#Anyway happy black history month and late v-day

[art-of-a-space-duck]

Mensah and her wives.

From left to right: Farai, Ayda Mensah, and Tano (until the books or Wells say otherwise, Tano is a they/them enby to me).

[juniorgman187]

Serendipity (Reid Fic) Part 1

A/N: If you’re wondering if this is at all based on Rosie and Marco’s storyline in “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” then you should know - it totally is.

Summary: An FBI gathering brings Reader and Spencer together after years of distance. This one night changes not only their future, but their perspective on the past.  Category: Angst, Smut, *NSFW content Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Mentions of traumatic childhood, child neglect, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, menstruation, pregnancy Word Count: 10.2k

I originally thought I would be able to fit everything into 1 part, but after further reconsideration, this will be a two part series. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Serendipity: (n). Finding something good without looking for it.

A word I would only come to truly understand many months from now on a warm Thursday morning in May at St. Mary’s Hospital. 

But whenever my thoughts drifted back towards the past, I would always remember that this was how it all began - on a chilly Saturday night in the heart of D.C.

Not more than four hours ago, Emilia and I drove down here for an F.B.I function that hired us. Under normal circumstances, we wouldn’t have agreed to be the caterers for an event so far away, but we eventually signed on after learning that there were at least 600 people attending. That meant a considerable amount of customers and an exorbitant amount of money. Saying yes was clearly a no brainer. 

Just to put it into perspective of how big this event would be, Emilia and I got lucky if we could park somewhere with 80 customers. 80. So this event would be colossal for us.

But who would have guessed that in a crowd of 600, I would run into the one and only - Spencer Reid. 

To preface, this wasn’t just any old birthday party, parade, or festival. It was a celebration and a grand one at that. Considering it was a private event at the Washington Monument, we were given special instructions to abide by the black-tie formal dress code that guests had to follow, too. I guess the caterers can’t look like slobs in the United States’ Capitol, now can they?

I definitely spent more time than I should have deciding on what outfit to wear, but my conscientiousness, or rather indecisiveness, did pay off in the end. For I would run into someone worth the trouble of impressing. 

My hair, unlike Emilia’s, was down and curled in big waves, and on one side, some of my hair was tucked behind my ear and designed to stay that way thanks to copious amounts of hairspray and an ungodly total of bobby pins. Emilia lent me a black, floor-length dress that had a plunging v-neck that didn’t fit her anymore, but luckily, fit perfectly on me. Although I would have to remember not to lean over too far tonight, otherwise, the customers might get a show they didn’t pay for. I, however, didn’t look half so good as my business partner. 

Emilia was clad in a navy blue silk dress with puffy sleeves and a high collar; the dress clung to her every curve, including her newly protruding belly bump. She looked regal and pregnant all at the same time, qualities I hadn’t seen coexist in anyone but the Queens and Duchesses in England. 

“Well, don’t you look hot?” Emilia purred, running her fingers through my curls, then letting them fall and sway back into place. 

“Are you kidding? You are quite literally a sexy mama.” I gushed to her, receiving a light chuckle in return. 

“Yeah, well, when you’re five months pregnant, tell me how sexy you feel in a tight dress.” She remarked, turning her back to me while she arranged all the supplies in the kitchenette behind me. But even as she faced away from me, she still managed to recognize the effect her words had. Maybe it was something in my silence, or our sister-telepathy, but Emilia immediately felt the room depress. In an effort to take back the remark that turned the room cold, she sweetly added while hugging me from behind, “You’re gonna be a mom one day, too. I promise.” 

I leaned into her embrace, feeling guilty for ruining the moment while also feeling burdened by the reminder of the terrible reality I had to face every day.

Ever since I could remember, I thought I was destined to be a mother, but that destiny had yet to be fulfilled.

Emilia was born only three years after me, and though that age gap isn’t big enough for me to be mistaken for her mother, I, she, and our younger brother Saul would all agree that in many ways I was their mom. I was the parent our parents never were. I was there for everything - soccer games, dance recitals, winter musicals - never getting the chance to participate in my own, but always attending their’s. 

I had to admit sometimes it was a burden, having to grow up so fast and help raise my siblings while still trying to navigate through my own struggles of adolescence, but I saw it as something I was meant to do. 

See, I wouldn’t have minded all the responsibilities of being a parent so much when it’d be my own kids that I’d be fulfilling them for - when it would be by my choice to fulfill those responsibilities and not by unfortunate birth order. 

However, as the years have gone by, my calling to be a mother has gotten quieter and quieter and quieter until eventually, I don’t think I’ll be able to hear it anymore. 

It’s not that I can’t have kids, but the fear of rushing into having one is what’s stopped me from pursuing that dream. 

As someone who grew up with divorced parents and practically became my siblings only reliable caregiver, I knew what having a baby too soon could do to a family. So rather than repeating history, I chose to wait to have kids. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes my parents did, and so I lived my life. I traveled all across the globe, I met new people, tried new things, I even started this taco truck business with Emilia. 

But still that gaping hole in my chest remained. A hole that nothing could ever fill the way that a child would. 

No amount of living could make up for the emptiness of a life with no family.

I could pretend all I wanted that I was happy living out my twenties, but the truth was I didn’t want to spend the rest of my years working in a food truck, amounting to nothing more than a mediocre cook and middling entrepreneur. That was never my dream - as exciting as it was. 

My real dream was to have a good life. The kind my parents never had thanks to the unplanned arrival of me. The kind my baby sister was already living out. 

“You know what? It’s a really nice night out. I think I might go for a walk. Do you wanna come?” Was this my blatant avoidance of breaching the subject of pregnancy? Yes, but it was also my escape from this food truck that felt like it was getting smaller and smaller and smaller by the second. 

“No, I’m okay. I’ll just get everything ready.” Emilia resigned. 

She knew why I was really leaving - sister-telepathy, I’m telling you - but she didn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. For that, I was thankful. Maybe we were better at communicating with no words at all. 

I carefully stepped off the back of the truck, making sure to hike up my dress high enough so I wouldn’t trip over the mess of fabric when my feet hit the floor. The nippy December air felt like a cool balm on my hot skin. I was burning up in that truck, and maybe it was nerves or something else, but I just had this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. There was no explanation for it, but I realize now that the pit in my stomach was caused by something my intuition could sense but something my mind couldn’t understand. 

Someone important from my past was here tonight.

As I sauntered around the monument, I took in the breathtaking view of the structure’s silhouette against the blazing orange sky that melted into an ocean blue. I regretted not bringing my phone to take a picture of it so I could show Emilia when I got back, but that one regret quickly turned into another when the night sky’s breeze brought a rude awakening. My body shivered at the frigid gust of wind that blew through and I suddenly started to regret not bringing a jacket.

“Are you cold?” A gentle voice asked me from behind. 

I slightly recoiled out of shock of someone being there. When I turned around though, I couldn’t quite make out any distinguishable features. All I knew for sure was that this was certainly a man, and a tall one, too. 

“Um, just a little.” I bashfully admitted, crossing my arms to hug myself and maintain some warmth. I hadn’t even thought about my dress’s plunging v-neck or the fact that I was practically squeezing my breasts together, accentuating them even further, but by the time, I realized, it was too late. He was already looking. But not at my chest. Somewhere far more invasive. 

My eyes. 

“Here, take my jacket.” 

My small protests did nothing to stop him as he inevitably slipped the coat around my shoulders anyway. He’d come so close that I could finally see him and smell him. And let me tell you, if the sight of him wasn’t enough to break an overflowing dam of memories, then his smell certainly sent a flood that would.

“Oh my god,” I quietly gasped, my hand flying to my mouth to cover its un-ladylike gaping. 

“Spencer Reid?”

I squinted my eyes and cocked my head even further to find evidence to support my assumption, and sure enough, I found exactly what I was looking for. 

I was frozen in place as I deeply examined his face. My God! I mean, in many ways, he hadn’t changed a bit since the last time I saw him. Same dazzling hazel eyes. Same uniquely adorable nose. Same over-stimulated pink lips. I wonder if he still bit them as much as he did back then? 

But at the same time, he was so different. Of course, I could still discern the same features I used to study endlessly back then, but his face had transformed into a man’s. He lost the glasses for one thing, but he also had a softer jawline, longer hair, and for lack of a better term, a beefier build.

He was all grown up now, and yet, I could still identify the same boyishly handsome charm that made me fall in love with him more than a decade ago.

“I knew it was you, (y/n).” He chuckled, sounding half proud of himself. My heart fluttered at the sound of my name on his tongue and the action that followed. With his eyes locked on mine, he tucked strands of my hair back behind my ears; it’s as if he were saying, “Let me get a good look at you.” 

“How? It’s almost completely dark outside. You could barely even see me.” Certainly, you can understand why I was skeptical. Sounded too good to be true, if you ask me. 

He shook his head lightly with a smile, seemingly questioning how I couldn’t possibly know the answer to that question. “No one else looks like you. Not even in the dark.” 

His words spoke to a part of my soul specifically reserved for him. They were so genuine that I almost didn’t want to believe them because how could someone speak such lovely things and truly mean them? The world wasn’t that good a place. Certainly not good enough for Spencer Reid. 

In that moment, I flew out of my own body and watched this entire scene unfold from up above. I could see the version of a girl I hadn’t seen in years, not since that last interaction with Spencer. She had these big lovesick eyes as she swooned over a man with just the same lovesick look. 

The excessive upward tilt of my head and the way his neck craning down must’ve made it seem like we were about to kiss, but I knew better than to expect such a thing from Spencer Reid. And if anything, what we were doing right now was much more intimate than kissing. 

“Wow, you ... you really grew up. You look great.” My own voice sounded unfamiliar to me after the words slipped from my mouth without even registering in my brain first. 

“Are you kidding? Look at you! I mean, you are just ...” He paused for a moment to look me up and down, and I nearly shivered at the thought that he was practically undressing me with his eyes. “You’re absolutely beautiful. But you always were.” 

I was almost completely in a daze when I heard a hideous squawk of a bird flying overhead. This wouldn’t make sense, but it nearly felt like a sign. Like the bird knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, reminding me of where I belonged - reality - not in this fantasy with Spencer. 

“Um,” My head spun as I drew back from him. “I should probably get back. I’ll see you later.” I touched his upper arm gently as I passed by him, and it stunned me how warmth just radiated off of his body. 

To my all too quick goodbye, he simply waved and watched me walk past him with a pursed-lip smile. And just before I got too far, I thought I heard him say, “I hope so.” 

Though my feet were carrying me away from Spencer, my thoughts were only drifting closer to the memory of him, and we did have so many memories. 

11 Years Ago ...

I was at the ripe age of 16 when I got my driver’s license. And to anyone else, this would seem like a given milestone, but to me - it was so much more. With the obtainment of my license, I also gained access to a whole new world. Opportunities poured at the seams. I could drive anyone and anywhere I wanted to and though it wasn’t true, it felt like I could do anything, too. But like all things good in my life, it fell apart in the face of responsibilities. 

My newly obtained license was just another way for my parents to exploit me. Now, they didn’t have to drive Emilia and Saul since I could. Looking back, I have to wonder if the only reason they funded my driver’s ed classes were for the exact reason that if I took them, I’d sooner be able to take on yet another helping of duties they were too lazy to fulfill.

There’s one particular moment I can remember from this age and that same moment could also be regarded as the catalyst that would set off a series of events for the next 11 years to come.

It was the end of the school year and summer vacation was right around the corner. I was a sophomore at the time, and the prospect of being a junior the next year excited me. 

To kick off the start of summer, Melody Hanes was throwing a pool party at her house. Everyone knew she was filthy rich because of a dead grandpa or some other, not to mention, she was also in student government so she had just as big of a role in school as her grandpa’s death did in making the Hanes family wealthy. 

Though I never knew her personally, I did have third period chemistry with her for the entire year, and I sat right in front of her for pretty much the entirety of second semester. She must’ve only addressed me a handful of times, but she still invited me to her party anyway. Proximity, I had to admit, did play a part in that though because if I sat just a seat farther away, then I wouldn’t have been. 

I came home that day, thrilled to tell my mother about my invitation. It would’ve been my first party that wasn’t a distant relative’s birthday celebration or a childish sleepover in elementary. It was my first real high school party, and for once, I thought - maybe I’d finally get the quintessential ‘high school experience.’

But of course, I never did. 

As soon as I got home, I parked my car in the driveway, got the mail, and came inside the house to see my mother sitting on the couch watching TV, as per usual. While I was telling her about my invitation, she didn’t bother to lower the volume or even look away from the screen to give me her undivided attention, and when she did look away, it was only to take the mail from my hands. 

“Your sister’s science fair is on that day, and you have to take her because I’ll be working from 1 to 7.” My mother never once looked up from the mail she was sorting through to address me. And her words, while incredibly monotone, were also spoken with such finality, like what she said was the last she ever wanted to speak on the topic. No room for discussion. 

I’m not still losing sleep over it, but at the time, it felt like for once, I could actually just be a teenager and be young and reckless like everyone else, but that it was just taken from me. I never got the chance to be a kid again.

With the exception of Emilia’s science fair.

I knew my father wouldn’t be there, and obviously my mother wouldn’t, so I stayed to watch her presentation and to walk around the rest of the time. She deserved someone in her corner, and that someone was me. Even if no one was in mine. 

As I serpentined through the cafeteria, a bittersweet feeling came upon me. From paper mâché volcanoes to potato batteries, I observed a childlike sense of wonder that I hadn’t felt for years. 

Here, I was surrounded by children who got to be just children. They got to occupy themselves with trivial matters, like how gardens grow or if video games actually do rot your brain. 

Their problems had solutions and their questions had answers, and it almost made me wish that I could revert back to a time where life was that easy, but I couldn’t because it never was … not for me. 

So to sum it up, it was precious and heartbreaking all at the same time. 

While browsing the fair, I stumbled upon a man that didn’t quite seem to fit in, and maybe it was my own unfitting appearance that made me recognize his. He could’ve very well been the brother of one of these children, but something about the way he was dressed and the way he carried himself made me highly doubt that. 

He couldn’t have been a parent either, for he was not too far off from my own age, and if he was a parent of one of these eighth graders, that would have to mean that he had a kid when he was in kindergarten. So for all intents and purposes, he wasn’t someone’s brother or someone’s father. Who he actually was - I didn’t know, but I was determined to find out.

After that first observance, I spotted him a couple more times, but it wasn’t until we were looking at the same project that we actually spoke. 

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

The sudden sound of his voice alarmed me, but only because it seemingly came out of nowhere. Generally, before someone speaks to you, you notice signals that they’re about to, which helps you prepare for conversation. Whether it’s nervous twitches, a look in your direction, maybe even a small acknowledging smile, you’ll recognize they want to or plan to talk to you, but none of those signs were given to me. Even when I turned my head to give him my attention, he was still fixated on the project in front of us. 

“Yeah, it really is,” I politely agreed. I awkwardly looked around the room as if I’d find an answer as to what to say next because I did want to keep talking to him, but the longer I stayed silent, the more I fear he’d begin to think I didn’t want to. With nothing else to ask but the question that had been bothering me since I first laid eyes on him, I simply went for it. 

“So, who are you here for?”

For the first time, he turned his head to the side to look right at me. With a quizzical expression, he responded. “Oh, no one. I’m just a judge here.” 

It was my turn to possess a quizzical expression. His statement wouldn’t have been weird, except for the part where any judge I’d seen or talked to were all well into their forties or fifties. 

“Aren’t you kinda young to be a judge? You’re, like, what? Seventeen, eighteen?

“Nineteen actually. But I regularly come to judge the Summer Science Fairs here since I went to this middle school eleven years ago.” 

Again, I would’ve taken his word for it, but the math didn’t make sense. “You were in middle school at eight years old?” 

“Mhm. I ended up graduating high school at twelve.” He said it so nonchalantly, but for how big of a feat it was, I thought it would’ve deserved a more prideful tone, yet he still maintained such a cavalier one. Did he not think himself to be impressive? 

“Jeez, you must be really smart.” 

He shoved his hands in his pockets, which made me notice that he wasn’t carrying a clipboard like the other judges, which was probably another reason why I didn’t take him for one. How would he be able to remember the projects that he was considering for awards? He’d have to have some magical memory for that.

Before answering, he began to walk away, but nonetheless he continued addressing me, so I followed him where he went. 

“Mmm not necessarily. My IQ isn’t high enough to suggest I’m a provable genius yet, but I do have an eidetic memory and I can currently read 16,000 words per minute, which definitely helps. I hope to be able to read 20,000 words per minute in the future.” 

Despite answering my question, he only left me with many more. 

“What is your IQ right now?”

“131.”

My eyes widened. Even I, with my limited knowledge on intelligence quotients knew that was high, especially for someone as young as he was. 

“So what IQ score do you have to have in order to be considered a genius?”

I couldn’t help but notice how he barely took anytime to think before answering me. It’s like his brain just knew everything, right then and there. 

“A score of over 140 is considered a genius or near genius.”

“Wow, so you’re almost a genius then?”

“Almost, but not quite. If I receive diverse stimulation at a consistent rate for the next few years, I predict that I’ll have an IQ of 180 or higher by the time I’m in my early twenties.”

You would think he would leave me speechless, but I still went on to ask him about what an eidetic memory was, and he explained to me that he could remember things exceedingly well, but that it was not the same thing as a photographic memory. He made that distinction very clear to me. 

Our conversation droned on for the rest of the fair as we continued to circle the cafeteria. I can’t count how many times we lapped around the same projects, but we never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Once those first few seconds after meeting him, when I didn’t know what to say, passed, I never again felt a sense of not knowing. We could talk for hours and hours, and it wouldn’t matter. I would never get bored. 

How could I? When I was with him, it felt like the rest of the world just faded away. Our discourse flowed so easily, no pressure, no awkward silence. It was just me and him, and if you ask me, that’s quite the opposite of boring. 

That was the first and final time I ever truly felt like a kid. Just like the ones in the science fair. Not a care in the world except for my morbid curiosity of the marvel that was him.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and I inevitably found myself being ripped out of my trance when I felt an aggressive tug on my sweater.

“We can go now.” Emilia interrupted. 

I hadn’t even noticed that a majority of the poster boards were taken down and that an even larger majority of the people were long gone, too. I got so lost in the conversation that I didn’t realize we were one of the last people still there. 

Emilia’s eagerness to leave was apparent as she pulled me away from my interesting conversationalist. 

“I had a nice time talking to you!” I called out to him, walking backwards to lengthen the period of time I could keep looking at him. 

“Likewise.”

I turned around fully just before I finally realized something. “Hey!” I yelled across the distance. “I never got your name!” 

He bashfully smiled and looked down at his feet briefly. “It’s Spencer! Spencer Reid!” 

I stood there for a moment, silently processing his name. 

“What’s yours?” He yelled back. 

I chuckled mischievously. “I guess you’ll have to find out next time.” My ambiguity puzzled him and intrigued him all at the same time. 

“Next time?” 

With the intentions of leaving him without a true answer, I simply turned on my heels and started walking away. 

“Bye, Spencer!”

Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, I knew after that first day, he could never forget me. 

- Present Time -

By the time I made it back to the truck, people were already lining up to order. 

“Get over here!” Emilia squealed excitedly from the window, her hand rapidly waving me over as if it’d suddenly increase my speed. I ran back as fast as I could in a dress and heels and climbed into the truck, mirroring my sister’s zeal. 

When I stepped in, Emilia took one glance at me and furrowed her brows. “Where’d you get the jacket?” 

Had she not mentioned it, I would not have remembered the foreign fabric that wrapped around my shoulders. 

“Oh, shoot!” I palmed my forehead after the realization dawned on me. I should’ve noticed sooner that I still had it on, but honestly, it didn’t feel unusual or out of place. It was comfortable and familiar, like it was meant to be there that entire time.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you, but do you think you can handle this alone for just a second? I have to return this to a friend.” I asked while slipping off the coat to ready myself to leave, even in the event that Emilia said she wouldn’t let me go. Luckily though, she understood it was urgent. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. Just hurry back.” 

I extended my head to look out just past the side of the truck to look for Spencer while still being concealed within the vehicle. Now that there were more people here, I wasn’t exactly sure I should be caught mingling with the attendees, so instead, I decided to search for him from the truck, rather than wandering around the party, giving the impression to the people that hired us that I wasn’t doing my job and was just here to socialize. 

Luckily, there was something about my attachment to Spencer that was supernatural. I had this metaphysical ability to spot him even in a crowded place. I could find him anywhere. But whether that was a blessing or a curse was to be determined because right as my paranormal power kicked in, I found him. And there he was - standing next to another girl, a proximity much too close and a smile much too big to be anything less than flirtatious.

I paused to recall the image I had of myself earlier, when I floated up and out of my own body. I looked just like her - an oversized grin combined with lovesick eyes. 

But that’s not the worst part. 

The worst part was he was returning just the same look of attraction to her. 

“Um, actually,” I re-entered the truck completely, tossing the jacket aside haphazardly. “I’ll just return it later.” 

“You sure? You can go. I’ve got things covered right now.” She said between multitasking at a rate that even I, a very-much-not-pregnant-woman, could manage. 

All I could mutter back without giving away the sharp ache in my heart was, “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

_ _ _

After hours and hours of non-stop working, the night, at last, was coming to a close. The large crowd had sized down considerably, until I could no longer hear the sound of a thousand voices meshing. All the decorations were already coming down by the time Emilia and I finished packing up the truck. Without the hectic energy to cause adrenaline to course through my veins, it should’ve been peaceful, yet my heart was not at peace. 

I couldn’t shake the gut-wrenching feeling of seeing Spencer with that girl, but that wasn’t really why I was upset. It was more about the fact that I’d actually believed for a second that I had any chance with him. I should’ve known he wasn’t single, and the fact that I let myself swoon over him again angered me all the more. If I ever had a chance with Spencer, the time to act on it was long gone.

Now, I had to live with that. 

“You sure you wanna stay here alone? I’ll come with you if you want me to.” 

Emilia’s question was referring to my proposal to stay in D.C for the night while she drove home. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but I realized I couldn’t handle being in another suffocating car ride with Emilia. It had nothing to do with her - just that I needed alone time to process everything by myself. If I knew my sister as well as I thought I did, I knew she would’ve sensed something was wrong and tried to coax me into talking about it, which I was not in the mood to do. Plus, traveling for so long made me nauseous just thinking about it. Although, I didn’t have a plan, I knew that I just wanted to hail a cab and find a hotel somewhere here for the night. 

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. Call me when you get home.” I tapped on the back of the truck twice to let her know she was good to drive away, and I felt the car lurch forward per my request. When the truck finally did move, out from behind it appeared the tall figure of none other than Spencer. 

I was surprised, but only for a second, when that surprise turned into pain once more. Playing it cool so my afflictions wouldn’t be suspected, I nonchalantly stated, “Here’s your jacket, by the way. Sorry, I forgot to give it back to you earlier.”

I extended my arm far enough so that we’d still have a great distance between us when he went to grab it, but sure enough, my actions were all for naught when he not only refused to remove his hands from his pockets to take it but also walked two steps closer to me than he needed to be. I looked like an idiot just standing there with my arm so outstretched, only for him to not grab it and to let it simply press against his stomach as a complete avoidance of getting it back. 

“You were supposed to keep it. That’s why I didn’t ask for it back.” He curtly replied, finishing his statements with a cheeky grin. However, I wasn’t in the mood to return it. I simply stood there and shook the jacket in my hand to emphasize its presence. 

“Take it. Please.” My voice was full of contradictions. I tried to be assertive with my command, and yet my plead only softened the order and showed a defeat I wasn’t even aware of until I heard how sad it sounded. “I don’t want it, Spencer.” 

He no doubt saw the shift in my demeanor but still wouldn’t pacify me by taking the jacket. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” His voice got quieter, as if speaking any louder would shatter me in this fragile state of being. 

“Nothing, I’m just tired and I want to go home.” This wasn’t a complete lie. I was exhausted from working for hours and hours on my feet with no breaks in between, but it wasn’t exactly the full truth either. He could tell. 

“Just tell me what’s wrong.” He persisted. “Please.”

The only way I could describe what I happened next was like the vision of a boiling pot. Gradually, I was heating up until I finally got so overheated that I just boiled over and exploded. 

“What don’t you get, Spencer? I don’t want your jacket!” Fury consumed my tone. “And I don’t think your girlfriend would want that either.” 

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? What are you talking about? I don’t have a girlfriend!” His words were flying out of his mouth at 100 mph as he desperately trying to mend what couldn’t be fixed. 

“Don’t play dumb. I saw you with that blonde girl. How close you two were standing, the way you were looking at each other.” Just having to recount the interaction made the horrid memory come back vividly into the forefront of my thoughts, and it broke my heart all over again. I shut my eyes painfully as though it would turn off the image of them together, but this only allowed for Spencer to wrap his warm hands around my upper arms and pull me closer to him without my knowing. I flinched unconsciously at the sudden feeling of his touch, to which he instantly let go. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hands shook with remorse for letting them touch my body in a way that elicited that reaction. They hovered in the space between us, not knowing where to go that would suddenly make things okay. “But she’s no one, okay? She’s just a coworker.” 

I wanted to believe him. I quite possibly did believe him, but there was still a sharp pain in my chest. Call it intuition. 

“No, she’s not,” I shook my head. “She’s not ‘no one’... you love her.” 

Spencer came closer but still didn’t let himself touch me again out of fear that I might draw back even further. 

“Listen to me - whatever feelings I used to have for her are long gone. She’s married, (y/n). She has a kid. And none of that even matters because the way that I used to love her is nothing compared to the way that I-” 

“Don’t.” I held my hand up in protest. “Don’t say you love me.” 

His eyebrows knit together with dismay. “Why? Why not? It’s true. I love you. I always have.” 

With one big sigh, I finally resigned to my emotions. “Then why didn’t you ever do something about it?” 

Judging by the deflation of his shoulders and the far off look he got in his eyes, he knew exactly the moment I was talking about. 

Two days after Emilia’s science fair, I drove to the library to pick up books I needed for my summer homework. I was already on my way out when I just happened to glance to my side, noticing a lone figure sitting at the bus stop. I didn’t think anything of it, but when I looked back, I partially recognized him. I shaded my eyes from the sun and squinted harder to confirm my suspicions. 

“Spencer?” I wondered out loud.

The figure’s head turned around, narrowed their eyes, and waved. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to me with a precious little jog-walk. Although we had only met once before, we still embraced each other like lifelong friends. 

“Do I finally get to know your name now?” He jokingly inquired after pulling away. 

It completely slipped my mind that I’d denied him the knowledge of my name, but for my own satisfaction, I wouldn’t let him get off that easily. 

“Do you have any guesses of it could be?” 

He pouted childishly. “Are you kidding? In a population of 350 million people, there would be about 4.4 million names. But if every country on Earth had the same nominative diversity we in the US have, that would suggest about 750 million unique names exist.”

I must admit it was fun watching him melt into a flustered mess of facts, but I was growing just as impatient as him. “Come on, just guess. You might be right.”

He rolled his eyes but indulged me willingly anyway. “Okay ... um ... Catherine.” 

“Nope.”

“Nicole.”

“Nope.”

“Gertrude.” 

“Seriously?” I raised my eyebrows. He shrugged. “Nope.”

“Olive.” 

“Pretty,” I smiled, making his face light up, too. “But no.” His smile fell. 

“This is nearly impossible.” He sighed. 

“Nothing’s impossible.” My delivery wasn’t as cheesy as the line itself, so it touched us both in a way that made that silly phrase feel like it’d never been said before. With a visible passion reignited in him, he continued. 

“Francis.”

“Okay, maybe this is impossible.” 

My blunt joke brought us closer together, our heads almost knocking into one another’s as we clutched our stomachs and leaned forward to support our all-consuming laughter. When we finally calmed down, I finally confessed. 

“Okay, okay - it’s (y/n).” 

He stood there completely silent. There was no expression of his face that indicated he planned on speaking, so I elaborated. “It’s not as good as the name Spencer, I know I know -”

“I’ve never known anyone with that name before.” His hushed voice cut into mine so innocently. 

My cheeks heated from the slight compliment. “Well, now you do. And don’t you forget it.” I teased. With nothing further to say, I brushed past him to start walking away, when unconsciously, I spun my keys around my index finger and heard the familiar jingle of the metal, reminding me of something. 

“Hey, Spencer?” I turned on my heels. “Can I give you a ride home?”

And so began our routine for the entire summer. I would bring my summer homework to the library, and Spencer would help me understand it, or even complete it, and then I’d give him a ride home. We’d go to the park and read, or we’d go to the movies, or we’d hang out at a diner. And each time, I’d drop him off. 

The more time we spent together, the more I learned about him and his life. He told me about his mom, his dad - everything. I did just the same. I told him about my mom, my dad, my siblings - everything. 

Perhaps we enjoyed spending so much time together because it was a sweet escape from our houses that weren’t homes. But every time we did hang out, we just got closer and closer, and by the end of the summer, I knew my feelings perfectly clear. 

I love Spencer. 

If missing that pool party at Melody Hanes was what it took to find the absolute love of my life, then what a small price to pay it was. I wouldn’t have traded a million pool parties for that one chance encounter with Spencer at the science fair. 

One day, we were pulling into his driveway after having a picnic at the country club, and I’d just let him out of the car, when unconsciously, I said, “Bye, Spence! Love you!” 

He caught the words faster than I did. He looked like a deer in headlights, and it took me at least two seconds more to figure out why. That entire day I’d been thinking about saying it, but by the end, I decided it’d be better not to, and yet, it just came out anyway.

“You love me?” 

There were two ways I could’ve answered. The first was to deny it and say that I only meant that I loved him like a friend. The second was to be brave and validate my unintentional confession. 

In the heat of the moment, I chose the latter. 

“Yes.” I nodded, smiling from my own courage. You only live once right?

In a cruel twist of fate, Spencer never tried to speak, and instead, ran to his front door. 

“Spencer!” I yelled. “What are you-” 

He gave me one last look over his shoulder before he opened the door and closed it right behind him. That was the last I ever saw him. 

I learned, that day, that you do only live once. 

But you can die over and over again.

From that point on, he’s lived in my mind as the one that never was. 

Regret and shame manifested on Spencer’s face. “I never wanted to hurt you.” He dejectedly began. “But I was young and-and dumb and just ... so scared. God, I was so scared.” He finally looked up, if for no other reason than to gauge my reaction. “I liked you so much, but I, I just couldn’t open myself up to the possibility of being hurt by another person I loved.”

Much like my own life, Spencer’s was riddled with traumatic experiences. Except rather than being expected to take care of younger siblings, he had to take care of his mom. And having to be a parent to your own parent? That’s something I would never wish upon anyone else. 

“I ... I get it.” It was a sweet surrender, my words. After years of pent-up aggression borne from humiliation, rejection, and deep sadness, I could finally understand. “But as selfish as it sounds, I wish your past hurt hadn’t gotten in the way of our potential happiness.” 

