, trying to organize his racing thoughts into coherent sentences. “I was with her when I got the news,” he said, not quite answering the question. “I told her to get some rest and I’d fill her in after, but you know her.”

ALICE raises her head - an immediate mistake - to survey the room out of instinct. Guilt courses through her as her eyes land on a despondent Arabella, remembering her earlier anger; again as they land on Lily and James, who were living the nightmare she had escaped. She quickly turns her head back down where she can see only the floor.

ALBUS surveys the crowd, seeing the most have exchanged their greetings and the trickle of newcomers has stopped. “Thank you again for coming,” he begins. “I know it is late and the day has already been so trying. Some of us are not able to be here because of today’s earlier attack. Yet, Voldemort’s army does not rest. We know that it was a Death Eater responsible for the kidnapping of Harry Potter. We do not know their exact identity nor how they found this location. We also do not know where they’ve taken Harry but we have our suspicions regarding their motives.”

ALBUS motions to Lily. “If you will share what you learned today?”

LILY'S small sigh at Sirius’ response held more exhaustion then she could ever thing possible, and also resignation to the circumstances. She turned to the center of the room when Dumbledore began to speak, she walked over more or less operating on auto pilot until she had a moment to process all of this alone. “This past afternoon – before the attack at the festival, James learned of the identity of one of the Death Eaters. Amycus Carrow, our former classmate and Owner of The Coffin House. He was inebriated at the time, and we saw it as opportunity to apprehend one of them for the first time so that we might be able to get some valuable information from him.” She paused to take a breath though bile rose up burning her throat, she felt slightly sick at the thought of what that decision head now led them to. She didn’t meet the gaze of one person in the room so sure they were all thinking the same. 

 "I slipped him a sleeping drought and apparated the two of us to a safe location. The location is need to know at this time as we have no way of knowing how the information of this location leaked. So other locations may also be at compromise.“ She said a note of bitterness in her voice on that matter, her trust of most of the people in this room and those of them not present having splintered. 

 "Anyhow, I have recorded every word out of Carrow since he awoke on a cassette tape-” She paused to consider most of them didn’t know what that was but she decided it didn’t need explaining right this moment. “Shortly after  we learned of the attack, James went to St. Mungo’s, and we had no other opportunity to thoroughly question him. I arrived here around 11 pm to find Arabella overpowered, and Harry missing. Neville was thankfully unharmed. So it’s safe to assume it was a targeted effort on the part of those that took him. They knew which child they wanted.”

ALBUS nodded. “I do believe that covers what we know, unfortunately. At this point in time, we don’t know what the Death Eaters intend to do with Harry. We suspect they may use him as leverage in the return of Carrow. If you are contacted by anyone you know or suspect is a Death Eater, I ask that you reach out to me post haste.”

“Now,” ALBUS continued, “If anyone has any questions, please feel free to ask.”

GIDEON was getting anxious from all the silence. He knew everyone was tense, but he just felt antsy. “All due respect sir, but what are we doing about this?”

LILY too looked at Dumboldore desperate for that very answer.

MOLLY looked up at her brother from where he was standing behind her. She hadn’t wanted to ask the question, so she was glad someone did. She then turned her attention back to Dumbledore as she wrapped her arms around Ron and pulled him in close

JAMES glances at Gideon, a small shake of his head following. He was so good to have asked that question. James was on the edge of his seat, knowing that if he spoke, it would be of mayhem.

SIRIUS looked immediately to James when Gideon voiced the question they were all wondering. “We’ll figure this out and raise some hell, I promise,” he murmured, voice pitched low.

FRANK felt anger settling in his gut as he listened to Albus and Lily speak. It was foolish of them to apparate a Death Eater into their location, Order member or not. Safe or not. Not when there were procedures for dealing with them - ones he and his wife and other Aurors trained years to handle it. He knew that he had acted brash in his younger years, even had his moments now, but he had tried to act more responsible once he and Alice had Neville. It was hard to swallow the growing anger he felt for them putting his son, and theirs, at risk. He was silent for a moment, trying to control his emotions and get to the task at hand. “Is it your plan to return Carrow?”

ALBUS listened and watched as questions were posed. He smiled softly at Gideon. “Thank you, Prewett. That was a good question. Of course, I ask that all of you keep your eyes open and ears out as this develops. I will reach out to my contacts that are close to the Death Eaters for any knowledge they have. This is what we can do until we know more. But I swear to all of you, and especially to you – Lily and James – that I am doing everything in my power to find Harry. I ask that all of you do the same." 

 He turned his eyes then to Frank. "If that is what it comes to, yes. Harry’s return is more important than whatever information we have yet extracted from Carrow.”

JAMES could feel the fury building in his stomach as Dumbledore spoke and he couldn’t help but push himself off the wall to speak, unable to keep his fire down any longer. “With all due respect sir, that’s not enough,” he said, hand clenching and unclenching into a fist by his side. “I know I can’t just… sit by and wait for my son to be returned to me. I bloody won’t.” Now that his outburst had gained the attention of the whole room he had to think on his feet. What could they do? 

 "A task force,“ he said, thinking out-loud. "I’d like to assemble a task force to look for–” He couldn’t even say his son’s name at this point and instead sucked in a deep breath of air, desperation in his eyes.  He finally looked to Lily, hoping to get her support on this one. “Please.”

ALICE was watching the room intensely, trying to gauge everyone’s reactions. The questions asked, Dumbledore’s response, and finally James’s declaration. Her eyes flicked to their son in her arms and, finally, to her husband. Her gaze moved on just as quickly. If it came down to it, she would join that task force in a heart beat. “He’s right, sir. Every single minute counts.” They learned that the hard way on the job. “We can’t wait for information to come to us - we have to find it. Maybe Carrow…” she trailed off. Maybe he was their best bargaining chip, or maybe he knew something they needed.

LILY’S brows pulled together in a furrow at the answer that she could feel none of them were satisfied by least of all her and James. She reach out and took her James hand and squeezed it lightly for herself, or for him she didn’t know. “Maybe Carrow knows who among them is usually responsible for this sort of thing, or perhaps who among us is compromised.” She said firmly, finishing Alice’s thought, in clear agreement. Right now she had no problem going to every extreme to get her baby back.

ALBUS sighed. “And what do you wish to do with your task force? Where will you look? How will you find information? Do you intend to storm every pureblood manor in search of him?” he asked. “I understand the need to do as much as possible. As we have Carrow, there is no reason not to interrogate him for possible leads. But recklessness is not the answer. Looking in the wrong place could get yourselves hurt, could get Harry hurt even if he isn’t there, and could also get you in trouble with the Ministry.”

MOLLY could feel the anger boiling in her. She couldn’t help but to put herself in Lily and James’ position. “This is a child we’re talking about.” She looked at Dumbledore, not wanting to look at James or Lily in fear of dissolving into angry, panicked tears.

GRETA had stayed quiet for a while, taking all the information in. Eventually she spoke up, trying to keep her voice level but she knew it was more pleading than anything. “Surely we can find some sort of compromise? We can’t just do nothing.”

SIRIUS felt restless, the need to do anything causing his expression to twist into something dark and dangerous, an expression he usually wore before he did something reckless. “Storming every pureblood manor isn’t a half bad idea. Between us we know where all of them are, anyways.”

JAMES couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at Sirius’ words. Of course, it came out sounding more like a wheeze, his throat sore from crying, but he appreciated that Sirius was always on his side; always ready to tear down the walls. “I think it’s fairly obvious we’re not just going to sit here,” he said, meeting Dumbledore’s eyes, strong even though he felt like he was breaking. “Greta’s right. We have to find some kind of compromise.”

Even when she could’ve look at him, FRANK knew that he and his wife were on the same page. They needed to act quickly, but wisely. Another mistake, like kidnapping someone without a true plan, would only cause more harm. “Carrow needs to be interrogated.” The word properly didn’t follow, but it was what he meant. Frank knew that James and Lily were doing what they could - and might’ve gotten useful information. But they needed wizards trained in which questions to ask. He looked at Alice, at their son in her arms, and quickly glanced at James and Lily before Greta spoke. “We need to follow any leads we have.” His attention changed to Sirius, where he folded his arms across his chest. “Members are already injured. We have to have a plan.”

“I have no intention to do nothing and I am not asking any of you to either,” ALBUS said. “But we must be careful in handling this lest we hurt Harry unintentionally.”

“Do you have a plan, Albus?” FRANK asked, needing to know how in the dark they were about Harry’s disappearance.

ALBUS nodded. “We interrogate Carrow. We ask the contacts we have. And we keep ourselves alert in case they reach out to negotiate an exchange. If you have other suggestions, please enlighten us. But accosting suspected Death Eaters or storming their homes will only hurt us and him.”

ALICE knew that Dumbledore was right. Acting recklessly may ruin any chance that remained for successfully retrieving Harry. They needed to be carefully, to bide their time, but that felt utterly impossible. A child was missing, two parents missing their heart. Alice could only imagine the feelings they felt, since she hadn’t fully experienced them herself and yet the strength of them made her lose control. “We have to be careful. If they catch onto us, they have a huge bargaining piece.” She referred to Harry without his name. “Do you have tasks for each of us? We could use the auror department’s resources.” Again, she referred to Frank without his name.

The meeting was slowly devolving into chaos and LILY felt herself growing tenser at James’ side. The cogs in her mind spun as she systematically tried to compartmentalize her emotions and the information they had available to find the right course of actions. This was what she knew how to do, the only way she could remain in control of herself if she separated herself from her worries and focused that emotion into action. 

 "First thing tomorrow morning, I will prepare the most effective truth serum known to be fed to Carrow. Alice and Frank will you please oversee the questioning. It was out mistake not to involve you before making the decision in haste. James and Sirius can lead an investigative task force overseen by Alastor, his contacts will prove invaluable. You cannot storm every home because Dumboldore is right that would be counter productive and could lead to detrimental consequences.“ She said with a pointed look at Sirius. "What you can do is follow any contacts of Alastor’s that might have any information on Death Eater business. Narrow down all known common associates of Carrow as it’s very much likely that those close to him are as involved as he is. Anyone willing and able to join James and Sirius please do." 

 "Furthermore, this home is forfeit, and until proper arrangements can be made I would request one of you whom are able to allow Arabella to stay with you.”

EDGAR raises his head, eyes landing on the figure lost among the scuffle of voices. Until now, he’s been an observer, offering nods or grunts of agreement, but largely giving the floor to those most heavily involved. Still, he is eager to help however he can, especially given the uncertainty that has clouded the room. He clears his throat casting a glance at his wife for confirmation. “Arabella is welcome to stay with Greta and I, we’ve an extra room.”

JAMES would’ve looked at his wife in awe, but he was too busy focusing on the rising wave of tears that had followed her plan. Always like Lily, to be the one to set the sure path. He squeezed her hand tightly, and unable to stop himself, kissed her cheek softly. They may not be able to look in each other’s eyes, but that didn’t mean James wasn’t there. He’d always be there.

ALICE tensed briefly. Where would they leave Neville while they conducted the interrogation? Who would be able to keep him safe anymore? Still, she relented those fears to confirm, “of course. We’ll be able to extract as much information as possible.   We… we won’t let you down, Lily. James.” She nodded towards both of them. Her words were for both her and her husband, yet she still hadn’t spoken to him directly since they all appeared.

GRETA nodded as her husband looked to her. “Of course. And if we can do anything else let us know.” She wanted to help so desperately, her heart aching for Lily and James, but perhaps the matter was better left to those who were far more qualified to deal with it than she was. A small smile was sent Lily’s way along with another nod of agreement, fully behind the logistics that had been laid out.

REMUS had sat back, lips shut as he struggled to keep up with the conflict. He didn’t have solid ideas. But as Lily laid out a plan that stood out above the rest, he nodded. “I’ll help, however.” He thought about contacting the werewolves he knew, although considering how little they’d given him so far he feared it wouldn’t be much.

ARABELLA looked up from her lap, watery eyes turned towards Greta and Edgar. Her kneazle shoved its head into the side of her arm. “Thank you,” she whispered. Any louder and her voice would’ve cracked.

ALBUS smiled although it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you, Lily. It seems we’re an agreement then. Unless anyone has more to input, then I think we can call this meeting adjourned.”

MOLLY looked down the sleeping boy in her arms, wanting to do anything in her power to help everyone involved. “The Burrow is always open,” she said as she, for the first time since the meeting started, looked around at everyone in the meeting. “If anyone needs anything, don’t be afraid to ask.”

