#I need her to make jury guys imagine her question in the finale pLEASE

[mazojo]

Cinema

[sierraraeck]

Payphone

Spencer x GN!Reader

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: After dropping everything to be with Spencer, you start to wonder if you made the right choice. Part three.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Heated arguments. Mentions of Maeve’s death, drug use, and allusions to suicide.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Inspired by the song “Payphone” by Maroon 5. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. Also, I tried to make this gender neutral, but if I did not, please let me know what I need to correct. Please keep in mind, I’m not a therapist, so I don’t actually know what questions they would ask, what advice they would give, or how they would handle this situation.

Internal dialogue

Flashback

How did I end up here? That was the main thought running through your head as you sat on the couch opposite the older woman in pointed framed glasses.

Her whispery voice traveled the space between you and pulled you back to real time. “So, how are you?”

You couldn’t help but make a snappy remark back. To be fair, you’d had plenty of practice lately. Plus, you were at a therapist’s office for Chrissake. She couldn’t really believe the answer to that question was going to be positive, could she? “Oh, you mean besides the fact that my best friend and love just said ‘fuck you’ to my face and then said he never wanted to see me again, storming out of my apartment with his keys to my place flying at my head? I’d say I’m doing fantastic.”

You could tell she was trying to hold a composed face, but you saw the slight exhaustion, and some disappointment, flash across her features. “Y/N, we don't have time for jokes. How'd the two of you end up there?” That’s what I’d like to know.

You sighed, “Well long story short, my relationship with Spencer ended on poor terms, I got engaged to Jordan, essentially cheated on him with Spencer, broke off the engagement to be with Spencer, and then that pretty much went to shit as well. Then you know the rest.”

She mirrored your sigh, but said in a soothing voice, “You’re not paying me to help you deal with the short version. Where do you stand with Spencer now?”

You wanted to laugh in her face, “Did you not hear the part about the keys at my head and the never wanting to see me again?”

She gave you a stern, cold look. “Y/N.”

“I know I’m sorry,” you apologized. You just couldn’t help it. Those types of snappy remarks had become a bit of a habit, to the point where it was clearly an unfiltered natural reaction. “That’s not the only thing that’s gone wrong lately, but it really just seems like the last straw.”

She leaned in toward you slightly, a wide open invitation. “Tell me about that.”

“I choose you.” The widest grin you could have imagined spread across Spencer’s face and he quickly pulled you into a kiss. It was almost frantic, like if he didn’t do it immediately you would change your mind. You wouldn’t.

Until, maybe, you would. From the moment he kissed you until the moment you ended up in a therapist’s office, things were frantic. For a while, it was a fun frantic. You moved into your own apartment (you both agreed it was too soon to live together), and you spent as much time as you could together. Between Spencer’s travels and your time commitment to the courtroom, you didn’t have a ton of time, but anything you could get, you took advantage of. Movie nights in on the couch, date nights out to restaurants, mid-day picnics, late night walks, and one of your favorite events yet, clubbing and drinking with his team. You finally got to meet them again, this time on much better terms, and couldn’t help but fall more in love with Spencer seeing how much he loved his team. He would do anything for them, and according to Derek, he looked at you the same way. That’s why you thought it would be a good idea to take the FBI prosecuting job when it was offered to you. You quickly learned that was not the right decision.

“And why is that?” your therapist, Lori, asked.

“I don’t know. I guess working with your significant other is never a good idea,” you shrugged.

“While that is usually true, I’ve seen plenty of successful workplace romances. Is that what you think was the turning point?” Lori prompted.

“I guess. The first thing was how Spencer reacted to me taking the job.”

You thought it would be a nice surprise. You know, like ‘surprise baby, we are going to get to see each other more often’ or something of the like. But when you told Spencer, that was not his reaction at all. He looked shocked, then disappointed.

“What? I thought this would be good news,” you asked, confused.

“Yeah, yes. It is,” he floundered. You knew he was lying, it wasn’t hard to tell. “I’m happy for you.”

Sure, maybe you shouldn't have pushed it, but his disappointment hurt. It felt as if he didn’t want to see and spend more time with you. “Are you? You don’t act like it.”

“I am.”

“What did I do? What is it about me taking this job that doesn’t sit right with you?” It was a reasonable question, in your opinion.

Spencer dismissively shrugged, “It just doesn’t sound like the type of thing you’d be interested in.”

You cocked an eyebrow, trying to remain as calm as you could, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just thought you were the type that ‘liked to stand up for the little guy’ or whatever,” Spencer half mumbled.

You weren’t sure what had gotten his panties in a wad, and the only thing you could think of was, “Did you have a bad case?”

He turned on you, “Oh, come on, Y/N, really?”

This infuriated you even more. “I just can’t come up with another reason as to why you’re being so weird about this. Seriously, Spencer, what’s the problem? Because if it’s not the case, then it’s the job, and I can’t figure out what’s so wrong with that. What’s wrong with that Spencer?” You heard it before he even accused you of it. You knew how your voice sounded when you were in the courtroom speaking in front of a jury, and so did Spencer.

“Don’t interrogate me, Y/N,” he spat, and turned to walk away from you.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just answer my questions,” you fired back.

He spun on his heels with a new fire in his eyes you could tell he was trying to douse. “I just thought you would have talked to me about it first, that’s all.”

“I didn’t think I’d have to because I thought this would be good news,” you tried to explain.

“You didn’t think you should talk to me about it first?” Spencer’s voice got higher, as did his anger.

I don’t need to consult you about my life. Don’t try to control me! You kept those thoughts to yourself, instead responding with, “No. It’s my career and I made what I thought would be the best decision.”

“Well if that’s your view on how relationships work, only making the best decision for you, then maybe I need to reevaluate my own decisions.” That one hurt. That comment went straight through your chest, and for a split second, before remembering what was actually going on, you thought that he’d make a really good lawyer, able to make such harsh comments with such a low, icy tone.

He turned to walk away again when you yelled after him, knowing damn well that he was close to a breaking point if you just pushed a little harder, hoping for some answers. “Why don’t you want me in the FBI, Spencer?”

“Because it’s the one place that I feel at home and I don’t need other people getting involved in that!”

You gaped at him. You just stood there and stared at him. Then, without another word, you went to pick up your stuff from off the floor, and marched toward the door. Spencer quickly stopped you. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t look at him as you tried to push by him, “You said what you said.” And you both knew what he meant, but didn’t say, too.

“I didn’t mean it,” he tried to remedy the situation.

You looked him dead in the eyes, “Really? So can you look me in the eyes and truthfully tell me that you don’t think I’ll be encroaching on your space if I take this job? Can you tell me that the reason you don’t want me taking this job is not because you enjoy having the FBI as a private place all to yourself away from me, a place that makes you feel at home when apparently I don’t? Can you really tell me those things aren’t true?” His silence was all you needed before you walked out.

“So you walked out?” Lori confirmed.

“The first time,” you answered, your voice a low growl.

“How did you two work that out?” she asked.

“We didn’t talk for about a day or two. I still took the job because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have a job. He apologized again and told me some bullshit about being excited for me, just being caught off guard, and we moved past it,” you recited, waving your hand in the air as if that would actually clear the memory from your mind.

“How was it actually working with him?”

“Well, we weren’t exactly working together. I got cases from all over the bureau, so things went back to normal. Sure, it was easier for us to head over to the other’s floor on a break, or go eat lunch together, and things like that, but our time commitments to our jobs were the same as before. The most we interacted during work was when I was prosecuting someone the BAU had caught, and I needed clarification or one of them to testify.”

Lori shifted in her seat, “Did you usually ask Spencer for help with those things?”

“Depends,” you raised your eyebrows quickly, “Did we just fight or not?”

“So the fighting was constant?”

“I guess you could say that,” you huffed. “It went in waves for a while, then got progressively worse.”

“What caused it to get progressively worse?” Lori wondered.

“I didn’t figure this out until later, but it was the anniversary of his girlfriend's death that was the real beginning of the end for us.”

Lori furrowed her brow, “Do you know which anniversary?”

You gave her a dark, tight-lipped smile, “The one-year anniversary.”

“And how long had the two of you been together?” You could see the gears spinning in her head, trying to do the math.

“Eight months.” Her eyes went wide as you saw her put the same pieces together, just as you had. She gave you a curious look, mixed with sympathy, and you nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

“Did you talk about this?” she asked.

“Talk wouldn’t exactly be the word I’d use, no,” you quipped. “But we definitely discussed it.”

You found out from Emily. It was an innocent mistake. Spencer had been acting off, keeping to himself more, going to work early, staying super late. Sometimes he slept in the office and didn’t come home at all. Sure, the two of you weren’t ‘living together’ but you spent a healthy portion at the other’s place. Except, then you weren’t.

Spencer had told you about his past with drug abuse, and how his mom was getting worse, so it wasn’t hard for you to put two and two together and jump to the worst conclusion. Of course, while you're fantastic at what you do, and you do rely on certain non-verbal cues to help you out on the job, you aren’t a trained profiler. Luckily for you, you knew a team of them that also happened to know your Spencer, working only a floor above you.

You were worried, so you asked them if they’d noticed anything. They told you that, while they didn’t know his mom was getting worse, they did know he wasn’t back on drugs. Derek had had the same thought and paid extra attention to him, and was confident that wasn’t what was happening. You were desperate, so you asked them if they could think of anything else that could have him acting like this. That’s when Emily suggested something about ‘wait, isn’t it close to the anniversary of Maeve’s … you know.’ You didn’t know, but a lightbulb went off in JJ’s head. She agreed with Emily and said that had to be what was getting him down. When their attention was back on you, they realized that you were absolutely in the dark about whatever they were talking about.

“The anniversary of whose what?” you demanded.

“Oh, uh, forget we mentioned it. I’m sure Spencer will tell you in his own time,” JJ attempted.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “We’re both still talking about Spencer here, right?”

Her, Emily, and Derek passed looks between them before Emily gave you the very short version of what had happened. You were shocked, and honestly, you felt betrayed. You asked them the same questions Dr. Lori had asked you, which only increased the betrayal you felt.

“So you’re saying that Spencer’s girlfriend got killed right in front of him only four months before he came running back to me?” you confirmed. All they could do was look down and nod. You gasped, “Well, that is certainly good information to know.”

You couldn’t stand to be around anyone just then, and started walking away when you heard Derek call after you, “Hey, Y/N, wait.” You were already at the elevator when he jogged up to you. “I know that comes as a bit of a shock,” you raised your eyebrows at him, “Ok, a lot of a shock. But he was hurting and you were the best thing that could have come around at that time.”

“That’s the thing, though. I didn’t just ‘come around.’ He purposely came after me. Those are two very different things.” He was about to interject, but you put up a hand. “I know that he’s a good guy, and I know that he was hurting, is still hurting, but that doesn’t give him any right to toy with other people’s emotion, and other people’s lives.”

“Is that still how you feel?” Dr. Lori asked.

“To an extent, yeah,” you nodded. She looked at you with soft eyes, letting the silence hang between you. You felt like you already knew the answer to the question you were about to ask, but you hoped Lori could provide some sort of confirmation. Confirmation that Spencer didn’t give. “Do you think he was only with me because she died? Do you think the only reason he came back for me, and essentially wrecked my life in the first place, is because the person he truly loves is dead?”

“I cannot tell you what is or was going through Spencer’s mind,” Lori reminded you.

“Ok, well then, in your professional opinion, what do you think?” Again, you were desperate and needed some answers.

“What did Spencer tell you? Have you asked him that question?”

You’d asked him. Of course, that was in the heat of the moment, and you could only remember certain things you both said and probably in the wrong order, but you remember what his response was.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Your voice was surprisingly calm. Usually, you’d be a lot more mad at him, but all those other times you had something to fight for. Something to really be mad about if things went poorly. Now, though, you didn’t know what was left to fight for or get upset over. Without fully acknowledging your own thoughts, you’d already given up.

“Eventually,” Spencer responded.

“I don’t think you were,” you said, sadly. You’d been thinking about how to approach this conversation since you’d found out, analyzing him and the situation, going over all of your thoughts a thousand times before you finally let them all out. “I think that I remind you of a better time. I think that when we were together, that was the first time, and maybe only relationship, that really went right for you. I think that after the pain and grief that you still haven’t fully processed, I seemed like an easy fix. I could fill the void, and somehow, maybe, just maybe, I could transport you back to a time before the pain of the BAU, before the pain of Tobias Hankle, before the pain of Maeve Donovan, and you could pretend like all of that hadn’t happened. But then, you started to realize that things weren’t as perfect as you remember. We are not the same people we used to be, we never will be, and I couldn’t wipe away everything that happened, I only started hindering the good. You lost all of the good you’ve come to depend on, Spencer. I brought you back to a time when you weren’t the genius doctor in the highest unit of the FBI, a time when you weren’t saving people, and hunting criminals. That’s why you wanted the FBI all to yourself, and you did everything in your power to keep me, and your new life at the FBI separate, including Maeve. And you know what else I think? I think that somewhere in that big brain of yours, you knew all of this, too. I think you knew that you were transferring and using me as a temporary fix. But what about me, Spencer? I walked away from an engagement because I thought all of this was sincere. Yes, that was my choice, but you also made the choice to come to me, regardless of your motives. And somehow, I think you knew this was destined to fail. I should have seen it, too.”

“Well, we all made our choices,” Spencer snapped.

You nodded, clenching your jaw at his deflective statement. “Yeah. We did.” You waited for him to leave like he always did, but he didn’t. He just kept standing there. Against your better judgement, you had to ask the question you’d been wanting to ask since you found out about Maeve. “Am I her replacement?”

“What?” Spencer asked. His head snapped up to yours, eye refocusing, and you would have paid anything to know what was going through his mind before you pulled him back to reality.

“Are we only here because you lost her?” Despite your voice cracking, there was a certain power behind your words.

“Why does that matter?” Spencer asked.

Why does that matter? You couldn’t even believe he would ask you something like that, and you opened the floodgates on him. “It matters because it means that you don’t actually want to be with me! It means that you are using me to distract you and make yourself feel better instead of dealing with your shit. I gave up everything for you, just to find out this isn’t real! And what has it cost you, Spencer!”

“How can you say that? I’ve made just as many sacrifices for this relationship as you have!” Spencer yelled back.

“Like what? Name one thing, Spencer!” He stood there in silence. You snarled, “Exactly! The only things you’ve given up were your ‘ownership’ over the FBI, and Maeve, neither of which you willingly sacrificed.”

“Maybe you’re right, then,” Spencer’s voice dropped to that bone-chilling tone, sending a shiver down your spine. “Maybe I’m not cut out for relationships. My past has certainly told me that. So yeah, I guess I did know this would fail going into it. But maybe it failed because I’m with you and not with her.”

You let out a single bitter laugh. “I’m sure that’s the reason, Spencer. I’m sure that you wake up every morning and look at me and wish you could’ve gotten to Maeve just a moment sooner, huh?”

It was like cross examining a suspect on the stand. You find their most sensitive button, and you just keep pushing it until you get a confession. “No. I wish I would have followed through on my deal to take her place.”

Time seemed to stop. The earth had completely halted on its axis, tearing the fabric of your reality out of the ground and sending it flying. It would have hurt less had he simply ripped your heart out of your body and smashed it under the sole of his shoe. You couldn’t stop and think about what you were saying before it flew out of your mouth. “Then I guess you’re real happy you know where to get the drugs that can help you finally do that.”

“Fuck you!” Spencer yanked open the door to your apartment, fished the keys you gave him out of his pocket, and threw them as hard as he could at you. You ducked out of the way and heard the small dent you later found out they made in the wall behind you. “I never want to see you again!”

He slammed the door and that was the last you’d heard of him.

“So yeah, I asked him the question. I’ve thought about that for days on end and I can’t figure out how much of that was the truth, and how much of that was just anger buildup that took over in the moment,” you admitted.

“You said it’s been days since this happened?” Lori confirmed.

“More like weeks.”

“Why’d you decide to come in now?” she wondered.

“I tried dealing with it on my own. It started to distract me from my work, so I decided I needed help figuring out how to move past this.”

“Have you talked to anyone else besides me about this?” When you gave her an odd look, she explained, “I’m just wondering who else, if anyone, is in your support system.”

“Not really. I briefly talked to an old coworker and friend of mine, Ash, but I didn’t talk to them long. We’re both really busy,” you explained. “Normally I would talk to Jordan about this stuff, but…”

“Ahh, yes,” the doctor remembered, “Jordan. How is he?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m not really in the habit of reaching out to my ex-fiance about how he’s doing since I broke up with him,” you stated flatly.

“How did the break up go?”

The break up made you question yourself, yet again. You always knew you didn’t deserve Jordan. He was always there for you, through thick and thin, through all your highs and lows. And as a lawyer, there were a lot of those. He could empathize and understand your job and everything that came with it better than anyone. You were both a crying wreck when you broke up with him. He was heartbroken, but took it with such grace that you almost immediately wanted to take it all back. You told him that you loved him, you really did, you still do, but that you didn’t think it was fair to him to be with someone who also had feelings for another. He didn’t push you or ask too many questions, but he did ask why he wasn’t good enough. You couldn’t give him an answer. On paper, he was the perfect guy, and in reality, he was pretty damn close. But you just didn’t feel the same things with him as strongly as you felt them with Spencer. You kept apologizing and he kept crying until he walked you out the door.

“Looking back, how do you feel about that?” Lori asked.

“Well, we all make our choices, right?” The irony was too good not to take advantage of.

Lori gave you a pointed look. “That didn’t answer the question.”

“Because I don’t know how to answer it. I made what I thought was going to be a good decision in the moment, but I just don’t believe that anymore.” Saying that out loud lifted a weight from your shoulders.

“Tell me why you made that decision in the first place,” Lori prompted.

That was an easy question, actually. You thought back to when Spencer first came back to you, asking you out on a date in your office, and couldn’t help but smile a little. “I made that decision because Spencer was my first love. He came waltzing back into my life and, once we’d sorted out the rocky way we’d ended things, it was like no time had passed. He was still my best friend, the nerdy, brilliant, sweet guy that invited me to the library when he wanted to spend time with me. He took me on this endearing date, where he literally pulled out all the stops, and before I knew it, I was quickly falling back in love with him. I don’t know, he just makes me feel all these things that I’ve never felt before or after him. I’ve had strong feelings for others, but there’s nothing like the intoxicating energy of just being around him. It’s like floating and drowning all at the same time, and I-” you stopped abruptly after realizing you were rambling, saying all the things you hadn’t even realized had been rolling around in your head like a hamster ball.

Lori was looking at you with a little smirk on her face. “What?”

Her smile widened just a little, “What do you want, Y/N?” You opened your mouth to respond and she clarified, “What do you really want? No sarcastic quips, as fun as those are to hear.”

You took a deep inhale, “I want things to work out.” It was the first time you admitted that to anyone. You hadn’t even admitted it yourself, not even in your head.

“But..?”

“But I just don’t know if all the good is worth the energy it takes to deal with all the bad. And when things are bad, they get really bad.”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Y/N. All couples have problems. Sure, yours are very… unique, but I’ve seen couples get back together after similar or worse fights. What I’ve never seen is a person gush that much about their partner right after that harsh of a break up. I am not here to tell you what your feelings are, and I certainly cannot tell you what Spencer’s are, but if he talks about you the same way you talk about him, I think that the two of you can make things work. There are always going to be lows, and if you later decide that you simply cannot endure them anymore, then that is your right, and you will continue to make what you believe to be the right decision in that moment. But if what you really want is to make things work, then I would say you make the effort to make things work,” she advised.

That was great and all, but you couldn’t even begin to wonder where to start. So you asked, “How?”

She gave you one simple step. “Start by talking to Spencer.”

Love Somebody

@saspencereid @justanothetfangirl

[notmrskennedy]

Whatever You Need

(Chip x Fem!Reader)

A/N - am I little in love with Chip? Yes, but who isn’t? So please enjoy my hot take on our lovely Mr. Chip Taylor

Summary - a university professor meets a very adorable maintenance guy ...

Warnings - a pinch of swearing and two teaspoons of mentioning gross things

Word Count - 3k 

-------

There’s a thin line, she realises as she rushes into the lecture hall, between anthropological research and grave robbing. When you’re on loan to the federal government and a water pipe bursts at a cemetery, there isn’t much to do other than say, ‘yes sir Mr. FBI agent, I will gladly slop through three feet of mud and water, digging through graves!’

She’s ten minutes late to her lecture. Ten minutes long enough that the TA’s are snickering. Ten minutes long enough that the entire class looks horrified that their Anthropology 101 professor is covered head to toe in dried mud, grass, and whatever else could be found in destroyed 19th century coffins.

She sets her bag down heavily on the desk and startles everyone in the room. Sans the maintenance guy. He’s tinkering with vent at the foot of door. He’s mostly a faded ball cap and a distressed jean jacket, one arm shoved up the vent. She can’t imagine why someone would have their arm up a vent, but god only knows why the university would ask someone to.

A moment passes where she unabashedly stares. How did she miss him? Was she in that much of a hurry that she nearly tripped on the guy and didn’t look back? And what the hell is in that vent?

The TA’s snicker behind her back, sobering up when she shoots them a half deadly look. She’s covered in mud, not lenience. She half hopes Maintenance Guy will turn around—she has a desperate, yet beguiling feeling he’s hot. But what she’s really curious for is what’s stuck up that vent.

And he doesn’t turn around—his complete disregard of her is a 180 from the rapt attention she’s receiving from her students—until she’s frustratedly brushing dirt off her face. Pulling grass from her hair.

“Let me just start with,” she begins, pulling an earth worm out of her sleeve, “if the federal government asks you to sort through bodies in a flooded cemetery, tell them no. And despite how much fun grave digging can be, there’s a thin line and that line is punctuated by whether they’re arresting me or not.”

Maintenance Guy snorts, head turned to beam up at her. She’s almost taken aback by how bright he seems. How his grin puts the sun in its place. He looks honest, grease stains and all.

There’s something to be said about the fact she’s studying his bone structure instead of his fleshy bits. She can’t tell you what colour his eyes are, but his zygomatic bones are killer.

“Professor?” a TA prompts, ineffectively holding back their own knowing smiles.

“Thanks for reminding me,” she replies, digging through her bag to hand out a stack of student essays. “Pass these back, please?”

Tick one for the professor.

“And as per usual,” she announces, leaning back against the white board, “let’s do our daily recap. And as you know, these questions can be used to aid in exams.”

She sneaks a glance at Maintenance Guy, pulling his arm out from the vent. He grumbles, digs through his toolbox, and grabs a screwdriver. Whatever is in that vent is stuck.

Once the rustling stops, she says, “Okay, question one: if your professor—that would be me for those of us who are new—were to be one of, say, five wives with one husband, it’s called—?”

“Polygamy!” a student shouts from the front row.

“You’re right, but you aren’t correct,” she says, standing up straight. “Polygamy is the practice of having more than one spouse. Polygyny—with an ’n’—is multiple wives to one husband. Examples of the culture are Kenya’s Logoli and other Abalulya sub ethnic groups.”

She writes it on the board for spelling, and glances over to see Maintenance Guy paused in his excavation of the vent. He’s paying better attention than her students. It’s sort of sweet and she stifles her soft giggle at the thought.

He’s ridiculously tall and she takes a moment to appreciate just how long his femurs have to be.

“Question two!” she announces and finds even the most hungover kids forcing their attention on her. “If your professor were to marry five men all at once, that’s called—?”

“Polyandry,” a student pipes up from the back. “A lot of times it’s fraternal marriage.”

“Examples of a culture that practices—”

Pop!

Maintenance Guy rolls back with the force. His knees are still bent from where they’d been used as leverage against the vent, a wall of debris bursting into his face. In one gloved hand was a dead raccoon, while the other desperately brushed bits of the vent’s clog—a raccoon’s nest—from his eyes.

“Oh Jesus,” she mutters, jumping into action. She picks up a garbage bag from his toolbox and nets the dead animal from his hand. It’s a pretty tame find, though she’s used to human remains which tended to be—gooier.

With the animal tucked up, she hauls Maintenance Guy to a sitting position, frantically cleaning the odds and ends of the nest out of his eyes. She steals his ball cap as she whispers kind words to him, further trying to shake the bits of insulation out of his shaggy hair.

The class is in a terrible chatter behind them. Not that it matters. Not with Maintenance Guy’s eyes opened and his hands gently clutching onto her wrists as she brushes the last bits of insulation off his cheeks. His eyes are definitely hazel up this close.

“Thanks,” he croaks, still gently latched onto her hands.

“It’s no problem,” she smiles back, absently studying the rest of his face. He’s got the kind of skull she’d love to see on her table—well, maybe once he’s died of his own accord because he seems rather sweet. Confused and concerned, but…sweet. “Don’t worry. I’ve had much worse flung all over me. You don’t much get used to it.”

He smiles, barely chuckling. Coughs up a bit of insulation.

“You might want to see a doctor. Insulation in the lungs is…what gets you a one way ticket to my lab.” She grins at her own terrible joke. His eyes are too close and she can’t help but wish for a skeleton to be looking back at her. She understands those. People are too…gooey.

“I’m Chip,” he offers, silently asking her for help to his feet. She does, offering her own name in return. He mulls over it, like it’s a fine wine sitting on his tongue. “Professor Y/N. Thanks again.”

She shrugs, mouth suddenly too dry. Heart beating too fast. Jesus, human interaction was going to kill her. There was no job to distract her from Chip’s strong hands. There were no bodies to keep Chip’s genuine gaze off of her. There wasn’t anything to distract from seeing Chip as so pleasantly human.

