#(I've had chapter 3 of small hands written for over 3 months now. but it's such a nothing chapter and I don't wanna post it ...

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 2

Bruh. My back is HURTING from being hunched over my laptop lol. For some reason I've managed to shit out this next chapter at the speed of light, but I'm back at uni and deadlines are picking up so I can't guarantee another one for a couple weeks. ANYWAY - ALASTOR HAS FINALLY MADE AN APPEARANCE. Not in person yet, but he's here (in spirit). I also apologise to anyone not from Yorkshire, I've used some of our slang from there and it may not make sense, but MC's embracing her Northener crave for violence.

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 6800

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Descriptions of murder and dismemberment. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 >

PART 1: Chapter 2

Another box for my trinkets it's trinketville.

Meraki (Definition): To put something of yourself into your work. (Noun)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Thursday, 7th November, 1929.

The first four months of your new apprenticeship had you thriving more than ever before since arriving in the US. The last time you had felt this joyous and satisfied you were nearly eighteen, the tickle of the long grass on your cheeks as you laid in the meadow at the height of spring, holding the bunch of wildflowers against the kaleidoscopic swirls of the evening tones of the sky above you, admiring the way the lowering sun hit the petals and the small bugs that floated around with its golden highlights. It was one of the few times you had managed to bring your racing mind to a stand-still; no voices; no random lines of songs in your head playing on replay; no worries about the chores you were procrastinating or the book your friend had recommended weeks ago that you were yet to touch. You remembered the feeling of the summer dress you wore, the texture of the leather messenger bag beside you gifted by the old woman who lived further down the lane of the village. She used to babysit you when your parents would travel to York days at a time for work or personal errands. You loved to skip down that lane, with your hand running along the rough stones of the ancient stone walls that lined the lanes of your little village you had spent your whole life in – also lining your mind with the cuts it gave you as you tried to climb over them with the twins over the years.

The routine of working at the repair shop had brought the blissful feeling of stability back, the hectic frenzy of travelling from hotel room to hotel room, checking your tickets a thousand times to make sure you were on the correct train platform, then checking again. You no longer had to worry about travel dates that would leave you feeling paralysed from doing anything else.

Mr LeBlanc had been an excellent teacher and manager, drilling skills into your mind since you stepped into the shop for your starter shift. It was certainly an experience: opening the double doors to a vintage collector’s dream, an antique emporium filled from floor to ceiling (and on the ceiling). Ralph had brought you behind the counter, to a room in the back that he gleefully revealed to be concealed by a door disguised as a bookshelf. The workshop hidden behind was every antique restorer’s sanctuary, and it was certainly yours. Drawers lining the walls filled with every tool that could file, chip away, or apply anything you could find. In the centre was a large wooden table – thick, sturdy planks covered in chips and splatters of paint and adhesives used over the years. This table would be the place you would spend the next four months, your hair tied back by a patterned silk bandana, Ralph showing you how to work with materials from wood to porcelain, metal to textiles. You would pour over books you had pulled from Mr LeBlanc’s bookshelves until late into the evening, until he sent you home with them in your bag, and you protected them with your life as you returned on the trams (or ‘streetcars’, as Americans called them) in the evening light.

Every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, he taught you everything he could, and you absorbed it all at the speed of light, your mind soaking up every piece of information like a dry sponge. By month three you had been given the go ahead to work on your first object from a customer – a small, spindly regency era chamber table belonging to a local gentleman. All it needed was some chips to be filled and repolishing, allowing Ralph to be confident enough in your abilities to complete it correctly. Your results came out on top, both Ralph and the customer being satisfied with your work, and you received the praise gleefully, along with the hefty tip the gentleman handed you over the counter. To you, everything was going fine and dandy.

Until October hit.

Apparently there were plenty of warning signs, according to most. They knew this was coming, your aunt knew this was coming. It was what she had said when you sat with her on the steps of the front porch.

“Shops are going to start disappearing.” She said, keeping her gaze ahead as she watched the cars sputter by. “With the rate this is going, I’m going to have to pull the boys out of school and get them working – I can’t keep the walls of this house up by myself.”

It had sent chills down your spine when you had picked up a newspaper, the words ‘Wall Street’ and ‘Stock Market Crash’ staining the pages for weeks. You put your mind and body into helping Mr LeBlanc, desperate for him to keep his business up and running. Unfortunately, as prices dropped, less people wanted to splurge the extra cash on something nice and antique, so you both lowered prices where you could, even going to lengths to hammer fliers to every street-post that advertised restoration jobs for any household item, promising customers that they would save money on repairs instead of buying it new.

It worked more than you thought, and it brought in enough income for Ralph to scratch by. He was also grateful you hadn’t asked for a raise to cope with the financial crisis, flat-out refusing when he had tried to hand you some tips he had received.

It was just the beginning of December when Ralph had called the house phone as you were getting ready for work. Ollie had yelled up the stairs to tell you and you scrambled down in your work trousers with your nightgown still on. Grabbing the phone, you listened to a raspy Mr LeBlanc as he told you he had falling ill with the usual winter flu. Unfortunately, being 63 meant that he was more susceptible to the illness, and was unsure if he would recover. If he did, it would still take a while, so he had asked you that morning if you were capable of running the shop solo. You had instantly said yes, refusing to let any sidetrack be his business’s downfall, so, with your head held high, you walked to his house, picking up any essential documents that he said you would need, and kept the shop up and running to the best of your abilities.

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Friday, 6th December, 1929.

It was the Friday of the first week of December when you were an hour away from closing. You had been lucky that it had been pretty quiet the last few days, allowing you to settle into working your first ever Monday to Friday and getting to know the everyday things that were essential to keep the doors open. You had brought an armchair behind the counter – the gap between the counter and the wall was spacey enough for you to fit the chair and a small side table.

After not seeing any customers for over an hour, you had wandered off to the small side kitchen hidden by a Persian rug hung over the doorway to fetch yourself a warm cup of tea and a slice of carrot cake that Agnes had slipped into your lunch bag that day. Returning to the front, you placed the food and beverage on the side table, and sank into the chair, propping your feet up and delving into the book you had bought a few months ago.

Your eyes were drooping by the time you finished the tea and cake, and you rested your head on the back of the cushion, lowering your eyelids shut but remaining awake, knowing you had to get up soon in order to close in a half hour. Though the sudden sound of the shop’s bell chiming had you shooting out of your seat like a cat on a hot tin roof.

Scrambling to your feet, you scooted over to plop yourself on the counter stool, fixing yourself to look as presentable as possible as you faced the person entering. It was the mailman, stomping his boots to rid of the snow from the mild blizzard outside on the shoe rug by the door whilst holding a semi-large parcel under his arm. You recognised him from his rounds of the area, normally dropping off the odd parcel here and there for Ralph. Making sure the curls you had pressed into your hair overnight weren’t flattened at the back, you straightened out the silk scarf tied round the front of your head, flicking a curl out of your eye, and faced the man with a warm smile, to which he returned. He was a tall, young looking lad, older than you, but youth still shone in his eager eyes as he approached you.

“Afternoon ma’am,” he greeted, tipping his snow patterned hat. “I apologise for the snow on the floor, m’fraid the storm doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon.”

You waved him off, assuring that you were going to be cleaning up soon anyway. He inquired about Mr LeBlanc’s whereabouts, and you explained that his illness wasn’t letting up any time soon.

“Shame,” he said. “I know you’re probably not getting overrun, but it still must be complicated being a young woman running someone else’s business – especially near Christmas, having to trek home in the cold and wet by yourself.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright.” You laughed with a shake of your head, trying to not let your frustration show at the thought of him doubting your skills because of your gender. “He’s given me everything I need, and I can deal with the weather just fine. Wet and cold is the norm where I’m from.” Changing the subject, you gestured to the half-damp parcel still under his arm. “Is that addressed to Ralph or the shop?”

As if suddenly remembering the reason he was here, he quickly hauled the parcel from under his arm and slid it onto the counter.

“It’s for the shop.” He explained, gesturing a gloved hand to it. “S’pose it’s a last minute repair for a Christmas gift or somethin’.”

Placing your hands on either side, you slid the large square box towards you. Standing up from the stool, you peered at the top. Brushing off the half-melted snow, you read the handwriting that ornately spelled out the address - this was probably another repair.

The parcel itself was probably the neatest you had ever seen anything wrapped. The parcel paper was thick and expensive, the water and snow running off without leaving any trace behind except for a slight sheen, and the edges were folded so crisp and perfectly shaped and flat you wondered if whoever had wrapped it was human. Tied round like a present was a thick twine, looping into a bow directly in the middle of the top. You admired the dedication of whoever had put in the time to wrap this, running your fingers over the corners only to jerk them back slightly as the folds were so sharp they felt like they were slicing at your skin.

Looking back at the mailman, you thanked him for the delivery, and hoped him safe travels back home. Tipping his hat at you, he turned away with a farewell, and the bell chimed again when he opened the door, dipping his head against the wind as he faded into the white wall outside.

When the howling wind finally allowed the door to shut, you began the closing routine, knowing that there wouldn’t be anyone else today with the severity of the weather outside. After locking the exits and pulling the shutters closed and the blinds down, you kept the shops lanterns on as you lifted the hefty parcel with a grunt and shuffled through the hidden doorway into the workshop.

Sliding it onto the table, you got to work opening it up, pulling the twine bow free and taking some small hand-held shears to slice open the glued down folds to reveal a cardboard box.

Pulling the thick brown paper and twine out from underneath, you chucked them onto the other workbench pushed against the wall to the right. Placing the shears down, you pushed your fingernails between the gap of the serrated cardboard and swung the flaps open. Inside was a lot of loose cotton wool, and you reached in, removing the protective layer and chucking it onto the table whilst simultaneously thanking whoever had spent their time padding the box out. This uncovered a semi-large shape swaddled in a maroon-coloured knitted blanket, and you reached your arms in deep to wrap around the object and haul it out.

Laying it on the table, you pushed the box and wool out of the way, and gently began unwrapping the blanket, mindful that some repair jobs may start out with several shattered pieces that you certainly didn’t want to accidentally drop an lose amongst everything. Coming to the final layer, your nails slotted through some of the holes of the knitting and clacked against what sounded like solid wood, and slipping the material off, you had your first look at your new potential project.

It was an old radio. Well, not that old, considering radios had only been in circulation for a decade or so, but it was one of the earlier models, the features you recognised from when you visited the county Mayor’s house when you were in your early teens. It was shaped with a resemblance to a cathedral arch, the wood panelling around the edge looking like pillars that began swirling and spiralling into gothic patterns the closer you got to the top. These patterns decorating the fine grated material that covered the speaker, and a few dials were situated on the bottom half, and you immediately noticed one was missing.

Pulling a stool over, you sat down to get a closer look, and you noted down the damages that came to light. It had obviously been looked after over the years, but, as always, people are prone to accidents, and this radio seemed to have gone through a few. Apart from the dial that was missing, there was a large split down one side, between two of the panels, and scratches and slight dents from where it had obviously been dropped. Grabbing your notebook, you jotted down your initial observations, before diving your hands into the left over cotton in the box to search for anything that could assist you.

To your luck, you found a small linen bag about the size of your palm, that you untied to reveal the missing dial and a few pieces of wood that had come off in some areas. Returning to your notes, you were just about to start a proposal form for treatment when something caught your eye. Looking over to the blanket you had put to the side, your eyes landed on a fancy looking envelope.

Reaching over, your fingers clasped around the paper, the material just as thick and expensive feeling as the parcel wrap, and you brought it towards you, careful not to elbow anything in the process, because if they could afford fancy radios and paper during this crisis, then they certainly were expecting you to repair this with equally expensive standards. Holding the paper up you read the loopy handwriting on the front of the envelope:

To  the Owner.

Turning it over, you pried the even fancier wax seal apart as gently as you could as to not ruin the paper, and opening the flap, you reached in to slide out a folded piece of parchment. Unfolding it, you began to read the matching, loopy words.

---

December 4 th, 1929

Dear Owner,

I do hope this package finds you well. I am delivering this fine radio to be repaired at your establishment, as it belongs to my dear Mother and I would be overjoyed to have it completed in time for Christmas. Unfortunately, it has suffered its fair share of drops and bumps, but from what I have heard from others in our beloved city, you should be able to do an excellent job. The outside is obvious with what needs to be done, but there are areas within the interior mechanics that require some repairs. Now, I would take it to the radio shop, but the man who owns it is oh-so unpleasant, and would take weeks to be returned.

I am sure you would be happy to take on this challenge, for my mother’s sake, and that you will do a splendid job.

Regards,

Mr A. Boudreaux

---

You blinked. Then furrowing your brows, you read it again. And again. Did this guy want you to not only fix up the look of his mum’s radio, but magically know the ins and outs of radio technology? You shook your head, then did a quick once-over of the words scrawled onto the page. Yep, he wanted you to do a Frankenstein and completely resurrect the old thing.

Placing you elbow on the table, you rested your chin on your palm as you stared at the wall covered in tool across the room. There was no way you could do this, not without Mr LeBlanc still ill – though even if he was here, you didn’t know if he had any knowledge on radios. Sighing, you rubbed at your face tiredly, not caring if you smudged the mascara on your lashes, it wasn’t like anyone was going to walk in on you with panda eyes anyway. Letting out a prolonged groan, you came to the final decision of what to do.

Trudging back into the shop, you quickly made yourself another cup of tea, before snatching some of the letter paper and an envelope from under the counter. Slumping back onto the stool in the workshop, you placed the paper in front of you whilst reaching into one of the drawers attached to the table to grab a pen, then, taking a moment to think of what you were going to say, you began writing.

---

December 6 th, 1929

Dear Mr Boudreaux,

Thank you for your enquiry. As much asI would love to fulfil your request, there are some issues regarding certain stages of the repairs. Mr LeBlanc, who owns the company, has taken ill this last week, and it is not yet known when he will recover, and I am the only member of staff he has employed at the moment. Unfortunately, I am not experienced in radio mechanics, and strongly advise that you come and collect the radio and take it to be repaired at a radio shop.

The radio can be returned here for outer repairs, but I am afraid that is the only option I can offer you at this time. The radio will be ready for you to collect from 9am on Monday morning. I do apologise for the inconvenience.

Regards,

---

Signing the first letter of your name, along with you surname, you read over what you had written. Satisfied, you sealed it in the envelope and got to work wrapping the radio back up. Quickly taking a candle, you took a peek in between the crack in the wood, the light shining on the innards. You definitely had no chance of fixing that, if the absolute mess of dislodged coils, wires and metal pieces inside said anything. Reluctantly you placed it back in its box wrapped up and padded with the cotton, before taping it up and re-glueing the parcel paper and twine back in place. It was a shame that you had to reject the request, the payment for the repair would have benefited you and Ralph quite a bit, and it made you feel awfully guilty to prevent someone’s gift for their mother, but it was out of your control. So, with the guilt hanging over your head, you pushed the parcel into the corner under one of the tables on sale.

Doing one last round of the shop, you extinguished the candles dotted around and flipped the light switches off except the main one by the door. With your coat and gloves on, you made sure the scarf was wrapped tight round your neck before grabbing your bag and did one last sweep of the place. Glancing in the corner, you took one last lingering look at the sorrowful parcel that sat under the table, but quickly snatched your eyes away, and grabbing the keys, you flipped the final light switch and stepped out into the cold, looking for the nearest post-box with the letter grasped in your hand.

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

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Monday, 9th December, 1929.

Monday came rolling round as usual, and you began your usual weekday routine of washing and dressing yourself before heading downstairs for breakfast. Scooping some scrambled eggs onto the toast on your plate, you trudged from the kitchen to the dining room, the slap of your bare feet on the tiles echoing through the wide hallway.

Shuffling through the doorway, you sat opposite Ollie, who, by the looks of it, was still waking up as he shovelled buttered toast into his mouth with his head still lying sideways on the table. Reaching over, you slapped the handle of your fork against his ear that stuck out from between his loose, dark curls, and he let out a whine as he sat up to face you with one eye glued shut, the other barely open, bread hanging from between his frown.

“You’ll choke eating like that.” You said as you scooped egg into your mouth.

Ollie dropped the toast from his mouth onto his plate. “Good.” He mumbled. “S’better than Miss Sammie droning on and ooonnnn about nonsense.” He flopped his head back on the table.

“Well enjoy it while you can.” You snorted. “If this crash gets any worse Mum will be pulling you both out to find jobs. And I know you two wouldn’t last a day in the workplace.”

He jerked his head back, scrunching his face in offence. “Like you would be any better.”

You deadpanned. “I’m currently working 9 -5, Monday to Friday, dumbass.” You jabbed back in annoyance, throwing a piece of crust at his forehead.

“Shit, forgot about that.” He grumbled, but perked up suddenly. “Yea, but you’ve only been working full time since last week!”

You chucked another crust. “Running a shop full time on my own – something I’ve never done before??”

“Still.” He retorted, shrugging his shoulders.

You had opened your mouth to retort, but stopped halfway as Allie’s voice echoed through from the kitchen.

“There’s been another one!” he called out, almost excitedly, the thumping of his feet vibrating through the floorboards as he practically sprinted into the room with the morning newspaper grasped firmly in his hands. The two of us jerked back as he slammed it onto the table.

“Amuver!?” cried Ollie, voice muffled by food, though he quickly swallowed it. All evidence of his tiredness now gone, he snatched up the paper and brought it right up to his face. “It’s barely been a week!”

“I know!” Allie replied, his voice rising in volume every time he spoke. “At this point it could end up happening every month!”

You looked between the two of them confused since you couldn’t see what Ollie was reading. “What could happen?” you asked, perplexed.

The two of them froze, turning to stare at you. Their eyes darted to each other, before Ollie lowered the newspaper and spoke.

“…The murders?” He revealed, as if it was the most obvious thing.

You blinked, then looked between the two, more confused. “What murders?”

“What!?” Allie cried, bracing his hands on the table as he leant over it, eyes wide. “You’ve been gallivanting round town for seven months and don’t know about thee murders??”

You leant back slightly at the sight of your cousin’s crazy expression, and slowly shook your head. “I’m uh – not one to read the newspaper often.” You explained sheepishly.

He gaped, clearly shocked at your lack of knowledge about the subject. His head whipped to where his brother sat, and his hand reached out and snatched the newspaper from Ollie’s. You quickly moved your breakfast out of the way, saving your food from being flattened as Allie slammed the paper down and began aggressively prodding at the headline on the front page. Swatting his hand away, you read the giant words printed above a photograph of a lake you didn’t recognise.

‘BARRISTER FOUND BUTCHERED ON EMBANKMENT’

Suddenly intrigued, brought the paper closer to read the front column.

Tragedy strikes again in New Orleans as the remains of county barrister, Paul Morgan, were found on the embankment and in the water of Lake Cataouatche by visitors to the area. Morgan was reported missing last Wednesday by his wife, Martha, when he failed to return home for two days after a night out on Monday with his colleagues. It was reported that Morgan’s body was dismembered, and his head took several hours to locate. However, certain body parts are still missing, therefore the lake has been closed off to the public for the foreseeable future. Police are calling in and searching for potential suspects, and give their condolences to Paul’s close family and friends, stating that they are working overtime to bring the killer to justice and prevent any further deaths. Due to the nature and severity of the crime, it is possible that this is another victim of who the public dubs ‘The Bayou Butcher’. The Sheriff strongly encourages people to stick to an early curfew and remain indoors after nightfall, as the safety of the public cannot be guaranteed at this trying time. (More on Page 5)

You went to flip through, but the paper was pulled out your hands by Ollie who wanted to read it.

“You know what I’m thinking?” Allie hissed excitedly as he lowered himself onto the chair at the head of the table between you both. “This could be another Axeman!”

Ollie gasped, eyes sparkling. “Shit, it could!”

You perked up. “Another Axeman? How long has this guy been around?” you asked as you brought your breakfast back in front of you.

Allie turned to you, eyes shining in excitement. “The first body was found in 1927 – and the rest have been popping up every 2-3 months, but this is the first time there’s been two in less than two weeks!”

You narrowed your eyes in thought. “How do you know it’s all one guy?”

At this question he seemed to get more excited, practically vibrating in his seat as he gestured to his twin. “Ollie and I have been collecting newspaper clippings on every murder that’s happened, and we’ve tried to eliminate any outliers – like, different weapons, ones that are bleedin’ obvious who did it – the rest all have the same MO: they never find the whole body.” He yammered on at light speed, emphasising each word with a loud thump of his finger prodding the table. “Sometimes it’s not obvious, I think they try to throw the police off by going for something small – like a finger – but there’s always something missing, and we know it’s them.”

You frowned. “Them?”

He shrugged. “Could be a woman.” You raised an eyebrow. “What!? I don’t discriminate! Women can be scary!” You slowly sat back in your seat, staring your cousin down. He pointed at you as he looked at his brother with wide eyes. “See!? You wouldn’t be surprised if she dragged a body in?”

Ollie swallowed the food he was chewing. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she caused the second Great Fire of London because someone stole her food.” He said nonchalantly, before casually returning to his toast.

“Exactly!” cried Allie. “No wonder the government wants you all nice and buttoned up in a strait jacket!”

Dropping your fork with a clatter, you looked up at him in shock, mouth hanging open. He froze, quickly realising what he had said, and his face slowly scrunched up as he cringed.

“Too far?” he squeaked meekly as he glanced at you. “Sorry.”

Pouting, you glared silently before picking your fork back up.

A few moments of silence passed, before Ollie decided he had experienced enough of the dampened mood. “You know,” he began, catching your attention again. “We think the body parts aren’t just missing for the sake of it.”

“Oh?” you tilted your head, intrigued again.

He looked you directly in the eye. “We think they’re eating them.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Oo yummy, like a cannibal?” you queried, eyes darting to Allie, who perked back up, nodding. “So… there’s a cannibalistic serial killer running around New Orleans?”

Allie pointed a finger. “Serial killer, yes. Cannibal, possibly. We don’t actually have any proper evidence for that. I’m also going to skip the ‘yummy’ part, cuz I know you would never willingly consume human flesh.”

“You would be correct,” you confirmed with an amused smile, before glancing at the two. “Has mum ever suggested that you two should consider joining the police force?”

All you got were two matching cheshire grins in response.

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

After cleaning up your food, and disappointing the twins because no, you didn’t bring your serial killer books to America with you, because you didn’t want to be judged by the luggage inspectors on the ferry, besides, Jack the Ripper got a little boring after a while.

Even though it was interesting to learn about the current events of the city you were staying in, the subject of said current events did end up putting you on edge when you travelled to work that morning, with you clutching your bag a little tighter, and intensely staring down anyone who looked at you a little odd on the tram. It even got to the point where you had stepped off the tram, and spent the ten minute walk between there and the shop glancing down any alleyways as subtle as you could, even though you knew you would spot anyone against the white snow that reflected the morning sun into your poor, suffering eyes anyway.

Unlocking the shop doors, you stepped in, stomping the snow off of your boots on the mat before picking it up and shaking it off outside. Crossing the threshold of the room, you ducked under the rug into the kitchen, shrugging off your scarf and coat and hanging them up on the pegs.

You were just dusting off the old grandfather clock that was slotted between the shelves of smaller antique clocks when a knock echoed through the shop. Jumping slightly, you lowered the feather duster in your hand and looked over your shoulder to see the same mailman from Friday waving at you through the window in the door, his smile growing as you made eye contact with him . Placing the duster down, you quickly strode over to the door, twisting the locks before pulling it open and sticking you head through the gap.

“I do apologise Miss,” he began after you said hello. “I hate to interrupt you whilst your still getting ready to open, but my boss handed some priority mail to me – said I had to get it to you as soon as I could.” He held a letter out in front of you.

Frowning, confused, you slowly reached out and took the letter from his hands. “Okayyy…” Turning the letter around you came across some very familiar hand writing:

‘To Mr LeBlanc’s Employee.’

“Oh god.” You groaned quietly, your shoulders slumping. This could turn out to be quite nasty if this was going the way you thought it would.

The mailman glanced between the letter and your very prominent grimace. “Is everything alright?” he asked, concern shining in his eyes.

“Yea! Yea,” you breathed, glancing around the street with the dwindling hope that your client would show up to pick up his parcel, but the letter in your hand said otherwise. “Everything’s fine. Just some very small business issues.”

He glanced at your face again, and went to open his mouth, but hesitated, seemingly switching what he was going to say. “Well, uh, I hope everything goes well, ma’am. I’ll see you around?”

You nodded, still staring down the street. “Yea, sure. See you around.” You said distractedly. Quickly giving him a strained smile, you stepped back to close the door, and the man tipped his cap at you again before strolling away.

Walking over to the counter, you slumped onto the stool with a groan, chucking the letter down in front of you. Leaning your elbows on the surface, you rested your forehead against your palms as you glared at the words inked onto the paper. The way it was addressed to you already screamed passive-aggressive, and you hated confronting anything or anyone with a passion, and you certainly didn’t want to confront this Boudreaux guy because you denied his mum a Christmas present. With a loud whine, you slammed your head onto the counter before blindly patting the surface until you felt the thick paper and slowly dragged it towards you. Sitting back up, you held the seemingly innocent envelope in front of you, and stared at it for a couple more moments, before you couldn’t take it anymore and tore it open.

---

December 7 th, 1929

To the Employee of Mr LeBlanc,

I hope this letter has found you in post haste. I am deeply upset that you lack the skills of radio repair, after all it is a growing medium that most should be learning at this point. Therefore I have come to the conclusion that I will refuse your rejection. The fliers you put out stated very clearly that you could repair ANY object, and it would be very disappointing for people to hear that it no longer has that skill to offer, since the only other option for radio repair during these trying times is a very unpleasant experience with that owner I mentioned.

I do hope my Mother’s radio will be fixed on time, I do hate to disappoint her. If Mr LeBlanc does not recover within the period, or you have any queries about the repair, please call the number I have written below.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Best Wishes,

Mr A. Boudreaux

---

If your mouth hung open any further than you would be catching every insect that resided in the swamps surrounding the town.

Was this guy fucking for real??

You scoffed slightly. Then again. Eventually you scoffing spiralled into manic laughter as you guffawed at the audacity that this man thought he had. With wide eyes, you slammed the paper down back onto the counter, staring over at the wall because if you looked at those words any longer you would probably end up tracking this man down so you could shove his mother’s radio up his ass along with the fat metal rod that apparently already resided there.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed back the stool and stood up, deciding you needed you reset your mind before the first customers came in. Marching back to the kitchen, you spent the next five minutes sat in the middle of the floor, waiting for the kettle to boil as you very angrily stuffed the blueberry muffin you had brought in your mouth. You glanced at the clock and pouted as you realised you only had 15 minutes before you had to put on your best customer-friendly expression despite the metaphorical grey cloud that thundered above your head.

Thinking for a moment, you shot back up, chucking the muffin case as you strode back through to the counter, and snatched the letter up, marching back to the kitchen over to the rotary phone on the table in the corner. Picking up the handset, you pressed it to your ear as you spun the number written out on the paper in front of you.

It rang for a moment, and you tried to picture the man who would – hopefully – receive your call. You expected to hear the gruff voice of some 50 year old, that would start yelling down the line about how incompetent you were, especially when he found out you were a woman, before you heard a crackle as it was picked up and a polite and much younger sounding “Hello?” came through.

You froze for a moment, your vision of some rude, old guy whooshed away at the voice of a much younger, more spritely man, and you pictured someone like the mailman, until you heard a louder, drawn out “Hellooo?”, the man on the other end seemingly becoming amused at your lack of response.

Snapping yourself out of the character builder you had in your mind, you quickly spoke. “Hello, do I happen to be talking to–”

“Oh, I am sorry, my dear.” You blinked as you were interrupted. “But I do believe you’ve accidentally called an American number!” The man said chipperly, though there was a condescending undertone – his amusement clearly growing at the thought of your apparent mistake. You guessed it was when he heard your accent.