With the rush of adrenaline that came with putting up that brave front having passed, LILY sunk into James side a bit hoping it wasn’t entirely visible how completely broken she felt in that moment, because no matter the plan no matter how solid it all felt, despite their most outstanding efforts she would still be returning home empty handed, her child lost to the mercy of monsters.

[not-a-gotham-villain]

Part 2

TW: Death, Extreme violence, slight swearing, Guns, Kinves

(i cant do under the cut on mobile so be ready to scroll sorry..)

Her broken Jaguar mask works surprisingly well considering what it's been through. Perhaps it's because whoever sees her face now doesn't live to tell the tale. She can only think of one time anyone got away alive seeing her face over the past Three days.

She had walked her way into the iceberg lounge an hour before penguin hightailed it out because her tip line had gone cold and she could feel how close she was to finding Falcone. Needless to say, Penguin was not happy to see her.

"Ah, Jaguar! Long time no see my dear!" His voice was condescending and his men were armed. "I've heard you've caused quite ruckus all around town recently. Any reason you've stopped by?"

"Buzz off Penguin. I'm not here to kill your goons."

"Character development." Nygma quipped. He was seriously unnecessary and proved to test Jade's already thin patience.

"I just need information. My wells gone... dry." she ground out.

Penguin huffed a laugh before he relaxed his guards and gestured Jade to sit next to him. She refused.

"Falcones at 213 30 Primrose street. Red warehouse."

".....how did you know who i was after?" Jade asked.

"Because i've worked with you since you were definitely not 17, and the only person you ever talked about was him. I did the math."

Jade's eyes narrowed as she collected her things. "You aren't gonna try and stop me, are you?"

Penguin laughed, a little bitterly, a little mockingly. "I'm not sentimental dearie. I will say though," his face got deadly serious then "that his son's died. You two are the only ones left."

Jade stared at penguin for a bit before heading for the door.

"Just for the record, Im sorry Jade. I truly am. Most of us had no idea." Penguin said it a way so plaintively he could have almost mean it.

Jade slammed the door shut on her way out.

☠︎

Falcone's private room security is painfully understaffed. A single man, a whisp really, stands outside his office door.

"What's your name kid?"

Jade resents that.

"Jade Dawes."

"Really? Ya know that used to be a DA's name. Till we bumped him and his family off. You knew him?"

Jade really resents that.

"A little."

He gives her a look before searching through a clipboard, as if Falcone was a legitimate buissness man and not a Class-S Mob Boss. Jesus, she was already planning on killing the guy but he's just making it too easy.

"You got an appointment?"

"Yeah. Five years in the making."

"Wha-"

The silenced bullet goes cleanly through airheads brain. She wasn't really planning on killing him, but everyone else in the buildings dead, so she guesses due diligence won't hurt.

The door opens as millions of others close.

"Janessa. Pleasant surprise. Please do sit down." The man who says the name she hasn't heard in five years looks the same now as he did then. Falcone is still tall, and lean, and his voice still reminds her of beach houses in the summer, before her father had found out about his job and their lives had gone to hell.

"I'm not here to talk Uncle Carmine." She hopes the title comes off as mocking. From the way he reacts, it does. "You know what I'm here for."

Falcone stares at her for a few more seconds before he sighs deep and turns away from his windowed perch towards her.

"Will this" he gestures to her aimed gun with his bourbon "really accomplish what you want Janessa?"

"It doesn't matter what I want." She lies "Its what you deserve." He's far enough away so that she doesn't need to strain her head too much to see his face.

"We are the only ones left little one. Your family is long gone. So is my wife. Mario died Saturday night. If you were to do this, you would be all alone." He's taking languid steps her way, and with each one she feels smaller and younger.

"You killed my family Carmine." She sets her jaw in determination.

"And your family locked away mine, an eye for an eye my dear."

"You shot them right in front of me! You burnt their bodies in a pile! I can't even go near restaurants without -"

She cuts herself off, her voice beginning to shake.

"Piccola, that is why we must start over. Live a new life. Be like my daughter again. Don't you remember how it could be?"

Unbidden, memories of a lifetime ago crop up. She remembers sitting silently at the beach, just seven years old, watching as uncle Carmine taught her how to make a drip sand castle. She remembers thinking he was the greatest man she'd ever seen, right after her dad. Her heart sinks.

"That-that can't happen now. We're-it's-it's all too far gone." Falcone is right up in front of her now. She feels seven years old again next to his six foot three.

He sighs again, and places a hand on her shoulder. She thinks she might cry.

"Well then my dear, do you think we should get it all done with together? After all, what did you have planned for after you killed me?" He points his gun to her temple and her gun to his own.

Jade is silent. Her head is racing. She needs to decide.

Needless to say, she doesn't get to.

Glass shatters everyone, and Falcone is pushed out of her line of sight by something large and black. Upon further inspection she realizes it's Batman. If Jade was in any physical or emotional capacity to she would scream.

"Get away from her you slimy bastard!"

They tussle for a while, a second, a minute, an hour, forty days and forty nights? She can't tell. However eventually Falcone's gun is confiscated by the more powerful Batman and the former is left slumped on the floor, defeated.

"You should let her decide who to go with, Dark Knight." They must have had some important conversation about Jade's autonomy while she was out.

The Bat tenses again, starting at the hands and working up to his temple and then down again. It's strange, being able to see the Batman in full detail. She never got to catalog his responses to jabs or taunts. Yes, she's worked with Batman before, but at the time he was more concerned with Tori's stubborn demands to join then properly introducing himself to Jade. (The green beast whose name she refuses to say spins in her stomach at a very inconvenient time)

"Fine." The Batman spits out. "Jade, what do you want to do?" His voice is paradoxically soft and terse.

"How—how did you find me?" It's not what she meant to say, but it works. "Were-were you tracking me?!"

The responding silence should make her feel indignant, however she is also feeling very overwhelmed.

"He does that often piccola, no respect for personal privacy." Falcone makes no effort to move, slumped up against the wall. His arm is covering his stomach, he's bleeding.

"You stabbed him!" Jade's voice comes out more panicked then she wanted.

"Come here la mia piccola farfalla."

"Jade.." Batman says.

Jade ignores him.

"Zio.." her italian's a little rusty, but she seems to get the message across.

"Listen my little butterfly. We must move on from this." He places a calloused hand on her cheek. "My empire is all but collapsed now, thanks in part to you. Come with me, we can rebuild in Italy, or perhaps just live. You can find a good husband and settle down. I could finally have grandchildren. Please, let me be your Uncle again."

Jade is shaking like a leaf now and she prays she isn't going to cry. "I can't Zio, not after what you did."

Falcone sighs "Well, thats alright, I was going to die anyways."

Jade feels more than see's the knife slip out of his pocket. She acts on instinct, and before Batman can say anything there are three shots ringing out into the night.

Falcones hand goes limp, and falls to the floor.

Jade does the only thing she can do in this situation. She screams.

☠︎

Jade can't tell how long she screamed before she started to sob, but it must have been a long time, because she doesn't get her senses back until she's speeding down an avenue in the Batcar.

She thinks she remember him carrying her. Is she really that light now? She must be, she cant remember the last time she ate.

"Ah. You're awake. I'm getting you to your apartment, but I'm going to be stripping it out. All your identifying objects need to go, otherwise the gangs will track you."

Batman wont look at her, but she thinks he looks the tiredest she's ever seen him.

"Why?" she can't form anymore words than that. He seems to understand.

"With the stunt you've pulled over the last few days, the crime families will be worse than ever trying to fix themselves up, and they'll be aching for blood. So no more Vigilante work of any sort, no more crime, hell, don't go out without asking me first. I'll set up an allowance so you can quit your job, and I'll drop off some old clothes of the robins for you to wear. Jaguar and NightFawn are dead, you hear me?"

She sits silently, taking in the new information. She can't feel anything.

"Am I adopted?"

Batman laughs. "Not exactly." They pull up to her apartment complex's fire escapes. "You're almost home." He walks out of the drivers side and circles over to pick Jade up out of the passengers seat. She'd be embarrassed if she wasn't so empty.

"I don't have a home." She says. She's still crying, she doesn't know why.

"You will one day kid, you will."

[kumkaniudaku]

Rough Patch: Three

ONE. COUPLES THERAPY. 

Warnings: Smut (18+ Content)

Word Count: 3,416

Friday morning came on the heels of another night of separation.

Thursday ended with exponentially more conversation as Chadwick and Tasha maneuvered around the kitchen at the same time making small talk, but when the stars began to twinkle in the night sky and the desire for sleep took over, husband and wife went to separate bedrooms after exchanging timid good nights.

A two-room divide did little to sever the emotional ties to each other as they spent hours tossing and turning with thoughts of the next morning. Chadwick wondered if what he had planned would be enough to recapture his wife’s attention, and Tasha replayed her mental reminder to trust her husband and allow him to lead.

By the next morning, Tasha was up and moving long before she had planned to keep her mind busy until Chadwick was ready to start the day. Her thoughts completely consumed her as she loaded the dryer with bedsheets and she missed the heavy feet beating against the floor in her direction.

“Hey, I-”

His abrupt greeting startled Tasha into an involuntary yelp as she clutched her chest to stabilize her breathing. Chadwick chuckled and leaned against the door frame to wait for her to calm down.

“Yeah, just laugh it up. You almost killed me before the sun could even get all the way in the sky.”

“Sorry, Co. I came up to tell you that breakfast is ready and that you look really pretty this morning.”

“Really,” she questioned before quickly checking herself. It didn’t matter if she was clad in a loose fitting, spaghetti strapped nightgown. If he thought she looked pretty, there was no reason to challenge him. “Wait don’t count that one. I meant to say thank you.”

“I’ll let you slide this time. Now c’mon. Your omelet is getting cold.”

Tasha’s eyebrows lifted at the mention of her second favorite breakfast dish, yet she pushed the questions she had to the back of her mind to follow Chadwick downstairs.

“I know I don’t cook as well as you, but I tried to make your favorites. There’s French toast, that spinach omelet you like, sausage patties, and strawberries that I had to fight an old lady to get the other day.” As he explained the spread laid out on the kitchen island, she stood behind him in silence.

“You hate it, don’t you? Too many carbs? I didn’t even think about that.”

“What? No! It’s perfect. Thank you...again.”

“You don’t have to keep saying thank you, Co,” he reassured in the midst of pulling flatware and plates from their holding spaces.

“I know, but I want to because I mean it. You could’ve said no to all of this and left, but you’re still here.”

Rounding the counter, Chadwick shrugged as he sat the plates on the table, “For the record, I never had any intentions to leave. We gon’ figure this out.”

Chadwick’s admission made Tasha smile behind her coffee mug. She couldn’t tell if she was grateful that her husband had no intentions of abandoning their union or proud that they had spent 10 minutes conversing without jumping down each other’s throat.

The conversation soon tapered into the soft scrape of utensils against the breakfast plates. Both of them strategically stole glances at each other in the silence, picking a new feature to mentally praise.

“So, I was thinking,” Chadwick started between bites of his final piece of french toast. “I want to date you if that’s okay.”

“Date me? We’re married, Aaron.”

“I know, I know, but we never got the chance to really date. I want to get to know you again if that’s okay. I think it’ll help us remember what we’re supposed to be doing.”

From the pleading look in his deep brown eyes, it was clear that the notion of dating despite being married was important to Chadwick.

“Okay. Let’s date.” Tasha watched Chadwick’s smile spread across his entire face for the first time in a long time as he danced in his chair. “When is our first date? What should I wear?”

“I’d say you look beautiful already. This my favorite night thing of yours.”

“Woah! Hold up. Are you saying this was our first date?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. We have to make up for lost time today, so I have a couple more planned before the day is over. How does dinner and dessert after we finish watching Luther and giving each other pedicures sound?”

“We’re gonna give each other pedicures? As in I have to touch your feet?”

“Hell yeah! You thought you were the only one that likes nice toes?”

Silence engulfed the room before the couple shared loud laughter that no longer felt foreign. This is the relationship they remembered and were determined to get back to.

“Alright, then. Dinner and feet. I like it. Anything else?”

“That’s it for now,” He smiled over his shoulder on the way to the kitchen sink. “Go hang out in the living room and I’ll join you after I clean the kitchen.”

