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bvidzsoo · 4 years ago

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Late night Drifts

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: physical abuse (nothing descriptive); swearing

Pairing: Hansol Vernon Chwe x female reader

Word count: 18, 157

Summary: Being top of your class was everything your parents have ever wanted. You were the perfect daughter, however, it was only them who were happy. Your life was stressful and filled with sleepless nights studying, just to please your parents. Until one day you discovered racing, and realized, it was the only way you could unwind all the accumulated stress. And it just so happened that one day you overheard your classmate, Vernon, talking about an illegal race taking place that night. You knew it was your cue, so with rolled up cash left on his desk, you made it clear you were challenging him. He wins = he gets a date / You win = he teaches you how to drift.

A/N: Hello, hello lovelies! And off we go with the first part of this series! I tried out something different this time, I hope it’s not weird and it’s still good, I’m a little nervous about it tbh. All the sentences in italic are the reader’s direct thoughts! I’ve never written in second person before so uhm...I hope it’s still fine. I hope you’ll like it and please let me know your thoughts. If there are people interested, I could even start a Taglist, I guess! Enjoy now!

Series M.List ~ Next Part

When younger, you’d quietly complain to yourself about having to wake up early in the morning, around 6 am, just to have breakfast with your parents; but as the years passed it just became a routine. You weren’t bothered by it anymore, sometimes, you’d even wake up earlier than you were supposed to. Like today, at 5:30 am, your eyes were wide open as you stared up at the platinum white ceiling of your huge bedroom. You knew it was the anxiety making you feel like this, the fear of having to face your father and mother today seemed to be more intense than usually, after all, you were getting your grading sheet at school. You hated days like today, you hated getting your grades. It was horror to sit through school, anxious, only to return home to get yelled at by your father, because once again, you failed to score higher at English than Vernon. Vernon Hansol Chwe. He was your nightmare at school. It wasn’t what he did directly to you, because there were almost little to no incidents, it’s what he indirectly made you go through. You hated him, but didn’t at the same time. It wasn’t his fault, and you were aware of that, but you couldn’t help the glare or sudden anger that engulfed you whenever you looked at him. If he only wasn’t as good at English as he was, all the torment from your parents would’ve been non-existent.

You were the perfect daughter, the one every parent wished to have and every parent praised whenever they met up with your parents and you. You were perfect, in their eyes, yes. You always listened to what your parents said, you didn’t talk back or disobeyed them, and most importantly, you always pleased them and got high grades. It would’ve been a shame if you didn’t, your father was a scientist and your mother a doctor. They wanted you to become either this or that, but you, you didn’t know. You had no idea what you actually liked doing, you never really had hobbies or free time to try out different things like any other normal kid did while growing up. That is, until, you stumbled upon some abandoned race tracks and saw a woman in her car going at a high speed, drifting around the curbs, and sporting the happiest and most careless expression you’ve ever seen on someone’s face. It struck you, you never felt like that before. You wanted to feel like that so badly. You just ran away from home, with the excuse that you joined a new study group to help you out with Chemistry, but the truth was that you just needed air and time away from your overwhelming parents. You weren’t even supposed to be in this part of the city, people could smell from miles away that you were rich and just by stealing your purse, they’d make millions. But you didn’t care, because in this part of the city, it seemed like people only stared at your for what you looked like, without too judgmental looks on their faces. It was weird, but refreshing. After the woman stopped, got out of the car and ruffled her long hair, you gathered all your courage and walked up to her, and asked her to take you on a round with herself. She was reluctant, but once she saw the desperate look in your eyes, she obliged and you were inside her car, screaming your lungs out at all the sharp and harsh turns she took. It was scary, but freaking awesome. You felt high on adrenaline and when she stopped the car, her name being Lexa, you begged her to teach to drive like that. Your driving instructor never taught you about speed, but this woman seemed to know it all. Lexa was reluctant, but she complied once again, when she saw the desperate look in your eyes. And that is how you became obsessed with racing, cars, and chasing that adrenaline that made you feel free and careless. It was the only hobby you had, the only thing your parents couldn’t control in your life, simply, because they didn’t know about it. And you preferred to keep it that way, knowing well the repercussions if they ever found out. But for you to be able to attend the events and races, you needed a good car. So, when you finished last year as first in your whole high school, your father granted your wish and bought you a Vaydor G37. The car was expensive, but freaking awesome. You knew you’d be better than half of the amateur racers, even though, you were one too. But for now, that didn’t matter, as you played with your fingers in your lap, waiting for the maid to place your breakfast in front of you. You could feel your father’s sharp gaze on you, but you ignored it as you glared at the table. Your mother hadn’t joined the table yet, that’s why you weren’t eating yet.

“John told me he had to change the tires to the Vaydor,” You looked up to meet your father’s gaze, knowing he hated it when you didn’t, “It’s the third time this month. Explain.”

You gulped, but kept your expression neutral, he can’t find out, “I didn’t pay attention when I got them changed and instead of the summer tires, they put on the winter ones. That was the first time. Second time, I got a puncture while I rode back home from school, a screw was left on the road from the new construction site and I didn’t know. And uhm…I’m not sure what was wrong the third time, but the vibrations coming from the tires felt wrong, I thought…it would be best to get them changed.” But the truth was that you raced too hard and burned out your tires, all adherence gone, which made it impossible for you to ride around the streets with them.

Your father didn’t say anything as he looked at you with a hard expression, tying to decipher if you were lying or saying the truth, “Safety comes first, Y/N, don’t forget that.”

“Yes, father.” You muttered and looked up at your mother as she walked in with a wide smile. Your father looked at her and his eyes instantly turned soft and he waited until she sat next to him, to press a kiss to her cheek. He was only ever like that to her, kind and lovely, never to you. You honestly thought your father hated you because you weren’t born to be a boy, like he so desperately wanted. Yet, he never tried to have another child with your mother, you figured he had enough of you and just didn’t want to bother with raising another kid. Your mother looked at you just as the maids finally walked in with your breakfast, placing the plates in front of you. Your stomach rumbled quietly and it made your mom chuckle as your father took the first bite, and then you both followed suit. It was the same old breakfast: toast with boiled eggs, a few slices of tomato and butter. Sometimes you’d get hot cocoa, if your father was in a good mood, but most of the time you were served with orange or apple juice. Today, water with lemon was served and as much as you were craving the taste of oranges, a little switch from your usually boring routine was nice, even if so small and almost insignificant.

“When will you know your grades?” Your father asked again, voice hard and you bit your lower lip as you lowered your knife and fork.

“Today, actually.” You answered, trying to hide the tremor in your voice, but it was pretty obvious.

“Great, I will make sure to come home early then.” He said and the grip on your knife tightened as you tried to hide the anger and fear mixing together in your stomach, hating the words your father said. But it made your mother squeal as she smiled at him brightly.

“That’s amazing news, honey! Let’s go have dinner, shall we?” She was the only excited one, your father actually started glaring at you, and you realized it was because you were glaring at him. Sometimes, your control over your body slipped and you did things subconsciously.

“Yes,” Your father spoke, turning his head away from you to look at his wife, “Let’s go have dinner, Y/N should—”

“I have a study group at 18:00 today, I won’t be able to join you, I’m sorry.” You interrupted your father, not caring right now that he hated being interrupted by you, as you let your parents know in a hurry that you weren’t available today. And actually, you weren’t even lying. You really did have to study for English, you hated to say it, but you were feeling uneasy after your last exam and thought you could work on it. A new guy from America showed up two weeks ago, DK, and when you heard he offered to help out those in need, you knew you needed to sign up. Vernon was from America too, that’s why you never could beat him, he was better as he was fluent. Your mother was American too, but she never bothered to teach you much English, either too busy with work or with your father. She wasn’t a bad mom, just neglectful sometimes.

“You study so hard, my dear.” Your mother’s arm extended over the mahogany table and you extended your own arm, letting her grip it, “How about this…if you get a good grade for your English exam, we go on a small vacation this weekend?”

That actually sounded wonderful, you couldn’t help but smile, warmness filling your insides. You missed spending time with your mom, but of course, your father had to ruin it all.

“We shouldn’t…I can’t this weekend.” Of course, he couldn’t. The only important things for him were work, antagonizing you, and taking your mother on expensive dates.

“Honey,” Your mother let go of your arm to cup her husband’s cheek, “It’s not a crime if the two of us spend a little time together, it’s been long since we had a mother-daughter get-away, right, Y/N?”

You quietly nodded your head, hopeful that your father would let it slide this time, but of course, he wouldn’t, “If Y/N scores a 10/10, you can go.”

You gulped, hating how trusting your mother’s gaze was, how happy she looked, “Of course, honey, she’ll definitely get the highest score. She’s our daughter after all…”

Yes, unfortunately, I’m your daughter.

After breakfast you quickly got dressed for school, your uniform still warm from getting ironed a few minutes before you had to put it on. You hated wearing skirts to school, but you had no other choice as it was in the dress code. You fixed your hair and painted your lips a soft pink, smiling to yourself in the mirror. Not because you were happy, but because you didn’t want everyone to see how miserable you were. You didn’t have any friends; besides Yoona, you didn’t want any more rumors than the ones already circulating around you. They said all kinds of things about you, but neither was true. They weren’t necessarily bad, besides the one calling you a freak and saying you broke someone’s hand in your freshman year; you didn’t. But people weren’t very fond of you nonetheless and you didn’t want to add onto the list of why you should be more disliked than you already were. You knew the smile looked far from genuine, but it was better than nothing, it lessened the harsh expression of your face. It probably got like that due to your father’s constant pressure hanging over your shoulders.

The car ride was silent, John stirring up casual conversation with your father from time to time, as he drove you to school before driving your father to work. Your car was still in the car-service, actually, Jihoon got a new engine that you were more than happy to test out for him. He was the one who approached you, surprisingly, after your first won race. He said he liked your car and could smell the money from miles away; he offered to help out with your car if you raced on his behalf from time to time. You seriously didn’t need the money, but it sounded like fun and it was weird how impressed everyone was by Jihoon talking to you, so you accepted out of curiosity. It took you a month to realize he was part of the Lee family, being the eldest son actually, and that they owned the streets at night when racing. He truly was the best, both at racing and fixing cars. Sometimes you’d even drop off cash anonymously at his house, when you wouldn’t need it anymore, and you had a feeling he knew but stayed silent about it. Both of you knew that he needed the extra cash from time to time.

Your attention was brought to John when he stopped the car, unlocking the doors. You were parked at the front gates of your high school, you sighed as you grabbed the doorhandle of the car. Partially you were happy to be here just because you would be away from your father and mother.

“Y/N,” Your heart jumped to your stomach when your father called out your name, deep voice booming in the car, “If you don’t score 10/10, I will have to believe you are incompetent and unable to perform well in a private high school. If you don’t raise your score by the end of the semester, your name will be cut from the family tree and I will throw you out without a second thought.”

A cynical smirk appeared on your lips as you opened the door and turned to look at your father, “You can’t throw out a minor, father, unless you want me to go to the police and press magazines. I’m sure they are buzzing to know more about the mysteriously wealthy and handsome Mr. Seo, don’t you think?”

His jaw clenched and John gulped loudly, shaking his head as subtly as he could at you, as you hurriedly got out of the car. You never talked back to your father, you had no idea what came over you, but you felt so fed up with his threats. If only he knew cutting ties with him sounded like heaven to you. You didn’t care if you ended up on the streets as long as it was away from him, you were never hungry for money or greedy for it. You didn’t care about it, you just wanted love from the two figures who were supposed to raise you. Instead, one hated you and the other one was barely ever home.

“Have a good day at work, both of you.” You bowed deeply before closing the door of the vehicle, staring at the tinted window of the backseat. You waited until John drove away and you couldn’t see the car anymore. A strong gush of cold wind suddenly blew through the area and it made you realize that you were glaring at nothing, once again. You hated how little consideration he took of your feelings and how little he made you feel. Your father truly was the devil.

Yoona’s schedule was rather packed on Monday’s and Wednesday’s, so you couldn’t meet up with her during classes. Which maybe was a good idea, poor girl, you hoped she didn’t think you only used her to have someone to complain to, but you seriously had no one else to talk to. You loved Yoona and how open she was and ignorant to the rumors about you, she was always quick to shut others up. She was only a year older, yet she felt like a mother to you sometimes.

The day passed by incredulously fast and you made sure to take notes in each class, until it was homeroom class time. Your legs were bouncing up and down nervously and loudly as you tried not to bite your nails, a bad habit you were trying to get rid of. Usually, you weren’t this nervous, but your father reminding you of his threat this morning and your reckless answer made you realize if you indeed didn’t score 10/10 at English, you were truly fucked, and you hated the sudden ache of your stomach. It seemed like you were the only one so stressed out as your classmates kept shouting around you, joking and chatting, making your ears ring. All you could do was stare at the door anxiously, waiting for your homeroom teacher to enter this damned classroom already. But the bell didn’t even ring yet, it’s still break time, you sighed and bit your lower lip, trying to calm your nerves. You didn’t mean to, but your eyes fell on a boy and your eyebrows instantly furrowed. His right arm was resting on his desk, his right cheek on it as he slept. He looked so peaceful and carefree that it angered you more. How could he just sit there, sleep there, when you were about to get your grades? You knew he didn’t give a shit about his grades, yet he was always top of your class, breathing down your neck all the time. When you started high school, you never thought you’d meet someone almost as smart as you, and that you’ll be challenged. But Vernon…he just wrecked your life and made it a bigger hell than it already was, and tears almost came to your eyes as you couldn’t look away from his peaceful form. You were jealous and angry, wishing that could be you right now. As your eyes lingered on him, you realized, his cheekbones were high and sharp, almost hollow looking like. You hardly ever paid attention to guys, you didn’t have the time nor energy to put into them, but sometimes you caught yourself dozing off and staring at the back of Vernon’s head. He wasn’t special, far from it, he looked quite normal yet his beauty felt a little foreign, compelling. That was another reason to hate him for, and you never thought more of it, content with the current thoughts of him. You didn’t like him, but you didn’t deny that he was somewhat attractive either. Yet, your heart still started thumping quickly when Vernon’s eyes opened abruptly and made eye contact with you almost instantly, as if he knew you were staring. You averted your eyes and straightened your stance, refusing to look back at the boy, even if he continued staring at you. You never really spoke to him, you didn’t have a reason to, only greeted him in the mornings if you arrived after him…but you did greet everyone, after all. Your legs started bouncing again as Vernon wouldn’t look away and it made the hairs on your arms raise, your anxiety doubling. Why is he staring now? Does he think I like him or something? Maybe he knows I don’t like him? But your attention was brought back to the door as it opened just as the bell rang, and your homeroom teacher in walked. The voices in the classroom started dying down and even Vernon looked away from you, siting up straight in his chair. You were glad, you didn’t think you’d be able to ignore him for longer if your teacher wouldn’t have walked in. You donned out every voice that was still speaking, you even ignored your teacher’s usual speech about how grades weren’t important and that they didn’t actually reflect your knowledge about life…if only he knew what he was speaking. So, you just sat there silently, anxiously waiting for your sheet.

Which turned out to be more and more difficult as you were amongst one of the last ones, for once, making you hate the fact that your family name was ‘Seo’. You have successfully eaten three nails by the time your teacher called out your name and you raised from your chair, legs feeling a bit like jelly, as you rigidly walked up to his desk to take the sheet from him. Your hands shook and you hoped no one noticed, but when you turned to walk back to your seat, you were surprised to see Vernon squinting his eyes at you as he was watching you, once again. Did I draw too much attention onto myself by looking at him? This wasn’t the first time though, why is he suddenly so attentive of me? You ignored his burning gaze as you finally started walking back to your seat, gripping the sheet tightly in your hands. You were curios but also afraid to look. Vernon got his sheet a while ago and you tried to read his expression, but he only shrugged and placed the sheet between his notebooks, seemingly unimpressed. You were hopeful it was because he scored lower this time, but you couldn’t be very sure, he reacted the same way each time.

Finally sitting in your own chair, you took in a deep breath and opened the sheet, staring at the names of the subjects and then the grade next to it.

“Don’t forget kids, I tell you this each time, but I feel like saying this again. Grades don’t define us and you can be whoever you want to be in life, or do whatever you want to do, despite the grades on that paper—”

Your whole body ran cold as your hands started shaking hard, chest constricting as if your lungs stopped getting enough air to be able to function. Your eyes ran over and over again the same row, your brain refusing to acknowledge the information. English: 9,55. You hated what you were seeing, you hated what your teacher was saying, you hated how carefree and light everyone around you seemed to be, you hated Vernon’s gaze burning into the side of your head. You suddenly couldn’t bear sitting in that classroom anymore, it seemed rowdy and hot, your head started pounding painfully as you jumped up from your chair, knocking two notebooks and your sheet off the table. All the eyes on you made your chest tighten further and your eyes snapped towards your teacher when you heard him calling out to you.

“Miss Seo, is everything alright?” You really wanted to answer him, but when you opened your mouth to say something, nothing came out. Embarrassed and unable to take the looks you were getting by your classmates, Vernon’s confused gaze, you stepped around your chair and took off, uncaring of the repercussions. Your teacher called out your name once again, sounding more worried this time, and you glared at Vernon when he still didn’t look away, knocking onto his table on purpose, which made his pencil case and notebook fall to the floor. And with that, you were out of the classroom and running towards the girls restroom, hearing footsteps following you hurriedly. You knew your teacher sent someone after you to make sure that you wouldn’t do anything reckless, and it made you want to cry that your own teacher was more worried about your wellbeing than your own parents. You hoped the person realized you ran out because you wanted to be alone, and that they wouldn’t follow you inside the restroom, and when they actually didn’t, you broke down crying in front of the mirror, turning on the faucet to silence your sobs a little bit. I don’t want to go home.

You hated the looks your classmates were giving you after your breakdown, but some were nice enough to check up on you. You didn’t like the attention and the fact that you had to lie to them, but it warmed your heart a bit that not everyone was heartless and mean to you. You were surprised to see your things neatly placed in your bag after you returned from the restroom with a girl, Hanna, who your homeroom teacher sent after you to keep you company until you felt better. You wanted to ask who did that, because you wanted to thank them, but decided to stay quiet and just lay low for the rest of the day as rumors of you already spread through school like wildfire. You hated it, but you tried to ignore them…and Vernon too. He shot you a questioning gaze after you got back to class, but you acted like he wasn’t even there. Your gut was telling you that it was him who gathered your stuff from the floor and placed it back into your bag, but why would he do that? You were never very nice to him, and you even knocked his stuff off on purpose when you ran out. Fed up with your constant thoughts of Vernon and what others would say now about you, you blocked everything out and hurriedly gathered your things once the final bell rang, signaling that school was over for the day. You were glad that you could finally leave this place, but your stomach ached when you remembered you had to return home, to meet your father. Running away right now sounded like the smartest thing to do, but once you left your high school, you stopped and looked up towards the sky. The sun was high up and shinning down, creating a warm atmosphere and you looked around to observe that everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Kids were laughing and hanging onto their friends as they groaned about how hard school could get, others kids were excitedly talking about what homecooked meal their mothers made, and some were just hurriedly leaving through the gates. You smiled, but it was a sad smile, because you never experienced any of those feelings. You wished your mother would be at home, waiting for you with a homecooked meal, and that your father would arrive earlier from work and praise you for your grades, deciding to take the three of you out to the arcades. But those were dreams you’d never experience, and rather than continuing to hurt yourself with such fantasies, you took off with a sigh. You followed the path that lead to the iron gates of the high school and bowed your head a little to greet the gatekeeper, who was happy to see you. Not many kids were respectful toward the old man, but you didn’t think lower of him just because of his job, sometimes you’d sneak cookies from home and share them with him. As the weather was a lot warmer than in the morning, you took your scarf off and gasped when something hit your shoulder. You were expecting someone to be picking on you, but when you turned your head and looked at the girl leaning against the stone wall, you let a chuckle fall from your lips.

“I told you to throw your garbage in the trash cans, Yoona.” You scolded the older girl, picking up her cigarette butt to throw it into the nearest trash can later.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoona rolled her eyes, lighting another cigarette, “What the hell happened today? Your crazy classmates wouldn’t stop talking about how you stormed out after you got your grades.”

You grimaced as you leaned against the stone wall next to your friend, “I didn’t get a 10/10.”

Your answer was direct and Yoona sighed, glancing at you as she puffed out the smoke of her cigar. She knew about your parents, but not the whole truth. She only knew about them being obsessed with your grades and that they were very controlling and harsh to you. You didn’t dare tell her the other things, afraid she’d do something about it, getting you in more trouble.

“Oh, Y/N…” Yoona’s expression was sad and you melted into her hug as she put her arms around you, on the verge of crying, “If it feels too much later on, call me…or come to the races with me, you don’t have to compete or anything. Just be there.”

You hummed and circled your arms around your friend, feeling a bit better as Yoona’s familiar perfume entered your nostrils, “It’s a Wednesday, you know I can’t go out…and I have an English tutor now, we are meeting later for our first session.”

“Oh, really?” Yoona’s interest peaked as she finally pulled herself away from you, patting your cheek, “Do I know him?”

“Maybe, it’s this new guy from America…calls himself DK.” You muttered, puckering your lips at the hilarious name he went by. Yoona’s expression hardened and she scoffed as she finished her cigar, not looking very pleased.

“You know him?” You asked curiously, Yoona not being one to dislike someone.

“Of course,” She rolled her eyes and pushed off the stone wall, dragging her leather jacket tightly around her body, “He’s in my class. He’s very annoying, tries hard to befriend everyone and won’t shut up. He’s not even smart, most of the time only says stupid things—”

“Okay,” You raised up one hand to stop Yoona from rambling, throwing her an amused smile, “What did he do to you that you don’t like him?”

Yoona just rolled her eyes, displeased by how much you knew her already, “He’s all up in my business, won’t leave me alone after he heard me talking to my friend from the U.S. Fucking idiot…”

You started giggling loudly, making Yoona glare at you, but your laughter was contagious and she ended up giggling too, “You’ll figure it out, Yoona.”

“Yeah…hopefully before Johnny decides to smash in his nose.” Her tone turned sour and you gave her a pitiful look, knowing her relationship with Johnny hadn’t been the best lately. Yoona just sighed and you patted her side, reassuring her that you were there for her if she needed someone to complain to. The sudden sound of engine roaring caught your attentions and Yoona turned stiff, looking to the road, where a black car pulled up. The window rolled down and Johnny’s face came in view.

“Speaking of the devil…” You muttered quietly, making Yoona smirk at you.

“Hello, ladies.” Johnny greeted the two of you with a charming smile and Yoona looked at him before back at you.

“Want us to give you a ride home?” You appreciated her offer, but you didn’t know if your dad was already at home. He didn’t mind Yoona very much, he knew her parents, but he hated Johnny and actually forbid you from meeting up with him or with them when they were together. You didn’t want to test the waters furthermore today; you had already done enough in the morning and now with your grade too.

“No, no,” You shook your head quickly, declining her offer nicely, “You can go. I have to pick up some books either way, you don’t have to bother with me…”

Yoona nodded and took off towards her boyfriend’s car, but when she opened the door, she turned back to look at you and mouthed, “Liar.”

You chuckled and waved at them as Johnny gave you a nod before pressing a strong kiss against your best friend’s lips, leaving her with a sour expression as he rolled the window up and took off, the engine of the car creating disturbance to the pedestrians. You looked down at the other cigarette butt Yoona dropped and picked it up with a sigh, dropping it into your pocket, where the other one was. She never listened to you when you told her to throw them away into a trash can, so it became by now a routine to pick them up and throw them away yourself. You took off once again, headed home for real this time, your stomach churned nervously as you played with the cigarette butts in your pocket. Your parents knew you didn’t smoke, they stopped checking up on that since you turned sixteen, so you weren’t afraid of smelling like it. Besides, they knew most kids your age smoked and that it could just easily get into your clothes and hair when you walked by. You sighed at the thought of your parents and tried to enjoy the sun on your skin, welcomed after the cold winter you had. It was hard to walk home, because you were anxious, but the pleasant weather made you slow your usual long strides as you passed the corner of the high school and turned onto the next street. You took the two cigarette butts between your fingers and threw them into the trash can on the side walk as you walked by it, your scalp feeling itchy. Sometimes you made your ponytail too tight and it left your scalp sore, so you quickly undid the tight hold, releasing your long black hair. You thought of cutting it, it was slowly nearing the middle of your back, but your mother said a feminine woman needs her long hair, that it’s precious, and you should never wear it too short. That’s why your hair always reached your scapulas or even longer. I always wondered how I’d look with short hair…it can’t be that bad, right? Your thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly became aware that someone was walking right next to you. You became stiff and ready to speed up, uncomfortable, but when you stole a glance at the person walking next to you, your feet came to an abrupt stop. So did the person, who was scratching his nape awkwardly, looking at your guiltily.

“Uh, sorry.” Vernon’s voice was loud here, the cars and people walking by you were being loud, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me.” You answered him too quickly, body stiff as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, still…” He cleared his throat and you became curious, he never really spoke to you directly, unless you were paired up for a group project during class, “I just wanted to ask you…”

You raised your eyebrows, curiously looking at Vernon, a little annoyed that he was stalling, “What?”

“Are you alright?” Your eyebrows furrowed at his question and you glanced around, feeling uneasy. Why is he suddenly so curious about how I feel? It’s really not his business.

“I’m fine, why?” You snapped, crossing your arms in front of your chest in a way to show him you weren’t too fond of this conversation.

“Just wanted to check up on you.” Vernon muttered as he kept looking at you, the sunlight lighting his features. His skin had a warm glow and he was squinting as he was standing facing the sun, his brown eyes were lighter than you had anticipated them to be.

“Well…” You cleared you throat, feeling a bit flustered, “You didn’t have to.”

Vernon hummed and nodded his head a little, biting his lower lip, an action which caught your attention, “I know…you ran out of class and you didn’t look too good. Just wanted to make sure you’re better now—”

Your inhale was sharp and it alerted Vernon as your eyes snapped back up to look him in the eyes. Your heart was beating like crazy and you knew your face turned hard as Vernon gulped; you took a step to lessen the distance between the two of you, “Stay out of my business, Vernon, you already make my days a nightmare as they are.”

Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, clearly taken aback by your threatening tone and sentence, not having expected such hostility coming from you. After all, he never did anything wrong to you…directly. He looked lost for a second, you felt bad for being so mean to him, but before he could form a sentence, you turned and rushed away, willing yourself to catch the green cross light, which would turn red by the time Vernon realized you were running away and would stop him from following you. Your heart was beating fast as you turned to look back, to see him standing at the cross dumbfounded, his eyebrows furrowed as he raised one hand as if to ask you to wait for him. You were pretty good at reading people; you had anticipated his moves. You shook your head at him and took off, Vernon losing sight of you in the mass of people walking on the sidewalk.

You were studying in your room when you heard the front door open and slam closed. Your hands suddenly started shaking as your mother’s laughter carried through the big apartment you lived in, your father’s voice next as he answered her question. You dreaded this moment, you knew it was coming, but you were hoping it would come later. You knew your father was expecting you in his study, so, you rose from your desk and pulled your hair in a low ponytail. You glanced at yourself in the mirror and hated your expression; anyone would be able to see how scared you looked. You started glaring at yourself, trying to stop this horrible feeling brewing inside you, as you pointed a finger at yourself in the mirror.

“Stop it!” You snapped at yourself quietly, “Whatever happens, happens. Walk out there with your head up and don’t say anything unnecessary!”

When you heard your mother’s heels clicking getting closer and closer, you quickly grabbed the sheet and hurried to your door, opening it just as your mother raised her knuckle to knock.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed with a wide smile and placed her palm on your cheek, “Looking pretty today, how do you feel?”

You remained expressionless as you looked at your mother, jealous of her good mood, “Fine, I’ll go see father now.”

“Oh, right!” She exclaimed again and stepped out of your way, shooing you away, “We are supposed to leave in thirteen minutes for our date, don’t keep him up! Also, we should look for some vacation cabins in the mountains for our get-away—”

“We are not going anywhere!” You snapped and turned your head to look at your mother, jaw clenched. How could she not pick up on my mental state? How could she not read my expression when I’ve been hers for seventeen years? When she was my mother?

“Oh…” She cleared her throat, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Why…”

“I didn’t get the grade.” You muttered and sighed, taking off towards your father’s office. It was on the other end of the apartment and you had time to even out your expression and calm your erratic heartbeat for at least a while. When you stopped in front of the big, black, door you took a deep breath and ignored your mother, who was headed to their shared bedroom, and knocked on your father’s office door. There was a grunt coming from inside and you knew it was your cue to walk in, so, you opened the door with more force than needed and walked in, leaving the door open. He hated it, but you felt like you’d need to escape tonight, it made you feel safer. Your father glanced at his door and then at you before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. You didn’t sit as you came to a stop in front of his desk, just reached your hand out for him to take the sheet. He nodded once and took it, eyes running over the paper. Your heart started beating quickly once again and you clasped your hands behind your back to stop yourself from biting your other nails you didn’t get to in school. Involuntarily, your left foot started tapping against the floorboards of the office and you gulped as you looked straight ahead when your father’s eyes fell on you.

“What did I say?” His voice was hard, sheet crumbled up in his hands. Don’t answer him, let him scream at you, “I thought I was clear.”

When he fell silent you didn’t know what to do or say, so you just let your head hang low, avoiding eye contact with your father, “You are telling me that you’re unable to get a 10/10 at English? When your mother is American?! Is your brain perhaps too little for you to comprehend what you have to learn?! Are you dumb, Y/N?!”

That felt like the last straw. I’m not dumb, I’m more competent than you once were! Your eyes snapped up to meet your father’s, your glare melting into his, “How am I dumb? I got a 9,55, father! And I got a 10/10 at everything else! I’m top of my class and high school! What more do you want?!”

Your voice broke at the end of the sentence, and your body shook, you have never raised your voice at your father. He looked shocked for a second, but in a second also, he was up and storming around his desk to reach you.

“You ungrateful scum!” He shouted loudly, his deep voice made you jump, “I feed you! I give you money! I buy you clothes! I put a roof over your head! And this is how you pay me back? By talking back and thinking you are better than me?!”

“When did I ever say that—” The words died in your throat as the back of your father’s palm slammed into your cheek harshly. Your eyes widened as your head snapped to the other side, tears instantly sprung to your eyes. You remained like that, unmoving and quiet, fighting with your tears. I’d rather die than cry right now. Your father scoffed and you felt the sheet hit your head as he threw that at you as well, as he turned away from you.