He took each of my hands in his, encasing them with palms of warmth. “Then don’t let the same thing happen right now. Don’t let the stupid, broken teenager I was cloud your judgement of the man I am now. Let me prove to you that I’ve changed.” 

I stood there silently, an eerie parallel to how Spencer reacted to my confession eleven years ago. 

“When I saw you, it felt like a second chance. A second chance to do what I was too afraid to do back then. And I couldn’t let myself make the same mistake twice.” His eyes were piercing through my soul. Every word plucked at my heartstrings, until I could no longer keep up with the symphony they were playing. 

There was the slightest hesitation behind it, but I did inch forward. And in no time at all, Spencer saw the movement and made his own. 

His hands released mine and shot straight for my cheeks to cup them gently, while kissing me firmly. He wasn’t the same shy boy he was, and this kiss was only proof of that. The way his lips were moving so fervently made me weak at the knees. He was so desperate and needy, like even with our lips touching, he still wasn’t close enough to me. Unleashed upon me was years of yearning wrapped in prominent lust. 

“I love you.” He blurted clumsily on my lips. I didn’t return the sentiment, but that wasn’t why he said it. He wanted to say it so I’d know, not so that I’d say it back. 

“You should know,” I muttered between kisses. “I’m not leaving D.C. until tomorrow morning.” 

The biggest smirk creeped onto his face. Bastard. 

Once we’d exhausted all the things we could possibly do in public, we ran to the nearest cab we could find and exhausted all the things we could do in that, too.

It was already past midnight when we arrived at Spencer’s apartment, and though we should’ve been quiet so as not to disturb the neighbors, we were still breaking out into a fit of giggles like a bunch of teenagers sneaking around as we ran up the stairs. We hadn’t even made it past the doormat, before he seized my hips in his hands and spun me back towards him. Forcefully, he pressed me against the door while simultaneously unlocking it. That shut me up real good, lemme tell you. 

As soon as we crossed the threshold, he gave me a reprieve when he held me closer so as to stop pinning me against the door. In an effort to do the impossible, we stumbled through his apartment in a frenzy trying to undress each other while maintaining our bodily contact. With one giant tug of the zipper on my back, my dress fell to the ground. To his atonement, he left me in just a thong. Whereas he was much too overdressed in my opinion. 

No sooner did I gracelessly unbutton his shirt than we ran into a plant against the wall. Our smiles practically ruined the kiss at the sound of the crash, but it remained nonetheless. I knew I was in for something, when Spencer paused to wait for me to unbuckle his belt. That was the first time we ever really stopped in place, but just as I anticipated, I was in for it. 

When I finally freed his waist of the garment, he just as quickly placed his hand on the back of my thigh, and in one swift motion, hoisted me into the air high enough to allow my legs to wrap around his waist. My arms were loose around his neck and the feeling of his warm hands touching my bare skin sent a chill down my spine. 

Due to Spencer’s essential hand placement on my body, I had to be the one to fumble with his bedroom’s doorknob until it finally gave way. Once more, we staggered through his room before he let our lips break apart to lightly toss me onto the bed. I giggled at the squeak of the bed, driving him visibly crazy. 

He hastily unzipped his own dress pants, while I propped myself up on my elbows. When he met me on the bed, he hovered over me to the point of having to lay back down again just to see him clearly. He felt too far away so I drew him nearer by lacing my hand through his soft curls. I twirled one around my finger, which must’ve been too merciful for him to handle. 

He placed his hand on the back of mine and slid it down to his cheek. He held my hand there for a moment, leaning into the skin of my palm prior to placing a chaste kiss on it. 

He didn’t need to say it again for me to know what he was thinking. 

I love you.

The anticipation was killing me and in the most impatient manner, I pulled him down to my level, mimicking his similar habit of face-grabbing during a kiss. I knew his hands would’ve flown to my face the way they did just minutes ago, but one was too preoccupied keeping himself up and the other was busy toying with the band of my thong. I shivered at the sensation of him slipping one finger under the material and letting it glide over my tender skin right above my heat. 

“Spencer,” I mumbled in a kiss to bring his attention back to me. Although I was certainly interested to know the hidden talents of Spencer Reid and his fingers, I was restless. I’d been waiting years for this moment, and unlike most people, I didn’t want to wait another second. “I need you now.” 

He pulled his head back so he could get a full view of my face to examine my sincerity. He wanted to know if I was sure, and my eyes told him such. He nodded in acknowledgement with such speed that I was sure he was craving this as much as I was. 

Rather than looking at where our bodies were about to meet, I had to close my eyes so I could fully feel everything without any other sense taking that away from me. In a painfully slow manner, he lined himself up at my entrance. At first, he only lightly pushed in, and it was this slacken movement that made me cry out and grip his shoulders for stability.

He pushed further in until he was fully sheathed inside of me. There was a slight moment of regret for not letting him engage in foreplay before, but that quickly went away when the pain turned to pleasure. He gained more confidence in himself with each stroke, and I could feel it. The more powerfully he thrust, the more I felt myself tightening around him. The over simulation was a stark contrast from the stimulation I denied and so the sensation I was feeling was only heightened by the absence of it before. For that very reason, I knew I was already close. And maybe he knew it, too and just as sweet revenge, he decided to send me over the edge by pulling my leg over his shoulder to thrust into me a new angle. As I’m sure he predicted, I threw my head back as tears began to prick the corners of my eyes. He rode the ever exquisite border between pain and pleasure, and my tears were a manifestation of that. Not even a minute passed, before I tried to moan but pathetically failed, not even being able finish the pitiful wail without the both of us finishing together.

Our heavy panting synchronized and reverberated back to us while he slowed down his pace and pulled out. 

Perhaps in the heat of the moment, we lost all logic and reason, considering that even up till now, neither of us had realized that he didn’t use a condom. 

But what would eventually happen in the future as a result of this action, or inaction, would surely make us remember.

Spencer lowered himself down to kiss me breathlessly; strands of his hair clung to his forehead as sweat glimmered on both of us. Not until we were ready did we make our way to the bathroom so he could help clean me up. Once we returned, I gathered my clothes, but he made sure to grab my panties before I could even notice.

“Have you seen -“ I cut myself off when I saw what was dangling in his hands.

“Looking for this?” He teased.

All my energy had been spent on him that I couldn’t be bothered to fight for them back. 

“Keep ‘em.” I smirked, my hand reaching down to pick up his jacket off the floor and hold it up. “Consider it a fair trade.”

No arguments from him. 

Needless to say, I did end up finding a place to stay the night. Where and with whom you might ask? 

Well, you can probably figure that one out for yourself. 

_ _ _

I wish I could tell you I got a good night’s rest, and I could - it just wouldn’t be the truth. 

Spencer and I spent the rest of the night just talking. We filled each other in on nearly ever second of the past 11 years, and once again, I found myself reverting back to the teenager I was at the science fair. The entire world revolved around us as we spoke to each other effortlessly, like no time had passed. Even in the periods of silence, I felt comfortable. 

Spencer and I were lying on our sides facing one another when I felt compelled to profess that “I can’t talk this way with anyone. It’s just you.” 

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with a small smile on his lips. He didn’t need to say that he felt the same way because I already knew. His hand never left my face but instead made its descent down my jawline and stopped at my chin. He raised his thumb to reach my lower lip, letting the pad of his finger graze over the soft skin of my lip. 

It felt like he was tracing every detail of my body, running his eyes over every inch at least twice so as to fully commit everything to his memory. 

At last, the tension broke when he positioned his hand comfortably at the back of my neck, bowing his head forward to kiss me. This one was quite different than our first, for it was gentler and warmer. We weren’t forcing ourselves to make up for lost time. In fact, this kiss was saying, “We’ve got plenty of time.” 

Plenty of time indeed. Which we were happy to spend making love again. 

And I will be the first to admit that if our first round of unprotected sex didn’t solidify our future predicament, this time certainly did. 

Six Weeks Later ...

“Hello?” Clearly frustrated, Emilia waved her hand in front of my face to harness me back to earth. I hadn’t realized I zoned out until she scoffed at me. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No, sorry. Could you repeat it one more time?” 

She set down the papers in front of her and sighed unhappily. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been so distant lately.” 

It hurt to hear, even though it was the truth. I wasn’t intentionally being despondent, but it’s hard to be present when there’s so much occupying your mind, and there was one thing in particular that was keeping me up late at night recently. 

My period has always been irregular. For as long as I’ve had it, I’ve always missed a few weeks, then it would become consistent, then it would be sporadic again. In fact, there was one year where I only had four periods total. So it didn’t strike me as odd when I realized three days ago that my last period was about seven weeks ago. 

What did strike me as odd was the other symptoms I was experiencing. Menstruation cycles are known to closely mimic the symptoms of pregnancy, but with the knowledge that my period wasn’t coming, it was disconcerting to me that I was suffering the discomforts without the actual period itself. 

To me, there was only one clear explanation for this anomaly. 

I was pregnant. 

Earlier in the day, I bought a pregnancy test and was late to work because of it. If Emilia hadn’t been suspicious of my behavior before, showing up late only made her suspicion greater. 

I didn’t know when I’d take it, probably at home after work, but the anticipation was eating away at me. I would pace around the truck until Emilia finally told me to stop because the vehicle wouldn’t stop swaying with my every movement. I was biting my nails and chewing on each little piece that grew back just to bite it back down to the nub. My hands couldn’t stop shaking, my breathing wouldn’t slow down. I was a hysterical mess. 

I didn’t tell Spencer any of my concerns, of course, but being as perceptive as he is, he noticed my strange mannerisms despite my best efforts to hide them. 

“Your breathing just got faster. Are you feeling okay?” He paused the movie we were watching to check in on me one time. It should be known that the scene that caused my heavier breathing was a scene of a woman finding out she was pregnant and being absolutely devastated. I quickly brushed it off as just being too warm, to which he turned on his air conditioning. Luckily for me, he didn’t make the connection. 

And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell Spencer - I really did - but why should I make a fuss about something if there ended up being nothing to worry about? That would just be extra stress, and the last thing a new, blossoming relationship needs is additional strain. 

So without Spencer, I had to opt for the next best thing - my sister.

I’d reached my wits end, and I couldn’t keep up the act any longer. I was walking on eggshells with practically everyone I knew, and I’d sooner go crazy if I didn’t tell someone what I was really feeling. So in response to her question, I finally told the truth. 

“I think I might be pregnant.” 

You can imagine the shock on my sister’s face. Emilia’s jaw became one with the floor as her eyes widened so big I thought they would pop out of her head. 

“You’re pregnant?” Already her eyes were welling up with tears of joy. 

“I don’t know yet.” I put my arms around her to keep her calm and stable while the emotions began overpowering her. I wanted it to serve as a reminder to not get her hopes up, otherwise she’d get mine up, too. 

“Well, have you taken a test?” 

I reached for my purse behind her and rummaged through it until I finally retrieved the box. Holding it up, I reluctantly suggested, “I thought maybe you could be there for me when I did?” 

She squealed with joyful elation, practically shattering the window pane with the high pitch of her voice. On top of that, she was jumping up and down with elegant grace that I had to wonder how her pregnant body could even manage to do such a thing. 

“Of course, I will! Come, come, let’s go.” 

We hopped off the truck and to the nearest restroom, which admittedly wasn’t the nicest of places, nor was the place I ever imagined as a child that I’d be finding out I was pregnant in, but it had to do for now. 

When I first came out of the stall, I set the test face down on the sink, so that we wouldn’t see it until it was ready. Emilia set a timer for 10 minutes, but in the meantime, all we could do was wait. Neither of us could stay still; Emilia bounced up and down, rubbing her belly while facilitating some sort of breathing exercise. Meanwhile, I kept tapping my foot impatiently. 

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Emilia’s alarm scared the shit out of me, and we both were startled by the blaring sound. It was so jarring, but even that wouldn’t compare to the fear I felt when I realized it was finally time. 

“Do you wanna look or should I?” She asked. 

“You look.” I said at first. But when she lunged forward to take it, I did, too. “No wait, I should.” Then another moment of hesitation. “No, you do it. I can’t.” 

I held my hands over my mouth while I watched her carefully lift the test off the sink, maneuvering it in such a way that only she would see the results. I watched her expression closely for any sign of a reaction, but she was stoic as can be. I couldn’t tell if she was disappointed, happy - nothing. Complete and total poker face. 

“Come on, Emilia! What does it say?” I blurted anxiously.

“Well, first, what do you want it to say?” 

That was a question I hadn’t considered. I was so busy worrying about what I didn’t know, to pause and think about what I wanted to find out. On the one hand, I’d be ecstatic if the test confirmed that I was pregnant. I’d jump for joy because that was what I always wanted, right? But on the other hand, if it said I wasn’t pregnant, then I’d be sort of sad because I got so close to that lifelong dream. But after that, I’d probably just be relieved to have dodged a bullet.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I don’t know-”

“Don’t think. Just tell me. What do you want it to say?” 

Without missing a beat, I replied, “Positive.” My sister and I alike were stunned by my answer. “Yeah,” I nodded slowly. “Positive. I want it to say positive.” I repeated, to cement my earnest desire. 

Emilia’s facade melted away as she began to shake her head. “I’m sorry, (y/n). There’s only one line.” 

We both knew what that meant, even if she didn’t explicitly say it. I sighed dejectedly, which was a surprise to even myself. I didn’t expect to be this disappointed, and yet I was. The knot it my stomach worked itself free, and where that pit used to be was just emptiness. My heart sunk and steadied itself, and my breathing resumed its normal pace. 

“Well,” I bit my lip. “I guess that’s that.” 

Emilia instantly drew nearer to pull me in for a hug, one I was not ready to accept but welcomed anyway. “I’m sorry, (y/n). But I mean, sometimes tests just come out with false negatives.” With her face still buried in the crook of my neck in our hug, she mumbled, “Not this one, though. This one’s positive.” 

Immediately, I retreated from our hug and pulled her in front of my view. The sneaky girl had a huge grin that took up 99% of her face. 

“You’re pregnant!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, shaking my body violently. We embraced each other in another hug while simultaneously jumping up and down. “I just wanted to trick you so you would know how you really feel. Now you know!” 

And I did know. I did know that I wanted this baby and that I was glad it even existed. 

Not long after our mini-celebration did I start to come down from the high of my euphoria. A certain realization dawned on me like a cloud of gray hanging above my head to rain on my parade. 

What about Spencer?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

PART 2 HERE!

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[plaidbooks]

Dark Secrets: Secrets Exposed

A/N: Here’s chapter two of vampire!Sonny, and boy oh boy is it a doozy. I have another one planned, but it won’t be for the bingo. Also, the reason this is jumping around so much is because it’s an arc; Karen and I can come back at any time and fill in gaps with short chapters/drabbles.

Anyways, this covers the Monster square in @adarafaelbarba​ moodboard bingo!

Tags: smut, rough p in v sex, blood (is it blood play if he drinks it?), biting kink, marking/bruising skin, squirting

Words: 3105

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @berniesilvas​​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​

Three months. They were the longest three months of your life. Sonny never contacted you, and you worried about him every day. Was he compromised? Hurt? Dead? You had no way of knowing, and it kept you up at night. He had to be okay, right? You’d feel if he was hurt, you knew it in your heart.

You were also upset with yourself; the last conversation you had with him was…hard. Why didn’t you just wait a day, tell him how much you loved him instead? And now, what if it was too late to tell him?

There was a knock at your door, and you braced yourself for the worst. But when you opened it to find Sonny standing there, a sheepish smile on his face, you felt such relief that you cried out before launching against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close.

“Oh my god, I’ve missed you so much! I’m so happy you’re okay,” you exclaimed, pulling him to you in a deep kiss.

He kissed you back just as fiercely, walking you backwards into your place. “I’ve missed you,” he muttered against your lips before kissing you again.

You wrapped a leg around his waist, scratching at his back, and he groaned. You needed him, now more than ever. You wanted him so desperately. But still, he hesitated.

“W—wait a moment, doll,” he said, panting. You gently released him, looking up into his face. His eyes were blown with lust, a mirror to your own. “We need to talk.”

You gave him a sultry smile, leaning against him. “It can wait,” you replied before kissing his neck.

Sonny groaned again, melting under your mouth as you continued to kiss and suck his neck. “N—no; stop, please.” You stopped your assault, leaning back to look at him. “It can’t wait, I’m sorry, doll.”

You moved to sit on your couch, and Sonny stood in front of you, determined to stay slightly away from you. “What is it, Sonny?”

“First of all, what I’m about to tell you is illegal; we’ll have to fill out all the paperwork later. Second, I’m going to talk, and I want you to listen; it’s a lot of information to get through,” he said.

You weren’t sure what to make of his demeanor “Is everything okay? You’re scaring me, babe.”

“It will be, just…just listen.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I lied about the UC; I wasn’t undercover the past three months.”

“What?!” you yelled in confusion; why did he lie? What was he hiding?”

“Please, let me explain; I spent the past three months in a cabin upstate, alone. I…I wanted to sit and really think about our relationship, about what I feel for you. And I—I love you. I love you so much more than I could ever say. You’re the one I want to spend eternity with. I’ve—I’ve never felt like this with anyone before; sure, I’ve had past lovers over the years, but nothing compared to you. I love you, everything about you, your spirit, your intellect, all of it,” he concluded.

You blinked at him. Was he…proposing? After lying about where he was? “Why lie, Sonny? I would’ve understood if you needed some time.”

“Because I—I wanted to make sure I was alone; I’m not done.” He took yet another deep breath, his piercing blue eyes locking to yours. “I wanted to make sure I could tell you this, without the fear of a…scene.” You rose an eyebrow, and he softly said, “I’m not human, doll. I’m a vampire.”

You blinked at him. “A vampire? Like Dracula or—”

“Oh, Dracula is a bunch of crap; a fictional story written by a human. I’m a real vampire; I have fangs, drink blood to survive, live forever unless I’m killed—”

“I don’t see how this is different than Dracula yet,” you replied, stifling a chuckle.

Sonny’s eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “I’m being serious, here! It’s also highly illegal for me to tell you all of this, since you’re a human.”

“Uh huh. A vampire, you say…” you trailed off, thinking. It did make a lot of sense, with how he didn’t eat or drink often, and why he tended to stay out of the sun. But he still went out and about in daylight, and besides, monsters weren’t real.

He rolled his eyes, then opened his mouth. Your eyes widened as his incisors seemed to grow an extra inch, becoming fangs.

“H—how’d you do that?” you whispered in shock.

Slowly, they retracted to normal size again. “I need them to puncture skin to get to the veins,” he explained.

“You really are a vampire, aren’t you?” you asked, voice hushed.

He nodded. “I am; all those manuscripts I’ve ‘found’? I was around when they were written; that’s why I know history so well, doll. It’s also why I haven’t wanted to move in. I didn’t want you to see that I don’t really eat, at least not human food…. It’s also why we haven’t had sex.”

“Because we’d make some sort of abomination if I got pregnant?” you joked.

Sonny’s eyes widened. “What? No, I can’t have biological kids. But I—I can’t get, um…hard, not unless I feed…. Need the blood and all….”

“Oh…oh! So, it’s not me?” Somehow, this was a relief.

He chuckled in disbelief. “No, it’s not you. I told you, I’ve wanted to have sex with you. I just didn’t think I could go ‘let me feed really quick then come back’.”

You laughed, and he looked at you like you’ve gone crazy. “Well, if that’s all, come here.” You patted the couch next to you, and he seemed skeptical, like this was somehow a trick.

Sonny came around the table to sit on the couch next to you, but he still left space between you, as if touching you would hurt you in some way. “You’re taking this surprisingly well,” he muttered.

You shifted to face him, and you reached out for his hand. He didn’t pull away when you took one of his hands between both of yours. “Dominick, I love you, no matter what you are, human or vampire, or whatever. I only love you.”

“But—but I’m a monster—”

“No, you’re not. You’re my sweet, loving boyfriend. I know you, Dom; I know your morals, your heart. We can talk about what all this means for us tomorrow. Right now, I want you,” you replied.

His eyes widened, and you were sure he’d be blushing if he could—could vampires blush? Gently, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. He seemed stunned, frozen in shock, and you pulled away. His eyes searched your face for a moment before he was on you, lips colliding with yours almost painfully.

The kiss quickly deepened, his tongue easily forcing its way into your mouth. He pushed you down on the couch, kissing you for so long, you thought your lungs would surely shrivel up. Then he was picking you up, carrying you as if your weighed nothing, heading for your bedroom.

Sonny gently laid you on the bed before he ripped—literally tore—his shirt off himself. He climbed over your body, his lips coming back to yours. You scratched at his back, grinding against his thigh as his lips dominated yours.

His mouth trailed down your jaw, nipping as he went. “Pl—please tell me you’ve fed recently. I n—need you, Dominick,” you whined.

“I did, but not enough for this—I never thought this would go so well,” he replied, his voice husky. He pressed a kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. His normally blue eyes were a deep red, and it somehow made him more attractive. “If you want, I can go down on you, then go feed really quick and come back. It’ll be a few hours though; I have to leave the city to find animals.”

You moaned in frustration before a thought struck you. “Feed from me.”

“What?!” Sonny asked in shock.

You smiled softly at him. “Use me, Dominick. Drink from me.”

His eyes were almost completely black with his arousal, the red reduced to a bright ring on the outside of his pupils, and he swallowed hard. “I—I don’t think that’s safe, doll.”

“I trust you, it’ll be fine. Please, babe; I need you inside me, I want you, please.”

His breathing was coming in sharper as his arousal was taking over his rational mind. “And if I can’t stop? If I hurt you?”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take. Because I love you, and you love me; I don’t believe you’ll hurt me. It’s okay, Dom.” To make your point, you propped yourself on an elbow, sweeping your hair off one side of your neck before laying back down.

Sonny didn’t notice that he leaned closer to you, only realized when his nose made contact with your throat. He sniffed at you, smelling your sweet blood just under your skin, and his mouth watered.

“That’s it, Dominick. Bite me, drink your fill,” you cooed.

“St—stop tempting me,” he groaned, voice full of arousal. He pressed kisses to your throat before he moved to nuzzle the crook of your neck. His tongue darted out, tasting your skin, and you sighed at the feeling.

“It’s fine; I give you permission. I trust you with my life,” you breathed.

Slowly, you reached up to grip his biceps, his arms caging your body. He sucked and kissed your neck, and you felt his lips move as his fangs grew. “Do you even know how hard it’s been to simply kiss your neck, when all I’ve wanted was to taste you?” he growled, his breath hot on your skin.

“Now’s your chance. Do it; drink.”

He grazed his teeth over your skin as he searched for your vein. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered before he sunk his fangs into you. You gasped in pain as he easily broke skin, your grip on his arms bruising a normal human. His fangs retracted, and he sucked at the incisions, drinking your blood. The magic in his saliva had you seeing stars; it was a mix of euphoria, pleasure, and pain all wrapped into one.

Sonny groaned the moment your blood touched his tongue. He had never tasted anything so delicious in his life. He could easily drink until your body was empty of blood…which is why he made sure to pay close attention to you, your heartbeat. But god, he could never get enough of you, your taste. He barely felt the blood entering his system; he was too distracted with the taste and with your heart. When your grip on his arms started to loosen, he used a great amount of restraint to detach from your neck.

He was panting as he leaned back, licking the blood from his lips. It was only then that he noticed how hard his cock was from just that small amount from you. It was true that he had fed recently, that he didn’t need much more, but he didn’t think that little would be enough.

You gave him a soft smile before you sat up, kissing him deeply. You could taste the coppery tang of blood on his tongue, but you didn’t care; you needed him, now. Sonny pushed you back down, then stood just long enough to undress the both of you before he was back on top of you.

“Are you sure—”

“Fuck me, Dominick, please,” you begged. He didn’t need to be told twice before he pushed into you fully. You moaned loudly at the feel of him inside you; his cock was long, curving to brush up against your g-spot perfectly.

“Ready for me, doll?” he asked softly, feeling your walls expand around him.

You gripped his shoulder, light-headed, though from the feel of him or the loss of blood, you weren’t quite sure. “I’ve been ready for you since the moment I met you, my love.”

His expression softened, and he kissed you deeply before he started to move. You could tell he was holding back, afraid to hurt you; he set a slow pace, thrusting deep into you. Your hands traveled down his back to cup his ass, pulling him deeper into you, and he grunted at the feeling.

“You—you feel so amazing. I love you, I love you so much,” he whispered before trailing his lips down to your throat. He sucked marks into you, and you gasped in pleasure; you had told him about your biting kink, something that you now found hilarious.

“S-same; feels so g—good. Fuck, Dom, move faster, please. You’re not going to hurt me,” you moaned.

He kissed your throat once more before he made his way to the two holes on the side of your neck, a drop of blood slowly dripping down your skin. His tongue flicked out, lapping at your blood, and the pace of his hips went up. He dipped his head down to the crook of your neck, kissing your injury, and you moaned again.

“D—Dominick—fuuuuck!—harder, please!” you gasped, trying to match his pace.

With a great force of will, he pulled his mouth from your neck, instead brushing your hair from the other side. He pressed his lips to your skin, kissing and sucking more marks into you.

You dragged one of your hands from behind him, wedging it between your bodies. You quickly found your clit, rubbing yourself as he fucked you into the mattress. Sonny opened his mouth, biting that side of your neck—without his fangs—and it was enough to send you over the edge. You cried out as you came, liquid gushing from you as pleasure washed through your body.

He propped himself up, looking at the mess you made, then smirked. Taking one of your legs, he threw it over his shoulder, sinking even deeper into you. You screamed his name in pleasure as he pounded into you.

“You got another one in ya, doll. Give it to me,” he growled. You brought your hand back to your clit, but he slapped it away, using his own fingers to rub you viciously. You squirmed as he assaulted your overstimulated clit, crying out at the feeling. You grabbed his wrist, but his arm was like stone; you couldn’t pull him away no matter what you did. You screamed as your orgasm crashed through you like a wave. But still, he didn’t stop.

“One more, doll. Be a good girl and cum for me again, I know you can,” Sonny cooed, his hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers were still playing with your clit, and you shuddered at the feeling. His hips hit yours so hard, you were slowly being pushed up the bed until his free hand gripped your hip, bring you down to meet him.

“Dom—Dominick—! Too much—gonna c—cum!” you warned. He doubled his efforts and you gasped as he pulled another orgasm from you. The hand that was rubbing you moved to your hips, and he jackhammered into you, chasing his release. His fingers gripped you hard enough to leave bruises, and you sure you wouldn’t be walking anytime soon.

He leaned down over you, the sound of skin slapping deafening in the room. And then he was groaning your name, his cock twitching as he exploded into you, filling you with his release. He kept thrusting, milking his balls into you, making you whimper. Then he collapsed on top of you, kissing your neck.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart. That was fantastic,” he muttered. It took him a moment, but he seemed to remember in that moment that you were human, and he climbed off you. “Holy shit, I’m sorry, are you okay? Was that too much?”

You chuckled, your body aching. But it was a good sore. “Fine, fine. Just a little tired—”

“Right, I’m sorry. It’s—it’s been a while. Here, let me clean you.” He stood, scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom. His hands were gentle as he washed you carefully, but you noticed his eyes going back to your neck often. Eventually, he had enough.

“I—I have to bandage that bite; the smell of your blood is intoxicating,” he explained before hurrying to your first aid kit.

While he was gone, you assessed the damage in the mirror. Your neck and throat looked like one huge bruise with how many marks he made. But the two puncture wounds on the side of your neck stood out like a sore thumb. All of this did nothing but turn you on more; you loved being bitten and marked by your partners.

“Was I your first?—human, that is. Uh, human blood?” you asked awkwardly.

Sonny came back quick enough with gauze and tape, and he set about cleaning and disinfecting the wound. “Um, no, you’re not. Definitely first time I’ve had fresh human blood in maybe a century. But you just…you taste like nothing I’ve ever had before. It’s, like I said, intoxicating. I swear I could drain you in an instant if I had a little less control.”

“Good thing you have control, then,” you said, chuckling softly.

He finished bandaging you and looked into your eyes. His were a brighter blue than you’d ever seen before, the red completely gone. “I had control this time, and even then, I should’ve been in full control. I shouldn’t have even bit you, should never have tasted your blood.”

“It’s fine—”

“It’s really not. Now, any time I’m hungry, I’m going to be thinking of you and how good you are. Which just means I’ll have to leave for my feedings earlier than before, to not wait until I’m so hungry,” he explained.

You rose a hand to cup his face, your thumb running over his soft skin. “I love you, Dominick, and I trust you. Now that I know what you are, you can do what you need to survive, without worrying about lying to me.”

He melted against you hand, closing his eyes briefly. “You’re right. Now that you know, I feel so much closer to you than before.”

“And tomorrow, we talk; I want to know everything about you, about your life and your world.”

He smiled softly. “Deal. Plus, we must start working on the paperwork; monsters are not allowed to reveal themselves to the human world. There’s a lot of hoops to jump through—”

“Tomorrow. Right now, I just want you to hold me as we sleep, okay?” you asked, hopeful.

His smile grew and he helped you stand. “I will hold you for as long as you want or need.”

[mcyt-amber-tftsmp]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐛 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 #𝟏

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Ranbob loves your giggle the most. He finds it adorable and cute and this sometimes causes him to blush a lot. He would do anything to make you giggle and that would mean either kissing you on the neck or tickling you.

You on the other hand, love his heterochromatic eyes. You find them unique and you just love to look at them.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Ranbob would most definitely want to have a family but he's scared that he will do something to hurt you or his child and his not really properly stable considering he has the enderstate but he has learned to control it but then again he's still a bit worried.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Ranbob cuddles you like you are a teddy bear. He will just hold you close to him and you would fit literally in his chest considering you are shorter than him while he's like 7'0. he would just pick you up and place you the way he wants to honestly. He's literally the big spoon and wouldn't the little spoon anytime soon because of his huge ego.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Ranbob would sometimes do picnic dates somewhere in Mizu or at beaches in the overworld considering he likes things simple and you do too. But if you consider hanging out with him while talking about history a date then yes that's like a date nearly everyday. You enjoy them a lot to be honest.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world...))

"You are my everything." That's one of the common things you would hear Ranbob tell you. He would say how you have helped him to become a better person and how you have helped him control his enderstate. Yet you even forgave him after he had killed your brother, Isaac knowing it wasn't him.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

When you first came to Mizu, Ranbob didn't really think much of you. But you came back everyday so he wouldn't be lonely in the underwater city and slowly and gradually he fell in love with you. How? One day he heard you giggle so cutely that he started to feel warm and fuzzy inside and could feel his face heat up.