Under Chadwick’s direction, CoCo found herself nervously fidgeting with whatever she could get her hands on while she waited for him to join her on the couch. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous but felt her apprehension melt away once their second date of the day began.

Every moment after he took his spot on the other end of the couch and draped the blanket over their bodies felt magical. Their commitment to getting to know each other in a way that they had never explored resulted in revelations neither of them could imagine.

Chadwick learned that during Tasha’s stay in Atlanta she taught herself how to bake and found that she really enjoyed the activity despite gaining weight from “taste testing.” CoCo was shocked to learn the origin story behind Chadwick’s decision to switch to a plant-based lifestyle, citing a Facebook video his cousin tagged him in as the catalyst for his new diet. As each activity passed, the brick wall that they had built in four months came undone brick by brick.

A trip to the grocery store to purchase the necessary for what Chadwick considered a plant-based soul food dinner presented the couple with an old friend they hadn’t expected and old feelings that needed to be confronted.

“It’s so crazy that we saw your ex,” CoCo laughed before glancing at Chadwick as he settled onto the floor on the other side of the coffee table to begin his meal. “Especially considering, you know...what we’re going through.”

“I mean, I guess it’s kind of crazy. I wasn’t paying much attention to her to be honest.”

Tasha shrugged before turning her attention to her cell food, “I hear you. She looked nice. Really pretty actually.”

“She did, but I’m on focused on one person right now.” Chadwick watched Tasha look up at him for confirmation, prompting him to drop his utensils and grab her hands.

“I need you to know that I have not and will not stop loving you. Have I been pissed at you? Yes,” he laughed. “But you will always have my love. We’re going to figure this out, and in ten years when we’re listening to our kids play in the next room, we’ll remember this moment and know that we can overcome whatever shit gets thrown our way.”

The tears building in the corners of her eyes betrayed Tasha and trickled down her cheeks to be wiped away with the pad of Chadwick’s thumb.

“Dammit! I didn’t mean to cry tonight. Who cries on the fifth date?”

“I guess it depends on the context. I’ve had women cry by the fifth date. Usually sooner.”

Chadwick’s cheeky grin contrasted CoCo’s shocked expression and light gasp. “Aaron! I hope you don’t expect me to let you at it so quickly.”

“Expect? No. Am I hoping for at least a hug tonight? Definitely.”

“A hug, huh,” she questioned before stuffing a forkful of steamed kale into her mouth. “I think I can do a hug. We’ll see.”

“I can live with that.”

What Tasha didn’t know was the mere promise of physical contact had Chadwick’s heart racing at unsafe levels. Of the two of them, he was the one that craved physical intimacy. He’d long lost count of the nights he spent trying to relieve himself of the pent up energy to no avail. He needed skin to skin contact but was willing to wait until the time was right for both of them.

Dinner progressed faster than they desired, leading to a joint effort to clean the kitchen while they laughed and joked about moments from their time in school. But, even that activity came to an end before they were ready, and soon, the trek upstairs to their bedrooms commenced.

Chadwick walked Tasha to her door like a teenage boy would do after the prom, contemplating if he should make the move for the hug or let his wife dictate the pace.

“Well, I guess this is it,” he sighed as he turned to face her. “I had a lot of fun with you today. Maybe I could get your number or…”

“Or I could just see you downstairs for breakfast in the morning. My treat?”

“Wow, a sixth date! I’d say we were going steady.”

“Going steady,” she questioned with a smile. “I think it’s called going together these days.”

“I’ll take either one as long as we’re exclusive.”

“I like the sound of being exclusive.” Lost in their own world, they stood staring and smiling at each other as all trace of reality disappeared. This was the feeling they were missing. This is the version of themselves that they knew still existed beneath the turmoil. Sudden realization ended the moment and produced a harsh curse as CoCo pressed her palm against her forehead. “Shit! I forgot to make the bed earlier.”

“I can help you,” Chadwick blurted before he could catch himself. “I mean, you know, the bed is pretty big. It’s gonna be hard to...I’m talking too much. Sorry.”

“You’re saying just enough. I’ll have you in and out pretty quick. That sounded terrible.”

“It didn’t sound nearly as bad as you think. Trust me.”

CoCo missed the innuendo as she shuffled into the bedroom absorbed in her own thoughts. Chadwick trailed behind, taking in the space that he hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. He was surprised to find all of his belongings in their original spots, including the pillows he left behind. He noticed the smell of his second favorite cologne lingering in the air and he wondered if his notion that she had sprayed it on the sheets before drying was true.

“I guess this would be a perfect time to let you lead, so...where should we start? Aaron. Chadwick!”

“Huh? I-I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay? If you don’t want to help it’s fine.”

“No,” he exclaimed. “I just- have you been spraying my cologne? It smells just like the one I left in here.”

“What can I say? I like the smell. I like it more when it’s attached to someone, but I make do.”

Chadwick eyed her from his side of the bed with a smile, taking pride in the fact that she still thought about him in his absence.

Tasha hated the way Chadwick made the bed and, in the past, would change it the moment he was no longer around. He knew this information and made it a point to incorporate the methods she liked to make her comfortable with following his lead. In ten short minutes, they were playfully tossing pillows to each other before meeting up at the foot of the bed to admire their work.

“We make a good team, huh,” Tasha smiled as she playfully bumped into Chadwick’s arm to draw a quiet laugh from him. “I guess this is good night.”

“I guess it is.”

“Well…” An awkward bout of silence consumed them as CoCo contemplated her next move. “Can I hug you? You know...as a thank you?”

“Sure. Of course!”

The hug started with a tentative touch. Tasha carefully stepped forward to wrap her arms around Chadwick’s midsection while he slowly pulled her closer and rested his chin on her head.

In any other situation, hugging a person for such an extended amount of time can be strange, but neither of them felt put off by the show of affection. Being in such close proximity felt natural and needed. Muscles relaxed and breathing slowed their racing hearts as they held each other and gently swayed from side to side.

Tension didn’t return until they pulled away to look at each other. This was a new tension; a familiar tension. This was the tension they felt on their wedding night, or after their first encounter in this very room.

Chadwick’s hand rose to trace Tasha’s jaw with a feather-soft touch as he examined her reaction. Her eyes closed at the contact and she seemed to stop breathing until a set of lips came in contact with hers. A short kiss by most standards carried all of the latent passion and desire that they’d carried for four months. Their bodies became pressed together as he flattened his palm against the small of her back to bring them closer.

When they pulled apart hoping that their thirst for the other was quenched, they found that they had only added lighter fluid to the fire.

“I love you.”

Three words said simultaneously by two people destined to be together. Previous feelings came rushing in to charge the special moment with a whirlwind of energy.

Their lips connected again in a more feverish kiss as Chadwick moved their bodies back to the bench at the end of the bed. Tasha allowed her husband to move them at his pace as she settled onto his lap with her knees on either side of his hips. With every sigh of content or soft graze of flesh against flesh, apprehension transformed into desire.

Reaching between their bodies, Tasha attempted to undo Chadwick’s belt only to be stopped.

“What? What did I do?”

“If we’re going to do this, I want it to be the right way, not just because we haven’t touched each other in a while.”

“So you don’t want this,” Tasha asked, disappointment evident in her delivery.

“I think you can feel how much I want this,” he laughed as he gestured below his waist. “But I don’t want to be done and go back to hating each other the next day. Let’s do it the way we should have the first time. I promise I can get us there if you’ll trust me.”

Settling back into his lap, Tasha’s natural inclination to take control had been tested all day and she hadn’t spontaneously combusted. Now was the moment that she could make significant change or recoil into her shell.

“Tell me what to do.”

Chadwick expressed his gratitude with a chaste kiss to her knuckles before anchoring his hands on her waist. “I think we should explore each other. Forget what we think we know and take time to reintroduce ourselves intimately. You mind if I…”

His request trailed off with a gesture toward the hem of her dress.

“Sure. Should I stand?” A simple head nod set off the next chain of events as she moved to stand in front of him.

With laser focus, Chadwick carefully lifted her midi tank top dress over her head in his own quest to stand, leaving her nearly nude body exposed to him. She followed his example by helping him out of his t-shirt and jeans.

Hand and mouths began to wander as they took their time with each other. Tasha traced her name on Chadwick’s shoulder blades over and over while he nipped and sucked at the available skin on her neck and chest. His arms held her close to his body as he led them to his side of the bed and carefully placed her on her back against the cool sheets. Normally he would have engaged in a race against time to disrobe and consume his wife, but he was committed to the process of taking his time.

Every inch of skin that he touched, licked and kissed became hot with building anticipation. He started with her lips and worked his way down, visiting his favorite spots along the way. His pit stop at the birthmark above her navel set Tasha on fire as she began to squirm in his grasp.

“You asked me if I still wanted you,” he spoke against her inner thigh, fanning his warm breath against the rising goosebumps in the area. “I want you in every way possible. I’ve had you mentally and emotionally today. Allow me to have you physically tonight.”

“I’m yours.” CoCo was surprised at how her voice came out in a small whisper but felt so loud in the moment.

She was nervous as if this were her first time with any man, much less her husband. Sensing her apprehension, Chadwick whispered for her relax into the meat of her thigh before hooking his index fingers around the top of her panties and working them down her legs.

Neither of them knew what they expected their first intimate moment post “storm” would be like, but it paled in comparison to the events unfolding in front of them.

Chadwick was attentive with his actions, taking time to build up a steady pace and listen to the way Tasha responded with her mouth and body. Breathless gasps turned into little mewls until her moans were loud enough to be heard in the furthest corner of the house.

He soothed her through a quick orgasm before going back for more, purposefully drawing out her second for his pleasure more than hers. It took CoCo physically cupping his face to pull his mouth to hers to bring him up for air and taste herself wherever her mouth landed.

“Are you comfortable with more? I don’t mind-”

“Please. I am begging at this point. I need you.”

“Yeah?” It felt good to hear that his wife, the woman he loved no matter the circumstances, wanted him the way he wanted her. His cheesy grin was matched by Tasha as she nodded and moved to help him discard his last piece of clothing.

Tasha was eager to make room for her man between her legs as they shifted toward the head of the bed. Their lips never parted as they shared the most passionate kiss in recent memory, keeping CoCo relaxed until Chadwick began to join his body with hers.

“Oh,” she panted as he sank deeper into her love. “...God!”

“Am I hurting you?”

“Not at all. Just...go slow.”

Carefully he worked into a pace and rhythm she could handle, joining her chorus of moans with groans and breathless whispers of praise in her ear. Physically, this was the closest they could get and it still didn’t feel close enough.

As the intensity built into a cacophony of sounds of pleasure, Chadwick intertwined their fingers above his wife’s head.

“Look at me,” he requested through gritted teeth. Tasha’s eyes remained closed until he slowed his thrusts to a near stop and asked again. “I need you to look at me.”

She obliged despite the tears blurring her vision, feeling almost unworthy of his doting gaze. What felt like the most intense moment of her lifetime was dialed up several notches as they sought out their releases together. Utterances of undying love became broken moans and audible shudders until husband and wife came with booming shouts that filled the room to the brim.

Sweat and exhaustion couldn’t keep Chadwick and Tasha away from each other as they rushed to kiss each other while the last sparks of euphoria coursed through their bodies.

Tucking his nose into the crook of her neck, Chadwick fought to catch his breath and speak.

“I think you should sleep in here tonight.”

“Can I sleep in here tonight?”

Chadwick lifted his head to nuzzle his nose against Tasha’s as she rubbed patterns at the nape of his neck.

Neither of them had any desire to leave the cocoon of sheets and love around them, so they didn’t.

Because this time good night carried the promise of a good morning.

                                    ______________

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[riostm]

            i  told  myself  i  wouldn’t  do  this  but  ...  ig  i  just  have  no  self - control  left  fkgjnfgkj  but  anyway  10  years  later  i’m  excited  to  introduce  u  all  to  sam    !    he’s  a  revamp  of  an  old  muse  of  mine    &    if  u  would  like  to  plot  w  him  just  press  that  heart  or  hit  me  up  on  my  discord  @𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝖊𝖉𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖉#0369    !

❛ chicago’s very own samuel ríos has been spotted in new york city in a  bmw 330e saloon , welcome ! your resemblance to josh heuston is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-third birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re meticulous , but being debonair might help you . i guess being a leo explains that . three things that would paint a better picture of you would be sleepy morning voice, messy sheets & an unmade bed, poetry at midnight .   &   ( cismale & he/him )     +   ( lina, twenty-one, she/her, gmt. )

                  trigger  warnings  :  mentions  of  death  ,  a  house  fire  .

