#I had to rewrite this from memory three times because it just wiped the text box constantly.

[hollowtones]

TONIGHT'S COCKTAIL: "White Gilgamesh II"

I didn't have any goat's milk so it's not a true White Gilgamesh. This is the sequel.

INGREDIENTS:

Beer (2 parts, approx); lukewarm

Cow's milk (1 part, approx)

TEXTURE:

Rich. In a bad way. Velvety smooth on the way down. Leaves a thin, filmy, unpleasant coating on the inside of your mouth when you swallow. Carbonation from the beer feels caustic on the tongue. The fizz goes away alarmingly fast.

TASTE:

Notes of bad quality ice cream or yogurt, chemical sour, fermented funk, tonsil stones, and bread. Reminds me of eggnog but missing literally everything that makes eggnog good. Flavours intensify as time passes & the drink warms, but it reaches an eventual Flavour Peak and rapidly plummets to tasting like nothing. (This might have also been me building up an immunity to the drink as time went on.)

REVIEW:

It wasn't TOO foul and it wasn't TOO thick. But it went down hard and it wasn't good. It made me feel I was made of wood. Didn't make me feel like I was going to hurl, though! Which I suppose is ideal for a drink for a long night. I cannot imagine the goat milk original is much better. I wouldn't recommend drinking this. If you love to have bad ideas like me, though, then I probably can't talk you out of this. CHEERS!!!

[maddiwrites]

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Pogues x OC, Eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: I’ll be honest, this isn’t my best chapter, so please don’t judge too harshly I swear it gets better!!! (: Again, forever grateful for all the kind feedback. I truly appreciate it. If you asked to be on the tag list and I accidentally forgot, please let me know! 

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Slight insinuation to sexual assault.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 & Chapter 4

Like I said before, I'm good at advertising. Although the cell phone towers are still down, making it harder for me to get the word out about a party in the boneyard, I still know how to get around to the other teenagers on this island.

I sneak in an hour of surfing on the beach, afterwards finding Tourons and even some Kooks. These are the best people to go to when you want word to get around. They're rich and live for gossip. They have the internet and cell phone service, which means they can text their friends and send out tweets. And that is exactly what they do when I'm finished talking to them.

Later, I go with JJ and John B to get the kegs. As they work their magic, somehow securing two, I walk around the lot where most kids who live on the Cut hang out, hoping to score cheap booze from a stranger walking into the beer and beverage store. I use to spend a lot of my weekends here when my dad first disappeared. A small part of me still wants to. It was so easy to forget about my life falling apart when I was too wasted to form a complete sentence.

I tell them about the party and tell them to tell their friends and so on.

As I expect, the empty boneyard fills up quickly. To Kie's dismay, almost every kid has a red solo cup in their hand instead of a reusable one by the time the sun sets. Music and the chants of people playing drinking games fill my ears like a bird chirping on a Sunday morning.

Beer dribbles down my chin and onto my pink v neck crop top. JJ has his arm linked around mine, also chugging his drink, trying to down his before me. However, I beat him by one gulp and slam my cup on the sand as triumph.

"Seriously, Mar?" Kie scolds. She picks up my cup and throws it away.

JJ just smiles at me, maybe even looks at me with some kind of pride. It's hard to beat JJ in any drinking match, but I'm his biggest competition. I usually lose against him, but sometimes I have my nights where I'm undefeated.

He points his finger at me, pretending to be mad without losing the smile on his face. He takes a menacing step forward and bends down to lift me over his shoulder. I squeal in surprise and laugh against his back as he swings me around in circles.

When he sets me down, I shove his shoulders playfully. "Looks like you've finally met your match." JJ just shakes his head. "Get me another beer, loser?"

"You're lucky you're cute." He winks.

You can't understand the Outer Banks without understanding the boneyard. It's kinda like a three-layer burrito. There's us and our friends, working-class derelicts. Then, there are the Kooks, the rich second-homers. They're mostly from pouncy-ass boarding schools, just rich trustfarian posers. Our natural enemies. And then, there are the Tourons. Totally clueless. Here for a week on vacation with their families. Chum for the sharks. They're usually my first pick. A night with no attachments and a more than likely chance I'll never see them again.

I walk past Kie, who's sitting on drift wood talking to someone about zodiac signs and horoscopes. And when I pass Pope, I hear him talking about dead bodies and how TV doesn't portray the biological condition of them accurately. I giggle to myself when I see who he's talking to. A really pretty girl who wasn't expecting to get an anatomy lesson from the boy next to her. I make a mental note to work on Pope's flirting tactics.

As I make my way to the back of the beach, I see Sarah Cameron leaning off a fallen lifeguard stand. Her boyfriend, Topper Thornton, is right there with her, trying to get her to come down. Sarah Cameron's known as the Kook princess. Kiara's best friend in the ninth grade, worst enemy in the tenth grade. None of us know why she started hating her all of a sudden. She doesn't like to talk about it so we don't bring it up. However, John B works on Sarah's dad's boat thanks to me.

My teeth clench together at the sight of both of them. The two of them and their friends are the worst Kooks of all. Bad memories prickle my brain like a million tiny needles and the palms of my hands sweat against my solo cup.

I walk to the back of the beach and lean against a tree that's as close to a palm tree as this island is going to see. I like being back here when the sun goes down.  It gives me the perfect view of the party. Watching people laugh and have fun because of a night my friends and I put together makes me feel satisfied. Like I did something to make their day a little more enjoyable.

"Now what's the life of the party doing back here all by herself?" A voice that makes every muscle in my body turn to ice says.

I force myself not to look in his direction. My hands clench tighter around my cup until it bends and beer sloshes on my hand.

"Trying to avoid grimy wandering hands from pompous pricks," I say through clenched teeth. I'm surprised my voice isn't as shaky as I feel. "Go away, Rafe."

Rafe Cameron ignores me and moves to stand in front of me. His blonde hair is slicked back with a gel that's probably more expensive than my entire outfit. He's wearing a salmon pink button up shirt and white shorts. The sight of him makes me sick and I don't know if I want to drink more heavily or throw up and call it a night.

"Oh come on, Marleigh. Let's not pretend like you don't want to finish what we started."

I stand up straighter, feeling bile rise in my throat. "I'd rather rip both of my eyes out with a spoon." My insult wipes his stupid cocky grin off his smug face. At first I take it as a compliment, but the look in his eyes chills me to the bone. "Get out of here, Rafe. I'm not going to tell you again."

Rafe jerks forward and pushes me back into the trunk of the tree. His forearm presses against my chest, right below my collarbone. I try fighting him off but he's surprisingly strong. His eyes swing back and forth with craze, his pupils large and dilated. He's gotta be on something. Cocaine maybe. I've heard rumors.

"You think you can talk to me like that? After what my dad did for your friends?"

"Your dad only helped them in hopes to cover up the mistake that you made," I seethe, trying to push him away again. I try to keep my breathing even and my eyes unblinking. I don't want him to think I'm afraid of him. Even though I'm scared enough to vomit on his two hundred dollar shoes. "I owe you nothing." There's a pause as Rafe considers his next words carefully. So I push even harder. "You know, if you keep bringing it up, people might overhear and start to talk. I don't know if even your dad could buy the entire island's silence."

"You seriously think you can threaten me? You're nothing but a dirty walking piece of trash Pogue. No one will believe the Cut's biggest whore." Rafe shakes his head. "Remember that next time you think about talking to me like that."

His words cut through me like a stab in the chest, but I try not to let him see that. I push against him, keeping my face pinched and my eyes unwavering. "I'm not the same girl I was eight months ago," I say, finally pushing him away from me.

Back then I was a messed up girl who's dad had just left after a big argument that resulted in him thinking she hated him. All I wanted to do was drown myself with drugs and alcohol in hopes to forget about him, even if that meant following Kie to a Kook party when she was trying to roll around in the Kook life. I was easy to manipulate and take advantage of...easy to hurt. But not anymore.

"You think I'm above hitting a girl?" Rafe breathes heavily, his hands clenched to his side. I struck a nerve. One more and he might actually attack me.

"No," I say honestly. "I don't think you're above anything...or anyone. Including me - a dirty walking piece of trash Pogue." I use his words against him.

Rafe jerks forward and raises his hand to hit me and I'm ready for the blow and a fight back, but someone's voice forces us to halt, stopping us like she just pressed paused on a movie screen.

Kie watches us with wide eyes and glances back and forth between us. She looks both scared and angry. Rafe doesn't even bother looking in her direction. He's more disappointed that she got in his way.

I stand up straight again and walk past him, making sure to shove him backwards with my shoulder. Kie wraps her arm around mine and pulls me in close as she guides me away from him. She looks behind us one last time to make sure Rafe isn't following us. When the coast is clear, she stops and turns to look at me with a stone cold expression.

"What the hell was that?" She says, trying to read my face. "Are you okay?"

I can barely hear her behind the screaming in my head. Dirty walking piece of trash Pogue. The Cut's biggest whore. Who would believe you?

"Fine," I shrug, feigning nonchalance. I look back to where I was just standing. Rafe's gone, but the nausea he left me with isn't.

"Marleigh."

"Seriously, Kie. I'm fine. Just some unresolved built up resentment coming out full-fledged. I can't say I'm surprised. Now that summer's started, we're probably going to see a lot more of them."

Kie sighs and looks at me sympathetically. I hate that look.  "You should tell the boys."

"What? No way!" I snap.

"What if he -"

"He's not going to." I glare at her.

"Why won't you just -"

"So they can think of me as some pathetic little girl who needs protection from some self-centered Kook? Besides, John B and probably JJ will go after him and the last thing either of them need is charges pressed against them."

The noise of people yelling at one another and some cheering stops Kie from fighting back with me. We turn to look towards the water, seeing a crowd form around two people fighting. Dread creeps up my chest. If I had one hundred dollars, I'd bet it all that one of my friends is the center of attention in that crowd.

Kie and I run to them, pushing ourselves to the front. My breath hitches in my throat when I see who's involved. John B and Topper are fighting ankle deep in the ocean, each one getting a few good punches in.

"John B, stop!" I yell. I don't care who started the fight or why Topper deserves to get beaten to shit. If John B gets caught, the two of us are more than screwed with DCS.

"We're suppose to be incognito, remember?" Pope yells at my brother next to me.

"Babe!" Sarah yells at her boyfriend, jerking back and forth, trying to grab him by the shirt to pull him back. But his movements are scrappy. Sarah would just get hurt.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" The crowd around us cheer like it's a high school wrestling match and not my brother, the one that threw them this party by the way. I can't believe people find this as a source of entertainment. Half of them wouldn't even last a second if they were the one's getting beaten to a pulp.

Topper gets the upper hand and throws John B into the water. I flinch from the pain that must of caused to John B's back.

"Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?" Topper says.

In that moment my vision turns red and a switch flips in my body. I picture my hands around Topper's neck and him begging for me to let him go - him taking back those words.

When I step into the water to reach him, arms wrap around my waist, stopping me from going forward. I glare at the blonde Pogue and try shoving him away from me but that only makes his grip on me tighten.

"JJ, let me go," I grunt.

"Sorry, pretty girl. Can't do that." His lips are so close that I can feel his breath.

John B tackles Topper to the ground and punches him in the face again.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"John B, let it go!" Kie screams. "Stop, you guys!"

Topper kicks John B's feet from under him and just like that, JB is back in the water. The Kook kneels next to him and punches my brother across the face before shoving his head into the water.

"Topper stop!" I yell.

"Come on John B!" Pope yells.

Topper lets John B come up for air before dunking him back in. I feel my chest tighten when I realize what Topper is going to do, whether he means to or not.

"JJ, please! He's going to kill him! JJ!" I cry against his hold.

"Come on, Man!" Topper taunts John B, keeping his head under water.

I'm going to kill him, I think. The second JJ lets go, I'm going to rip Topper apart.

"Topper, stop! No!" Sarah cries.

"Pope!" JJ says, swinging me around before pushing me into our other friend's arms. "Hold her."

"What? No!" I fight back but even Pope is stronger than I give him credit for.

JJ disappears to God knows where and I'm left watching like a stranded duck. I feel useless, like I should be doing more to help my brother. Everything I said to Rafe only minutes ago goes straight out the window. Maybe I am weak and still a girl who needs protecting.

Then the world freezes. JJ holds the gun we found in the motel to Topper's head, not only making Topper pause, but the rest of the crowd too. Pope releases his hold on me and I stumble away from him. I only watch the scene unfold in front of me with wide eyes.

"Yeah, you know what that is," JJ says, clicking the safety off the gun. "Your move, broski."

"Come on!" Pope yells. "Chill dude!"

"Stop! JJ!" Sarah cries. "Put the gun down!"

"Did you say something princess?" JJ turns towards Sarah and points his gun at the sky.

"We're good. We're good." Topper stumbles away from my brother to stand in front of his girlfriend.

The second he backs away, I'm in the water helping John B. I pull his upper back into my lap and push his hair out of his face. He coughs up a couple gulps of water before relaxing against me.

"Kie! Can you check your psycho friend, please!" Sarah yells.

"Okay, everyone, listen up!" JJ addresses everyone else who still watch in fear. "Get the hell off our side of the island!" He fires two bullets into the sky, causing people to shriek and cry around me.

"Are you crazy?" Kie yells at him. "Why do that?"

"I'm saving his life, okay?" JJ yells back at her.

When people begin dispersing, Pope runs into the water to help me lift John B back to shore. He's in a daze and barely able to stand on his own.

The four of them help me drag him back to the Chateau, the party long forgotten. Kie covers John B with blankets and places a glass of water on the nightstand for when he wakes up. I don't say anything as the night wraps up. I'm not mad at JJ like Pope and Kie. He did what he had to do to save John B. Topper could have killed him and the police would probably chop it up as an accident and I would be left with no family.

"You guys should go," I say.

I just want to be alone. Between Rafe and Topper, all I can think about is sleep so I can wake up to a new day. Start over and try again.

"Are you sure?" JJ asks, looking between my eyes to find any sign for him to stay.

As much as I want JJ to stay the night and let me cuddle into him like the night before, it's best if I'm alone. So I reluctantly nod.

"You can stay at mine tonight, JJ," Pope offers.

I offer a weak smile before turning around to lock myself in my room. When I hear the door to the Chateau close one last time for the night, I sigh deeply and stare up at my ceiling. I'm restless, anxious, sweaty. As much as I want sleep, sleep doesn't want me. I toss and turn hoping for a wave of darkness to hit me but it never does.

I glance at my clock. 3:04 AM. I roll my eyes and groan to myself, pushing myself up against my bed's headboard. I tip toe out of the Chateau and make my way down to the dock. I dip my toes in the water and lay back against the wooden slacks. The moon's half crescent illuminates the water, dark with a mystery glint. It's cold against the night, feeling refreshing against my skin.

Even my mind isn't tired. My head wanders with different thoughts. Rafe, Topper, Scooter, the gun...my dad. His words echo through my ears like a skipping record. The night before he disappeared he told John B and I that he might have to vanish for a bit. This only caused a major fight to brew between my father and I whereas John B only nodded and said okay. I think this is why John B still holds on to hope that he's alive somewhere.

John B was always the loyal one to my father. Although they fought almost as much as my dad and I, they were quick to move on and pretend like it wouldn't happen again. Even though it always did. He tried to help my dad keep me on track with school, friends, and other activities. Most of the time, he just joined in on my antics. Sometimes I regret not giving my dad enough credit. He was a single father to Pogue twins with the distraction of his own obsession. My last words to him haunt me every day I pass his office.

"I hate you!" I screamed. I didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing my tears. I wanted him to know I was strong and that I didn't need him. I think my main intention was to hurt him like he hurt me, but I would do anything to take it back.

                                                  ~ ~ ~

I wake up to the low rumble of an engine and the crunch of gravel underneath some tires. I blink away the sleep in my eyes, looking out into the marsh. The sun is above me, warming the entire island with it's summer heat so early in the morning.

My back aches as I sit myself up. I twist to find the noise that woke me up.

"Shit," I curse when I see the cop car parked in front of the Chateau.

Sheriff Peterkin sees me walking up my yard and waits for me to approach her before barging into my house. I squint against the morning light. Even though I'm not in the mood for a pop in, I actually like Peterkin. She's the only one I trust to do her job right.

"I hope you brought some coffee," I say before opening the door for her.

"This will be quick," She says. I watch her eyes scan my kitchen and living room judgmentally. "Where's your brother?"

I point to his room. Peterkin gives me a look to go first. I sigh, knocking twice on the door before letting myself in. John B is still passed out. Half of his body hangs off the bed. His left eye is officially black and blue, a mark I know Peterkin won't subtly ignore. It's the first thing she sees and gives me a sideways glance. I cross my arms and look away.

John B blinks up at us when he hears our footsteps. His brows furrow in confusion, sleep still fogging his head.

"Get decent, sweetie," Peterkin says. "We need to talk."

As we wait for JB to get dressed, I sit on the pull out couch in my living room, fumbling with my thumbs until he appears, dressed in an open button up and swim trunks. He glances between Peterkin and I for some answers but neither of us give him any.

"Sorry to break in like this," She says, pacing the floor. John B stands next to me with his arms crossed. "But DCS called. They wanted me to check on you. See how you two are doing." Neither of us answer. "So, how are you, besides -" She points to JB's shiner and I hold myself back from rolling my eyes. So far so good!

"Oh, no, I'm - I'm great," John B says, shrugging like our life is just full of rainbows and butterflies. "Yeah, fantastic. Uh... thanks for coming by."

Peterkin just smirks. "I'm so glad to hear you say that, John B, but I heard a few things that worried me. Let me see if I can remember. Oh yeah. One of the things I heard was that your Uncle Teddy, your guardian, hasn't been in the state for three months."

"Yes he has -"

Peterkin cuts me off. "You don't have to say anything. I know it's true. I called the school. They said you used to be a good student," She says, looking at John B. Then she looks at me. "You not so much. But John they say now you're failing all your classes."

"No. No, I'm only failing one and it's history. He's a dick. He's out for me - "

"I heard," Peterkin continues, not giving a damn about John B's bullshit excuses, "there was a fight on the beach yesterday, and a gun was involved."

My eyes snap up to look directly at Peterkin. I feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. What else was she going to ask? Would JJ get in trouble? Are we going to jail?

"Okay, gun?" John B plays dumb. "No. Did I get in a  dustup? Yeah, but was there a gun? No. No way," He scoffs.

"That's okay I know who it was. I'll get to him. All I'm worried about right now is making sure you're in a safe home."

"Yeah," I say. "Super safe."

John B knocks the table next to him. "Super sound, sturdy. You know?"

"Uncle T's coming so..." I say to get John B to stop talking. He's a lot of things but a good liar isn't one of them.

"That's what he told you?" Peterkin looks at me with a raised brow.

"Yeah."

"If he is coming," Peterkin picks up a cigarette and sniffs it. "I think you should be allowed to stay."

"Thank you."

"But if I stick my neck out for you, you have to help me. Tit for tat."

John B tilts his head in confusion. "What - what does tat mean?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and let my head fall back. I swear I'm going to buy duct tape to keep this boy's mouth shut.

Peterkin ignores him. "Let me see, how can you help me? Oh, I know. So, a body was found in the marsh yesterday. Were you in the marsh yesterday?"

"Yeah," I decide to answer. "We were fishing for some drum."

"You catch anything?"

"Nah, we were skunked."

"Strange," She says, not believing me. "Fishing's usually good after a storm. All sorts of things get stirred up. You come across a wreck yesterday?"

"No." My heart falls deeper,  but I try to keep a straight face.

This makes Peterkin sigh and she glances between the two of us. "You two are skimmin' just above the surface. Now, down here is foster care, juvie," She says, dropping her hand to about knee length. "Pretty big drop for smart kids like the both of you." She moves her hand to eye level. "Up here is you and your little friends doing whatever you want. Outer Banks...or foster care on the mainland." I let her threat swim in my brain. "You one inch above the surface, Routledge. If I was you, I'd start flapping my wings." She looks at us one last time, no longer wanting to play games. "Now, you sure you didn't come across a wreck yesterday?" She looks at John B who's more likely to blab than me.

I look up at my brother, warning him that he needs to lie.

He shrugs his shoulder, the lie sliding across his tongue like silk. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm sure."

Peterkin looks between John B and I and nods slowly. "It's better if you didn't, you understand? I'm gonna look the other way as long as you stay out of the marsh." She runs her finger along the wooden kitchen table and rubs the dust between her fingers. "I got dogs living better than this. You might wanna think about cleaning' up."

Peterkin lets herself out without saying goodbye. John B and I don't say anything until her car pulls out of the driveway and only then do we just share a look that says how screwed we both are.

Tag List: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @jeeperky @realistic-breadstick @moniamaybank @urbinoutfiters​ @brebear121​

[tendouluvr]

bakugō helping you clean your room - gn reader

- fluff, comfort

- warnings: doesnt exactly say depression but can be implied? reader will just say they lost motivation lately and felt like they couldn’t do anything bc its been a hard time but im leaving it as vague as possible so anyone can imply anything really, no swearing <3

- wc: 983

a/n: :o first writing post!! i got this idea when i saw a vid on my yt rec and it was a clean in real time w me vid i love cleaning vids

baku a lil ooc i think not sure i didnt wanna make him sound too harsh bc reader doesnt need that attitude rn but i hope he still sounds blunt enough for him to be bkg

p.s. this isnt edited and written in proper grammar. i use u, ur, lowercase, literally how i text so just a heads up. i’ll come back and rewrite this properly one day maybe

#! bakugō😑 hes loud

#! enters ur room by stomping until he realizes that there isnt floor space to stomp

#! adruptly stops and lets out one of his little “oh?” while he stares at ur lying body on the bed with ur head stuffed in between two pillows

#! “baby?” and he’ll get a grunt and a whine from u in return

#! “ur rooms a little... do u need help?” he mumbles

#! u slowly get up and look at him from across the room while mumbling something

#! “what? speak up”

#! he maneuvers his way thru ur room to u

#! “i said i havent had the motivation to do anything lately. its been hard for me to do much to be honest. im sorry it’s so messy, i know this wasnt what u were expecting when u came in”

#! “tch, don’t apologize. ur fine. i’ll clean it. wanna help?”

he starts clearing out all of the dirty laundry laying around ur room and while he does that u take ur time picking up some cups around ur desk area. u placed the used cups, some still had water and some was empty, into an empty basket laying around so u can bring it all out to the kitchen at once.

bakugō works fast so he was already done with picking up the dirty laundry and was now folding and hanging ur clean laundry thats just been sitting in the corner of ur room waiting to be put away.

“do u want to time urself? or do some countdown to help u stay focus or something?” bakugō asked u once he saw that u got distracted with some keychain on ur desk.

“hmm? oh, sure! sorry i just haven’t seen that keychain in a while heh.”

“it’s fine. here, use my phone and give urself however much time u need.”

“thank u katsu~,” u said, grabbing his phone and giving urself 10 minutes to pick up the remaining cups (and a plate but lets not talk abt that), go to the kitchen, and come back.

u made it back with almost 3 minutes remaining and decided to lay back down until the timer went off. bakugō was finishing up the last bit of ur laundry and was just organizing ur closet.

u heard the closet door close and brought ur head up to see bakugō walking towards u on the bed. he brought his arms out and u sat up to wrap ur arms around his waist while he’s standing, hugging ur shoulders.

“good job, baby. im hella proud of u. do u wanna keep resting? i can clean the rest.”

“no! i’ll help, what do i do?”

he lets out a low chuckle and tells u that u can go get a big trash bag from the kitchen so u guys can throw away any junks found while cleaning ur desk and shelves. bakugō began vacuuming, seeing that the floor was pretty much clear from any clutter that could get in the way, while u left to do ur task.

when u came back with the trash bag and some disinfecting wipes, he was halfway done vacuuming so u decided to start clearing out one of ur shelves. this was one of a few u have that holds some random books and figures that just so happens to be in ur room (yk those random stuff u find in ur room that u dont know where it came from but u do know abt it, yea im talking abt those)

u took everything out to wipe the shelf with the disinfecting wipes and then began sorting thru ur items so ur shelf can be less clustered. a little humming and sorting later, u finally decided on what to keep and what to throw and started putting it all back onto ur shelf.

bakugō just finished vacuuming and went over to u to help clean the other shelves so it’ll be done faster. he chose the top three shelves and took everything off at once. he wiped down all three and started sorting thru ur belongings, asking u now and then if u wanna keep something because he wasn’t sure. soft humming could be heard from u and echoing hums could be heard from bakugō.

bakugō has a good memory so he remembers where everything is suppose to go, so dont worry ur pretty little head abt him messing up ur stuff. after all, he does care abt u and everything related to u.

u were done with the two shelves he left u, so u went over to ur desk and repeated the taking everything out, wiping it down, and sorting process all over again for every corner of ur desk. bakugō eventually finished and came over to help ur last bit.

u were sitting on ur desk chair rearranging a small figure u have of ur favorite character from ur favorite show when bakugō suddenly lifted u up so he can sit on the chair and u on his lap.

u gasped at this and held onto his arms while he tightens his grip on u. after a moment and u guys settled down, u went back to ur figure while bakugō stuffed his soft face into the nape of ur neck. he leaves kisses on ur neck and shoulder before finally resting his chin onto ur shoulder.

“u did a great job today. if u ever need help remember im here for u, angel. u dont have to feel bad over something u cant control. i’ll keep telling u until it’s drilled into ur head, you’ll even hear it in ur sleep.”

at the last sentence u let out a quick laugh, but nodded ur head telling him u understand.

“i love u katsu.”

“hmm, love u more.”

[unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix]

“The Tall Man” Rewrite

Summary: A few additional moments and scenes from “The Tall Man” episode.

A Jemily comfort fic again, this time with JJ.

Read on AO3

“Breakfast is served.” JJ set out two plates of wheat bread, scrambled eggs, and green grapes for Henry and Michael.

“Now what do we say, boys?” Emily said, appearing from the kitchen behind JJ.

“Thank you,” their sons said in unison.

“You’re welcome,” JJ answered.

Emily held two cups of coffee for JJ and herself, kissing the blonde’s cheek when she gave one cup to her. JJ smiled and thanked her wife.

“Any special requests while we’re here?” JJ asked the boys.

“May I have some ketchup with my eggs?” Henry piped up first.

Michael followed after, “Can I have lime juice?”

Emily and JJ looked at each other before bursting into laughter. “Lime juice?!” the blonde mother playfully exclaimed. “What? On your eggs?”

“I’ll go get some,” she said, ruffling her youngest son’s blonde hair and going to the kitchen.

A buzz was heard from the kitchen table and Emily took a look at her phone, receiving a text from Penelope. As she read the message, her eyes widened. JJ’s not gonna like this, she thought and clicked her tongue.

On cue, JJ came back with a glass of lime juice for Michael and saw Emily’s worried expression. She frowned at her, “What’s wrong? Is there a case?”

The older woman slowly nodded, “Yeah. Penelope just texted.” JJ took the phone from Emily and looked over the message. Her body stiffened and eyes widened as memories flashed back to her. “East Allegheny,” she blinked.

“Your hometown,” Emily stated.

JJ sighed. “I swore I would get out of there and never go back.”

“Look, Jen, if this is all too much, I’ll tell Penelope to look after you,” Emily offered. JJ told Emily before that she never wanted to go back to her hometown because it brought too many painful memories for her. Emily respected her wishes and kept her word.

The blonde shook her head, “No. I have to go. Right?”

“If you feel it’s right,” Emily gave a neutral answer, knowing she can’t control her wife’s decisions. “The case is in the woods, two girls missing. In Dead Man’s Conservatory.”

“Wait, wait. Where?” JJ backtracked Emily’s words, looking at the text again.

“Dead Man’s Conservatory. Is that important?”

Emily pinned a victim’s picture up on the clear board. “Ok, so let’s roll with this for a second. Bethany has a secret boyfriend. He doesn’t want to be exposed, neither does she. But then, Chelsea gets her hands on something neither one wants her to have.”

“Yeah,” JJ nodded. “I think I know what they were looking for."

“Right,” JJ absentmindedly responded, nodding.

“So, the jewelry has to be the key to all of it. What motivates them to this extreme?”

All of a sudden, Emily’s voice becomes a little distant to JJ. The blonde conjures up a memory she had been locking away in the past as she nodded along to what Emily was saying.

“JJ?” Emily’s voice became soft when she saw her wife distracted, her professional voice breaking.

The blonde looked up at her, breaking through her cursed memory.

“Do you want to talk about it?” The unit chief gave her a sympathetic look with her eyes softening.

JJ blankly stared at Emily for a few seconds, contemplating on telling her why she’s been off during the whole case. She lightly shook her head and bit her lip.

“Look, ever since we took this case, all of these…” she exhaled out a breath before continuing, “memories are coming back, and they are not good memories, you know.”

“About Roslyn?”

“Yeah. Like, that morning she took my father’s razor,” JJ started. “I found her. And I just stood there. Frozen. For probably 10 minutes. It’s like my brain couldn’t, um, comprehend what I was seeing.”

She started softly crying at the memory, sniffling. “You know, sometimes l think- I think that’s why I took this job. So I’d always know what to do. So, I’d never freeze again. So, can you- can you give me something to do, Emily? Because I am starting to freeze up again,” JJ’s voice cracked as she blinked her tears away.