You got to know that you were in love him after the many visits. You loved his personality and how passionately he talked about certain topics and you would eagerly listen to him talk about these things.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Ranbob would be always gentle and careful with you. If he did anything to hurt you, he would beat himself up for it both mentally and physically cause he never had the intention to hurt you at all. Being gentle with you is the first thing that comes up to his mind when it comes to you.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Ranbob is the type of guy to always hold your hand cause he doesn't like letting you go. he would put his palm over your hand while sitting close to each other or would always be holding one of your hands while he is kissing you or when you two are walking side by side.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Ranbob didn't really think much of you when he first met you. The only thing when he saw you that came to his mind was how similar you and Isaac looked. Of course you came after Isaac came here with his friends and was killed. Though he did like how you were invested with the history of the place and everything. He thought you were pretty okay in his book.

When you met him, you got a bit startled considering you have never seen an enderman hybrid like him and you found him interesting to say the least.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Oh ho ho! Very! If Ranbob sees someone flirting with you, he would glare at that person's direction or would just come up behind you while putting his arms around your waste and glare down at the person. He literally has a nertherite sword hung around his belt to prove that he wants you to leave or things well get messy.

When it comes to you, it's just you feeling slightly insecure about yourself and just keeping yourself at a distance.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

When it comes to kissing, Ranbob is the first one to do it cause you are shy to initiate the first kiss anyways. He would mostly smirk at you and give you a kiss on the lips. He's too bold so he makes the first move. His kisses are warm and passionate and pretty long. He would just kiss you most of the time to either tease you and make your flustered or just make you feel loved.

L = Love (Who says 'I love you' first?)

Ranbob would be the first one to do so. His ego is too big for you to say it first. He would say it one a daily basis after he said it for the first time. It would always make you smile and he liked that a lot.

M = Memory (What's their favourite memory together?)

One of Ranbob's favorite memory would be when you both were reading with each other in the library and how you fell asleep on his shoulder. He found it cute. You would have to say that it was your favorite memory too.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Ranbob doesn't really spoil you much or at all considering you don't want to be spoiled at all. Though on different occasions he does buy your favorite flowers and would buy you other things such as a necklace or something that reminds him of you.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Neutral colors remind you of Ranbob. Black, grey, white is just kind of his aesthetic. Yellow and purple would also remind you of him considering his eyes. When it comes to you Y/F/C (Your Favorite Color), it reminds him of you a lot.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Ranbob would call you 'sweetheart' most of the time cause that's his favorite pet name for you.

You would just call him Ran but sometimes Prince. You just think it suits him.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Ranbob would sometimes cook with you. You basically taught him how to cook properly and so now he just helps around with most of the things. He just likes doing this with you.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Ranbob would mostly stay inside during rainy days. Though one thing for sure is that water doesn't really have much effect on him like his ancestor Ranboo. He would sometimes go out in the rain but not all the time.

You on the other hand would just go out with no hesitation cause you love the rain to the point you dance. Ranbob would just smile when he sees you smiling and dancing happily in the rain.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

if Ranbob sees you upset, he would waste no time and hold you close while peppering your face with kisses and whisper sweet nothings to you. he hates seeing you upset and would do anything for you to make you feel better.

If you see him upset, you go over and hug him. That's what it takes to make him feel slightly better. You would stroke his hair since he likes it when you do that.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Both you and Ranbob love to talk about many things which include history but would talk about random things too.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

When you both cuddle it helps both you and Ranbob to relax. Considering physical touch is your love language along with words. It's mostly Ranbob who feel stressed about things. When it's you feeling stressed he would just cuddle the heck out of you and not let you go.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Ranbob is literally the dominant one in the relationship and he loves to show it off just to make you ticked off and annoyed by flirting with you which would result you in puffing up your cheeks in embarrassment which he finds adorable.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Ranbob has been thinking about marrying you after being together for a many months. He was really nervous in doing so but he built up the courage to do so. He did however made this a surprise by taking you on a picnic date at the beach as he made your favorite food. Later when it became late at night, he stood up and proposed to you in which you said 'yes' and he was practically feeling very happy when you accepted.

X = Xylophone (What's their song?)

Thinking Out Loud - Ed Sheeren. It just reminded both of you when you both heard it. Basically it was the song used when you both waltzed together when you both started dating after two months and you would have to say he was a really good dancer when it came to waltz.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Ranbob practically wanted to marry you the first time he even started to date you so that's definitely a yes. Not sure about you though considering you were a bit nervous.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

You would both get cats if you two ever considered getting a pet. Ranbob is practically fond of cats in general and would get one or more but only if it was okay with you which was good.

[sdottkrames]

I Know My Sister Like I Know My Own Mind

@comfortember Prompt 5: Cuddles

Summary: Penny Parker is sick, and when she is sick, she needs cuddles

Notes:  I have fallen in LOVE with Penny Parker, especially her as Peter’s twin. I always wanted a twin, so I definitely live vicariously through fanfics. Drop some Peter&Penny twin recs for me. I will love you forever if you do!

Read on AO3: Here

It was a bad day.

It had technically been a bad week, but Penny had been trying so hard to ignore it. It was her last group of exams before finals next month, and she couldn’t afford to get sick. She had an exam in Calculus, AP US History, and AP Lit, plus a huge project due in Chemistry, and two essays.

Her teachers were trying to kill her, obviously, and the worst part? It was working. Penny woke up that morning feeling like she was dying. 

At least I got through this week from hell. Only one day left. She thought, and rolled out of bed, nearly crying as her feet hit the cold floor. Literally everything hurt, and she just wanted to get back in bed with her aunt to be snuggled and coddled by her until she fell asleep.

Penny was especially clingy when she was sick. Even without the spider powers, her ability to stick to anybody who was willing to cuddle could rival Peter’s. They’d definitely overwhelmed their aunt one winter after both getting sick. May hadn’t been able to leave the apartment for three days.

But, alas, the snuggling would have to wait. May had to work early that morning and would be back late, and Penny had one last test to take. Stupid AP Lit.

Penny forced her aching arms into her comfiest, warmest shirt, and headed to the kitchen to force some breakfast down her burning throat. Peter looked up from his bowl of cereal and concern immediately washed over his face.

“You’re wearing your ‘sick shirt,’” he said, and Penny looked down at the oversized, light pink shirt she was wearing. “You always wear that one when you’re not feeling good,” Peter explained. He abandoned his Lucky Charms to feel Penny’s forehead. “You’re definitely a little warm, Pen. You should stay home.”

Penny was shaking her head before he finished. “No. I’m fine. I have one last exam in AP Lit, and you know Mr. Gardner doesn’t do make ups.” Peter made a face. He did know. They both despised the man’s rigidity and often talked about it at length. “It’s Friday, anyway. I’ll take a nap after school.”

He looked at her skeptically before sighing. “Okay. But we’re coming right back home and watching a movie. No homework, no Spider-Man. Just cuddles and tv.”

“That sounds perfect.” It took all of Penny’s self control not to whimper. She wanted to ask him to snuggle with her right then, forget school. But she took a breath, forced back the tears threatening to fall (she was also very emotional when she was sick), and went to grab the instant oatmeal. 

After breakfast, the twins made their way to school. Peter chatted the whole way, obviously trying to distract his miserable sister, and silently cheered when he was able to earn a few small smiles. 

The promise of cuddles and an evening being taken care of by her brother carried Penny through the day. She nearly lost control of the dam holding her tears when Flash, who always extended his taunting to both Parkers, made some stupid comment. 

But MJ came back with a snappy response and took Penny’s hand. Penny shot her a grateful smile, so glad that her brother’s girlfriend liked her so well, and was able to make it through the day. She was even fairly confident about the test, though she honestly didn’t care all that much about what she got on it at this point. She was just happy to be done.

Finally, finally the last bell rang, and Penny had to restrain herself from cheering. She and Peter walked home, and as soon as they opened the door, Penny was in her room, changing into her comfiest pajamas. Trailing a blanket behind her, she made her way to the couch, where Peter was already set up, his arm extended out for her to snuggle under.

The relief was instantaneous. She burrowed into his side, shivering in delight. Peter chuckled.

“What movie would you like, honorary spider?”

Penny giggled. The last time Peter and Penny had hung out with Black Widow, Nat had insisted they be the spider trio. When Penny had pointed out that she had no Spider qualities, the other two had brushed it off, saying she was an honorary spider. Very prestigious, indeed.

“Uh, I think I’m in the mood for Episode IV. I need a comfort movie.”

Peter pulled up A New Hope, and ran his hand through his sister’s hair, gently raking out each curl. Soon, Penny’s head was feeling exceptionally heavy, and she laid it down onto Peter’s shoulder. Her breathing evened out, and then she was blissfully asleep.

***

When Penny woke up, the first thing she was conscious of was the darkness. She’d obviously been asleep for a number of hours. The second thing was pain. Her head, her throat, her eyes. Everything was on fire. The last thing she realized was that she was alone.

“Peter,” she croaked out, her throat chafing. She tried again, putting some more volume into the word. “Peter!”

She was about to panic, but then she saw the note. 

Penny,

You were completely out, and I got a S-M emergency alert. I’ll be back in just a few hours. If you wake up before I get home, I’m sorry. I’ll get back as soon as I can. There’s some Motrin and water on the table for you. 

Love you.

Peter

Suddenly, Penny was crying. She couldn’t help it. She was sick, she was hurting, and she was alone. She didn’t blame Peter for leaving, but she just wanted him back. Needed him back. The tears wouldn’t stop, which just made her headache worse, which just made her cry more. It was a ridiculous, vicious cycle. 

Her fevered, mushy brain tried to grasp hold of someone, anyone, who might be able to fulfill the need to be snuggled, cause her blanket and pillow weren’t cutting it. She grabbed her phone and clicked on the first number that came to mind. It rang twice before-

“Hey, sweetheart! How’re you doing?” Tony's voice rang out from the other end of the phone. Penny opened her mouth, but only a sob came out. “Penny. What’s wrong?” He asked sharply, and she heard him suiting up already.

“Don’t feel good,” she managed to get out, her chest continuing to heave. “P-Peter’s on patrol and May’s w-working.”

“Oh, piccina,” he said, sympathy replacing the panic in his voice. “You at home?”

“Yeah. It’s d-dark.”

“I’m on my way. I’ll stay on the line.”

Tony’s voice held the dark at bay until he was knocking on the door. Penny forced herself up to let him in, and Tony was out of his suit and hugging her to his chest as soon as the door was open. He scooped her up, brought her back to the couch, and held her as her sobs and shivers slowly subsided.

“Sorry. I just, I fell asleep snuggling with Peter and when I woke up he was, he was gone.”

“And let me guess. You’re just as clingy as he is when you’re sick?” Tony asked, chuckling slightly. Penny nodded, then smiled as he wrapped the blanket around her and pulled her into his side. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. I’m glad you called me, sweetheart.”

“Thanks,” Penny whispered, her body aching but the need for comfort and contact had finally subsided, making it manageable. 

After a little while, Tony started to move, making Penny whine.

“You need food, piccina. I’m just going to go get you some toast and cocoa.” Penny pouted, but let go of the arm she’d held hostage to keep him there. 

Tony returned shortly with the promised food and some medicine, and Penny gratefully took it all. Once her belly was slightly filled and the medicine took the edge off the ache in her body, she started dozing off again, snuggled tight into Tony’s side.

Penny was just starting to dream about swinging through New York when a noise jolted her awake and made both her and Tony jump three feet into the air.

“Peter,” she gasped, a hand tight to her chest.

“You nearly gave us a heart attack, kid,” Tony complained.

“Sorry,” Peter said, but his grin negated the apology and Penny rolled her eyes at him. “What are you doing here, Mr. Stark?” 

“Well, Ms. Spider here woke up and you were gone, and apparently she’s just as sticky as you are when she’s sick. So I came to fill in.” 

Peter tapped the spider emblem and his suit fell away. He threw it over a chair, and then squished himself onto the couch on the other side of Tony.

“I gotta get in on the cuddle action!” 

“Geez, you two are a pair,” Tony griped playfully, and then yelped as Peter dug an elbow into his side in retaliation. “Watch it, underoos.”

“Oh, you love me,” Peter giggled, and Tony simply wrapped his arms around his kids in response, pulling them closer.

Eventually, they decided to order soup and watch Episode V, and soon Tony was trapped between two sleeping, snoring spider babies. (He’ll never admit that he took about 27 photos and texted both Pepper and Rhodey to gush about their cuteness.)

May came home just as the movie was ending, and he looked up, hopeful that she would help him get out of his predicament. As much as he loved being snuggled up with the Parker twins (gosh, he really was going soft) he couldn’t feel his arm and really needed to stretch his leg. But May took one look, snapped a picture, and laughed.

“Nope. Sorry. You won’t be leaving for another two days. Get comfortable,” she said, heading into the kitchen.

“That’s not funny, May,” he called. “MAY!”

All he got in response was a laugh.

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Seven, “The Tables Have Turned”

Clickable Links:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and POV surveys

- Inspo tag

- Playlist

                                 SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

“At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away, because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.”

Music Inspo: Everywhere by Niall Horan (click to listen)

              “You think I like having you in here, destroying everything that was me until all that’s left is you and a dead shell? You're all I bloody think about ... dream about. You're in my gut ... my throat ... I'm drowning in you.” 

                        - Spike, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (S5 x E14)

“How’s yer dad doin’?” Harry asks me when I return to my seat across from him, the soda threatening to spill over the top of my cup.

“He’s doing good, thanks. It took a while for his energy to come back, and sometimes he gets tired easily, but it’s a process,” I answer, plucking a chip from the small white bag and drenching it in the yellow queso. “He’s pretty happy to have all of his hair back, and he’s started to get back into running and lifting weights. Late last summer he started back to work where he does construction.”

“Wow, I feel like I learn mo’ ‘bout yer dad e’ry time we talk ‘bout him. I didn’t know he was into weights and all that, good fer him. Bloody hell he’s like superman. Ya dunno how happy I am t’ hear he’s back on his feet, and doin’ well,” he murmurs with a gentle warmth adorning his features.

It spreads with a spark across my skin when I feel his fingers wrap around mine, squeezing my hand. I’m guilty again with an absence of words when I look back into his eyes, all syllables stolen away from me at the sight and by his gesture. I don’t need to say anything though because unspoken words pass between us as he stares back at me, memories unraveling from all of the times he showed up for me. I still don’t know how I could have ever doubted he cared about me.

“Thank you,” I reply emphatically, squeezing his toasty hand in return. His thumb brushes along the back of my hand before letting it go.

“Welcome, Becks. ‘m sorry I wasn’t there at tha end t’ celebrate,” he responds softly, sadness laced throughout his words as his head falls. His eyes avoid mine as he picks up a few pieces of shredded cheese that fell onto the wrapper laid in front of him.

“It’s okay, Harry, we both kinda forgot.” His head of curls goes up and down at my softly spoken words that only brush the surface. Regardless, I think that it did the job and he knows what I mean. We both know that we ignored the other and forgot, whether on accident or purpose. “I guess there are several reasons for our celebratory dinner and drinks.”

“Very true, bug,” he agrees, the dimples finding their way back onto his cheeks once again. The itchy nervousness abates when his eyes lift again to mine and he holds out his half-eaten taco, grease and warm sour cream dripping from it. “Cheers t’ yer dad’s recovery, catchin’ up with old friends, and tha best o’ all - Becks gettin’ tha associate position at me firm workin’ with me. ‘m excited t’ see what tha future holds for me new favourite lawyer.”

“Stop it, or else I’m going to start crying, and you’ve seen me cry more than enough,” I smile, blinking back the tears as I hold out my taco and bump it against his. “Cheers to new beginnings, Harry.”

“Cheers, Becks, and ‘s okay if ya cry. Happy tears are good too.”

“Very true,” I agree, taking a page from his book before I finish the rest of my taco, a silence falling over our table. It’s replaced with crinkling of wrappers, sips of soda, chewing of crunchy chips and chocolatey churros, and stolen glances at the other.

“How’re Skye and Robbie these days? What’re they up t’?” he inquires, squashing the wrapper of his third taco into a ball that he sets on the side of the tray for our trash. I watch as he plucks a quesadilla from the stack of dwindling food, but he stops and grabs a churro as well with a sly grin. “Hey, they’re fer me too.”

“Harry,” I warn teasingly, a giggle peeking out from my words which he quickly echos, although accidentally. “Um, they’re both good. Skye got a new job at a salon on the west side that she likes. It’s called Roots or something or other, and Robbie is still working at Black and Blue. He actually started dating a girl recently, but I’ve yet to meet her. God, it seems like everybody else is having luck with love, beside us. Myles told me he’s engaged now, and then Robbie’s girlfriend, and Skye said the other day she has a date this week.”

“Ya, we’re ratha pathetic, aren’t we? We haven’t even had any drinks yet and we’re gushin’ ‘bout bloody love,” he cracks, clucking his tongue before feeding the rest of the crisp churro between his rose lips. My oh my, is that a scenic sight right there.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” I remark, finishing my second taco and grabbing the remaining quesadilla, earning a disapproving head shake from him.

As the flavors of the tangy sour cream, fiery seasoned chicken, and gooey cheese melt on my tongue, our words hit a sensitive spot in my heart. I just hope we can avoid it for the rest of the night, or else I’m afraid I might blurt out some words I’ve been itching to say.

+

“Hurry up, ‘s bloody cold,” Harry titters, digging his hands further into the pockets of his matte black coat.

“How far are we even going?”

“Oh, hush, you. ‘s not very far, jus’ anotha block,” he answers, his lengthy legs far ahead of mine.

“Harry, that’s what you said like five minutes ago, and slow the fuck down!”

“Hey, watch tha language, there’s no need t’ swear,” he remarks, meeting my eyes over his shoulder with his brows quirked into a V. When we arrive at a busy intersection, our feet stop on the sidewalk, and a muttered curse falls from his lips.

“Oh, so you can swear, but I can’t?” I quip, poking his arm playfully.

“Yes, li’l one, I can. ‘m not bein’ a very good role model fer ya, am I now?” he replies, a hand leaving his pocket to pat the top of my head covered in a knit hat. I respond with a roll of my eyes as his sly grin graces my eyes. “Are ya shrinkin’ on me, Becks?”

“Don’t.”

He only giggles, turning back to the onslaught of moving lights around us. I’ve always enjoyed the sights of London like this, the neon and fluorescent signs hugging every street, and the towering buildings. Harry mumbles a ‘c’mon’, tugging on my sleeve until I follow him across the crosswalk. Soon, we come upon a pub with a green neon sign donning the front, reading ‘Murphy’s’ that Harry pulls me into. His long legs lead me through the entryway, across red-tiled flooring, and to the long wooden bar where boisterous laughs sound.

“Can I have two Purple Haze martinis, please?” Harry says to the bartender, a tall fellow with an interesting red mustache that curls at its ends. He nods and turns around to grab two martini glasses.

“What are Purple Hazes, like is it something Prince liked to drink?” I ask Harry, falling onto the black bar stool beside him.

“I dunno, but you’ll like it. Jus’ trust me,” he smiles as he slides off his coat, and I admire the new view of his side profile. Something I haven’t seen in a long time. Seven months both does and doesn’t feel like forever, especially compared to that day I found him standing at the front of that lecture hall. Yesterday, when I turned around to find him standing in Myles’ office, it felt like it had been years. I blame it on all of the hurt. “‘Scuse me, can we also get two Skittles shots? Thanks.”

“So, now you’re my drinking mentor too, huh?”

“Pretty much, ya,” he smirks, balling his hand into a fist that he lays his cheek on to look at me. The smile winding its way along his lips under the dim lights drills a hole into the armor around my heart that’s cracking more and more. “And yer not doin’ that sissy thing ya do where ya have a glass o’ water on tha side.”

“Harry, I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow!”

“Becks, you’ll be fine! T’morrow’s a Saturday, anyways. What will it hurt?” he answers, shrugging his shoulders as the crinkles begin around his eyes. They almost disappear from my view when he looks to the bartender who sets the shots down in front of us, Harry mentioning adding it to his bill after thanking him. “Bottoms up, bug.”

“Oh, God,” I sigh, taking the greenish-yellow shotglass of liquid from his outstretched hand. “Stop looking at me that way.”

“What way?” he inquires with a furrowed brow, holding the shot close to his grinning lips.

“Like you know we’re about to get drunk.”

“Cheers,” is all he says, clinking his glass against mine before downing the liquid effortlessly. Shaking my head, I exhale loudly as the liquid nears my lips, and then it burns with hints of sweet and sour on the way down. “See, not so bad, was it?”

“Shut up,” I retort in the middle of a cough racking my chest, setting down the glass with a clunk.

“I have a question,” he announces after his giggling dissolves into the air. “Ya neva told me how you and Skye met, so how’d it happen?”

“You’re thinking about that right now?” I quip, carding a hand through my hair after I slip off my mauve-colored beanie. He shyly nods as he fidgets with a ring on his left hand, meeting my gaze only shortly. “We met in first grade. She was scary at first, because one day early on she got mad at me for stealing her friend, or something- I can’t remember. Then the next day, she came up to me and we were both wearing pink Hello Kitty shoes, and decided to be best friends. Like they say, the rest was history, and we were joined at the hip from then on. We were in the same class a lot throughout the following years, took the same electives in high school, and moved to London together to go to uni.”

“Sounds ratha picturesque, dontcha think? Or I s’pose that’s how it goes with five-year olds,” Harry murmurs, nodding to the bartender when he brings us the purple martinis. An awe leaves my lips when I see the ombre of purple hues filling the glass. “‘s vodka, Curacao, Black Raspberry Liqueur, and cranberry juice. I think you’ll like it. Go ‘head, try it, Becks.”

I obey and bring the chilly glass to my mouth, relaxing at the sweet taste of berries, filling me with the color purple. Then I wince at the harsh bite of the alcohol, eliciting a titter from Harry whose foot I kick with mine. Beside me, he gulps down a quarter of the drink, unfazed.

“How about you and Myles?”

“Good question, I dunno if ‘ve eva told ya that story,” he hums, tickling his stubbly chin with his fingers while thinking. Even the way the skin between his eyebrows disappears when he’s thinking is cute. God, everything about him is and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it to myself once all of this alcohol passes my lips. As another drink of the martini burns my throat, I think I may be warming up to that idea, but there’s the possibility it could all be for nothing if the alcohol steals our memories away.

“We met in high school inn’a class I can’t rememba tha name of, but we both hadd’a crush on tha same girl, and we both played guitar. So it was natural,” he mumbles, licking his lips and making me feel woozy all over at the sight.

“Sure, that’s a real natural friendship,” I giggle. “You know I’m a lightweight, by the way.”

“Oh I know, ‘m bettin’ onnit,” he returns with a wink, bringing the large glass to his bubblegum lips.

“You know what’s good?” I follow, watching his thick eyebrows hike up his forehead. “That Kinky stuff,” I respond, taking another sip. I almost choke on it when I glance at the shocked look screwing up his face.

“Becks.”

“No, God- t-the vodka, Harry . . . not that other stuff,” I chuckle, my entirety collapsing into nervous laughter. His own echoes mine as a prickly warmth spreads like fire across my body.

“My bloody God, Rebecca Holte, are ya already feelin’ that drink?” he hums, his bony knee knocking against mine underneath the table. The fiery nervousness abates briefly at the mention of my formal name, one I can’t recall the last time I’ve heard him say in its entirety. It comes as a shock to me, considering at times I’m convinced he’s forgotten it.  

“No, I-I just thought a liquor connoisseur such as yourself would know what I’m talking about.”

“Sure, I totally don’t believe you on that one, love,” he replies, scoffing when I softly hit his shoulder. “Yer prolly into handcuffs and gags, arentcha?”

“Harry Styles!” I exclaim, squirming when his hand covers my mouth. It falls within seconds, but the spicy vanilla smell coating his body remains with me, along with the warmth of his touch. Most of all, the familiarity and safety wrapped all in it causes a pang in my chest. “I do not do handcuffs, or bloody gags, and nor would I ever tell you, if I did.”

Words fleet his lips as he drowns them with another swallow of his violet martini. I turn away with my hair tickling my cheek as it shakes from side to side. It flies in front of my eyes when his fingers plunge into my sides, yanking laughs from my mouth as he lifts his eyebrows at me with a look that tells me to be quiet.

“I missed you,” I blurt out at random, feeling his fingers still on my side and his expression relaxes. The happiness falls from his eyes and cheeks, and with it I turn away, unable to deal with the disappointment I’m sure I’m on the verge of.

“I missed you too, y’know . . . loads,” Harry concurs, his fingers dangling at my side until they wander to my hands clasped in my lap. He steals one of them away and holds it against his leg, rubbing circles into my knuckles.

If this doesn’t make me spill the beans, then I’m positive the following liquor just may, and it all might come crashing down in front of me.

The next shot, a Lemon Drop, didn’t go down as smoothly. I felt like I was going to hack up a lung when I feel Harry’s warm hand on my back.

“Alright?” he murmurs in a rush, patting my back firmly until the cough subsides. “Sorry, that lemon one ‘s kinda hard sumtimes, ‘s ratha sour.”

“Ya think?” I respond, trying to make it go away with the last gulp of the Purple Haze, but it’s only a few seconds of relief.

I exhale and only feel his hand leave me when he orders a water, and two Tequila Sunrises, his a stronger one.

“Breathe, love, a water’s on ‘s way,” Harry hums, squeezing my arm. I nod and swallow hard, embarrassment coating me like a musty sheet.

“I thought you said no water.”

“Hush, I gotta take care o’ me li’l one,” he assures me, bringing a finger to his lips when I dare a look at him. A smile returns to my lips and remains there when the cold water graces them, him sipping at the Tequila Sunrise sat between his ringed fingers.

Oh, what I’d give to be able to wake up to a sunrise with him by my side. Oh, Harry.

“Hey, wha’s that ya got there?” he inquires, soon his painted nail lifting the bracelets from my right wrist. “Becks has a tattoo?! Since when?” he exclaims, astonishment and shock mixing into a cocktail amongst his features. His eyes bug out of his skull and then narrow when they return to my wrist.

“It’s a Queen Anne’s Lace, Robbie has one too, just on his upper arm and bigger. We got them when we were eighteen, um . . . . after our Gran passed. Grandma Holte . . Ann Holte,” I explain, helping him by removing the bracelets from around my wrist.

I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or just him, but my wrist finds a new home in his palm that he turns to better look at. The shock is replaced by a slow smile transforming his face, bleeding into his eyes that find their way back to mine.

“‘s gorgeous, Becks, truly. ‘ve always found tattoos o’ flowers t’ be so beautiful, yer makin’ me want t’ get anotha one even mo’ now. I mean, I have tha rose and anotha sumwhere I think, but now I want anotha thanks t’ you,” he hums, tracing the ink with the tip of his thumb, just a whisper of his touch. “‘m sorry ‘bout yer Gran, sounded like it was premature which ‘s always tha worst. Knew ya were strong, but fook, ya amaze me e’ry day, Becks.” Unannounced tears press warmly at the back of my eyes as he admires the sprawling flower, tracing each little petal until he’s tracked them all.

“You didn’t think I was that badass, huh?”

“No, ‘ve always thought ya were a badass, babe. A flower tattoo jus’ takes the cake,” he quips, looking me in the eyes and sending another crack down the case in my chest.

I don’t know how many more little shocks like this I can take, or my heart, before it breaks free from the cage I locked it up in so long ago. I hid it there to protect it from him breaking it, again.

+

“This ‘s me,” he announces, bringing us to stop in the parking lot. My confusion only grows as I look around, until my eyes stop on the black Harley Davidson in front of us.

“What? It’s the middle of winter, Harry.”

“I know, I know. That’s what e’rybody says, but I dress warm. I like t’ take her out e’ry once in a while t’ keep her runnin’ good. Maybe ‘ll hafta take ya onn’a ride when ‘s not too cold fer pussy Becks,” he coos, voice rising to a mocking tone.

“I’m sorry I don’t like the cold wind ripping my skin off,” I titter and his eyes roll into the back of his head with a groan. I stand there awkwardly, eyes following him as he grabs the helmet from the locked bag towards the back seat.

“Ya sure yer good t’ drive, bug? I can give ya a ride if yer not too much o’ a puss puss,” Harry remarks, turning to face me as he holds the buckle strap to the side, a smirk claiming his face.

“Yeah I’m good, thanks. Those four waters and twenty trips to the bathroom helped,” I answer, although regretfully as everything inside of me screams at me to accept.

Girl, how dumb are you?

Quiet, demon, I can’t take it back now.

“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear that, love. I uh, reckon ‘ll see ya inn’a week then?” he replies, sliding the helmet over his dark curls, fingering the chin strap.

“Yeah, the eighteenth.”

“Don’t miss me too much now,” he jests from behind the lack of visor that he had pushed up and out of the way. Even with the bulky metallic gold helmet, he’s so goddamn sexy it’s unbelievable.

“As long as you don’t miss me too bad either.”

“Eh, ‘ll try not t’ but it’ll be hard,” he echoes jokingly, squishing his lips to the side with a thought and suddenly they collapse into a pout. Then, he winks at me as he settles onto his bike. “See ya inn’a week, Becks.”

“Bye, Harry. Have a good weekend, and careful driving.”

“You too, bug, drive safe. ‘ll talk t’ ya soon, gotta get tha recipe fer that Kinky Blue drink from ya,” he tells me, the bike rumbling to life when he twists the key in the ignition.

“Bye,” I exhale, taking one last look at him before I turn around. I put one foot in front of the other and walk away from him, my least favorite thing to do of all things on this planet.

From behind my steering wheel a few cars down, I watch in awe as he slides on gloves before toeing away the kickstand and pulling out of the lot, looking more handsome than ever.

Just when I think he can’t surprise me, he does just that, and in the best way possible. Every time.

+

“Care to explain where you’ve been all night, missy?”

“It’s not even eleven, Mom,” I respond with a firmness trying in my voice, but I can’t muster it as I slide off my boots. No, there’s not really any reason in the world that I could be upset right now, or feign anything other than utter happiness.

“I know, I can read a clock, Ree. Hey, what’s that big smile for? I never got to hear how your interview went yesterday.”

“Oh yeah,” I realize aloud, the words falling automatically as I hang up my coat in the closet by our front door. Boy, is that a lot to unpack and rehash, and yet I look forward to relaying it all to her. That way, I get to relive all of it a little bit, and I don’t mind if I do. “Well, you were out all night partying too, so you can’t be mad at me.”

“You got me there, I’m guilty. Or can I say that yet, Ms. Lawyer?” Skye responds, a lightness showing in her words. After closing the door to the closet, I find the anxious eagerness waiting in her eyes, bringing elation to the front of my mind as I nod.

“I got the job yesterday,” I barely am able to say before she crossed the room, surrounding me in a hug. “Harry called me when I got home from work and told me the good news!”

“Oh my god, Ree, that’s so amazing! I’m so happy for you, holy shit!” she exclaims, amazing me at her strength when she squeezes me with her noodle arms. “Was he happy to see you?!”

“Yeah, I think so, and fuck he looked so good, Skye. He hugged me the first second he saw me.”

“Aww, that’s so bloody cute. So, when do you start?”

Pulling away, I look her in the eyes and revel in the happy celebration coating me in waves again.