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋  𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄    :    samuel    (    name  of  god    )    adam    (    to  be  red    )    ríos    (    river    )    .

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒    :    sam  ,  sammie  .

𝐀𝐆𝐄    :    twenty - three  .

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘    :    july  25th  .

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂    :    leo  .

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘    :    american  .

𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘    :    portuguese  sri  lankan  .

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘    :    bisexual  .

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍    :    swimmer  .

𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐒    :    the  jocular  ,  the  vagabond  ,  the  aquaphile  .

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒    :    portuguese  ,  spanish  ,  english  .

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒    :    bare  feet  in  mornings  ,  neatly  folded  clothes  ,  an  organised  shoe  closet  ,  messy  sheets    &    an  unmade  bed  ,  missed  calls  at  2am  ,  highlighted  passages  in  a  book  ,  dogeared  pages  ,  unanswered  texts  ,  tucked  in  shirts  ,  unfinished  books  ,  warm  tea  ,  warm  jumpers  from  dryer  ,  odd  ceramic  mugs  ,  hidden  springs  of  water  ,  worn  out  military  boots  ,  fallen  leaves  during  autumn  ,  poetry  at  midnight  ,  sleepy  morning  voice  ,  unsent  letters  ,  an  ice  cold  water  bottle  .

*    𝒃𝒊𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒚    .

              𝐈𝐓    𝐖𝐀𝐒    𝐎𝐍    𝐀    warm  day  when  they  met  .  in  the  sunny  city  of  lisbon  ,  portugal  ,  danilo  ríos    &    kalani  perera  once  sat  down  on  a  faded  bench  in  the  middle  of  the  city  centre  ,  talking  about  the  weather  which  eventually  led  to  talking  about  a  date  .  needless  to  say  ,  the  pair  hit  it  off  rather  well  .  after  the  success  of  their  first  date  ,  they  soon  went  on  a  second    &    after  what  felt  like  no  time  at  all  ,  they  were  helplessly    &    in  this  case  ,  incredibly  in  love  .  it  was  only  a  short  few  months  later  that  they  were  engaged  ,    &    not  too  long  after  that  ,  they  were  married    &    happily  so  .  it  seemed  almost  too  perfect  .  they  had  a  house  ,  a  very  stable  income  due  to  danilo’s  hotel  resorts  he  had  dotted  about  everywhere  ,    &    after  a  test  was  taken  ,  kalani  was  said  to  be  pregnant  .

of  course  ,  things  were  almost  too  perfect  ,  there  was  bound  to  be  a  bump  in  the  road  somewhere  .  they  were  pregnant    ;    they’re  not  sure  how  anything  could  go  wrong  .  until  it  did  .  the  pregnancy  ,  although  one  of  the  best  thing  they  could  ever  imagine  to  happen  to  them  ,  turned  out  to  be  very  tumultuous  with  more  problems  than  a  little  .  kalani  was  admitted  to  the  hospital  more  times  than  a  little    &    doctor’s  worried  that  the  baby  would  be  born  before  full  term  .  expectantly  ,  their  fears  were  correct  .  two  months  into  the  last  trimester  ,  two  weeks  before  full  time  ,  kalani  went  into  premature  labour    &    gave  birth  to  a  bouncing  baby  boy  .

the  labour  was  bad  as  it  was    ;    the  baby  struggled  to  get  out    &    it  was  within  a  split  second  that  he  managed  to  get  out  breathing  .  kalani  ,  however  ,  wasn’t  so  successful  .  almost  immediately  after  her  son  was  born  ,  she  began  haemorrhaging    &    although  the  doctors  tried  their  hardest  to  stop  the  bleeding  ,  there  wasn’t  very  much  they  can  do  .  it  was  on  july  25th  1995  passed  away  ,  safe  in  the  knowledge  that  her  baby  boy  was  healthy    &    breathing  .  it  was  a  hard  few  first  months    ;    the  baby  boy  ,  who’s  father  had  yet  to  pick  an  name  for  him  spent  the  first  month  of  his  life  in  an  incubator  ,  then  after  that  danilo  grieved  the  passing  of  his  of  his  beloved  wife  .

despite  the  grievance  that  meant  danilo  was  unable  to  take  care  of  his  child  ,  who  still  had  no  name  for  the  first  couple  of  months  that  he  was  home  .  instead  ,  the  baby  boy  was  left  in  the  care  of  a  nanny  while  danilo  was  lost  in  his  grief  .  then  suddenly  ,  something  changed  .  danilo  became  less  robotic    &    more  like  a  person  again  ,    &    found  it  in  himself  to  take  care  of  his  child  ,  the  only  thing  he  had  left  of  his  wife  .  of  course  ,  it  still  hurt  to  think  of  her  but  he  had  other  things  to  think  about  .  things  like  the  beautiful  baby  with  bright  green  eyes  ,  who  he  had  decided  to  name  samuel  .

samuel  was  a  bouncing  baby  boy  ,  an  energetic  child  who  ,  when  growing  up  had  everything  handed  to  him  on  a  silver  platter  .  but  he  appreciated  it    ;    he  appreciated  everything  his  father  gave  him  ,  including  every  place  they  visited  for  his  father’s  business  .  as  sam  grew  up  ,  his  father’s  company  built  up  hundreds  of  resorts  across  the  world    &    became  more  profitable    &    respected  each  year  .  but  his  father  ,  being  a  dedicated  businessman  as  well  as  a  doting  father  wanted  to  mix  his  work  life  with  his  family  life  ,    &    so  sam  was  home  schooled  for  the  biggest  part  of  his  childhood  ,  jumping  from  hotel  to  hotel    &    from  country  to  country  every  few  months  .

since  there  wasn’t  a  lot  to  do  in  a  hotel  ,  if  he  wasn’t  studying  like  the  good  student  he  was  ,  samuel  was  near  to  the  pool  or  in  it  .  he  loved  swimming  with  a  burning  passion    ;    it  was  something  he  fell  in  love  with  from  a  young  age    &    demanded  swimming  lessons  be  a  part  of  his  home  schooling  .  as  it  happened  ,  he  was  pretty  good  at  it  .  swimming  became  a  hobby  that  he  was  addicted  to    &    he  found  himself  feeling  grateful  that  all  his  father’s  hotels  had  their  own  swimming  pools  .  for  a  while  ,  danilo    &    samuel  were  content  with  their  lives  .  in  fact  ,  the  feeling  of  loneliness  didn’t  seep  into  danilo  until  sam  had  reached  ten  years  old  .

they  were  happy  with  it  just  being  the  two  of  them  ,  but  as  sam  grew  older  he  noticed  that  his  father  didn’t  seem  quite  complete  .  at  first  he  didn’t  understand  why  ,  but  when  they  visiting  the  hotel  in  chicago  ,  danilo  met  isabella  devine  for  the  first  time  ,    &    it  suddenly  made  sense  .  sam  knew  that  his  father  had  no  intentions  of  remarrying  after  his  mother  ,  but  meeting  isabella  changed  his  whole  outlook  .  she  was  kind  ,  warm  ,    &    was  going  through  a  grievance  herself  after  losing  her  husband  in  a  tragic  house  fire  .  she  also  had  a  child  of  her  own  ,    &    her  maternal  instincts  were  transferred  to  sam  .  when  he  turned  twelve  ,  the  couple  were  married    &    the  family  was  whole  .

surprisingly  enough  ,  sam  got  along  with  his  step - mother    &    step - sister  pretty  well  .  isabella  became  the  equivalent  of  his  mother    &    his  step - sister  turned  into  the  sibling  he  never  had  .  he’d  play  pranks  on  her  ,  joke  around  with  her  but  at  the  same  time  be  protective    &    nurturing  ,  the  way  a  brother  should  be  .  in  fact  ,  the  now  wholesome  family  got  along  so  well  that  sam  decided  to  take  a  permanent  residence  in  chicago  where  isabella    &    her  daughter  lived  ,  opting  out  of  the  homeschooling  method    &    joining  a  private  school  .  he  made  friends  quickly  ,  took  part  in  the  school’s  swimming  team    &    was  undeniably  happy  .

he  was  by  far  the  best  swimmer  in  the  school  ,    &    after  he  was  thrown  into  competitions  he  was  the  best  in  the  state  ,  excelling  in  every  competition  he  took  part  of    &    winning  the  biggest  part  of  them  .  he  earned  quite  a  name  for  himself  ,    &    at  one  of  his  competitions  a  representative  for  the  olympic  swimming  team  came  to  see  him  swim    &    after  seeing  his  impressive  speed    &    strength  in  the  water  ,  offered  sam  an  opportunity  he  couldn’t  refuse  .  he  was  seventeen  years  old  ,    &    would  compete  in  the  2016  olympics  ,  which  gave  him  two  years  to  get  to  the  level  he  aimed  to  be  at  .

samuel  was  thrown  into  arduous  amounts  of  training  ,  hours    &    hours  spent  in  the  gym    &    in  the  pool  ,  but  sam  didn’t  mind  it  .  he  knew  what  he  had  to  do  to  be  the  best    &    he  knew  how  to  get  there  .  he  had  the  determination  ,  the  drive    &    the  love  for  swimming  to  do  it    &    eventually  ,  he  was  breaking  his  own  personal  records    &    getting  surpassing  everyone’s  expectations  .  in  what  felt  like  no  time  at all  ,  he  was  at  the  rio  olympic  games  2016    &    about  to  start  the  swim  that  could  change  his  life  .  he  was  unbelievably  focused  ,  forgetting  everything  but  the  pool  in  front  of  him  .  his  trainers  blamed  it  on  his  incredible  skill  ,  but  sam  just  said  it  was  pure  luck  that  he  beat  the  olympic  world  record    &    took  home  the  gold  medal  .

everyone  celebrated  .  his  entire  team  exploded  with  pride    &    his  friends    &    family  along  with  them  .  he  won  the  gold  medal  at  his  first  olympic  games  ,    &    they  had  to  celebrate  that  in  a  way  that  would  express  their  pride  for  sam  .  so  they  decided  to  go  on  a  skiing  trip  in  alaska  for  two  weeks  full  of  skiing  ,  drinking    &    fun  between  the  people  who  were  the  most  proud  of  him  .  it  was  the  perfect  celebration    ;    everyone  was  enjoying  themselves  .  until  sam  started  showing  off    &    landed  funny  after  doing  a  360º  rotation  in  the  air  .

it  was  the  worst  pain  he  ever  experienced  .  every  single  time  he  moved  it  was  like  splinters  were  crawling  up  his  back    &    creating  spasms  each  time  it  twitched  .  at  first  they  thought  it  was  a  trapped  nerve  ,  but  after  further  examinations  specialists  told  him  that  it  was  actually  a  disk  bulge  in  his  lumbar  pressing  against  his  nerve  root  that  was  causing  the  pain  .  he  was  left  with  two  options    :    deal  with  the  pain    &    not  being  able  to  swim  again  ,  or  have  a  discectomy  to  remove  the  disk  bulge  but  risk  not  being  able  to  swim  to  the  same  extent  again  .  being  determined    &    not  being  able  to  give  up  the  one  thing  he  loves  the  most  ,  sam  chose  the  latter  .

it  took  a  month  to  recover  from  the  operation  ,    &    after  that  he  threw  himself  into  physiotherapy  so  intense  that  a  lot  of  people  called  him  crazy  .  but  he  needed  to  get  to  the  level  he  was  once  at  ,  even  if  it  killed  him  .  it  took  nearly  over  a  year  of  physiotherapy  ,  days    &    sometimes  night  spent  in  the  swimming  pool  ,  pushing  himself  to  the  limit    &    more  often  than  not  succeeding  in  what  he  wanted  to  do  .  eventually  ,  he  got  better    &    better     &    could  qualify  for  the  olympics  again  .  but  ,  in  order  to  continue  his  training  ,  he  needed  to  move  to  new  york  ,    &    that’s  where  he’s  been  since  .