“Want the raccoon as a consolation prize?” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with a newly de-gloved hand. There’s something satisfying about answering questions that aren’t meant as questions. Especially ones that showed just how weird she really was. The questions that were relationship testers—like can we be friends if I tell you that I keep carrion beetles as pets?

“Actually, sure.” Chip’s jaw drops just slightly open. He has cute teeth. “Dissection is a key part of the anthropological process, forensic or not. Let’s see just what this raccoon was up to. Eh, class?”

Every single one a deer in the headlights, the class goes eerily silent. She winks at Chip and announces again. “Don’t you guys want to see what I do for a living? I mean human remains are much cooler but I think we can settle for a mostly solid raccoon carcass.”

A TA clutches at her stomach. “Professor, never say that again.”

The professor just laughs, absentmindedly taking a soft grip on Chip’s shoulder. “Don’t worry everyone, Chip’s going to keep the raccoon. At least I’m not making the final a practical examination. I do have access to laboratory rats—“

The entire class clambered forward, hoping to dispel the idea and the evil smirk off their professor’s lips. She just beamed back at Chip, dropping her hand. She expected the same horrified expression of her students, but he seemed, dare she say, impressed.

That wide eyed shock creeps onto her face. Because who would risk being impressed by a professor covered in dirt from grave digging who offered to dissect a raccoon at 10 AM on a Tuesday?

Apparently, it’s this guy. Must have a thing for crazy women.

Chip shakes his head, bites his lip, and turns to stoop for his raccoon trophy. “I’ll, uh, have them send someone for the nest. I—I guess I have to do something with the raccoon, if you’re sure you don’t want it?”

She just shakes her head, failing miserably at keeping her cherry red tint to herself. “No, no. Maybe next time.”

“Next time,” he repeats, rather sadly, to himself. Though, as he turns to leave, it feels more like a promise.

#

The worst part about knowing Chip is that she seems to see him everywhere. Rushing between lecture halls? There he is, doing his best to fix a fountain. Getting escorted away by federal agents? There he is, sympathetically waving as he walks across the quad. Leading a group of students outside to lecture on the green? There’s Chip, fixing a sprinkler.

She’s had exactly three times in the last six months to talk to him. All under three minutes.

But today, today she’s running late from court. Grand jury testimony had gone fine, until Agent—God, she’ll never learn his name—WhatsHisFace tried to ask her out again. Because what a turn on talking about the mutilation of a hacked up college girl was.

It also didn’t help that, outside of the court room half an hour before, she was doodling what she thought Chip’s skull would look like.

So she can’t help but storm into her postage stamp of a classroom, dropping her package on the desk with a gentle, yet annoyed huff. Her 12 students, all seniors in the Anthropology department, raised their eyebrows at her. At her court getup.

She’d missed those formative lessons at 13 on how to be a proper lady. And even if she had had them, it probably wouldn’t have stuck. Besides, what she wore into the field had to be more than acceptable for the university’s standards. The heels and pink blouse of today were extremely rare and uncomfortable.

“Whoa, Professor Y/N!” Reese Rosebeck calls out, dramatically twitching in his chair, “Is that really you? You look hot!”

“Ha, ha. That’s a very coherent thought for the kid who wrote the worst paper I’ve ever read,” she deadpans. She relents when she sees his dramatic puppy dog pout. “Though, I do have to say I enjoyed you’re use of colloquial slang. Accentuated your point very cleverly.”

“As long as I impress the hottest professor on campus, I’m alright.”

There was a quiet laugh from the back of the room, and she found her eyes snapping to the hunched over back of none other than, Maintenance Guy Chip Taylor. He’s just quietly listening—as always—tinkering with the radiator pipes in the back of the room. She’s half thankful. It is starting to get cold.

“Hey, Chip!” she chirps and the poor thing bangs his head on the pipes. He waves her off in a flash, hand extended wildly above the other desks in the room. Reese chuckles to himself, dragging Lionel with him.

She kicks her heels off behind her desk, straightening herself once she’s back on stable ground. She’s about three apples short of a pie to wear heels for more than six consecutive minutes. The female students give her rather sympathetic looks as she begins to roll her feet and open her package.

She pauses halfway in. Jeez, she forgot about—“Hey, Chip?”

Like a meerkat, he pops up with a dazzling soft grin.

“Are you going to call the cops on me?”

“Excuse me?”

Her students’ eyes bounce back and forth between the pair, following the invisible tennis match. The professor settles on a rather tired, “Are you going to call the cops? The last person who attended lecture that didn’t know me, called the cops because of a demonstration. So, are you?”

“No.” He shakes his head and she wonders if he’s a little too trusting. He’s honest as he leans back down to continue futzing with the pipes. He’s genuine in every interaction they have. Does she really deserve the kind of trust he’s offering? To a crazy woman who’s asked if he’ll call the cops on her?

She shakes the thought away. These 12 students—tangible students—need her focus. At least for the next few minutes. She pulls six human skulls from her package, all neatly wrapped up in protective glass cases. She places those on the table along with a box of gloves.

“Two people to a skull,” she announces and runs through the rest of the directions. “Don’t forget your gloves. You too, Ms. Figg.”

Jamie Figg’s fierce blush is long forgotten once they are all set to work. Tactile learning is the best way to learn in her opinion, expressly in advanced classes like these. It also gives her a moment to rest her brain—even if it’s a few minutes before the onslaught of necessary questions.

She settles into an unused section of chairs and desks, smiling absently at the way all of the kids have squeezed themselves around the one table. She misses the days when she was young and new, ready to find her own legs to stand on.

Chip’s not quiet and she watches him with too much adoration as he sits down next to her. It’s not all too unexpected nor uninvited. He smells like grease and good cologne up close, mixed up with that dangerous combination of hazel eyes and delicious bone structure.

Chip smirks, drawing her out of her smidge of staring. “See anything good?”

“You have excellent bones,” she mutters, tracing a finger against her own cheek instead of his. “Prominent zygomatic bones and well balanced supraorbital margins. But the, um, the rest of you is—is nice too.”

Oh great one, Y/N. Perfect. You’re such a fucking creep.

Chip just smiles. The kind of soft upturn of the lips and dip of the head that means he took it like the compliment it was meant as. He runs a rather shakey hand through his hair, bringing his gaze back up to do his own staring. She wonders what he sees about her. She’s sure he doesn’t see bone structure like she does, but does her flesh give away something she doesn’t know about?

Chip wrings his hand down behind his neck and she sees it. That little bit of something that brews between his bones and his epidermis. The fuzzy sort of thing that sits behind his eyes. The one she’s seen in war veterans, cops, and now the university’s maintenance man.

And as if he’s just a skull on her table, she states ever so eloquently, “You look like the kind of guy who’s seen some shit, Chip.”

And as if she’s accepted his offer for the raccoon all over again, he beams. He further turns away from her, shaking his head, and she follows his eye line to the students not so subtly glancing over at the pair every three seconds. The dozen are still chattering on, examining the skulls in their hands with rapt fascination.

Chip, despite all the non-threatening, sensitive, idiot boy vibes, looks over the skulls with more recognition than she cares to admit she sees. Most people don’t look at skulls like they’re familiar. Like the idea of them being formerly attached to a living person doesn’t bother them.

Again, looks like he’s seen some shit.

“Are they real?”

She nods, taking a tiny chance and pressing their shoulders together. She’s not upset to say that Chip carries very warm skin on his lovely skeletal structure. She wipes the blush off her cheeks and answers, “From the university’s collection. I’ve done a lot of travelling, lots of excavations, lots of grave robbing—sometimes the university doesn’t miss the skulls of the not-so-recently deceased.”

“You’re very—“

“Creepy? Weird?”

She hopes that Chip is too stupid to hear the insecurity bleed through. That he’s too stupid to look at her the way he is. Instead, he squints as if he can’t risk choosing the wrong adjective, so the words inch through his brain. All carefully refined into his choice of, “…Intelligent.”

His takes her hand in his to accentuate his point. She nearly stops breathing.

“You’ve forgotten more this morning than I’ll ever know,” he whispers. She doesn’t know how to look at him without letting him see the hearts in her eyes. Her fingers tighten against his. “I’d never call you creepy.”

She swallows, fighting against the rock in her throat. It wasn’t often people paid her any compliments, especially after she’d let her mouth run for more than five minutes in a one-on-one conversation.

And as if she isn’t already trying to desperately clutch onto her frayed nerves, he confidently pulls a slightly creased business card from his shirt pocket. Offers it to her irritatedly hesitant fingers.

“I do home visits, you know,” he says, putting more weight into where their skin touches. “So, if you’re dishwasher breaks or something, give me—give me a call.”

Chip squeezes her fingers one more time, double checks she’s holding onto the business card, and walks back for his toolbox. Only when the classroom door is closing behind him does Reese shout out, “Oh-ho-ho! Professor’s getting some!”

“Get back to your skull before I use yours as a soup bowl,” she snaps, though she can’t hide the cherries in her cheeks as she thumbs over the business card. Chip Taylor. Whatever you need.

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

I need a Drink not a Recess

OK, I know we are in the middle of Fresh Starts series, and I changed lanes to get all my delicious kinktober stuff up, but I’m going to change lanes one more time before going back to Fresh Starts.

As a Barba fan person we were all broken when he left and we all dream of his return. This ‘thing’ was encouraged by my family on discord who really are my heart and soul and I have been so grateful to have found you all. This year has not been the best but typing beside you all has made this year a little more bearable! 

Shout out to @detective-giggles for encouraging this and helping me along the way and to @karens-imagined-world / @the-baby-bookworm​ for also encouraging this and for the awesome mood board she created for this story!

Enjoy xx

Warnings: light language and light smut

“Did you think of me at all when making this decision?”

Your eyes were filled with tears and your hands balled at your side. Rafael was leaning on his kitchen counter looking down with a reddened face.

“So all those promise- empty clearly” you spat at him.

“I have been through a lot, I need a fresh start” Rafael snapped at you.

“Yeah? And who was there for you through all that? Is this what you do, sweet talk them, get them into bed for them to get attached to you, promise them the world and then leave?”

Rafael meet your eyes for the first time since the conversation started, he could see the hurt in them and his filled with tears.

“You know what Rafael, have a nice life”

*2 Years Later*

“Sonny- Here’s your coffee” you walked into Sonny’s office, arounded his desk and placed the coffee cup in front of him. Sonny stood up and kissed you on the cheek before putting on his jacket.

“Thanks Y/N, Ready for the stand?” You reached up to straighten Sonny’s tie.

“I think so, Kat and I worked on our statements last night, think she is ready too- who is the judge?”

“Briggs” Sonny shot you a look as a smirk came to your face “Control yourself Y/N, don’t fire him up”

“What me” you batted your eye lashes “Never, he loves me”

“I know- I remember the Christmas party” Sonny rolled his eyes.

You and Sonny made your way to the court room, seeing Kat, Amanda, Fin and Liv waiting outside the doors.

“Morning” You smiled at everyone as you made your way to stand between Amanda and Kat.

“Ready Partner?” Kat nudged you in the side.

Liv, Fin and Amanda patted you both on the shoulders and walked in to find a seat. Sonny turned to look at you both,

“I’ll see you both in there” Sonny winked at you and walked in.

You and Kat walked around to the seats at the side of the court room and sat there to wait.

“So you and ADA Carisi?�� Kat looked at you with a smirk, you rolled your eyes.

“There is no me and ADA Carisi, he is my best friend, we have been through a lot and were partnered for a long time” A soft smile came to your face.

“I’ am Sorry I didn’t mean to over step” Kat looked down with reddened cheeks.

“It’s ok, look partner I’ll be honest- my heart was broken a couple of years ago. I have never been able to get over it. That’s why I love this job, I don’t have time to think about it and I work with my best friends that help me not to think about it” you winked at her “Kat, I know you came in during a whirl wind, and well- we weren’t all that welcoming, but I’ am glad to have you by my side. Theres still a lot we need to know about each other but we will get there. How about on Saturday we get lunch and do some shopping? I need some new work pants”

“That sounds great” a big smile came to Kat’s face.

Just then Kat was called and she was walked in with a guard.

----

Sonny was sorting out his paper work on his desk, getting everything in order, Liv, Fin and Amanda sitting in the row right behind him. The jury walked in and took their places.

“All rise for the Honourable Judge Barba” was boomed out in the court room everyone standing as the door at the back corner opened.

Sonny’s mouth dropped open and Liv, Amanda and Fin almost fell back into their seats. Out walked Rafael with a white collared shirt and orange tie poking out the top of his black robes. Everyone sat down bar Sonny, Amanda, Liv and Fin who all had shocked looks on their faces. Rafael looked out to them giving them a small smirk,

“Please sit Detectives, you too Counselor”

----

It was a long while after Kat was called in before your name was called. You put your phone back in your pocket standing up straightening up your black tight fitting pants, you looked down to make sure your purple button down shirt was still tucked in nicely, adjusting your badge on your hip. You fixed up your matching black blazer and tucking your straight hair behind both ears before the doors were opened to the very full courtroom. You locked eyes with Sonny who gave you a weird look.

You made your way into the room and looked at the Judges chair stopping in your tracks when you saw Rafael sitting behind the bench, you swear you stopped breathing for a minute, you stood there staring, not quite believing what you were seeing,

“Mr Carisi, please tell your witness to take the stand or I’ll hold her in contempt for holding up my courtroom”

You shot Rafael a dirty look and made your way to the stand, the only noise in the room was the clink of your low heels on the floor. You stepped up on the stand looking Rafael in the eyes, narrowing yours at him when he sat back frowning at you in his chair.

You were sworn in and sat down looking out locking eyes with Amanda who shrugged her shoulders at you. Sonny and Amanda both knew about your relationship with Rafael before he left, they were also the two people that held you together when he did leave. Your heart was shattered into pieces when he told you he was moving to Iowa and it shattered you even more when you never heard from him but he was in contact with Liv.

Sonny stood up and asked you his first question, but you were looking up at Rafael trying to read his poker face,

“Detective Y/N can you answer my question please?”

“I’ am sorry what?” you looked away from Rafael to Sonny.

“Your honour approach?” Rafael nodded at Sonny as he made his way to the stand.

“Y/N are you ok?” Sonny said just above a whisper frowning at you.

“I could ask the same question Detective” Rafael looked down at you.

“Forgive me your Honour I can’t concentrate” you snarled at Rafael.

“Does your witness need a recess till tomorrow Counselor?” Rafael looked over at Sonny, who nodded back.

“I need a drink not a recess” you rolled your eyes.

“Court is in recess till 9 am tomorrow” Rafael's voice echoing through the court room banging his gavel “Detective Y/N my chambers NOW” Rafael frowned down at you as he made his way down from behind the bench.

You got down off the stand and walked over to Sonny who was packing up his papers and the others leaning on the hand rail behind Sonny.

“I’ am sorry I stuffed up Sonny- but what the hell? Liv did you know Barba was back?”

“Come on Y/N if I knew I would have told you guys, I’ am just as shocked as you all are.”

You all started to walk out of the court room, Liv and Fin said bye and left leaving you, Sonny, Amanda and Kat.

“Y/N, you really didn’t know? He didn’t reach out?” Amanda grabbed your shoulder

“If I knew don’t you think I would have said something?” you looked down to hide your tears that had filled your eyes “Just shows even more that I didn’t mean anything to him”

“What’s going on?” Kat blurted out. You looked up at Kat as a tear escaped one of your eyes.

“You know when I told you my heart was broken a couple of years ago” you paused and Kat nodded “Judge Barba was the one that did it- he was ADA Barba then”

“Come on Y/N I’ll help you find his office” Sonny wrapped his arm around your shoulders leading you away from Kat and Amanda.

After a few wrong turns you and Sonny finally found Rafael’s new office, his door was slightly open. You could see him looking through a case file, sleeves rolled up, tie lose and his top buttons undone. He was clean shaven again. Liv had told you that last time she video chatted with him he had grown a beard.

“You going to be ok?” Sonny grabbed your hand giving it a squeeze, all you could do was nod “Come and find me after, I’ll take you for a drink and dinner” Sonny kissed you on the forehead and walked away.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes to muster all the confidence you could in the hopes you wouldn’t cry. You walked to the door and knocked twice. Rafael looked up and nodded for you to walk in,

“Close the door please Detective” you did as he asked and turned back around to face him.

“May I ask what this is about your Honour, I have work to do”

“Y/N” Rafael said your name softly, the way he would when he was between your legs.

“Don’t” you bit your lip as you felt the tears coming to your eyes.

“Don’t what?” Rafael stood up off his chair and made his way around to stand in front of you his arms crossed in front of him.

“Don’t say my name like that” you kept looking at the floor.

“Can we talk?”

“About what? How you up and left breaking my heart? Or how you left for what just over two years and never made an effort to reach out to me but you could stay in contact with Liv, or I know, how you waltz back into a court room as a judge not giving anyone the heads up that you were back in Manhattan” there was a long pause “So which is it Rafael? Because if you’re not going to say anyth-“

“I’ am sorry” Rafael cut you off “For everything. I know I went about everything the wrong way”

“Ya think?” you shot back.

“Sarcasm is the weapon of the weak Y/N”

“Would you rather I yell at you?” You looked over at him frowning “I know you had been through a lot, I get that, I know that, I was by your side for all of it, but clearly I was just some fuck buddy that you fooled. You broke my heart in half Rafael, you made me all these promise, we had all these future plans- I thought you were the one” Tears fell from your eyes as you raised your hands to hide your face sobbing.    

Rafael closed the gap between you wrapping you into his arms, you lent your covered face onto his chest, Rafael resting his lips on your head.

“I didn’t just break your heart, I broke my own doing that to you. I know I should have reached out- I felt guilty every time I spoke to Liv knowing all I had to do was dial your number. I only got back into town on the weekend I’ am staying with my Mum till I can find a place. I didn’t just want to turn up at your door ste-“

You pulled back out of his embrace stepping back looking at him furious,

“Didn’t bother you turning up on my door step when you wanted to ‘blow off some steam’ at all hours of the night”

“You were never just a fuck buddy-Maybe you need to settle down so we can have an adult conversation about all this” Rafael put his hands on your hips glaring down his nose at you.

“Don’t you dare Rafael Barba” you gritted you teeth at him.

“Sorry- look let’s have a drink, Please. I have some scotch here. Sit down”

You moved to sit on Rafael’s two seater couch and watched as Rafael moved around to his desk, getting out a full bottle of his favourite scotch and two low ball glasses. Rafael walked back over sitting next to you, pouring two glasses and handing one to you. Silence filled the room and each of you didn’t know who would crack first.

“Why didn’t you reach out to me?” Rafael said just above a whisper. You sculled what was in your glass and lent forward to pour some more into it sitting back into the couch.

“I didn’t think you wanted me anymore”  

“I was in a dark place, you knew that- But there were so many nights I just laid there and thought about you- I missed you more than you will ever know. We just- I don’t know, lack of communication”

“Lack of communication is an interesting way to put it” you rolled your eyes “You can’t tell me that all this time you didn’t move on with someone else making promise you didn’t keep”

“Y/N- No I hadn’t” you looked at him shocked “I may have left Manhattan physically, but my heart was still here- with you”

Rafael lent forward placing his glass on the coffee table, he reached over and took yours out of your hand and put it next to his glass, as he lent back he grabbed onto your leg pulling you to straddle his lap. You looked deep into his eyes and rested your hands on his chest, his on your waist.

“I don’t want you to judge me by the past. I don’t want to pick up where we left off, I want to start fresh with you. I made mistakes, ones I will regret for the rest of my life- but we are here now. I want to make new promises to you, promises that I will ke-“

“How can I trust that?” tears slowly ran down your cheeks.

“I know it will take a while, but I’ am not giving up on you- on us again. I love you Y/N”

Rafael pulled you into him, your lips meeting as you melted into his chest, you moved your head to the side, opening your mouth so he could deepen the kiss. Rafael ran his hands all over your back and down to your bum and then back up again sending a shiver down your spin, pulling your button down out of your pants starting to undo the buttons. Your hands grabbing at his shirt collar to pull him closer. You started to grind down on him lightly and he moaned into your mouth, Rafael moved his hands away from your buttons putting them back on your waist, pushing your hips down onto him. You pulled back and rested your forehead to his,

“I’ve missed you so much” you whispered before you kissed the tip of his nose “I love you. Never leave me again��

“I promise, never again.”

Part 2

[keanureevesisbae]

“Never out of practice” - Chapter 5

Summary: When Darcie’s father loses an important case, a killer seeks revenge, by kidnapping the entire Angel family. Though John thought that he was officially retired, he has to save his Darcie and her family, because he can’t lose her.

John Wick x OFC Darcie

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: violence

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next chapter 

Why is my back hurting like hell? I’m flat on my stomach, but manage to push myself up. When I open my eyes, I don’t recognize my surroundings.

Where am I anyways? What happened? But I don’t have to think about for a long time, before I remember exactly what happened.

Pete Stanford took me. When I look around me, I don’t see anyone else. My hands are tied together with zip ties and they cut in my skin. I stand up, but since my legs are wobbly, I slam against the concrete wall with my shoulder as I lose my balance.

John must be so worried, I think to myself. I can’t imagine what the cafe looked like when he finally arrived. He was too late. Or I didn’t stall long enough.

Oh my God, if John doesn’t find me, I know my parents and I are going to die today. We all know that Pete Stanford murdered Whitney Bell. We all know that he mutilated her body, dumping her out in the open. Everyone who kept track of this case knows that.

And now my parents and I are probably next.

If he didn’t kill my parents already.

There is no way I can escape, I realize, looking around me. There are no windows in the tiny room where I woke up. Only a door, that I can’t look from the inside. The small light bulb on the ceiling that make it a little bit more clear that I really can’t escape.

I try to wiggle my wrists out of the zip ties, but obviously the battle me vs zip ties is a battle that I’m destined to lose. I wish John was here to help me. I just wish that John was here, so he could wrap his arms around me and tell me that I’m okay. I just wish that I could give Tiki and Oreo one last kiss. I so desperately want Raye to make fun of me and Jennie to hug me.

I hear a scream and I think that it’s my mom. Oh my God, my parents. What are they doing to her?

A door opens and I look into the eyes of the man who threw me against the wall. He walks up to me and grabs me by my hair. I wince when he harshly tugs the strands. He takes larger steps than me, so I practically have to run to keep up with him. The man throws me on the floor and I manage to break my fall on the hard floor.

I see my mom, her hands tied in front of her and her face blotched with red spots and my father with a piece of ducttape over his mouth, his arms tied against a pipe above his head. ‘Mom? Dad?’ I manage to choke out. I want to push myself up, but I feel a foot on my back, preventing me from breathing practically.

‘Princess,’ Pete Stanford says, ‘did you know that your dad ruined my life?’

‘No,’ I say, thinking that he wants me to talk to me. It somehow helped a bit in the cafe, so I figure it will help now. And maybe I can stall the moment of my murder and hopefully give John a little bit more time to find me.

If he manages to find me of course.

‘Well,’ he says, releasing his foot off my back and he gently pulls me up my shoulder. He almost seems like he cares, but when he shows me the knife, slowly grazing my jaw, I remember all too well what kind of man he is. ‘Did you see that interview today?’

I shake my head. ‘I was working all day.’

Pete brings his face way too close to mine. I can smell the liquor he has had, but I don’t turn my face away. I don’t want to upset him even more.

‘What was it about?’ I ask. ‘What did he say?’

‘About how I should be put away for life and he’ll make sure I’ll be behind bars forever.’

I have watched enough Investigation ID during my true crime fascination in college, to know that the last thing I need to do right now is to make him even angrier. He already hates my dad’s guts, I don’t think he is such a great fan of my mom, since she’s a lawyer too, but I’m not part of that world. I simply own a cafe.

I’m just a girl whose boyfriend was a former assassin and is currently praying that he will find her.

‘But,’ I say, swallowing hard, hoping he can’t see through my nerves, ‘you’re a free man. You were innocent according to the jury.’

Pete chuckles. ‘Right,’ he says. ‘You’re the only one who understands. Maybe you should’ve gone to law school.’

The knife is still dangerously close near my throat. ‘Wasn’t smart enough for that,’ I quietly say, trying so hard not to make eye contact with my parents, because I know once I’ll see them, I’ll do something stupid.

‘But I listened well to what you said. You said that I was innocent according to the jury. Do you want to know how I murdered her?’

Oh dear Lord, please no! ‘Who?’

‘Whitney.’ He lifts his shoulders in disbelieve, like he can’t believe I asked that question. ‘Because I did it.’

‘Oh.’

‘And I really want to tell you and you know why?’

I shake my head.

‘Because for one, you’re the only one of this family that I somehow can’t despise.’ I think that is a good thing? ‘And I’m going to do the exact same things to you, while your parents watch,’—he wraps his hand around my throat, slightly squeezing, blocking the blood flow to my brain a little—‘how I kill their daughter.’

I’ve been acting “strong” for too long, because I start to cry. ‘No, please, I don’t want to die. I just want to go home.’

Pete opens his mouth to tell me something, but I hear deafening gunshots that echo in the empty space. I duck down, trying to cover my head with my arms, while I let out a scream. I look through my arms, to see my parents, my mom seeking cover and my dad closing his eyes. The men that took me from the cafe pull their gun, but before they can fire, they drop to the floor.