Emily checked to see if the office door and window blinds were closed before stepping closer to her blonde wife. She knew it wasn’t the appropriate time or place, but she wrapped her arms around JJ's back and pulled her head close to her chest. JJ reciprocated by wrapping her arms around Emily’s waist and quietly sobbing into her body.

“Shh, shh…” the older agent cooed. “It’s ok, just let it all go. I’m right here.” She rubbed her back in a soothing manner.

“I miss her, Emily,” JJ cried.

“I know. I know," Emily kissed the top of her head. After a few moments, JJ calmed down and slowly pulled back, wiping away her tears.

“Are you ok?”

JJ nodded and cleared her throat, “I think so.”

“Ok,” the unit chief softly kissed her lips and JJ relaxed in the contact. The younger woman gave a small smile, “Thanks.”

JJ was staring through Chelsea’s hospital room window as rage started to build up in her body. She gripped onto the necklace she had taken off when Chelsea pointed it out to her, instantly coming to a realization when she did.

Emily pulled back and nodded. She ran her fingers through JJ’s soft blonde hair, tucking some behind her ear. She then picked up a file. “Luke and Tara are going back to Ally. They are going to use the EMDR technique on her. It’s supposed to be especially effective with schizophrenics...”

“JJ,” Emily called out, walking towards her.

“They had to induce a coma, and we misjudged,” JJ turned to her wife. “The boyfriend, we thought he was a teenager. A peer. Well,” she bitterly chuckled. “He’s older. Much older.”

“How do you know?”

She held up the necklace to Emily with angry, trembling fingers. “Chelsea saw this around my neck. The look in her eyes was recognition.”

“The jewelry the unsub gave Bethany,” Emily noted, piecing together what JJ had found.

“Same one. He gave this to Roslyn, who gave it to me. God only knows how many other girls there’s been since then.” She shut her eyes and gritted her teeth, “I have been wearing this around my neck, his trophy, this whole time.”

Emily cautiously reached out to the blonde. “JJ, we will arrest him.”

JJ had just handcuffed Ethan Howard, their unsub, Roslyn’s older boyfriend and killer and brought him out of the interrogation room. A betrayed Bethany slapped Ethan across the face before being taken into custody as well. JJ, Emily, and Rossi watched as the young girl and unsub left. Emily laid a comforting hand on the small of JJ’s back, and the younger wife eventually relaxed in her touch.

“I know,” JJ nodded. “But when we do, I’m gonna need you to keep me away from him, because if I get a chance, I swear to God, I will kill him.”

“You good, JJ?” Rossi asked.

She nodded, “Yeah.”

“Come on, honey. Let’s go,” Emily softly said and the three walked away. As they were walking to the doors, the unit chief intertwined her fingers with JJ's to comfort her.

JJ and Emily came back home. Emily paid the babysitter and checked on the boys in their rooms. She gave each of them a forehead kiss and smoothed their hair down before going back to her and JJ’s room. JJ let out a heavy sigh and dropped her bag on their bedroom floor before lying down on the bed. Emily laid beside her and pulled her body close to hers. The blonde rested her head on her shoulder, and the older woman ran her fingers through her hair.

JJ took out the gold necklace and ran her thumb over the heart locket. She didn't know what else to do with the necklace. It was her sister's. It held so much meaning to her. So, she put it back inside her pocket and squeezed Emily's hand for reassurance.

“Emily-”

“Shh. Just get some rest, ok? We had a tough case. You did,” Emily whispered.

"I just-" JJ sat up and ran a hand through her hair. "I almost didn't save Bethany in time. She- she would've become… his next trophy. I couldn't save Roslyn then. Bethany could've ended up like her."

Emily sat up, too, and reached out to touch her wife's hands. "JJ, this is not your fault, ok? Don't put yourself down like this."

JJ nodded and sighed, “I’m sorry.” She slumped her shoulders and glanced down at their joined hands, playing with Emily's gentle fingers. "I just really miss her. Ros always gave up her time for me, helped me whenever I got hurt, and… I looked up to her a lot. I even wanted to play soccer because of her," she smiled fondly at the memory of her sister. “She even told me I was a badass."

Emily chuckled along with her, “Well, she’s right. You are a badass.” She kissed her lips and pulled back to look at her. "Roslyn would've been proud of what you did with the case. You did her justice and she would’ve been grateful for that."

JJ slowly nodded and bit her lip. Emily’s right. She did bring justice for her sister, and Roslyn would’ve thought it was badass. The blonde agent quietly chuckled to herself as she remembered Roslyn's words from before, "...he'll know not to mess with Jennifer Jareau. 'Cause she's a total badass.”

"Now, get some sleep. You need it," Emily's voice quietly broke through and JJ felt herself being pulled back down. She laid her head on Emily's shoulder and snuggled back into her body.

The next day, Emily was in her office, fixing a small black box for her wife. Earlier that noon, she had used the last 15 minutes of her lunch break to “run an errand” at the jewelry store, leaving a confused JJ behind because she usually ate with her. When Emily was done with her finishing touches, she went outside her office to see JJ at her desk, concentrating on her reports.

Emily let her wife fall asleep first. She thought about the necklace JJ had before they learned it was a painful and awful reminder of what happened with Roslyn before. She noticed JJ taking the necklace out at the police precinct and made a mental note to go to the jewelry store tomorrow.

“JJ, I need to see you for a moment,” Emily called out across the bullpen, using her stern unit chief voice.

“Ooh, looks like you’re in trouble, JJ,” Matt joked, looking up from his paperwork. JJ playfully rolled her eyes and shook her head before heading upstairs to see her wife.

The blonde profiler followed Emily into her office, closing the door behind her, “What’s up?”

The unit chief grabbed the box from her desk, “I got you something earlier while you were busy.”

JJ took the box from her and slowly opened it. She quietly gasped at the sight. It was a gold necklace, similar to the one Roslyn gave her, but there was a minor difference. The locket was not heart-shaped, but a different one.

“Blackbird,” JJ noticed and looked up at Emily.

The unit chief nodded and pointed at the locket, “Look what’s inside.” The blonde picked it up from the box and opened the locket, revealing two pictures: one of Henry and Michael on one side and the one of Roslyn and JJ on the other side. Emily had enlisted some of Penelope’s help with the photos to fit the locket size. Tears started to form in JJ’s eyes as she ran her thumbs along the pictures inside.

The older woman softly smiled, “I hope you like it.”

JJ nodded and smiled, “I do. I love it so much.” She kissed her and Emily grabbed the necklace from her hand. The blonde wife turned around, brushing her hair aside. Emily clasped the necklace closed when she put it around her neck.

JJ turned back around to face Emily and looked down to toy with her new necklace. She gave a tearful smile and kissed the brunette for a few seconds, resting her forehead against hers after, “Thank you, Emily.”

Emily smiled back, “For what?”

"For understanding. For being there when I needed you," the blonde answered, playing with the fabric on the shoulder of her wife’s work shirt.

"I will always be here for you, JJ. You know that," Emily kissed her forehead.

“I know. I love you.”

“I love you, too, JJ,” the older woman said and pulled her into a tight embrace.

JJ smiled and kissed her again, this time deepening it. She lightly pushed Emily against her desk and her hands blindly found her boss’s belt buckle, attempting to undo it.

“Babe, we have work to do. Those reports aren’t going to finish themselves,” Emily murmured and chuckled.

“Mm-mm, I want to properly thank you,” JJ said, kissing Emily’s jawline. “I’m determined to make you finish first.”

The brunette lightly laughed and pulled away, with JJ slightly frowning at the loss of contact. Emily kissed her cheek and offered to make a deal, “How about this? We get off work at around 5, so I’ll let you have your way with me then.”

JJ’s eyes lit up as she nodded. She kissed her one more time and hugged her again. JJ rested her head on Emily’s shoulder as her fingers played with the blackbird locket again.

The blackbird was very significant to JJ. Not only did it mean a code for danger to her, but it also meant courage and change. JJ thought about how she grew up the person she is today, but she couldn’t have done it without Roslyn in her younger years and Emily in her older years. Her sister helped her learn how to find herself when she was younger, and her wife built JJ to become the stronger version of herself later on. It’s no wonder why Emily chose a blackbird for the locket. It’s because that’s how the unit chief saw JJ: hopeful and brave.

[poeticblissme]

Open up

Pairing:  Min Yoongi x Reader 

Genre: Fluff, Mild angst, Smut   

Prompt: After months of dating, you finally tell Yoongi exactly what he means to you. 

Word Count: 4,781 

Warnings:  Mentions of depression, fingering, cl*t licking,  

A/N: I have been home for a while, and my responsibilities can finally take a break. I can write again, free of all this stress and let me say it feels so good. I hope you all like this, I have not written in so long so it may be a bit rusty around the edges.  

Feedback appreciated. 

It truly was interesting, the aspect of having someone to confide in when things are too tough for one to handle. No matter what the circumstance, you tried to be that person for all those who were close to you.  You were their shoulder to cry on, the one they came to for advice on any and every situation, good or bad. You were the one who everyone trusted to make them feel better when they felt like nothing, or when they just simply needed a friend. 

Maybe it was the fact in your own life you never really had that type of support system.  Though you were well provided for physically, with a welcoming home, a good paying job, and pleasant memories of friends and family, it did not change the fact that when it came to your emotional well being, you were just not as provided for. Whenever you tried to confide in anyone, they seemed to either blow off your concerns, not really receive what you were trying to convey, or not care about what you felt at all. It seemed as if, no matter how much you were there for others, there was little to no care for your own well being.  

It was not that you were bitter about it, or that you were expecting everyone to return the favor for you being there for them, that was not the point of your kindness at all. It was more of a personal wish to have someone understand that even though you will happily make anyone see the light in their dark situation, you were a human being who had problems too, even when you don’t physically show that there was anything wrong. 

You truly felt it was a wasted effort, but not because of anyone else. Truthfully, you knew deep down that it was your own fault. You were an introvert, and unfortunately for you, the guilt you felt when even thinking of your own issues made it close to impossible for you to open up to anyone without feeling unworthy, or wrong for sharing what made you feel so rotten, if you could even pinpoint why you were feeling so down. 

These constant thoughts of inadequacy and unworthiness were the very reason you had so much trouble opening up to your newest boyfriend, who was only the second one you have ever had. The first did not work out, because, well to put it plainly, he was too clingy. You valued your individuality, and being around people too much was very draining, it was nothing personal, and you did like him, but he wanted to much from you that you could not give him. You were not ready to just give yourself to someone so fully and drastically, and to stay with him to sort out your own personal grievances, all the while not giving him his own emotional needs was is no way fair to him. So, with a heavy heart, and a guilty mind, you let him go. 

When Min Yoongi first appeared in your life is was completely by accident. He had been going to walk out the door of the cafe you were in, most likely going to his morning job, when someone bumped into him, sending him backwards toward your table. The coffee he had in his hand slipped and spilled, marking your paperwork that you had spent countless hours perfecting in large dark brown splatter patterns along ever inch of the printed paper.

“You have got to be joking!” You screeched, your hands going to your hair in shock. 

You eyed your work in disbelief, there was no way you could turn this into your boss now, this was no simple stain on the edge of the paper. No, the brown liquid basically covered each page through and through! This meant you would have to retype everything, every single detail you had foolishly deleted from your saved files on your laptop because you did not want any clutter. 

“Oh shit, I am so so sorry miss,.” Came a voice from beside you. It was deep, husky even. The first thought that came to your mind was how if whoever it was speaking to you had his own radio show, the ears of whoever chose to listen were in for quite the treat. 

You looked up, a small sigh leaving your lips as you finally gave yourself a chance to breathe. Your eyes focused as you finally had a face to match the mystical voice that rang through your ears. The gentleman was average height, at least to you. He had short blonde hair, the edges covering his forehead completely, and his eyes only slightly.  His skin was a delicate creamy color, carefully accentuating the brown of his delicate eyes. He wore a long black overcoat, followed by a black turtleneck, which was proper for the current cold that graced the town, along with dark blue jeans, which were held up by a tight freshly bought black belt. 

“No, no don’t worry.” You started, forcing yourself back to reality. Had you been staring to long? You reached to the side of the table, grabbing the few loose napkins that remained from your breakfast to begin wiping up the spill. “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

“Those papers looked pretty important, considering how hard you were starring at them.” He noted, his brows creasing in concern. He handed you a couple napkins, all the while behind down and helping you wipe the last of the coffee from the table top. 

He was watching you? Well, you shouldn’t be shocked. It is common for others to people watch while waiting for their order. Or maybe he was talking about when you helplessly watch as the large quantity of coffee spilled all over your precious papers. “They are just papers for my job, I have a thesis to give to my boss in the next couple days.” 

“How long have you been working on this?” He asked, taking the napkins off the table and disposing them in the nearby garbage can. 

“A couple you weeks.” you admitted with a sigh, looking down at the drenched papers. If you thought about it, maybe this was karma, you would not put it past the magic of the universe to come back and bite you for something, it seemed to do that more often than not these days. “I was almost finished with it, but I’ll have to retype everything now.” 

“I really am so sorry about this.” He spoke sitting in the chair across from your own. “Someone bumped into me and I lost balance-” 

“Really, it’s no trouble, I was not completely happy with what I had anyway, this way while I do the retypes I can take more time and make it even better than before.” 

You looked up at him and smiled sweetly, trying with all your might to subdue the negative thoughts circling in your head. He returned the gesture by giving you the most adorable gummy smile you had ever witnessed. Wow, what a beautiful human being. 

“Well, is there anything I can do to make up for this terrible circumstance Miss?” 

“Y/N, please. Miss is a bit to professional for my taste and unless you have a laptop on you to help me revise and fix these rewrites, I am okay.” 

“Well, Y/N, you can call me Yoongi, and as luck would have it, I actually do have a laptop in my car.”

You looked at him in shock, not sure how to handle the situation put in front of you. Could he not see that you were joking? You were not really trying to force him to help you over something so small. You really have to work on the tone of your voice when you speak. Now you have made the poor guy feel obligated to help you. 

“Oh Yoongi no, I was totally kidding you don’t have to-”

“Nonsense.” He spoke, with a wave of his hand. “I made the mess after all, the least I can do is help you retype a few papers, besides, I am pretty good with words myself, so I can help make the paper even better than you originally planned, I’ll be right back.” 

With a small wink in your direction, he sat up from his seat and made his way outside. He came back within what seemed a few seconds, with a small black laptop in hand. Perching himself across from you, he plugged the charger into the outlet and took a few of the coffee stained papers to turn in his direction. 

You eyed him with such surprise it made him question if he has something on his face, to which you shook your head. What was he doing this for? it was not like he forced the guy to bump into him, accident happen. You should know. 

“Okay, so, I will need a little bit of a background on what you are writing about, that way I know how to give proper advice how how everything should flow, you know all that good stuff.” He spoke, his gummy smile returning once more, as he began to type the first page in his grasp.

XX

After a few hours of collaboration with Yoongi, you exchanged numbers, his excuse being he wanted to hear the official results of your paper. You could only  imagine his state of happiness when you texted him three days later, explaining to him how your boss had practically leaped with joy at how much detail and work that was put into everything he had reviewed. Yoongi was quite pleased with the result and in turn asked you out to a celebratory dinner, his treat, you accepted without a moments hesitation. 

Eventually, one date turned into three, those dates turned into house visits and movie nights, and now, after eight long months, you were in a very balanced relationship, one you had no idea would mean more to you than life itself.  It was weird, your last relationship had lasted about two months before you had called it quits, and even in that time frame, you had so many doubts about where it was going if you truly liked the person you were with, and if it had been something your heart and mind truly wanted. 

With Yoongi, it was so much more. He gave you space when you needed, and you gave him space when he needed it. He was there for your lowest points, and you were there for his. It was a steady flow of support and balance that you never thought you would feel in your life. Perhaps it meant that much more to you because this was a gradual change. He had given you the time you needed to truly start opening up to him. He knew what it was like to be shy, to hold parts of yourself from the world in fear or hidden guard. You could see in some ways that you were the same in that regard, which is probably why he knew about your mental needs and wants more than you had expected. 

He was always so patient with you, willing to wait for when things were acceptable on your time, and you gave him that same respect in return. If he wanted to talk, you would listen, if he was not in the mood, you would not push unless needed. With time, being neglected was no longer apart of the norm, that feeling of indifference and seclusion was now filled with love and openness. You found yourself wanting to share more with him, to let him into your life, to share the burdens you have felt for so long without feeling guilty. Yoongi, whether he realized it or not, made you feel good enough. 

That feeling of never ending appreciation and fondness, was what brought you to this very moment. You had texted Yoongi, stating how there was something you needed to share with him over dinner, something important. How important it was was supposedly a matter of opinion, but now that your mind and body have built this line of trust with him, it was only fair to him that you share your true thoughts on how much this relationship has affected you, how it continues to affect you. 

He of course agreed to your little date, and once the day finally came, you did anything and everything to make sure that the night was perfect, not only for him, but for your own state of mind. You made his favorite foods, you wore the tight red shirt and black jeans he said he loved to see you in, you even went as far as to light some candles (nothing wrong with setting the mood right?). Everything was catered to his liking, everything you chose to present to him tonight was something that made him happy, and seeing him happy, made you happy. 

You sat next to each other on the couch in your apartment living room, sharing the meal you had prepared. By the way he was silently eating on the plate in front of him, you could tell he thoroughly like what you had made. If he was silent during the meal that meant he was completely focus on the food in front of him, which is something you did as well. Nothing like good food to bring a comfortable silence to the table of lovers. 

“Okay, consider me officially spoiled.” He spoke, wiping his mouth with his napkin. He places the used paper on the plate that rested on the table in front of him. “This was delicious, I also see your wearing my favorite outfit.” 

You smiled, a small blush spread across on your cheeks as you responded. “Yeah, I know you like this outfit best, so-”

“Well I do love it.” He responded, turning to face you. “Tonight has been perfect Y/N, Seriously. Now, the anticipation is killing me,  what did you want to talk about? By the way this night has gone I am hoping it is good news.” 

“Well It is!, I mean- Well I hope so, I mean- It....I mean it can be, it is for me anyway-” You stuttered, trying to find the words you had practiced over and over again. 

“Welp, I am full on food and ready to hear it, take your time.” He spoke, leaning back in his seat. You smiled to yourself, like always, he was giving you time, and not dwelling on the fact you seemed to have lost a bit of your confidence. Always so patient. 

“Okay so....well, It’s been eight months since we started dating you know?” You asked, to  which he nodded, letting you continue. “Which I have to say is really crazy! I mean, I have only had one other person before you and that did not work out...as I told you.” 

He smiled, seemingly enjoying how you began to ramble on. 

“And...Well, during these last few months I have not even had one thought about breaking up! Which is totally a compliment by the way. You are always so sweet to me, and so patient and trusting and I just..... I just-.....I just wanted to do something for you that shows you how much I appreciate all this time you have given to me.”

“Y/N...” Yoongi started sitting up once more. He turned his body, causing his left knee to bump into yours. He took your hand in both of his, the smile he sported still on his face. “You show me that every day-” 

“No..let me finish, otherwise I’ll never get this out.” You interrupted. With a small sigh you looked into his eyes and pushed the last bit of confidence you had to the surface. 

“I know we shared I love you’s already, but this is different. I don’t...I don’t open up to people often. Not in the way I have opened up to you. It is hard for me to express my emotions so freely. Whether it’s my parents or old friends, its hard to give your love to someone, only to be broken by them....not purposely of course! but in ways they may not understand because they don’t live inside my head. I can’t make them understand how I feel, not when I can’t even explain it myself.” 

You could feel the tears start to bottle up in your eyes, the weight of your confession was becoming to much, but you wanted to continue, you needed to. 

“Look, I just....I need you to understand that I love you, Yoongi. I truly, deeply, love you, Everything you have done for me, the time you have given me to open up with out judgement, to being the listening ear that I have always dreamed of having, you have done it all, and that has changed my entire life. It is not often I feel so accepted and love.....I don’t think I have ever felt that way, not fully at least. With you, I feel complete. These last few months have changed me for the better and i know that is because of you, I would not be where I am without you, and...I needed you to know that. 

The look in Yoongi’s eyes was unreadable, much like most of the time when he was processing his own emotions. You knew him however, and you could tell by the way his hand squeezed yours tighter, how his eyes searched yours for whatever he was looking for, that he was touched by your confession.

“Y/N...” He finally whispered, pulling his right hand from atop yours to wipe away a tear that had suddenly fallen from your right cheek. “Baby, My precious Baby I love you so much. Neither of us show our emotions outright, but just know my gentle flower, the feeling is forever reciprocated.”

He leaned in, no longer able to keep a distance from you. His lips met yours slowly, as if you were to delicate right now to touch, which in some ways you were. You responded to his touch as if by instinct, leaning further into him to have more of his mouth pressing onto yours. You could feel heat growing in your chest, a sudden feeling of desperation and want clouding your insides. You knew what this was, you knew were this was leading, as you had done it many times before, but there was something different about tonight, there was something deeper, more powerful than about the process leading to the inevitable.  

Your hands detached from each other, the need to touch each other far to mighty to ignore. As your hands went to the back of his hair, and to the side of his left arm, his hands tangled into your hair and to the top of your left hip. 

The kiss began to gain a natural heat, tongue dived into each other, now dancing a beautiful ballet with one another. Hands clasped tighter, doing whatever it took to bring you both closer together. The tug you felt at the back of your head, caused a breathy moan from your lips, forcing you to accept the oxygen you had no idea you were being deprived of. 

“Yoongi..”You moaned again, trying to gain his attention. 

“Baby, I want you so bad,” He spoke, pulling away from your lips to look into your eyes. you could see the lust circling in his eyes, the darkness of his iris's no doubt matched your own. You wanted him too....scratch that... You needed him too. 

“Yoongi I need more..” You whispered, looking down to his lips. “Please...” 

“Your room, come on.” He commanded, shooting up from the couch. His touch left your body, much to your dismay, but you quickly complied, sitting up from the couch and making your way to your now shared bedroom. 

Time seemed to be going a lot faster than you had originally anticipated, you were not able to predict the time it took you to get to your room, nor the time it took for you to strip yourself of all of your clothes, seeing as he always loved it when you were bare before him. 

“Always so beautiful.” He commented, shutting the door behind him. 

His stance turned into the confident predator that he became during times like this, his walk toward you held nothing but power and determination, the type that had your knees weak and your breath short. 

You body was craving his touch, more so that usual, and you knew why. After making yourself so vulnerable, which was something you never did, you needed reassurance. You needed him to show you that what you just did was okay, that he would accept the heart that you had so willingly given him access to. You needed to know that the love was returned. 

He now stood right in front of you, his eyes gliding up and down you naked form in what seemed to be complete adoration. With a small smirk, and click of his tongue, he spoke, “Lay down, and spread those pretty legs for me baby.” He nodded his head to the bed behind you, and as always you were quick to comply to his wish, your ability to resist or play stubborn a mere passing thought in your mind. 

With your legs spread apart, and elbows holding up your upper half, you watched with deep interest as Yoongi eyed your core, his tongue darting out to lick his lips and making your stomach clench in anticipation, sending a wave of wetness to your core. 

“I can see how wet you are.” Yoongi commented, his focus turning to your for a split second before returning to your wet heat. “I haven’t even done anything yet, how could you possibly be this wet?” 

“Guess you just have that affect on me.” You spoke with a smile. 

“Then you should know how hard I am right now then, seeing as you have the same effect on me, princess.” He called out, making your eyes rake down to his lower half, and sure enough, through the fabric of his black jeans was his erection, in it’s glory, growing in front of your very eyes.

You found it sweet that even now, your reactions to each other doing the bare minimum, was as strong as when you had first engaged in sexual activities. It was like your bodies were addicted to one another, and the very idea of getting to touch each other in even the simplest of ways, was enough to have your body aching for more, no matter the circumstance.

“I’m going to devour this sweet, sweet Pussy, would you like that baby? You want me to suck up these sweet juices?” He asked, his voice low, sweet and tempting. He slipped his shirt off in one swift motion, throwing it to the floor to an undisclosed location. He loosened the button on his pants, letting the fly now hang freely open giving him and his crotch the air it needed.

“Yes Yoongi..... Yes, please, I want your tongue in me so bad.” You answered, your voice rushed. “

He smirked as he took his final steps to the bed. He spread your legs while lowering his body, making sure to keep eye contact with you as his face reached closer to the are where you wanted him most.

“It makes me so happy to know that this is all mine.” He spoke, his voice low and seductive. His lips touched upon the skin of your inner left leg, the feeling nothing more than a light peck. “To know that I am the only one who could ever touch something so precious, it drives me wild.”  

You whimpered as his lips traveled lower as they remained on your skin. You could feel the lingering feeling of his luscious lips of every piece of your thigh that he touched, only making you crave more than he was currently giving you. You knew he was doing this on purpose, he wanted to tease you, to make your body ache for him, to make your body push hard to earn what he would give you. 

“Yoongi..” You whined, your hands clenching on the sheets below you. You were about to complain, to use whatever was left of your voice to explain how much you needed him, but it turned into nothing more than a exasperated moan, as his tongue finally came into contact with your soaking core. 

You knew in reality that by the way his fingers slid up and down your thighs, the way he light kissed the insides of your trembling legs to calm you down, you didn’t have to say a single word. 

He breached your inner walls, curving his wet tongue to reach the places he knew would have you squirming and begging for more. His mouth collected your wetness, using it as a lubricant on his desperate lips. He sucked and licked slowly and thoroughly, finding any and every place he could. 

“Fuck..” You began, arching your back. “Fuck, fuck yes Yoongi right there, oh my god yes, yes right there, please keep going, right there, right there, right there keep sucking me.” 

“Mmmhm.” He responded, knowing this would be your response. He raised his right hand in the air letting your eyes note the two digits that lowered slowly until found its way to your aching lips. With studied precision, he entered you, his fingers sliding in and out your wet walls. He made the process agonizingly slow, pulling in and out at the slowest pace he could muster. The rough edges of the tips of his fingers continuously sliding in tune with your movements, making you cry out in want and desperation. You needed him to go faster, the need to have him pushing you to your absolute limit was now a must, he felt to good, he felt so right, his fingers were so powerful you were not sure how you ever went without them for any part of your life. 

He hummed once more against your cunt, sending even more powerful vibrations from his mouth to your throbbing clit. The mixed physical sensations caused your body to twitch in eagerness. Did you forget to mention that he felt so good? Did you forget to mention how much you needed even more of him? You could not remember the thoughts you had conjured up before. You did not know how one man could make you feel like you were on cloud nine whenever he touched you, how one man could use his tongue and push your mind to forget the difference between reality and fantasy. 

Your clit was pulsating with every suck, your pussy was clenching with every touch. The way his fingers entered you over and over again, taking only a few moments to exit your cunt to collect the wetness your body continually produced was driving you crazy. Your stomach was clenching more and more, indicating how close you were to your first real release since all this agonizing teasing began. All you knew was that you were on the edge, and that you needed your daddies permission to let you climb over the edge, just once. If only you could let go for only a moment. 

“Yoongi, Yoongi baby please I’m gonna-” 

“Gonna come for me, my precious flower?” He asked, lifting his mouth from you, but not letting his fingers stop their fast paced in and out motions in your cunt. He knew how much your body could take, he knew what your body needed. “Gonna let me feel you come over my fingers before I fuck you into oblivion? You want me to feel your delectable pussy clench on my fingers?” 

Your breathing began to race at his words, you could feel yourself on the edge, you could feel your body begin to let go. 

“That’s right baby, come for me, let me see those sexy fuckin pussy lips tighten around me. I want to suck your sweet cum juices until you are completely dry baby, I want to show you how much I love you and your body.” 

You could not hold the moan that escaped your lips as you came, the feeling of euphoria washing over you and your desperate body as Yoongi continued to push in and out of you, allowing you to ride out the high he had graciously given you. 

Yoongi watched as your breathing began to steady. That was how he knew what state you were in, and he knew that you, as well as him, craved more, no matter how much you may have liked what he gave you. 

“I am not done with you yet princess.” He spoke, making sure your attention would go to him, despite your tired state, and of course, it did. 

“Oh?” you answered, a small smirk on your face. “What else do you have for me.?” 

“Something you know that if I wanted, I could have you begging for.” He answered, his tongue licking his lips as he did before. 

To see my Masterlist just Click Here 

[nikkzwrites]

Yesterday Once More | Dark Fix-It Fic Series | Chapter 15

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah.

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence, Suicide Mentions, Cutting, Violence.

Word Count:  6.5k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

Older Jonas shot up from his nightmare seeing Annalise was sitting in the room texting. His heart slowly calmed seeing her so relaxed. She had bags beneath her eyes though from lack of restful sleep. He kicked his leg to the side and walked over to the girl and kissed her head. His nightmare was a memory of his and Martha’s first time slowly turning to the darkness that grew from her. He pressed his forehead against the girl’s neck and asked, “Did you get any sleep last night?”