“I- what?” you stammered down the receiver.

“Oh you poor thing.” He simpered over the line like some fake grandma comforting you after you tripped over. He was clearly having fun – you could just picture the fake pout he was putting on. “Like I said, I’m afraid you have the wrong number.”

No, this was definitely the right one. His attitude over the phone matched his attitude in the letter precisely.

You could hear him being to move to put the phone down, and you quickly called out. “WAIT NO!!” you cried, on the verge of an outrage. “I definitely put the right number in! Now, am I or am I not speaking to a Mister Boudreaux?”

“Oh! Do pardon me.~” He practically sing-songed. Oh, so now he was willing to listen? “Yes that is I, and to who do I owe the pleasure to be called by an English dame such as yourself?” the fake flirtatious tone had you picturing the faceless man laid on his front, kicking his legs as he twirled the coil between his fingers. You pushed that amusing thought down, however, when you caught sight of the piece of paper in your hand.

“I got your letter.”

“Ah,” It was like a switch was flipped, the man’s tone darkening slightly. “I see.”

Rereading the words this guy had put down, you could barely control yourself, and you pictured the time your mother had marched you down the lane to the house of a boy in your school year. That boy had given you a large bruise on your forehead, and instead of telling you that he did it because he fancied you, your mum decided to give him and his family the verbal lashing of your life. ‘I’m not raising you to snap at the slightest pressure like those London lasses, my love’, she had said, ‘You’re gonna go down kicking and screaming like it’s the last thing you’ll do’.

And that’s exactly what you’re gonna do.

“Right,” you began, your Yorkshire accent coming on full force. “I’m gonna need you t’ open yer lug ole, lad, cuz I dunno how you lot do customer service over here in America, but bein’ passive aggressive t’ someone who’s literally done nowt to deserve the absolute shite you’ve just given me makes you out t’ be a right knob’ead, you hear me?” You reprimanded. “If you don’t get your arse down to the shop by the end of the week, I’m putting ya mum’s radio down as unclaimed and selling it t’ the next person I see!”

You quickly slammed the phone down, too fuming to hear anything that Mr Boudreaux had to say. The only reason you felt a little guilty was that you knew nothing about this guy’s mum – she could be the sweetest woman in the world, and you just up and went and threatened to sell her possession! Though, with the way her son behaved, you would be surprised if she turned out to be just like him. Ugh, then you would be dealing with two of them.

Letting out a sigh, you picked up the phone again, instead dialling the phone number pinned to the corkboard on the wall. It rang for longer this time, and when it picked up you received a very loud coughing fit. When it died down, you finally spoke.

“Ralph I need your help.” You groaned, plopping yourself down on the spindly chair next to you with a defeated sigh.

“I’ve got the worst customer in the world.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Does uh, anyone want more memes?

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, and I do apologise for the sudden dialect change, I was desperate for MC to finally speak the way I do lol. See you soon for Chapter 3!!

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

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*feeds you content a lot earlier than I thought*

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[kaihuntrr]

one-year anniversary!

HI. oh my goodness can you believe its been a WHOLE YEAR (and a day, im posting this a day later OOPS-) since i started working on this au? i dont think i started working on the chapters until... the -ber months? but the general brainstorming started now and oh my GOD the amount of changes that has happened while working on this au is insane! im absolutely floored with how much people enjoy this au, and while im too busy to be posting art (im doing some personal work!) i have all the time in the world to talk about how much this means to me.

i've written things in the past, but i havent for the LIFE of me worked on such a long project such as this (we're only halfway through act one of FIVE!) and learning and growing with such wonderful betas and partner (ehehe @mewhoismyself hello there) is just so wonderful <3

SO! in order to make this anniversary special, i've decided to post a little cut/practice scene from act two! this couldnt make the cut with what the plot has in mind, but i figured itd be best to have some nice moments with scott and martyn, eh?

OH! and before i go, the next chapter will be posted a day earlier! <3 im going abroad the day after the original chapter posting date, so i need to rest. i think this back half of the fic is gonna be really something <3

anyway, i wont keep you here for longer. i hope you have a fun time reading this, just as much as my partner and i had fun writing this so many months ago <33

Martyn tried to listen as Scott rambled on about what he’d been up to, how nice it had been to see his friends again. He even tried to let the small twist of jealousy at Scott being so happy over seeing someone else wrench his attention back into the moment, but it didn’t work. The face of Pearl kept flashing in the forefront of his mind, her eyes and jagged scar glowing unnaturally under the moonlight. 

“Oh, and…,” Scott continued to ramble on, but Martyn still couldn’t focus. It seemed that Scott had noticed as his voice trailed off and he looked at the blonde with a tilted head. “Martyn…?”

Martyn gave a grumbled response. His mind blocked out the world around him as he pictured brief flashes of the island, the hollow and desolate stares of the people, the wicked laugh coming from Pearl….

Scott sighed. “Martyn….”

Martyn could still feel a slight buzz in his head from where he was hit. How much blood did he lose back there? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he was glad to be alive. Glad that he was here, still breathing, like everyone else. Glad that he was–

“Martyn!”

Martyn jerked as Scott’s face was suddenly inches from his own. Scott’s lips were twisted into a pout and his eyebrows were drawn into a scowl. “Huh- sorry, what?”

Scott sighed, letting his head fall forward, “So you weren’t listening to me….”

“No!” Martyn said quickly, throwing his hands up. Panic leapt in his chest, making his heart beat faster. He didn’t want Scott to think he was ignoring him…! “No, I- I’m… I’m sorry…,” he hung his head. “I’m trying to listen- I’m not meaning to ignore you, I just….” Martyn looked down at the sand beneath him. Guilt welled up in his throat. He’d been so eager to see Scott while he was away, and before he’d gotten back, and now that he was actually here… Martyn was ignoring him. He was making Scott feel ignored.

Martyn shook his head, forcing a huge smile onto his face. “So, you said you saw your friends, right? Did you have fun-? Oh, what am I saying, you just said you had fun- haha…,” Martyn scrubbed the back of his head, then straightened up, rolling to his feet. “Hey, do you wanna go see if we can find your bird friend? I bet it’s missed you too!” He pointed towards a path leading up to the forest, “Bet he lives in there somewhere…!”

“Um- Martyn…,” Scott trailed off looking after him.

Martyn took a few steps backwards, away from Scott, and spread his arms, hoping he’d follow. “Or we can go down to the beach! It’s a nice day, it’ll feel great to splash in the water a little.”

“Martyn.”

“Or- oh, we can go see the decorations they’re setting up for the festival down in the center of town. You said you were excited right, so we can-!”

“Martyn!” Scott snapped. 

Martyn stopped.

Scott took the few steps to close the distance between them, laying his hand on Martyn’s arm, then sliding it down to take his hand. He tilted his head, giving Martyn big sad eyes. “Martyn, talk to me…. What’s wrong?”

It was hard for Martyn to not crack under Scott’s gaze. “It’s just…,” he trailed off, trying to put his thoughts into words. He was just engrossed in them a second ago, but now, trying to tell Scott, he couldn’t think of what to say. “I… uh….”

“You’re alright, Martyn,” Scott rubbed his thumb over Martyn’s hand in a small, circular motion. “Take your time.”

A small pause fell over him. Martyn could hear the slow ebbs of the waves before he managed to speak. “I can’t get her out of my mind,” his voice spat with venom. Pearl’s sadistic glee, her manic grin, her ever-looming presence burned in his head. Martyn’s grip unknowingly tightened around Scott until he looked the other in the eye. His grip on Scott lessened as he looked away. “What good can I be to protect you, when I can’t defend myself from one person?”

“Who said I needed protecting?” Scott raised an eyebrow, his tone still soft but with a hint of skepticism as he leaned to the side to catch Martyn’s gaze again. He let out a weak chuckle and moved his other hand to rest on Martyn’s cheek. “Besides, you can’t protect me from everything.”

Martyn leaned into the touch, not caring how warm his cheeks felt as Scott’s delicate hand pressed into his skin, lightly grazing over the scar Pearl caused. He closed his eyes as he let out a sigh and drooped his shoulders. “But I want to…,” he muttered. He looked at Scott, his face scrunched with worry. “I don’t want you getting hurt at all, Scott.”

“There’s going to be times where I get hurt, Martyn,” Scott narrowed his eyes and withdrew his hand from Martyn’s cheek. Martyn was wide-eyed, only for Scott to hold the hunter’s other hand. “When that happens, all I’d ask is for you to help me get back on my feet.”

Martyn could feel his nerves freeze up at Scott’s warm hold. His gentle stare and concern on his face nearly caused Martyn’s heart to explode. A million things swirled in his mind as the breeze wafted over. “I can’t help it,” he lowered his head, biting his lip. “You should be protected, with all the chaos going around–”

“What chaos?” Scott cracked a smile and shook his head. He shrugged, letting go of one of Martyn’s hands as he gestured around. “All there is to see is you, me, and the beach. Nothing to worry about, right?”

Nothing to worry about for now, but so many things could happen in the blink of an eye. Martyn could practically hear the sound of the sea princes’ ringing in his ears, the one from his dreams laughing as its mouth opened wide to swallow Scott as he screamed-.... 

No. Martyn needed to be prepared for anything, so nothing bad could ever happen to the people he cared for. Nothing. Never again. 

“I still want to fight for you,” his voice was barely a whisper in the wind, cracking a bit from the emotions that crawled up the back of his throat. But seeing Scott’s attentive look, with the slight tilt of his head, Martyn knew he could hear him. “Can I at least do that?” he pleaded. He needed to-. He needed to. 

“You may,” Scott nodded, giving him a small smile. Then his eyes narrowed as a smirk crept onto his lips. “So- I’d like to see how you fight.”

Martyn opened his mouth to respond- just in time for a woosh of breath to leave him as his back hit the ground. Martyn gasped, blinking for several seconds as he tried to figure out he’d gotten laid flat out on his back… with a certain ginger pinning his shoulders to the sand.

“Yikes…,” Scott teased, his eyebrows rising, complimenting the wide grin on his face.

Martyn sputtered, his face immediately flushing beat red. “I wasn’t ready! Sneak- sneak attack…!”

Scott laid one arm across his chest, propping his other elbow on top of it and laying his cheek in his hand. “Most things will take an opportunity for a sneak attack, when presented with one.” He kicked his feet in the air, as if he was lounging on a couch reading a book. 

Martyn flushed all the way to his ears. “Redo!”

Scott leaned his head down, smiling at Martyn in a way that was almost sickeningly sweet. “Are you waiting for a written invitation?” 

Martyn grabbed Scott by the shoulders and surged upwards, knocking the ginger off of him. Scott laughed as he slipped his grip, ducking under one of Martyn’s arms to wrap his arms around Martyn’s torso. 

Before Martyn’s brain could fully process that, Scott had rolled Martyn over top of him and planted him flat on his back again. 

Working on instinct more than pre-thought, Martyn wrapped his arms around Scott’s shoulders and kicked off the sand. He knocked his thigh against Scott’s hip, bumping him off balance just enough to send them rolling over again.

But Scott didn’t end up on his back underneath Martyn. 

Somehow, mid flip, he’d slithered around Martyn’s torso, ducking his arm again and getting outside of his hold. Martyn ended up with his face in the sand and a knee pressed between his shoulders, shoving him down further.

Martyn was about to push himself up with his arms, using his strength advantage to throw Scott off of him, but Martyn froze when he felt something sharp curl around his throat. 

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even swallow. He could barely even breathe. 

Suddenly the sharp points of crescent bladed scythes were touched against his neck so delicately. Suddenly the sharp claws of a hungry beast wrapped around his throat, pricking the skin above his jugular. One wrong move and she’d slid his throat. One wrong breath and the beast would tear him to ribbons.

A figure above him bent down to whisper in his ear. 

“I win!” Scott chirped brightly. He laughed as he withdrew his fingernails from where he’d curled them around Martyn’s throat. “You really do need more practice. Though I’d be happy to oblige…,” his voice turned sing-songy as he plopped back on the sand, his arms holding him up.

Martyn slowly pushed himself upwards, staring down at the sand where his face had been in utter bafflement. Why had that felt-? Why was he-? Why was his heart beating so fast? Why… did he feel like he’d just been hunted…?

“That- that uh…,” Martyn stammered, not really sure what he wanted to say. “You’re a lot better fighter than I thought you’d be.” He turned his head to look at Scott, pushing himself up so he was sitting on his knees.

“I know,” Scott smiled widely, tipping his head back and forth, “Do I impress you, Martyn?” He smiled and hummed teasingly, his eyes narrowed in a joyful satisfaction. 

“Always,” he breathed, a lot more genuine and heartfelt than he’d meant to. Scott’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Martyn felt his face flush and he looked down at the sand. Well, he was in this far. “I think you’re amazing.” 

“Thank you…,” Scott said with a shy little smile. A light hint of red dusted his cheeks. He looked… really nice like that.

Martyn shook his head, roughly clearing his throat. “Well um, as- as fun as this was… I was actually referring to- to my gun combat more than my hand-to-hand.”

“Uh huh,” Scott answered with a small smirk, not sounding like he believed him. “Well, maybe I could help you with that as well.” 

“You know how to use a gun?” Martyn asked, more than a little shocked. How… how much did he really know about Scott?

Scott opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked to the side, then looked back at Martyn. “Noooo…?” he admitted, grinning sheepishly. He sighed, rolling his eyes a bit, “To be honest I thought you were still flirting, not that that was a serious question. And now, well… I’m just embarrassed.”

“Oh.” Martyn tried to hide his sigh of relief. It was one thing to just not know that Scott was a capable fighter -he was a tavern keeper who dealt with rowdy drunks all the time, Martyn honestly should have expected it- but it was another thing to not know that Scott was a trained gunman. For some reason they felt different. Martyn felt a grin split his face. “Would-... would you like me to teach you…?”

“Teach me what?” Scott’s eyebrows pinched together for a brief moment, then shot up towards his hairline, “How to use a gun?”

“Yeah,” Martyn grinned, “It’ll be like the time I was taught!”

“When were you taught?” Scott tilted his head.

“I think I was… seven? My parents knew I wanted to be a hunter, so they taught me,” Martyn hummed, looking out at the beach. He could remember the eagerness in his voice when he asked his parents to teach him. He only knew of the dangers through them and the people he lived around, but he knew his heart was calling out to the sea more than anything else.  “I needed practice, like everyone else, but I’m a natural. A crack shot, they’d told me!” He laughed. Shooting a target from far away was much easier than fighting with swords or his bare hands. 

Scott blinked, processing Martyn’s words. He slowly turned his head to Martyn, eyes widening in shock as all sense of his playfulness dropped. “You were a child when you learned how to use those?”

“Yeah…? I wanted to be a hunter, Scott, so I learned early.” Martyn looked at Scott and shrugged, feeling the ginger’s gaze on his skin felt… different. Martyn learned how to use guns to be a hunter, not to– oh. Was Scott thinking Martyn would…? Martyn shook his head and raised his hands up. “But I can’t shoot a person. A sea monster is easy because they’re big and stupid, but a person…?”

Scott had a judgemental look on his face as it scrunched up. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head on it as he sighed. “Ending a person’s life is hard, and I’m happy you haven’t shot anyone, but…,” he trailed off. Martyn leaned closer to Scott as he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think it’s a little concerning?”

“What’s concerning?”

“You learned how to shoot things, how to kill things, as a kid,” Scott looked away, gripping his arms tighter as he watched the waves flow in and out. “Every life has a purpose; from you, to me, and even the beasts in the ocean.”

Martyn narrowed his eyes. Exactly what purpose could those monsters serve? Being ocean terrors? An effective way to kill humans and destroy ships? To bring fear in the hearts of children? To kill Ren- Jimmy? Why were there monsters in the ocean? Why should there be? 

“They’re monsters, Scott.” Martyn hissed, anger rising in his voice.

“They’re animals,” Scott hissed back, his face pinching into an expression that was almost pained. “They’re just animals….” 

“They’re heartless, cruel, and always starving.” Martyn huffed, pulling out his gun to examine it under the sunlight. Horrible beasts. Disgusting monsters. Murderers. “They’re such horrible, unnatural beasts that every mechanic in the world works to develop better guns and weapons to kill them all.” 

He didn’t fully notice the way Scott shied away from the gun in his hand. “You’re lucky you don’t need to leave the kingdom to see those ugly things,” Martyn spat.

“Ugly…,” Scott grumbled, turning his head away, like he was offended by the notion. “Well, I’m sure most of them would think the same about you.”

Martyn blinked, giving Scott a double take. Ugly…? 

Scott let out a sigh as he stretched and uncurled his legs and arms to stretch out in front of him. He picked up a small handful of sand and watched it fall through his fingers. “Every life is precious, every life is running on limited time. I’m not an idiot. I know things die. But there’s no reason to cut it shorter than it needs to be. ” He smiled wistfully, tossing the rest of the sand forward. “The sea is… scary, but maybe if you had an open mind, you’d see there’s more to it than monsters.”

Martyn followed Scott’s gaze and stared. Was there anything more to them? Surely not. The fondness in Scott’s voice was hard to believe- but the man has never even seen any beast to Martyn’s knowledge. The fond tone that Scott spoke about those- those monsters with… it honestly made Martyn angry. Those monsters took away the people he cared about. The people he loved. People he cherished. Jimmy, Ren… and so many other innocent people lost their lives to the sea, Lizzie’s parents…. The ocean took all of them, and there was nothing to blame but the monsters that infested it.

“They’re monsters, nothing more than that,” he spat, emotions in his chest wrenching into a tight knot that made it hard to breathe. He swung his arm out to the side, bringing his gun up in front of his chest as he rose to his knees, almost looming over Scott. “I know what they are, Scott, and I know I’m doing all that I can to protect you and the rest of the kingdom from the beasts that would just as quickly swallow you whole as they would crush you into pieces!”

“There’s no need for you to be so hostile about it,” Scott snapped at Martyn, his eyes narrowing into a cold glare that felt like icy daggers stabbing into Martyn’s face. Scott stood up and brushed all the sand from his clothes with a sigh. “I understand.” He walked closer to the water, just enough for the waves to lap against his shoes and tightened his fist, as if preventing to lash out.

Martyn blinked. “Was I-?” he muttered to himself. 

He looked out at Scott standing in the surf. He looked… sad. The guilty feeling in his chest built up once more. 

All of a sudden, Martyn remembered just how happy Scott looked with his birds fluttering around him, with the canary nuzzling his palm. Oh-. Scott was an animal lover…. No wonder he-.

Martyn was messing everything up. First he’d ignored him, and he was pushing Scott away by getting angry. Martyn quickly stood up and ran across the beach towards Scott, “Oh, Scott, I’m sorry–”

Scott turned to look at him, a flat expression on his face.

Martyn felt his heart twist, “I- I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to make you feel….”

“Upset?” Scott supplied.

“Yeah…,” Martyn bowed his head. His hand twitched out, reaching for Scott’s but giving up and retreating before he could take it. Martyn turned his head away and bit his lip. “I-... I made you-....”

Scott stepped closer and held out his hand. “No need for that, silly hunter,” he smiled sweetly. Martyn took it almost immediately, surprising them both. Scott let out a chuckle and bumped his shoulder next to Martyn’s. “I’m not mad,” Scott said softly. Martyn believed him. He looked… sad instead. 

“I don’t want you to–”

“You’re just fine.” Scott assured him with a smirk. “It takes a lot more than a simple disagreement to make me actually upset. We’re okay, right?” 

Martyn bashfully nodded, resulting in a wide smile from Scott. Was he… really okay? Or was he just hiding how he felt? For Martyn’s sake? Martyn hoped it was the former. 

Scott put a hand on his chest, giving Martyn’s hand a small squeeze. “Just… try to keep an open mind, alright? The world can be… stranger than you might think.” He smiled a little bashfully, “I might have- a surprise or two… to share, eventually.”

“Like how you can kick my butt in hand to hand?”

Scott’s face split into a wide grin, his eyes lighting up with laughter. “Just like that.”

Martyn felt himself smiling, a laugh escaping him as he squeezed Scott’s hand. Yeah, they were okay.

[hyuuukais]

✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES

pairing ☆ lee felix x fem reader

synopsis ☆ Y/N is a new streamer. after months of planning, and her best friend & now fellow streamer han jisung convincing her, she makes a twitch and youtube account. thanks to jisung giving her a shoutout to his own huge following, she gains some unexpected overnight fame. but what was more unexpected was waking up to see her long-time favourite comfort streamer _sunshine.bbokari_ following her.

warnings ☆ swearing, descriptions of panic and being overstimulated, mention of being sick

[TAGLIST -> CLOSED]

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

☆ mostly written chapter, 3 screenshots ☆

CHAPTER FOURTEEN ☆ NOT YOUR BUSINESS

People stare as you re-enter the room, making a beeline toward the stage. You glance over to your table and see Ryujin giving you two thumbs up, Chaeryeong giving you a small wave, and the boys cheering you on.

Never in your life have you had to give a speech in front of so many people, especially spontaneously. Your palms were sweaty, and your chest felt tight, but you told yourself everything would be fine. Once you got up there, maybe you'd find a pace and start rambling, forgetting about the crowd completely.

Unfortunately you knew yourself. That wasn't going to happen.

The short staircase squeaks as you walk up, the audience erupting into claps. Someone hands you a mic from backstage quickly, whispering a small good luck.

"H-Hi," You manage, trying to take deep breaths. "My name is Y/N-"

Already people are clapping again. The loud noise is overwhelming, but you try to stay grounded by finding your table. It takes a second, but your eyes finally set on Jaemin. Your chest feels a little less tight when he flashes you a smile.

"Some of you may know me as Y/N's Strawberry Fields on twitch, or from my twitter," You begin to find yourself relaxing, focusing on facts to get you through. "I started my channel a few weeks ago, and not to sound cliché, but it's been a wild ride. I have my best friend Han Jisung to thank for that."

You laugh nervously, and the crowd laughs with you.

"I wanted to pursue this for so long, but always had something in the way, whether it was school or my own doubts," You look down at your feet, hand rubbing your collarbone, a nervous habit you picked up a long time ago. "The sudden attention was a lot. Not all of it was good... but I had good people by my side."

You looks up again, eyes finding one of the cameras livestreaming the event.

"I want to thank someone else you may know. He's been so supportive of me, without even really knowing me all that well. I've looked up to him for so long," A smile spreads on your face. "His username is accurate. Felix, if you're watching this, thank you."

At the name drop, the crowd goes wild. Your chest tightens again, anxiety creeping up on you.

Deep breaths, Y/N, deep breaths.

You give a small bow, signaling the end of your speech. You're about to walk off when someone calls out from the crowd.

"Are you sure you're not using Han Jisung and Lee Felix? Or your other so called friends, Yang Jeongin, Sim Jake, or Kim Seungmin?"

Your head whips around toward the sound, but you can't find the owner of the voice.

"No!" You say a bit too loud, causing feedback. The audience groans and you sink into yourself a bit. "S-Sorry.. but no. I thought we moved past this topic."

"No one believes you."

"They don't need to," You try to stand your ground, standing taller despite the tears welling in your eyes. "I've been friends with these people for years, before any of this."

"Right.. but once you heard Han was friends with Felix, you jumped onto that opportunity pretty quick, huh?"

"That's not what happened..." Voice weak, eyes still searching the crowd, unable to find this person.

"Oh and another question-" A chair shifts, and your eyes lock into their table. "You seem really close with.. ah, what's his name? The one not on social media?"

"Kai?"

"Yes, him! You two seem awfully close... but you never post about him-"

"It's called respecting someone's privacy, which you've clearly never heard of," You snap, done with these questions.

You felt hot, the lights suddenly too bright and the air too dry. You could feel every piece of fabric touching your body.

"Why do you think you have the right to ask me these things? Huh?" You walk toward their table, ignoring the way your eyes sting and the pain in your chest. "Why the fuck is everyone so goddamn interested in my personal business?! How many times do I have to repeat myself? I'm not using anyone. What if people were constantly accusing you of this? How would you feel?"

Your breathing is quick and shaky, tears freely streaming down your face as you look down at this girl who looks about 16, staring at you with wide eyes.

You can feel people stares on you. The mic falls from your hand, emitting a loud squeal when it hits the floor. You feel yourself moving backwards, but it's like you're on autopilot, trying to find a way out. Spotting a door near the back, you run, the room silent and the only sound is your feet hitting the ground.

Cold metal, fresh air, someone's hands on your shoulders as you hunch over, sobbing. The hands help you lower to the ground, knees hitting the ground softly. You vaguely hear a man's voice, but you're too focused on not throwing up to process the words at first. Once you've calmed a bit, you can feel someone soothing you, a hand on your head smoothing back your hair.

"Hey, can you hear me? Breath with me Y/N," He grabs one of your hands, bringing it to his chest above his heartbeat. "In... out... in... just like that, yeah?"

Once you're able to breath normally again, you look up, feeling light headed. In front of you is someone you've never met, so why did he seem so familiar?

"This is probably weird for you," He says, keeping a tight grip on your forearms as you both stand. "I'm Chan- Felix's friend. Well, more like family at this point. Listen, my car's just down the road, can you walk? Or do you want me to bring it up? There doesn't seem to be a lot of security, so I'm sure I could bring it right here if you want, yeah?"

You nod. He studies you quickly, leaving after seemingly deciding you're okay on your own for a few minutes.

The whole situation begins to set in.

You just freaked out on one of the most anticipated livestreams.

"Oh my god," You gasp, running a hand through your hair. "Oh my god."

notes ☆ oh my oh my god- so umm that happened! did i project a bit onto y/n with my hatred and fear of public speaking? or with getting pissed off when overstimulated? maybe. maybe i did. let this girl catch a break fr 🙏 but wait- is that- felix is picking her up?! as in... they're finally meeting irl?!?!?!?!

taglist ☆ @marcillfll @toplinelix @neri-ner @tfshouldidohere @imasimplol @samvagejkflxhrt @yennifersgeralt @aestheticsluut @cherryuqii @tenebrisirae @roseidol @veryjeongintxtkid @amara-mars @nobuttpics @bmnyy @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @ellelabelle @gini143 @mrsseals16 @veedoesntknaur @channiesstars @daydreamer5006 @luvvvash @amesification @skzswife @blamemef0rit @soulphoenix1618 @lovingmny @stvrfir3 @boo-ven9eance @adestayskz @rag-iii @enchantedgrunge @mytherapisttoldmenotto @oh-my-fancan @lucktales @cookielino

pink means it won't let me tag u

[txtaetertots]

HOPELESSLY DEVOTED 68: prom

[ synopsis ] you’re trying to get into your dream school. beomgyu’s just trying to pass a class. the only way to ensure you both get what you want is to work together. very closely.

[ note ] i think this is the longest chapter i've written for this series omg its over 3k words aHH i hope you guys enjoy it <3

taglist (CLOSED): @heyanonymous123 @flrtsbin @anonella22 @chocorenchin @gyuszie @flowerbe0m @kaikamalover @n034sy @iactaid @suzirumas @pupkashi @choi-beomgyulvr @hearts4hanni @naveries @wccycc @wonioml @burminq @a55hie @wildesreblogs @kaewonie @online--princess @alixox @minkyungseokie @moa4lifeee @yeehawnana @peakaboostuff @txtistheloml @sieuneo @weyrrii @cookiehaos @vianna99 @akari-saka13 @crystal-jellies @veryjeongintxtkid @reiloml @mystiicturtle @sirpoopsalot @certifiedmoa @l0ve-joy @woncheecks @hellohuening @rainbowszi @yeonie137 @neoculturewhat @solstramaii @tocupid @cha0thicpisces @koeuh @iwaplant @lemons4u

When the prom venue was chosen and booked, Yunjin had a vision she couldn’t be talked out of. It was cliché, already been done. But, to Yunjin, there was nothing she couldn’t outdo and ameliorate—and a prom theme wasn’t any different. Kazuha would tell everyone it was a pain in the ass trying to meet Yunjin’s demands; but, now that it was all over and the fruit of their labor was finally able to be appreciated, she couldn’t deny it was all worth it.