Pete pulls me up and wraps his arm around my neck, holding me up as a shield. I stand on my toes, while I hold his forearm with my hands. Tears are streaming down my eyes, but between the tears, I see a blurry image of my boyfriend.

John found me. He points his gun to us. ‘Let her go,’ John says in a low and dangerous voice.

Pete pulls out his knife and holds it near my face.

A cry leaves my lips, as I start to feel lightheaded. To make things even worse, he puts more pressure on my throat. My legs grow tired of standing on my toes, trying to keep my balance.

‘Let her go,’ John says again.

Pete hides himself behind me. I believed John when he said that he was quite legendary back in the day, but I know that even the best assassin can’t make that shot. ‘And why on earth would I do that?’

Seconds pass where John doesn’t say anything. His eyes are focussed on me. Everything that we’ve been through, I see it all passing by. His shy chuckle, where he would bring his hand to his mouth to cover it up. His warm embraces, when I need them when I’m sad, extra happy to see him or just really stressing out over work and all the paperwork. His smile when he catches my eye when I’m working.

The conversations he has with the high school kids, inviting them over to sit at his table. His love for Tiki and Oreo, how he tucks them underneath a blanket when they are sleeping. How he holds stuff above his head, so I can’t reach them when I really need it. How he always opens the door for me, no matter which one. He still takes off his jacket when I need to get out of the car and wear a short skirt or dress.

God, all the things he did for me… He did find me, but what if he can’t save me? Well, at least he can save my parents.

John points his gun to a point above us. When he shoots, I yelp of the loud sound. Pete starts to laugh. ‘I’m impressed,’ he tells him in a sarcastic tone.

I hear something, but I can’t really place it. But before I know it, I’m being pushed forward with such a force. Pete releases his grip on me and I topple over the floor. I open my eyes, to see Pete laying on the floor, but I see a flash in front of my eyes and hear a loud gunshot. I let out a scream when I see that Pete is bleeding from his forehead, but I feel two strong and familiar hands on my arms.

‘Darcie,’ John says in such a soft voice, that it’s hard to believe that he just killed a couple of guys, ‘I’m here. Don’t look at that.’ He pulls me up and engulfs me in his arms. His fingers go through my hair and then I let it all out. ‘I’ve got you, sweetheart,’ he whispers in my ear.

‘I thought I was gonna die,’ I mumble against his neck, his hard bullet proof vest not giving me access to his soft shirt.

‘Not on my watch,’ he says, kissing my wet cheek. He holds onto my face and gives me a long kiss on my lips. ‘God, I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you, baby.’

John lets go of me and pulls out a knife. He frees my wrists from the restraints and kisses them tenderly. He stands up to help my parents, but he holds out his hand for me to take. Since I don’t want to leave his side anymore, knowing that I’m the safest when I’m with him, I eagerly hold onto his hand and walk behind him. I stare at a long wooden beam that is still attached to the ceiling, but cracks every time it swings a bit. That must’ve been what John shot at, that must’ve been what launched both me and Pete to the front.

John cuts through the zip ties and when he checks out my moms wrist, he says: ‘We should get that checked.’

He stands up and pulls out a card. He brings his phone to his ear, but then he wraps an arm around my frame. I close my eyes, while I hear him say: ‘This is Wick. I’d like to make a dinner reservation for six on behave of the Continental.’

Taglist: @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @flhorah​ @allie1804-fan @cynic-spirit​ @raven-black102

[underoossss]

Dancing Under the Rain - H.O

CHAPTER 1 [prologue]

pairing: detective!Harrison x female reader

warning: some angst but the fluff makes up for it, mentions of death

AN: this takes place a little bit after the prologue, I hope you guys like it. I would love some feedback

--- 

The cool, salty breeze surrounds you and takes all of your worries to the sea. They float over the water and go beyond the horizon until you can’t see them anymore. That’s what your grandma used to say, anyways. She used to live in Maine and you visited her every summer with your brother. She took both of you to the beach every morning to watch your grandpa’s boat in the distance as he returned from fishing lobsters. Grandma is gone now, so is grandpa. Your mom had said it was the heartbreak because of your brother’s death; she had moved to Maine shortly after that. She left you alone in Cambridge to finish university and then move on to grad school, because that’s what parents with money do. They think money solves everything and anything. That’s why you loved your grandma, she thought the sea and the breeze solved things. They don’t. They haven’t yet, so jury’s still out.

You squint your eyes at the sun and take a deep breath, then a gentle squeeze on your hand brings you back to the present. “This reminds me of my grandparents.” You smile at the sea before looking to your right and meeting Harrison’s gaze.

The detective looks so different than how he did eight month before. His shoulders don’t look so tense, his face is relaxed and there’s an easy smile on his lips. He looks content just by standing there staring at the ocean with a cream colored sweater and jeans; a stark contrast to his usual button downs and suit jackets. You like seeing him like this, projecting his soft character out to the world, something he’d only done some mornings when talking to you at the bookshop.

---

The bell on top of the main door rings as someone steps into the bookshop. It isn’t normal for you to close the door, but it was a chilly October morning and there’s nothing worse than your coffee growing cold right after it’s served. You look up from the book you had been reading behind the counter and smile when you noticed Harrison was sitting down by the window.  The smile only lasts for a few seconds though and soon changes into a frown when you notice his demeanor. You can practically see the stress coming from him and that is enough for you to move towards the expresso machine and start making his usual coffee. A latte with no sugar but some cinnamon on top, unlike the rest of the officers who routinely ordered americanos. ‘Too bitter,’ Harrison had said when you pointed it out once.

The coffee is ready a few minutes later and you make your way to his table also carrying a plate with a ham and cheese flatbread you had toasted for him. He’s resting his elbows on the table when you reach him, his hands are in his hair and his eyes are closed. “Good morning.” You say, placing the plate and mug in front of him.

You take a sit across from him, there weren’t many customers in the shop and everyone already had their order. Besides, Harrison looked like he needed to talk to someone.

“You look stressed.” You tilt your head to your right, frowning slightly at the dark circles under his eyes. “And like you haven’t eaten in two days.” Your eyes move down to the flatbread in front of him, a silent way of saying ‘eat.’

“You shouldn’t have bothered.” Harrison finally speaks up, getting rid of his initial shock of you probably reading his mind and getting his order for him without asking first.

“I won’t hear any of it. Go on, the best detective in town needs food to think.”

Harrison opens and closes his mouth, pausing for a second to debate what he’s going to say next but settles with shaking his head. “Is it really that bad?”

“You want me to be honest?” You lean your chin on the palm of your hand and smile when Harrison nods. He picks up the sandwich and takes a bite, it gives a satisfying crunch and the detective sighs at the taste.

“You look like you could use a whole week of sleep and a month of yoga for how stressed you look, detective.” A chuckle leaves your lips when he rolls his eyes.

“Please, YN, call me Harrison.” Harrison shakes his head, covering his mouth with his hand as he chews. After a few seconds he swallows and wipes his mouth with the napkin next to his plate. He leans forward and lowers his voice to speak again. “We haven’t gotten any new leads in a while, and the evidence so far is only circumstantial. It’s taken a toll on all of us.”

You nod your head in understanding before voicing your worries to him. “It’s good that you’re taking a break then. You can’t let the case drain you Harrison, it won’t do you or anyone any good.”

“I just need to solve this case, Y/N, that family is depending on us, on me to get answers. I can’t imagine their despair, and how much worse it would be if whoever did it gets away with it.” He shakes his head, putting the sandwich down again and picking up his coffee.

Your breath catches in your throat for a second. The worst case scenario he is trying to prevent is something you had already lived. Seeing it now from an outside perspective, having first-hand experience of that unbearable pain, you understand Harrison’s urgency to bring this family some peace of mind. You constantly wish you knew who did that to your brother and you don’t wish that pain upon anyone. Well, anyone except for the person who did it. That bastard’s the only one who deserves it.

Harrison sighs at the delicious coffee smell, his shoulders relaxing the tiniest bit and his features softening. He takes another sip of the coffee before speaking again, “This is really good. As always.” He smiles slightly, though his eyes still look a bit lost when they meet yours. His smile is enough to push the bitter thought to the back of your mind.

“I wish more people in the world could be like you.” You smile, shaking your head a bit. Your heart bursts with fondness towards the detective in front of you. You’re in awe of his selflessness when it comes to helping others, his determination and his strength. A lot of people might have given up at this point so it is reassuring to know how resilient Harrison is when it comes to this case. To know there are people who care enough to pull all nighters so they can try to help others. If only they had assigned your brother’s case a detective like that.

Harrisons eyebrows furrow at your words so you decide to elaborate. “Someone who genuinely cares about others’ wellbeing. I can tell how much this case means to you.”

He nods his head and for a brief moment, his face sheds the mask he wears all day long as a detective. It softens and his smile is more genuine than it had ever been, though it looks a bit broken like there’s something else stressing him out than just this case. “Thank you, for everything Y/N. Although, you’re giving me too much credit. You care about others’ wellbeing too. This is being an example.” He gestures towards his now empty plate and half drank coffee cup.

‘Are you feeling better?” You ask, resting your chin on your palm. Your ears feel like they’re on fire at his compliment. I care about you.

The detective nods his head. “Much better, and not only because of the food.”

You laugh softly, looking down. Gosh you really like him. “I’m glad.”

----

“It does?” He tilts his head to the right, a subtle invitation to elaborate if you wished to do so.

“Mhm, they lived in Maine. My grandfather had a lobster fishing business and my grandma did all the selling for him.” You move your gaze back to the ocean. “My brother and I used to wait with my grandma at the beach for him to come back every morning.”

“Was this in the summer?” Harrison asks, his voice is soft. It’s as if he doesn’t want to disturb the memory you’re replaying in your mind. You nod your head and he squeezes your hand again. “It must have been nice.”

“It was.” You nod your head again and smile at him. It’s one of the memories that brings you joy, which is unusual considering all memories you brother in it make your heart ache. “This is a good look on you, you know.”

Harrison chuckles, looking down at his clothes. “Don’t miss my suit and tie?”

“I don’t mean the clothes specifically.” You shake your head at him. “It’s not very often I see you this relaxed. I like it.”

The detective takes a deep breath and basks in the sun for a few seconds before meeting your gaze once more. “There’s no case urging me to solve it at the moment, that’s probably why.”

“Even if you had a case to solve right now, you deserve little breaks you know.” You tug at his hand and continue walking along the shore. Your shoes are on your right hand and your feet are cold as they leave their prints on the sand, it’s lovely.

“Not working… it leaves you alone with your thoughts.” Harrison’s voice is quiet again, like he doesn’t want you to hear it. But you do and you understand what he means. “I don’t like that.”

“I get that.” You say looking down at the sand. “I used to be afraid of having any free time because that meant I had time to think about things I’d rather pretend didn’t happen.”

Neither of you speak for a minute or so before you take a deep breath and look at Harrison. He was already looking at you which brings you face to face with worried blue eyes. “That time you asked me questions for the case and I told you there was a death in my family and that’s why I moved here… It was my brother. Bryan.”

Harrison opens his mouth to say something but you shake your head. You trust him and for some reason you think he’s the only person in this whole town that you can talk to. Really talk to. If this thing between the two of you is going somewhere, he needs to know, so he can choose if he wants to back out while he can. “Someone killed him, they found him at the soccer field after practice. They, umm, they never caught the person who did it and closed the case. My family was known among a lot of people so everyone found out. I fled and came here the moment I finished grad school. Fresh start.” You feel Harrison’s hand slip out of yours and before your heart can despair he puts his arm around your shoulders and brings you closer to his side. “So, I know what it’s like to be alone with your thoughts. I used to be afraid of falling back into grieving my brother but things like this bring you joy and eventually make all sad thoughts go away.”

The breeze.

It might not solve things like your grandma said but it helps.

You hear Harrison take a deep breath and you look up at him again to see worry in his eyes. “I’m alright though, I think I’m getting better at handling it. But not knowing… it doesn’t help with the pain. I think that’s why my mom left Cambridge too, to avoid the uncertainty coming from everywhere she looked.” You shrug your shoulders and let out a long breath, feeling a heavy weight lift from your chest. Not all of the pent up pain, but still enough to let you breathe more easily than before. It is only then when you realize how much you needed to talk to someone about it, needed someone to know. Someone finally knows I’m not all smiles as the town believes.

You realize Harrison’s been quiet for a while, so you look up at him again to try to reassure him. There’s a tightness around in his eyes and his jaw is clenched while he looks at the ground. “Hey, don’t be so worried I’ll be fine.”

“Let’s have a seat over here.” He says quietly, and clearing his throat. He avoids your eyes and looks at the sea instead, his hair is being pushed back by the wind and his eyes still squinted at the sun. It almost looks like he’s in pain. You nod, feeling anxious at his change of demeanor all of a sudden but settle down on the sand anyways, tugging on his hand so he can sit too.

Harrison sighs, letting go of your hand as he starts fiddling with his fingers instead. He opens his mouth as if to say something but he stops himself before he can speak. This happens three times before you get so worried you have to say something. “Harrison please say something, it’s me you’re worrying now.”

He nods, still not looking at you and clearing his throat again. “About 3 years ago I was an assistant DI for a case, a woman had been murdered and it was one mess of a case. Our leads were dead ends and after a year the detective in charge of the case closed it. He didn’t keep trying to solve it and left this family with unimaginable grief in their hearts. I felt so disappointed in our team, my worst fear had come true, I wasn’t enough and let people down. We failed them and a killer stayed on the loose. I begged our superiors to let me finish working the case but it didn’t work.”

He swallows loudly, like it it’s hard to do so. The way it is when you’ve got a knot in your throat that hurts whenever you speak.  “The look on their face still haunts me. They were so disappointed, they cried and asked us over and over again to open the case. I work so hard on cases now because I want to be a better detective than I was three years ago. I want to prove myself that I’m not the poor excuse of a detective I think I am… and yet it took me eight months to solve this case.”

“But you solved it.” You speak up, not wanting to hear him talk himself down like this anymore. You’re shaking your head, you know firsthand how much having a case closed and not getting the answers you need can hurt. But it wasn’t Harrison that closed it, he tried to get it open again, and solve it for that family. The fact that he tried shows the kind of person he is, what an honorable detective he’s always been even before you knew him.

“I almost didn’t… I’m what has caused you so much pain, Y/N. A pathetic detective that get cases solved by sheer luck. One that didn’t solve that murder case and couldn’t give that family any answers.”

“It’s not luck! I’ve seen you work, I’ve even been interrogated by you and your team so I know firsthand your thought process and your quick way of thinking, your perseverance and your kindness. All of that combined makes you better than any other detective in all of England. You haven’t caused me any pain, you know who did? The person that killed my brother and broke my family. It wasn’t you!”

You both stay silent for a minute, your eyebrows furrowed in anger and pain. It hurt you to know that this is how Harrison thinks of himself, when he is nothing other than wonderful. We all have insecurities, but the proof of his abilities is right in front of his eyes yet he fails to see how many people he helps. Then there’s the fact that he thinks you’d change your opinion of him because he couldn’t solve a case years ago because his superiors closed it and somehow blames himself for your pain ever since your brother died.

“Is this your way of saying that this won’t happen?” You gesture between you two, your hand cold now that Harrison isn’t holding it. “Because I want it to happen, I want to give us a shot. I’ve denied myself from being happy for so long and when I’m with you I feel all the happiness I thought I’d never feel again.” Your eyes stay staring at the horizon, your heart is hurting and you’re willing the pain to leave with the breeze. Go to the ocean, leave me alone.

“I want it to happen too.” Harrison speaks up, you see him shake his head from the corner of your eye. “I fell for you months ago and I’ve wanted to hold your hand ever since. I just… You can do so much better.”

You turn your body to face him, your eyebrows still furrowed and all your emotions probably showing in your eyes. “Don’t put me in a pedestal, Harrison.” Your hands reach for his face, letting his eyes linger on yours. “I’m far from perfect and so are you but we can’t let the past keep haunting us. I know problems don’t just fly away, but I think we’re both done with facing them alone.”

Harrison closes his eyes, his face falling as your words sink in. He’s so lonely, he’s terrified of not being alone anymore. If only he knew I’m just as scared. You feel tears come to your eyes, why are the kindest and most selfless people the ones who get hurt the most? You press your forehead against his and take a deep breath to keep yourself from crying. It’s quiet again, except for the crashing of the waves and the eventual cries of some seagulls. The sun shines brightly above the two of you, you can feel the heat on your skin and the salty breezy surrounds the two of you again. It’s trying to take all this sadness away and leave us with the happiness and love I feel for you instead, you think to yourself.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” Harrison speaks up, his voice is quiet between the two of you. His hand comes up to you cheek as he moves away to look into your eyes. “I want to be with you, I really want this.”

You give him a watery smile, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “Me too.”

“You have no idea how happy I am when I am with you.” His thumb caresses your cheek as he returns your smile. “One smile and I’m a goner.”

You chuckle at his words, your cheeks are burning but you can’t look away from his eyes. “I can say the same thing about your eyes. I also really like it when you come to the bookshop.”

“Well, I always want to see you.” Harrison says softly, his forehead comes back to rest against yours. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

“Like another date?” You ask and then smile when he nods his head. “I’d love to.”

“Well then.” He says standing up, holding his hand out to you and helping you get up. “How does Mrs. Pacelli’s sound?”

You twine your fingers and swing your hands back and forth as you walk west, back to town. Your stomach grumbles in agreement and you smile at the thought of Mrs. Pacelli’s homemade lasagna right away. “It sounds amazing, her place is actually my favorite restaurant in town.”

Harrison chuckles and nods, “It is really great but my favorite place is further down the street.” He brings your hand to his lips for brief second before smiling down at you. “It’s a lovely bookshop with the best coffee.”

“Not a restaurant, though.” You smile back, heart beating wildly in your chest. The blue of Harrison’s eyes is even lovelier now that some of his worry was left behind at that spot in the sand; you can’t help but stare.

“You’re right, it’s not. But it is my favorite place, almost as beautiful as the owner.” Harrison shrugs as if he didn’t just flirt with you for the first time since you’ve known each other.

You push some hair behind your ear and lean your head on his shoulder, not used to what you’re feeling. Not after so long at least. Neither of you are perfect and you never will be, you’ve been shaped by your past and it’s left a scar in both of your hearts. Not letting it control your future though, that’s what makes all the difference. You had given up on love and happiness for years, but as your stomach buzzes with excitement and you feel those emotions again you can’t help but be glad that you took the chance. Uncertainty is usually scary, and you know more than anyone how much helplessness it can bring. This time however, something tells you that things will start to look up and even if you don’t know where this will lead, you’re not scared anymore.

Maybe the breeze does solve some things after all grandma

--- 

if you want to be tagged, let me know!

[dreamcatcherfication]

Skin Deep - Round Three

I have no idea why this part was so hard for me to write, I just couldn’t sit down and get it out. Somehow, I managed, and here’s part three! Only one more part and an epilogue guys, we’re almost done with this one! Please don’t get mad at me if the court scenes are unrealistic, I really have no accurate basis of what a trial would look like. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my brother is blasting the doomsday alarm on an endless loop.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Heavy talk about rape and sexual assault, victim blaming, slut shaming

Part 1 | Part 2

It was trial day. The courtroom was a lot smaller than Law and Order had led Cathy to believe, and it wasn’t doing well to soothe anyone’s nerves. Kit was sitting with her back straight at one of the desks in front of the judge and the jury, attempting to keep any emotion off her face. Beside Kit were Aragon’s lawyers, Maria and Joan, two highly educated women in pristine suits. While their presence didn’t do anything to quell Kit’s nerves, they weren’t doing anything to agitate her, which was honestly all she could ask for.

Sitting off to the side were Cathy and Anne, waiting for court to officially start. They were supposed to be witnesses for the case, along with Jane, Anna, and Aragon who were sitting with them. Maggie and Bessie were in the back of the room, watching and waiting. At the other table sat Thomas Culpeper in a dapper suit, his hair gelled back and his eyes stony. He had some dime a dozen lawyer next to him, ready to argue every possible point he could get his hands on. Off on the other side of the room was Francis Dereham, the main witness for Culpeper’s defense. 

The judge sat up on a podium with a fancy chair, the bags under his eyes visible to everyone in the courtroom. “I am Judge Cranmer. Today we are here to see the case of Culpeper vs Howard. We shall start with the accused.”

Culpeper’s lawyer stood up and made his way to the center of the courtroom floor. “Thank you Judge Cranmer. Now, as you all know, my client has been accused of sexually assaulting and attempting to rape Miss Howard,” he explained, “But these charges are all false! Miss Howard,” he pointed his hand at Kit, “is lying about what happened. She was the one to come onto Mr. Culpeper. He was not at fault and is being falsely accused of a crime he did not commit.”

“Objection your honor!” Maria stood up, her face growing red.

“Overruled,” Cranmer shushed Maria. He seemed very interested in what Culpeper’s lawyer had to say.

Silently thanking the judge, Culpeper’s lawyer continued. Cathy had to hold back the sick feeling in her stomach as he started preaching falsities to the judge and jury. “Miss Howard is playing innocent, when really she is a vixen. In fact, we can prove it. Mr. Dereham!” he spun around, pointing at the man in question. “I’m calling you to the stand.”

Disguising a smirk on his face, Dereham made his way to the witness stand, winking at Cathy and the others as he passed. Jane gasped in disgust, turning her head away from him. Once Dereham was up and situated on the stand, they got straight into questioning. “Mr. Dereham, you told me that you have had sexual relations with Miss Howard before.”

“Indeed I have,” he answered.

This time it was Joan who stood up. “Objection your honor!”

“Overruled,” Cranmer dismissed her. Watching the absolute horror that descended onto Anne’s face hurt Cathy more than she would’ve thought. Her girlfriend looked devastated at Kit’s reaction to Dereham, and it only further proved that things were far worse than they initially thought. 

Pacing back and forth, the lawyer started asking questions. “How do you and Miss Howard know each other?”

The charismatic smile on Dereham’s face was disgusting and unnatural with the way it never changed. “Last year I was the judge at one of Katherine’s beauty pageants. To make sure she won, Katherine came to me as the results were being deliberated. She forced herself onto me, hoping she could bribe me with sexual acts. She had her way with me, and said that if I didn’t make sure she won, she would accuse me of raping her.”

If any of the jury had an ounce of common sense, they would see the tears in Kit’s eyes and know immediately Dereham was lying. That’s what Cathy hoped, at least. Kit seemed so terrified for the usually confident beauty queen. Or maybe she was never confident and had just learned to hide it really well. 

The questioning dragged on as tensions rose. Cathy could feel the anger and fear radiating throughout the room from every person. Finally, Culpeper’s lawyer was done and it was Kit’s turn. Maria and Joan stood up together and nodded before addressing Cranmer. “Your honor, we would like to call up the victim,” Maria stressed the word, “Katherine Howard, to the stand.” Cranmer agreed and Kit was led up to the box for questioning.

Both the lawyers gave Kit kind smiles to ease her anxiety. The three of them knew this was going to get messy. “Seeing as we were unprepared for Mr. Dereham’s accusations, would you like to tell us your version of the events Miss Howard?”

Swallowing and giving the tiniest nod, Kit began to speak. “I was at the beauty pageant my father had signed me up for,” she started, her eyes darting out in the benches before landing on her father. “Mr. Dereham was one of the judges, but I never tried to seduce him,” Kit hardened her face. “My father encouraged that I talk to him, so I did. It was Mr. Dereham who started to put his hands on me. At first I didn’t say anything, because I thought he was admiring my costume. He was charming, and I thought it was alright,” Kit admitted, glancing down at her hands. “But then he started to touch me more in places I didn’t like, and I didn’t know what to do so I stopped and,” her breath hitched as she froze. “I let it happen,” Kit choked out.

All the rage Cathy never thought she had was coming out. She wanted to get up and punch Dereham in the face, she wanted to wring Culpeper by his neck until his face turned blue. Instead of doing any of that, Cathy put a hand on Anne’s knee in order to keep her calm. Glancing to the side, Cathy and Aragon made eye contact. This is wrong, Aragon mouthed to her, abhorrence written across her face. 

I know, Cathy mouthed back before turning her attention back to the stand. She could only imagine the fury Anna must have been feeling as she watched her best friend admit to being sexually abused. “And with Mr. Culpeper?” Joan asked, her fingers drumming on the side of her blazer.

“This time I did say no,” Kit mumbled into the microphone. “He asked me to come see him in the judging room because something was off with the votes. I thought maybe they had spelled my name wrong, that happens a lot, so I followed him. But he locked the door and started undressing and I panicked.” Taking a moment to breath, Kit stilled her face. “I told him to stop,” her voice was a thick monotone, “And he didn’t. He ripped my clothing open and almost had his way with me before my cousin Anne Boleyn and her girlfriend, Catherine Parr came into the room and saw what was happening. Parr went and got my friend Anna while two of the student judges, Catherine de Aragon and Jane Seymour called the police.”

Anne was in awe of her cousin’s ability to tell the story. Cathy knew Anne didn’t think of her cousin as weak, but Kit was known for having anxiety problems that made her freeze up or spiral. Anna was smiling proudly off to the side, her heart swelling at the sight of Kitty. “Thank you Miss Howard,” Joan helped her out of the box and led her back to the defense’s table. 

Maria addressed Cranmer, “Now we would like to call up the other witnesses. Anne Boleyn, please come before the court.” 