The younger Jonas slowly woke up. His senses flooded with the feeling of Annalise next to him. Yet as he opened his eyes, he saw no such girl there. His broken heart dropped. He ran his hand against the pillow still disbelieving that his senses would cruelly trick him. There he found his evidence that she was once there. A strand of her hair danced around his fingertips as they dragged across the pillow. He slowly sat up holding it to the light just to make sure it was indeed hers. The corners of his lips fought in effort to give a small tender smile. Slowly, he resettled down into the warmth of her. His blue eyes twinkled in the lantern light as her familiar mild presence washed over him. His imagination wandered to a place where she was indeed next to him smiling and giggling with him. That all the pain was far far from his mind. He slowly let her last remains drop to the ground as he looked around the bed finally. This was something he pictured her liking. Its four poster frame was made of a dark wood reminding him of the forest she treasured so dearly. The bed itself was so fluffy and eloquent. It cupped the recipient in a warm cozy nest made of the mattress and warm blankets. Something befitting her. Everything about this place just radiated with remembrance of her. He jolted when he saw his older self sitting in the corner of the room staring at him. 

“Isn’t it peculiar,” Adam started, “that one feels the greatest aversion towards the very people who are most similar to oneself?” He paused for a moment and stated, “You were thinking of her, weren’t you?” He remembered that feeling well. The time he was so in love with her yet refused to acknowledge it. The yearning that would grow and grow to slowly eat at him even now wanting nothing more for her to by his side through everything. Knowing deep in his heart that she was constantly on his mind and that any love he had to spare was immediately gobbled up by her greedy image buried deep in his very being.

Jonas stared at him and replied angrily after being taken from his delusion, “I want to know how to get back home.”

Adam stood up and walked in front of the bed. He stared at his younger self for a moment as he tried to instead picture her smiling face waking up to greet him. It wasn’t hard to do, yet it was just so painful to try and imagine so close to the end. Adam sighed and told the boy, “Get dressed.” He turned and left the boy there alone. He looked around the room to find his signature yellow jacket, khakis, and white shoes there for him to get redressed in.

There were only two days left until the apocalypse in 2020. The older Jonas put on his bag and headed down stairs to watch his mother sleep. He stood there for a moment before walking out of his house.

Katharina stared at the picture of her time lost son when she heard her older two children walk down the stairs. “Wait,” she called to them. She stood and walked to them, “I have to show you something.”

“We’ve got an appointment,” Martha told her mother before turning away.

Katharina urged them, “Maybe you’d better sit down.”

Magnus asked, “Can we do this some other time? We really have to go.”

“It’s… I…” Katharina struggled with the words but tried to walk closer to her children, “I have to tell you something. It sounds totally crazy, but I have to know what you think about it.”

Martha asked, “Are you nuts? You’ve hardly spoken to us for months and now you want to know what we think?!” She scolded her mother. The girl motioned around the house and said, “Look around you. We are the kids, but you’ve been acting like one for months!” The girl started to yell more, “Mom, you act as if you’re alone with this shit! But we lost them too!” She started to cry. When Katharina reached to wipe her tears away, Martha hit her hand away, “So you want to talk. That doesn’t mean we do too.” She stormed out of the house with Magnus close behind.

“Why is he so interested in the nuclear power plant,” Aleksander yelled over the phone, “Find someone at Criminal Investigation who knows this Clausen guy. What does he really want here? Call me as soon as you know something.” He hung up the phone.

Regina slowly stumbled through the house, “Bartosz isn’t here.” She informed her husband. He turned speechless causing Regina to continue, “His bed hasn’t been slept in. He wasn’t here all night.”

“Maybe he’s with Martha,” Aleksander tried to reason with her.

Regina shook her head, “They’re not together anymore.”

Aleksander slowly walked his way to his wife to try and calm her, “They must’ve made up… Or maybe he’s with Annalise. Have you called?”

Regina replied, “No one’s answering.”

Aleksander shrugged and told her, “I’m sure it’s nothing. Kids don’t answer their phones all the time.”

“Tell me it’ll all be fine,” Regina plead with her husband.

Aleksander nodded and held his wife, “Everything will be fine.”

In 1987, Ulrich calculated his escape plan to try and find Mikkel as Claudia sat in her office. She stared at the article before knowing what she had to do. She stood up after her secretary walked in and asked her to reschedule the French delegation before she left.

In 1921, Jonas stared at the painting before turning to his elder self. He asked, “Why am I here?”

Adam looked down, then back up at himself. “A person lives three lives,” He started, “The first ends with the loss of naivete. The second with the loss of innocence. The third with the loss of life itself. It is inevitable that we go through those three stages. You will turn into your older self, and your older self into what you see before you.”

Jonas stormed up to him, growling, “I don’t have time for this shit! I have to go back home. To my time! I’ve seen what will happen. I’ve seen their graves.”

“You have lots of time,” Adam told him, “This is the year 1921. Strictly speaking, you still have 99 years.”

Jonas looked down trying to calculate everything and what his next course of action should be.

In 1987, Ulrich’s snack arrived in his room which meant his plan was now needing to start. He hit the man over the head with pottery to knock him out then grabbed his card key to use it to get out of the gates and enter the real world again.

“You haven’t been here in a long time,” Egon told his daughter.

Claudia shook her head then nodded, “I just wanted to quickly check how you are.”

Egon smiled and nodded, “It’s good.” He could tell his daughter was thinking and hiding something from him from her guilty face and the way she was just so stiff. He asked his daughter, “Claudia? You do know that I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished. And your mother would be, too.”

Claudia started to feel tears well at the bottom of her eyes. She stood up to try to hide it from her father, “I’ve got to go.” She walked to the door quickly. She took in a deep breath then turned to her father, “The real reason I came was… I want you to move in with us. You wouldn’t be so alone. And Regina would be happy to see more of you.” Egon smiled at his daughter until she said, “Tomorrow would be best.”

“Tomorrow,” Egon asked his daughter, “You’re acting like I’m almost on my deathbed.”

Claudia sighed. She knew she couldn’t just tell her father why. She debated with herself before just telling her father, “Think it over. Alright?” She then left with her father watching confused.

Hannah sat at the table with Annalise helping arrange photo albums. Both of them looked a little worse for wear when they heard banging at the door. Hannah stood up to go grab the door. “Katharina,” she said as the blonde stormed into the house as if she were looking for something.

“Is he here,” Katharina asked, continuing to look around. When both of them looked at her with blank looks, she exhaustedly asked, “Jonas?”

Hannah shook her head, “He’s vanished. I have no idea where he is.”

When Katharina looked at the girl, she just shrugged and continued going on looking at the albums. Katharina shook her head at the zombie-like girl and turned to Hannah, “You said you saw Mikkel. You were there. How do I get to him?”

Hannah looked down at Annalise to see if she were going to interject then looked up at Katharina with a small shrug, “He has this sort of… device. I guess it’s like a...time machine.”

Katharina snorted. “A time machine,” she asked, shaking her head at them, “And do you know how it works?”

Hannah looked down at Annalise and then walked over to help the girl rearrange some of the pictures, “Even if I did, it wouldn’t help.”

Annalise’s exhausted husky voice grated through the air, “He took it with him.” Hannah pet the girl’s head. She leaned down and kissed her head while wrapping her arms around her from above. Annalise didn’t even look up. She just kept stacking the duplicate pictures into the middle of the table.

Katharina lifted one of them up and said, “He was always there. Right in front of me.” Hannah sighed as she slipped away from fully embracing the girl and just left a hand on her shoulder. The blonde shook her head and sneered, “I just can’t believe you slept with my husband and my son. But you always did want what belonged to me. You’re like a parasite.”

“Shut up,” Annalise whispered. Tears dripping down her depleted face.

Katharina, not hearing the girl, asked Hannah, “Did Ulrich ever actually tell you he loved you? In the end, he would always choose us.”

“Shut up,” Annalise screamed, gripping at her hair, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” She stood up and threw the table as she did. She panted angrily when they all heard a knock on the door.

Hannah rushed to the door and opened it, “Hello.”

“Hello,” Clausen greeted, “You missed your appointment yesterday.” He walked in as Hannah apologized, seeing Katharina standing there with a teary faced Annalise and a flipped table. He continued staring at the situation in front of him as he commented, “Hard to believe you’d forget it when your own child is missing.” He walked more into the home and greeted Katharina, “Mrs. Nielsen.” He looked at the girl still trying to calm herself. Annalise was rubbing her own arms trying to self soothe as she rocked back and forth. Clausen looked back at Katharina and stated, “You were the last person I expected to see here. But since you’re here...” He took out a sketch of the older Jonas and asked, “Do you know who this is?” He looked at Annalise and said, “You can answer too. If you know him.”

Katharina stood between him and Annalise before Annalise got a chance to look up, “No. I don’t. Neither does she.”

Clausen looked at her and asked, “Why can’t she tell me that for herself?” He looked at the younger girl and then back at Katharina, “Mrs. Nielsen, if you don’t mind…” Katharina looked at Annalise and Hannah for a moment. She pulled the girl into a small hug, then left. Clausen then sat in the tableless chair and asked Hannah, “And you?” He showed her the sketch and asked, “Do you know this person?”

Hannah shook her head and told him, “No.”

Back at the Nielsen’s, Stranger Jonas wandered into the house. It was so messy and chaotic, as if looking straight into their state since Mikkel had disappeared from their lives. He walked into Martha’s room. It wasn’t much different from what he remembered. He turned to see a picture of he, Martha, and Bartosz hanging up next to a photo booth set of her and Annalise making funny faces and laughing. Everyone was so happy then. He sat on her bed and tried to debate his life.

“Do you want to know everything that will happen,” Adam asked his younger self, “I know when wars begin and end, what discoveries will be made in the years ahead, what shares I should invest in… But I don’t know what my counterpart will do as long as I haven’t seen his future.”

“But you know my future,” Jonas said confused, “You know what I’ll do.”

Adam nodded and tapped his fingers against his leg, “I am your future.”

Sadness and regret hit the boy. He shook his head and desperately tried to reason, “There must be a way to change it all. So things happen differently.”

Adam stated, “A loophole.” He took in a deep breath and told the boy, “It took me 66 years to find out how to find a way to escape this hell.”

The table screeched as Annalise lifted the table back up and rearranged everything. Clausen looked at Hannah and said, “I’ve been here almost a week and I get the impression no one is telling the truth. Everyone’s trying to hide something. Although I’m not sure if you’re all hiding the same thing or if everyone is trying to keep their own skeletons in the closet.”

Annalise walked into the kitchen and asked, “Coffee?”

Clausen shook his head and asked, “Actually could you…”

Hannah shook her head, “That wouldn’t be best right now.” She looked at the girl then back at him, “She just had an attack. Leaving her alone wouldn’t be the greatest idea.”

Clausen nodded and then looked back at Hannah, “Does he pay you?” When she looked confused, Clausen asked, “Aleksander Tiedermann.”

Hannah’s brow furrowed as she shook her head, “I don’t quite follow you.”

“You worked as his physiotherapist,” He commented, “You no longer do so, right?” Hannah nodded in agreement. Clausen, then, asked, “Yet he still transfers the same amount every month. One would normally expect a service in return, so what is it?”

Hannah looked down and paused. When she heard Annalise start to speak up, Hannah shook her head then turned back to Clausen, “What you don’t get is we stick together here. We support each other. My son disappeared. Aleksander helps me with the money. That’s it.”

Clausen held the picture of Hannah, Ulrich, and Katharina in his hand and said, “Nothing beats a good neighborhood.” He looked up and said, “It’s remarkable that Mrs. Nielsen feels the same way about that. Oh, well, maybe that’s how small towns are. People not only share secrets, but also money and beds.”

Annalise started to growl and Hannah looked at the girl. She grabbed Annalise’s wringing hands and turned back to the man.

The rest of the group of teens stormed the caves with the suitcase. Elisabeth stopped for a moment and looked behind her. Her brow furrowed seeing no one there. She could swear they were being watched. She turned and ran back to catch up to her sister. Noah slowly emerged from behind the tree and watched as his future wife ran into the caves.

Down in the bunker, Charlotte asked the man, “I want to know what you know. Where is Noah.”

“He’s one of them,” Stranger Jonas told the woman, “A traveler. He’s Adam’s puppet. He killed the children. Mads, Erik, Yasin.”

Charlotte fought back tears and admitted, “I think all of this has to do with me. Do you know who my parents are?”

Jonas looked down and shook his head, “No… But I knew your grandfather.”

Charlotte started to cry, “He’s not my real grandfather. I just grew up with him. Did he know all this?”

Jonas nodded, “Yes.”

“Is he one of them,” She asked, “A traveler?”

Jonas shook his head, “He’s just a pawn, like most of us. Claudia. She used him. Just like she used me, Peter, and the others. She had him build this.” He walked away and showed the woman the time machine. 

Slowly, Charlotte came to the realization, “You know what’s going to happen in the future.”

Jonas nodded, “Yes.”

Bartosz shivered. His stomach was so empty. He was cold. A stabbing pain of numbness ran through his veins. He squinted when Magnus pointed the light at him. Magnus knelt down at the boy and asked, “What is this?”

“Want to spend another night here,” yelled Franziska.

Martha pleaded with him, “Bartosz, look at us. What are we doing here? Why won’t you tell us what’s going on?”

He shook his head, His bruised neck aching with every movement, “I would if I could. I’m not allowed to.” He whimpered, “Even if I did tell you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Why not,” She yelled at him.

Franziska stared down at him without any remorse or empathy, “The human body can go three days without liquid.”

Magnus stared down at him then back at his sister. He stood and grabbed the case to follow Franziska and Elisabeth out. Martha stared as Bartosz yelled, “You want to leave me here to die or what? Martha… Wait… Please. Martha, You can’t do this.” He tried to plea with her again, “Martha!” He shook his head and reasoned with himself to calm his panic, “Okay… Okay…” Bartosz yelled at their backs, “It’s a time machine!”

They all turned to him. Magnus walked around his sister. His face contorted in bewilderment, “What? Are you screwing with me?!” Magnus was getting even more annoyed every minute this was going on. Annalise hadn’t been returning any communication since the other day and his family was still broken apart. He was getting no answers to anything he needed.

Bartosz sobbed into the dirt, “I said you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Come on, we’re leaving,” Magnus told the group.

Martha held out her hand and rushed to the tied up boy, “No. Wait.” She looked Bartosz in the eye and demanded, “Then show us how it works.”

Bartosz agreed and when they untied him, he slowly opened the suitcase. He took the box out, closed the top, then placed the machine on top. He carefully opened it up to show them. He turned and said, “I need a phone.”

“There’s no reception here,” Magnus told him, shaking his head.

Bartosz shook his and explained, “That’s irrelevant. It just needs to search for a signal, that’s it.” Martha walked forwards and handed him her phone. Bartosz booted up the machine and backed up as it’s components whirled to life. As the electricity started to open up the portal, Bartosz commented, “You need to come closer.”

Magnus stepped forward first as they all watched the particle start to grow and surround all of them.

“The incident last summer,” Claudia explained, “You told me it was from a reaction in the volume control system.” She looked at Bernd and said, “I checked the data. Everything was normal. So…” She removed her hands from the table and asked, “What really happened?”

Bernd looked down then slid a leather folder to her from across the table, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to let it rest.” Claudia stared at him annoyed but opened the folder to look. Bernd continued, “After the incident, I had a sample taken and analyzed. What you see there are the results.”

Claudia looked up, then back down at the report, “These values are impossible.”

“That’s what I thought at first too,” He replied, “So I had the tests repeated. The results were identical.”

Claudia looked up and asked him, “Is this what I think it is?”

“Possibly,” Bernd slyly commented, “In many respects it corresponds to Englert, Brout, and Higgs’ calculations in 1964. But not entirely.”

“The God Particle,” Claudia said looking back up at him.

Bernd knocked on the table with great satisfaction, “The particle that gives all things its mass.”

Claudia shook her head happily, “This is a sensation.” She closed up the file and looked up at him, “If this data is correct, we have to go public with it.”

Bernd sighed, “I already told you. Some sleeping dogs should be left to lie.” As Claudia’s face dropped, he continued to explain himself, “If we go public with it people will want to know how we found it. The nuclear power plant is my legacy. Do what you like with the data, but leave my name and the power plant out of it. At least as long as I’m alive.”

Ulrich jogged to the Kahnwald house. He panted. There out at their garden table sat Mikkel. Ulrich sobbed seeing his long lost son. Happiness rushed through him.

Mikkel looked up at the older man and asked, “Can I help you? Are you not well?” He stood up and looked at the man.

Ines walked through the halls of the hospital. She went into the medicine cabinet and stole some more sleeping pills for Mikkel. She tried to walk away to hide her crime when another nurse stopped her and alerted her to the news that a psychiatric patient had escaped and that he had the reputation of killing 2 children in the 1950s and nearly killed a third. Ines’s face changed to horror. Mikkel was home alone.

Ulrich sat waiting for Mikkel. He nervously picked at the wood at the table. It wasn’t long before Mikkel came back with the orange juice. “Thank you,” Ulrich said to his son after being handed the juice.

Mikkel stared at the man. There was something really familiar about him, but he couldn’t quite place it. His mind was a bit foggy. His memories of his past life slowly fading in and out of his mind. He shook his head and admitted, “You seem familiar somehow.”

Ulrich sighed and admitted, “I’ve waited 33 years for this moment.” He looked at Mikkel who had started to look terrified. Ulrich thought for a moment and turned over his empty glass, “‘The question is not how, but when,’” He turned to Mikkel and said, “You said that. Remember?”

Mikkel felt a bittersweet emotion fill within him. He nodded as tears started to fill within him. He grabbed onto his father and held him close. It was just as he remembered. They started to cry together as Mikkel whispered, “Dad…”

“In the future,” Jonas explained, “There’s a prophecy about a new world. That Sic Mundus will lead people into paradise.” He looked at Adam and asked, “Is this that? A religion?”

Adam shrugged with one shoulder and explained, “We are the exact opposite of that. We’ve declared a war on time. God. We declared a war on God. We’re creating a new world, without time, without God.”

Jonas’s brow furrowed and asked, “What does that mean?”

“It means that what people have worshiped for millennia,” Adam explained, “The God that holds everything together, that God is nothing more than time itself. Not a thinking, acting entity. A physical law with which one can negotiate as little as one can with one’s own fate. God is time. And time is not merciful.” He thought of his own life as he continued, “we are born, and our life is already trickling away like the sand in the hourglass. Death is forever inevitably before us. Our fate is nothing but a concentration of cause and effect. In light and in shadow.”

Charlotte walked into her grandfather’s shop and continued her search. She found the blueprint of the machine and stared at it. It wasn’t long before the man whom she was searching for joined into the store with her.

“Charlotte,” Noah greeted her after the bell alerted her to his presence. He slowly approached the woman.

She backed away as he walked forward and asked, “What do you want?”

Noah took off his hat and introduced himself, “I’m Noah.”

“I know who you are,” She explained holding her ground, “You killed the children.”

Sadly, Noah shook his head, “I can no longer change what you think of me.” Tears filled his eyes, “But… Maybe one day you’ll understand that I only did this so that it will one day no longer happen.” He took out the notebook as he stared at the terrified woman, “So you’re not taken from me again and neither is your mother.” At her confusion, Noah opened his notebook and showed the woman a polaroid of he holding a small baby, “When you were born, they didn’t give you much of a chance. You were premature. You were tiny.” He shook his head and further explained, “But you wanted to live. You were so strong. Your tiny hand grasped my finger and wouldn’t let go.”

“Stop,” begged the sobbing woman. She shook her head in complete disbelief, “That’s impossible.”

Noah placed the picture next to her and stated, “Your mother took that picture. I promised her I’d bring you back.” He studied her face and told her, “I’ve looked for you all these years.” He looked down and said, “But you were here the entire time.” He laughed slowly breaking down, “Adam knew it was you. He knew it the entire time. He’s preparing for what comes afterwards.” He smiled, “I read the last pages. The nuclear power plant, Jonas, David. It’ll all happen again. The apocalypse. In two days. But I now know what I must do.” He backed away from his frightened daughter, “I have to end Adam. So everyone lives.” He put back on his hat as he started to leave, “Not just those in the bunker.”

Charlotte finally gained the courage again. She gripped onto it firmly and asked, “Who is my mother?”

Noah stopped and slowly turned to the sobbing woman, “She loved you very much. She still does.” He turned away and walked out leaving his daughter crying there.

The teens walked out of the caves into 1987. They turned to Bartosz and Franziska asked, “What happened here?” Everyone looked around seeing the forest different from what they remembered.

“The armchair is gone,” Martha commented.

Magnus turned and asked the boy, “What’s going on?”

“I didn’t believe it at first either,” Bartosz started, “But then he told me things that would happen. And they did, just as he said. That… You and Jonas kissed. He told me that before you did it. That Annalise would get drunk, try to go home, and nearly fall off the bridge. That my mother would get cancer. That Jonas and Annalise would vanish.”

Magnus sneered and approached the boy angrily, “Who told you that?” He wanted to destroy who ever told the boy these things without trying to fix them. His rage boiled.

Bartosz leaned away from the displeasured boy and admitted, “Noah.”

“Noah,” Franziska asked, “A priest with big blue eyes?”

Bartosz looked towards her and asked, “You know him?”

Franziska shook her head then motioned to her sister, “I don’t. But Elisabeth does.” Bartosz looked down at the small blonde girl finally feeling kinship with someone again.

“Okay,” Magnus growled, “What’s going on?”

“Noah said it was about a war,” Bartosz’s brow creased as he tried to remember what the man had said. None of it made sense but the boy continued to tell his story, “And about ruling over time. That my grandmother is involved in it… That Jonas will return and…”

Martha asked, “Jonas? Jonas is coming back?”

“Yeah,” He admitted before continuing, “They’re both part of the war. Annalise and him.”

Magnus started to laugh. He shook his head. There was no way any of what Bartosz was saying was true. He turned away from everyone and told them, “I’m going home.” He started to walk away followed by Franziska and Elisabeth.

Bartosz looked at Martha. He begged her, “You have to believe me.”

Martha shook her head and turned away. She walked to try and catch up with the rest of the group leaving him alone, there in the woods.

Ines rushed though the house trying to find her adopted son. She called his new name, “Michael! Michael!” When she saw the two cups, the woman ended up calling Egon, “I just got home and Michael isn’t here and… The man broke out of the psychiatric ward... ”

“Which man from the ward,” He asked.

Ines shook her head, “It was on the radio today. Do you remember? The children at the construction sight in 1953? That man escaped.”

Egon hurriedly told her, “I’ll call the police station at once. I might know where they’re headed. I’ll come pick you up.” He hung up.

Mikkel and Ulrich ran through the forest trying to get to the caves before anyone could stop them. The sirens blared through the air. Ines led the officers but soon got out ran.

“Stop,” one of the officers yelled at him shooting into the air.

The two stopped. Ulrich placed himself in between the officers and Mikkel. “Michael,” Ines called the boy.

“Let the boy go,” another officer commanded.

Mikkel held onto his father tightly. “No,” Ulrich yelled back. Ines tried to run to them, only to get pulled back by Egon.

“Get on the ground,” A different officer yelled at the man.

“Michael,” Ines yelled.

Ulrich hid Mikkel behind him and yelled, “You don’t get it!”

Another voice commanded, “Get down!”

Ulrich pleaded with them, “He’s my son!”

“I said get down now!”

Ulrich slowly lowered himself to the ground. The officers surrounded him and separated the boy from him. “Mikkel,” Ulrich sobbed.

Ines ran to the boy, “Michael!” She held him close as the boy watched the officers arresting his father, “Michael.”

“Mikkel,” Ulrich fought the officers to tell the boy. He promised the boy, “I’ll be back. I’ll take you home.”

Mikkel’s chest hurt as he watched his father getting pulled away from him. His eyes never left Ulrich’s side. A part of him knew now that he was going to have to accept this new life. His old life was always going to be ripped away from him no matter how much it came back to him. It was simply a haunting. 

Ulrich sneered at Egon as they passed, “It’s all your fault! It always has been! I swear, next time… I’ll kill you.”

Adam sighed, “Mikkel… Michael. Our father is just a small part of a knot. That is infinitely larger and more convoluted. The entire universe is nothing but a gigantic knot from which there is no escape.”

“If that’s true,” Jonas concluded, “if everything is perpetually in that knot, if nothing can be changed, then you’ve already had this conversation?”

Adam nodded, “And posed that very question. My whole life, I was convinced that this moment could never be repeated in this way. I could never speak the words that my older self said to me back then. Because I could not understand how I could ever in my life want what he wanted… Now, 66 years later, I understand it. Some moments...” He fiddled with his thumbs thinking of what was going to happen in just a short time once he sent his younger self back, “change us forever.” He paused then thinking of what was going to happen once again in two days, “Some pain you never forget.” He leaned forward uncrossing his legs, “But there is a way that leads us out of all this cruel fertility.”

“If that’s true,” Jonas leaned in closer, more interested once more, “if there is a way, why does it all happen as it always has, why have you changed nothing?”

Adam smirked and walked to his wall of notes. He explained to his younger self, “Every development builds on the previous one. First you have the wheel, then the car. I can’t be me without previously having been you.” He raised his hands and explained, “You saw the passage in the bunker. The chair, the device. The thing in the future. But that’s not the end of the chain.”

Claudia thanked the scientist for meeting her and for his time. She slowly took out the God particle and asked him to analyze it without telling anyone. She vaguely explained it to the man as they watched the dark liquid slosh in the small glass canister.

The teens walked over the hill and to the bus stop. There they found evidence of it being 1987. They watched as the old styled cares drove past. Ulrich turned to see the group there. He begged the officers to pull over because he saw his children. This was all for not. The officers kept driving the poor man away from his family to go to the hospital.

Bartosz looked at the group and asked, “Do you believe me now?” He turned as the rest of the group just tried to process what was going on.

Hannah sat at the table. Annalise was slowly fading in and out of sleep. When the door slammed open and shut, the mother stood and rushed to the older version of her son, “You’re back. Where have you been?”

Jonas took a step back. He looked at the two, then to the pictures, and then looked back at his mother, “Did this ever mean anything to you?” Hannah looked towards the side as Jonas asked, “Did you ever actually love Dad?” He shook his head and said, “I know you had an affair with Ulrich.” Annalise stood up and got in between them. She weakly tried to push him away from his mother, but this didn’t stop him from asking, “If you could choose between Dad and Ulrich now…” 

Annalise slapped him. The girl screamed at him, “Oh and you’re one to talk!” Tears ran down her face, “That’s such fucking bullshit Jonas.” She started to hit his chest.

Jonas effortlessly took both of her wrists in one hand and ignored her. He stared at his mother and said, “With all this shit, I thought you were the only person I could trust completely.” He looked down at Annalise and said, “This isn’t the time.”

Her fury unleashed itself, “Yeah?! And when is it the time?! HUH?!” She tried to twist herself out of his grip, “Yeah! I fucking thought so! This is so fucking stupid! I hate this! I hate you! Let me go!”

He let her wrist go, but scooped her up into his arms as she screamed. He knew she was just exhausted and tired. Her mind was weighing thousands of options and she felt like the weight of the universe sat squarely on her decision. Jonas couldn’t be angry with her. She was so young, scared, traumatised, and having to face the hardest decision of her life. If anything, it hurt more seeing her descent. He didn’t see this side of it last time and he never wanted to see it again. Knowing how she could have continued being to see her now thrashing and raging as if a caged animal. He pulled her into him despite her animosity and tried to go up the stairs to their room.

“I ruined everything,” Hannah said. With that everything stopped. Jonas stopped walking up the stairs, Annalise stopped screaming, everything. Hannah looked at the pictures of her family and whispered, “I know.”

Jonas shrugged and stared at Annalise then back at his mother, “Maybe you always have.” Annalise went back to spewing obscenities and hatred at the man as he tried to carry them up the stairs.

“Jonas,” Hannah tried to stop him again. 

Jonas slowly came to terms with what needed to be said to both himself and his mother, “You need no one. Just yourself.” He climbed up the stairs with Annalise screeching.

The teens walked their way back to 2020 as Ines carried Mikkel back home. Egon sighed and guiltily walked away. Ulrich shook trying to be released screaming for his family that was ripped from him until the sedative hit. Charlotte stared at the polaroid of baby her and Noah. Ines made her son hot chocolate and put the sleeping pill’s contents inside. Martha walked into her room and found some of Jonas’s hair there. She looked up knowing he must be close. Adam walked his younger self to the portal room.

Adam explained, “It’s not the same as what lies in the future.” It is, in a manner of speaking, it’s twin. It is part of the infinite. It pervades everything. People have given it a myriad of names over the centuries: ether, dark matter, the Higgs field.”

Jonas looked over to him and asked, “How did it come to be?”

“The one in the future,” Adam told the boy, “via the disaster in two days you so dearly want to prevent. This one… We produced ourselves. It is the end of a technological evolution. And… it will be the end of the knot. This right here will take you to the exact day that you want to travel to. It breaks the 33 year cycle.” 

Jonas stared at him, “That’s why I’m here. That’s what you want from me. There is a way to stop it all if I stop the beginning.”

Adam nodded, “That there is. The only question is when is the beginning?” He looked up at the portal, “And what sacrifice we must make?”

Jonas’s lips trembled as he told the man, “The 20th of June… 2019. The day before it all happened. Before Dad took his own life. Before it all fell apart.”