From the dark blue shaded ceiling drapes adorned with twinkling lights to the glossy black dance floor sparkling with silver specs and reflecting the lights above, it was like stepping into a celestial wonderland. Starry night seemed to be a staple theme for youth events, commemorating these moments as magical and full of whimsy. And Yunjin couldn’t stop herself from doing just that and more. The round tables were intricately positioned around the room, hugging the dance floor and creating a path. The tables were dressed in velvet covers, trimmed with silver beads, and in the center of every table were the handmade centerpieces Yunjin forced Kazuha to make with her. Cylindrical vases of varying heights, filled with water, small white flowers, and iridescent streamers, sat inside a square tray filled with crystal pebbles. On top of the water floats lit candles, adding to the calming ambiance. The room was filled with decor exemplifying the theme from white, black, and navy blue balloon displays, twinkling stars, white drapes along the walls, and a sparkling golden crescent moon. Lights everywhere, flickering and flashing. The star of the display, however, Yunjin would argue, was the four-tiered golden fountain in the center of the dance floor. Her favorite touch was the fountain that took her three months of convincing and revamping.

“Wow, it’s beautiful, Yunjin,” Soobin gapped, doing his best to talk over the music while admiring every inch of the room.

Yunjin grinned, watching as their classmates admired and relished in the venue, “I know right.”

“Any word from Chaewon yet?” Beomgyu interjected, hands fiddling with the sleeves of his white suit jacket.

“Not yet,” Yunjin sighed, tapping her phone just to see an empty notification screen.

She looked up at Beomgyu, watching how his eyes wandered the room and the way he chewed on his bottom lip. He wasn’t even this nervous during their performance week.

“Beomgyu,” Yunjin said, placing her hand on his shoulder, gaining his attention. “Everything is gonna work out just fine. We’ve got this.”

Beomgyu nodded hesitantly, taking a deep breath. Despite being so last-minute, his friends were more than willing to move heaven and earth to make this gesture possible. Especially Yunjin and Kazuha, who used their privileges as prom committee members to create as romantic of a scene as they possibly could. 

Just then, Yunjin’s phone flashed, alerting the three to a message from Chaewon.

‘Pulling up now. Get ready!’

Beomgyu felt his entire body turn cold. He looked between Yunjin and Soobin, heart threatening to jump out of his chest.

Soobin grabbed his arm, “It’s go-time!”

Leading Beomgyu through the crowd of students, Soobin made a beeline toward the DJ booth where Kazuha and Taehyun were waiting. As soon as the two noticed them rushing toward them, they began preparing the equipment.

YN grabbed a fistful of the skirt of her dress, nervously following Chaewon into the building. She could hear the faint thumping of the music down the corridor from the entrance, making her palms feel clammy and her breath uneasy. She didn’t want to be here originally. The embarrassment of Beomgyu rejecting her promposal was bad enough; but then, subsequently rejecting his relationship proposal after the gritty events following, it felt wrong being here.

Even when Chaewon was helping her do her hair and makeup, all she could think about was everything Yunjin said about prom. About it being the perfect ending to her and Beomgyu’s year. Instead, she’s going without Beomgyu, having already ended their story the night of their final performance. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it had been on her mind since the moment Beomgyu opened up to her. She would never do something as horrible as Jieun, but she knew that being thousands of miles away while building her career would make it nearly impossible to be a present part of his life. She just needed confirmation from NYU, and when she got it, it was the only option she felt was right.

Still, walking up to the beautifully decorated venue entrance, being met with the music growing louder and louder, all she could feel was regret and sadness, not an ounce of excitement. Chaewon locked their arms together as they walked through the string light entrance toward the sheer blue curtain, pushing through and falling in awe with the dance hall.

YN couldn’t stop looking around, taking in every bit of what felt like walking through the night sky, unaware that the music was going dim. She didn’t even notice Chaewon taking her down to the dance floor, too busy admiring the lit-up path edged with cloud-like bushels. It wasn’t until Chaewon let go of her did she realized where she was led. She looked around her, noticing the dance floor was cleared with everyone surrounding the floor while staring at her. YN looked back for Chaewon, who held up her hands and assured her all was okay. Confused, YN looked back at the floor, looking around for any hint of what was going on. She felt a wave of emotion and goosebumps over her arms and neck as a song suddenly began playing through the hall. A painfully familiar tune.

A spotlight shines over the fountain, gaining everyone’s attention, beaming over to a figure standing at the DJ booth. YN recognized him immediately and couldn’t help the smile forming on her lips.

Beomgyu stretched out his hand over his eyes, trying to block out the light so he could see her more clearly. In his other hand, he held a microphone. As soon as he saw her, he felt his nerves melt away and all he could focus on was her. He brought the microphone up to his lips, gaze never leaving her, and slowly made his way down the booth to the floor.

Guess mine is not the first heart broken

My eyes are not the first to cry

YN stood frozen, hands clenching to the fabric of her dress, watching as Beomgyu made his way toward her. The spotlight followed every step he took, making it impossible to look away from him. The light contrast made it hard for Beomgyu to read the expression on YN’s face, but he only hoped she was still smiling as he stepped closer and closer.

I’m not the first to know

There’s just no getting over you

It was such a spur-of-the-moment idea to sing to YN at prom. His friends still don’t know what happened after he met with Mr. Kim, but whatever it was, had to be a big deal. Beomgyu described it as “the sign of all signs” and his second chance. It was the last push he needed to consider Yeonjun’s plan of making the most of the time they had left. And, he knew he had to do something big to show YN how deeply he felt. What better way was that than through music?

You know I’m just a fool who’s willing

To sit around and wait for you

Beomgyu stopped a few steps in front of YN, reaching his hand out for her to take. YN could see his hand trembling, making her chest heave. She reached out slowly, letting him take her hand and gently pull her toward the center of the floor.

But, baby, can’t you see

There’s nothing else for me to do?

I’m hopelessly devoted to you

A smile crept its way to Beomgyu’s face, his confidence gaining as he noticed the faint blush painted across YN’s cheeks, as he was finally able to see her face clearly. He couldn’t help but focus on her eyes, the way they stared up at him in adoration. He swore his knees would buckle any moment if he didn’t look away, but he just couldn’t. He took a chance to twirl her around once before bringing her in and swaying together as the spotlight dimmed and they were bathed under the soft twinkling of the string lights around them.

But now there’s nowhere to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

He took YN’s hand and held it up to his chest, squeezing gently. YN could feel how hard his heart was pounding through the palm of her hand. She looked back up at him, watching the way his eyes fluttered closed as he continued to sing. For a moment, she forgot people were watching them. It felt like it was just her and Beomgyu at this moment in time.

I’m out of my head

Hopelessly devoted to you

YN carefully released her hand from Beomgyu’s grip and reached up to cup his face. He followed her movements, gaze falling back to hers as soon as he felt the warmth of her palm on his cheek. He turned into putty whenever he felt her soft fingers trace along the base of his ear, along his jaw. Her touch was so tender and comforting. He wished they could stay this way forever.

Hopelessly devoted to you

“I’m hopelessly devoted… to you,” Beomgyu sighed the last note, hands reaching up to cup YN’s cheeks to carefully wipe away her tears. 

The music faded, leaving them in silence. People hesitated to cheer Beomgyu’s performance, not wanting to spoil the moment unfolding before them. When Taehyun made an announcement about this ordeal before YN’s arrival, they were reluctant to oblige, but as they watched the way Beomgyu poured his heart out into every lyric, they wanted nothing more than bare witness. It wasn’t like Beomgyu to have this much passion for anything or anyone, but ever since taking part in the musical, it was like he became a different person. Happier. Full of life. Desire for the future.

“What was all this for? When did you plan this? What?” YN began to blabber, looking around at everyone and spotting her friends gathered by the DJ booth with smiles on their faces.

Beomgyu pulled her attention back to him, smiling. “I know you said you said you wanted to just be friends. But, YN, I don’t think I can do that.”

“You can’t?”

Beomgyu shook his head. “It took me too long to realize the feelings I have for you aren’t just infatuation. YN, I’m in love with you.”

YN’s eyes widened. She never expected to hear that word from him. It was a scary word to hear at their age, but for some reason, it felt more liberating than scary. It felt right.

“Kiss her!” Someone yelled, pushing the rest of the crowd to begin chanting.

Beomgyu looked at YN, raising his eyebrows as if asking if it was okay. But, before he could even open his mouth to ask, she grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him down, catching him off guard. Their lips crashed together, leaving Beomgyu bewildered for a moment before melting into her touch as their classmates cheered on. His hands found their place at her hips, where the hem of her bodice met the skirt of her floor-length dress. This was a feeling he could never get used to.

The DJ restarted his set, encouraging everyone to get back on the floor. Beomgyu pulled away, grinning from ear to ear, grabbing YN’s hand and pulling her away from the floor and toward the entrance to the corridors. There was barely anyone there, allowing them to catch a breath and enjoy each other’s company for a bit longer.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” YN said, gripping Beomgyu’s hands as she attempted to relax the adrenaline she felt.

“I had to do something big to tell you how I feel,” Beomgyu confessed. “Besides, I had to do something special, too, for that thoughtful promposal you gave me.”

YN slapped her hands over her face, embarrassment overtaking the rush. “I can’t believe you reminded me of that!”

Beomgyu laughed, attempting to pull her hands away, but she wouldn’t budge.

“I wanted to experience this night with you,” he sighed, giving up and pulling her against his chest instead. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “I never saw myself going to prom, but when you asked me, all I could think about was how pretty you were gonna look.”

“Until you rejected me,” YN muttered.

Beomgyu squeezed her tight, a grimace falling over his face. “I deserve to be shamed for that. I know. I thought it was the right thing to do at the time, like a dumbass.”

YN picked her head up from her hands, looking up at Beomgyu as he looked down at her. She could see the regret he felt about that moment written all over his face. 

“Just like me when I said we should just be friends, huh?” She asked softly.

“Depends,” Beomgyu sighed. “Would it make a difference if I told you that I might be joining you in New York come spring?”

YN’s eyes widened, her mouth falling agape. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t get her voice out. All she could do was stare at him in bewilderment and squeeze his arms from shock. Beomgyu found it amusing. It was similar to the way he reacted when Mr. Kim told him. He could recall that moment like it just happened. Sitting in the chair facing Mr. Kim’s desk like he always was throughout the year, only instead of being scolded for his missing assignments or poor attendance record, he was waiting to hear the reflection on his performance in the spring musical. Mr. Kim praised him for his outstanding performance and display of great showmanship, a drastic change from the usual threats of detention for being a smartass in class.

“When did this happen?! What are you talking about?!” YN finally said, managing to break through her initial shock.

Beomgyu laughed, “Mr. Kim called me into his office to discuss my final grade and sprung it on me out of nowhere!”

“What did he say? What happened? I need to know it all!”

“He just made me read an email from NYU. They invited me to apply for the music program for the spring semester! I guess they liked me?” Beomgyu shrugged, trying to act nonchalant.

Beomgyu was satisfied knowing he passed his final assignment ensuring his seat at graduation, but when he got up to leave, Mr. Kim urged him to sit back down. They had gone over everything they needed to, what more could there be to discuss? The grin on Mr. Kim’s face was borderline unsettling as he turned his computer screen for Beomgyu to see. With his eyebrows furrowed, Beomgyu steadily leaned forward to get a clearer view and began reading the open email tab adorned with a familiar purple emblem at the top.

Dear Mr. Kim, We wanted to thank you again for hosting us as we conducted a final review for fall semester applicants. Your drama department is brimming with talent and it was a delightful treat to be able to see the passion among your students. Everyone at NYU is more than enthusiastic about the prospects you are producing. One of your students in particular grabbed our attention especially. After discussing with the rest of the board, we are honored to extend an invitation to Choi Beomgyu to apply for the upcoming spring semester at NYU Tisch for our music program. Beomgyu demonstrated an elite level of music and vocal performance that moved our recruiters. Let us know if you or Beomgyu have any questions. We look forward to hearing from him.

“What did your parents say?” YN asked.

“They don’t know yet,” Beomgyu sighed. “No one knows actually. You’re the first person I told.”

“When are you going to tell them? Are you even applying?”

“Oh, I’m applying,” Beomgyu assured. “I never thought I could get an offer to pursue music. I don’t want to pass this up!”

No matter what Beomgyu did or said, his parents were adamant about having him take over the family market when he was old enough. All those summers spent working alongside his father in the market instead of practicing the chords his grandfather taught him on guitar. Those times they told him to keep his music down and stop “screaming” all the time. He knew it would be hard to tell them about the NYU offer. And, it would be nearly impossible to get their blessing to apply. But, this felt like a once-in-a-lifetime chance to make something of his old dream. Even without their support, he knew he had friends who would have his back and give him that push.

“I’m so happy for you,” YN said softly, tears brimming in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly. She was overcome with joy and excitement at the thought of Beomgyu not only pursuing his dream but pursuing it alongside her in New York.

Beomgyu felt his own tears finally fall as he wrapped his arms around YN, finding peace in knowing it wouldn’t be the last time. He wouldn’t have to say goodbye this summer. He wouldn’t have to “make the most” out of every moment until she left for New York. For weeks, all he could dwell on was the idea of never being able to see her once she left. But now, the tension and worries were gone. He could enjoy their time together while they had it because their time apart could be numbered. They would be able to meet again one day in the new year when spring returns to gift them more precious memories like the spring they met.

[ note ] cheers cheers happy happy we scream and cry together aHHhHhh

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[sequinsmile-x]

Hi, would you like to write a new chapter of Retour Des Morts please? I think it'll be interesting to see how they come back after all that. Have you ever considered writing where Emily doesn't come back to the BAU? Sometimes, I think if she already has a home, she won't be doing what she did in canon. She might be more into building a new place and also reassuring Jack and Hotch (or whoever will come next :>)

hiiii bestie

Ever since you sent this in I have thought about this constantly. Retour Des Morts is one of my favourite things I've written, and the fact you asked for this close to two years after I wrote it means a lot.

I hope you like this and that it lives up to what you wanted <3

-x-

Retour à La Vie

Aaron and Emily work to put their life back together after she returns from the dead.

A sequel to Retour Des Morts

-x-

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: pregnancy, lots of big feelings

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

They get married within a week of her coming back from the dead. 

It’s not what she’d ever imagined her wedding would be like. There’s no white dress, no crowd of wellwishers watching with tissues clasped in their hands as she and Aaron exchanged vows. It’s just the two of them and Jack in the judge's chambers at the courthouse, a small bouquet Aaron had bought her that morning the only traditional sign that they were getting married. It’s no less special to her, no less meaningful, the happiness she feels when the judge declares them husband and wife overwhelming. 

The first kiss they shared as a married couple tasted of their tears with a chaser of desperation, the fact that just two weeks ago he’d thought she was dead not lost on either one of them. Whilst it’s not what she’d pictured she’s glad it’s what she ended up with, an intimate moment with the man she loves and the little boy she loves as her own. 

She knows Aaron was still struggling to believe it was real, that her suddenly being back with him wasn’t a cruel dream his subconscious was tormenting him with. She could feel it in how tightly he’d hold her, how he’d look for her in a room the moment he stepped into it. How he’d bury his face in her collarbone as they had sex, as if he wanted to crawl under her skin and stay there, desperately seeking solace in the place in her chest that she’d carved out for him years ago. 

She can’t blame him, because she feels the exact same way. It’s what she’d spent 7 months wishing for, what she’d pictured when she scrunched her eyes shut in a cold, uncomfortable bed in Paris, desperate to fall asleep. The memory of his embrace, of how having his arms around her would shut her brain off, stop all the noise that came with being her, just out of reach. 

When the team found out they’d married in secret the reactions were mixed. Fury, sadness and confusion at being left out painted across their friends' faces when they all went to Dave’s house for dinner. Their accusations of keeping a secret fell flat when Aaron reminded them, his glare fixed on JJ and Derek, that he’d been kept out of the loop on a lot of things. He was angry, and she was too, and she didn’t know if their relationships with the team, with the people she knew had made decisions to protect them both, would ever truly recover. 

She smiles as she hears the front door open, the tension in her chest that she felt every time she was separated from him, from her husband, dissipating immediately. She knew they couldn’t live like this forever, that it wasn’t healthy for them to be so codependent, but she was giving them both the grace they needed, and deserved, for now. She sits up and places her book down, not sure she’d absorbed anything she’d been reading, and her smile only gets wider as he steps into the room. 

“Hi honey,” she says softly, “How was work?” 

He blows out a steady breath and leans down to kiss her, stamping his lips against hers before he walks around it to join her. He places his briefcase on the coffee table and sits next to her, his hand heavy and warm as he places it on her thigh. 

“Long,” he replies gruffly, smiling when she raises her eyebrow at him, “I missed you.” 

She places her hand on his, rubbing her thumb back and forth over his wedding ring, “I missed you too.” 

She’d made the decision not to back to work yet. The thought of it paralysed her, fear she didn’t quite understand overwhelming her every time she thought about it. She was unsure if she even wanted to go back, if she wanted to put herself back in the line of fire in a dangerous job when she’d already lost so much. She also knew Aaron and Jack had been through so much too, they’d buried her. They’d mourned her, and she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to forgive herself if they had to do that again. 

She wasn’t sure they’d be able to forgive her either, and the thought of that hurt more than anything. 

Her gaze drifts from their joint hands to his briefcase, and she frowns slightly when she sees a newspaper sticking out of it, a circled home in the open real estate section visible through the open zip. She smiles at her husband curiously, her head tilted as her eyes meet his. 

“Are you planning on moving sometime soon?” She asks, reaching for the newspaper and pulling it out, her eyebrows raised as she realises it’s one of many circled homes on the first page alone, “Or are you starting a new career in real estate and you don’t know how to tell me?” Her smile fades when she looks at him again, the tension in his jaw, the way he avoids her gaze, enough to make concern flood her belly, “Aaron?”

He sighs and shakes his head at himself, his lips pressed together as he tries to find a way to tell her. He’d wanted to wait a little while, to figure out how to broach the subject. She loved this house. They’d spent weeks going to viewings and looking for somewhere perfect, but he was starting to feel suffocated here. 

Any joy he had once found in these walls had been buried with her, but they hadn’t come back from the dead, hadn’t crawled out of the hole he’d forced it into. 

“I…I’ve been thinking it would be good for us to find somewhere new,” he says, and she stares at him, her mouth falling open slightly as his unexpected confession washes over her. 

“Oh,” she says, her eyes drifting back down to the newspaper, the pages crinkling slightly in her tight grip. 

“Yeah,” he replies, clearing his throat, hating the tension that had quickly filled the room, “I think we need a fresh start. Jack too.” 

She furrows her brows as she looks up at him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she blows out a steady breath, “But…we love this house.” 

He doesn’t understand the anger that licks through him, burning in his veins in a way it so rarely did, a phantom that had haunted him since his childhood, something he could never quite outrun.

“We held your wake in this room, Emily,” he says, harsher than he means to, the way her eyes widen, how she recoils away from him ever so slightly, the thing that calms him down. He sighs as guilt chases away his anger. “You sit in this room and you think of the night we moved in. When we sat on the floor with Jack and ate pizza because the couch hadn’t been delivered yet,” he says, unable to stop smiling at the memory, but it fades quickly, “I think of sitting right here with Jack after everyone left after your wake,” he clenches his teeth and looks down at his lap, tears burning in the back of his eyes, “I think of the fact I slept on this couch for weeks because even the spare rooms upstairs held too many memories.” 

She blows out a slow breath and looks up at the ceiling, shaking her head as she wipes away a stray tear from her cheek, “Aaron, I am so-”

“I don’t need you to keep apologising sweetheart,” he says, reaching for her hand and holding it desperately, her bones popping against each other, “I want to move past this with you. Move on with our lives and just…”

He drifts off, unsure how to put it into words and she squeezes his hand back. She places the newspaper down and shifts closer to him, their knees pressed together as she cups his cheek with her free hand, forcing him to look at her. 

“Just start living again,” she finishes for him, and he chuckles, the sound wet as it catches on his ribs, and he nods. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, clearing his throat as his voice cracks, “I want that more than anything.” 

She looks around the living room, at the memories on the walls in the form of photographs. At the tv stand they’d built together, the fireplace they decorated every season. She once thought she’d live here forever, that this was the place she’d build a family with him, but when she was gone, dead to him and almost everyone she knew, it wasn’t the house she’d missed.

It was him. It was Jack. They were her home.

“Okay,” she says quietly, resting her forehead against his, “We’ll find somewhere new,” she says, stroking her thumb back and forth over his cheek, lamenting the loss of his beard since he’d gone back to work. 

She smiles when his eyes get brighter and his smile gets wider, as if a weight she hadn’t known he was carrying had been lifted from his shoulders, “Really?”

She’d miss this house, but it was something she was willing to lose if it made him happier. She nods and kisses him, tasting the smile he presses against her lips.  

“Really.” 

___

Six Months Later 

Emily sighs as the car comes to a stop, nerves making her belly roll as she stares at Dave’s house. She lifts her hand to her mouth without thinking, ready to chew her cuticles, but Aaron catches her hand halfway, linking their fingers together and squeezing. She turns to look at him and smiles tightly, relaxing slightly as he lifts their joint hands to his lips to kiss her knuckles. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, squeezing her hand again as they drop to the centre console, “We don’t have to tell them tonight if you don’t want to.”

She smiles softly at him, love for him warming her from the inside out as he looks at her like she’s made of something precious and she shakes her head, “No, we should tell them,” she says, placing the hand not wrapped up in his on her slightly rounded belly, “I don’t think I’d be able to hide it much longer anyway, I’m starting to resemble a blimp.” 

She was convinced it would take a long time to get pregnant, the warnings of her doctors in France echoing around in her head as she and Aaron discussed expanding their family. They’d decided to start trying right away even though things had still been rocky at the time, their lives and their relationship on unsteady ground, their love for each other the only thing that kept them on track for the easier path ahead. It had surprised her when she stood in the bathroom of their old house with a positive pregnancy test just two months after she came home. Despite the timing not being ideal, she was happy, and she knew he was too. She was almost halfway through her pregnancy now, and she knew it was time to share the news with the people she once called her family

No one else other than Jack, Jessica and Emily’s doctor knew about the baby, about the little girl growing steadily under Emily’s skin. It wasn’t because she didn’t want their friends to know, but because of a lack of opportunity. Aaron saw them every day at work but she still hadn’t gone back. And now she never would. She’d met with Strauss only the day before and officially changed her career break into retirement from the FBI. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do going forward, what she’d do once she was more settled back into her life and her baby was born, but she knew it was the right decision. 

She wanted to be what she’d never had - a present parent, and she no longer felt like that was something she could do in a career that had almost killed her. 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, placing his hand over hers on her bump, “Both of you.” 

She hums and leans in to kiss him, stamping her lips against his before she pulls back, “Come on,” she says, “We’d better get in there before Dave sends out a search party.” 

As she steps out of the car she adjusts her sweater, making sure the baggy material isn’t clinging to her bump, and then she reaches for Aaron’s hand, squeezing it tightly as they approach the house. 

The evening is easier than she thought it would be, the slight tension she still felt at times around them, JJ in particular, more bearable than it used to be. If any of them notice she isn’t drinking wine they don’t mention it, all of them content to act as if nothing had changed, as if seven months ago she hadn’t been dead to almost everyone sitting around the dining table. 

“So, peaches, are you ever coming back to work?” Penelope asks, her lips pushed out in a pout as she looks at her friend, “I miss seeing your beautiful face in the office. "

Emily chuckles politely and she looks at Aaron and he nods, his hand on her knee under the table a much needed comfort. She takes a moment to breathe slowly before she looks at her friends.

“Yesterday I gave Strauss my official notice that I’m going to be retiring from the FBI,” she says, pressing her lips together when she sees the shock spread across their faces, a tidal wave of emotions sweeping through them all, “The paperwork has all been filled out, so I won’t be coming back.” 

The room falls into silence and it hangs over them all, cloying and suffocating like a thick blanket as her words sink in. 

“Why?” Spencer asks, the first to get his ability to speak back, “I thought you loved your job.” 

“I did,” she says, smiling sadly as she shakes her head, “I do. I just…” she looks at Aaron and any tension that had gathered in her chest disappears the moment their eyes meet, his love a balm for any ailment she felt, and she looks at her friends again, “I love my family more. This is the right thing for us. Jack is doing so much better now, and his therapist says it is partly because he has a more consistent life now,” she shrugs and chuckles humourlessly, “How can I take that away from him just because I like my job?” 

Dave sighs and sits backwards, his hands on the back of his head as he looks back and forth between her and Aaron, “That makes sense.”

Derek nods, clearly not agreeing but aware of his place in Emily’s life now, how he had lost her trust, “We’ll miss you, Princess. We already do.” 

She smiles and nods, “I’ll make more of an effort to come in and see you all,” she says, aware that she was partly to blame for how things were between them, that her resistance to going to the office whilst she was on her career break had been a factor. She places her hand over Aaron’s on her knee and links their fingers together, “Plus,” she says, clearing her throat in an attempt to hide her smile as she nods her head towards him, “I’ve already promised this one I’ll bring the baby in to see him all the time anyway.”

There’s another moment of silence, shock and joy rolled into one as it fills the air and her lungs, making her feel like she can breathe clearly for the first time since she’d got out of the car. The room descends into chaos, and Penelope is out of her chair before any of the others can even react, wrapping her arms tightly around Emily who is still sitting down. 

“You’re having a baby?” She squeals, making Emily chuckle with her enthusiasm, and she nods, placing her hand on Penelope’s arm that was tight around her neck. 

“Yes,” she laughs, “But only if you don’t choke me before she’s born.”

“She?” Penelope squeals again, forcing Derek to make a joke about his hearing as she switches to hug Aaron instead, and they all laugh in between congratulating them, and for a moment everything feels exactly as it should. 

Emily eventually steps out for some air and to grab another soda from the kitchen, shaking off Aaron’s attempts to go get it for her with nothing more than a soft smile. She rolls her neck and places her hand on her bump as she walks to the fridge, grateful for a moment of silence away from the dozens of questions. 

“Congratulations.” 

She turns and looks at JJ, her smile tight as she nods gratefully, “Thank you.”

JJ clears her throat as she steps closer, her arms tight over her chest as she looks at the floor, the awkwardness between them still as fresh as it was the day Emily came home, “So you’re 19 weeks along?” 

Emily nods, her hand on her belly as she sees JJ looking at it, “Yeah, I turn 20 weeks next Wednesday.”

JJ nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “And you said you’re having a girl.” 

She smiles, “Yeah, a girl,” she says, her smile getting wider when she feels the baby move as if she knew she was being spoken about, “Jack is excited, he said he wanted a little sister from the moment we told him.” 

JJ’s smile changes as she steps closer, sadness creeping in, somehow making her eyes seem darker, “There was a time when you would have told me the moment you found out.” 

Emily immediately feels anger rush through her, rolling in her belly alongside her daughter, and she clenches her teeth, but it’s not enough to capture the words that escape her, “Well, there was a time when I didn’t think you’d lie to me for 7 months,” she shrugs, “I guess things have changed.” 

JJ closes her eyes and shakes her head, “I don’t know how many times I have to say I did what I had to do,” she says as she looks at her, “One day you’re going to have to forgive me.”