“You have three months to fix your mistakes, Y/N. After that, I will not see you anymore in this house.” You gulped at his words, straightening once he walked away and you knew he wouldn’t hit you again. You remained in front of his desk as he walked towards his door, about to get changed for his date with your mother. A broken chuckle left your lips as you looked up at the ceiling, one single tear rolling down your cheek. Better make his life hell in those three months!

“I can’t wait to leave this fucking hell!” You hissed, unaware that your father didn’t leave the room yet. He hesitated taking his next step as he looked back at you with furrowed eyebrows, taken aback by your words.

“I wish I was never born into this fucking family.” At this point, you didn’t even care if he was still standing in the doorway or not, it just felt good to speak your mind aloud. You wanted to shout at the top of your lungs for your parents to hear what you had to say. You wanted everyone to know. I hate them. Your father gulped as he took one final look at you, his jaw clenched, before he shook his head and walked away with a scoff. All he could think of was that you were a spoiled, ungrateful brat. Meanwhile, all you could think of was the day you’d finally be able to run away. In three months, you’d turn eighteen, school would finally end, and you’d leave this shithole you hated with your whole heart. Screw them both, who gives a fuck about them anyways?

That night you went to bed crying, which resulted in having a puffy face once you woke up. Your study session with DK wasn’t very successful and once he realized you just weren’t in the right state of mind to study, he dismissed you and set another appointment for next week, saying your English was almost better than his and that you didn’t even need tutoring. You knew that, but you were hopeful that if DK helps you out, on your next exam you’ll get a 10/10 just to spite your father before you move out. While crying, you have decided, that no matter what, in three months you were out of that place. You didn’t want to stay there anymore, you’d rent out a small apartment downtown, find a job and finish your last year of high school. You knew your mother would secretly support you and give you enough money to survive for months, but you didn’t want anything that was theirs anymore…especially their money. When you looked in the mirror to get ready for a new day, all you could do was sigh. Your eyes were big and red and you knew you’d have to spend half an hour just pouring cold water on them to make the swell go away. But when you pulled your hair in a bun, you knew the greenish-bluish bruise on your right cheekbone wouldn’t go away with cold water, you had to put on makeup. This is why you didn’t tell Yoona exactly everything about your family, especially your father, she would’ve reported it without a second thought. You disliked your parents, yes, but they were still your parents. Right now, they were everything you’ve got and you could make them suffer in different, much more effective ways. You decided to let your hair rest freely today, knowing it would offer more cover for your cheek, even if the expensive foundation and color corrector did their jobs fairly well. At breakfast you didn’t speak at all to your parents and you refused to ride with John and your father to school, taking the bus instead as you were running late a bit to be walking. You were in a bad mood all day and everyone could see it, even Yoona, who was a lot more cheerful than yesterday. She promised to hang out with you at lunch break and you were thankful, you felt like you needed to be in her presence today. Vernon was becoming plain annoying with his constant staring and his attempt to talk to you in one of the short breaks you had between classes, which alerted everyone from your class. You threw him a harsh glare and he understood that you wanted nothing to do with him, so he went back to his desk and left you alone for the rest of the day.

You were fixing your makeup before the lunch break arrived, your geography teacher let you off early today, as you stared into your small pocket mirror. You pulled your hair behind your ear as you took out the little cushion and started tapping it lightly against your cheekbone, not much of the foundation had come off, but you wanted to be sure. Especially since you were having lunch with Yoona. As you stared at yourself, your eyes looking lifeless, your ears picked up a loud voice greeting someone from your classroom. You looked up, curious, and your eyes fell on Vernon’s table. A darker blonde-haired boy, quite scrawny looking with dirty clothes, was leaning against Vernon’s desk. He looked younger than the two of you, maybe he was your age, but his complex gave him a boyish look. Vernon looked panicked as he stared at the boy, pinching his ear and making the boy cry out. A few of your classmates glanced at them, but no one seemed as invested and curious as you were. Vernon looked like he got caught doing something illegal, it definitely picked your interest. In your mind, Vernon was this perfect boy, perfect student, whom never did anything bad. Seeing that look on his face, you placed your mirror down on your desk and sneakily continued to watch them.

“Hyung, I’m just here to tell you something important!” The young boy exclaimed annoyed, earning a few more confused looks as he wasn’t wearing your high school’s uniform…or any for that matter. Is he not in school? He seems very young however…maybe he just skipped classes today? Vernon’s eyes widened and accidentally connected with yours and you quickly looked down, absentmindedly flipping through your long-forgotten fashion magazine. You felt his gaze remain on you for a few more seconds before it was gone; you peaked up at them to see the younger boy hunched over Vernon’s desk as he was articulately whispering something. Now, that made you even more curious about what they were speaking, and you looked back down at your magazine. A model you didn’t like had their picture on the page, so, you gripped it and tore the page out, crumbling the paper up. There, this should do for a good excuse to pass by them. You cleared your throat, feeling like you were about to commit a felony, and checked if anyone was watching you, but no one was. You hummed to yourself and looked around, trying to look innocent as you started slowly walking towards Vernon’s desk. Your heart started beating faster as your grip tightened on the paper and you slowed down even more once you could hear the boy’s high-pitched voice.

“Hyung, I’m not kidding! They said they’ll pay really well!” Pay well for what? Your eyebrows furrowed as you became intrigued, eager to find out more.

“I’m not racing against Jun anymore, why can’t you understand that?!” Vernon snapped quietly; his eyebrows were furrowed as he was glaring at his desk. The young boy sighed loudly and you actually stopped walking, standing just two feet away from them. Jun? Vernon is racing? Is this what I think it is?

“Come on, hyung!” The young boy whined and you jumped when something crashed in the back, the paper falling from your grip, “It’s tomorrow night, on a Friday, your mom won’t be pissed if we go racing—”

“Shut up!” Vernon’s voice was hard as you made eye contact. Your face must have said it all because Vernon didn’t look pleased, you heard something you weren’t supposed to. You cleared your throat and walked to the trash bin, feeling the little smirk creep onto your lips. Vernon races? How come I’ve never seen him before? Your thoughts became a whirlwind as you turned to walk back to your desk, eyes falling onto Vernon. He was glaring at you and suddenly you felt powerful, like you were in control of this situation. Vernon was racing Jun? Last month I beat Jun…that means…I can finally beat Vernon at something. You were suddenly pleased and even your mood got better, something you weren’t expecting to happen anytime soon. You didn’t have to think twice as the bell rang signaling it was time for lunch break. The young boy hadn’t left yet and it looked like Vernon was scolding him as you reached inside your backpack and felt around it. You gripped your sandwich first and then the cold rolled up material. You took both items out and your lips widened into a big smirk as your eyes fell on Vernon, who was busy talking to the boy. This is it. I can finally show him he isn’t better at everything. He’s not rich, I have a Veyron, it doesn’t matter what car he has, I will beat him without a doubt. You took off, gripping your things tightly as you were headed straight towards Vernon’s table. Him and the boy stopped whispering when they felt your presence behind them and they turned both to look at you. You slammed the big roll of cash on Vernon’s table, making their jaws drop as the young boy looked back at you as if you grew two heads out. You felt powerful and proud, so, with a wink directed at the young boy you brushed past him to find Yoona and enjoy your lunch with her. You knew Vernon understood your message.

Classes passed by quickly and you were buzzing to get out of school, for once not even having thought of your parents since the incident with Vernon. You wanted to talk to him, but not at school, you didn’t want your classmates to start more unwanted rumors about you or Vernon. You might dislike him, but you didn’t want to drag him into unnecessary drama. So, you told Yoona that tomorrow you were going to the races and she was excited, telling you she’d be there too with Johnny and his crew, and that she’d cheer for you. She was proud of you and amused at the same time, she knew you disliked Vernon, so she understood how much this meant to you. It was childish, but Yoona didn’t judge you for it, even cheered you on, she could see something was wrong today. So, when you left the school gates, you walked down the street after you promised Yoona that she could drive you home tomorrow, and you turned the corner. You knew Vernon walked this way to get home, so you leaned against the stone wall of the school fence and took a deep breath in, suddenly confused why your heart was beating so fast. Am I nervous because I’m about to see Vernon? No, that’s stupid, I don’t have a reason to feel this way around him. You stood up straight when Vernon rounded the corner and his eyes fell on you, narrowing dangerously as he approached you. When he stopped in front of you, he remained silent and you rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to speak.

“I’m sure you know what I meant by that…” You trailed off and Vernon nodded wordlessly, “I’m challenging you to race.”

“I know.” Vernon nodded again, his voice seemed to be a lot deeper right now, and you didn’t even realize it when you blushed.

“I heard some rumors…” You started, trying to remain confident under his sudden intimidating gaze, “About a guy called Vernon who drifts better than Lee Seungkwan, is that you?”

A smirk appeared on Vernon’s lips and your eyebrows furrowed when your heartbeat picked up again, suddenly you felt hot standing under the sun, “It is me.”

You didn’t like the look on Vernon’s face, you felt like he knew he was making you flustered, so you took a step to be closer, “Well then, here’s my proposal…I win, you teach me how to drift. You win, I’ll go on a date with you.”

I can’t believe this is the proposal I’m making, I sound stupid. How do I know he wants to go on a date with me? Now I’m just blindly assuming and insinuating that he might like me, oh no…Your cheeks warmed up again and you hated the way Vernon started laughing, his mouth opening and showing his teeth.

“How do you know if I want to go on a date with you?” Vernon raised one eyebrow and you rolled your eyes, trying to mask your initial panic.

“Call it a hunch,” You answered back with a smirk, trying to fake your confidence that suddenly decided to disappear, “are you in or not?”

Vernon remained silent for a few seconds as his eyes ran over your face, his features softening. You bit your lower lip, feeling nervous all of a sudden as no boy looked at you like that before.

“I’m in.” He extended his hand for you to shake and you looked down at it, hesitantly shaking his hand. His grip was strong and warm, his palm surprisingly soft as it caressed yours, it was so much bigger. Your cheeks burned again and your eyebrows furrowed as you became angry at yourself and pulled your hand away, throwing Vernon a small glare. He seemed amused as you turned and stormed off, completely missing the smitten look Vernon was giving you.

You woke up feeling excited, which was a foreign feeling, as you usually dreaded having breakfast with your parents. Last night you tried to nurse the bruise on your cheek with ice and ointment, but the colors were still there and you had to cover it with foundation once again. You let your hair hang freely once again and once you were dressed; you went out to have breakfast. Your parents weren’t in the dining room, so you headed to the kitchen, surprising the maids, and asked them to let you have breakfast there. They were hesitant but didn’t try to argue with you when they saw the genuine smile on your face; they could see how your mood was strangely good today and decided not to ruin it. After that, you skillfully creeped around the apartment, making sure to avoid your parents as you headed for school, your long strides taking you to school quickly. Yoona and you got there at the same time so you asked her to take you to Jihoon’s car-service after school, she said she’d drive you home today after all, as your Veyron was ready to be picked up for tonight’s race. Vernon seemed to be smug as he offered you a few smirks here and there throughout the day, and when you returned from the restroom, you found a protein bar on your desk. Confused, you looked around and watched your classmates, who weren’t paying much attention to you. Vernon wasn’t in the classroom and you sighed, about to sit, when Hanna waved her hand at you. You raised your eyebrows at her in question and she just pointed at Vernon’s table before at the protein bar. You understood what she tried saying and with red cheeks you slumped into your chair, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Your gaze fell on the protein bar and just as you poked it annoyed, Vernon walked in with two of his friends and his eyes fell on you. You threw him a glare and hid behind your long hair, refusing to let him see the blush on your cheeks, I blushed enough yesterday. His ego didn’t need to be further fed. You found it amusing how sure he looked of himself, you knew he was convinced that he’d win tonight, but you also knew he’d be a sore loser. You haven’t seen many people with expensive cars at the races, even if the engine is the one that counts, your Veyron just naturally was faster and better than most cars they owned. It was why you were able to win so many races until now and why Jihoon approached you in the first place. He was excited to see the new engine he installed in action tonight, he would sell it for big money if you win.

Your parents were still out on their date when you left the apartment, you didn’t have to worry about them seeing you dressed ‘like a hooker’, as they called this style. It wasn’t even anything bad, just leather pants and a strapless crop top and your leather jacket. You wore your thick, plain, platformed boots so that you’ll seem taller but be able to drive at the same time. Once you got to the garage you smiled pridefully at your car as you unlocked it. You really loved the car; it was your most prized possession as it brought you many victories so far. Once you turned the car on, goosebumps appeared on your arms at the roar of the engine. It was humming loudly and it shook your car in the best way possible as you carefully drove out of the garage. You turned on the radio and chuckled when Yoona’s favorite song came on, rolling down the windows to let the chilly air of the night fill your car. You pulled your hair in a low ponytail so that it wouldn’t accidentally get in your face and disturb you, you were aware of what you did was dangerous. You were careful as you drove down the illuminated streets of Seoul, making sure you wouldn’t exceed the speed limit. Wouldn’t want to make your father hate you more and take your car away. You’d get there at least fifteen minutes earlier, and you’d lie if you said your stomach wasn’t whirling around due to nervousness. You gripped the wheel tightly as you shook your head, passing by a green light, trying to clear your mind. This really isn’t the time to be nervous about something that I will most definitely win. The engine change wasn’t very obvious, your car was actually a bit slower, but it still flew down the streets if you pressed the gas pedal. Jihoon assured you you’d definitely win, even with the slight change, and you promised to give half of the profit to him. Tonight, he was making good money, people would flock to him to buy this new engine which to them seemed like it was as fast as an original Veyron engine, people were easy to fool. You drove through downtown and past some warehouses, music getting carried to where you were currently, even though the meeting point was one block away. You slowed as you turned the next corner and shut the lights of the car off as the street was illuminated well enough by the lampposts but the reflectors brought by the people here too. The street you were on was a very long streets, on both sides were abandoned buildings, and cars were parked close to those building to leave space for the circulating cars, and people, to pass by. You honked softly and the mass of people in front of you started fleeing out of your way, creating a straight path for you to the start line. You slowly rolled by them, the loud music coming from different car speakers could be felt even in your car, you picked up on the slight vibrations. People who knew you greeted you with grins and tapped your turquoise car, becoming excited when they saw you weren’t about to park anywhere. They knew you were racing tonight and as you arrived to the start line, people started cheering your name. You started laughing as you turned the engine off and got out of your car, grinning at the people surrounding you.

“There you are!” Yoona exclaimed as she leaned against the front of your car, arms crossed in front of her. You chuckled and approached her, draping an arm around her shoulders.

“Did you think I’d miss tonight?”

“Nothing’s ever sure with you…” She was right and you rolled your eyes, having missed races not once because of your parents being home. They didn’t know what you did in your free time, but sometimes they’d forbid you from spending your Fridays out, even though you always said you were sleeping over at Yoona’s.

“Did you see Vernon?” You asked as you looked around, unable to see anyone familiar in the huge crowd around you. Butterflies in your stomach made you rub your tummy as you pouted and Yoona started laughing loudly.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous?” Her eyebrows raised and you decided not to look at her, “And no, I don’t even know if he’s here. Maybe he chickened out—”

A loud roar of an engine made Yoona’s words unable to be heard and you whipped your head around, eyes falling on a red Honda Civic Type R. The windows were tinted and you couldn’t see inside, but you knew it was Vernon, no one else was racing beside the two of you for the next twenty minutes. Yoona’s eyes widened just a bit as you both watched Vernon get out of the car and you were confused when two blondes ran up to him squealing.

“Oppa!” They chorused and your face distorted into disgust as Yoona burst out laughing, leaning back as her head was thrown back. You looked at her, expression still the same, and it made her laugh louder and harder. Your eyes fell on Johnny, who was smirking, as he started approaching you, his eyes falling on Vernon.

“Brought along your Barbie dolls, eh?” He tapped Yoona’s thigh as he walked past, headed for Vernon. The two blondes clung onto Vernon’s arms and you finally looked at him, taking in his attire. He wore ripped jeans and a form fitting navy green blouse, a leather jacket keeping him warm from the chilly air. A few chains hung around his neck and his dark hair was pushed back. You were surprised to see Vernon dressed like this; you didn’t think his style would be like that. You’ve only ever seen him in his uniform and some loose gym clothes. You gulped and Yoona nudged you, eyes squinted.

“Stop staring at him, you’re making it very obvious.” She muttered as she leaned down as if she was about to whisper something to you.

“What?” You asked confused as you turned your head, Vernon just shook hands with Johnny, and you then looked back at Yoona.

“That you like him.” Yoona’s words hit you like a truck and you couldn’t help the very loud scoff that left your lips. Is she crazy? I like Vernon? Where did she get that from?!

“Did you take something before you—”

Yoona threw you a warning glare and you didn’t finish your sentence as you knew better, but your attention was back on Johnny and Vernon, it looked like they’ve known each other for quite a while as they talked casually.

“Taking her out for a tour?” Johnny asked with a grin as he placed his hand on Vernon’s Honda. Vernon nodded and untangled himself from the two blondes, a smirk appearing on his lips. Your stomach did a somersault and you gasped quietly, confused as to what that feeling meant and why you only ever felt so flustered around Vernon. Yoona can’t be right…

“Nah, I’m here to claim my prize.” Vernon’s eyes fell on you and your back straightened as you quickly smoothed your expression into a neutral one. You knew your cheeks were still burning, but it was so chilly outside, one could blame it on that. You chuckled as Johnny looked at you too, seemingly having realized Vernon was racing you tonight.

“I don’t know man,” He said with an amused smirk, patting Vernon’s back forcefully, “I’ve never seen Y/N lose before in that car.”

You couldn’t help but notice the slight envy that slipped into Johnny’s tone and it made you smirk; you always knew he wanted your car. He was pretty pissed when you refused to let him drive it, you weren’t about to let a lunatic wreck your precious car. If something happened to it and you’d had to tell your parents it was Johnny’s fault, you were sure you’d never get to see the daylight ever again.

“You’re still in, right, Chwe?” You raised your eyebrows mockingly and Vernon scoffed, opening his door.

“Why don’t you sit inside your car so that we get over with this?” You chuckled and pushed off your car, Yoona following suit as Johnny walked up to the two of you, grabbing Yoona’s nape. You watched as he stared her in the eyes, eyes narrowing the slightest at her, and Yoona’s jaw clenched as she waited patiently for Johnny to stop. You hated when he did that, tried dominating Yoona or got possessive to the point of hurting her, so you ripped your car door open and pressed down on the honk harshly. Both of them jumped and Johnny looked at you with a glare.

“Move along, dickhead, I haven’t got all night.” You snapped at him and he chuckled, releasing Yoona, who looked thankful as she pushed Johnny slightly back and walked away while shooting you a finger heart.

“Don’t crash.” You rolled your eyes at Johnny’s words and got in as he walked to the side where Yoona stood, circling his arms around your best friend’s waist. Out of nowhere, Jun showed up, holding a checkered flag. You closed your door shut and put on your seatbelt, melting into your seat. Vernon’s engine roared to life and you were quick to do the same, Jun having come to a stop between the two cars.

“You know the drill,” Jun shouted over everyone’s voice, “You’ve got 400 meters, whichever finishes first wins and gets the money.”

Vernon reeled his engine and you just smirked; eyes fixed on the checkered flag as Jun raised it. You always concentrated, how you start, is the most important thing. You can’t lose seconds and you have to be faster than the other one, it gives you already a very small but significant advantage. You gripped the gearstick and the wheel with your other hand, ready to shift it into drive. You hated how your eyes had to take a glance at Vernon and it annoyed you even more when you realized his eyes were on you. What if Yoona is right and I do like him? I do feel flustered around him. Isn’t it just because he makes me angry? A few days ago, I was convinced I hated him with all my heart. What is it that I truly feel for him then? Jun’s hand with the flag dropped and you shifted the gearstick just in a second, your foot pressing down the gas pedal. You didn’t look anywhere else as your car came to an abrupt start, the safety belt cutting into the exposed skin of your collarbones and your eyebrows furrowed as your car picked up speed in just seconds. Everything became a blur around you, all you saw was the finish line that was still far away, but you were getting closer and closer. You didn’t know where Vernon was, but having not seen him pass you, you believed he was still behind somewhere. Your stiff body almost felt relaxed, despite the contraction of your muscles to keep the car going in a straight line at such high speed, and your mind was silent. You didn’t hear anything, the radio was always off when you raced because you wanted to hear the engine, and your labored breathing felt almost relaxing. You felt in control and free, a small smile slipped onto your lips when you noticed Seungkwan standing on the side with a big checkered flag, flapping it around above him. You were close, just a few more meters. Your engine cried loudly as you pushed the gas pedal for another boost of energy, your car crossing the finish line before Vernon’s could. You let go of the gas pedal and hit the brakes, your car coming to a stop slowly but surely. People flooded around your car and your head rested on the head rest as you closed your eyes, surprised by how fast your heart was beating. Adrenaline always flooded your veins, but never this much. You opened one eye and glanced to your left, but Vernon’s car was nowhere. It confused you as you turned the engine off, undoing your seatbelt. People were cheering for you, your name leaving their lips as they tapped your car in congratulations, and you gripped the door handle to open it. Just as you pushed it open, it was pushed back closed and your eyebrows furrowed, until Vernon’s face popped up. He motioned with his finger to roll down your window and you did, still looking at him confused.

“What are you doing?” You asked, your voice loud, as Vernon threw the cash back at you, making it land in your lap.

“I lost,” His tone was hard and he looked displeased, “but you knew I would, so take your money back.”

You rolled your eyes and gripped the cash, raising it up between your faces, “I gave it to you regardless of the outcome, our deal was about something else—”

“I’m not your charity case!” Vernon’s voice turned harsh and you raised your eyebrows at him, finding it weird how pissed he suddenly was, “I’ll meet you tomorrow at noon at the abandoned sandy tracks half an hour from here. Don’t come with the Veyron, it’s not a car for beginners.”

You opened your mouth to snap at him that you weren’t a beginner, but Vernon turned around and stormed away, pushing people out of his way. You turned your head to see where he was headed, and you found his car just a few meters away from the finish line, 100 meter between yours and his car. What a dick.

The revving of the engine was a sign that you were doing something wrong and out of anger, you hit the brakes harshly, sending yourself and the person sitting in the passenger seat forward. Your heart was beating fast as you gripped the steering wheel with both hands, your skin melting into the material of the wheel. The seatbelt was cutting into your skin too and your jaw clenched when a chuckle came from your right. You knew Vernon was smirking in amusement, very pleased to see you fail once again. You thought you’d learn how to drift quickly and easily, but here you were, almost two hours later, barely being able to make one right turn. You didn’t know what it was that made it so hard, it couldn’t have been Vernon’s Honda, you’ve driven cars like his before thanks to Jihoon; you really didn’t understand what was the matter. I can’t believe I’ve been embarrassing myself for the past two hours. A sigh left your mouth and you glanced at Vernon, who’s right arm was perched on the windowsill and he had his smirk still on.

“You suck at teaching,” You had to say something to save yourself from further embarrassment, “That’s why I still can’t do it.”

It was so amusing to Vernon that he started laughing, his mouth widening and his teeth showed. Your heart only seemed to pick up its rhythm and your eyebrows furrowed as you harshly shifted the gear to start doing another round.

“Hey, hey—” Vernon was quick to notice your change of demeanor and your fingers tightened around the shift stick when he gripped your hand, “I think we had enough for today, Y/N…especially my car. I can’t have you burning down my brakes, sorry.”

“If you’d let me come with my Veyron you wouldn’t be here complaining—”

“And risk wrecking that car?” Vernon’s eyebrows shoot up and you looked at him, his hand was still on top of yours as if he forgot it there, “Hell, I bet your parents don’t even know you race…I for sure would bite my kid’s head off if I found out they raced with a car like yours—”

“Yeah,” You snapped, eyes blazing as you glared at Vernon, what does he know about me, “That’s why they don’t know. Let go of my hand now and tell me where to drive.”

Vernon gulped and if you weren’t so angry, you probably would have blushed at his reaction. He looked down at your hands as if he realized due to your words it was still on top of yours and he quickly placed it in his lap, clearing his throat as you looked away, “I’m quite hungry, let’s have lunch.”

“Just tell me where you live and I’ll call John to pick me up—”

“No!” Vernon’s voice rose a bit and you looked at him surprised as you were driving away from the abandoned race tracks, “I mean…come have lunch with us. My mom knows where we are and she’d be really pissed if I didn’t invite you for lunch…”

Your heart started beating fast again and you bit your lower lip, trying to ignore his words and the temptation to say yes, “I can’t stay.”

“Please—”

“No.” Vernon knew it was final and that he couldn’t try convincing you anymore, but he really wanted you to stay. He was amazed by you, truth be told. He didn’t know what was so attractive about you, because you might have been beautiful, but he never really cared much about looks. Something about the way you would always look at him, he felt some hidden feelings that you desperately tried to hide from him and yourself as well. He knew you had something with him personally, he didn’t understand why, but he hoped one day you’d have enough courage to tell him. It was the only reason why he never tried getting close to you, he was afraid honestly, that you’d reject him in a very unpleasant way and he wanted to save himself from the heartbreak. He didn’t even know you raced, he never heard of your name being gossiped at the races, however, he did hear something from Chan, who worked for Lee Jihoon. But you weren’t the only girl who’s name was Y/N, he couldn’t just assume so boldly. As you focused on the road, on driving back towards the main roads, you failed to notice Vernon’s intense gaze analyzing your every movement, expression. Your bruise had faded nicely, after icing it non-stop when you were home, but you could still faintly see it. So faintly, that one would have to be really close next to you to see it, or so you thought. Vernon clearly saw it and just as he opened his mouth to question what it was, you sighed.

“Yesterday…” You started quietly, your muscles having eased now that you were just driving around casually and Vernon wasn’t touching you, “I feel like I insulted you…”

Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched you, pointing towards a street, to which you turned, “Insulted me?”

“With the money…I didn’t want to make it seem like I was—”

But Vernon didn’t want to hear it, because quite frankly, he wasn’t insulted at all last night. He was pissed, because you won. And that was only because he really wanted to go on that date with you. However, now that you’ve been alone in his car for almost two hours, he didn’t seem to mind it that much, “I wasn’t insulted, Y/N. I know you are rich and that I have less than you, but it didn’t mean anything to me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and once again followed Vernon’s instructions, which lead to a quiet side of the city, “Why were you so angry then?”

“I was frustrated, not necessarily angry.” Your lips pulled up into a smile and you glanced at Vernon.

“I probably should have warned you I drive a Veyron—”

“I heard Jihoon sold your engine.”

“It wasn’t mine. He bought it and wanted me to show it off so that he could sell it for more.”

“Smart.”

“I know.” You found yourself glancing at Vernon with a smile, which he returned, as he pointed towards a house at the end of the street. It was a dead end, and theirs was the last house. It looked normal size, white, and had a nice front lawn. You didn’t think Vernon was poor, but the quality of the house surprised you. It had a refreshing look and definitely looked cozy just from the outside. You parked the car in the driveway, like Vernon instructed, and turned the engine off. You both undid your seatbelts and got out of the car; your eyes glanced towards the house. The window on the second floor was opened and loud music was blasting through it. A smile had pulled onto your lips without realizing and Vernon cleared his throat to get your attention.

“That’s my sister…she’s a bit loud sometimes.” You nodded as your eyes fell on Vernon, who’s hands were in the pockets of his baggy jeans, it weirdly looked good on him. Vernon’s style surprised you. It looked really cool and was actually very fitting for him, now you realized. It would be weird seeing him now in his uniform, knowing his preference in clothes.

“I’ll call John—" But just as you grabbed your phone from your jacket, the front door opened and a middle-aged lady walked out, hands on her waist.

“Look at you two!” She exclaimed in English and your lips instantly pulled into a smile, her accent sounding an awful lot like Vernon’s, “I thought you’d never come home. Come on!”

Vernon grinned at his mother and took off, but you remained put, “Uh, ma’am I’ll be calling my father’s driver to pick me up.”

“Non-sense!” Vernon’s mother’s eyebrows furrowed as she stepped down a few steps, “Hurry up inside, I just finished the soup.”

“Ma’am, I really can’t stay for lunch—”

“Vernon, go get her!” And before you could disagree more, his mother walked inside, leaving the door open for you. Your eyes fell on Vernon and you shook your head, about to dial John’s number. I really don’t want to be here right now. My father is already pissed enough at me, I shouldn’t miss lunch today…especially since we are meeting with his business partners.

“If you don’t have lunch with us, mom won’t let me help you tomorrow or next week.” Your eyebrows furrowed at Vernon’s words and you looked down at your cellphone, hesitant to put it away. Would it really be so bad if I stayed? It’s just one lunch. Besides, I most definitely don’t want to meet Mr. Kim’s son, he’s too rude for my liking. You rolled your eyes and put your phone on ‘do not disturb’, putting it back inside your jacket’s pocket as you followed Vernon inside the house.

The house on the inside was exactly how you imagined it to be. Walls white with big windows to let the natural light inside and everywhere you looked, you saw family pictures. It seemed like Vernon’s mother really liked flowers too as you could find them in every corner of the house. There was a scent of homecooked meal and it smelled so much better than the one coming from your maids at home. It was a lot warmer inside than outside, so you decided to get rid of your jacket too after you left your shoes in the doorway. You’d usually wear flip flops at home, but when Vernon gave you none and instructed to just go straight ahead while he went upstairs, you didn’t say anything about it. You watched Vernon hurry up the stairs as you walked down the hallway, humming coming from where Vernon instructed you to head towards.

“Oh, good!” It was his mom, once you stepped inside the kitchen, the scent of homecooked food was stronger. The kitchen wasn’t very big, just enough for a few people to be inside, but when you looked to your left you noticed there was a dining room, the young boy from school was there actually. He was sitting on a chair, one foot up on the chair next to him as he watched something on his phone, picking his nose in the process. It was a sight you weren’t expecting, such a normal sight you never got to see at home, that it made you laugh. You actually started laughing so hard it alerted the young boy, who’s cheeks became pink and he shoot you a glare.

“Chan,” Vernon’s mom sighed as she glanced back to see what was so funny, “He was picking his nose again, wasn’t he?”

You only nodded as you tried to stop laughing, the boy actually got up and walked towards you with a small glare. You weren’t aware that Vernon had a brother, besides, this Chan boy looked nothing like Vernon or his mother.

“I’m Y/L/N Y/N by the way,” You spoke up as Chan stopped beside you, squaring you up with his eyes, as you watched Vernon’s mother.

