#Bicycle Car Glove

[tmeglove]

Thickened warm half finger knitted gloves

[jaestitchley]

Why is this lady acting like we've never seen a car before?

[jeonstudios]

dextrocardia | 13

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 6k

warnings: descriptions of and talk about sa!!

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 13/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

It keeps raining, and two hours later when it’s hitting the roof in a calm rhythm, you enter the garage through the open door. Rock music sounds from a speaker but it’s overshadowed by the powerful hits of Jeongguk’s gloved hands against the sandbag hanging from the mount. He’s foregone a shirt, his sweat-covered muscles glistening.

“You call that ‘taking it easy?’” you call out, notifying him of your presence.

He stops his punches, turning to face you with his hand steadying the bag.

“Huh?” he questions, chest heaving.

“I said: ‘you call that taking it easy?’”

He smiles, very out of breath. “I didn’t say ‘easy,’ just easier than what I’m used to.”

You shake your head, venturing further into the garage and reaching the bike.

“How do you even get on this thing? It’s so tall?” you wonder skeptically out loud as you trace the black leather seat with your fingers. It’s definitely a lot taller and wider than just an ordinary bicycle.

Jeongguk steps away from the sandbag, loosening the gloves with his teeth as he heads your way, heavy breaths echoing. You follow him with your eyes as he approaches, but instead of demonstrating like you thought he would, he stops behind you.

“Here,” he places his hands under your armpits.

“Oh, no, no, no,” you try to protest, but it’s too late, and you’re already being lifted onto the seat like a three-year-old.

You definitely also feel like a three-year-old because you don’t even try to reach for the handlebars, instead holding onto the little hill in front of the seat. It probably goes without saying that your feet don’t wholly touch the ground.

“We could go for a ride someday if you want?”

You turn your head to look at his grinning face.

“Uh... no.”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

You see the realization of what he just asked flash across his face, but you know it wasn’t how he meant it.

“You don’t seem to value your life very much, no,” you argue, hinting at how he almost died for you.

His face turns relieved, a small smile decorating his lips. “I do. But sometimes, there might be risks I’m willing to take.”

It’s your turn to not know exactly what to say, so you're quick to ask something else instead. You lean forward, actually managing to grab the handlebars somewhat correctly. “Do I look cool?”

Jeongguk’s smile widens, “Absolutely. Even more so if you had the appropriate gear.”

“So… highway patrol? Car or one of these things?”

“One of these things,” he chuckles. “It was exciting, especially car chases really got your blood pumping. Although I think my mom was in a constant state of a heart attack. And the chases didn’t happen that often; most of the time, it was just writing tickets, and I wanted to make more of a difference.”

“Understandable. Your mom, I mean.”

“Yeah. Also, who told you?” he narrows his eyes playfully.

“Jimin. He told me absolutely everything there is to know about you. All your secrets.”

“Nice try; I don’t have any secrets.”

You wonder to yourself how true that really is.

You’ve managed to keep your mind busy and occupied during the day, but when night time rolls around and the rain has only increased, you’re feeling a little anxious.

Standing outside the door to your room and staring at the handle, you don’t notice Jeongguk.

“You know, I don’t mind you sleeping with me.”

You lift your head, meeting his eyes. He’s shirtless again, looking as if he just came from the kitchen. Should you? Last night was very cozy, and if you're being honest with yourself, you liked it a lot. Probably more than you should. You felt… safer.

You hesitate.

“It’s up to you, but I’ll leave the door open.”

He prepares to leave, but you’re quick to make up your mind.

“No, I, um… I’ll just go and change, first?”

Giving you a soft nod, he leaves for his bedroom.

It takes you five minutes to change into a large t-shirt and some shorts and to wash up, and when you enter through the open door, closing it behind you, Jeongguk is folding a pair of pants to hang over a chair. You won’t pretend that you don’t let your eyes quickly skim over his shirtless body as he moves, your heart skipping a beat or maybe two.

“Is that the ring you wore during the mission?” you ask, watching him turn, first to face you and then to look at the object in question on his nightstand.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you keep it?”

He shrugs as he approaches the other side of the bed, the same side he slept on yesterday. “I don’t know. I wore it, then the hospital put it in one of those bags with my other belongings while they took me into surgery. Took the whole bag home, put the ring there. Didn’t wear it because… well, we’re not married, but I didn’t want to get rid of it.”

“Hm, okay,” you accept what sounds like a reasonable explanation.

Jeongguk lifts the duvet, getting into the bed while watching you. “You didn’t keep yours?”

“Don’t know what happened to it, but it was fake and pretty much worthless, so…”

“Ouch,” Jeongguk says, clutching his chest.

“Okay, first of all, you just said we weren’t married. And there was no material worth to it. Second, your heart is on the other side.”

Smoothly–and definitely making you giggle while you follow his lead and get into bed–he switches hands to hold the right side of his chest instead. You guess it’s a learning curve.

“Ouch,” he repeats, “Just tell me if you want a divorce.”

It’s with a big smile that you get comfortable, pulling the white duvet up to your chin as you lay on your side, facing the nightstand.

You feel Jeongguk move around a bit too.

“I think the rain’s gonna let up tomorrow,” he mumbles. “It’s been a while since it was this… persistent.”

“Yeah… Thank you for letting me sleep here. It feels… better to not be alone.”

“It’s no problem; I don’t mind.”

Silence falls after that. You listen to the rhythmic beat of raindrops hitting the roof, trying to slow your breaths and heartbeat enough to fall asleep. Although you don’t feel as anxious anymore, it still doesn’t happen. 

Minute by minute ticks by, and you don’t know if Jeongguk is asleep or not.

“It was raining,” you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “That night when we followed a suspect into a hotel bar.”

You take a breath, listening to the silence of the room, half expecting Jeongguk to stop you. But he doesn’t; maybe because he’s asleep? So you continue quietly, revisiting a memory.

“He stayed there for quite a few hours, so we did as well. We were hoping he’d lead us to his brother so we could arrest both of them for arms trafficking. Hoseong ordered us beer, more so for appearances, but still, and we talked while we kept an eye on the man and waited for him to leave. I remember that we talked about another case we’d just solved, and Hoseong was going on and on about how smart he thought I was and how glad he was to have me as his partner. I was smiling ear to ear, thinking that I was so incredibly lucky, getting to work with and learn from someone who truly saw me. When the suspect instead got a room there for the night, we did as well, figuring it would be more comfortable than sitting in the car all night.”

It’s still quiet, but it feels cathartic to get it out, regardless if Jeongguk is awake to hear it or not. While you've unfortunately noticed more similarities between him and Hoseong than you'd like--like their dark, expressive eyes--Jeongguk feels... different.

“We were meant to do shifts, always have the door open just a sliver so we’d notice if he left. We took our jackets off and Hoseong placed his stuff on the bedside table. Since it was summer, I was wearing a t-shirt and a skirt with my gun strapped to my thigh under it, and so I put the gun in the pocket of my jacket. When I turned around… he kissed me. I was caught by surprise, but I… I kissed him back at first because… Well, I loved him. But then I tried to step back to tell him that we really shouldn’t, that we needed to be alert and ready to follow if the suspect left. But he didn’t listen.”

You pause, feeling the pain and the fear from that day all over again, your skin turning cold. There’s movement behind you, and an arm is slowly and gently draped across your middle, grasping your freezing hand. It makes you feel something, peering down at his hand and the tattoos covering his skin. He’s very warm, and he feels like he’s… stable. Like he has roots growing into the ground that makes him unshakeable. Meanwhile, you’re a leaf; at the mercy of everyone and everything. Easy to blow away, to rip to shreds, to stomp flat to the sound of your bones crunching.

“He held my jaw so tight, I couldn’t speak, and he told me that I’d been teasing him all day in the skirt and that I should be happy because he knew that I loved him. Said I should just suck it up and put out. He… ” you go quiet, unsure of how many details you’re willing to relive. 

Does Jeongguk need to know every step you were pushed toward the bed, how he threw you onto it and got on top of you while you fought? How he unzipped his pants and how he violated you? He probably doesn’t.

“He used his handcuffs and cuffed my hands around the metal bed frame. I tried to…. He said he’d kill me if I screamed.” You remember his hushed yet furious voice in your ear, remember knowing how it was going to end, how he’d kill you right then and there.

“I don’t know if he did it at first because he enjoyed it or if he realized right away that he would need to get rid of me, but he put both his hands around my neck and squeezed as hard as he could. I pulled my hands so violently that I dislocated a thumb, but… I got one out. So I tried to stop him, but he was too strong, using all his body weight. My nails on his skin didn’t faze him, and I was losing consciousness. At the very last second–while my vision was turning spotty–I managed to grab the gun from his holster. I aimed it for his thigh and pulled the trigger. He let go. Somehow, I managed to get him off me, and… out of me… but I could barely see or breathe, and there was blood everywhere.

“He swore at me, and I think he tried to get up but couldn’t, so he reached for his phone, and I ran for the door as best I could. But what was I supposed to do? Call the cops? What do you think he was doing? I heard him ask our coworkers for help, and I knew. They were coming to help him. So I stood there, in the hall of a shitty hotel, with no car keys, no phone, and nowhere to go, while his back-up was mere minutes away.

“Then, someone down the hall opened their door. It was a young woman, and she peeked out, looked at me where I stood, a shaky, bloody, wheezy mess, and she came and pulled me inside right before the police exited the elevator. I managed to say that we were all law enforcement, but I didn’t need to tell her that they’d kill me off if they found me because we heard Ryung’s voice through the door, telling the rest to find me and make me… pay.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been as scared as I was when they knocked on her door. She gestured for me to get inside the bathroom, and I did, watching as she pulled a bathrobe around her body, turning most of the lights off and opening the door to pretend like she’d just woken up. I heard them ask for me, and I heard her politely tell them that no, she hadn’t seen a woman or noticed any commotion. But I saw how her hand trembled behind the door, and I thought the whole time that they knew and were just waiting to push their way inside to get me. But they didn’t. Instead, they left. Shaken, she sat with me on the bathroom floor as I cried, and she helped me clean up a bit and loaned me some of her clothes before she helped me to the hospital across the city border. I stayed the night to have my injuries tended to and documented and a kit done, and the next day, I went to that city’s station to file a report. A female officer helped me, and she’s the only one I’ve told most of this stuff to. Well, except for you now, but I take it you read the report? And the station… you weren’t working that day, but it was your station, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” comes a strained mumble, and you feel him hug you just a bit tighter.

You stare at the wall, feeling both anxious and numb. “It changes you, having someone do that to you. All my life, I’ve known, theoretically speaking, that there’s a risk. A man, anywho, anywhere, anytime, can decide that I don’t get to live anymore. But to experience it, to see the intentions in his eyes, and how he’s… deciding… and not being able to do anything about it. It changes you. It’s always there, the feeling of helplessness.” “I…” Sounding like he wants to say something but can’t find the words, Jeongguk lets silence fall again. 

“You don’t know what to say, do you?” you smile a sad smile to yourself. “No.” “It’s alright, you don’t need to say anything, I just thought I’d tell you.”

You feel him move closer while also gently pulling you back toward him. You roll back, finding yourself inches away from him where he lies, head supported by his hand and looking down at you. “I’m just… furious, and frustrated, and I wish so badly that I’d been there to help you. If I had just transferred earlier… maybe I could’ve prevented it, or stopped it, or even just caught him and helped you get your justice. Instead, I came along and made it worse.”

You find yourself so lost in him. In the warmth of his body that’s thawing the entirety of yours, and in his kind brown eyes. You can’t believe he’s the same person who took every chance he could to hurt you as recently as a few months ago. He just… looks so sweet.

“You know, you look like a little kid when you’re sleeping” you smile, watching Jeongguk slowly open his eyes, looking a little confused. “You’re also always up before me, so I’ve rarely seen you asleep. I’m not really a morning person.”

The moment he comes to properly, he smiles lazily and rolls his eyes half-heartedly. “I’m not a morning person either, actually,” he explains, his voice lower and raspier than usual.

“Then why are you always awake so early?”

He looks at you as if he’s not sure what to say. “Cause… I have… stuff to do?”

“Okay…”

Jeongguk doesn’t address the suspicion in your voice, instead, he stretches his arms over his head. The duvet moves, exposing his chest and the scar to your eyes.

Letting your fingertip hover just above it, you look back at his still very sleepy face. “Did you really never know about your organs being mirrored?”

“No,” he yawns. 

“But… how? Didn’t you ever have your heart and lungs listened to?”

“I did, but apparently, it’s not too much of a different sound. Sure, my heart beat would have sounded a bit fainter from my left side but it’s such a rare condition that there was no real use investigating further. I had a heart that beat in the right rhythm and no other symptoms so that was enough, I guess,” he shrugs.

“Can I listen?” you bite your lip hopefully.

He raises his eyebrows, “To my heart?”

You nod enthusiastically

“Buy me dinner first, why don’t you?”

Rolling your eyes, you feel warm. You meet his gaze and slowly lower your head to his chest while moving your hair out of your face.

His skin feels nice against the side of your face, his chest moving up and down under you slowly, and you hear it. It’s strong, rhythmic, but…

“Are you sure you’re fine, though?” you ask, turning a little more serious, “It’s beating kinda… fast?”

Surely a fit guy like Jeongguk has a slower resting heart rate? 

“You’re also, you know, listening to my heart,” he says, like it’s supposed to mean something?

Wait. Is he… Is he implying that you listening to his heart is making it race? That can’t be true, can it?

You lift your face off of his chest, and for a moment, you’re just looking at each other softly, curiously. His black hair is a little messy, but he looks so warm, and you–.

His phone rings.

Jeongguk sighs but reaches for it where it lies on his nightstand, his eyes widening when he reads the screen. “Shit, I gotta take this.”

He throws the duvet off of him and gets up as he answers the call, and you see him in just his shorts as he disappears out of the room with the phone to his ear.

Following his lead, you rise from the bed, but instead of going wherever Jeongguk disappeared to, you head into your room to throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants. While alone, you take a moment to think about last night. You weren’t actually planning on talking about it. You never have, not in that much detail, although you definitely left some things out. And while it feels… hard, it also feels… better? Or, like you’re at least not too scared of him looking at you weirdly or saying it was your fault. Or even worse, like you opened his eyes how easy it was to render you entirely helpless…

Quietly, you enter the kitchen, spotting Jeongguk standing at the counter with the tray of cupcakes you made together in front of him. He’s wearing a dark green t-shirt now.