That was how the trial progressed, with every witness being called up to provide a first account of the events they were a part of. When Cathy stepped into the box, she couldn’t help but feel the anxiety of all her friends fall onto her shoulders. It was terrifying, having everyone’s attention on her, knowing that her account of the events could make or break the case.

After what felt like hours, Judge Cranmer called a recess. Anne went to talk to Aragon, Jane and Anna approached Cathy, and Kit left the room to use the bathroom. “She’s handling this well,” Anna commented, nervously casting a glance towards the hallway where Kit had disappeared down. “Especially being around them,” she refused to say the men’s names. 

Jane rubbed her wrist as if it was in pain. “I didn’t think I’d be able to handle sitting in that box, and I didn’t have much to share. I can’t imagine what it’s like for her.”

Cathy didn’t respond, her eyes watching Anne and Aragon in the corner. She couldn’t hear their conversation, but both of them looked frustrated. Aragon was holding her composure, but Anne seemed to be venting all her rage at the other girl. Before Cathy could make her way over and break up the argument, Aragon said something that made Anne stop cold. For a moment, Cathy was afraid Aragon had said something inappropriate that would cause Anne to snap, but then Anne threw her arms around Aragon in a hug. It was awkward, and neither girl seemed to particularly like it, but it was a gesture of goodwill they both needed.

A feeling of pride welled up in Cathy’s chest at her girlfriend. She and Aragon had been at odds since the day of the incident, and even the smallest step toward forgiving each other for whatever happened in their past was a good thing. “I’m going to the bathroom,” Cathy told Anna and Jane without taking her gaze off of Aragon and Anne. “I think this might be my only opportunity to slip away from Anne before -”

“Before she becomes clingy girlfriend bot 2000, I know what she’s like,” Anna shoved Cathy’s shoulder lightly. “Go on, we’ll cover for you.”

Quietly thanking Anna, Cathy bolting out of the courtroom and into the hall. If Aragon was distracting Anne, it gave Cathy the perfect opportunity to sneak out and empty her bladder. The bathrooms were down the hall and around the corner, pretty secluded from the rest of the court. Making her way to the bathroom, Cathy was about to turn the corner when she heard voices. Stopping, she leaned against the wall and peered around the corner.

Edmund Howard was leering over his daughter, his face red with anger as he scolded her. “How dare, how dare you!”

“I’m sorry,” Kit whispered, her eyes trained on the floor.

“Don’t apologize you stupid slut!” Cathy wanted to barge in, but she knew that wouldn’t do any good. Edmund would pretend like nothing had happened and Cathy wouldn’t have any way to help Kit. So Cathy pulled out her phone and started recording the scene. “You say this was my fault, and then accuse two perfectly dignified men of your crime? You’re a disgrace Katherine.”

Still unable to look in her father’s eyes, Kit mumbled, “It’s not my crime, it’s their fault. I didn’t consent. That’s illegal.”

“Thomas and Francis were doing as I told them,” Edmund growled, bending down so Kit had to look in his eyes. “The only way you would ever win is if I do all the hard work for you.” Cathy had to restrain herself from attacking the man then and there. He was admitting to a crime, and her video could be the one thing that helped Kit put Dereham and Culpeper in prison. 

The look of pure betrayal behind Kit’s eyes made Cathy want to scream. “You what?” she asked, the syllables broken apart.

Edmund spit like fire, uncaring about how he hurt his daughter. “We needed that prize money, and the only way you were going to win it was if the judges had a reason to pick you. It’s surprisingly easy to whore you out to these men.”

“It’s my body!” Kit exploded, stepping away from her father. “You can’t sell me to them for money.”

“I can, I will, and you won’t say anything about it,” Edmund towered over his daughter. And with that, he spun around and stalked back to the courtroom. Panicking, Cathy nearly dropped her phone as she hurled herself into a nearby storage closet. When the shadow of Edmund had passed, Cathy released the breath she had been holding. She had video evidence of Edmund admitting what he had done. If this didn’t help Kit win, she didn’t know what would.

The small shuffling of feet outside the door signaled that Kit was passing by. Once the girl was gone, Cathy moved to open the door. She tried turning the knob in different directions, but it wouldn’t budge. Starting to freak out, Cathy pulled on the door harder and harder. It didn’t budge. Cathy was trapped.

“Anne’s hairpin,” Cathy murmured, praying that she had her girlfriend’s hairpin from earlier that day. She had picked it up off the ground when it fell out of Anne’s hair, and Cathy prayed it hadn’t fallen from her pocket or gotten lost. Shoving her hands in her pockets, Cathy rifled through lint and lost belongings in search of the pin. 

Luck was on her side, and she pulled out the pin. Straightening it out, Cathy got to work picking the lock. This was the second time her lockpicking skills had come in handy recently, and it gave her a strange sense of deja vu to be back in this position. Except this time she was trying to get out instead of in. 

Nearly falling into the hallway as the door swung open, Cathy gasped. She had done it, and now she could present her evidence to the court. Sprinting back up the hallway, Cathy saw the closed doors and realized that court was back in session. Ignoring proper etiquette, Cathy burst through the doors with her phone held up for everyone to see.

“Katherine Howard did nothing wrong. And I can prove it.”

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

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree@boleynhowards@annabanana2401@babeebobo@dont-lose-your-queerhead@everything-insanity@mindless-pidgeon

[captainofthebrokentides]

Briefcases and Bloodsplatter: Chapter 3: How do you catch a cold? Benny Colon x OC

Here’s the third installment, sorry it’s taken so long to get out, it’s a  crazy time to be part of the NHS, i just want wait to get my life back to normal. at least I can indulge elsewhere! please enjoy!!

TAC was quiet when Liv finally tip toed her way into the office.

Screen panels were all lit up, but there was no one to be found anywhere. Maybe I missed a meeting? Surely Benny would have told me? She tried to shrug off the nagging feeling of guilt from her little over sleeping blunder and made her way to the lab.

Now she knew where almost everyone was. There was a big crowd standing outside, peering in to the big glass windows. Danny and Chunk stood guard at either side of the door.

“Morning sleepyhead. I’m glad you’re here, I need a coffee.” Chunk greeted her with a warm smile and a small side hug.

“Morning.” Liv looked at the cluster of people and raised her eyebrows, “What’s with the audience?”

“A delivery for you arrived about 15 minutes ago.” Danny waved her and through the door and Liv cautiously poked her head inside the lab.

Inside, on a new marble autopsy table, sat a silver box, large enough to hold a human. Alyssa Yang to be precise. The room had been completely renovated into a makeshift mortuary, bottles of chemicals lined the desks and sinks at either end of the table. Everything looked completely up to standard, which was impressive for a makeshift job.

“Do you guys have little building elves in here or something?” She asked, both Danny and Chunk laughed.

“Never underestimate TAC … or Marissa.” Chunk chuckled.

Danny started to usher the crowd of people away, reminding them that they had work to do before everyone gets back. She toughed a switch on a panel beside the door and the glass instantly frosted, giving the lab the illusion of privacy.

“So where is everyone, other than you guys, obviously?”

They entered the lab and closed the door behind them. Chunk and Danny lingered by her desk while Liv checked through the paperwork and ID tags attached to the box.

“It’s Voire Dire day, they’re at the courthouse. They should be back in an hour or so, they left at 8.”

Liv’s dark eyes flicked up the clock on the wall, the hands pointed out that it was 9:40, clear as day. Shit! I didn’t realise it was that late. Bull is going to fire me before I’ve even started to help, and I was just beginning to like it here.

Her face obviously betrayed her thoughts, Chunk laughed a little under his breath and smiled at her warmly. “It’s ok, we all get it. You’ve come a long way, you’ve barely been here 2 days, and we kept you out pretty late.”

“Bull’s going to kill me isn’t he?” the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach clenched.

The stylist grinned mischievously “No, don’t worry, Benny covered for you expertly.” His eyes sparkled. “Our boy seems to have a bit of a soft spot for you. Did he get you home safe?”

Danny rolled her eyes, but smiled at the banter. “I’ll go get us all coffee.”

“Thank you!” Liv welcomed the distraction, but Chunk was having none of it, installing himself in her desk chair.

“I’m waiting.”

“Hmm?” Liv had hoped it’d be the end of the conversation, as she started to wash her hands and gather her protective gear.

“Benny. He got you back ok? You were a little light headed when the pair of you fell into the cab.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. “How much of a tit did I make of myself? Go on, I can take it.”

Chunk laughed heartily and shook his head, “You didn’t mama, You were just dog tired.”

“Mmm everything was a bit of a blur.” It wasn’t. She remembered everything.

 In the cab they’d talked about their families in hushed tones, their heads bowed together, little fingers linked on the seat between them. When they had pulled up to the hotel, he’d told the driver to hold and left everything in the back seat. They’d waited for the lift, but got bored quickly and had ended up racing each other up the four flights of stairs both collapsing at the top, out of breath and laughing uncontrollably. The normally immaculate Benny was showing signs of wear and tear, the longer pieces of his hair had started to move from their perfectly coiffed position, a few sections dangling in his eyes. When they finally made it to her door, he’d given her a hug, his smell of sandalwood and leather engulfing her, an kissed her on the cheek bidding her good night. And then she had the dream.

Her cheeks fought a flare of heat as she remembered her dream about him.

“He was very sweet though.”

Chunk nodded. “He’s the king of chivalry.”

Danny re-entered the room clutching three cups of coffee. All talk of Benny’s charming traits died off. Liv had begun to feel a kinship with Chunk, like he was becoming her unofficial work brother, but she knew Danny preferred to keep personal life stuff just that, personal.

“Coffee. We’ve gotta clear out of here, we’re under instructions from boss man. Good luck Liv. You’ve got until 1, and then the body has to go the prosecution.”

“Thanks Danny.” Live gave them a last smile before strapping her mask on. “That’s plenty of time.”

They left her alone in the room, Chunk shooting her a wink on his way out the door.

Fully dressed in protective wear, Liv lifted the lid and sides off the box, exposing Alyssa’s battered body. She ran a finger long the mottled skin of her arm. “I’ll try and be as gentle as I can honey, you’ve seen enough pain.”

 ***

 “You must have spent a fortune on these nails.” Liv said as she slid a swab under the long, finally manicured nails. “They are very pretty, I used to make sure my nails were always nice too, before I started doing my job.” She placed the swab in a tube, and noted the number in her log. “They tend to frown on you having painted nails when you work in a crime lab.” She repeated the same process on Alyssa’s other hand.

“I think it’s got something to do with possible evidence contamination.”

Liv smiled hearing Benny’s voice, and looked up from Alyssa’s body, he was looking Dapper in a steel grey three piece suit with a white shirt and cobalt blue tie. His olive skin was perfect and showed absolutely no signs of their late night. He shot her a dazzling smile, his dark brown eyes alight.

“That’s exactly right,” Liv looked back down at the body. She’d finally examined all she could without performing a full autopsy, which would have been deemed unnecessary, she was trying to find evidence that Brandon Peters couldn’t have been her murderer, not checking underlying conditions. “Although I don’t think you’d have needed to think about that in your line of work, would you. I’d have chosen another career path if I was you though, drugs are dangerous.”

“You know, I think I used to watch a tv show where the medical examiner talked to their ….” He trailed off, not wanting to be insensitive, but waved his hand in the direction of her body.

“I think I know the one. It’s a common thing, I think it keeps us sane. And gives us a bit of purpose.”

He nodded, still keeping his distance from her and the table. She laughed lightly.

“She’s not going to bite you Benny, and neither will I, unless you ask nicely.”

Benny’s eyes widened and his eyebrows leapt into his hairline for a few seconds while he processed what she’s just said. He grinned, and took a step closer to them. “Oh, I’ll be sure to.”

Liv was so glad the mask covered all but her eyes, as she flushed a hot pink and her belly twisted, she bit her lip, hidden under the fabric. A little snippet of him, gliding his tongue across her collar bone from her dream the night before exploded into her head. Luckily she wasn’t holding anything in her hands, or she’d have dropped it. She closed her eyes briefly and took a steadying breath, when she opened them again he was smirking.

She tried desperately to clear the cloud of her mind.

“How was voire dire?”

Benny cleared his throat and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Stressful. Rutledge is an asshole that thinks he knows best. We’ve got a good jury though. Should be sympathise with our client. Can’t ask for much more really.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning on her desk and crossed his ankles. He watched Liv as she busied herself washing down Alyssa’s body, and closing the silver transport case. “We’ve got a good mirror jury too. Hopefully it’ll help.”

“You know,” Live said as she fiddled with the clasps on the case, looking up at him briefly through her eyelashes. “Until I started working closer with court cases, I had no idea voire dire was a thing. I’ve never seen it done. I don’t know what I’d say, if I was doing it.”

“It’s all word play really. Structure the questions so they seem benign but get what you want from the underlying answers. Bull is very good at crafting the right questions.”

Liv nodded and started peeling away her protective clothing, revealing her flattering dark blue jeans and black blouse with its matching camisole. She’d picked the outfit deliberately. It showed off just the right amount of flesh and curve to be enticing, but not too exposing that nothing would be left to the imagination. She grinned internally as Benny subtly looked her up and down with praising eyes.

“What kind of questions?”

“Why do you catch a cold?” He took a deep breath, but the words of his next question almost ran together “Do you want to come for lunch with me.”

Liv looked at him over her shoulder while she washed and dried her hands.

“That’s a strange question. The cold one … not the lunch one.”

Benny shrugged. “It worked though. And would you? The lunch. Not the cold.” He gave her a winning smile.

She felt like a teenager, being asked to the prom by the boy she fancied. “Lunch would be good.” She was impressed with herself. Her babbling was under control, and her confidence with him was soaring.

“Perfect. Are you ready now? There’s a really nice Italian place just down the block.”

Liv moved the box of tubes into the fridge, and grabbed her handbag.

“Italian sounds great. We’ll just need to leave the keys with Marissa so the prosecution can collect her at one.”

They left the lab and Liv locked the door behind her. Benny leaned against the glass wall next to her, their arms touching, the proximity welcomed by both of them. He watched her with those intense eyes, a playful smile on his lips.

“So tell me, why would you catch a cold?” his voice was hushed, so only the two of them would hear it.

She felt that unfamiliar wave of confidence crash into her again, and liv chose to embrace it. She looked back at him, her eyes shining with mischief.

“Me? I’d catch a cold from kissing in the rain.” She shrugged it off as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, and started to walk down the corridor, leaving Benny, who was frozen in his place, eyes wide.

@reelovesbennycolon​ i hope this helps brighten your day. :)

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Daniel Michaelson: Trembling

(for @whumptober2019, Day 20: Trembling TW: serious violence/torture, SW: creepy whumper thoughts, Abraham Denner is a bad bad man)

“Am, am I doing okay so far?” The man’s blue eyes are wide, moving from one lawyer to another, a constant dance of seeking approval and reassurance from anyone he can see. 

Of course, no one in the courtroom can see the lawyers he is looking at, only him - he is the center of the frame, wavy red hair falling nearly to his eyes, scarred hands flat on the table but visibly shaking even through the digital image projected on the screen.

“You’re doing great, Mr. Michaelson. We just need to keep going, okay? Do you think you’ll be fine to continue?”

The man slowly nods. “I, I can try to keep going.” The warm blue eyes are rimmed in red by now - his testimony includes several edits and jump-cuts, and the jury doesn’t see the tears but they do see the way his face has changed, over time, from nervous but resolute to sniffing and uncertain and finally to frightened and eager to smooth over whatever offense he thinks he might have caused by not being perfect enough.

He doesn’t give up, he never stops trying.

He’s trying so hard to be brave, and it’s so fucking beautiful.

He’s being such a good boy, and Abraham wishes he were right here in the courtroom so he could tell him so right to his face.

Abraham Denner can nearly feel those tear tracks that shimmer only a little in the soulless fluorescent lights, the way they would give the slightest damp warmth if he ran his thumb down pretty red scar dug deep into his cheekbone, down the softer skin below it, all the way to his jaw. 

He could picture how Red would hold himself so still, trembling under Abraham’s touch, but he would never flinch or pull away. 

If Abraham wanted information from him, of course, it would all fall out of his mouth like a waterfall of words, whatever he wanted to hear, to know, all his for the taking. Red was all his for the taking, but these lawyers - they did not know how to take him correctly.

Instead, they question and dance around and try to coax without really coaxing. It’s annoying, but it draws everything out, so he tries to sit back and enjoy it. Honestly, who knows when he’ll see his Red all tear-stained and gorgeously tempting like this again?

Little less bleeding than he likes to see, granted, but he can just imagine that part.

His memories provide so many images of Red bleeding. 

“Okay, Daniel. Let’s keep going.”

“What is your name? Who do you belong to?” He holds Red by the chin, tilting it up to meet his eyes where the man kneels on the floor, his wrists tied with barbed wire Abraham found in the body’s workshop out back and held out in front of him at chest level, holding himself perfectly still so none of the barbs will cut him. 

He’s been kneeling like that for an hour in the smokehouse, in the dark with the scent of old fires and curing meat all around them. Abraham set a timer on his phone and sat back to take some photos, then simply waited, watching him, until the timer beeped.

It’s hot, and Red is pouring sweat in rivulets and rivers, but he doesn’t try to get up, and he doesn’t try to move his wrists even as his arms begin to tremble with the effort of holding themselves up like this.

“Red, m-my name is Red.” The voice shakes, it shivers for him. Red is always shivering for him, one way or another, when he bleeds. “My name is Red and I belong to y-you, Abraham, to you.”

“Good boy. Put your hands on the ground.” He watches Red do as he is told, smiling as some of the barbs finally prick into his skin and Red winces, laying his palms flat on the ground. “Now are we going to try any of that nonsense again? You going to try picking the lock on your chain again?”

“N-No. I’m sorry, Abraham, I won’t. I’m sorry.”

“Good.” Abraham lets one boot come out and press against Red’s wrists, forcing the barbed wire to dig into the skin, and listens to the sound of Red hissing through his teeth at the pain, digging his fingernails into the earthen ground, with perfect contentment.

Those blue eyes stay open, and they never look away from his, even as they well with tears.

Abraham leans down, reaches out, and gently wipes one tear away as it slides down that perfectly scarred cheek. “I adore you, Red,” He says softly. “You’re going to be our perfect puppy forever.”

Red licks his lips, breathing in shallow pants to avoid making any noise as Abraham puts even more weight over the wire wrapped around his wrists, and nods quickly. “Yes,” He says in a gasp. “Yes, I will, I will, please stop, I’m sorry, I’ll try harder to be good-”

“Yes,” Abraham says thoughtfully, and pulls his foot back, listening to Red’s relieved half-sob in response. “Yes, you will try harder. And you will be good.”

“Th-thank you, Abraham,” Red manages in a voice just above a whimper. “Thank you for listening to my apology, thank you for only hurting me a little, thank you.”

The way the lawyers question him is irritating. What Red really needs, of course, is someone in that room to give him some orders, using his true name, the name Abraham had gifted to him, a way to understand his place, to become what he was meant to be.

If they would only tell his good boy what to do or say, of course, Red would understand what they want from him. He would feel safer, more secure, hemmed in the way he deserves to be. Red feels safer in a life full of cages, now, defined bars made up of commands and orders and expectations. 

Red likes the rules. He understands his name.

All those lawyers in fancy suits do, though, is ask questions, they give him choices. It confuses Red, makes him struggle to figure out the right thing to say.

No one bothers to get Abraham’s advice about any of it, of course. He’s the bad guy, he’s the villain, just for simply doing what came naturally to him and turning Red into what he had been meant to be all along. 

In a world where the monsters all wear nametags and point at someone higher-up when called to accept responsibility, Abraham is a monster all on his own, one they cannot tame, and so they want to lock him away.

They call him a lot of things, in the newspapers that report on the trial - he gets four newspapers every day in jail - but mostly he’s picked up the nickname The Carver in the Cabin, and he kind of likes that one. It’s better than he thought he’d get, anyway, and his guards are quick to let him know that the Carver is the nickname that seems to be sticking.

He likes the guards. They’re his best friends now.

Granted, everyone he talks to is his best friend if you give him long enough - that’s always been true.

Abraham and Ashley have been caught so many times, but until Nate burned the cabin down none of those moments ever seemed to stick.

Abraham Denner could charm the pants off anyone - and often did, shortly before killing them.

Ashley could never seem to charm anyone - something about her was too cold, the violence in her coiled too close to the surface and too visible to anyone who looked right at her. Abraham could bury his.  

To him, though, Ashley was always his warm and loving twin sister. To him, she had been arms around him from birth, arms he could still sometimes feel even though she had been dead for more than four years.

Nate’s fault - but he couldn’t feel angry… he couldn’t feel anything but pride at his black-haired prince for being strong enough to pull it off, to leave. No, he’s not mad at Nate. 

He’s mad at Ashley for leaving Nate the opening to kill her. She should have known better.

In the video, Red rubs compulsively at the scars around his face, and Abraham feels his mouth go a little dry just watching him, pouring himself a glass of water (next to him, his defense lawyer flinches, just the slightest bit, and Abraham feels good about that). He sips slowly, savoring the cool clear nothing-taste of it while imagining Red’s tears were just for him, just for him and Nate, the way it should be.

Red, a tall and lanky man with heavily muscled shoulders, is hunched over like a child waiting for punishment with fear in his eyes, and it’s all because of Abraham Denner. He’s so perfect, so genuinely and perfectly beautiful. 

Nate was his true love, of course - and Abraham fully intended to find some way to see his sweet man again, either a prison visit or, hell, never write off an escape, he’d done more unbelievable things in his life… but he would never walk away from his Red, either.

“All right, Mr. Michaelson,” The prosecutor on the video is saying. “We need to move on to speaking about what happened in this photo. Would you be able to look at this photo for us, Daniel?” 

The soft scrape of a bit of paper being moved across the table, and Red reaches out as if to touch it. His eyes glance down, too quickly to do more than take in the basics, and then he looks back up, looking more confused than frightened, pulling his hands back. “We, we have to talk about, um, about that?”

“Yes. We need to understand what was happening in this photo. Would you be able to talk about that now? Obviously if you need a break-”

“No,” Red says quickly, leaning forward, pulling the paper towards himself, shaking his head so his hair falls back over his eyes. “No, I’m fine, I can do it, I’m sorry, I’ll just try harder, I can, I can be good and do this for you-”

That’s my good good boy, Abraham thinks with a grin. He knows the jury watches him. He can feel their revulsion when he smiles at Red’s tears. 

He doesn’t care.

Nothing about this trial was ever going to end in anything but a prison sentence, and Abraham isn’t the type to delude himself. He’s not here to try and find acquittal. He’s just here to have some fun before he gets locked away.

“I will show the photo using the secondary screen,” The prosecutor sitting at the other table speaks out loud. The judge gives his approval, and when the prosecutor clicks the remote to pull up a large-scale version of the photo the man is holding in the testimony, everyone in the courtroom sees a photo of Red sitting on the ground, his face turned away and eyes shut but his mouth open wide in a scream, his hands wrapped tightly around himself.

Nathaniel Vandrum is crouched just behind him, one arm around him, one hand buried in his hair to pull Red against his chest. Nate’s chin rests on top of Red’s head and he’s glaring right at the camera - right at Abraham - with pure, loveless fury.

Closed around Red’s left leg is a bear trap. The smears of bright red showing through his torn jeans seem too brilliant to be real in the courtroom’s yellow light. 

Abraham takes a deep breath, seeing it blown up so large, larger than life really, and has to take another drink of water before he’s totally bowled over by the incredibly knife-sharp surge of pure joy that rocks through him head to toe.

Joy, and something much darker.

“I stepped in a bear trap,” Red says in the video testimony, staring down at the photo. “He took a photo before he let Nate get me out of it.”

“Why were you in a bear trap, Mr. Michaelson?”

“I was bad and I did not apologize,” Red says, head tilted down at the photo, tracing his fingers along it. “When you do something wrong, you apologize, and you get hurt so that you do not do it again.”

Someone in the jury coughs hard.

Red’s eyes are glittering again, and Abraham can see him trembling, even though this isn’t really happening right now.

He shivers so well, little Red.

He knows just how to shake the way Abraham likes best.

“Are you saying that Mr. Denner forced you into the trap? We need you to be absolutely clear, for the record, Daniel. Can you be clear about this for us?”

Red takes a deep breath, licking his lips, and slowly nods. He looks around the ring of lawyers offscreen again, looking for their approval, and then lets his eyes drop back down to the photo. Abraham looks over to the jury to see some of them glaring right at him with hatred, most of them looking at the photo still, and one old woman dabbing at the corner of her eyes with a tissue.

“Yes,” Red says finally, and his voice is shaking as hard as he is. “He told me to step in the trap as hard as I could or he would, um, he would… he would…” His voice trails off and he hunches over, mumbling too low to be heard.

“Please, Daniel, please try to speak clearly for us, just to finish this last little bit. Then we’ll take another break. Describe what happened.”

“He told me I had to step in the bear trap to punish myself or he would hurt Nate again.” Red looks up, pleading with them to understand with his wide eyes. “He, he said he would really hurt him this time - he’d break his leg or worse, if I didn’t go in the trap, so I had to. The last time I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t take my punishment like a g-… like he wanted me to, he beat Nate so badly, so.. so I had to go in the trap. I had to step in it, I had been, I had been bad I had tried to say no again, and I don’t get to say no. Puppies don’t get angry, pets don’t… I had to, I, I had to be good, I had to…”

They cut the video short again, but Abraham isn’t done with this memory, not at all. He’s going to be thinking about the bear trap for days, running over and over in his mind the moment Red had agreed to do exactly what he said to spare Nate.