“Yes, Vernon told me who he was going with. Wasn’t expecting a girl to want to learn how to drift.” Chan scoffed next to you as he offered you his hand once he was done taking your form in.

“Lee Chan.” You shook his hand and narrowed your eyes at him, “And Mrs. Chwe, I told you women like to race. Sometimes there’s more of them at the race tracks than men.”

“He’s not wrong.” You approved of his words, looking back at him, “You’re not related to the Lee family, right?”

“Do I look like I am?” Chan had a sharp tongue and you scoffed, watching him brush past you, “Let me put the plates, Mrs. Chwe.”

“You should be studying, Chan, dear.” Chan just rolled his eyes as he opened a drawer and pointed at the cutlery and motioned for you to take them. You grimaced at him but proceeded to help him out, it was better than standing awkwardly in the kitchen and doing nothing.

“Studying is a luxury that I can’t benefit of.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you walked alongside Chan to the dining room, setting the plates and cutlery on the long table.

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly, noticing one plate missing.

“I don’t have enough money to go to school, Y/N.” Chan answered with an impassive voice, but you couldn’t help and notice the yearning behind his words.

“How old are you?” You found yourself asking again, something tugging at your heartstrings. Am I feeling bad for him? He deserves to have part of education like everyone else. He seems like a quick-witted boy.

“Sixteen.” Chan muttered and brushed past you as he headed for the door of the kitchen. You looked at Mrs. Chwe as she brought the pot of soup to the table, still steaming as it had been recently finished. She had a sad expression as she heard your little exchange with Chan and it suddenly all made sense. He’s here because they are taking care of him. I don’t know his home situation, but if Mrs. Chwe took him in, it must mean that he wasn’t living well before at all.

“Vernon! Sofia!” You jumped at Chan’s shrill voice and Mrs. Chwe chuckled, taking a seat at the head of the table.

“Sit wherever you want,” She offered you a smile and you chose to sit on her left, the cushion was soft underneath your bum, “Can’t believe my son just left you to yourself, where are his manners.”

“It’s alright, Mrs. Chwe.” You reassured her, sitting patiently as Chan chose to sit across from you. You internally cursed and hoped that Sofia would take the seat next to you, but you didn’t have that much luck. As the girl came into view, she raced Vernon and jumped into the seat next to Chan, leaving Vernon with a glare directed at her. You looked at Vernon and tried to keep a neutral expression, knowing all eyes were basically on the two of you. His black hair was dripping still and he had changed from the clothes he was wearing earlier today. He wore black sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt, which made your heart beat faster. You never noticed that Vernon had muscles before and you were praying to all Gods that you wouldn’t blush upon seeing the way his t-shirt sat tightly against his chest.

“Finally,” His mother said with a sour expression and Vernon chuckled awkwardly, taking his seat next to you. You tensed up when Vernon’s knee knocked into yours underneath the table and Chan just randomly chuckled, making everyone look at him.

“Nothing, sorry!” He quickly dismissed it and greedily grabbed for the ladle to pour soup into his bowl. Vernon kept his eyes on Chan and the younger boy tried to mask his chuckle with a scoff. It was weird but you said nothing as this seemed to be normal for the other people sitting at the table.

“I’m Sofia!” Your eyes fell on the girl sitting next to Chan and you offered her a genuine smile.

“I’m Y/N.” She grinned back at you and stole the ladle from Chan, elbowing him when he filled his bowl to the brim.

“I love this soup, stop it!” He exclaimed loudly and scooted his chair away from the girl, throwing daggers at her.

“You won’t leave anything for us!” Sofia fired back and you sat quietly, your body once again relaxed. Vernon’s hands on the table kept clenching and unclenching and you stole a glance at him, he was watching his sister and friend’s banter with a glare.

“Stop it, kids,” Mrs. Chwe intervened and took the ladle from Sofia once she was done, “You always serve the guest first.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry!” You quickly dismissed her words, offering her your bowl when she raised her hand, “You don’t have to change your habits just because I’m here.”

Vernon’s mother smiled as she handed you back the bowl, “You seem to be the most well behaved here, my dear.”

Your cheeks became hot and before you could dismiss her words, Chan erupted into giggles, “Of course, Mrs. Chwe! Can’t you smell the richness? I could, even from miles away—” Before Chan could finish his sentence, he cried out and jumped a bit, glaring at Vernon, who was glaring at him back. You looked at Vernon and saw how his jaw was clenched and his mother sighed, taking her son’s bowl to pour some soup for him too.

“Rich or poor, Chan, in this house it doesn’t matter, yes?” Her voice was scolding and Chan grew smaller in his seat, as if he realized he wasn’t at his real home here and apologized quietly. Once you started eating your soup, you remained quiet and listened to the casual conversations from around. It wasn’t because you had nothing to say, it’s just that habits are hard to change, and at your house no one spoke while you ate…well, sometimes your mother would, until your father would reprimand her for it. You smiled softly when Sofia talked about her recent trip with her friends to a resort not far from the city and felt a bit bad when Chan confessed that he wouldn’t be going home this month either. You didn’t know his story, but it was obvious how much it bothered him that he couldn’t be there. Vernon answered his mom when he was asked something, but otherwise remained silent like you, stealing glances that you obviously noticed but ignored in order to stop yourself from blushing.

“Did Vernon manage to teach you something today, Y/N?” Mrs. Chwe asked you just as you finished eating and your eyebrows furrowed.

“He tried to…” You muttered and subconsciously threw a glare at Vernon, “But I didn’t do much.”

“You aren’t bad though.” You scoffed and whipped your head towards Vernon, for a second forgetting that it wasn’t just the two of you there.

“Saying that now to seem nice, huh? Who are you trying to impress?” Everyone remained silent at your snappy tone and you grew embarrassed, realizing you were acting out again. It was just getting to you. The atmosphere at the table, how nice everyone was to everyone, how Mrs. Chwe seemed to know her kids and didn’t even have to ask them because she already knew what bothered them. Even Chan was treated well and Mrs. Chwe was babying him, offering him more soup once he was done even though he probably couldn’t eat more. It was obvious that everyone was cared of and loved. Hearing Mrs. Chwe calling you ‘my dear’ wasn’t helping with the void you felt in your chest. It was making your stomach ache when you thought of going home after this, after the picture of a loving family was now forever imprinted into your mind. How were you not supposed to hate Vernon now? He isn’t just perfect at school; his whole life seems to be perfect. Everyone loves him and Chan even looks up at him, Sofia seems to love to tease him and no one seems to be always pressuring him. How am I supposed to look at him without envy?

“I’m sorry, that was rude.” You apologized quickly, realizing you’ve stayed quiet for too long.

“Don’t worry, my son isn’t perfect.” Mrs. Chwe’s words were so contradicting towards your thoughts about him, “Whatever misunderstanding you have going on, I understand. Just solve it quickly so that you don’t stay with a grudge.”

“A misunderstanding even I don’t understand.” Vernon mumbled underneath his breath and you looked at him, eyes widening just a little bit. Now you felt worse and you sighed, pushing your hair behind your back.

“Oh, dear!” Everyone looked at Mrs. Chwe surprised, she was looking at you with her eyebrows furrowed, “What happened to your face?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you touched your face with both hands, looking at Vernon out of reflex since you knew him best from the table, to see if he could see something wrong. His eyes looked into yours for a second before they fell on your cheek. Your heart seemed to come to a stop before it sped up dangerously and you just cleared your throat.

“I’m clumsy sometimes,” It was a script you memorized a long time ago, “I have a cabinet in my bathroom that’s around my height and sometimes when I wake up, I’m dizzy and happen to run into it. That’s what happened.”

Everyone but Vernon seemed to buy it, Sofia even laughed, “You should be more carefully, why did you even put the cabinet there?”

“I wasn’t the designer of the apartment.” You joked with her, throwing Vernon a confused glance as his right leg was moving up and down fast, like when you were anxious. Chan and Sofia giggled as Mrs. Chwe stood to gather the bowls.

“Put some ice on it, it’ll go away.” Her voice was soothing and you felt like her, too, knew your story was a lie; but you decided to ignore it and thank her for lunch once again.

“When is Mr. Chwe coming home?” Chan asked as he stood to help Mrs. Chwe take the bowls to the sink. He saved your curiosity and you were happy that he asked before you could.

“I don’t know,” Vernon answered with a shrug, leaning back in his chair, “He took some extra shifts.”

“Yes, because you just had to buy that expensive car to race with.” Mrs. Chwe snapped from the kitchen and you looked at Vernon.

“I’ve been earning more money ever since, mom. You can’t say I’m not trying to help you.” Vernon got defensive, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Your eyes fell on the contracting muscles and you gulped, reaching for your glass to drink some water. Sofia smirked but looked at her phone when she saw you throwing her a questioning glance.

“As if we weren’t in debt before.” The woman sighed to herself, but everyone heard it, and the cash that Vernon threw back at you yesterday felt heavy in your back-pocket. He wasn’t a charity case, he said it himself, but why not give it to him when you seriously didn’t need it? You looked at Vernon and his eyebrows were furrowed as he sighed quietly.

“Thank you for having me for lunch, but I really have to go home now.” You spoke up and stood up, Vernon following your actions. Sofia shot you a pout but she waved as you walked to the kitchen, Vernon behind you.

“You should come more often.” Mrs. Chwe gave you a pat on the head and you bowed your head, waving at Chan, but as you went to step outside of the kitchen, you stopped. Vernon walked into you and your skin tingled as he grabbed onto your arms, steadying himself. You wanted to curse but focused on what you were about to say as you glanced back, having to look over Vernon’s shoulder. He was taller than you.

“Chan, ask Vernon to give you my phone number and whenever you have free time, call me if you feel like studying a little.” Chan’s mouth fell open and you winked at him, taking off again.

“For free?” Chan shouted after you and you chuckled, weirdly not bothered that Vernon was still holding onto you.

“For free!” You called back and Chan started loudly cheering, making Vernon sigh, “You should do the same, Vernon, the poor kid makes it obvious that he’d like to study.”

“You think I didn’t try doing that?” Vernon scoffed and finally released you as you went to pull on your shoes, “He’s stubborn and refuses to listen to me.”

“I guess my beauty is enough to give him motivation then.” You said cutely and Vernon could have sworn his heart stopped beating. You didn’t notice his sudden freeze up as you grabbed your jacket and phone from your pocket.

“Your beauty…” He muttered to himself as you sent a message to John to pick you up, his answer was immediate.

“So…” You looked back at Vernon, sneakily taking the roll of cash from your back-pocket, “We are meeting tomorrow too?”

“That’s the plan, right?” He asked, his voice sounding a bit chocked up and you ignored it as you nodded. Your eyes fell on the table behind him and your heart picked up when you realized what you’d have to do. You wouldn’t have done it, not in a million years, if it wasn’t your only chance to leave the money at him. Your heart started beating fast and Vernon frowned when he saw you closing the gap between you two. You grimaced to yourself as you let your left arm circle his torso, hugging him briefly. Your right arm extended and just as you managed to drop the cash onto the table, Vernon pulled you into himself. You gasped quietly and noticed how refreshing his scent was and the back of his t-shirt was still wet from his dripping hair that seemed only damp now. The hug didn’t last for long but when you pulled back, both of your cheeks were warm and you couldn’t look at Vernon.

“Uhm, see you tomorrow!” Not wanting to hear his voice and feel more flustered, you quickly opened the door and ran down his driveway, refusing to turn back around to watch him close the door. You could still feel his arms around you and how soft his clothes were despite his body being so firm. I think Yoona is right, I might like Vernon.

You couldn’t help the satisfied cry that left your lips as you took your forth successful turn, drifting just like Vernon taught you. You still couldn’t do it each time you tried, but this was the best you’ve done since you’ve been here so far. Vernon was proud as he gripped onto the board of the car, lips in a wide grin. He wasn’t bothered by how sharp your turns were, throwing him around in his seat even though he was buckled up, he was happy that you were happy. He’s never seen you with such wide smile before, and he was mesmerized. He never thought you could become more beautiful than you already were. Your heart was beating fast again as you decided this was satisfying enough to take a break, Vernon’s been complaining for half an hour now. You slowed the car down and stopped the engine when it finally came to a stop. You let out a breath and relaxed in the driver’s seat, feeling accomplished. You could finally do it; you were sure you needed more practice but you actually did it this time.

“That was pretty cool, Y/N.” You forgot you were with Vernon in the car and you became embarrassed as you looked at him, “Am I still a bad teacher?”

“It took me five hours in total to catch the hang of it, I wouldn’t tell anyone you’re very bright at teaching.” It made Vernon chuckle and you realized what he acted like in school was his real personality, he wasn’t faking anything like some people were. It felt nice to be around someone authentic and you found yourself staring at him. His black hair seemed to have wax on as it was twirled in locks and paired with the red sunglasses he wore it made him look very attractive. He had on some black ripped jeans and underneath his neon green oversized jumper he wore a white t-shirt, you could see the collar of it. When Vernon locked eyes with you, you quickly looked away and picked at the ends of your turtleneck; your knee-length skirt had ridden up a bit and was around your thighs, you’d have to pull it lower soon.

“I gave Chan your phone number,” You looked back at Vernon surprised, you didn’t expect Chan to actually accept your offer, “He said he’ll give you a call next week.”

“That’s fine,” You hummed and brushed your long hair behind your back, “The less time I spend at home, the better.”

You wished you didn’t say that, because it seemed like Vernon just remembered something and his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes searched your face. You did not forget to put on foundation today, so he couldn’t see anything wrong with your skin, but suddenly the area felt on fire. You hoped Vernon wouldn’t bring it up now that he couldn’t see it, but you were wrong.

“Why hide the bruise if I have already seen it?”

“I thought it wasn’t visible anymore, good you told me.”

“Wouldn’t want more people getting suspicious?” Your eyebrows furrowed and Vernon rolled his eyes, looking a little irritated.

“What happened?” You shrugged and sighed, trying to remain neutral.

“I told you yesterday, Vernon—”

“But it’s not the truth.” You rolled your eyes but Vernon’s burning gaze made you want to tell him everything. You didn’t know anymore which feeling was stronger: hatred or liking. But you wanted to tell someone and Vernon was willing to listen, maybe you felt like this because you knew Vernon wouldn’t directly go to the police like Yoona would.

“Everyone at school is jealous of me for being rich, for having everything I want and need. But I don’t have everything, Vernon. My parents don’t love, at least my father doesn’t, my mother barely spends time with me nowadays and the bruise—" You hated thinking of how you got certain bruises, your chest ached. You blocked the memories away and you didn’t think it would be this hard to say it. You were scared of how Vernon would react and what he’d think, would he see you differently? Vernon grabbed your hand and you became stiff, wanting to pull your hand away but keep it there at the same time. It was oddly offering you comfort.

“The truth is that—my father—he—hits me.” You muttered quietly and looked down at your hands, unable to look at Vernon. You didn’t want him to see the tears in your eyes, you hated being vulnerable in front of others. And now you were confused about what you actually felt for Vernon, it wasn’t helping. Vernon’s silence was making you uncomfortable and you glanced up at him, his jaw was clenched. He seemed fine, but his jaw gave him away. You knew he was angry and you sighed, pulling your hand away from his.

“Go to the police, tell on him.”

“No, I can’t do that. He’s still my father.”

“Do you even hear yourself?!” Vernon’s sudden raise of voice made you jump as you looked back at him surprised, “This isn’t a little disciplinary spank a parent does from time to time, Y/N. He’s abusing you!”

You didn’t need someone to tell you, you were well aware of that. You threw Vernon a glare and crossed your arms in front of your chest, “Thanks for stating the obvious—”

“No, don’t do that!” He snapped, undoing his seatbelt in his anger, to be able to turn towards you better, “This isn’t something that can be treated lightly, Y/N! You need to tell someone; he has to stop. He has no rights laying his hands on you, do you understand me?”

“Do you understand that I know but I won’t do anything?” You raised your voice as well, your glare becoming harsh, “If I want my life to be ruined forever, sure, I’ll go tell the authorities.”

“He can’t ruin your life for something he did knowingly that it’s wrong—” His words became white noise as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself. Vernon was the last person you needed lecturing from, especially since you were getting this treatment because he was better than you at one fucking subject. Your anger went through the roof and you snaped, unable to take his words.

“Shut up, it’s all because of you!” Vernon’s eyes went wide and he looked so confused, you felt bad for telling him that, “You’re better at English than I am, my father can’t stand that. I have to be best at everything. It’s why I could never stand you, unknowingly you made me hurt. And it’s a shit reason, I know, but it’s true…”

Vernon looked speechless until he started looking regretful and he grabbed your hand again, despite your glare, “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize,” You scoffed, throwing him a look, “It’s not your fault. Don’t worry, I only have to put up with his shit for three more months. I’ll be moving out.”

“Does he know?” Vernon’s eyebrows rose and you scoffed again.

“Of course not. Why would I tell him? He keeps threatening me so I don’t see why I shouldn’t make his threats reality before he gets to proceed with them.” Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“Come move in with us.” You weren’t expecting that at all and your eyes grew wide as you stared at Vernon. Move in with him and his family? That sounded weird, you could manage on your own too. It wasn’t that hard, right?

“I can’t, that house is already packed with you four and Chan spending his time there too.”

“Sofia would love to have another girl around the house, please?”

“Vernon, this isn’t something you get to decide. That house is your parents’ and I can’t show up unannounced, okay?” Your eyebrows rose at him and he sighed, knowing what you were saying was right.

“Fine, but think about it…” You nodded once and he took his hand off from yours, you uncrossed your arms, “Do you really hate me?”

You thought for a second as you watched him, not knowing how to answer him, because you didn’t know how you felt for him. You didn’t actually hate him, but you did envy him.

“I’m not sure how I feel about you…” You muttered and Vernon sighed, leaning back in the seat, “But I don’t think I hate you. I thought you sucked, but maybe you aren’t that bad.”

It made Vernon chuckle and when he looked over at you, your heart started beating quickly again and you blushed. If you constantly kept reacting like that it meant that you actually felt something more for him, right? Yoona must have been right, she never joked around with things like this one, and you bit your lower lip as the two of you watched each other quietly. You were always bold with others and merciless, not really caring if they got hurt by your words or not. You felt like you gave Vernon the wrong idea and now he might have been convinced that you hated him, which wasn’t true at all. You thought maybe you should be bold for once with your actions too and you cleared your throat, which made Vernon glance at you. He wasn’t making it easier but maybe if he saw you leaning in, he wouldn’t pull away in surprise. So, you leaned over the middle console and with your eyes on his lips, you tried closing the gap but Vernon was too far away. It would have been embarrassing if Vernon had not leaned in as well, pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t as bad as you thought your first kiss would be, his lips were soft and you found that cute. It didn’t last for long either because Vernon seemed to be flustered as he stiffly pulled his head back, looking into your eyes.

“You might not be my favorite person in the world, but I think I like you.” You found yourself saying and Vernon chuckled, scratching the back of his nape as his ears and neck were red.

“Go on a date with me? Even if I lost the bet….” Vernon asked with a cheeky grin, looking just as flustered as moments ago and it made you chuckle.

“I made that bet because I knew you would lose, but sure.” It was time things took a better turn in your life and maybe Vernon was the starting point.

155 notes · View notes

wheremytwinwatches · 4 years ago

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 36

Last time: Sloth wished he had a jacket or something, our heroes found the Goth’s illegal mining operation, and M.G. Armstrong was offered immortal soldiers. Onwards!

No intro again, we’re starting with oh it’s Beard. Alright buddy, what are you up to now? Reciting names? While undressing? Who are you talking to

oh um Well this is a thing.

So… after saying a bunch of names, Beard apologized that he had to “use” them, then jammed his fingers into his chest to pour some blood onto the ground, which then swirled around and went into the earth.

Beard’s not the Big Bad, is he? It’s Uncle.

Tephi is currently sniggering at me.

Crazy Theory In Light Of New Scene Time! *deep breath*

So all this time I’ve been ranting at Beard for being the Big Bad, but what I’m guessing now is a Frankenstein situation; Beard got caught up in his research trying to expand Alchemy and create a Homunculi (with the Philosopher’s Stone? Without?), created Uncle who then decided that he was a superior being to mere humans and went on to create the Goths. Beard goes into hiding/on his endless fishing trip, is he trying to stop Uncle or has given it up as a lost cause? He also appears to have the same Philosopher’s Stone blood that Uncle has, experimenting on himself before making Uncle? Who knows! Still don’t forgive him for abandoning his family, even if he has some excuse like “I did it to protect you from the Goths.”, because we can see how well that worked out.

In any case, I think I understand all the blocks of spoiler text now, if he actually is a good guy then I apologiz- no actually I don’t apologize, dude is still sketchy as hell and abandoned his wife and kids. He’s still got a long way to go before he makes a Homura recovery on my List.

Episode 36 - “Family Portrait”

This looks like it’ll be another Beard episode like Interlude Party (which I just went back to re-read my post and I’m cringing at my anti-Beard rants), but with The Reveal I think I’d be ok with getting some more info on this guy. Just as long as we can get back to M.G. Armstrong catfishing Raven soon.

Yup, flashback episode. Baby!Ed and Baby!Al are sleeping, Beard by their bedside. Mama Elric says he can hug them if he wants, but Beard doesn’t want “the monster” to spread. So he already has his Philosopher’s Blood at this point?

[Mama Elric]: “Please. If it could spread that way, don’t you think I would have caught it a long time ago?”

I did not know I needed sassy Mama Elric until I got it but now I have a mighty need

The standard Creepy Tinkly Piano Music starts up as Beard

[Beard]: “Since I got this body-”

?! No no, I can’t stop and rewrite all my theories every other sentence or we’ll be here all night.

Beard is saying that ever since he got this body he’s seen a lot of death, tried to pass it off as the natural flow of the universe. He’s seen a lot of new things flourish over his life, accepted his body and kept on living. But then he met Mama Elric and created two sons oh ok I can see where this is going. Easy to accept death when it happens to Others, but to your Own?

...or not since he just compares himself to his aging sons, calls himself a monster. Damnit man I was giving you a noble backstory stop messing up my theories

Later, Mama Elric summons Beard from his Lair/Lab to surprise him with a photographer! Oh I get it, they’re getting that family picture (title drop-ish) that Beard took with him when he stopped by Resembool. Mama Elric passes Beard Baby!Ed, and good Leto man you’ve been a father for how many years? Not wanting to disturb them while they were sleeping was one thing but you’re acting like someone handed you another child, surely you’ve had some practice and carrying your own sons.

The Elrics pose while the photographer takes oh never mind Mama Elrics giving her ��we’re taking this picture for the memories” speech even though he just asked for everyone to stand still. This is an old-timey camera lady, if you keep talking it’ll end up with everyone else ok but you with a great big blur where your mouth is.

[Mama Elric]: “He’s taking it. Smile, dear.” [Beard]: *Complete opposite of a smile*

Aw. Ok, I can understand why they crop out his head in that picture all the time now, that’s just depressing.

Huh. So that’s Beard’s motivation, then. He’s decided that immortality isn’t worth watching his loved ones age and die around him, so he’s of course researching a way to make them immortal as well nope he just wants to reverse his immortality so he can age and die with them. Ehhhhhhh ok whatever we aren’t getting back into the “is immortality good or bad” thing seeing as the only in-universe way is Stupidly Evil, let’s just focus on going back to Plain Old Human.

[Beard]: “That bastard…”

Are you talking about Uncle? Truth? Because I swear if this show goes and pulls out another Big Bad “for real this time you guys” I’m going to scream.

Aw, Beard’s fixing up the tree swing, we get an amusing moment where he falls down that let’s be real is only amusing because it’s A)in an anime so Physical Comedy is the rule, and B)he’s at least a semi-Goth so physical injuries are just a nuisance. Mama Elric comes out to check on him, and he gives the inevitable reveal that he’s going Absent Anime Father. Mama Elric is… surprisingly chill about this.

Beard’s trying to sneak out while the kids are asleep, but we know how that worked out. Mama Elric goes to distract them as Beard frowns (upset that his secret plan to sneak out secretly and avoid Familial Interaction failed?), then sees Baby!Ed looking up at him.

Way back in Episode 12

Flashback! Mama and Papa Elric are standing at the door, Baby!Ed and Baby!Al happened to be up early in the morning. Mama’s of course all over her children, but Papa Elric… just glares down at Ed, that’s the only description I can use for that look. Then he turns without a word, and walks out the door.

Context!

With both of his sons looking at him, Beard’s self-composure wavers ever slightly before he regains his glare and turns away.

Hey, it’s the campfire from the intro! Beard is looking at the family picture, before looking up to the night sky. “Just a little while longer…”

Whoa, all that was just before the intro?!

Oh come on! I was getting invested in more Beard Backstory, it’s almost a letdown to go back to Fort Briggs. Almost.

A bunch of Briggs soldiers are scouting the Goth Tunnel, seems their radio’s dead. Interference by the Military? The CO says they’ll keep going to find where all the rubble got dumped, but his horse shies and the ominous flutes start up. Who else is down there?

Black Shadows! Eyes! Teeth! Impalement!

Run Smith, run! Flee the Gate of Truth never mind he wasn’t fast enough. Sorry dude.

Ed’s listening to Raven’s “immortal soldiers” offer, and M.G. Armstrong’s baaaarely restraining herself from killing this old creep who’s all up in her personal space. She asks if the whole immortality thing would be for all her troops as well as herself, Raven says he can tell her “later”. So now she has to choose between accepting his offer and assisting his plans for Briggs (which could go very badly for the troops she commands), or refusing and getting pushed aside like General Grumman.

Before she can say anything, a mook’s knocking at the door to report that “something” has happened to the underground tunnel team- whoops, Raven overheard and is inviting himself along to go see. The eavesdroppers head out as well, after Ed Transmutes up some rope to “make it look convincing”. Right they’re still prisoners.

Whew, good thing they got the rope, they’ve run into Sideburns showing Kimblee around the fort. Ed recognizes The Crimson Alchemist, and oh yeah they’ve never actually met before, so Kimblee makes the mistake of thinking The Fullmetal Alchemist is the giant suit of armor instead of the pipsqueak everyone’s pointing to.

[irate!Ed]: “If one more person makes that mistake…”

Down in the pipe room, M.G. Armstrong’s getting the report of lost contact, aside from Smith’s horse with what they assume is his arm (man, arms just do not stay on people’s bodies in this show, do they?). M.G. Armstrong orders a rescue tea- nope shut down by Raven who claims the tunnel is too dangerous. Now, about that immortal monster she was talking about earlier?

Wow. General is straight up ordering M.G. Armstrong to grab the monster they put on ice, put him back in the tunnel and seal it up behind him. Obviously the nearby flunky balks at burying any possible survivors in the tunnel, but Raven just paraphrases the Law of the North about obeying strength and power. Now, is M.G. Armstrong going to refuse an order from her superior officer?

Mid-ep pictures of Crazy Grin Raven and steadfast Olivier Mira Armstrong.

Raven’s visiting the Elric Brothers in their cell, happy to see that they’ve been “keeping their mouths shut”. Ed’s just a little annoyed to have his friends held hostage and be locked up, but the ever-helpful General assures them that they can go soon. He then assures the boys that they don’t need to worry about the tunnel, M.G. Armstrong’s being a good little soldier and following orders.

Something that her own troops seem to be having a little trouble with now, the flunky from earlier is arguing with M.G. Armstrong about the lost team until she snaps at him to be quiet and obey. Kimblee’s watching everything from the walkways and snarks that even “The Impregnable Wall Of Briggs” bows to authority. Here’s hoping she proves you wrong soon.

Hey Sloth, how was your nap? Raven tells him to wake up and get back to work, apparently Pride explained it to him already. Now with his orders to get back to, Sloth returns to digging while Raven spouts some drivel about Sloth being a “chimera” working for Central, and since it was a top-secret mission they had to cover the hole and guard it.

[Raven]: “I’m counting on you soldiers! It’s people like you who make this country what it is!”

...wow. Ok, I’m pretty sure that M.G. Armstrong knows that the offer of immortality is intended to be at the cost of her own troops now. Way to eff things up Raven. Now if you had couched it as harvesting Drachmans to empower herself and her troops it might have been different.

Hey Marcoh, hey May! Still going over the notes?... wait, how long have you been at that hut? What have you been eating? Anyways, Marcoh says the important parts of the book are written in Ancient Ishvalan, which he can’t make heads or tails of. If only they had an Ishvalan Monk who could translate. Yeah, where is Scar?

Ooooh shoot. The Briggs snowtroopers have found the girl with the weird cat now, they draw their guns and move in when suddenly Scar! Man, good timing. Meeting up with the Doctor and the Princess, Scar confirms that they have the notes and says it’s time to move NOW HOLD ON. Did you really just take those two soldiers’ uniforms and leave them in the snow? Dude, not cool! At least move them into the hut so they don’t freeze to death.

Uh, timeskip apparently. Raven and M.G. Armstrong are overseeing the sealing of the tunnel, Raven’s confirming that the “weak” will be sacrificed to make the chosen few immortal. Man, Raven just has no redeeming qualities beyond that beard, does he? He’s just cheerfully talking about how the weak will be the foundation for the strong, completely missing the Death Glare that M.G. Armstrong’s leveling at him.

Sideburns is still having to babysit Kimblee, takes a moment to ask how the punk he was threatening in a hospital just a few days ago healed so quickly, let alone how a convicted murderer of officers got to walk free. Kimblee’s not exactly forthcoming.

Raven’s still cheerfully going on about how the country was founded with the plan to Mass Sacrifice its population, and how his generation gets to reap the rewards. He clasps her shoulder and damnit stop being a creeper you traitor-

[M.G. Armstrong]: “Hmph. There’s no need.”

Wait is she HELL YES

Screw you, you old coward! Just stand there with her sword through your arm as you feebly protest about her being a “chosen one”.

[M.G. Armstrong]: “I don’t need a new seat from you. You’re going to lose the one your moldy ass has clung to for too long! Right about now, Raven! You old TRAITOR!”

Oh hey, how convenient that there’s a fresh pool of concrete for that jerk’s corpse to be hidden in.

[Armstrong the Great]: “General, you are among the weak who will become the foundation for this country. Literally.”

Ha. Now we can get to work! Get some gloves free of traitor’s blood, find Sideburns and the other unwanted guest, and get that concrete nice and level.

Oh my Leto shut up Kimblee, stop trying to antagonize Sideburns with taunts about Ishval. Just as he starts to snap back Sideburns is called aside to hear that he doesn’t have to distract Kimblee anymore. He goes back and claims that “nobody can find General Raven”, so Kimblee… uh oh. Kimblee’s got standing orders to act as he sees fit if Raven’s not around, so they probably should give him a car to leave the fort. After all, one disappearance can be put down as bad luck. Both Raven and Kimblee? They can’t show their hand so soon.