Adam’s heart raced, “If you can prevent him from taking his own life, then everything that follows will not occur.” He turned and started at the portal once more. He sighed and said, “Mikkel will not travel back. You… I… We won’t be born… But everyone will live.” He paused and leaned forward knowing what he needed to say, “Martha will live.” Adam set up the machine to send him back. Tears fell from his face as he called, “If you succeed, we will reorder the world.”

Jonas looked at the dark orb and let himself be surrounded as Adam watched on.

[alj4890]

Kiss Prompts

(Maxwell Beaumont x Nadia Park) with the prompt: A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them as requested by Anonymous. (Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) with the prompt: Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force also requested by Anonymous. And the prompt: “I shouldn’t be here.” As requested by @krsnlove​ ​

A/N Sorry for the delay. I lost this fic TWICE and had to rewrite it in as many times. But here it is! The last part and epilogue to this prompt request that grew into four parts. Thank you all for enjoying these couples along with me. I hope the ending is what you would want.

@lxaah11​   @alleksa16​   @penguininapinktuxedo​   @blackcoffee85   @stopforamoment     @hopelessromantic1352     @krsnlove     @annekebbphotography  . @sunflowergirl05   @desireepow-1986  @greywitchyshots   @moodyvalentinestories  @emceesynonymroll   @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms   @ab1901     @lolablackwrites     @flyawayboo   @i-bloody-love-drake-walker   @trappedinfandoms   @kate-mckenzie

Masterlist

Part 4

Amanda's Suite, The Beverly Wilshire, the next day...

Thomas stirred when he heard a faint knocking.

His senses continued to slowly awaken, letting him acquaint himself with his surroundings.

When he reached blindly for what would have been his nightstand in his bedroom, his eyes opened on encountering someone's body.

His eyes opened to see his date from the night before, snuggled close.

Memories of the previous night came to the forefront of his mind, bringing a smile to his face.

After dinner, the two had gone for a long drive around Los Angeles. Since neither was quite ready to say goodnight, they had returned to Amanda's suite to watch a movie.

More conversation followed, late night room service, and of course seeing if the sparks were still there when they kissed. They were happy to discover that the sparks had increased beyond what they expected.

Another movie was started and by three in the morning, Amanda had begun to doze off. When she noticed Thomas doing the same, she insisted he stay the night.

The two then climbed into bed, still dressed up from dinner and fell asleep.

Looking at her now in the light filtering in through the crack in the drapes, he couldn't recall when he had wanted to spend as much time as he possibly could with someone as he did with her.

He gently placed a kiss on the back of Amanda's neck, smiling when she turned toward him.

"Someone's at the door." He said softly.

"I'm too comfortable to move." She mumbled.

His smile grew when she leaned forward to kiss him.

"Good morning." She whispered against his lips.

"Good morning." He kissed her again.

Her eyes dropped on his dress shirt and slacks. "I can't believe you slept in that."

He tugged at her dress. "You weren't exactly dressed comfortably for sleeping either."

Her teasing grin appeared. "It seemed rude to change clothes when my company couldn’t do the same."

Before he could respond, a louder knock was heard.

Both sat up and looked toward the door.

"I must have forgotten to hang the Do Not Disturb sign." Amanda scooted out of bed.

Thomas followed her out, running his fingers through his mussed hair.

Thinking it was housekeeping, she opened the door without checking.

Maxwell came inside, smiling at her.

"So? How was it?" His eyes widened at her still in the dress he had picked out for her. "Did you just get home?"

"No, I--"

“You mean you and Ryan, um,” Maxwell shook his head, not really wanting to know about how her night ended. “Are you alone?” He whispered.

He froze when he saw Thomas in his rumpled clothes.

"Good morning." The director greeted.

Amanda cleared her throat. "Maxwell, you remember Thomas."

Her friend narrowed his eyes. "I do." His blue eyes then cut to Amanda. "What happened with Ryan?"

"At dinner we ran into Thomas and Nadia." Amanda began.

Maxwell glared at Thomas. Not only had he been with the one he wanted, he had somehow intruded on his best friend's chance at happiness.

"...Ryan realized we all felt something for people we were not with and decided to rearrange our dates." Amanda continued.

"He did what?" Maxwell paid attention to that last part.

"Ryan figured out that I wanted to date your friend." Thomas explained. "The only reason I went to dinner with Nadia was because it was my sister who had matched us. Nadia and I discussed this at the very beginning of our date." He slipped his arm around Amanda’s waist. "She and I both confessed to having fallen for other people."

Maxwell's furrowed brow smoothed in understanding. His dimpled grin began to form. "So, you and Nadia are…?"

"Are nothing." Thomas explained. "She fell for, well, you."

Maxwell fought his elation and closely scrutinized Amanda and Thomas. He wanted to make certain no mistakes had been made for his best friend.

The first thing to stand out was that Ryan had never looked at her the way the director did. He noticed the way Thomas had his arm around her waist, keeping her nestled next to him. Amanda didn’t seem bothered at all, in fact, she seemed to be drawn to Thomas just as much as he was to her.

He knew when to admit defeat. Amanda looked far too happy for him to insist she give the actor another chance. Perhaps Ryan wasn’t the right one after all.

"Then I'm glad it all worked out despite mine and your sister's interference." Maxwell decided that he, himself, didn’t deserve all the blame for the wrong matchmaking. "I have a brunch I have to get to." He smiled at them. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"We will." Amanda winked at him once they were at the door. "Talk to you later?"

"You know it." He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and left the suite.

*****************

The Blvd...

Rachel peeked over her menu at Steve.

Last night had possibly been the best first date she had ever had. Their dinner followed by a night of dancing had been nothing but one romantic moment after another.

And then for Steve to ask her before they parted for the evening to brunch this morning and another date tonight was just the icing on the cake.

She couldn't recall any of her past relationships where the guy was this honest in wanting to be with her.

No games. No waiting around in agony wondering if he’ll call or text. Just a direct and simple, “I want to be with you.”

Rachel felt like she was in uncharted waters. Her doubt that he was being sincere in this sudden attraction threatened to ruin what she currently had. Only more time together would prove whether or not he really wanted to be with her like she did him.

Steve winked at her when he looked up from his menu and noticed her staring at him.

She quickly averted her eyes while her face turned red.

He chuckled at her embarrassment and reached for her hand. "See anything you want?"

Her face turned a darker shade of red before realizing he meant food.

"I'm trying to decide." She mumbled, fighting the shiver down her spine when he brushed a kiss to her knuckles.

She turned her attention toward the other patrons of the restaurant.

Steve gently tugged her hand when he noticed her tensing. "What's wrong?"

"I think I see Nadia," Rachel leaned over the table, eyes narrowing as she tried to see just who her friend was with.

"Oh?" He followed her gaze. "Should we invite--"

"How dare he!" Rachel scrambled out of the booth and marched over to her friend's table.

***************

Nadia wondered if her heart would ever beat properly again. The constant speeding up followed by a number of skips couldn’t be healthy.

When she approached the booth, Maxwell had swept her in his arms and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

Neither seemed to recall they were in a very public place having their first kiss nor that they had people watching them. Then again, if asked, they probably would not have cared.

All their attention was on each other.

As the kiss continued, a sound drew their attention.

"Ahem!"

Nadia vaguely recognized that throat clearing. When she heard it a second time, she jerked away from Maxwell.

"Rach!" She hugged her friend who was shooting glares from her dark eyes at the man that had kissed her with such blatant abandon. "What are you doing here?"

"We came for brunch." Steve explained, coming up behind Rachel.

He hoped he could keep this from turning ugly.

"Oh my gosh!" Nadia clasped her hands together over her heart. She was thrilled at seeing the man who had been so romantic the day before still with Rachel. "From the way you two look, the date must have gone well."

"It did." Steve slipped his arms around Rachel's waist, momentarily diverting her attention.

"Ooohhhh!" Nadia beamed at him. "I take it my recommendations helped?"

"Immensely." Steve held his hand out to Maxwell, greeting him.

Rachel eased out of Steve's embrace. "What happened with Thomas?" Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. "You recall My brother, right?"

Nadia glanced at Maxwell. "Last night, Thomas and I bumped into Ryan and Amanda." She nervously twirled a lock of her hair. "And, well, we um, we switched dates."

"Switched dates?!" Rachel gasped. "Whose idea--"

"Rach, Thomas and I had a talk before Ryan and his date came in." Nadia explained. Her eyes filled with tears over her friend's obvious anger. "We both have fallen for someone else." She blinked, trying to keep the tears from falling. "Thomas has feelings for Maxwell's friend, Amanda, and I have fallen for Maxwell."

Rachel's angry expression eased into one of concern. "Why didn't you tell me you fell for Maxwell?"

"I tried to. I didn't want to upset you since Thomas is your brother." Nadia sniffed while wiping her eyes. "Plus, I know you love me and only want the best for me. I couldn't ignore your advice, especially after my years of disasters."

Rachel pulled her into a tight hug. "I wanted you and Thomas to find happiness." She leaned back to look at the couple. "If Maxwell," she sent a warning glare his way, "is someone who treats you the way you should be treated, then I'm happy for you."

"Rach!" Nadia hugged her again. "Promise you're not mad?"

"I'm not." She responded a bit hesitantly. "It will take me a few moments to get used to the idea of these new matches." Her smile was a bit rueful. "I can't help but admit it: I selfishly wanted you to end up as my sister-in-law."

"You'll feel differently when you meet Amanda." Maxwell interjected in the hopes of smoothing things over. "She's always been crazy about your brother."

Rachel's narrowed eyes landed on him once more, causing Maxwell to squirm somewhat.

"If I ever see you remotely taking advantage of Nadia's sweetness," she warned, "You better hope I never find you."

Maxwell swallowed a bit nervously. "Okay."

Steve snorted softly with his laughter. "We'll leave you two alone--"

"Let's have a double date!" Nadia interrupted. "We haven't been on one in ages."

Before Stephen or Maxwell could insist that they wished to be alone with their dates, the two ladies were seated and already in deep discussion over last night's dates, possibly sharing entrees, and what other evenings they could double date.

Steve clapped Maxwell on the shoulder. "Looks like you and I will be spending a lot of time together."

For some reason, that brought an even bigger grin to Maxwell's lips. He couldn't recall a time when he had been in a relationship long enough to enjoy something so simple and sweet like a double date.

"Yeah, it does." He sat down next to Nadia and began to talk to Steve about things they could do on their double dates.

****************

Thomas Hunt's home, late afternoon...

"I don't have a lot of time." Thomas explained to Rachel. "I'm picking Amanda up at six thirty."

"When do I get to meet her?" Rachel asked.

"We'll plan something." He said as he searched his closet for something to wear.

"When?" She persisted, following him into his room.

He grit his teeth. "When do you want to?"

"Tonight."

"Not tonight."

"Tomorrow then."

Thomas stepped out and folded his arms. "Did you act this way with Nadia or am I the lucky one?"

"I had a meal with Maxwell and will be going out on numerous double dates to get to know him better." She told him. "You aren't as easily accessible."

"Rachel." Thomas ground out. "One would think that my sister would respect my privacy as I do hers with Steve."

His sister blushed at her date’s name. "But you already know Steve and like him. Shouldn't I be allowed the same with Amanda?"

"Fine." He went to start his shower, locking the door behind him. "You can meet her tomorrow."

Rachel saluted his closed door in triumph. "I have to go. Steve is picking me up." She yelled through his door. "I'll call tomorrow for a lunch date."

*****************

"You're telling me I did it?" Addison pumped her fists in the air. “I stopped those wrong matches form happening?!”

"Looks that way." Steve started laughing when Addison did a victory dance around his office.

"I still can't believe the dates ended before they even began." Holly leaned back in her chair while in deep thought. "Ryan didn't end up with anyone."

Addison slowed her movements. "That's right! Poor Ryan." She tapped her chin, pretending to think about his predicament. "We should probably find a way to make it up to him."

Holly looked up at her. "You think so?"

"Definitely." Steve added. "Nothing bruises an ego like not only losing out on one woman, but then finding that no one had fallen for him.”

"Maybe we should take him out tonight." Addison suggested. "Get his mind off of last night's failure."

"Okay." Holly looked up at Steve. "You want to come?"

"Nope." He grinned at the two. "I have another date with Rachel." He stood and slung his blazer over his shoulder. "In fact, I can predict that most of my free time will include her."

As he strode out the door, his two friends begged him for more details.

He stuck his head back into the room and winked at them. "I'll talk to you later."

***************

A little over a week later, Tommy Phelps's party...

"Phelp's must have invited everyone he has ever met!" Holly yelled out over the loud music.

"He’s been excited about The Royal Romance." Ryan yelled back. He laced his fingers with hers so he wouldn't lose her. "Let's see what's going on outside."

She nodded and held tight to him as they wound their way through the crowd.

***************

Second floor balcony of Tommy’s house…

"I can't believe you righted all those relationships." Matt teased. "I thought you would be like me. I was only thinking about how much I missed you while we were apart."

Addison looped her arms around his neck. "I did miss you." She stood up on tiptoe to kiss him. "Why do you think I got so involved with everyone's love life?"

He chuckled, holding her close. "I think it’s because you couldn't resist having a hand in making sure they met the perfect person."

"That too." She admitted with a proud smile.

The pair looked out over Tommy's backyard at the new couples.

“There’s my latest.” She pointed at Ryan and Holly greeting the Cordonian group. “I finally got them to look at each other like they should.”

Matt quietly observed his two friends as they wrapped an arm around each other.

“And look at Steve!” Addison pointed toward the left. “Who would have thought he could be so smooth and romantic?”

Matt snorted softly while watching their other friend brushing Rachel’s windblown hair out of her eyes. His finger tilted her chin up so he could press a tender kiss to her lips.

Addison sighed. “He is such an attentive boyfriend.”

Matt quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Well, he is.” She mumbled.

“So where’s Rachel’s friend?” Matt asked, deciding he did not want to discuss how wonderful other guys were tonight.

“Hmm.” Addison scanned the backyard. “Oh! There they are! Dancing.” She pointed them out. “Nadia is the one in white.”

“They seem to be having a good time.” Matt grinned at the pair’s smiles.

“Yes, they really are cute together.” Addison slipped her hand with Matt’s. “Almost as cute as we are.”

Matt tugged her close for a kiss. “Alright, I know the real reason you brought me out here was to see your work with Thomas.”

“He has always eluded my attempts at matchmaking.” Addison grumbled. “Who knew that what I needed was for him to be distracted with someone else matchmaking him so that I could swoop in with my own?” She grinned when her eyes found him talking to Amanda. “He never knew that it was me pulling the strings.”

Matt eyed the evil gleam in her eyes warily. “You will use these powers for good, right?”

She looked up at him. “Of course. Just look down there.” She waved toward the evidence of her deeds. “Look how happy everyone is.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “I guess I should have known you only cause happiness wherever you go.” He lowered his eyes to the engagement ring twinkling in the torch lights. “That’s all you’ve brought me.”

“I try.” She teased, laughing when he tickled her for ruining his romantic moment. “Just wait, our wedding won’t be the only one happening this year.”

*************

Epilogue…

Addison’s prediction was correct. Her wedding wasn’t the only one to happen.

Maxwell spent a lot of time the next few months with Nadia in New York. Using the excuse that he needed to be in the United States for his book tour and movie, he found an apartment not too far from his favorite artist.

The night of The Royal Romance’s premiere, he proposed to Naida. Though they had only been dating for about five months, he knew that he would never find anyone like her. She said yes, her heart so filled with love and hope for their future. Their wedding was held in New York with her family and all he loved from Cordonia in attendance. They even invited those they had grown close to in Hollywood.

The star-studded affair drew a lot of attention from the press. Nadia and Maxwell gave numerous interviews about how happy they were together. The next few years of marriage saw the pair grow from a family of two to a family of four. Their smiles and laughter continued as they raised their son and daughter.

Steve continued to do all he could to sweep Rachel off her feet. Together they traveled to romantic cities around the world, appreciating the architecture and each other. When he was offered to teach in Rome, he expressed his wish for her to join him there.

He asked with a four-carat diamond solitaire. Steve explained that he couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing her, having her by his side as he moved into this new position.

She said yes. After a small, private ceremony and with her brother giving her away; the two were married after dating for nearly a year.

They settled into a villa overlooking the Colosseum and enjoyed their first three years of marriage living in Rome. They then returned to California when Rachel was offered her own dream job. They supported each other in all they did as each transitioned in their careers.

They were also a devoted aunt and uncle to Thomas’ s children. With all their interests involving the freedom to travel and move wherever their careers took them, they decided to not have any children of their own. They are completely content with having each other and their extended family.

Holly and Ryan surprised everyone with an elopement in Las Vegas a little over a month after Addison pushed them together. The reason for the sudden nuptials appeared nine months after their first date. What didn’t surprise anyone, was that Ryan and Holly seemed meant to belong together. Ryan needed Holly’s snark and calmness to keep him grounded while she needed his charm and sense of humor to draw her out of her cynicism. Together, they enjoy life with their two daughters.

Thomas and Amanda tried the long-distance dating for the first year. It was difficult at first with having to spend long periods of time apart with nothing but video chats, especially since the two loved to spend as much time as they could together. Thomas decided to shoot his two planned films in Cordonia that year, just to be near her.

Since he was spending so much time in her country, he knew he would need to have a small studio there. What better place to build one than near her duchy? While it was under construction, he proposed to the duchess he had lost his heart to.

The two were married a month after his proposal in St Orella’s chapel with only those they were closest to present. They allowed Ana De Luca to be the one photographer for their wedding.

Amanda wore a wedding gown that Addison had designed for her the moment she knew the duchess was right for Thomas. A year and a half later she would be given maternity dresses that the fashion designer had made just for her.

Addison proudly showed the video she had of when Thomas and Amanda first met at both the wedding reception and to the Hunt offspring that followed. She would whisper to Matt that none of this would have happened without her interference.

Addison and Matt had a wedding that was photographed for every magazine out there. Their ceremony was held at Shutters on the Beach with their nearest and dearest on hand.  A noticeably pregnant Holly was matron of honor while Ryan beamed as best man.

The couple were wed six months after everyone was matched. While walking down the aisle, Addison noticed those she had a hand in matching and felt a great deal of pride at the amount of love present for her wedding. The only thing that could take her mind from her greatest triumph was having the love of her life say his vows.

And with that, they all lived happily ever after…

[kaistarus]

Clickbait(YouTubeAU)--Chapter 6

Pairings: Kiribaku; Tododeku

Words: 3,505

Notes: I missed my vlog squad and was craving some fluff. The creative juices were flowing, so here’s the next chapter waaayyyy sooner than usual :D

Read the full story here

“Maybe Todoroki’s secretly in love with Bakugou,” Kaminari stuck his tongue out in concentration as he lined up his shot. He wiggled his butt and swung his neon yellow putter against the matching golf ball that proceeded to smack against a plastic rock and bounce into a small pond off coarse.

“That makes no sense,” Kirishima said frustrated. He watched Kaminari fish out his golf ball while Sero went up for his turn. “You should’ve seen him and Midoriya. I didn’t know it was possible for someone to look lovestruck while watching a person choke on tacos, but somehow Todoroki managed it.”

“Well, I didn’t think it was possible for someone to get turned on by verbal abuse, but you should’ve seen the doe-eyes you gave Bakugou during Mario Kart.” Sero angled his shot perfectly. His light gray ball bounced against a log, rolled down the small incline directly into the hole for his seventh hole-in-one. Kaminari began grumbling to himself as he continued searching for his ball.

“I did not.” Kirishima readied his shot next but missed the hole by a large amount.

“It was pretty gross, dude,” Kaminari said, shaking his hand dry of the murky water that likely hadn’t been cleaned since the mini-golf coarse opened.

“Didn’t you say they were childhood friends?” Mina sat on a short fence that lined the coarse with her neon pink putter across her lap. “Maybe Todoroki’s just being protective.”

“I’m trustworthy, though. I would treat Bakugou so good.”

“Well, we all know that, but to Todoroki you’re practically a stranger.” Mina hoped off the fence as Kaminari took his seventh hit to finally sink the ball. “Give it time, sweetie. Don’t overthink things.”

Kirishima wished it was that easy. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how awkward it had been with Todoroki glaring at him the entire meal yesterday. He managed to maintain a simple conversation with Bakugou and Midoriya but felt too uncomfortable with Bakugou obviously kicking Todoroki under the table every few minutes. He had been eager to get home.

Kirishima’s phone vibrated in the back pocket of his jeans and he pulled it out while they walked to the tenth hole.

Bakugou: Are you kicking their asses?

Kirishima chuckled. Sero was lining up for his next shot, eyebrows furrowed and intensely focused on the target—the tongue-like ramp sticking out of an oversized, spooky clown head that always made Kirishima cringe. The ramp had three pathways, but the group came here so often they knew the far right was how to get the hole-in-one. He moved his putter back, and with perfect control, his swing sent the ball bouncing off the bricked lining and up the right side of the ramp. Another hole-in-one.

Kirishima: Sero is a mini-golf god. I don’t stand a chance

Bakugou: I could take him.

Kirishima had to snort. That would be Bakugou’s first concern.

Kirishima: I don’t doubt you could

Kaminari took the front again and after his usual routine—tongue out and butt wiggled—he tapped the ball. It smacked the corner of the ramp and flew backward over the red-bricked outlining and into the previous hole’s pond.

“What the hell!”

Bakugou: You better at least beat Sparky. Or all my respect is gone

Kirishima watched Kaminari stumble over to the pond and trip over a fake log, falling into the shallow pond with his ball. He stifled a laugh at his friend’s expense.

Kirishima: He’s spent most the game in the water, so that’s easy

Bakugou: Pinky?

Mina dropped the ball down at the starting line and positioned it with her foot. She had no warm-up ritual like the others and just swung. Just like Sero’s, it bounced off the bricks and into the clown’s mouth.

Kirishima: It’s close, but I won’t let you down!

Bakugou: Fucking better not… I believe in you or whatever the fuck

Kirishima smiled dopily as he moved to the front of the tenth hole.

Kirishima: Well, now I can’t lose :D

Bakugou: Oh my god, fuck off

He pocketed his phone and dropped his ball like Mina had, rolling it into place with to tip of his croc. When he glanced toward the clown’s rusted eyes that pierced through his soul he grimaced. Then he realized his friends were staring at him, as well.

“What?”

“Just curious who you’ve been texting all day,” Mina said, twirling a strand of her short pink hair innocently.

“Especially considering all of your friends are right here,” Sero added.

Kirishima resented that statement. Mostly because he was right and Kirishima couldn’t deny it.

“No one.”

“So, Bakugou?” Kaminari asked, shaking himself off. His grey sweatpants and light-yellow sweatshirt now a shade darker. “Are you going to ask him out or what?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like he gave me any hints or signals.” Kirishima said, leaning back on his red putter. “I don’t want to fuck this up completely.”

“I thought he confessed to you,” Kaminari said as he stood at the bottom of the ramp continuously hitting the ball upwards. It kept rolling back down, and after about nine attempts he just tossed the ball through with a frustrated grunt.

“He said, ‘that wouldn’t completely suck’. That doesn’t sound like, ‘ask me out now, please’ to me.”

“I don’t know. I spent one day with the guy and I’d consider that a desperate cry for love.” Sero leaned against the short fence beside Mina who nodded in agreement.

“You’re not going to get anywhere if you keep making excuses.” She added.

“I’m not making excuses.”

“Look,” Mina said gently. “Bakugou is the type of guy who would lay on a pentagram and threaten a demon but shit himself trying to ask a guy out. If you want something to happen, you’re going to have to make the move.”

“What a type,” Kaminari said shaking his head.

Kirishima played the next few holes through muscle memory as he zoned out on Mina’s statement. He obviously wanted to go on a date with Bakugou. He wanted to go on hundreds of dates with Bakugou, he thought as a blush spread across his cheeks. There were infinite things Kirishima pictured experiencing with someone, and the more he got to know Bakugou the more he wanted that to be him. There were so many things he still didn’t know about the other YouTuber, and he wanted the opportunity to learn them. To learn everything he could.

The good. The bad. The stupid. Everything that made Bakugou… Bakugou. He wanted to understand it all. Kirishima didn’t know if the moments he had alone with Bakugou, the emotions that he felt when it was just them, were real or figments of his mind, but if there was a possibility for them to be more… Kirishima knew he should risk it.

“I’m doing it.” He announced. “Life with no regrets… right?”

Mina lifted her head up from her golf ball and a smile bloomed on her face. She dropped her putter and tackled Kirishima, wrapping him a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you, Eiji.”

“So, how we doing this?” Sero asked. “Boombox outside the window? Flowers? Airplane smoke stuff?”

“I just wanted to text him,” Kirishima said becoming self-conscious. “Is that not good?”

“That’s fine, sweetie. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled with whatever you do.”

Kirishima spent the second to last hole writing and rewriting a message out for Bakugou. This text could make or break their relationship. It could change Kirishima’s entire life. He had to put all his brainpower into making it absolutely perfect. He spent a good fifteen minutes crafting the message, and with all the confidence he could muster he handed his phone to Mina with a face so red it matched his bottle-dyed hair.

“I can’t do it. I need you to send it.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, finger on the trigger. He covered his eyes with his palms and nodded. “Alright. Sent.”

He grabbed his phone and stared at it stunned. Kirishima’s jaw hung open for a moment before he pointed a finger at Mina accusingly. “Why did you let me do that?”

“You asked me to!”

He ran a hand down his face with a dramatic groan. Kirishima didn’t bother fighting off Sero when he pried the cellphone from his hand. “‘Do you want to hang out just us sometime?’ You spent fifteen minutes on that?”

“He’s not dense enough to think Eiji meant as friends... is he?” Mina asked.

“He did think the confession in Mina’s video was out of context and fake.” Kaminari pointed out. He had his golf ball stuck in a corner of the course, so Kirishima this round was going as expected.

Kirishima twisted the head of his putter into the ground and chewed on his cheek. Should he send another text for clarification? Bakugou had been taking a long time to respond, so either he understood the message and was ignoring him or he just didn’t care. It could be awkward if he tried to fix it now. Kirishima didn’t know what to do. Was he overthinking this?

“Oh. Never mind, you’re good.”

Kirishima grabbed the device from Sero and unlocked his screen like lightning.

Bakugou: date or friends?

Kirishima froze. Holy shit, this was it. He was really going to ask out Bakugou Katsuki.

“Well, hurry up!” Mina shook his arm insistently. “Tell him a date.”

He sent the message rapidly and they all crowded around his phone, waiting for it to light up. It only took a few seconds and Kirishima took a deep calming breath before unlocking the screen.

Bakugou: yes.

Mina squealed and hopped on Kirishima’s back. He couldn’t help but bounce around excitedly with her contagious energy and he spun her around as they giggled together. His heartfelt like it was going to beat out of his rib cage, and he wanted to throw up in the best way, like, rainbows or something stupid. He just felt amazing.

“They grow up so fast,” Sero said, wiping a fake tear.

“You guys better react this way when I get a date.” Kaminari crossed his arms.

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“Hey. People are actually trying to use this course. If you kids are just going to screw off how about you go somewhere else?” An older man, somewhere in his forties, shouted at them while pointing his putter in their direction. The three-man posse tagging along started chuckling at the disrespectful comments. Kirishima scowled. They didn’t have to be assholes about it.

“No need to be rude,” Kirishima started. “We were just finishing up.”

“Didn’t look that way to us.” The guy scoffed. Kirishima scrunched up his nose in distaste. This man had some serious attitude problems.

“Look, buddy.” Mina placed closed fists on her hips and lifted her chin. “My friend is about to get the guy of his dreams. So how about you show a little respect and—”

“Do I look like I give a fuck? Just get off my course.”

Kirishima’s shoulders rose to his ears and he felt his blood start to run cold. Not because of anything the men were doing, but because they had just gotten on Mina’s bad side. And that was the last place somebody wanted to be. Kirishima thought he heard Kaminari visibly gulp in fear.

Mina pushed her chest out and her glare intensified. She began pushing up the sleeves on her cropped sweatshirt and marched forward. “Listen here, pal. I’m not afraid to—oop.”

Sero wrapped his arms around Mina’s mid-section and turned her away from the men she’d been about to fight. She kicked and swung wildly in his grasp and he turned his face away in a weak attempt to avoid getting smacked. “We’re fucking going.” He said, addressing the pricks behind them.

“Good.” The guy said. He really should have left it at that, but instead, he stupidly added, “and maybe teach your girlfriend to watch her mouth. Speak when spoken to like a good girl.”

The three boys slowly turned to him, muscles tense and fists clenched. Mina was still in Sero’s arms but Kirishima could feel the rage boiling from her. She was livid. He didn’t blame her, Kirishima was five seconds away from sending this guy across the park with one punch. He even saw Kaminari flexing a fist in his peripheral and he wasn’t one for confrontation.

Sero smiled evilly at the group and slowly let Mina loose. “Oops.”

The moment her feet touched the ground she was cracking her knuckles and stomping towards the men. Kirishima would never forget the verbal assault Mina laid down that night. He hadn’t imagined there were so many places someone could threaten to shove a putter, but Mina was one creative and terrifying son of a bitch. He had been positive one of them nearly started crying. He didn’t blame them; he probably would have too.

He noticed that Kaminari was watching the scene through spread fingers while Sero was… smiling? Not just smiling. He was full head tilted, soft eyes, and gentle smile. Full-on enamored by Mina kicking grown men’s asses. Kirishima narrowed his eyes.