“Monday the twenty-eighth, but I have orientation with him next Friday.”

“Oooo, lucky you!” she smiles, and I swear my happiness about the whole thing has only doubled since she stopped being angry at me for applying.

“And I may or may not have just went out for those belated dinner and drinks with him tonight,” I reveal slowly yet eagerly, watching more shock paint her face and her jaw drops.

“Ree, you basically went out on a date with him, that’s my girl!”

“Skye, it wasn’t a date!” I protest feebly, because once again any of the negative emotions have no chance at outshining the wonderful positive ones right this second. “It was just to celebrate my new job, and to make up for the dinner we never had this summer, and the drinks he wanted to get for my birthday which also didn’t happen.”

“Wait, what?!” she almost explodes, nearly all of the emotions under the sun covering her face, if only for a few seconds at a time. “I thought you didn’t talk to him on your birthday?”

“Well yeah, I didn’t besides that one text,” I answer, and then I slowly see the realization shine in her eyes.

“You opened his presents?!” she shouts, coming to grab my arms as I giggle with a nod.

“Yeah, after I got home and right before he called. Talk about a lot of happy tears yesterday.”

“No wonder you weren’t answering my calls, and I don’t blame you, you were a busy girl. Busy with Harry,” Skye notes aloud, the same sunny emotions showing in her words, but they die down as she nears her finish. “I told you he still cared about you.”

“I know, you were right all along, and it kills me that I ever believed he didn’t. He got me a mini purple piano keyboard, a journal to write songs in, the first season of FRIENDS, and wrote me the sweetest birthday card. Then, he called right after to tell me I got the job, and fuck, it all seems like a dream sometimes. But then I called him at work today to set up the orientation, and he had the idea to get together tonight, and it’s all like a dream come true,” I tell her softly, and slowly it all doesn’t seem so fake anymore, but instead it feels just like the dream I’ve always wanted my life to become.

“Girl, you are so lucky,” Skye comments, dragging me by the hand over to the sofa where we fall with a thud, heads resting on the back cushion. “Did you kiss him tonight? Because God, Ree, you are both so in love with each other, I dunno how you haven’t kissed him already.”

“I don’t know,” I muse aloud, staring at the ceiling, but really all I can see is him smiling at me at the bar. His hand on my back when I was coughing, bringing my hand into his when we said we missed the other, and all of those feelings sitting in his eyes that I’m sure he could’ve seen in mine as well. “I think I’ll wait until I get settled at the job, because starting a new job is always the worst part and overwhelming enough as it is.”

“If you say so, Boops, but I figure that’s not too bad of an idea.”

“Yeah, guess why?” I counter, turning my head to face her, finding strands of purple hair sticking out of her messy bun. She looks back at me, confusion etched into the lines in her forehead. “He’s my mentor for the next few years and I’m his mentee, so I get to work with him every day and all day.”

“Ree, you should’ve led with that! Holy shit, why didn’t you?” she exclaims, swatting my arm in disbelief as I dissolve into a happy laugh. “That’s amazing! You get to work with him and under him, it sounds like a pretty good deal,” she chuckles, her laughing lips falling into a please smile.

“I know, I really can’t believe the last two days sometimes. I hit the jackpot, the Harry jackpot,” I giggle happily, relaxing against the sofa, trying to remember his spicy vanilla scent. If I try hard enough, I can smell it when his hand covered my mouth in a joke, and the warmth of his touch the few times our hands met. It wasn’t nearly enough times, though. “I have to work with Myles my entire second week though, because he’ll be in Scotland to try the case I’m helping him prep for my first week.”

“That’s shitty,” she grimaces, crossing her arms over her chest clad in a fuzzy blue bathrobe. “Just ask him out when he gets back then, it’d be too annoying starting to date while he’s away. If you didn’t, I’m pretty sure you’d die from missing him, Ree.”

“Fuck, I already might, I’m dreading it,” I sigh sadly, not even wanting to think about how pathetic I already feel not looking forward to that week.

“I know you are, but don’t. You have so much more to look forward to just in the next few weeks, and maybe you can sneak your second and third date in there, and a kiss perhaps.”

“Oh my God, Skye, shut up,” I retort, but it’s soon consumed by my laughter as she pulls me into her arms and her chin rests on my head.

“I’m so blooming happy for you, Ree. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“So have I, Skye, so fucking long,” I recall aloud, trying not to let the melancholy find me as I lose myself thinking about how ungodly perfect he looked tonight. And how I get to see that handsome face five days a week for the near future; talk about lucky. Talk about a dreamboat finally lifting its sail.

+

The next few days seemed as if they took twice as long, and the mild headache I woke up to on Saturday morning didn’t help. Although relaxing, the day dragged on and soon it was Sunday, with another long week ahead of me. At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.

One of the many things they don’t tell you about becoming an adult is how music makes everything all the more tolerable, and exciting. Air Hostess by Busted fills one of my ears as I pass the aisle for boxed pasta, pasta sauces, and the like. On an endcap, I grab a box of fettuccine that I toss into my cart. Lifting my eyes, my legs move again and come across a figure that walks right out in front of me. Our metal carts bang against the other’s as a warmth tickles my insides, and my lips.

“God, Styles, you’re an awful driver,” I remark with a tsk, removing the earbuds to stuff into my pocket.

“Oh, hey, Becks. ‘m sorry I didn’t see ya there,” he comments, turning his tired green eyes to mine. He messes with the gray knit beanie covering most of his messy locks, and it suddenly makes me hyper aware of my godawful just-fell-out-of-bed appearance.

“No duh you didn’t,” I snicker, kneading the plastic sheath on the cart’s push bar. “Wow, nice Sunday Best, I’m impressed,” I tease, running my eyes over the baggy gray sweats covering his legs and the cream Abbey Road crewneck on his torso.

“You as well, Ms. Power Rangers,” he quips, nodding his head at my outfit that compares very much to his with black cheetah sweats, a hoodie, and beanie. “Which one was yer favourite since there was neva a purple one when we were li’l?”

“I know, I felt so ripped off by that,” I sigh, following him as he takes off and turns into the next aisle. “But I always loved the red power ranger, I don’t really know why.”

“Hmmm, interestin’ seein’ how he was always tha one in charge. D’ya have a thing fer bossy men or sumthin’, Becks?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh, tapping his bum with the front of my cart, earning evil eyes from him over his shoulder. “Who was your favorite Power Ranger, then?” I say, turning the tables to him. He comes to a stop in front of me, straying from his empty cart to grab a few cans of corn and peas.

“Green, I think. Can’t really rememba why,” he shrugs, placing the cans in the cart, soon returning to another section of shelves to pluck a large can of crushed tomatoes from it. “Which season was yer fav’?”

“Time Force, for sure.”

“Oh c’mon, Dino Force was far betta,” he scoffs disbelievingly, giving me another dirty look as he sets down the large can in his cart, crossing off something on the piece of blue paper he holds.

“Maybe you should be friends with my brother, seeing how you like all of the same stuff. The green Power Ranger was his favourite, and so was Dino Force,” I laugh, comparing two different brands of green beans, deciding on the cheaper one that I grab. My legs pass his cart and when I see him shrug his shoulders with a sly grin, I softly swat him on the arm, his name leaving me.

“Becks, ya betta watch it,” he giggles, catching my arm in his gentle grasp.

“Or what?”

“Don’t test me,” he warns, but the grin creasing his cheeks tells me otherwise, he’s harmless. I bump my shoulder against his after he lets go, but not without a tickle from him.

“Harry Styles,” I groan, grabbing a can of tuna from the shelf. His grin is wider when I turn around, rolling my eyes at him on my way back to my cart.

“Rebecca Holte,” he whines in a mocking voice, once again shocking me with his recollection of my name.

“Don’t, it sounds weird when you say my name like that.”

“It really does tho’,” he remarks agreeingly, words falling into a hearty laugh. I almost echo it until I spot the look on his face. Following his eyes to the shelves, I find his stuck to a display of Spaghettios. Some have meatballs in them, hotdogs, the pasta are in different shapes, and some cans are bigger than others. I’m not sure which one he’s looking at, but the absence of anything on his face whisks that question away. “Alright?” I ask softly, taking a few steps towards him, and he wakes back up when my hand touches his arm.

“Y-Ya,” he hums sadly, letting my fingers come around his forearm, almost as if I’m about to hook arms with him. God, I wish. “‘s been a while since ‘ve seen these, and even longa since I ate ‘em. I always used t’ eat ‘em at me granddad’s house with a piece o’ buttered bread,” he explains, nodding towards the arrangement.

“Oh, Harry,” I exhale, sadness bending my features as I squeeze his arm. He musters a forced laugh, carrying his eyes over to mine with apology held in them. “It’s almost been a year, hasn’t it?”

“Ya, this week. I can’t believe it,” he remarks softly, kneading his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger of his free right hand. “Almost think I should grab a can fer him, but I dunno if ‘d like ‘em now. I don’t wanna ruin that memory.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to buy it. You could buy or do something else to remember him, Harry.”

He nods beside me as I look up at him and watch the thoughts paint his face. It seems his face goes through every emotion within a minute - sadness, regret, confusion, frustration, grief, etc.

“Maybe get something you both like.”

“Ya, he loved those fudge-striped cookies, maybe I can find some o’ those instead,” he decides, tearing his eyes away from the lines of cans to meet mine. “Thanks . . Boops,” he smiles, that simple image calming the worrying of my heart.

I laugh and walk away from him, returning to my cart that I begin to push, but I find Harry’s in my way. With a playful groan, my lips part, “Come on, Harold, move it so we can go to the cookie aisle.”

“Hey, that’s not me name,” he responds, wrapping his bare fingers around the handle, giving me another glare over his shoulder.

“Well, neither is Rebecca, so don’t call me that.”

“But it ‘s actually yer name. Yer confusin’, y’know that?” he tuts, shaking his head as he looks straight ahead, moving down the aisle. “Hey, how’d ya eva come t’ be called ‘Boops’, anyways? I rememba Skye would call ya that sometimes when ‘d come ova.”

“God, I can’t believe you remember that nickname,” I groan, receiving a light chuckle from him ahead of me. On purpose, I bump the front of my cart against his bum again as he waits for somebody to pass.

“Becks- I mean, Rebecca, stop,” Harry says, turning halfway to meet my giggling eyes. One sits in his greens as well, but he only lets it show as a curling of one side of his mouth. “Ya I rememba, that’s all she called you. I think she did it on purpose.”

“Probably, knowing Skye she did it to bug me or embarrass me,” I comment, taking a right down the big aisle in between all of the smaller ones. Rows upon rows of cookies come before our eyes soon, along with baking supplies like flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. Dang, the amount of chocolate in this aisle is unreal, and somehow comforting. “My dad started it when I was a baby, or so I’ve been told. He’d tap my nose with his finger and it always made me laugh, I guess, so it stuck.”

“Aww, that’s adorable. Does he still boop yer nose when he calls ya that?”

“Sometimes,” I laugh, leaving my cart on the side as I pull out my phone, bringing up my shopping list. “So what are you all buying today?”

“That’s cute, y’know, and jus’ stockin’ up on some stuff. ‘m makin’ a pot pie t’night, so needed stuff fer that - carrots, an onion, celery, pie dough, broth, chicken, y’know,” he answers, bending down to squat so he can pull a pack of fudge stripes from the shelf. “Ah, here they are. I can’t rememba tha last time I had these eitha, but ‘m excited t’ try ‘em again, and think of Granddad when I have ‘em with a glass o’ milk.”

“Good idea,” I agree, patting him on the back as I tote a sack of flour in my other arm.

He finds me with his eyes over his shoulder, and those to-die-for dimples make an appearance again as his lips open with a smile, “Thanks, Boops,” he grins, tapping my nose with his finger. I want to tell him how original he’s being with that response, or the lack thereof, but the butterflies taking flight in my stomach consume all the bravery I had. “What’re you buyin’, hmm?”

“Same, just necessities.”

“Looks like yer bakin’ or sumthin’ with all that flour,” he comments, nodding to it as I set it down amongst the other items.

“Well, I’m going to make brownies, so yeah it’s a necessity, but that’s nothing new.”

“Ah, so Becks has become a baker, has she now?” he inquires, filling his arms with items up and down the aisle, because of course he is. I nod, joining him by a box of premade mixes, watching as he debates over which brownie mix to buy.

“I literally just said two seconds ago that I’m making homemade brownies, and you’re buying a box mix of them! Homemade is always better!” I exclaim, then groan with a disapproving shake of my head. “Harold.”

“Boops,” he returns, a smile winding its way up his cheeks covered in a light layer of dark facial hair. Now, that’s new, and what’s not to like? “I don’t mess with bakin’, so yes, ‘m buyin’ a box o’ premade. Unless ya’d like t’ make me some?” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows at me with an idea forming inside of my head.

“Maybe if you stop calling me Boops and Rebecca, I will one time.”

“Noted,” he responds, winking at me as he replaces the box on the shelf.

“Good boy.”

He continues to smile at me, and quickly I remember what it’s like to stare into this sunlight, and how it’s not so bad sometimes. It’s quite wonderful, actually. The buzzing inside of my chest grows when his finger nears my face again, and then brushes under my eye.

“I like seein’ yer birthmark when ya don’t cover it up, ‘s pretty, Becks,” he hums, tracing his thumb over it, tickling my skin. A small ‘thanks’ drops from my lips at his words, and the buzzing only intensifies as he stares back at me. In that moment, I swear I could do it and I almost try to until he turns away. I attempt to find comfort in assuring myself that I don’t want our theoretical first kiss to be in the middle of the supermarket, lest anybody join us in this aisle. “I think that’s all I needed t’day.”

Thoughts are building into words on my tongue until the ringing of my phone interrupts my plans. This is definitely not all that I needed today, per say. Lifting it towards my face, I see my dad’s smiling face waiting for me, reminding me I haven’t spoken to him in days amidst everything going on. He’s already called a few times and I wasn’t able to answer, and he’s probably starting to grow concerned. I also really need to tell him about the new job. He’ll be so happy, and I can only imagine the suggestive things he’ll say about Harry. Oh boy.  

“I should take this,” I announce, bringing my eyes back to his. He nods as he arrives back in front of his cart. “It was nice to see you and only one of you,” I snicker, alluding to the far too many drinks we consumed the other night.

“You too, Becks, it was nice runnin’ into ya. ‘ll try not t’ crash carts with ya tha next time,” he returns with a warm smile, coming towards me as he pushes his cart. The next time? Can you please not tease me like this, Harry? I want all of the grocery shopping trips with you, even if they’re only like this where I can’t have my arm hooked through yours. Maybe one time we’ll only need one cart, just maybe. He lifts an arm and squeezes mine on his way down the aisle. “Take care, bug, ‘ll see ya Friday.”

“Bye, Harry. Careful driving that thing!” I call out, and this time he doesn’t give me a dirty look when he looks back at me. Instead, he sends me that blinding smile of his I love so damn much. “And, I’ll be thinking of you this week, I know it’ll be a hard one.”

“Thanks, bug, I appreciate it,” he returns, winking at me before turning back around and rounding the corner, just as I press Accept on my phone.

“Hi, Dad,” I say, waiting to hear my dad’s comforting voice.

“Hey, Boops. How’s my favourite girl?” he asks, the warmth in his voice providing me with happiness, and stealing it away at the same time. God, I miss him sometimes, I realize inside my thoughts. As I still stare down the aisle, I miss another man too.

It seems I’m always missing these two every second of every day, and one of Harry’s hugs that I wish I’d stolen a few seconds ago.

+

As the numbers climb in front of my eyes, the last few days flash before them. Somehow, I’m amazed when the number seventeen appears before my eyes in a bright red font. The last week has dragged on at times, thoughts of Harry and standing in this very lift occupying my every thought. Checking my watch, I’m glad to see I’m early, just like I had planned.

The gunmetal doors part in front of me and I’m rewarded with the sight of Seventeen in all of its glory. The buzzing returns in my chest, and so do the multitudes of butterflies in my gut as I look around. It does and doesn’t look the same as before, but it smells the same, and in some ways it sounds the same. The Cubiclers are gone and now more offices line the walls, and a certain somebody sits inside of one this very instant. The very same person I get to spend the entire day with, and it’s the first of oh so many. I take a long look around, admiring the gleaming tiled floors and the dark wooden walls, a new cream chandelier or two dotting the ceiling. God, that remodel must not have been cheap, I think silently, and soon wonder if a certain somebody’s father in construction had anything to do with it.

I almost expect to see him round one of the corners of the large floor dedicated to the firm, but I don’t, and I’m unsure of how I feel about it. It’s all washed away when I find the door I’ve been looking for, and it’s open.

“Hey, stranger,” I announce, leaning against the door frame with a cheeky grin plastered across my face. “Look at you with the fancy new office all to yourself.”

Their tousled head of sandy hair lifts from their computer screen, and I watch his eyes change almost entirely. My name falls from his lips as he stands up and crosses the room to me, enveloping me in a hug.

“What are you doing here? Does Harry know you’re here?”

“Yeah, he knows,” I smile against Asher’s shoulder, pulling away after a moment of being surrounded by his crisp cologne. “I work with him uh soon - I got the associate job, and he’s my mentor.”

Again, the look on his face changes in a blink, and astonishment paints him in stripes. A nervous laugh falls from his lips as he grips my shoulders and clucks his tongue in disbelief.

“You’re always good with the surprises, aren���t you?” Asher replies and I nod, waiting for him to say more. “Becky, t-this is what you want?”

“Yeah, it’s what I want. He’s already been so kind to me, and we’ve been talking a lot. He picked me over everybody else, Ash!” I respond, watching the words register with him as he nods the slightest. “I’m not going to let him get away this time.”

“As long as you’re happy, and he’s good to you,” he insists, pointing a stern finger at me dotted with shiny blonde hairs.

“Yes, he’s already being good to me, Ash. We went out for dinner and drinks that we meant to do this summer, and things are already looking up.”

“Good, good. That’s already progress, Becky,” he hums, and I mumble a brief agreement. “But still, what are you doing here now?”

“Oh, I have my orientation with him today, but I don’t start officially until the twenty-eighth, after I finish my job at the courts,” I reply, and he nods a little harder this time, biting on his thumb.

“I see, it’s all making some sense now, thank God. So, when are you going to ask him on a date?”

“Ash!” I exclaim, following him further into his plain looking office where he sits on the corner of his desk. He crosses his arms over the ochre button down showing a white t-shirt underneath. “It’s not even my first day of work yet!”

“So? You’re wasting precious time!” he argues, his loud chuckle soon stealing away his words. I groan as my eyes roll into the back of my head, soon pushing up the sleeve of my dark violet blazer to find my brown leather watch.

“Yeah, sitting here arguing with you,” I giggle, returning my eyes to his summer blues.

“No, you’re right, because you could be talking to him right now. You know, flirting with him and asking him on a date.”

“Ash, stop!” I laugh, turning to walk away, but I stop when I reach his door. “I like the new office by the way, I’m happy they finally made you head of I.T. I’m really happy for you,” I say softly pointing to the words on his door, hanging onto the handle as he meets my eyes softly.

“Thanks, Becky, I appreciate it. It was about time Bitchie Trishie retired anyways, fuck was she old.”

“Ditto,” I smile and he returns it right away. “I’m really happy to be back.”

“I’m happy you are too, and I’m sure Harry is as well. You should get going, you don’t want to make a bad uh, second impression,” he notes, shooing me away with his hand.

We say our goodbyes and I return to the hallway, straightening my unbuttoned blazer over my long slacks the same color for probably the twentieth time this morning. What feels like for the fiftieth time, I smooth down the chiffon black blouse tucked in underneath, hoping I ironed out every single wrinkle. Skye’s words from his morning when we said goodbye come back to me with a warm smile.

“Ree, if he doesn’t realize what he’s been missing the second he sees you in that outfit, I’m going to be very disappointed in him,” she mused, shaking her head with pursed lips and arms crossed over her chest as I laughed nervously.

My black pumps echo with every step I take on the immaculate floors, soon finding Amelia at the front desk who I wave at, not bothering to check in again. Asher’s comment and its ambiguity comes to mind as I take a right through the lobby. What did he mean that he’s sure Harry is happy I’m back, too? Since when do Asher and Harry talk, or when have they ever spoken to each other with more than three words? Does he know something that I don’t know?

I don’t get another second to think about it, because soon I turn down the hallway. His hallway. The nerves of anticipation and excitement come over me as a smile grows hastily on my lips. I’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than I think I know, probably months, or even years. It’s hard to believe that the last time I was in his office, it was two years ago. The thought appears with a sting when I remember the last time I was in his office, because of him walking in on Amber well, assaulting me. A moment that I ended when I walked away from him, and here I am walking back to him, and I couldn’t be happier.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

I see his door first, and how it’s ajar, letting a section of his office peek through. Then, I hear the Paul McCartney song escaping from his office, followed by his humming. The humming doesn’t match the song oddly enough, but it transports me back to the hospital in Madley when I was wrapped in his arms. It’s the same song he was humming then that I still can’t figure out. God, those kinds of things bug me.

I see him first, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that, because I get a few extra seconds to admire him. It allows me to remember the way he absently twirls a piece of hair around his finger when he’s lost in a thought, how he always crosses his legs at the ankles under his desk bobbing a foot to the music, and just how incredible he always manages to look in a suit. A pastel teal number hugs his trim body with a cream button up underneath, giving me a peek at his thick chest hair underneath. Oh, I could just eat him up. If only.

Swallowing, I take the time for a silent deep breath before rapping my knuckle against the cold glass of his door with nervous lips, “Good morning, boss.”

His head flies up and I think I’ve scared him almost, but the happiness that consumes his face is instantaneous and contagious as ever. It spreads across his flushed skin until my favorite little things about his smile appear before my eyes, making this all the more real. The perfect little curls falling over his forehead make it all the worse, and the better.

“Mornin’. Are ya ready t’ get started, Ms. Holte?”

“Yes, I’ve never been more ready,” I reply, the anxiousness abating as he stands from his chair.

“Great, then let’s get started with yer official orientation as a lawyer fer Styles and Lawson,” he announces, firmness playing in his words until they end with sunshine dancing across them, his footsteps finding their way to me. “Y’know, ‘ve been waitin’ a long time fer this day, Becks, too long.”

Me too, Harry. I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for this new beginning.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #306

i’m v talkative today so pardon my jabbering below.

What is the strangest type of candy you have eaten? I think I've had one of those lollipops with a bug in it before as a kid? I don't remember. What would be your most ideal profession? A freelance photographer. But I'm honestly starting to lose hope. Have you tried those coloring books for adults? Yeah; it's funny you mention 'em, 'cuz a family friend got me one for my birthday earlier this month. What is a topic you definitely don't want to talk about with anyone? I don't like talking about my sexual history, doesn't matter who you are. It's just uncomfortable. What was your first gaming console? An Atari. Is there something you're eagerly waiting for? What is it? *SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE* MAY NEEDS TO FUCKIN' HURRY. My tattoo appointment is set then. :''') Do you/have you ever belonged to an organization? If so, which one? I was a Girl Scout when I was young. What is something you're very passionate about? Nature conservation, gay rights (equal rights in general, really), the pro-choice movement, and then there are less "important" things like certain hobbies interests and such. I'm sure there are more big ones that are just slipping my mind right now, considering I feel passionately for a shitload of stuff. What are you studying or what was the last thing you studied? I majored in Art & Design with a focus on Photography in college. But guess who dropped out. What was the last present you gave someone? I don't know... I mention enough that I don't have a source of income where I can really buy anything. I think the last thing I did was a Christmas gift for Mom a year or two back of a drawing I did of our late dog Cali, whom she absolutely adored. Do you enjoy plays? If so, what was the latest one you saw? Not really, no. What was the last thing you achieved? PHP has helped me focus on little victories, so prepare for an underwhelming answer haha, but it's something. I Facebook messaged an old friend I really wanted to catch up with, and everyone in group cheered for me. :') It was really heartwarming. What a shocker that this program is really helping me once again. What is something you would like to achieve at some point in your life? I would love love love to take at least one "famous" or award-winning photograph. It'd be such amazing validation that I'm talented at something I love so much. What is one philosophy you have regarding life/living/purpose? That's... difficult to answer seeing as I'm trying desperately to find my purpose. I do try to live by this old quote a therapist said once: "Deal with life, or life deals with you." I think it holds an incredible amount of depth and meaning in such a short phrase. How would you design the inside of your own home? I don't know the details of it, really, besides that shit is gonna look like a Halloween house year-round. I can imagine wanting black furniture, too, and having loooots of decor expressive of what I love and find comfort in. Gotta make a house feel like a home just for me. What is a band you remember liking from your childhood? Backstreet Boys, duh. Do you ever get mad at people for not having the same opinion as you (i.e. abortion being wrong/right, meat-eating being wrong/right)? Two things: it depends on the topic, and "get mad" is the wrong term for what I feel. It's more disgust; ex., I'm repulsed by anti-gay rights people and want absolutely nothing to do with 'em, but I'm not like, mad at them. Do you edit any of your pictures? In what ways? Oh yeah, and it definitely depends on the raw photograph. I edit depending on the mood it emanates; like if you've seen my roadkill photography versus nature shots, there is an extremely distinct difference in editing style and vibe. I'd say in general though, I tend to like to brighten my photographs and add more vibrance. If you like to take pictures, what is your motivation? God, I could write an essay on this. I just love and am so thankful for the fact we can literally freeze time forever with the click of a button and look back on fantastic sights, beautiful moments, memories... It's just magical to me, and I adore contributing to that art. Would you ever consider living anywhere cold? Well yeah, that's my preference, actually. What is your absolute favorite food? The spicy shrimp fritas from Olive Garden, jfc. Would you ever wear snake-skin pants, or other animal clothing? Fuck to the absolute hell no. What foreign country would you like to go to for a shopping spree? Idk, considering I'm not well-versed in the artistic creations of other countries. Perhaps India? Japan? I dunno. If you met your favorite musician, what would you ask him/her? I'm asking for his fucking autograph and a hug while I smile my face in two AND cry lmao. What do you spend most of your day thinking about? I ain't gonna bullshit nobody, my PTSD. In some way or another, he's lurking in that head of mine through memories, flashbacks, wonders of what could have gone differently... but thank God it's no longer in the forefront of my mind after my first PHP. I've come very, very far, but especially when trying to blank out my mind to fall asleep, parts of PTSD strangle my brain until I'm just finally out. I really hope that changes someday. Where is a busy place you would like to go to? Yikes, nowhere, really. I like to avoid busy locations. Do you think video games cause people to become violent? Absolutely not. You are responsible for the decisions you make; music, games, movies, etc. have no deciding voice in stupid shit you do, and it's bullshit that people blame art and entertainment for such things. Vocabulary: What was the last word you learned? I'm unsure. Have you or could you build your own site? Absolutely not from scratch. The closest I've gotten to that is my photography website, but it was through the assistance of Wix. What's the best thing you can cook yourself? Scrambled eggs, haha. I do make some bomb eggs at least. Are there a lot of graffiti around your neighborhood? No. Do you have a hobby that forces you out of the house? If so, what is it? Nature photography. Would you stop eating meat, if you had to raise and slaughter it yourself? Absolutely. God, I want to go vegetarian again... Besides English, what other languages can you speak? I can speak a very little bit of German. Took four semesters of it in high school and became very good at it, but lack of practice has pretty much ruined that. Besides English, what other languages can you read? I can read German well; as in, I can pronounce most words I see, but that doesn't mean I understand what is written. Do you think you could make it as a chef? Gordon Ramsey would deadass kick me off his show on day one, lmao. What's your favorite kind of tea? It marvels me JUST how many tea and coffee questions are in surveys. Anyway, I don't like tea. I am an embarrassment to NC culture. What thing/person/happening has made you the happiest you've been? lask;dfjal;wekrjwe What's the most freeing thing you've ever done? Stealing my happiness back from someone who had no right to hold it all in its entirety. That shit's mine. Do you think today's kids are really impatient? Most, probably, but in some ways I can understand it - at least, in the sense that with the assistance of modern technology and advancements in satiating our wants so quickly, kids just expect it. I definitely believe that patience is something to try to be deeply instilled in everyone, though. I don't have an ounce of it (in most situations) and wish I did. Have you ever tasted birch sap? No. How about the young buds/shoots of spruce trees? No. Which edible flowers have you tasted? One of my favorite Southern experiences is finding a bunch of honeysuckles and tasting the honey (is it technically even honey??). Tastes amazing. My family's hairdresser lives down a beautiful path that sprouts a massive amount of them, and as kids, my sisters and her two boys would go tasting them while our parents talked for so long, or if we were waiting our turn. Good memories. What has been your worst restaurant experience? I'm not sure, really. What's the most immature, adolescent thing that still makes you laugh? "Inappropriate humor type jokes." <<<< They can get me sometimes, too. Have you ever had a life-threatening condition? If so, what was it? No, thankfully. Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? I don't believe so, no. Besides making a tye-dye one in HS with our school colors. Wasn't my idea and never wore it, haha. Do you ever read other people's survey answers? It depends on the person. If it's a friend, absolutely, because I love learning usually obscure things about them I wouldn't have known otherwise. If it's a user I don't know from wherever I got the survey, sometimes, depending on how short the answer is and my eyes kinda just scroll over it. Do you like daytime or night time better? Why? Daytime, especially mornings. I'm generally happier when there's light around. What's your highest level of education so far? Some college. Describe your ordinary day: My average day is embarrassingly uneventful. It's sitting on the laptop doing shit on various sites, none of which are actually important, and playing WoW, which is also without true substance, save for social interactions with my friends on there. I spray Venus' terrarium everyday multiple times as well to keep the humidity up, and obviously eat and handle that kinda bodily needs stuff. Would you ever have a UV tattoo? Ugh, that'd be so dope. I've seen some awesome ones, but idk if I'd get one, considering when am I actually going to be under UV light?? Like I wanna be able to see my tat. What is the brand and color name of your favorite lipstick? I have one black lipstick, but it comes right off so I don't even like it. I only ever put it on to take pictures. What do you like on your tortilla? Just ham and cheese. How about inside your pita bread? I've never had pita bread, actually. What do you like in your burger? It depends on where I'm getting the burger. My basic is cheese, ketchup, mustard, a bit of mayo, pickles, and a light sprinkle of diced onion, but sometimes I add bacon and take away the onions. How about on your pizza? I have three I tend to pick from: pepperoni, jalapeno, or meat lovers. Do you work better alone or in a group? Alone, definitely. Which body part would you not mind losing? I'ma be extremely honest, with just how horribly weak my legs are, I could live without them, I guess. Not saying I want to by any means, it's just exhausting using them. Ideally, I'd take away something minor, like a finger or something. What common saying people use is absolute BS to you? “'Everything happens for a reason.'” <<<< Fuckin' colossal "same." I won't rag on people who believe it, especially if it gives you courage to keep moving forward, but I don't believe it in the slightest. If it were so, I'd like to talk to whoever is in control of those "reasons," please. What is the most interesting thing you’ve read or seen this week? I had no idea elephants were pregnant for two years, like holy shit, can you imagine. It was in an article I saw on Facebook about a mother and daughter elephant who are both expecting and doing well. Wonderful to hear. What’s the most useless talent you have? Ha, I'm a master in the arts of catastrophizing and jumping to conclusions involving people hating me in one way or another. What’s something everyone looks stupid doing? I'm one of those people who hate dabbing done by anybody, like you look like you're just smelling your armpit. Which kids’ movie scarred you for life? I wouldn't say "scarred me for life" by any means, but when I was little, I was terrified of the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz and even had nightmares about her. It sucked because my little sister was obsessed with that movie, haha. In one sentence, how would you sum up the Internet? A source of incredible knowledge but also hate and misinformation. What would be the most ridiculous thing for the government to make illegal? I literally dread the idea of Roe vs. Wade being reversed. Banning abortion would kill so many people with operational uteruses and cause absolute pandemonium. How many friends do you have on social media and how many of them do you know for real? On Facebook, I have 124 friends, and I'd say I know most of them "in real life." However, having been on the Internet since I was so young and befriending loads of incredible people, a good chunk are "online friends." Hell, I'm more interested in their lives than most "real" ones. Long-distance friendships are so valid. What fact amazes you every time you think of it? Lots of things, generally regarding the stupidity of humanity. What’s the most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done? Probably going to the beach w/ my old friend Colleen. We had zero plans of doing it, but she just called me one morning and asked if I wanted to go, and off we went. It was a fun day. What has taken up too much of your life? I'ma be real, WoW. I don't think I'm addicted to it like I once was seeing as I go through spans where I barely want to play it at all and don't, so I truly am capable of not playing it, but rather it's just the most entertaining way to kill time in my life. I just don't like how much time I've invested into a game over six or seven years regardless. Where do you not mind waiting? Uh, nowhere lmao. Is there an app you hate to use, but still use every day? No; why would I use it if that was the case? Who is the funniest person you know? My friend Girt is fucking hysterical. What three words describe you best? Complex, passionate, and creative. What makes you think you’re smart? Lol who says I think I'm smart? Who inspires you? Korean Jesus. Okay on a serious note, not just him, of course, but he's #1 in an entire universe of ways. Do you aspire to be like somebody else? If so, who? No; I want to be my own authentic self. How did you meet your best friend? YouTube, back when it had more social aspects. Which one of your accomplishments are you the most proud of? I want to say my recovery, but like... I wonder a lot if it's "enough" to be proud of with how scarred I still am? I still struggle with a lot and feel like I could be so much better by now if I tried harder. If I'm completely honest with myself, I think it's finishing high school in the top percentile of my graduating class. There was a ceremony for the handful of us and all, and I cherish my plaque probably too much. Reminds me of a time when I knew what the fuck I was doing. What's the strangest thing you ever did as a child? Thinking I had "animal powers" where I could invoke the traits of certain animals at will, like what the actual fuck, Brittany. What did your mother teach you? Christ, a lot. Dad didn't do a lot of the raising, honestly, so much of my core values and whatnot were instilled by my mother. She taught me to care for and be nice to others, respect myself, try my best in everything, and most importantly that she is always there for me and my sisters no matter what and can tell her absolutely anything. She was very serious about us going to college and saving sex for marriage when we were younger, but she diverged from those ideas as absolutely necessary with experience. I'm extremely lucky with who I call my mom, overall. What did your father teach you? Eek... Read above. Not a lot as a kid (save for riding a bike and playing softball); most he's taught me has come following reuniting with him after my parents' divorce. I remember we went to lunch once and talked about my breakup, and he talked to me about sometimes, you just have to let people go in order to be happy, like with him and Mom. He's very serious now about ensuring us girls know that he is always there for us and will help us in any way he's capable. What makes you feel powerful? "Powerful" isn't something I really feel, if I'm being real. What are you ready to let go? It would be inexplicably fantastic if I could let every speck of Jason go in both my head and heart. What is your most bizarre deal-breaker? I don't really find any of my expectations and limits as "bizarre?" They're all valid to me. Well wait, idk if you'd find it strange that I absofuckinglutely would not date someone who hunts, but it's not to me. That's a difference in a very serious value to me. Would you rather be hated or forgotten? Hated. God, I don't want to leave this earth having given just nothing. I can live with some people hating me for whatever reason. What’s the biggest personal change you’ve made? Accepting my bisexuality, probably. That's something that I consider pretty big for two reasons: 1.) I could end up with a woman forever, and especially 2.) I was originally homophobic. I still have difficulty in fathoming how I ever was. What are some of your short-term goals? PHP is finally starting to make me build these again. I want to get better at selfcare, draw, write, and read more, I want to drink a lot more water, exercise way more... Lots of things, really. What is the weirdest thing about you? Uh. I dunno. Probably that I RP meerkats, which is a very obscure RP niche for sure.