Aw, the flunky who argued for the rescue mission is still pleading with Armstrong the Great to check the tunnel before it’s sealed. Ooh, but Ed made a second door earlier! That… may not have been such a good idea, I know that these guys haven’t seen what killed the tunnel team but still.

The mechanic stops by the Elrics’ cell to say Raven’s taking a concrete nap, then walks off. Wait, you’re still leaving those two in jail? Raven’s dead and Kimblee’s leaving, you don’t need to keep up the prisoner facade! Damnit, let the protagonists out to do their job!

Awww, hell. Kimblee’s shown up, wants to talk with the Fullmetal Alchemist. Fine whatever, just… what do you mean, “a visitor”?

CRAP. Winry! Or, is that Envy in disguise? Nah, probably Winry given how she’s yelling about Ed not getting his automail adjusted before going north. Someone from the military contacted her?

...Kimblee get your hands off her shoulders right now.

Damnit. Right as we get Armstrong the Great acting against the Military in defiance of the immortality temptation, we’ve got the Goth’s attack dog reminding them of the hostages. This is-

The end of the episode? Really? Wow, ok then. This one seemed like we got a short story on Beard (that just raised

so many new questions

) and a partial arc with Fort Briggs. What’s gonna happen next?

Wait hold on, this is one of those post-credit scene episodes. Roy’s meeting with one of the bar girls who’s reporting on Kimblee’s rapid recovery after Raven showed up. After paying her for the info a passing flower merchant teases him about just getting a “nice seeing you”... before saying she has a message from Armstrong the Great.

[Roy]: “I’ll take every flower you have in that cart.”

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 36

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sympathyfortheblinderdevil · 6 years ago

Text

Diversion: Ch.5

Other chapters may be found on my Masterlist, since Tumblr doesn’t like links.

Esme begins to deal with the fallout of John's discovery. There are some adult themes in this chapter. Adults have some adult thoughts. It's all very grown up.

Polly placed a phone call to Tommy and insisted that he return immediately to deal with John. “He’s gone wild Tommy. I don’t know what he will do if he finds Esme before you can get to him.” There was silence on the crackling line for a beat, then Polly speculated, “I don’t know what he’ll do to you. Please be careful… I’ve never seen him like this.”

Tommy had. One time before the war, John had nearly killed a man for putting his hands on Martha. He had broken the man’s jaw so badly that he couldn’t take solid foods any longer. He would have blinded him too, had the cops not come in when they did. For all of John’s easy-going nature, he was not a man to be crossed. He could be every bit as vengeful as Tommy and as vicious as Arthur.

“Where is Esme?”

“She went out just before John stormed in. Said she felt sick and needed some air.” She almost divulged that Esme was with child, but something made her pull up short. “I sent Finn to look for her.”

“Alright. I’m on my way.”

As Polly hung up the phone Esme came back in. She froze in her tracks when she saw the state of the place. Horrified, she looked around at the mess that John had left in his wake. Her eyes widened when she saw blood, streaked and smeared across her desk while her things lay scattered on the floor. Her mouth opened to ask Polly what had happened but was cut off.

“You’d better make yourself scarce. John knows” It was bad enough that Polly knew, but the evidence of John’s reaction brought her to a new low. A combination of terror, dread, and shame made her want to sink into the Earth and disappear. John was not a man to be trifled with, and answering for her actions was a terrifying prospect.

“How? How did he find out?” Polly gestured toward the kitchen, “He overheard us. He’s destroyed the shop and he’s liable to do the same to you if he sees you before he calms down.”

Esme's eyes were fixed on the brownish red swath of dried blood painted across her desk as Polly spoke, her mind churning. “Is he hurt?”

“He cut his hand. Bled like a stuck pig. Are you listening to me?” Polly crossed the shop to where Esme stood, “He knows. It’s best that you go to stay at my house for the time being.” “We have to warn Tommy.” Her dark eyes darted back and forth between Polly’s. “I’ve already done that,” she answered curtly. “John was bound and determined that he was going to that Carleton woman’s estate to kill Tommy, but I convinced him that it was better to deal with family business here.” “Oh, God,” Esme whispered and covered her face with her hands. “There’s no time for that,” Polly stated. Her voice was firmer now, but not unkind. “You’ve made your bed, now you have to lie in it.”

In the abstract, she had wanted to punish John. She wanted him to feel the pain of betrayal that she had felt, but with some minor flirtation with a nobody, not his brother. This was meant to be a bit of harmless revenge, and it had somehow gone all wrong. How could she have known that a meaningless comment over breakfast would draw a reaction from Tommy, not John? That a fictional plot that was meant to pique her husband’s jealousy would end with her craving the longing gaze of Tommy’s eyes. She needed to figure out a way to stop the impending firestorm that would no doubt end with more Shelby blood being spilled.

“Please, Polly,” Esme gritted her teeth and struggled to fight the tears that Polly forbade her to shed, “have Tommy come to see me before he goes to John. I need to talk to him before they meet.” “And just why would you need to do that?” “I need to know what he plans to tell John. I need to know what to expect. Please, Polly. If you care for me and for my children at all!” Polly’s guilt over meddling with John and Esme’s marriage made her inclined her to give in to Esme’s pleas. Although Polly was aggravated with the transgressions that Esme had fallen into, she couldn’t bear to see her in this kind of torment. Against her better judgment she acquiesced.

“I’ll get word to him that you are at my house. He will have to pass that way before he reaches Small Heath.”

***

Tommy roared onto Polly’s street just after midday and parked in front of her house. He sat for a moment in the car, listening to the pinging of the cooling engine as he thought about what was to come. He’d done a lifetime worth of thinking in the hours that it took to drive from May’s place to the outskirts of Birmingham. He had formulated a plan that would stem the coming tide of chaos and save Shelby Company Limited from imploding, but he had no way to mend the hearts that would be broken by the carelessness of his actions.

He never should have let his sympathy for her cross the line. He should have taken the matter up with John, kept him in charge of the shop and close to Esme’s side throughout the workday. He thought of a hundred ways that he could have helped her cause besides becoming her confidante and allowing their friendship to become more intimate. He had used his good sense to stay clear of her in the past after all of her talk about getting lost had first lit the fire of passion for her within him. He should have kept his distance.

Countless times had he fantasized about running his hands through her tangled hair, pulling her face to his, and tasting her pouty lips. He had imagined how the warm curve of her spine would feel against the span of his hands as he pressed her body into his. His eyes slid shut and he inhaled sharply at the image of her creamy skin, her pink nipples, the dark patch of hair at the apex of her spreading thighs. Her back would arch and her eyes would close as she whispered his name, Tommy…And he would touch her like she’d never been touched. He would make her body sing, he would worship her, God, he would love her…

His eyes snapped open, burning with fire, and he struck the steering wheel with his fist over and over. “FUCK!” he roared and tore his hat from his head, slinging it into the passenger side of the car. His chest heaved with every breath, and he scrubbed at his face with his hands. The prospect of facing her alone, of confronting and naming the very thing that they had been dancing around, was causing his unraveling. If he had learned anything in the world that he inhabited, it was that things could rarely be divided neatly into categories of right and wrong. There were always shades of gray— a little sinner in every saint. This, however, was not one of those occasions. This thing with Esme would end today. He had survived the trenches in France, he told himself, and so he could survive an infatuation with his brother’s wife. He slicked his hair back and replaced his hat, and in doing so, he returned to himself.

She was at the door before he knocked, and quickly opened it to let him in. A red silk scarf held her hair away from her face, which only accentuated the wide open, hunted look in her eyes. Although he tried to hold the practiced neutral expression that he had cultivated over years of handling dangerous situations, he could not keep up his façade when he saw her.

“Tommy, what are we going to do?”

She fell into his arms and her shoulders began to quake with her sobbing. He stood like a stone, swallowing hard and flexing his jaw muscles in an attempt to hold to his resolve. Images of his fantasies about her flashed through his head. He simultaneously wanted to tear her dress off and have her on the rug of his aunt’s parlor and push her away to save himself. He pushed his urges down deep into his psyche and patted her on the back in a comforting manner. She separated from him, sniffing and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. He offered her a white handkerchief which was soon smudged with black kohl.

“We are going to do the only thing that we can. What we should have done months ago.” He kept his voice even. With fluid movements, he drew his cigarettes case and matches out of his pocket and lit one. He offered it to her, and when she declined he flicked the case shut and eased it back into his pocket. He was amazed that his hands were not shaking.

She turned from him and walked to a table which held cut glass decanters of whiskey, rum, and gin on a silver tray. There were leaded crystal glasses neatly arranged on a shelf behind it, and Esme lingered there, pouring drinks for Tommy and herself. For, as long as she focused on the drinks, she could put off facing what Tommy was saying to her.

“Esme,” his voice caressed her ears, “you know what we have to do. We can’t allow this to go any farther. Even though we haven’t used our bodies to betray John, the way we feel isn’t right.”

She turned to hand him a glass of Irish whiskey and spoke, “Don’t say his name to me and talk about what’s right. Has he done what’s right by me? You and I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Hmmm,” He nodded his head and took a drink, “You’re talking to me, now. Not Polly. There’s no need to sugarcoat what has been happening.”

“But we haven’t…”

“In our hearts, and in our dreams, we have.” Tommy’s nostrils flared slightly, and his eyes roamed her face, her neck, and the bit of collarbone exposed by her dress. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth to wet it and seeing this Esme felt heat flush her face and chest. “You know we have.”

He was right. In the months that he had stayed away, while she was trying to conceive a baby with John, she would find herself imagining that it was Tommy whose body strained above her, that the velvety shaved head she caressed belonged to Tommy, and most shamefully of all, that Tommy’s cock was stretching her wide and making her come undone.

“Even now, Tommy continued, “with John thinking the worst and looking for both of us we are still drawn to each other.

She was weak in the knees from the thoughts running through her head. She sat down and immediately regretted doing so because the pressure of the chair only made the throbbing between her legs worse. “How do we stop?” she sighed.

He looked away. “I don’t know. I could go away, to London perhaps.”

Esme stared at Tommy, willing him to look her way. If what she was about to say didn’t sever his feelings for her, then nothing would, and they were doomed.

“Maybe it will be easier for us to forget all of this when the baby comes.”

Tommy turned her way. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, then closed.

Esme had gotten pregnant to stop her from wanting Tommy. She thought that some primal urge would kick in and make her fiercely loyal to John, but it hadn’t, not yet. She needed help. Nature had betrayed her. She prayed that Tommy would do what was right, because she didn’t know if she could.

Her words pulled everything painfully into focus, and he knew what he had to do. He swallowed thickly “You are goin’ to go home to your husband and forget that any of this happened.” He swallowed again and cleared his throat, his voice cracking as he tried to push the words past his lips, “because if you don’t....” “Because if I don’t, you’ll what? Cut me from this family?” She laughed through tears. “No, love.” A weary smile tugged at his lips, but his eyes grew misty at the memory. He had to look away from her to muster up the strength to finish. “If you don’t, it will tear this family, and all that we’ve worked so hard to build, apart.” He drew a shaky breath, “All of our schemes and plans, all of the things we’ve dreamt of for our children...gone. We can’t survive something like this. And what we want,” he sniffed, and again he cleared his throat, “what we want doesn’t matter.”

She knew that he was right, but that knowledge did little to quell the bitterness in her heart. It wasn’t fair that her husband could lie with impunity about where he spent his nights, but she was denied a little bit of comfort that she had found in the world. She had never gone to bed with Thomas. She’d only kissed him one time, and their physical contact had been fleeting. With all her soul she wanted to be lost in his arms, just once.

She was already paying for sins she hadn’t committed, and this would likely be the last time she ever saw Tommy alone, so she made a decision. She rose from her chair and walked to where Tommy stood. He kept his eyes from her, instead, he looked at the wall beyond. She took the whiskey from his hand and stood inches from him as she drained the glass. He kept his hands at his sides, not daring to move, but his eyes slid closed. Esme placed her hands on his shoulders and breathed his name. When he opened his eyes she spoke.

“You have made me feel worthy of love, Tommy. With just a look, a word, a touch, you have given me back what he took away. You, Tommy. Not some punter from the shop, not some bloke from the Garrison, but you. It may be wrong, what we feel, but there has to be some good in a person who sews love in a deserted heart.”

Tommy’s will fell away from him and he slid his arms around her waist. He pushed the outside world from his mind. His whole existence at that moment was the warmth of her touch and the smell of her skin. She tilted her head up as he drew her closer, every part of him pressing insistently against every part of her. The room became impossibly quiet as his mouth found hers, and she melted into his body. Her lips parted for him, and he slid his tongue over hers, hungrily drinking her in. Her hands roamed under his jacket and caressed his back. The feeling was so exquisite that he could die in her arms and be satisfied.

It was she who pulled away, and he sighed at the loss of contact.

She studied him. Lost in the lines of his face, his cheekbones, his jawline, and his pale blue eyes, she could see his resemblance to John and to her son. She imagined that the new baby would be blessed with the Shelby good looks as well. She took another step back and ran her hands over her stomach. She had to let him go.

OMG! Next up, Tommy will have to reckon with John’s thirst for revenge!

Let me know what y’all think.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #tommy x esme #john x esme #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders fan fiction

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moviestorian · 6 years ago

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your tags in that 'demelza, queen of subtlety' gifsets are on point. There were so many moments in S2 where she was unnecessarily rude towards Elizabeth, even before Francis died; but that moment, and the one in 2x03 when everyone's celebrating and she's giving Elizabeth the stink eye. I don't understand why everyone loves that when she was being weirdly passive aggressive for no reason. Even after Francis died, I understand her frustration. But Elizabeth isn't solely to blame. UGH.

Hi anon!

In case anyone’s wondering, this is a reference to the scene in Poldark 2x03, when Elizabeth is dancing with Francis, and Demelza gives her this look:

I feel like the thing you mentioned, anon, is very often being looked over, so I would like to discuss it in detail and this is totally going to get long, so in case you wouldn’t wish to read everything…

TLDR: I absolutely agree with everything you said.

Now, the longer reply, under the cut so that it won’t crash anybody’s dash.

There were so many moments in S2 where she was unnecessarily rude towards Elizabeth

Oh, definitely. For example the two scenes you mentioned: the harvest party and the ending scene in 2x04 when everyone’s raising a toast and she gives Elizabeth this look, for absolutely no reason:

And Elizabeth’s smile is immediately fading, because she clearly did notice that look:

And when Francis says something immediately afterwards, Demelza still has this expression on her face:

Very friendly, right? And what did Elizabeth do to deserve that look at this particular moment? Literally nothing - she didn’t even say a word (other than raising a toast, like every other character did in this scene) and wasn’t looking at Ross. She was only standing alongside her husband and her little son, and was actually smiling in Demelza’s direction. Demelza let her suspicions and jealousy to take over, so she starts seeing a threat in Elizabeth even when she has no reasons to be jealous.

Now, let’s come back to 2x03 and the harvest party scene. Why is she looking at Elizabeth with this snarky smile on her face? Right, because Ross is looking longinly at ‘the love of his life’ (sarcasm) from a distance, avoiding the company of his wife. Or actually wait, the order of smirks in this scene is as such:

Francis asks Elizabeth for a dance and she gladly agrees, and she looks at FRANCIS (not Ross)like this:

To which Demelza stares at her like:

As they continue dancing, Elizabeth doesn’t even look at Ross. Her attention is all on Francis:

But obviously Ross is staring from the distance like this:

As he briefly looks at his wife, she (rightfully)directs her grim at him, but then looks at Elizabeth again and finally into completely another direction, and later joins the dance.

Ross started giving Elizabeth the longing look even before, and we as viewers certainly see that, but it’s not clear whether Demelza did, before the dancing scene. And every time I watch this scene I can’t help the impression that she makes this face not only because she is jealous about Ross, but also because Elizabeth leads a happier life in this particular moment.

Both of these scenes never fail to amaze me, for two reasons. First of all, that fandom always seem to take Demelza’s side, not even caring to get into Elizabeth’s shoes. And when it comes to the narrative itself, I find it unbelievable that Demelza STILL directs her jealousy at Elizabeth more than she does at Ross in the exact same episode in which she had such a conversation with Elizabeth:

D: He don’t wish for another [child]. Since Julia he haven’t the heart for it.

E: And we’re to blame.

D: It is not my belief.

E: It’s good of you to say so, but the fact that there’s still discord between our families…

D: There is. And I think it will not be lightly set aside. By Ross at least.

Demelza perfectly knows that Elizabeth wants their families to reconcile, and that it’s Ross who keeps being stubborn and even straight up admits that it’s Ross who doesn’t want to make certain things right. She knows Elizabeth is, at this point, quite happy with Francis and wants to be in good terms with Ross and Demelza. She expressed in this conversation, and she is the one to invite the Nampara P*ldarks to the harvest. Elizabeth even says to Demelza “Thank you for bringing him”, and it was not, as far as I’m concerned, meant like “Thank you for bringing him so I can flirt with him”. She said that because they both knew how hard was it to convince Ross to come, and Elizabeth knew it’s Demelza’s contribution that he did. And yet, Demelza gives her a jealous look when Elizabeth is dancing with Francis or earlier, when the two P*ldark families are greeting one another and Ross kisses Elizabeth’s hand…Which is merely a courtesy? And Francis kisses Demelza’s hand as well so following this logic Elizabeth also should be giving her a snarky look at this moment.

So basically Demelza says that the conflict will not be set aside because of Ross, but at the same time she’s literally building a wall between herself and Elizabeth, who’s trying to be polite - she was having a conversation with Demelza before her mother interrupted them, and was clearly displeased with Mrs Chynoweth’s comment about scullery maids. And yet in the next episode Demelza’s attitude towards Elizabeth became only more tense, which means more snarky smiles and looks. Sounds like a hypocrisy to me.

One could say: but Demelza had tons of reasons to feel jealous about Elizabeth, and her cold look in 2x04 is caused by the obvious flirting between Ross and his cousin’s wife she overheard in the previous episode. And yes, absolutely, Ross gave her tons of reasons to be jealous and was acting terribly to her for most of the time, but I don’t like the fact how she directs her suspicions at Elizabeth when she has literally no reasons to blame her and the only person she should be giving bitchy looks to is her own husband. And maybe…she could actually talk to Elizabeth and tell her about her fears? But nooo, it’s better for everyone to just allow yourself to be clouded by your suspicions. As for the post-party scene in which Ross clearly starts hitting on Elizabeth again, the problem is exactly that Demelza heard a huge part of it. So she hears Elizabeth saying things like:

That was long ago. And you’ve been more than happy since, with Demelza.

(…)

But you and I would never have been happy together. Our characters are too different. (…)

You should go to bed, Ross. Demelza will be thinking you’ve gone astray.

Everything Demelza hears from Elizabeth is far from flirting, on her side at least. She is not encouraging him, on the contrary - she reminds him about Demelza, twice. Ross and Elizabeth are alone in the room, and both had no idea Demelza is listening, so if Elizabeth intended to flirt with Ross, that would be the perfect moment. And yet she doesn’t, and Demelza, even despite having this knowledge, doesn’t change her attitude.

I don’t understand why everyone loves that when she was being weirdly passive aggressive for no reason.

Me neither. Both the show’s narrative and the fandom always make it look like Demelza is never wrong, which is deeply frustrating to me. I LOVE book Demelza and I adored her in season 1, she used to be my favourite P*ldark character, but since s2 my sympathy for her rapidly declined. There are just so many examples of her being unnecessarily rude/passive aggressive for no reason, not only towards Elizabeth, but mostly her. Which is such a shame, because we have some lovely interactions between the two as well, and I’m pretty sure they could be friends if not Ross’ behaviour… I’m not saying that everything Elizabeth does/says is pure and great (her comment about cornflowers in 1x03 is definitely not her best moment), but in many scenes she’s being sincere or at least trying to be kind/polite, and yet somehow the majority of the fandom turns it into her apparently being manipulative, so Demelza is totally right about being mean in return and it’s “feminist”. And they always make such a big deal of the scene in 2x07 when Elizabeth comes to Nampara and asks about her letter to Ross whereas I’m like…she didn’t do anything wrong tbh?

Even after Francis died, I understand her frustration.

Me too, Ross really wasn’t making it easier for his wife. I can totally see why Demelza didn’t like all his visit to Trenwith, but at the same time… She could go with him, right? I’m pretty sure Elizabeth, Agatha and Geoffrey Charles would appreciate their visits, and Demelza would be a lot calmer if she knew what was going on in Trenwith, instead of diving into the world of fantasies. And also, what she said to Elizabeth 2x08 was a straight up insult in return for Elizabeth trying to be polite again, if you ask me.

But Elizabeth isn’t solely to blame.

Absolutely. She shouldn’t have said that whole “cannot two men love two women” mini speech in 2x05, but in my opinion, for most of the time her interactions with Ross in s2 were not inappropriate on her part. And Demelza really should’ve known better, especially since she is a good-hearted woman and has lots of empathy. Many things could’ve been different if her attitude was different, but let’s not forget that it’s Ross who’s caused the entire problem/conflict. Too bad Demelza and Elizabeth’s relationship was so badly affected by his recklessness.

#answered #anonymous #wera speaks #long post #i'm not putting this in the tag i'm not a masochist #i know that the fandom won't like what i said here but oh well...here we go

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imjustthemechanic · 6 years ago

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Natalie Jones and the Golden Ship

Part 1/? - A Meeting at the Palace Part 2/? - Curry Talk

As long as everybody’s together, they decide to hang out a little. It goes pretty well, mostly.

Once they’d given Clint his badge, which appeared to delight him, and told him about their date with the mummy, the group decided they should take this opportunity to have lunch and spend some time together. Nat worried that there was no way six people would be able to agree on a restaurant, but Clint’s suggestion quickly carried the day.

“How about one of the Asian places in Whitechapel?” he asked.

“I could go for Indian food,” Natasha said. It wasn’t something she had very often.

“It’s not my own favourite,” Clint added, “but I asked Laura if she wanted me to bring her anything back from London, and she asked for some real curry spices from Brick Lane Market. The stuff you buy in bags from Tesco is no good at all.”

Allen grinned. “Well, if your pregnant wife wants curry, I say we go get her some curry!” His memories weren’t real, and he knew that, but Natasha also knew that they seemed real to him. It made her wonder what he remembered his wife Kathy craving when she was carrying Natasha.

So with their cars safely parked in the palace garages, they took the tube to Brick Lane, and ended up at City Spice, a well-lit Bangladeshi restaurant with red and white walls. It smelled wonderfully of ginger and onions, and they sat down at a round table to a meal of kebabs, naan bread, and vegetable bhaji.

“How are your studies going?” Allen asked Sir Stephen.

“Slowly,” Sir Stephen replied with a sigh. “History has always interested me and I’m having no trouble with that, but the quantity of mathematics people are expected to know is simply absurd! When will I ever need to calculate the hypotenuse of a triangle?”

“Probably never,” said Sam. “I don’t think I’ve done it since undergrad.”

At the same time as this conversation, Natasha was talking to Clint. “Do you know yet if the baby’s a boy or a girl?” she asked him.

“Hmm?” he asked, mouth full of naan. Clint was partially deaf, especially on the left, and if he wasn’t looking at somebody he often missed what that person was saying – even if he were wearing his hearing aids.

“The baby,” Nat repeated, a little louder. “Boy or girl?”

“Oh!” He chewed and swallowed. “It’s a boy! If it was a girl we were going to call her Natalie, so this one’s going to be Nathaniel.”

This was so unexpected that it actually took Nat a moment to realize what was surprising about it, and then a chill ran over her. “You’re naming him after me?” she asked, astonished. Nobody had ever made such a gesture towards her. She’d never even dreamed that anyone would do such a thing. It was the type of honour Natasha Romanov simply didn’t deserve.

Allen had overheard, and he was delighted. “Congratulations!” he said.

“You’re the one who was lying there grabbing at the Grail and shouting that we were all going to be okay,” Clint explained to Nat. “If anything got me my memory back outside of me just wanting it really badly, that was it.”

“Well, thank you,” said Nat uncomfortably. She felt like she really ought to say something else, but couldn’t imagine what it would be. What she wanted was to protest that she didn’t deserve it, and that this innocent unborn child deserved better than to be saddled with the name of someone who’d done far more harm in the world than good. That was no way to accept a compliment, though, so she just took a big bite of lamb off her kebab so she wouldn’t have to say anything more right away.”

“Are you two planning to have kids?” Clint asked, pointing from Sharon to Sir Stephen and then at Sharon again.

The two of them looked at each other, and Sir Stephen turned a bit red while Sharon burst out giggling at his embarrassment.

“We’re not yet married,” Sir Stephen protested.

“That doesn’t matter to some people,” Clint pointed out.

“I know! Marriage is not as sacred as it once was,” said Sir Stephen, “but I will hold it so.”

“He just doesn’t want to have to confess it to the priest every single week,” Sharon teased. “Anyway, I don’t know if I want to have children before I make Chief Inspector. When I was a girl everybody was always telling me I’d have babies someday, but nobody ever told me I’d be a detective.”

“She does enjoy doing the opposite of what people say,” Sir Stephen said affectionately. “Even myself.”

“Especially yourself.” Sharon poked him in the nose. “Anyway, Natalie – I wanted to ask earlier, but did the Egyptians actually put curses on their tombs? Or is that just an urban legend?”

Nat’s mouth was full, and she had to finish chewing before she could answer. She washed her bhaji down with a drink of water and said, “not really. At least, not any worse than Shakespeare’s.”

“Shakespeare’s tomb has a curse?” Allen was surprised.

“It sure does,” she said, and recited: “good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbeare, to digg the dust encloased heare. Blese be ye man yt spares thes stones, and curst be he yt moves my bones.”

Allen was startled. “Does it work?” he asked.

“I don’t know, nobody’s ever dug him up to check,” said Nat. “I think the Egyptians probably wrote some similar things on their tombs, although I’d have to look it up to be sure. I know there were a couple of accidents that happened to Howard Carter’s people when they opened the tomb of King Tut. On the other hand, archaeology was dangerous back then and they weren’t very careful, and Carter himself lived to be sixty-five, so I doubt there was anything to it. It just makes a good story.”

“So you’re trying to reassure us that the mummy won’t get up and start breaking necks,” said Sam.

Natasha shrugged. She wanted to say that no, it wouldn’t, that she didn’t believe in that sort of thing, and that perpetrating such stories made Egypt sound like a fairytale kingdom instead of a perfectly ordinary country with an impressive past and some very serious modern problems. And yet, after the Battle of the Tower, when the world had found itself confronted with the Holy Grail, the Loch Ness Monster, and a variety of other mythology come to life… she no longer felt qualified to say what was real and what wasn’t. She doubted anybody was.

“I certainly hope not,” she snorted. Making a joke out of it would hopefully help.

“If it does,” Sir Stephen mused, “how shall we stop it? We found the two witches to help us shake the goblin Zola. How does one break a mummy’s curse?”

“I imagine a flamethrower would do the trick,” said Nat.

Allen snickered for a moment, then stopped himself, unsure if she were joking or not.

A waiter stopped by to ask them how their meal was. They assured him it was great, and Clint took the opportunity to ask about the best place to buy spices. The waiter started to recommend some brands, but then Clint mentioned it was for his pregnant wife. Hearing that, the man pulled a page off his order pad and wrote the name and address of a shopkeeper on it, along with a guide to what it ask for and how to pronounce it.

“That’s where I went for mandaputtu when my wife was expecting our daughter,” he said, handing the page to Clint.

“Thanks,” said Clint. “Much appreciated.”

Clint was the first to bid the others namaste and leave the table, to get his shopping done before catching the train home. The others drifted away one by one, until there were only two left. One was Natasha, who wanted to finish up the shatkora Sharon had tried but decided she didn’t like. The other was Allen, who had ordered a beer and was drinking it slowly, so he’d still be able to drive home.

“So what’s been keeping you busy?” he asked Nat.

“The usual stuff,” she said. “I’m teaching two classes this term, and I’m working on a paper about how King William had to alter the original plans for the Tower of London to get the Grail in there. I’m not dating or anything, and I’m not doing field work, so I doubt it’s anything you’d be interested in.” Did he think her silence meant she was hiding something? She hoped not, because she really wasn’t. She didn’t answer his emails because there didn’t seem much to say.

“I am interested, though,” Allen said. “It doesn’t have to be anything world-shaking. All I do when I email is tell stories from work and things like that. I just like to hear from you.”

Nat shrugged again. “Do you? Or do you want to hear what your daughter would have said?”

“No. I want to hear from you,” said Allen. “I know you’re not the daughter I remember. I want to know who you are.” He wasn’t upset at all, just gently encouraging.

That was the problem, Natasha thought. She wasn’t used to letting people get to know her. She’d been trained to keep herself bottled up, to never get close to people lest they compromise her dedication to the task at hand. When she did communicate, it was essential information only. That was one thing her students remarked on when they did those professor evaluation surveys: she was very focused and sometimes had to be asked to slow down and give more detail. She wanted to treat Allen like her father, but it was hard.

“I don’t do it on purpose,” she said. “I just… I don’t know how to do that.” Even being that honest was uncomfortable for her.

“Then you should practice,” he said. “If you feel like you need something to talk about, why don’t you tell me about your life? Where you grew up, how you ended up here?”

He was trying to help, but he really wasn’t. “You wouldn’t want to hear it,” she said. “I told you, it’s not a nice story.”

What Natasha would have liked, actually, was to learn what he thought her life had been like. What memories did he have of her as a child, or of his wife? These things hadn’t really happened, and yet Nat was curious what forms they took in his memory. She’d never asked, though, and she didn’t plan to do so no matter how tempting it was. Whatever he told her would be a lie. Her truth would only hurt him, but his lies would make her miserable thinking of the life she could have had. She’d had enough lies.

“You told me an ugly truth is better than a beautiful lie,” said Allen.

She had said that. It had been on her mind at the time. “Sometimes it might be better to have neither,” Nat replied.

“Then what are we supposed to talk about?” Allen asked.

“I don’t think we have to talk at all,” said Nat. “Families don’t always talk to each other. We could do something together instead.” That seemed much easier, much better for not scaring anybody off or boring anybody to tears. “Why don’t we go to the Victoria and Albert Museum? I doubt we’ll get to look at the mummy while it’s being shipped, so let’s go see it while it’s still here.” She was curious about it anyway.