The way Nate had glared at him over Red’s head, holding onto him, the way the guilt had shredded Nate for days and days, that Red had been so willing to take a punishment to save him. 

“I’m sorry, Abraham, please, I’ll do it. Don’t hurt him, please!”

“I won’t, if you step right in. Not just a little step, either. These things are made for much larger animals than my skinny little puppy. You stomp your foot right into it and take your punishment, or Nate takes it for you.”

Red’s hair is sweat-soaked and stuck to his forehead, even out here in the chill air. He nods quickly, hugging himself around his middle as though it would ever make it any better. “I will, I’ll do it, Abraham, just, just give me a second, I just need…”

“Take a moment. Deep breaths, Red. In and out, in and out. That’s my good boy.” Red’s whole body shakes, but he nods, breathing slow and deep, just the way Abraham tells him to. Nate steps over to him, hands on either side of his face.

“You don’t h-h-have to d-do this,” Nate says softly, gently, and Abraham missed the love in his words, because he was so busy searching for it when Nate looked at -him-. “I c-can take it. I’ve t-t-taken it before, Red. I can t-take it. Don’t d-d-do this just because of m-me.”

Red looks up at him, tears in his eyes, and shakes his head. “I’ll do it. You were so hurt last time, I can do it, Nate. Okay? Okay, Nate?”

Nate just pulls him close for a hug, holds him tightly, and finally steps back. “I’ll b-be right h-h-here to hold you after,” He says, gently, reassuring, leaning in to kiss Red’s forehead, each side of his face, the tip of his nose. “I’ll h-hold your hand.”

Abraham’s not jealous, not yet. He had taken Red to give Nate a friend, after all, and in Abraham’s world there was no such thing as a platonic friend. The puppy’s not a person, and taking is what puppies like Red are made for.

Red nods, stepping back, taking breaths as deeply and slowly as he can.

He turns back to the bear trap, one hand gripped white-knuckled onto Nate’s, as he moves towards it, staring down with abject dread. He shivers, he shakes, and Abraham all but purrs watching it.

Red’s left foot is trembling as he slowly lifts it up above the open trap.

He looks back at Abraham - maybe hoping for some sort of last-minute mercy - but Abraham just smiles and waits, shaking his head. “Will you be good for me, Red?”

“I’ll be good,” Red whispers. “I’m going to try harder. I can be good, just… just don’t hurt Nate.” Then he jams his left foot down into the trap, onto the little metal plate in the center, as hard as he can.

The trap snaps shut around his left leg and Red collapses long before the pain reaches him. He gives out and falls backwards, Nate grabbing onto him tightly around the chest and waist, holding onto him and murmuring soothing nonsense sounds.

Red goes suddenly still, his eyes wide and white-ringed, and he begins to scream. The sound shatters the woods around them, sends a flock of birds flying up into the sky in a burst of wings, bounces around the trees and crisp air, goes on and on and on.

Red screams, and screams, and screams.

The video testimony cuts to after the break, his little Red looking shaken but still resolute, still resolved to see this through. Abraham glances over to the prosecution’s side and sees Red’s little brother, that Ryan kid, ashen under his darker skin (adopted brothers, and still the brother comes here every day but the parents don’t… interesting, that) and staring at nothing now, twisting a little bit of paper into shreds with his hands.

He sees Nate, looking straight at the screen still, his jaw locked tightly and his green eyes totally focused. He doesn’t look to Abraham. He doesn’t see what his reaction was.

But Abraham settles back. He doesn’t care about this next bit of testimony.

No, he closes his eyes and relives, one more time, the moment his beautiful Red put his foot down in the trap.

[tslasvegas]

Episode 8: “On the upside we got the numbers.” - Andrew (who is then voted out by those numbers)

It’s always a sad and unfortunate thing when a player needs to leave a game for personal reasons. I’m wishing Kevin all the best! 

Welp. I don't wanna say that this sucks, but this sucks. My closest ally walked from the game, and I hope he's ok. I really hope everything is ok with him. But now, I'm a green in a world of pinks. What my pink friends don't realize though, is I have a Safety Without Power advantage. Nobody knows about it. So if we lose, they cannibalize themselves, and that will be a sight to see. But I'd like to keep my advantage for as long as possible. But if we lose, that'll be a fun tribal council. I can only hope it's a double tribal. Now this - this is a redemption arc.

If a merge at 13 is next, then we are done! ugh. 

MERGE HAPPENS

We merged!! And I only had to attend a single tribal council in the premerge with 8 eliminations. That’s wild! We’re sitting here in merge with 7 OG Palazzo, 3 OG Bellagio and 3 OG Luxor. If Palazzo sticks together, we’d have the majority whichever way you look at it. However, I don’t imagine that group is going to stick together very long. Joey wants to get myself and Jaiden into single digits. I’d love to help get Jake into single digits as well. And I’d also like to get Livingston to at least 6th place. Honestly a group of that 5 sounds like a pretty good idea, and I might pitch it to Joey later today. And now we’re doing mastermind! A game I love but rarely ever win. I usually come close and I’m hoping this time around I can snag a win and be safe this first tribal. Nothing is scarier than the merge round of the game. Anything at all can happen. There’s still some idols and extra votes floating around, maybe some steal a votes too. There’s also that safety without power and the legacy advantage, which may be able to be played this round? Exciting things are brewing im sure. 

We made the merge!!

So OG Palazzo must be tight. Good thing Steph and Joey are still reaching out. But I don't know if we can build up a resistance with the non-OGPalazzo. I mean, in theory, it can happen. 6 of us, with a steal a vote. But so much has happened voting on opposite sides, I don't know if it is doable. We can try. Better to go out blazing at 13th, than just waiting for your turn to be voted out before F7.

I MADE IT TO MERGE AGAIN... okay I feel good about my surroundings, as well as the people I’m next to. OG Palazzo wants to go all the way to Final 7, but I know that ain’t gonna happen, cause I’m turning on them as fast as humanly possible. I need others to see that I’m a strengthener to their games, and now that its every player for themselves, I think I can grab some allies and make shit happen. I have a Legacy Advantage, and I’m just trying to get to 6.

I’m sad I lost all my chips. On the upside we got the numbers

MERGE BITCH

Ok but for serious I don't have much to say so I'm just going to do an assessment of everyone on the tribe. Andrew - I thought I was gonna like Andrew bc I thought he was c*te then I find out he likes The Sims so there was something easy for us to talk about!! But then... come to find out. He's not really interested in talking I guess. So I'm just going to leave him alone and not carry on a conversation. Ben - WHY is Ben still here. I'm so annoyed. Ben tries so hard to be my ally but I don't trust him that much. Before the merge, he pitched a plan to pool our coins (meaning: I had to send him all of mine) so that I could spin the wheel and avoid going bankrupt. Then he said we're a final two. I was like,,, no thanks. I feel like he's going to blow up his game at some point, but I just gotta pretend better to be on his side. Idk how to do that exactly... Jake - Jake has been THE biggest surprise of the merge to be honest. I actually really like Jake. He's a little "irritating" I guess, but more in the sense that he is just pretty bro-y and that's not my energy. I respect Jake's desire to be great in Tumblr Survivor, we have that in common here. I think right now, Jake and I are as close as you can get to working together without actually being a legitimate alliance. I want to see where this takes us because he's a cool guy and I really feel bad for talking shit about him before the merge. Jeff - Part of me likes Jeff, but part of me views him as the enemy simply because he's part of the "Palazzo 7". I want to try and work on Jeff because maybe he and I see things the same way? I don't think this game is strictly "seven strong" like Joey perpetuates, I'll get to that in a minute though. Anyways, I want to see how things go with Jeff cuz he seems like a cool dude and I'm definitely a meninist and want to be his bitch! Joey - I hate that I'm in a position where I both know Joey is vital for my game right now, but also that I can't stand his strategy. I like him as a person, let's make that very clear for the post-season - I just don't subscribe to his idea that there's a seven person alliance (which btw includes him according to numbers???) running the show. I will definitely feel Joey out some more before I make any decision to attach myself to him fully or throw him to the wolves. John - THREAT. I'm on high alert for John and kinda trying to maintain a safe, social-distancing-approved level of space between us. I think that John is definitely running things at least in one or two circles and I don't want him to turn that target around on me. I also can't let him know that I'm onto him. John is probably playing it where everybody just likes him and includes him in plans, but in the event that he is pulling strings, that's where the issues start. Kailyn - I don't really care for Kailyn anymore tbh. I kinda think Kailyn is playing a good under the radar game and I think it's in a lot of people's benefit to send her off to the jury sooner rather than later. I have no read on who she's close with though so that's the danger. Probably John? But who knows. Keegan - I also am surprised that I like Keegan as much as I do. He seemed a little bit too smart for his own good? But he's actually rather nice. He flops like I do but I think he's a danger if I'm not careful. I'll keep on this guy and hopefully he doesn't target me <3 I'd rather work with Keegan than against him especially now. 

Livingston - WOW I thought I'd like Livingston but goddamn this guy is BORING. Not only does he not message back, but he has nothing interesting to provide to a conversation. If he was the first person to go this round I wouldn't really be upset oop Pat - We talked a lot about drag race. We played an org together and I remember now that Pat was fucking IRRELEVANT so I'm surprised to see this new energy. Who are you and what did you do with the real Pat? Stephanie - I don't really like Stephanie's strategy either, she's just too damn likable and kind of floats on by, I wish she had left last time instead of Rachael because then it's likely Rachael gets the boot soon. But we'll see what happens. I just hope that me voting for her isn't going to kill our relationship and we can work together at some point, at least until she gets voted out. Xavier - I have a hard time reading Xavier. I think I'm calmed down from feeling threatened by him. I trust Xavier enough to not go and screw up a vote again, but does he trust me? Don't really know. I want to work with Xavier at least for a couple votes but I know that he and Ben aren't on good terms and Ben is a vote that I need right now :/ The issue I have with Xavier is that he is positioning himself to kinda be a doormat just doing whatever people want and not necessarily.. taking control of how people look at him I guess. He sticks out for being the "dad" on the tribe and doesn't bring a lot of his own personality to conversation - it's just really basic strategy. I don't know anything about him that I didn't have to go fucking find out about him on his public YouTube. Insert clown emoji here. Anyways, overall I feel okay about my chances on this tribe... So far. I honestly don't see myself playing a winning game right now - BUT it's final thirteen and there is a lot of time to turn that around for myself. I feel good in comparison to my previous Tumblr Survivor seasons because there hasn't been a vote where I've completely made myself stand out like a sore thumb. My head is in a good place to finish out this game strong, just gotta put the pedal to the metal and work shit out. Maybe win a couple challenges! Whatever twists are ahead... I'm not prepared. But I am going to walk away from this season for the better, one way or another. Eight people down, twelve left to go. 

Well, I came close to winning but unfortunately didn't. Kailyn won immunity and we had a twist where we all had to choose between two buttons. Aaaaand Kailyn now has immunity this tribal and next tribal. Lovely. After the challenge, Andrew immediately threw out Jake's name, which was worrying but I think Jeff and I have managed to sway things towards Ben. Which is a little scary, since it's highly possible he has an idol or advantage (though he did play an idol on himself at the Rachael boot. So maybe not?) Now, the question is going to become: how do Livingston and myself navigate these next few tribals with Jake? We need to keep him safe and the target off his back. There's also Joey and Jaiden who I definitely want to keep working with moving forward. I think I'm in a decent spot. I really don't see Jaiden or Jake keeping their mouth shut if my name comes up. I think I've managed to build enough of a bond with them that they won't target me. My concern is definitely Ben being a little sneak, as well as Kailyn and Xavier, who really don't talk at all. John... can also be kinda sneaky and he also has been super quiet. However, when all is said and done, I just want a single digit placement. I don't care what happens before/after that, just please let me get there. 

My first merge in 3 seasons of Tumblr Survivor, finally! It would be awesome if the tyrannical force of pink wasn’t here. Right now I’m practically a sitting duck. I’ve made connections with Jaiden and Joey who I just met, I’m hoping they’d watch my back. Ben and I are great friends from outside the game, we’re called the Jew-O Duo, for obvious reasons. I’m in a duo with Jeff called Jeff Squared, a duo with Pat called The Best Men, a trio with Liv and Keegan (that’s super dangerous cause I know they’re friends), and me John and Xavier are the Luxor Losers. I should feel protected - but I don’t. I need to keep working socially and hope that I can scoot by a couple more rounds. I wanna buddy up with Steph and Kailyn, I have no interest in working with Andrew after he flat out told me he wasn’t turning on Pink. It could be me tonight. We’ll just have to see.

....five seconds later

No. No no no no no no no. I'm sick of Andrew trying to get me out, and then going after my allies instead. I can't just sit here and let him walk all over me the entire game. He has been wishy washy and fake with me since I met him. I'm not gonna play a game of what ifs, I'm taking a gamble and gonna get his own tribe to flip on him. I've got enough information from Jeff, Pat, and Liv to spin into a lie. I know Andrew said my name - but Jeff and Keegan changed it to Ben, so if I tell Keegan that Andrew blamed him on my name coming up I think I can flip him. I can try to get John, Ben, and Xavier, Keegan can get Liv and Joey, that's 7. If it blows up in my face - Oh well. This is season 99! We're high rolling now.

Had a nice long conversation with Jake this morning. Andrew has been throwing my name under the bus for some reason? Well Andrew, better watch out because I’m driving that bus and swerving it at you. OG Palazzo is... not my favourite. Honestly I’m okay if it dies tonight. Jake, Livingston, Ben, Joey, Jaiden and myself can definitely switch things up. I imagine we can get John and Xavier on board as well, maybe even Kailyn. I was perfectly okay riding the pink wave for a few rounds, but Andrew you just had to go and mess that up. Why? For what reason? Hoping it’s you tonight. xoxo Gossip Girl

I feel good about tribal, rip Andrew I guess, but I'm nervous as hell for some reason that it could be me. It would be perfect because I don't even see it coming... :/

I don't know what happened, but there seems to be a "merging" of tribal lines. Which is good for me. The vote is going Andrew with 9. And the 4 are voting Ben. Or everyone is playing everyone. I am just happy I am not one of the options BUT I was told that Steph and I are being mentioned by people as a tight 2. Well, they're right, but I didn't want that to come out.

Andrew is being his paranoid self. And rightfully so. Unless I’m getting completely bamboozled, the vote should between 7 and 9 votes for Andrew, and between 6 and 4 votes for Ben. Fingers crossed this goes off without a hitch

Okay so premerge wasn’t too hard tbh. Just making friendships with my og palazzo. I just hope that every week people see someone else as less important to their game. I have a long mental game for this and I am prepared to take this game week by week and adjust to everything that comes. I just pray that I make it through this week and even if I lose Andrew I don’t mind tbh because then I have an idol to myself. I’m obsessed with Livingston tbh he’s so funny and I like a good amount of the people I didn’t get a chance to meet premerge so I think there’s good room to move about 

After last tribal I honestly want Ben gone. He’s kind of rude and frustrating. OG Pallazzo has the numbers so in theory we should be set but who knows? 🤷🏼‍♀️

[gloriousstudentfury-love]

Viva Cuba

y/n’s POV

I knocked on the Alvarez's door, while Schneider stood next to me holding a chair.

Penelope opened the door and Schneider and I walked in.

"Hey, guys, you're in luck. I finally found a vintage store that had a chair that matches your dining set." Schneider said

"Why do we need an extra chair?" Penelope asked

"It's not really extra. There's six of us." He said putting the chair down at the table

They all gasped

"I know. It's not a perfect match. But it's hardly the sorest thumb in this room." He said

"Not the chair! What the hell are you wearing?" Penelope asked

"Oh crap." I said noticing who was on his shirt

"Oh. Che Guevara? Yeah. Viva la revolución, am I right?" He said

"You are wrong." Lydia said

"Do you have any idea.." Alex started

"I got this. Do you have any idea..." Elena said

"Kids, relax. Do you have any idea what this comemierda did?" Penelope asked

"Grew an awesome beard and modeled for T-shirts?" Schneider asked

"Oh, Wow." I said sitting down

"First of all, He wasn't even Cuban!" Penelope said

"He was Castro's right hand man." Lydia said

"He burned books. He banned music. He personally oversaw execution squads. He was a mass murder." Elena said

"But..He has a cool hat." Schneider said

"It's like if you walked into a Jewish home wearing a Hitler shirt." Penelope said

"Or into Taylor Swift's home wearing a Kanye shirt." I said

"Oh, my god! You guys, I am so sorry! I had no idea." He said taking off his shirt

"We forgive you, Schneider. We know that sometimes you are a bobo and don't know what you're doing." Lydia said hugging him

She started rubbing his chest and I had to look away.

"Okay, now I kind of miss the shirt." Penelope said

__________

Alex, Schneider, Lydia, and I were in the living room so Alex could interview her for his project on Cuba.

"So I had to flee Cuba and come here to America. Your abuelo and I were separated for years before we found our way back into each other's arms. There was an earthquake the day we reunited and I am convinced that the passion of our embrace moved the Earth." Lydia said

Alex and ended the recording.

"Not sure the science checks out, but who cares? That was beautiful." Schneider said

"Oh. Gracias." Lydia said

"What are you doing?" Schneider asked getting on Alex's face

Alex looked at him confused.

"History is coming alive before your eyes! And that's too small a camera for too big a star!" Schneider said

"What?" I asked

"Keep talking." Lydia said

"You're so luck she's here. I know nothing about my grandparents and I never will! And they live in Pasadena! I mean, the traffic's just...Anyway, this is a huge opportunity for you. With the right production value, this might qualify for a Student Academy Award. Oh, yeah. The Soscars? It's a thing." Schneider said

"I could win a trophy? Something for the Alvarez Museum besides my teeth?" Alex asked

"Wait, What?" I said

"Don't forget your umbilical cord." Lydia said

"What the hell kind of museum is this?" I questioned

"I'm gonna make a movie! I'll write a script, cast it, edit it.... Wait, am I making more work for myself?" Alex asked

I laughed

"Am I excited about it? Is this what it's like to be Elena?" He asked

"I will start my beauty regime now. I will be ready at dawn."

"Okay, but we have to go to school." Alex said

"Oh, good. Cause dawn was pushing it." Lydia said getting up and leaving

"Okay. So we're doing this tomorrow afternoon? Ah, I was supposed to have jury duty, but you know what? I'm just gonna call my guy. This is more important." Schneider said

Me and Alex laughed

Schneider was about to leave, when he opened the door and Penelope walked in.

"Oh, Hey, Pen. Do you have a 50-foot extension cord and some dry ice? You know what? I'll make a run to the depot." He said leaving

"Do I wanna know?" She asked us

"Tomorrow, I'm filming the whole family for my Cuba project. It's a lot of extra work, but I'm really excited. What is happening to me?" He said

Alex and I walked to his room.

___________

The next day, Alex, Schneider, and I were in the living room, setting up for the movie.

"Isn't this better? A good camera, proper lighting, and a cast in wardrobe." Schneider said

Elena walked out in a sparkly dress and a fruit hat

"I look like a fruit salad." She said

"I look like cousin Consuelo." Penelope said walking out in farmer clothes and a beard.

"Don't let the beard throw you. It actually looks really natural." Alex said

Penelope walked in front of the green screen.

"Lights, camera......talk now!" I said

"I am a farmer. I grow coffee beans. One of Cuba's most important exports. I work everyday from sunrise to sunset. But I am happy with my simple life." Penelope said

"Cut! Can we do it again? It doesn't really seem like you're a farmer." Alex said

"Cause I'm not really a farmer." She said

"It's not to late to recast." Schneider said

"You auditioned and you didn't get the part. Move on, man." I said

Okay, Elena, you're up." Alex said

"Great. But I have some notes on the script." She said

"Oh, here we go. I hate it when the talent has thoughts." Schneider said

"What are you trying to say about Cubans? You're making us out to be a total stereotype. We're not this different from everyone else." Elena said

"Elena, get over this diversity thing. A committee of people think you're a smart Latina, and they wanna help you achieve your dreams. How is this not a good thing?" Penelope asked

I knew they were going to fight, so I tuned out their conversation.

I zoned back in when it was Lydia's turn.

"Abuelita, you're up." Alex said

She dramatically opened the curtains.

"Oh, hello. I didn't se you there. It is I, Lydia Riera, the most famous dancer in Cuba. I can do flamenco, salsa, mambo, pachanga, and the Funky Chicken." She said

She danced to the couch and sat down.

"Okay. Time for your story. Make me laugh. Make me cry. Get me an A." Alex said

"Well, when I was in Cuba...the people would line up for blocks and blocks just to see me. I was the IPhone of my time. But then Castro took over. My family was forced to flee. And that's when I came to America." She said

"Oh, you know what would be good? Talk about being one of the Pedro Pan kids." He said

"Ah! Pedro Pan was a program that during the revolution to fly children out of Cuba and give them safe haven in the United States until Castro left." She said

"Okay.. so you were put on a plane to a new country where you didn't know the language?" I asked

"Oh, yes." She said

"Without your parents?" Alex asked

"Yes." She said

"And you were Elena's age, which would have made Tia Maruchi my age? And Mimi would've been really young." Alex said

"Yes." Lydia said

"Wow, Abuelita. I can't even imagine. That must have been so hard, taking care of your sisters, since you were the oldest." Alex said

Lydia stopped talking

"Mami, are you Okay?" Penelope asked

"Ah..you know, I am sorry. I'm a little tired. I'm sorry, papito." Lydia said tearing up and walking to her room.

We all looked at each other. I pat Alex on the back.

___________

Later, we were all standing in front of the curtain, listening to Abuelita tell Penelope about her older sister.

I held Elena's and Alex's hand.

Penelope opened the curtain and we all sighed.

"So, I guess you heard everything?" Penelope asked

"It's just a curtain." Schneider said

Elena went into her room to talk to her.

Why they were talking, I slowly grabbed my bag and went back to Schneider's apartment.

I couldn't stand to hear people talking about losing their family.

________________

Later, I was sitting on the couch when their was a knock on the door.

I got up from the couch, and opened the door to find Alex.

"Hey." I said letting him in

"Hey." He said

"Is Lydia okay?" I asked

"She's fine, we actually finished the movie. Are you okay?" He asked

"I'm fine, why do you ask?" I said

"Well, you kinda walked off." He said

"Her story just made me sad." I said

"It reminds you of someone else's story?" He asked knowingly

"A little." I said

_________

The next day, we were all gathered in the Alvarez living room to watch Alexa movie.5

We all clapped after it finished.

"Oh, Lydia, I'm so thrilled to be your date at the premiere of the greatest story ever filmed." Dr. B said

"Oh, Leslie, you exaggerate. Date" Lydia said

"That was great, Alex." I said

"Thanks. And I finally have my contribution to the Alvarez Museum. My script with and A-plus on the cover." He said

We all cheered

"And don't forget your signed headshot of the producer." Schneider said

"That's not going on my wall." Penelope said

"We'll See." Schneider said

"Uh.. but I may have something to add to the wall soon. After giving it a lot of thought... I have decided to go back to school to become—" she started

"No, no, no! Don't become a doctor! Please, I've been regretting it ever since we talked. I'm so sorry I inspired you." Dr. B said

"Relax, Doc. You didn't inspire me. They did. I'm not gonna be a doctor. I'm gonna be a nurse practitioner. It's all the things that excite me about being a doctor, but the training takes a fraction of the time, and it still comes with a pretty sweet salary bump." She said

We clapped for her

"Hey, maybe we could both be nurse practitioners. Nah, I couldn't. I enjoy the white coat too much." Doc said

"Nps get a white coat." She said

"Son of a bitch!" He said+

__________

[writing-appreciation]

His Legacy

Paring: Peter Parker X Stark!Reader X Platonic!Harley

Warnings: ☡ ENDGAME SPOILERS ☡, Slight language

Synopsis: The reader is concerned for Peter becoming the "new Ironman."

GIF NOT MINE: @tomhollandnet

DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN ENDGAME: FINAL WARNING!!

He was distraught. We all were. Anthony Stark's sacrifice destroyed us all in many ways.

Pepper lost the man she loved.

Morgan and I lost our father.

Rhodes lost his best friend.

But Peter. Peter lost his second father figure. And that hurt him in ways that his Uncle Ben's death didn't.

I was depressed for a couple weeks. Part of me felt that it was my fault. I helped Tony figure out how to fix the snag in the Time Heist.

--Flash Back--

"D'you want washing or drying?" He asked me as we both apprached the sink.

"Drying, definitely drying." I responded, already picking up the dish towel.

"Alright, but if you accidentally end up soaking, don't be complaining to me about it later."

And a few minutes later, he did "accidentally" spray water on me, the ceiling, and a collection of photos near us.

"Dad! Ugh, I'll get the mop." I carefully walked away.

He just smiled and looked at the photos. First observing a picture of his father. Then he pulled a different photo from behind it, taking the time to gently wipe away the water droplets on the frame. He looked hurt.

I walked back over to mess. I managed to sneakily catch a glance at what photo he had: the one of him and Peter getting his "internship."

It made me want to cry. I know he felt bad about Peter dying. It's just the way dad rolled. Everything is his fault.

"Maybe it wouldn't hurt to look into the calculations about Scott's Time Heist." I slowly suggested, now staring at the photo of Peter smiling. I missed him.