What the absolute fuck was that?

His phone vibrated in his hand and he allowed himself to ignore the situation temporarily. But he stored that expression in his Kirishima memory bank for a later date.

Bakugou: We’re going to New Orleans this weekend to ‘ghost hunt’ I’m available tomorrow? Fuck is that too soon? Shit nevermind Fucking forget I talked about it even. Ignore all of this

Kirishima chewed his bottom lip to contain his own dopey smile. An employee of the mini-golf course had walked up to Mina and was doing their best to de-escalate the situation. Mina in rage mode was nearly impossible to disengage though, so Kirishima figured it was about time they intervened.

Kirishima: Sorry. Mina was kicking some guys asses. Tomorrow sounds great:)

~*~*~*~

“I can’t believe they kicked us out.” Mina slouched down in the passenger seat of Sero’s car. She had her arms crossed and her lips pushed out in an exaggerated pout.

Kirishima leaned his head against the cool glass of the car’s window and snickered at her over-the-top whining. “Well, you did threaten to end the guy’s bloodline in like thirteen different ways.”

“He deserved it.”

“We had one hole left,” Kaminari said. He was slinked down further than Mina and pouting almost as hard. “I was about to get a new high score.” Kirishima raised an eyebrow at him because he wasn’t sure whatever score Kaminari would have gotten was something to brag about.

“Well, I was winning anyway. So, didn’t matter to me.” Sero said.

“Someone’s cocky,” Mina said teasing. Sero winked at Mina and she giggled in her seat. Kirishima caught Sero’s eye in the rearview mirror and he quickly looked away. Kirishima knew something was up. Sero only acted suspiciously like that when he had a secret, and he was awful at keeping secrets.

“So, when’s your date with Bakugou?” Sero asked changing the subject to distract Kirishima, but Kirishima already knew his tactics. Nice try, Sero, but he wasn’t getting out of this.

“Tomorrow.”

“What?” Mina whipped around in the seat. “That’s so soon.”

“He’s busy filming this weekend.”

“And he suggested tomorrow?” She smiled slyly. “Interesting.”

Kirishima would choose to ignore whatever Mina had been trying to suggest with that for the time being.

“What are you guys doing?” Kaminari asked.

Kirishima blinked. “I haven’t decided. Honestly, I never imagined I’d get this far.” Kirishima fidgeted with his Chargebolt pop socket. He probably should have thought of something before asking Bakugou out.

“There’s not something you’ve always wanted to try doing with Bakugou?” Mina asked, head resting against her palm on the center armrest. Kirishima thought about it for half a second before his face started to glow red and he stared out the window, unable to maintain eye contact with Mina. “Oh, my—No. Stop. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“What about just, like, a classic movie date?” Kirishima shrugged, twisting his phone in his lap.

“Those are bad first dates,” Mina waved him off. “You can’t talk or get to know them. Save that for your third date.”

Kirishima rubbed his crocs together and his heart thrummed at the thought of them having a third date. “Okay, so eating then?”

“When was the last time you went on a date, dude?” Kaminari asked.

“Like… before YouTube?”

“That’s over four years.” Sero pointed out. Kirishima hadn’t thought too much about how inexperienced he’d become, but he supposed that could pose a problem. How many people had Bakugou dated? What if he was really good at dating and Kirishima was an idiot? Oh no…

“You’re stressing him out, guys.” Mina scolded.

“I didn’t mean to.” Kaminari shrunk further into the seat.

“I think you should go hiking.” Mina nodded her head. “That way you can show off how athletic you are and there’s plenty of time for talking. If it goes well you can get food to extend it.”

That actually sounded like the perfect idea. Kirishima loved exercising and being outdoors, so as long as the weather was nice hiking would be a perfect date. He nodded his head and unlocked his phone.

Kirishima: Do you like hiking?

Bakugou: yeah?

Kirishima: Is that an okay thing for our date?

Bakugou took an abnormally long amount of time to respond, and it wasn’t until they were pulling up in front of Mina’s apartment complex that Kirishima’s phone lit up with the notification.

Bakugou: Great. When?

Kirishima: Three or four? Won’t be too hot then

Bakugou: sounds good

Kirishima smiled and locked his phone for he assumed the rest of the night. It was a short drive from Mina’s apartment complex to their home, and the moment Kirishima unlocked the front door Kaminari went sprinting to the bathroom. When Kirishima heard the door slam, he knew he had a limited amount of time alone with Sero to address the obvious.

“So, how long have you liked Mina?”

His eyes widened in shock and they flickered towards the hall that Kaminari had sprinted down. “I don’t know. I just woke up and it was there.” Sero shrugged, staring at his shoes to avoid Kirishima’s calculating look. “Maybe a few days ago or maybe forever.”

Kirishima took a breath. “I’ve known Mina for over ten years.” He started. “She’s the reason I’m where I am today. I love all of you, but she’s practically blood at this point.”

Sero nodded.

“Which obviously means if you cross a line, or fuck something up. I won’t hesitate to kick your ass, dude.”

Sero met Kirishima’s intense stare and Kirishima saw a flash of determination flicker in his eyes. He didn’t shy away this time but nodded with confidence. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He couldn’t help but smirk at his friend’s bravado. Kirishima couldn’t say he was thrilled that one of his best bros was crushing on who he’d consider being his little sister, but at the same time, Sero was probably the best guy he’d ever met. In the end, this was Mina’s decision. She wasn’t the type to have her opinion swayed even if Kirishima tried to play wingman, but Sero already knew that.

Kaminari walked into the kitchen with them staring at each other challengingly and glanced between the two concerned. “Did I miss something?”

“Nothing important, bro,” Kirishima said. “I need to go lay in bed and stress out for the next eight hours instead of sleep.”

They wished him luck and waved him goodnight. Kirishima got himself ready for bed—washed gel from hair, stripped to boxers, brushed teeth—and flopped onto his mattress. He reached for the charger plugged in by his nightstand for charging his phone overnight but stopped when he noticed several text notifications. He must have missed them when he was lecturing Sero.

Bakugou: I’m looking forward to tomorrow or whatever I guess Not I guess I know Fuck. Idk. Have a good sleep? That was stupid. Pretend this didn’t happen

Kirishima smiled giddily, kicking his feet wildly beneath his comforter and pressing his phone against his chest. He wanted to understand what he did to all of a sudden feel this unreasonably happy. He bit his lip and hesitated before beginning to type out a response.

Kirishima: I am also excited. Goodnight:)

Bakugou: :) Fuck that was dumb ignore that

Kirishima’s heart was going to explode. Bakugou was going to kill him before Kirishima even had the chance of going on a real date with him.

Kirishima: :D no. I refuse that was too good:)

Bakugou: fuck you. Go to sleep. :)?

Kirishima: No you :) :) :)

He pulled his comforter above his head and let out a small squeal. Fuck. He’d fight every demon Bakugou didn’t believe in to be with this boy.

Bakugou Katsuki was going to absolutely destroy him.

[cmncisspnandmore]

Boy Wonder and Family: Prequel

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Warnings: vomiting, unplanned stuff, fluff,

A/n: Hello lovely readers! It’s me, I have decided that I’m going to be rewriting the entire Boy wonder and Family series. So I figured I might as well write the prequel. So here it is! I am working on the rewrite for the first part this weekend so if you have read it before, look for the new release!

~~~

It seemed odd to just about everyone that a high school senior would be dating a college kid with an undergrad and doctorate, and was working towards his second. Except you, you had met the kind genius while walking home from one of the classes you took at Caltech for extra credit. You were smart, you took AP classes, and three extra credit courses at Caltech but never expected to run into someone who by your age already had a doctorate.

You and Spencer had hit it off, becoming fast friends. You were lacking in the friend department, and honestly it was nice to be able to talk to someone your age. You quickly learned that he had an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory. Which fascinated you, to say the least.

When Spencer would walk you home he would often answer any questions you could think of about mathematics. It wasn’t your strong suit and seeing as he already had the degree, he found joy in helping you with your school work.

You had been there the day Spencer had sent Diana away to Bennington sanitarium. You watched from the doorway as the orderlies helped her into the car and drove off.

You watched as Spencer’s hardened exterior crumpled as his mother drove from sight. You held Reid that night as he sobbed until his chest ached and his head pounded. Not once did he ask you for a single thing but you always knew just what he needed. When he told you that you didn’t have to stay with him you refused, and you lay on his bed with him into the wee hours of the morning.

You spent the morning with him, helping him pick up his mother's room and store all her books so he could send them to her. After a long day of packing and cleaning, Spencer insisted he buy you dinner for all your help.

At first you were nervous, you had always had a crush on your best friend, and the invitation of dinner had caused your heart to somersault. It was at dinner that night Spencer managed to stutter out that maybe you could try to be more than friends. He confessed rather quickly and awkwardly that he had harbored a crush on you for some time, but didn’t want you to think it weird of him.

Without a moment of hesitation you had leant across the table and kissed the shy boy. Causing him to flush so red you thought he might pass out.

Since then you had been dating and now laying on his couch, you were trying to figure out one of the formulas for your chemistry course to no avail.

Spencer was at school still, having insisted on staying at the library to finish writing a paper for his psychology class. You had tried to persuade him to come back to the house to finish his paper and to spend some time with you before you had to leave for the weekend to go with your parents to Seattle for a presentation. But Spencer held firm, telling you that he would see you before you left, but being at the house would be distracting. Especially if you were there because you were quite the distraction to the young Dr.

You flip your textbook closed and sat up, stretching your arms out above your head. Your shoulders protest at the movement having gone stiff from holding your upper body up off the couch while you worked.

Checking your phone you hope to see that Spencer had sent you a text but there was nothing. You flip your phone closed and toss it onto the couch next to your chemistry book. Standing from the couch you walk into the kitchen in search of food, you pull open the fridge and see a jar of marinated mushrooms and a jar of pickles. You pull both out from the fridge and put them on the counter before grabbing a fork and perching on the counter and digging in.

As you’re eating your third pickle from the jar, the front door opens and Spencer strolls in, the tan messenger bag you got him for Christmas last year slung across his shoulder. He pulls it off and places it on the kitchen table, before he notices you sitting on his counter snacks in hand.

“Hello sweetheart.” He smiles and walks over to you standing between your legs and placing his hands on your thighs.

“What’s up Dr?” You smile and lean in to give him a quick kiss.

“I finished that paper,” he brushes some of your hair from your forehead, “and now I’m here to see you.”

“Well lucky you, I’m a sight to see.” With a wink you put the top back on the pickle jar and crack open the mushrooms.

“What are you eating?” He laughs as you stab your fork into the jar, spearing a mushroom.

“Well you, this is called a mushroom, and it comes in many shapes and sizes. Then they take this and they put it in..”

“I know what you’re eating but why?” He shakes his head, laughing at your quirky explanation.

“Because it looked good.. I don't know.”

“You hate pickles, you always complain that it gives you heartburn.” He gives a look and you shrug, after eating a few more of the mushrooms you put the cover back on and toss the fork into the sink.

“Well, maybe I enjoy the heartburn.” You smirk and wrap your arms around his neck, and he squeezes your hips.

“Mmm you say that now but tonight you’re gonna be crying about how uncomfortable you are.” He laughs as his nose bumps yours.

“Maybe you should give me something to distract me then?” You whisper your lips centimeters from his.

“Mmmmm…” Just as Spencer leans in to kiss you he pulls back just as fast. “Like that killer chemistry homework you have!” He smiles and walks away from the counter into the living room where your chemistry homework is still on the couch.

You pout for a moment, before hopping down, as you hop down your hand knocks the jars off the counter and they crash to the floor. You let out a shriek and kneel to pick up the now shattered glass. Spencer skids to a halt and grabs the broom from the closet and helps you clean up the glass. You felt dumb, you were never clumsy and now here you were knocking stuff off the counter because your boyfriend causes you to be sexually frustrated.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” He asks after he throws out the jar shards and helps you stand up. You shake your head, and blink a few times trying to get your emotions under control.

“What’s wrong? You’re never like this.” He leads you over to the couch and sits you down.

“I just I feel dumb, I know it was an accident but I just haven’t been feeling like myself. I don’t want to go to Seattle, and I think it’s just messing with me.” You shrug as Spencer tucks you into his arms, resting his chin on your head.

“Then don’t go, stay here with me. I’m sure your parents would be okay with it. Just tell them that we have something we have to do for my mom.” Spencer suggests, as he strokes your hair.

“Maybe, I don’t want them to be mad. And you have work you need to do before the weekends over. I don’t want to distract you.” You mumble and glance at your phone.

“I want you to stay here. Please? Just call and ask.” He reaches over you and grabs your phone flipping it open and pressing it into your hand.

With a small nod you go into your contacts and select your mother's number, you put the phone to your ear as it rings and wander off into Spencer’s room.

“Hello?”

“Mom? It’s me.”

“What’s wrong dear? You sound conflicted.” You sit on the edge of Spencer’s bed.

“I just haven’t been feeling like myself, and it’s been bothering me. I really don’t want to go to Seattle this weekend.”

“Oh honey, you don’t have to go, you have been kinda off lately, maybe you’re coming down with a cold? Your father and I can do the presentation without you, we just thought you would want to come along for the trip. But if you want to stay than you can,” your mother shuffled around something on the other side of the phone line.

“Really? You aren’t mad?” You lay back on the bed, back flat against the blankets, legs dangling over the edge.

“No honey, we aren’t mad. You might be getting sick and if you are we don’t want to drag you to another state. Why don’t you get some rest this weekend and we’ll talk more when we get back.” You moms warm voice settles the nerves you had about calling her.

“Okay, I’ll call you on Sunday when you get back okay?”

“Alright, I love you.”

“Love you too mom.” You flip the phone closed and stare at the ceiling for a moment. You can hear Spencer moving around in the other room. After a few moments your stomach starts to turn and you sit up, clamping your hand over your mouth you take off to the bathroom. Your nearly knock over Spencer on your way to the bathroom. Your land on your knees with a hard thud as you grasp the porcelain bowl with your hands and the contents of your snack are expelled into the toilet.

Maybe your mom was right, you could be getting sick. As you blindly reach up to flush the toilet, you feel a hand on your back. Rubbing soothing circles against your shirt.

“You okay? Pickles not agree with you?” Spencer asks as he hands you a tissue and you use it to wipe your mouth.

“I think I’m coming down with something, my mom mentioned I’ve been kinda off as well.” You stand up from the toilet and turn on the sink rinsing your mouth out and then splashing cold water on your face.

Spencer hands you a towel to wipe your face off with and then guides you back to his room.

“Here why don’t you lay down and I’ll get you some water and saltines.” He lifts the blankets for you and you crawl in, wrapping the blankets around you.

“Okay, if i don’t feel better in the morning I’ll stop into a walk in clinic and get checked out.” You rest your head against the pillows.

“Sounds like a good idea, get some rest” he leans down and kisses your head. You turn over and close your eyes. Quickly you fall asleep, and Spencer spends some time in the living room looking over his research paper. Around midnight he turns in and tucks himself behind you and falls asleep for the night. During the night you got up a few more times to get sick, dry heaving mainly, and Spencer makes his way sleepily out of bed each time and holds you hair and rubs your back.

By morning, he was convinced you needed to be seen so the first thing in the morning he made you get up and go see a doctor.

Waiting for the nurses to call you back feels like an eternity, you flip through a magazine as you wait.

“Y/n?” A nurse in pink scrubs calls, holding the door open. You stand up and walk back with her, and she leads you to an exam room.

“We’re going to need a urine sample, and once we have that the doctor will be in to examine you.” She smiles and hands you a small cup and gestures to the small bathroom for you to use.

You lock the bathroom door and then do what the nurse instructed leaving it in the small metal cabinet. You then meet her outside the bathroom and she leads you back into the exam room and you sit there wringing your hands as you wait for the doctor to come in.

It seemed to take a lot longer than usual for them to come back, but you knew that per usual visit before they could give you anything for an illness they had to make sure you weren’t pregnant. Because medications can harm a baby, so all you thought was that the lab was a little backed up.

After a few more minutes the doctor comes in with her clipboard.

“Hi I’m Dr. Henley, I just got your lab results back. And congratulations! You’re expecting.” She smiles at you, and you swore time stopped.

“I’m.. I’m sorry… there has to be a mistake.” You use a shaky hand to push your hair back from your face.

“There’s no mistake, you are pregnant. We can take a look if you want.” She suggests and you nod. Not ready to believe it until you see something for yourself.

She goes into the hall for a moment and comes back with an ultrasound machine. And starts to set it up.

“Alright, just lay on back for me and pull your shirt up and slide your shorts down a little so we can get a good look here.” She pulls the gel off the cart and waits as you lay back.

“Okay, here we go, this is going to be cold, I’m sorry.” She squirts the gel onto your flat stomach, and puts the Doppler on your stomach and starts to move it around. After a moment of moving it around she stops and turns the screen to you as a wishing sound fills the air.

“Here they are!” She points to the screen at two small black sacks.

“They?” You stare at the screen as your eyes fill with tears.

“Yup, it looks like you have twins you’re about 8 weeks, let me print these out for you and give you some information on your options.” She smiles and prints the sonograms.

Once she prints them out she hands a bunch of pamphlets on what your options are and tells you to pick up a prenatal vitamin. On the drive home you can barely concentrate as your mind races with what you’re going to do. You couldn’t hide this from Spencer, he was smarter than that to know when you were lying.

As you put your car in park in his driveway you take a deep breath. Climbing out of the car you clutch the sonogram pictures to your chest. Spencer is sitting in the living room when you enter, his nose in his chemistry book.

Without saying anything you walk up to him and stand in front of him, before he can look up you slide the sonogram pictures down in front of where he’s reading and put your hand up to your mouth as your tears start to fall.

It takes him a moment before he picks up one of the pictures and looks at it. He opens his mouth and closes it a few times as he looks for the right words.

“Is this… is this what I think it is?” He asks as he glances up and takes in your tears stained cheeks.

“Y/n, are you pregnant?” He asks and you nod your head.

“I’m sorry..” you whisper into your hands, and Spencer gathers you into his arms the chemistry book discarded on the floor.

“Don’t be sorry, it was an accident, but we’ll be okay.” He strains against the emotion in his voice.

“It’s twins….” you mutter as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure this out.” He whispers as he strokes your sides. One hand moving to the front of your stomach where your baby bump will be.

“We’re gonna get through this together.”

~~~~~~

Tag List:

Criminal Minds: @morcialovechild @banananna99 @cynbx

[sinsbymanka]

Update: Girl with the Arrow Tattoo Chapter 36!

Full fic is over at AO3! Modern Thedas AU with magic, demons, and so much angst and pining. Just... so much. 

Well, Maria thought to herself, she’d been a semi-decent Inquisitor for approximately seventy-two hours. In all honesty, a better run that she expected to have before she finally ran into the one thing she could not do. 

That one thing was reading a fucking speech. 

She buried her face in her hands, ignoring the scattered notecards all over the floor, the ones she’d thrown there in a fit of pique. She couldn’t meet Josephine’s anxious gaze one more time, but she felt it on her shoulders anyway. The silence hung over them like miasma, poison she was going to choke on. 

“Alright, Inquisitor.” Harding kept her voice carefully light. “Maybe we need to try something a bit different.” 

Maria looked up, spearing Harding with a glance she hoped conveyed her complete exasperation with the entire situation. She’d had it with the camera pointed at her damn face, the notecards containing Josephine’s carefully chosen words, and Harding’s disappointed little wrinkling her brow. She felt like screaming.

Instead, Maria sighed and bent down, sweeping most of the cards back into her hand, shuffling them back into order without thought. She stared at the neat, precise handwriting until her eyes ached. The words flowed when she read them in her mind, but the second she tried to push them into the air, they turned to lead weights and awkward silences. 

“Let me see those.” Harding plucked the cards from her hand and frowned at them. 

“Perhaps I should rewrite it. Again.” Josephine stepped forward over Maria’s shoulder. “Allow me…” 

Maria wasn’t certain that rewriting the speech she was supposed to be giving would help any more the third time around. She’d still be nothing more than a wooden puppet, dull and lifeless, stumbling over the simplest words, unable to look at the camera without turning red and stuttering. 

“Good idea! I’ve got a better one.” Harding grinned and held Maria’s gaze before tossing the cards over her shoulder where they fell like a deck of cards, scattering in all directions. Maria huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. 

“Does that mean we give up and I can go do something productive?” Maria asked. She had a little under a thousand things on her to-do list. Re-establishing connection with the outside world came with a cost, after all. 

It turned out, everyone thought they were ghosts. Orlais and Ferelden had rescue teams scouring the area, the meager forces either country could spare with Ferelden trying to clean up from the witch rebellion and Orlais in full scale civil war. The would-be rescuers were more than a little confused to discover that so many people had escaped Haven, found a magical fortress, and flourished in the aftermath. 

But it was Maria’s continued, implausible, survival that really astounded the world. Unfortunately, she was trending across all the social media channels. Again. Harding’s footage of the avalanche that buried Maria had gone viral almost immediately. Memorials sprung up in the most unlikely places, from Denerim’s chantry to the docks at Ostwick. Josephine released a statement, but it became increasingly clear it wouldn’t sate the appetite of Thedas. They wanted Maria, more than just the photographs of her greeting the rescue teams. More than the stolen video clips of her wandering Skyhold carrying supplies. They clamored for her to speak, to tell her story, to shine her attention on them. 

Maria didn’t really think even her sputtering on camera would be enough. She worried the world wouldn’t be happy until it swallowed her whole, honestly. 

“No more reading off these cards.” Harding stated, fiddling with her camera for a moment before putting it back on it’s tripod and dragging her chair over to Maria’s. Harding sat down and leaned forward, lightly placing her fingertips on the back of Maria’s palm. “To be honest, you suck at it. A lot.” 

“The honesty I need to hear.” Maria joked weakly, sagging back in her chair. “Tell Josie to give it up.” 

“Inquisitor…” Josephine sighed. Harding shook her head and smiled apologetically. 

“Sorry, we’ve got to try one more thing before you’re off the hook.” Harding tapped her finger lightly on Maria’s skin. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Fuck, Harding.” Maria raised her marked hand to her forehead and rubbed away the impending headache. “You were there. You know what happened.” 

“I know.” Harding said softly. Maria fixed her gaze on Harding’s and watched as the woman swallowed some great emotion, a shudder passing through her. “Hard to talk about, isn’t it? I swear every time I try to remember, I can hear the people we lost screaming. Smell the smoke.” 

Maria gulped down her own panic, the fear that she’d look up and see the dragon’s wings darkening the sky through the pretty windows. She sounded like she was begging, but she didn’t care. “Harding…”

“What happened first?” Harding pressed softly. “I was back with Varric, I couldn’t see. I heard the gunshots, they said you were on the frontline.” 

She’d been. With Solas, then Bull. The girl who died beside her, choking on her own blood. Maria never even knew her name. They’d lost so many people, and Maria never knew any of their names. She flicked her eyes to the camera and Harding squeezed her hand. 

“Don’t look at it.” Harding directed. “Look at me.” 

If she looked at Harding, she may cry. She blinked several times, trying to bring her expression under control. The silence stretched on until Maria let out a long, heavy breath. “The Templars came in armoured SUVs. We barely had any warning, so we erected barriers out of anything we could get our hands on. They’d been poisoned by the red lyrium, like we saw on the news in Kirkwall with the Knight Commander, but there were so many of them. They didn’t care if we shot them, they kept coming out of the darkness like a nightmare.” 

“But the Inquisition had explosives.” Harding supplied softly. Maria nodded, focusing on Harding’s hand on hers. 

“Yes.” Maria’s voice sounded a bit more sure. If she ignored the camera, ignored Josephine’s silent presence, and just focused on Harding it was easier. “Yes. They’d been left there. The Inquisition requisitioned your drone to deliver the explosives…” 

Harding gently prodded Maria through most of it, but the words flowed when she spoke. The templars. The dragon. Corypheus. The avalanche. One rolled into the other, but by the time they got to Skyhold, Maria felt raw, scraped clean on the inside. Harding pulled back, looked at Josephine expectantly. 

“We will need to edit it for length and clarity.” Josephine nodded, all business, but Maria saw her hands shaking as she typed something into her tablet. “But…. forgive me.” 

Josephine wiped her face briskly with her sleeve, shooting Maria a watery, wan smile. “I was not prepared to be so moved. I will remember that you should not be scripted. For the future.” 

“Well, Inquisitor.” Harding smiled, tears in her own eyes as well that she dabbed away. “How was that interview you said you’d never give me?” 

Maria laughed, the sound relieved and choked. “Maker.” She wheezed. “Did you get me saying that on camera the first time? If so, you should tack it onto the end.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Harding stood, extending her hand to Maria. “Not bad, Inquisitor. Not bad at all.” 

“I try.” Maria reached automatically for her phone in her pocket, frowning at the ever present notifications while she allowed Harding to hoist her up. She skipped the emails, those she needed to pick through at night when she wouldn’t be interrupted and they wouldn’t keep multiplying on her. The text messages usually were more urgent.

Usually being the key word. The first one, of course, was from Sera. It consisted of a string of nonsensical emojis (fried shrimp? Who actually used the fried shrimp?) plus a blurry photo that could have been Cullen’s desk chair on top of one of the turrets. She sent a simple thumbs up and moved to the next one. 

Varric. Again. She opened up the message, hunching her shoulders defensively as Hading and Josephine talked over her, to read the string of messages. 

Varric: Let me know if you get this. I made another minor adjustment. Maria: Stop fucking with it before you fall off the walls. We don’t have health insurance here. Varric: Let me guess, no worker’s comp either? Maria: Negative on the workers comp. We may have beer, though. Varric: That’s the best medicine. Hey, do you have a minute? Maria: Also negative. Cullen wants me to meet his senior officers and introduce myself properly. Varric: Right, when you have a second. Maria: Sure. Varric: How about now? Maria: Leliana’s explaining Orlais to me. Varric: Right. Let me know if you figure it out.  Varric: Later tonight? Maria: I can’t, I’m going over supply manifests with Josephine. Maria: Maybe tomorrow. Varric: So, it’s tomorrow. Just in case you haven’t noticed. Maria: I’ve been told. I’m sorry, I’m swamped. I’ve got a speech to memorize and give for Harding and Josephine. Varric: Alright, Princess. I’ll stop bothering you - come by when you can. Varric: And in case nobody told you yet today, you’re knocking this Inquisitor thing out of the park. Best inquisitoning I’ve ever seen by far. 

Fuck. Fuck. Why was this so fucking hard? Three days of messages, three days of ducking around Varric wherever and whenever she saw him. Three days nursing her bruised ego and railing against her own stupidity for believing for even a moment Varric fucking Tethras truly… 

He’d be what she needed, if she asked, because he was kind, because he felt bad for her, because she wasn’t bad to look at. But she could never be what he actually wanted, and that… that stung. That stung far more than she could deal with just now on top of everything else. She certainly couldn’t spend time in his orbit, smelling his cologne, listening to his sinfully rich voice, waiting for his smiles and his laugh. 

But she couldn’t ignore him either. She couldn’t.

Maria: Wait until you see whatever just happened on TV later then decide my prowess.

As she typed the message, another one popped in. She swiped to view it and fought back a smirk. 

Dorian: Fasta vass, come here.  Maria: Where are you?  Dorian: Follow the sound of wailing and gnashing of teeth. 

What did she do to deserve Dorian Pavus’s histrionics today? Maria simply pulled up the group chat, typing one simple question into it. 

Maria: Anyone point me to our favorite neighborhood magister? Dorian: I am not a Magister, you heathen. Bull: Have you tried following the trail of spilled wine? Sera: or smell of hair wax Vivienne: Second floor rotunda, darling. You can’t miss his ostentatious shirt. Maria: Thanks Viv. 

She slipped her phone back in her pocket and frowned at Josephine. “I’ve got to go.” 

“I will email you the final footage for your approval.” Josephine declared smoothly, making a note in  her tablet. Harding simply saluted lazily.  

“Don’t.” Maria groaned, making a bee-line for the door. “I’m not going to watch it anyway. Just… whatever works. Do that.” 

She fled before Josephine could argue, flying through the crowd in the great hall before anyone could stop and catch her attention. She found that speed was the key for moving across Skyhold, because if she slowed down for even a moment, she got roped into a hundred different projects of varying degrees of importance. She slipped into the rotunda and turned toward the stairs…

“Inquisitor.” Solas called. “A moment?” 

Well, at least it was just Solas. She paused and turned to look at him. The elf was studying the blank wall in front of him, frowning thoughtfully. “What’s up?” 

“I find the act of painting meditative and I wish to design some murals for this room. I asked Skyhold, but I believe the spirit wishes you to make the final determination.” Solas turned his back on the wall and pierced her with his gaze. “Would you like to see some sketches before I proceed?” 

“You can paint?” She asked instead, curious. Solas simply smiled. 

“I can.” He admitted. “I think I do so rather well. One of my few true talents.” 

Sera could draw too, although she sincerely hoped Solas’s paintings were much less provocative. Sera’s most detailed sketches seemed to feature big breasted women in various states of undress. Maria wondered, momentarily, if it was an elf thing. Then, she internally winced and scolded herself for being a bit racist. 