Allen didn’t look happy with that, but he nodded. “All right. Let me finish my drink.”

As they left the restaurant a few minutes later, Nat decided she owed Allen an apology. “I’m sorry, Dad,” she said. It still felt weird calling him that, but she was working on it, trying to force it to be natural. “I’m not used to this. I’m trying, I promise.”

“I believe you, Ginger Snap,” Allen said gently. “You can take all the time you need.”

#fanfic #steve rogers #natasha romanov #sharon carter #clint barton #sam wilson

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takeeachdayonebookatatime · 3 years ago

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Law and order svu. Fanfiction

Starring Olivia Benson and Brian Cassidy

True or false…..

Liv: pov I managed to get off of work early, Lucy was watching Noah for me since I was having dinner with Cassidy so we could catch up. I made it to the bar/restaurant in 20 minutes. Cassidy was not here yet, maybe he got held up at work. My phone started to ring so I answered it. It was Cassidy calling, saying he was stuck in traffic, some kind of accident up ahead he might be late. I could hear the police, firetruck and ambulance sounds in the background. He told me to just order drinks and food. I said I will wait till you are here to eat no problem. While sitting at the bar I overheard 2 guys talking the one guy said to his friend. Guess what Jenny Is pregnant the other guy said congratulations. The first guy said no it is not mine she slept with another guy then had the nerve to lie and tell me it was rape someone attacked her while I was not home yeah right like I would believe that. I might just have to divorce her. I can't stay married to a liar and a cheater. The second guy said I agree dump her sorry ass no way you can get pregnant from rape it is impossible. The first guy said it was so true must have been sex gone bad or she felt bad for cheating on him and getting pregnant. I so badly wanted to say something. I got lucky when he said you're a woman should I dump her for cheating. I said I would believe your wife. I'm a police captain. The guys were so shocked that I'm a police officer. They both asked to see my badge. So I showed them it. The first guy asked what svu stood for and I said, special victims unit, been doing it for over 23 years. They were still confused so I said sex crimes, domestic violence, child abuse and hate crimes. I told them that women actually do get pregnant from a rape. I am proof of it. I was a product of my mother's rape. I asked him if his wife wanted to keep the baby and he said he was not sure. I asked him if he thought about having kids with his wife and he said yes. I said to him you could probably make this relationship work, I hope you love her. He said yes. I told him you could always adopt the baby as your own and then have more children with her. It was not her fault, just remember that. You know what. Did she say anything else about the attack because I could look into it for her. Are you guys free tomorrow around 7 in the morning? He said yes. I talked with him a little bit more. I reassured him his wife did nothing wrong and she still loves you. It was probably very hard to tell you about it. Cassidy finally showed up. We ate some yummy tacos and talked for a while. He told me all about the accident in front of him that got him stuck in traffic. I told him why did you not tell me on the phone you were the one that pulled the guy out of his car before it caught fire. He said it's not something you mention over the phone. I did not tell him about talking to those 2 guys. With Cassidy's past as being a victim it would make him mad. He pulled up to my apartment and we got out of the car. And headed inside to watch a movie together. Noah chose Wall-E as the movie after he showered. Then I said goodbye to Cassidy. We made plans to hang out a few times a month just for fun as friends then he went home. In the morning I drove over to Dan's house to talk with him and his wife. She was surprised to see me. I told her I'm a police captain with the svu and I overheard Dan talking about you with his friend and offered to come over and look into it for him. She told me all about the attack and how she was unsure if she wanted to keep the baby. I told her it was her choice but I was a product of my mother's rape. And when I was little I heard her on the phone saying. How could I love something conceived in rape. My only advice is if you keep this baby because it is half yours you love this baby no matter what. She said the guy had a tattoo on his inner thigh. Looked like a spider web. The husband asked if he could help me look. I said we could try a few tattoo places before I head into work. We hit five tattoo places and got no leads. I told the husband you do not search for

this man on your own. I had 2 missed calls from fin asking if I was okay. I said yes I was talking to a victim and her husband. While I went to grab lunch I stopped at a tattoo place to see if this guy did any spider web tattoos on anyone. I got lucky he did and was nice enough to call the guy and told him to come over for a free tattoo. He knows the guy can't resist a free tattoo. Once the guy got here at the tattoo place I arrested him and took him to the station for questioning. Dan's wife picked him out of the line up. I managed to get him to confess to it. And off to jail he went. Pam was so happy we caught the guy I pulled Dan aside to have a conversation with him about ways to help Pam overcome this and what symptoms to look out for and handed him my business card. I can't believe how easy it was to close this case by myself. The end……..

#book #reader #read #reading #bookreviewer #betareaders #tvshows #lawandordersvu #fanfiction

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sanjuno · 7 years ago

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That's ok! How about the MCU, or just the Avengers if the MCU is too broad. -Lark

(Oh shit, I have opinions about the MCU and the Avengers, my friend. So I apologize if this offends but not really.)

6/7 GoT Crossover Fix-Its: An Assemblage of Fire and Ice.

Anthony Edward Stark’s life was a battle from beginning to end. He fought the world, he fought people who claimed to be his friends, he fought honest enemies, and he fought every challenge life and the universe at large threw at him as he went. He fought the Ten Rings and became Iron Man, he fought public opinion and became a hero, he fought obstinance and fear and became a man who stood for accountability. He fought Thanos, and became the man known for mastering the Infinity Stones. When Tony Stark finally died in a blaze of glory more than 20 years after Iron Man first burned his way free of a cave in the desert, he left behind a legacy that would last for ages.

Eddard Stark is born bright red and squalling in the middle of a snowstorm where the sun shone through the clouds to birth lightning. The contradictions only continued as the boy grew, Ned Stark was a calm, thoughtful child but was occasionally taken by wild frenzies. One moment reading peacefully, or training seriously in arms, the next shouting at the top of his lungs and running off to the forge to make a new type of steel, or designing an aqueduct system that wouldn’t freeze. Rickon Stark took to sighing whenever Ned’s voice started to echo. Lyarra Stark laughed, and told her husband their second son had Ice in his veins and Fire in his heart.

Tony was actually rather pleased with this version of the Stark family. Sure, sometimes Brandon was a bit too much like Morgan for comfort, and sometimes Lyanna reminded Tony of himself during the worst moments during his rebellious teen phase, but the Starks were all loyal to one another and Tony had 200 years of people managing skills. Nudging Brandon to be a bit more responsible, to respect the women he took to bed, that wasn’t hard. Coaching Lyanna on how to protect her own interests, showing his little sister how to compromise for a result everyone could live with, that was simple enough. Tony was used to corralling teenage (and adult) superheroes, asking a few honourable nobles to think about things rationally wasn’t exceptionally difficult. Ben was the easy one. Mostly Tony just had to talk him down from the extreme choice, and the youngest was usually pretty reasonable about listening to a logical argument.

In one version of the song Lyarra Stark dies birthing her third son, in this world young Ned has been asking questions of the Maester, the herbalists, the midwives, and anyone else with an ounce of teaching in the healing arts how things work, why things work, and what do you do when it doesn’t work. So the healers of Winterfell have been pushed and prodded and challenged to raise themselves up and their skills reflect that. Lyarra will never have another child, but she lives. She is weak, and bedridden for moons, but she lives. So Rickon Stark’s ambitions are gentled, and his children’s happiness has a greater sway over his thoughts.

Tony is pleased and so, so grateful that his mother survived. The leading cause of death for women in pre-industrial societies is childbirth, and Tony was never the kind of doctor who could heal. Fix and augment, yes, but surgery and birth complications were out of his league. Thankfully he already knew what questions to ask in order to get the healers in Winterfell thinking and making improvements on their skills. All the women in the North would benefit, and eventually the new studies and knowledge would spread further than just the Northern Kingdom.

The Stark children are fostered out, of course. Still themselves but still slightly different. Ned and Robert make fast friends, but the Quiet Wolf is not the retiring second son he was in the first version of the song. When Mya Stone is born Ned shames Robert into taking proper responsibility. Robert’s daughter and the girl’s mother are dowered and set up to be able to live comfortably, and Robert is given a scathing lecture on consent and respect. “You don’t have to abstain,” Ned says, “but if a child results from it you need to step up and be their father.” So Robert, being Robert and thus allergic to responsibility, starts carrying a pouch of Moon Tea in his purse.

The Tourney at Harennhal happens, and Lyanna once again saves Howland Reed. Once again, the Knight of the Laughing Tree bids the unruly Squires to learn respect. Once again, the Mad King sees assassins everywhere and the Silver Prince comes across a young Lady in the Godswood. Only it’s different as well, because none of the Stark children are betrothed. Rickon Stark made the announcement when his Heir turned 16 that his sons would seek their own spouses for his approval when they came of age, and any who wished to court his daughter could submit their suit for approval when Lyanna’s own 16th age day came. So Lyanna is not desperate to escape an unwanted betrothal, and there is nothing gentling the public dishonour of Rhaegar’s attentions when he wins the joust. There is nothing romantic about a grown man betraying his wife for a girl not yet of age.

Tony wants to rage, wants to kill the Prince very, very badly when he sees how scared his little sister is. When the crown of blue roses lands in her lap, Lyanna Stark does what she’s always done when she doesn’t understand something. She turns to her middle brother and begs him to fix things. Tony knows exactly where this is going, if the Prince thinks he can bully his way through all the moral arguments saying his attention is unwanted. So Tony holds out his hand to Lyanna, and she brightens, putting the flower crown in his hands, and Tony promptly puts it on his own head. He meets the Prince’s eyes, and lets Rhaegar Targaryen see the Merchant of Death usually hidden behind the public persona of the Quiet Wolf. The Prince does not get to coerce Tony’s baby sister into any sort of relationship against her will.

Just as the Prince publicly shamed his wife, the girl he chose shames him in turn. Ellia and Aerys are, for the first time ever, amused by the same thing. Ned Stark wears the Crown of Love and Beauty for the rest of the Tourney. It gets him many, many dances from the Ladies in attendance during the feasts. Rhaegar, for all he was trying to quietly gather support to supplant his father, realizes somewhat belatedly that he just screwed himself out of support from Dorne and the North. The Northern camp closes ranks, especially around the women. From Lyanna Stark down to the common maids, none of the Northern women go anywhere without an escort.

Jaime Lannister still joins the Kingsguard, Cersei’s scheming fuelled by the proof that Rhaegar is loosing interest in his wife now that Elia is known to be barren. The younger son of a Dornish Lordship, Jaime Fowler, has blood from the Summer Islands and finds Ned Stark with the comment that he “must be made of Iron to mock the Prince this way.” And Tony replies with “it’s gold-titanium alloy, actually.” Rhodey just shakes his head, happy to have found his best friend again. Lysa Tully, who had overheard, tells them “I’ve caught you doing worse. Will this be all, Mr. Stark?” Pepper was just so very done with these shenanigans. The things Tony drags them into, honestly.

When the Tourney ends, Ned Stark goes to take over Moat Cailin, which he has been granted permission to restore. Accompanying him is his betrothed, Lysa Tully, and a Dornishman who is rumoured to share their bed. The South (minus Dorne) is scandalized. The North, well used to the Quiet Wolf’s particularities, just shrugs and moves on.

Rhaegar Targaryen is a man obsessed by prophecy, and few realize that he is just as mad as his father. Rhaegar is mad in the quiet, subtle way men go mad when they are left alone for too long with only their own thoughts for company. Lyanna Stark amuses King Aerys, and when the Pact of Ice and Fire is brought up he sees it as a perfect way to torment Rhaegar for overstepping, slight Elia for not being a real Targaryen, and punish Lyanna for thinking that she can refuse a dragon. Aerys announces that Rhaegar will take a second wife that is capable of bearing children, and that he has selected Lyanna Stark for the role.

There is not a single Great House in Westros who are not being insulted by this move. Lyanna is terrified, because she had grown up expecting to be courted by her future husband and even then not until she was 16. Lyanna, in this version of the song, was supposed to have a say in her choice of husband. Her wolf blood is howling, wanting nothing more than to rip and tear and devour. Once again, it’s Ned who steps in to fix things. It’s Ned, drawing on Tony’s many years of experience who talks her down from running away. It’s Ned, aching over the sacrifice his sister is being asked to make, who reminds her that their people will suffer if Lyanna makes a choice that will lead to war. It’s Ned, standing alone with his sister in the Wolfwood, who speaks quietly about allies, and secret wars, and that Elia’s brother is the Red Viper. Aegon was all but guaranteed to be free of Targaryen madness, given that he was only half. 16 years was not so long to wait for vengeance.

A Second Hour of the Wolf was now Lyanna Stark’s goal. (Not Targaryen. Never Targaryen. She would only ever be a Stark in her heart.) The Stark siblings spend the night a seething Rickon sends his formally, frigidly polite acceptance of the betrothal to the Red Keep in the Godswood, praying to the Old Gods for a sign. (Tony still doesn’t like magic, but he’s old enough to know it exists. There’s no other explanation for how Extremis still lights up his skin in Arc Reactor blue when things get tough.) They leave the Godswood with a pack of Direwolves loping at their sides. A pack, because while Brandon, Lyanna, and Ben each have a single wolf, Ned has 7. Also they beg Ned to let his wife name their children because by the Old Gods, Ned is bad at choosing names for things.

Tony ignores them. He has his babies back. Dummy, You, and Butterfingers are as playful as ever. Jarvis is even more long-suffering, Friday is mischievous, Jocasta is sassy, and Ultron, his poor wayward son, is free of the corruption in his programming caused by the Sceptre. The warg thing is a bit of a surprise, because his siblings can all do it without the assistance of Extremis, but Tony rolls with it and teaches them what he knows about communicating mind to mind. Greensight is like a wireless connection, which took a while to figure out. Tony is so relived to be able to share his secrets with his siblings at last. For the first time, Tony lets his siblings watch him work in the forge, and their eyes are very wide as the blue-and-gold glow shines under his skin and sparks in the runes carved into the armour plate and blades he forges for each of them.

“Magic is terrifying,” Ned tells his siblings, “and I never wanted you to fear me. But you all have magic of your own, and you need to learn how to use it. If things are waking up, if the Targaryens want the North in truth instead of just in name, then we need to be ready.” So Ned shows them how to work the runes, how to connect to their wolves and to the other animals around them, how the send their Greensight through the trees. They only have a year, because Rickon was only able to negotiate a delay until Lyanna turned 16, hoping that the Mad King would change his mind in the interim. Unfortunately, the raven demanding Lyanna come to King’s Landing for her wedding to Rhaegar comes within a moon of her 16th nameday.

Rickon and Lyarra Stark remain in the Northin subtle protest, but all their children go South. The smallfolk gathered along the streets in King’s Landing hoping to see the heathen wildling Princess from the savage North do not dare jeer. The Starks ride atop the backs of massive wolves, each one as large as a horse. Their armour gleams like ice in the light, and their fur mantels make them look natural among the wild beasts they command. The eyes of the welcoming party in the Red Keep are very wide, and Rhaegar looks like he’s regretting all his life choices.

Lyanna Stark’s smile is a snarl, teeth bared and sharp as blizzard winds. She all but ignores Rhaegar entirely and instead puts considerable effort into charming Elia. (Tony had long suspected that his sister preferred her own gender over men, and thankfully Elia was Dornish enough to be flattered by the attention. The fact that it irritated Rhaegar to see his wives seek out each other instead of him was just extra entertainment.)

Thanks to greensight and warging, the Starks all remain in close contact that no one else knows about. Benjen moves further North when he comes of age and takes over both Gifts with the intention of supporting the Watch. He doesn’t join them, because he feels the need to pass on the Stark Magic that’s in his blood and that requires a wife, but he still serves the Wall in his own best way. Brandon takes on his duties as the Heir to Winferfell, travelling around the North to meet all their Bannerman. Ned rebuilds Moat Cailin even grander than before, and moves on to restructuring the trade routes and methods in the North. Lyanna drives Rhaegar insane with passive aggressive undermining of his schemes. Luckily, Aerys is entertained by Lyanna enough to be distracted from his usual pastimes.

Following Ned’s advice, Lyanna goes to Rhaegar every night for a fortnight one week after her moonblood comes, and is pleased a moon later when the Maester tells her she’s pregnant. (”Treat him as he thinks to treat you.” Ned had said. “He thinks to make you a broodmare for his seed? Nay, instead let him be the stud you use to get your own children, sweet sister, and go to him only when you wish to make use of that service.”) Lyanna is quite pleased to be able to tell Rhaegar that he’s served his purpose for now and she has no more use for him until after the babe is weaned. So she’ll call for him again in about two years. (Elia loves her sister-wife, you have no godly idea how much Elia loves her sister-wife.)

Brandon Stark marries Ashara Dayne, and even if she’s not of the North the Bannerman are content with her having the Blood of the First Men in her veins. Benjen Stark manages to seduce a Wildling Chieftess into marriage on a trip North of the Wall and her tribe agrees to serve him in return for being allowed to settle South of the Wall. Ned Stark has a brood of children with his red-haired Tully wife, and if it takes a bit of magic to ensure that they all have Stark grey eyes and Summer darkened skin that’s no one’s business but their own. Lyanna has her first son in pace with Lysa’s first son and the realm celebrates the birth of the second dragon prince. Rhaegar gives his very, very Stark son a Targaryen name, and Lyanna promptly starts to call the boy Jon just to spite him. Aerys is not pleased that Jon is so very Northern, and goes back to burning people alive in his throne room.

Lyanna is appalled, notices that no one is going to do anything to stop what’s happening, and proceeds to consult with her brothers. Ned’s husband is sent to visit family in Dorne and stops in King’s Landing to visit Lyanna on his way back. No one notices the wicker basket among the many gifts Jaime Fowler brought for the Northern Princess. No one notices the Princess’ eyes go all-over white as she sits in her bedchambers, alone for but her infant son as a King Cobra slithers through the Keep to leave two more punctures among Aerys’ many scabs. No one notices the tradesman from the Northern Marshes on his way to Dorne collect a sealed wicker basket from a maidservant before setting out to see with the tide before sunrise.

Everyone notices when the King is found stone dead in his own bedchambers, having died during a fit in his sleep. Rhaegar is crowned King, Elia and Lyanna being crowned with him. Lyanna loves her wife, even she’d rather drop her husband down a well. Still, Elia is an Andal, and it’s the Blood of the First Men that gives the Stark their magic. Jon is taught the secrets of his birthright by his mother while they sit together in the Godswood, joined in time by Aemon and Visenya. When Jon is nearing 16, Lyanna’s wolf disappears for a few moons, only to return heavy with pups. The Starks living in the Red Keep all have direwolves now, and Rhaegar is oblivious to the fact that none of his children think of themselves as Targaryens. That’s what happens when you ignore your children in favour of self-fulfilling prophecies.

Benjen has slowly been converting the Wildlings to the aggressively peaceful coexistence the Northern Lords and the Hill Clans favour. Then comes the time he starts to hear of the dead walking again to kill the living, and the Wildlings are suddenly afire to accept Benjen and Vals terms. The Gifts are soon full up, and the Castles along the Wall are being repaired and manned by volunteers from among the Free Men, and several Tribes are being sent further South to various Hill Clans to be settled in, and yet more are taking over long abandoned settlements to build them back up. Benjen scrambles to keep up, to keep his siblings informed, and he’s so, so grateful that Brandon and Ned are there to help disperse in massive influx of people around the Northern Kingdom. Thankfully Ned’s trade structures have grown enough that there was a demand for workers, and there’s wealth and space enough to go around.

Benjen is set upon by a White Walker, and his skin glows blue-and-gold in his desperation to survive. Benjen burns the way his older brother once showed him, in Extremis, and he survives to pass the warning on. The Others are coming, and the dead are marching on the Wall.

The Starks prepare for a war against the Long Night.

/…/

Tyrion Lannister is born a dwarf, but thanks to new knowledge passed down from the North his mother survives the birth. He was a very intelligent child, but had the unfortunate tendency to pick fights he had no chance of winning over the smallest of slights. Joanna despaired of him ever learning his limits, and despite Tywin’s best efforts to temper Tyrion’s foolishness the boy inevitably ends up picking the wrong fight and dying for it. Steve Rogers is always born to a physical disadvantage in hopes that he will eventually learn to compromise. A dwarf body is stunted, but he was healthy and clear headed. He could make something of his life if only he tried. Steve Rogers still needed to learn to reign in his impulses and keep unwanted opinions to himself. Not every argument needed to be settled with fists.

Margary Tyrell was much like her grandmother, and was likely to be the new Queen of Thorns when Oleanna finally passed away. Natasha Romanova enjoyed the simplicity of a new life where she didn’t need to kill anyone for a living. Still, she kept a wary eye on the Starks. They were advancing at a rate that was familiar to her, and the last thing she wanted was to be on Tony’s bad side again.

Denys Arryn was the darling of the Vale, but what few people knew was that his preferred weapon was the bow. Despite being from a poor house, he remained humble and courteous to all. Clint Barton regret nothing as much as he regret leaving Laura and his children to fight Stark over a stupid piece of paper. This time around he was committed to staying with his wife and raising their kids without any stupid running off. Seeing the Stark with Tony’s too-sharp smirk running around the Ayrie for a few years only cemented that decision in his mind.

Stannis Baratheon was a humourless boy, too smart and too serious by half. Although his anger, when roused, was mighty enough to tear down stone walls. Robert learned not to upset his younger brother the day he tormented Proudwing, and Stannis beat his elder brother bloody for harming the bird. Bruce Banner was resigned to the legacy of warning people “you won’t like me when I’m angry.” But really, Ours Is The Fury was just a bit too on the nose for him to be amused by it.

/…/

Rhaegar Targaryen felt very foolish indeed as he stared at his little sister. “You what?”

“… I hatched the dragon eggs you got me for my nameday.” Daenerys looked a little sheepish. “Lyanna and Elia helped me figure out how.”

The Dragon has Three Heads. Rhaegar felt faint as he stared down at the three squalling hatchlings cradled in his baby sister’s arms. His wives were laughing at him, he knew they were. Dragon’s had no gender, a Prince who was Promised could just as easily be a Princess, and sometimes a dragon is just a dragon.

“By the way, husband.” Lyanna mentioned idly from where she stood with a snickering Elia. “My brother Benjen tells me the Night King is awake again. The North is getting ready for a Long Winter, and to fight back the Others. You might want to start preparing the rest of the Kingdoms for that.”

Stiffly, Rhaegar turned his head to stare at his Winter Queen. “… What.”

And so the Prophecy of Fire and Ice is proven true.

#Sanjuno's ficwork #Tony is a Stark #GoT reincarnation crossovers #MCU fanfic

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hqdelila-blog · 7 years ago

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about a delight ;

• BASICS •

Full name: Delila Catriona Bautista-McIntosh

Nickname(s) or alias(es): De, Dede, Delly, Madame, Frenchie.

Preferred name(s): Delila, De, Dede.

Date of birth: May 12th, 1993

Zodiac sign: Taurus

Religion: Christian.

Gender: Female.

Preferred pronouns: She/her

Sexual preference: Pansexual.

Romantic preference: Pansexual

Hometown: Tagbilaran , Philippines

Resides in: The Vally, California.

Occupation: Professional Domme, Porn Star.

Language(s) spoken: Spanish, English, broken Scottish Gaelic .

Native language: Filipino, English.

• BACKGROUND •

Birth order: Youngest.

Level of education: Graduate of High School.

How were their grades? Excellent, top of class.

Best childhood memory: Anything about her life in the Philippines, seeing as both her parents were enlisted in the army, she was raised mainly by her grandparents. But her favorite memory, if she had to say one would be Christmas when she was 6, it was one where everyone was together, no threat, no... bad, just together.

Family’s economic status: Birth family, lower middle class, adopted family, very wealthy.

Childhood career choice: A solider, like her father.

School subject they excelled at: Anything with numbers, science, math-- she loved knowing there as a right and wrong answer.

School subject they had trouble with: Art, she could hardly hold a brush in her hand without dropping it, let alone create something.

• APPEARANCE, VOICE & MANNERISMS •

Birthmarks/scars/distinguishing marks: She has a freckle on her right cheek, but scarring is more what she has, after a tour overseas,she is littered in them; the worst of them on her right thigh and leg, her shoulders, and forearms. A lot of them look like burns, cuts.

Tattoos: None.

Piercings: Ears, just the lobes.

Dominant hand: Right.

Frequently worn jewelry: Her mothers wedding ring on her pointer finger and her fathers tags around her neck.

Speech style: (fast, monotone, loquacious?) Depending on who she is with and what she is talking about, it varies-- on casual days it is very clear, not monotone, but not so fast you cannot understand her. When she is angry, passionate, scared-- she will speak a bit faster.

Verbal tics: (do they have trouble pronouncing certain words or getting their thoughts across clearly?) None.

Scent: Tom Ford, Fucking Fabulous.

Posture: Excellent.

• PERSONALITY •

Personality type: ESFJ

Positive traits: Empathetic, Kind, Loyal.

Negative traits: Secretive, Dangerous, Impulsive.

Usual mood: Content.

Insecurities: Her skin color, her scarring.

Fears: Not making her birth parents proud, death, and birds.

Comforts: Physical touch, music, volunteer work.

Habits/quirks: Foot tapping.

Nervous tics: Playing with hair, touching hair.

Superstitions: None.

Pet peeves: People who play with food, bad hygiene.

• HEALTH & PSYCHOLOGY •

Diet: Generally very good, eats very healthy day to day but does enjoy her fatty foods-- doesn’t restrict much, but doesn’t binge.

Alcohol Use: Social.

Drug Use: None.

Addictions: None.

Allergies: Coconut.

Exercise habits: A hug runner, physical strength training

Sleeping habits: (Do they sleep well? Badly?) She sleeps terribly most nights, can never fall asleep-- has to take sleeping medication.

Any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities? Has a bum leg’, after her return from serving-- during she was sure she had broken her leg, sprained in, done some kind of damage that now she always walks with a small limp.

Any mental illnesses/disorders? PTSD.

Enneagram Type: 8, the protector.

Moral Alignment: (you can also view this for a simpler description) Lawful Good, "Crusader"

Temperament: Phlegmatic

Element: Earth.

Hogwarts House: RavenClaw.

Intelligence Type: Intrapersonal intelligence

• VIEWS ON... •

Life: “People take it too for-granted, they don’t understand that it can be taken away any moment and it is too short for hate.”

Death: “Something that happens, that... that happens too soon most of the time.”

Love: “Love is... love, love is wonderful and is always there-- it is always there, even in the darkest of times.”

Sex: “Love it enough to make a career out of it.”

Marriage: “Something I do want one day, one day I want it all, a husband/wife, children, a home---I want a love like my mother and fathers.”

Divorce: “An easy way out, there are people that fight for their right to get married only for nearly half of marriages to end in such. If it is for the right reason, a couple that has fallen out of love, a partner beingu nfaithful to the other, it is... just an end people know all too well.”

Family: “Not always traditional.”

Friends: “Needed to get by, needed to be not alone-- the platonic love is if not more important than romantic.”

Politics: “Fuck politics, fuck the fact that peoples voices are taken from them-- you may not want to hear me as a WOC, but you will.”

Religion: “A comfort.”

Work: “If you enjoy what you do, you will never work a day in your life. Doing what I do, I help those that needed it and that is all that matters.”

Money: “Something that I will never take for-granted,and as someone that is wealthy, I use it to help those that need it.”

Alcohol/Drug Use: N/A

Tattoos/Piercings: N/A

Swearing: N/A

• FAMILY •

Father(s): Birth Father ; Ailbeart Lee Paterson ; Adoptive Father; Jacob Andrew McIntosh.

Describe their relationship: Birth Father, Delila was always a fathers girl, while she didn’t she much of him while he was alive, him serving tour after tour; on the times he’d come back with her mother, they’d be attached at the hip. Her father had a thich Scottish accent, thick hair, and arms that when they wrapped around her, the months away, it didnt matter. Delila is proud of her father,she’s proud to be his daughter and wear his tags with honor. She only hopes that he’s proud of her. // Adopted father, The two of them-- they didn’t get along, but they did not not get along, her father was a man of few words, that was unless you did something he did not like-- then the words never stopped. She was thankful for him, he gave her the life anyone could ever want, a big house,money, the best education, but... he wasn’t her dad, she never felt that connection. As of the current moment, Delila has not spoken to her father since coming back from tour, she saw her parents for a total of 11 minutes and it left her knowing they wanted nothing to do with her.

Mother(s): Birth Mother ; Mahalia Dalisay Bautista Adoptive Mother ; Rosalinda Lydia McIntosh.

Describe their relationship: Birth Mother, It was the ongoing thing that Delila was her mothers birthday present, ringing in the womans birthday with her birth there was that bond the two shared that no one could place. While like her father, Delila didn’t see much of her, when she did, her mother was one to always squeeze in as much love, as much and as grand as she could in short bursts of time. The one lesson her mother taught her was to love her skin, love her voice- love everything that made her different. // Adopted mother, If there was one thing knew about her mom it was that she was beautiful, but that was it. And that stuck with her, no one could list a good thing about her mom, unless it was related to her beauty. Delila never understood why she choose her to adopt, why in the states there was plenty of children that needed a home, it wasn’t until she overheard her one day talking to a maid, that Delila was more or less a sign of...charity, that she was the ‘Look what a good person I am, I adopted this brown child.” To say their relationship is strained would be an understatement.

Pet(s): None.

• QUESTIONNAIRE •

Optimistic or pessimistic? Optimistic.

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? A combo of the two, while she is a very neat person, her years in the military taught her, she had a messy side to her, her room the best example.

Book smart or street smart? Both.

Leader or follower? Leader.

Day or night person? Day.

Cat or dog person? Both

Coffee or tea? Hot coffee, Iced tea.

What do they wear to bed? Normally nothing, but if something it’s just a big t-shirt.

Do they snore? No.

What position do they sleep in? On her stomach or on left side.

Which side of the bed do they sleep on? Right.

Can they multi-task or must they focus on one subject at a time? Multitask.

Do they get restless when things are too quiet or do they favour solitude and silence? Hates silence, gets very restless unless it is silence with a persons she is comfortable with .

What would completely break them? Being overtaken by her mental illness, never finding love because she is her own worst enemy.

What was the best thing in their life? Her life in the Philippines.

#NDHQTASK01

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riga789 · 7 years ago

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Won’t you dance with me — Chapter 5

Summary: Asking Maya to the school dance should not be this difficult.