She scoffs and shakes her head, “No I won’t,” she says firmly, her arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t have to forgive you for this. I don’t think I can.” 

“Em-”

“If it was just me…” Emily shouts, cutting over JJ before she clears her throat to calm herself down, her daughter’s kicks getting sharper as her blood pressure increases, “If it was just me,” she says again, her voice softer this time, “I would have been able to get past it. But you lied to Aaron, you let him and Jack think I was dead after they’d already lost Haley and I can’t get past that.” 

JJ clenches her jaw to stop herself from crying and looks up, “I did what I thought was right.” 

“We had to move. Because every corner of that house changed for them. Jack still has nightmares. He sleeps in our bed more often than he doesn’t and Aaron…” She shakes her head and looks away, turning her head so she can wipe away a stray tear before she looks back at her friend, “Sometimes when he first wakes up he still thinks it’s not real. He never says it, but I can see it in his eyes. The flash of panic, the relief when he realises I’m right there. I don’t know if I can forgive you for doing that to him.” 

They fall into silence and JJ sighs, running her fingers through her hair as she shakes her head, “I am sorry, Em. It was an impossible situation.”

“I know that,” she says, “And I know part of it is my fault, it’s because of my decisions before I’d even met Aaron. But your decisions put them through something we will live with our entire lives. I can’t forgive that but…I think one day I’ll be able to live with it.” 

The spark of joy that flashes across JJ’s face makes her ache, “Really?” 

She nods and chokes on a laugh, “Yeah,” she says, wiping away another tear from her cheek, “Really. My little girl is going to need her Aunt JJ to balance out the crazy from Aunt Pen.” 

JJ laughs, the sound catching on a sob as she pulls Emily into a hug, and it feels like a step in the right direction.

___

Six Months Later

Emily shushes her daughter as she paces the living room, holding the two-month-old against her chest as she pats her back, burping her after her 3 am feed.

“I know sweet girl,” she mumbles against the baby’s temple as she fusses, wholly against the idea of settling back down to sleep, “Life is so hard when you’re 8 weeks old and Mommy can’t constantly feed you.” 

Renee was born on her due date, arriving right on time into the world in a way Emily had joked ever since was something she’d inherited from Aaron. He’d always reply that he was glad she’d got something from him, since the baby girl was Emily’s double in every other way. She couldn’t deny it, as the weeks passed the resemblance became even clearer, and features she’d hated her whole life on her own face, such as her nose, were suddenly beautiful to her when she saw them on her daughter. 

“Give her a break, she just happens to love your breasts.” 

She smiles wryly as she turns to look at her husband, her eyebrow raised as his eyes meet hers from where he is standing in the doorway, “Well, at least that’s another thing she got from you.” 

He chuckles and walks over, stamping a quick kiss against her lips, “True enough,” he says, kissing her again before he pulls back, “Have you been awake for long?” 

She shakes her head and looks down to see Renee is now fast asleep against her, “Maybe 30 minutes or so,” she replies, walking over and slowly lowering herself to the couch, “I’m sorry if we woke you up.” 

“You didn’t,” he says as he joins her, his arm automatically around her shoulders as she settles against his side, “I woke up and you were gone so…”

It was the year anniversary of her return from the dead, of the start of the journey they’d been walking together ever since. Sometimes it felt like no time at all, like she’d blinked and she was here with him and their children in a new house. Other times she could feel every second, every moment of doubt and pain and sadness that they’d had as they navigated to where they were now. To the life she liked to think they both deserved. Quiet and so achingly normal she sometimes wanted to cry at the beautiful simplicity of it all. 

She hears what he hasn’t said, what his brain will still trick him into even a year later, and she sighs sadly, pressing her lips against his cheek, “We’re right here.” 

“I know,” he says, capturing her lips in a kiss, “My girls.” 

She smiles and nods, the moniker never failing to warm her from the inside out even though he’d said it countless times ever since they’d found out they were having a daughter. 

“Your girls,” she confirms, kissing him again before she turns her attention back to the sleeping baby on her chest, “Sometimes I still can’t quite believe I have all of this.” 

He wasn’t the only one who was prone to thinking that this was all too good to be true, that one day she’d wake up and she’d still be in Paris, the last year of her life nothing more than a fantasy she had come up with to sleep through the night. 

“You do sweetheart,” he says, kissing the side of her head as his hand shifts to the back of Renee’s head, his fingers following the swirling pattern of her dark hair.

“We’re all right here,” he says, repeating her words, “Rey is right here with us, Jack is upstairs in his room,” he says, kissing the right of her head, “We’re all here.” 

She nods, turning her head so her forehead is pressed against his cheek, the feeling of his breath skipping across her skin relaxing her, a gentle reminder of what she had now, what she’d once died to protect. 

“Yeah,” she says, “We really are.” 

-x-

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Afterglow

Chapter Twelve of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Thirteen

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5.5K

Chapter Overview: Frankie brings Estrella lunch & more than one secret is exchanged between group members

TW: p in v penetration, sex in public (sort of), mentions of past sexual assault, trauma and PTSD

Notes: hey everyone !! cheers to me for not taking a month to put out this chapter lololol,, i think this one might be in my top three of the chapters i've written for through the scope so please let me know what y'all think ! as usual...my asks are always open & happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You haven’t seen your dad in a little over a week so there is a lot to catch each other up on. When you get there, he isn’t using a cane this time. He traded in his singular cane for two forearm crutches. You aren’t sure if this signals an improvement or a decline and guilt sweeps through your body. Maybe if you had been here instead of with the guys, you would know the answer to your mental question. You moved here to support him after all. It feels like your life is being pulled in two separate directions and it's killing you that you haven’t had time to finally unify them. 

You’re nervous to tell your dad about Frankie. It doesn’t have anything to do with being ashamed or embarrassed of him, but it has always been easier to talk with your mom about boys and dating. Moments like this cause you to miss her more than normal. After the both of you discuss his weekly progress and PT sessions, you decide to change the subject. You know that he’s tired of having to talk about his recovery all the time even though he would never turn you down if and when you asked. 

“So, what’s new with you and your girlfriend?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It feels weird to inquire about a prospective suitor in your dad’s life. You’re not ignorant to the fact that he may be lonely, but it doesn’t take away the strangeness of it. Your mother was the first love of his life, yet that doesn’t mean that she has to be the last.

“The date went well if that’s what you’re getting at.”

You realize that he must be just as nervous to talk to you about Maggie as you are to talk to him about Frankie. 

“Are you going to see her again?”

“I see her everyday.” He snorts sarcastically. Although, when he sees that you’re less than amused with his joke he pipes up again. “Yeah, I think so. I want to get strong enough to take her to a restaurant. I know I said that the place doesn’t matter, but I’m getting restless.”

“But not before our car show, right? You said you wanted to do that first.”

“But not before the car show.” He echos. “Don’t worry, Sweet Pea. You’re still my number one girl.” His hand comes to rest over yours lovingly. “How’s work coming along? And your friends?”

“Work is going really great. I actually like what I do if you can believe it or not. The fights we host on Friday nights have also been a blast to watch.” He didn’t need to know that you spent the last fight night parading around half naked for a room full of drunk men and women. Even if you are an adult, some things are better kept secret. “My friends are great too.”

“Is that why you haven’t been stopping by as frequently lately?”

There is no disappointment or sadness in his voice when he asks you this question. If anything, you think you can detect some happiness and hope.

“Sort of.” You fidget around in your chair. “I had actually been seeing one of them for a few weeks, Frankie, and he asked me to be his girlfriend the other day.”

“Did he now?” He sits up straighter and has adopted a more protective, fatherly tone.

“Yes, he did.” You answer without bothering to hide your growing smile. “He’s so wonderful, dad. He has been nothing but kind and caring since I met him. All the guys have been, if I’m being honest, but I was only ever interested in Frankie.”

“What does he do for a living?”

You can feel your dad trying to mentally size him up.

“He’s a mechanic at a local auto body shop currently, but he was a pilot in the military before that. All of the guys served together.”

“A man who works with his hands and who served his country. That’s very respectable.”

“I think so.” Your voice sounds proud in your ears.

Your dad is traditional, for better or for worse, so you knew he would be pleased with Frankie’s occupations. He kept asking you questions about Frankie which you happily answered, but you never let his tumultuous past come into the conversation. Yes, that’s a part of Frankie, but that isn’t who he is anymore.

“I want to meet this man.” Your dad says finally. “I want to see who’s got you smiling like this.”

“Maybe he can come to the car show with us and you can meet him then? It’s still a very new relationship, you know. That way I’ll have some extra time to see if it’s serious or not. I don’t want to waste your time with someone I’m not going to keep around.”

You are surprised when he readily agrees with your proposal. You were sure he was going to fight you on meeting Frankie sooner, not that you minded, but it's nice to know that he trusts your judgment. 

“It might be refreshing to have someone there that actually knows a thing or two about cars.” He teases.

“Maybe he’ll give you a run for your money knowledge wise, huh?” You joke back.

You hang out with him for about another hour before y’all call it a night. As you walk to your car you recall what you told your dad. I don’t want to waste your time with someone I’m not going to keep around. The truth is that you know Frankie is someone worth keeping around. You can feel it in your very bones. You know that the care you have for him now will only grow in the coming months and you can’t wait to see what it blooms into you. Although, you already have a small idea. 

***

“I’m goin’ to have to miss our lunch today.” Benny rounds the brick wall and walks up to the side of your desk patting his forehead with a towel. “I have been meanin’ to go down to the police station ever since Rochelle went ballistic.”

“Wait, what?” You spin your chair to face him, handing him a water bottle. “I thought everything got taken care of that night? How come you are going down there?”

“The officers and I got to talkin’ and they told me that I could file a restrainin’ order against her. Would have done it right then and there if it didn’t have so much damn paperwork involved. I just want to make sure that it never happens again, for both your and Fish’s sake.”

“Oh, Benny.” You reach up and rub his arm.

“Think you can hold it down for at least a couple of hours? I’m not sure how long everythin’ will take me to complete.” He places his hand over yours and you aren’t sure who’s comforting who anymore.

“I can handle it. Don’t worry about me.” You turn your attention to the computer. “Your Thursday schedule is really light too. Just a few one on one sessions late this afternoon.”

He nods approvingly before heading back into the gym. “I’m goin’ to head out in about 10 minutes then. Don’t miss me too much.”

“I’ll be counting the seconds until you come back.” You say in a sarcastic, dreamy voice.

As soon as Benny heads back, you whip out your phone to text Frankie.

You: Please tell me you haven’t taken your lunch break yet.

Frankie: I was going to clock out for it in about 15 minutes. Why? What’s up?

You: Benny has to leave for a few hours to run some errands…maybe you could have lunch over here today? Just you and me?

Frankie: I would love that, cariño. Too bad the rest of the gym rats can’t run some errands too.

A cheeky grin splays across your face as you type your next message.

You: It would be a shame if the ‘open’ sign accidentally flipped to ‘closed’ when you got here…wouldn't it?

Frankie: Such a shame indeed.

You: I’ll text you when he heads out! I can’t wait to see you, Frankie (:

The Miller boys are nothing if not punctual. Benny heads out exactly when he said he would with promises of being back in time for his sessions later this evening. You’re so excited that you fire off a ‘coast is clear’ text to Frankie before Benny has even finished pulling out of the parking lot.

Frankie: On my way to you, Estrella.

You feel giddy like you have never felt before. This feeling warms your entire body, but turns into a raging fire when you see that familiar white truck pull into view 20 minutes later. He hops out cradling a takeout bag in his arms. You eagerly greet him at the front door and rise up on your tiptoes to hug him. 

“How’s your day been?” He asks before stealing a kiss. 

The domesticity of the question makes your heart flutter. 

“It’s much better now. And yours?”

“I think I have to agree.” 

He takes your hand and starts to lead the both of you back to your desk.

“Oh, wait! Before I forget!” You flip the sign on the door to display the ‘closed’ side. “Okay, now we can eat.”

He laughs to himself while he starts to unpack the food he brought. It’s a sound that makes your knees weak. Turns out he got y’all sandwiches from a place by his work that he had been wanting you to try.

“I made sure that they didn’t put anything on it that you didn’t like.” He says sliding your meal over to you gingerly. “And I made sure that they put extra of what you love.”

For some reason, Frankie remembering something so small about you has you extremely turned on. You feel crazy for wanting to jump his bones over something as mundane as meat in between bread, but you can’t help it. Maybe it’s the fact that he did all this out of the kindness of his heart or maybe it’s the fact that he looks so excited for you to try it. Regardless, you need him right now.

“Have you-have you ever had a tour of the gym?” If you were any less horny, you would be embarrassed at how clearly you can hear the desperation in your voice. 

He looks slightly confused at your sudden topic change. “Sure. I mean we helped Benny furnish the place back when he bought it.” Your growing need for him must have been plastered across your face because realization settles over him. “But maybe you have something to show me?”

You hum in response and curl your finger at him to follow you back into the gym. Walking past the workout benches, the boxing ring, and the heavy bags you hold your breath. Frankie footsteps are quick and heavy behind yours as you make a beeline for the laundry room. You open the door to slip inside and feel yourself clench around nothing when he slams the door closed behind him. Faster than you can comprehend, Frankie grabs your arm and spins you around to face him. His lips are attacking yours in a crazed frenzy. Your senses are being drowned out by his heavy breathing and his hands hungrily roaming your body. As your arms wrap around his neck, his own circle your lower back and lift you off the ground. You can feel the burn of the cold metal against your thighs since you decided to dawn a tennis skirt this morning. The abrupt change in temperature causes you to breathe in quickly and you smile as he tugs at your lower lip. 

“Like what you see on my tour?” Your breaths are ragged as he has moved on to devour the side of your neck.

“Like is an understatement.”

He continues to kiss red marks on your skin, that you will inevitably have to cover up later, as you work at unfastening his belt and unzipping his jeans. When you achieve your goal, he helps finish the rest. Frankie steps back and pulls himself up and over his boxers. Your clit pulses at the sight. He skillfully flips the bottom of your skirt up to reveal the spandex shorts underneath and uses his left hand to move them and your panties to the side. Frankie's eyes illuminate at the glorious sight of you bare in front of him. Taking himself in his hand, he lines up at your soaking entrance, and fills you up in one motion.

“That’s my girl.” He moans into your ear. “Take me just like that.”

He starts moving once he knows you have adjusted to his size. His pace is firm and steady as he starts massaging your clit with his left thumb. Your head is just starting to roll back while you sink into this moment with Frankie, when an unmistakable sound rings out. Both of you freeze and lock eyes.

“Estrella…” You can tell it's killing him not to move while he’s buried in your cunt. “Was that the fucking door bell?”

“Maybe.” Your breath catches when he decides to thrust forward as if urging you to elaborate. “Didn’t lock the door. Thought the sign would be enough.”

You almost miss your name being called out from inside the gym because you’re too wrapped up in the way Frankie feels inside you. 

“Fuck. Let me,” You gasp. “Let me go see what he wants. Stay here.”

He groans, but concedes knowing that this is something you need to take care of so he can sink inside you again. Frankie pulls out and gently pulls your underwear and shorts back over. You stifle a laugh at the precarious situation that you currently find yourself in. Poking only your head outside the door, your eyes fall on the unwelcome intruder.

“Hey, Jacobs! Sorry I wasn’t at the door to check you in! I decided to do some deep cleaning in the laundry room today while Benny ran errands.” You pray that your flushed face isn’t a dead give away to what was just going on. 

“No worries!” He hollers back from where he's standing at the weights. “I was just a little freaked out to see the place so quiet. Usually Benny has it bumping in here.”

You sense him before you feel him. Frankie places his hands on the hem on your skirt and pulls it down past your ass. When he reveals what he's looking for, you feel him ghosting just outside your pussy. 

“Keep talking to him.” He quietly grunts while bottoming out. “Better act natural if you don’t want to get caught, baby. Wouldn’t want Jacobs to know that you’re getting fucked in public like a little slut, do you?”

Chills run down your arms and legs, littering your skin with goosebumps in their wake. Frankie has never called you that before, but you fucking like it.

“Yeah.” You struggle out, trying to ignore how much faster Frankie has started pumping now. “I decided to just play my music in here. Feel free to turn your earbuds up really loud. I wouldn’t want my bad singing to interrupt your- fuck- your workout!”

Frankie has snaked his hand around to the front of your skirt and slithered down to find your clit, catching you completely off guard. 

“Are you alright?” Jacobs asks earnestly, looking confused and taking a few steps towards the room you’re in.

“F-fine! I’m totally fine! The cleaning products I'm using just started to give me a migraine, but I turned on the vent. Problem solved.”

You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up for. This performance that you’re putting on isn’t going to win you an Oscar, but you’re hoping that it's sufficient enough to ward off Jacobs.

“Do you need any medicine or -?”

“That’s really sweet, but I’m all good. I already took some.” Your knees start to shake as your climax nears. Frankie isn’t helping the situation at all by lifting up the back of your shirt and kissing along your spine. “Also it's probably best if you steer clear of this side of the gym. I wouldn’t want the cleaning products to affect you too.”

“Right uhh okay. Sounds good.” He smiles weakly at you before waving. “Feel better.”

“Thanks!” You wince slightly as Frankie slides his hand under your bra and starts to tweak your nipple. “I’m starting to feel better already!”

You don’t think you have ever closed a door so fast in your entire life.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.” You huff, bracing yourself on the shut door.

Frankie, without pulling out, turns you to where you can now rest your upper body on the washing machine lid. You know he’s having too much fun messing with you.

“If you kill me, Estrella, how am I supposed to make you feel better?”

If you thought he was being merciless before, you were mistaken. He grips your hips tightly as he drills into you from behind. You bite down on your arm to silence the flow of moans and whimpers that escape you. Catching your thoughts drifting to the possibility of being heard, your walls contract around the man inside you. 

“Tell me what’s going on inside that beautiful mind of yours.” He says gruffly. 

“Getting caught.” You whine softly. 

“It’s turning you on? Fuck.” His hands cut deeper into your skin. “I know you liked what I said to you earlier. I saw your body react.” 

Another wave of chills encapsulates your body at the mere thought of it.

“You like getting fucked like the whore you were dressed as the other night?” Tears prick your eyes as the metaphorical rope twists tighter in your belly. It’s seconds away from snapping. “You like being a whore just for me, Estrella?” 

Your body answers for you, soaking him in your climax. He lowers his head and whispers sweet nothings into your ear while you see stars all around you. Your euphoria isn’t enough to make you forget to answer him.

“I love being a whore just for you. I’ll do anything you ask me too.”

With those words, you feel him coming hard. He moans lowly while his hip buck and you can feel him completely emptying himself. God, you could get addicted to that. When he pulls out, you brace yourself using the sides of the washing machine. He quickly finds a soft, freshly washed towel to clean you up with. Urgency doesn’t exist at this moment. You know that he enjoys the after just as much as the before.

“You know, the first time I saw you in the photo Benny has hanging in here, I was awestruck.” The two of you are now sitting together, backs against the washer and hands intertwined, on the laundry room floor. “He had completely left the room and I didn’t even notice because I was trying to wrap my head around how it was possible for this stranger to be that handsome.”

You look over at Frankie to see him smiling to himself and staring down at your joined hands. The apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears have adopted a soft pink hue. His shyness makes you remember that compliments were few and far between in his last relationship. You are going to make sure that he never goes unappreciated while he’s with you. You are going to make sure he knows how deserving he is to hear words like that.

“How crazy that in just a few months time, I would be holding that stranger's hand and sharing a bed with him on a regular basis. You make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world, do you know that? After some things that happened when I was younger, I didn’t think men like you existed.”

“What happened when you were younger?” His voice is cautious.

“I had this friend, a guy, that I would hang out with all the time when I was 19. One night, we were at his house drinking and watching a movie. I guess I drank a little more than I thought because the rest of the night comes in flashes.” You close your eyes and inhale sharply. “I remember laying on the couch and listening to the sound of the movie floating in and out of my ears. Then there are hands that I don’t want grabbing me, pulling at my clothes, and touching my hair. I could smell the-the tequila on his breath. It made my stomach twist in the most violent way. I ended up passing out before the worst of it. I don’t know what's worse: remembering or having no memory at all.” 

You open your eyes and turn your head to look at him. There was a part of you that was scared to see the emotions reflecting on his face. Would he look at you differently? Would he think of you as damaged goods? Some stupid girl who put herself in a compromising situation? Would he be afraid to touch you after this? Would he think of you as some small breakable object now that he knows the truth?

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I-”

“Estrella, it wasn’t your fault.” You close your eyes again because they sting with tears. “You were with someone you thought you could trust. You were doing something that you thought was safe. It wasn’t your fault. Everything, every single thing, is on him. He desecrated the friendship that you gave him. It doesn’t matter how much or how little you drank that night. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.” 

He grips your hand tighter and leans his head against yours. You listen to his breathing and use it to regulate your own. For the first time in your life you really let it sink in. The fact that it wasn’t your fault, that it wasn’t your doing. Robbie always told you that. She never once blamed you for it. You knew she was right when she said it, but some part of you simply refused to believe it. Holding onto the misplaced guilt was your way of protecting yourself or punishing yourself. But, now? Now that you actually said the words ‘I know’? You could feel your shoulders releasing a load that they were never meant to be carrying in the first place. The scars would still be there, yet now perhaps they could fade.

“It’s me who’s lucky.” He says after a while, bringing y’alls laced hands up to his lips and kissing the back of yours. “It’s not often that you’re given a second chance in life. It’s also not often that the second chance is this woman who’s compassionate, understanding, intelligent, loving, and beautiful.” As he lists each characteristic, he kisses the corresponding tips of your fingers. “When I first saw your photo,” He sighs, remembering back to that day. “I wanted to kiss you on the bridge of your nose. Right here. I couldn't shake the feeling that my lips would fit perfectly.”

You giggle faintly as he takes his free hand and pokes it at your nose after he wiped away your stray tears.

“Why don’t you test out your theory then?”

His velvety brown eyes are the last thing you see before you close your own. You feel him let go of your hand and then cup the sides of your face. His beard tickles your skin as he lowers his lips to his destination. You can’t help but echo his sigh when you feel him connect with the bridge of your nose. He was right, you think, it’s a perfect fit. The two of you are a perfect fit. You open your eyes when he slowly pulls away. He looks so at ease staring back at you. 

“What’s your conclusion?” You whisper.

“Just as I suspected,” He leans his forehead against yours. “It’s like it was made for me.”

***

You and Benny are almost done with y’alls nightly clean up. The only thing left to do is to take the dirty towels into the laundry room so you can run a load in the morning. The two of you chat easily as he opens the door for you since you’re carrying the dirty towel basket. When he doesn’t immediately move out of the doorway, you lightly bump the basket into his back.

“Earth to Benny. This thing is getting heavy and I would like to set it down now.”

He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder and gives you a devilish grin. Bumping the door the rest of the way open with his hip, he leans down and picks something up off the ground. 

“Isn’t this strange?” He says, turning to face you fully. “What would Fish’s cap be doin’ in our laundry room?”

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. They seem to be permanently stuck in an ‘o’ position.

“Are you goin’ to tell me what went down while I was gone?” His shit eating grin has somehow managed to get bigger.

“Are you going to tell me what ‘operation catch-a-fish’ was?” You ask smugly, finally finding your voice.

Benny opens his mouth to combat your question, but just laughs instead. “Looks like both of our lips are sealed then.”

“Perhaps you could unseal yours for another question?” You push past him and set down what you were carrying. “It’s about Will.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re leaving Catfish for my brother.”

“No, you asshat!” You pop him in the arm as he laughs again. “I want to set him up with Robbie.”

“Ahhhh I see. You want to play matchmaker.” 

“I want him to be happy. I think he and Robbie would really hit it off too. She’s coming down in a few weeks and I want to start planting the seed in that vast mind of his. I just wasn’t sure how he feels about dating right now and was hoping you would.”

A bittersweet look washes over Benny’s face at your confession. You can tell that he wants to tell you something, but he’s stopping himself. 

“You’re going to tell me to ask him in person, aren’t you?”

He smiles weakly and motions to leave the laundry room, making sure to take Frankie’s hat with him. “Just like I told you with Fish, it’s not my place to get into all of Will’s business. Between you and me, I think he’s lonely, but he would never admit it. I’m personally onboard with hookin’ him up with your friend, but just talk to him. He and the rest of the guys are on their way here to meet me at the bar right now.”

After doing a final sweep of the place, the two of y’all grab your things and lock up. Sure enough the guys are all leaning against the bed of Frankie’s truck waiting. 

“Hola, hermosa!” Pope pulls you in for a bear hug as soon as you approach them.

“Hi, Santi!” You hug him back with just as much force. “Believe it or not, I’ve missed you this week.”

“Who wouldn’t miss me?” He asks playfully as you pull away.

“Stop hogging her, Pope.” Frankie nudges his friend out of the way so he can hug you. “Long time no see, Estrella.” 

“Yeah, speakin’ of ‘long time no see’, Fish.” Benny produces the left behind cap and tosses it over. “Next time you sneak over, it’s probably best that you don’t leave a callin’ card, hm?” His voice is mischievous.

“Oh I- I just came by to drop off lunch and-”

“Save it, lover boy.” He winks at him.

Even under the dim street lights, you can see that Frankie’s cheeks have adopted a soft blush. You kiss his shoulder before turning your attention to the man you have been meaning to speak too.

“Howdy, Will.” You speak bashfully as he pulls you into him.

“Saved the best for last. I knew I liked you, hon.” 

“Come on! Let’s go get some fuckin’ drinks!” Benny says, throwing his arm around Pope’s shoulder. “It’s been a day!”

“You filled out paperwork at the police station for the majority of the day, you big baby.” You counter.

The rest of the group clearly wasn’t privy to Benny’s plans today by the quizzical look on all of their faces. 

“Calm down. I was goin’ to fill y’all in tonight at the bar. The quicker we get there, the quicker y’all get to hear. So, let's get a move on.”

Benny, Pope, and Will all start walking while Frankie holds an outstretched hand for you to take hold of. You want to make sure you talk to Will before either of y’all are slurring your words, so you quietly, but quickly fill Frankie in on your plan for Robbie and Will. He seems to have the same reaction as Benny did. Concern mixed with approval. Frankie volunteers to go into The Barrel with Pope and Benny so you can talk to Will without having an audience. 

“Will? Can you stay out here for a second?” 

He is holding the door open for you after letting the other men into the establishment.

“What’s on your mind, doll?” 

“I wanted to ask you about your stance on dating right now. My friend, Robbie, is coming down to visit me in a few weeks and I think you would really like her. I was hoping that you would let me set you up with her, but I wanted to see what you thought about that before I got ahead of myself.”

He puts his hands on his hips and lets out a low whistle.

“I haven’t taken much of a shine to datin’ since my fiancée left me a while back.” 

You feel like you just got the wind knocked out of you. “You were engaged?! I didn’t know that.”

“Once upon a time I was, yeah.” He holds up his wedding ring ringer. “Never made it to the aisle though.”

“Can I ask what happened? Or do you not want to talk about it?”

“I don’t mind sharin’ with you.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It just might change the way you see me though.” 

“I’d never judge you, Will.” You say sincerely.

“About five or six years ago, when I was on leave, I found myself standin’ in the middle of the cereal aisle at the Publix with my arm around some guys throat.” He takes a deep breath. “I was squeezin’ so hard he pissed himself. My fiancée at the time had to climb on my back just so I didn’t actually kill the guy. Do you know why I was doin’ this?”

You shake your head at him.

“Because he hadn’t moved his cart when I asked.” He rubs his eye briefly. “I flipped out on some poor innocent bastard because he was stoppin’ me from gettin’ some goddamn cereal.”  

“Will, that’s not your fault. It was an involuntary reaction.”