“Yeah, sure. I don’t need to see them. This is kinda your office, isn’t it?” Maria waved at the room, empty of all but a neat little couch and a tidy desk littered with papers. “Whatever you want to do.” 

“A dangerous offer.” Solas smiled warmly down at her. “I shall try not to abuse the privilege. I thought, perhaps, to create a visual history of the Inquisition? The destruction of the conclave, the Inquisition’s formation, recruiting the witches at Redcliffe and…” 

“Haven.” Maria whispered softly. Haven. She ached with it’s loss and all the fallen they’d left, so raw and fresh again after the interview. She feared she would carry it with her the rest of her life like a scar on her heart. 

“Haven.” Solas repeated. “It weighs on you. I am sorry.” 

“I think we’re all still reeling.” Maria tried to make her tone light, shrugging. “How did you ask Skyhold? About the murals? Varric keeps trying to talk to her through Cole but I don’t think it’s going well.” 

“It is not, but Varric is a child of the stone. He does not understand such things.” Solas muttered, examining the walls.

Maria flinched just a bit. Well, maybe she should have asked about the painting skills being an elf thing then. If ‘children of the stone’ was getting thrown about so casually, it certainly would have put him in his place. 

“I want to understand.” She insisted instead. “You know about spirits. You said some of them were your friends. Can you… can you introduce me? Is that how it works?” 

“You wish to learn? About spirits and the fade?” Solas asked, incredulity lacing his voice, piercing her with his eyes. 

“Yes.” Maria answered sternly, lifting her chin. “You’re the expert. I can clearly do… something with this mark on my hand. Teach me about the fade before I shoot myself in the foot.” 

Solas continued to look down at her, blinking slowly, before he shook his head. “You are full of constant surprises.” 

It wasn’t a no. Maria smirked. “So… you will?” 

“Cadash!” Dorian shouted from above them. “I can hear you distinctly not making your way up here. Solas can wait his blighted turn.” 

“If you wish.” Solas smiled, hesitant. “But Dorian is right. We will do so at another time.” 

“Great.” Maria grinned, waved her hand at the walls. “Have fun. Don’t let Sera help.” 

With that parting bit of advice, she sauntered to the stairs, leaving Solas to his quiet contemplation. She made sure to take her time, lingering an extra second before emerging onto the next floor.

Which… had sprung bookshelves. Apparently. She blinked, looking around, taking in the rows of empty shelving. Dorian stood in one of the new alcoves, scowling and tapping his fingers on the wood. “Was putting me on blast in the group chat strictly necessary?” He asked grimly.

“Next time, you’ll answer my question instead of being so dramatic.” Maria tipped her head to the side, examining his tailored black shirt with the intricate silver embroidery over the shoulders. “I don’t think that shirt is so bad at all.” 

“Because you have proper taste.” Dorian sniffed. “You also have an empty library.” 

“Odd.” Maria agreed, tracing the nearest plush armchair with her fingers, taking in the rich velvet upholstery. “Wasn’t this Cullen’s office yesterday?” 

“That’s over on the battlements now, under his bedroom. Frankly, I think he’s happier.” Dorian waved Cullen’s migrating office away dismissively. “This lackluster excuse for an archive is outrageous. And Fiona will not see reason.” 

Maria finally noticed the other figure on the floor, the elf glaring holes into Dorian’s back. Fiona stepped forward, pleading. “Inquisitor, you must understand, I cannot simply agree to hand over our history for the perusal of…” 

“Ethnocentrism at it’s finest!” Dorian sniffed. “She’s concerned I’ll find something useful her people missed.” 

“His people tried to enslave us!” Fiona lifted her chin, icy and regal. “I will not…” 

“Dorian did an awful lot to prevent that from happening.” Maria wouldn’t sit here and just… let Dorian be slandered. Not when he was the only one who knew what Fiona’s idiocy nearly cost them. “What’s the issue?” 

“All the knowledge of the southern circles is sitting, abandoned, in their shoddy little prisons.” Dorian pointedly didn’t look at Fiona, but stared imploringly at Maria instead. “It should be here where it can be studied, where perhaps we can use what we find. Even Madame de Fer agrees, but unfortunately Fiona is rather distraught that my grubby little Tevene hands will be all over it.” 

“Those tomes are quite valuable!” Fiona insisted. “They must be left in…” 

“The circles you ran out of?” Maria broke in, raising an eyebrow. 

“Until they can be collected by the witches and catalogued appropriately…” Fiona persisted. 

Maria fought the urge to roll her eyes and balled her hands into fists, hunching her shoulders. She bit out the words like bullets. “Grand Enchanter, your witches joined the Inquisition because it wasn’t a very good idea to keep going it alone. May I remind you, now is probably an even shittier time to strike out solo.”

Fiona bristled. “Are you saying we would no longer be welcome if…” 

Balls. Who the fuck had time for this? Maria rubbed her forehead, attempting to soothe the headache returning with a vengeance. She lowered her voice to a steely command. “I’m saying that maybe you should remember you are part of a team and act accordingly. Which includes treating everyone here with the same respect you insist on receiving.” 

Fiona set her jaw and looked like she had every intention of continuing to argue, so Maria turned to Dorian instead. “I’ll get Cullen to see if we can spare some people once we’ve got a clear path in and out of Skyhold.” 

Maria paused, shooting a disdainful look back at the elf. “Unless that’s going to be a problem, Fiona?” 

“Of course not. Inquisitor.” Maria could feel the acid on the other woman’s tongue. “I hope this decision proves wise and that you are not judged harshly on your… trusting nature.” 

With that, the woman rotated robotically on her heel. She reached the nearest door and pushed it. The door remained resolutely shut even as she struggled. It finally fell open only once she pressed her entire weight into it, leaving Fiona scrambling in a rather undignified manner to regain her balance. Maria heard Vivienne’s voice drifting from the other room before Fiona slammed the door shut behind her. “Careful, darling. A fall at your age would be disastrous.” 

Maria barely covered her laugh with her hand, immediately looking up to see Dorian not even bothering to hide his smug satisfaction as he spoke. “Well. That felt rather vindicating, didn’t it?” 

“Is that why you wanted me? To make her give you books for our new library?” Maria asked, trailing after Dorian as he settled into one of the plush chairs at a rather sturdy table. “I’m guessing we can’t just order the ones you want online and have them shipped?” 

“If only. Although I do wish to place an order for some items from my homeland. Nothing illegal to get southern panties in a twist, I promise, just some charts. I confess I’m not entirely certain what our address is, however. Not to mention whether or not we’re eligible for two-day shipping.” Dorian’s fingers continued to tap, anxiously, on the wooden surface of the table. Maria wrapped her arms around her waist and waited. “You know. Corypheus claims to be Tevinter himself. A Magister, in fact.” 

“He didn’t look human to me.” Maria replied, shrugging. “He looked like a demon. Don’t demons lie? A lot?” 

“Perhaps.” Dorian mused. “They say the blight is punishment for the sins of our Magisters who dared to walk in the realm of the Maker.” 

“They’re also rather convinced I’m the Herald of Andraste.” Maria shrugged her shoulders a second time. Humans were strange. Fuck if she knew what the truth was behind Corypheus. Honestly, she didn’t see how it mattered one way or the other. 

“Not Andrastian, I take it?” Dorian teased, but the longer she listened, the more she heard something wrong under his light tone. He continued talking regardless, the words meaningless. “Not that I blame you. Boring stuff. I was raised Andrastian, of course, but I’m afraid that I’ve been lying about attending services to my eternally disappointed mother for…” 

“Dorian.” Maria interrupted. “What’s wrong?” 

Dorian’s fingers lost their rhythm, the incessant tapping ceasing while his dark eyes bored into hers. “You’re rather observant today.” 

“Survival instinct.” Maria claimed. One she’d finely honed. “Don’t change the subject. What’s happened?” 

If it was bad news, Maria wasn’t sure she could handle any more. Dorian simply sighed, slumping in his chair. He was silent for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “I received word from a few of my remaining friends back in Minrathous. Do you remember Felix?”

How could she forget Felix? Their, admittedly few, interactions were branded in her mind. Him stumbling against her, him pleading with his father, the ghoul with the unseeing eyes and Leliana’s arm around his neck…

“I never asked...” Guilt churned in her stomach. She hadn’t asked, she’d fled and let the Inquisition deal with it because she’d been choking on Varric’s blood and Hawke’s inferno. She’d been a weak, spineless thing good for nothing but being led back to Haven by her nose. 

She couldn’t. She couldn’t do that again. She was the Inquisitor now and she had to deal. She choked down the memories and took a deep breath, clenching her hands into fists until her nails cut into her skin, the pain a stark reminder of where she was, whose eyes were staring at her. “I never asked how he was. What happened to him and…” 

And his father. The man who would have killed them all.

“You were exhausted and there was no need for you to manage the fallout after… after everything.” Dorian frowned. “It was my mess to clean up, after all. We packed them on their plane and sent them back to Tevinter. Alexius was arrested as soon as he stepped foot in Minrathous on the King of Ferelden’s insistence, although I’m sure he’ll be quietly released once it’s diplomatically safe to do so. Felix…” 

Dorian’s voice grew hoarse with emotion, his eyes dropping to his hands. “I’m afraid Felix has passed. He pulled a thousand strings to get in front of the Senate, to deliver a rousing speech denouncing the Venatori cult and warning the Magisterium, and… then I suppose he laid down his sword.” 

Maria felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving them both floundering as Dorian struggled to bear the grief written all over his face. Maria’s numb lips asked the question before her brain could process it. “He was sick?” 

“The blight. He was on a research expedition with his mother into the abandoned Deep Roads. She… she passed several months ago. Alexius is alone now. I suspect all he really wished was the power to save his son.” 

Dorian’s raw devastation was the only thing that prevented her from pointing out that he’d nearly killed the entire world and everyone Maria had left in his mad quest to save Felix. She couldn’t forgive him. Not even for Dorian. 

But she knew better than to say it. Particularly when Dorian covered his face with one hand, the slight tremor in his shoulders the only sign of the sobs he struggled to hold back. Maria unwrapped her arms from her torso, hesitating only a moment. With Dorian sitting and her standing, she stood just a bit taller than him. She stepped forward, tentative, and rested her marked palm on his shoulder. His free hand reached up almost immediately to cover hers, a silent gesture of gratitude while his long fingers wrapped gently over her hand and squeezed. 

“He was the best of us, you know.” Dorian murmured beneath his hand. “You could always count on Felix. If he had not been my friend, I… I don’t know what I would have done. I don’t know if I would be here now.” 

“He clearly thought you weren’t half bad either.” Maria offered, at a loss for anything else to say with that weighted confession in the air. “He went along with your crazy plan in Redcliffe, didn’t he?” 

Dorian’s laugh sounded broken, laced with unshed tears, but it was still warm and unbearably soft. “Of course he did. It was a brilliant one.”

Dorian dropped his hand from his face, eyes shining with emotion. His fingers gripped hers again. “At least Felix wasn’t the only decent sort kicking around Thedas.” 

xx

Varric tried not to be overly obvious in his leisurely stroll to the rotunda. Up the courtyard steps, through the gallery where Vivienne set up her alchemy table because she claimed the light was ideal. Fiona nearly ran him over in her hurry to escape past the other witch, her face blotchy with fury. 

Maker’s balls, what did Dorian do? The last thing Maria needed was Fiona deciding to cause trouble because Sparkler stepped on a few toes. Varric scrubbed his hand across his jaw, casting his eyes back down at the group chat while he ambled past Vivienne holding up a glass beaker to the light. 

“Leave Dorian to his tantrum.” Vivienne advised, lifting her eyes from her work. “I’ve found the Inquisitor is the best one at talking him down. She’s more than capable.” 

“And miss the material for my next book?” Varric asked cheerfully. “Never.” 

Vivienne shrugged her elegant shoulders. “Suit yourself.” 

He would. At first, he’d been… understanding of Maria vanishing into the ether. He even tried to convince himself it was better, tried to talk himself into some gratitude that she wasn’t rubbing her rejection in his face. She was being kind, that was all, and sensible. Extremely sensible.

Except Varric needed to talk to her about an over growing list of items. He’d prefer to make his confession about Hawke in person, after all. He still needed to explain how the new AI on her phone worked and assuage any worries about robot eavesdropping, which was always better done face-to-face. The wi-fi in the castle was still spotty and she seemed to be the only one who could reason with her damn… 

As if it knew the direction of his thoughts, when he placed his hand on the door leading to the rotunda and shoved, Skyhold kept the door stubbornly shut. A gloating declaration that the group chat messages didn’t say Maria Cadash was looking for Varric Tethras, did they?

“You learn to read?” Varric grumbled quietly, praying to the Maker himself that Vivienne couldn’t hear him. He pressed forward again. 

The door didn’t budge. Varric knelt to examine the lock, frowning, but the knob rattled. It was, he thought, like a snake warning someone they were getting too close to its territory. 

“If you think I won’t pick this lock, you’ve got another thing coming.” Varric threatened. He had damn good lockpicks, and nothing but time. At the very least, he’d put some good scratches into… 

The door slid open silently just a crack, relenting to his whims. Or so Varric thought. When he went to shove it the rest of the way, it held fast. Varric could see a sliver of the room, now filled with empty shelves and plush chairs. One of those chairs contained Dorian Pavus, Maria standing in front of him, close enough to fall into his lap. She had her hand on his shoulder and as he watched, Dorian dropped the palm that covered his face to the table beside him. Varric could see the traces of lingering emotion etched into his handsome features. Maria smiled, a tenuous thing, but still there. She shook her head in silence, refuting whatever he’d said. Dorian took the hand he had trapped on his shoulder and lifted it, bringing her knuckles to his lips and placing a chaste, courtly kiss on them. 

The door closed gently, like a mother tucking their children into bed. A clear signal that Varric was interrupting a moment. One he had no part of. 

And the author in him, at least, could see the beauty in it. Dorian playing the part of an exiled stranger chased from his homeland, a prince in all but name trying to do the noble thing and fighting evil despite losing his family fortune meeting. Maria starring as a former criminal with a heart of gold, one who found herself lifted from the gutter to lead the righteous in a fight for the very soul of the world. It was a damn fine story. Varric almost wished he would have come up with it himself. Almost. 

The rest of him felt sick with envy. A monster inside him desperately craved the right to place a kiss on Maria’s skin, the opportunity to have her lean towards him with that same sort of careless intimacy, to have her fall against him the same way she had their doomed night in Haven. 

But it wasn’t him. Yet again, it was someone else who had that privilege. Varric turned, blindly stalking past Vivienne. He tried to ignore her sharp, lingering gaze on his shoulder blades. It didn’t burn as much as the jealousy in his stomach anyway. He threw the door open and emerged on the walls back above the courtyard. Down below, he could see children drawing on the ancient walls with brightly colored chalk. Their laughter rang brightly, full of sheer joy. 

It hit him like shrapnel and he ran from it, back up the battlements. He wasn’t sure, entirely, where he was going. He just needed to keep walking, to put the picture of Maria and Dorian firmly behind him until he could look at it with some distance. Until it didn’t feel like holding a bleeding heart…

“But it’s not like that!” 

Cole’s furious protest from behind him made Varric stop short, turning to watch the kid scramble after him. The kid’s cheeks were flushed pink like he’d run halfway across the castle to catch Varric. He huffed to catch his breath, staring down Varric with panic. “No. She wanted to show you, but it knotted up all your strings. He needed her. Loss comes in waves, a small smile sneaking snacks into the study. Gone. He’s gone now and he was one of the last bits of home that didn’t cut the wrong way. She knows grief. She understands how to carry it.” 

“Kid, it’s fine.” Varric pinched his nose, hard, hoping the pain would clear the image from his head. Maria’s flushed cheeks, her shy amusement as Dorian’s lips brushed her skin. His princess in her castle with her devoted knight at her feet. Not him. Never him. 

“But it’s not.” Cole protested vehemently. “You’re both so scared. But the fall isn’t far and it’s soft underneath the walls. Alone isn’t safe. If no one knows you’re alive, you aren’t.” 

The kid’s imploring tone softened, his eyes bright with emotion. “Tell her. You have the words and she’s been silent for so long.” 

He had a million things to tell her. But having her shoulder his bruised heart wasn’t on his list. “It’s alright.” Varric repeated. “It’s complicated, kid.” 

“It isn’t.” Cole protested. 

Varric’s phone vibrated in his hand and he looked down, the unknown number flashing across the screen. It could only be one person. “I gotta take this.” 

He transferred the call directly to his earpiece, answering with a small amount of wariness while he turned his back on Cole to stare out over the mountains. “Hello?” 

“I’ve got good news.” Hawke’s sanguine voice was just what he needed to hear. He closed his eyes to bask in it for a second. “And I’ve got bad news. Which do you want first?” 

“I could use some good news.” He looked back over his shoulder, but found Cole had vanished as suddenly as he appeared. That… probably didn’t bode well. He sighed and leaned on the battlements, looking out instead, ignoring the prickling in his gut. 

“The smuggler you sent me didn’t slit my throat on the freighter to Jader. Which, by the way, rhymes.” 

Varric chuckled almost against his will. “And the bad news?” 

“You know that sleeping thing I said I’d do on the ship? Well, guess who forgot how much she hates sea travel. I hope you’re not expecting me to be in working order when I climb those damn mountains, Varric, because I’m going to need a nap.” 

Guilt twisted inside him uneasily. He didn’t want Hawke exhausted, falling prey to red templars or Venatori on the road. “You can stop and rest, Waffles. A day or two isn’t gonna kill us.” 

“It may.” Hawke joked. “The way your luck’s been lately? I won’t chance it. Besides, the more distance in between me and Fen I can get is best.” 

If someone didn’t know her well, they’d miss the hitch in her voice, the careful lightness almost smoothing it over. Varric sighed. He hadn’t heard a word from the elf, but he hadn’t expected to. It wasn’t exactly Varric asking Hawke to come that caused the problem. It was Hawke declaring she was coming alone. 

Varric wasn’t entirely sure how that fight played out, although he knew it ended with Bethany sealing the lovers in separate rooms for a good long while. Hawke had her way, like she usually did, but Varric knew that wouldn’t last long either. The second Broody stopped brooding, he’d be off like a rocket on Hawke’s tail. It might take him a bit longer without Varric’s contacts smoothing the way, but Broody had experience smuggling himself out of and into places. He’d make it, eventually, Varric was certain.

“Should’ve just taken him with you.” It’s what Varric said the first time. And every time he’d spoken to Hawke since. 

Hawke gave varying reasons why he couldn’t come. The first, that Bethany needed him (patently false. Sunshine was perfectly capable of defending herself). The second, that he was just as much a fugitive as she was, clearly also false. 

“Bring him into a hotbed of Tevinter magic?” Hawke scoffed. “I’d never hear the end of it.” 

Another lie. Hawke wasn’t telling him something and she was hiding it from Broody too. That meant it was almost definitely going to bite them all in the ass. Eventually. Hopefully after they dealt with their Corypheus problem. 

“Any idea what your ETA is?” Varric asked. “Your trusty dwarf would very much like to get all the yelling and threats against my life done and over with.” 

“Depends on whether or not I can steal a car, how far that car can get me, and if I have to walk through snow up to my tits to get up there.” Hawke mused. “I’m in Jader now. Bet I can make it by tomorrow night.” 

“Take a nap.” He ordered. “Then you can start back up again.” 

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, Varric.” Hawke teased. 

For some reason those words sent an icy shiver of dread through him. They felt like a bad omen, and Varric wouldn’t count himself superstitious, but… 

“Be careful, at least.” Varric pleaded. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but we’d be lost without you.” 

“Varric!” He could see Hawke’s extravagant reaction in his mind, her fluttering hands, her mouth dropping into a startled, theatrical o. “I didn’t know you cared.” 

“Of course I care.” This was closer to honesty, to vulnerability, than either of them cared to go. But he’d called her here. Pulled her into danger again. His best friend, maybe the truest friend he’d ever had. If there was a time to be real, this moment with them standing on the edge of the end of the world was it. “I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.” 

Especially if she got hurt trying to save his ass. 

“It’s gonna be alright, Varric.” Hawke soothed immediately. “No need to get sentimental on me now. Besides, you need to save some of the good shit for my kickass memorial service, remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember.” He laughed weakly. “Pyrotechnics are already ordered, just like I promised.” 

“Excellent!” Hawke cheered. “Now, let’s see if I can remember how Fenris taught me to hotwire a car. See you soon, Varric.” 

The line clicked dead before he could get another word in. He huffed a laugh, shaking his head, staring out over the mountains. His head felt quieter already. Hawke was coming, fuck, maybe she’d know what to do about… 

“Cole told me I needed to find you.” Maria’s quiet voice was almost lost in the wind. “He said it was important.” 

Oh yeah, he knew the vanishing spirit kid was gonna be an issue. He spun, gluing on a smile, trying to replay the conversation. He hadn’t called Hawke by name, had he? Maker’s breath, how long had Maria been standing behind him, silent as a ghost, still as one of those statues of Andraste. Her eyes were unfathomable, the sky during a storm and she wore an expression Varric couldn’t quite read. It could have been anger, but it seemed to lack any heat. Maybe it was just weary resignation, a woman preparing for her eventual martyrdom.

Her eyes flicked to his earpiece and she jerked her chin at it. “Bianca?” 

Bianca. Hell, if she thought he was talking to his AI, he’d take it. And it was an excellent segway to the things he actually needed to talk to her about. 

“Nice to see you too, Princess.” He greeted, softening his smile into something more real. “Speaking of Bianca…”

Maria shut her eyes a second too long, opening them on a shaky exhale and plastering a wooden smile over her features before she interrupted him. “You seem fine. Cole thought you’d be jumping from the battlements, but I can see he was wrong.” 

Maker’s ass, Varric was going to have a talk with the kid. The last thing he needed the woman whose dad ate his gun worrying about was who’d be swandiving off the keep. Varric wasn’t that dramatic by a long shot. He grinned playfully. “It’s a long way down and we’ve got Netflix again, so I’m off the danger list.” 

“I can see now why you were so eager to get it up and running. I’m glad it worked.” Her facade was far too brittle, he felt like he’d shatter it with just the wrong word. She wasn’t even looking at him, but past him, into the abyss beyond. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. Listen, if you’re okay I’ve got to go. I’ve got a million things and…”

She impatiently shoved her hair back from her face. Varric watched, wary. “Maria…” 

“Varric.” She snapped. “It’s fine. It’s fine, everything is fine.” 

Cause anything that had to be said three times was clearly true. But Varric couldn’t think of the right words to say to fix… whatever had just gone sideways. He wished he was brave enough to take her hand, intertwine their fingers together, make her stay put until he got to the bottom of it. 

She knows grief. She understands how to carry it.

His tongue froze inside his mouth while he tried to find his words. But really, he only wanted to say one. Just one. Stay.

Instead, Maria’s false smile seared itself into place. “See ya, Varric.” 

And as he watched, Maria fled back into her castle, leaving him bereft. Again. 

xx

Varric: In case nobody told you yet today, you’re knocking this Inquisitor thing out of the park. Best inquisitoning I’ve ever seen. Princess: Wait until you see whatever just happened on TV later then decide my prowess. Varric: Let’s forget whatever happened on the walls. I didn’t mean to get you worked up. Varric: I watched your interview. You did great. Varric: Talk to me, Princess. Please. 

Varric stared, morosely, at his phone. He’d been assigned a tiny broom cupboard off the side of the courtyard by Josephine, although he swore it had been larger. Now it seemed to barely contain his desk, bed, and a dresser with enough room to walk from one to the other. It also, Varric thought snidely, had some sort of issue with the heat. His crackling fireplace looked quaint, but it served no functional purpose. His room constantly felt somewhere just above freezing. 

He tore his eyes from the accusing light of his phone, his unanswered messages, and looked back at his tablet. He forced himself to watch the whole interview twice, even though it felt like rubbing against sandpaper to see Maria’s mouth spin the story of their desperate fight for survival, their half-baked flight into the void. 

Her own near brush with death before she stumbled into his arms. She left out that part, the way he held her, the way she tried to fight him off before relenting. Maybe she forgot. Maybe she didn’t remember it at all.  

The last five minutes were easier to watch. He hit play again, watched the last of the clip begin to roll, Maria’s voice quietly spinning magic as she spoke to Harding. “I want Skyhold to be a safe place. Not just for the people who fled Haven, but for everyone. The world is in danger from magic we don’t understand and we have to work together to take care of people who can’t fight on their own.” 

“Before the attack on Haven, people were frightened of what the Inquisition represented. Do you think the purpose has changed?” Harding asked calmly. 

“The attack on Haven did change us.” Maria insisted, a flicker of fire in those stunning eyes. “It changed everything. The Inquisition will unite Thedas around a common goal, protecting our people. Not just from Corypheus, but from the worst parts of these wars. Starvation, homelessness, and disease can kill as many people as a dragon. We have to be ready for that too. The Inquisition will serve everyone who needs us. Regardless of what they believe.” 

Maker, she was good. But the best part was what happened next. Whoever made the decision to leave it in was a genius. Her whole interview she’d been calm, although at times her eyes gleamed with both fury and unshed tears. There’d been no trace of nerves, Harding gently soothing them away as she was being interviewed. 

“Thanks Inquisitor.” Harding said, easily casual, falling back into reality. 

Maria’s eyes flicked directly to the camera, then back to Harding. A slow, small, triumphant smile tipped up one side of her lips, her eyes still glimmering with emotion. She looked heart wrenchingly vulnerable, easy to adore, and at the same time recklessly, amazingly brave. 

“Thanks Harding.” Maria breathed, shoulders relaxing, just before the image cut away to Ruffles. 

Judging by what he’d seen of the coverage, it was nothing short of a rousing success. A near miss that made their Herald a hero, made her an Inquisitor with just enough blazing courage to delight the masses. 

Varric hit stop on the video again, spared a chagrined glance at his phone. His own messages lingered pathetically. 

Bianca.

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know. Nobody knew. 

Except, of course, that probably wasn’t technically true. Somebody in Rogue Tech, Bianca’s secretary at least, had to have some idea. Hawke knew, although she was very good at pretending she didn’t know anything. What's-his-name might know. Varric didn’t care that much, but he might. 

How good was Nightingale? Good enough to ferret out his darkest secret? 

But even if Nightingale discovered their sordid affair, it’d been cooling for years. Fuck, he hadn’t even seen Bianca for at least a year. Kirkwall going to shit really ruined any furtive liaisons. Nightingale did know about Bianca’s digging in Maria’s past, of course. Was that enough for both women to draw their own conclusions?

Varric ran through his phone call with Hawke, again, listening with an outside ear. 

Of course I care. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.

He could have been talking to anyone, but she’d thought he’d been talking to Bianca. Maybe the real Bianca. If she’d heard what he’d said. If…

She heard. She definitely heard. That’s why she thought he’d been working on the communications so hard, to contact a lover. After, of course, attempting to seduce her in Haven. No wonder she wasn’t answering, no woman would. Even if she didn’t care about him, even if she’d rather keep him as a friend, the thought that he’d been lying or using her… 

His journal was open beside his phone, lines scrawled unsteadily on a blank page, the Lovers tucked in between the pages.

I never tasted the stars before your kiss Never relished the flavor of the universe imploding But now I’m watching from the center of the flames Awash in the uncertainty of oblivion Wondering if this is what it feels like to burn.

Fuck. Fuck.

It was getting late, but not so late that she wouldn’t still be awake. Varric needed to fix this, the longer it festered, the worse it would get. He’d already waited over a day and… 

He stood, knocking his chair back into the bed, grabbing his coat from where he’d thrown it on the comforter. 

Thank Andraste he did 

The trickle of dust from the ceiling was barely visible in the dim light of his shoddy lamp and inefficient fire, he barely had time to recognize it for what it was before the stone above him cracked open, dumping plaster and stone and one sputtering, irritated woman on his bed.

He blinked, shocked, down at Hawke’s sprawled form. She squawked, sitting up, coat askew, backpack slung half off, covered in snow and rubble. 

“Maker’s balls, Varric.” Hawke asked, inquisitive blue eyes skipping around his room, a teasing smirk twisting her lips. “Why did they stick you in a closet?” 

He didn’t bother answering. He pointed up at the rapidly closing hole above his head. “Explanation, Hawke?” 

“I was a bit lost. Maybe it’s the castle’s idea of a shortcut? You weren’t kidding about it being a bit of a diva, hm?” Hawke stretched, examining his repaired ceiling with a good deal of curiousity. “I like it when impressive medieval fortresses come with attitudes.” 

“Why didn’t you text me?” Varric demanded, exasperated. 

Hawke simply grinned, sitting up in the mess that had been his bed, extending her arms. “I wanted to surprise you! And look, I did!” 

She certainly had. And, as always, her timing was horrid. Varric chanced a glance back at his phone. The second he did, he watched Hawke’s sunny smile drop from the corner of his eye. Without her mask, Varric realized how fucking exhausted she looked, how brittle her own bravado was. 

“Varric?” She asked softly. 

“It’s fine. Let’s see if we can clean off the bed. You look like you’re running on empty. We can wait until tomorrow to…” Varric thought it would be excellent if the castle decided to clean it’s own mess up, but somehow he doubted that would happen. 

“I’m fine.” Hawke protested immediately. “I’m good to go, I swear. And I wanna meet her.” 