(Set in the same timeline as, and a sequel to, my earlier fic Sanctuary)

Read on ao3 | ff.net

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4

After dinner, Maya escapes to her room. As soon as she disappears, Shawn heads out, after making vague excuses to Katy. He’s thankful he doesn’t have to do the same with his sharp-as-a-whip daughter as well, his wife looks suspicious enough.

He tells himself he isn’t being an interfering parent, but if he’s being honest with himself, he’s worried Maya might see it as exactly that. He’s still relatively new to this parenting thing, but he knows there are limits to the amount of meddling the father of a teenage child — a teenage daughter — should do. (Look at what Cory’s near-constant interference has done to poor Riley.)

When he and Cory were growing up, Mr. Matthews had bailed them out of many a crisis, but he’d usually left them to fumble their way through the ones that were merely a result of their own stupidity. Shawn is aware that Maya’s current predicament definitely doesn’t fall in the crisis category. But just remembering her sad little face at dinner compels him to do something.

Because if his years of shenanigans with Cory have taught him anything, it’s how to spot a fishy situation from miles away — and this feels exactly like one. From what he’s seen of Friar’s behaviour around Maya, there’s no way that country boy likes his daughter only as a friend. And he’s pretty sure Maya reciprocates his not-just-friendly feelings; he’s seen the looks they give each other when they think no one’s watching.

Shawn doesn’t know why Friar risked upsetting Maya by not asking her to the dance (and no, of course he’s not going to force the boy to go with her now!). But he intends to find out (and that’s all he’s going to do). Unintentional though it might have been, Maya suffered badly from her friends’ actions in freshman year, and he’s not going to let that happen again. He needs to get to the bottom of this precisely because the more he thinks about it, the fishier the situation appears.

On the way, he calls Zay Babineaux to Topanga’s. The boy doesn’t keep him waiting, arriving at the cafe only a couple of minutes after he does.

“What’s up, Mr. Hunter?”

Shawn gets straight to the point. “Why is Maya not going to the school dance?

“Oh man,” Zay sighs through his teeth. “I thought she’d pull something like that.”

“Why?”

“Every time someone brings up the subject of the dance, she changes it two seconds later — and avoids looking at anyone, but especially Lucas.”

Damn cowboy. “Who’s Friar going with?”

“Actually, I don’t know,” Zay squints as if he’s just realizing it. “Every time someone brings up the dance, he looks miserable and changes the subject too — except he’s all anguished, longing gazes at Maya.”

“I knew it! I knew that boy liked her.” Shawn’s pleasure at being right about something regarding Maya is cancelled out by the fact that he now knows for sure that Friar’s thoughts about Maya are not just friendly like he pretends.

“Like her?” Zay laughs. “Lucas has been half in love with her practically since he first met her. He was just too stupid to realize it.”

“If he likes her so much, why didn’t he ask her to the dance?”

“Ah.” That brings up Zay short. “I don’t know. I didn’t think to ask him.”

“You didn’t ask your best friend who he’s taking to the school dance?”

“Nah. I’m not really interested in going myself.”

Shawn sighs in exasperation. “Why not? I thought school dances were a big deal? I know they were back when I was in high school.”

“Well, you see, the girl I like is going with someone else,” Zay explains. “And the girl I was going to ask instead is going with someone else too. So, not interested.”

Shawn pinches the bridge of his nose. “Anyway,” he says, holding on to his patience. “Call Friar here.”

“Why me?”

“Because if I call him here, he’ll be suspicious, and he might tell Maya.”

“How do you know I won’t tell Maya?”

“Will you?”

“Nah man, I wanna see the fun first!”

*******

It takes Friar barely ten minutes to arrive. It’s lucky they all live so close by. The Farkle kid arrives with him.

“What are you doing here, spawn of Minkus?”

“Zay said to come.”

Shawn looks at Zay, who grins back unrepentantly. “I didn’t want him to miss out on the fun either!” he whispers behind his hand.

Lucas eyes Shawn and Zay suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

“You tell me, Friar,” Shawn shoots back. “Why was Maya upset when I brought up the school dance?”

To his surprise, Friar’s eyes turn hard. “She was? I swear, if he’s said or done anything to make her upset—”

“Who?”

“Charlie Gardner. He asked Maya to the dance last week,” Lucas says shortly.

This, as Shawn knows, is not true, because Maya isn’t going to the dance. If someone had asked Maya to go with them, and she’d said yes, she would be going. She wouldn’t abandon them. Maya isn’t like that.

But before Shawn can interrogate him any further, the door to Topanga’s slams open and another boy storms in. He looks as mad as Lucas.

“Well, speak of the devil!” Zay exclaims in the hearty 1950s accent Maya uses whenever Charlie is around.

The boy Shawn infers is Charlie Gardner strides up to them. “What the hell is your problem, Friar?” he growls, almost getting in his face.

Lucas doesn’t generally use his size and strength to intimidate, but he isn’t feeling particularly charitable towards Charlie right now. So he — with deliberate, contemptuous calmness — nudges Charlie back. “What’s your problem, Gardner?”

They confront each other, practically nose to nose, looking for all the world like two boxers squaring off, though Charlie is a good half a head shorter and significantly less muscular than Lucas.

Shawn, Zay and Farkle all roll their eyes.

“Do you have to go after every girl I like?”

Friar looks confused at the other boy’s words, but still angry. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how every time I like a girl, you butt your big nose in!”

“Since when have you liked Maya before I did?” Lucas demands. “I’ve liked her since middle school! I liked her before you even knew her!”

He misses the wide grin that appears on Zay’s face, or the way Farkle’s jaw falls open in surprise.

Shawn raises an eyebrow. If Lucas really has liked Maya since middle school, and still managed to cause the mess that was the triangle between himself, Maya and Riley, then he really is a bonehead.

“Maya? I’m not talking about Maya, I’m talking about Brenda!” Charlie yells (too dramatically, Shawn thinks). “I was going to ask Brenda to the dance! You just had to go and ask her first, didn’t you?”

“You were the one who asked Maya to the dance first!”

“What are you talking about? I never asked her.”

Shawn mentally groans. This is what he gets for trying to look out for his daughter: having to deal with a bunch of teenagers with questionable intelligence.

Lucas and Charlie have simmered down, both looking more bewildered than angry.

“Friday, last week,” Lucas reminds Charlie. “When you were standing by Maya’s locker before first period.”

“I was asking her advice on how to ask Brenda out!” Charlie explodes. “And when I finally asked Brenda today, she said she’s going with you!”

“You asked Brenda?” Zay chimes in, pointing at Lucas.

“Yeah, after I overheard Charlie ask Maya—”

“I didn’t ask Maya!” Charlie interrupts, nearly apoplectic now.

“—Brenda’s in my physics class, and she said no one had asked her to go the dance either.” Lucas finishes. “Why?”

“I asked Brenda a couple of days ago,” Zay says, “And she told me she was going with someone else. I didn’t think it was you.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Lucas asks his best friend, a bit worried. “I know you liked her, but I thought you were over her, man. Besides, I thought you like Sma—”

Zay jumps up and covers Lucas’s mouth before he blabs anything more, nearly taking him down to the floor. “Never mind him,” he says to the others, clinging to Lucas’s back, “He never makes sense anyway.”

“Even if you liked Brenda before, why would you ask her out now instead of asking Smackle?” Charlie asks.

Since he’s still trying to restrain his best friend, Zay can only mentally facepalm. If it’s not one person, it’s another. What is it with people blabbing out other people’s feelings?

“Hehehehe!” He hopes his laughter isn’t too forced. “Why would I ask Smackle? I have no reason to ask Smackle.”

Charlie snorts. “Come on! You like her, you spend all of biology staring at her with that stupid smile on your face while she practically takes over the class.”

“No, I don’t,” Zay says nervously.

Lucas takes advantage of his distraction to push aside his hand and shrug him off his back. “Looks like everyone knows you like her, man.”

“No, I don’t!” Zay insists. “Besides, she’s going with Farkle.”

“No she’s not.” Farkle pipes up. “I’m going with Missy.”

Lucas, Zay, and Charlie all raise their eyebrows at him.

Looking back and forth between the four boys, feeling like he’s watching a doubles tennis match, Shawn infers that this turn of events is completely outside the realm of belief to the two Texans and the boy he now remembers Maya referring to as a cheese soufflé (he has no idea why).

“Missy Bradford?” Lucas asks, disbelievingly.

“Yeah, she asked me last week. She thinks I’m cute.” Farkle gives them the cheeky Minkus genius smile. “She says she thought I was cute back in middle school, and wants to go with me to the dance. Smackle doesn’t mind. We broke up months ago, guys. She and I were only going to go together as friends if we didn’t have someone else to go with. When Missy asked me, I said yes, and pushed Smackle to ask you, Zay. I’m pretty sure she likes you back.”

“What??”

Shawn closes his eyes and massages his temples. He can feel the headache brewing in his skull. What is it with these teenagers and their convoluted dating lives? More than that, all this meddling in each other’s lives. If Shawn was worried before that his investigating this situation would have seemed like interference, he’s definitely not worried now. Not with these guys making such a mess of things themselves.

“I thought Smackle spoke to you about it.” Now Farkle looks unsure.

“She didn’t! All she did was ask me a couple of days ago in the cafeteria what my plans for the dance were.”

“And what did you say?”

“I told her it was just a stupid school dance and that I wasn’t going, and then I left! I haven’t really seen much of her since.”

There’s a pause as the four boys just look at each other in confusion, clearly aware that something’s wrong but unable to figure out exactly what that is.

Shawn raises his eyes to the heavens, praying for patience, reminding himself that teenage boys are dumb and that he was once one himself. “That might have been Smackle angling to ask you to go with her,” he says, and the boys turn to him. “And your reaction may have given her the impression that you’d rather not go to the dance at all than go with her.”

Zay makes a strangled noise as his mouth opens and shuts like a goldfish.

Lucas pats his shoulder in comfort, then freezes, eyes wide as he remembers something that’s far more important to him. Realization has dawned. He turns to Charlie. “So you didn’t ask Maya out?”

Charlie nearly rips his hair out in exasperation (And Shawn sympathises with him). “For the last time, Friar, NO! I wanted to ask Brenda, and I was asking Maya for help!”

“Then why did you wait this long to ask Brenda?”

“Because I wanted to make it really special for her.” A beatific, daydreamy smile appears on Charlie’s face. “My cousin helped me set up a romantic dinner date tonight, and I gave Brenda flowers and balloons. I even made her a banner, with petals to make the words asking her to go to the dance with me.” He sighs, then his smile disappears. “And she said no, Friar! You know why? Because you butted in and asked her first!”

The irony of the situation is not lost on Lucas, and he almost laughs — this whole mess seems to have started because he himself delayed asking Maya to the dance because he wanted to make it special for her. But he doesn’t think Charlie would find it very funny. Besides, he has more important things to deal with first. Such as—

“So, Maya’s not going with anyone to the dance?” He asks, a mix of horror and hope on his face.

Finally!, Shawn thinks, they’ve gotten to the point of this entire exercise. “Maya’s not going to the dance at all,” he announces.

Lucas looks appalled, and Farkle and Charlie join Shawn in glaring at him. Only Zay isn’t paying him any attention, still grappling with the terrifying revelation that he now has to ask Smackle to go with him (because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t).

Just then, a young brown-haired girl walks in, looking around curiously.

“Brenda!” Charlie exclaims. “What are you doing here?”

“Farkle messaged and asked if I could come...” she trails off undecidedly.

“What?” Farkle shrugs when everyone turns to stare at him. “She needed to be here. Someone has to clean up this mess you three dum-dums created.” He points to Lucas, Zay, and Charlie, who scowl back at him indignantly.

“What’s going on, Charlie?” Brenda asks, eyeing the boys and Shawn warily, no doubt wondering why she’s been invited to this circus.

Charlie hesitates.

“Ask her!” Lucas, Zay, Farkle and Shawn simultaneously yell.

“Okay, okay! Brenda, will you go to the school dance with me?”

“I already told you, Charlie, I’ve agreed to go with Lucas.”

“It’s okay Brenda,” Lucas interrupts. “You can go with him if you want. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

Brenda looks relieved. “Okay, Charlie, then I’ll go with you.”

Charlie grins hugely. Shawn thinks he looks a bit like a moron, but well, there are three other young morons in here, so Charlie’s in good company. Everyone watches as the reunited couple walk out.

“Ah, young love,” Zay pretends to wipe a tear from his eye.

Shawn clears his throat. “Don’t you guys have somewhere to be?”

“I have to go.” Lucas scrambles hurriedly out of the cafe.

“Yeah, me too.” Zay follows on his heels.

Both of them leave, forgetting Shawn and Farkle, who grins conspiratorially at him.

“Off you go, Minkus’s robotic offspring.”

“I’m a real boy!” Farkle protests.

“Scram!”

“Scramming!”

Ch.6 | Ch.7

This was a really hard chapter to write, mainly because it's dialogue-heavy (and dialogue is where I struggle the most), and the mixed PoVs. What did you think of it? How did I do? Let me know!

#lucaya #lucaya fanfiction #girl meets world #girl meets world fanfiction #gmw #gmw fanfiction #maya hart #lucas friar #my writing #my posts

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rizachan · 7 years ago

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Cinderella Phenomenon Contest Entry #2

I can’t help it okay?

Word Count: 1449

Backstory:

Once upon a time, there was a witty young lady named Axiella Cherylle Wystgarde. She was the only daughter of two noble knights of Angielle, but unfortunately lost their lives when they were discovered that they helped two witches escape during the Witch Hunt.

A friend of the witches is an enemy of the humans. That was what they believed; that those knights were witches themselves and they would one day bring doom to the kingdom. Driven by their fear, they felt it was the right choice to set their home in flames. They convinced themselves that they were just protecting themselves, and if they truly were noble, at least they died with a cause… no matter how absurd it was.

“MOMMY! DADDY!”

The young Axiella, who had just came back from playing with the children in the town square, tried to call for her parents one more time. She was forced back by the flames, making her knees weak with helplessness. She cried out her parents’ names, holding on to the chance that they may make it out alive.

But that flickering hope died out pretty soon.

“Kill the girl! She must be a witch too!”

She had to run away for the sake of surviving, even though her limbs were aching badly. Her feet went numb, her body trembled in constant fear of being captured and killed. She had no time to waste.

She went to her friends, but they all turned against her. The adults tried to seize her, but she managed to fight her way and escape. The eyes that looked at her was no longer filled with adoration but hatred and fear.

At such a young age, she had seen the cruel side of the world.

Being a lost cause, she carelessly wandered around the woods deep in the night, finally able to scream her agony out. Her summer dress was dirtied with soot, her skin had cuts and scratches all over. Her voice cracked as her throat dried, but she didn’t mind. She couldn’t. Everything had already sank in: she was left alone.

She sought for vengeance ever since that day. She made sure to stay alive, doing whatever was necessary to survive. She gathered fruits from the trees, even stole from the travelers that passed by. Axiella couldn’t realize how her heart was being corrupted by her desire for revenge, being placed in that situation at a fragile age of ten. She didn’t want to see pity; she knew it in herself that no one would pity the girl whose parents were believed to be witches.

But there was.

After five months of living like that, her frail body dropped to the ground after being managed to be grazed by a blade, a mistake she made after stealing from a patrolling knight. She managed to run away from sight, but soon she was losing blood.

Her half-lidded eyes stared at the tall trees that filtered the light of the afternoon sun. Tears blurred her vision as she lost consciousness. Fortunately, a hunter and his wife found her and went to help, bringing her in their home at a hidden part of the woods.

At first, Axiella was doubtful. Their kindness must be a façade. They’d eventually turn me in to those people, she thought. But the couple admitted that they were hiding from the public themselves, in fear of being killed because of discrimination. Axiella never knew that the couple were the same witches that her real parents helped from before, but somewhere in her heart, she felt like she can trust once again.

Since then, Axiella felt like she found another place to call home.

The couple, Saxton and Lilia, grew fond of her, making her a part of their family. Saxton taught Axiella how to hunt, as she eventually became skilled with the bow. He even taught her the basics of combat, in case she runs into trouble like she did before. Axiella wasn’t unhappy about it. She loved them as if they were her parents themselves, and wanted to protect herself from the cruelty of the world.

A year later, the couple had a daughter and named her Beatrix. Axiella treated her like a sister, happy that there was another person she can talk to since she was never allowed to go beyond the woods, which she didn’t mind since she never wanted to go back there.

When the Great War began, Saxton and Lilia received a letter from their friend, Delora, who was requesting for them to fight with the Lucis Bearer. They wanted to, but they were reluctant to leave the children at such troubling times. However, they remembered the two knights that helped them, and remembered how they were killed because of the conflict between the witches and the humans.

“Axiella, we have to go somewhere very important. Both of you should be inside until we come back.”

“When will you come back?”

“We don’t know, sweetheart. But we promise we’d be back soon, so take care of Beatrix for us, alright?”

“Okay. I promise to protect Beatrix no matter what!” she said with optimism. “I love you both!”

“We love you too, Axiella.”

While they were away, someone was suddenly in front of their door. Noticing that they weren’t Saxton nor Lilia, Axiella was quick to take her baby sister and hide in the attic, where the perpetrators fortunately didn’t notice.

“Let’s go back tomorrow. The children must be back by then.”

While in the attic, the girl found Lilia’s diary and discovered about everything, including their heritage and the letter. Axiella, though flooded with mixed feelings, thought that they weren’t safe there anymore and left home.

They managed throughout the woods by hunting and eating fruits. Soon, Axiella overheard a traveler talking about the end of the war so they finally returned to their home. Instead of Saxton and Lilia waiting for them, Axiella found a note signed by Delora. She wrote about what happened in the war, and unfortunately the couple wasn’t able to escape from Hildyr’s wrath. Axiella felt bitter, losing important people again, but she couldn’t let herself break in front of the young Beatrix, so instead she felt determined to protect Beatrix even more.

Four years later, Axiella was already eighteen while Beatrix was ten, Beatrix suddenly grew very ill that Axiella, having nowhere else to go, went to seek help from Delora. However, instead of Delora, she stumbled upon a corrupted witch. The witch eventually recognized her as the child of a “traitor” and intended to kill her, but…

“I will not die in a place like this.” She stated firmly, staring right into her captor’s eyes with such tenacity. “I will return to my sister alive, and you will not stop me.”

The witch felt amused by her determination and so she decided to strike a deal with Axiella: that she will help her sister under one condition. Axiella agreed to do anything, so the witch cursed her with the Snow White’s Curse, twisted in a way that would get rid of a traitor’s child if she doesn’t manage to break the curse. Axiella’s “heart” gets trapped in a crystal apple and kept away in a box. Her skin turned as white as snow and she suffers when exposed to sunlight, as if an albino. She has to retrieve her “heart” before the crystal apple “rots” (or completely rusts) or else she dies. Once the curse was done, Axiella woke up in their home and found that Beatrix was alright, like the witch promised.

However, because of the curse, she cannot hunt often since she gets tired easily, an effect of not having her heart. She also cannot stay out in broad daylight for long so she needs to wear a cloak, which hinders her movements. These burdens made their life a little harder, and so she was forced to make a decision.

Axiella wanted to try and find Delora again, however she was afraid the witch would target Beatrix next. Reluctantly, she agreed to take Beatrix out to the kingdom of Angielle, where her darkest memories seeded from.

She wanted to break the curse as soon as possible, because she doesn’t want her poor baby sister to suffer the constant loss of family like she did. She cannot die and leave Beatrix alone, without anyone to turn to. Even if it meant all her time and effort, she would do whatever it takes for Beatrix to live a happy life, and she will be there to see it. She promised, and she intends to keep it.

“My dearest family… Mommy, Daddy… Saxton, Lilia… Please look after us.”

Entry 1 | Entry 3

#CPContest #cinderella phenomenon #cp #writing contest #contest entry

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dontshootmespence · 7 years ago

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College Crime Stoppers

A/N: An anon request for a BAU fic where they are a much younger group of kids, late teens and early twenties, not working for the BAU, that go around solving crimes in their spare time, kind of like the Scooby Doo gang. Takes place in Vegas. @coveofmemories @jamiemelyn @sexualemobitch @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26

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What happened when seven college students with a knack for actually using their brains came together in their off time?

Basically, you got the real-life Sherlock Holmes, Kay Scarpettas, and Hercule Poirots of the world - the wanna-be crime stoppers that were using their wits for something other than law enforcement.

First, there was David Rossi, age 23, whose parents worked for an engineering firm and had been transferred just before he started college. He’d drifted through school for nearly three and a half years, not knowing what he truly wanted to do, until finally he landed on it. Cooking - it had always been his one true passion. Once he’d finally decided what he wanted to do, he transferred to Le Cordon Bleu’s campus in Vegas and was training under some of the best in the field.

Next was Aaron Hotchner, age 22, who’d grown up doors down from David. Since he was a child, he knew he wanted to be a lawyer. After four grueling years of college, he was returning to the University of Nevada, Las Vegas in just a few weeks to begin law school. His father, also a lawyer, was ecstatic, and Mrs. Hotchner could not have been more proud.

Derek Morgan was also 22. From the time he was a child, his father had taught him the value of working with his hands, so it felt truly natural for him to pursue a degree in construction management; it would allow him to continue on the legacy his father had built, Morgan and Hayes Construction, a construction company his father had established with his best friend, Matthew Hayes. Morgan couldn’t deny that in his time of from school his mind tended to wander toward Hayes’ daughter, Savannah.

Emily Prentiss, age 21, was the next oldest in the group of seven. Her mother was an ambassador, so they had moved around for quite a while, but she’d taken a permanent position for her daughter to stay in the same high school. Best friends with JJ and dating Aaron Hotchner, she was pursuing a degree in world languages with a minor in Russian and Spanish, hoping to one day work for the UN.

Then was Penelope Garcia, age 20. On her own for the past two years after her parents tragically passed away in a car crash, she hopped to different friends’ houses and had taught herself coding. She never went to school, but she could probably hack the Pentagon if someone asked her to.

JJ, or Jennifer Jareau, was 19 years old and wanted more than anything to become a nurse, and hopefully work in a neonatal unit of a nearby hospital. She, Penelope and Spencer all lived near each other, and anyone you asked would say the trio was inseparable.

And lastly of course was Spencer Reid, a certified genius with an IQ of 187. He’d already obtained two bachelor’s degrees and was starting a Ph.D. in Engineering at the University of Nevada Las Vegas this year.

Through it all, different schools, different towns, somehow the seven of them had come together. One day about a year earlier, someone had asked them in passing if they’d seen someone pass by with a very particular bike that had been stolen from him. It had irked them so badly, they ended up seeking out the bike stealer and eventually returning the bike to its original owner.

Ever since then, if someone needed help in their local area, they found themselves helping. “You ready to go?” JJ asked Spencer, at the moment reluctantly peeling himself off her couch. The group of them had decided to go to a Halloween-themed Murder Mystery dinner. Spencer was dreading going; he hated big gatherings of any kind, but JJ and Penelope had begged him to go.

“Yea,” he groaned.

Within a half hour, all seven college students found themselves sitting at a table enjoying the beginning of a delicious three-course meal. Now was going to be the moment that the lights would go out and a dead body would appear, Spencer thought to himself. It was all so predictable. And as if on cue, the lights went out, came back on two seconds later, and when they returned, he saw the body of a man on the floor.

Everyone playfully screamed, while the already jaded college students giggled at the whole ordeal...until Emily noticed the body seemed to be bleeding. When she approached the body and turned him over, there was a small knife sticking straight out of his heart.

In a panic, everyone actually started screaming. Emily turned toward her friends and boyfriend. Should they help? Could they help? Sure, the police would be there soon, but it would still be a while, and no one could leave until they arrived. “We should help,” she said.

“We found a stolen bike, a missing cat, and stopped a bully,” Spencer whispered hotly. “Murder? How are we supposed to help?”

Emily wanted to help and Aaron wanted to impress her, so that meant he did too. Spencer was too petrified to help, and JJ and Penelope just thought they wouldn’t be able to, while Rossi and Morgan just thought the rest of the group was insane.

While they waited, they observed the panicked patrons around them. The man on the floor had been sitting at a nearby table. Everyone with him looked suspicious now. “Are any of them missing a knife?” Rossi asked.

Spencer huffed. “I would hope no one would be that stupid. None of them are missing one, plus, the handle looked too small, like it was a paring knife or something, not a steak knife.”

“I overheard the man next to the woman in green saying something about his old job. I think he employed the dead man at one point. Maybe he has a connection?”

“Maybe,” JJ interjected. “But the woman is my bet.”

“Why do you say that?” Morgan asked.

She turned back toward the woman, glancing every now and then to gauge her reaction. “Her reaction when everyone else thought it was still the dinner was just a touch too real, and now she is over the top. Of course, you’d expect a woman to be distraught over the loss of her husband,” JJ said, pointing to her ring finger to indicate the woman and man were married, “But she is crying way too hard.”

“So maybe she’s just really distraught,” Morgan said.

Hotch shook his head. “No, JJ’s right. She’d not crying out of sadness. It’s anger.”

“Why anger?” Emily wondered aloud.

Spencer noticed the woman turning to the others at the table and pointing fingers, both literally and figuratively. “She’s accusing the people she’s with. If she was purely just distraught, she probably wouldn’t be thinking about who did it.”

“So we have a theory that it’s the woman in green, right?” Penelope asked, her blonde curls bouncing up and down as she moved in quickly to whisper to her friends.

JJ nodded. “Can you hack another person’s phone from your phone?”

“Can I?” Penelope said surprised. “Is there anything yours truly can’t do?”

If she could hack the Pentagon from a laptop in her car, she could get into a couple of cellphones. At the speed of light, her fingers flew across the keyboard, attempting to uncover the dirty little secrets of the inhabitants of the nearby table.

While Penelope worked her magic with the cellphones, everyone else mingled around the open space, chatting with anyone they could to gain some valuable insight as to who the killer might be. The police arrived shortly after and started taking statements, mostly from tables toward the front, where they and their suspects were not.

“What have you found?” Hotch asked Penelope as he sidled over to her.

“What have I not found?” She laughed. “The man next to the woman in green is Michael Dance, a construction engineer who recently fired the dead man, Jacob Brewer. The woman in green is Jacob’s wife, Melanie. Next to Melanie on the other side is her friend, Justine Cramer, who dated Jacob in high school. Next to Justine is her current husband, the second one, whose name is Marcus. The guy next to Marcus? Justine’s first husband, Eric Goldstein. Who knows what the hell is up with that. And the other couple at the table are Tina and Barry Rockingham. They have no connection to anyone at the table.”

“You got all that in ten minutes?” Hotch asked incredulously.

Penelope feigned hurt and grabbed Hotch’s drink, downing it in one gulp. “I am the master,” she smiled. “Now mama’s gonna grab some more of this amazing ice tea while the rest of you do your thing.”

While the police continued to take statements, the rest of the crime-fighting group gathered back at the table save for Emily. “What do we have?” Rossi asked.

“Well, there seemed to be some hostility between Jacob, the dead dude, and his former employer, Michael Dance. Michael had to lay people off recently because of the economy and it didn’t sit well with Jacob,” Morgan said. “But Michael had no ill will toward Jacob, so I don’t know what the motive would be.”

“Justine is just your typical gold-digger,” Spencer said candidly. “She came here with her second husband. She comes every year, so that’s how her first husband ended up here, because he was trying to win her back even though she cleaned him out of half his cash during their divorce.” The rest of the group wondered how he got this information. “It’s a wonder what people say when they’re drunk.”

“True,” Emily said as she approached. “But I think I know who did it...the chef. Well, the guy playing the chef.”

Rossi being the oldest of the group always asked the rest of them for explanations, like he was the boss or something. “How do you know?”

Emily took a deep breath and then went into a full-on speech. “While I was talking to the other couple at the table, who have no connection to the rest of them by the way, I overheard a conversation taking place behind me between the guy playing the chef and the guy playing the butler. The guy playing the butler asked why the other one was so calm, and he responded ‘that condescending fucker had what was coming to him.’ Now that perked my ears up, so I turned around and used my womanly wiles to get them to give me their names. The butler is Brendon Pond and the chef is Joseph Brewer; that’s right, the dead man’s brother.”

Penelope had since returned to the group and again pulled out her phone to dig a little deeper into the lives of Jacob, Joseph and Melanie Brewer. “Okay, since Jacob was laid off, he developed his own construction firm in a neighboring town. He made quite a name for himself and his business seemed to be growing. I have a police report here that says that Joseph, two years younger, was taken into custody after a fight because he needed a job, but his brother wouldn’t give him one. Apparently his younger brother is a screw-up.”

“Well,” JJ said with a smile, “If I know men, and I think I do, Joseph coveted his brother’s entire life, wife included. The two of them started an affair. Jacob, being a construction firm owner, probably has a decent life insurance policy, so with him out of the way, Melanie and Joseph would be well-off and they could be together.

Morgan eyes widened. Spencer pondered why people couldn’t stay faithful. Emily gave JJ a high five and Penelope once again patted herself on the back for a job well done.

Eventually, the police came to them to give a statement. They’d been asking everyone if they could think of who would’ve done such a thing, so all of them told the police of their suspicions, minus the initial hacking on Penelope’s part of course.

Once everyone had given a statement, most of them would be free to go, but the young college students actually wanted to stay and see how things played out. It got even more interesting when the police started taking statements from the people at Melanie Brewer’s table. Without bringing the wanna-be crime stoppers into it, they’d brought up a variety of possibilities. “What the hell gave you that idea?” Joseph Brewer boomed. Although he hadn’t meant to, the cop had glanced back toward the group. “You think I’m a killer?”

Emily just laughed, Joseph’s drunken breath nearly knocking her off her feet. “Yea, actually. You have a history of hating your brother. She has a history of cheating. All public record mind you,” she said, turning toward the officer, “Who better to be carrying around that murder weapon than the man playing the chef, and on top of that I believe I see a small speck of blood on that navy blue tie you’re wearing, presumably from when you washed your hands.”

In his supreme inebriation, he didn’t even try to hide it, screaming about how his brother deserved it and bringing Melanie down with him. “She put me up to it! Said we could be together and we’d be rich!”

Ear-piercing screams and flying fists played out in front of them until the cops put them both in handcuffs. They might not have had conclusive proof, but they did have enough to take them in. One of the officers approached the group and thanked them for their time, suggesting they might like law enforcement if they hadn’t picked a major yet before returning to the suspects to bring them to the squad car.

When they were taken outside, passing the group of college crime stoppers on the way, the brother muttered under his breath. “I could've gotten away with it if it weren't for you meddling kids!”