[judgement-free-sideblog]

The enemy of love is the truth

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Summary: They were happy just as friends, but one morning the call from an old trauma may change everything.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, history of drug use, mental health issues, cursing, angst, a little smut, violence.

I want to apologize in advance, I did my fare share of smut between 2008 and 2011, jesus we called them lemons back then (I'm so old, sorry) but in my native language. And even if I wasn't out of practice translating that kind of scenes is a complete nightmare, so I'm so sorry for what you are going to read.

■Part I  ■ Part II ■Part III ■ Part IV ■ Part V ■ Part VI ■ Part VII ■ Part VIII | Final ■

Part VI

"She invited you to ex's wedding?" Charlie said squatting out of breath, it was almost 8:00 am and they had been running since 7:00. "Don't you think it will be a bit inappropriate? I mean what if she still have feelings for that guy? God I need to lie down"

"Technically I invited myself..." Tom started also taking big breaths "Oh don't look at me like that, she they broke up long time ago, and even if she is not over him she would need support there, isn't that right Bobby??" He knelt to pet his dog, who looked at them puzzled by how tired they seemed to be.

"So, when is the big day?" He said finally standing up.

"Saturday, but apparently we are going to a small diner on friday night, the whole event is in a Hotel in West Yorkshire, and I don't feel like driving four hours in the same day"

"If I don't know you better I would say you're a brilliant bastard" he said choking out a laugh.

"Why?"

"Nice romantic hotel in the country, the emotional vulnerability of seeing your ex getting married, the comfort of the nice blue eyes of a loving friend" he said making and exaggerate gesture to Tom's face "But is you so ai assume you won't even share a room platonically"

"You are completely out of your mind" he said laughing "although it is a nice place, look" He showed him the electronic invitation where both bride and groom smiled to each other in front of the hotel.

"Is that the guy? Well she certainly had a type" he said studying the picture "I mean if he were older or a bit more fit he would look just like you" Tom look at the picture again not finding the resemblance "I'll tell you something if you guys finally do hook up could you wait until March to tell people? I said 3 years and 1 month and Zawe said 3 years exactly and I don't feel like letting her win."

"Do you really have a betting pool about us? Don't worry, I wouldn't tell you anything even of something happens" he said with a chuckle and they continued their run.

On friday at 3:00 p.m. he showed up at Y/N's place, with Charlie's words still resonating in his head, he found her in a beautiful burgundy off shoulder column cocktail dress and black heels, making this the third time he ever saw her in a dress, it was a big difference from the usual sneakers and hoodies, not a bad one but he couldn't help a bit of jealousy thinking this was for someone else.

"Stop staring at me, I know it's ridiculous and I'm gonna break my bloody neck with this things" She said showing him the fragile tip of one of the heels, he smiled founding his friend true nature even in that situation. "Stupid dress codes, is it too late to stay home? I have a rosé in the fridge wwith your name on it if you let me..."

"And losing the opportunity of seeing you roll your eyes at every old men comments on the country's economy?" He said putting her back inside the car and immediately after offering her hand to enter the car "Not a chance. You look lovely by the way"

"I won't roll my eyes at them, believe it or not, I do know how to handle myself in social events" She put on her seatbelt and he started the car turning on the GPS "Is the idea of meeting our old friends from uni and his parents what freaks me out, they must think I'm some kind of monster"

Our for some reason that word hurt more than it should, he brushed off the idea from his head again, jealous was an useless emotion to him and a dangerous one too in some people, and he was determined to not let them get the best of him.

"I don't think they would have invited you if they felt like that, or at least not to the rehearsal dinner too if that was the case." He said taking an exit indicated in the GPS.

"You clearly don't know Agnes Hawtrey" He briefly turn to her intrigued "David's mother, she is a rich harpy obsessed with showing everyone all the money their family has. I feel sorry for her future daughter in law, but since they actually getting married I assume she is not some Liberal brat who thinks spending Christmas in Libya is appropriate" She said imitating an high pitch voice with a posh accent.

"Why Libya?"

"Medecins sans frontiers" She answered "I volunteered to work with them in my holidays and David followed me a couple times. Agnes hated me for it, I actually think she was happy when I left him."

"Do you speak french?" He asked again trying to change the subject.

"Enough to work with them, but I'm completely rusty by now" she answered "I know it's too much effort to escape a suffocating relationship" the angry beast that had formed in his chest began to fade thanks to the idea of she not being entirely happy with the other guy, so he decided to approach the problem differently.

"I don't understand how do you end up together in the first place, you are too much of a free spirit to be around someone like that" He said, by now the city was getting behind them and he could start driving faster.

"Well my family is actually quite wealthy" She started causing a puzzled expression in his face "I reject any form of help from them and live on my own, but I did play my part in society for a while, so it seemed meant to be at the time. Of course I turned out to be a rotten apple and at some point I believe I was his excuse to hide how much he didn't enjoy their life style. I told you he was no saint, and maybe those where our finest moments" She said with a nostalgic smile, as if she remembered an specially pleasing memory. "But real life happened, you know? You are gonna like him don't worry"

"Well he sounds like a decent men" he said bitterly because his idea backfired "Music?"

They spend the rest of the trip talking about meaningless topics and singing along with the radio, by the time they eentered Yorkshire it was seven in the afternoon and the sun was standing to hide, the Waterton Perk hotel was magnificent, romantic and secluded as Charlie said, in the middle of a lake connected to land by a bridge full with trees naked by the winter that make the mansion looking more as something out of a fairytale.

He helped her out of the car and enjoyed having her body close to him while they crossed the bridge preventing her to fall with her heels. They entered a small lounge where people where waiting for the dinner to be served. As she had said earlier that week most of the people attending were old family friends of the bride and groom, and not many young faces were in the crowd. Except from those who he believed were the Uni friends, he introduced himself and even took a picture with one of the girls who had a similar reaction as Y/N when she met him.

Y/N was now chatting, a few meters away, more comfortable with them expecting the arrival of the main guests, while a couple of people were distracting Tom, complimenting his performance as Coriolanus a few years back and praising his Robert Down, so he couldn't notice the old woman, elegantly dressed in a light gray dress walking towards Y/N and dragging her apart from her friends, until she start talking in that high pitch voice Y/N had imitated very well earlier.

"How dare you showing your face in here?" The woman said to her while the young woman only remind silent not meeting her gaze "You spoiled ridiculous brat, after what you did to my boy, you should be ashamed..."

"Relax Agnes," She finally said lifting her look, Tom then was about to intervene but he could se a quiet rage behind her otherwise unaffected face, and felt forced to stay and watch "Let me remind you that your son invited me. And the last time I checked you are not David, also if you cared a little about your precious boy you wouldn't be making a fool of yourself in front of your guests" People where now standing very close to them listening every word the women said.

"You are right dear," Agnes started with a tone that said just the opposite, but smiling regaining her composure "After all how can I expect manners from a little trash from Devon anyway" Y/N let out a sarcastic laugh at the remark against her hometown and looked at her while the elder woman turned her back on her.

"Of course because the loose daughter of a fisherman as you called me can't be a suitable in law for you, I honestly pity the poor woman who has to have you in her life, I hope you can control her since you couldn't do it with me...

Her sentence die in the air because an old hand full of rings slapped her before she could finish, a red mark started forming in Y/N face, an she was fighting the tears, both from the humiliation and the hurt, from coming out of her eyes. Tom could see Agnes hand getting ready to hit her again while he tried to reach Y/N when a hand stopped her out of nowhere and spoke with a deep angry voice.

"That's enough mother" The infamous David was there, holding her mother still and standing in front of Y/N as a shield, all welled dressed and athletic, she looked tiny behind him and the beast inside Tom's chest started growling again. "Dad I asked you to watch her, Diane will be here any minute and I can't have this happening right now" The man who Tom assume was his father took agnes outside of the room and the rest of the people returned to their conversations as if nothing happened, finally allowing him to get closer. "Are you ok baby?" He said looking finally at Y/N offering his handkerchief to wipe her tears, that last word burned like fire in Tom's ears, he was now facing her with his back to Tom, and the bright smile that she gave him when she answered was making him sick

"It's okay sweetheart" She give back the handkerchief and give the man a good look "Let her have it, she has wanted to do that for 15 years, it's only fare, you look amazing, I'm so happy for you" She hugged him and the familiarity he showed holding her, made Tom's blood boil, he wanted to get him apart from her immediately, and take her far away from him and the poisonous thought of they together for years was corrupting his mind, there it was, jealousy cold and simple, the only thing his mind kept telling him was: He had her, and you don't. He had her for years, just the way you want her, she was his.

"And where is your something like that, I'm dying to met the lad" He said letting her go.

"Right behind you" she said completely ignoring the change in Tom's expression who was looking at the two with his mind apparently somewhere else. "Tom this is David." She said calling his name and breaking the murderous thoughts he was having.

"Sorry I wake you up the other night mate... Bloody hell you beautiful minx you did it!" He said loudly hugging her by the shoulder and then, much to his displeasure, Tom "Years obsessed with him, and drooling to his posters in our house and here you are inviting him to my wedding, I must say girl you made it! congratulations." She started turning red again but this time from the embarrassment, and Tom finally relaxed, something about David's personality make it impossible for him to be angry, maybe it was the fact that he was genuinely happy and how could he not? It was his wedding after all.

"Posters?" He asked enjoying the desperation in Y/N eyes urging him to change the subject.

"Posters, dvds, tshirts, you name it, she dragged me to watch your movies like four times each time they were on the cinema and then watched them on repeat at our flat" He recalled with exasperation "Don't get me wrong you are a fine looking man but not my type"

"Oh god, I think I'm going to find your mother to slap me again" She said covering her face "Please, I beg you stop talking"

"Let the man finish, it's the most compelling history" Tom said and while he put his arm around her waist taking her close to him.

"I'm glad to see you two together, I was so relieved when she said she was bringing someone, not like she needs anyone" He said anticipating her reaction proving to Tom just how much he knew her "But you two look actually happy together, and she's the most wonderful person" Y/N was about to clear things out when Tom wink at her and pressed her a little closer to him.

"She actually is, and we are very happy" He said giving him one of signature smiles "Is that your bride?" A young looking woman entered the room with a beautiful pale pink dress, and she looked at them completely baffled.

"Oh yes baby, that's my Diane" the man said and Tom felt ashamed for his brief jealous attack as the man seemed to call everyone baby. "Guess who we wake up the other morning dear?" The man said urging the girl to join them.

"Oh my goodness" The woman started "Are you...?" Tom smiled and politely introduce himself, and David then introduced both women "I am so sorry about the other morning, I told David to wait until noon when we were in Pakistan but he called you anyways, it was four in the morning right?"

"Yes, but never mind, what where you doing in Pakistan?" Y/N said now holding tight Tom's waist too.

"Building a hospital, Diane's foundation hired me a couple years ago and that's how we met, we've been living there for like five months, we were just going to elope a few weeks back, but I did this so I wouldn't cause my mother an aneurysm, but she had to accept my conditions to make it happen" He said proudly.

"Like inviting me?"

"That was actually my demand" Diane said with a little blush on her face "I really wanted to meet you, I heard so many wonderful things about you I thought maybe it was time for you to be friends again"

"And I told her we never stopped being friends in the first place, but she is stubborn, and I can't resist her" they started kissing like there were no one else in the room and Tom and Y/N look at each other nervously.

"Oi! Leave something for tomorrow" on of their friends called them from the dining room "The food is here come on"

The rest of the night went by without any other incident, apart for the perpetual state of happiness that David showed for Tom's presence, by the time the rest of the gests went to find their rooms Y/N and Tom were taking a last walk in the cold night, it was until they were at the entrance of the bridge that he noticed they were holding hands.

"Your boyfriend is quite a nice gentleman" he said teasing her.

"By the amount of wine he was trying to make you drink I would think he wants to be your boyfriend" she responded quickly. "Why did you told him we were together?" She question him now completely serious.

"I didn't thought you wanted to explain the nature of our relationship after what happened with his mother. So until the wedding is over I suppose I'm your boyfriend. How is your face by the way?" He said, not giving importance to the matter while they kept walking.

"It has been better. And thank you I suppose you are right, and it is nice to imagine what could have been, if I haven't been an idiot at the restaurant all those years ago, and not scaring you into not calling back" He stopped suddenly making them broke contact.

"That's why you think I didn't called?" He asked perplex "I couldn't care less about that ridiculous tantrum, if anything I was more interested in you for it" she was too astonished by his declaration to talk so he continued "I didn't asked you out again because you said I'll see you around I assumed you didn't want to be involved with me that way so I didn't push it."

"Well..." She started quietly with a sad half smile in her face "I did say that, with that precise intention, but secretly hoping for you to call anyway, and I even considered to ask you out myself, but then we became friends and, I don't know it was for the best, but nights like this one make me wonder if we made a mistake."

"Please never say that again" He took her face with both hands his hands and looked deeply in her eyes "Every day I have spend with you regardless of what our relationship may be, has been a blessing. I wouldn't change it for the world" she let go a sigh and her breath turn into vapor in the night, making them realize the cold weather. "I think we should get back inside, you are gonna freeze out here love, and what kind of fake boyfriend will I be if I let you become an ice lolly?". He offered her his arm so they could get back inside, his mind thinking too about how much he wanted to call her the minute he got home that day, but as always trying to respect her he didn't , and as always he calmed his regrets telling himself it was for the best, even if every passing day he felt more and more the opposite.

The room they had book was nice and comfortable, the big canopy bed in the middle was a beautiful promise of a long night of sleep and the window had a beautiful look at the lake. They both will be lying if they said this was the first night they have spend together, falling asleep talking in Tom's couch had happened more than half a dozen times, and even if Y/N never accepted it in front of her friends, she had stayed a couple of nights with him watching Bobby getting better, even sleeping in the same bed completley completely consumed by fatigue, so there was no awkwardness between them about consciously sharing the bed.

She took her heels off and found her silky romper pyjama in her suit case next to her travel size copy of Wuthering Heights, wich she occasionally read when she traveled and with the look outside the mansion it seemed appropriate, Y/N sit in the armchair in the corner of the room to read, waiting for Tom to get out of the shower, after reading four times the same paragraph without getting anything from it she realized just how tired she was.

She heard the door opened and saw him getting out of the shower whit just a pair of black loose sweatpants dangling from his hips and a thin line of pubic hair crawling up from the waistband dying in his perfect abs, drying his hair with a towel.

"What?" He asked her looking at her finally. "Do you feel alright darling?"

"I'm just tired" she said quickly taking her clothes and getting into the bathroom for a much needed cold shower. When she stepped out after drying her hair she almost fell down because he had turned out all of the lights and was already deeply sleeping, she'll have time to nagging him about how inconsiderate that was in the morning, she entered the bed and close her eyes trying to drift apart and think about nothing when she felt his arms suddenly trapping her and bringing her closer to him by her waist.

She didn't mind since they had cuddled like that before, even when this particular time she could feel the bare skin of his chest in her back, but then the hand that was holding her started moving slowly caressing her belly and some parts she often felt self conscious about, then slowly moving down to her thigh, she was about to finally move and stop him when she felt his breath behind her back and his deep voice in her ear.

"Are you awake?"

"Yes" Y/N said in a tiny whisper while his hand found her way under the fabric of her romper.

"Are you cold again?" He asked this time brushing his nose in her neck, every inch of her skin was reacting to his touch and the deep tone of his voice was making her wet "you are shaking"

"It's not about that" she answered incapable of moving only embracing the magnificent sensations she was receiving.

"Am I making you feel uncomfortable?" His hand had finally found her lacy panties and he had stopped only touching the seam waiting for her permission to continue. "Do you want this to happen?" He said stopping his movements completely, she could feel her heart racing and all logic flying away.

"Yes, I want it" she said finally and he caressed her womanhood over the thin fabric, making her soaked, while his other hand tried to remove the top part of her jumper sliding down the traps leaving her braless chest exposed.

"Naughty girl" He said with a chuckle leaving a trace of kisses in her back and cupping her breast in his hand playing with her niple until it was hard and them pinching it to get her in that point between pain and pleasure.

He move apart the fabric of her panties and let one of his long digits inside her making her moan in pleasure and impatiently brushing her thighs together desperate for more friction, she could feel his arousal pressing firmly in her buttocks, and all this anticipation was only to torture her.

"Don't be impatient my dear" he said letting in another finger and curling them inside her, touching her right on the spot to make her lost her mind "Tell me that you want it Y/N" he order her and she let go another moan.

"Fuck me Tom, fuck me please!" She said and he immediately took his fingers out to pin her in the bed under him.

He finished taking the rest of her clothes in one movement and opened her legs ready to enter her, he give her one last deep look with those piercing blue eyes and he bend to kiss her...

"You should take a shower or at least put on something more comfortable" Tom face said suddenly wearing his glasses and fully clothed. Y/N blink twice, before shaking the sleepiness, and trying to figure out what was happening. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, but I thought you may want to shower before going to sleep"

She finally opened her eyes completely and could see him out of the shower on his pijamas, her silky romper still waiting for her to take a shower and her book comfortably resting on the lamp stand next to her.

"Yeah sure, I'm too tired I must have fallen asleep, thanks for waking me up" she said avoiding his look and desperately picking up her fresh clothes.

"Sure love, you can't be at the wedding with a crooked neck" he said picking up the book she was reading. "You were moving a lot so I imagine that armchair can't be comfortable" he said with a distracted smile and she went straight to the bathroom before turning red of embarrassment.

Y/N slammed the bathroom door closed, and Tom stood next to the armchair looking where she was just moments before, once he heard the water fall in the shower he massaged his temples, trying to erase from his mind what he had seen but it was impossible and he really didn't want to forget it. She was sweating and panting when he got out of the shower, and the neckline of her dress a was a little lower than usual perfectly countoring her breasts.

He stood there looking at her and it took him just one more second to realized what kind of dream she must've been having. Blushing and feeling like a pervert he walked back into the bathroom determined to make as much noise as he could to wake her up when he heard her moan. Fuck me Tom, fuck me please! He walked back to her and before the blood abandoned his brain entirely, to migrate to his lower region, he did the logical thing and wake her up.

He exhaled feeling like and idiot. This was going to be a long weekend.

[likeshipsonthesea]

If you're doing prompts, 19 and 24 for nurseydex

for au mash up 19. Summer Camp AU and 24. Soulmate AU

okay so in this universe, as per any soulmate universe, soulmates are A Big Thing. the way that soulmates work–let’s have some fun here– when you touch your soulmate for the first time, they leave a color in the spot they touched you. it has to be skin-to-skin. this will become important later.

so in this world, since soulmates are such a big thing–almost everyone finds their soulmate, the only typical cases that don’t are people that die young or people who are aro, though there are platonic soulmates and poly and such, bc we’re inclusive here boyos– but because they’re so big and common and everything, there are a lot of industries around them

psychics and palm readers have specialized skills to tell you what your soulmate is like, bio-medical companies sell drugs that tell you how long it will be until you find your soulmate (sketchy, but people are desperate) and the weirdest one, imo, is the send-away summer camps for children to find their soulmates young.

yeah. weird.

there’s science to back it up, saying kids who kind their soulmates at younger ages live longer, healthier lives, and the matches between those soulmates is much stronger and, now, with the advent of social media, kid soulmate findings always go viral

so now onto our story; nursey’s parents all have very big work summers coming up (his parents are one of the few poly soulmates in the world, his dad is aro and platonically bonded to nursey’s mom and mama, who are v gay and v in love, and they all live together happily in a beautiful brownstone) so they ask him what he wants to do for the summer and he shows them the brochure for the Summer Soulmate Camp in the rural part of maine.

why did nursey choose this one? he’s a romantic and thinks the greenery is the perfect place to fall in love, it won’t be too hot for the summer, he can go swimming, and they have a hockey rink. it’s perfect.

(also, sidenote, i imagine he’s about ten or eleven here, dex is the same)

so though nursey’s parents are a little hesitant, they also want their son to be happy, so they buy him all the gear he’ll need, drive him up to maine, and kiss him goodbye on the first day of camp.

nursey takes to the camp immediately–the food isn’t great, very bland, but the people are so nice and there’s so much to do and he can’t wait to find friends, even if he doesn’t end up finding his soulmate. his roommate is a great guy–named chris, but goes by chowder– and he’s so enthusiastic and he tells nursey he plays goalie in hockey so when the day comes to join the hockey group on campus, they both head down to the rink, bouncing and excited.

this is, of course, where dex comes in.

dex, a sullen, tiny, perpetually frowning little dude gets matched up with nursey for d-man. despite nursey’s initial hesitation at such a little guy being a d-man, dex soon shows his worth by checking the opposing forward hard.

“will, buddy, we’re not checking in this league, okay?” the coach, a well-meaning woman with smile crinkles next to her eyes.

dex stares up at her. “if i’m not checking anyone why am i even here.”

there may or may not have been an expletive in there somewhere. we’re not going to mention it if you won’t.

and you might be wondering, “hey why is dex being such a dick” or maybe you’re just like “mm in character” (ur wrong but whatever) but here’s the story. these summer camps are usually reserved for people who have the money–there’s only so many spaces and aside from the soulmate thing, they still have a bunch of amenities and it’s for the whole summer. by all rights, dex shouldn’t be here.

but then last winter happened, and he fell down during hockey practice, and the doctor explained to the poindexters–little mama p standing tall, resolute, her husband holding onto her waist in support, dex’s older brother j, finally not wearing an asshole’s smirk– that dex was sick. badly.

and see, dex is fine. like, the chemo sucked and his hair falling out sucked and everyone looking at him like he’s a weak little useless fucking– it sucks. but that was months ago, and it’s sort of in remission now, and though the doctor says it’s probably going to come back and they’ll have to do another round of chemo– dex is fine okay. the buzzed hair doesn’t look too bad and he’s stronger now, he can play hockey again.

but the cancer scared his parents, and his extended family, and though they all believe in the natural meeting of your soulmate, they all silently agreed that dex didn’t have the time to wait. the only thing sadder than dying young was dying without a soulmate.

so they scrounged up the cash through all the branches of their family tree and sent dex to Summer Soulmate Camp, and now here he is, angry and isolated and ready to check any rich prep kid that looks at him funny on the ice.

as you can imagine, nursey and dex don’t get along well at the start.

dex isn’t much into soulmates and doesn’t keep his opinion to himself, and nursey is so wholeheartedly romantic that he can’t imagine not thinking about your soulmate every day. “they’re the one person who can make you the best you can be,” nursey says, one day after practice, and dex scoffs.

“if you’re not good enough on your own, how the hell is your soulmate being chained to you gonna make it any better?”

they also argue about money things, but mostly brand names that dex doesn’t know, or international trips nursey doesn’t realize is a luxury. to be fair, none of the other kids know this either–nursey at least tries to listen

(he’s too young, really, to understand how his blackness has affected him in a similar, possibly more visible way. later on, he’ll read books about slaves “given permission” to marry their soulmates from masters, the interracial couples that ended in mobs driving the black man out of town–or worse– and the history of black soulmates being restricted and demeaned and made to feel less than. now, now he only notices being the only mixed boy in the room some of the time. now, at least, is a calm before the bliss is broken.)

but the thing that comes along with all of nursey and dex’s arguments is that they come to know each other better than anyone else at the camp. even chowder, who tags along with them all the time when he isn’t following after the girls’ volleyball team (he hasn’t touched farmer yet, so he can’t know, but he really likes her smile and she’s the best at doing handstands), even he doesn’t know how nursey feels about books the way dex does, after the late-night talk around the bonfire when nursey got rambly and giddy and dex just.. listened

and it takes a while before dex talks about the cancer. back home, everyone knows, but here he could pretend. nursey doesn’t tell everyone–dex almost expected that he would, but that was more on him than nursey– but he listens and nods and doesn’t pity dex, respects him maybe, cares, but no pity.

and that night, sitting on the end of the dock in a rare unsupervised moment, nursey nearly reaches out to hold dex’s hand in comfort, and dex nearly hugs nursey when he says, “fuck cancer” in the most emphatic, simple, comprehending way dex has ever heard, but neither does. they’ve learned, in this culture, the importance of touch, and both boys are too scared to find out, to break that last barrier. this could be enough. this should be enough.

the rest of the summer is spent in a haze of friendships and salt water and trees and scraped knees and laughter, and all of them swear that they’re gonna text, call, facetime, whatever. they’re going to keep this up. they’re going to be friends forever

they’re not allowed phones at the camp, so they write down each other’s numbers– just dex’s, actually, because he’s the only one who can remember his home phone number– and nursey and chowder swear to call when they get home and give dex their number (chowder also has farmer’s number, now, and her mark–smudgy and bluish purple on his shoulder from where she tackled him trying to spike the ball in a game on the beach last week. his, teal, is on her palm almost in the shape of a heart)

on the day of pick up, dex’s family shows up first–closer– and he and nursey are forced to say goodbye. “i guess this is it,” dex says, hefting his duffle bag strap onto his shoulder.

“no it’s not,” nursey insists. “i’ll call you. i will.”

“yeah right,” dex says, but he’s smiling anyway, and something about the moment–two boys, from such different worlds, somehow so similar in all the important ways, stand in front of each other, having never touched but knowing every little thing– something about the moment makes it so, suddenly, being soulmates doesn’t matter.

they’re friends. no matter what their colors say, that can be the most profound relationship they ever have.

“see you, nursey,” dex says, impulsive, and reaches his arms up to hug nursey close. nursey, startled, wraps his arms around dex. the hug is so unexpected, so quick, that neither of them feels dex’s forearm brush against nursey’s neck, neither of them notice the spread of green–on dex’s arm– or orange– nursey’s neck

later, after dex’s dad pulls in the driveway of their house, dex shoves open the door he’d slumped against when he got in the car and absentmindedly goes to wipe off the mossy-green stuff on his arm only to see it and freak

nursey, since his is behind his head, isn’t the one to notice his mark. it’s only when he’s going up the stairs in front of his mama that she yells something about “papito why didn’t you tell us you found your soulmate?” and nursey drops all of his bags and races up the stairs to the bathroom to try to use a hand mirror and the bathroom vanity to see the sunset dex left on his neck

but here’s the drama, right, nursey goes for his bag to find dex’s number and call–and he can’t find the paper it was written on. he scours his stuff to no avail. his parents call the summer camp, but they legally can’t give out information, and nursey doesn’t know the name of dex’s town and– you get where i’m going. they can’t find each other. they lose touch.

and both boy wonders what could have been, dex wonders why nursey didn’t call (probably develops a complex, whatever) and nursey wonders why dex never tried to look him up, and nursey hopes that dex’s cancer didn’t come back and dex hopes that nursey is still the romantic he’s always been, but they don’t see each other for another seven years.

what happens then? well, these hockey nerds go to take a tour of this cool college called samwell and, well. the rest i’m sure you can figure out from there.