He places the phone between his raised shoulder and ear as he peels a wrapper off, “can you ask them to mail copies of the documents to the station? And how did it go, did you manage to reach the mechanic?”

You watch him as he listens to whoever’s on the other side, putting half a cupcake in his mouth. “Mhm, no, no, just book whatever time she’s available. We can meet at the station if she wants to come in or I can go to her. Same for the hotel staff.” 

Is he… looking into your case again? Like, thoroughly following up on all leads and with all possible witnesses? You definitely know it’s not because of what you told him last night; he must’ve decided to do it priorly.

His eyes find you as he listens intently to what the voice has to say. You take a few steps, coming to stand next to him, smiling softly at how cute he looks when he’s multitasking. With one hand, he lifts the other end of the cupcake to you. You take it, watching him as he looks off into the distance absentmindedly. “Alright, thank you.”

You pop the piece into your mouth, chewing it while making a note to definitely bake more.

He ends the call and puts the phone down on the counter. “These are actually really good,” he says, putting his frosting-covered fingertip to his mouth.

You smile, admiring him and all he’s done and is doing for you. A little overcome with emotions, you place your hand on his shirt, pulling it down slowly at the collar and him toward you. He looks curious, but you focus on his lips. Biting your own, you try not to let the fear of rejection win, and you stand on your toes, and you kiss him carefully.

It’s brief, and it’s sweet, and you can’t help but smile when your heels touch the floor again.

“Thank you.”

He blinks, looking happy but surprised.

“What?” you chuckle a little nervously when he doesn’t say anything.

“Nothing. I just… wasn’t sure you actually liked me. Like, at all.”

You tilt your head, listening to him as he continues.

“I know that we kissed that time on the hammock, but we probably weren’t on the same page then, were we? Cause I thought we were, that we were alone and that we had something, but you… you played along because there were people watching, right? You were still acting while I wasn’t.”

You haven’t thought a lot about that moment, embarrassed about what happened and how you reacted, but he’s right. You were acting. You weren’t sure he was, but if he really wasn’t… What were his motives that night?

“Yeah, but you kinda literally took a sword to the heart for me later, and you’ve been really, really kind and sweet to me ever since.”

He grabs another cupcake, chewing a piece of it with a look on his face that tells you he’s… planning something. You wait, expecting him to say something but he just smiles and lifts the other piece to your mouth. Before you can even decide whether to take a bite or not, he nudges the cupcake against your mouth, getting streaks of frosting across your lips.

“What the…”

But he grins, puts the cupcake down, and smiles in a way that lets you know this was exactly what he wanted. Putting his fingers under your chin to lift your head, he leans down to kiss you. You hold your breath, feeling his soft lips against yours again.

He tastes of frosting and racing heart beats, and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are warmer than usual.

“You don’t need to thank me for that.”

And you feel warm, almost ecstatic, but also like you’ve… forgotten something.

The day after, Jeongguk receives a call that has him hurriedly looking through the house for the keys to his bike, rushing off somewhere after telling you that he’ll probably be back in a few hours. ‘A few hours’ is too vague to really tell you anything, and you’re so used to not asking questions that you don’t think to.

While he’s gone, you decide to start the dishwasher, and you’ve come to learn that Jeongguk always has at least one mug in his office that he’ll keep refilling with coffee way too many times without washing.

Approaching the office, you’re not surprised to see the door to it ajar. It’s rarely closed, and it’s almost like it signifies the transparency between you. Jeongguk doesn’t say much about the case, but it’s not because you can’t know; it’s because he knows you don’t want to know. 

Or didn’t want to know. As you’re standing in the quiet room, his blue mug in your hand, you see a disheveled stack of papers. Usually, you would’ve walked past it, or maybe even re-stacked it neatly before walking past it. 

This time, Hoseong’s name catches your eye. Of course, it’s not weird considering it’s Jeongguk’s main case, but you still find yourself staring at the printed letters. 

Three hours after he left, Jeongguk unlocks his front door, opening it and stepping inside. He sighs at how the people he despises most on the planet always just seem to slip out of his grasp. But when inside, he finds himself easily letting go of that thought and instead thinking about something that has him smiling to himself.

With his shoes and jacket off, he begins his search, expecting to find you either in the living room or your bedroom and getting confused when you aren’t. He peers inside the kitchen and even puts his head into his own bedroom, almost starting to get worried when you’re nowhere to be seen.

He’s about to visit the second bathroom when he passes his office, seeing movement from within the small sliver in the doorway.

“There you are,” he comments happily as he opens the door wider, looking around and taking a moment to process what he’s seeing. “I almost thought you’d evaporated.”

You look up from the floor, where you’re sitting with a bunch of papers spread out in front of you, Jeongguk’s empty cup beside you.

“These are the ones you’re observing?” you ask, lifting a paper toward him, a pen wedged between your index and middle finger.

He takes it from you, quickly reading a summary of months of hard work. “Mhm.”

“Okay,” you say, looking at another paper in your hand, twirling the pen absentmindedly in your other, “I think I have some suggestions.”

After spending hours and hours with Jeongguk, having him explain the progress they’ve made and who they’re investigating, you take a step back to look at the post-its on the living room wall. It has all the fugitives’ relatives, their friends, coworkers, neighbors…. everyone. Since neither of the four men have used their card nor phone, they must’ve almost certainly gotten help, but from who?

You sink down onto the soft cushions of Jeongguk’s couch with a tired sigh, reaching for the remote and smiling when there’s a rerun of a zombie movie.

Jeongguk follows your lead, spreading out as well. “You wanna like… hold hands or something? Cause I could do with a good hand-holding.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, feeling your chest warm from the inside. It’s so easy for him to make you all giddy, forgetting about all of your pains and worries. Or almost all of them, at least.

Still, you nod, and your smile grows when he scoots closer to you and takes your hand in his warm one.

Even as he directs his focus toward the TV, you keep yours on him. On his tired yet still bright, dark eyes, his nose, the faint hollowness under his cheekbones, and his mouth. His hair is just calling out for you to run your fingers through, but you stand your ground, settling for getting to hold his hand. 

“What?” he asks, smiling cheekily at you.

“You asked to hold my hand?” you remind, moving his hand between the two of yours, tracing the veins on the back of it.

“Yeah?”

“It’s cute. You buy flowers and hold hands and open doors.”

Surely, a guy like him can’t exist, right?

“I do. Which reminds me, you were just giving my flowers away?”

He looks at you, faking hurt. Slowly, and with your heart beating hard to nourish the butterflies growing in your stomach, you intertwine your fingers with his. “I didn’t know they were from you; there was never a card or anything.”

“Fine.”

Seemingly accepting your short answer, Jeongguk watches the movie with you for a while in silence, your head coming to rest against the top of his arm. You keep his hand between yours, trying to stay cool despite how being this close to him affects you. There are definitely some sort of butterflies.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about as well?” he mumbles quietly after a while.

“No?”

“At the barbeque, the guy that you were talking to? Who was that? And what did he say?”

You search your mind for a second before it comes back to you; the tall, handsome man who approached you. “I don’t know. He said his name was Haneul, but I don’t think he lived there. I think I heard something about someone having their cousin over or something like that, so I think that was him. Don’t think I saw him again.”

“And what did he say to you? You didn’t look…. very happy.”

You recall the way he felt… off and how he wasted absolutely no time, insulting your husband and offering to take his place. You definitely remember the unfunny feeling of actually wanting to have a rude Jeongguk around just to keep Haneul away.

“Uh, he hit on me.”

“Did you say you were married?”

You scoff. “Yeah, but he didn’t seem to mind. Basically accused you of lacking in bed and offering to take your place in secret.”

“What?” Jeongguk asks, sounding surprised. “He didn’t look that ballsy to me?”

“It was before he saw how intimidating you are.”

“I’m glad it seemed like I scared him off then. If he was bothering you?”

“Yeah…”

“So why didn’t you tell me? When I asked about him? I would’ve kept an even closer eye on you.”

That, you don’t have to search your mind for. You remember very clearly how scared you were that Jeongguk would laugh. Or that he wouldn’t even believe you because after all, why would anyone hit on someone like you? Especially a man who looked like Haneul because creep or not, he was handsome. Like so often, you fill with shame. Embarrassment for who you are and how you look. It’s been surprisingly easy to not focus as much on it, but it will always be at the back of your mind, and this is just a painful reminder.

“I… didn’t think you’d believe me.”

He squeezes your hand, and you hear and feel him sigh sadly. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you and for being such an overall disappointment. I want to think that I sensed that you were scared and that’s why I kept an eye on you after and asked you about it. But I couldn’t even tell that you were afraid of me as well, so I don’t know, honestly.”

“It’s fine…”

“No, it’s not. I guess I hope your future real husband will be better than your fake one,” he jokes in an attempt to lift the mood.

“Oh. I’m not… I don’t think the possibilities of me getting married are very big.”

“Oh? Because you don’t like… men?”

You nearly snort. Honestly, yeah, all of your problems and issues could be summarized into that short sentence.

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I’m not interested in marrying a woman, but I’m not… I’ve never had a relationship of any kind with a man–that went deeper than acquaintances–which didn't leave me hurt in one way or another. And I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“I know you said your dad’s an ass, and I know what happened with Hoseong and us guys at the station, but what… If you want to talk about it, what else…?”

“Who else has hurt me, you mean? It’s complicated, I guess.” 

You look down at your intertwined hands, how Jeongguk’s looks so big between yours. 

You sigh at the memory of how… non mind-blowing your relationships have been so far. Most guys you’ve dated haven’t made even the slightest of efforts for your birthday–if they even remembered it–or to plan dates of any kind after the first honeymoon months. You’ve tried, but with many men, it feels more like they want a live-in maid, who provides sex. It's definitely a conscious effort, how you try not to match Jeongguk to what your younger self dreamed of in a man.

“You remember… at the house? When you said you loved your ex, and I laughed because you’re a man and not capable of love?”

“Yeah.”

“I think that sums it up. My dad didn’t care for my mom or me, he only returned when his new, younger girlfriends–whose bodies weren’t ruined by childbearing–grew tired of his disrespectful, old ass. He knew that she still loved him, and he took advantage of that. I guess I was a little weary around men from a young age after that, but still hopeful that there could be good men out there too. Then I started dating and noticed pretty quickly that… I wasn’t really important like I’d hoped. I wanted dates–even just a picnic in the park occasionally–and I guess I took birthday celebrations–of any kind–for granted. One guy got me a bunch of candy he knew I didn’t like, so he could eat it himself, and another guy entirely forgot it was my birthday even though his was ten days before, and I got him a relatively expensive watch he’d been wanting. One guy did take me out to eat at a pretty nice restaurant, but he was also shamelessly checking out the waitress right in front of me. I saw my friends be treated the same way, and we all just… kept trying. One of my friends was in a relationship for four years, and he was a real sweetheart; made time for her, got her flowers, gave her compliments, all that. Then she discovered he’d been cheating since day one. It wasn’t until Hoseong that I truly decided it wasn’t worth it.”

“You shouldn’t give up hope.”

“It’s easy for you to say, Jeongguk. You’re a man. Your fellow men look out for you and women still care for you. And to be honest… like I said, what happened to me… it’s not something you just move past. Wherever I go, I know that practically every man I meet on the street could decide to hurt me just because he wants to. And it would be up to him, the fate of my entire life is in the hands of every random guy I pass. If he wanted to kill me, there isn’t much I could do. Not only do I know that theoretically speaking, most of them are stronger than me and don’t care what happens to me, but I know the feeling of having it happen.”

“I understand,” he assures softly, squeezing your hand, “I didn’t mean it in a ‘get over it’ way, just that I know there are men out there who would treat you like an equal partner and who would like to do those things you described that you used to want.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know, it just isn’t worth the risk for me. Romantic love isn’t everything.”

There is still a trace of pity in the look he gives you when you smile sadly at him.

After brushing your teeth and changing into your sleepwear, you find yourself outside the door to your bedroom. The storm has passed, so you definitely should go back to sleeping in your own room.

As if he could read your mind, Jeongguk, on his way to his bedroom, slows down as he passes you. He turns, looks at you and smiles gently as he continues to back toward his door. “You don’t need an excuse, you know? If you want to sleep in your room, that’s fine, but I can’t say I’m not hoping you’ll sleep with me.”

You lift your eyebrows at him, as if to say ‘oh, really?’ He should definitely stop saying ‘sleep with me.’

He shrugs, “I like having you close.”

For half a second, you shut your eyes, realizing you have no defense against him. So you open them, sighing and dropping your shoulders before following him with some species of critter in your stomach. He chuckles.

<previous | next>

author's note: please let me know if you like it! i feel like this part was really important and it was definitely hard to write because fortunately(!!!) i have not experienced what reader has and while i did my best to portray it how i think someone could react and deal with stuff like this, at the end of the day, i don't actually know and i'd hate if it comes off as wrong or glamorizing in any way. if it does, that is 1000% not my intention. on a lighter note; this is very much a calm before a storm lol

[m-jelly]

Playful arrest

Levi x fem!reader

Modern AU, small town, sheriff Levi, married, roleplaying, handcuffs, smut, oral, public smut, slight hair pulling, safe word, unprotected sex, aftercare.

Levi is having a slow day and decides to hunt his wife down, you, on his rounds of the tiny town. When he spots you, the two of you start a fun roleplaying session together.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @pennylanewrites

The moans you let out this morning were on Levi's mind all day. A craving for your body was getting stronger by the minute. It didn't help that today was very quiet. Most days he had some old neighbour complaining to him about someone or something.

He perked up when he saw you on your bicycle with your cute basket full of goods, your pretty summer hat on and your summer dress. Arousal shot through Levi as he admired you. Every single day Levi could not believe that he was married to you.

He slowed down next to you in his sheriff's car and lowered the window. "Tch, oi? Civilian."

You glanced over and smiled knowing Levi wanted to play. "Hello, Sheriff."

"What you transporting, huh? Suspicious materials?"

You hummed a laugh. "Maybe."

"I'm gonna need you to follow me, little missy."

You giggled. "Yes, sheriff." You watched Levi drive slowly down a dirt road to a secret spot you two went to on dates sometimes. The spot was hidden from the road, up high and had the most beautiful views. "So many memories."