#criminal minds #criminal minds au #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #dontshootmespence #college crime stoppers

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ihavealavalamp · 7 years ago

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TELL ME ABOUT WALTER I DONT KNOW HIM VERY WELL BUT I LOVE HIM

WELL

Walter Goodmen, previously known as Gormadon Onkmetaryttis, is a silver dragonborn bard who favors the lute. He comes from the Onkmetaryttis family, which is a long line of dragonborn warriors that live atop a snowy mountain overlooking a town called Frostvale. He has an older sister named Siarick, and a younger brother named Velerin. From the start, Walter was much more emotional and weaker than what was expected of a Onkmetaryttis child, and it took a long time to even separate him from his mother. He had a tendency to wander off a lot as well, which led to an incident where he got separated from his parents while in Frostvale, and encountered an older human named Willard (human fighter/paladin, played by elijah) who, while he held a grudge against the Onkmetaryttis family for not assisting in a goblin attack that led to his wife’s death, gave young Walter ice cream and helped him find his way back to his parents.

Walter’s childhood was far from happy. His natural gentleness wasn’t seen as proper by his family and led to them being tougher on him, bordering on abusive towards him. When he was around 3 (dragonborn age weirdly, to humans he was abut 10ish) he messed up badly during a training session, and to avoid his inevitable punishment, he ran away into Frostvale. He wandered around the town for hours, unwilling to go home, until it grew dark out. Eventually he came across a moon elf busking on the dark streets, and Walter was immediately enamored by his music. The moon elf, Ellar, noticed Walter as his only audience and offered to teach Walter how to play the lute. He sat there with Ellar for hours playing the lute, and by the end of the night Ellar decided to give Walter the lute, making him promise to return it in the future once he became a successful musician. Walter eagerly accepted, said farewell to Ellar, and returned home.

Now that he had something positive in his life, Walter became determined to be the best musician in the world, and to find Ellar again someday and thank him for the gift. At first, he would sneak out into the woods at night to practice in secret. Then he started sneaking down to Frostvale, and with support from Willard who he reconnected with (at one point Willard was at a very low point in his life, but after hearing one of Walter’s songs, he decided to carry on), he started busking on the streets and playing in bars. Wanting to not be associated with his family, and to prevent them from finding out about his musical career, he started going by the alias ‘Walter Goodmen’ instead of Gormadon. He became well-known amongst the residents of Frostvale, and well-loved for his friendliness and talent.

However, when Walter was around 20, his father found out about Walter’s secret, which led to a confrontation. His father broke the lute in front of Walter, causing him to fly into a rage. They got into a huge fight, with Walter somehow ending up as the victor. Leaving his father badly injured, Walter gathered up the remains of his lute and ran off. He managed to use magic to mend it back together, but the guilt of the fight eventually caught up to him, so he found himself in one of his usual performing bars that night. He vented to the bartender, who at this point was a good friend, and talked about his fight with his father. However, he was unknowingly overheard by a group of suspicious folks who were at the bar as well that night. Knowing that the Onkmetaryttis family was rich and that they were at a disadvantage, they decided to go and ransack the place while the family was in such disarray.

Eventually Walter decided to come back home, but arrived to disaster; the estate was ransacked and partially destroyed from the fight, his family was injured, and his father, who had already been weak from his fight with Walter, was dead. Horrified, Walter tried to help, but his sister attacked him. She had overheard the bandits mention Walter, and believing that he had sent them to the estate to attack them, she threatened to kill him if he ever showed his face in Frostvale ever again. Terrified of his sister, Walter grabbed the few important belongings he had, and fled the estate. In a bad mental state and scared to go alone, he ended up at Willard’s door at 3am, and asked if he would at least accompany him to the nearest town. Despite Walter giving next to no explanation behind his injured state and his exile, Willard easily agreed, and the two left before dawn. Walter didn’t look back.

Willard ended up staying with Walter on his journey, with Walter travelling to spread his music everywhere, and eventually find Ellar again to return his lute. Two months pass as the two travel, and the events of the campaign begin. After a lovely performance in a bar in the town they’ve stopped in, Walter and Willard discuss their route to the next city, and plan to go through a dungeon rumored to have treasure, since it’s along the way. They are overheard by Ahlosse Tuckfish (high elf rogue, played by simone), who makes a career out of swindling and lying to travelers. Ahlosse offers to help them through the dungeon, in exchange for a portion of the treasure they find. Willard is immediately suspicious of Ahlosse, but Walter is quick to trust him, and accepts his offer. The next morning they find the entrance of the dungeon and encounter a man named Monty (human rogue, played by josh. at first he was gonna be a temporary player, but eventually became full-time). With Monty’s silver braided hair and instrument, Walter mistook him as Ellar from a distance, but quickly realized his mistake. The three found out that Monty was also going into the dungeon, and he became a part of the party as well. Willard and Ahlosse were wary of him, but Walter being Walter, he trusted Monty immediately.

After many dungeon shenanigans, the party eventually finds out that the dungeon is actually the tomb of a starved archlich. Despite Walter trying to befriend and reason with it, the archlich takes most of the team down with no problem, with Walter being the first to go down. After Monty successfully takes it down on his own, everyone else comes back to full health, and inspect the ruins. They find an immense amount of gold that is evenly split between them, and also a strange book regarding liches. While Willard takes the book, he awakes to find it gone, taken by Monty who is also gone by the time morning comes around.

Ahlosse, for some reason, decides to stick with Walter and Willard as they continue their journey, and eventually forms an odd friendship with Walter, with Willard slowly starting to trust him more. Eventually Monty returns as well, and sticks with the party with the sole intention of finding them interesting to be around.

A few sessions go by, and Willard is revealed to be of the Murkblood family, a long line of paladins. They also find out that the government consists mostly of liches and is filled with corruption. Walter learns that Monty has heard of Ellar, but has no idea where he may currently be. At one point, while under the influence of Zone of Truth, Walter references to the fact that he has caused a death before, but refuses to talk about it once confronted about it. Monty was sent by the government to retrieve the lich book from the first session, and had known about the lich government the whole time. He warns Walter that things are going to get chaotic soon, but he has to trust him, even if Ahlosse and Willard don’t. Walter is hesitant about this, stating that he’ll decide who to trust when the time comes. They befriend a halfling lich named Maurice, who they pretend to kill in a fight, while secretly keeping his phylactery safe as they wait for him to come back.

In the last session, the party finally made it to the capital. However, they’re almost immediately attacked by soldiers in the street, and kidnapped. When Walter awakes, he finds himself in an interrogation room of sorts, and meets Danny Mcgrass, the president (i made him up as a joke but now he’s a real serious character. im in hell). Danny requests for Walter to play a particular song that he had played with Ellar way back when they first met. After stalling for time and realizing there was no way out of the room, Walter finally played the song. He then found out that Ellar was also captured by the government, with Danny saying “Don’t worry, we won’t hurt Ellar,” then leaving without explanation, leaving Walter devastated and distraught that he was so close to his goal, but couldn’t do anything about it.

Eventually Walter is escorted out of the room, and as he’s walking amongst other rooms, he sees through the window of one of the rooms, and sees that it’s Ellar in the cell, the same as the day he met him. Walter struggles to get to him, calling his name, but Ellar can’t hear him and Walter is easily restrained by the guards.

As he’s escorted into a court room, the party learns that Danny plans to have the three (Walter, Willard, and Ahlosse - Monty is nowhere to be seen by them at this point) accused of treason and ‘executed’ so that their deaths can be faked, because Danny has some sort of ulterior motive involving mostly Walter and Willard. Monty is tasked by Danny to act as their defendant in this court, but to manipulate the situation to make them seem guilty.

As Walter and Ahlosse sit next to each other, they discuss how they’re pretty much fucked and will end up executed. Ahlosse tells Walter that he’s innocent and doesn’t deserve to be in the situation, while Ahlosse believes that he does. However, Walter tearfully tells Ahlosse that he doesn’t want Ahlosse to die, and that he cares about him. As they lose hope in the situation, Walter tells Ahlosse that he does deserve to be in this situation, and finally tells Ahlosse about the killing of his father, believing this to be their last opportunity to talk. Ahlosse tells Walter that it wasn’t his fault, and Walter isn’t sure what to say, as he has been blaming himself for it for over five months at this point.

However, Monty suddenly betrays Danny, using a magical item to remove the restraints on the rest of the party. Chaos ensues as they try to flee, with Walter making a beeline for where he had seen Ellar. Danny does everything he can to stop their escape, but his plan goes to shit when, unexpectantly, Maurice awakens from his phylactery in the nick of time. Maurice creates a portal for the others to escape, the location of where they’ll end up depending on whoever has the strongest will. I happened to roll the highest for this decision, so when the team comes out the portal, they end up in Ellar’s cell. In the matter of seconds they destroy Ellar’s restraints, and with his help, break out of the building and eventually find themselves in one of Monty’s safehouse, finally able to take a breather after all that.

Walter approaches Ellar nervously, unprepared for this situation and in shock that his goal is finally before him, returns the lute. Ellar is surprised and seems uncomfortable with meeting Walter again after all these years. He’s shocked that Walter only searched for him for “the lute thing”, and seems reluctant to reveal the other reason as to why Walter would have been looking for him. With a sneering prompt from Monty, he hesitantly reveals that he is actually Walter’s biological father, and that he is actually an ancient silver dragon that prefers his elf form. And that’s where we ended last session.

Basically Ellar is an ancient silver dragon, but his good looks as an elf caused him to really get around. Eventually he ended up impregnating an elven maiden, and upon birthing a fucking dragonborn child, she threw the baby at Ellar and left in a huff. Unsure of what to do with the child and having next to no parenting abilities, Ellar tried to raise young Walter, but realized that he was no good as a father. He eventually left Walter at the steps of the Onkmetaryttis household, hoping that he would do well in a household of fellow silver dragonborn.

Years later Ellar returned to check up on Walter, and being particularly not observant, assumed that everything was fine in little Walter’s life. He left Walter with the lute to give him a goal, which he was lacking at the time. Not long after, he was captured by the government and kept for about 10 years now, with the intention of using his immense power for some sort of ulterior motive that Danny is planning.

So long story short, Walter spent his whole life looking to thank Ellar for making his life not so miserable, only to find that it was Ellar who put him in said miserable situation in the first place. And oh boy I can’t wait for the next session, cause Walter has some things to say about that.

#I SPENT LIKE AN HOUR WRITING THIS GSDHFDGJS FORGIVE ME #i left out a lot of stuff too gdfjg but this is. the general stuff.

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copiouscouples · 7 years ago

Text

Japril Appreciation Week - Day 3

Fic Inspired by “The Scientist” - Coldplay

This is an older story of mine that I’ve revamped a bit.

Title: No One Ever Said It Would Be This Hard

Come up to meet you

Tell you I'm sorry

You don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you

Tell you I need you

Tell you I set you apart

"Unless you can give me a reason not to," April murmured, her wide, hopeful doe eyes boring into Jackson’s.

Sighing, Jackson leaned his head back against the pillow. His heart ached with love for this woman, but his mind cautioned him to take care and make sure she didn't hurt him again. He'd been down this road before and had escaped from their car wreck of a relationship alive, but badly bruised. Car wreck? Jackson scoffed. That was the same metaphor April had used months before to describe him.

"Jackson?" April asked, her voice a breathless tremble.

Opening his eyes, Jackson realized he'd have to reply in some way. The thing was he didn't know what to say, what to do. His gut urged him to grab hold of her and never let her go. Yet his mind, the pragmatic side of him, warned him to proceed with caution. A natural cynic, he could not accept that happiness could be as easy as him saying the words, "Because I don't want you to."

"April," Jackson said, stalling in an attempt to figure out what he wanted to say. He loved her, but would it be enough? Before sleeping with her, April had been his person, the one with whom he confided. Before her, it had been Percy. Damn, he could use him now. Percy'd help sort out this mess with April. Probably give him hell about it, but help him nonetheless. But now it was just him, by himself, trying to decide if he had enough balls to take this big a risk.

"April, I..." Jackson began. The scrape of the curtain startling him, he was surprised to find Stephanie rushing towards him.

"Oh my gosh, are you OK?" Stephanie asked as her hands softly caressed the part of his chest that April had hit just an hour before. Her eyes scanned his bandaged arm. "Are you still in a lot of pain?"

April quietly slipped out of the room. Jackson's lack of a response pretty much answered her question. He didn't feel the same way she felt about him. She should have expected that. After all she had put him through, it was reasonable that he wouldn't want a repeat of that experience.

Wiping away the tears that had trickled down her cheek, she headed towards the ER confident that a good trauma would heal all that ailed her. She walked by the nurses' station and caught a glimpse of her fiancé, Matt. He motioned her over to him. Oh, crap, she thought, he wants to talk about my freak out over Jackson.

"Hey," Matt said.

"Hey," she replied, settling her gaze on his nose instead of making direct eye contact.

"OK. So you know I love you because I say it like a dozen times a day, but I was standing here thinking, thinking about us, when I realized I don't ever remember you telling me you love me. Do you? Love me, that is?"

April bit the inside of her cheek and stared down at the floor. She was a Christian. She had good values. She was a soldier. She could do this. "No," she said softly. "I thought I would after a while, but I don't. I'm so sorry Matthew. You're the man I want to want. You're the kind of man I dreamed of marrying when I was growing up. You're perfect..."

"But you're in love with that Jackson guy?" At April's affirmative nod, he smiled humorlessly. "I might be a little dense at times, but you made your feelings for him crystal clear today."

More tears spilled past April's lashes as her hands shakily unpinned her engagement ring from her scrub top. Handing it back to Matthew, she said, "I'm sorry. I truly thought we could work, have a happy life together. I hope you find a really great girl some day. You deserve some one who is going to love you just as much as you love her."

Matthew swallowed and shook his head, his eyes slightly watery. "Yeah, thanks. See you around."

And with that, he walked off. Leaving April completely alone, again.

Owen had banned April from the ER arguing that she'd had an emotional day and needed to take some time off. Not wanting to leave and go home to an empty apartment, she made her way to the maternity ward.

"Hi Meredith, how are you feeling?" she asked, setting down the bouquet of flowers she had bought for the new mom on the windowsill.

"Exhausted, but happy," Meredith smiled. "Do you want to hold Bailey?"

April grinned. "Of course."

Gently taking the newborn into her arms, she swayed gently to and fro. Her thumb grazing his soft cheek.

The thought didn't escape her that had things gone differently she could have been holding her own baby right now. Hers and Jackson's. Sometimes she wished she had actually been pregnant. That the pregnancy results had been positive that day instead of negative. Then, she and Jackson would never have broken up or dated other people. They'd be together and happy.

Yet, a niggling doubt worried her mind. Would they really be happy? Jackson had never said anything about loving her. He was a good man and always one to own up to his responsibilities. But he'd grown up without a father. It was understandable that he didn't want any child of his to grow up the way that he had. No, it was for the best that she hadn't been pregnant. She would have forever doubted whether he'd married out of love or out of duty.

"He's so precious," April said. "Makes me want one of my own."

“You've got Matt now. Why not get started?”

April laid Bailey back down in his crib. "Actually, I broke it off with Matthew."

Meredith chuckled. "Really? Already? Can't say that I'm surprised. No matter how hard you try you can't get the man you love out of your head. Doesn't matter if he's your attending and has a skanky first wife or your best friend who's dating a dumb ass intern. You can't deny it. Can't escape it. I wish we could choose who we love, but we can't."

"I tried, but it didn't work out so well for me."

"Have you told Jackson how you feel yet?"

April plopped down into a seat next to Meredith's hospital bed. "I spilled out my guts to him. Told him that I wanted him and that I wouldn't marry Matthew if he could give me a reason."

"What'd he say?"

"Not a thing. Then Stephanie showed up."

A knowing smile crossed Meredith's face. "I wouldn't be so worried about Stephanie. I overheard some of the nurses gossiping about how she was mad at Jackson for forgetting about their date."

"It's probably just because he's been so busy at work,” April remarked, defending him.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Alex told me that he interrupted a moment between you and Jackson a couple weeks ago. He said it looked like you were about to kiss."

April's blush almost matched the roots of her hair. A squeak of surprise was emitted from her lips. "I didn't realize Alex was such a gossip."

"It's a hospital. Word gets around quickly," Meredith replied matter-of-factly. "The consensus is that you and Jackson need to get back together already. It's glaringly obvious to everyone that you love him and he loves you."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Did you know that Jo and Alex got together? I always suspected that he had a thing for her. It just seems so soon after her break up with Peckwell, I mean Jason."

"Yeah, that's interesting," Jackson said as convincingly as he could while he played with the ringlets of her hair. He tried in vain to push back the memories of April's silky soft hair in his hands, against his face, his chest, his thighs.

"It's getting late. You should go on home," he suggested.

"I don't have to. I can stay here with you tonight," she said, cuddling closer. "When I heard about what happened to you, I was so scared. They said that there were a few seconds when they didn't think you had made it out alive. I don't know what I would do without you."

Stephanie propped herself up on her elbow. "I need to tell you something."

"OK..."

"I know when we first hooked up we were just having fun. I'm an intern. I don't really have time for anything serious. But today, I realized something. I want a real relationship with you. I've been thinking of a future with you. Moving in together, getting a dog, meeting each other's families, the works. I think I’m in love with you. I should have seen it coming. I think about you all the time. I want to be with you all the time. Of course, I love you… How do you feel?”

"Umm..."

Tell me your secrets

And ask me your questions

Oh, let's go back to the start

Running in circles, coming up tails

Heads on a science apart

"Dr. Webber, how are you feeling today?" asked Dr. Kepner as she reviewed his chart on her tablet.

The older doctor, still weak from his accident, hoarsely replied, "Better now that Catherine's here."

"It's good to see you April baby," Jackson's mother smiled. "While you check Richard's vitals I think I'll go find my son. You don't happen to know where he is, do you?"

"Nope. I do not," April said in as normal of a voice as she could manage.

Truth be told, other than quietly stalking and checking up on him during his first couple of days of recovery, she had not laid eyes on him. They had not spoken since after the bus explosion a week ago.

Her life was back to its normal humdrum pace. In between studying for the Boards and working full time, she didn't have much time to wallow in her own pity. She decided she was going to take a break from men. Losing her virginity, facing a pregnancy scare, and getting engaged (if only for a day) was quite enough for one year. She could try again later. Maybe next year. She just didn't have the energy to go through all of that right now.

As she left Dr. Webber's room, she heard Jackson call her name. She increased her speed, hoping to avoid Jackson. Instead it caused Jackson to call out, "April. Hey, April wait up."

Pretending that she hadn't heard him obviously wasn't going to work. April stopped and waited for him to walk up to her.

"Do you have a few minutes?" he asked. "I want to talk to you about something."

"Actually, your mom's looking for you. You should probably go see what she wants..." she said, hoping he would take the hint and take a hike.

"I'll go find her in a minute. What I was trying to say was…”

April interrupted. ”Listen, Jackson. I was trying to find a polite reason not to speak to you. I really have no desire to discuss anything with you."

"Too bad," Jackson said as he grabbed April's hand and led her to a supply closet.

Once inside, he rubbed his hand over his head. April recognized this as a sign of his internal struggle. She wanted nothing more than to comfort him and relieve that wrinkle of worry that so often settled between his brows, especially now that he was in charge of running the hospital.

"I feel like we need to finish the conversation we started last week."

Putting her hands up, April replied, "Look, there's no need. I got your message loud and clear."

"I don't think you did. I don't want our friendship to be ruined."

"Well, having sex already kind of did that," April admitted. "So what'd you want to tell me?"

"You and I work best as friends. You and Matt. You have so many things in common. It's like you're perfect for each other. That's not just a coincidence. I think you should stay with him. I'm not going to give you a reason because you belong with him."

A hollow laugh escaped from April. "I guess you haven't heard," she said, waving her left hand in front of him. "Matthew and I are no longer together."

Jackson swallowed. “I, uh, I didn't...I didn't know," he said. "When did it happen?"

"Right after I made a fool of myself in your room."

"You didn't make a fool of yourself," Jackson claimed.

"Yeah, I did. I made things awkward between us and now there’s no going back. Is that all you wanted to say to me? Because I would like to leave."

"Yeah, that was it. You can go if you want."

April turned, making her way back over to the door. Yet, something inside of her prodded her to turn around. She knew she should drop it, but for some reason she just couldn't let it go. Her hand on the door knob, she stared blankly ahead as she asked, "Why the intern? Why not me?"

"April..." Jackson groaned.

By now April's anger had ignited. She wanted to know, no, she had a right to know why he hadn't chosen her. Spinning around, April walked quickly back over to Jackson. "Tell me. Why didn't you pick me? I think I at least deserve to hear your explanation."

"Let's not rehash this..."

"Rehash what? We've never talked about this before. You told me the pregnancy scare was a sign that we needed to stop sleeping together and that was the only explanation I ever got. So why? Be a man, Jackson. Tell me. Tell me why we can't be together."

"Because it's so hard to be with you! We don't make any sense together. We based our whole relationship about how if something feels right it can't be wrong. Guess what? It can still be wrong. Yes, there were some aspects of our relationship that felt very, very right, but there were even more that didn't. You can't have a relationship based just on feelings. There are other things that go with it that we just didn't have."

"Like what?" April asked defensively.

"Like communication. In particular, you don't know when to drop something. You keep beating at a topic until it's dead and six feet under."

"You're one to talk about communication." April shook both her fists in the air. "Gosh! You were so frustrating. I never knew how you felt. You never fully shared. You only hinted at stuff. Like how you had feelings for me. That was so vague. What does that even mean?"

"It means I love you! Was that not clear?"

April stared in shock as Jackson moved to the other side of the closet, kicking a trash bin on his way over there.

"No, no, it was not."

"April, sometimes you really frustrate the crap out of me. We keep going round in the same damn circles. It's not good for either of us. We're not good for each other. Matt was better for you. Stephanie's better for me."

"You just said.."

"Yeah, I know what I just said and I meant it. But there comes a point when you realize not all relationships are going to work out. Sometimes we have to listen to our minds instead of our hearts."

Throwing her pride to the wind, she asked, ”Couldn’t we at least try?"

"We've already done that. It didn't take. We could make it work for a little while, but our old issues would just start to creep back. What makes us work as friends hinders us as a couple."

"What if we tried harder than last time to make it work?"

"Should we have to? We shouldn't have to work hard at being in love, being happy."

"You're right. We shouldn't. Thanks for answering my question," she choked, barely able to get the words out.

"April," Jackson said as he crossed the distance between them. When he wrapped his arms around her, she knew she should scold him or push him away but April could only manage to rest her head against his chest. "I love you, but we can't..."

"I know. I love you too," April murmured against his chest.

They stood there, not moving, as the minutes passed. Each was loathe to let the other go. Upon hearing the door open, they finally moved apart.

"I'm just going to get another pillow for Dr. Webber...Jackson, April, what are you guys doing here?" Catherine Avery asked the slightly flustered couple.

"Just getting some supplies," April lied as she grabbed a nearby package of gauze and headed out the door.

"It was nice to meet you dear," Catherine Avery smiled at the young intern.

"It was nice meeting you too Dr. Avery." Stephanie turned to Jackson, kissed him, and said, "I'll see you later tonight?"

"Actually, I think I'm going to stay late and finish up some paper work, but I'll see you tomorrow."

Catherine pretended to be reading her text messages as her son kept his office door propped open, likely in the hopes that she would soon leave as well. After what she had witnessed earlier today that wasn't going to happen.

"You might as well close the door. I'd like you to answer a few questions. I don't intend to leave until you do."

Somewhat disgruntled, Jackson closed the door. "What is it? Go ahead and get it off your chest. Let me guess. You're not a big fan of Stephanie?"

"Oh, she's perfectly fine. Her fawning over you makes it clear where your newly acquired big head came from, but I like her."

"I don't have a big head..." Jackson protested.

His mother scoffed, waving her hand. "Oh, please. I'm surprised you can walk through the door with that overinflated ego resting on your shoulders. But honey, that's not what I want to talk to you about. I always thought you and April were just friends, but from what I saw in the supply closet I'm starting to think there's something you haven't told me. Is there something going on between you two?"

In the thirty-one years that Jackson Avery had been alive on this earth, Catherine Avery had gotten to know his mannerisms very well. His refusal to look her in the eye, his slumped shoulders and his sudden interest in the floor told her all she needed to know.

"There was, but not anymore."

"Oh, baby." She rose to go comfort her son. He was a strong man, a confident man, but sometimes he was still her little boy who got hurt and scared. "Tell me what happened."

"We dated for a while. I started to have feelings for her, but she didn't act like she felt the same way so I ended it with her."

"That girl in the supply closet definitely has feelings for you. What's more, I still think you have feelings for her."

"Mom, there's no point in talking about this. What's done is done. I'm with Stephanie now."

"Do you love her?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"What is this the Spanish Inquisition?" Jackson joked, attempting to avoid his mother's question.

Frustrated, Catherine shot her best mom glare in his direction. "Do...you...love...her?" she asked slowly.

"I can try," he answered finally. "I like her and she's easy to be with. There's no complications, no drama with her."

Understanding dawned on his mother. "Being with April isn't easy, is it?"

"No, it isn't."

Sometimes getting her son to open up was like pulling teeth. Well, she'd keep prodding until he told her all she needed to know. She was nothing if not persistent.

"What do you like about April? What made you fall for her?" she asked.

Her son was silent for a spell. She almost thought he wasn't going to answer. After a few minutes had ticked by, he said, "She's my friend. I can talk to her about anything. I want to tell her everything. She's the first person I want to tell when something happens to me. She's kind, even to those who've proved they don't deserve it. She's hopelessly optimistic and faces every situation head on. She's brave and completely unafraid to stand up for what she believes in. She's funny and a total nerd. She's gorgeous, great in..." his voice trailed off as if he suddenly remembered who his audience was.

Catherine, unfazed by the topic, smiled and completed the sentence, "Bed? That's wonderful sweetheart. Sexual compatibility is a must in relationships. So I take it you were her first?"

Jackson made a face similar to the one he'd made whenever he'd been forced to eat broccoli as a young child. Shaking his head, he replied, "That's not...that's not relevant. We don't need to go there...ever."

"Well, I'm glad she got some. That girl needed to unwind."

"Can we not talk about this subject anymore?"

Realizing how uncomfortable her son was, Catherine dropped that topic, but quickly brought up another. "You've told me what you like about her. What is it about her that drives you crazy?"

His reply came quickly this time. "Her inability to let things go and move on. Or when she blames me for things that aren't my fault. Or when she doesn't think before she speaks," he answered, getting more and more agitated with each reason he gave.

"All women struggle with that."

"Well, she has a Ph.D. in giving a guilt trip."

"Now, let me ask, what do you like about Stephanie?"

"Um...she's smart. She is...she's fun. Lots of fun. I like her hair?"

Catherine pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Jackson was certainly in no danger of losing his heart to Stephanie.

"So what drives you up the wall about her?"

Jackson stayed silent for a moment. She could tell he was thinking hard about the question. Finally, he replied, "I don't know. She's never really done anything to irritate me. I guess that means we're a good match."

Catherine shook her head. "No, it means you couldn't care less about her."

Her son looked taken aback at what she'd said. Pressing on, she asked, "Why are you with Stephanie when you are clearly still in love with April? That poor intern is completely besotted with you. You shouldn't lead her on like you are. Break up with her and get back with April."

"Mom, it's not that simple..."

"And why not? Why don't you want to be with the woman you love?"

"Because I don't want to get hurt again. I'm tired of things being so complicated and taking so much work. It's so hard just to be with her. With Stephanie, it's never hard. It doesn't take any work at all. I don't have to worry about whether I feel more for her than she does for me."

"Jackson, is that what you really want? A half life with someone you sort of have feelings for?"

She put her arms around him and squeezed him tightly. "Baby, I know you're scared. I know you're worried that you'll get hurt. But, you have to stop taking the easy way out of things. Truth is everyone's going to hurt you; you just got to find the ones worth suffering for. Is April worth suffering for?"

“Yeah. Yeah, I think she is," Jackson admitted.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

Nobody said it was easy

It's such a shame for us to part

Nobody said it was easy

No one ever said it would be this hard

Oh, take me back to the start

"Come on April! Crush 'em," Jackson shouted. "You just need to knock over eight pins and we'll win."

"Whatever man. Your girl hasn't knocked over more than five pins the whole time we've been bowling," Alex said.

"Like yours is any better," Jackson shot back.

"Yeah, if my old lady makes us lose, she gets to pay the tab."

"Your old lady?" Jo replied, elbowing him in the ribs. "I think you're the oldest one here."

Ignoring the playful bickering amongst the friends. April concentrated on the pins ahead. Swinging her arm back, she let the bowling ball fly down the lane. Hearing the crash, she looked and saw not one pin left standing. Jumping up and down, she exclaimed, "I did it, Jackson! I did it! We won!"

"I knew you could do it baby," her boyfriend said before scooping her up in his arms and kissing her.

April was having a blast on their first double date as a couple. During the three weeks that she had officially been dating Jackson, April had never been happier.

3 Weeks Prior

Hearing a ding, April put down the book she was reading and reached for the phone on her night stand. Glancing at it, she read:

I'll be over at your place in about five. We need to talk.

April quickly got out of bed and ran into the bathroom to freshen up. The doorbell rang seconds after she had finished brushing her teeth and washing her face. "Dang it," she cursed softly because she didn't have enough time to fix her hair. Grabbing a hair tie, she scrambled to put her hair in a ponytail as she headed towards the door.

"Hey," Jackson murmured when she opened the door.

"Hey," she parroted. "Come in."

As he stepped inside, April became unbearably aware of his physical presence. Although he was shorter than Matthew, he still made her feel petite when she stood next to him especially when she was bare foot.

"You said you wanted to talk so..."

Jackson took a seat on her couch. Rubbing his hands nervously on his knees, he glanced up at her and said, "I changed my mind."

"What?"

"I changed my mind. I want to be with you. I want us to try. Don't look so shocked. You know I love you."

Grabbing her tiny waist, Jackson pulled her next to him on the couch. He pressed his head against her forehead and rubbed her nose softly with his own. "Jackson," she moaned when he pressed his lips against the corner of her mouth.

"I'm sorry I was such a fool for so long. Will you forgive me? I don't want to wait another minute longer to be with you."

April's heart and mind could barely hold in the joy she was feeling. Taking a few, slow and deep breaths, she allowed reason to return. As excited as she was, she must not forget as of this morning he was still with Stephanie. "What about the intern?" she managed to ask.

"I broke things off with her this evening. There are no more obstacles between us. It's just me and you now."

"Me and you." April broke into a grin. "Is this really happening?"