My dad constantly teased us on "being oblivious to one anothers' feelings." Feelings or not, I knew I missed him. When dad told me he hadn't made it, we both cried for an hour.

"What did I tell you about easedropping young lady?" He feigned suprise. He took a deep breath and cleared his voice of any emotion other than sarcasm.

He wrapped his left arm around me and kissed the top of my head.

" It's too bad you suck at quantum mechanics too badly to help with any of it."

I scoffed at his insult, knowing I was fully capable of keeping up. I was a Stark, it's in my blood.

So we went to work. Busting out every computation of every calculation we could think of.

"This is impossible. I told them Tiny's stupid hesit is physically impossible."

I chuckled at his codename for Scott. It helped relieve some of the tension in the room.

"Okay, so the calculus works, we can agree on that?"

He nodded.

"So we just need a workable shape to bend time around and to morph ourselves around?"

I layed my face in my hands and thought of the shapes we hadn't tested yet.

"Yes, Einstein, we do. But We've tried every geometrical postulate imaginable. I'm sorry kid, it's not hap..."

"Mobius strip." I whipped my head out of my hands and looked at him.

"FRI, can you run the calculations with the Mobius strip?" He asked, desperation clinging to his voice.

I didn't have the energy to make some snarky remark on how he took my idea. I just wanted to see if it worked

I moved to where my dad was standing, also waiting with anticipation. I felt him glance at me. He wanted this to work because he knew I needed it to work.

The moment we saw the green loop appear around the stip we both fell backwords into our seats.

"Shit." Be both said in unison, stares not breaking from the display.

"Shit!" We heard a little voice behind us.

We turned around to see Morgan happily sitting on the stairs, watching us.

Dad made some quippy remark about having important shit to do, which caused Morgan to frown/smile. He then took her up to bed, but not before getting them icepops.

I turned back to the display. The green line still surprised me. I half expected it to disappear in the time we looked away.

This was gonna work. We were going to get them back.

-------

I blamed myself for it. I should've just let it go. We were happy. We had a family. We were good.

But then I remember the billions who dusted away. It was the right thing to do. It just hurts.

But Peter's pain was significantly worse. He was hard to trust. After Ben's death, he found it hard to trust people, especially any father-figure he became close to. Understandably dad's death destroyed his limited trust capacity.

We could tell it was destroying him, Happy and I. We saw it firsthand.

Fury was pushing Peter. What with his constant calls, and even him hijacking our Summer vacation. Fury wanted the new Ironman and he was deadset on it being Peter.

It made me mad a first. Fury believed I was envious of the offer being given to Peter. But it was more concern than envy. Peter was Spiderman, not Ironman. He can't be both. And nobody could ever replace my dad

Plus people overlooked the obvious choice here: Harley Keener.

He was 16, and a new student to Midtown Tech. He was the perfect choice to carry on dad's legacy. It's not like Harley had other heroic prior commitments like Peter or I did. Plus we got along great.

My dad connected us one year when we all went down to vacation in Tennessee and met his family. I immediately gravitated to Harley. Seeing as he was only one year older than me, a sort of summer fling also sprouted between us. It ended on good terms. We kept in touch, agreed to hang out every once in a while, and had a fun tendency to provoke my dad.

But when I apprached Fury about this he struck it down before I even got to mention Harley. He insisted that Peter become the new Ironman. Which was weird.

The next step was to try to convince Peter which I felt wouldn't be too difficult. He was cracking under the pressure.

But seeing as we were currently going head to head with a giant water monster in London, I figured it'd be best to table the the discussion for a later time.

So we did. Just at a different time when Harley showed up at the rebuilt HQ (the old Stark/Avengers tower) just after we got back from vacation. It was 9:30 and we both just wanted to sleep for days.

Peter went into full defense mode the moment he saw Harley sitting in the corner. In Peter's defence, Harley did look pretty shady.

The whole squabble was resolved when I pushed past Peter and welcomed Harley with open arms.

"Hey, if it isn't my second favourite Stark!" He exclaimed as we embraced.

Though he kept it silent, I could sense Peter's jealousy.

"Hey, Keener, nice suprise, but what are you doing here?"

"Well, I thought we were going to talk to Fury today, so I just figured I would come in. I heard you guys were getting back today." He smiled.

I smiled back. It was truly nice to see him again. The last time I saw him as a few days after the Funeral when he dropped the news that he'd be attending Midtown Tech. I wasn't exactly a happy time, but it was mosty better now.

"Um, I'm sorry, but can you please explain who this dude is, (Y/n)?" Peter broke our little bubble of joy.

I noticed Peter even gave Harley a side glance of disgust and distrust. This should be interesting.

"Peter, play nice. This is one of my old friends, Harley Keener. I'm not sure you two met at the funeral, but basically he was a fellow mentee my dad sort of trained. He just moved here, and he'll be a Junior at Midtown Tech in a couple weeks." I politely explained to the disgruntled Spiderboy.

"And she wants me to be Ironlad."

Oh, this can't be good.

"Ironlad?" Peter questioned, now meeting Harley's gaze. Posture suddenly taller. Was he challenging Harley?

"Yeah, (Y/n) here called me about it a while back. I already have prints for a suit and she said she'd help me with it." He replied rather egotistically.

Peter looked hurt. He looked to me and back to Harley with definative anger. He began to walk away.

I quickly hit Harley's arm in frustration.

"What the hell, Keener? I was going to tell him gingerly!" I whisper-yelled at him as I began to follow Peter. He started to suit up.

"Peter." I called to him.

"Peter!" I called a little louder.

"Peter Parker!" I jogged up to meet his fast paced walk and pulled his arm.

He pulled away forcefully. He looked pained. His eyes were showing early signs of crying, but his actions showed anger.

"Leave me alone, (Y/n)." He proceeded to walk briskly to the edge of an open window.

I followed him to the edge.

We made brief eye contact before he jumped out.

"Spidey, don't make me do this!" I shouted in his direction.

No response.

"Alright, he forced my hand." I muttered to myself.

"FRIDAY, do me a favor and don't send my suit after me, okay?" I asked the A.I, knowing she'd be listning.

So I jumped out. Completely suitless. Pepper was going to kill me.

Either I end up on th street as a not so pretty decoration, or Peter'd save me. We'll find out soon enough.

I felt the wind swishing through my hair and my clothes puffing in weird directions around me. I saw the points on the ground becoming more clear. I was getting to close for comfort. This was it. Peter was actually going to let me die because he's mad at me. Talk about petty.

Suddenly I felt a familiar tug on the back of my shirt. He really waited until the last last second to web me up.

I braced myself for the intense g-force I'd experience while being pulled back to the sky.

Before I knew it, Peter and I stood on the roof of a building near the tower.

"Do us a favor and don't throw yourself off of any more buildings." He said not even prying his eyes off of the ground. He was about to take off again.

"Peter Parker, I will keep launching myself off of buildings until you and I talk!" I yell at him.

He looked at me like I was insane. Which, jury's out on that one. I might be.

"What." He stated, again not looking at me.

"You can't be the next Ironman." I said simply.

This caused him to look up. Again, he looked like I just told him the worst news in the world.

"Peter, you can't be the next Ironman because nobody can be the next Ironman. He's irreplaceable." My voice began to crack. I was definitely going to cry. No preventing that.

"Tony Stark was an enigma. He was the best and worst man. Did I ever tell you the reason he took on Scott's Time Heist was because he looked at a picture of you two? Peter, he wanted you to live, not to crack under the pressure of being the next Ironman. If he could see you now, he'd..."

"Hey, (N/n)," He began to interrupt. But I wasn't having any of it.

"Peter, I don't even know what he'd do, but I just know he would disapprove of you trying so desperately to be the 'new Ironman.' Damn what Fury says, all he cares about is finding replacements! He wants you because he knows he can control you. Hell, he already replaced Natasha with another former assassin. He doesn't care about our wellbeing. I just know you would've been too excited to recognize you were being used, so I thought if I brought Harley in, he'd help me show my point. Peter, trust me he's great, and..."

Peter shut me up by pulling me into a tight hug and shushing me. This caused me to let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in.

"I get it. I miss him too. And you know he wouldn't want to be jumping off of buildings." I felt his chest vibrations. They were oddly soothing.

"Excuse you Peter, he's the one who taught me that trick." I smiled and sniffled. He wiped my tears away and just held my face.

"Uhmh."

We both jolted around to see Harley, now decked out in his Mark I Ironlad suit.

"I hate to break up this tender moment my ex and my soon to be best friend are having, but you guys SUCK at the whole secret identity thing."

"Ex? So you two have a history?" Peter asked, looking at me awkwardly.

"I was 14, I had bad judgement."

This caused an offended noise to leave Harley's mouth, but a laugh to exit Peter's.

Yep, these two were going to be good friends.

"Alright, we should probably all head home and sleep. School starts soon." I, being the mature teenager I am, suggested.

Harley took off.

Which left me and Peter on a roof.

"So..."

"So." I smirked. "You should probably get going. May's gonna be worried."

"Yeah, well sure, but do you like need a lift or..?" His question trailed off. Suddenly it clicked when my dad would tease him about being awkward with me. Does Peter Parker like me?

Instead of a response, I tapped the edge of my glasses and watched Peter watch as my suit began flying out the tower and to me.

"I'll be fine, Parker." I smiled, though it was hidden from him.

"Tell May I said hey." And I took off towards our house.

When I landed Pepper was out, waiting for me.

I tapped the edge of my helmet and the suit began to return to its nano form.

"What's this I hear about you jumping out of the tower?!" She yells at me, obviously playfully.

"What? I needed a way to get Peter's attention." I breezed past her.

"I swear you are jus like your father! You're aging me prematurely."

"How premature can it be?" I quip back sarcastically.

I hear an offended gasp followed by a chuckle.

I went up to my room, deciding I was too tired to take a shower. I just wanted to go to bed. So I proceed with my Nighttime routine and in no time was cozy in bed.

My window curtains were drawn back. As I began to close my eyes, I swear I saw the outline of the infamous red snd blue suit watching me...

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and sent a quick text to Peter.

He almost fell from the roof he was on. But recovered quickly. He stood and waved goodbye as he swung off into the night.

PETER'S POV

I just wanted to make sure they made it home alright. I knew Mr. Stark would never let me live it down if I didn't. Besides, I knew they were beat after the vacation, so I was afraid they would mess up the directions home, or something; but part of me just wanted to see them one more time before I called it a night. So I sat on a roof parallel to their bedroom window.

I waited until they got into their bed, and was tucked under the covers. They looked ready to go to bed, but they suddenly grabbed their phone off their nightstand.

I felt my phone vibrate. I pulled it out, suspecting it was them.

'My hero, making sure I got home safely. Go get some sleep Peter, I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight x.'

I slipped when I read it. The 'x', that meant a kiss, right? Oh my God. They called me their hero. This is so much to take in.

I looked up again to see their beautiful (E/c) eyes one more time and waved them goodbye.

I jumped off of the roof and began swinging home, thinking about what adventure we'll have tomorrow. Hopefully a good one.

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

A/N: Hey, so here's a thing. I got the inspiration of the Far From Home Trailer. I'm trying to get rid of some of my lost Endgame depression, but this actually made it worse wow.

Anyway, hope you enoyed this crappily slopped together thing I wrote during school.

[antiquatedfuture]

Zine Care Packages (Antiquated Future Spring Newsletter)

What a challenging time. Things have felt pretty bleak and I debated about whether to send this spring newsletter a lot, but friends convinced me we're all in need of good news. If nothing else, I want to say two things: 1) We'll still be shipping orders (with plenty of hand-washing and sanitizing) several times a week. 2) While we always appreciate and need your financial support, we'd also like to offer the resources we have to any of you who are having a hard time. 

In short: We're offering free zines (and tapes and books) to anyone who's currently struggling financially, mentally, or physically right now. No need to tell us details, just email and say "I'd like a package," and we'll send one your way. Let it be a surprise or make a list of what you'd like and we'll send you what we can. Feel free to spread the word to your friends and community through our Facebook or Twitter posts. It's not much, admittedly, but hopefully it's something.

In more general distro news: we have a few more calendars & planners in stock (and very very on sale), we’ve been restocking things as much as we can, and we accidentally left up our temporary store-wide cassette sale (that also includes a decent handful of LPs and CDs) as well as our zine sale on select titles. We also just posted a newsletter from the record label side of Antiquated Future. We're currently lending some small financial assistance to Portland writer Martha Grover as she recovers from a brain surgery by selling a fundraiser pack of her Somnambulist zine. And if you're in the Portland area, we're helping do porch deliveries of food, baby supplies, and various resources. Please reach out if you'd like one or you know someone in need.

NEW ZINES Antonia- A rare, almost-sublime zine about place, memory, and lost history. About the ways things change and stay the same. About how the place you're from shapes who you become. About growing up in a small Midwestern town without a zip code, a place not on most maps. ($5) Behind the Zines #9: A Zine About Zines- The latest issue of newest best zine about zines around. Within: the evolution of DIY comics culture, zine-fest history, imagined zines, One Punk's Guide to collaborative zines, a history of that one Crimethinc poster, The Most Unwanted Zine, confessions of a sex-zine zinester. Contributions from our own Gina Sarti, as well as John Porcellino and so many others. ($3) Brainscan #34: A Dabbler's Week of DIY Witchery- In the wake of the controversy surrounding a recent viral article about spending a week "becoming a witch," Alex considers what her guide to a witchcraft practice would look like. The results are a day-by-day guide to trying out her particular variety of secular witchcraft (that she lovingly refers to as "DIY witchery"). ($4)

Caboose #12: Jury Duty- A personal story of serving as a juror on a medical malpractice suit. As usual, Liz Mason's playful, endlessly curious take on the world makes this a ride worth taking. A peek into the court system through the eyes of this long-running zine-star. ($4) Clock Tower Nine #15- One of our favorite Seattle zines is back with tales from the record store counter, long walks in various locales, dangerous doppelgängers, and 8-track tapes. As Clock Tower Nine ringleader Danny Noonan describes it in the introduction: "This fanzine is like a bunch of people sitting around a fire in late fall, all taking turns telling a story." ($3) Cometbus #59: Post-Mortem- How does Cometbus, after 38 years as a zine, just get better and better? It's a mystery, but it does. Issue 59 is a deep dive into both death and longevity in the underground. In short: what does sustainability look like in counterculture? This question takes Aaron on a journey from the Epitaph Records and Thrasher magazine offices to hanging out at a punk-owned vegan donut shop and a tamale stand at the farmer's market with Allison Wolfe (of Bratmobile). ($5)

Doris #23- A back-issue fave from one of the best zines ever. Long personal stories that look both outward and inward in surprising ways. ($2) Doris #26- Shy-punk-girl comics, social ecology, the cynical hour, a grandpa who built malls, hammer and nail history, and more. ($2) Eulalia #3- Two issues of the art zine Eulalia in one. Grief and romance, hand-in-hand. Gorgeously designed! Letterpress-printed covers. Each issue is bound with a special do-si-do binding, so each half can be read separately. ($10) Fluke Fanzine #17- Since 1991, Fluke has been creating great variety zines covering all realms of punk and underground culture. Graphic novelist Nate Powell, skateboard magazine historians, Maximum Rocknroll, R.E.M., '90s women-led punk, the Soophie Nun Squad family tree, more. ($3)

Forever & Everything #5- Comics on parenting, depression, coffee, therapy, alcohol, Willie Nelson, Charlie Brown, and living in New Orleans. ($5) Good Days Gone Cold Days- A photography zine/art zine made while living and working in "a house without heat, without doorknobs, and without much insulation or electricity to speak of" for a late fall in western Pennsylvania. Comes with homemade bookmark, building permit, and banjo tab. ($12) Keep Loving, Keep Fighting #8- A reprint of this 2008 issue of Keep Loving, Keep Fighting. Forty pages of feeling at home in New Orleans, communication between friends, death, visiting Montreal, and moving away. ($5)

Learning Good Consent- An essential compilation zine about consent. From personal stories to worksheets, approaches, definitions, resources, and beyond, Learning Good Consent is here to help us all feel more comfortable and be more respectful. ($4)

Little Leagues #1- The companion comics scrapbook to Simon Moreton's epic Minor Leagues series. Prose, comics and photos about being in Japan, making chutney, experiencing autumn. ($3) Little Leagues #2- Comics about being in the snow. Drawings and photos of spring. A fold-out cover with facts about lesser-spotted dogfish. ($3) Our Lady of Near Death Experiences- Jodi Darby writes about becoming a cross-country truck driver as a 23-year-old woman in the mid 1990s. A mini-memoir told in vignettes, Our Lady is a twisted love song to the road in all its complexities. A gorgeous reprint of this zine classic from 1998. (And we have the last few copies before it goes out of print!) ($10)

The Paruretic #1: The Story of a Guy Who's Pee Shy- The first issue of one of our favorite new zine series. The Paruretic tells what the intricacies and complexities of life with parusesis, the social phobia of being pee shy. Illuminating, accessible, and worth reading every issue. ($2)

The Paruretic #2: The Story of a Guy Who's Pee Shy (College)- In this issue, Mark recalls figuring out the debilitating effects of his bladder issues when he goes to college and, for the first time, navigates living in dorms, drinking at college-town bars, and hooking-up. ($3)

The Paruretic #3: The Story of a Guy Who's Pee Shy (Vacation)- In this issue: searching out acceptable bathrooms while on the road, not urinating for ten hours while in the air, and a bathroom-by-bathroom diary of experiences. ($3) The Paruretic #4: The Story of a Guy Who's Pee Shy (The Search for Help)- In this issue, Mark reaches out, looking for help, and is met with a less-than-sympathetic medical system. Within: clueless medical professionals, almost losing a job over a urinalysis, and finally finding someone who understands. ($3) The Paruretic #5: The Story of a Guy Who's Pee Shy (Dating)- The dating issue covers how Mark handled (or avoided handling) dating in high school and college. It's a chronicle of, as Mark says, "how my shy bladder has driven every part of my love life." ($3)

Somnambulist Zine Pack Fundraiser- For the past 17 years, Portland memoirist and illustrator Martha Grover has been publishing Somnambulist zine, an expansive and playful look at the world at large (and easily one of the best zines running today). This pack includes all nine in-print issues of Somnambulist (a $40 value for $25!). All proceeds go straight to Martha's brain surgery recovery fund. Help a great writer, get nine amazing zines. ($25) Somnambulist #33: How to Survive the Portland Winter- A fun how-to guide from Portland-born writer Martha Grover. Within: dealing with all the rain, taking care of your mental health, venturing out, staying in, eating soup (with recipes!), and the truth about umbrellas. Illustrated by Liz Yerby. ($5)

Somnambulist #34: The Starfish- A single, long-form essay about Martha's journey through Cushing's disease and Addison's disease, and the lingering tumor she's chosen to not demonize or see as something separate. The Starfish is a surprising and exciting meditation on what it means to be in a body. ($3) Surely, They'll Tear it Down- A short zine letter about gender, race, identity, and not-knowing from the author of Fixer Eraser and We, the Drowned. ($2) Tattoo Punk Fanzine, Issue 3- A jam-packed new issue of Tattoo Punk, the fanzine about tattoos, punks, and tattooed punks. Edited by Ben Trogdon of everyone's favorite artsy punk paper, Nuts! ($15) Valentines Every Day- Weirdo anytime-valentines from zine-seller extraordinaire, Julie Wade. Funny, bizarre, off-kilter, occasionally unsettling. The perfect gift for that especially-odd someone. ($6) What Happened- A dreamy comic from UK artist Simon Moreton. Set in a '90s boyhood of meadows, sci-fi VHS tapes, MTV, crushes, first kisses. ($5) 

NEW BOOKS & MISCELLANY The Collected Plays by Portland Preschoolers- In short: One of our favorite little books around! A modern classic, even. Five years of collected plays written by Portland, Oregon preschoolers. Hilarious, invariably bizarre, oddly brilliant, sometimes surprisingly profound. Perfect for putting out on the coffee table, reading aloud to friends, impromptu group performances. ($10) Four-Year Depression- A book about figuring out how to love your family in the Trump era. From Billy McCall of Proof I Exist and Behind the Zines. ($10) Zine Game- A long-time favorite in the zine community, now in a fancy, professionally-made version accessible to all game lovers. Playing like a cross between canasta and Magic: The Gathering, Zine Game is all about building your own zines. A really fun time with tons of possibilities. ($16)

NEW MUSIC & SPOKEN WORD Alice Notley "Live in Seattle"- An LP of one of the most adored living poets. Alice Notley pushes boundaries, and it's an absolute joy to hear her reading her work. (LP + digital download) ($16.95) Annelyse Gelman & Jason Grier "About Repulsion"- A collaboration between poet Annelyse Gelman and sound artist Jason Grier. About Repulsion mixes songs, sampled poems, textural walls, beats, noise, to create this EP of one-of-a-kind soundscapes. (LP + digital download) ($16.95) Eileen Myles "Aloha / Irish Trees"- The legendary poet Eileen Myles, on vinyl for the first time. Aloha/Irish Trees features nearly an hour of Myles live in the studio, reading past and present poems. Intimate, playful, raw. (LP + digital download) ($16.95)

Harmony Holiday "The Black Saint and the Sinnerman"- Harmony Holiday's record of poems and sound collage. Adventurous and accessible, twisting cultural images into something surprising, political, socially aware. In conversation with Charles Mingus’ classic 1963 album The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady. (LP + digital download) ($16.95) Rae Armantrout "Conflation"- Fifty-four surprising and gloriously unique poems from Rae Armantrout, a Pulitzer-winning poet of great gifts. (LP + digital download) ($16.95) Susan Howe & Nathaniel Mackey  "Stray: A Graphic Tone"- Made in collaboration with Shannon Ebner, Stray: A Graphic Tone juxtaposes historic and recent material from poets Susan Howe and Nathaniel Mackey. An adventurous LP of spoken word delights. (LP + digital download) ($16.95)

Stay well, take care of each other as much as possible. Xo, Antiquated Future

[freddiesaysalright]

Catching Up Part IX

A Joe Mazzello x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a writer for an entertainment news network and after Joe comes in to do an interview, they reconnect. Unexpectedly, they’re having a child together.

Word Count: 2.7K

Tag List: @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @jennyggggrrr @somethinginthewayiam @grandaddy-roger-trash @rogerloveshiscar @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing @danamaleksworld @mrsmazzello @reedusteinrambles @rexorangecouny @caborhapch @kurt-nightcrawler @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @queendeakyy @hotttspace @anxious-diabetic @someone-get-a-medic  If you want to be added, let me know!

Part I  Part II  Part III  Part IV  Part V

Part VI  Part VII  Part VIII

A/N: No worries, things are cheering up in this one :)

Part IX here we go!

That night was one you long considered one of the worst of your life. No matter what Joe tried, you couldn’t move past the anxiety and humiliation of what Nick had done. You knew you had to settle your heart rate, but nothing helped. And you couldn’t take anything because most medication wasn’t safe for the baby. Joe just held you as your body heaved with sobs. You stayed awake the whole night, crying and agonizing over where to go from here. When day broke again, you were still an absolute mess.

Joe urged you to go forward pressing charges, and he suggested adding this to the list. But you weren’t sure. You hardly felt like leaving your apartment, much less like confronting the man who’d done this. It was going to take so much of you and you weren’t sure you could handle it. It felt like too much. It was all too big and you were so small.

“If this happened to our child,” Joe said. “What would you want them to do?”

You had to stop and take another breath. The thought of anyone doing something like this to your baby made you so mad you spit nails, but you considered it. You would want your son or daughter to tell the Nicks in their lives to get fucked, and do everything in their power to put them away.

“I’d want them to press charges,” you said. “That is if I hadn’t already killed the person responsible.”

He chuckled. “Let’s hope we never face that. I’d miss you if you went to prison.”

You giggled, and finally, your body began to ease. You were backing slowly away from the edge now, Joe at your side, ever the comfort.

“I really have to do this, huh?” you wondered.

Joe nodded. “You can do it, baby. You’ve already come so far. You faced him at the precinct, and you can face him again. Pictures be damned.”

“I’m really scared,” you admitted.

“Well, you’re not going alone,” he assured you. “I’ll be there. Christy will be there. And of course little Baby will be with you.”

Your mouth turned upward in a small smile as you looked down at your little bump. “I’m gonna be strong for you, little one.”

“I love that you talk to him,” Joe said. “I think that’s so sweet.”

“I feel like it makes me a little bit crazy,” you returned.

“You’re not crazy,” he said. “You’re amazing.”

You knew he was talking about more than just the baby. You leaned into him and you actually started to feel drowsy now that you were calmed down.

“I feel so lucky,” you said as you closed your eyes.

“You do?” he questioned.

“To have found you again,” you explained. “That through all of this, I have you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he replied. “That out of everyone in the world, I found the one girl I never stopped thinking about. And now we’re having a baby together.”

You smiled, unable to ward off sleep any longer. As the sun lit up the room, you and Joe found your rest in each other.

When you turned up at work on Monday, Don immediately called you into his office. Nervous, you sat down across from him. He looked so serious. Not in his usual way, either. If you didn’t know any better, you would have guessed he was going to tell you that someone died. You waited for him to speak.

“So, over the weekend, I received some photographs,” he said.

Your head fell forward as a wave of embarrassment came over you. Taking a deep breath, you told Don everything. He listened carefully, trying to understand the situation. When you finished, you tried to gauge his reaction, but his expression was difficult to read. For a moment, you expected him to dismiss you. You wouldn’t blame him if he did.