*    𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚    .

           sam  is  a  lover  of  adventure    &    experiencing  new  things  .  people  might  call  him  a  thrill  seeker  ,  but  he  just  believes  that  a  life  without  experiencing  everything  you  can  isn’t  a  life  worth  living  .  he  enjoys  learning  new  things    &   is  always  keen  on  hearing  different  opinions  to  benefit  his  own  ,  however  he  can  come  across  as  being  quite  opinionated  when  it  comes  to  his  own  thoughts    &   he’s  not  afraid  to  speak  his  mind  ,  which  sometimes  got  him  into  trouble  when  he  was  younger  but  has  earned  him  great  respect  as  he  grew  older  .

in  general  ,  sam  is  kind    &    thoughtful    &    is  a  firm  believer  that  you  should  treat  people  the  way  you  expect  to  be  treated  ,  but  he’s  not  afraid  to  stand  his  ground  when  he  needs  to  or  protect  those  that  he’s  closest  to  .  when  it  comes  to  his  family    &   his  close  friends  ,  sam  will  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  for  them  even  if  it  was  just  to  bring  them  a  pretzel  from  europe  .  he  values  them  a  lot   &    is  extremely  loyal  to  them  .

however  ,  sam  can  be  quite  flaky    &    fickle  .  when  it  comes  to  making  decisions  regarding  his  career  ,  he’s  very  clever  in  his  approach   &   makes  sure  it’s  the  best  decision  but  when  it  comes  to  his  personal  life  ,  he’s  not  very  good  at  all    &    often  has  to  seek  advice  from  other  people  just  to  make  the  correct  decision  .  he  dislikes  situations  that  are  too  messy  ,  preferring  when  things  are  easy  to  resolve  because  he’s  not  a  problem  solver    &    would  rather  avoid  situations  that  require  him  to  be  one  .

he  can  be  pretty  mischievous  ,  since  he  was  younger  he’d  often  play  pranks  on  his  dad’s  employees    &   his  step - sister  just  to  ,  as  he  used  to  say  ‘ pass  the  time ’  so  although  he’s  someone  you  can  trust  with  your  secrets  ,  he’s  not  someone  you  can  trust  not  to  scare  the  living  daylights  out  of  you  the  next  chance  he  gets  .  he  loves  to  have  fun    &   isn’t  opposed  to  a  good  night  out  whenever  the  time  calls  for  it  .

*    𝒇𝒖𝒏  𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔    .

he  loves  to  swim    (    ofc    )    but  he  loves  to  swim  with  dolphins  even  more  than  that  ,    &    has  actually  adopted  a  dolphin  bc  he  loves  them  so  much

he’s  a  vegetarian  more  out  of  convenience  than  anything  ,  enjoying  the  veggie  lifestyle  more  than  the  carnivore  one

he  can’t  stay  in  one  set  place  for  more  than  a  month  .  it  literally  irritates  the  life  out  of  him    &    has  tons  of  holiday  homes  around  the  world  that  he  visits  often

although  he’s  never  met  his  biological  mother  ,  he  keeps  a  photo  of  her  on  his  bedside  table  to  remind  him  of  where  he  comes  from

he  does  have  a  slight  portuguese  accent  ,  but  it’s  faded  over  the  years    &    his  accent  is  more  american  now

he  has  an  irrelevant  fear  of  bugs    !!    like  literally  he  can’t  stay  in  the  same  room  as  one  of  them  for  too  long

has  a  bucket  list  that  he’s  slowly  crossing  off

[alitaimagines]

Can you do a scenario where all might meets his girlfriend in high school, possibly like a POC girl like you did last time?? and they start dating but fast forward years later and their married. She sees all might fighting a villain and she they caught off the TV when she sees him getting extremely injured and when he comes home, he finds her sobbing while listening to the radio and watching videos of them when they were younger. I live for angst and then fluff.

Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Summary: “We’ve been together for years. I can’t lose you. Not now, not ever.” ( Listen to this song when you read the party scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uUGFhVWPOFs )

You had been dating Toshinori since high school. Toshinori had been a bit of a wild card and everyone thought he was going to be a bachelor his entire life. The two of you had met at a party and while neither of you expected to still be together, you had been happily married for over a decade.

You were invited to a final send off party for all the 3rd years. You were all set to graduate within the next two days and you felt like for once in your life, you needed to let loose. 

The party was being hosted in the house of the a boy who you didn’t know. You were all encouraged to bring liquor as it was a high school party and no one was the age to buy it. You had brought a twelve pack of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. It was a starter drink for anyone who was a light weight. 

You sat around with the same cup of tequila as you mingled around. Students were already acting like they were drunk off their ass as they ushered themselves to different rooms in the house. To do what? You didn’t want to know.

“American girl! You should totally pick the next song!” A boy slurred into your ear as he gave you a napkin. “We need to shit to dance to since everyone in this party is acting lame!”

You laughed, “Sure. Just type this song in and you should be good to go!” 

You had written down “We be burning” by Sean Paul. It was a good song for everyone to dance to. Although it was totally out of the music element for Japan, you knew everyone would dance to it anyway. 

Just as you went for your second drink, you felt the first cup start to kick in. You had participated in a couple of rounds of beer pong as you continued to ask for you cup to be refilled. You friend had cautioned you to watch your drinking but did you really care? No, not really. 

“Hey, you’re really good at beer pong!” You heard a voice say from behind you. “You should really be my partner next time.”

You turned around to see Yagi Toshinori. He was in your class and although the two of you were classmates, you never spoke to each other. He was extremely popular amongst the girls and you had never been the type of flock the popular school crush. You were a bit more reserved and understood other people’s boundaries. 

“Thanks! Well, if they decide to have another round, I’ll call you over!” You said smiling as you slapped your hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think they are though.”

“Well, how about you dance the next song with me?” Toshinori asked as he held his hand out for you. It was the song you had suggested and all of the people flocked the living room floor. 

You grabbed his hand and put your arms around his neck. You started to grind on him slowly as you started to sing the words into his ears. (I really suggest you listen to the song or else it’s not going to make sense. It’s really just the beat of the song that you should listen too.)

“Everyday we be burnin’ not concernin’ what nobody wanna say. We be earnin’ dollars turning ‘cause we mind de pon we pay. More than gold and oils and diamonds– girls, we need dem everyday. Recognize it, we be pimpin as we ridin. ”

“I didn’t know you were this much of a great dancer,” Toshinori slurred as you continued to dance on him. “I would have asked you out to dance with me a long time ago. 

“I know your infatuation with American things so I should have mentioned that I am half American, the other half Mexican,” You giggled as you turned around to grind on him with your arse in his crotch area. 

Toshinori didn’t speak as he enjoyed the dance that was being given to him. He knew that if you weren’t as drunk as you were, he wouldn’t be getting the dance in the first place. If he wasn’t as drunk as he was, he wouldn’t have accepted it either. In the back of both your minds, the last bit of sober thoughts went away as you both accepted the last two shots of vodka. 

“How about we head back to my place? I need to lay down before I pass out,” Toshinori managed out as he grabbed your hand and led you outside of the house. 

“Maybe I can give you the dance I just gave you again. This time with less clothes on and you on a chair,” You whispered as he carried you bridal style. You slowly started to kiss him down to his collarbone and he just knew he had to get home. 

The next morning, you woke up in Toshinori’s bed. The birds chirping extremely loud and you felt like your head was about to explode. You felt a hand tighten against you as you finally started to regain your memory from last night. 

“Toshinori! Toshinori, get up!” You whispered as you shook him awake. 

He groaned and opened his eyes. Toshinori looking extremely rough as his hair was all over the place. You could say the same thing about you. Your hair standing up in different places and you breath reeked of alcohol. 

“Don’t tell me we did something last night,” Toshinori groaned as he finally got a good look at the two of you. “Please tell me we both consented to this.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you covered yourself with the blanket, “With the way we were last night, I don’t think either of us were sober enough to do anything.” 

You ran your hands through you hair as you tried to start gathering your things together. Before you could even step foot on the floor, Toshinori grabbed you and pulled you back on the bed. 

“What’s up?” You asked as he started to close his eyes. 

Toshinori shrugged, “You should stay a little longer. I know you live on campus so you have no one to come home too.” 

You thought for a second before giving in. You laid back down and Toshinori immediately cuddling you. His hand rubbing your sides as you laid your head on his chest. 

“I should really treat you to dinner soon. Have any plans later?” Toshinori asked. “You know, with you being my girlfriend and all.” 

You felt yourself blushing different shades of red. You knew he was bold but not that bold. 

“Sure,” You giggled as you ran your hand through his golden locks. 

You had been watching the TV intensely. There was a major attack in the downtown area. While everyone assumed that All Might was going to take care of it in a flash, the villain managed to strike him hard enough for him to go down in pain. 

“Toshinori, you need to come back home,” You whispered as you clutched your hand that held the beautiful promise ring. 

The two of you had already found out the consequences of his quirk recently. His body was about to start giving out if he didn’t stop fighting and while he was already training his next successor, you knew he would continue his pro hero work until he felt finished training Izuku. 

The camera of the news station panned into All Might as he was holding his left side. If his body gave out, the whole world would know his secret. His body showing the major consequences of his quirk and you begged him to start distancing himself from major city attacks but he never listened. 

“Fuck,” You whispered as you clutched your phone to your heart. “He’s going to be alright. He has to be alright.”

Suddenly, the TV cut out and the last thing you had seen was Toshinori being carried out on a stretcher. He wasn’t moving. Almost like he was dead. 

Your sobs continued as you felt your phone vibrate. It was a video message from your best friend. She had known the secret Toshinori and was probably texting you to check up on you. You looked at the video and you felt the sobs come even harder. 

It was the video of you and Toshinori at the stupid party that got the two of you together. It was blurry as hell as it had been recorded on one of those RCA Camcorders. You could see the two of you being completely wasted as you were dancing like an idiot on him. 

“Thought you would need to see this. I hope he’s alright.”

It soon turned into you watching videos of the two of you that you had on your phone. They were all different occasions but the genuine happiness made you cry even harder. 

You felt your sobs soon turn into you having an anxiety attack. You were gasping for air more than you actually cried. You heart was racing and you felt your mind being fogged. You had crashed up against the pillows as your anxiety attack put you to sleep. 

Toshinori walked into the house the next morning looking like he usually did. Small cuts on his face but after Recovery Girl worked around the clock to fix him, he walked out of the hospital with a sprained ankle as his major injury. He could see the videos of the two of you playing on the TV as he seen your tear stained face. The guilt immediately bubbling up. 

“Get up,” Toshinori whispered as he shook your leg. 

You jumped up and seen your husband looking down at you with a small smile. You tackled him into a hug as you sobbed into his shoulder. He knew you were worried out of your mind, as every wife had the right to be. 

“Don’t you do that ever again. What did I tell you? You need to slow down. I was worried sick but since you specifically told me never to call you while you were on duty, I didn’t try. Fuck Toshinori, remember what the doctors told you? Your body isn’t meant to handle those injuries anymore. You aren’t 25. You’re in your 40s! Sometimes, I feel like you don’t even listen to me anymore,” You lectured as your tears kept coming down. 

Toshinori slowly bent down on his knee as he took out a black box. Your back towards him as you didn’t feel like showing him your tears. 

“I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad at me. Just please, turn around,” He whispered as you turned around with an attitude. “I know I can’t fight like that anymore. After last night, Recovery Girl nearly killed me herself when she found out the status of my health. While I was covering from surgery, I had a dream of you. You were laying flowers on my grave next to Izuku. The two most important people in my life seeing me dead is not the life I want. This time I promise you, I will start to push myself to not fight every villain that attacks the city. I also want to ask you this question, will you marry me?” 

“It took your near death experience to finally realize that you can’t fight anymore? I swear I’m marrying an idiot. Yes, yes of course I’ll marry you!” You screamed as you hugged him. “It took you nearly two decades to ask!” 

Toshinori laughed quietly as he held you close. Having you in his life was all he needed now. Maybe nearly dying was his wake up call but seeing you in such a state of distress is something he never wanted to witness again.

-ALITA (requests open!!!)