“But it was. I put his life, my fiancée’s life, and that entire store full of people’s lives in danger because I shut down and just reacted like I was trained to do. I loved what I did to serve my country, but I didn’t realize at the time how committin’ acts of extreme violence on other human beings would affect me biologically.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” You long for a phrase that can convey the true depth of your sorrow for what he went through. “I’m so sorry, Will.”

“I’ll be honest with you, I want to start datin’ again, but I guess I can’t bring myself too. I don’t want to hurt another woman the way I hurt my fiancée.”

You take his hand in yours. “The work you do with and for all the other vets has given you the tools to effectively navigate the trauma and PTSD you have from the military. I know that it never really goes away, but what matters is that you're trying to work through it. Everyday I’m sure something happens that triggers you or takes you back to moments that you would rather not relive. I wish to God that I could take that pain away from you, Will, but I know I can’t. What I can do is support you and I’m always going to do that. I trust you no matter what.”

He doesn’t say a word as he pulls you in for a bone crushing hug. You wrap your arms around him and hope he can feel how much you truly care about him through your touch. The two of you stay embracing for a few minutes until you feel him let out a heavy sigh and let go. 

“So,” He says, opening the bar's door once again. “Tell me about this friend of yours.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson @megcads @myloveistoolittle @casa-boiardi @jitterbugs927 @partyofone3413 @pedrit0-pascalit0 @golden-library @pati-et-vivere @mashomasho @lilmizmoz @angstylittlepascal @sofiparallel @selflcontrol @adriennemichelle98 @painitemoondust @pedritosgirl2000 @tpwkmera @romanarose @missbabyjay @3sriracha @rhoorl }

[freakymcnastys]

borderline. - chapter one [the chain]

━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ "where i couldn’t get away."

context: circa s2...so imagine s2 sam and dean

word count: 4.5k (i got carried away sorry)

THE WINCHESTERS HAD been searching for a new job for the past several days. Sam and Dina had been cooped up inside lousy motels while Dean ventured out searching for girls. Most days, Sam and Dina would fall asleep at the small dinner table and Dean would fall onto the nearest mattress he could find. But recently, Sam had been following a case out west; it was only a couple of hours out and Sam was tired of being locked up. So, he figured what the hell.

"Hey uhh there's this case happening in South Dakota and I wanna check it out..." Sam started, handing Dean a cup of coffee and Dina a glass of orange juice. Dean's eyes blinked slowly and Dina clapped her hands quietly; celebrating the idea of finally getting back on the job. "Well, Sammy do explain..." Dina teased, giving her attention to the boy.

Sam explained all the details about the killings and how they all said ‘an angel came to them’, oftentimes interrupting himself to feed ideas into his siblings’ heads about what to look out for when hunting. Dina seemed intrigued and poor Dean could barely stay awake. Dina agreed almost immediately, and after a little convincing, the Winchesters were packing up their bags and heading toward the Impala.

. . .

The drive had been the most memorable part of the trip so far. The Winchesters had been in South Dakota for almost 3 days and had found squat. Sam lay on the bed facing the ceiling and Dina was sitting on the couch looking through John's old notebook, hoping to find something...anything. "Dude, have you found something in there yet?" Dean mumbled, grabbing a beer from the fridge before sitting next to Dina and looking over at Sam.

Dina searched the pages for anything the trio hadn't seen yet. Dina and Sam had discussed earlier in the day what they thought this entity could have been so Dina was trying to find information about it inside the notebook. Dean wasn't paying attention when Dina began to speak, "Hey Sam come here..." In a moment of hope, Sam hopped up from the bed, walked over to the other side of Dina, and slumped over the couch to look at the initials Dina was pointing at. "Who's MC?" Dina questioned, looking up at the older boy for an answer. Dean looked over at the sudden question, trying to recall if John had introduced someone by those initials to him. "I've never heard of 'em..." Dean stated, shaking his head. "Look there's a number..." Sam pointed out, grabbing his phone from out of his pocket.

"Hey, this is MC...I can't come to the phone right now....leave a message."

Dina groaned loudly, clearly aggravated by their current situation. Dean got up and paced toward the small dinner table inside the motel. Sam looked over toward Dean. "Maybe Ellen knows?"

. . .

The bar was having an uneventful night. Ellen was making conversation with someone seated at the hightops when the phone rang. She quickly excused herself before grabbing the phone off the wooden pillar it was nailed to. "Harvelle's Roadhouse this is Ellen." Sam replied in a gentle tone, "Hey, Ellen..." Ellen's eyes light up almost instantly, smiling at the sound of Sam's voice. "Sam Winchester...what a surprise. How can I help you?" There was a slight pause. "Do you know who MC is? They're written down in Dad's notebook and we really...need some help right now."

A redhead poked her head up at the sight of Ellen's discomfort, she was intrigued. Ellen looked over at her before speaking, "Yeah that's Mike...Mike Cunningham..." Now the redhead was fully paying attention, the sudden mention of MC striking a nerve inside the girl. "Mike was...the best hunter John and I ever knew...he was a genius too. He passed a couple months ago."

On the other side of the phone, the Winchesters groaned.

"Oh that's terrible Ellen I'm so-"

 "It's ok, Sam."

Ellen looked over at the redhead, who had a sad frown on her face. Ellen gave her a warm smile before mouthing 'You want a job?' in her direction. She smiled, her red locks falling in front of her face. She took a final sip of her drink before giving Ellen a slow nod. "Hey Sam- I um... Mike's friend is here and I could send her over to ya. Only if you want."

Dean rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed with the idea of someone else joining them on a hunt, but before he could say anything Dina perched in. "Yes please!!"

Sam laughed and listened to Ellen ask some general questions about where they were staying and what names they had checked in under. Ellen had written them onto a napkin and handed them off to the girl before hanging up the phone. In an instant, the redhead was off the stool and heading for the door. "Hey!" Ellen yelled, causing the redhead to turn on the heels of her boots. "Don't scare 'em. They're just kids." The redhead let out a laugh and pushed some of her hair behind her ear. "I won't."

. . .

The Winchesters went to sleep hopeful and woke up in a haze. Dean seemed more reluctant about this mystery girl joining them and Dina had been bouncing off the walls since she had woken up. "Dina, would you slow down?" Dean questioned, annoyed as the three of them walked toward a nearby diner to get some breakfast. "I'm sorry I've never met a girl hunter before! I need a girlfriend to hang out with." Sam laughed and Dean rolled his eyes, "You heard what Ellen said it was one of his friends. She's probably some old lady..." Dina and Sam laughed in unison as they made their way into the small restaurant. 

While the Winchesters were enjoying their family breakfast Buffy pulled into the motel’s parking lot. The redhead parked her motorcycle beside the Impala, she assumed it was theirs. She grabbed her keys before making her way toward the motel clerk seated at the front desk. "Hi! I'm looking for my boyfriend Benedict Cain. He told me he was staying here with his brother and sister." The clerk, who had a cigarette sticking out of her mouth rolled her eyes and pointed toward one of the rooms. Buffy thanked her before strolling toward room 134. She leaned herself against the wood wall before lighting a cigarette for herself, awaiting the Winchesters.

Their breakfast had been enjoyable, but that feeling was slowly fading once Dean saw an unfamiliar woman standing beside their room. Sam noticed too, and pushed Dina behind them, she jumped up and could make out the faint smoke cloud coming from the woman's hand. The trio slowly made their way toward her, Dean was reaching for his gun as they walked. Buffy paid them no attention. Obviously she knew they were walking toward her and she tried to stay calm, excitement running through her veins. She took another puff of her cigarette before looking over at the trio, a small smile on her face. One of the boys started to speak, "Uhhh.." he seemed confused, why was a nice young woman standing in front of their door? She looked up at them and smiled wider, dropping the cigarette and stomping it out with her boot. "Sorry- I'm waiting on some friends. Let me get ou-"

Before Buffy could finish her sentence, Dean grabbed her arm harshly, pulling Buffy close before growling in her ear. "Who are you?" He questioned, his voice low and stern. "I'm a friend of Mike Cunningham. I think I have the wrong address so I'm going to leave you alone now." She pulled herself away from Dean calmly before turning back toward her motorcycle. The three Winchesters stood in awe, none of them saying a word as Buffy waltzed over to her ride and kicked herself onto the seat. Sam rushed after yelling "Wait!" As Buffy turned the key and started up the engine she looked up, a confused look on her face. "I'm sorry- we- we're the people you're looking for." Buffy laughed and quickly got off the motorcycle, "well why didn't you say so?" Buffy walked ahead of Sam, who turned back and watched the key to the motorcycle rotate clockwise, the vehicle slowly turning off. 

The group of four got into the motel room and nothing was said, not until the Winchesters sat down all together on the couch. "Wait so you are the friend Ellen was talking about?" Dean questioned, Dina nudged him playfully, rolling her eyes as the eldest sibling spoke. "Well...yeah I guess I'm the friend." Buffy stood in front of the TV, watching down as the Winchesters interrogated her. "Waitwaitwait...how old was this guy?" Dean questioned again, "Uhhh 52? Why is this relevant?" Buffy crossed her arms, "Cause Dean is wondering how some old guy got some hot chick like you-" Dean and Sam looked at Dina with horrified expressions on their faces. "Dina! You can't just say that!" Sam said in an angry tone. "Whattt you were both thinking it!" Dina argued back. "Woah ok guys let's chill out" Buffy spoke quietly, looking at everyone as she started playing with her hands. "Ellen wasn't really being truthful on the phone...Mike wasn't just a friend...He was my dad."

The room fell silent, nobody dared to say anything, Sam looked up at Buffy and frowned, he knew she wasn't fully over his death yet. "So, I'm Buffy...Cunningham. And you are the Winchesters." Buffy had an awkward expression on her face, she watched everyone process the information before she started speaking again. "Now- I know how tight-knit families of hunters are...so...all I'm here to do is help with the case and leave once it's over…" Buffy looked around the room while trying to avoid eye contact. "Why are you helping us...?" Dina questioned, a small smile plastered on her face. "Because I knew John...and he was really cool. My dad and your dad just... connected. So, I want to help out people who would've helped my dad." Buffy smiled at the group, and before they knew it, Sam started laying down all the information they had. 

“So it’s not a demon?” Buffy questioned, looking over at Sam who was still seated on the couch. “Yeah…no sulfur at the victim’s houses” Sam stated before looking up at Buffy, “you have any ideas?” he questioned, a gleam of hope in his eyes. “It could be a spirit playing God…sometimes spirits are too connected to their lives in the human realm that they don’t really wanna visit upstairs…” Buffy answered back, a strange expression now forming on Dean’s face. “Wait wait wait…a spirit? When did you start hunting…yesterday? Is that really all you can think of?” Sam shot Dean an angry expression, but he paid no attention to it. “Oh I’m sorry would you like something more creative? Like a magic fairy sprinkling murderous intentions onto these people?”  Buffy replied in an annoyed tone, clearly unamused with the snide comments flowing out of Dean’s mouth. “Well, aren’t you as sweet as a ray of sunshine…” Dean mumbled under his breath, clearly annoyed with the fact that this case was no longer a Winchester case. “I’m trying to help you Dean, I would be pretty miserable if I had been on a case for almost 4 fucking days and I hadn’t found anything that leads to the closing,” Dean grumbled angrily before looking back at Sam, who was frowning in disappointment. Once the interaction was over Buffy exited their room and strolled toward her room, and when the door shut she felt her hands indistinctively crawl to her head and pull strands of hair out of her scalp. 

… 

The next day Buffy and Dina went to the local library to pull up some records that could help with the case. When everyone was together again they learned some valuable information that could help identify the spirit pulling the strings on these people. They discovered that a priest had died just a week before the killings started happening, so they decided to pay a visit to the local house of worship to see if there was a grave nearby. “I’ll drive,” Dean said sternly, turning to face Buffy who was taking notes on a small piece of paper. “Looks like you’ll have to hitch a ride sweet thing,” Dean said in a sarcastic sad tone, Buffy huffed before grabbing her keys and strutting out the door. She walked toward her motorcycle before hopping on and shouting back at the Winchesters, “Teach your brother some manners!” 

When the Winchesters were on the road Dean started one of his lectures, “We will NOT work with her again.” he said seriously, watching Dina’s face crumble through his mirror. “C’mon Dean she’s fine! She’s helped us get some leads we were too dumb to find ourselves!” Sam said defensively, he watched Dean roll his eyes and press the gas pedal further down. “I don’t like her!” Dean practically yelled, Sam coiled back in his seat. “You don’t like her 'cause she makes you look less cool!” Dina spat back, Dean let out a chuckle before responding “No, Dina. I don’t like her 'cause I’ve got a bad feeling about her!” Dina rolled her eyes before making a sassy face in Dean’s direction, “You hate her 'cause she isn’t a Winchester! But we trust Ellen and if Dad knew her dad then she…can’t be all the bad, can she?” Dina questioned, leaving Dean mumbling curses as they pulled into the church’s parking lot.

Buffy leaned on the cement wall behind her, she watched the Impala pull into the parking lot and a wave of anxiety rushed through her as she watched Dean angrily stomp toward the church’s steps. When the group of four were all together they split into groups of two. Sam and Dean would talk to a priest while Dina and Buffy looked for the gravesite. As Dina and Buffy strolled to the basement of the church Dina couldn’t help but open her mouth, questions instantly slipping through her lips. “How old are you?” Dina questioned, watching as Buffy looked at headstones in search of the dead priest’s name “I’m 20…I’ll be 21 in a couple of months.” Buffy answered nonchalantly, unaware of the face Dina was making. “How long have you been hunting?” Dina asked, joining the search for the name as Buffy ventured further into the basement, “Since I can remember really… my Dad would take me on hunts when I was a baby and as I got older I started helping more.” 

“That means you’ve been hunting longer than my brother has!” Dina said excitedly

“Well don’t tell him, it might hurt his ego…” Buffy stated matter-of-factly, Dina let out a giggle…and Dean cleared his throat. 

“What might hurt my ego?” Dean questioned angrily, Buffy let out a sigh as she continued looking at the headstones, “That a girl has a longer hunting history than you.” Buffy said, tapping on the cold stone, this indicated that she had found the correct body. Dean let out a huff but before he could answer back Sam walked over to where Buffy was, nodding his head as he read the name plastered on the stone. “Let’s go, Buffy!” Dina said sweetly, clapping her hands as she strolled over toward the headstone. “We can come back tonight and burn his bones.” Sam stated, giving Buffy a quick pat on the back before turning toward Dean, “How about lunch?” 

The Winchesters took Buffy back to their motel room where they had some pizza and drinks. Dina sat in front of the TV clicking through channels while Dean, Sam, and Buffy sat conversing at the dinner table. “So Buffy do tell…” Dean started, taking another sip of his beer, “Did you ever meet our dad?” Buffy smiled lightly, tucking some hair behind her ear as she thought of an answer. “Yeah but only a couple of times, usually when my dad had to call for other hunters it meant bad news. I remember your mom a lot better than I remember him…she used to come over to my house and spend time with my mom when both of our dads were on hunting trips. You guys were there too but we never interacted I don’t think…” Sam seemed intrigued, “do you ever remember us interacting with each other?” Sam questioned, Buffy let out a laugh before taking a sip of her water, “God no. Dean wouldn’t let me talk to either of you…brotherly instinct I guess.” Buffy said bluntly, she watched Sam and Dean look at each other for a moment. “Have you always hunted? Like for a job?” Dina chimed in, walking over to the fridge to grab the carton of orange juice. “Ummm yeah, I guess, I mean I did other stuff too.” Dina’s eyes lit up and she pulled up a chair to join the conversation. “Oooo like what?” Dina asked, looking up at Buffy in awe. Dean rolled his eyes and Sam looked over at Buffy, letting her know he had her attention. “I went to college, I graduated this last semester, so when I was there I worked as a clerk at some store, you know…doing normal stuff” Buffy added, chuckling as Dina perched her head in the other girl's direction, “what did you study?” Sam’s eyes wandered back to Buffy, a certain itch knawed at his heart, he was entranced. “Oh! I majored in Folklore and History, and then I minored in literature. I guess I always knew I would follow in my dad’s footsteps so I studied things I knew would help me. Plus I could always become a teacher if I got tired of it.” Buffy smiled, and Dina smiled too, it was nice to see a female hunter achieving so many things she knew she would never do. “Oh that’s cool,” Sam butted in, giving Buffy a genuine smile before he started speaking again, “I was pre-law at Standford, I was gonna graduate but I got pulled into a case.” Buffy frowned, and she watched as Dean rolled his eyes. “So…Buffy…where did you go? Community college?” Dean questioned, taking another sip of his beer, Sam looked over at Dean with a horrified look, but all Buffy did was laugh. “Oh no no, I went to Harvard!” Buffy said cheerfully, she watched Dean look over at Sam, “Wait…Harvard Law School? Yeah right,” Dean scoffed and let out a chuckle, looking over at Sam. “What?…you’re like it’s hard to get into Harvard,” Buffy contested, turning her head over to Dean before running a hand through her hair. 

Dean rolled his eyes before looking at the clock hanging on the wall, clearly the conversation was over. “Hey cmon it’s late, let’s go catch this ghost before any more people die.” The eldest sibling said sternly, everyone lept from their seats and rushed toward the Impala. Dina and Dean got into the car but Sam stopped Buffy before she could exit the room, “I’m sorry about Dean he just-” Buffy smiled and let out a small laugh, “he doesn’t like me, I get it. No hard feelings baby boy” She smiled at Sam, clearly unfazed by Dean’s harsh remarks. He let out a nervous laugh before placing a hand on the back of his neck. “I’m- I’m glad you understand.” 

Before Buffy could reply Dean honked the horn inside the Impala, clearly annoyed with the fact they were wasting time. Buffy chuckled and patted Sam on the shoulder, “Let’s finish this!” Buffy said enthusiastically, smiling at Sam one more time before hopping onto her bike. Sam stood there dumbfounded for a second before rushing toward the car and jumping in. “Sooo I think Sammy likes her!” Dina playfully pointed out, shaking Sam’s shoulders from the backseat. All Sam could do was laugh. The drive was short, and before they knew it the group was breaking into the church basement. Buffy went first, rushing toward the small grave down the hall. “This is it,” she pointed out, taking a step back as the Winchester brothers started shoveling the small dirt hole. When Buffy turned around to look for Dina, she wasn’t there. Suddenly, a wave of nervousness washed over her. “Hey Dina isn’t here, I’m gonna go look for her…” Buffy trailed off, her heels clicking against the stone floor as she wandered into the depths of the basement. When her footsteps were no longer audible Sam let out a sigh, “Dean I want her to stay.” He said bluntly, watching Dean’s face contort only made Sam feel worse. “Sammy you only want her to stay 'cause you think she’s cute,” Dean stated in an angry tone. “No Dean! I want her to stay because I enjoy the company, you’re always gone when we aren’t hunting and she…she has no one else to go to! Please just for one more case!” Sam pleaded, clearly he wasn’t going to budge on the situation. “No Sam! This is a family! We are a family…Buffy Cunningham will never and I mean never be a part of this family!” Sam froze, and Dean continued digging dirt, clearly unfazed by the fact that Sam had stopped working. Dean scoffed as he heard Sam drop the shovel that was in his hand. “Fine. Do this case yourself.” Sam said in a monotone manner, stepping away from the grave and following in the direction Buffy had gone. 

Buffy had reached the end of the hallway where she saw Dina, seated on the floor as a towering priest stood ahead of her. “Please! I didn’t do anything!” Dina begged, tears welling in her eyes, the priest said nothing he just loomed over the girl. “Hey!” Buffy yelled, she watched the priest turn slowly, it was the man Dean and Sam were digging up just down the hall. “Get away from her!” She stated, stepping forward and reaching for her gun at the same time. “You’re disturbing my game you lowlife humans” The priest hissed, Buffy recoiled slowly, watching as the priest slowly turned in her direction. At this point, Dina had slowly crawled toward the back wall, watching Buffy stand one-to-one with the ghost. “You aren’t allowed to play your games anymore…” Buffy stated, reaching for her gun and quickly pointing it toward the ghost. “Ohh you think you’re scaring me…don’t you pretty girl?” The ghost said firmly, slowly walking toward Buffy, her gun pointing at him. “Well, I’ll have you know that I’m not afraid of some kids that think they can play God.” He stated in a creepy tone, as he moved closer to Buffy she stepped back, far enough to walk right into Sam, who had his salt-filled shotgun in hand. “We’re not the ones playing God, father…you are.”  

When Sam finished his sentence Buffy ducked down, and a loud bang followed as Sam fired one of the bullets straight into the ghost’s chest. Once the priest had disappeared Sam rushed toward Dina, who was curled up on the floor at this point. He slowly walked up to her and kneeled down, opening up his arms toward his younger sister. She let out a helpless sob, and for a moment Sam and Dina shared an embrace, Dina practically shrinking the moment she felt Sam’s arms wrap around her. Buffy sighed, before turning around to go and find the ghost again. She only had to wander for a minute before he appeared in front of her, “what a shame your little friend showed up before I could finish my chat with you.” He started, Buffy was unamused with his tone of voice. “Please what do we have to talk about?” She questioned, a small smirk plastered on her face. The priest stepped closer, but she didn’t move. The priest chuckled and reached his hand out to touch the girl, but she stayed unfazed. She heard Sam yell “Buffy!” from down the hall, but before the priest could reach her, he turned to ash and disappeared. Dina ran up to Buffy and shared a smile with her, before Dina could say anything Buffy cut her off, “Dina I’m so sorry I should’ve realized you were missing soo-” 

Before Buffy could finish Dina engulfed her in a hug, muttering “thank you” before squeezing the older girl tightly. Buffy smiled and watched Dean run down the hall with all their supplies. “Ok let’s go.” 

The drive was short, and everyone went to sleep without talking. Dean made sure Dina was ok before crawling into bed, but Sam stayed up late looking for a new case. Once he was satisfied with his research he fell asleep on the motel's couch. The next morning the Winchesters shared a small breakfast before packing up their bags and heading out to the Impala. They were almost done when Buffy exited her room with a suitcase in hand, she was clearly headed toward another case. “Were you gonna leave me without saying goodbye?” Buffy questioned, Sam let out a chuckle as he closed Baby’s trunk. “I may be a hunter but I remember my manners.” He said sweetly, Buffy let out a chuckle before giving Sam a small hug. “Thanks for everything Buffy,” Sam said sweetly, Buffy laughed, “Please I didn’t do anything.” Dina laughed through the open window of the Impala, “You saved my life!” The girl said sweetly, before smiling and giving Sam a thumbs up. Dean was sitting in the driver's seat, Buffy knew he wasn’t going to say goodbye. “Tell your brother I said bye,” Buffy said quietly, making her way toward her motorcycle. “Come with us.” 

Buffy froze and looked up at Sam with a strange expression. “Sam I’m not too keen on breaking my promises.” She said sweetly, smiling at the boy who was still standing in front of her. “There’s a case in Oklahoma we’re gonna go lead up on, I’d really like for you to come,” Sam said in a shy voice, a soft blush painted his cheeks. By this point, Buffy walked back over to him and put a hand to his cheek, “How could I deny you of what you want pretty boy, just make sure your brother doesn’t kill me.” Buffy gave Sam a sweet smile before getting onto her motorcycle, Sam smiled back and rushed toward the passenger side of the Impala, when he got in he had one thing to say, “just one more case, Dean.” Dina cheered from the back of the car and Dean mumbled, “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.” Sam laughed and Dean turned the music on the radio louder. “Hey!” Buffy yelled, now banging on Dean’s window. “What?” Dean said in an angry tone, “The last one there pays for both the rooms.” Buffy smirked, before revving off onto the road. “Jesus Christ Sam, you picked a crazy” Dean murmured, but Sam was too busy watching Buffy ride off, her copper hair flying in the wind as she sped farther away from them. “Dean you’re letting her win!” and with that, Dean shifted gears and got onto the road, this was going to be a long hunt.

(OMGGG THE FIRST CHAPTER IS FINALLY DONE!! thank u sm for waiting on it, i hope ya'll love it <333)

love always, devina

[iamskadhi]

Story of a villain - Part 2

Hi, Dabi stans, here is the translation of the second part of my fanfiction (it isn't posted anywhere else, btw)

In case you haven't read or want to read the Part 1 of Story of a villan.

As I mentioned before, it is written from a male POV (Dabi's POV), it has a explicit smut parts, includes a little self-loathing, original characters (but the female lead doesn't have a name so you can pretend it's you)

I decided to use the word "part" instead of "chapter" because I actually merged a lot of small chapters I've written before, I'm trying to make it fit in 3 parts so this is the middle of the whole thing and I'm going to say that is so satisfying to write a love story this way, I've never done this before and I highly recomend it now.

The first part has +7000 words and this part has +8000 words, there are no big descriptions of places or time because I tried to write it as a light novel, feel free to send me messages to correct my gramar or if you have any comment about the times not making sense or anything else.

Anyway, I hope you like it.

PART 2

Slowly, we became more than what we were already: a chosen family. Together we found an apartment – smaller than her former place, but nicely located – and for almost a month, I managed to kill most of my old habits, but it costed me, the old me was screaming in the back of my mind next to my thirteen-year-old corpse.

Some nights, we talked about the future before sleeping and I noticed the way she smoothed the ground, patiently helping me to feel safe and at home; she had no idea my home is wherever she is.

Then, I got a job under a fake name. I went from drug dealing in dark alleys to torturing people and now I was a security guard at a downtown club known as Beanie and One Day.

“You’re sketchy as fuck” said the manager, a mid-forty man named Tanaka Haru, “can you throw jerks out the door?”

“I’m not that strong”, I admitted.

He doubted, but I got the job. I got the name, the place, the girl; but it wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t satisfied at all; and only to make things worse, her mother came to our place one morning after my babe went to work, she looked around and tried to bribe me to leave her daughter alone.

“I love your daughter,” I told her clearly.

“You’re ruining her life!” she accused me. “I talked to her father and if you don’t get out of her life for good, he’ll remove her from the company”

I grinned and she looked at me as if I was crazy.

“You wouldn’t. You care too much about what other people thinks”

“Oh, believe me, we would and we will take her out of the country after that, so don’t get too comfortable in this dumpster you brought her to live with you. Take the money, you clearly need it if this is the best you can get” she disappeared ­— she had a teleportation quirk too.

I looked out the window, a black car that was park outside started up and fled immediately; that was probably hers. I wanted to burn the card and money she left, but I let it there, kept the card in my pocket.

When my babe came home, I noticed she was upset too.

“Wanna eat outside?” she asked me.

As we walked, she started to point out all of the benefits of the new place, it made me sad how hard she was trying to convince herself she was okay without all of her privileges.

I couldn’t keep it in anymore:

“Your mom visited” She stopped walking, so I stood there too, “Did you talked to your father today?”

“What did she say?”

Something horrible was going on inside her head, it was obvious, I showed her the card.

“She offered money to separate us”, I burned it “She said you were supposed to go to your parent’s house that night, but I guess you knew that already.”

“I finally got you” she said, “I got you, I can’t be the one who leaves. I started over, I’m adapting”

“No, you’re not”

“Yes, I am!” she looked at me, her gaze was reddish, irritated, I sighed.

“Did you cry today, baby?”

“Don’t treat me like a kid!” she ran her hands through her hair in exasperation.

“I’m not doing that, I see it in your eyes.”

She swore she was fine, but it wasn’t true. After eating, we took the long way home, as we walked in the building her mother’s words resonated in my mind: “you’re ruining her life”.

My babe smiled at me when we entered, put her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply, I closed the door behind us… and clothes started falling on the floor.

If she could smile like that and still embrace me as tenderly as she just did, how could I still believe that her mother was right? I totally screwed her and she was happy with it.