“Y/N,” he began, and you were surprised by the gentleness of his tone. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you. If there is anything I or the company can do to help you through this let me know. Our legal team is excellent, and I’ll speak to them about protections for you.”

You gaped at him, stunned. When Nick did this the first time, your boss fired you immediately. It was why you wrote under a byline now. Now Don - who was usually kind of an asshole - was offering understanding and support.

“You’re being...awfully gracious about this,” you said.

“I did a story a few years ago on revenge porn,” he told you. “I saw first hand the effects of it. Now I understand your thing with cameras. I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I won’t ask you to do that again.”

“Don…”

“Don’t thank me or anything,” he said. “Just give him hell in court on Thursday, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, okay.”

All too soon, the day was upon you. The first court date. Part of you hoped that Nick wouldn’t show up. If it were only up to him, you knew he wouldn’t, but his mother paid his bail, so she would ensure he went so she wouldn’t be stuck with the cost. The prosecutor approached you and went over what you would need to do. It wasn’t much. Just tell your story. It helped that since he’d left jail, he got an armed robbery charge added to his rap sheet, so the indictment would be pretty easy. Joe and Christy squeezed your hands with encouragement.

Your stomach turned, but not in a way you were familiar with. It wasn’t even really your stomach. It was the baby. You gasped at the sensation of it moving around. Joe and Christy exchanged worried glances.

“Joe, feel,” you said, putting his hand there. You applied some pressure.

“Holy shit” he gasped. “The baby’s already moving?”

You nodded. “I’ve never felt it before…”

He laughed with joy and it took all your willpower not to kiss him. But the moment was stolen when the prosecutor called you inside.

It went like the prosecutor said. It took a couple hours and was mostly waiting. But he secured the indictment and there would be another court date in the fall unless Nick took a plea bargain. He didn’t seem interested in that, but for now, he was returning to jail to wait. You felt a little safer. Thankfully, throughout the process, he didn’t try to talk to you. He acted like you weren’t even in the room. You were grateful. You still had nightmares about the way he screamed at you that day, and the cold shoulder was preferred. He did shoot Christy a few glares across the room though. She very subtly flipped him off.

When it was over, you felt a little better, but you didn’t look forward to going through this again and in front of a jury. For now though, you could relax. The weight was lifted for the moment.

“I’m proud of you,” Joe said, kissing your cheek as you walked out of the courthouse.

“It’s just the first step,” you replied. “I feel like there’s still all this way to go.”

“But you did it,” Christy said. “I’m going to meet my sweetie for some food. You guys wanna join us?”

You shook your head. “I’m exhausted. I just want to go home.”

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

She gave you and Joe hugs as she said goodbye. Then she bent down to speak to your tummy.

“Bye, Baby!” she cooed.

With a final wave, she walked to her waiting Uber. You and Joe made your way to your car. He held your door open and then got in the driver’s seat. You sighed. You were ready to sleep, even though it was early evening.

“We have one stop I wanna make before going back to your place,” Joe said.

“Where’s that?” you wondered.

“Our house,” he told you. “I got the keys while you were at work yesterday.”

“Really?” you gasped. “It’s ready?”

He nodded. “Pretty much. I know we have a lot of time since your lease isn’t up until August, but I want you to see it.”

You smiled lazily. “I want to see it. Take my mind off of all of this.”

He took your hand he drove out there. You didn’t talk for most of the ride because you were so tired. You closed your eyes, the city disappearing behind your lids, and dozed. Joe woke you when he pulled into the little driveway of your house. It was a beautiful brick residence, with a white front door and a cast iron railing going up the porch steps.

“I love it,” you said.

He chuckled. “You haven’t even seen the best part.”

He helped you out of the car and together you walked inside. The inside was equally stunning. Hard wood floors gleamed in the light. The kitchen counters - which were granite - sparkled and shined. The windows were large, so plenty of natural light got into each room. He took you upstairs and showed you the master bedroom, which was a great size. It had two more bedrooms of smaller sizes, but were also charming.

“I figured those could be the kids’ rooms,” he said as he led you around.

“Kids?” you questioned. “Plural?”

“Well, we’re gonna have more, right?” he said.

“I guess so,” you returned playfully. “But let’s focus on the first one.”

“I am!” he insisted. “I just...I dunno, I think about our future a lot.”

“How many do you want?” you asked.

“Two would be perfect,” he told you. “A boy and a girl. And we’d have a dog too - a golden retriever since they’re so gentle, y’know? This place is great since there’s a small yard, but there’s also a park down the road. There’s a spare room downstairs I figured could be a guest room for when the grandparents or Christy visit.”

You giggled. As you looked around the house, you saw it too. The life you could build with Joe. In this house. It all came together around you. You imagined the family photos on the walls. How it might look decorated for Christmas. The kids running down the hall, laughing.

“Joe, it’s perfect,” you said.

“Think about this,” he told you. “When you’re feeling overwhelmed. Remember what you’re picturing now, and focus on that.” He cradled your face in his hands and kissed your forehead.

“I love you so much,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” he returned holding you close now.

You stood in the second floor hallway, holding each other. This ordeal with Nick was a passing thing. Joe, and everything he had given you, that was forever. You would hold on to that.

Summer pressed on, and your belly grew even more. Joe left two more times in the five weeks before the doctor’s appointment where you would find out the sex of the baby. He promised he would be there for that. In the meantime, you began packing up your apartment. Christy was supportive, and told you that she and her boyfriend were discussing living together, so the timing was actually perfect. She did say she would come over plenty to see the baby. It was the end of an era for you both, but you were excited for the new things in each other’s lives.

You also worked on taking pictures of yourself. You really liked Snapchat because the pictures were deleted after opening and that made you more comfortable. Although, Joe frequently got screenshots of your silliest faces. You got him back, but his Snapchats were so often hilarious, you had to stop or you’d run out of space on your phone.

You were also monitoring your growth each week. You took those pictures just for you, but you showed them to Joe when he was in town. He was astounded by it, even though the changes were minimal right now. He also made sure to tell you how beautiful he found you.

Finally, twenty weeks came. You were so ready to discover the sex, although you guessed it was a boy. Christy thought it was a girl. Joe said he hoped it was a boy, but only because you already had a name picked out for a boy, and neither of you could decide on girl names. The problem was that there were too many that you loved.

As usual, you watched the screen and this time it looked more like a baby, especially in profile. Looking straight on was a different sight, for sure. Still, you were excited. You squeezed Joe’s hand in anticipation.

“Would you like to know the sex?” Dr. Jones asked.

“Yes, please!” you and Joe said together.

She chuckled. “It’s a boy.”

You and Joe beamed at each other. You started laughing, overcome with joy.

“A boy,” you sighed, still taking it in. “I knew it.”

“Congratulations,” Dr. Jones said as Joe kissed you swiftly on the lips. She glanced at your chart again and her smile faltered.

“What is it?” you asked. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s not something to worry too much about,” she said. “But your blood pressure is higher than normal. Blood pressure does rise during pregnancy, but this is above average. Are you experiencing any unusual stress?”

You and Joe exchanged an almost amused look. Where could you even begin?

“Well, I just had to press charges against my ex-boyfriend,” you said. “There’s another court date coming up in October. The father of my child is in and out of town. I’m moving in less than a month. On top of all of that, I’m still working and carrying a baby.”

“That is a lot,” she said seriously. “I need you to find ways to destress because high blood pressure can lead to problems during delivery. You can take baby aspirin to help, but don’t rely too much on that.”

“What can I do to destress?” you wondered.

“That’s up to you,” she replied. “If you need to do a face mask and take a bath every night then do so. Are you two still having sex regularly?”

“Oh, yeah,” Joe said.

“That’s good,” she said with a smile. “Sex can relieve a lot of stress as long as both partners reach orgasm. But on the days when he’s not there, you’ll still need to make an effort to keep yourself calm.”

“She struggles with anxiety,” he added.

“Joe!” you hissed.

“It’s important that she knows,” he insisted.

“He’s right,” Dr. Jones agreed. “I see you’re not taking anything for it, and I recommend that you don’t right now. What do you usually do to get through an anxiety attack?”

“Joe shows me stupid YouTube videos,” you explained.

“Then watch stupid YouTube videos as well,” she said. “Whatever reminds you that the problems you’re facing aren’t nearly as big as your brain is telling you they are.”

“Okay, we can do that,” you assured her.

“Now, I don’t want to add to your stress, but I’m going on a trip for a few months,” she said. “I’m going to be in Kenya until January, teaching and helping out in their hospitals. I’ve gotten another doctor, Dr. Chris Barrow, to cover my patients. He’s in surgery today, but he’ll meet you for your next appointment. Are you okay with having a man as your doctor?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you said. “I think it’s amazing what you’re doing. Will you be back for the delivery?”

She nodded. “Yes. Dr. Barrow will assist me for your delivery. So, the next time I see you, we will all be meeting your son.”

You squealed with delight. “Thank you so much!”

“Really,” Joe agreed, shaking her hand. “We’re so excited.”

“I’m excited too,” she said. “Be careful, and be sure to stay relaxed! If you need anything that Dr. Barrow can’t get you, I’ll have email.”

You thanked her again before you left. When you got outside you looked at Joe.

“We’re having a son!” you cried, throwing your arms around his neck.

“I know!” he shouted, spinning you around. “A beautiful baby boy!”

“Joseph Francis Mazzello IV,” you said, rubbing a hand down your belly. “I can’t wait to meet you.”

[niall-official]

Happy 28th! I’ve read some great fics this month, old and new. These are in alphabetical order and, as always, please give kudos and comments on fics you’ve enjoyed! I’m still over at @verylarryfics reblogging more fic posts each day!

📚 Asleep and Dreaming by MrsStylinson (Harry/Louis, 20k) Harry still gets breathless just looking at him but after being best friends for two years you kind of just learn to laugh. Even when all you really want to do is stick your tongue down your best friend’s throat. Or perhaps that’s just Harry?

Or the one where Harry pines for a boy who completely turned his world upside down, not to mention his flat. As for Louis, he’s just a lot better at playing dead than he looks. Featuring night-time confessions, penis cakes and the inconvenience of falling in love.

📚 Big, Bright World by RealName (Harry/Louis, 35k) It really was just a little crush in the beginning, nothing to be worried about. Louis had never really liked anyone he'd worked with in the past, but he was sure he could control himself. Little did he know that over time his 'little crush' would develop into a blazing inferno of Hell-fire proportions. Every day, Louis' feelings became more intense, more immediate, each little smile and gesture and silly flirtation mounting up into something palpable, with a life of its own. Louis felt it every moment they were together.

The only problem? Harry was engaged to someone else and had been from the moment Louis started working at Visionary.

📚 Failure to Launch by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings​ (Harry/Louis, 29k)  Desperate times call for desperate measures when Louis’ mother realizes her adult son may never leave the comfort of home, so she hires Harry, a highly-recommended professional interventionist who’s skilled enough to help push her darling son out of the bloody nest.

📚 i gotta get better! by reveries_passions / @dystopianharry​ (Harry/Louis, 4k) harry’s sex life has been pretty nonexistent since he broke up with his last non-soulmate boyfriend. after a chance encounter with someone online, he decides to enlist them to help him out. no strings attached, obviously.

or soulmates can feel each others’ pain and harry has some kinks he wants to explore.

📚 I'm Not Scared Of Love by EscapeFromReality777 (Liam/Zayn, 3k) "Show me Liam... teach me." Z murmurs, and Liam almost gives in, hearing his breathy voice. "...you must have practice... no one can resist you.. teach me your ways." Zayn continues in the same low voice, coming closer, beginning to corner Liam against the head-board, reminding Liam very much of a predator stalking it's prey.

"Not even you?" Liam jokes... well, tries to joke. And if his voice almost gives out in between... and if he thinks he briefly sees Zayn's eyes light up, well, no one has to know that.."

Or.. the Ziam one shot in which Zayn is pining, Liam is oblivious, jealous and pining, and with a wee bit of sexual tension, "forever" ensues. (Inspired by the very much canon 'Come on then, come on' ziam incident)

📚 I’ve Been Hoping You’d Be Somewhere Better Than This by runaway_train / @runaway-train-works​ (Harry/Louis, 39k) “Does she know who it is then, from the New York office?” Louis enquires.

“Yeah, some guy Henry? Henry Styles I think she said?"

“Harry.”

“What?"

“Harry. His name is Harry Styles.” His heart sank. Louis hadn’t met him, they had only shared a couple of emails back and forth, but he knew exactly who he was. And Harry hadn’t just been killing it in the Big Apple, he’s been ripping the place to absolute shreds, nailing some of the most lucrative accounts in the business.Louis is so fucked.

Or

The one where Louis is up for a promotion, he just has one tiny, little problem standing in his way.

📚 In All Its Imperfections by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite​ (Harry/Louis, 15k) From: Louis Tomlinson To: Undisclosed Recipients

Hello!

I’ve asked the front desk and you lovely folks are the ones who are on the same level as me in the car park. I found a to-do list today that looked somewhat important because it has lines of poetry scribbled at the bottom that seemed like they might be for a card project. The stationary has a moose in a canoe at the top of it (and he is quite adorable). Let me know if it’s yours!

Cheers!

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Harry whispered, his eyes darting over the sentences again willing them not to make sense. They did, they did make sense. “Oh. My. Bloody. Fucking. God.”

The next thing he knew he was on the floor, staring at the ceiling, with a very concerned Liam hovering over his head.

"What happened, mate?" Liam asked.

Harry just pointed to his computer.

Liam bent over Harry’s desk to read the email. “What? This isn’t bad. Is that your to-do list? Did you finally come up with the inside text for those cards?”

“Leeyum" he groaned. “It’s what’s on the list.”

“Oh,” Liam paused for a beat. “Is it dirty stuff?”

Harry nodded.

There was more silence. And then, “Dirty stuff with Louis?”

📚 In Which Calvin Klein Inadvertently Causes A Gay Panic by allsassnoclass (Niall/Shawn, 2k) The thing is, Niall has always considered himself the token straight member of One Direction, but he feels like he really shouldn't be looking at his best friend's thighs like that. 

📚 Just Go With It by rainbowslovehl / @rainbowsandlovehl (Harry/Louis, 6k) “Brett, there’s something I need to tell you,” he started, inwardly cringing at his choice of words before taking in a deep breath. Brett seemed curious, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “The reason I haven’t been texting you back is that...” “Harry, they were all out of organic guacamole,” a raspy, unfamiliar male voice interrupted, startling him into silence. “So I got us the normal one. Hope that’s alright?”

Harry has no idea how to escape awkward situation but luckily for him, Louis swoops in to help.

📚 Leave Your Mark On Me by FullOnLarrie / @fullonlarrie (Harry/Louis, 32k) When Chef Harry Styles’ unbonded Omega designation threatens to derail his career, he does the only thing he can, and goes in search of a black market bond.

📚 Love Will Tear Us Apart by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10 (Harry/Louis, 103k) “You ruined my fucking life, Harry. You stopped me living my dream because you’re a selfish bastard who couldn’t keep himself clean for five fucking minutes. You took away my independence, my freedom, my choices, Harry. And I hate you for that, I hate you!”

As he spat out the final words, Louis felt all of the fight go out of him. He slumped back into the chair, his heart racing his chest, his head beginning to swim. It was a familiar feeling, and one Louis didn't like. He looked up, finally meeting Harry’s gaze for the first time in a while.

“Out of everyone in my life, Harry, I never thought you’d be the one to hurt me. Not like this.”

A story of two halves.

Louis and Harry had it all - a career, friendship, and some of the best sex either of them had ever had.

But Harry ruins it all with one life-changing mistake ... and Louis is left to pay the price.

📚 make you never wanna leave by anonymous (Harry/Louis, 9k) “But that's fine?” Now Louis just looks confused. “There are so many ways you can have fun sex. Wetness is helpful but not a requirement.”

Harry can feel his face heating up. The way Louis said fun sex, like it's that easy, like he has all the experience. He might be a year older than Harry, but Harry's not quite sure if age is the only factor at play here. He doesn't know why the thought of Louis having sex makes his heart start to race again and he especially doesn't know why the next thing he blurts out is, “You could show me.”

or, Harry is an omega teen who has trouble getting wet even when he's turned on, Louis is his omega best friend who helps him experiment. In a completely platonic way, of course.

📚 Never Mind the Furthermore Anonymous (Harry/Louis, 7k) Louis and Harry have regular phone sex. But they're just friends, okay?

📚 O! Yes! by homosociallyyours / @homosociallyyours (Harry/Louis, 2k) Louis is a somewhat sexually awkward omega into other omegas. When an omega-centric sex shop opens near his favorite coffee shop, he definitely doesn't plan to check it out.

One friendly ambush later, he's standing inside and talking with a too pretty omega about things that definitely make him blush. He's not the only one blushing, though. Harry, the cute and enthusiastic toy store employee is too.

📚 Oh, We're In Love, Aren't We? by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (Harry/Louis, 30k) After sixteen wonderful years of friendship, it's hard to imagine any grand (and usually dumb) plans they haven't had or some type of mischief they haven't gotten into together. But, when Harry suddenly finds himself without a fiance and Louis just wants to help him feel okay again, they realize falling in love is one thing they haven't done, and that's about to change.

📚 Only One at the Finish Line by Anonymous (Harry/Louis, 9k) “What don’t I know?!” Louis shouts, and then Harry is rounding on him, close enough that he can feel the heat of his body, the rage and the glory and the pain of it so close that it blinds him.

“I want to be another alpha’s omega,” is what he says, and it comes out like something reckless, something wild. Like he doesn't care anymore if Louis hates him or not, if Louis understands, he just needs to speak his truth aloud to darkness, to the slender pines that surround them like a jury panel.

📚 signs and wonders by scrunchyharry (Harry/Louis, 29k) On the surface, it looks like Louis Tomlinson has the perfect life; after all, he has the whole package: a white picket fence house (well, his doesn’t technically have a white picket fence, but work with him), a wife, a daughter and a dog. He has it all and he’s not even 30, yet.

On the surface, he could be the happiest man in the world.

The thing is, he never wanted this life. There was this boy, see, this Harry Styles, whose arrival made Louis question everything he thought he knew about himself. Before Louis could pursue it, though, before he could be brave and ask the boy out, one moment of bad luck on prom night, one single lapse of judgment, shaped his life in a way he never would have chosen. Between doing the right thing or turning into his own absent father, he knew what he had to do, even if it meant burying his dreams under the weight of a premature adulthood.

That is, until he receives an invitation for his school’s ten year reunion and sees that Harry will attend.

Could it be his second chance at happiness? At what cost?

📚 Soju (소주) by gettingaphdinlarry / @gettingaphdinmomo (Niall/Shawn, 2k) After a spectacular breakup he'd like to forget about, English language teacher Niall Horan finds himself in starting anew in Seoul, South Korea. He's perfectly content being single, but when his friends try to set him up with Shawn Mendes, well... Maybe it's time to give love another shot.

📚 Sweet Like Honey by moonygirl76 (Niall/Shawn, 7k) In a non au world where Shawn and Niall work to continue what they've built together, they find that, maybe, it's time to figure out exactly what it is they are building, and what they mean to one another.

📚 Tell me when you're ready (I'm waitin') by insufferablelovebirds / @therosiestofdaggers (Harry/Louis, 17k) When Harry's love letters to his old crushes get sent accidentally, one of his old crushes, Louis offers to help him fake a relationship but it gets complicated when feelings get involved.

Or an au loosely based off to all the boys I've loved before.

📚 The Bet by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom (Harry/Louis, 2k) Louis Tomlinson never reneges on a bet. Ever.

He may be many things - a joker, a sometimes-wayward student, a loyal friend, a Tony Award winner in the making, and a card-carrying member of the Chad Michael Murray fan club - but never, ever, a welcher. Louis makes good on his promises and does it with flare.

OR The one where Louis misjudges Harry's ability to do TLC's Waterfall rap and finds himself having to put on a one-man show for his viewing pleasure. If Louis decides to go all-in and dress the part, then that's just a bonus for his (very appreciative) one-man audience.

📚 The Lonely Planet Guide to Second Chances by 1Diamondinthesun (Harry/Louis, 102k) When Harry and Louis broke up, the last thing on Harry's mind was the non-refundable surprise trip he had booked for them across Europe. Harry was supposed to be moving on, not sightseeing with his ex. In hindsight, touring the continent with Louis was probably a bad idea. So naturally, that's exactly what Harry did.

Or, the breakup travel fic featuring romantic sunsets, awkward bed sharing, and second chances against a backdrop of some of Europe's most iconic cities.

📚 the way that you're thrilling me by Anonymous (Harry/Louis, 12k) Sometimes he wondered if everyone was pretending. Alphas were smelly and cocky and mostly arseholes, in Harry’s experience. Or at least they were at school. He didn’t understand how his friends—lovely, soft-skinned, sweet-smelling omegas—could actually want to touch them, or be touched by them.

Maybe he was just immature. That’s what his friends said, anyway. He’d want it eventually.

(Or, the one where Harry and Louis don’t enjoy sex - until they do.)

📚 this love will keep us through blinding of the eyes by Anonymous (Harry/Louis, 9k) As his other friends head into the strip club, he steps towards the bouncer, fumbling through his wallet to find his ID. He’s so distracted by his search that he hasn’t gotten a proper look at the bouncer until he’s standing right in front of him, shoving his ID into the alpha's ridiculously long, painted fingers.

Louis will blame it on the alcohol if anyone asks, but he can’t help staring intensely at the alpha in front of him, soaking up every detail of the guy. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the alpha, unable to look away from the strikingly green eyes.

It’s weird. So weird. Maybe Louis is more drunk than he thought, but he was feeling just barely tipsy only moments ago so that seems slightly unlikely. Between the long curls, the jawline so sharp it could cut glass, muscles rippling under his shirt, and endlessly long legs, this alpha is objectively the most attractive person Louis has ever seen.

But that can’t be right, because Louis’ an alpha, too.

When Louis' friends bring him to a strip club for his 18th birthday, the last thing he would have expected is leaving with a crush, let alone a crush on another alpha.

[the-digimon-tamer]

Chapter 36 - It Followed Us is out now on FanFiction.Net and ArchiveOfOurOwn! Check them out with the links or find it after the break!

Title: The Tamer v2.0 - In HIs Name

Fandom: Digimon

Rating: T

Synopsis: In the next adventure of the Digimon Tamer, the lives of Juri, Rika, and Henry change forever when digimon begin crossing over into the human world. But it’s all just a story, right? Just a book series by an author no one has seen in a long time. Why are they here and can they save their world before something worse follows the digimon?

All three groups - Digidestined, Monster Maker, and Hypnos - waited anxiously atop the Tokyo Metropolitan Building in anticipation of the Ark’s return. And every single one of them was worried about what would come through. A fully armed and equipped security team was on standby - in HAZMAT suits and geiger counters despite Izumi’s insistence that they weren’t necessary.

However, Yamaki didn’t want to chance it. He knew that these things brought radiation with them whenever they came through from their side of the Digital World. The last thing he wanted was to let these kids and their pets wander the city leaking more radiation than an X-Ray machine. He didn’t want to add sky rocketing cancer rates to the list of things his organization had to deal with. 

At first there was nothing, just a long silence that made them all uneasy. With how much time they spent waiting, day turned to night and the city’s lights came to life.

Then a loud crack of thunder roared and a dazzling flash of light appeared in front of them as the sky seemed to rip open - letting through the ornate ship he had seen before. The Ark as it were called - or Grani - according to Curly. The ship appeared right on the helipad where it had before - floating perfectly still in the air for a moment too long until it turned around to reveal the open door on the back.

And inside were the kids they’d spent the afternoon trying to rescue: Henry, Xiaochun, Rika, Kazu, Kenta, Juri, and Takato - along with their digimon. Several digimon, actually. Digimon who were most definitely not with them when they left - a weird robot, a floating pink thing, the white bunny thing everyone was making a fuss about, another brown bunny thing and a small imp in the fox’s arms. Yamaki groaned at the realization that they’d actually brought back more of the creatures with them. 

It should have been a happy moment. It could have been a happy moment, until Takato hopped out and was greeted by several of the security personnel with their weapons drawn. He threw up his hands immediately and whimpered, “I come in peace! I promise. Please put the guns down! No? Why does everyone feel the need to threaten me with a weapon today?”

“Are you seriously asking that question right now?” another boy asked as he stepped out of the ship Yamaki definitely didn’t recognize him. He expected a lot of things from them while they were in the Digital World. He didn’t expect them to bring back another human, although he probably should’ve at this point.

Once he noticed the others getting jumpy at the guns, Yamaki called out to get their attention and explained, “It’s a standard procedure. They’re not going to hurt you. Just let them make sure you’re safe and not leaking high levels of who knows what kind of radiation into the air.”

The men with the geiger counters approached, holding their devices up to the kids as Henry added, “I was feeling pretty safe until just now. What are they doing anyway? What kind of radiation do you think we have?”

“We don’t really know. Crossing the boundaries between worlds isn’t exactly a clean business. We need to make sure you’re not going to poison anyone around you and give them cancer. Hell, the last thing we need is you getting someone sick with an alien disease. Or some kind of slow acting poison.”

“Poison? Why would we do that?” little Xiaochun asked innocently enough. When one of the HAZMAT crew approached her, she shied away behind her older brother, “You’re scary.”