Levi climbed out of his car, adjusted his tight sheriff uniform and showed that he had a semi pressing against his trousers. "Miss, please step off the bike."

You climbed off and placed it against a tree. "Yes, sheriff."

He eyed your basket. "What are you transporting?"

"Food. It's for my hungry husband who I love deeply."

He walked closer to you, his aviator shades showing your reflection. "Nothing...suspicious."

You nibbled your lip as your heart raced. You pushed your breasts together and leaned up. "You suspect little old me? I'm very innocent." You ran your hands up his chest. "Just give me a little spanking and send me on my way."

Levi grabbed your upper arm and shoved you against his car causing you to squeal in delight. He pressed himself against your back as you moaned. He whispered against your ear. "Assaulting an officer, that is punishable. You're under arrest."

You mewled. "Oh dear, poor little. I'll be a good girl, sheriff, I swear."

"I'll have to pat you down, and do an inspection to make sure you're not concealing anything." He whispered softly. "Safe word?"

You purred. "Matches."

"Matches." He pulled back. "Now." He handcuffed you and then turned you to face him. "Now, are you going to talk?"

You giggled. "No."

He pushed you down onto your knees. "Kneel, criminal."

You felt so excited as you fiddled with the cuffs and gazed up at your husband. "Yes, sheriff."

He pulled on his belt, yanked his zip down and pulled out his big, thick and hot erection. The tip of his cock was pink and desperate for your touch. A vein wrapping around the shaft throbbed with each pulse of his heart. Excitement consumed him when he saw you lick your lips and lean towards him ready to take his incredible penis into your mouth.

"I'll give you something to make you talk." He tangled his gloved hand into your hair and tapped his tip against your lips. "Look at you. So desperate to suck me off. You make me suspect you're misbehaving on purpose."

You gave the slit of his tip a little kitten lick. "Maybe."

He tugged your head back by your hair. "Open your mouth. If you're refusing to talk I'll give you a reason why."

You opened your mouth and sucked on his tip. You closed your eyes and hummed in delight as you enjoyed the taste that was him. It made you melt at how hot he was in your mouth. You rolled your tongue around him and sucked hard as you felt so hungry for Levi.

Levi let out a guttural moan. "Look at me, criminal. I want you to look up at me as you suck my cock."

You opened your eyes and looked up at him through your lashes. As you gazed at him you sank further onto him. You took as much as you could possibly take of him. When you couldn't take anymore, you rolled your tongue and massaged him. You gently sucked on him as he gripped your hair a little tighter.

Your thighs started shaking as arousal built up between your legs, your panties becoming soaked. You tugged on your cuffs as your head moved slowly on him. The way Levi's chest rose and fell with each lust-filled pant. You wanted him to stay in control and punish you a little, so you gave him a cheeky wink.

He gripped your hair tighter. "Tch, cheeky criminal." He started pumping his hips and began fucking your mouth. "Keep those pretty eyes on me as I fuck your cute mouth."

He grunted and moaned as his cock throbbed with pleasure. Your mouth was so hot and wet for him. The way your tongue moved against him was electrifying. A shiver ran through him as he kept gazing deep into your eyes as you took all of him in your mouth. He smirked a little as he saw your drool all over his cock.

He groaned. "Tch, shit, fuck. That's it, take my cock. You can be a good girl. Your mouth feels so good." He felt his cock twitch. "I'm gonna cum deep into your mouth. You better swallow every single drop."

You mewled in delight as your pussy ached with need. Your walls clenched and begged for Levi's cock to be pounding into it, but it was so empty. You squeezed your toes as you tried not to roll your eyes back into your head in pure euphoria as Levi fucked your mouth so perfectly.

He slowed his hips and pressed in, but not too far that it would cause you discomfort. He moaned as his cum pumped into your mouth. He panted a moment before dragging his cock away. "Show me."

You stuck your tongue out to show a big load of cum on your tongue. You moaned as he gripped your face and inspected it. You were desperate for praise from him.

He purred at you. "Good girl. Now swallow." He watched you close your mouth and gulp. "Mm, you gonna talk now?"

You chewed your lip. "I've been very naughty, sheriff. I have something bad hidden in me."

He yanked you to your feet and pressed you against his car again. He patted you down and kicked your feet apart. He slipped his hand up your thigh and to your clothed heat. "I think I know where you have something hidden." He gently ran his fingers up and down your slit slowly. "I bet you have something here, huh?"

You panted a bit as you rested your cheek against his car. "Maybe."

"Let's see what contraband you have deep in you." The tips of Levi's fingers lightly played with your clit. As he teasingly played with your clit his other hand groped your breast. He slowly moved his fingers to your pussy. "You're dripping wet.Seems like you really enjoyed sucking my cock, huh?"

You pushed your hips towards him. "Yes, sheriff."

A blissful moan escaped you as he sank two of his leather-gloved fingers deep into you. Each drag and push of his fingers were painfully slow, you needed him to go faster and touch your clit a lot more. The cuffs clinked a little as you shifted and lightly touched Levi's pelvis.

Affection and love took over Levi's actions a little leading him to nuzzle the crook of your neck and softly moan your name against your skin. He snapped back into his role and opened his mouth a bit before biting the crook of your neck. As he sucked your skin he began pumping his fingers and rubbing your G-spot. His thumb started caressing your clit.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as drool dribbled from your lips onto the car. The nerves in your legs were popping and dancing in pleasure causing your legs to shake and become weak. Levi noticed you were getting weak, so he pulled you against him and held you in place.

Your legs shook and started to buckle under you as electricity started to spark within you. Pleasure ripped through your body as your orgasm consumed you. As you became lost in your euphoric bliss Levi kept moving his fingers so you could experience every single drop of pleasure.

Levi pulled his hand from you and licked his fingers clean. "You still keeping quiet, criminal?"

You hummed a bit. "I'm a tough one."

He slipped one arm around you allowing him to lift you causing you to squeak. Every stomp of his boots was incredibly sexy to you. Levi moved to the front of the car and sat you down on the bonnet. He eyed you for a moment as you sat there with the most adorable look in your eyes.

You rubbed your thighs together and mewled at him. "Sheriff."

He uncuffed one of your wrists. "Arms up front." He smiled as you did what you were told. "So, you can follow orders, huh?"

You giggled. "You've won me over, sheriff." You watched him clink on the cuffs. "I have nothing, no contraband. I just acted suspicious to get your attention."

"Well, missy, you have my full attention."

You looped your cuffed arms over his head and pulled him close. "Have I been good enough for a reward?"

He pushed your legs open, tugged your underwear to the side and ran his tip up and down your opening. "You have." He pressed his tip in a bit before holding your hips and slamming deep into you causing you to scream out in pleasure. "Maybe a bit of punishment."

You leaned your head back as Levi dug his fingers into your hips and pumped his cock deep, hard and fast into your hot pussy. A pop of ecstasy shot through you as soon as Levi bit the top of your breast and sucked. It brought him joy feeling your legs wrap around him and tug him closer.

Passion and pleasure consumed him, it drove him to move. The bonnet of the car was warm against your back when you were pushed back. Slaps of skin and cloth became louder and echoed in the open space. Moans became a prayer as they dripped from your lips and your God was each other.

Levi's lips crashed roughly against yours, his teeth pulling on your lip. As soon as your mouth opened Levi's tongue pushed in and moved against yours. A primal growl emitted from your husband as he kissed you with all his possessive love and his cock stretched and rammed deep into you.

Your fingers tangled in Levi's soft raven hair. A playful tug from you earned you a delicious growl. As soon as he pulled from your lips you gasped at Levi. You shifted your hands a little and managed to knock off his glasses so you could see his incredible steel-blue eyes.

Levi moaned your name. "I've got your reward for you, missy."

You arched your back. "I want it all, sheriff."

"I'm going to fuck my cum deep into you. You're going to take it all, aren't you?"

You nodded. "Yes, sheriff!"

He tangled his fingers in your hair and tugged. "Cum for me, criminal."

Your toes clenched tightly as you felt like you were on the cusp of pleasure. "Y-Yes."

He dragged his tongue up your neck slowly to your ear. "Cum now."

You felt the snap, your legs shook hard as you felt your orgasm rip through you due to the command of your husband. "F-Fuck."

Levi took your arms from around his neck and then pinned them above your head as he moved as fast as he could. He panted as he gazed down at you, your breasts bouncing with his harsh movements. He grunted a bit before pressing deep into you and pouring his seed. He bucked a little making sure everything he had stayed within you, not a single drop was to be wasted.

After the last few twitches of his cock, he felt his energy drop. He panted and dragged himself out of you. He tucked himself away before tending to you. He adjusted your panties and dragged you to sit up. He uncuffed you and showered your wrists with kisses.

You hummed in happiness. "Thank you."

He glanced up at you. "Are you alright, my darling precious wife?"

You giggled. "I'm perfect."

He wrapped his arms around you. "Are you sure? I was a little rough."

"Did I use the safe word?"

He pouted. "No."

You cupped his face. "I wanted it and it was incredible. You're such a naughty man and I adored it." You showered his face with kisses. "You were incredible and perfect. You made me feel so good."

He perked up with a smile. "I'm glad! I just want you to be happy and feel good."

"You always make me feel good." You kissed him and hummed. "Are you okay? Being a dom is a lot sometimes."

"I'm good because you're good. Plus, that was a lot of fun."

You nuzzled your nose against his. "It was."

He pulled back. "Do you want some water? I have some in my car."

"Oh, please."

He hurried to his car and returned to you with a bottle. He opened it and helped you drink. "All good?"

"Mmm, thank you."

He downed some water too. "Do you need a massage as well?"

You laughed. "You are so wonderful with your aftercare."

"That's because I love you." He picked you up and carried you to a nice spot on the grass. He sat down with you on his lap and squeezed. "You're so wonderful. I'm so lucky to have you as my wife."

You smiled as Levi squeezed you. "I'm lucky to have you." You hugged him back. "My handsome and cute husband."

Levi smiled at you. "That's right. I'm your husband."

"You are!"

[kwisatzworld]

Uccio Salucci: the good life

December 2008 by Mat Oxley

Uccio Salucci’s good life is living life with the world’s greatest motorcycle racer, handing him his helmet and gloves on the grid, topping up his energy drink in the pit, hanging out with him in Ibiza. In fact, everywhere Valentino Rossi goes, Uccio goes with him. It’s a bit like being God’s butler. There’s no doubt that Uccio lives the good life – travelling the world in first-class style with the hugely popular Rossi, who just happens to be his best mate as well as his employer. Uccio has been Rossi’s right-hand man since his earliest days on the GP trail, he’s like an extra pair of hands for the seven-time world champion. The old school friends have known each other most of their lives and are pretty much inseparable whether they’re in the paddock, partying in Ibiza or chilling out back home in Tavullia.

How old are you? I’m 29, same as Valentino.

How did you get here? We have been dear friends since we were four or five years old. We used to go to school together and after school we used to go minimoto racing together. Of course, Valentino was always faster. When he started travelling around and doing well in GPs he needed someone he could really trust to be with him, as all racers do. Valentino asked me to be his ‘main of faith’ and I said yes.

What do you do? My real job is to drive the motorhome to all the European races. I am also Valentino’s assistant, so he calls me bad names when things go badly and when things go well we share the happiness. I look after everything for him, all his kit, his leathers, helmets, gloves and boots, anything he hasn’t got time to do, I do.

What is the highlight of your job? Travelling, seeing new things, learning new cultures and, of course, being with an amazing character like Valentino. He’s a lot of fun to be with, in and out of the paddock. Of course, we do argue, we argue a lot, like women! The best moment of our time together was South Africa 2004, his first win with Yamaha.

What makes you tick? The engine of my job is wanting to win the race on Sunday, this is my main motivation, just like Valentino’s. You cannot do this job if you’re not hungry for victory.

Is it the easy life? It’s easy and it’s difficult. For sure it’s easier than a proper job, I don’t consider this to be a real job. It’s difficult to be with Valentino because he’s very famous, so he gets a lot of criticism, so you always have to stay calm about this kind of thing. But you get used to the lifestyle, it’s not a crazy life but an emotional life.

What’s your best-ever trip? I always enjoy driving the motorhome on long journeys, like to Jerez in southern Spain. The motorhome is always very crowded, there’s always four or five of us from Tavullia, with me doing all the driving.

What’s the best bike you’ve ever ridden? The Yamaha 990cc M1! I rode it twice in 2006, first at Monza, then at Valencia. Valentino let a few of us ride his bike. It was fantastic, the power and the braking were incredible, and the handling was so light and easy, like a bicycle. But I didn’t go very fast. For sure if I crash, I die!

What’s the secret of the good life? The secret of the good life in the paddock is to take everything lightly, not to take it too seriously. There’s a lot of pressures and if you focus too much on the pressures you don’t have a good time.

What would you swap about your good life? I don’t like it when Valentino gets criticised. The paddock is like a barber’s shop, everyone talks a lot, there’s a lot of bullshit, I don’t like that aspect of this world.

How often do you ride? I have an XT660 Supermotard, I go to the seaside from Tavullia. In the summer I never drive a car. Maybe I’m a little crazy on the street, especially on roundabouts: foot down, wheelies. But please don’t write that.

Who else has the good life? Rock stars!

You and Valentino like a party don’t you? Yes, of course, we love parties, but we’re getting older so we don’t party as much as we used to. We like to be with friends, eat a pizza…

So no more DC10? [A legendary Ibiza pill-popping club] We don’t like it anymore, the people are different now, Ibiza has changed.

What’s the best party you’ve been to? DC10 in 2000, before Vale bought a house in Ibiza. That was crazy!

What about girls? Some people think I’m a filter for Valentino’s girls but I’m not, maybe it would be nice. The problem of being with Valentino is that when a nice girl comes to meet us, she soon goes off with Valentino. He’s better looking, thinner, richer… and faster too.

Was the good life better in 1997 or is it better now? Those early days in GPs were unforgettable, the world championship was a dream come true for us but it was kind of like a game back then. We used to play, we were more natural in the way we carried on. Then we got older, racing got more serious and now it’s becoming more like a normal job.

What happens away from races? I’m with Valentino wherever he goes, like two normal friends, well, maybe not normal friends, but we are very good friends who get along well in all kind of circumstances.