“You still haven’t got your period, you should get tested,” I suggested her when we were done.

“Are you worried?” she put on my shirt.

“I don’t wanna be like our parents”

“Me neither, but it’s too soon to know”

It was killing me and I wondered how she managed to keep it cool and if she even wanted to have kids. I never asked, we never talked about it, I assumed it was off the table.

My heart ached just thinking about it.

Doing a regular job was way boring than I thought it would be, but it helped get my mind distracted; at the end of the shift, the bartender –a mid-thirty man named Haruma— would serve some drinks and the manager  pointed out all the things that should be improved.

“You’re new” I heard a soft voice behind me, a girl’s voice, one of the girls that dance around the place to keep a fun mood sat next to me.

“Hey, Momo, I didn’t see you tonight” Haruma smiled at her, brought another glass for her.

“I kept sober tonight, there are less jerks lately,” she said looking at me.

“Thanks to the new guy!” the manager put his thumbs up for me.

“I suspected it”, she smiled “I’ve been watching you, you got a big reputation”

“He does?” Haruma asked. I tensed.

“Yeah, girl’s notice his cute face and whisper about his scars, how did you get them?”

She pissed me, but the bartender was paying attention.

“Did it myself”

“How?” she wanted to know.

“That’s none of your business”

“I heard you got a fire quirk, Miura” Haruma was too amicable for his own good.

“Really?” Momo giggled. I just nodded and she put her hand on my arm. “I got a water quirk”

I pulled my arm away and jump up the chair immediately; she literally watered me and soaked my jacket sleeve.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?!”

She laughed and grinned.

“I guess we’re not compatible”

I could see that she was insane and I shouldn’t even look at her but she annoyed me.

“Momo, are you okay?!” the manager yelled from the other side of the club.

“That was uncalled for, Momo” the bartender reprimanded her, “Don’t take it bad, Miura, she’s not good socializing, that’s all”

“Put a sign on her next time!” I exclaimed.

“Oh, I can’t wait for the next time” she giggled.

“Don’t be rude” Haruma reproached her again.

I just left. It was still dark; when I got home, my babe was sleeping. We spent little to no time together since I got this job; I took a shower before getting into bed with her and she opened her beautiful sparkly eyes as I laid next to her.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered “Didn’t mean to wake you up”

“How was your night?”

“It was fine”

“Good” she mumbled and closed her eyes again. I tucked her hair behind her ear and she sighed, “You smell nice”

I cuddled her and fell asleep in a minute.

The smell of something very delicious woke me up, I went to the kitchen and saw Hana.

“I’m sorry, were we being too loud?” my babe asked. I shook my head, still sleepy.

“It was the bacon, right? Come, sit” Hana was cooking. “I like your new apartment, it’s close to where I live so I thought I could come and eat breakfast together, I didn’t mean to disturb. It’s nice to see you’ve taken care of your skin” she walked to me and analyzed my face, “but I see a couple of dots near under your eyes, they don’t look like moles”

“It’s nothing,” I said and she left it.

I ate in silence and went back to bed, but I could still hear them talk:

“Did you tell him?” Hana asked.

“No, he won’t take it well”

“You should tell him, though”

I swallowed the bad feeling and slept, but I didn’t rest well.

“What could it be?” I thought before falling asleep, “Did she get tested?”

It clicked my mind: she was pregnant, it was obvious and expected —not “we wanted this” type of expected, but “it had to happen” type. I cooked dinner and waited for her.

Time passed slowly, I called her and she didn’t answer; it’s something that never happens.

“Where are you?” Sent.

A few minutes later, she was writing.

“With Hana” Read.

“At the hospital?” Sent.

“At her place” Read.

I had a bad feeling.

“You OK?” Sent.

“Of course, my love. See you later” Read.

I wasn’t gonna let it slide. I had Hana’s phone number; I just never sent her a text or called her before. No, I did when they were in high school— I thought and called her:

“Hi, hi” she answered.

“Hi, are you having dinner or something?” I asked.

“Who’s this?” she asked, “Oh, Dabi, hi, why do you ask me that?”

I swallowed my saliva as I realized.

“You’re not together”

“I feel like I missed something, I’m sorry, I’m at ER right now and you called me out of the blue…”

“What were you talking about this morning?” I wanted to know.

“This morning? You were there”

“When I left you two alone, that one thing I won’t take well”

There was a brief silence.

“I’m gonna tell you, but act like you don’t know, okay?”

“Why?”

“It’s not that bad. You know the way her parents are and she had to do this, believe me, she didn’t have a choice, well she did but the other choice was something totally irrational and…”

“Spill it, Hana”

“They set her a date with some wealthy prick, she already knows him from college and he’s an idiot, she had to go, trust me, trust her, she’ll just go to dinner with him tonight and it’s done, please don’t freak out”

“Where?”

“I don’t know” she mumbled, “I swear. She mentioned it but I’ve never been there, it’s new and stylish, the kind of place her mom adores; I just know it opened this week”

That was the only clue I needed.

“Do you know when they’re supposed to meet?”

“Please just let it slide, they must be there already, she’ll be home real soon”

“Thanks” I hung up. I had to see the wealthy prick.

If they met in college I had someone in mind, I hated thinking about it. Searched online for newly opened restaurants and went straight to the one that looked more stupidly pompous.

It had big fucking crystal doors but no windows, I had to go in; the host welcomed me with a fake smile:

“I’m sorry. We have a dress code, sir”

I ignored her and walked in, looking around, she followed me, heard some gasps and I saw them. I fucking saw the same asshole that used to stalk her back in college and felt the anger heating inside my chest.

A waiter addressed me: “I’m sorry, gentleman, but you have to respect…”

“Who’s manning that table?” I pointed them.

“I’m sorry again; I can’t give you that info…”

I walked to them, she hadn’t see me but I stopped when she stood up and spilled her wine on his face. He got up too, a waiter jumped in offering a napkin and I hurried to the table.

“You’re still the same immature little girl, I see” the prick said walking towards her, I reached him just in time, put my hand on his shoulder.

“Long time no see, fucking loser”

She widened her eyes surprised; she really didn’t noticed I was there until now.

“Who the fuck are you?” he looked at me confused; I grinned and let a little blue blaze out my hand on his shoulder.

“You forgot about me? That’s sad, I remember you perfectly, fucking asshole”

He squealed like a little bitch, I perfectly saw in his eyes when he remembered; she jumped in and pushed me back.

“Dabi, let’s go” she said while pushing me “Let’s go, let’s go”

I let go of his shoulder and stepped back, grinning like a devil, mad as fuck:

“Damn, you’re lucky we’re at a fancy place!”

“Please, let’s go!” she took my hand and pulled me, we rushed out of the restaurant, when we were outside I confronted her:

“Why did you do this?”

“Why did you do that?!” she reproached me.

“No, there’s no possible way you can turn this on me, what the fuck happened?”

She looked at me as if she was completely out of her mind before turning her back on me, and walked away.

“Where the fuck are you going?” I followed her.

“Home! I need to change!”

“You need to explain!”

“No! How did you find out?” she bawled, “Why are you here? Why…?”

I reached her hand and stopped her, people walked around but I had to see her face; she was turning red but she wasn’t crying.

“What would you have done if I hadn’t been there?” I asked calmly.

“I would’ve teleported out of there,” she said, but I know she wouldn’t have done that. “I would’ve go home, like I’m trying to do now” she hugged herself.

She was gorgeous; wearing a red dress and her hair up, she looked like a movie star or a model. I really wanted to fight for this, but I also wanted to take her home and make love to her fully dressed like that.

“You asked Hana, didn’t you?” she looked at me, still upset, and I nodded.

“Let’s go home,” I said, put my arm around her waist and walked with her.

“Yeah, I really wanna change” she mumbled.

“No, keep it” I said with a smirk and I saw her smiling too.

“Wanna take shortcuts?” she asked and pulled me to the first dark alley we saw.

Teleporting with her was like jumping, except you don’t feel the fall; she wrapped her arms around me. When I first met her she could teleport in a radio of fifty meters —she was awesome–, by now she can do over a kilometer, maybe two.

We’ve done this before and I trusted her, but it still made my legs wiggle, she kissed me with each jump, avoiding street lights, avoiding CCTVs, when we were near the building, she stopped and I felt my legs wiggling like jelly.

She mocked me but I didn’t mind; we ran to the apartment like kids running home after school, this was the kind of things that made me fall for her despite… everything. When I’m with her, the rest of the world vanishes.

We made out in the elevator and barely managed to open the door in-between all the kissing, laughing and touching. We were role-playing and she was being incredibly clumsy.

“Oh no, mister robber, please don’t hurt me with your giant… tool.”

We laughed. She was doing it on purpose, no matter how serious I tried to be, she was faking a voice, she had to be a dummy.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you but the only valuable thing in this place is me”

I gazed her body up and down. What a woman, I thought and I took my jacket off.

“So what would you do if I went to touch you now?” I aimed to touch her waist and she stepped back grinning, very professional. I bit my lip.

“Oh no, please, my husband will be back soon!” she exclaimed.

“Then I gotta hurry” I touched her arm and she teleported us to the bed, I wasn’t expecting it but kept it cool and took my shirt off, I felt her hands going up touching my abdomen, “Stay in character, honey”

“Shit, nooo, mister robber, what are you doing to me?” she said as I took her underwear down her legs.

“Enough is enough!” I couldn’t keep it together anymore, kissed her deeply, suck her tongue into my mouth while putting two fingers inside her, and massaged her clitoris with my thumb. The red dress was almost as soft as her skin.

She moaned and undid the button of my jeans. I wanted to scold her for being so bad at role-playing but it could wait ‘till morning. We had a rope in the nightstand for this kind of situations; I tied her wrists together and let my jeans fall down.

She looked at me with thirsty eyes as I put on a condom and let a sigh out when I dived deep inside her; I kept a hand down on her hips and covered her mouth with the other while licking and sucking her precious neck all the way from her collarbone to her ear.

Soon, I forgot about the role-play too, kissing her deeply while she clawed her fingers on my hips and pulled me in desperately as I pulled out; she already wanted to come. I pulled out and turned her on her stomach, she lift her ass and I dived into her again while playing with her clitoris.

She buried her face on the pillow and I left my weight fall a little on her, put my ear on her scapula and felt her taking long deep breaths. I felt her loose strength as she was coming done. I pulled out, still hard as fuck, to allow her to turn around.

“I think we ripped the dress” she sighed.

“Shit, I loved this dress”

“I could tell how much you loved it” she said when I untied her wrists and checked the hour. “If you’re getting late, let’s make it worth”

She gave me that smile she has when she’s expecting another round.

That night my pay was deducted a thirty percent, but I was so satisfied that it could’ve been completely deducted and I wouldn’t mind.

The next few days felt like a honeymoon, not only because the sex, everything was suddenly working out. I spent so many years thinking I would never fit into a normal lifestyle, obsessed about heroes and becoming the best of them... Or maybe I’m very printable, I thought.

I was obsessed with the hero’s path because my father was a hero himself. He is still a hero. Now I was living with someone that always lived a regular life and I could live like that only because of her.

“Did you ever think about becoming a hero?” I asked her. She looked at me, confused.

“We’ve had this talk before”

I remembered the first time that I saw her, she was training her quirk behind her parent’s back. She was too mad at them because her life was made since the day she was born, she didn’t have siblings like me because her mother hated being pregnant, therefore she had no voice in their house. Training her quirk at a crack house was her only rebellious phase.

That and dating me.

“How could you fall for me?” I asked.

She laughed.

“Remember that day I jumped off the roof and you screamed you loved me? You already knew I can teleport anywhere, anytime, but you were so desperate thinking I was trying to kill myself. We were messed up kids who taught ourselves how to live, how could we ever just be friends?”

That was an embarrassing memory, I really believed she was done with her life and her parent’s expectations and I ran upstairs to that roof. She jumped before my eyes and my hands couldn’t reach her, of course I was desperate and I screamed.

“You were so cute” she sipped her cup of coffee with an annoying grin.

“If you’re pregnant I’m telling that story someday”

She stared at me, blushing until her face turned all red.

“You manipulated me” I said and she laughed.

“Maybe I did” she admitted. “I liked you but I never thought you loved me”

On my day off, I went to the mall attempting to buy a coffeemaker like the one my babe had before, but of course, I couldn’t afford the exact same machine so I had to buy the next best option.

I was waiting in line to pay, when I notice the woman in front of me had white hair with red stripes. It’s not possible, I thought, chill – but I couldn’t resist myself and tried to look at her face. She noticed and looked back.

“I’m sorry” she said immediately when she made eye contact - took me by surprise, “are you in a hurry? My cart’s full, you can pass before me” she offered politely.

“I’m good” I said. That was definitely my sister.

“Okay” she said and she looked at me timidly, it made me wonder…

“What’s the matter?”

If maybe, she did recognize me.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to stare at you like that” she stuttered. “It’s just…” she looked at my black hair “that you look like someone that I miss”

She’s lying, I thought and swallowed my saliva nervously, stay calm, stay calm.

“What?” I asked.

Don’t fuck things up, do it for her.

“Someone that I knew, I meant someone that I knew,” she lied, “I’m sorry, I felt nostalgic for a moment, you can go before me, seriously,” she offered again.

“Fine” I said as I walked by her side, “thanks”

“You’re welcome” she smiled.

Not only my hair or my piercings, my voice is different, I thought, but she knows. I looked over my shoulder and she smiled.

Or maybe I’m losing my grip again. Forget it, forget them.

Back home, I questioned myself if I should place the coffeemaker as if it has always been here or if I should’ve wrapped it with a bow and all.

I called Hana and she laughed at me.

“I’m sorry, that’s so cute. I think you should place it there and count the minutes, we can make a bet about how long it will take her to notice”

“She’s a caffeine maniac, she’ll notice immediately”

“Na-uh, it’ll take her like ten minutes at least, pregnancy makes woman very absent-minded. I can see her using the French press and then…”

“What?”

“What?” she shut the fuck up.

“That thing you said about pregnancy”

There was a brief silence and she said nervously:

“Oh no! A car crashed somewhere and I need to go, bye”

I stayed standing like an idiot for a couple of minutes, staring at the coffeemaker. It wasn’t like I didn’t suspected it or I didn’t know, but the fact that Hana knew her period was late and seemed to have confirmed she was pregnant didn’t sit well.

I felt betrayed.

Searched online everything about pregnancy symptoms, I also felt curious about what to do with a newborn, I read everything I found and it was so much to handle, I felt the urge to throw up.

“I can’t do this” I said to myself while scrolling down my phone’s screen. I remembered my father. “I won’t be like him”

Rage filled in. I tried to picture it: the baby, a real baby.

What if they have my quirk?

What if they have my weakness?

I felt the urge to leave.

If they don’t have a quirk, it’d be fine.

If they have my babe’s quirk, it’d be fine.

My mind was tricking me, asphyxiating me.

I put my phone on the table and left the apartment, walked around the building, then wandered further and faster; almost running.

I saw a couple of those stupid heroes on the other side of street.

What if they want to be a hero?

I couldn’t take it anymore. I stopped walking.

“My love?” I heard her voice, but couldn’t see her. “Dabi. What are you doing here?”

I looked around, everything was numb and she appeared before me. Perfectly normal, glowing eyes looking in mine, she took my hand and intertwined our fingers.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Tell me”

She was like gravity, bringing me back down to the cold hard ground.

I can’t fuck this up, I thought. I pulled her closer to me and whispered in her ear:

“I missed you”

“I’ve got something to tell you” she whispered back.

“I’ve got a gift for you”

She smiled.

On the way home, I told her about my little trip to the mall, she listened careful; she could be strange and mad, but she always understood when it comes to me – to my family’s mess. Even though we were raised in completely different types of asylums.

“Welcome home, cheater” I said when we were walking inside the apartment, she looked at me as if I was crazy.

“What?” she asked.

“Hana told me” I crossed my arms trying to look dead serious “Is she the father?”

She realized and burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I asked her, she was holding her stomach and covering her mouth but couldn’t hold it in.

“I’m so-I’m sorry” she laughed and laughed, completely out of control, “I was gonna get so angry if you were accusing me for real of cheating. You can be so dramatic sometimes, I love you”

“When where you gonna tell me?” I wanted to know.

“Well, you know, I was gonna walk in with a baby one day and…” I stared at her, I was done with the jokes and she saw it in my face “My love, I just found out, I swear”

“When?”

“Hana took the blood sample and she sent me a message with the results this morning, I promise you I was gonna tell you at dinner”

I gasped for air and pointed at the box in the kitchen.

“Oh my God, Dabi!” she covered her mouth and jumped in excitement like a kid, “thank you, thank you, thank you!” she hugged me before unpacking it.

She looked so happy. Then, I remember what I read about caffeine during pregnancy and tried to take it away.

“I’m returning it” I said.

“What?!”

“Caffeine isn’t good for the baby” I lifted the coffee machine when she tried to take it back from my hands, “You’re gonna settle with a cup per day from now on”

“HELL NO!”

She turned into a demon in order to take over the coffeemaker again. What did I just get into?, I thought as I found myself losing a battle to her for the first time in forever. I sat out the door in the hallway during thirty minutes until she forgave me for trying to do things right.

A week passed but I felt frozen in time, she made an appointment for an echography and I knew I had to go, I said I would, but I missed it. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t showed me anything, as if it didn’t happen.

I could feel when I’d come back from work, every time I laid in bed next to her she’d wake up and stare at me. I felt the silent pressure of her gaze and for a fortnight, there we were acting indifferent to each other. No sex, no fights, no talking.

One night after work, I was with the bartender, killing time, when our boss joined us:

“So… ho-how are you?” he asked me directly.

“Fine”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing” Haruma said, “but he doesn’t open up no matter how much whiskey I put…”

“Whiskey?” Tanaka gave him a look, discontent, tired and sighed making a sign to pour a glass for him before turning back to me “Anyway, you’ve done a decent job but lately, you’re scaring the clients – real clients, not just your target clients, it’s not good for the business”

Maybe they can relate, I thought, maybe I should let a wall down.

Our boss was expecting me to say something and Haruma was really bad at pretending he wasn’t into the conversation.

“Do you… have children?” I asked in a very low tone.

“Fuck no” the manager puffed.

“No, no, no, no” Haruma shook his head frenetically, then he asked with a childish smile “Is your girlfriend pregnant?”

I didn’t answer.

“Kids are cool, I dated a single mom once,” he continued.

“Hey, don’t say weird things” Tanaka scolded him.

“But it’s true! She was older…” Haruma started a narrative but he was too into himself that he didn’t notice no one was paying attention.

“Now I understand” my boss seemed concerned, “How do you feel about it? Shock? Sad? Wanna go and buy cigarettes?”

I looked down, he was seeing right through me.

“I should give her a call” Haruma finished his story with a longing sigh. “Hey is it true woman turn lustful when they’re pregnant?”

I gave him a cold stare and he made a face, realizing he fucked up.

“I’ve seen you picking up girls almost every night, how come you haven’t gotten anyone pregnant?” I asked him and the manager scolded him again, attempting to hit him from across the table.

“I’ve told you to stop a fucking thousand times, that’s why they never come back! You fucking piece of shit!”

“Dabi, how could you?” Haruma avoided every hit like he was used to this.

“And ain’t you married?” I addressed Tanaka, he had a wedding ring on his finger.

“Yes, to a man” he said resolute.

“I’m sorry we can’t advise you, Dabi”

“You’re on your own, kid” the manager patted my shoulder while pouring some more whiskey for himself.

“But I’m curious about something” Haruma put his face on his hand, awkwardly close to mine. “Are you in love?”

His breath hit my nose; the manager sighed and I couldn’t shut up: “I am madly in love, I cannot breath when she’s not near, I love her”

“Aww that was sweet” Haruma smiled.

“You could’ve been a detective if you’d stayed at school” the manager said to Haruma.

“Yeah, but bartending is fun” Haruma said with a sly grin. I looked at him confused, and he explained immediately: “My quirk forces people to be brutally honest. One day I asked my father why he was mean to me and he said he hated me because I killed my mom during labor”

Our boss lighted a cigarette for himself.

“You know it’s not true”

“Well I didn’t kill her, it’s not possible, but she died and he blamed me my whole life. I dropped high school and left his house, I’ve been on my own since then”

“So you’re in love, that’s why Momo couldn’t pull you up” Tanaka smiled at me, “that’s a relief, she’s the reason I had to fire the guy before you”

“That and he was also a jerk” Haruma said.

“He was tall and strong…”

“I hated him!” Haruma insisted.

“He was perfect for the job until she messed with him!”

“Then why didn’t you fire her? He was an asshole, you just can’t admit it because he’s your type!”

They started and argument and I had to leave. It was early; the daylight was clearing the streets as I was walking home. If I was so in love and if I had pictured us as a family before, why was I so nervous? Why did I feel like I could go away on my own at any given minute?

I stayed in the living room for a moment, took a bath and went back to the couch; she came out of the room and looked at me.

“Are you okay?” she asked. My body moved by itself, walked towards her and hugged her, “Did something bad happen?”

“I never asked you how you feel about this. I never asked you if you want this. I assumed you were fine because I’m here but I have no idea what’s going on or what to do to make things right”

In other words, I was an idiot.

She hugged me back, her nose snorted and I felt her crying on me as she ranted:

“I had no idea how to talk about this, I feel like a mess! I’m not doing good at my job and I can’t handle a household even when this is a smaller place. The other day I said ‘hi’ to a baby in the street and he cried! Then I cried and his mom was so nice, she comforted me when the baby stopped crying!”

She started to say unintelligible things and I just nodded and patted her back as she continued:

“What, when and how am I supposed to tell my parents? My mom is gonna bully me so hard if I cry when my own baby cries!”

She cried long and loud for good thirty minutes before getting ready for work, she used a couple of cold spoons to deflate her puffy eyes.

I was tired but I could barely sleep. I felt curious about Haruma’s quirk and how much information he could get out of anybody.

“I learned the hard way that pushing people’s boundaries is a double edge sword,” he told me. I thought it was because of his father, but he continued: “One time I took a girl home, I used to ask them what kind of stuff they like…“

He kept talking, he reminded me of Hana and despite I liked them both, I would never put them in the same room together.

“So, who is it?” he asked, “Your girlfriend?” I didn’t say anything and he smiled, “bring her one night, I’ll make some alcohol-free cocktails just for her and I’ll ask her whatever you wanna know, but… don’t resent me later”

Our boss appeared behind him and hit the back of his head.

“Don’t listen to a word he says, whatever you’re planning don’t do it” he warned us.

“Tanaka!” Haruma bawled, rubbing where he was hit.

“I heard ‘bring her’ and I don’t care who you’re talking about, you better don’t bring anyone to meet this slut man”

“Tanaka, that’s rude!” Haruma cried louder.

“Don’t be like this, Tanakun, let him bring her” Momo sat next to me, “I’m curious about the type of girl this idiot likes” She gave me a shiver “how many girlfriends did you say you’ve had?”

“I didn’t say” I said as I stood up to leave.

“See you tomorrow, Dabi!”

Haruma and our boss said goodbye, but as soon as I was walking out, I felt somebody following me. She didn’t even hide.

“Stop the stalking” I told her when she approached me.

“It’s not stalking, I’m just walking in the same direction that you are” she defended herself, but this wasn’t the first time she tried to follow me.

“Okay, walk then” I made a sign with my hand to let her pass in front of me and she smiled.

“Are you going to walk behind me? Do you like that kind of stuff, Dabi, chasing pretty girls on lonely streets?”

“There are no pretty girls in this street, just go your own way” I said as I walked back to the club, but she didn’t left me alone.

“You’ve never had another girlfriend, have you?” she asked, “Maybe you should sleep with other girls so you could see that sex isn’t a fucking big deal, you don’t have to run away from me all the time!”

I arrived and saw Haruma and Tanaka closing the door.

“Did you forget something?” Tanaka asked, but I shook my head.

“Where you going? Wanna share a taxi?” Haruma asked.

They lived in the opposite direction, but I nodded. Haruma complained a lot in the back of the taxi, he was saying it’s my fault that he had to share a taxi with Tanaka; I fell asleep.

I woke up when we arrived at Tanaka’s house. Haruma was there:

“I thought I’d have to carry you” he sighed in relief.

I tried to leave, but they didn’t let me.

“I know where you live” Tanaka said, “You’re running away from something. What is it? You forgot to collect laundry?”

Haruma laughed: “Married people are a different breed”

“We’re not married,” I said.

“Yet” Haruma said. “Oh! Tanaka, your husband”

A mutant came out of a room, a big, tall man with two pairs of arms and eyes. I tried not to stare.

“We didn’t mean to wake you up, Beanie, sorry” Tanaka said, but his husband said it was fine, they went to the kitchen and I noticed he was staring at me.

I smirked when I realized why the club’s name is Beanie and One Day.

“Do you know each other?” Haruma asked me and I denied it.

I started to receive a couple of messages from my babe.

“Don’t worry. See you at home soon” Sent.

“That’s not right” Haruma said, looking at my messages before taking over my phone, “Give me that!” he wrote something really fast and sent it, then took a picture and sent it. “Now we’re good”

My phone ringed a couple of times, Haruma read the messages and smiled pleased with himself.

Tanaka and his husband put a few plates and juice for us – his husband was drinking coffee.

“It’s good to see a new face, this never happens” his husband said politely. “What brought you here?”

“Momo” I said.

Tanaka jumped in his seat and his husband grinned.

“I told you that girl means troubles, nothing stops her ever, I knew it since she tried to mess with my nephew”

“We’ve had a long list of security guards,” Haruma told me.

“And why haven’t you fire her?” I asked Tanaka.

“Look, she’s harmless, she dances well, and she…”

“She’s an orphan” his husband interrupted, “and this guy over here has a terrible savior’s complex. Momo’s an orphan, Haruma was neglected and I suppose you…”

I nodded; he was kinda right. Tanaka exhaled:

“I’m gonna talk to her again, just give her time”

“Time for what?” Haruma asked him, “If she keeps trying to follow him she’s gonna do something stupid, you know her”

“Well, if I fire her she will come back as a client”

“Why she doesn’t cause you any trouble?” I asked Haruma.

“Oh, she likes tough guys and I’m a cinnamon roll”

Beanie laughed, squeezed Haruma’s cheek and said:

“It’s not just that, she likes to break her favorite toys”

“Here we go again” Tanaka rolled his eyes.

“I hate to say ‘I told you so’, but you know I’m right” He finished his breakfast, “Listen, she doesn’t just wants to hook around, she likes breaking hearts, she likes to make guys obsessed with her and dump them like trash”

Haruma put his arm around my shoulders and pointed at my face.

“The thing with this guy is that he’s already obsessed with someone”

“Oh, a challenge, she hasn’t have to deal with someone in love before” Tanaka’s husband analyzed me, looking somewhat pleased.

“You should go to work, honey,” Tanaka said.

“Sure, I’m leaving, but I wanna know something first” he said and looked at me, “what’s your girlfriend like?”

Haruma smiled and asked too:

“Yeah, what is she like, Dabi?”

It hit me again; I recognized it this time, I immediately bursted out a ton of cheesy compliments about her image — like her captivating sparkly eyes, contagious laugh— and personality —how kind she is and tough at the same time. I felt exhausted when I was done and had to take a deep breath.

Beanie and Haruma seemed extremely satisfied. Tanaka looked at me worried. For myself, I think I fainted after that.

Suddenly, I was at my birth house.

I heard mom humming in the kitchen, Fuyumi was helping her to make dinner, I could smell it; Natsu crossed the front door and greeted me.

“When did you get here?” Natsu patted my back when he walked by.

“Touya, help us set the table” Fuyumi told me from the kitchen’s door. Mom smiled at me, behind her:

“Touya! Welcome home!”