(excerpt from the aftermath; a frequent fight

“i can’t believe you lost my number”

“i can’t believe you gave me a mark i can’t even see”

“i can’t believe you wanted to go to a summer camp to find your soulmate when you were ten”

“i can’t believe you didn’t–”

“nursey, dex, please can we just pick a place to eat and go?” poor baby chow

boys; “well, i had cancer, so i think i should get to pick–” “hey, you can’t pull the cancer card every time you want to eat at the grill, it’s not fair!” “i lost my hair, derek!” “so? you shave it all the damn time–”

chowder’s stomach rumbles. he texts chowder frowny faces and she sends back a cry-laugh and a wink. he gets no sympathy for his plight.)

[atlasfms]

           phew  ,  this  really  did  take  forever    &    for  that  i’m  sorry    !    but  hi  love  bugs  ,  i’m  lina    &    i’m  super  excited  to  introduce  u  to  my  very  own  version  of  the  devil    !   atlas  has  been  a  v  important  part  of  my  life  for  almost  a  year  now  ,    &    he’s  pretty  much  the  same  as  before  except  a  little  update  near  the  bottom  of  this  intro    !    there  are  also  some  wanted  connections  right  at  the  bottom  too  so  if  u  would  like to  plot  pls  like  this    &    i’ll  come  running  to  u    !    i  also  apologise  for  how  long  this  intro  is  djgkhvj  i  get  carried  away    !

❛    new  york’s  very  own    atlas  deniro    was  spotted  on  broadway  street  in    air  jordan  1s    .  your  resemblance  to    xavier  serrano    is  unreal  .  according  to  tmz  ,  you  just  had  your    twenty - second    birthday  bash  .  while  living  in  new  york  ,  you’ve  been  labeled  as  being  heedless  ,  but  also    beguiling    .  i  guess  being  a    sagittarius    explains  that  .  three  things  that  would  paint  a  better  picture  of  you  would  be    crooked  grins  ,  silver  chains  ,  regrets  .    &    (    cismale    &    he / him    )    +    (    lina  ,  twenty - one  ,  she / her  ,  gmt    )

TRIGGERS  ;  DRUG  OVERDOSE  ,  DEATH    &    CANCER  .

┈´    ›    𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒    .

NAME  :  atlas    (    to  carry    )    nathaniel    (    gift  of  god    )    arthur    (    noble    ;    courageous    )    deniro    (    notably  people  with  dark  or  black  hair    )  .

NICKNAMES  :  ace  ,  atty  ,  pain  in  the  ass  .

AGE  :  twenty - two  .

BIRTHDAY  :  december  third  .

ZODIAC  :  sagittarius  .

GENDER  :  male  .

PRONOUNS  :  he    &    him  .

NATIONALITY  :  american  .

ETHNICITY  :  english  ,  italian  .

LABEL(S)  :  the  jocular  ,  the  libertine  ,  the  lothario  .

OCCUPATION  :  model  ,  singer  ,  socialite  .

NETWORTH  :  50  mill

PROS  ;  athletic  ,  challenging  ,  charming  ,  curious  ,  daring  ,  debonair  ,  faithful  ,  forthright  ,  fun - loving  ,  humourous  ,  invulnerable  ,  passionate  ,  perserverant  ,  playful  ,  protective  ,  sociable  ,  spontaneous  ,  witty  .

CONS  :  abrasive  ,  arrogant  ,  blunt  ,  careless  ,  clumsy  ,  compulsive  ,  conceited  ,  deceitful  ,  destructive  ,  devious  ,  disobedient  ,  egocentric  ,  greedy  ,  ignorant  ,  meddlesome  ,  narcissistic  ,  obnoxious  ,  provocative  ,  reckless  ,  troublesome  ,  unstable  ,  vindictive  .

┈´    ›    𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘    .

            aldo  nathaniel  arthur  deniro  was  destined  for  greatness  .  everyone  knew  it    ;    hell  ,  even  the  biggest  ceo’s  in  new  york  were  shaking  in  their  boots  at  the  thought  of  what  this  young  man  was  capable  of  .  he  was  a  dead - ringer  for  his  father  ,  with  his  light  hair    &    bright  blue  eyes  ,  he  had  looks  ,  charms  ,    &    a  good  head  on  his  shoulders  .    &    like  his  father  ,  he  knew  what  he wanted                the  family  business  .  but  first  ,  he  had  to  go  to  college  .    &    only  ivy  league  would  do  for  the  son  of  one  of  the  world’s  richest  ceo’s  .

            columbia  university  was  highly  prestigious  ,  private  ,    &    the  fifth  chartered  institution  of  higher  learning  in  the  united  states  .  besides  ,  it’s  business  school  was  one  of  the  oldest  in  the  world  ,  so  what  more  could  the  future  owner  of  the  family  company  want    ?    in  this  instance  ,  a  girlfriend  ,  but  he  didn’t  know  it  yet  .  when  nathaniel  met  scarlett  baccouche  ,  daughter  of  two  british  politicians  ,  they  didn’t  exactly  get  off  with  the  best  start                they  hated  each  other  ,  in  fact  .  but  what  was  once  hate  turned  into  an  epic  love  story    &    after  they  graduated  ,  they  got  married  .  not  long  after  that  ,  they  had  their  first  child  .

            their  daughter  was  a  stunner  ,  like  her  parents  .  the  news  was  celebrated  all  over  the  world  ,    &    when  aldo’s  father  retired  the  company  into  his  hands  ,  things  just  seemed  to  get  better  .  scarlett  had  a  successful  acting  career  ,  starring  in  a  hit  tv  show  that  seemed  to  be  getting  more  recognised  every  day  .  their  lovely  maid  ,  diane  took  care  of  their  daughter  on  the  days  they  could  not  ,    &    everything  was  pretty  much  perfect  .  they  had  a  huge  property  near  the  coast  of  the  hamptons  ,    &    at  some  point  they  were  ready  to  expand  their  family  .  so  in  early  march  ,  tests  comfirmed  the  news                scarlett  was  pregnant  with  twins.  on  the  third  of  december  1996  ,  atlas  nathaniel  arthur  deniro    &    his  twin  sister  were  born  ,  only  5  minutes  apart  .

            everyone  celebrated    ;    the  family  ,  friends  ,  even  supporters  of  the  notorious  family  .  his  hair  was  fair    &    there  were  arguments  over  whether  his  eyes  were  his  mother’s  or  his  father’s  .  but  since  he  was  born  ,  the  main  question  was  whether  he’d  follow  in  his  father’s  footsteps  or  his  mother’s  .  would  he  give  the  family  company  a  modern  twist    ?    would  he  be  this  generation’s  brad  pitt    &    be  the  star  of  hit  blockbusters  in  upcoming  years    ?    people  were excited  ,  but  atlas  wasn’t  .  he  was  nowhere  near  it  .

            the  deniro  household  had  it’s  challenges  .  they  seemed  like  the  perfect  family  unit  ,    &    perhaps  they  were  ,  but  aldo    &    scarlett  had  other  ideas  .  they  were  quite  strict  in  raising  their  children  ,  teaching  them  to  never  slouch  ,  to  use  your  manners  ,  to  keep  up  a  perfect  reputation  .  it  wasn’t  the  family  name  that  was  at  stake  ,  but  also  their  future  ,  because  like  everyone  else  in  the  world  expected  ,  they  wanted  their  children  to  grow  up    &    take  over  one  of  their  careers  ,    &    they  groomed  them  to  do  just  that  .  atlas  hated  it  .

            he  hated  the  daily  tutors  supplied  by  his  father  ,  lessons  in  business    &    the  history  of  the  family’s  .  he  despised  the  acting  classes  his  mother  forced  him  to  take  ,  ones  which  he’d  often  skip  out  on  but  then  would  get  into  trouble  once  his  parents  found  out  .  he  felt  trapped    ;   forced  to  do  things  he  grew  to  loathe  .  to  him  ,  it  was  obvious  that  he  could  do  neither  of  the  things  his  parents  wanted  him  to  do  .  so  the  more  they  pushed  ,  the  more  he  pulled  away  .  he  started  to  feel  less  like  their  son  but  a  puppet  whose  strings  they  kept  pulling  .

            what  he  didn’t  hate  ,  though  ,  was  the  feeling  if  his  fingers  on  guitar  strings  ,  singing  in  the  shower  because  that  was  the  only  place  he  could  sing  without  his  parents  complaining  about  him  making  a  noise  .  diane  would  often  smile  at  him  after  they  chastise  him    &    quietly  compliment  him  on  his  voice  ,  telling  him  he’d  do  great  things  one  day  .  of  course  ,  he  already  knew  this  .  his  music  teacher  told  him  once  that  he  could  sing  the  birds  to  silence  .

            school  was  enjoyable  ,  as  it  goes  .  all  deniro  children  were  educated  in  a  private  school ,    &    although  he  was  close  to  his  sisters  ,  he  made  friends  easily  .  he  had  a  charming  smile    &    witt  that  only  few  would  understand  ,  he  was  the  sort  of  kid  who  got  along  with  anyone  ,  but  he  couldn’t  consider  any  of  them  to  be  close  friends  .  so  whereas  to  them  he  looked  happy  ,  he  was  quite  the  opposite    ;   atlas  eventually  got  tired  of  his  parents  controlling  his  life  so  instead  of  keeping  up  his  otherwise  impeccable  reputation  ,  he  started  to  rebel  .

            he  didn’t  really  do  a  lot  at  first  .  snuck  out  to  a  few  parties  ,  stayed  out  later  than  his  curfew  allowed  him  to  .  did  the  opposite  of  everything  his  parents  wanted  him  to  do  ,  be  that  going  to  the  classes  they  arranged  for  him  or  behave  himself  in  general  .  he  just  wanted  to  live  his  own  life  ,  do  what  he  wanted  .  he  wanted  to  focus  on  his  music    &    follow  a  path  that  he  knew  he  would  enjoy  .  so  he  decided  he’d  do  just  that  ,    &    for  a  while  he  felt  a  little  glimpse  of  what  being  truly  happy  felt  like  .

            however  in  high  school  ,  atlas  got  involved  with  the  wrong  crowd  .  they  introduced  him  to  a  world  he  had  yet  to  really  experience    ;    a  world  full  of  alcohol  ,  sex  ,  drugs  ,    &    general  trouble  .  he  knew  he  shouldn’t  have  stuck  around  it  ,  but  it  was  addicting  .  it  was  so  unlike  the  restrained  life  he  grew  up  with  ,  that  he  jumped  right  into  it    &    found  himself  unable  to  get  out  of  .  there  was  more  to  it  ,  though  .  the  more  he  rebelled  the  more  people  started  to  notice  him  .  how  structured  his  jawline  was  ,  how  illuminated  his  eyes  were  under  any  light  .

            atlas  hadn’t  really  had  an  interest  in  social  media  before  .  of  course  ,  he  had  an  instagram  account  that  he  barely  used  ,    &    didn’t  really  start  using  until  someone  mentioned  he  should  start  modelling  .  sure  ,  they  were  joking  but  avery  actually  considered  it    &    started  posting  pictures  of  himself  .  his  following  plummeted  ,    &    in  the  november  of  his  sophomore  year  he  was  scouted  a  modeling  agency    &    became  one  of  vogue’s  most  promising  talents  .

            his  career  exploded  from  then  on  ,    &    so  did  his  popularity  .  he  met  people  he  would  never  have  had  the  chance  to  meet  otherwise  ,  more  specifically  someone  called  jason  .  the  pair  quickly  became  good  friends  ,  they  went  to  the  same  school  so  it  was  convenient  .  jason  acted  as  a  good  influence  on  avery  but  atlas  acted  like  a  bad  influence  on  him  ,  dragging  him  into  the  world  he  found  himself  stuck  in  which  is  when  things  started  going  downhill  .  jason  grew  a  little  too  accustomed  to  narcotics  ,  but  at  first  atlas  didn’t  notice  .  he  wasn’t  really  one  to  talk  ,  anyway  .

            one  night  the  boys  headed  to  los  angeles  to  celebrate  their  upcoming  graduation  ,    &    before  going  for  a  night  out  they  decided  to  have  pre - drinks  in  their  hotel  room    &    started  popping  pills  .  atlas  didn’t  really  see  how  many  jason  took  ,  but  before  he  could  warn  him  it  was  already  too  late  .  everything  else  from  that  night  was  a  blur  of  blue  flashing  lights    &    a  lot  of  strangers  shouting  out  medical  terms  he  didn’t  understand  .  the  only  thing  he  really  remembered  from  that  night  were  the  words  ‘ he’s  dead ’  .    &    an  overwhelming  feeling  that  it  was  his  fault  .

            the  tragedy  of  jason’s  death  left  atlas  in  a  state  of  seclusion  .  he  spent  three  solid  months  alone  in  his  room  ,  blaming  himself  for  what  happened  ,  but  he  didn’t  stop  the  drugs  .  if  anything  ,  he  used  them  as  an  escapism  ,    &    when  his  parents  gave  him  an  ultimatum    :    rehab  or  college  ,  he  chose  the  latter  .  he  enrolled  in  columbia    &    took  up  the  same  business  course  his  father  did  .  for  the  first  month  ,  he  was  bitter  ,  cold  to  everyone  ,  would  barely  talk  if  he  could  help  it  .

            but  some  of  his  old  school  friends  went  to  the  same  college  as  him  ,    &    atlas  started  to feel  more  like  himself  again    (    or  a  version  of  himself  that  felt  similar  to  what  he  was  before    )    &    tried  to  forget  jason    &    everything  that  happened  .  his  parents  has  covered  up  the  death  so  avery  wasn’t  related  to  it  ,  a  cleverly  articulated  plan  to  keep  it  out  of  the  papers  .  but  that  didn’t  stop  the  questions  ,  which  avery  would  quickly  divert  in  order  to  forget  .  he  had  to  forget  .

            he  didn’t  .  jason  was  his  friend  ,    &    one  of  the  few  people  who  truly  understood  him  .  jason  always  believed  in  atlas’s  music  ,  so  it  only  felt  right  that  he  returned  to  him  .  if  not  for  himself  ,  then  for  the  memory  of  his  late  friend  .  so  he  dropped  out  of  college  ,  found  himself  a  management    &    started  writing  songs  ,  composing  music  .  at  first  it  was  difficult    ;    every  time  he  sang  a  song  or  played  a  tune  ,  he’d  remember  jason  .  but  after  time  he  eased  into  it  ,  dropped  out  of  college  ,    &    has  been  working  on  his  first  album  ever  since  .

            atlas  became  an  all  together  different  person  .  he  became  manipulative  ,  deceitful  ,  partying  every  night  to  erase  the  memory  of  that  night  like  it  would  somehow  go  away  ,  but  it  didn’t  .  every  time  he’d  close  his  eyes  ,  he’d  see  his  lifeless  friend  ,  so  he’d  stop  closing  them  . he’d  spend  nights  in  a  stranger’s  bed  ,  only  to  leave  in  the  middle  of  the  night  .  he’d  drink  away  the  pain    &    swallow  down  the  guilt  that  was  threatening  to  swallow  him  alive  .

            what  atlas  doesn’t  know  ,  though  ,  is  a  secret  his  parents  are  keeping  from  him  .  in  early january  this  year  ,  his  father  was  diagnosed  with  localised  prostate  .  after  the  loss  of  jason  ,  atlas  became  distant  from  his  parents    &    they  didn’t  want  to  burden  him  with  the  news  due  to  him  only  just  getting  back  to  his  normal  self  after  the  trauma  of  losing  his  best  friend  .

┈´    ›    𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘    .

            outwardly  ,  atlas  appears  to  be  quite  content  .  he  can  start  a  conversation  with  anyone  ,  act  like  he’s  interested  but  then  three  minutes  later  he’ll  get  bored    &    move  onto  the  next  thing that  interests  him  .  he  likes  staying  busy    &    preoccupied  ,  thinking  that  if  he  keeps  his  mind  busy  ,  he  won’t  think  about  the  past  .  it’s  for  that  reason  that  it’s  hard  to  tell  what  he’s  actually  thinking  ,  unless  you  know  him  really  well  or  are  good  at  reading  people  .

            he  can  be  very  cynical  ,  a  trait  that  he’s  carried  since  he  was  young  but  he  was  better  at hiding  it  then  ,  now  he  really  does  not  care  .  at  first  it  mattered  to  him  what  people  thought  ,  now  he  couldn’t  care  less  .  he  does  what  he  wants  when  he  wants  ,  often  not  thinking  about  the  consequences  of  his  actions    &    then  dealing  with  them  later  .  it’s  for  this  reason  that  he  can  be  quite  manipulative  ,  using  his  charms  to  get  what  he  wants    (    or  who  he  wants    )    to  serve  as  a  distraction  .

            he  can  be  quite  brutal  about  his  opinions  ,  learning  a  long  time  ago  that  holding  your  tongue  won’t  benefit  you  at  all  so  he  basically  just  says  what  he  wants  .  but  ,  he  doesn’t  really  answer  questions  directly  ,  especially  if  they’re  personal  .  he’ll  more  likely  change  the  subject  or  divert  the  question  to  someone  else    &    act  like  he  was  the  one  who  asked  the  question  in  the  first  place  .

        atlas  is  very  reckless    &    will  literally  do  anything  for  a  good  time  ,  be  that  getting  so  drunk his  face  hits  the  floor  ,  or  so  high  he  forgets  his  own  name  ,  or  to  even  cliff  diving  so  he  can  get  some  form  a  thrill  .  if  someone  tells  him  he  can’t  do  something  ,  he’ll  go  out  of  his  way  to  prove  them  wrong  .  he’s  incredibly  stubborn    &    has  a  tendency  to  let  people’s  words  go  through  one  ear    &    out  of  the  other  .

┈´    ›    𝐅𝐔𝐍    𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒    .

he’s  honestly  such  a  lil  shit  tbh    ??    idk  how  else  to  describe  him

he’s  a  vegetarian    &    has  been  since  he  was  eight  bc  he  watched  this  documentary  once    &    was  Distraught

his  vc  is  bazzi  bc  if  u  don’t  know  how  much  i  lov  him  r  we  even  friends

he  has  a  dog  called  bloomer    &    he’s  his  literal  son  ,  like  his  actual  child

he  still  lives  in  his  huge  ass  penthouse  so  if  anyone  wants  2  be  his  roommate  that’s  a  plot  for  u

atlas  is  literally    ??    such  a  fuckboy    ??    but  he  denies  it    &    says  he’s  just  charming  ,  when  rly  he’s  a  lil  bitch

a  dramatic  hoe  who  lives  for  drama  but  is  100%  the  sort  who  will  run  away  if  it  gets  too  much  bc  he’s  a  mess

when  he’s  dedicated  to  something  ,  be  it  a  subject  or  a  relationship  ,  he’s  completely  faithful  which  is  v  surprising

adores  his  fans    &    will  actually  do  anything  for  them  ,  has  been  known  to  punch  out  a  security  guard  or  two  so  he  can  get  to  them

fun  fact  once  he  got  arrested  for  racing  on  private  property

another  fun  fact  is  he  loves  cars  so  pls  do  not  touch  his  bbies  thank  u

he  might  seem  all  fine    &    dandy  but  he’s  on  the  verge  of  a  mental  breakdown  but  won’t  admit  it

gets  drunk  ,  high  ,    &    hooks  up  with  strangers  on  the  regular

he’s  fluent  in  italian    &    has  a  HUGE  italian  family

atlas  can  come  across  as  being  ignorant    &    self - absorbed  ,  but  he’s  actually  really  observant    &    notices  everything

is  100%  the  sort  of  ‘ fall  in  love  with  the  moment    &    think  you’re  in  love  with  the  girl ’  type  of  guy  but  it  lasts  for  like  2  seconds  bc  he’s  fickle

speaking  of  fickle  ,  he’s  had  many  relationships  that  haven’t  lasted  that  long  bc  he  can’t  decide  what  he  wants  from  one  minute  to  the  next

┈´    ›    𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐒    .

           last  time  i  didn’t  do  a  summary  of  the  deniros  but  honestly  they’re  apart  of  me  just  like  atlas  himself  ,  so  i  wanted  to  do  a  few  quick  bullet  points  bc  who  doesn’t  love  a  huge  ass  italian  family    !

obviously  ,  the  deniros  come  from  an  italian  decent    &    let’s  put  it  this  way  ...  there’s    a  lot    of  them  .

the  deniros  originate  from  florence  ,  italy    &    although  there’s  an  ever  growing  list  of  little  additions    &    the  fact  that  they  ,  for  the  most  part  live  in  different  parts  of  the  world  ,  they’re  an  incredibly  tight - kint  family  .

the  deniros  are  also  very  ,  very  rich  ,  like  multi - billionaire  rich  which  collectively  brings  the  family’s  net  worth  to  obviously  extortionate  amounts  .

there  are  multiple  businesses  which  certain  members  of  the  family  is  responsible  for  ,  but  atlas’s  father  has  by  far  the  most  profited    &    therefore  most  stressful  one  .  the  company  that  literally  brands  the  family  is  called  ‘ allora ’  ,    &    they’re  a  parent  company  for  some  very  expensive    &    luxurious  brands    (    i.e.  victoria’s  secret  ,  gucci  ,  there’s  more  but  like  the  failure  i  am  i  have  Forgotten    )

the  deniros  are  a  very  proud    &    highly  anticipated  family  ,  success  meaning  more  to  them  than  it  does  the  average  person

despite  this  however  ,  they’re  incredibly  traditional    &    spend  nearly  every  holiday  together  ,  as  organised  by  nonno  arnaldo    &    nonna  céline  .

atlas’s  favourite  uncle  is  by  far  his  uncle  toni    (    i  see  u  vi  hitting  up  his  ims    )

there’s  a  long  line  of  twins  in  the  family  ,  including  atlas    &    arya  as  well  as  their  father  ,  who  is  twins  with  their  aunt  cordelia

they  have  kind  of  .....  a  pattern  w  names  sufjgjji  they  all  match  alphabetically  in  some  way  because  their  grandparents  are  obsessed  with  aesthetics

they  have  their  own  tv  show  coming  up    !    stay  tuned  for  more

uhhh  there’s  probs  more  so  i’ll  come  back  to  this

┈´    ›    𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄  :  𝐀𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝟏𝟑/ 𝟎𝟒/ 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟗  .

           good  god  so  much  has  happened  since  i  first  brought  atlas  to  life  agfkgjo  so  here’s  a  little  update  since  i’m  too  lazy  to  write  that  huge  ass  biography  all  over  again    !

ok  so  he’s  still  a  little  bitch  ...  but  it’s  more  now  with  the  intention  of  being  a  little  bitch  than  it  is  accidental

he’s  released  his  first  album    !    it’s  titled  ‘ damage ’  control    &    has  reached  amazing  success  .  his  world  tour  starts  in  august    &    he’s  incredibly  excited    !

he’s  also  had  the  opportunity  to  work  with  some  incredible  brands  ,    &    is  very  soon  going  to  be  the  face  of  an  incredibly  successful  brand  that  u’ll  learn  more  about  later  probably

as  for  his  modeling  work  ,  he’s  the  male  ambassador  of  paco  rabanne’s  fragrance  ‘ 1  million ’  ,  he  has  his  own  personalised  clothing  line  collaboration  with  calvin  klein  ,  has  been  working  with  prada  A  LOT  recently  as  well  as  some  other  brands  i’m  too  lazy  to  think  of

last  year  he  won  the  fashion  awards’  model  of  the  year    !    look  at  him  popping    !

it’s  not  all  sunshine    &    rainbows  though    (    is  it  ever  avdhgj    )    because  after  a  recent  questioning  at  the  police  station    (    there’s  a  self - para  somewhere    )    he’s  been  getting  flashbacks  of  memories  he’s  been  pushing  back  ever  since  jason  died  ,  but  now  they’re  all  coming  back  so  he’s  been  resorting  to  drinking  excessively    &    abusing  drugs  more  than  usual  just  to  forget

in  the  same  light  ,  he’s  also  started  racing  again    &    starting  fights  with  people  for  the  heck  of  it

so  basically ......  he’s  a  huge  ass  mess  like  a  bigger  mess  than  usual

BUT  HE’LL  GET  BETTER    !!!    it  just  might  take  some  time    &    some  help  to  get  there  but  he’ll  be  better

┈´    ›    𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄  :  𝐀𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝟎𝟗/𝟏𝟎/ 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟗  .

atlas  has  had  . . .  a  little  bit  of  a  wild  ride  the  past  few  months  fjdkgng

on  the  anniversary  of  jace’s  passing  ,  he  was  in  a  dark  place  &  ended  up  overdosing  ,  landing  him  in  a   three  day  coma

after  That  drama  ,  he  was  slammed  into  therapy  sessions  &  had  to  cancel  his  debut  tour  which  he  was  not  happy  abt  but  🤷🏼‍♀️ that’s  what  happens  when  u  do  stupid  shit  atlas

so  yeah  ,  he’s  been  going  through  it  the  past  few  months  ,  facing  his  worst  fears  etc  but  eventually  he’s  getting  BETTER

he  was  well  enough  to  take  part  in  fashion  month  so  i’d  say  he’s  doing  good  !

his  relationship  with  his  dad  is  improving  ??  not  Improved  but  after  his  overdose  his  dad  stop  being  pushy  &  atlas  realised  that  he’s  been  a  dick  to  him  too  so  they’re  on  the  mend

they  even  struck  a  deal  that  i’ll  tell  y’all  abt  later

um  ??  is  that  it  ??  i  think  SFGKJDG  WE’LL  SEE

┈´    ›    𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒    .

𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁  𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱(𝘀)  :  the  people  except  from  his  sisters  who  understand  him  perhaps  better  than  he  even  understands  himself  .  they’re  like  two  peas  in  a  pod  ,  where  one  goes  the  other  is  soon  to  follow    &    there  isn’t  a  lot  that  they  wouldn’t  do  for  each  other  .    (    mariana  cavello  ,  giovanni  narciso  .    )

𝗲𝘅𝗲𝘀  :  ok  so  atlas  has  a  lot  of  exes  ,  either  on  good  or  bad  terms  ,  for  a  short  period  of  time  or  a  long  period  of  time  .  this  can  either  be  angsty  or  where  they  broke  up    &    are  now  friends    !    (    mariana  cavello  ,  open.    )

𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗱  𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀  :  basically  his  first  girlfriend    !    their  parents  are  friends    &    basically  set  this  up  like  parents  sometimes  do  ,  thinking  they  know  best    &    they  dated  for  a  good  portion  of  their  life    (    think  nate    &    blair    )    but  in  high  school  ,  when  atlas  had  a  change  of  heart  he  wasn’t  sure  what  he  felt  for  her  was  real  so  he  broke  it  off  without  any  explanation  like  the  dumbass  he  is  .    (    eden  lane.    )

𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀  :  atlas’s  penthouse  is  huge  ,  too  big  for  just  one  person  to  live  in  so  it’s  highly  possible  that  he  has  a  roommate  or  two    !    (    alanna  deniro    )

𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗲𝘀  :  sometimes  they  like  each  other  ,  sometimes  they’re  bickering  like  there’s  no  tomorrow  .    (    open.    )

𝗲𝘅- 𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴  :  he  doesn’t  really  do  these  anymore  bc  he’s  🥰  but  he  definitely  has  had  a  few  of  these  in  the  past    !    they  never  really  put  a  label  on  anything  ,  it  was  a  bit  of  fun  but  then  they  decided  to  end  it  for  whatever  reason.    !    (    kylie  castillo.    )

𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗱  :  i  forgot  what  i  was  gonna  type  here  djgkgjg  but  yes    !    please    !    (   open.    )

𝗲𝘅  𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁  𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀  :  there  was  a  time  where  the  pair  were  inseparable  .  they’d  go  everywhere  together  ,  do  everything  together    &    were  as  close  as  family  .  until  one  day  one  of  them  did  something  to  hurt  the  other  ,    &    now  they  can’t  stand  each  other  .    (    open.    )

𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹  𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿  :  they’re  always  bumping  into  each  other  .  no  matter  the  place  ,  time  ,  or  reason  why  they’re  there  ,  these  two  are  always  finding  company  in  each  other  in  the  strangest  of  places    &    now  they  have  a  strange  friendship  .    (    open.    )

𝗼𝗻𝗲  𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁  𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱  :  they  got  drunk  one  night    &    ended  it  hooking  up  .  it  would’ve  been  fine  ,  if  atlas  hadn’t  left  their  apartment  in  the  middle  of  the  night  without  saying  a  word  ,  so  now  it’s  just  awkward  .    (    nova  reign.    )

𝗯𝗮𝗱  𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲  𝗼𝗻  :  they  work  together  on  campaigns  which  often  lead  to  long  days  ,    &    atlas  being  atlas  ,  is  constantly  trying  to  think  of  reasons  to  get  drunk    &    this  poor  person  is  always  being  dragged  into  his  bad  habits  .    (    open.    )

𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱  𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲  :  atlas  is  the  sort  of  person  who’s  always  making  bad  decisions    &    as  a  result  can  be  quite  pessimistic  .  despite  him  constantly  trying  to  antagonize  them  ,  this  person  serves  as  a  good  influence  on  him  so  their  friendship  ,  however  strangely  surprising  is  something  of  a  miracle  .    (    open.    )

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲  𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽  :  although  atlas  taking  things  seriously  is  sometimes  a  task  in  itself  ,  when  it  comes  to  his  friends  he’ll  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  for  them  ,  especially  for  this  person  .  he  won’t  see  anything  bad  happen  to  them    &    will  always  have  their  back  no  matter  what  .    (    vera  bantini.    )

𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹  𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆  /  𝘄𝗼𝗻’𝘁  𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆  :  she  knew  his  sisters  first  ,    &    when  they  met  for  the  first  time  at  atlas’s  parents  yacht  party  in  2015  they  developed  some  sort  of  flirtationship  .  over  the  years  ,  what  was  once  harmless  flirting  became  something  much  more  than  that    &    it’s  now  at  the  point  where  they’re  on  the  verge  of  dating  but  haven’t  made  it  official  yet  .    (    violet  lennox.    )

𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗲  𝗼𝗿  𝗱𝗶𝗲  :  be  it  racing  or  anything  sporadically  reckless  ,  these  pair  do  it  together    &    have  earned  quite  a  name  for  themselves  .  whether  they  get  caught or  not  ,  they’re  in  it  for  a  good  time  not  a  long  time    &    at  the  times  that  they  find  themselves  behind  jail  cells  ,  at  least  they  have  millions  of  dollars  to  bail  them  out  .    (    lennon  james.    )

𝘁𝗵𝗲  𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘂𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿  :  this  person  dragged  atlas  into  a  world  that  he’s  been  stuck  in  since  high  school  .  he  joined  their  group  of  friends  in  sophomore  year    &    it  was  here  where  his  reputation  started  to  build  .  although  he  knows  he  shouldn’t  ,  he  feels  grateful  for  them  because  it  was  at  this  time  that  he  realised  he  should  do  what  he  wants    &    not  give  a  damn  about  what  anyone  thinks  .    (    open.    )

[impracticaldemon]

Nalu Fluff Week 2017 Within the Law, Chapter 2

fanfiction by impracticaldemon Words: ~3000 | Also on FFnet | AO3 (coming soon) | CH. 1

Author's Note:

Chapter 2 of Within the Law is based on the Day 4 prompt "History", with several nods to the Day 1 prompt "Soulmates".