[anghraine]

“like a storm in the desert” - chapter three

fandom: Star Wars

characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso; Jyn/Cassian

length: 3k

stuff that happens: Jyn and Cassian go undercover for the Rebellion, and sometimes for themselves.

previous chapters: one, two

Zara Lannan was a poised, attractive, professional woman, married to a pleasant and respectable officer. She’d spent the day talking over security codes with another Imperial programmer, smothering all trace of Jyn Erso—even as she silently thanked the Partisan who’d taught her slicing. Danna? Jyn thought the woman had been Danna, but she couldn’t remember all the names of the people who passed through the Partisans back then. Some got siphoned off into the Alliance; most died. Zara, at any rate, was the sort of narrowly good-natured woman who disliked death and suffering, but talked vaguely about the rule of law and dismissed the rest as Rebel propaganda. Major Lannan, meanwhile, prided himself on the precision of his conduct while happily remote from actual warfare; he served on a quiet backwater planet that had seen no real change between the Republic and the Empire. Lieutenant Erso and Commander Andor of the Rebellion heartily disliked them both. But the higher officers of Major Lannan’s sector had been summoned to a gathering (aka five-day party) with the local brass. Normally, the Rebellion took little interest in such a peaceful region, but the gathering happened to be taking place at Elis Place, which incidentally stored the sector’s personnel records. Draven wanted them for unknowable Draven reasons, so Jyn and Cassian buried themselves into Zara and Lannan, and endured. On top of that, the Lannans were, obviously, married. The Alliance operatives stuck inside them were, back in the Rebellion, just as obviously lovers. But packed inside them were Jyn and Cassian, and they were nothing of the kind. Well, maybe something of the kind. But certainly not—not— Jyn opened her eyes in the near-dark, letting her gaze drift down the line of Cassian’s sleeping (maybe sleeping) body. The Lannans’ bed was easily twice the size of their own; where Jyn had considered Cassian’s commander’s quarters palatial, by her standards, these apartments were the real deal. Yet sleeping in this one, a good foot apart, felt more intimate, more dangerous, than the narrow bunk they shared ever had. Not that they ever woke a foot apart. Solidarity, she told herself. Partnership. After all, partnership could mean many things. Sometimes she let herself imagine what it’d be like as the real (“real”) Zara and Lannan. They’d been married for nine months. Zara might still thrill at pressing kisses to Lannan’s mouth and throat, at the taste and texture of his skin under her tongue and teeth. Lannan might greedily run his hands up from her waist, cup her breasts and bury his face in them, beard scraping over the soft skin and jagged scar. They might— Not helping, Jyn. And the worst part—all right. She was an adult woman with a healthy interest in all humanoid genders, and Cassian was a good-looking man. A very good-looking man. Most people had fantasies, fine. But she didn’t … it felt strange, all jumbled up with loyalty and partnership and general affection. She never imagined it casual, a one-time thing or friendly convenience. Not rough, either. It was slight brushes and cautious smiles that electrified her brain, his voice softening over her name, their usual ready glances turned shy and intense. An odd companionate gentleness seemed to fill her alongside the hunger, or threaded through it, or something, and— Jyn couldn’t separate craving and caring, and somehow the mixture burned more than either alone. She’d never felt anything like this, never.

Jyn and Cassian spent three days establishing their bona fides. One day would have been enough for Jyn, but—better safe than dead. Or captured.

“Definitely better than being captured,” Jyn said, and Cassian gave a sympathetic nod, though he said nothing about how and where the Rebellion had snatched her up. They both knew her history perfectly well. Their succession of easy agreements felt nearly as odd as the wistful longing that meandered through her. It never left, but it didn’t—it didn’t hurt, except as a pleasant ache, like sore muscles after a good bout. On the fourth day, they maneuvered their way into a group of particularly obnoxious officers, trophy spouses, and a few more restrained others. The Lannans dutifully carried on their end of the conversation, Zara with barely (not at all) concealed irritation at every condescending question and smug dismissal of the war consuming most of the galaxy. When she excused herself, the more sensible of the others looked either sympathetic or at least comprehending. She didn’t look back to check on Cassian; he could handle himself. But she heard a burst of laughter. “Newlyweds, eh?” “No,” he said evenly, “we’ve been married almost a year.” “Heh, when Jorit and I—” Jyn did actually slip into the washroom and repair infinitesimal smearing of the kohl around her eyes. Luckily, she even chatted briefly with another woman. “I just needed some space to breathe, you know?” she said. The other woman smiled. “I do! But my partner will be missing me. Should I let your husband know you didn’t tumble into the abyss?” “Thanks,” said Jyn. “It’s Major Lannan. I adore him, but I think I might murder some of his friends if I stick with him the whole night.” The woman laughed and headed back. To her surprise, the rest went off without a hitch. Jyn slipped away, found an unguarded terminal, and readily broke through what went for security while doing her best to look lost and confused. Copying the files over, she slipped them into Zara’s purse and wandered around with even more bewilderment until a guard directed her back to the ballroom. Zara returned to find her husband still holding forth with his “friends,” several of whom looked increasingly desperate, but unable to think of a polite way to flee. Particularly, she suspected, because he outranked the bulk of them. “There you are, sweetheart,” said Major Lannan (not Cassian, Jyn told herself), with a warm smile. She flushed. “What became of you?” “I got lost,” Zara said sheepishly. The men grinned at her. Her arrival, however, broke Lannan’s attention, and most of the others managed to make their escape not long afterwards. Predictably, the Lannans mumbled excuses for another departure, and slipped away together. Making their way down the hall, they encountered no obstacles beyond an unexpected lieutenant. As they heard his footsteps on the way to their rooms, Cassian slipped an arm about Jyn’s waist, heat flaring along her skin even as she followed suit. For a brief instant, it reminded her of Scarif, half-carrying him out and knowing it would probably make no difference. But Cassian stood upright, his breath even and his knuckles tracing aimless little patterns. If the lieutenant had meant to redirect them, he changed his mind as soon as he saw Cassian’s rank. Lannan’s. It was Lannan stroking her—Zara’s—waist, Lannan’s low laugh, Lannan flashing his insignia to sneak away with his pretty wife. “I—I beg your pardon, sir,” the lieutenant said, as Cassian turned around. “It’s my fault,” said Zara. “I, ah, needed my husband’s help with … something. We’ll be rejoining the others shortly.” He repressed a look of amusement with little success. “Yes, ma’am. Well, I don’t want to get in your way.” And that was that. Laughing, they walked over to the lift and stumbled inside. Standing there in each other’s arms, making nonsense conversation she couldn’t even remember for any onlookers, she did think of Scarif. They’d stood almost like this as Jyn braced him with her body, the arm about his waist then at the back of his neck, in his hair. She’d kissed him then, in fear and desperation and the sheer force of emotion at his survival, his return, just how badly he was hurt. She imagined doing it again, his mouth warm instead of cold, eyes closed instead of pained. Zara would. Hell, the Rebels' idea of Lieutenant Erso would—why not? Jyn’s gaze flickered to his mouth, lingered; Cassian’s mirrored hers, trailed down the same path. She could feel his breath against her, in his body and against her face; he must feel hers, and maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she could hear it, too, that bit heavier as he babbled on about some colonel. But they were Jyn and Cassian, tender behind their double shells, and easily victorious rather than desperately so. They did nothing except look, and pretend to more. In their quarters, they immediately released each other. In tandem, but Jyn felt a little colder nonetheless. “Do you have it?” said Cassian, after they searched the apartment for bugs. Jyn extracted the file from the purse, and held it between her fingers. “Got all the files, no problem. Draven should be happy.” “Draven?” They both grinned at each other, shyness gone. For Jyn, for now, it was enough.

Neither Jyn nor Cassian cared for undercover missions, even quick sabotage operations, but they took as many as they could. Jyn, in particular, pressed Draven for them. Everyone else gave her knowing looks that, all things considered, she found remarkably grating. Draven just sighed. But as long as they returned successful, he let them have their way. Or rather, he let Cassian have his way, and grudgingly accepted Jyn as a sort of appendage to him. She didn’t care for it, but she cared less for Kay’s gaping absence, and vacant KX droids didn’t go around finding themselves. While they encountered the occasional sentient KX unit, they weren’t about to rip out those ones’ existences except in desperate circumstances. They needed a deactivated or unprogrammed one, which meant they needed access to Imperial storage, which meant going undercover. They didn’t talk about it much. But now and then Cassian would remark, “Kay always says—said …” and flinch from himself. (She suspected that he often flinched from himself, invisibly. Visibly, though: that was different. Jyn remembered the first year after her mother died, then the one after Saw abandoned her, and ached for Cassian and herself. They’d spent their lives in vicious harmony, the two of them.) Now and then Jyn would say, “We’ll manage it,” or something equally uninspired. But Cassian required little for hope, however tentative. They fell back on their usual obstinacy with every success-coated failure, even the narrowest. It took three months to find an acceptable posting with acceptable access to acceptable parts. A particularly long three months, in Jyn’s estimation. In part, it was the always-uncertain thing between them, both nervously aware, neither quite willing to risk the foundation beneath. Jyn’s imagination ran wild, but only her imagination. She’d encountered no previous lovers, no rumours, no anything. At first she assumed any others had transferred to another base or died, but it didn’t seem to be the case. To all appearances, until she took up residence in his quarters (less expansive now, because they were operating out of fucking Hoth), people who a) knew of his existence and b) hadn’t directly served under him looked on him as a sort of organic droid. Some of them still did, because they thought of Jyn that way, too. Not that she cared. She liked droids better than most organics, anyway. But she did, sometimes, wonder if he just didn’t … feel anything, that way. Not shyness, not caution, but real disinterest. At other times, they found themselves gazing at each other or drifting into smiling synchrony, and—well, she didn’t wonder, then. Much. The other thing that stretched out those first months, though, was far more of a strain. Draven wanted the personnel records because, in his words, they now had a prime recruiting opportunity. Alderaan. Not many Alderaanians had ever joined the Empire outright. But some. At least twelve or fifteen thousand of them had to be scattered across the galaxy; a good number had already defected. Others wavered. Jyn and Cassian passed from tracking down records to tracking down individuals, quietly laying groundwork, one by one by one. She’d bludgeoned people to death, blown up factories, dirtied and bloodied her hands countless ways. Cassian, too. But hunting down the survivors of planetary genocide remained one of the most distasteful things either had ever done. They didn’t talk about that, either. But they let their faces speak for them, afterwards—and if their heads leaned a little closer, their arms brushed a little more, that was their business. They had their own channels of communication. Then, after those three months, they simply found a security droid sitting in a dusty store room. Jyn could hardly believe their luck, and believed it still less when they checked and found it free of all data. But she couldn’t seriously believe it a trap; even if they were suspected of being Rebel spies, the amount of information required to identify Cassian specifically, and Cassian as the “owner” of a stolen security droid, searching for a replacement, seemed still more beyond belief. She proved to be right. While they could hardly walk out with the thing, they cautiously disassembled it piece by piece, smuggling the individual components out to a decidedly perturbed Bodhi. The torso was the hardest; they finally just brazened it out and carted it away in full sight, claiming to be melting it down for ship parts. Imperials could really be astoundingly stupid. Then came the weeks of labour: Cassian worked on finishing the disassembly of the head to retrieve the datachip, while Jyn repaired and re-wired the legs and torso. It wasn’t Kay. It wasn’t anything, just a vacant shell. But someday— “It’s going to work,” she said, after a good two hours of companionate silence. She rubbed at her grimy face, achieving nothing; her hands and uniform were streaked with oil and grease and occasional chipped paint. Cassian, unfairly, was almost pristine, despite sitting nearby as he copied the long strings of code that comprised Kay’s sentience. “He’s survived, you’ll see.” “Jyn,” he said quietly, and she turned to look at him, carefully keeping her filthy hands away from his clothes. “Yes?” He was gazing at her in the soft, dark way he did sometimes, his smile at once barely present and brilliant. Jyn’s pulse thudded in her throat, her gaze skittering down to his mouth, throat, chest, and back again. She knew she must look the same as he did. It had happened before. In lifts, hangars, shuttles, in icy Rebel halls and colder Imperial ones. But this felt different, somehow, Cassian with his clean hands and glossy hair staring at her like an astronomer watching the stars. He swallowed. “Thank you. I never … I can’t … Jyn, thank you.” It seemed to encompass more than Kay. And more than Kay was a very great deal. But then, they both owed each other a very great deal. Now, now. This time was different. And she was filthy, but—her gaze dropped to his mouth again. “It’s nothing,” she said, her voice low and distant. “I want him back, too.” And she couldn’t help herself. She let her grimy hand drop onto his knee, and through the layers of their snowsuits, let an answering shiver tremble through her. Then she leaned closer, with intent as well as the attraction that always drew them together. “Jyn,” he said, and he always had something to say, but nobody said her name like that, not ever. There was nobody— Cassian tilted his head down, hesitating centimeters away. But they’d hesitated long enough; Jyn made up the difference, pressing her lips to his, ready to back away if he wanted. He kissed her back, lips dry and cracked and warm. So Jyn leaned closer, slanted her mouth against his with a leaky droid leg in her lap, shuddered again at his hands reaching for her shoulders, sliding up to her cheeks, catching in her half-fallen hair. When she licked at his mouth, even though her tongue stuck a little, his lips parted beneath hers so readily that her mind spun. She felt drunk, or something beyond drunk, lost in some dazzling fog that left her breathless and muddled and shining. “Jyn,” he murmured into her mouth, helplessly, and she bit into his lip. Cassian made a low, hungry noise in his throat that burned through all thought but longing to hear it again. More, she needed more, finally, finally, finally— The leg dropped out of her lap, hitting the floor with a loud clunk. They both jolted away, then smiled uncertainly. I love you, she thought, easy and painless. It wasn’t a revelation, exactly; she’d understood it for a long time—before the Alderaanian missions, probably before Scarif, however improbably. What everyone else had seen, it was wrong. But it also wasn’t wrong, and she hadn’t understood that. “You know,” he whispered, one hand cupping her cheek again. “Don’t you?” Jyn brushed his hair back, triumph radiating through her at the streaks she’d left over his face, at the heavy gaze reflected back at her. “Yes,” she said. “I know.”