And what good life after this good life? Recently I’ve started thinking about this but at the moment I have no idea. I will worry about this problem when I have to worry about it…

[kometqh]

Return pt.2

╰┈➤ Ethan Landry x Female Reader

╰┈➤ Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, cursing, breakup, angst turned to fluff, ghostface! au, not explicitly following the events of the movie (Scream 6), alcohol, mean and sad ethan :(

╰┈➤ Summary: Ethan has to break up with Y/n, but regrets it instantly. Why? Because to him, she's the love of his life.

╰┈➤ Word count: 3,609k

╰┈➤ Part one

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

He'd done this before; same thing over and over. One victim after another. Something in him twisted and churned at the stranger's screams, their begging, their cries, but a more cruel, a more violent part of Ethan supressed that twinge of guilt. It's not like he could do anything anyway – his dad would skin him, and his sister would take it upon herself to make his life more miserable.

"Please no! Stop I beg you." A voice screeched in his ear, begging for mercy, bloodied hands grasping his own. They were in hysterics, using all their strength against him but to no avail. His mind was elsewhere, the screams becoming white noise as he continued to drive the knife up. Agonisingly slow, too. He could feel the skin cut beneath his fingers, the blade never stopping. "I don't want to die..."

Their voice became all but a whisper, their hands losing the strength they had just a moment ago. He chuckled quietly, before abruptly pulling the knife out, his chuckling turning into a full-blown laughter as they screamed, body twitching against the wall behind them.

"I'll make it quick buttercup, yeah? Would you like that?" He whispered into their ear, holding the knife too close to their neck for comfort. He could feel them tremble, even in their half-passed out state, their fear too overwhelming. A slight nod followed shortly after his words, and he tutted in disapproval, moving away to take in the sight, his work.

"Please- if you're going to kill me, do it quick!" They exclaimed.

"So much demand from someone in your position..." He wasn't impressed, nor was he content. He didn't like being told what to do unless it was coming from Y/n. Speaking of which, he looked around the room for something. A clock.

"Shit."

His eyes caught sight of the moving handle, it was coming close to 8pm, in 15 minutes he was supposed to meet Chad.

"Look buttercup, I would love to drag this out, but I'm running low on time-" He muttered, more to himself really, whilst flipping the blade in his gloved hand, the sound of his footsteps bouncing off the walls as he stomped towards his victim – a fellow student – plunging the knife into their chest repeatedly, choked stutters and gagging resonating within the room, followed by pure silence just a few short moments after.

"Fuck."

He wiped his knife clean on their clothes, turning to a window. His bag was there waiting for him, ready with his awfully stupid costume that Chad would force him to wear later on.

He heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head, muttering curse words under his nose as he awkwardly exited through the window and onto a rusty staircase.

Taking his mask off, Ethan inhaled a deep breath of air, shoving the damned thing back into his bag and instead placing on the wretched cardboard cut-out.

What even was it? He had no idea.

Down below, his bicycle was waiting for him, luckily it hadn't been stolen by some drunkard. Everyone seemed to be drunk and gone by this time, celebrating Halloween.

His feet moved quickly, the tyres spinning aggressively as he swerved to the left, narrowly avoiding a car. "Watch where you're driving dickhead!" He shouted, flipping the driver off in a fit of rage. After a couple of minutes, he could see heaps of students cluttering the streets, all dressed in silly, sexy or actually well-done costumes.

Some hollered at him as he hurried past, others swore as he swerved, his eyes finally settling on the half-naked figure of Chad, sported in some shorts and a cowboy hat, waiting outside their shared dorm building.

"Ethan what the fuck?!" Chad shouted, prolonging the 'fuck', flailing his arms in the air as he approached the teen, "You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago! Where were you?" He continued, his arm wrapping around Ethan's neck as the boy put his bike away.

"Sorry Chad, I was in the - uhm, library?" Ethan said slowly, though it sounded more like a question rather than a statement. It wasn't questioned by Chad though, who seemed like he already had a few too many drinks for the hour it was. He was already swaying as he walked alongside Ethan, tripping over his own feet - earning a few giggles from passing ladies - winking and blowing kisses, flashing his pearly-white teeth in a boxy grin.

In all honesty, Ethan didn't expect to get away with his lie so easily, but Chad was such a frat boy he couldn't keep his hands off alcohol until they got to the party. He let out a relieved sigh as he heard music blasting out of a specific home - the 'go to' for everyone.

There wasn't a single week without at least one party, and that added onto the ease Ethan felt any time he had to go and slash someone up.

Because nobody would even notice he was gone. Not even the people that called themselves his 'friends'.

Okay - that wasn't the whole truth. There was one person that truly did care for him. A small smile tugged at his lips as he thought of her - her beautiful, soft and shiny hair, that smile that made her look like an angel sent by God himself - no, not even that, she is a literal Goddess - he thought, those little crinkles under her eyes as she smiled, the few tiniest freckles scattered across her cheeks. The way she would always lead him to the dance floor, enticing him, bringing a smile of his own to his face. His heart pounded, no, it clawed at his chest whenever she was around. She was his whole world, and she held his heart in her grasp. He was at her mercy.

But their relationship wouldn't last.

As much as Ethan loved Y/n, he would eventually be forced to kill her. She was heavily associated with the 'Core Four', as Chad liked to call it, being present at the Woodsboro event. She was there when his brother was brutally slayed by none other than Sam Carpenter.

A string of curse words fought to escape his mouth, but he fought against it as Chad pulled at his bicep, leading him away to a group of dancing girls - who in his mind - were the most awkward dancers possible.

"Ladies, meet my bro Ethan." Chad introduced, slinging one arm around Ethan's shoulder and the other around a blonde girl's waist, "Ethan, these are my classmates. They're all gorgeous aren't they?"

Ethan grinned at the group, doing his utmost best to look sweet, innocent and convincing. Chad wasn't aware of his current relationship status, and that was okay. Neither Ethan nor Y/n were bothered enough to tell anyone; they'd figure it out on their own.

"Hey there, nice to meet you guys!" He shouted over the music, lightly nodding in greeting as his cardboard helmet slid down and blocked his vision. He was about to move it out of the way, but a smaller hand did the job for him. He looked to his side, and was met with a big cheeky grin. The one he adored.

"Y/n? It's good to see you!" Chad erupted, arms raising high as he embraced her in a suffocating hug. Ethan's heart twitched, his stomach twisted with a tinge of jealousy. He did not like the sight of Chad acting all touchy with his girl - did he need to do so?

The answer was a simple no.

Y/n's hands awkwardly patted Chad's back, her eyes nervously moving from the other girls to Ethan's, though his seemed to have a darker look in them - he wasn't happy, "Alright Chad I think that's enough." She said quickly, clearing her throat whilst backing away from the taller male, and joining Ethan at his side. 

She turned to Ethan, her gaze meeting his lovingly, "Hello stranger."

"Hey there, fancy seeing you here." Ethan said, clearly pleased as he bit his lip lightly, his hand itching to reach out for her own, and it would have if it wasn't for another body crashing into Y/n's back, arms slinging over her shoulders as lips entered Ethan's vision, a sloppy wet kiss was planted on Y/n's face.

"Mindy?! Ewww your breath stinks!" Y/n exclaimed exaggeratedly, fanning the space before her face as she moved her head away. Mindy chuckled at that, attempting to gift her with another kiss whilst fluttering her eyelashes and puckering her lips in, what she thought was, a seductive manner, "Oh come on! My kisses can't be that bad!"

Ethan looked to her, a questioning eyebrow raised, "Are you sure?" He scratched the back of his head, purposefully looked around the room to imply Mindy was, in fact, a bad kisser. Though he couldn't know really. The girl in question smacked the back of his head, a nasty snarl gracing her features, rolling her eyes in the process, "Thanks Ethan. At least I can pull the ladies, unlike someone..." A couple of 'oohs' and 'ahhh's' left the small group, and Ethan could almost feel the sting - only he didn't, because in his mind he did pull the best girl possible.

And she was standing at his side, stifling a couple of giggles.

"Come on Y/n, let's get some drinks." Mindy said, taking a hold of Y/n's hand as she lead her away.

Ethan shook his head and chuckled, sending a slight wave at Y/n, who had turned back to say something, but was far too gone to be heard. He reached into his pocket, fished out his phone, and was greeted with the sight of two missed calls from his sister - Quinn. He sighed heavily and excused himself from the group, making his way outside as he attempted to ring her back.

The phone rang for a long while, and Ethan was growing agitated the longer it took.

"Ethan? Why didn't you answer?" Quinn's annoyed voice rang through Ethan's ear.

Clicking his tongue, he retorted, "I told you I will be busy. I'm at a party, why are you calling me?"

"You need to break up with that bitch. Plans have changed." Her tone was cold, and Ethan let out a scoff at the insult. How dare she insult the one girl he cared about? 

"Me and dad decided to let her live," She took a pause, awaiting any sort of reaction from her brother, but was greeted with pue silence as he anticipated her words, "If you break up with her, we won't kill her. We will only go after Sam, Tara, Chad and Mindy. Though I can't promise you that she won't be injured during the process."

"And if I don't? Maybe she can still be an asset." He argued, directing his attention at a stray rock on the side of the pavement, kicking it, "Then I will personally ensure she is gone. We need you to stay focused, Ethan." Quinn's voice sounded harsh, and it sent a chill down his spine, his eyes widening in horror. He never believed her threats were real; up until now. But she was giving him a choice.

"Ethan? Did you hear me?"

He took a moment to say anything, his attention shifting to how rapidly his heart was beating, how he suddenly felt so warm and self-aware, he felt as though he could feel every sensation on his body - from that miniscule itch on his thigh to the way his hair began to stick to his forehead unbrearingly.

"You'll let her live? If I break up with her?" He asked, swallowing down the invisible lump that had formed in his throat. He's never felt this way. What was it? Anxiety? Fear? Over the phone he could hear a male voice call for Quinn, and he visibly cringed, "I am very serious Eth. You think I wouldn't be up for the task?" She questioned, taking a puff of air, "Dad's getting impatient, and I'm being kind by giving you a choice. So act fast."

And with that, she hung up the phone.

His arm fell limp, and the blood pumping through his veins deafened him. His thoughts raced one hundred miles per hour, and yet did not come up with a single answer or solution to his predicament.

His sister, his own flesh and blood, was threatening what he deemed the 'love of his life', but was giving him the chance to save her life? He definitely needed a moment to think that one over.

A few minutes went by, the music coming from within the house never stopped. It worked as background noise as he pondered, talking under his breath about all the possibilities and pacing around, clearly anxious. Could he get out of this one? Was breaking up with Y/n really the ultimate choice?

He felt like falling in through the earth, down into its very core so that he did not have to make such a choice. He wasn't stupid though - he knew if he suddenly disappeared, that Quinn wouldn't hesitate for even a second - and Y/n's life would be in grave danger.

He couldn't let her do that. If anything, he would break up with Y/n, break her heart and have it crumble to pieces just to ensure her safety. 

"What's got your pants in a twist cupcake?" A soft voice asked behind him, at first he was slightly startled, but then realised who it was. His damnation, "Y/n? I thought you were busy partying?" He exclaimed, hand gripping his chest as a nervous, toothy grin creeped up his cheeks. 

The girl in front of him swayed a little, hands interlocked behind her back as she looked up, "Well I was, but you were gone for so long I started to think you snuck off."

He chuckled, shaking his head in denial.

"No, I wouldn't of left you here, alone." He said quietly, looking straight into her eyes cutely, "Chad would do anything for a chance with a girl as pretty as you." Ethan continued, now shuffling closer and closer, until their torso's were just a mere inch away from touching - so close he could see that dusty pink colour decorate her cheeks. That really did do a number on him. 

"Well, luckily for you, Chad isn't my type," A small smile tugged at her soft lips, and she fought hard to contain it as she spoke, moving her hand to trail her fingers down his chest, keeping her gaze locked on it, "My type are sweet, cute, nerdy boys, with adorable brown puppy eyes and soft curly hair. Specifically, brunettes." She shifted her gaze, now looking into his wide eyes, the street lights reflecting in her pupils.

That light dusty pink colour from earlier? It now turned into a full-blown crimson blush paired with a wide smile.

"Are you embarrassed?" 

"Why do you ask?" She looked at him once more, chewing lightly on her bottom lip, her blush intensifying further as she had indeed been called out. 

"You're blushing. So much. It's quite cute actually." Ethan teased, his hand slowly moving to grip hers, sliding down to interlock their fingers together, "I think we should get out of here." At that, his heart picked up the pace, and nervosity took over him. Should he do it now? Maybe that'll be for the best.

His mind rushed as Y/n pulled him along, into the crowded streets and through dark alleys. Their breaths matching in pace and heartbeats matching in rhythms, their hands interlocked and feet moving synchronically.

Cars honked at them, street lights flickered and light rain pattered down, drowning out anything but each other's presence. Ethan kept trying to think of the right things to say, but her presence overwhelmed him, tugging painfully at his heartstrings. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving her. But he had to, for her safety. And so, his mind made the unconscious choice to let her go.

Even if it hurt.

It would be like acting, he told himself. His ears could barely process the words she was saying, the blood pumping through his head deafening him. He was getting anxious and fidgety.

His footsteps came to a slow stop in an alley, his hand pulling her backwards. Her breath hitched, and she gazed lovingly into his eyes, but he could see the growing worry. How am I going to do this? He restrained a smile, and blinked away the tears that threatened to gather in his eyes, not looking at her, but rather off to the side.

"Eth? What is it?" She asked worriedly. He could hear her laboured breathing, and gulped down the lump that formed in his throat.

"I don't know if this is a good idea..." Ethan's eyes met hers, his heart beating loud against his ribcage. He fought hard against his urges to grab her hand from his shoulder, place a gentle kiss on it before embracing her and muttering sweet nothings and reassurances into her ear, that she shouldn't worry and it didn't matter. 

"You know what I mean," He continued, taking a deep breath, maintaining eye contact, "Us. This isn't working out."

He shook his head, seamlessly trying to rid his head of those thoughts, but to no avail. His heart panged with guilt at the sigh she let out, "Why are you doing this?"

"We both know this isn't working. It'll only end in us both getting hurt," He paused, taking a deep breath, an attempt to calm his racing heart before he blurted out, "I don't love you."

He put on a stoic face, letting go of her hand. Putting much needed distance between them. If he didn't, this simple task would become much harder.