I'd like to thank everyone who is reading, following and liking this story so far, with special thanks to those who have taken a moment to drop me a line to tell me what they think of the story. 

Chapter 2—Friend or Foe?

Prompt: History

I—Scrutiny

The interview did not go at all as Lucy expected. For one thing, it was a great deal more informal than any interview she'd ever had for a job (other than one for a paper route that her father wouldn't let her keep). The real shock, however, was finding out that the law firm of Makarov & Vermilion—known to lawyers as Fairy Tail—had a history with her family.

The room was more or less what she had envisioned—corporate-Fiore standard boardroom with an oval table, big comfortable chairs, and fully updated with the newest in lacrima technology. The artwork was a little unusual, and appeared to have been contributed by various members of the firm, since there wasn't any cohesion or similarity between the pieces that she could make out. Lucy couldn't help but glance at Natsu when her eyes caught what appeared to be an original Star Wars movie poster in all its kitschy, late- seventies glory, mounted in a place of honour on one wall. Natsu gave her two thumbs up, apparently aware of her interest—in the poster—and Lucy found herself smiling.

"That's the slightly more common version, of course," he stage whispered to her as she sat down in her designated spot. "But I have the Type A poster at home."

Lucy had no idea what he was talking about; apparently Natsu was an even bigger geek than she was. Also… was that a pick-up line? Gray either shared her concern or saw her expression. He punched Natsu none-too-lightly on the shoulder.

"Seriously, Pepto B? Lucy's here for a job interview and you sound like some kind of nerdy pick-up artist."

"What the hell, Gray?! I just thought she'd like to know—I mean she can recognize an Imperial Destroyer-class capital ship when she sees one!"

"So could anyone who's known you for at least five minutes," argued Gray, unconsciously pushing back his sleeves. His pale blue shirt was now unbuttoned most of the way down his chest, revealing a stylized silver sword on a matching chain around his neck—and some very nice muscle, and part of a dark blue tattoo.

Lucy saw Erza Scarlet, the firm's youngest-ever managing partner start to tense at the childish behaviour. She leaned forward, but Makarov Dreyar, the firm's senior partner, shook his head at her slightly, and Ms. Scarlet sighed but didn't intervene. Lucy wondered just how often this kind of thing went on around Fairy Tail. Were they at least more professional around clients? And did their lead forensic specialist really need to show off his chest like that? Lucy found herself looking back at Natsu in the hope that maybe this was a common habit for Fairy Tail guys. Hope?! Did I really just think that? Ugh! This is getting out of hand.

Ignoring Ms. Scarlet's glare, Natsu poked Gray in the chest with a forefinger. It didn't look like much, but Gray almost fell out of his chair.

"Hah!" crowed Natsu. "Shows what you know, Stripper! Lucy hadn't known me for five minutes yet!" He beamed at Lucy, who once again felt like a deer caught in particularly attractive headlights. She scrambled to get her wits together, her task made harder as Natsu reached up and loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar. Mercifully, he stopped with just one button.

"… I guess not," she ventured. "At least, I know it wasn't for very long."

Gray leaned forward toward Natsu with a predatory smirk. "Thought so. You didn't go fetch Lucy like you were supposed to, did you? I'll bet you ran home to let Plue out, set Happy to keep an eye on him, and then—let's see—you had to rush back here because you can't stand riding the subway. You know, I thought it was strange that Lucy got caught in the rain."

Lucy felt a blush starting—why had she lied to cover up for Natsu? Then she discovered that nobody else seemed especially upset, although Ms. Scarlet was obviously irritated.

"And which great detective are you today, Ice Cube Brain, Poirot or Holmes?" Natsu rolled his eyes. "I mean for crying out loud, Ice Princess, don't you—"

"That's enough!" Ms. Scarlet's hand smacked the table, and Lucy jumped right along with the guys. "Natsu—we'll have to have another chat about your billable hours later today. Gray, put your shirt back on and stop baiting Natsu."

Wait, what? Lucy stared at Gray, whose expensive broadcloth shirt was hanging neatly over the back of his chair. What the hell?

Okay, so the lawyers at M&V were a little… unusual. Lucy had already known that in advance. She'd done her research—and seen the news stories—so she'd been aware that Makarov Dreyar was extremely short and tended to conduct business sitting cross-legged on top of tables, podiums, bars, and—in one very famous case—the back of a client's expensive and extremely explicit Greek statue of three lovers.

Mr. Makarov had argued that as the statue was a perfectly functional chair, and as there were no obscenity by-laws regarding lawn furniture, the City of Magnolia had no right to either fine his client or force him to remove the object from his front lawn. He'd lost the case, but it had made his law firm known to most of Fiore by the time it was over. On top of that, the client had reputedly been pleased that he and his statue had been on the news for the better part of two months. It had allegedly doubled the client's business, which Lucy preferred to not think about too hard.

Lucy had also been prepared for Erza Scarlet to be a gorgeous redhead who was not much older than she was. Ms. Scarlet was known equally for her uncompromising courtroom tactics and her custom-designed suits, which had a strange tendency toward colorful bows and thematic patterns that she claimed were related to her cases. Three years ago, journalist Jason Khol had commented that if Erza Scarlet ever showed up for court in a regular black or navy suit, he'd know for sure to leave immediately; the case would either be boring or leave people dead. He had also reported that the lawyer's one weakness was strawberry torte with real whipped cream. Looking across at the giant portrait of a piece of cake so deliciously realistic that Lucy's mouth immediately began to water, Lucy concluded that the information might have been more accurate that Jason's usual offerings.

She was called back to the present when Ms. Scarlet cleared her throat and thanked Lucy for coming to the interview. Lucy almost hugged her for saying something so normal.

"I'm very happy to be here," she began.

"Well, that's just it," interrupted Makarov. "You see, we've had our eyes on you for some time, but since we're all very much like family here, we had to make sure that you weren't just applying for a position in order to spy for your father."

Lucy froze in place. This was actually worse than she'd expected. She'd become more or less inured to being courted for her family's wealth and connections, but she'd never ceased to be hurt on the rare occasions that she'd been met with grim scorn or open hostility because of her family's "opportunistic" business practices.

"Oi, gramps!" Lucy blinked in surprise. It sounded like Natsu was—angry?—on her behalf. Sure enough, the pink-haired securities lawyer waded in with total disregard for rank or protocol. "You didn't have to put it like that! Besides, it's perfectly obvious that she's not here to spy for Old No-Heart Heartfilia!"

No-Heart Heartfilia. Yes, that's what they called him—the nebulous "they" being almost anyone from whom he'd ever wanted something.

Lucy looked up when a heavy arm dropped around her shoulders and squeezed. She automatically noticed the high-quality wool of the suit and the fine linen of the shirt cuff. She'd been raised to notice things like that in the same way that others noticed hair and eye colour. Still a little in shock at the unexpected—well, not attack exactly, but close—she mused that she didn't like Natsu's cuff links and would have to choose him a new pair. That thought brought her out of her daze. What was it with him that made her think things like that? He smells good, her nose suggested. She didn't recognize the soap, so it was probably an off-brand—something he'd picked up for himself—but there was a hint of pine and fresh wood smoke that was both very odd and somehow comforting.

"I have to agree with Pinky, jiji." To Lucy's surprise, that was Gray's cool, rather deep voice, and it sounded like he was on her side too. "Lucy lied like a champ for Natsu and—as we've heard—she barely knew him. Not just that, but I'm pretty sure she didn't know he was a partner, so I doubt she was looking to buy favours." Gray must have moved closer, because she heard him murmur sotto voce: "Waste of time with Natsu anyway…"

Lucy looked up at Mr. Makarov, who seemed to be frowning at her. All at once she realized that Natsu was still hugging her. It was nice, but she preferred to stand on her own two feet, metaphorically speaking.

"Um, Natsu?"

"Natsu—personal space?" Erza's voice sounded slightly weary; no doubt they'd had this conversation before.

"Yeah, Natsu, she hasn't accepted your offer to come see your Type A Star Wars poster yet you know." Sure enough, Gray was right behind her.

"Gray—put your shirt back on."

"Oh—sure thing Erza."

Gray's presence disappeared from behind her and at the same time the warmth around her shoulders vanished. She felt surprisingly disappointed, but persevered.

"Mr. Makarov—Ms. Scarlet—is this still an interview for a job? Or am I here because you're angry with my father?"

"Hmmm, well, I wouldn't say I was ever angry with you, Ms. Heartfilia. It's just that your father has a way of hurting people when he doesn't get his own way, so I am… protective."

Lucy stood up, pleased to find that she was fully in control of herself and her voice again.

"There is nobody who understands my father's nature better than I do," she said in a clipped voice. "Am I here for a job? Or a trial?"

Mr. Makarov smiled at her, and to Lucy's surprise, his smile had quite a bit of the same elusive, sunny charm as Natsu's.

"Actually, if Gray and Natsu hadn't jumped in so quickly, I would have explained that although we were concerned about your motives for seeking employment here, we've already determined that you're just the kind of person we want here—and the right person to make sure that past history stays in the past."

"Oh." Lucy suddenly felt deflated. Then her normal good spirits—which had somehow survived her father's rule after her mother's death—started to bubble back to the surface. "Um, Mr. Makarov?"

"Yes?"

"Does this mean I'm hired?"

"If you want the position, it's yours."

Lucy nodded firmly. "Absolutely. I've dreamed of working here."

"Awesome!" That was Natsu, and he was grinning even more brightly than before.

"Welcome to Fairy Tail," said Gray, who still hadn't put his shirt back on. He offered Lucy a slight smile—the first she'd seen other than when he'd been laughing at Natsu.

"We're very happy to have you here," put in Erza. "Please, just call me Erza. If you have some time now, we can do up the proper contracts and so on."

"And discuss billable hours," muttered Natsu.

"Nonsense, she's a summer student," Erza told him sharply. "You on the other hand…"

"Right—got it! And, uh, I've got to get going… are we done here? I mean, gramps has a beer out now and all…"

Sure enough, Mr. Makarov was drinking placidly from a giant beer stein. Where had that come from?

"Fine. Go." Erza shook her head as Natsu rushed off. "That boy… brilliant, of course, but not focussed."

"He's young," murmured Erza's boss—to the extent that she had one. She started to nod in agreement, when Makarov added, "So are you, of course."

"Well then, time to wrap this up," said Gray. He was looking impatient, but was too polite to simply leave.

Just then, Natsu stuck his head in at the door.

"Lucy! I forgot! I'll walk you home, okay? Also—don't let Gray convince you to try out for the hockey team and don't let Erza talk you into putting on a musical. See you in a couple of hours!"

The pink hair vanished as quickly as it had come.

"Musical?" Lucy asked, puzzled.

"Oh yes!" replied Erza, suddenly looking much less severe and considerably younger. "I happened to notice on your résumé that you've done some amateur theatricals, and…"

Lucy heard a snicker from Gray; he patted her on the shoulder on his way out, careful not to interrupt Erza's excited description of the potential for the first ever Fairy Tail musical operetta. Seated to Erza's right, on the conference table, Lucy saw Mr. Makarov smile into his beer.

II—Not Alone

"So, how was your first day?"

Lucy looked sideways at Natsu, who looked cheerfully unrepentant about leaving work early. He'd told her that he'd probably go back later. Unless she wanted to see the poster today, of course. Lucy had declined, citing fatigue and a need to find a place to live in the city now that she could more or less afford to pay rent.

"Well, I didn't really do any work… I mean, I still have end of year exams to go before I can work full-time for the rest of the summer."

Natsu gave her a knowing look.

"I'll bet Erza talked you into the musical."

"True. But she agreed that it might be better to consider a play to start."

"Heh. She wants Gray to sing—he's a dork, but he's got a good voice. He's usually willing to go along with stuff, but he's put his foot down on the singing." Natsu paused, considering. "So far."

"I know exactly what you mean," Lucy told him with considerable feeling. "Erza's amazing, and she's been my idol for the last two years, but she's really… intense."

"Accurate," Natsu agreed. Despite the beautiful clothes, Lucy was starting to believe that he really wasn't much older than she was.

They walked along for a few more minutes, chatting and laughing with surprising ease, when Natsu stopped abruptly and looked toward a park about a half-block away.

"Come on," he said. "I've got to get Happy and Plue."

Bemused, and amazed that she was going with him despite her skirt and heels—she'd ditched the stockings and not bothered with her spare pair—Lucy trailed along behind Natsu. When they reached the park, the white dog and blue-grey cat came trotting up. At Natsu's request, Lucy carefully squatted down in her tight skirt to pet the dog. He was an adorable little thing, with short, velvety fur and dark, expressive eyes.

"So his owner is away?" Lucy asked.

"Yeah… Well, kinda." Natsu shifted from foot-to-foot, his cat Happy in the crook of one arm. "Actually, they're not coming back. But I didn't want Plue to go to just anyone, so I took him in. The building doesn't allow dogs, but I'm planning to get my own place soon anyway, so I thought—why not?"

There was obviously some kind of story there—more old history?—but for some reason, Lucy didn't feel the need to find out about it the way she usually did. She liked the dog—more of a puppy, really—and for some reason, she liked the man. She smiled when it occurred to her that Natsu seemed like a bit of a puppy himself at times. Corporate law shark he might be, but she hadn't seen it so far. She might feel differently once they'd worked together for a while, of course.

A hand reached down, and Natsu helped her to her feet. He seemed a little abstracted, so Lucy gave him his space. Or tried to, anyway. He appeared to like walking close to her, and—again, she wasn't sure why—it didn't bother her.

"How about I give you a hand with finding an apartment?" Natsu asked, after several minutes of silence.

Lucy stopped, since they were about to head down into the subway station, and it would be next-to-impossible to chat down there, given the noise and people. She was surprised by the offer—but not really.

"You don't mind?" She hesitated, and then said bluntly, "The thing is that I'm going to have to do a fair bit of looking. It's got to be nice enough to be comfortable, but not too expensive—although I've got some money saved up, which will help. But the big thing is that my dad's going to be really upset. So I need to look without him knowing."

Natsu nodded, obviously thinking. "So you're running away then?"

"Pretty much. But I've still got a year of school to go so… I don't know exactly how it will work out."

Her companion studied her face and then smiled reassuringly. "We'll make it happen—no problem! You're not on your own now, you know?"

An odd lump rose in Lucy's throat, and she hastily blinked away tears.

"Yeah. Thanks, Natsu."

"There is one thing, though."

"What?" Lucy could feel her original wariness return.

"I really hate subways. Worse than anything." He looked embarrassed and ran a hand through his pink hair.

"Oh. I see the problem." Lucy pulled herself out of her unproductive thoughts. She smiled at Natsu. "I think I can make it home from here on my own, to be honest. Besides, Erza will be happier with you if you head back to work, won't she?"

"Yeah… After I drop off these two, anyway." He seemed a little disappointed, and Lucy hoped it was because he was sorry she had to go. "Well, maybe you can come by on the weekend? Hang out with me and these guys?" His head indicated the cat and the dog.

Lucy didn't know what to say. She wanted to say yes, but it was ridiculous to trust a guy that she barely knew.

"Aren't you going to be working?" she temporized.

"Probably not; there's nothing big in the works for a couple more weeks. Actually, that's the thing—I don't always have a ton of free time, but this weekend's good. That's how it goes in my practice area—you're either working flat out or not too much. I don't mind it. But I want to help you find a place, so…"

"Well, okay then." Lucy gave in and decided to go for it. She couldn't tell if the guy was just being nice—very nice—or whether he was asking her out in a very, very circuitous way. It was impossible to tell. At the very least, he seemed to want to spend time with her. She definitely wanted to spend time with him, although she couldn't quite explain why. She felt less alone than she had in years.

Natsu was frowning again, but he grinned at her response. "Great! Okay, let's exchange numbers"—they each pulled out their communications lacrima—"and we'll aim for early Saturday afternoon. Good?"

"Works for me."

"Also, if you ever just want to come over and study, I can probably help. Gray's not too shabby either, though I wouldn't tell him that."

"Such fulsome praise!"

"I know, right?" Another blinding grin.

"See you on Saturday, Natsu!"

"Bye Lucy! Don't trip in the turnstile this time!"

Lucy opened her mouth to protest—it was Happy and Plue that had tripped her up—but Natsu was already jogging away. She suspected he was laughing.

[END]

A/Note: So, this chapter ended up three times longer than planned—mind you, I'm using the term "planned" in a very general kind of way.  I hope you enjoyed it! I'll probably do one more to wrap up Fluff Week. The story needs at least a kiss and definitely some cuddle time... but what do I know?

As always, your reviews and comments are very much appreciated! You'd be surprised how encouraging it is to know that people look forward to reading your work. :)

Confession time ~ I do have a law degree and practiced law in a large firm for just over two years after finishing law school. I practice law in Canada, which means primarily "common law" - that is, law based on both legislation and the decisions of the courts. The US, and most former British colonies, are also common law jurisdictions. The system is different in  "civil law" jurisdictions, such as Québec (in Canada) and most of Europe.

@shell-senji @nalufever @eliz1369 @nalu-natic @naluloverforever @unashamed-shipper @kazama-hime @sabinasanfanfic  @sanguine-fairy @very-x-vice @walk-tall-my-fr1ends @hakusaitosan @strawberrysweetlove35 @fic-writer-appreciation @ftfanfics

Note: I may not be tagging all the right people; I apologize to those I’ve included by mistake and (in absentia!) to those I’ve missed.

[kxias]

...so, yeah, don’t rlly know how the fuck i got accepted to be quite honest w you??? like that definitely sounded fake but yet here we are??? anyways, hi, i’m red (she/her pronouns please) i’m 19 and i live in the est timezone and i am so, so excited about this roleplay — like i said, highkey was not expecting to get accepted so it certainly came as a shock when i refreshed the main before leaving to grab dinner and saw my post? i’ve been dying to put this muse of mine into play for a month or so now but i really haven’t been able to find a group that i was Down for up until i saw this one ! i am a heaux for uni rps, an even bigger one for the greek life rps since i in a million years would never be able to join greek life (yay introvert!!) and while i wasn’t here first time around, i’m happy to be here now and writing w all you lovely people ; i’m working on getting her stats and wanted connections up so pls bear with me, classes started back today and i’m trying to sift thru all the junk of my online courses while attempting to enjoy my last moments of freedom but they’ll be up soon ! in the meantime, there’s a bit beneath the cut about my baby angel and a few ideas to tide you over, make the heart go red and i’ll pop in your ims for plots ! and yes, i do ramble like this all the time so Get Ready !!

tw: death, slight depression, mentions of verbal/emotional abuse

have you read the gossip blog lately ? apparently, a GIGI HADID lookalike was seen strolling across campus with their DANCE textbook. but nah, that’s just KAIA ZAMAN, the TWENTY year old JUNIOR, i’m sure you know HER. they’re mostly known as THE SANGUINE because they’re very SILVER-TONGUED and INTREPID but also RETICENT and GUILELESS.

so kaia was born and raised in chicago, illinois, the only child her parents ever had due to a few factors — one of which being that it was incredibly hard for her mother to carry a child + rushed into an emergency hysterectomy right after kaia’s birth, so she was their rainbow baby

her parents did everything in their power to make kaia as happy as they possibly could since she had been everything they’d wanted for so long, so whether it was letting her watch another cartoon before bed or enrolling her in dance classes at the age of three after a full-fledged obsession with the nutcracker reached its pique, they pretty much granted her any wish she could’ve possibly had

at age four, a few nights after christmas, kaia and her parents were on their way home from dinner, taking a road that was pretty notorious for collecting black ice in the winter and got into a really bad accident, and this cost her both of her parents

so in her father’s will + due to a lack of any other eligible family members, kaia was left in the custody of her uncle ( dad’s younger brother ) and it was...disastrous, to say the least; daniel had pretty much resigned to a life of forever being a bachelor and fucking around and now he had a four year old niece that he was expected to raise???

her uncle was a trashbag with a few shreds of decency (driven by guilt) in him — he wasn’t going to dump her into the foster system but he sure as hell didn’t want anything to do with her ! so in true trashbag fashion, he just decided to completely neglect her, pretend like she wasn’t there and hope she’d get the hint, and it took her a while to figure this out?? kaia was a sweet kid who went from having a shit ton of affection and love to being ignored and treated like she was a nuisance, and it fucked w her head at four years old

she wound up raising herself; all her uncle was good for was giving her a place to live, making sure she had clothes on her back and food in her stomach, and putting on an act when people gave a second glance their way. the only time he really wanted anything to do with her was when he could benefit her somehow, like keep one of his girlfriends around ( they all found kaia adorable and daniel ‘admirable’ for stepping up ) or when it came to the $$, her parents had left her a little but daniel pretty much absorbed it and took it for himself, to throw more parties or buy booze or play sugar daddy to one of his hookups?? like i said, trashbag

kaia and her uncle were roommates at best, and that was pushing it — she struggled a lot with the neglect internally, and her way of coping was to push it down, push it down, suppress with a smiling face and act like all was well. daniel was enough of a decent person to let her continue with the dance lessons which she absolutely adored, dance was her Everything, and by the time she hit high school, she started teaching classes at the studio she learned at in order to make some $$ that daniel wouldn’t take for his own

the older she got, the more she’d fight back a little against daniel and they had their fair share of fights ( which usually ended in daniel saying something to shut her down entirely and she’d scramble away ) but even despite that, sHE NEVER GAVE UP HOPE ON HIM...?? like, kaia always gave him the benefit of the doubt even though he’d proved himself time and time again thAT HE DIDN’T DESERVE IT

to her it was v black and white, she didn’t understand why tf he wouldn’t just get over himself and be a Family ( daniel is Where she gets her stubbornness tbh ) but despite having a little resent towards him, kaia never ever stopped hoping that he’d wake up one day and they’d start being a family and she still hasn’t bc optimist in the highest degree

when it came to college, kaia knew if she didn’t get out of chicago she was literally going to be sick, there was just smth about the loneliness there that made her skin crawl ( she also hates the winter now so she had to get as far away from snow as possible lmao ) and so she was like “alright i need a college on the west coast and w my dance major”, found crawford, and it was Settled

you ain’t getting my gossip blog secret out of me *wink*

anyways, now that the tragic backstory has been #unlocked...onto kaia

she’s the sanguine, which basically means bitch is a ball of sunshine, which she is — there’s no such thing as a stranger in her world, she likes constantly being surrounded by people ( bc she gotta make up for being lonely all those childhood years, thanks a ton dAN ) and making new friends and going out, she just loves people and people usually love her, she knows how to reel them in and keep them by her side, girlie will do Anything

she flat-out refuses to see the bad in people, even if it is staring her in the face, and this is where her stubborn nature comes in to play?? you can’t tell her anything, once her mind is set on something there is no hope of ever talking her out of it, she’s got to come to her senses on her own and even then it’s usually too late or she diminishes the impact of it?? she’s rash and got bad tunnel vision so it’s p clear where disaster lies w her

has the unhealthiest coping mechanisms on the history of the planet, tbh; she thinks the cure to everything is putting a smile on and acting like it’s not a problem and while that works when one fails a test, it doesn’t work w everything and she’s just forced so much pain and depression and anger down that it is Bound to come right back up at some point, so basically homegirl is a ticking time bomb

kaia’s also a people pleaser, she’d literally give you a kidney if you asked, which makes it easy for people to manipulate her?? and she doesn’t always see when she’s being manipulated either?? and won’t always stand up for herself when she’s being treated unfairly??? she just likes keeping the peace if at all possible

blurs the line a lot between doing things because she can and doing things because she feels an obligation to so she doesn’t let anyone down

ever since her parents died, she doesn’t like to give anything a second-guess — if she wants to do something, then she’s doing it, because it may not come back around again or she may not have the chance to. is the Definition of living in the moment, which is nice in theory, but kaia is v bad at compartmentalizing so it’s easy for her to get off track or ofc do things that will come back to bite her

dance is life, i’m not even gonna go into detail on it bc this is long enough already and like.....it’s just her whole world, ok, moving along

she wants everyone to let her in but she very rarely returns the favor, which is why i gave her the reticent trait?? she doesn’t tell people about her parents or her uncle, doesn’t let people see that iceberg of emotions underneath the surface, she acts like if it doesn’t exist then it doesn’t as far as anyone’s concerned???

girl is one of the greatest friends you could ever have but is a piece of work when you think about it, tbh, so that being said come love us !

and if you read this far: the reason this STUPID vine is my ooc tag is bc i have an ex named kyle who is a piece of trash and that vine is a p accurate description of how i feel about him.....plus it just makes me laugh ok going now

[letterjaey]

Day 4: Orbit

Keith hated the county fair. The music was too loud, everything was overpriced, the rides were screaming metal death traps, there was always a funky smell in the air, and there were too many people. Not to mention, the county fair was placed in the middle of a field which meant pesky little insects which meant Keith would be itchy for days from bug bites. In fact, he could already see three forming on his arm as he cursed and pulled the sleeves of his hoodie down further. So what was Keith doing at the county fair, wearing his favorite red hoodie, what he thought was a sexy black v-neck, the jeans he thought made him look irresistible, his stylish tennis shoes, shivering in the cool autumn air in front of a questionable swing ride and scowling while a child sporting cinnamon sugar all over their face spilled soda all over his shoe? “Keith!”

Keith looked up, scowl completely gone at the sight of the most attractive teen he had ever seen jogging towards him. ”Shiro,” Keith said as the said teen stopped in front of him. Keith had a date with Shiro Tadashi, the hottest person in Galaxy Garrison High School, if not the hottest person in the whole school, at the county fair today.

Ok, so it wasn’t actually a date. Keith had ran into the older teen in the hallways, answering Shiro’s question of whether there was a county fair happening this weekend to which Keith had answered yes and offered to show him around if he wanted and had been told he would like that. Keith was too overwhelmed by the fact that he was conversing with Shiro to properly analyze what had just happened, if him standing stunned in the hallway with Shiro’s contact number entered into his phone so they could work out details after the older teen waved at him and promised he’d talk to him later was any indication of his bafflement.

The guy was a legend. Galaxy Garrison High was practically a shrine to Shiro, if the number of times Shiro’s name decorated the hallways were anything to go by. He had been the top student of his year and most accomplished person in all of the school’s history. Recognized as the top athlete of the school, voted most likely to succeed in life in the school yearbook, chosen as prom prince in his junior year and prom king his senior year, president of Altaen Adventurers, a club that helped and served several communities in need and had become a small non-profit organization that prospered with Shiro’s lead, Shiro had graduated with honors as valedictorian of his class. Shiro was currently a student of Galaxy Garrison University, the top university in the state, if not the country. The only reason Keith was even honored with his presence was because Shiro was a teacher’s aid for one of his classes.

Not to mention, Shiro had a heart of gold. Shiro’s reputation in the city included stories of him being a cross walk guard as a child, staying with lost kids until their parents came, helping kittens out of trees, and walking old ladies across the street. Shiro was better than sliced bread, as Keith’s classmate, Lance, so aptly put it.

So yeah, Keith was overwhelmed. Keith had a major crush on the guy the moment he saw him and he really wanted to impress Shiro. Sue him for pretending this was a date, this was probably the only chance he would have with the older teen anyway. Keith discretely shook his foot to rid it of the earlier soda spill, hoping Shiro wouldn’t notice. ”Thanks for waiting,” said Shiro. The older teen smiled and Keith felt his heart flip. “I’m glad you’re here.” “Of course,” said Keith. Like hell he would be anywhere else when this living Adonis was here. He took a cursory glance around the county fair. “Um, do you want to walk around and see everything first?”

Shiro smiled and nodded. “Sure,” he answered. Keith smiled in reply and begin to lead the way.

This was it. Keith’s date with Shiro was officially beginning and he was not going to be a nervous wreck. He was going to play it cool and impress Shiro so hard that he’d fall in love with him, get married, own a simple house together with a tire swing in the yard, become his trophy husband, watch their five cats play on the lawn, and grow old and wrinkly together. This was not a fantasy Keith played out in his head numerous times, do not be mistaken, it was a plan. A solid, well thought out plan. Keith took a deep breath, feeling butterflies in his stomach as he walked beside Shiro, living legend and teacher’s aid of his class. He could do this. --

He couldn’t do this. “Keith, it’s all right,” Shiro said between huffs of laughter. Keith whined in what he will later protest was a dignified manner because he would not have it any other way. “It’s not all right,” cried Keith in a muffled voice. He was currently crouched down with his hands in his face, completely mortified by the events that had just transpired. So Keith was a nervous wreck. That wasn’t a big deal. After walking around the fair grounds with Shiro, which proved to be not as horrible as he thought, the older teen offered to buy food since the smells had been tantalizing. Keith wasn’t going to deny the chance to have food with Shiro and so they went to the food area and perused the options. Shiro had settled on purchasing a tray of cheese fries for the two to share and Keith had been grateful. The butterflies in his stomach had decided to turn into a churning mass of nerves by this point. Food would probably help settle Keith’s stomach, of course. Keith had also figured it would be brilliant to buy a large milkshake since he didn’t want to be rude and eat all of Shiro’s fries. Completely stuffed by fair food to feel any anxiousness, Keith suggested to Shiro that they should go on the rides after they dumped their empty condiment containers in the trash. Rides were typically romantic and Keith was going to romance the heck out of Shiro. The two had purchased tickets which Shiro insisted on paying for. That’s when Shiro saw it, the Voltron Orbiter.

The Voltron Orbiter was a typical spinning ride but with the use of the late 80s show of Voltron as its theme. The center of the machine was built to look like the villain of the show, Zarkon, with the carts on each of the arms designed to look like each of the lions that formed the hero, Voltron. It was a pretty good approximation of what was on the show, not that Keith had spent a week last month marathoning the series because Shiro had mentioned it in passing. Keith had a life.