[juminss-cat]

MC relapses into SH after a bad argument - Jumin

Original ask found here

TW Warning - Graphic descriptions of SH.

It was a petty argument. They always were between the two of you. It was the result of stress and not enough sleep on both of your parts. It was the way your worlds crashed and collided with each other, the different backgrounds you both had creating a drastic contrast. It was about your social etiquette, or, in Jumin’s eyes, lack thereof, and about his lack of trust and unwillingness to surrender any control. It was a mutual disagreement over an insignificant matter, but it didn’t stop the both of you from spewing hateful words, spitting them like bullets from a gun, like flames from a fire. They stung and they burned and they destroyed you both. But when he turned to face you, grey eyes glinting menacingly in the cold light of the kitchen and opened his mouth, the thing he uttered made your retorts dry up and die on your tongue.

His words struck you like a bullet in the heart. The blood rushed to your ears, roaring like a tidal wave of fear and self-loathing. You were frozen in place, limbs solid, feet rooted to the ground. You could do nothing but watch as he scoffed, shaking his head slowly and walking out of the front door, the door banging shut. He hadn’t meant them in the way you thought he had. You knew that. He knew that. But the words stuck, replaying in your head like a broken record, skipping over the tracks that may shed logic and clarity on the situation.There was nothing but the silence of the room, the ticking of the clock and the growing feeling that, once again, you were not enough, not for yourself and not for anyone. You broke.

“Maybe I made a mistake in asking you to be my wife.”

It was enticing. It was too enticing. It gleamed on the marble counter, the silver metal glinting in the light like a mirage in the desert. It had been so long and you were so thirsty for the fake relief that it gave you. Your hand was shaking, a small tremor starting in your wrist before progressing to your fingers and you fumbled with the thin metal, dropping it before picking it back up once more, pressing your fingers to the flat sides firmly, trying in vain to stop the shaking of your digits. You could almost taste the relief, the short-lived tranquility it brought you in your time of calamity. It was temporary like everything else in this godforsaken life.

Any sane, rational thoughts flew out of your head as you pressed the blade against your hip, making sure the location would be covered by your underwear at all times; discrete and hidden. You doubt he’d want to make love to you anytime soon, anyway. You pulled your hand across swiftly, the metal rushing across your skin and the familiar sting set in, a burning sensation spreading across the area as the skin split, allowing drops of red to escape and drip down your leg. It wasn’t enough. It never fucking was, was it? Another one, and another, and another until your hip was streaked with angry red lines, weeping blood.

Your hands were steady now and your mind was numb, silent, calm. It was short lived. The panic set in soon after, your heart thumping your chest as you washed the razor under the tap, setting it with a clink on the side of the sink. You were bleeding, not a lot, but still bleeding, evidence of what you’d done oozing out of your skin. A sick part of your mind told you deserved to bleed more, to suffer more, to hurt yourself until you could no longer feel. Instead, you forced yourself to move, to tear off some toilet roll and mop up your weeping wounds. A part of you ached to weep like your cuts did.

The ground was cleared up, as were your cuts, and a piece of toilet roll was kept against your hip by your underwear to soak up the blood. Any evidence was gone but the emotions and pain still lingered. It always did. The fear kicked in shortly after, the fear of being caught, the fear of infection because how the hell would you explain that? You bit your tongue and swallowed thickly, pushing the myriad of emotions down, letting them collect in the hollow of your stomach and fester.

You somehow loathed yourself further. It didn’t matter. You didn’t matter. God, you were such a burden, weren’t you? You couldn’t even satisfy your husband. You were good for nothing. A part of you itched to take the thin metal and slide it down your wrists, let your skin split open, the blood pour out along with your worthless life. But, you supposed, that would also be selfish. Think of the blood the maids would have to clear up. No. You couldn’t be a further inconvenience.

Somehow you made it to the bed. Your face was buried in the pillows, heart thumping as it became harder to breathe but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Would it matter if you slipped away? Would Jumin even care? You scoffed at the thoughts and force yourself to roll over, lungs greedily gulping in the fresh, cool air. It was a luxury you didn’t deserve and one that you never would.

***

You awoke to a hand on your cheek, fingers cold and trembling slightly and you fought the urge to slap them away, too tired and too fucking numb to move; even breathing felt too difficult. When the fingers remained you groaned in annoyance and opened your eyes, prying the lids apart, wincing when they stuck together slightly with crusted tears. Grey eyes stared back into yours, worry and guilt written in the irises, and that was just great, wasn’t it?

“MC,” Jumin whispered, voice breaking slightly and you gritted your teeth, biting down the urge to scream at him, to yell until your voice was hoarse and until your throat bled. You weren’t angry at him, you were just angry, angry, angry. You were angry enough to beat yourself around the head until the ringing stopped until you just stopped fucking thinking for once in your worthless life. “I’m so sorry. Oh, gods, I’m so sorry.” A tear dripped down his face and not even the shock of seeing him cry could snap you out of your head.

“Leave me alone,” you managed to choke out, voice weak instead of angry, shaky instead of firm. You follow his eyes and see red seeping through your trousers. Guess you hadn’t staunched the flow enough before putting the tissue against it.

“My love, please,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, gathering the tears with his lips and cleaning the tracks they left behind. You wished more than anything that his love alone could stop this, could make the pain end, to take back his hurtful words and the urge to slice at yourself.  It was so appealing to think that love alone can fix a person, but it couldn’t. He stood up, stroking your hair gently before disappearing into the bathroom and you took a moment to breathe, to recollect yourself in the silence of the room, to push down the raging inside of you, fighting to break free.

“I’m so weak,” you gasped out, fresh tears falling down your face and his own face pales, bottom lip being worried between his teeth, an action so vulnerable and so uncharacteristic that it made your thoughts stop for a moment. He snapped out of it, lip falling from his teeth and face set in determination. He stripped off your trousers and pulled down your underwear, removing the tissue and apologising at the hiss it caused you to let out.

He tended the cuts carefully, tenderly, lovingly. He tended to them with a purpose, as if he could heal them with just his loving touch. You wished it could work like that, like a fairytale, like you could be a princess and he your knight, saving you from the demons in your own head. But this wasn’t a fairytale and you weren’t a princess and the only hero that could save you was yourself.

“You are not weak, MC. I—I pushed you and I apologise profusely. I should not have said what I did, I could never regret asking for your hand in marriage, I could never want anybody else for my wife. I love you, MC, so much, and I am so apologetic that I pushed you to hurt yourself again,” he said, voice breaking in places, seemingly lost for words and you sniffed, wincing as the rough fibres of the washcloth pressed into the cuts, the nerves sending electric currents of pain that lit up your brain. But the pain was no longer pleasant. It no longer brought relief and clarity. It was sharp and it hurt, it was a reminder of your lapse in judgment, your weakness, and you wished you could turn back time, to take it all back. But you couldn’t. The cuts were made and the damage was done and there was no going back, only forward.

“I—I threw it all away,” you sobbed, eyes scrunched up and mouth falling open, cheeks flushed. It was not pretty, you were not pretty, not at this moment. It was not beautiful, it was not poetic. You were not a black and white picture sitting on the bathroom floor with a trendy quote over it. You were real and you were hurting and it was the furthest thing from romantic. Jumin’s love and patience could not heal you, it could not dispel your ghosts or punish your demons. Him holding you in his arms and kissing your tears away while crying himself was not a good Friday evening. It was not romantic or pretty. It was ugly and raw and it hurt like salt in a wound.

“Darling, you can start again. I—I’ll be here for you. Always. I am so sorry, MC. I truly do not know what came over me this morning and I can’t— I can’t believe I said what I did, that I drove you to do this.” Blame and guilt. Two things that it always boiled down to. Neither side was innocent and neither was guilty. It was a checkmate of shared responsibility, of two people with an act weighing on the conscious, both blaming themselves and refusing to blame the other. It was not easy, it never was.

“I—You shouldn’t have to put up with this. Wi—with me. I’m so sorry,” you choked out, feeling him remove the washcloth and press another kiss to your head. His eyes were sad and stormy, grey irises swimming with tears that fell down his cheeks like rain from heavy clouds. He shushed you, the sound soft and gentle like the breeze on a summer’s day and pressed a kiss to your lips, ignoring the snot and tears.

“I’ll be right back, my love,” he told you before heading back into the bathroom and returning with a first aid kit, “I would ideally like to call for a doctor, but I can imagine that your reaction would not be favourable to that decision.” You nodded and he sighed, setting his lips in a line as he tended to the wounds, wiping them gently with an antiseptic cloth before bandaging them up, pressing a kiss over the plasters.

“Please don’t leave me,” you cried and his frown depended, eyes big and wide, sorrow swimming amongst the tears. He pulled your underwear and trousers back over your hips and pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest like a mother does a child.

“I never could, MC, I never could.”

[sevenpabosandabunchoffans]

Criminal minds {Min Yoongi}

After Namjoon realizes he doesn’t exactly like working as a detective at the local police department, he leaves, determined to finish a case by himself. After months of nothing, a new development comes to light, motivating him to enlist the help of someone else. The two of them build a team from the ground up that’s independent from any government or police force, solving cases purely for the benefit of helping others and doing what’s right.One day, a newcomer enters their lives, begging them to let him join, too.

:: characters: namjoon, yoongi

:: genre: angst, thriller, Criminal Minds!au

:: warnings: mentions of death, someone gets shot

:: word count: 2893

Kim Namjoon

The door opened not even thirty seconds after Namjoon had knocked. “Well, if it isn’t Detective Kim Namjoon.” Yoongi leaned against the door frame crossing his arms. “What brings you here?”

“Hi, Yoongi.” Namjoon greeted him. “How’s the shoulder?”

Yoongi subconsciously brought his hand up to massage it. “Better. You know the doctor cleared me to be back on the field months ago, but the chief forced me to retire.”

“I knew there had to be something that was keeping you from coming back.”

Yoongi sucked air through his teeth. “Yeah, you get shot on the job, and all you get is a retirement package, so you can ‘live comfortably’.” He rolled his eyes.

Namjoon chuckled lowly. “What would you say if you had the chance to get back in the field?” Yoongi cocked his head at Namjoon’s inquiry.

They soon found themselves standing around Yoongi’s kitchen table, case files spread out. “So, the only reason this guy is still out there is because Chief Son was in a rush to pin it on someone?” Namjoon nodded. “Definitely sounds like him.” Yoongi grumbled under his breath.

“Yeah, I took everything with me, since I’m technically still the detective on the case, but I haven’t been able to work on it.”

Yoongi shook his head. “Well three months between the murders…” Yoongi picked up the picture of the newest victim that Namjoon had printed out before coming over to his place. “It’s gonna be hard to find a connection between them, especially when we don’t know their identities.”

“Actually, that was the last thing I worked on before I quit.” Namjoon rustled through the papers until he found the list of addresses. “These are all the addresses of single males that had either disappeared or hadn’t paid rent around the time our original John Doe was found in the believed area of residence. I haven’t been able to go check them out yet, though.”