"W-what do you mean? Just two days ago you were on about how you can't stand being away from me! What happened? What changed your mind?" A light smirk tugged at his lips, his nerves taking over every cell in his body - he was scared, terrified. That smirk was quickly wiped off as he saw the pain in her eyes - the one thing he never thought he'd be the cause of.

"Why are you doing this Eth?"

"I have to. It's best if we stop whatever this is."

"How do you know? Are you really thinking about what's best for me?" At that, his anger took over.

He was doing all this just to protect her. He was being selfless, and all that she was doing was making his life more difficult. He hated (loved) how she questioned his choices, never went down without a fight. His vein was visible on the side of his temple, and his teeth grinded on each other.

"Stop making this so difficult! I am doing what is best for me!" He shouted, breathing heavily, feeling his face became hot to the touch, he pointed to himself, but stuttered his words out as his hand almost slapped hers, "I-I don't give a fuck about what you want! Okay? This is over, we are over." Upon saying so, another lump formed in his throat. He wanted to take his words back so so bad. But how could he? 

She nodded her head at him, and pushed past him, bumping shoulders. His eyes caught sight of the first few tears, and his heart shred into bits. 

"Y/n! Wait!" He shouted after her, following in her footsteps, but she ignored him as though he didn't exist, "Come back!" With that, she entered the crowded streets and disappeared, from both his sight and his life. 

"No no no. What the fuck do I do? What the fuck did I do?!" He questioned himself, one hand gripping and tugging harshly at his hair, the other dragging over his face, and he wished this was all some sort of a sick dream.

He couldn't believe he just did that - abandoned the love of his life and watched her walk away. It's for the best. He shook his head, slapping himself lightly before rushing into the crowds, in hopes of catching up to her.

'She must have gone back to the party, right?' He thought, looking ahead into the crowd. Hoping to catch up. His legs carried him, they ran, and his mind pleaded whatever God was above them, whatever fate chose this. The house party wasn't too far, as the pair hadn't gotten far before he made his declaration. Within 15 minutes he was there, his height bringing an advantage to his speed. He pushed through and into the house, looking around in a panic.

"Where is she?"

Sweaty bodies and spilling drinks blocked the path, hands raised in the air and swaying to the sound of music. Ethan received a couple of (accidental) slaps to the face, which helped sober him up a little from his panicked state. He had reached the kitchen, an island decorated with red solo cups and empty bottles of all kinds of alcohol, stood in the middle. And on the other side of it was Y/n, busy talking to Tara and Chad, her lips trembling and hands shakily bringing an alcohol-filled cup up.

His heart broke into a million pieces, just at the sight of what he had caused. Was begging her for her forgiveness now a bad idea? Probably. He listened to his better judgement, swallowing the lump in his throat harshly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so. His hand wiped the forming tears away and he walked away, breaths heavy and trembling as his heart shook. He couldn't sabotage her safety - one which should have been guaranteed the moment those words left Quinn's lips. Though, his sister was renowned for being an immensely good liar - only that part seemed to escape his mind.

I just wanted to say a quick thank you, I am so grateful for anyone who has read Return, I'm thankful that you all enjoyed it and I really hope Before You is up to your guys expectations <3 For those who have read the pre-edited version, this new one has a few minor but important changes. Thank you for whoever reads this <3 - kometqh

Tags: @netey6m

[vomittedsoap]

Assigning The Terror characters cars cuz I’m bored

From a USA/Texas perspective.

Crozier: Pontiac Aztek

Walter white looking ahh… he transports the lieutenants around in it, the best carpool guy. Will stop by McDonalds but will never be late. Smells Neptune the dog and a few fries that got buried in the backseats but no one will help him clean it. Great oldies CD collection in the glove compartment!

John Franklin: Ford f-150, or whatever new ranching truck.

….Social security, baby! Uselessly big, he complains cuz he doesn’t know how the touchscreen dashboard works. He’ll let you ride it but you have to sit in the trunk. Costs like $50 to fill with gas. Plays Fox News on the radio and doesn’t believe in looking at the backup camera while in reverse. Everyone look out!, who knows if he even has auto insurance.

James Fitzjames: BMW Convertible / Mazda Miata

It’s hard to keep track of what car he’s driving cuz it seems like there’s a new one every few months. Whatever the car is, it’s sporty and cute. He’s been in a few crashes but always seems to end up fine. Smells like new car. Doesn’t let others have the aux, he only plays his one singular 10hour unorganized Spotify playlist. It’s always filled with mystery items.

He also owns and has crashed several Suzuki motorcycles.

Henry Goodsir: green KIA Soul.

It’s not fast but it’s SO cute and decently cheap. He’ll try to help you move but it’s no use. Acts confused when someone mentions hampsters. Scrambles to move all the papers and things out of the back seat whenever someone needs to get in.

Thomas Blanky: 1995 Ford F150

Fun uncle car. Really bad shape…I mean it's kinda scary to get in there. Jopson fell out of the trunk one time... It's always a fun time tho. Smells like cigarettes and cold mornings. 80's classics and Hank Williams on the radio. Neptune rides in the trunk. He works on classic cars and Harley Davidson motorcycles in his garage too but doesn't drive them.

George Hodgeson: 2004 Honda Element

(i say this because this is my car... rip). Great for moving, not as great for driving. There's always a bicycle in there. He gets lost but maybe the scenic route isn't so bad. Always drives with the windows down but has a strict "no smoking in the car" policy.

John Irving: Toyota Camry

Real partykiller of a car. You'd think it was his grandma's or something. One time he flipped his lid cuz the others hotboxed it in the parking lot while he grabbed something in the Quiktrip. Gas efficient and cheap, and not too bad to drive. Probably the best car out of the bunch its just so fugly and boring, but he likes it that way. Wooden/twine cross hanging from the rearview mirror and K-Love on the radio.

Cornelius Hickey: Whatever this thing is

[andrewmoocow]

Dandadan but it's Gravity Falls quotes

Seiko: This seems like the kind of thing a responsible parent wouldn't want you doing. Good thing I'm a grandma!

---

Okarun: So, let me get this straight. Your plan is to teach this bear to ride a bicycle?

Seiko: Nah. Come on, everyone's seen a bicycle-riding bear. No, no. I'm gonna teach this bear… to drive!

---

Seiko: And now you know where babies come from!

Momo: Goodbye childhood.

---

Okarun: Whoa whoa! (Sighs) Blindfolds never lead to anything good.

Momo: Wow! I feel like all my other senses are heightened. I can see with my fingers! (Touches Okarun's face, making him laugh before the car jumps, making the two fly into the doors.)

Okarun: Whoa! Miss Ayase, are you wearing a blindfold?

Seiko: Ha ha. Nah, but with these cataracts, I might as well be. What is that, a woodpecker?

---

Seiko: Wanna hear a joke? Here goes. My ex-husband still misses me…but his aim is gettin' better! His aim is gettin' better! You see, it's funny because marriage is terrible.

---

Seiko: Hello, old friends. (puts on some gloves from a briefcase) I've gotta be careful this time. No more Colombian nights.

Aira: Alright, Ayase-sama. This is weird even for you. Do you need to talk?

Seiko: Nothing you can say will change my mind, Aira. Sometimes, a woman has to steal an animatronic badger, to stay in this crazy game called life.

Aira: Or… you could just not care.

Seiko: (prepares to climb out the window) It's about the principle. No one tells Seiko Ayase she's out of the game. No one tells- (falls out the window) Whoa!

Aira: I'll get your orthopedic back pillow.

---

Sakata: "When the cherry petals of magic romance academy are in bloom… anthyding can hadplen." That is so true.

[si1verghosts]

you and me found love (lost under the shade)

re4r leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.3k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking, smoking, sex | tw: illusions to suicidal thoughts; author's general preoccupation with death and dying

read on ao3

title: falling asleep on a stranger by pierce the veil | art: taft bridge under the rain [#127] by carmonamedina

a/n: i honestly don't know if i am doing this whole tagging thing right idk how to tag on here so sorry if i missed anything.... anyways, this is the first thing i've managed to finish in months - i did not imagine the first leon fic i'd actually post would be reader insert but here we are!! i hope u enjoy :D

not beta read - all mistakes my own or done purposely due to my general disrespect for the grammatical conventions of the english language.

i do not own leon, yadda yadda, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chat bot and/or writing generator.

-----

"I can't be what you want," Leon had said, voice even. "Maybe you should try to find someone else; someone who can… be around."

Someone who can give you a straight answer. Someone who doesn't come home bloodied and bruised and can't tell you why. Someone who doesn't make you feel like it's all just a lie. 

You had never heeded any of Leon's suggestions before - "You should go," he had whispered after that first night, and the second, and the third - but you wish you had; so you give it a shot now. 

You let your friend set you up with the guy in accounting at her job she had been telling you about for months. "And get this - he always wears a tie bar! He just seems so put together," she had raved to you over drinks the weekend prior.

Accounting, tie bar, put together. Nice, neat, safe. 

You had shrugged, "give him my number."

He's waiting for you outside the bar when you arrive, jogs over when he notices you approaching, holding his umbrella out over you. It's unnecessary - the cold precipitation is hardly a mist, barely coating the strands of your hair. "You look beautiful," he smiles. It feels rehearsed, platitudinous. You thank him, letting him guide you inside. 

His hand brushes your arm as he helps you out of your jacket, skin soft. You pull away with the shock of it, covering with a small wave of beckoning. He falls in behind you as you traverse the familiar path through the room to your usual spot, settling in before he can manage to make a show out of pulling out your chair.

Same table, different seat; back against the wall - it's a whole new perspective. No longer focused solely on the person across from you, it's as if the whole world falls into your line of sight. It suddenly makes sense why you always found it so difficult to hold on to Leon's attention.

He slinks away to acquire your requested vodka soda from the bar. You pick at your nails until your fingers shake, shifting to look out the windows. The rain has picked up, pelting the glass and obscuring the view. You long for your car and the pack of menthols tucked away in the glove box, nobody to quit for now. 

He returns with your drinks, water for himself - "trying to cut back on carbs, you know? I've been making real progress with my lifts lately." 

"That's great," you smile. 

He leans in, beginning to chatter away excitedly about weights and protein and bicycles and Wall Street. His cologne reeks of business school, of polo shirts and white picket fences and 2.5 kids. You hope you are nodding at all the right moments. His tie bar catches the light of the Budweiser sign hanging behind you, silver glinting red, as if informing you you aren't.

It's hard, much harder than it reasonably should be but you've forgotten how to do this. Leon and you hardly spoke; the silence was easier - until it grew violent from your overreliance. 

You catch the ring of the doorbell over the drone of his voice, a familiar shape of blonde hair and brown leather entering your peripheral vision. You turn, a sick sense of satisfaction slithering up your spine. 

Shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep in his pockets, he shakes off the water droplets clinging to his hair like a dog. He picks his head up, blue eyes and dark circles meet your gaze almost immediately.

You raise a brow, I took your advice; happy?

He spins around, setting the bell off again as he slips out the door. 

"I'm sorry," you interrupt your date, who had been entertaining himself, seemingly never even recognizing your shift in attention. "I'll be right back." 

You are out the door a second later, shoving your arms back into the coat you thankfully remembered to grab, shielding your skin from the rain clouding your vision. Blinking away the droplets from your lashes, you spot Leon making his way down the sidewalk and take off after him, catching up as he nears the corner. 

You call to him, voice near enough to stop him, but only for a moment. "Go back inside," he throws over his shoulder, continuing forward.

You want to reach out and grab him, make him turn to look at you, but his shoulders are set in a tense line. Your touch is sure to set him off like a slingshot. 

Steeling yourself, you dart around him, blocking his path. You find yourself in front of him without any idea of what to say. You gape at him stupidly, chest heaving from the exertion of chasing him down; maybe you should've asked what's-his-name for a good gym recommendation before you ran off.

Leon entertains you for a moment before he huffs, eyes narrowing, "what are you doing?"

It's an excellent question - one you had never bothered to stop and ask yourself. 

What are you doing? 

Why did you agree to go for drinks? Why had you put on the dress Leon had carefully unzipped and let pool around your ankles just a few weeks ago? Why had you asked Mr. Tie Bar to meet you at the bar you knew Leon always popped into after work? 

Fuck. 

You swallow harshly, "trying." 

"Trying?" Leon reiterates, almost laughing. "And what is it that you are trying?"

Normal. To get over you. To make you mad. Honesty. To make you look at me. To make you want me like I want you. Safety. To hurt you. To get you to say something, anything. Trust. To get you to make me stay. To get you to stay. 

You feel yourself frown, the familiar pressure of tears building behind your nose. You try to swallow the feeling but it just mixes with the venom stuck in your throat, bubbling back up after mutating into a bitter twinge of anger. "What the hell does it look like, Leon? You told me to try to find someone else - that's what I'm trying."

He rocks back on his heels, crossing his arms. "Well, it doesn't really seem to be working out, does it?" 

"It was going great, actually." You smile, hoping it's not as hollow as you feel. 

"Oh, yeah?" He cocks a brow, lips pulling into a sly smirk. "Then why are you out here with me?

"You," you huff, at a loss. His words seem to be coming easier than ever while you choke on every one. You shrug, "You looked upset when you left."

"And I'm sure that's exactly what you wanted, right?" His smirk stretches into an acetous grin. "Came to relish in the tears, huh? Sorry to disappoint." He moves to brush by you, but you plant yourself in his path once again. 

"I can't believe-" you start, but stop short. Because you can believe he'd think of you that way - you'd never given him a reason to think otherwise. 

You think back to the silence that had made its home between the two of you, realizing you had used it as a confidant, letting it absorb everything you should've given to Leon instead. 

"I just wanted to check on you, see how you are doing." Your voice comes out as small as you feel under the weight of Leon's gaze. It's ironic - all this time you just wanted him to look at you, and now you wish he'd turn his eyes anywhere else. 

He snorts, short and irascibly, "I don't need you worrying about me."

"I know you don't, Leon," you throw your hands out, rainwater flicking off your skin with your exasperation. "You've made that very clear. But I can't help it - I'm going to anyways." 

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?" You half-yell, half-whine. You cringe at the sound, feeling slightly delirious; freezing cold and nearly begging him to let you care. 

 "Because you can do better." His voice is even once again, feelings stacked neatly away and locked up tight. 

"You don't get to decide that for me," you spit, ears ringing with the echo of your too-loud voice. 

"Yeah," he nods. "I do." 