”Oh man, Voltron! I haven’t seen that show in ages,” Shiro said, face clearly reminiscing while Keith stared on in wonderment at how such a being like him could exist. Shiro turned to face Keith, startling the boy out of his admiration, and asked, “Can we go on that one?” ”Yeah, sure,” Keith answered automatically, watching the varying colors of the ride’s lions blur together at an alarming rate. He watched as what he recognized to be one of his classmates, Hunk, puked into the nearest trashcan immediately after exiting the ride. "We can go on that one.” Keith knew going on the ride was a bad idea the moment he got in line. However, Shiro convinced him otherwise. No, the older teen didn’t say anything, it was the look on his face as he talked about watching Voltron in his younger years that had Keith staying in line instead sprinting in the other direction. Keith would bet his life that Shiro’s happy face could bring world peace if it was broadcasted around the world. Of course, Shiro picked the Black Lion once they were allowed to board the ride. It suited him. Keith had a preference for the Red Lion but he wasn’t going to complain, especially when he was comfortably pressed up against Shiro’s side in the seat and could feel how wonderfully built the teen was.

“Do you want to pilot the lion?” Shiro asked, pointing to the joystick between the two of them that was used to control the height of the lion during the ride. Keith told the older teen that he could control it, knowing himself to probably be too distracted by their proximity to navigate the lion properly. Keith vaguely recalled hearing the safety instructions to keep all hands and personal in the ride at all times as an awfully cheery man with a bright orange mustache came around to test the safety bar that came down across their laps. Keith felt the jerk of the ride as it started, thinking it wasn’t as bad as he thought as the lions began to lift in the air and begin its rotations around Zarkon. Shiro was gently guiding the Black Lion up and down through the air, laughing while Keith had a death grip on the safety bar, his stomach doing flips from hearing Shiro’s laugh or from adrenaline. It was hard to tell. That’s when the lions lurched forward and Keith realized his mistake. The ride picked up incredible speed and along with Shiro’s expert navigation of rapidly raising and dropping the Black Lion, Keith realized very soon what was going to happen. Shiro had been whooping in mirth when he looked over at Keith, realizing his companion had gone completely quiet.

Shiro asked, “Keith, are you ok?” He watched Keith in concern and Keith was once again struck by wonderment at how Shiro was created by a series of random events that allowed him to be real in this moment. This was his chance, before everything was ruined by space lions hurtling around a demented alien, Keith should confess to Shiro. Keith opened his mouth. “I shouldn’t have had that milkshake,” Keith said before his body involuntarily rid the drink from his stomach all over his crush’s lap. Which brings us to now, with Keith trying to fold in on himself and disappear into a self-made black hole while he had waited for Shiro to clean himself in the bathroom, surprised to find that the other teen hadn’t climbed out the bathroom window and escaped into the night after being barfed all over. “I should have stopped you from getting that milkshake,” Shiro said, holding a hand out to Keith. “I knew that was a bad idea but I was distracted.” The younger teen peered up at the older teen, aware that his face was the same shade as his hoodie, and took the hand. He was helped up and stood in front of Shiro but refused to look his crush in the eyes.  “I should have known better,” Keith said. “Hey,” Shiro said gently. He had moved so he was within sight of Keith and Keith couldn’t help but look back at him. Shiro’s face was open and understanding and it was hard to ignore. Well, his face was always hard to ignore. It was practically sculpted by the masters if his handsome, chiseled features were anything to go by. “It’s ok. It happens.” “Yeah, but,” Keith started. Everything was ruined. He made a fool of himself and reduced his chances of any sort of relationship with Shiro to nothing. He had wanted to make the most of this opportunity. It was so frustrating to know he had messed up, all because he couldn’t control his nerves. Keith hated the county fair. “I hate the county fair,” Keith said bitterly. Shiro chuckled. “Hey, I had a good time,” Shiro said, squeezing Keith’s hand that he was still holding. “No,” Keith said, all of his emotions and disappointments boiling over, “I actually really hate the county fair. It’s too loud, everything is overpriced, the rides look like they’re being held together by duct tape, there’s always a weird smell, and there’s too many people. And look!” Keith held his wrist out to reveal two more itchy bug bites that had recently formed. “I hate this place,” Keith said. “Oh,” Shiro answered, sounding disappointed. “I didn’t know.” Keith grimaced. This sucked. But Keith had hoped he could impress Shiro and win him over. Or at least ask for a real date. Keith scoffed at himself. As if that was going to happen.

“But I thought-” Keith said, voice sounding small to his ears, the same way he felt now, standing in front of Shiro, “You wanted to know about it. And then you said you’d like me to show you around and I thought- I don’t know, I could impress you.” Keith looked up to find Shiro staring at him intently. He felt his cheeks warm and blurted out, “I just wanted you to like me.” Because I really like you. Keith felt his whole face flush a deeper red and looked down at his shoes, noticing the soda stain from earlier had set. “Ah,” Shiro said. Keith looked back up at the odd noise and found Shiro blushing, which Keith was certain could make an angel fall from heaven- wait. Why was he blushing? “Oh my god,” Keith said, feeling the color drain from his face as he realized what happened. He just made a fool of himself in front of his crush, Shiro Tadashi. “I said that out loud. Kill me now.” Shiro laughed, which only caused Keith to become flustered. “No,” Shiro said, grabbing Keith’s other hand with his. They were standing so close now and wow Shiro smelled nice. Keith had to make an effort to stay put despite wanting to flee into the fields and never return. “I’m glad you said that.” “Um, you’re welcome?” Keith said, mentally beating himself up for his response. He was unsure of what to do. Impressing people was so hard, he had no idea why he thought he could do it tonight of all nights. Shiro was still here so though so that must count as something, Keith thought hopefully. Shiro smiled at Keith fondly which did things to Keith.

“I really like you, too,” Shiro confessed. Oh. Oh, that did things to Keith as well. “Ok,” Keith said, marveling at his crush. “That’s nice.” Shiro laughed and next thing Keith knew, he was being pulled into a warm embrace. Keith may have teared up a little, overcome by the realization that he hadn’t screwed up and  that his crush actually liked him back. This was not how he planned on getting Shiro to fall for him, but this was still perfect. “How about I win you a prize, we ride the Ferris wheel, and then I make sure you get home safely?” Shiro said, releasing Keith from his arms and moved to hold Keith’s hand instead. “I promise not to go on the Voltron Orbiter again,” Shiro added in a teasing tone. “Ok,” Keith answered. Of all the things that happened today, Keith would have never expected this outcome. Going on rides with a full stomach? Keith had lost his mind. He thought about what Shiro was like throughout the night, a perfect companion, when another thought occurred to him. Was Shiro romancing him the whole time? Had he not noticed? He paused. “Does this mean this is a date?” Shiro laughed and leaned forward to place a kiss on Keith’s forehead. Shiro whispered against his head, his breath warm against Keith’s skin, “It’s a date.” Keith didn’t hate the county fair so much after that.

[brielikethecheeese]

No Hello Without Hell

I took this pic back in December, and thought .. it’ll be a perfect transition into the new year. I can’t wait to write about saying hello to all of the blessings in store for me and my team! It’ll be a cute little post, a perfect reset button, encouraging those around me to welcome what’s to come with open arms. Little did I know that the events to follow would leave me paralyzed, completely depleting my inspiration, and this pic would sit in my photos for months until my heart could write about what’s really on my mind.

On New Years Day, at 12:01, I sent my Aunt Stephanie a text message. “Happy New Year!!! Thank you for being an amazing aunt to me! I love you. 2018 is our beeeeeyotchhhhhh! Her response: “I love you, Brie. Read Isaiah 43:19.

I fumbled around my bible app, read the scripture, screenshot it so we could talk about it when I saw her again, and danced the night away.

One month later, I received a phone call from my mom. I thought it was strange because it was 10:00 a.m. and she knew I was in class, but I answered anyway. “Hello?! Mama, you won’t believe what just happened.. we had a fire drill and some of my kids went out one door and some ran out of the other. I seriously think we had the worst exit time in history and - -“

“Brie, I’m going to need you to hold it together.” It was in that moment, I felt the lump begin to form in my throat. My knees began to shake and crumble as I stumbled to the door of my classroom.

“My sister’s gone.” I heard my mother wail into the phone and I felt the weight of what felt like the pain of my ancestors come crashing through the receiver. One last feeble attempt to make it out of the door so as not to scare my kids was in vain, as my legs gave way and I went crashing down to the cold, unforgiving, floor.

Emotionally, I never really got up from that floor, but then, today I was looking back through old photos and I saw this. . “Hola” the sign reads in loopy cursive writing. The big lights are worn and the messy, uncleared table hints at a good time, among friends? Maybe even lovers! Who knows. .

I had such clever, witty, things to say back on December 31 when this picture was taken, but that was then. . this is now, and pain changes your perspective.

I am going to be the first to say that I am still not okay with my aunt not being here. I’m moody, a little depressed, and I cry almost daily. I scour the internet for random facts about what the brain feels 30 minutes after death, and read stories of people who have died and come back to try to understand what my aunt felt moments after she took her last breath. I’ve asked questions, I’ve read scriptures, and I’m still in the process of coming to terms with it and finding peace. But here is where I am. Before I begin though , I’ll need to give a bit of background information.

Among youth, most often the Black American youth, the term Holla” means “I’ll talk to you later!” Sometimes, depending on the tone of voice, it can mean “See you for good, and I’m not messed up about it because you were no good for me anyway.”

To take an “L”, is short for taking a loss. It’s typically used when a person has been in a situation where the outcome does not end in their favor. For example, you may take an “L” by staying late for work, but not getting paid overtime. You can take an “L” by dating someone who ends up cheating on you and doing you wrong. The “loss” here is your time and effort spent on your significant other.

Now, examine the words Holla v. Hola— what is the difference? It’s the “L” . It totally changes the situation. Often times, we look at losses as something to be ashamed of, versus something to grow from. However, with every “L” we encounter, there is a lesson.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with feeling pain. Acknowledging pain. Even speaking about your pain. Not to glorify pain, but the pain of goodbye makes the joy of hello so much sweeter. We need our losses, our “Hollas”, if you will .. to catapult us to our “Holas” — those beautiful, wonderful, new beginnings.

Isaiah 43:19

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland

God, doesn’t tell us he’s doing a “thing”. He says he is doing a “new” thing. There would be no perception of something “new” if there was nothing “old” to compare it to. If you think I’m lying, go to a car lot and check the mileage on a new car versus a used one. There is a difference. I am making a way in the wasteland (desert or barren area) or if you’d like to go more literal with me. . (waste- unusable or unwanted substance)

Basically, this means to me that the places that we have been avoiding, emotionally, the things we feel are unusable (in my case, my broken heart, my writings) will be the things God takes & makes usable again. The pieces of us that we are ashamed of showing- - our insecurities, our vulnerabilities, our pain is what he wants to use to elevate us. But, we can’t be afraid to go there.

Aunt Stephanie, in her own way was preparing me for my “L”. The loss isn’t the end though. The promise is a new thing. I will always miss her, and love her and remember her, but I’ve got to get off the floor. You may have something that is keeping you from moving forward. A pain you’re too afraid to revisit because it hurts, or because it’s embarrassing, or hell.. all of the above. You and I can though. For our on sanity, we have to.

So, my friend, embrace your “L”. Welcome it even. Stop running from it, and stop avoiding it. It will hurt. Like hell. Expect to feel like you’re breaking apart when you revisit your pain. Expect to go back and forth with yourself because you’re opening new wounds. But also expect to say hello to the beautiful and wonderful thing that springs forth from it.

Xox Brie

In memory of my beautiful aunt, Stephanie Yvette Terry. We miss you and love you so much.

[itsworn]

This ‘71 ’Cuda Packs A Knock-Out Punch You Won’t See Coming!

Back in the day, the Chrysler factory guys took approximately two days from the time a body was panel-jigged ( or “gated-up”) from raw stampings until it rolled off the final line and out the door. At the time, they sent about one car off the assembly line every minute. Of course, they had everything they needed to build them at their fingertips, and did each task over and over. For somebody who desires something tuned up to a later era, this is not so easy a process, but Tom Gipe of Cypress, California, went the distance with his real FC7 In-Violet ’Cuda, which started as less than a roller.

“Actually, it was probably the worst kind of decision from a financial standpoint,” he says now. “It was nothing more than a shell with two data plates, a rust bucket from New Hampshire, but the opportunity was there to build it the way I wanted it without straying too far from factory options. It also allowed me do some things without worrying about messing up an original Hemi car.”

So, yes, this is a Hemi ’Cuda tribute, one of a fairly substantial group of cars that have been upped to elephant status since the production cycle on the model ended in the summer months of 1971, sealing the Hemi legacy. And it is a real hip code FC7/340 body, which is a nice starting point to get at least some of the armchair complainers off their game. Notwithstanding, it has been the building and rebuilding effort over the course of the past dozen years that makes Tom’s car special, especially the fact that it is powered by one of the final Hemi engines to come from Dick Landy Industries.

“My 1968 Charger was finished and had won a number of awards in 2005, and I wanted to get a 1970 E-Body that was either Plum Crazy or Panther Pink,” says Tom when asked how it began. “I mentioned this to Julius Steuer and he said he had just acquired a real 1971 In-violet ’Cuda. The first time I saw it was October of 2005 and I bought it immediately. I picked up the car up from him in May 2007, so that took about 20 months to do the car that first time.”

Dick Landy passed away earlier that same year. The engine had been one of the reasons Julius could not complete the car sooner, as the Landy crew had really gone the distance to source parts for a fresh 528ci Hemi build. In fact, DLI had already built the 572ci engine for the Charger that Tom owned, and they chose to pull the displacement down a little since the ’Cuda would have a four-speed. After months of chasing what had become a very scarce MP block (some things never change!), Dick located one in Indianapolis. This block first had to be sleeved as the casting had two thin cylinders, then DLI engine builders—brother Mike Landy and son Robert Landy—used Stage V heads with a marine-application manifold under the Shaker, a pair of extrude media honed repro cast-iron exhaust manifolds, a Crane mechanical roller cam, and JE 11.25:1 compression pistons. The results were impressive to say the least.

“After getting all the parts, everything went together pretty quickly,” Tom recalls. “I visited the shop when the engine was ready for its dyno test. It was fantastic listening to the big inch Hemi spin up to 6,500 rpm and make 694 HP. That was in early December 2006 and the engine was delivered the first of the year to the restoration shop, Restorations by Julius.”

“Then the bad news came that Dick had passed away on January 11 and that DLI was closing its doors. I realized that I was very lucky to know Dick—in a small way for him, but in a big way for me. So am I a snob when it comes to my DLI Hemi? Yes, I am, proudly. His accomplishments are so large in the Mopar world. My car is an ambassador of DLI’s history.”

And of all the things that would later get changed on this car, that basic engine has remained a constant. Nonetheless, Tom found as he began driving the ’Cuda more seriously that there were adaptations that he desired. Again, Julius Steuer at Restorations by Julius would get the nod for this. The first build-up had been solid, but now it was time for some upgrading, and the treatment started right at the bellhousing.

“So in 2010, I had Julius pull the four-speed overdrive transmission out and install a Tremec TKO. This was a great swap for me as that transmission shifted much more smoothly and the hydraulic clutch was linear and light. Plus, since it had more overdrive, the engine rpm is kept down when cruising.”

The rear end is a Strange S60, as the car (born with a 340) originally had a 3.91 gear in an 8 ¾-inch rear end. Tom felt the Strange unit and its Detroit Truetrac was the best upgrade toward Dana 60 strength, and after trying steeper 4.10 and 3.73 units, he settled on a 3.54 ring since the engine makes a ton of low-end torque. The car had factory Rally wheels on it at the time this was chosen, and that era’s aftermarket rear discs would not fit onto them. Instead, Strange installed a set of OE NOS drum brakes from a Ford truck. But a car is much more than its driveline, and challenging the street corners was where Tom decided he would continue his reworking.

“The impetus for doing so came from a time that I took an employee for a ride and when we went around a right street corner, the car tilted so much that she almost flew into my lap. Good for me, not so good for her!” he laughs. “Anyway, I felt that wasn’t safe, so first I ditched the Goodyear Polyglas tires and installed BFG T/A radials. That by itself made a big improvement.”

At Tom’s direction, Julius installed a variety of suspension pieces on the nose-heavy E-Bomb during the following months before the perfect combo was found. This proved to be Bilstein shocks, U.S. Car Tool frame connectors, and Firm Feel equipment consisting of sway bars front and rear, 1.00-inch torsion bars, and A-arms. “The ride feels right in all conditions and handles the corners very well. Of course, this is a seat-of-the-pants assessment, but that’s the kind of measurement that works in this situation.”

That all sounds like improvement, but there needed to be some “sound” improvement. This came about in part because the hobby continues to advance. In 2012, the car was disassembled and repainted with some additional body tweaks. The interior was redone using the latest plastic-formed panels, changing from the coded black-vinyl covers to the factory cloth salt-and-pepper versions. Tom wryly noted they are comfortable, look great, and create some grip for the human posterior. The Pistol Grip is not shrouded by a console and features walnut grips that are a constant reminder of Tom’s late father, also a Mopar man and an expert woodworker who loved to work in walnut. A ’70 Rim-Blo steering wheel is the only major dash upgrade. Even with all that, it was the rumble that Tom really wanted to address.

“I had a custom 3-inch stainless steel exhaust system installed with flow through mufflers initially, but it was so loud and hot in the car there was no way to have a conversation with anyone. I found myself wearing earplugs. Most guys may find this difficult to believe, but I enjoy listening to stories from my sweetheart while driving down the interstate. After I attempted to quiet it down by installing aftermarket sound deadener, which didn’t do enough for the noise but it solved the heat problem, I resorted to getting a stock exhaust system installed which makes it much quieter. The driving experience is much better even though the top end is probably affected.” The only sound now primarily comes from a stock-appearing AM/FM/Aux radio from Retro Radio Restorations.

Tom admits he willingly errs on the side of caution with driving this car, saying it is real fast but he has never pushed the engine to its limits on the open road. Likewise, it’s not built for drag racing either, guessing that in the right hands the Plymouth could be shifted to a 12-second time or better with the current rear gearing. A member of the South Bay Mopars, he attends the club’s monthly meetings in Torrance, CA, plus Van Nuys Spring Fling, the charity Mopars in May at California School for the Deaf in Riverside, and other events close to home. The Charger and a variety of other Mopars, both vintage and modern, share garage space with Tom’s ’Cuda.

“I’m very happy with the results and gratified that all the hard work has resulted in a car that I enjoy driving. It has been done to look stock, but it sits a little lower, has no vinyl roof or billboards, and cloth seats. I added the elastomeric bumpers to maximize the amount of purple, but the tags read this car came new with a shaker hood, color matching mirrors, road lights, and the color FC7. I suppose I could have gotten any ’Cuda and painted it In-violet, but I have this thing about keeping a car’s color original, so for me it was a must.

“This is considered my long-distance car since the engine runs very cool and it has boundless low-end grunt, and it gets a lot of attention because of its style and color,” says Tom. For those who live in SoCal, he adds, “if you want a rush of color, drive a purple Mopar through a neighborhood with blooming Jacaranda trees in the spring. The reflection of purple flowers on purple paint is retina-searing…”

And that is FC7, the way it ought to be…

THERE’S MORE! You can read all about Tom’s custom tuning of this big-inch Hemi on our website.

The 528ci Hemi in Tom Gipe’s ’Cuda was one of the last ones built by Dick Landy Industries before Landy passed away in January of 2007. Since then, Tom has made tuning the carburetors and ignition a research and development project, to the betterment of the breed.

The first thing one sees once the Shaker plate comes off is a far-from-stock pair of Holley 750s on a Stage V single-plane intake atop the DLI-built Hemi engine. This was one of several changes that Tom executed several years after finishing the car the first time.

Most Hemi tributes have this option added on, however, Tom’s car started life as a real 340 ’Cuda, and it is stamped for the N96 fresh-air Shaker right on the original trim tag.

Chin spoilers, body-color bumpers, road lamps, and that grille have become the iconic visage of America’s love affair with muscle. Looking near-stock outside but built for 21st century enjoyment, this embodies the long-gone era as well as the best of modern restoration techniques.

Like a black shark emerging from a sea of deep water, the warning is always there, quivering just above the horizon of the hood. It scares the other guys, and everybody enjoys seeing it torque-twist from behind the windshield.

Foregoing conventional wisdom, it was decided that the combination of 1974 Dart front brakes and the large drums from Strange out back could handle the need for slowing down without power assist. It has worked well. The smaller reservoir is for the hydraulic clutch.

A tribute to Julius Steuer’s efforts on keeping the car looking stock was this Glen Ray three-row Max Cooling core inside a conventional-looking radiator frame. It does a great job for the 694hp Hemi.

One upgrade to the interior was to the cloth seat material, which proved a little easier on the riders than standard vinyl. Note the 1970 steering wheel, one minor noticeable change from circa-1971 purity.

This is the OEM-looking Hurst Pistol Grip, now equipped with real walnut grips—a reminder of Tom’s late father, a seasoned woodworker. A Tremec 5-speed transmission supplied by SST is below it.

After using a 3-inch diameter aftermarket layout, Tom went back to the OEM exhaust system, which may not breathe as perfectly but made the car’s drivability much more enjoyable…and without needing earplugs.

Fast Facts

1971 Plymouth ’Cuda Tom Gipe; Cypress, CA

ENGINE Type: 528ci Gen II Hemi replacing the OE 340 Bore x stroke: 4.500 (bore) x 4.150 (stroke) Block: Mopar Performance siamesed-design block, block cleared for extra stroke, sleeve installation, bored and honed with torque plates by Dick Landy Industries. Rotating assembly: Callies crank, Mopar Performance I-beam rods, Crane roller timing chain, balanced Compression: 11.25 JE forged pistons Cylinder heads: Stage V Gen II Hemi, aluminum, ported/polished by DLI Camshaft: Crane mechanical roller SR-254/374-2S-12, .598-/.580-inch lift Valvetrain: Mopar Performance 2.25-/1.94-inch valves; Mopar Performance dual springs, Mopar Performance stainless steel rockers, custom length Comp pushrods Induction: Stage V single-plane inline 2×4 “Rat Buster” Fuel system: 2×4 Holley 750cfm Street Avenger carbs (0-80459 SA with choke and air horn removed) Exhaust: OEM replacement Hemi, repro exhaust manifolds (extrude media honed) Ignition: OE factory Chrysler distributor, MP chrome box Cooling: MP aluminum housing water pump, Glen Ray three-row MaxCooling radiator Fuel: 91-octane hi-test gasoline Output: 694 hp at 6,200 rpm and 657 lb-ft at 4,500 rpm Engine built by: DLI, Northridge California late 2006 by Mike and Robert Landy; additional tuning by Tom Gipe

DRIVETRAIN Transmission: SST Tremec TKO-600 5-speed kit, RAM clutch Driveshaft: Unitrax steel, custom Rearend: Strange S60 with Detroit Truetrac, 3.54 gear set

CHASSIS Front suspension: Firm Feel A-arms, control arms, torsion bars, 1-inch diameter front sway bar, Bilstein shocks Rear suspension: Hotchkis rear springs, Bilstein shocks Steering: factory Front brakes: manual single-piston disc, Dodge 1974 Dart Rear brakes: manual drums, OEM Ford truck for Strange housing mounts

WHEELS & TIRES Wheels: 15 x 7 Wheel Vintiques Rallye front, 15 x 8 Stockton Wheel rear Tires: BFG T/A radials P235/60R15, front; P275/50R15, rear

INTERIOR Seats: cloth and vinyl “salt and pepper” black-and-white colors Instruments: new woodgrain bezels from Performance Car Graphics Stereo: electronic stock-appearing AM/FM/Aux radio from Retro Radio Restorations Steering wheel: stock 1970 rim blow Shifter: Hurst Pistol Grip, custom grips, no console

EXTERIOR Color: FC7 In-Violet/Plum Crazy Bodywork & Paint: Fabian’s; Chatsworth, CA

The post This ‘71 ’Cuda Packs A Knock-Out Punch You Won’t See Coming! appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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[arcanakrp-blog]

PARK MINHEE – THE HIGH PRIESTESS. AGENT 02.

                                                  [   FILE TYPE: CLASSIFIED   ]

//: LOADING PROFILE: PARK MINHEE …

international age: 25 birthplace: seoul, south korea arcana: the high priestess team number: four

//: LOADING MUTATION: HEALING AURA  …

application one: physical healing — the first application to manifest. she can try it on almost any biotic component, from plants to human beings. minhee is able to restore them to their peak health state by curing wounds, damaged organs, broken bones, or other physical structures, and diseases. as long as the target is close enough to be in contact with her healing aura (displayed in the form of a white light emitted by her body), she can cure a living organism from any harm.

application two: mental healing — this application is more difficult to execute than the previous one. it took minhee more time to discover it, only after joining the ar collective and experimenting with the extent of her abilities. she can heal mental illnesses and trauma by manipulation, modification and control of the thoughts, mindsets, and upper brain functions in organisms with a cerebral cortex. minhee is capable of reversing effects caused by the likes of mind control or memory loss.

application three: aura generation — the most experimental of the applications, requiring of great mental focus and emotional control. minhee produces a bright white luminous radiation. it won’t only surround her, but if projected to others, she will be able to enhance their abilities and speed up healing. minhee can also infuse objects with her aura, to amplify the strength and power of weapons. this helps her manipulate its efficacy. one of the most basic uses is for minhee to diagnose and cure.

overall strengths and weaknesses: — most of the implementations of her skills are on the defensive side. the less challenging recipient of her applications is herself, to the point of being able to heal her own body and mind almost instantly, like a reflex. when it comes to others, there are even more time and spatial limitations to her healing powers. she needs to be close enough to the object of healing, in order to detect what needs to be mended. recent harm will result easier to cure than past one. physical damage is less demanding to deal with than mental one. the more serious the injury, the more control and delicacy that will be required to avoid further damage in the organism. of course, both using her healing powers or materializing her aura have a toll on her energy and vitality, a fair trade-off. it’s important to state that minhee is unable to bring anyone back from death.

//: LOADING HISTORY ..

PRE-MUTATION

i. a seed

when minhee gets downstairs and to the dining room, the table is already set. she is late. her father sits at the head of the polished mahogany table, looking down through a pair of spectacles at his bowl. her brother sits to the right of their father, sipping tea and chatting idly with minah, who sits across from him, on changmin’s left. aren’t they a perfect family? without her. they don’t particularly pay attention to minhee, not giving her little more than a glance when her chair scrapes the floor or when the server places a clean plate, two bowls, and utensils in front of her. she rather have their apathy than their hatred or anger.

eventually, it won’t bother her anymore.

minhee doesn’t pile food on her plate. if they wanted, they could have offered her a small bowl of clear broth and slid it over to her. minkyung and their father continue to talk about small things, but she tunes the conversation out, opting to concentrate on a spot on her plate. she is used to just being, not worrying about what they think of her as they don’t pay much attention anyway, other than that, she’s alone, exiled in a greenhouse. but with minah she isn’t, because she’ll be watching her like a hawk, waiting for her chance.

ii. the germination

“poor little black sheep,” she taunts her before bed.

she has the dirty traits. minhee doesn’t remember but she first spilled black petals all over the delivery bed, where her mother died giving birth to her. she is a murderer, so of course there is a price to pay. nothing works. they believe minhee is their curse and she wants to be perfect. but she is strong, too. it is the sort of strength born from loneliness, born from the tragic poverty of being unnoticed, and unloved. strength held by the desperate, and often the very powerful.

they had grossly misjudged her potential.

under the sheets, she furrows her eyebrows, teeth digging into her lower lip, fighting back the tears. she hangs on with all of her might. a whisper blows past her from behind, like a ghost of winter breeze, catching her off-guard. she can feel it: the time for her to grow into her own skin, to walk with her back straight and without her form being cast as a shadow - that time is close at hand. can i really do this? ten-year-old minhee doesn’t question whether or not she should.

iii. its growth

lessons of transformation: the throbbing ache into power and desire at late hours in her studio. she has what it takes to make the world (and her family) fall at her feet, she keeps telling himself. park minhee is going to be invincible, especially now she has been accepted into the finance development program. she is going to spend ten weeks of her summer as an analyst intern, just like the other hundreds of students working at the investment bank during the university holidays.

“many of us will be offered positions at jp morgan when we are done,” she mentions to her father. minhee only wants to see his reaction for pure amusement. she enjoys watching him keep his cool, while he is squirming inside.

even when no words comes out of his mouth, the park patriarch turns his face to look at her, hiding the suffocating disdain beneath a poor veneer of arrogance.

“i am going to become a successful and highly paid investor.”

and so she does. endurance is one of the most difficult disciplines, but it is to the person who endures that the final victory comes. minhee moves out and leaves her family behind. even as winter takes hold, there are a few tough little winter flowering bulbs that are happy to brave the cold. she is one of them.

POST-MUTATION

iv. for procreation

a shooting star. minhee isn’t quite sure of what is the object that streaks across the sky. it’s a rare event, considering seoul’s night lights obscure any astronomical phenomenon. the begonias of her window box are dying. perhaps they need water, but they will have to wait until tomorrow. she goes to bed right after.

eyes close. eyes open. she is in the depths of the woods, in front of a crater. boiling water is coming out. particles of rock and cinders spread all over the place. minhee wakes abruptly some time later. itl feels too real, so she has to double check that she is still in her room. outside the morning is beginning to stir.

it’s a thursday and she remembers her flowers.

work barely gives her enough time to take care of them. the air is icy and there is dew dripping from the yellow leaves. it happens in an instant. minhee sees her hand veins turn white and glow while all around him the begonias revert from their wilted state. she calls in sick that same morning.

v. by pollination

she is walking around the central business district, after leaving her office, surrounded by the deoksu palace and the seoul museum of art. a group of men approach her, which isn’t different to any other day, except for the fact that they aren’t colleagues. minhee refrains from connections beyond her workplace. she is on her own most of the time. safe and secluded. calls from home stopped two years ago.

they stop her. if they know their name, it’s not surprising. she has exchanged business cards multiple times before.

“do you like begonias?” that’s the question that almost makes her drop her bag.

she hasn’t told anyone about what happened that morning. minhee is secretive and she has yet to figure out if it was real or a figment of her imagination. she can always blame her demanding schedule, but these people sent by the ar collective, think they know better regarding her life. she accepts to talk to them out of curiosity.

vi. and dispersal

fifteen months have passed. even when it’s not part of her occupation anymore, she stills reads the wsj.

if minhee fits in the arc compound, it’s because she learned adaptation at a young age. once the loneliest girl, void of caring or love. everything is about survival. however, she stays because she likes it. minhee finds redemption in her newly gained abilities. a death bringer no more, she is now gifted.

what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. scoldings and harsh words could have withered an innocent plum blossom, fortunately, minhee learned jade requires fashioning to turn into a gem. she watched herself change; her lacrimal apparatus closed down after nights of crying it out. for a little recognition, she would work to be invincible or just to crash and burn. this is why she keeps trying her best no matter the task.