Her. Her. The inspiration for his latest shitty attempts at poetry. The woman he couldn’t get out of his head because she’d gotten under his skin. 

“Tomorrow.” Varric promised. “When’s the last time you ate? Real food, not candy bars and coffee.” 

“Varric.” Hawke repeated. And in that moment, he knew she’d seen. Somehow, he’d let his guard down long enough that she’d managed to glimpse his battered, broken soul. His insecurity and his vulnerabilities all laid bare. “What happened?” 

“Food first.” Varric muttered, tugging his coat on. “And fucking beer if I can find it. I’m gonna need it if you’re expecting to hear how badly I’ve fucked this one up.”

[frekydeki]

Stuck on You

A/n: I’m not sure why the entire text deleted, so I had to entirely rewrite it (Sorry), but... I’m writing this for @ibwhellospring‘s Hello Spring Writing Event. When I first wrote it I didn’t intend for it to turn out so angsty, and I bet it’ll be even more so this time around.

Prompt: Reencounter after three years

Pairing: (Bucky X reader)

What’s it been? Two - no, three - years since he left. Its your bittersweet anniversary. Tonight’s the night that you get to remember not how he fell down onto one knee and professed his love to you, but how he left you alone. Alone to face what he always promised so easily he’d hold your hand through. The pale green walls of your lonely apartment feel like they’re shrinking in on you as you take another bitter swig from the bottle clenched in your hand. This is your ritual, this is how you repay him; sitting in the ghost of your once shared apartment, kicking yourself over past failures, crying pitifully over something you couldn’t control.

“Let’s go back to Brooklyn after this. I’ve been craving some burgers from the diner that used to be down the road from my house.” He offered a smile to you as he finished zipping up his bag and threw it over his shoulder. You nodded to him, trying to keep that pitiful look in your eye at bay, but those tears in your eyes had no where else to go but out. He let out a heavy sigh and walked to embrace you, his metal hand was so gentle on the back of your neck. A sob tumbled from you as you brought your hands to clench onto the thin fabric of his gray shirt. “It’s okay Y/n.” He whispered, his breath fanning out over your hair before he pulled you back to place a warm kiss on your forehead. 

“Promise me you’ll come back.” You demanded. He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, those blue eyes scanned every inch of your face with a soft warmth to his expression.

“I promise.”

He’s a fucking liar.

You flatten your tongue against the roof of your mouth as you slam the half empty bottle onto the beaten up coffee table in front of you. You shouldn’t be doing this, you know it. Bucky always told you to get into the box he left you in the closet on the top shelf if this should ever happen. But you’re more than terrified to do it, because when that box opens you feel like it’ll be your final good-bye to him. You bend over and cradle your head between your knees.

Crying from the next room over snaps your head up and your mind back into reality. The clocks hour hand rests on three; its dark and early and little james has always been punctual. Pushing yourself up, despite the nausea rolling in your stomach, you march down the hallways and paint a warm expression on with each step. Outside the doorway you take a deep breath, preparing to meet the blue eyes that you love so dearly but manage to haunt you with each gaze. You push it open lightly flicking on the light and smiling warmly to the blotchy face doing its best to stare at you through the tears. 

“Hey sweetie.” You say barely above a whisper. You walk to sit on the foot of the teary-eyed boy’s bed. You raise your hand to wipe the tears soaking his cheeks away while he takes to roughly rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. “Did you have another nightmare?” You question lightly, his brown hair shining in the yellow light of his iron man night light as he nods. You push out a heavy breath and open your arms wide to him, flicking your head while saying, “Come here.” He quickly crawls into your embrace, his small body is warm and trembling. You let out a long breath through your nose and kiss the top of his head while rubbing gentle circles on his back; just as you did when Bucky had one of his rare nightmares. You wait for his sobs to pacify before you pull away and raise an eyebrow at him.

“You want to tell mommy what it was about?”

“It was about dad.” He whispers. You hate that your son is plagued so often by a man he’s never met... Why it happens, you’re not sure, but it always brings a burning acidity to your entire gut. “I’ll never meet him will I?” Another strong breath falls from you as you begin to shake your head; you can barely meet your sons eye.

“Steve?” You questioned the man who’s broad shoulders are unusually slouched. You scanned all of those walking behind him, but still didn’t find your boyfriend marching off as he promised he would. You stopped looking over the heroes shoulders when he stood in front of you and let out a few trembling breaths. Turning your own eyes up, you met the most heart breaking expression to ever cross your friends eyes. You looked to Natasha, trying to see if she’d provide more answers then your looming friend, but her plump limps only turned into a thin line and she walked away. You pushed your eyes back to the blonde. “Steve.” You demanded he tells you the words lingering on the tip of his tongue. He clenched his jaw and shuffled on his feet, unable to meet you eyes again. His strong hands clenched down on your shoulders, steadying your trembling body. You knew the words that were about to come out of Steve’s mouth. You knew what he was going to say. Your heart was flipping in your chest like a fish, and you were hoping for absolutely anything to stop it. 

“I’m sorry Y/n.” His quivering lip broke your heart even more gravely. His head fell as you put your trembling hand to his cheek and lifted his eyes back to your own. 

“Steve, is Bucky...” You stopped as you remembered all of those people turning up into dust and drifting away while simply walking down the street. “Did he...” Did that happen to him too? Steve nodded, and the sob that wrecked through you matched your friends own. You fell into his chest, ignoring how he smelled like blood and sweat, and instead slurred incoherent lines into his chest. You couldn’t get it out of your mind. The thought that your baby was never going to meet his father. The fact that you would face it all alone, the fact that your son could never hear how lovely his father sounded when he laughed, or feel the warmth of his embrace, or know how horrible his pancakes tasted. Your head was throbbing with all of those realizations.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him Y/n.” You knew it wasn’t Steve’s fault, you knew it, and you tightened your hands around him to tell him that. 

“He won’t ever been able to meet his baby.” You cried. “I never even got to tell him.” Your friend pushed you back and stared with slack brows and a quivering lip.

“Y/n?” You nodded, almost feeling light headed. Steve ran his hand through your hair and pushed you back to his chest, his hand firm at the base of your neck as he promised you and himself, “I’ll bring him back, Y/n. I promise.”

“I’m sorry baby. But you won’t be able to meet daddy for a very long time.” You whispered. You allowed Steve to make you that promise, but you’ve never believed it. You lift James up and carry him through the hall and to your bedroom.

“I’m sorry you’re so sad all the time. Daddy could make you feel better, couldn’t he?” Yeah, he could. Looking down, your quaking heart stills looking into the crystal blue eyes. You pulled down the small wooden box and gave it to your son.

“It’s about time mommy says bye to your daddy, huh?” James freezes as he turns his eyes up to your own. He nodded and popped open the box, revealing stacks of paper, a weird black disk, and a small box. Hand on top of the sweet boys hand, you guide the box shut, and offer to get him something to drink. You sit him in the living room and pour a small glass of juice. You sit down next to him and wrap him under your arm, opening the box and staring at the contents with slack brows. Turning over the black disk in your hand, you mumble to yourself, 

“What the hell is this?” Bucky would’ve had to show you how to use this stupid gadget... Just like everything else he had displayed out on the bed the night before he went on missions. You smile fondly at the memory, poking at it, but no dice. You opt to call Steve and tell him the news of your decision to finally open the box.

“I’m so glad for you Y/n. I’m glad you’re ready to move on. For yourself and for James. I’m sure it’s what Bucky would want.” You let a scowl march over your soft features as you turn over your shoulder to check on your tiring son.

“Yeah, yeah. Can you tell me what the hell this thing is?”

“You still use such foul language around your son. You know he’s a sponge with language right now right?” Another growl leaves you.

“Get on with it Rogers.” Your friend laughs.

“There’s a small button on the top of it, just sit it on the table and press that button.” You smile.

“Thanks Steve! You’ll still be over tomorrow for James’ baseball game right?” 

“Sure thing pal!”

“Night Steve. Thank you, again.” Ending the call, you slide onto the couch next to your half asleep son. You press the button on the disk, jumping and gasping as a projection appears in front of you. Your tongue swells in your throat.

“Bucky.” You whine, examining the angle of his jaw, the stubble on his chin, and the blue of his eyes. 

“Is that daddy?” James slurs. The only response you can manage is a smile and a slight nod. Your son leans up against you and watches as Bucky sits down on nothing.

“Hi baby.” His voice swims around, strangling you with the realization of how much you missed him at the sound of his baritone voice. “I guess since you’re watching this, I’ve gone and done everything I promised I wouldn’t do.” He forces a weak smile before his head falls, and his adams apple bobs as he swallows. His eyes are squinted as he brings them back up, “I’m sorry.” He blurts, his voice cracking slightly. “This, it’s the last thing I ever want to do to you. I never want to leave you. I want to spend the rest of my days waking up to you, someday have kids with you. I’m sorry I can’t give that to you anymore.” Your arm tightens around your sons limp body. His hands tighten around themselves as his blue eyes are blurred by tears. “I love you, Y/n. With every breath I breathe, I love you. You’ve made this,” His voice cracks - he’d never shown such emotion in front of you, you can only assume you were at work when he recorded this - “You’ve made me so damn happy. Something I never thought possible. And I’m so sorry I had to leave before I could return the favor.”

“I know you’ve probably waited a long time to open this. And you’ve probably not even considered moving on. But I want you to.” He looks so pained over saying that, “I want you to have a shot at having this happiness that you’ve given me. And since I obviously can give that to you anymore,” He runs his hands through his hair and rubs his eyes, “I want you to find someone who can.” You probably never can, if you’re honest with yourself. “I love you so, so much Y/n. Please, try to be happy for me. Please. For me, Y/n.”

Like that, he’s gone. You stare at where he just was, eyes running over with tears and throat clogged with pain. God you miss him. Your heart feel like its falling out of your chest. Your sleeping son snuggles farther into your chest, and you lean back slowly. Even if Bucky insisted that you move on... You can’t. You can’t just think about having someone other than Bucky hold you. You think, perhaps... Maybe... You’re going to be stuck on Bucky for the rest of your life. You kiss the top of your sons head, listening to his steady snoring as you slowly drift off to sleep on that couch as well.

You think you’re okay with it only ever being Bucky.

[yeolsmuffin]

Rewriting the Past - Eight [m]

Pairing: ReaderxBaekhyun

Word count: 3.1k

Summary: Baekhyun was your first love when you were sixteen. It was passionate, hot, and messy. But all of that ended six years ago, after a four-year battle for your relationship. Now, you’re twenty-six years old and still reeling from the relationship when suddenly, Baekhyun shows up on your doorstep.

Notes: This chapter is mature and contains smut(and probably not the best-written smut at that, I tried guyssss).

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight 

“Baekhyun isn’t in there,” Yixing said, his voice wavering.

“What do you mean?” Jongdae asked.

“He isn’t in the room!” Yixing yelled.

“Did you check the bathroom?” Chanyeol asked.

“His bedroom window was open.”

Those words chilled each boy to their core. They frantically searched Chanyeol’s too large house for Baekhyun with no luck. None of them wanted to admit it, but they were afraid of what Baekhyun could be doing to himself if he left without a word and his phone wasn’t on. They were worried that he would do something stupid before the truth could be let out.

If Baekhyun did something stupid, Jongin would have more than a busted lip and all of the boys knew it.

Your head was pounding when you woke up but this morning, it didn’t bother you. You snuggled further into what you thought was your pillow, but instead, it was the slightly sweaty torso of Baekhyun. With a shake of your head, you wiped your eyes and looked up at his face. He appeared to be sleeping soundlessly. Now, all the events of the night were coming back to you. Once again, you had been drinking yourself into despair when you texted Baekhyun to come over. You weren’t surprised because maybe it wasn’t the case with everyone, but for you, your drunken heart spoke your sober thoughts.

It was becoming a struggle to still hold a mistake that happened six years over him when he looked at you like you were the most important thing in the world. The bags under his eyes, his hollow cheeks, and his pale face all told you that he hadn’t been doing so well, just like you.

The idea of pushing Baekhyun back out of your life when he showed up, seemed so easy – but it wasn’t. You were always the person to say ‘Never take a cheater back”, but yet here you were. Baekhyun now didn’t look like a cheater and it felt unfair to give him that label. Yes, he had cheated but looking at his face, wasn’t the face of a cheater. His face was one you had once loved – and well still did. While you were in a fury years ago when the incident had happened, the only thing you were mad about now was feeling like you needed to push him away. You wanted Baekhyun so bad that it hurt.

Going through a flip-flop of emotions the way you had been for the past few days was getting exhausting and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Baekhyun’s presence in your bed was making everything feel stable and okay. You weren’t sure when you had last felt okay.

“What are you looking at?” Baekhyun opened his eyes one at a time with a soft smile that melted you.

You couldn’t help but smile back up to him.

“You look happy this morning,” he sighed with relief and ran his fingers down your back. “Happy is a good look on you.”

Looking at him through the tops of your lashes, you squeezed him from where your arms were wrapped around his waist, “I would say you look happy, but you look exhausted.”

“I’m both. Just skeptical. I don’t know how long I will get this,” he said, his tone laced with despair.

“I was thinking before you opened your eyes…”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t look like a cheater to me, ya know? I’ve identified you as one for so long but seeing you now, I know that’s not who you are. I think I finally realize that you didn’t mean to… although, in my drunken states, I never cheated on you. That’s not the point though. I don’t associate you as a cheater anymore. Just someone who made a bad choice.”

Baekhyun let out a slow breath, “I will never be able to make that up to you, and I know that but I hope you’ll open your heart to let me try, Y/N. I love you and I always have. The past ten years of my life, you’ve been the only one for me.”

“I wasn’t happy when I was married,” you admitted. “I would cry over you in the late nights and he just never compared to you. He didn’t love me for me and I definitely didn’t love him. I think I was just trying to make this family for myself to prove that I didn’t need you… but it didn’t work… and I’m glad it didn’t.”

“I never got married,” he teased, “but I tried a few relationships. Of course, nobody compared to how I still felt about you. The guys told me that it would take time for me to move on, get over you and what happened, but I never did. Some people would say that you couldn’t love someone for that long without seeing them, but I did. I loved you when the guys refused to tell me how you were doing. I loved you even when I couldn’t see your face. I loved you when all I had to look at were pictures from high school and imagining how you looked now. Nothing in my imagination was as perfect as you in person, though.”

Baekhyun gently kissed the top of your head and you tried pushing yourself closer to him. “Could you imagine how things would have gone if we never broke up?”

He bit his lip as you looked up at him, “I would imagine it to be just like this. Waking up with you in my arms. I imagine we would have been married for a few years, had the boys basically in and out of our house and that we might even have a child or two by now,” Baekhyun’s eyes were sad as he talked. “Everything would have worked out just fine. All of our worries and insecurities when we were younger would be just faint memories.”

“We’ve lost so much time now.”

“I know, but if you give me another chance, I promise I will make it all up to you,” Baekhyun assured.

“Let’s take it slow, Baek. I think it’s best just to see where we go naturally instead of me laying it out on the table in front of you. I’ve accepted I can’t live without you so I don’t want you going anywhere anytime soon.”

He nodded, “We do this your way. Whatever you want and however you want. I just want you however you’re willing to let me.” You watched as his face went serious, “There was something I promised you last night and it doesn’t agree with going slow, but if you still want it, the offer stands.”

You face instantly flushed as you hadn’t wanted to get around to that. You knew you had asked Baekhyun for sex while you were drunk and you were embarrassed by it. Not because you didn’t want it, but because you didn’t know what Baekhyun would think of such a bold move. How could you go from pushing him out of your life a few days ago, to wanting him to have sex with you? Well, that’s just how you assumed true love was because after all, Baekhyun would always be your one true love, no matter what.

Would it be okay to go this far with him right now? Would it make things worse or were they already worse? All you knew was that even in your sober state, it was what you wanted and you thought maybe it could clarify some things for you. Sex wasn’t everything, but it was a good way of getting a gauge on your true feelings for someone. You knew what it was like to have sex with someone you didn’t love versus someone you did and you thought maybe sex would have the answers to this whole messy situation.

“Y/N. If you don’t want it, say the words. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want,” Baekhyun reminded you.

“What do you think?” You asked Baekhyun.

He smiled a crooked smile, “I see you’re still the little over-thinker you used to be,” he continued to rub your back, “I think two things. Either sex will make everything more clear to you, or it will make everything messier. It’s up to you if you want to take that risk.”

You laughed for a moment, making Baekhyun look at you strangely, “It’s just funny. We’ve never had such a discussion over sex before. In the past... we just did it,” Baekhyun laughed with you and nodded.

“Now we’re adults and with everything that has happened, I think it’s smarter to talk out our choices before we make ones we may not like.”

You nodded, “I say fuck it.”

He quirked an eyebrow up, “What?”

“I don’t want to mull over it anymore. I just need you Baekhyun.”

He hesitated, “Are you sure?”

With a groan, you nodded again, “Baek,” you whined.

His eyes were heavy as he looked down at you, “Okay,” he whispered.

In a blink of an eye, Baekhyun pulled himself on top of you and stared down at you with his shining eyes. The way he was looking at you know, made you want to melt right into his arms and never let him leave. He looked at you just as he had many years ago but of course now with more fever.

“I just want to say,” Baekhyun dipped his head now so his lips were near your ear, “I love you so much.”

He slowly pressed his lips to the space beneath your ear and worked his way down your neck.

“I love you, too, Baekhyun.”

He smirked into the kisses he planted on your neck, “My favorite words to hear.”

When the two of you were younger, your sex life was great and passionate, but in your later years together, you didn’t have much gentle sex – so seeing this side of Baekhyun, was new and refreshing.

Baekhyun used one arm to prop himself above you and with the other, he held your cheek. It seemed like forever before he moved his lips from your collar bone and neck and pressed them to your lips. But when he finally did, you felt like you had exploded. The sparks that people always talked about feeling in cheesy movies and novels? Well, you officially felt them.

Just like when you had kissed him a few days ago, his lips felt warm and molded perfectly with yours. He didn’t kiss you urgently but as if he had all the time in the world as he cupped your cheek. You had already started to grow dizzy as he slowly ran his tongue across your lips. You eagerly allowed him access to your mouth as your tongues gently rubbed against each other.

A moan escaped your lips and you could feel Baekhyun smile as he kissed you.

Baekhyun moved his hand from your cheek and slowly down the side of your body, making you shiver as he did so. He brushed his hand gently over your bare leg and down to your core. You knew you had already started to get wet just at the thought of Baekhyun and you blushed when his eyes widened when his hand brushed over your shorts. He noticed you blushing and he smiled, “Don’t be embarrassed, my love. I love it.” He said quietly as he rubbed you through your shorts before working his hand under the waistband of them and past your underwear.

You hissed when his bare hand caressed you. You could feel how wet you were as he dipped his finger inside you for a moment before rubbing your juices on your clit. He rubbed you slowly at first, earning moans from you as he licked his lips. But Baekhyun didn’t forget how you liked it as he quickly picked up his pace and rubbed your clit more fiercely, making you a moaning and whining mess.

“I missed you too,” he said teasing you with a toothy smile.

He stopped touching you and moved so he could pull your shorts and underwear off. You noticed that he stared at your naked lower half for several moments before moving himself back between your legs and pressing two fingers back inside you without warning.

“Baekhyun,” you moaned loudly as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, curving them up in the slightest to hit all your favorite spots.

Baekhyun fingered you until his hand was practically drenched in your wetness and you were close. You didn’t have to say a word as Baekhyun remembered all the quirks of your body as he picked up his speed and gripped your hip with his free hand.

“Come on, Y/N, cum for me. Cum for me, my love.”

You arched your back up as Baekhyun brought you to your climax. You couldn’t help but scream out his name as you did and that just made him more confident. He let you ride out your orgasm as he fingered you slowly before stopping and kissing you gently. “You are just as beautiful as you have always been when you cry out my name. Maybe even more beautiful now,” he winked at you and he pulled you to sit up so he could undress you the rest of the way.

Body trembling, you let Baekhyun hold you up as he pulled your shirt over your head and he unsnapped your bra, throwing them both across the room. Baekhyun gently pushed you back down and removed his own clothing. Your eyes locked onto his muscular chest on their own. When you guys had been younger he had been slim and slightly built, but now he was even more so. His abdomen was stretched with more definition and veins than he had in the past. The sight was something that you didn’t want to forget anytime soon.

Once his pants were off, your eyes snapped down to his member which was rock hard. You couldn’t help but lick your lips as you were aroused just by the sight of his arousal.

Baekhyun smirked at you, with a raised eyebrow but he said nothing as he pulled his pants off completely and made his way back between your legs.

For several moments, he did nothing but just stare at you and gently rub himself. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

He shook his head, “Absolutely nothing, I’m just appreciating your body the way you were appreciating mine. It’s been six long years and this is a sight I don’t want to forget for a long time.”

Pulling your hips down closer to him, Baekhyun began rubbing himself across your slit in an agonizingly slow pace.

“Baekhyunnn,” you whined out. “Stop being a tease.”

With a smirk, he pushed himself into you and you snapped your eyes shut. “Better?” he asked as you moaned out. The feeling of him being inside you and filling you up was one of the best feelings you had felt in a while.

There was no denying that your body felt as though it shaped perfectly around Baekhyun. Sex with him was different than with anyone else. You felt as if you were in heaven, every thrust was sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

Baekhyun seemed to be reacting the same way as you could hear his familiar quiet moans that you loved so much. The same moans you had tried to picture when you had slept with your ex-husband in a desperate attempt to make yourself enjoy sex with him more. You didn’t have to try hard with Baekhyun, he just made everything feel good with almost no effort.

“You feel amazing, my love. Nothing about your body has changed a bit,” he moaned out as he picked up his pace and began to thrust faster. You gripped his shoulders roughly, digging your nails into his soft skin so hard you thought it would have hurt him but he seemed unaffected as he kept his fast pace.

You were a whimpering mess underneath him but you didn’t care. You couldn’t feel all too shy with Baekhyun because he had seen it all before. You guys had four long years to experience each other and there wasn’t anything to be bashful about anymore. Even though you guys had done it all before, this had felt new all over again in a way. Sure, you didn’t go six years without sex but… you did go six years without sex with someone you love and you forgot how intense it was.

Of course, it didn’t take him long to get you to another orgasm. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gripped onto him as you hit your peak for the second time, clenching tightly around Baekhyun’s member and making him moan louder in the process.

Baekhyun came inside you as you rode out your orgasm and you could feel the warmth of his cum coating your walls.

Both of you were a panting mess as Baekhyun fell down on top of you and pressed his face into your neck as you felt him smile against your skin. After a few moments of silence, Baekhyun pulled his softening member out of you and laid next to you and pulled you into his arms.

“So which of the two is it?” He asked, breathlessly.

You smiled into his sweaty chest that your face was pressed against, “What are you talking about?”

“Are you more confused or is everything clear now?” His tone was worried as he ran his fingers through your slightly damp with sweat and matted hair.

It wasn’t a matter of it sex was good or not because it was good – but, that wasn’t a factor. What was important was your emotions. Things were still cloudy inside the depths of your head. You weren’t sure how you guys could fit back into each other’s lives again, you weren’t sure how those around you would feel about the two of you, and you weren’t sure what could happen – but you were sure of a few things.

You were sure Baekhyun was the only one for you.

You were sure that you loved him. You loved him so much that it had your heart beating wildly against your chest.

And you were sure that you wanted to be with Baekhyun.

You couldn’t keep stressing your mind over how you could be with Baekhyun. because love wasn’t a matter if you could live with someone or not, it was a matter of if you could live without them.

It was certain to you now that you couldn’t live without him.

“Don’t leave me, Baekhyun,” was all you said.

Baekhyun sighed with relief as he held you tighter against him.

Nothing would be easy when it came to the two of you, but you knew that love was worth it. Although, if there was one thing that was easy, it would be loving Baekhyun.

--->nine<---

masterlist

a/n: only two parts to go! I’m thankful for all your constant support and I hope you guys are enjoying!

[nozoroomie]

BQ OR B Chapter 4: Potato Chips

Chapter 4 is here! thanks for being patient guys! There’s two more parts left, and the next one might be a bit late because I have yet to edit it and part of it still needs to be finished, but I’ll do my best!

Just like how last chapter was NicoEli focused, this one has a bit more NozoNico than NozoNicoEli. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway c’:

[A03]

The sound of potato chips crunch as Nico munches on them disgruntledly. She stares at the textbook in front of her and rereads the same passage she’s been focused on for the last five minutes. She wipes the crumbs off her fingers and groans, putting her face down into her book.

“Having trouble?” Nozomi asks with mild amusement as she writes in the notebook in front of her.

“Yes” Comes the muffled reply. Nico brings her face up and looks at the girl studying across from her. “I should never have taken this course. Why is this much English knowledge required?! It’s not like I’m aiming to work internationally!”

“It’s a mystery, Nicocchi.” Nozomi answers cryptically and Nico groans.

“I don’t want to study anymore. I can’t even retain this information, I’ve read the same paragraph like ten times now and all I know is Hibiki walks a dog at the beginning of it and then the rest is lost on me.”

“Sounds like you need a small break.” Nozomi decides, pushing her books to the side and stretching. “I think I could use one too, my wrist is getting sore from rewriting my notes from the lecture.” Nico looks at Nozomi with a quirked eyebrow and she continues, “My writing can get pretty sloppy when I’m following along with the teacher, so I rewrite them so they’re legible later on. Plus, it helps give you reminders of the things you’ve learnt that day too.”

‘That’s not a bad idea..’ Nico thinks.

She watches as Nozomi stands up, excusing herself to go to the bathroom quickly. Nico keeps her head on the table and frowns thinking about the amount of English work she still has. She sighs and reaches around carefully, her hand searching for something else on the table. She passes the open chip bag and soon finds it- a half full glass. Carefully, she picks it up and sits herself up, taking a big sip of the peach juice as her eyes glaze over her own notes.

‘Guess I could go over the notes I made instead, maybe that’ll help motivate me to finish this stupid textbook reading.’

She puts her glass down and grabs her pencil, grabbing her notebook and skipping back a couple pages to the start of the day’s notes. She rests her chin on her hand as she lazily rereads her writing and scans it for important details of the day’s lesson. She yawns a bit, already bored of the idea, but studying is important. There’s no way she’ll graduate without doing it.

After a few minutes, Nico realizes Nozomi has yet to come back from the bathroom. She frowns, hating that it distracts her so much from her work. She glances around to see if she’s anywhere near the dining room and finds nothing. She pushes herself out of the chair and moves out to the living room, calling out for Nozomi.

“Oi! Nozomi! Are you coming back?”

She stops once she enters the living room, finding Nozomi staring at the wall behind the couch with a large frown. Her arms are crossed and she tilts her head a little. Nico walks over to her, following her gaze to the wall with a confused stare. She doesn’t ask why Nozomi’s doing what she is- there’s always some weird answer to her out of the ordinary actions.

“Do you feel like there’s something missing from here?” Nozomi asks her, still keeping her eyes on the wall.

Finally understanding what she’s doing, Nico tries to search for something out of place. There’s various different photos hung up on it- Nozomi’s pictures from their u’s performances, a couple different photos of Nozomi and Eli together, as well as scattered photos of her and Eli and her and Nozomi. There’s a couple of Eli’s photos from her ballet days and a picture of her and Alisa and of course there’s Nico’s photos of her with the first years, her siblings, her mom.  Her eyes scan them all trying to find anything off about the display, and then it finally hits her. There’s a ton of photos with them, but none with just the three of them together.

“We don’t have any of the three of us up there,” Nico frowns, “Where’s the picture you have of the three of us at graduation?”

“I like to keep that one on my bedside table.” Nozomi answers, her frown matching Nico’s. “But you’re right. That’s exactly what’s missing.”

“Look, there’s a perfect space right above the couch for another picture too.” Nico points to a bare spot. “Can we fix this now? You’ve got lots of pictures of us together, right?”

Nozomi perks up at the idea and smiles.

“Let’s go check!” She says, heading to her room. Nico follows not far behind her, following her into her shared bedroom with Eli.

Nico takes a good look around the room and finds the graduation photo exactly where Nozomi said she placed it. She smiles a little as she looks at it while Nozomi digs through a bag near the closet. She picks up the frame and looks at the picture. Eli’s excited happy smile, Nozomi’s laughter, and then her. She remembers not being ready for the photo and how Rin got excited being asked to take it.  She can’t recall how she tripped, but she remembers Nozomi catching her and the three of them laughing when they saw the result photo. It’s one of her favourite memories from that day.

Her gaze lingers on her roommates in the photo. Eli’s genuine happiness and excitement, Nozomi’s small wink and the pure bliss on her face. Nico tries to wonder if anything about graduation would have been different had they all been friends together from their very first year. How closer would they have been? Would Nozomi and Eli have become idols with her if they were friends right from day one? It’s something she’s always wondered, but she tries not to think about often. The idea of “what could have been” distracts her from the now, and she’s a lot happier where she is now with the two of them.

“Here we go!” Nozomi says, bringing her camera out. Nico quickly puts the photo down and looks over to her.

“Great! Let’s see what you got!”