“Are all humans in this world like this? They’re all quite rude apparently,” the brown bunny stated with a frown. The floating pink thing added, “I don’t know, they seem alright to me. They just seem nervous. Maybe they need hugs!”

“Don’t! They might think you’re going to attack!” Kenta gasped.

“It’ll be alright, kids,” Zhenyu called out to them, trying to give some measure of comfort to his kids. After everyone was scanned, one of the HAZMAT crew called out, “We’re clear - radiation is at normal levels.”

“Finally!” the strange boy declared, pushing his way past the guards towards the nearest exit, “Well, it’s been fun but I’m heading home. I’m several years late on my curfew and I miss my parents.”

“Hold it,” Yamaki moved in front of the boy to keep him from escaping, “You weren’t part of the group when the kids went to the Digital World. Who are you?”

The boy groaned, “Oh you’re going to love this. Have a seat. We’re going to be here a while.”

…

As soon as the all clear was given, the Izumis wasted no time hurrying over to their daughter to hug her. And the poor girl was quickly overwhelmed, trying to push the two grown adults away in annoyance, “Mom! Dad! Get off!”

“And for a moment I thought you looked almost adorable Ruki,” Renamon mused from behind her with delight. Rika rolled her eyes, but smiled in appreciation of her parents. There hadn’t really been a family moment like that in a while. Hell, they hadn’t been together like this in some time - or rather for a few weeks. And it was good to see them getting along. And of Henry and his sister were having their moment with his parents. Kazu seemed to be trying to put up a brave face about the whole thing, with Kenta following his lead. After all, neither of them had told their respective families so there was no reason for them to know. Hell, they were probably worried sick about him. However, Guardromon spoiled the whole thing by pointing out a malfunction in his lacrimal gland - something Kazu didn’t understand, “My what?”

“It means you’re crying,” Miss Kamiya explained, crossing her arms, “Still, we’re glad to see you’re alright.”

“No biggie! So how long were we gone for?” Kazu answered smugly.

“A couple of hours,” Miss Kamiya answered, making his jaw fall to the floor, “Hours? It was weeks for us!”

“Time moves differently between worlds,” she responded.

Then there was the last set of parents: the Matsudas. And they seemed almost disappointed to see only one Takato there. Or rather Tamerkato. She knew where this was going and didn’t want to watch, looking away towards her parents. But both pf her parents seemed aware of what was going on. Her dad frowned, “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t even know the guy,” she answered sheepishly. That was right, she didn’t know him. So why did it hurt to think about it? 

Rika’s eyes went downward band she tried to pretend what was about to happen wasn’t. But it wasn’t just the Takato situation she didn’t want to think about. There was so much to talk the about - the danger in the Digital World, the fact that they may have to go back to prevent it from destroying the Digital and reaching this world, amid all the other things that happened. For now though, all she wanted was to be with her parents. Although she wasn’t about to admit that. Then she remembered Ryo and Juri’s situation. 

Ryo just wanted to go home after what had been twenty years of travel in the Digital World. Meanwhile, Juri had to watch her partner die in front of her. Tamerkato shared some responsibility for both. And now he had to answer for the real Takato - to the real Takato’s parents after promising to bring him back. She really didn’t envy him right now.

However, it seemed he didn’t want to answer for it either - instead opting to talk to Yamaki, “Let him go home. He’s had twenty years. Let him see his parents.”

“That’s all the more reason for us to hold him,” Yamaki countered, “Who knows what kind of diseases he’s brought back with him!? He could be sick and we wouldn’t know! We can’t be too careful.”

Tamerkato glanced once at Ryo, “I think he looks fine.”

Yamaki groaned, “I’m going to take the word of a medical professional over you.”

Tamerkato sighed and held up his digivice, “Where do you live?”

“Odaiba,” Ryo answered grimly, staring at him with increasing impatience. Tamerkato nodded, pressing a few buttons on his digivice, “You’ve got maybe a ten minute head start. Move quickly and try not to be seen. And see if you can keep him quiet. Understand?”

Ryo nodded quietly. Monodramon wasn't following and blurted out, “Hey! Why should I be quiet!?”

Yamaki looked between the two boys and asked, “What are you two planning?”

“This,” Takato answered with the biggest grin on his face before pointing his digivice at Ryo, “Good luck. Digiport open!”

Yamaki realized one second too late what was going on and tried to grab a hold of Ryo and Monodramon just before he vanished in a brilliant but dazzling display of light. Ryo was gone, possibly back to his won, world leaving Yamaki to stare at Tamerkato in anger, “What the hell did you do!?”

“I sent him back to his family,” Tamerkato flicked the man’s nose and looked over at the Matsudas. Yamaki grabbed a hold of him and raised him up in anger, “What do you mean you sent him back to his family!?”

“I’m sorry, I thought I was pretty clear,” Tamerkato remarked. Yamaki cursed under his breath and turned to one of his agents, “Get a team to Odaiba now and track that Ryo kid down now. Riley, start looking this kid up - missing child named Ryo. Find his address, family, everything. Tally, get a HAZMAT team ready to intercept him!”

“Sir!” the team of agents said as they disappeared back into the building to carry out their orders. Takato turned to the Matsudas now and his smile disappeared as he made his way over to them. Rika could only imagine what was going through his head. Tamerkato would have to tell their parents the truth about their son. And she didn’t want to imagine how they were going to take that news. Her dad tried to move her so that she wouldn’t see, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so, “Ruki, you don’t have to deal with-”

“I know,” she heard herself say. 

“Honey, shut up,” her mom squeezed his shoulder to silence him. If he didn’t understand the message then, he certainly did when a loud slap rang out. Rika closed her eyes, took a deep breath and finally looked back at the Matsudas to see Tamerkato on the ground with a red mark on his cheek. What she thought was a slap was actually a fist from Mister Matsuda, he was only held back from giving another one by his wife. Tamerkato’s expression was empty - not sad or hurt. Just empty. Guilmon, on the other hand, was in front of him and growling at Mister Matsuda for laying a hand on him. Tamerkato however, didn’t even try to look at them. He didn’t smile his stupid smile or frown or anything. He rubbed the sore spot on his cheek and looked away, “I’m sorry.”

“You better be!” Mister Matsuda snapped angrily. Tamerkato still didn’t look at him, quietly wrapping his hands around his digivice before murmuring, “Digiport Open!”

There was a bright flash and he was gone. Yamaki was mad now, stamping his foot on the roof, “Dammit, now we’re missing two of them.”

“Good riddance,” Mister Matsuda grumbled while his wife turned him around, “Honey! Don’t say that!”

“Our son is dead because of him!”

“We don’t know that!” she reasoned, “We don’t what happened over on the other side!”

“We know our son went missing and then he showed up shortly after!” Mister Matsuda practically screamed back, cooling when he saw his wife flinch back. He took a minute to breath deep before looking back towards her, “You, um...Rika? What happened over there!? What happened to our son?”

“Don’t involve our daughter in this,” her mom stepped in front of her, “She had nothing to do with whatever bullshit Tamer is pulling!”

“Mom!” Rika gasped in surprise at her mother’s sudden use of vulgar language. She didn’t even know her mother had it in her but there it was plain as day. Mister Matsuda pointed at her angrily and shouted, “Your daughter went with him to the Digital World. I want to know what he did. I want to know what you found out! What happened to Takato!?”

Rika cursed under her breath, unaware that Tamerkato would leave her to have to deal with explaining the truth to the Matsudas. She should’ve known this would happen. Still, she couldn’t blame him. She didn’t want to be the one to tell him. And after the temper tantrum he threw in the Digital World, she was unsure of how much anger he’d be letting loose now. Which was another terrifying thought when she dwelled on it. What would she do if Megidramon suddenly let loose in the middle of Tokyo? It wasn’t like they had the ability to deal with that! They needed Azulongmon last time. And it wasn’t like they could just pull an all powerful dragon to the human world without scaring a whole lot of people. 

”Hey!” Mister Matsuda snapped his fingers to get attention.

“Don’t talk to my daughter like that!” her dad snapped back. 

“All of you calm down!” Miss Kamiya cried out at the top of her lungs, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. She threw her hands up in frustration, “In case you’ve all forgotten, we’ve got a situation on our hands. Rika, What thee hell happened in the Digital World and is everything alright?”

“That’s a long story and I don’t think there’s enough time in the day,” Rika finally managed to find her voice, “The good news is we’re back. The bad news is we may not be back for long.”

“What!? You have to go back!?” her mom gasped, covering her mouth in terror as her eyes widened in fear, “Well not without us you’re not!”

Rika didn’t want to be the one to break that news to them, and could only wonder what was going to happen to them now. Thankfully, Renamon was able to spare her having to answer the rest of the questions, “We know now why the Devas were after Calumon and why they were so intent on coming to this world. Our world, the Digital World, is in danger from an old threat. One that scares even the Digimon Tamer. Without us, the Digital World will certainly be destroyed. Then it’s only a matter of time before it comes to this world.”

“Why is it always the end of the world with this stuff!?” Davis complained angrily.

“Well, there’s one bit of good news. We found your partners and we know they’re safe,” Henry added hopefully. This earned the attention of everyone present, “You did!? Where are they!? Are they okay? How do we get to them!?”

“They’re alright and they miss you guys,” Henry answered happily, “They wanted to see you guys and come with us, but Takeru and Tamer said it wasn’t time. Without you guys there too digivolve then, they’d be more of a liability than a help.”

“TK!? He’s alive too?” Matt jumped up at the sound of his brother’s name, his shoulders slumping as all the tension left him. 

“We should’ve known. Where else was he going to go?” Ken mused at the revelation. Despite the relatively good news they had to offer, Mister Matsuda cleared his throat again, “I hate to ruin this parade but what the hell about our son!? What happened to Takato!?”

The mood soured again. Rika glanced towards Juri, “We don’t really know. The only one who would know is Juri since she’s the one who found out first. Tamer wouldn't repeat what he told her and Juri’s...not been great ever since-”

She paused again, realizing that she might have just brought up a very painful memory for Juri. However, the girl hardly seemed to notice anything was said at all. In fact, she just stood there staring ever since they first returned from the Digital World. The poor girl must’ve been shellshocked - traumatized first from finding out that Takato was dead and again from witnessing Leomon die. She didn’t know what to say to her and could only place a hand and on her shoulder, “Hey, it’ll be alright.”

“You poor girl, I’m so sorry,” her mother said, going to hug the poor girl. Juri didn’t react, continuing to stare off into space. It was unnerving. Rika has to look away because of how terrifying she looked like this. As she scanned the other adults, she realized something, “Hey, where’re her parents?”

“They didn’t come, remember?” Doctor Kido remarked, making his way to the girl and resting a hand on her head, “It’s a shame. It seems like she could use her family right about now.”

It was obvious that Mister Matsuda was still steaming though and was about to snap when Doctor Kido apologetically told him, “She’s in no condition to talk to anyone right now. We can ask her tomorrow. For now, she should be with her family.”

“Her? What about my family!? What happened to my son!?” Mister Matsuda roared with increasing anger. Doctor Kido crossed his arms and stepped up to him, “You need to relax. I understand you’re upset but would knowing actually make you feel any better or would it just make you angrier? I think what you should do is take a deep breath and take a walk to clear your head.”

Mister Matsuda paused for a second, his wife still trying to hold him back before he let loose in a flurry of anger. That moment of lucidity appeared to finally calm him down, until he lashed out in anger at the doctor by striking him across the face. It seemed that moment of lucidity didn’t last as long as it needed to. Doctor Kido fell backwards onto the roof while Mister Matsuda massaged his hand, “When you lose your only child, then you can talk to me about calming down.”

He turned to leave, kicking everything he could find in a fit of anger. His wife trailed behind for a second, hesitating to follow him - perhaps even unsure of what she should do next. After all, did it matter? She’d just been told her only son was dead and not coming back. And who wanted to hear that news? Rika looked to the digidestined present - wondering if any of them would have anything to say about it. Between the eleven of them - they’d lost parents, siblings, but never kids. Even if any of them could relate, she doubted either Matsuda would appreciate the sympathy. 

“I think it’d be best if we all head home tonight and cleared our heads,” Henry’s dad finally said, “The kids had a long trip and I’m sure they all want to go home and have a good night’s rest for the first time in a long time.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Kazu agreed, putting his hands behind his head. Yamaki waved to get their attention, “I can arrange for transport to get you kids and your digimon home discreetly.”

“What about-” Kenta whispered quietly, gesturing at Juri who continue to just stare off into space.  Calumon whimpered, “It’s not Juri. It’s not. Please, something’s happened to her!” 

“Calm down, Calumon,” Kazu said with a scolding voice. Unfortunately that tone seemed to be it for Calumon who ran for the edge of the roof, “No. I don’t like it. She’s scaring me!”

Henry and Xiaochun tried to chase him to the edge but their dad stopped them before they could get close. Several of the guards tried to secure him but he was too small and fast for them to catch. Before anyone could stop it, Calumon’s ears grew in size and he used them like wings to glide away off the edge of the roof. 

Everyone cursed the luck of Calumon getting away like that but nothing could be done about it. Kenta groaned, “Man, and we went through all that trouble just to get him.”

“Never mind. It’s not like the Devas are coming to take him again. As long as he’s here, he’s safe,” Renamon assured him, “Besides, we have other things to worry about.”

She gestured to Juri; Rika’s mom has pulled away from the hug and was trying to talk to her but she didn’t seem to respond to anything.

Yamaki adjusted his shades, “We can have an agent escort her home. It’d probably be for the best.”

“I can do it,” Kari volunteered with a raised hand, going over to her student. Yamaki nodded, “Alright. We can figure out the rest of this tomorrow. It’s been a long day.”

Rika was glad that at least her teacher was willing to be with her. She was ready to leave when she noticed Renamon hanging back, “What’s wrong, Renamon?”

Her partner gestured at the small imp laying unconscious in her arms, “What about Impmon?”

“What about him?” Kazu answered coldly. Rika understood where her partner was going with this - they couldn’t just leave him here to the Hypnos Program. Especially with what those guys did to digimon. On the other hand, helping him was a tough sell after what he did to Leomon. After what he did to the rest of them. Then again, whatever Tamerkato did to him was definitely punishment enough. The poor guy had been screaming forever, before he was knocked unconscious.

She took a moment to consider but couldn’t reach a decision. Her partner put her faith in her that she would help save the Digital World. Why not return the favor? She sighed, “Do whatever you think is right.”

“Thank you,” Renamon nodded her head and adjusted the little digimon in her arms so that she was cradling him like an infant, “I’ll meet you back in your house. Good night.”

She vanished after that. Yamaki sighed as he massaged his head, “Great, more digimon getting loose in the city. Why am I still surprised at this point? This’ll be a fun report to the Minister.”

…

Kari tried to think of what to say to her student - a poor girl who had been through as much trauma in the Digital World as she had in her time as a digidestined. Between Myotismon’s attack, her brother’s disappearance, the Dark Masters, and everything else - her brother may come in and out of her life...but she’d never lost a partner like that. Hell, she didn’t even know what she’d do if Gatomon were to die and not come back. Although she had worried about her partner for the longest time. She at least knew her partner was safe.

But Juri?

All she could do was hold the girl’s hand as she walked her home. They reached the train station and bought some tickets for the two of them, the whole time trying to think of what to say her. The fact that she didn’t talk at all wasn’t helping. She’d bought her a soda and some crackers so she could at least have a snack but the girl didn’t even seem to notice. But she hardly registered that she was holding either the drink or the packet of crackers. It was just silent staring off into space, barely reacting or acknowledging the world around her. 

It didn’t get any better when they got on the train and she sat silently, staring straight ahead without saying a word with the crackers and drink in hand. Kari made sure to take a car that no one else was using in the hopes that she’d feel more comfortable with privacy. But it didn’t seem to matter. In fact, she barely even moved when the train lurched forward. It was like she was a doll - a mannequin in the shape of Juri. Kari did the only thing she could think of, “I’m sorry about what happened in the Digital World, Juri. I wish you didn’t have to go through that.”

No response. 

“I understand that you’re hurt. But I want you to know that you can talk to me about it. I’m not just your homeroom teacher, y’know. I’m also one of you. A digidestined,” Kari offered. Still no response. This wasn’t going to work. She needed to change her approach. But what else could she do? She couldn’t force Juri to talk to her. All she could do was try to be there for her, be someone that Juri could feel at ease with.

“Nutritional Facts. Serving Size: One Can. One Hundred Forty Calories per serving. Zero percent daily value of total fat. Two percent daily value of sodium. Roughly forty-five milligrams. Fourteen percent daily value of Total carbohydrates. Roughly thirty-nine grams. Seventy eight percent daily value of sugars. Zero percent daily value of proteins. Not a significant source of saturated fat, transfat, cholesterol, fiber, vitamin D, calcium, iron, and potassium. Ingredients. Carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup, caramel color, phosphoric acid, natural flavors, caffeine.”

“Juri?” Kari blinked as her student continued to read the side of the can of soda she’d been given. It seemed her whole world had become reading the side of the soda can. And once she finished, she started reading the side bag of crackers. Kari snapped her fingers to get her attention, but Juri was laser focused on her reading more than anything. Maybe this was a coping mechanism? She knew her student would use a sock puppet to communicate with others if she felt overwhelmed and had something she had a hard time saying. But this, this was something else entirely. It was madness.

Then the lights of the train started to flicker - flashing on and off. She was beginning to rethink her concerns about being alone in an empty car and grabbed a hold of her student defensively, “Hang on.”

The lights flickered repeated until finally stopping, shrouding the car in darkness. This had to be a trap. A portal to the Digital World? A digimon appearing? It had to be something. Then there was a bright flash of light that briefly blinded them. When she could open her eyes again, the lights were back on and Tamer was lying on the ground, “Damn. I hate trying to land on moving targets. Are you okay Guilmon?”

“I’m fine. My head feels heavy,” the red dinosaur said from the ground beside him, upside down in his seat. Tamer helped the poor dinosaur and adjusted himself, “That’s because you were upside down. That happens when I try to land on a moving target since it’s hard to match the momentum when I have to consider the rotation of the universe around us. Earth is spinning at hundreds of miles an hour, rotating around another star going thousands of miles an hour, while also falling through...never mind.”

“Is that a food?” Guilmon asked.

“TAMER!” Kari gasped in surprise, quietly moving Juri behind her. In Juri’s current state, she was sure he was the last person she wanted to talk to. Tamer adjusted himself, massaging his head, “Hi Kari.”

“Where’d you go?” seemed like the wrong question to ask. There were a hundred questions running through her head. And none of them sounded appropriate. Takato or Tamer or Tamerkato or whatever he was going by now shook his head, “I figured that everyone would want nothing more than me to not be there. All the punches I’ve been getting lately got that message across.”

“Punches? Tamer...I mean...no, what are you doing here?” Kari finally managed to get out. Once he finished straightening himself out, he approached the two of them and separated them, “Here to talk. Not to you, Kari. But we can talk later if you’d like. I’m here to talk to you. Where’s Juri?”

He was pointing at Juri. Kari was beginning to think he’d finally lost it. No, when did he ever have it? This was insane. He said again, “Look, I know you’re not Juri. It’s not just the behavior, which is completely off. And the dead eyes stare is wrong too. The smells not doing you any favors either. No, what gave it away was the sock puppet. Juri always uses the sock puppet when she has a hard time saying what’s on her mind. She’d be distressed over what’s been going on lately. But she hasn’t used her sock puppet once. So who the hell are you and what are you doing here?”

“If you knew, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Juri replied, her eyes moving up and down over Tamer curiously. The way the two of them were looking at each other, she was certain they were going to start throwing fists. However, Tamer indulged her, “I was waiting to see what you would do. You’re in our world now. What do you want?”

“Information. The nemesis is strong in power. A tactical withdrawal was necessary. There were complications, unexpected hurdles. The tactical withdrawal has turned into an advance. A two front sat,” Juri replied monotonously, “New subjects were encountered. At this time, there is insufficient information to properly process them. More information is needed. This world may contain the key to victory.”

“Victory against what?”

“The nemesis.”

“We’re getting off topic. Where’s Juri?” Tamer demanded angrily. Juri cocker her head to the side and smiled wickedly, “The subject designated Juri is here. Surrendering control of the face.”

Juri’s face twisted from one of passive indifference to pure terror as she shrieked, “AH! WHAT’S HAPPENING? WHERE AM I!? WHY CAN’T I MOVE? TAKATO!? HELP ME! FOR THE LOVE OF-”

Her face switched back to a passively indifferent expression and her voice became monotonous, “-control of the face reacquired.”

Tamer froze, “You’re in her body.”

Something like a smile twisted on to her face: a big wide toothy grin spread wider than it should be, “Of course. She invited it. She allowed it.”

“Invited it? She’s a ten year old girl who was emotionally devastated from the death of her partner! She wasn’t in a mental state to allow anything!” Tamer snapped.

“She wanted it,” Juri answered cheerily. Something about that shook her and she growled, “What the hell!? What have you done to my student.”

“Relieved her of her suffering. Of her guilt. Of her anger and her frustration,” Juri replied. Whatever was inside Juri, was controlling her body, said it with such sickening glee that Kari wanted nothing more than to hurt it. But how? She wasn’t even sure how it was inside her body. And hurting this thing would just hurt Juri.

“Who are you?” Tamer demanded angrily. The thing that was inside Juri looked at her with an even bigger smile, “I’ve been given many designations over the time of my existence. Destroyer. Devourer. Death. The Beast. However, these designations are just words use to ascribed to some meaning to my existence in an ill conceived attempt by lesser beings to comprehend me.”

“Big words and a lot of talk, but not a lot of answers,” Tamer tapped his foot impatiently, “Who. Are. You?”

It cackled, “I am your reckoning. My existence is to purge the dangerous. The powerful. To balance the scale and give the smaller life forms a fighting chance. Until they grow too strong. The scales must be balanced. The world must understand its natural order. All life will die. All endings lead to new beginnings. I am the-”

“Bored now,” Tamer interrupted. Juri’s twisted smile disappeared and turned to one of twisted anger, “Your callous disregard for the common etiquette and shift in attitude indicates a level of cockiness or  confidence not shared by your peers. Your confidence could be due to an immeasurable level of stupidity because you don’t quite grasp the situation you’re in. But we both know that’s wrong. So it must come from a level of confidence in your own ability of strength to feel unthreatened by me. And I can assure you that you should be very afraid - because my purpose is to destroy people like you.”

“You’re the computer program the others made to manage the Digital World,” Tamer concluded. Kari looked from Juri to Tamer, unsure what was going to happen next. But this was not a safe place to be. This train and everyone on it was in great danger. Juri’s creepy smile returned, “The Digital World fears me. This world will fear me too!”

“But that’s not possible. You’re a data life form! A data life form can’t just merge with organic life form. That’s...that’s not possible,” he stammered in disbelief. Juri cocker her head to the side, “It is possible. It’s happened before. It can happen again.”

“Bioemerging,” Tamer gasped, “You biomerged. You tried to anyway but you...oh...no...”

“The scales must be balanced. You are a clear and present danger to those around you,” Juri said, reaching out towards Tamer with her hands. Tamer’s eyes widen in terror at that statement and he stepped back towards Kari, “Hang on to me. Digiport Open!”

He held his digivice up in the air. Kari latched onto him as there was another bright flash of light. She closed her eyes, familiar with the sensation of falling until it went away and was replaced with the cold chill of the night air. She opened her eyes and found herself on top of a building beside Tamer and Guilmon. He dusted himself off and apologized, “Are you alright Kari?”

“I’m fine. What the hell was that?” she said, trying to gain her bearings. They were on a rooftop now, somewhere in the city. On closer inspection, they were not too far from where they’d gotten on the train. They were in Shinjuku, not too far from the Metropolitan Building. Tamer readjusted his clothes, “A bad situation. A very bad problem. The thing terrorizing the Digital World, that made the Sovereigns and the Devas freak out, that started this whole thing...it’s here. In Tokyo. And I think I’m the reason it got loose in this world.”

“What do you mean?” Kari’s voice shook, quavering with an anger for Tamer she didn’t know she’d had before. He held up his hand to calm her down and tried to massage her head, “Sorry, I need a moment to think.”

Kari was about to snap. She considered her words carefully before speaking, making sure to watch her  tone so that she didn’t explode on him, “Tamer, I’ve been nothing but patient and giving you moments. Ever since you first showed up in my apartment when I was a kid. Ever since your disappeared out of my life. Three times. Talk to me! Keep me in the loop! What is going on!? What the hell was that and why is it here?”

Tamer massaged his temples, “I noticed something was wrong with Juri after Leomon died but didn’t want to cause more problems so I didn’t say anything. And I needed to be sure that whatever was pretending to be her wasn’t a threat. But I definitely screwed that up and now there’s a crazy monster that kills everything it sees and eats everything it kills running around Tokyo in the shape of a ten year old girl. And I...oh shit.”

He stopped and stared off into space without saying a word. He fell quiet and Kari felt her frustration bubbling. She cursed, “Oh shit? Tamer, tell me you’ve got some kind of a plan. Tell me you know how to beat this. Tell me it’s all under control.”

No response. She was getting really tired of that. She snapped, “TAMER!?”

Tamer turned her head with his hand to see what he was seeing. And she knew why he’d fallen silent. She wasn’t sure what to do. There was a great big red gelatinous mass in the center of the city that hadn’t been there before. In fact, now that she thought about it, that was right where the train had been a moment ago. That was where their train was a second ago. It was a lot to process how much danger they were in, “Oh shit.”