He steps around you again, intending to disappear down the side street. But this time you grab him, fingers latching onto the slippery leather of his jacket, his arm as tense as a bowstring under your grip. 

"Let me go," he requests without turning to look at you, voice still even, even, even. It's a courtesy, he could easily pull free - but you are sick of his kindness, his courtesies; that's how you ended up here. You don't want them anymore.

"Make me." 

"Let me go," he repeats, slower and thicker. 

"No." If you want me gone, you'll have to force me. You don't say it, but you know he got the message when his shoulders slump, fight draining out of him all at once. 

With the thrill of victory that ripples through you, you make the mistake of loosening your hold on his jacket. He seizes the opportunity, twisting your arm and grabbing you by the bicep, pulling you close. He is running hot despite the chill of the rain, you have to force yourself not to relax into his heat. 

A moment passes, and then another. Neither of you move. The precipitation falls in sheets around you. You can't bring yourself to care. 

Your gaze slides from his chest to his neck to his jaw, backtracking the path of a stray raindrop. You chance a glance at his eyes, finding they are already on you, steely blue shimmering with the light of the streetlamp behind you. 

You love him. 

You wish the ground would crack open, allowing you to freefall straight down to hell. You imagine that would feel better - less painful - than this. 

You love him, and your skin burns with the feeling of it. You want to throw up. You want to kiss him. You want to pound your fists against his chest, curse him for doing this to you. 

You settle for allowing a sob to escape your throat. 

He releases you from his hold instantly at the sound. You scramble to grip his jacket to keep yourself upright - it's pitiful, the teeth of the zipper biting into the skin of your hands. The sharp pain comes as a tether, gifting you the space to ground yourself, to shove the tears back down. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers, tight and clipped. "I didn't mean to-"

"No," you cut him off, voice rough, grating. "It wasn't. You didn't hurt me."

"Okay," he mutters. 

You laugh. You love him and you can't help but laugh, sinking into the insanity of it. 

You feel him start to stiffen again, unsure. The feeling of his discomfort building under your fingers forces you back into yourself, realizing where you are, that you've been causing a scene on the corner down the block from his apartment. 

You release him, but you don't step away, tilting your head just enough to take in the sight of him - parted lips and a handful of freckles, blonde hair tinted green by the neon sign over the entrance of the convenience store a few feet away. 

"I'm sorry," you croak out, drifting back; wishing the rain would melt you down, suck you into the storm drain. That's the only thing that could pull you from him, you think; swirling down the gutters with the cigarette butts and the fallen cherry blossoms until you're laid to rest at the bottom of the Potomac. 

His nose twitches. "For what?"

That I can't find someone else, can't force myself away from you.

That I love you, but can't tell you.  

"For," you throw your hands out, weaker than before. "All of it."

He nods, "It's okay."

You don't want it to be, but you suddenly feel exhausted. Too tired to fight, to pull any more truths from him. 

"Take me home?" You request, you plead. 

He nods again, holding his hand out to you. "Yeah."

You intertwine your fingers with his own, the roughness of his callouses and scars soothing in their familiarity. 

The walk to his place is short. You don't bother trying to shake off the water before entering, leaving a trail of raindrops up the stairwell, down the hall, through his front door, across his apartment to the tiled floor of his bathroom. 

He reaches into the shower, cranking the hot water, allowing the stream to heat up as he helps you out of your wet clothes. He removes the drenched fabric piece by piece - jacket first, then your dress, unzipping it with even more care than the previous time. It doesn't slip off with the same ease, but his gentle fingers pull it from your skin until it falls away. He crouches to undo your shoes, allowing you to step out of them before reaching up and rolling your nylons, guiding them down your legs. 

He moves to do the same with your underwear, fingers resting on the waistband as he glances up to you, silently asking your permission even though he already has it, always will. There's no heat behind his actions, but the tenderness sears your skin all the same. You nod, a low ache settling into the center of your chest as he slides them off you before standing. You unclasp your bra; he doesn't comment on the matching set.

The steam of the boiling shower envelops you as you undress him in turn. You struggle with his belt buckle, stiff fingers uncooperative. He takes over and you drop to your knees to untie the laces of his boots, finding them mercifully secured with single-knots. You make quick work of them and he reaches down to help you up, moving you out of the way before he kicks them off. 

You assist him in pulling his shirt over his head, peeling the cotton away from his skin. You unbutton his jeans as he removes the clips from your hair, wet strands falling limply in front of your eyes. 

"Go ahead and get in, I'll go throw this stuff in the wash." His voice is mellifluous, sickeningly soft. 

It makes you feel like a kid, incompetent and helpless. You hate him for it. You hate yourself for twisting his kindness into something dark and disgusting. 

"I can help," you offer, because that's all you can do; already leaning down to collect your things. "You have to hang the jacket, it's-"

"Wool. I know," his hand brushes your back lightly, "it's okay. I'll be right back."

You straighten up, allowing him to guide you across the bathroom and help you into the tub. You slowly ease your way under the hot stream as he slides the shower curtain closed. 

You watch the shape of him through the cloudy plastic, shucking off his jeans and pulling off his socks. The sobs you had just barely choked down twice before make another escape attempt, clawing at your throat as you watch his shadow collect your clothes and move down the hall. 

You shut your eyes against the sudden emptiness of the room, against the tears and the silence and the panic; against the loathing and inferiority. You take the coward's way out, turning away from it all to hold your face up to the showerhead. 

He returns quickly, rustling around for a moment before slipping into the tub behind you. His presence awards you the bravery you needed to crack open your eyes, to clear your throat. "You're wrong, you know."

Exhaustion overshadows his amusement as he hums in question, "about what?"

Picking your hand up, you reach out slowly to slide your fingers along his collarbone, circle the puckered scar on his shoulder. "That I can find someone better." 

He scoffs, dropping his head, hair fluttering down to obscure his face. 

You move your hand to his neck, thumbing his jaw. "If anything, it's me who doesn't deserve you, Leon." 

He shakes his head, but you ignore the action, continuing before he can protest. "Nobody can take care of me like you do - not even myself. I'm sorry" - for needing you, for burdening you; for loving you even though I'm unworthy of it - "for pushing you. I understand there are things you can't share, but I want whatever you can."

You sigh, shifting your hand at his neck to pull him to you; he follows you easily, achingly. "Even if it's just this." 

He nods minutely, hooking his arms over your hips and resting his forehead on yours. Answer delivered on a breath that floats across your lips, "alright." 

You remain in his arms, his agreement echoing in your mind in time with the beat of your heart in your chest. Seconds morph into minutes, only moving when the water begins to grow cold. 

You wash first, your shampoo and conditioner still on the rack next to his own. Leaving him under the stream, you make your way to his room after wrapping yourself in one of the towels he'd brought into the bathroom. 

Home. You had asked him to take you home and he brought you here, despite your own place being just a few blocks further in the opposite direction of his from the corner you had been on. But his assumption was right; this - he - was home to you.  

The emptiness of his apartment was unsettling at first, but it quickly grew comforting - no regrets staining the carpet; no photos on the dresser of you as a girl you don't remember being. Here you could be untethered from the past you didn't want; white walls graciously offering a clean slate, even if you didn't deserve it, didn't earn it. 

There is a shirt of his waiting on the bed for you, a pair of your pajama pants in the drawer next to his. Your stomach turns at the sight - no wonder he had tried to push you away; you had subconsciously settled into his space, his closet and his bed. 

Your mug in the sink, your pills behind the mirror - the reckless domesticity of it all is startling, terrifying. He had given you an inch and you had taken a mile, too eager for the chance to be something new. 

You pull on the clothes, making your way towards the balcony, a wave of nausea rolling through you under the soft cotton. Outside, it's still raining, translucent ropes sluicing off the overhang of the roof. 

You almost immediately regret stepping outside, feeling as if it's a betrayal of the care Leon took to get you warm; but you needed it. The chill of the air forces your thoughts to line up, to wait to be addressed one by one.

His hand leading you home, your wool coat hung to dry, his shirt waiting on the bed for you to occupy - each act a silent invitation; the realization stirs inside you, grips your collarbones from the inside. 

Could it be…?

You should ask him, but you've asked for more than enough tonight. 

He slides open the glass door, sweatpants low on his hips; the lamp on his nightstand illuminates him from behind, feathering out all his sharp edges. Maybe it's not love; maybe it's just lust, desire - a need so great it's all-consuming. You have no point of comparison to use as a frame of reference, to assist in finding the distinction. 

"I was away for a few days, there's not much in the fridge. Is ramen alright or do you want to order something?" He asks and it's love, you are suddenly sure of it. 

You turn; the sight of Leon in the buttery glow of the bedroom acting as a beacon, guiding you through the terror. "Ramen is fine."

[apothecaryscript]

“Counter words” in Japanese

According to the information on the Internet, there are about 500 counter words in Japanese, of which only about 100 are actually used. Here are some of them which we frequently use in daily conversation.

*Green-colored words are used especially often.

個（こ/Ko）… Something small for a person to hold with.

一個（いっこ/Ikko）, 二個（にこ/Ni-ko）, 三個（さんこ/San-ko）, 四個（よんこ/Yon-ko）, 五個（ごこ/Go-ko）, 六個（ろっこ/Rokko）, 七個（ななこ/Nana-ko）, 八個（はちこ、はっこ/Hachi-ko, Hakko）, 九個（きゅうこ/Kyu-ko）, 十個（じゅっこ、じっこ/Jukko, Jikko）

玉(たま/Tama) … Spherical foods such as cabbage and onions can be counted with Tama. It’s also used for boiled noodle for one person such as Ramen and Udon.

錠(じょう/Jo) … Tablets or pills of medicine.

粒(つぶ/Tsubu) … Very small things such as grains of rice and beans.

箱（はこ/Hako）… Boxes, such as luggage, boxed items, cigarettes, etc.

本(ほん/Hon)… Long, thin objects such as carrots, umbrellas, pens, spoons, bottles etc. Shots or home runs in sports, movies, and numbers of trains or buses of public transportation are also counted with Hon.

一本（いっぽん/Ippon）, 二本（にほん/Ni-hon）, 三本（さんぼん/San-bon）, 四本（よんほん/Yon-hon）, 五本（ごほん/Go-hon）, 六本（ろっぽん/Roppon）, 七本（しちほん、ななほん/Shichi-hon, Nana-hon）, 八本（はちほん、はっぽん/Hachi-hon, Happon）, 九本（きゅうほん/Kyu-hon）, 十本（じゅっぽん、じっぽん/Juppon, Jippon）

膳（ぜん/Zen)... A pair of chopsticks. 一膳（いちぜん/Ichi-zen) means 二本（にほん/Ni-hon) of chopsticks.

台(だい/Dai)… Vehicles such as cars, bicycles, and electrical appliances such as television and computers.

機(き/Ki)... Airplanes, Helicopters, Rockets, etc.

杯（はい/Hai）… Water, drinks or foods served in cups or bowls, such as coffee, tea, rice, Udon, Ramen etc.

一杯（いっぱい/Ippai）, 二杯（にはい/Ni-hai）, 三杯（さんばい/San-bai）, 四杯（よんはい/Yon-hai）, 五杯（ごはい/Go-hai）, 六杯（ろっぱい、ろくはい/Roppai, Roku-hai）, 七杯（ななはい、しちはい/Nana-hai, Shichi-hai）, 八杯（はっぱい、はちはい/Happai, Hachi-hai）, 九杯（きゅうはい/Kyu-hai）, 十杯（じゅっぱい、じっぱい/Juppai, Jippai）

皿（さら/Sara）… Dishes. Foods served on a flat plate.

枚（まい/Mai）… Thin, flat objects such as papers, leaves, photos, plates, etc.

一枚（いちまい/Ichi-mai）, 二枚（にまい/Ni-mai）, 三枚（さんまい/San-mai）, 四枚（よんまい/Yon-mai）, 五枚（ごまい/Go-mai）, 六枚（ろくまい/Roku-mai）, 七枚（ななまい/Nana-mai）, 八枚（はちまい/Hachi-mai）, 九枚（きゅうまい/Kyu-mai）, 十枚（じゅうまい/Ju-mai）

部（ぶ/Bu）… Publications such as newspapers and leaflets.

冊（さつ/Satsu）… Books, notebooks, albums etc.

通（つう/Tsu）… Letters, postcards, and e-mails.

人（にん/Nin）… People, humans.  Please refer to my past post for further detail.

組(くみ/Kumi)… Couples, groups of people, pairs of items such as gloves

匹（ひき/Hiki）… Small animals such as cats and small dogs, or insects.

一匹（いっぴき/Ippiki）, 二匹（にひき/Ni-hiki）, 三匹（��んびき/San-biki）, 四匹（よんひき/Yon-hiki）, 五匹（ごひき/Go-hiki）, 六匹（ろっぴき/Roppiki）, 七匹（しちひき、ななひき/Shichi-hiki, Nana-hiki）, 八匹（はちひき、はっぴき/Hachi-hiki, Happiki）, 九匹（きゅうひき/Kyu-hiki）, 十匹（じゅっぴき、じっぴき/Juppiki, Jippiki）

頭（とう/To）… Big animals such as cows and horses, or dogs that are too big for a person to hold with.

羽（わ/Wa）… Birds

着（ちゃく/Chaku）… Clothes (But underwear and thin shirts may be counted with 「枚（まい/Mai）」.)

足（そく/Soku）… Shoes, socks, and other items worn on the feet.

件（けん/Ken）… Incidents, accidents, matters, cases, etc.

軒（けん/Ken）… Houses, shops, and small buildings

棟（とう/To）… Large buildings such as apartments and warehouses.

校(こう/Ko)… Schools(It means its’ organizations, not its’ buildings.)

社（しゃ/Sha）… Companies

か所（かしょ/Kasho）… Places. In Kanji 「箇所」, in Hiragana ��か所」, or in Katakana 「カ所」「ヵ所」「ケ所」「ヶ所」. Any of them is okay.

か国（かこく/Kakoku）… Countries. In Kanji 「箇国」, in Hiragana 「か国」, or in Katakana 「カ国」「ヵ国」「ケ国」「ヶ国」. Any of them is okay.

面（めん/Men）… Flat surfaces, grounds, tennis courts, etc.

階(かい/Kai)… Floors.

回（かい/Kai）… Times

曲（きょく/Kyoku）… Songs, music.