Jackson smiled back at her, chuckling. "Yeah, yeah it is. It's actually all thanks to my mom."

"Wh..what? Your mom knows about us?" asked April nervously.

"She does, but don't worry she likes you."

"All I'm really worried about is if you like me," April confessed.

"I like you. I like you a lot," he murmured before his lips zeroed in on hers.

"Jackson!" April cried, playfully slapping Jackson's hand away from her shirt. "Be good," she admonished. "I really do want to watch this movie."

Jackson moved back over to his seat and began to munch on the bowl of popcorn in his lap. If he had his way, he wouldn't be watching a boring romantic comedy, yet it was still nice to hang out with April outside the hospital.

When April reached over to grab a handful of popcorn, he held the bowl out of her reach. "Un-unh," he shook his head. "What are you going to give me for some popcorn?"

April rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

"A kiss," he said, leaning in and tasting her lips before she had a chance to actually respond.

Too short of a time later, she pushed him away and held out her hand. "Where's my popcorn?"

He chuckled somewhat ominously a few minutes later when she reached for the Reese's Pieces, for he was also in charge of those. "Tsk, tsk. You gotta pay the price, " he teased.

She'd gotten smarter because while they kissed she grabbed the bag out of his hand. Breaking the kiss, she said, "I'll hold onto these thank you very much."

Thirty minutes later and already bored with the movie, Jackson pressed his lips against April's neck in the hopes of getting a little frisky in the near deserted movie theater. She let him nibble on her neck for bit before she turned exasperatedly towards him and asked, "What has gotten into you tonight? Remember we're here to see a movie, not fool around."

Slinking down in his chair, Jackson leaned his head back and closed his eyes. If he wasn't going to get a little action, he might as well get a little shut eye.

Back to 3 Weeks Prior

Jackson was teeming with gladness. He knew that his decision to break up with Stephanie and get back with April was the right one. He smiled against April's lips. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you," she echoed.

As his lips returned to hers once more, Jackson's hand made its way to the top button on her pajama top. He unbuttoned the first and the second buttons, placing a kiss on each new patch of freshly exposed skin.

"Jackson." His fingers stilled above the third button. Crap, he thought. She was probably thinking it was too soon after his break up with Stephanie to have sex. And she would be right. It was kind of skeevy to jump from one girl to another within such a short space of time. He groaned inwardly at the thought of the countless weeks it would be before she would let him make love to her.

Removing his hand from her top, he said, "It's too soon, isn't it?"

April's head nodded slightly. As she rebuttoned her shirt, she bit her lip. Jackson knew that April bit her lip for one of only two reasons, when she was turned on or when she was worried.

"Spill it," he said.

"I think we shouldn't have sex."

"I know. I was a little too pushy. I just miss sleeping with you. A lot."

April grimaced. "I miss it too, but what I meant was that I don't think we should have sex at all while we're dating."

Jackson let out an awkward bark of a laugh. "You're not serious right?" He prayed she wasn't because he really didn't think he possessed that much willpower. "I mean how many times can you revirginize? You've already done that at least a hundred times."

April blushed delightfully to the roots of her hair. "I'm not calling it that this time. Let's call it abstinence. I feel like our relationship will be stronger if we abstain from having sex."

"Is this some kind of punishment for sleeping with Stephanie? You and Matt were engaged so I assume you must have slept with him at some point. I don't know how my sleeping with Stephanie was any different."

"I didn't sleep with Matthew. Even if I had, it would not be relevant to this. I'm not trying to punish you or anything like that. As much as I really, really, really like sleeping with you, I can't help the guilt I feel afterwards. That was one of our problems. One of my problems," April corrected. "You were right when you said that just because it feels good, doesn't mean it's right. If it truly was right I wouldn't feel guilty afterwards. For me, it's not going to be right until I get married. I know your feelings on this matter are different than mine, but that’s how I feel. It’s important for me to stick with my beliefs. But I can't do this by myself. I need your help to not let us get that far again. It seems I have little control when it comes to you and sex and I want us to last this time. Do you think you can help me?"

Jackson closed his eyes. What she said made sense, but that didn't mean he had to like it. The thought of not being able to have sex with her disappointed him greatly.

But he loved her and he would do whatever it took to make it last this time. "I guess," he sighed. Noticing the uncertainty in April's eyes, he clarified, "We won't have sex this time around. Our relationship is more than that. We can do this." I can do this, he told himself.

"Congratulations. on passing your Boards," Jackson said, clinking his wine glass against April's.

April took a sip of her wine, relishing just how utterly perfect her life was at this moment. She was now a Board certified surgeon, she was dating the most amazing man, and she'd never felt more confident and happy. Tonight was not only a celebration of passing her exam, but of finally getting her life together.

Although she was happy to be anywhere with Jackson, it was especially fun to dress up and eat out at a nice restaurant. Jackson looked particularly dashing in his suit and tie. He wore the purple tie that she loved so much.

"So now that you're a Board certified surgeon, what are you going to do? I heard you talking to Case Reserve on the phone the other day. Are you thinking of taking their offer?" asked Jackson as he cut his prime rib.

"Mmm. That looks good. Can I have a bite?" she asked, intentionally avoiding his question.

"Sure," he said, feeding her a bite of his steak. "About Case Reserve..."

Gulping down a larger than normal sip of wine, April finally replied, "It's a really good offer. Even better than last year's."

Jackson swallowed. "You're really considering their offer then?"

"I am," April fibbed. "Do you think I shouldn't?" She and Jackson had been dating for two months and the subject of marriage still hadn't been brought up yet. April hoped the prospect of her leaving would get him to broach the topic of their future.

"Hmm, that's up to you," replied Jackson, chewing thoughtfully on his steak as he looked at a menu. "What do you want for dessert?"

Sighing inwardly at Jackson's inability to take a hint, she smiled as sincerely as she could under the circumstances and replied, "The tiramisu over there looks delicious.”

"Hey man, do you need a ride home?" Karev asked.

"No. I'm going to stay for a little while longer," Jackson replied. "I'll have Joe call me a cab later, but thanks."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about you and Kepner. I really thought you two would make it this time."

"Me too," answered Jackson, taking another sip of whiskey. "Me too."

I was just guessing at numbers and figures

Pulling the puzzles apart

Questions of science, science and progress

Don't speak as loud as my heart

"Weekend trip? Fancy. Where are you going?" asked Meredith.

"San Francisco," replied April, taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Isn't that where you and Jackson first danced the horizontal mambo?" At April's eye roll, Cristina continued, "Going back to the place where it all began. How much do you want to bet she’s coming back with a diamond?

Still chewing, April didn't respond immediately. She was kind of shocked how Cristina was able to read her mind. When Jackson brought up the idea of a weekend trip to San Francisco, her mind immediately went to the possibility of a proposal. She just hoped he wouldn't take her to the men's restroom to pop the question.

"We've never taken a trip anywhere as a couple," replied April. "We've been together for five, almost six months. It will be nice just to get away from all the stress at the hospital."

“I’ll take you up on your bet, Cristina," interjected Meredith. ”Going back to San Francisco is too obvious. The whole plans reeks of cheesy, romantic proposal. I’m just surprised Jackson hasn't asked you earlier. You're the kind of girl who needs the wedding, the three kids, the two story house with the white picket fence. You know, the works."

April could only smile. Her heart fluttering with certain expectations for this weekend. She couldn't wait to become Mrs. Jackson Avery.

It was their last evening in San Francisco. April's level of anticipation was amped to the highest. Tonight was the night; she just knew it. She had gone shopping by herself earlier to pick up a few necessary items like the lingerie she was certain she would be needing tonight. Once they were officially engaged, she would not feel as guilty about sleeping with him. She had only needed the reassurance that they were headed for the long-term this time around. Besides she felt sorry for Jackson, the last few months had been hard on him. She giggled to herself at her naughty double entendre. He'd been a good boy so he deserved a treat. The newly purchased undergarments should do the trick.

The waiter brought her dessert, a rich parfait of chocolate mousse and berries. April ate it with care, using her spoon to look for any flashes of gold or sparkles of diamond.

Jackson laughed, "What are you doing? Is there hair in your food?"

April shook her head and put a mental X next to the engagement ring in dessert idea.

Ten minutes later, Jackson cleared his throat and said nervously, "April, I need to ask you something..."

April's heart rate sped up considerably. This is it, she thought. He's going to ask me to be his wife.

"Do you..." he coughed slightly, effectively causing April's heart to skip a beat. “Do you think I should grow a beard? I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, but you’re the one who has to look at me. What do you think?”

April snorted and took a large sip of wine. This wasn’t going how she’d planned.

Jackson walked April back to her hotel room. He followed her in as she dropped her purse on the chair next to the door. The evening had been disappointing to say the least.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Jackson asked. “You’ve been a little off all evening.”

April quickly swiped at the tear that rolled down her cheek. “It’s nothing. I just thought…” she shook her head, unable to finish her thought.

"You thought what?" Jackson asked.

"Never mind. It's not important," April said dismissively, hoping he would drop the topic.

"No, I want to know. What'd you think was going to happen this weekend?"

"Jackson," April sighed. "Don't worry about it. Look, I think you should just head back to your room.”

As she walked over to the door to open the door for him, Jackson caught her arm. "No. Answer my question."

"It's embarrassing. OK? I'd rather not tell you."

"I've obviously done something to piss you off and I'd like to know what it is. When we got back together, we promised to work on our communication."

"Fine," April said. "I thought you were going to propose this weekend. There. You happy?" she said as she turned away from him.

Spinning her around, he looked deep into her eyes, searching for answers.

"What made you think I was going to do that?" he inquired.

"I don't know. The fact that we were taking a romantic getaway to the place where we first made love seemed like the perfect opportunity for you to ask."

"I'm sorry you thought that April. I didn't mean to give that impression," Jackson said softly.

"Me too. I think you should go back to your room. I just...I just need to be alone right now."

"I meant for this weekend to be relaxing and fun. I'm sorry that it was such a disappointment for you.”

As he turned to leave, April asked, “Have you ever thought about proposing to me? Have you thought about our future?”

Jackson shrugged, “Not really. We just got back together.”

April's wince made him realize how insensitive that sounded. "Look, April..." he said as he walked towards her.

"You haven't," she gulped. "You haven't thought about marrying me?"

Not since the pregnancy scare, he hadn't. "You know work is just so crazy. I really have two jobs instead of one. I don't really get a lot of time to myself for self-reflection.”

"Don't do that, Jackson. Don't use work as an excuse. I can't...I can't do this right now. Just go. I just need to be alone for a little while."

The next morning April quietly seethed as they waited to board the plane. She’d spent the whole night crying her eyes out about what could have been. While the thought had never popped up in his pretty little head, she had thought of little else but their future. She couldn't wait to be his wife and the mother of his children. She wasn't getting any younger. If they were going to have more than one child, they would need to start in the next year or two. April wanted to start their life together now. Apparently, Jackson wasn't even sure he wanted a future with her.

What was the whole point of them even dating if marriage wasn't a part of the plan? And why was he being so quiet? Wasn't he even going to apologize to her?

Feeling her anger boil to the surface, April spat, "Are you not even going to say you're sorry?"

"Why would I say I'm sorry?" Jackson drolly replied, his eyes glued to his phone. “I had a lot of time to think last night and you know what I realized? I didn't do anything wrong."

April speechless, merely huffed and crossed her arms. She sighed loudly, but he didn’t look at her. She sighed for a second time. Still no response. She had all of these questions, all of these thoughts that she wanted to get off her chest and he was completely ignoring her.

Frustrated, April knocked the phone that he couldn't keep his eyes off out of his hand. “Jackson, stop looking at that stupid phone and pay attention to me! You hurt my feelings and you don't even seem to care."

"April, I think we need to wait until you've calmed down before we can have any type of rational discussion," Jackson replied as he picked his phone up off the floor.

Taking Jackson's phone, she threw it as far as she could. "How's that for rational?" she spat.

A moment later, a security guard walked towards them with Jackson's phone in hand. "I believe this is yours. Is this woman bothering you?" he asked in a stern tone.

"No, sir. She's my girlfriend. We're only having a bit of a disagreement. I think it's over now," replied Jackson.

"I'm sorry, officer," April replied, ashamed and miserable over the whole situation.

After the flight, Jackson drove April to her apartment. Putting the car in park, he jumped out to grab her luggage.

As they walked up the stairs, Jackson said, "Why don't you get some rest and then give me a call when you wake up? We can talk then."

Stepping inside her apartment, April looked back at him. "I don't need to rest. I've been thinking about what I want to say for hours."

"Good. We can talk it out tonight," Jackson said as he turned to leave.

"I think we should break up," she said softly.

Jackson closed his eyes willing the last 24 hours to be part of some bad fever dream. He reopened them when he heard her say, "We tried, but it didn't work. I want marriage and a family and that's not something you want. It's better that we stop wasting each other's time."

"April, I never said that..."

"It doesn't matter. You admitted that you haven't even thought about marrying me. You're not ready to get married. There's little I can do to change your mind."

"We both need some rest. I'm going to go home, shower, and probably take a nap. I'll come over around seven?"

"Don't bother. There's nothing left to say." And with that, she shut the door.

It had been two weeks and try as he might Jackson couldn't get April to talk to him. He'd tried calling her, texting her, stopping by her house, and even cornering her at work. Much good that had done him, now everyone knew they were no longer together.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about you and Kepner. I really thought you two would make it this time," Alex had said before he and Wilson left the bar.

Now here he was sitting alone at the bar. What he wouldn't give to be over at April's place watching TV with her on the couch. Their break up was even harder the second time around because now he was even more in love with her. He should have lied. He should have told her that he'd thought about proposing to her. It wasn't too far from the truth. She was the only woman he wanted in his future, but did their future have to start right away? This was only April's second serious relationship. She needed to grow up a little. Hell, he still needed to grow up a little. What was so wrong about waiting a year or two before getting engaged? He'd never get to ask, because she'd never freaking talk to him.

Setting down his glass, he pushed it towards the bartender. "Another, please."

"Hey, Doc, I think you've had enough. Need me to call you a cab?"

"Don't worry," a familiar voice said behind him. "I'll take him home."

Turning around, he came face to face with his ex.

"Stephanie..."

But tell me you love me, come back and haunt me

Oh and I rush to the start

Running in circles, chasing our tails

Coming back as we are

Jackson looked at Stephanie, slightly confused and wondered if the girl before him was truly his ex. "Stephanie?" he asked.

She nodded, gently touching his shoulder. "Why don't you let me take you home?"

At that moment, Jackson heard someone else clear her throat loudly. "Excuse me Edwards, but I've got this. I'll take Avery home," Callie Torres interrupted brusquely.

"I think we should let Jackson choose," replied Stephanie indignantly.

Grabbing his coat, Jackson stood up a little unsteadily, "Uh, I should go with Torres. I don't want April," he hiccoughed, "mad at me."

Stephanie squinted, looking hurt. "Oh, are you two back together?"

"No, but they will be soon enough," Callie answered for him. "They don't need you as a complication."

With that, Callie walked briskly towards the door, leaving Jackson no choice but to follow her. In his less than sober state, he couldn't quite follow what had just happened. But he knew enough to know he was grateful that Callie had interfered. He loved April. He wanted only April. The time for messing around and pretending he could live without her was over. If he hadn't fooled around with Stephanie the first time, he and April would have gotten back together, without all the pointless drama, without the rebounds, without some dumbass paramedic proposing to his girl. If he could, he would go back in time and do things differently.

"My car's over here."

Buckling into his seat belt moments later, Jackson turned and thanked Callie for the ride.

"No problem. After Mark woke up out of his coma, we had a chat about you. He told me to look after you until he got back on his feet, to make sure you didn't get into trouble. He never did get back on his feet, but he'd still want me to keep an eye on you. I've kind of neglected my duty, but I felt like you needed my help tonight."

"I'm good. I don't need looking after," Jackson protested.

"Yeah, yeah, you do. I speak from experience when I say that you can't get over the one you really love by sleeping with someone else. It was a bad idea to get with Stephanie not only because she's an intern, but because she was never going to mean as much to you as April. Sleeping with her again won't help your case with April. Speaking of Kepner, what exactly happened between you two?"

Jackson told her the story of what happened in San Francisco.

"Hold on a second. Let me make sure I understand this," Callie said. "She thought you were going to propose. You didn't. When she asked you about marriage, you told her you hadn't thought about it because you were so busy with work. You do want to marry her someday right?"

Jackson nodded. "Of course."

"Does she know that? Does she know that it's just the timing and not her?"

Jackson looked out the window, at the houses whizzing by. "I don't know," he murmured.

"Well, you better make sure she knows.”

April hated the fact that she was a crybaby and it didn't take much to set her off. Today, it was Jackson. She had been doing her best to steer clear of him. He'd finally cornered her in the hallway and her only option had been to sneak into the ladies' room. Much to her surprise, he'd actually followed her into the bathroom. Stuck in a stall waiting for him to leave, she had been forced to listen to him.

"April, I'm sorry," he’d said. "I didn't mean to hurt you. What I should have said is that while I haven't made plans to marry you right now I definitely see us married in the future. You're it for me April. I don't want anyone but you."

She hadn't responded and after a few minutes of waiting in silence he'd eventually left. Hearing the door close, she finally emerged from her stall. She could barely hold her composure. Her thoughts were torn between still being hurt about what happened in San Francisco and feeling like a fool for not talking things out with him.

April didn't know what was wrong with her. Jackson had been trying to talk to her for days, but she couldn't get over the fact that he hadn't proposed. She had wanted it so bad. She was tired of waiting to have sex, but she didn't want their relationship to go like it had last time and only be about the physical. Their relationship meant more than that to her. She needed to know that their relationship meant more to Jackson as well.

But instead of talking it out with him, here she was, bawling her eyes out.

The door opened and April quickly averted her eyes and wiped the moisture off her cheeks as Cristina entered the bathroom. The last thing she needed was to have the other woman mock her right now.

"Um. Hey. You don't want to talk do you? Because I just want to pee."

"No...no. I'm fine. I'll be alright in just a...a minute," April sobbed, willing herself to stop.

Cristina shot her a disbelieving look and went into a stall. Turning on the faucet, April splashed her face with cold water. As she dried off her face, she heard the ding of her cell phone. Glancing down, she read:

I love you. I want to be with you, but I know that I'm bothering you so I'll leave you alone.

Squeezing her eyes shut, April tried in vain to hold back a fresh batch of tears. She didn't want him to leave her alone. Why couldn't she just talk to him? Why did she have to be so proud?

"Are you still crying?" Cristina asked. "I don't know what's happened between you and Jackson but you're absolutely no use if you're not together. Pretty boy just mopes all the time and votes against any budget spending. You rearrange everything in the supply closets and cry all the time. At least when the two of you are together actual work gets done."

"I know. I'm so miserable without him."

"So is he. You're his crack. Right now, he's going through a withdrawal and the symptoms aren't pretty. All he wants is another hit."

"No, not anymore. He just texted me to tell me he's not going to bother me anymore."

Cristina sighed. "Seriously? This whole back and forth thing doesn't get old for you? Grow a pair and get him back."

April sputtered, trying and failing to get any words out.

"You love him. He loves you. Don't let something stupid get in the way of being happy...I told myself I wasn't going to get all wishy washy with you so I'm going to leave you and we won't speak of this again, because honestly, I'm a little bored."

Touching the handle of the door, Cristina paused and turned back to face April. "Just don't leave him waiting too long. You're not the only dealer on the street corner. He’ll find someone else after a while.”

April walked up to the door of Jackson's apartment. The strange advice she'd received from Cristina had made her think long and hard, but more importantly it made her want to do something about what she thought was a hopeless situation.

She loved Jackson, but because she'd wanted her fairy tale life complete with the big wedding and happily ever after she had neglected to acknowledge Jackson's feelings. His life was way more stressful now than it had been a year ago. He always made a point to find time for her even though he had little free time for himself. It was understandable that he hadn't spent much time thinking about their future when he had so little time for their present. She also felt guilty about halting the physical side of their relationship. If that was something he needed, then she would do it, without giving him a guilt trip this time around.

Knocking on the door, April sent up a silent prayer that everything would work itself out. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as Jackson opened the door. "Hey," he said.

"Hey. Have you eaten already? I thought I'd make you dinner."

"Um, no, I haven't. Come on in."

Setting the paper bag on the counter, April turned around, wrapped her arms around Jackson's neck and kissed him. A minute later, she stepped back and said, "I thought I'd make shrimp scampi and a Caesar salad. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah, it sounds great," Jackson replied, looking a little confounded.

"Why don't you find some music to play for us while I cook?" she suggested.

After eating dinner and cleaning the kitchen, Jackson and April cuddled on the couch watching the evening news. Taking a deep breath and gathering all her courage, April sat up and slipped her top over her head.

"April..." Jackson gasped.

"Shh," she said, putting her finger against his lips. She then proceeded to unbutton her pants and within seconds she was left in only her bra and panties as Jackson stared in slack-jawed shock. Crawling back towards Jackson, her hand made its way to his belt buckle.

"Wait," Jackson protested, stilling the hand that was at his waist. "All night you've been acting weird like we never broke up. Now, you're all over me. What's going on?"

"You don't want to have sex?" she asked, intending to evade his question.

"Of course I do, but not like this. We've been beating around the bush all night. What's up?"

Putting her shirt back on, April sat down on the couch and pulled her knees towards her chest. Unable to keep his penetrating gaze, she closed her eyes and whispered, "I didn't really want to break up with you."

"Good," Jackson smiled. "Because I didn't want to either."

Comforted, April made her way back over to his side of the couch. Her hand, slowly creeping up his thigh and returning to his belt buckle. As her fingers deftly began to work, April began to place light kisses on the side of his face and his neck. Her lips formed a smile at hearing him groan.

April's lips met Jackson's but she soon became perplexed when she realized that he was not returning her kiss. Pulling away, Jackson lifted his hand and gently swept her hair back. "You can't use sex to keep us from talking about our issues. We need to talk first and then, if you want, we can make love."

Sighing, April went back to the other side of the couch. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Well, first, I'd like to explain that just because I'm not thinking about a wedding in the near future that doesn't mean that I don't want to get married to you."

"Fair enough," April replied.

"I can tell that disappoints you. Don't hold it in. Tell me about it."

Not wanting to get in another fight, April was hesitant to respond. "I've loved you for so long Jackson. First, as a friend and then more recently as the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. There's hardly anything we don't know about each other. It's not like we would be rushing into anything because we have years of history between us. I'm upset that we have to wait. As a virgin, I spent a lot of time waiting. You think it would make me more patient, but it doesn't. I want what I want and I want it now."

"I can attest to your impatience. When you want something, you definitely let me know," Jackson chuckled. "Let's revisit the marriage thing again in a couple months. Work should slow down for me by then and we can figure out a date."

Smiling, April whispered, "Really?"

"Really. Now, where were we?" Jackson asked, leaning in close.

Clasping Jackson tightly to her, April responded enthusiastically to his kisses. "I don't want to lose you again," she whispered against his lips.

Gazing into her eyes, Jackson responded, "You're not going to lose me. Whether we have sex or not, I'm here by your side. Always. This is only the beginning for us. So if you're not comfortable with this, we don't have to…"

Nobody said it was easy

Oh it's such a shame for us to part

Nobody said it was easy

No one ever said it would be so hard

I'm going back to the start

Jackson had been shopping with his mom for the last few hours, hoping to find the perfect ring. In Boston for only a few days, Jackson took care of hospital business quickly so he could spend the rest of the time picking out an engagement ring for April.

"Do you think she will like this one?" he asked.

"I think the ring might be a little too colorful for her. Canary diamonds aren’t for every girl.”

"OK," Jackson shrugged, his eyes scanning the glass counter for another option.

"What about that one?" he asked a moment later, pointing to a ring with two golden hands holding a diamond heart.

"Well, that is definitely...unique, but let's keep our options open."

Not one to be deterred, he kept looking. After another minute, his eyes caught a big sparkly cluster of diamonds that made the diamond ring that the paramedic had bought April look like chump change. "Mom, what about this one over here? Look at all those diamonds. Nice, right?"

Sighing, Catherine replied, "Honey, I'm going to be frank with you. We've been at this for three hours. Enough is enough. You have terrible taste. April's a classy girl with simple taste. Here, look at this ring right here. It's a classic princess cut with a platinum band."

Jackson made a face. “Do you really think she’ll like it?”

"Trust me. She's going to love it."

At dinner that night, Catherine brought up the subject of the proposal. "So how are you going to ask?"

Chewing the rest of his piece of steak, Jackson shook his head. "I really don't know, Mom. That paramedic used a freaking flash mob to propose. I don't know if I can top that."

Catherine leaned over and rubbed his shoulder. "It's alright baby. April's going to just be happy that you're proposing to her, but you should put some thought into it."

He had tried to think of a way to propose to her, but he just wasn't that creative or romantic. He'd racked his brain for ideas and had even googled ways to propose. One of the suggestions had been to go back to where it all began and propose there. He'd already blown that opportunity. There was no way he could get April to return to San Francisco without her being suspicious.

"I know. You could make a scavenger hunt and at the end you propose to her." Catherine suggested.

"Where would I do the scavenger hunt?"

"You could revisit all the places you've had special moments together. Write riddles for where to find each clue."

"The entire scavenger hunt would be at the hospital. We haven't gone on that many dates."

"Baby, you need to take that girl of yours out more. She deserves it. Hmmm, let me think. How about taking her to a ball game and popping the question on the Jumbotron?"

"Mom, you know that I don't do well on camera."

Catherine chuckled. "I forget that my strong, handsome boy is camera shy. Well, you'll come up with the perfect way to propose. When do you think you'll do it?"

"I was thinking Valentine's Day. April likes all that romantic stuff."

"That's only about a month away. You better get to it. Don't worry. She's going to say yes. She's just as crazy about you as you are about her."

Jackson managed a small smile. He prayed that his mother was right. He'd be crushed if April said no.

"I am so excited for you. My little boy is growing up. Getting married. Going to start a family of his own."

"Yeah," Jackson agreed, taking another bite of his food.

"I hate to bring this up, but I feel like I ought to. It hasn't been that long since you and April broke up and got back together. Did you two work things out? You don't want those same problems popping up again in your marriage."

"Yeah, Mom. April and I are fine. No more break ups." He'd done his best to make sure of that, compromising even when he didn't want to. He closed his eyes, remembering the conversation they'd had after they'd gotten back together.

"If you're not comfortable with this, we don't have to..." Jackson had assured her. Mentally crossing his fingers that she'd be comfortable that she'd be OK. He didn't want to be all whiny and needy, but he really missed the physical side of their relationship.

April bit her lip, shooting him that uncertain, doe eyed look. Damn, she isn't OK with it.

Leaning his head against the couch, he lovingly stroked her back. "It's OK. We don't have to."

Sitting up and moving from his embrace, April replied, "Don't lie to me to save my feelings. I know you want sex to be a regular part of our relationship, but if I'm honest with myself I'm not OK with it. I used to laugh when celebrities confessed they were sex addicts. I thought they used that as just an excuse to explain why they cheated, but after sleeping with you I can totally see how that's a thing. Sex is addictive. It felt so good sleeping with you...Really, really good. I've never experienced anything like it. But that's not who I am. I don't want to be that person who goes against her own morals or who is a lesser version of herself. Even though there are a lot of people who don't like me, I've always been proud of myself, of what I've accomplished, of what I believe in. When I sleep with you, all of that gets jumbled up. I get confused. It feels great when we're together, but afterwards I end up hating myself because I didn't live up to my own standard. So for me to like me, I can't sleep with you until we're married."

Jackson swallowed. "You're right. I don't like it. Honestly, I think it's a little silly. This isn't the 1800s. It's OK for people to have sex. To enjoy sex. It doesn't make you a bad person, April. I don't get all this religion stuff all of a sudden. It wasn't too long ago when you told us that the reason you hadn't had sex was because you had just waited too long for the right moment and that you thought guys were annoyed by you."

Closing her eyes for a moment, April confessed, "I was a little untruthful about my reasons for staying a virgin. In my freshmen year of college, I told my roommate the real reason that I was waiting. How I was going to save myself for the man I would marry. That I wanted to wait for the man that God had planned for me. You know what she did? She laughed at me and by the end of the night all of the girls on my floor knew my secret. That whole year I was mocked and teased about it. After that, I kept quiet about my beliefs. So when you guys made fun of me for being a virgin a couple of years ago, I conveniently left out the waiting for marriage part. I didn't want to add more fuel to the fire."

"What about that thing with Alex?"

April half cried, half laughed as she said, "Oh gosh, don't remind me of that. That was a low point for me. I was feeling lonely and I had a crush on him. The second I took my shirt off I started having doubts."

"Wait, what? Karev's seen you without your shirt on?" Jackson asked, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Relax. I was wearing a bra."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Jackson muttered under his breath. More loudly, he said, "I get it now, where you're coming from, and if you want to wait. We'll wait."

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she snuggled close to his chest. "Thanks for understanding. I love you."

"Good. I'm glad you got things figured out. Relationships aren't easy. I know April's different than you in many ways, but I think that's a good thing. She's making you a better man."

Dropping his luggage in the entryway, Jackson grinned when he caught sight of April. Setting down her mixing bowl, she ran towards him. He lifted her off the ground and kissed her. Her teeth gently sunk into his bottom lip. After a couple minutes of enthusiastically welcoming him home, April took a step back.

"I'm so glad you're back. I'm making your favorites for dinner."

"You didn't have to do that," Jackson protested.

"I know, but I wanted to," April called from the kitchen.

Jackson followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as he watched her cook.

"How was your trip? I hope your mom didn't drive you too crazy."

"I want to marry you," he blurted, shocking himself.

This wasn't how he planned on asking her. Well, truth be told, he hadn't really planned anything, but this wasn't how he'd do it. But for some reason, he couldn't wait any longer. He had to ask her now.

The spatula that April had been holding fell to the floor. She slowly turned from the stove and stared open mouthed at him.

"Hold on," he said. "I'll be right back."

Running to the living room, he quickly rummaged through his luggage, searching for the jewelry box. Finding it, he rushed back to the kitchen, opened the box, and slowly made his way down on one knee.

"I used to think that no one could have just one soul mate or at least that's what I told girls to get them to sleep with me. But after knowing you, after falling in love with you, I realize what a bunch of crap I was spouting. You're the only one I've ever loved this much. You're the only one I can't live without. So April Kepner, will you make sure I don't have to live without you? Will you marry me?"

April had only one word for him. Yes.

#japril #japrilweek2017 #grey's anatomy #fanfic

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