They huddle closer together as Nozomi begins to scan through the photos. They pass a few really ridiculous ones from when they were setting up the apartment. Nozomi’s wearing Eli’s bandana in a way where it gives her a ridiculously looking bright blue moustache, while Nico had stolen Nozomi’s bandana and covered her face like a delinquent. Nico almost laughs out loud. They were having way too much fun with it. They pass by a few photos of Nozomi and Eli  from their first date together after moving in. Nico can’t miss the tender loving gaze Eli gives Nozomi in one of the pictures while Nozomi stares at the camera. What a love sick dork.

Nozomi stops scanning the moment she reaches the very first photo taken in the apartment. It’s the picture from their first night. Nico can see her half eaten slice of pizza still in her hands.

“Oh my god, I forgot you took this.” she says, staring at the photo and laughing. “It still looks really good. I don’t know how you can take selfies so well with this camera.”

“Lot’s of practice!” Nozomi laughs and stares at the photo. “This is it. This is one we need to put on the wall.”

They stare at the camera’s screen for a short moment. Nico begins to mentally count the change she has in her wallet, wondering if she has enough to get the photo printed. Nozomi puts the camera on the bed and begins to use her fingers to count, telling Nico she might be doing the exact same thing.

“How much do you have?” Nico asks.

“Excluding grocery funds, I’ve got about 3000 yen I think. Until next Friday anyway.” She replies. “And you?”

“I have 2500. That should be more than enough to print the photo and find a cheap frame, right?”

Nozomi grins brightly and goes back to her camera, pulling out it’s sd card and looking at Nico with sparkling eyes.

“Let’s skip studying and go print this photo while we can.”

Nozomi doesn’t have to say it twice and Nico dashes out of their room and back to the dining room. She grabs her phone and closes up her books before heading to the front door and kicking off her slippers. Nozomi isn’t far behind her, slinging her purse across her shoulder and grabbing her phone. She shoots Eli a quick text telling her that she and Nico stepped out and will be back as soon as possible in case she comes home from work without them there. By the time she’s done, Nico’s waiting with her shoes on and her own purse in hand.

The two of them exit the apartment excitedly and head towards the store with the photo printing booth. While Nozomi gets to printing it, Nico browses the store for a decent frame. There’s very few options. There’s a plain plastic one, a nice solid black frame or the frame meant for a photo with a pet- with little paw prints lining the frame and a couple of dog bones and fish. She examines each frame carefully and learns that out of the three options they have, only the pet themed picture frame can be hung landscape wise. The other two only offer little hanging hooks for the portrait side. Nico stares at the frame for a short moment and turns to Nozomi, who puts the now printed photo into a safe photo pamphlet.

“Nozomi. There’s only one frame that will work for it.” She holds up the decorative frame and Nozomi looks at it before laughing.

“Really? But we have no pets in our photo,” she pauses for a moment and laughs some more, “Well, Elichi can be very much like a puppy sometimes. And you have your moments where you’re pretty catlike.”

Nico’s lips twitch and Nozomi laughs more.

“You’re one to talk!” Nico jabs, “You’re like the fluffy lazy house cat who always finds a way to charm herself out of trouble.”

“Ah… So I’m the perfect house cat then~?” Nozomi teases and Nico sighs.

“I don’t know why I even made the comparison.” She says aloud as Nozomi laughs.

“Really though, if you don’t want the pet frame we can always make a hook for one of the other frames. It shouldn’t be too hard.” Nozomi reasons.

“Good point. I guess the black one would be nice.” Nico decides, then gazes at the prices of each frame. Her eyes widen when she see’s the price for the frame she likes most “Oh my god, this much for a small frame?! What the hell?!”

“Hm. I’m not entirely willing to pay that much either.” Nozomi glances at the price for the plastic frame, “and this one’s just poor quality. It isn’t worth the price you have to pay for it.”

Begrudgingly, Nico takes a look at the price sticker on the pet themed picture frame. Covering the first sticking is a reduced price, almost to half of what the first picture frame was. Nico wonders if they absolutely need to have the picture frame now, but she knows that the moment they reach the apartment, they’re going to want to hang the photo up right away. She sighs and pushes the frame towards Nozomi.

Nozomi’s stifling her giggles throughout the whole time Nico’s at the cash register buying the frame.

When they arrive back home, Eli’s there and welcoming them with a tired smile. Nozomi leans in and plants a small kiss on her lips, which Eli lightly returns. Nico places her feet in her slippers and makes her way to the living room, missing how Eli glances away from Nozomi and the small uncertain gaze Nozomi wears. She places the bag on the coffee table and pulls out the frame, ripping off the price stickers and opening it up to pull out the stock photo inside it.

Nozomi and Eli don’t take long to return. Nozomi brings the printed photo over and hands it to Nico, the small smile on her face quickly growing. Eli watches with mild curiosity as Nico puts the backing on the frame and turns it around to show them the end result. Eli’s expression brightens as she stares at the photo, only to become severely confused when she see’s the frame decorations.

“Why is it-”

“Don’t ask.” Nico interrupts her before heading to the kitchen to find the mini tool box gifted to them by her mother. She grabs a hammer and a nail and joins the other two again, stepping onto the couch with the picture frame in hand.

With Nozomi guiding her towards the perfect spot, Nico hits the nail into the wall just enough, then begins to carefully hang up the picture. She makes sure it’s not off balance in any way before hopping off of the couch and standing in between the other two. The three of them stare at the new photo addition to their living room wall and both Nico and Nozomi nod.

“Perfect.” They voice at the same time.

[trinitykitten]

BNHA Ideas. Angsty and Gay.

Okay! These are some BNHA Au’s and little ‘skits’ I came up with and have had for a while. I have two more that are far more thought out. I don’t really plan on writing out any of these so feel free to use the ideas! I’d love to see them come to life! I’ll post the other two if people want them.

*Bakugo and Uraraka fighting*

Tsuyu to Todoroki: Unstoppable force meet immovable object.

Midoriya: Both of you stand down now.

*Uraraka and Bakugo grudgingly comply*

Todoroki to Tsuyu: Unstoppable force, immovable object. Meet undeniable order.

———

Angsty one:

Midoriya records the stories of all his classmates and friends.

And a lot of there deaths.

Yeaaahhhhh fucking morbid, but hey. He’s preserving their memory.

Also even better if he becomes a villain.

———

Animatic:

Girls/Girls/Boys

Tsuyu Ochako Izuku

I think this one explains itself.

———

YUTS Midoriya plays a prank on Endeavour he calls the “Christmas Carol” prank.

He gets Hino to be past, Nana present, and Rei future. Christmas Day Endeavour gets a special visit. Todoroki is informed, probably after he notices his father panicking, that this is a Christmas present from the ghosts and Midoriya.

OKAY BUT HOW DID NO ONE MAKE THIS YET ITS TO PERFECT.

———

Kohei Horikoshi as a BNHA character.

Quirk: Guiding flame

His quirk allows him to manipulate the world and people around him as if he were writing them in a story. Limitations are that the “rewrites” have to already be possible and he can not change the past no matter how much he may want to.

Horikoshi seems to like fire quirks a lot so I put a nod to that in naming his would be quirk.

———

1-A fights for Deku’s love but Shinsou pops up and joins in.

They set up a tournament style thing with trivia and obstacle courses. Eventually they all just start arguing over the results and how it’s unfair and doesn’t mean anything.

Then Deku, who has been trying to get there attention this whole time, is told to decide who gets to be his boyfriend/girlfriend and he just yells “IM AROMATIC YOU IGNORAMUSES.”

They are all shocked the precious bean called them dumb but more saddened by the knowledge they never had a chance to begin with.

———

“Todoroki you bitch get back here!”

Uraraka “W-was that??? DID DEKU JUST CALL TODOROKI A BITCH??”

Todoroki running for his life “Can we PLEASE focus on calming him down?!??!!??”

Uraraka “If even Deku is cursing you out you probably don’t deserve being saved from his wrath.”

Bakugou hiding under a couch “Bitch your on your own try not to fucking die.”

———

Soulmarks AU:

People are connected with soulmarks which are pictures of animals like bunnies or deer and such. To differentiate between different ‘Clans’ all people within a group have the same animal with the same colors. It is possible to be apart of several groups though it’s extremely rare to be connected to more than three groups. Groups consist of ‘Watchers’ and ‘Followers’. Watchers take care of their followers physical and mental health and followers are extremely loyal and protective of their watchers.

Watchers are not necessarily stronger or older than their followers but they are often empathetic, or have leadership qualities. Many clans stay together or stay in touch most of their lives. Some even work together as heroes or in gangs.

———

Todo, Deku, Uraraka, Iida, and Bakusquad are hanging out in the dorms. Bakugo went to bed at 8:30 like the nerd he is.

Ashido: Hey Mido, why does Bakugo seem to hate you so much? What happened?

Deku: Oh I think it’s mostly because I dumped him.

Denki: Wait, WHAT.

Uraraka: You dumped HIM?

Todo: You dated him?

*Iida, Ashido, and Hanata in shook silence*

Kirishima: Dude you need to explain a bit more than that.

Deku: *eyes shining with manic glee* Middle school was fun.

Kirishima: Maybe be a little more specific?

*Text from Baku* : I sense a disturbance.

Everyone starts freaking out while Deku just starts texting back : I was wondering, does your dislike of me have anything to do with getting absolutely overthrown in middle school?

Baku: Fuck you. No. I’m not that petty I just wanna destroy the competition.

Deku: I’m competition? I’m flattered!

Baku: Whatever nerd. When you gunna ask out IcyHot?

Deku: When you gunna stop hitting Kiri and just ask him out?

Baku: NIGHT BITCH.

———

Trans!Bakugo

His parents are fashion designers in canon so to add a bit to that they make more androgynous cloths and things like sports wear including some top of the line sports bras and jackets.

———

Midoriya attempts to get Aizawa off coffee onto hot chocolate instead. (With help from Mic and Midnight)

He starts bringing coffee to Aizawa in the mornings at the dorms because ‘I made to much and figured you want some’ he just keeps doing this until it’s expected. He also slowly starts changing what he brings to be more hot chocolate than not. Mic and Midnight help this along by swapping Aizawa’s own coffee out with a mixture Midoriya made of coco powder and coffee grounds.

Eventually after like three months he walks up to Aizawa in the teacher dorms and hands him a big hot chocolate with wiped cream and says “here’s your coffee.” In deadpan while the other teachers giggle in the background.

Aizawa who immediately figures out what’s happened just takes it and says thanks. Making Mic start laughing like a maniac.

———

Midoriya

Quirk: Split.

It lets him ‘split’ himself creating clones of himself that represent different sides of himself. This includes ‘Sunshine boy’ ‘Deku’ ‘Villain’ ‘Hero’ and ‘Nerd’.

‘Sunshine Boy’ or Midori is the child like caring side that gets the other sides to get along.

Deku is the depressed one that, after meeting his new friends at UA starts to basically turn into Amajiki.

Villain who goes by Midoriya is like Monoma and is kinda crazy. He’s also the second smartest of the group.

Hero responds to Izuku and ‘HELP ME’ (hehe jokes) he’s the super determined one that runs at danger without realizing to save anyone. He’s kinda an idiot.

Nerd likes to be called Izu and is the smartest and the one that generally keeps the others in check. He is analysis and knows everything there is to know about every hero and villain he is aware of. Which is basically all of them.

They sometimes only come out a few at a time which lets the others influence change their personalities slightly.

An example being if only Deku and villain ‘came out’ they would be really chill. Deku just being a bit shyer than Midoriya usually would be and Villain having a shorter fuse.

- Villain (Midoriya)

Is a huge dork and would rather cause wide spread inconvenience and petty theft of snacks rather than actually hurting anyone due to the efforts of Midori and his therapist. Midori is pretty much the only one he listens to and is the one who first got through to the big old tsundere.

———

Deku does a flip off the roof and starts haunting Bakugo to make sure he becomes the number one hero. That his punishment. Atone you don’t have a choice.

Everyone else can see Deku when he wants to be seen, he chooses to let Bakugo see him most of the time. Turns out broccoli boi had a quirk. That quirk is called haunt. It lets him hang around some and keep track of his mother and the Bakugous because they where the only people he really knew and cared about when he was alive. He hangs out with his mom some times when he can but mostly he sticks to watching Bakugo and his new friends.

When Bakugo gets kidnapped he’s pretty sure Deku will just float around and watch to see how it goes like normal but instead he flips out. He wasn’t teleported with Bakugo cause he flitted off to help Kota, this lead to him not being able to get through the portal in time. So he makes himself known and basically drags Aizawa and All Might to where he is. He goes to Bakugo ahead of the heroes and frets and fusses about his precious Kacchan severely confusing the villains because “Why can’t I hit this kid?!??”. Deku had been becoming more protective of the class but after that basically decides 1A is now his adopted family and devotes himself to keeping them out of trouble.

———

Deku is a mob boss but runs it really well and takes care of his employees. Then on the side he’s taking out super villains and dealing with media drama. He’s got different people running different things; Todoroki, Bakugou, Uraraka, Iida, and Tsu help take care of organization, distribution, security, and resources. While the rest of the class has slightly lower and more specialized roles but are still in charge of their respective programs. Some by themselves while others work in groups of two or three.

1A are all apart of ‘security team A’

Most of them have other jobs they do within the mob but some, like Bakugo work full time in the security team. The A team work as bodyguards for the ones in charge while in public and they all work together to take out strong villains and especially villain organizations.

So there working on taking out the Eight precepts of death and they decide they’re gunna need some outside help with it. So Izuku, being the all knowing people person that he is in this Au calls Aizawa up on his phone and asks if he wants to help destroy a villain organization. Aizawa thinks it’s sketchy as fuck but he goes anyway and is extremely confused when this LITERAL CHILD. Yes a FIFTEEN YEAR OLD BOY. Just walks up like “Hello my name is Midoriya Izuku.” And Aizawa is even more confused because This is apparently the guy that owns most of the fucking city. Izuku is having none of the “your a literal child how are you CEO of so many businesses” and he just replies with “When you own the mob the mob does things for you.” And turns around to walk down the street towards where Bakugo and Todoroki are waiting with a tinted window car and fully decked in suit tie and so many god damn weapons it’s ridiculous you can’t actually see any of them. So of course Aizawa is n o t getting in the car with a bunch of shady fifteen year olds that may or may not be affiliated with the mob. “Alright what do you want from me.”

Izuku explains Eri’s situation and somehow convinces Aizawa to help and he eventually just kinda joins the mob as an unofficial babysitter for all of them.

———

The “Midoriya saved us from low key pedophile villains” club

It’s just Bakugou, Kota, and Eri.

———

Let her go

Post BakuDeku

Baku sad cause Deku is either dead or a villain.

———

Symphony of... Delay idea

In an exercise both classes are apart of everyone gets into pairs of two, trying to last as long as possible against the rest of the two classes. It’s basically a giant man hunt in one of the bigger training areas. However, to make it more fair on the pairs that have to run away and defend themselves, the classes where given two weeks to prepare a strategy and gear. Todoroki and Midoriya of course team up and come to the brilliant conclusion they’re going to become a dark souls boss and totally screw everyone over.

They recruit Mei to make them extra warm winter outfits that still let them fight. Then they get to work on making Todoroki’s ice more precise with Mido boosting it. They also ask Recovery girl about the energy gummies she has after checking they could bring snacks. After asking Aizawa if he had any suggestions as to where they could practice a particularly large and blatantly obvious “Move” they where trying to perfect Aizawa got them a pass to one of the training grounds that weren’t being used at the moment. Aizawa was (though he’d never admit it) kinda exited to see this play out. It was going to be hilarious.

The day of reckoning. Todo and Mido went last. Everyone was given breaks in between each persons turn which lasted from a minute to ten minutes each. Though the breaks weren’t particularly short, they had been doing this all day and where getting tiered by then. A couple people where cocky due to the last pair seeming distracted earlier. Someone had seen the two arguing and it made it even easier to doubt them.

That was a mistake.

Todoroki and Midoriya’s plan included this:

- Act like they’re not working together properly.

- Go in to the area as far away from the starting point as possible.

- Midoriya boosts Todo’s ice and they frost the entire area.

- Ice palace.

- Todoroki sitting on a throne in the main hall with Midoriya on a balcony behind him playing the Boss Music which consists of different boosts he can use on Todoroki the ice king : New Dark souls boss.

- Midoriya of course snacking on energy gummies and using offensive music against anyone who gets to close to his perch.

Chaos ensues.

———

Midoriya, Shinsou, and Todoroki’s spirit animal: Scotty Sire

Mido: Mister Glassman

Toshi: awkward

Todo: Notice me

[deathbyvalentine]

Abandoned Movie Monster Submission

Things got back to normal pretty quickly after the end of the world. Humans, as always, were endlessly adaptable. Cities were rebuilt, schedules reinvented and zombies made into a productive member of society. You know, normal stuff. If you looked carefully you could still see signs of the damage wrought. Memorials in parks, hastily constructed. Gun laws, somehow even more lax than they already were. Neighbourhoods which were once almost spilling over from overpopulation, quiet now. But for the most part, the scars were invisible.

We were the most visible wounds.

The living dead, now more living than dead. A cocktail of drugs and CBT rendering us something like our old selves with slightly more rotted flesh. Not everyone was happy with our reintegration. We were murderers after all, every one of us. There was no such thing as an innocent zombie. But after the protests and think-tanks and petitions had faded, we remained. The human rights lobbyists have successfully got everyone to admit our right to exist. Didn’t mean however, everyone was happy with the way that argument had turned out.

Which is why I ended up with this shitty job. 

I had never heard of a zombie being promoted above the most basic tasks. Former CEOs were now cleaners in their own stores, managers now working for the snot-nosed kids they used to rule over. Society collectively decided to give us our lives but like, not good ones. We still had to atone for what we did. We were just grateful that we weren’t treated like rabid dogs and hustled into kill shelters.

This is how I spent my grand second chance, my miracle; I scraped popcorn and gum off the sticky floor. I scrubbed toilets. I served slushies and nachos and burnt my hand on the candyfloss maker. I wore a name tag which also had my favourite film scrawled beneath it. I had been reliably informed that The Evil Dead was not an acceptable answer under their equality and diversity policies. It paid minimum wage and had unsociable hours.

It had its perks. Seeing movies for free was the biggest one. After the apocalypse there was a real surge in comedy and stupid action movies. Nobody wanted to contemplate their own mortality. People wanted to forget and laugh. Hollywood, that bastion of escapism, was more than happy to provide for this need. So over and over I watched the guy get the girl (or the girl get the guy or the girl get the girl, this was the twenty first century after all), evil vanquished and two bros get themselves into increasingly unlikely hijinks. It was nice. After being dead (three whole weeks in my case, before I clawed my way out of the still loose soil) I was ready for an adventure that didn’t end in mourners.

Other perks would have been more enticing had I been alive. Things like free popcorn and coke only really appealed if your diet wasn’t made entirely of raw meat (much like innocence, vegetarianism really took a back seat once you rose from the dead). Sneaking in your friends only really appealed if you had friends. That wasn’t a being dead thing, that was a me thing. It had actually become less embarrassing in recent years. I could blame it on nobody liking zombies.

The other major perk of course, was Mona. Mona was the most alive person I’d ever seen. Her eyes were bright, her hair was shiny and her cheeks flushed at the slightest provocation. I knew this because she flushed when I gave her a sized up slushie for no extra charge.  She was a real film nut, coming in at least three times a week. She tended towards the rare indie dramas, coming out from the darkness with reddened eyes and tear tracks, laughing at herself as she blew her nose. I found myself wondering vaguely if she had came to my funeral - we were in the same homeroom class after all. I couldn’t imagine she had, but it was a nice thought all the same. If I had a friend, I’d want it to be her.

If this were a film, it wouldn’t matter that I was dead. I would save her from a careening car or some bully, or do some grand romantic gesture that made her realise that yes, she had been in love with this weird girl from her homeroom all these years and just had failed to notice. She would tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear and smile up at me and we would hold hands and walk into the sunset. I didn’t say it was a realistic film. But I would watch it.

Unfortunately this was real life and I wasn’t a hero, so I just served her popcorn and occasionally, when I was feeling bold, recommended a movie she might like. She made eye contact with me frequently, unflinching. My own dad hadn’t managed that one yet. I had a hopeless crush and I nurtured it like a flower in the secrecy of my own head. 

Life had continued dragging on until on the fourteenth, she interrupted it. We had just opened, a period of the day where generally we didn’t have customers for several more hours. We were effectively paid to stand around and occasionally wipe stray drips from the slushie machine nozzle. Not that I was complaining. I had managed to make it through a solid chunk of Stephen King’s back catalogue and had no intention of stopped. I was almost offended when I heard the gentle swish of the automatic doors triggering, looking up from the pages to ‘serve’ the interloper. Instead I stopped short. Mona was standing in the lobby, coat pulled tight around her, scarf high enough that only a reddened nose was peeking out. As I watched she tugged the scarf free and smiled, a little breathless.  “Bailey. Hi. Can you talk or are you too busy?” I looked around the deserted lobby. “Uh, no, I can talk.”   “So right, I have this problem. I don’t know if you know this but I study film. And part of the whole thing is that I have to make a student film.” With that, this was the longest conversation we’d ever had.  “Right.” “And I’d had it all sorted. But Gemma, my best friend, her dad has gone all survivalist and yanked her out of class to go to a workshop in the middle of nowhere.” “Isn’t it like, a bit late for that?” “Exactly!” She beamed, pleased I’d got it. “But it is what it is. But now I have this empty role and nobody to fill it.” “Okay.” The silence sat between us, heavy. She raised her eyebrows. “I wondered if you would be okay taking it?” “Oh!” If I could blush, my cheeks would be burning. “God. Yeah, of course. Are you sure though? I’m not that great an actor.” “That’s okay. You like, don’t have to be oscar worthy. Just be able to stand still and look sad when I tell you to.” “I think I can do that.” “Great!” She rushed over and shoved a rumpled call sheet into my hand. “If you can’t make any, just text me, my number is at the top. We can rearrange some for your shifts or whatever.” “Cool.” I was proud of how very composed my voice was. “I’ll see you then.” She waved goodbye and left, leaving me blinking and confused but pleased in her wake.

*

The first problem really cropped up when the ‘make up artist’ Jax didn’t have the faintest idea how to deal with me. Mona eventually intervened, telling the poor boy that she’d rewrite the character to be dead and that was that, he just had to make me look better rather than alive. He added some contouring and lip balm. Any sort of lipstick tended to tip us way into the uncanny valley, like wax dolls being made to look like people. 

[hibiscushut]

The truth needs so little rehearsal

I started my first relationship when I was 16. He was my best friend from church, a tall and awkward boy with a lopsided grin and wonky haircut and a penchant for Star Wars and video games. He followed me around a youth camp for a weekend, while I battled with whether I should be annoyed by his constant presence, or give in to the curiosity of what boys had to offer.

We kissed in the woods and he became my first. My first kiss, my first love, and my first heartbreak three years later.

I loved him with the same passionate intensity I remember seeing in the eyes and hearts of the teenagers I teach today. When puffy-eyed girls came to throw their woes of breakups and loss on my teacher’s desk, a piece of my heart broke with them. Because I remember how deep the love was.

I find myself defending the depth of what some might easily describe as puppy love. Colleagues would roll their eyes over the antics of teenagers entering and exiting these fleeting moments of love. I could see the yearning to be loved in the eyes of young women who hoped to fill the void left by absent fathers, insufficient mothers, and robbed childhoods. I saw them beg to be loved–often looking for the kind of emotional support only given by someone committed equally to reckless abandon–a disaster in the making from the start.

No 17 year-old boy is equipped to provide the support needed to save these girls. But God save them, they’d try. Or they’d enter into the equation unknowingly committing themselves to a business venture doomed to failure. No foundation, a house waiting to crumble under the weight of years of neglect and of jerry rigged patchwork repairs.

But it’s certainly fun while it lasts.

Because in those three years I learned what it was to love without fear, to explore our bodies knowing full and well that neither of us had a clue what to do…I remember being so embarrassed to buy condoms for our first time that we drove an extra 15 minutes away to find the Walmart where we didn’t think people we knew shopped.

I remember getting so irritated to have to buy them that we opted to buy the huge box (which I jokingly referred to as the “Family size.”) We had to sneak…which was part of the fun. Because his mom was a snoop, we hid a backup condom in a random Aviary Guide leftover from Scouting, so sex became referred to as “Birdwatching.” I learned a lot about birdwatching in 3 years.

I learned how my blood flows, how my back arches, and how my fingers find sheets or clothing or skin to grip in anticipation of release. I became skillful in avoiding a stick shift on my left knee and how to use a headrest for support when fucking in the front seat. I lied, made him lie, and spent too many nights “at the library” to justify my lackluster 3.8 GPA–so I could feel the intimacy of another kindred soul, just trying to get through life.

And it was beautiful. I was so very lucky, I didn’t have drama or insecurity, or unfulfilled curiosity in high school. I got to love with reckless abandon until college came, and we went our separate ways.

The scariest day came when I realized I was alone. That my silly dreams were never going to work out. And I had to start over.

So I did what every good trooper does. I wiped my tears, packaged up the tender pieces left from my broken heart, and I became a woman.

And I was fearless. Fearless because I knew that power comes from being the person who cares the least.

I knew what I liked, and for an 18 year old, that’s dangerous knowledge. And it’s sexy. I could be bold and courageous and get what I wanted because I laid out the terms (with no uncertainty) that I was willing to offer XYZ in exchange for ABC. I’m not looking for love (I wasn’t) and you can’t fall in love (or I’m out.)

So I thoroughly enjoyed most of my twenties. I had short affairs, long-standing agreements, and some in-between. I knew when it was time to cut out, reiterate the rules, and from time to time, when to cheat to seal the deal.

Because I was powerfully in control of my wants, my needs, and desires.

I am not proud of some of the people I’ve hurt along the way. In retrospect, a few deserved a chance at more. But I don’t live with an ounce of regret. Until perhaps, now.

Because when I met Lee, he was broken. And I was growing tired of the game. So I swooped in, gave him a shoulder to cry on, and mended his brokenness with my faithful determination to make his (and my) life better. I was devoted in a way I had never been. Because I was rewriting the rules and I figured (I’m laughing as I type this) that if I did this “right” that it had to work. If I closed my eyes to curious contenders, and became his cheerleader, that I would be able to fill the gaps left from his broken childhood, his negligent mother, and his fearful single father.

I could be his hero.

A month ago in counseling Deborah (who I am convinced is the smartest listener I’ve ever met) asked him, “Do you believe that unconditional love exists?” And he quickly responded, no hesitation, “No, of course not.”

I’m not sure I spoke for the rest of the session.

People with Attachment Disorder, which loosely is described as a condition that stems from an insecure childhood from birth-3 years of age, often feel that no one is capable of a love that conquers all. Because of this, when things are “too good” they self-sabotage.

For me, that meant discovering a series of indiscretions including a year-long affair with my best friend, and a half-dozen other affairs over the last five years.

I loved this man unconditionally until I just felt stupid.

So everyday I choose to love my children, with passionate intensity, because I’ll be damned if they grow up believing that true love can’t exist. And I’ve tried over the last year to find joy in everyday living with my husband, because I have hope that he’ll learn to accept his past and embrace the life that’s sitting in front of him.

But I owe it to myself and my children to love myself unconditionally, too,

In retrospect, if I’m really being honest with myself, I never took that packaged shattered heart off my high school shelf. It’s still tucked away under piles of useless shit gathered over the years.

When you described the part of sex when someone really lets go, the sentiment slammed me in the stomach. In truth, it made me cry. I know exactly what that moment is, how it feels, and why it would be an intoxicating moment to share with someone.

You’re an odd duck, Dr. Wiener. Too smart for your own britches. You’re too smart, too fit, and too self-confident for my taste. I feel like I’d never feel beautiful enough, thin enough, or smart enough to rally wits in a debate. I have a 156 IQ, but I’m not well-read and I don’t have a slew of letters scrambling after my name. I’m 6 classes shy of my Masters because I had kids. You win on too many counts. And you know how to ask the right questions and dig in to capture the essence of a conversation, minus the bullshit I’ve learned to use. I feel like sleeping with you would be a battle. I’d be too concerned with telling my brain to shut up, while attempting to keep my head above water. And let’s face it. I’m a hot mess.

Talking to you is like being forced to dance in front of a floor to ceiling mirror. I love dancing–just don’t make me watch.

But I am very thankful to have met you. You have made me think about my life in a new way. And when you talk about integrity, it made me realize something very important. I never want to act in a way that I have to make unnecessary excuses for.

Since we started talking, I’d be lying if I said I’ve gone an hour without thinking about you. I’m telling you this with the caveat that I’m a level-headed woman and you don’t have to reiterate that it’s foolish to “have feelings” for you. I get it. I know the rules. You’re not my hero and you can’t fix things, blah blah blah. You’re just a beautiful escape. You aren’t fully real to me, so I want to know more.

The day will come when we go 2, then 3 weeks without a text or call, and you’ll eventually be a fond memory or someone I could call for an honest appraisal of life. No hard feelings.

And maybe, who knows, we’ll meet and it’ll be one of those moments when we see each other and it’s like waking up after a drunken hook-up and the person you thought you met doesn’t match the memory. Unfortunate, but fun while it lasted.

It’s 12:57. And I’m sleepy. I’ll read over this once, but know it’s the best draft you’re gonna get. I’m not writing to be nearly as witty as you. You win. ;)