話（わ/Wa）… Stories of TV dramas, anime, manga, novels, etc.

作（さく/Saku）… Artworks, cultural works of creators.

We don’t care if foreign people use wrong words as we recognize it’s so difficult. But still, please note that using “個(こ/Ko)” or “匹（ひき/Hiki）” to count people is very rude, and it must be always “人（にん/Nin）” for humans.

[im-leaking]

Silly story

Me and my friend were walking around on campus and this motorcycle guy drove past us. We couldn’t see his face at all cuz of his helmet and we started saying things like “I’m hard asf rn” and just things like that.

Well, we saw him ride past again and into the parking lot so we were like “follow him” because he was parked and we wanted to see what he looked like under the helmet. We walked into the parking lot, I almost got run over like twice, I was on my bicycle, and I said “get on the sidewalk” cuz there were so many cars because it was near rush hour and I think there was an event happening.

The motorcyclist wasn’t removing his helmet so we were like walking around a bit and I was like “bro I’m wet as fuck rn” (all jokes btw but he was cute) and then she said “wait he’s sitting like a slut what!” And I look back and HE WAS LIKE LEANING BACK ON HIS BIKE AND I WAS LIKE 😳

Then we both just sat down and like would look over at him from time to time. I was thinking maybe he was looking at us too and I was scared but she said it was the side of his helmet.

Anyway, he would not remove his helmet. He put his gloves on at one point and she said “he’s just teasing us now” we were both laughing so hard and just joking around but then he started to leave and we were like, “fuck it let’s just go back.”

So we started walking home but that was when we saw him coming back and we were like “teehee” and it was all fun and games until he was coming around onto the road near us and we were like 😳 then before we could cross the road, he drove right past us and BLEW US A FUCKING KISS BRO I WAS SO FUCKING EMBARRASSED.

Like were we that obvious omg? 😭 I told my boyfriend the story and he thought it was funny I was worried he would be upset with me but he wasn’t.

This story sounds like it’s right out of a gay ass fanfic BUT IM BENG SO SERIOUS. He probably thought I was a girl too but it doesn’t matter tbh just damn..

Sadly, we never got to find out what he looks like.

[gremlinwithakeyboard]

Stuff I use regularly that's technically not a mobility aid but sure help me get places I otherwise wouldn't be able to

Bicycle - Fairly obvious one. Gets me to the shops fast without killing my legs like walking or driving would. I can even lean on it when I'm walking with it to still take weight off my questionable knees!

Noise cancelling headphones - Going out used to be a pain for the whole family because you can only spend so long out when you don't know where the next "safe" toilet is. The world opened up so much more to me when I no longer had to worry about extractor fans and hand dryers.

Long sleeved shirt/jacket - Contamination OCD freaking sucks but fortunately I've got it mild enough that if I cover my hand while touching stuff like buttons and door handles my brain doesn't go too crazy. So it's useful to have something with nice long sleeves I can retreat my hands into. I'd use gloves but they make my hands feel uncomfortable.

Bottle of hand sanitizer - Similar to the above one. Sometimes I'm having a bit of An Episode™ and everything is extra dirty or I dropped something on The Ground and can't just leave it somewhere until my brain forgets it's supposed to be toxic. Squirting a ton of gel onto the offending hand/object is a lot quicker and easier than retreating to the nearest bathroom to go clean it, and most of the time it's enough to keep The Thoughts at bay.

A solid pair of walking/military/safety boots - Combined with my arch supports, I can manage a bit more walking without totally killing my legs. I think it's the ankle support? With black leather military ones I can even wear them with formal wear under a long enough pair of trousers. They're not so fun when it's hot, but while I can function on a pair of trainers, walking boots are my usual everyday shoe. My latest pair even have hooks at the top instead of lace holes so I can either have them as slipon trainers with extra ankle if I'm going cycling or for a long car ride, or I can quickly lace them up all the way if I'm going walking. I was absolutely spoiled by a pair of leather safety boots I got a year or so ago. When they were new, I could walk to the morrisons on the other side of town and back and the only pain I had was from tying the laces too tight. Unfortunately the leather stretched and the boots got too big.

Not sure why I made this post, just wanted to ramble about it for a while. Feel free to add stuff!

[kay-wren]

I'll Come Running - R.C. - Chapter 33

Rafe rolled up his sleeves as if to relieve some tension as he walked out of the restaurant to his two girls. Jessie was at the end of the dock playing with Charley as they splashed their hands in the water. Jessie heard Rafe stomp down the dock and turned to look at him, clearly disgruntled.

Without so much as a word, Rafe picked up Charley, and attempted to grab Jessie's hand to indicate that they were leaving. Jessie didn't take the bait.

"What was that?" Jessie asked with a somewhat disgusted look on her face. Charley began to fuss, clearly wanting to play in the water some more.

"Daddy put me down!" Charley cried as she tried to get loose from Rafe's grasp, she was obviously unsuccessful.

"We need to leave." Rafe persisted, speaking to both of his girls at the same time, but looking at Jessie with wide eyes and a continued outstretched hand. Jessie could tell Rafe wasn't playing, and Charley could too. Rather than cause another scene, Jessie simply huffed and took her husband's hand. Rafe walked back to the truck with Charley on his hip and Jessie in his grasp, proving a point to whoever he assumed was watching.

They made it back to the truck with no words, not even a protest from Charley. Charley had a sixth sense just like her mom and dad of knowing when tension was high. Jessie hated that she could already sense that, maybe she did make the wrong choice getting back with Rafe?

Rafe sped off in the direction of the local super market, his hands clutching the steering wheel tightly. He was afraid to speak, not knowing what would fly out. Jessie, on the other hand, was never afraid to speak, and she certainly wasn't going to start now.

"Listen if you're going to fly into fits of rage then-"

"Jessie" Rafe said sternly but calmly as he looked in her direction for a moment as if to say please don't start this.

"Jessie, Barry deserved everything that was coming to him and you know it. You know I'm not gonna let him bully my family, especially not anymore now that I don't need him like I used to."

Jessie knew exactly what he meant by that. Rafe wasn't using, so Rafe didn't need Barry anymore. The gloves were off, he had no reason to be nice to that man, and why would he when he's so openly intimidating his wife and daughter?

"You taught me not to be a doormat, remember?"

"Yeah, but Charley-"

"I told you to take Charley outside and you did. She didn't see anything so what's the problem?" Rafe asked a little more angrily this time. "Don't act like I'm some piece of shit father who's gonna thump people in front of his own kid, I'm not Luke!" Rafe finished with venom in his voice.

That was enough to make Jessie go silent, as she looked at the side profile of Rafe, looking angry but still un phased. Jessie simply turned her head and looked out the window. Rafe picked at a very old wound she thought had healed. That's where Jessie's worry came from with Rafe being around Charley. That's why Jessie left, to keep Charley from having to be emotionally intelligent enough to decipher her father's moods and motives just like she once did so well. Despite the sadness Jessie was feeling, she didn't cry, she never did. Rather, she turned inward to herself like a recluse, refusing to let Charley or Rafe see her sweat. Unfortunately, nobody knew Jessie like Rafe knew Jessie, and he could see right through it, but he would deal with it later. He wasn't going to do this in front of their daughter. Instead, Rafe opted to take a breath and lay a hand on Jessie's exposed thigh, as if to silently say I still love you and we're gonna get through this.

As if Jessie was riding a bicycle, she remembered exactly what Rafe was communicating by that gesture, and although she was still upset, they both silently agreed to put it to rest for the time being for their daughter.

With that, they finally made it to the store. They each piled out of the car, with Rafe grabbing Charley from her car seat and Jessie grabbing a cart to set her in.

They weaved in between the isles, picking up the necessities like bread, eggs, milk, lunch meat, fruit, veggies, and some stuff for meals. As they made their way through the store, Rafe and Jessie both heard all too familiar voices.

"Rafe! What the hell?!" Toppers voice billowed from the other side of isle ten. Rafe turned his head from the cereal and met eyes with the dirty blonde, who was making his way over. Rafe surprisingly was kind of relieved to see an old friend, Jessie, on the other hand, couldn't help but be disgusted. Top was a typical kook in Jessie's opinion, and she figured not much had changed from four years ago.

"Yo, Top! What's up?" Rafe asked as he went to dap up Topper with a smile. He didn't realize it until just then but he missed the handshake. Topper quickly realized who his long lost best friend was with, his look of surprise quickly turning sour.

"Jessie?" Topper asked filled with judgement. "I thought you, like... died?"

"Oh and I'm sure you wished I had." Jessie replied snarkily as she folded her hands together with the most sickening sweet smile.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Topper scowled and looked back at Rafe. "What the hell are you doing with her? Didn't she leave you like ages ago, dude are you serious?" Topper whispered. Not very well though because Jessie could definitely still hear the exchange. Truthfully, she figured Topper wanted her to hear.

"Hey, man, look, it's not like that anymore... we're back together, alright?" Rafe said calmly trying to ease the tension as he glanced back at Jessie to reassure her. Jessie took no offense to Toppers disappointment, knowing it was inevitable. The two had always hated each other.

"Nah, dude, come on you're better than this-"

"Hey," Rafe quickly interrupted. "It's not your decision." He corrected Topper with a finger pointed at his chest, making sure he got the message. Charley piped up at just the wrong time.

"Daddy, look!" Charley said a little too loudly as she pointed to one of the dolls in her hand. Jessie quickly shushed her daughter, Rafe trying not to look back, instead keeping his laser focus on his old best friend. Toppers disdain turned back to surprise as he finally laid eyes on the brown haired girl behind Rafe sitting in the cart. How he just now saw her, neither of them knew, Jessie figured it was because Topper was too self absorbed, as always.

"D-daddy?" Topper asked with a slight laugh and raise of his hands. "She's got you paying child support now? Dude, how do you not see right through this! Are you even sure she's yours? I mean... you know Jessie got around before you and-" Topper laughed a little harder and a little louder.

"Hey," Rafe said getting a little closer, close enough to take Topper's jaw in his massive hand slowly squeezing Topper's face. "I went looking for her alright? I didn't even know we had a daughter, and now that I do, neither of them are going anywhere, got it?" Rafe threatened with a calculated look in his eye. Topper stood down and simply nodded, still showing slight hesitation.

"Not that any of this is your business anyways, tube top." Jessie sassed as she grabbed the cart to start rolling away. That was Jessie's special nickname for the kook she hated the most, Topper couldn't forget the nickname if he tried.

Rafe couldn't help but laugh to himself and give Topper a sly smirk.

"See you around, Top." Rafe said as he walked away behind Jessie. There was the Rafe that Topper had come to know so well: sarcastic and smooth talking.

"Okay so we need beer for tonight too because the pogues are gonna wan-" Jessie was cut off by Rafe wrapping his arms around the cart and reaching his head around for a deep kiss. He wanted it to go much further but figured it wasn't best considering they were running into everyone they knew and didn't need anymore attention drawn to them.

"What was that for?" Jessie asked with a small smile on her face.

"That was for giving some sass to Top. I missed that." Rafe whispered with his hands still on each side of the shopping cart as he planted another kiss to her lips. Jessie did her fair share of kook partying with Rafe back in the day, which inevitably included Topper. Despite being smoke buddies, Topper and Jessie never could see eye to eye.

"Me too." Jessie joked after they pulled away. They both laughed. "I just hate that we're back even years later and it still feels like we have to sneak around just to not be judged."

"Let em judge baby. You're not my secret anymore." Rafe whispered, his arms still boxing her in. Jessie just smiled in appreciation.

"But seriously we need beers for the pogues tonight."

"You want your High Noons too? Black Cherry?" Rafe asked referring to the seltzer Jessie loved so much. He could never understand why that was her drink of choice but he never complained. Jessie was just happy that he still remembered such a small detail. She simply nodded in response and with that they were off to the next isle.

- - -

"Rafe can you please grab Charley? She's running around the house in her underwear and she needs to get cleaned up before the Pogues get here!" Jessie yelled from the kitchen as she was getting some snacks ready for the small party they were throwing tonight. It would be just like last night but at Tannyhill. Rafe had been on the phone ever since the family got home from grocery shopping, Jessie figured it was work related. With him being the new head of a multi million dollar company, he couldn't stay away from those pesky phone calls and emails for long.

"Rafe?!" Jessie said louder, clearly more in a panic, not knowing what mess Charley was getting into given the silence she noticed throughout the house. Charley was just like her father, always getting into trouble and impossible to keep track of. Jessie finally heard footsteps coming from the office, Rafe quickly whizzing by Jessie with his phone still connected to his face to make his way to the front yard to see Charley playing in the mud.

Rafe just stood there, astonished and confused about what to do. He's never been in this situation before. Does he hang up? Does he grab his daughter? Does he keep talking? He decided to try and kill two birds with one stone.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need you to send me those spreadsheets." Rafe kept talking as he squeezed the phone between his shoulder and cheek and picked up his dirty daughter. He gave her a look up and down followed by a look that said really?

Rafe awkwardly held the three year old out in front of him as he walked back in the house, still on the phone and clearly frantic. He zoomed into the kitchen, where Jessie caught the sight before her. She gasped, trying to keep quiet as she knew Rafe was still technically busy. She hated that she couldn't step away from the food on the stove to help, but, Charley was Rafe's responsibility too.

Rafe, clearly thinking quickly, put Charley in the massive sink. It actually seemed to be the perfect size for the toddler, and she found it sort of fun.

"I don't care! The spreadsheets better be done by the end of the week. I want contacts made on all of those prospects." Rafe demanded through the phone, both his girls picked up on the frustration in his voice. Nonetheless, Rafe turned on the sink water, getting it the perfect temperature, and began to hose Charley down, to which she couldn't help but giggle.

After a minute or two more of Rafe yelling through the phone, he finally hung up. Ironically, at the same time Jessie was done with what she had on the stove and made her way over to her husband.

"You do realize you're washing her with dish soap right?" Jessie asked with a smile on her face and a slight chuckle.

Rafe, still flustered, looked down at his daughter and back up at Jessie with sass.

"Well she's clean isn't she?" Rafe replied, with so much sass Jessie couldn't help but laugh. She kissed his cheek as if to say thank you. That wasn't good enough for Rafe. As Jessie went to walk away, he grabbed her hand just in time to spin her right back to him, grabbing her hips and pulling her in for a sweet, passionate kiss. Jessie tried to disconnect but Rafe wasn't having it, she figured this was his way of releasing some frustration from his recent phone call.