Yoongi pointed to the third address listed. “I know someone who works at this complex, let’s go there first.”

Namjoon picked up a picture of the John Doe. “You still got your gun and badge?”

Yoongi scoffed, walking towards his bedroom. “It’s like you don’t even know me!”

The two of them entered the apartment complex, approaching the young woman at the front desk. Yoongi knocked lightly on the wood to get her attention. He shot her a smile as soon as she looked up, which was met with a hard glare. “Hi, Suran, we-“

“You never called me back.” She cut him off, crossing her arms.

Namjoon failed at holding back laughter. “There’s actually a really funny story about that.”

“Oh really?” She asked, obviously not believing him.

“I’m serious!” Yoongi insisted. “You know how I told you I was a cop?” She nodded. “Well, now I’m not kidding about this, the day after you gave me your number, I got shot on the job, and then I had to recover, and by the time that was over, I couldn’t find the paper you’d written your number on.”

“Uh huh.” She said, still not believing him.

“Oh, he actually was shot.” Namjoon chimed in.

“Yeah,” Yoongi smirked. “I can even show you my scar sometime.” Suran’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink as Namjoon smacked Yoongi on the back of the head. “Ow!”

“We’re not here to flirt.” Namjoon placed the man’s picture on the desk in front of Suran. “Have you ever seen this man?”

Suran looked at the photo, her eyes widening in recognition. “That’s Junghoon!” She looked up at the two detectives in front of her. “Is he okay?”

“I’m afraid not.” Namjoon said. “What can you tell us about Junghoon?”

“Uh,” Suran looked around, trying to recall anything she could about the man. “He was a nice guy, he always brought me a cup of ramen from the convenience store down the street when he came home at night. I haven’t seen him in about three and a half months, though.”

“He was found dead a little over three months ago.” Namjoon explained.

“Do you know who did it?” Suran asked after a few seconds of silence, obviously trying to keep herself calm.

“Until today we had no idea who he was.” Yoongi said. “Can we see his rent payment records, and look at his apartment?”

“Well, Junghoon always paid in cash, but I’ll take you up to his apartment now.” Suran stood up and moved around the desk.

After leading them up to the third floor, Suran left Yoongi and Namjoon alone in the apartment to look around. “Not very many reasons for someone to be paying their rent in cash.”

Yoongi continued Namjoon’s observation. “And almost all of them involve trying to stay off the grid.”

Yoongi moved to look in the man’s bedroom while Namjoon stayed behind in the living room. He paused as he noticed the pairs of shoes by the door. Upon closer inspection, Namjoon realized that there were two different sizes. Moving further into the apartment, Namjoon inspected the kitchen, noticing that there seemed to be fairly fresh fruits and vegetables, along with recently used dishes in the sink. Namjoon made his way to the man’s bedroom, where Yoongi was standing at the desk, sporting gloves as he held two pieces of paper in his hands. “Someone has been here recently, like, within the past week or two.” Yoongi turned to face him. “I think someone was living here.”

“I think I have an idea of who.” Yoongi holds out one of the papers to Namjoon. “These are letters of correspondence to what seems to be a friend. It looks like they used codewords and phrases, as if they were worried someone would read them and find something out.”

As Yoongi was talking, Namjoon had pulled on his own pair of gloves and taken the letter from Yoongi. “What were they trying to hide?”

Yoongi shrugged and picked up an unsealed envelope on the desk, pulling out the contents. After skimming through it, he spoke up. “I think we might have found this guy’s family.” Namjoon looked up in surprise as Yoongi started reading off. “’My dearest wife, I am so sorry for my sudden disappearance. I had to leave for the safety of our family. Do not try to look for me, I will be home as soon as I am sure it is safe.’” He looked up from the letter. “He never sent it.”

“He was probably killed before he got the chance to. Is there an address on that envelope?”

Yoongi flipped it over in his hand. “Looks like Junghoon is from Busan.” He looked up at Namjoon. “You up for a mini road trip?”

After asking Suran if there was a possibility of someone else living in Junghoon’s apartment (“No, I haven’t seen anyone new around here, and no one’s been near Junghoon’s apartment.”) and a four-hour drive, Namjoon and Yoongi were knocking on the door of a fairly nice house. A middle-aged woman answered the door, looking confused as to why two unfamiliar men were standing on her porch. “We’re very sorry to bother you, ma’am,” Namjoon held up the picture of Junghoon, “but is this man your husband?”

The woman covered her mouth as she gasped. “Sungho!” She started crying at the image of her dead husband.

Around a half hour later, the two detectives found themselves sitting across from the shocked woman, her son now there to comfort her after he had been contacted. “My father abandoned my mother. He packed up and left in the middle of the night with no form of contact for three months.” The son obviously had a lot of anger towards his father.

“Your father was murdered three months ago.” Yoongi said, sliding the letter they had found across the table towards him. “We found this letter at his apartment. He never got the chance to send it.”

The college-aged boy swallowed back tears. “Have you found the reason why he left?”

A sob escaped the woman’s mouth. “That’s why we’re here.” Namjoon explained. “We’re trying to understand your father so that we can find the man who killed him.”

Before anyone else could say a word, the front door was thrown open and another middle-aged woman ran in. “Have you seen my husband?” The woman directed towards Namjoon and Yoongi.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, who-“

The boy cut Yoongi off. “This is Auntie Jiyoung. Her husband and my father were good friends.” The boy stood up to wrap his arms around the distressed woman. “Her husband, Sungjin, disappeared two weeks ago, much like my father did.”

Yoongi looked over at Namjoon before pulling out the picture of the new victim. “Is this your husband?”

The woman burst into tears as she took the picture from Yoongi, sinking into a chair at the table. “We are very sorry for your losses.” Namjoon sincerely told the women. “We can’t even begin to understand how you feel at this moment…but we do need to ask you some questions so that we can catch the man who did this.”

The boy rejoined his mother and the other lady at the table. “I can answer any questions you have.”

“How did your father and Sungjin know each other? Were they childhood friends?”

The boy shook his head. “They met six months ago at a support group for people with a gambling addiction. Apparently, they used to frequent the same places, and decided they could hold each other accountable to make sure they never returned.”

After a few more questions and getting the name of the support group from Sungho’s son, Namjoon and Yoongi found themselves interrogating the leader of the group. “Yeah, I remember them.” He handed the pictures back to Namjoon. “I was sorely disappointed when they both stopped attending meetings, but now that I know the reason…”

“Did either of them still have debts to pay off?” Yoongi inquired.

The man chuckled. “All of the people in our support group are people who still have enormous debts to repay. They join this group to keep themselves from gambling away the money they could be using to pay off those debts.”

It was nearing midnight, and the two of them were still working diligently on the case, neither of them wanting to give up. Namjoon was busy adding their new findings to the file while also checking into the news occasionally to see if there were any updates on the other end. Yoongi had his laptop on his lap, trying to search for more information on their victims. “Have you found anything yet?” Namjoon asked.

Yoongi scoffed. “You know I’m not some tech person. I don’t have fancy equipment. I’m having to rely on Naver, so I’m not exactly having the best of luck.” Just a few minutes later, Yoongi sat up excitedly. “I think I found something!”

“What?” Namjoon asked as Yoongi turned his laptop towards him.

“An underground gambling ring was busted six months ago. Everyone involved was arrested except for those that agreed to join support groups along with performing community service. Including our two victims.”

“Does it say who was in charge?”

Yoongi scrolled through the article. “One Lee Youngsoo.” Yoongi quickly searched the internet for this guy before finding another article on him from four months earlier. “He was apparently held and investigated until four months ago when all the charges were dropped. People think he paid people off.”

“And that coincides with when Sungho went into hiding.” Namjoon concluded before standing up. “Come on, we’re paying the station a visit.”

Officers all over the station were shocked to see both Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi stalking through the building towards the Chief’s office. Namjoon threw open the door, revealing not only Chief Son, but some NIS agents that were in the room. “What is the meaning of this?” Chief Son stood up from his chair, about to yell out Namjoon, but he was cut off.

“Lee Youngsoo.”

“What?” The chief looked at him, confused.

“Who are you and why are you busting in here in the middle of an investigation spouting out the name of one of the richest men in Busan?”

“I’m Detective Kim Namjoon and this is Officer Min Yoongi.”

“EX detective and officer.” The chief jumped in.

“We still have our badges.” Namjoon retorted before turning his attention back to the agents. “I was placed as head of this case back when the first body was found and chose to pursue it on my own when I realized Chief Son here did not care to actually look into it.”

“I made a mistake-“

“I told you that you had the wrong guy. That you had nothing on him. And you still refused to release him, stating that you just wanted the case closed.” Namjoon exposed, refusing to back down or submit to the man.

“Anyway,” Yoongi chimed in. “While you were here, sitting on your ass, as you do best, we were over in Busan, finding out what we could about the victims.”

Namjoon placed the file he had compiled on the desk in front of the agents. “The victims’ names are Ahn Sungho and Im Sungjin. They were both gamblers, specifically members of the ring run by our very own Lee Youngsoo. The police in Busan let them go with the agreement that they would perform community service and join a support group.”

Yoongi picked up. “Four months ago, two weeks before the first victim made his way here to Seoul, the charges were dropped against Lee Youngsoo, and we believe he’s out to find all the people who still owe him money.”

One of the agents sighed. “I hope you’re right.” He turned to the chief. “We’re gonna need to find out where this guy is and get a warrant.” He turned back to Yoongi and Namjoon. “And you two, I want you with us when we find the bastard.”

After discovering which hotel Lee Youngsoo was staying at, Yoongi and Namjoon found themselves following behind officers and NIS agents as they kicked down the door to the hotel room. The group spread themselves around the penthouse, Yoongi and Namjoon heading towards the bedroom. No sooner had Yoongi opened the door than he fell back against the wall as pain spread through his arm. Namjoon quickly shot the leg of the bodyguard who had shot Yoongi, kicking the gun out of his grasp as he kept his gun trained on the man standing on the balcony, still not moving an inch. “You okay?” Namjoon asked Yoongi.

Yoongi nodded through the pain, keeping his hand on the wound on his arm. “First day back and I’ve been shot again. At least it’s not my shoulder this time.”

Namjoon slowly approached the man on the balcony, sensing other officers filing into the room. “Lee Youngsoo!”

“You’ll never keep me in there.” The man stated calmly, only turning his head so Namjoon could see his profile. “I have connections.”

“Seoul doesn’t take too kindly to bribes.” Namjoon only lowered his gun as an officer came forward and placed cuffs on the man.

By the time they made it downstairs and outside, the sun had risen. Lee Youngsoo was placed in the back of a cop car as Namjoon went over to the ambulance where Yoongi was being checked over. “Are you seriously okay?”

Yoongi nodded. “It was just a graze this time.” He smiled up at Namjoon. “Thanks for bringing me into this. It was nice to be back out there.”

“We do make a pretty good team.” Yoongi nodded. “What do you say we stay a team?” Yoongi cocked his head in confusion as Namjoon explained further. “Too many cases like this one pass through the station, leaving questions unanswered and families and friends of victims unsatisfied. We can be the ones to change that.”

Before Yoongi could answer, an NIS agent approached them. “Gentlemen, we’d like to thank you for your work on this case. We have an opening over at the NIS if you two are interested.”

The two shared a look before Yoongi responded. “Nah, I think we’re good, just the two of us.”

The chief overheard and walked up. “They can’t do that. Can they?”

“Well,” the Nis agent stroked his chin thoughtfully, “as long as they don’t break any laws, which they haven’t yet, we can’t stop them.” He held his hand out to shake Namjoon and Yoongi’s. “Should you need it, any resources the NIS can provide will be open for your use.”

The agent walked away, and the chief crossed his arms, staring them down. “How exactly do you expect to fund…whatever you call this?”

Yoongi stood up from the back of the ambulance. “Well, since I’m technically still retired from the force….and you’re required to provide a retirement check every month…I guess…you’re the one funding us.” The chief’s jaw dropped in shock. “Thanks a lot, Chief.” Yoongi mockingly pat his shoulder as he and Namjoon walked away.

“So, what should we call ourselves?” Namjoon asked.

“Well, since I’ve been shot twice now and am still alive…how about Bangtan?”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and laughed with Yoongi, throwing his arm over his shoulder as the area slowly cleared out.

Jung Hoseok