I tried to reach them, I really tried, but the room stretched as Natsu, Fuyumi and mom stared at me from afar.

“Did you go to Sekoto Peak again, Touya?”

That man, my father, was by my side wearing a frown and the house disappeared and turned to the forest.

The forest was on fire, my blue fire, and my babe was standing there. I called her name but nothing came out of my mouth so I screamed – still nothing - and the flames embraced her but she didn’t move.

A bucket of cold water hit me and woke me up; Tanaka and Haruma were standing in front of me.

“What the fuck were you dreaming?!” Tanaka asked.

“Dude, your face!” Haruma looked at me terrified.

I touched my face, it was hot, and I used my phone’s camera to see the damage: a mark of burnt skin appeared around my collarbone. It wasn’t that bad.

“You seem to be used to burning yourself, it doesn’t hurt?”

“I am used to this, a friend fixed my face a couple of months ago” I sighed when I realized Hana was gonna kick me.

“A couple of months, then your girlfriend has seen you like this,” Tanaka mumbled.

“So we don’t have to worry about her getting back at us” Hamura sighed in relief, Tanaka looked at him in disapproval.

“Watch your words”

“It’s fine” I said, “Thank you… for everything”

“Thank you for not burning yourself to death”

“Tanaka, don’t say that!”

“I’ve done worse. I need to go home” I said.

Tanaka invited me to eat first and brought a burn cream for me; after that Haruma and I left, we were walking side by said when he started talking:

“Hey, about your thing with Momo…”

“I don’t have a thing…”

“My bad! It was a poor choice of words, but I wanted to let you know, she’s not like that. That thing Tanaka’s lovey dovey said before... Momo likes to make guys fall for her, but she’s scared of commitment.”

“So what?”

“I thought you could trick Momo into thinking you’d dump your girlfriend for her, you don’t have to go all the way with her. Just pretend she caught your eye, take her to the movies…”

“No”

“Well, it’s respectable. See you later!”

In the subway, I thought about inviting an iced coffee to my babe, so I took my phone to send a message and read all the stupid messages Haruma sent her.

“Hi hi, this is Haruma, a friend from work your fluffy-haired boyfriend made, he’s with me and our boss right now, we’re having a little reunion but don’t worry, we’ll return him later, safe and sound - pinky promise” Sent. Right after my last text.

“If he’s not friendly, why friendly shaped?” Sent, with a blurred picture.

“Hello, Haruma, thank you for taking care of him.” Read.

“Have fun” Read.

“Sorry, we broke him.” Sent with a picture of me sleeping on the couch.

“LOL, send me another please” Read.

[PIC][PIC][PIC][+7 PICs] Sent.

“TYSM♡” Read.

It’s like they’re speaking another language, I thought.

Then I remembered what I dreamed and tried to take it off my mind, but I couldn’t. I was just entering our neighborhood when she called me, except she wasn’t the person on the other side of the line.

A police officer introduced himself and explained a fucked up situation:

She was at the police station. There was an illegal use of her quirk. She caused a public disturbance. She had a verbal fight with a hero.

Each sentence the officer said was more ridiculous than the previous one, then he mentioned a car accident and I lost it.

At that moment, I wish I could teleport like her, but the only thing I could do was take a taxi. When I arrived, she was sitting in front of an officer’s desk, he was yelling something at her and she was quiet, just taking it.

“If she was in an accident why are you yelling at her?!” I yelled at the officer, she looked at me and jumped up, there were no visible injuries or scratches; the officer stood up too and a couple more hurried as if we were gonna fight.

“Is this your husband?” he yelled at her again, as if I wasn’t there.

“You bet I am!” I walked furious towards them.

“What the fuck did you tell him?” she asked him upset.

“What happened?” I wanted to hear it from her, but the officer didn’t let her talk.

“She caused a public disturbance when she verbally fought with a hero that was about to save a kid…”

“I already told you that is not what happened!” she exclaimed, absolutely mad, “that dickhead hero caused the car accident right after I saved the kid, check the goddamn CCTVs!”

“What hero?” I asked.

“Nobody important” she said calmly and turned back to the officer, “there were eyewitnesses and you, the goddamn police! Just took the hero’s word for granted! Fucking inefficient!”

He wrote something while shaking his head, I felt the urge to burn everything down but I looked at her, she was mad but she looked fine.

“Should I take you to the hospital?” I asked her but she refused.

“You can’t go anywhere until you pay the bail,” said the officer and pissed me off, I wanted to burn him to ashes.

“You should’ve start there” she reproached him with fire in her eyes, pulling her wallet out of her purse.

“And you still owe an apology to Beast Arms”

“He’s the one who should be apologizing!” she complained, “that fucking beast almost killed somebody”

She was distressed; it was all over her face. When we walked out of the police station, I hugged her and she cuddled, her scent filled my nose and I patted her back.

“I fucking hate heroes” she complained, “this was all his fault”

“Today was a long day for the both of us” I whispered. She touched my collarbone.

“I noticed,” she whispered back.

“What happened?” I still wanted to hear it from her.

“I was walking home and I saw a kid running, he crossed the street at a red light and I just teleported to get him and teleported back to the sidewalk with him. Out of nowhere, that dumbass hero jumped at the same time we appeared back in the sidewalk, and he didn’t just stopped the car, he crashed it! Can you believe it?! And it wasn’t just that car, the one behind it and another crashed too! It was madness! And the idiot looked around and saw me with the kid crying and addressed me as if I did something wrong, he jumped in too hard he could’ve smashed the poor kid!”

“Why was the kid crying?”

“He was trying to catch his puppy, that’s the worst part! I didn’t see the puppy, I just took the kid back to the sidewalk and the hero was yelling at me and I saw the poor thing lying dead in the middle of the street, so I yelled back at that stupid piece of shit! He’s supposed to be trained, he’s supposed to see the whole situation before jumping in to action, he could’ve save the puppy, but noooo!”

She kept ranting and moving her hands in the air and I was so enchanted by how much she depreciated that hero that I wished it was Endeavor the one that stood in her way. I would’ve killed to see the old man being reprehended by her in front of a crowd.

She was so into it that she didn’t notice I was taking her to the hospital to make sure she and the baby were fine. That night I saw for the first time an echography, the doctor said everything was normal but I felt like an idiot because I saw nothing on the screen.

They both laughed at me.

“It’s always hard for new parents, especially the dads” the doctor said, she was really nice, “I’m gonna show you something cool”

Suddenly Hana came in.

“Hi there! Whatchu doin?” She saluted playful as usual, but her eyes looked tired.

“Hana, shh” the doctor shushed her and my babe waved her hand.

A sound filled the room, it started as a numb beat and then it cleared… my babe closed her eyes and the doctor smiled. Hana covered her mouth with one hand and put the other on my arm while jumping in excitement.

“That’s your baby’s heartbeats,” she whispered but she probably wanted to scream.

I felt something warm in my chest, something I wasn’t able to put in words but it compared to the day I made blue flames, it filled me with joy somehow. I wished it would last forever.

[nocompromise-noregrets]

20 questions for fic writers

The impossibly lovely @mihrsuri tagged me in this a couple of weeks ago, and I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get round to it - but I find myself in need of distraction, just a little bit, as Last Cat Standing is in the veterinary hospital getting his radioactive iodine treatment for his thyroid, and we can't have him back for maybe ten days as he's going to be somewhat radioactive for a little while; I'm sure he's going to be fine (this is the treatment described to me by the treating vet as both 'the gold standard' and 'magical', in that it's effective in 99.5% of cases, and in the 0.5% it isn't, they just give it another go and then it's effective), but we haven't had an entirely cat-free house for this long in 20 years, and I'm feeling a bit weird about it. Also I'm procrastinating finishing off an essay plan (I'd rather just write the damn essay but no, we have to submit a plan for tutor feedback to make sure we're on the right lines, and as you all know by now, that's really not how I work XD )

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 362 (plus another 76 on the other account for the fandom that does not speak its name...)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 1,491,388 (good grief; nearly 1.5 million?! and if you add in the 270,606 on the other account, that's 1,761,994 O.O )

3. What fandoms do you write for? Tolkien (chiefly the Hobbit movies, and LotR, a mix of movie and book-'verse); King Arthur (2004); Fisherman's Friends (fandom of one); The Alienist (TV; occasionally); Marvel (occasionally, chiefly bits of the MCU and X-Men comics/Evolution); Top Gun (here and there) - and a bewildering number of others...

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? My Heart Is An Empty Vessel (621); Shape Up (422); Safe (414); Not Alone (413); The Unworn Jumpers of Molly Weasley (343)

This is bewildering but also a fine illustration of the vagaries of AO3 and the absolute folly of measuring anything by the amount of kudos a fic has: Empty Vessel is three and a half years old, took two years to post and has 115 chapters, so was at the top of the tag many many times over those two years. Shape Up and Safe were written and posted not long after Top Gun: Maverick came out (I don't know how busy the tag still is, but it was very busy when the film came out so the fics in that fandom got a lot of interaction because a lot of people were there looking for fics) and are both one-shots. Not Alone is also a one-shot (for X-Men: Evolution) and has been up on AO3 for nearly twelve years (and has had a bit of a boost with the release of X-Men '97). And Unworn Jumpers (on which I really ought to put some sort of disclaimer, along with the small handful of other ancient HP fics I've got up there) is a seasonal one-shot that's been up for over ten years and tends to get a bit of a boost every December. So *shrugs* go figure. And if anyone wants to help the only HP fic in the top five not be in the top five any more, Come Home is only 36 behind it, and it is fluffy and cute and has Elrohir persuading Maglor to come to Imladris for Midwinter somewhat in the guise of the Elfling he hasn't been for a very long time... :D

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes. Sometimes it takes me a while (oh god six months, but I got up to speed with them all and now I'm trying to make sure I do it within a week) as I am a champion procrastinator but I feel it's important for me to say thank you. And sometimes squee a bit. :D And sometimes it makes me a new friend, which is extra-awesome.

I have a few very very old comments on the stuff I posted before 2020 which I never did get round to answering, which I feel bad about, but I also feel like it would be weird to go back and answer them now...I dunno, what do you guys think?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't do angsty endings very often, but The Last Watch (in which Bard dies) is really sad, and Never Forgotten and See This Storm Through (in which Sigrid and Thranduil comfort each other after the funeral, and Legolas comes home to Dale to look after his father and his family and grieve with them, respectively) are almost as sad although they both end with a small amount of hope.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Ah, most of my fics end happily :D I'm far too tired for anything but, most of the time, these days. But let's face it, My Heart Is An Empty Vessel ends with a coronation and a wedding (spoiler alert! XD ) so let's go for that one.

8. Do you get hate on fics? I am lucky; the closest I've had was some anon complaining about Empty-Handed being a spoiler for the then-unposted Empty Vessel although the events it 'spoiled' were inevitable in the context of a mortal-immortal relationship, and someone whingeing in a bookmark comment that Thorin and Bilbo don't even talk until the end of Mr Underhill's Finest Seafood Specialities, thus completely missing the point of the fic (and the 'past' after the pairing tag) - it wasn't about them - which made me chuckle as much as the rudeness annoyed me.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Sometimes. I have phases when I feel like it, and (much longer) phases when I don't. It's generally only fairly tame and euphemistic (with the single and solitary exception of that one hanahaki fic about the twins the premise for which, although not the smut, came to me in a dream) and probably not all that imaginative since, as the acest of aces, the whole idea completely bewilders me XD

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Not unless you count various different parts of the Tolkien legendarium. My brain just doesn't work that way.

11. (there doesn't seem to be a question 11; I feel like this might be one of those Tumblr traditions, as I've definitely done question memes on here before that have been lacking in a question 11...)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have! I am deeply honoured that my KA fic Anniversaries was translated into Russian by Elenabu some years ago, and It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like... appears on Lofter in Mandarin, translated by AntheaXi. There were a couple of other Russian translations of some of my very old stories, but that was 15 or 20 years ago and I can't actually remember which or where.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have! A long long time ago, the fic that eventually became the original novel that is Two of a Kind, the tale of Hal and Jack, was a co-production, and I really enjoy bouncing ideas back and forth - and of course, there is the Tudors OT3-'verse fandom stuff that @mihrsuri and I have been pinging to and fro just recently, which is also hugely enjoyable. :D :D :D

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Oh, too many to name! Gawain/Galahad from KA2004, the bi widower dads, Legolas/Imrahil, Elladan/Elrohir, Erestor/Glorfindel, Sigrid/Tauriel, to name but a few.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I am determined to finish All I Want Is You. I am also determined to finish part whatever it is now of It's Always Been You, although that's been on the back burner for a long long time. There's one WIP on the other account which I'm also determined to finish although who knows if I'll ever get there. I'm not one for saying never, though. I was out of Tolkien fandom for 16 years, and after the fandom that does not speak its name fizzled out, I genuinely thought I'd never write again. And yet...here I am.

16. What are your writing strengths? Ooooh, I dunno. Spelling, punctuation and grammar, dialogue, leavening the serious romantic stuff with a bit of humour, kindness and love for the characters and settings, happy endings and quite a lot of fluff. :D

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plot. XD Can't plot to save my life.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Only when necessary for character reasons, and always provide a translation. Otherwise you're shutting out readers who don't understand (unless it's not important that they actually understand precisely what's being said as long as they get the gist).

19. First fandom you wrote for? Knowingly? X-Men (comics), and that fic is here, although I posted it ten-odd years after first posting it to ff.net.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? All of them. I cannot possibly choose.

Thank you so much for the tag, lovely! Entirely no-obligation tags go to @lemurious, @verecunda, @writerman, @scary-grace, @seagull-energy, @herawell, @thenookienostradamus, @sallysavestheday, @myeaglesong, @palavapeite, @bigneonglitter, @bishkebab, @peonybroadbeltofbuckland, @redeemer46, @spiced-wine-fic and anyone else who wants to do this - if you see this and fancy it, please consider yourself well and truly tagged!

[kotias]

I just counted the amount of words I've written in about 13 months

And holy shit.

Finished: 95 416 words Currently WIPing: 202 243 words Total: 297 659 words

This isn't taking into account:

the RPs I might have done to help other writers out of their writing slumps

the small scenes and drabbles I might have written here and there for specific occasions

For anybody who needs to hear it: you will find your spark again, I promise you. I did.

In 2015, I was hit with a writing slump that lasted until August 2023, so 8 years.

During that slump, I would barely reach 3 000 words in 1 year, if I was lucky, and it would be tiny pieces of writing here and there.

This word count is about 100 times more than that, in 1 year.

I am baffled by this, and am so happy to see this.

The Good Omens fandom literally saved my creativity, and whatever happens in the future, this fact will remain.

Where I "started" in August 2023:

And He Fell (Good Omens)

The spear pushed through his wings and into his body a few seconds later, and he saw Gabriel walk past him, the records firmly in his hands. No spear, which he knew was still held by someone. The weight of his fate pushed him against his little angel, holding onto his arms as he crumbled at his feet, his head sliding down his torso as Aziraphale let go of the spear. His eyes… they were still warm. Full of pity. “Good job, angel. It was lovely getting to know you, and may we meet again on a better occasion,” he whispered with the last angelic breath he could draw. He felt the pain of each feather of his wings corrupting and falling, the agony of his cells rebuilding themselves entirely. His vision fogged as his eyes lost the Light, his legs, sprawled on the ground, felt excruciating torture as scales appeared all over them. But not a cry came from him. He looked at Aziraphale, gave him a weak smile, as his ears retracted and his arms rotted away. Aziraphale, the kindest soul to exist, did not retract, did not cower in disgust. He watched him, with pity, as the ground itself gave way under him and the hands of the Darkness grabbed him by the bust, dragging him into Hell. Tormenting path, as he had no hands left to catch his tears, no functional mouth left to scream, no legs left to run to him. Only one promise remained. I will crawl out of this pit, and I will damn you all, and I will drag you all to Hell.

Hissing and growling for the next millennium, shuffling his long and fine body on the ground, his heart never ceased to ache, even as his memories of the better times were fading away, leaving place to an undying hatred of Heaven and of their Great Plans.

Crawley was the name bestowed upon him.

Where I am now:

Warzone, my latest WIP - first chapter here, excerpt is from a chapter I am still working on (Deadpool and Wolverine)

“That’s it,” Logan said in a breath.

Wade nodded, placing his hands back into the bucket and hissing from the cold biting at his nerves. He came back to pressing his knuckles into Logan’s spine, just a little higher, until another snap was heard.

He kept going, slowly and methodically, pressing his hands, rolling his palms and fingers into the crooks of Logan’s body, feeling with each of his movements that the muscular back was relaxing under him. It made the pain of the frostbite slowly taking his fingers bearable; in fact, it made him feel warmer, from his chest to his stomach, like a warm blanket had been wrapped around him. That was an odd feeling, which he compartmentalized into a neat, small, locked folder of his mind that he had kindly labeled ‘Feelings I can’t deal with right now.’

Yes, of course he knew how he felt about Logan. Wade might be God’s perfect idiot, but he was no fool, and if anybody should know about idiotic feelings and unwarranted hopes for love, damn, he was a desperate bitch craving for attention—he was perfectly aware of the fact that what he felt wasn’t just the effect of blood rushing out of his brain after too bold and horny of a flirt. No, that was different. One author or the other might even tag it pining. And this, dear readers, wasn’t something he could deal with right away, not with Logan, not when he was in pain, and certainly not while straddling him in the middle of Al’s living room. Even if Logan did make crazy noises as he touched him and released him for a bit, even if he did not seem to reject him when he was being forward. He would reject the idea of Wade being interested in him, it would seem, but he did respond beautifully to him, enough that the folder he was hiding those feelings into was beginning to grow very full, threatening to burst back open at any time.

And Wade really hoped it would happen at the right time. Or at least, because he knew the universe hated him enough to spite him every chance it got, not at the worst time.

[aalissy]

Love Poems

Here's day 9! I hope you like this lil chapter of Ladrien fluff <3. Lemme know what you think <3

AO3

The warm glow of the setting sun bathed Paris in hues of gold and pink, casting a romantic ambiance over the city. Ladybug swung gracefully from building to building, her thoughts occupied by one person—Adrien Agreste. Today was special. They had been dating for a few months now, and she had an idea that she hoped would surprise him.

Hanging by his window, Ladybug took a moment to gather her courage. She and Adrien had decided to spend the evening together, and she wanted to share something personal with him. She tapped lightly on the glass window, and a moment later, Adrien appeared with a bright smile.

"Ladybug," he greeted, opening it for her. "Come in."

"Hi, Adrien," she replied, stepping inside. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all. I've been looking forward to this all day." He led her to a cozy corner of his room where they could talk without interruption. "What do you have there?" he asked, noticing the small, folded piece of paper in her hand.

Ladybug blushed slightly. "It's a poem. I wrote it for you."

Adrien's eyes lit up. "You wrote me a poem? That's amazing! I actually wrote one for you too."

They both laughed at the coincidence, their hearts feeling lighter. Adrien retrieved his own poem from his desk and sat beside Ladybug on the couch.

"You first," Adrien said, his eyes full of anticipation.

Ladybug nodded, unfolding her paper and taking a deep breath. She began to read:

"In the heart of Paris, where dreams take flight, there's a boy who fills my days with light. With every laugh and every glance, he's given my heart a second chance. Through trials faced and battles fought, he's the anchor to my every thought. With a love so pure, it can't be wrong, in his arms, I know where I belong."

Adrien's heart swelled with emotion as he listened to her words. "Ladybug, that's beautiful. I love it."

She smiled, her cheeks flushed with happiness. "Now it's your turn."

Adrien unfolded his paper and began to read, his voice steady but filled with emotion:

"In a city of wonders, where shadows play, there’s a girl who brightens my every day. Her courage shines, her heart so true, with every moment, I fall for you. With each swing through the night, each daring leap, your smile’s the secret I always keep. Though masks may hide what’s true and real, in my heart, our love’s the deal."

As he finished, Ladybug felt tears of joy welling up in her eyes. "Adrien, that was perfect."

He reached out, gently wiping away her tears. "I meant every word."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. They leaned in, their foreheads touching as they held each other close.

"Ladybug, no matter what happens, I want you to know that you’re my everything," Adrien whispered.

"And you're mine," she replied softly. "I love you, Adrien."

"I love you too, Ladybug."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in twilight, they sat together, their hearts intertwined by the words they had shared. In that moment, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, their love would always find a way.

With the poems they had written, they had found a new way to express their love, creating a memory that would last forever. And as they sat there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the city of Paris continued to shine around them, a testament to their enduring love.

Feeling the magic of the moment, Adrien reached behind the couch and pulled out a small, wrapped gift. "I have one more surprise for you," he said, handing it to Ladybug. She unwrapped it to reveal a beautiful locket with a tiny inscription: "Together forever, in love and in life." Tears of joy filled her eyes again as she hugged Adrien tightly, knowing their love was truly timeless.

He gently pulled back, looking deep into her sapphire eyes. "Ladybug, can I kiss you?"

A soft smile spread across her lips. "Yes, Adrien. Please."

He leaned in slowly, their faces mere inches apart. Ladybug closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his breath. Then, their lips met in a tender kiss, a connection that spoke of promises and dreams, of a future they would face together. The kiss was gentle, filled with the love and emotions they had shared in their poems. It was a perfect moment, a blend of passion and affection.

As they parted, their foreheads still touching, Ladybug whispered, "That was perfect."

Adrien smiled, brushing a stray hair from her face. "Just like you."

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other, their hearts beating in unison. The stars began to twinkle above Paris, bearing witness to their love, a love that would shine as brightly as the lights of the city itself. In each other's arms, they knew they had found their true home.

[mrscorcoran]

One more secret won't hurt / Bunny x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Notes:

This fic is the stupidest thing i've ever written and i love it passionately.

I wrote a bunch of future chapters months ago and just started working on the middle ones so if anything doesnt make sense it's probably cuz i forgot what i wrote before lmfao

_______________________________________________________

Chapter 9: Portals and shit

- “I was not allowed to watch them,” said Bunny, reaching into the bag of Cheetos. “My mom said they open portals, or invite spiritual shit to come into your house, so I never really got into them. Catch!” he yelled, throwing one cheeto  at me, or near me, really. The cheeto flew past me, and hit the tree behind me, then fell to the grass.

- “You have the shittiest aim I’ve ever seen,” I laughed, reaching into the bag myself. “My mom used to say the same thing, but that never stopped me from watching every horror movie I could get my hands on. Catch!” I yelled, tossing the cheeto at Bunny a lot more gracefully than he had. He caught it effortlessly with his mouth.

- “Maybe you just suck at catching them, have you considered that?” he raised his eyebrows at me, defiantly. “I don’t know, the only one I remember ever seeing is Sleepy Hollow at a friend’s house when I was 11 and it scared the crap out of me,” he said, pushing the bag of cheetos to the side and laying down on the blanket. He scooched closer, laying his head on my lap and closing his eyes.

- “Seriously? An animated Disney movie scared the crap out of you?” I asked, mindlessly playing with a short strand of his hair. I always thought I was uncomfortable with physical touch, hugs never came naturally to me, casual touches from people always startled me and caught me off guard. I’d never gotten very close to anyone before though. When Camilla started hugging me every time she saw me, I had my initial startled reaction the first few times. It started feeling more natural quite fast though, and the next thing I knew, I was hugging her just as much as she was hugging me. By the time Bunny and I were comfortable enough around each other for casual physical touch, I was already used to it from Cam.

- “What? No! The one with Johnny Depp and that creepy guy with the pointy teeth!” he burst out laughing, but his eyes remained closed.

- “Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. Even I have to admit that one is pretty scary,” I conceded. I had begun braiding random strands of his hair. “But c’mon, you were 11! What are you now, like 23? I’m sure you can handle a horror movie now. Please? For me?” I begged, softly pulling one of the braids to annoy him.

- “Ouch! You know I have a sensitive scalp, you fuck!” he swatted my hand away playfully. “Fine, I’ll watch a horror movie with you. Just, please choose something mild for my sake. No Sleepy Hollow just yet,” he gave me an imploring smile. "And will there be alcohol?" he quickly added. 

- “Of course there'll be alcohol, the fuck do you think I am?" I chuckled, rolling my eyes. "I promise we’ll start with something chill and ease you into the scarier stuff,” I gave his chest a reassuring pat, happy I was finally going to introduce him to one of my favorite things ever.

- “Fine, I’ll be over later tonight then so you can torture me,” he sighed, getting up and brushing small bits of dry leaves off his clothes. He gave me a quick smile before walking away, towards his last class of the day.

I chuckled, looking at the small braids bouncing on his head with each step he took.

______________________________________________________________

- "So, you sleep with him already?" Judy asked, laying on my bed as I cleaned my room and picked stuff up from the floor.

- "Once again, no I did not. He's my best friend. Nothing more," I reply calmly. Judy asks the same question periodically, sure that the answer will be yes someday.

- "Thought I was your best friend," she said, rolling her eyes. "But still, I mean, you hang out with him pretty much everyday, you're always all over each other, don’t you fall asleep speaking on the phone most nights? He's coming over soon to 'watch a horror movie' just the two of you, alone in your room. That's the universal code for 'we're gonna fuck'." She looks up at me, clearly exasperated.

- "People can be friends and not fuck each other, Judes," I give her a quick smile, while putting a bunch of mismatched socks into a drawer.

- "Sure. People can. Not you two, though. Everyone can tell you're very much into each other," Judy replies, lazily scrolling through Instagram on her phone.

- "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint but I think you're very wrong on this one, babes," I shrug, looking around at the slightly less messy room.

- "It's just a matter of time, mark my words," she says with an air of finality and gets up from the bed. "See you later, I gotta go to rehearsal" she slips out of my room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I'd be lying if i said Judy's words don't rattle me every now and then. Of course I've considered the possibility of me and Bunny, after all, it was my initial fascination with him that started all my friendships with the Greek class. But we have been friends for months. He quickly grew into one of my closest friends ever, and he has never tried anything with me, so he's clearly not interested like that, so dwelling on these thoughts and letting them develop into actual feelings would be masochistic. Plus, if I tried anything and it wasn't reciprocated, it could ruin my other friendships too, and I simply cannot lose Cam, or Francis.

I definitely can't lose Bunny.

Nope.

Better to leave things as they are, and not dwell on it.

The knock on my door gets me out of my head. I shake the last of the thoughts away and open the door. I'm relieved to feel no butterflies when I see him smiling at me. I only see my dear friend, and smile back. I need to stop letting Judy get in my head.

- "I hope you're ready for this," I say, stepping aside to welcome him into my room. He raises an eyebrow, and walks in.

- "Well damn, I thought we were only watching a movie, but if you have other plans..." he winks at me as he walks past me towards my bed. I drown the small flutter I feel in my stomach at the suggestion with a quick laugh. Damn you, Judy. "Seriously, though, you didn't choose a super scary one, did you?" the look of genuine concern in his eyes makes me burst out laughing. Any trace of butterflies forgotten, as I comfortably slip into our usual bantering dynamic.

- "Of course not, I don't want you peeing my bed..." I roll my eyes, walking towards the desk to retrieve my laptop.

He gets comfortable on my bed, his back resting against the wall. I grab a couple of beers from the minifridge and join him, placing the laptop on my lap, hit play, and lean my head on his shoulder. A new little ritual is added to the list. Monday nights were for watching a horror movie.

All these little rituals I had with both Bunny and Cam were taking up a lot of my time. Between going to random courses with Cam, trying restaurants and watching movies with Bunny, our little book club meetings the three of us, and all the activities in between with the other guys, I was legit spending almost every single day with the Greek class. Almost.