"Ewwww daddy!" Charley announced, still sitting in the sink with a cheeky grin. Rafe finally broke away, not soon enough though before hearing someone else.

"Yeah, ewwwww!" JJ reiterated, propped against the entryway of the kitchen with the Pogues in tow snickering. The comment was enough to startle all three of them, clearly not expecting someone to be in the house. Before JJ could even finish his sentence Rafe and Jessie parted, and Rafe reached for his waistband. However, once he quickly realized who it was, he released his grip on the cold metal on his side.

"Next time, it's a bullet, JJ." Rafe replied with a pointed finger, anger spilling over that he was caught off guard.

"Hey, hey..." Jessie tried to release the tension with a light hearted tone as she rubbed Rafe's back, who had now propped his hands on the sink in front of him, gripping it for dear life and clinching his jaw to stop from saying more.

"Yeah, yeah, noise noise." JJ waved his brother in law off, clearly not amused or afraid. "You're front door was wide open, dog"

Rafe's tension turned to one of remorse as he deeply sighed with a stellar look of guilt on his face and looked at Jessie, who had a smirk on her face.

"Must've... left the door open." Rafe awkwardly chuckled and nodded his head, as if to silently say he was sorry to his wife for getting so upset about something he caused. Jessie only nodded cheekily as if to except the silent apology, but not without a smirk and a pat on the back.

"Why don't you just go and get her changed. She's currently butt naked in our sink." Jessie laughed, still looking at Rafe.

"Good idea." Rafe replied as he scooped up the toddler and carried her to their room upstairs.

Jessie made her way over to the Pogues, meeting them with smiles and hugs.

"It feels so weird being back in this house." Sarah said with a hint of gladness, but mostly unrest, as she hugged Jessie and looked aimlessly around. Nothing had changed for Sarah.

"Well, you're more than welcome to stay here if you'd like, but we completely understand if you don't. Frankly, we're not all that comfortable with living here either. I don't think we'll be here for much longer." Jessie commented.

"Where you gonna go?" John B asked.

"Oh I don't know. That's not really something Rafe and I have talked about in detail yet, but it will be somewhere on Figure 8 I assume." Jessie replied.

"Why don't you wanna stay here? This place is... huge." Pope chimed in as they wondered into the living room, admiring the adorned walls and priceless artifacts. It seemed more like a museum than a house. And that it was to Rafe, Jessie, and Sarah... a museum of what once was childhood memories and newer ones that nobody was fond of remembering. Love had died in that house a long time ago, and that idea was really hard to convey to the other pogues.

"It just... holds too many bad memories for Rafe and I." Jessie simply replied with a shrug.

"I understand that." Sarah scoffed. "This house probably has a hex on it." She joked. Although Jessie laughed back she only found it more concerning, she wasn't so sure this house wasn't haunted with Ward's presence.

"Yeah, Charley still sleeps with us at night. We're just ready to start fresh with something that's new and our own."

"That's exciting! Maybe we can help decorate... once you find something of course." Sarah grinned.

"I'd love that. And the boys can move the furniture!" Jessie said with a smile. The boys mumbled back with a sarcastic slough of "yays" and "oh yeahs".

With that, Rafe finally made his way back down the stairs slowly as he held Charley's hand to let her try and walk down the steps one by one on her own. She was doing pretty good, but Rafe had a firm grip on her hand just in case he needed to yank her back up at any moment.

"Let's get this party started." John B announced as they all headed out to the pool.

[zemkzone]

I don't normally vent, but... TLDR: I was mugged in a city, a country, where I am a foreigner and the supposed friends who were helping me told another friend I was acting "entitled" to their help. It was heavily implied I had to APOLOGIZE to them. AITA or not AITA? I now have much bigger trust issues than I had last week.

Long version:

I've been living in the UK for almost 2 years, and I went down to London on Friday for a break from a stressful work-week. The first night went well, dinner and a show, and I fell asleep at a decent enough time to wake up early on Saturday for 9:30AM yoga with, for lack of a better term, friends of a friend. It was a relatively nice morning, so I decided to take one of the buses instead of schlepping my way down to the Tube (which I still call the subway most days coz, can you blame the proverbial Yankee visiting King Charles' Court?). I got off the bus in the City, what they call the business area in London as a whole, I have been made to understand. Google Maps told me it was an easy walk from the bus stop to the hotel where the yoga class was, but there were several alley/side road closures where the app wanted me to go. I was still on a nice, wide sidewalk, with few cars on the street and few people around me too. I paused at what felt like a safe intersection on that wide sidewalk, right by a modern glass building with CCTV hanging off it and CCTVs on the crosswalk traffic lights a few meters away. I was as far from the roadside as possible, and out of precautionary habit, I had my back turned to the road a little to protect the phone I had out in my hand. I was texting those sort-of friends that I was a few minutes out, and trying to get Google Maps to reroute me.

Suddenly, a black glove appeared in front of my face and my phone was snatched away by what looked like a man in an electric blue puffer hoodie, riding a bicycle on the sidewalk. I tried to chase him, but between the coffee I had to let go of and the duffle bag on my shoulder, it was hopeless. He disappeared around the corner I had been considering walking along myself, and I was left to ask for help from the four passersby at the crosswalk. Two of them happened to be a father and daughter (Brits, but also just visitors in London). The father wrote down my exact location and the time so I could report it to the police. When I said I had friends at a nearby hotel, he and his daughter helped me find my way to it. They didn't have to walk me in, but they did. "We'll wait here," he said at the top of an escalator, "and wait for you to give us a thumbs up if the receptionist has located your friends". The receptionist did, I signaled the two perfect strangers that all was well, and we waved goodbye as they headed off to continue their day.

What followed should have been an exercise in practicality. The boyfriend of one of those sort-of friends (let's call him M) and a hotel staffer helped me contact the police and cancel my debit card (which had been in my snatched cellphone's case). Two officers came to the hotel so I could give them my statement, etc. All the while, M sat with me, updating his girlfriend and the others who still continued on with their yoga session. The police asked me to take them to the spot where the crime occurred. M was still with me, and as we walked out of the hotel, his girlfriend (T) and more people than I expected (I'd only though I was meeting T and another friend I'll call W) came out to join us. I hadn't realized that a whole hour had passed since I'd arrived at the hotel. Their yoga session was over.

At that point, I was torn between (1) feeling marginally better because I had company who knew the city and (2) trying to keep it together in the face of everything that losing a smartphone in 2024 implies. After the police took down the added details at the incident site, T and co. asked me if I wanted to still go to brunch. I agreed since I needed to sit, was shaken, and, though I didn't feel it at the time, did need more than half a cup of coffee in my stomach. At the restaurant, I tried to stay in good spirits. Aside from T, M, and W, there were two people in the group I had never met before, and we were joined by yet another person. I managed to shovel down most of an avocado toast and an Irish coffee (I effing needed the boost). T and her friends had moved on from the usual "sorry that happened to you" and were playing catch up while I asked M where I could find my phone carrier and a place I could get a new phone. I'd come to the UK with the phone that had been snatched, and had only gotten a SIM-only plan with the carrier. I thought the practical thing, since I don't know how many more months/years I'd be in the UK, would be to buy a new phone, then have my carrier block the stolen phone's SIM and issue me a new one. M and I Google Mapped my options, added in my own hotel location so I could grab my passport on the way. I admitted that, considering everything, I (1) needed help getting navigating to those places from where we were and that (2) I didn't feel good enough to be alone just yet. We paid (I still thankfully have working credit cards) for our food and finally left the restaurant.

This is where, to my mind, the uncomfortable part started. Two of the extra 3 people (remember, I was only supposed to have been with T, W, and M, but they had a total of 3 other friends there too), and somehow what should have been a quick 20-30 minutes to get my passport from my hotel and then drop me off on the street with the phone and carrier store became 6 nerve-wracking hours with a too-large group. I said nothing when they started doing "for the gram" picture stops along the way. M went up to my hotel room with me when I got my passport. He took a photo of some passwords on my laptop that I might need when the phone or carrier store staff helped me with my phone. (In hindsight, we should have used pen and paper.) Then our group of 5 all went in what I assume was the direction of the two stores. W was navigating, and at that point, the streets were so crowded and I was getting very tense that I just trusted she knew what she was doing. In my mind, I kept replaying the mugging over and over, what I could have done differently, etc, etc. (I know what happened wasn't my fault, but at the time, I couldn't help it) and listing what I'd have to do first when I got the replacement phone and SIM. I didn't know T and co. well enough to tell them I was internally seeing red and trying not to spiral. Then, suddenly, we stopped walking... at a bubble tea place. I'd only vaguely heard what the group had been talking about as we walked along, since it seemed to be more Instagram/YOLO, etc stuff and no one was asking my input anyway. I smiled tightly and declined an offer for them to buy my bubble tea, opting to stand outside the store to work on staying calm. I didn't realize (hadn't been told) they wanted a break or anything, but I couldnt complain since I was literally dependent on them until I could get a new phone. We eventually got to the phone store, the last remaining extra person left, and I had to pay full price for a phone because as a foreigner I couldn't get on the monthly payment plans. T, M, and W, instead of just pointing me to the carrier store three shops down, came in with me and waited while I talked to the staff. At some point, W or T asked if I wanted coffee, and, while I thanked them for still being there, I declined the drink again. I thought they'd go off to a nearby café or something since I had paperwork, etc to fill. They and M never left. By the time I got the new SIM in the phone and the staff had advised me to go back to the store where I'd bought the phone to get help setting it up, M, T, and W were still there. They went back to the phone store with me, and T told me to stop being so anxious and sit down while we waited in the queue for assistance.

By then, it was almost 5 in the afternoon. The tech assistant helped as much as he could, since I was basically setting up my phone from scratch, but said I could do the rest with my tablet back at my hotel... or come back to the store with it before closing time so he could walk me through that part. T gave me a card with some of the friend-group's phone numbers, and she, M, and W still walked me to my hotel (I'm pretty sure it was unpromted, but my head was so foggy at that point from all I had done and still had to do). It turned out the hotel was a 10-min walk in a straight line from the phone shop. We got to the entrance to my hotel, I said thanks to them for being there the whole time, and they left. I handled grabbing my tablet and walking right back (in 5 min) to the phone shop to finish setup alone. The day ended with me exhausted, having a semi-functional phone that I'd have to wait to fully fix still when I got to my apartment (in a place I jokingly nickname the Shire) after the weekend, and crying to friends back in the States in a call over a lousy room-service dinner. I told them what happened, including my misgivings over all the YOLO stops, and they calmed me down and helped me a little more with fixing my phone.

I got at most two hours of sleep by the time the sun rose on Sunday morning... and then made myself presentable enough to meet A, the original London friend who had introduced me to T, W, and M where I first arrived in the country. I told him that while I was grateful for his friends' help the previous day, I didn't think I could go through that again. (I didn't exactly want to say "they're good-time people, but I don't know if I'd want the...awkward stops all over the place again if I were ever in another crisis around them.") What A said... upset me. T, M, and W had apparently complained to him that, while they still thought I was a lovely person (ah, Britishisms!) I acted "entitled" to their company the whole afternoon and was scowling too much. They didn't regret canceling plans for me, but I seemed "ungrateful in my human interactions with them". A all but said I had to APOLOGIZE to his friends.

I'm in my early 30s, with a no-nonsense, get-shit-done North American mentality and I'm aware my default expression, especially when I'm too tired, is RBF (resting bitch face, for those too young to know), and I feel terrible if I need to drag anyone at all into my messes. They're energetic and bubbly Brits in their late 20s. But they really could have left me at any point, just given me directions and left, and I would not at all have held it against them. Just like I was grateful and held nothing against that father with the kid who initially helped me after the mugging. Is this an AITA situation? Did I miss anything? Is this a subtle cultural/age/millennial-GenZ divide?

I'm still tired as FUCK, trying to get used to this new phone, and have a LOT of life admin to do suddenly after this whole weekend. If you have any thoughts or comments, whoever and wherever you are, feel free to say something.

[imthebentley]

WEDDING CAR PREP

As some of you may know I am the official car of @bil-daddy and @mrazfellcos wedding (see @bildaddy-and-mrazfellcos-wedding for more details) - and ALSO I'm collecting FREDDIE MERCURY from heaven as a guest! (and also Betty White and … God I think…)

I’ve been prepping my questions for Freddie:

Who was the car you were singing about in I’m in Love with my Car?

Are they still, you know, on the road? In the picture?

In this song you have a line ‘cars don't talk back’. If, hypothetically, a car could a little bit talk back - how would you feel about that?

What is your opinion of little smelly trees?

In Bohemian Rhapsody - did you by any chance already know about my boss's work situation?

In your song Bicycle, the bit where I say Rolls and you say Royce, how would you feel about a superficially similar car with a sportier engine and slightly different bonnet ornament?

Would you possibly consider signing my dashboard? *note to self, put sharpie in glove compartment*

Would you like a lift anywhere after this?

Anyway, I am accepting notes if you lot have any opinions

[birgittesilverbae]

prompt: avatrice + travel (ily)

From the moment she steps off the plane, Beatrice's smile can't be contained. She grins all the way through customs, her smile only stretching wider as she nudges Ava with her elbow and points her chin towards the sticker on the floor near the luggage carousel ("Assembly of bicycles is prohibited in the terminal building." Ava has so many questions.) 

By the time they've pulled their backpacks over their shoulders, gathered the keys to their rental car, and ventured out into the muted greys of pre-dawn, Beatrice beams bright enough to outshine the sun. 

Ava smiles fondly back at her as she sweeps snow off the car door handle with a gloved hand. "Stoked?"

Beatrice nods enthusiastically and rescues a windshield scraper from the trunk. "This might honestly be the most excited I've ever been."

"Babe, you've literally been to another planet." 

"Your point?"

Ava sticks her tongue out at her. "Fair enough."

"Sure, Mars is interesting" – Ava squints in confusion as she mouths the words 'interesting' – "but from a geological perspective Iceland is substantially more compelling to me."

"Uh–"

Beatrice's cheeks go pink. "That may have been a bit of an exaggeration–"

"Oh, yeah, just a bit."

"– but this has been a dream of mine for even longer than Mars."

"Sounds fake, but okay."

"I just think it's neat!"

"Literally all you had to say, Bea. I would go to the end of the universe to give you the opportunity to see something neat."