Every Sunday night they all sort of disappeared. As I spent the day hiking on Sundays, and Cam only joined my hikes occasionally, most Sundays I wouldn’t see any of them at all. I asked Bunny a couple times about it, but he’d just shrug and say they were busy with some project for Julian or something, so I stopped pushing and eventually accepted that’s just something they did.

[backtothefanfiction]

The Secrets We Keep | Part One

Summary: It's another morning and Jeb is ready to clock in for another quiet shift at his new precinct. However he's no where near ready for what's waiting for him as he get's out the car.

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Mentions of character deaths and disillusionment in religion, LSD, religious history/trauma, brief mention of the Lafferty case, marriage issues, meet cute, this is a reader insert character with a name and back story written in third person. Apart from a used nickname, the female character has no physical characteristics, imagine them however you want.

A/N: So when I said coming extremely soon, I meant a couple of hours. I've been sitting on this for a little bit now and although I am working on chapter three I have no idea how often this will be updated so bare with, but I think we can all agree there needs to be some more Jeb Pyre love over here. So without further ado, enjoy our meet cute for our childhood sweethearts. (@sincericida eat your heart out)

One

Jeb rubbed absentmindedly at his eyes. He hoped it would remove the tiredness in them, but secretly he hoped they’d act as an iron to smooth out the wrinkles that were forming at the edges of his eyes. He thought he’d gotten quite lucky with his genes. Despite being almost 36 now, he didn’t look a day over 29. Or at least he hadn’t. The Lafferty case had aged him. The stress and the fallout after, only making it worse. Now instead of looking 29, he looked closer to 32; which still wasn’t bad, but now he was far more aware of the dark circles under his eyes and the crows feet appearing in the corners.

He rubbed at his face again as he locked his car and began to walk the few short paces across the sidewalk to the stone steps that led up to the front of the station. Small patches of snow continued to linger in the corners from a recent flurry.

“Jeb? Jeb Pyre?” Her voice woke him from his stupor, his eyes squinting as he looked closer at her features. An act he knew would definitely do little to help with those crows feet.

“Goldie? Goldie Jensen?” Jeb frowned both with surprise and uncertainty as she started to make her way over to him.

“Wow. Nobody’s called me that in years.” She said cheerily as she came to a stop a couple paces before him.

“Wow.” Jeb sighed. “How many years has it been?”

“It’ll be 18 years this summer.” She replied.

“Wooow.” Jeb sighed again as he rubbed a hand at his chin, his feet absentmindedly stepping to the side and back again as he took in the information. It made him feel old. Sure running after his kids in the front yard also made him feel old, his lower back griping, lungs burning as he tried to keep up with them; but this, this predated Annie and Caroline. It even predated him meeting Rebecca.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were still in East Rockwell.” She continued to beam.

“I am. Well sort of. I’m in the process of moving because of work- it’s complicated.” He tried to explain. “What about you? What brings you here?”

“Well I’ve been here for around 3 years now actually.” She nodded at him with pursed lips. “I uuhh… well it’s complicated.” She said, stealing his previous line.

He paused, “I heard about your folks.” His face fell. “I am so sorry.”

“Thanks.” She said, finally dropping her smile. Her head turned away from him, hands slotting into the pockets of her coat, eyes shifting to scan the sidewalk on the opposite side of the road. 

“We uh- I lost my Mom too. About 9 months back.” He said, a faint wobble to his voice.

“I’m so sorry.” She replied, finally turning back to look at him again.

“Thank you.” He nodded at her politely. “She was um-“ he cleared his throat, his words growing sticky like tar in his mouth, “she was ready to go, you know. She missed my Dad… and of course with the dementia.” He said.

“Jeb, I’m so sorry. That must have been so hard.”

He just nodded, swallowing hard, hoping it would remove the lump in his throat. He’d loved his mother dearly; and although he had kept telling himself she had been ready to move on, though they had known it was coming a long time, it still didn’t make it easier; or him any more ready when she did finally go. It made it even harder once he had moved into her old room, the memory of his mother all over those four walls. His parents judging gaze silently screaming from the pictures on the walls as he slept separately from his wife.

“So you’re working here now.” Goldie said, her voice finding its natural sunshine once more, as she attempted to change the subject. “I heard we were getting a new detective in town but I never thought it’d be you. To be fair though, I never saw you moving out of our hometown at all- no offense. Figured you had your whole life planned and set out for you since you were 15 years old.”

“Well,” he let out a small chuckle, “so did I, but I guess things change.”

Her voice turned serious. “I heard about that case. That poor Mother and child. I can’t imagine what it must have been like going through that.” She reached out her hand, still resting in her pocket, towards him. It was meant to be a soft, caring gesture, but ended up just coming across a little awkward, the corners of her jacket poking him. Yet for such a hard subject matter, it was just what they needed.

“Yeah, umm, I guess that’s why I took the transfer, you know.” He said, trying to swallow that invisible lump again.

“Yeah, I bet.” She said to him softly. Her eyes were so warm and inviting, he thought he could just melt right into them. “Uh, well, I’ve got to be getting to work.” She said with a smile and another small wave of her hands, still stuck in her pockets. “I uh, work in the coffee shop, just across the square.” She pointed with her still coat covered hand, the puffa jacket zipper flapping about making him smile. “You should pop in some time. I sure would like to treat you to a coffee- or just a hot chocolate or something-“ she quickly interjected checking herself, remembering the LSD types she used to be surrounded by back home were anti coffee.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He said with a smile, already feeling lighter than he had 5 minutes prior, just by being in her energy.

“Good.” She smiled.

“Good.” He hummed back. She noticed when he said it he had a small glint in his eye, a sparkle that had not been there a moment ago when she had first seen him climb out of his car.

“So I guess I’ll see you round?” She asked.

“Yeah. Yes.” He confirmed with a small nod and a flash of his hand as she began to skip down the sidewalk in the direction of the square. 

He turned to walk up the steps to the station but paused, checking over his shoulder to watch her, her head looking both ways before she crossed the street.

‘Goldie Jensen’ he thought to himself. There was a flash in his mind, a memory of kids playing on the playground in midday sunshine. Rolling down the small grass hill in the park. A kiss, placed upon youthful lips that had never touched another person other than their Mommas. He let his fingers ghost across his own lips at the memory as he slowly began to take the steps one at a time before entering the bustling little precinct.

Her fingers felt frozen as she tried to pick out the right key in order to open the little coffee shop, a small bell above the door jingling as it finally gave way. She quickly rushed inside, her boots rubbing vigorously against the doormat as her hands rubbed against each other, trying to get rid of the chill. She hated Winter. Christmas was okay, it brought in business; laughter between friends meeting for a coffee and a present exchange while the kids were at school. The lights that got hung across the square added a sense of magic to town. But then January always hit. The lights got taken down. People batten down the hatches with the post Christmas scrimp, waiting for the next payday all the way at the end of the month. The weather stays cold. The days stay short. But that’s how it goes. The same routine every year, just another number added to the end of the date.

She moved around the back of the counter, slipping through a little door in the back, her fingers automatically flicking on the switches and illuminating the quaint little cafe. She peered her head around the door frame as she watched each overhead light turn on before the fairy lights, that hung draped across the front windows, began to twinkle and glow. She smiled, there was no better sight in the world.

She shrugged her coat off of her shoulders, moving further through the back to the washing up area to hang it on a set of hooks, fixed to one of the walls. She flicked on the switch for the washing machine, allowing it to start warming through, before pushing back her fly away hairs from the cold morning wind and heading back out to the main shop floor to start warming up the coffee machine.

She smiled to herself as she began to pour a fresh bag of beans into the grinder. ‘Jeb Pyre.’ She thought to herself, ‘who’d have thought,”  as she began to do her set up for her own coffee, pressing the grounds flat with the tamper before slotting the portafilter into the group head and pushing the button for the hot water to filter through.

As the coffee began to pour through, it mixed in with the smell of ground beans that were already permeating the space. It may have only been 8 o’clock in the morning on a cold dreary day in the middle of January, but somehow amidst the steaming smell of fresh coffee and the comfort of running into an old friend, it felt like spring had walked into her life a little earlier this year.

[chayscribbles]

chayscribbles’ monthly writing update ☆ february 2023

☆ STATISTICS.

words written: 11 606

projects worked on: Andromeda Rogue; The Gemini Heist; and a Third, Secret WIP

proudest accomplishment: i'm about halfway through with AR1 draft 2! and i finished like, a bunch of drawings

books read: Architects of Memory by Karen Osborne; All Systems Red (Murderbot Diaries #1) by Martha Wells;

☆ GENERAL COMMENTS.

why do i feel like i wrote a lot less than i actually did. like i looked at my total and thought "now that can't be right... there's no way i wrote that much."

things are going better for some wips (AR) than they are for others (GH) so maybe my head is cancelling it out lol.

reading comments: Architects of Memory was basically "a corporate war over alien weapons featuring messy sapphics in space" and i liked it but it wasn't quite a coup de coeur, 4/5 stars. All Systems Red was an absolute delight, 5/5 stars, will be reading the rest of the series once my holds on Libby come through.

(also i started reading Hell Bent by Leigh Bardugo this past weekend, and i blame it + it's precursor Ninth House for putting me in the mood to work on Third Secret WIP lately, as Ninth House is partially responsible for the genre shift in Third Secret WIP.)

more specific wip-related comments + featured excerpt below.

☆ COMMENTS: ANDROMEDA ROGUE (draft 2)

i'm about halfway through this draft! i've passed 40k this month!

things are going super well. when i have the magical combo of time and energy and motivation to write i can get through scenes pretty easily, now that i don't have to worry about overall plot as much. plus i get to add little things here and there to beef it up.

i've mostly worked on the second act this month, which is where the team really starts going through things together.

there's one particular Azami chapter right before the midpoint that's a monster of lore-dropping. i had to rework it several times as i had an entire page of editing notes to make sure everything is coherent... and i'm still not entirely sure i've gotten it right 😭

☆ COMMENTS: THE GEMINI HEIST (outlining / draft 0.5)

not much to say about this one. didn't work on it as much. the plot for this wip continues to frustrate me. i'll find myself coming up with little ideas for the characters and the world... but when i try to sit down and come up with actual scenes and plot, my brain turns to soup.

☆ COMMENTS: THIRD, SECRET WIP

this wip is consuming me. devouring me with its teeth. i'm surprised to find i may actually have a plot. turns out letting it hibernate for 3 years and tweaking with the genre has done some good.

i might cave and post an intro in the next month. stay tuned...

☆ FEATURED EXCERPT.

this is from the like, one scene i wrote for gemini heist this month. i just think it's funny. for context, Leo and Gabi are trying to get access to some archives in a university library, and are posing as students.

As [Leo and the archivist] talked, Gabi slipped her hand into the pocket of her ridiculous jacket. Her fingers closed around a small round device. She glanced around. While Leo was doing a great job at keeping the archivist distracted, the commotion had caught the attention of nearly everyone in the room.

Just be normal, she told herself. She inched her hand out of her pocket.

“Which archives exactly do you need access to?” [the archivist] asked.

“Art of the early Viheldan Empiric era,” Leo said. “My paper is on the Gemini statuettes.”

“Ah, that might be why. You need a special authorization form from a professor or another faculty member to access those.”

Leo pouted. “But my professor said he got access for me!”

“Perhaps you can message him—”

“Ugh— can’t you just call him right now and ask? I don’t have time for this.”

“Alright. I’ll give him a call.”

Shit. Gabi wasn’t ready. She fumbled to take out the device, concealing it as best as she could in the palm of her hand. All she needed was to place it on the archivist’s computer terminal without him seeing a thing before he made that call.

The archivist’s fingers hovered over the screen for a second before pressing an icon at the bottom. With a starburst motion of his hand, he expanded a search window and began typing in the name of the professor. Panicking, Gabi slammed the device in her hand onto the side of the terminal.

The already quiet room went completely silent. All eyes turned towards her. The archivist’s were wide and stunned. Leo’s were sharp and furious.

“I, uh,” Gabi sputtered, awkwardly keeping her hand glued to the terminal. The device whirred to life, vibrating softly under her palm. “I-I thought I saw a bug.”

☆ TAGLISTS. let me know if you want to be added/removed to any of them.

general taglist:

@nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @retrogayyde @quilloftheclouds @ashen-crest @writeblrfantasy @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @extra-magichours @avi-why @lefttigerobservation @chazzawrites @bardolatrycore @innocentlymacabre

andromeda trilogy taglist:

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[stellarboystyles]

Chapter One — Begin Again

a/n: hiii chickens! so this is the start of a chaptered fic i've written over the past six months and she's finally ready! this story was very fun and painful to write because it's based off of the whirlwind that has been my life over the past year, so i hope you love it &lt;3

content/warnings: first base shit, oversharing and a night full of wholesome cuteness. you're welcome

"Do you remember the night we met?"

A sweet smile crept up onto her face, one she couldn’t hide, but tried to as she took another sip from the glass she was holding. 

"I do."

"Ooh, haven't heard those words in a while."

"Shut up." she laughs.

"Oi, fuck you then." he bites, failing to hide the smirk on his face behind his own glass.

"Please?"

"Easy." he warns with one finger. "Don't make me come over there."

It was easy with them, the connection they had. They've always been that way.

"Best first date ever though, right?"

"Right." she giggles at the smirk on his face before taking another sip.

"No matter how much I forget short term," he narrows, rolling his eyes for a moment at the annoying reality. "I still remember that night like it was yesterday."

March 2nd, 2019

"I can’t believe I’m doing this."

Parker's gripping her steering wheel, white knuckles and all after she rushes through the motions; putting her seatbelt on, shifting into reverse, all the while genuinely shocked by her own actions, that she’s actually going through with this. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

She repeated the same sentence over and over as she sped off down the street and into the city. It was her first first date in five years. How people do this on a regular basis, she truly can't fathom how. Who just meets up with a stranger on the internet after texting for a few days?! Parker, apparently. She's starting to question her own morals, because where did they go?

She was always the quiet kid in school. Kept her head down, never spoke out of turn and always avoided unnecessary social situations. It's more of a curse that a blessing, really. Considering it takes a lot for her to speak out against anything came with everyone else typically leaving her alone for the most part. On the other hand, as she got older she realized that it sucked to feel lonely. No matter how introverted she was, everyone wants friends. Parker grew up in a small town where if you weren't an athlete or a mean girl, no one really paid attention to you—and when they did, they never had anything nice to say. High school sucks for most of us, and she was no exception.

In other words, if you told seventeen-year-old Parker that she'd be going on a date with a stranger she's never met, she would've never believed you.

She's grown up a lot since then, though, and she's proud of that. It took years, but healing doesn't come easy. And right now, Parker was in the middle of that moment that everyone talks about.

Where you finally feel like you're ready to date again. When you've finally broken the walls down, ready to put yourself out there and see what happens.

She had a good feeling about this guy—if not she would've canceled days ago. Parker doesn't go on random dates, and if there is so much as a sliver of doubt, whether it's something they said or she's just getting an off vibe, date canceled. No energy needs to be spent on unnecessary ventures, right?

But this one felt different. She couldn't explain it...she'd never met him but she could feel in her heart that he was a good person. Sure, they've only been talking for a few days, but something about him just felt good, and right. When he talked, you could just tell he was good.

They'd "met" online, the god-forsaken dating app that most people used for casual flings or random hookups; however, they were part of the fraction of decent human beings left in the world looking for something real, and long term. To no avail of course (until now) swiping left, left and left again was exhausting. Until she saw one that piqued her interest in a way that just felt different. Of course, there were a few she’d matched with, but they never made it past hey or what's up due to either her being distracted by this one, or the typical outcome of them just not responding. Leading her to become bored of the rest. 

Harry, 20 Raleigh, NC Duke University

Not to be cliche, but to say this one was gorgeous was the understatement of the year. The goofy videos on his profile combined with the "I have a Damon Salvatore complex" in his bio definitely had her starting to crush on him.

What’s your major? was met with It’s complicated. That’s a conversation we should have on snap (:

He was really cute, no doubt about it. He had that all-American baby face, good hair—

and those eyes, my God.

It's important to mention, though, that if he was simply looks and there was no substance to him then there would've been a zero percent chance of her falling for him like she did. But there were little things that set him apart from others.

He sent her videos a lot instead of just snapping pictures, because honestly, talking is a way better form of communication. It was different and it was clear that he really tried to make each moment with her special. He'd cancelled their first date a couple of times (due to running behind because of one of his classes getting out late) and he'd told her he wanted to be able to give her all his time and attention. Which, was one of the sweetest things ever. It gave her a good feeling about tonight, for sure.

In the first video he sent to her that night, he started to explain how he was dropping out of college to go into the military, and eventually he would become an agent. She was impressed. Mostly because of the fact that he had real goals and dreams for himself, his future; something that a lot of people their age seemed to lack; drive and ambition. However, being a Virgo, she couldn't stop herself from picturing her future if they ended up together.

The CIA? What would that mean? Long distance, for sure. There was so much unknown, and Parker was slowly coming to terms with the solid fact that you can't control every part of your life. It didn't help either that her neurodivergent brain hated change, especially one so drastic. Regardless, she had to learn how to cope with this new chapter of her life. You could imagine that being newly single at 24 was not in her 5-year plan after college.

Parker's well aware of the fact that the current state of her life feels and looks just like a shitty Hallmark movie. The thought makes her want to gag, but that's what coping skills are for, right? So you're not cringing at every inconvenience at every moment? If there's one thing you need to know about Parker, it's that she hates small talk with a burning passion. If she could damn the mere idea of it back to hell, she would, because how could anyone enjoy that?! It's the number one reason she dreads first dates.

The further she got into her drive, the more nerves started to build up. Mistaking anxiety for butterflies was a feeling Parker knew all too well. Her past few boyfriends weren't exactly Romeo, so she was well versed in spotting a toxic person from a mile away.

However, with that came something more edgy. The sole idea of dating again petrified her. Getting close to someone again, being vulnerable and real just to get heartbroken again? The mere thought of it was enough to make her swear off dating ever again, but she told herself she wouldn't let it win, and she meant it.

Deep breaths. Whatever happens, happens.

It's easy to say, but as much of a control freak as Parker is over her life, so much easier said than done. She's had a 10-year plan outlined for her life since she was six years old, for Christ's sake. But that's another story for another time.

They'd decided to meet up in a parking lot, then they would both get into his car and go together. So when her peripheral picked up a car pulling up next to hers, she thought her heart wanted to beat out of her chest. It’s him, she knows it’s him, but she doesn’t react yet. Still staring down at her phone just in case it was some random person, even though the probability of that was less than likely. But if it was, how awkward would that be?!

Snapchat from Harry

She has to stop the smile creeping on her face. Now it has to be him. It was, because when she opened the snap and it was a picture of her in her car looking down at her phone, she's got a light smile on her face as she gets out of the car and walks around to the passenger's side. Moments like this happen so fast, you can't really plan for them, can you??

"That would’ve been really awkward if that wasn’t you."

They shared a laugh as she got into the car.

"So…Starbucks or Dunkin?"

"Definitely Starbucks."

"Y'know what, I respect that."

The more they talked as he drove, the more Parker realized Harry had something that was hard to find these days; that old school charm. Opening doors and all that. As soon as they walked in, Harry leaned down to her ear.

"M'gonna take a slight detour," he mumbles, one hand slipping from her waist. "Gotta pee, I'll be right back."

She looks up at him. "Do you want me to order yours?"

"Oh, no, it's ok." he assures. "I mobile ordered, I don't order in person...I'll be right back."

She didn't really have time to respond, which was probably intentional on Harry's part. On another note, how and why has she never thought of doing that?!

"Hey—"

The voice made her reluctant to turn around, because she knew it wasn't Harry.

"Is that your boyfriend?"

He was taller than her, dark hair. Nothing to write home about, but it was obvious he was trying to be semi-intimidating. She gives him an annoyed smile.

"We're on a date."

"Oh, gotcha." He nods and goes to turn around but stops. "You know he's not allowed to go on dates, right?"

"What?"

She can see Harry in her peripheral walking back towards them, thank God.

"I'm back." he turns to the guy that was talking to her, but he's already sitting back in his seat across the cafe. "What was that about?"

"Something about you not being allowed to go on dates?" she answers before thanks the barista for their drinks as they’re walking back out to his car.

"Yeah," he starts, pulling his safety belt. "We go to college together. And we're not allowed to date anyone, or like be seen out with a girl, y'know. At our school, I mean."

She nods in realization when he cuts in.

"But tomorrow's my last day, so I don't care."

He shifts the car into reverse. She almost forgot about the fact that his leaving, so really, it doesn't matter if they were seen together but Harry did a good job of easing any anxiety she could have about the possibility of getting him in trouble.

"I'll take you to my favorite spot." he mentions. “It’s a really good view.”

The drive was only a few minutes, but it felt longer. In a good way. He really wanted his hand to hold hers, but he was nervous. Little too soon too, right?

"You look really beautiful." he breathes. "I mean, you look amazing."

She bashfully thanks him, looking down at her knees while he's keeping himself from putting his hand on one of them.

"Okay," he sighs, trying to distract himself. "What music do you wanna to listen to?"

Of course, she gave him the typical response that the genre didn't matter. "It doesn't matter, anything."

"Really? 'Cause I don't think you'd like the music I listen to." he jokes.

She shakes her head dismissively in response to his satiricy. "It's fine."

"It's fine?" he teases, leaning into her as he starts messing with the aux. "I mean, it's kinda metal."

"Perfect."

He shows her two bands, and she recognizes both almost immediately.

"I grew up listening to this."

"Really?!"

"Yeah," she continues. "My dad loves rock music, we'd always listen to it when we were travelling."

"Did you travel a lot growing up?"

"Like vacations and stuff." she nods. “We used to live in the OBX.”

"Ah, gotcha." he nods before referring back to the previous conversation. "Yeah, I just went to one of their concerts, actually."

It was obvious that Harry was a passionate person; passionate about things he loved, like music. He was showing her concert videos on his phone and was telling her about the ideas and concepts behind each of his favorite bands.

"I love that...that's what makes big artists as successful as they are." she adds. "When you have something that sets you apart from everyone else."

He can't help himself, looking at her in pure disbelief for a moment before turning back, laying his head on his headrest. "You are the girl of my dreams, Parker Finn."

She lets out a giggle, rolling her eyes at the not-so-subtle remark at her Tinder bio.

girl of your dreams x

"How was your drive here, by the way?"

Okay, maybe she could tolerate some small talk...from certain people.

She also begrudgingly knows that you have to have some miniscule amount of small talk to get to know each other, so she allows it.

"It was good." she smiles. "I love driving, so--"

"Me too." he smiles. "In my hometown...I love just driving and listening to music."

"I do too!"

They quickly discovered there was a natural flow between them, something that you couldn't force. It was just there.

"So do you come to Raleigh a lot?"

Parker shakes her head. "I haven't been back in a long time."

"Well," he muses. "Today's your lucky day, because you have the best tour guide."

He leans into her, pointing at different buildings and what they are. Where he goes to school, where he used to work, stadiums and others similar.

"That’s where I went to school…that’s where I used to work, and that—" he points over to the far right. "Is the best stadium in the world."

she nods. "Home of the Blue Devils."

"Exactly." he looks at her with a narrowed eye. "Y'know, I love a girl who knows sports."

"Well that is where I went to school." she mentions.

"Ah, okay. So you're not really into football."

Guess it's your lucky day."

He chuckles in disbelief. Not only is she breathtaking...he couldn't really explain it yet. He'd only just met her, but there was just something about her. Whether it was the way the moonlight glows on her face, or the way her cheeky smile gave him butterflies, he was hooked.

"So what made you want to join the military?"

He lets out a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair. "Well,"

She notices his apprehension. "You don’t have to tell me—"

"No, no, it’s okay." he reassures. "Basically…I’m just not happy with the direction I was going, if I stayed at school."

"I hear that."

"It’s just…I just feel like I can do so much more, y’know? For the world."

"That’s how I feel a lot." she adds. "I always think, like…if I can help just one person feel like they’re not alone, or help them get through a hard time, then I’ve done my job—but if you can help more, and make a career out of it, that’s amazing."

"Do you ever get sick of your job?"

"No." she lets a light laugh. "I love what I do. You just have to find something that you’re really passionate about."

"I love that." he hums. "I need that."

"It takes time." she adds. "At least it did for me, to get where I am now. Everyone has their thing. The thing they love. Not like a person or anything like that. It could be a hobby, something you're good at or just something you want to be good at."

"Are you doing that? You're a teacher, right? S'that what you wanna do for the rest of your life?"

"I love teaching." she admits. "But I have other passions, too."

"What are the other ones?"

She shrugs. "Guess you'll have to stick around and find out."

He catches himself staring at her in awe, but he couldn’t help himself. The high points of her face were glowing in the moonlight.

"Where did you come from?"

She turns her head, looking out at the skyline. She doesn't quite know what to say, and doesn't really have time. He places two fingers on the right side of her jaw, turning her head. She smiles out of knowing what he's doing, and her smile is contagious, leading him to quickly mirror her action.

He kisses her.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered, and everything made sense.

[lilyoffandoms]

After seeing @peonyblossom’s rec for a writer I haven’t read, I had to rectify that situation immediately! And I was NOT disappointed!! In fact, I was so beyond excited to find this fic that I’m gonna go so far as to make this the eighth writer I’m recommending to y’all this month 💕

I was so excited to click on the link and find this story over at ao3! You’ve no idea!!

First off, Ethan’s heart skippin a beat has me all awww!

"Nothing?" Tobias raises an eyebrow, "You want me to believe that?"

"Nothing?" Tobias raises an eyebrow, "You want me to believe that?"

"...No." Ethan shakes his head, "Not really."

haha this seems like something Tobias would say. Not ‘you expect me to believe that’ but a ‘do you want me to’. Gah it seem like such a small thing that one word makes all the difference. It’s so respectful! Like okay I’ll believe it if you want me to. Love this!

Not them having a place to go for private talks and moments!!!

“Look, Tobias, if you murdered someone and need to bury a body I won't turn you in but I am not getting involved." Ethan says, jokingly.

"What? No! Nothing like that." Tobias chuckles a bit, "Also, coward."

Ethan can't help but chuckle too, "I've dealt with you for almost two years already and I am not that attached to you to commit a felony."

"Boooooo." Tobias sighs lightheartedly, "Keep telling yourself that, but I know you're not above helping me bury a man."

This whole exchange lol is fuckin perfection!!! Plus that last bit, ‘…I know you’re not above helping me bury a man.’ The other connotations here are *chef’s kisses*

But this whole exchange that follows is so important to see in fiction!! Like it’s a scary terrifying thing to come out, even to friends. Coworkers and people that hold your freakin livelihood in theirs hands is even worse. The steps one needs to take to do that are… man (gender neutral) I don’t even wanna go back to thinking about that.

Ethan nods, "Alright. I guess...Tobias is Tobias."

But gah! this exchange just prior and this line in particular might as well have been me when this all went down with my partner. (Maybe a few more swear words lol but not directed at me just my partner trying to comprehend what that meant for us and settle into a new view of me and us. It’s a bad habit he picked up from me 😅).

Tobias smiles at that, "...And you're still Ethan."

But ugh! my little non-binary heart! This is beautiful!!

This reminds me of something a friend told me when we were going through a rough patch after my realization. The change is vocabulary for the other person takes some getting used to and it all comes down to ‘they are mine’, whether that be friend, partner, family, or something other. If you feel they are your’s in some meaningful way, that is all that matters and that is something worth fighting for and learning for and growing for.

To see this written out and this story told makes me so beyond happy!!

Okay now that I’ve had a trip down memory lane and taken y’all with me (sorry), I just gotta say that I loved this all! It was beautifully written and so in character and, my freakin gods, you handled this topic so well and so beautifully!!

Thank you for sharing it with us @jaredkau <3 <3 <3